DVANDOM _____ ______ _____ _______ THE CENTURY PACT PART 2 of 12 [ ]__ [ ] [] [ ]__)) [ ] ` [ ]__ #74 - "The Mane Event" [ ] [ ] [] [ ] \\ [ ] [ ] copyright 1996 Dave Van Domelen [_] [_]__[] [_] \\ [_]___/ [_]____ -------]==+ <*> +==[------- [cover shows Coppermane laughing as blood drips from his clawed cyborg hands to the pile of downed Dvandom Forcers at his feet.] Coppermane sat in his recharging booth, running the third systems check in as many minutes. The time was near. He thumbed the intercom button. "Send in Goth," he said. While many of his old lieutenants had abandoned him in his hour of weakness, Coppermane was pleased to know his immortal capo, Ozzie Goth, remained loyal. "Ey, boss, you lookin' nice an' polished up," Goth said as he entered, his ever-silent assistant at his side. "Wait, who are you?" Coppermane demanded. "You're not Oswald Goth!" "Atsa right, boss, you shoo is quick onna uptake. I'm Vinnie Goth, Ozzie's brother from anuttha whatchacallum, dementia." Vinnie's assistant tapped on his shoulder. "Oh yeah, dimension," Vinnie corrected himself. "Anyways, here's what happened. There I was, workin' for you, only you wasn't you, you still had a body and everyting, and I was me and there was no LNH. Then I get this big prestige format limited series proposed and BANG, here I am, swappin' places with Ozzie. Only, and here's the catch, the big brains at the publishers decided no one wanted ta BUY a limited series about me an' Ozzie. Imagine dat! So here I am workin' for you, and there Ozzie is, workin' the cushy job I hadda give up, and no one's ever gonna be able ta find out how it happened. Well, dat's showbiz." "If the story was cancelled, why did you switch?" Coppermane asked. "Jes' between you and me and my partner here, I tink the writer likes writin' my lines better." The silent partner nodded enthusiastically. Coppermane sighed. "So, did Oswald at least brief you on the situation before you parted?" "Nah, he wears boxers." Copperman slapped his forehead, which generated a gonglike ringing sound because the foley guys figured that would be funnier. "I MEAN, did he tell you about the situation?" "Shoo. You got mooshed, and while the docs putcha back t'getha, the Queen Bee took all your rackets. Now we gettem back, eh?" "In a nutshell, yes. I've collected files which will let me sacrifice a few of my lost operations in order to make things...uncomfortable...for the Queen Bee. In the event I don't return from my mission tonight, I've left instructions for optimum use of those files." "Wait, what-a mission?" "Tonight I will get my revenge on Dvandom Force, who cost me my body and my city [Dvandom Force #58 - Ed.]. Once they are gone, or I have at least done my best to hurt them as they have hurt me, I can put my full attention behind regaining my city," Coppermane snarled. "Atsa no good, boss. They ain't no percentage in-a revenge. You know what-a they say, 'Revenge is a dish best served gold.' If they ain'a no money in it, don' do it," Vinnie urged. "Vinnie, I respect your centuries of experience, but sometimes the smart thing to do isn't the thing you need to do," Coppermane countered. "Besides, if I succeed, we can market the technology that went into my body to other gangs as anti-net.hero weaponry, yes?" "Ah, boss, now I see why you're boss, yes? Always a-thinkin ahead. Even if you lose, anyone you beat is a ensorcellment." Vinnie's assistant shook his head. "Oh yeah, endorsement. Thanks." Coppermane stood from the recharging booth. "Now go and make arrangements for the event I lose. I don't wish to spend more time in jail than absolutely necessary." "Shoo, boss." * * * * When Stan's father had been younger, he'd been a collector of old cars and motorcycles. The collection had long since been auctioned off for charity, but the extensive garage and attached workshop remained at the northern Illi.net estate. Between the place's isolation and the workshop, it had been the best choice for relocating the Dvandom Force base after the technorabbit incident. Stan walked into the workshop, which had largely been cleared of the old equipment to make room for all the new stuff. Stepping around a mysterious green sphere almost as tall as he was, Stan came into view of the workshop's current user. "Hi, Kat...say, what's with the spandex babe look?" he asked, noticing Kat in a skintight green bodysuit. "Hm? Oh, hi Stan. Just building myself some powers, you know how it is being a human in a net.hero group," she answered with a hint of bitterness. "Well, given the invoices I've been paying, I didn't think you were working on a ship in a bottle," Stan smirked. "But I thought you would be going for the giant robot motif, not something like what those Mighty Muddy Power Grangers wore." Kat paused to finish a connection on a shoulderpad set she was working on, then turned around to face him. "Actually, the last thing I want to do is limit myself to piloting a Robo. I might build one later if we end up needing the raw power, but I'd rather keep the agility and flexibility of sticking to human size. Big clunky armorsuits using what technology I can get here or reinvent myself don't fit my style." "Wouldn't a GIF suit be powerful and light enough for your needs?" Stan asked, peering at a wristband that lay half-finished on the bench. Kat made a sour face. "GIF tech really bothers me. I can't take it seriously, and I don't really trust it enough to use it myself. Not to mention, Skysabre didn't leave enough behind for me to learn it well enough to do much with it...I'll stick with good old integrity fields channelled through matter for now," she said, lightly thumping the shoulder harness. "The yoke generates the field and sends it through the bodysuit. The skirt over there acts as a backup for high stress or when the yoke's damaged. The wristbands and shinguards rechannel the field outside the suit to form various tools and weapons. It's not as versatile as my old body, but for now it's a good enough approximation that I won't go for a combat move only to find I lack the parts to make it work." "Wouldn't forcefielded tights be kinda hard to move in? Or are they nanotech?" "Nope, just wired fabric. The field's normal setting is just high enough to give the suit the consistency of leather...an impact will disrupt the field and signal the unit to increase power in the affected area. On the plus side, this means anything short of a laser can be responded to in time to protect me, but on the down side the suit becomes totally rigid for about a half second longer than the impact, which can be...bad." Stan nodded. "Thanks for the exposition, Kat. Anyway, I'll be...oh, before I leave, what the heck is THAT?" he pointed at the big green sphere. "A wheel." "One of how many?" "One. You'll see when I'm done [you can see right now by pointing your browser at http://www.physics.ohio-state.edu/~dvandom/panzer.GIF - Web-Ed]. Just don't bump into it, it's hollow and not too heavy...I don't want it rolling all over the place." "Ooookay. Later." Stan walked out, deciding to call his lawyer and see about drawing up some patents on this stuff...as long as Kat was spending his money and under house arrest, she could pay her way with some technology, eh? * * * * Onyx City was somewhere in the Pacifanfic Northwest, which was about as definite as things got there. It was rainy most of the time that it wasn't snowing, or at least seemed that way. Locals joked about how they got 367 days of rain a year. It was a very noir place, dark enough to suit the name to a tee. And as has been mentioned, it was a fairly vague place, even for a city in the Looniverse. Buildings and walls tended to fade into the fog when you weren't looking at them, and geography rearranged itself without leaving a forwarding address. The only things certain about Onyx City were that it didn't have any net.heroes (well, there was one, but he was more of a dabbler than a real hero), and there were exactly 384 smoky basement bars within city limits. If one closed or burned down, another always seemed to take its place within days. And no one who tried to open number 385 lasted more than a few days unless one of the other 384 went under first. Joe was in number 214 at the moment. It'd been a loooooong night, but he saw his quarry at the bar. Sources told him the guy was a wordy sort of drunk, so striking up a conversation wouldn't be too hard. He walked over the the bar and ordered a beer from Germa.net he'd grown fond of...you could actually taste the iron filings in it, and considering what he was now, that was a good thing. "Hmph," Joe's quarry snorted as he turned to look at Joe's beer. "THAT is one sorry-ass beer, mister. And I've drunk enough beers to know." Joe decided to steer the conversation onto productive grounds as fast as possible...he'd already heard too much drunken rambling for one night. "What, you're a professional beer taster? I'd think someone like that would relax away from a bar." "Ha! I wish. Do you know who I am?" the man asked. The bartender rolled his eyes, having heard this story too many times. "Nope," Joe lied, taking a swig of his beer. "Fame's a fickle mistress," the man sighed. "I used ta BE somebody. Before those Net.Heroes came back to action in '92, I was someone special. I was Charlie Risk, the Human Decoy, man of 4 and 7/8 faces, action hero!" "Say, I *have* heard of you," Joe said, as if it were possible for him to have forgotten. "Didn't you get frozen to death around the time of the Cry.Sig while acting as decoy for...hmmm, who WERE you decoying for?" "Dunno. It all got retconned away, which is why I'm not dead now. But I might as WELL be! With allathose net.heroes running around, there's no room for a daring adventurer type anymore," Charlie snarled. "Too bad, eh?" Joe agreed. "By the way, name's Steel. Joe Steel." "Joe Steel, huh," Charlie shook Joe's hand. "With a name like that, you coulda been an action hero too." Joe turned on his carefully-rehearsed disappointed look. "Oh, believe me, I wanted to. Imagine my surprise at coming out of five years of training in an obscure Tibetan Mosque...." "Mosque? In Tibet?" "What can I say, it was REALLY obscure. Anyway, imagine my surprise at coming back to the real world and finding out my education was already out of date! The job market had changed and left me without anything to do with my abstruse knowledge. So I did the only thing I could, and went into insurance sales." Charlie spit on the floor. "Insurance, the white man's burden. BAH. I couldn't stomach it more than a year." "I know what you mean," Joe sympathized. "Still, doing claims adjustment for net.villain policies can lead you to some interesting finds. What if I told you I'd found a way to get rid of the net.heroes and bring back the era of us good old American action heroes?" Charlie's eyes lit up, penetrating the haze of alcohol and pain. "Tell me more...." * * * * There it was. The perimeter defense grid of the new Dvandom Force base. He'd been watching it with his various sensors for several minutes now, debating whether to risk setting it off. His new body was powerful, but nowhere near what it would take to fight the entire net.hero team all at once. A series of short, sharp cracks caught his attention. Deeper than the crack of a whip, they could only be the result of Macroman breaking the sound barrier intermittently. Good. Fitting that he should begin his revenge on one of the trio who had directly caused his condition, the former "Robo Warriors." And Macroman's sonic booms would doubtless momentarily confuse the sensors, increasing Coppermane's chances of getting past the perimeter undetected. CRACK! snapped the mini-sonic boom nearby. Coppermane leapt across the almost invisible boundary, sophisticated intrusion systems built into his body doing their best to counter the defensive grid. Quickly, he scampered into a tree with the ease of a squirrel and made his way towards the main house via the branches. * * * * Something caught Doug's eye as he went on his run around the compound. Of course, since his mind was wandering and his body almost on automatic, he was half a mile away before he even realized that the coppery glint was perhaps out of place. Or at least worth taking a look at. Probably just the sunset light bouncing off a property marker or something, but since he really didn't have anything better to do, he meandered back in that direction at a leisurely half the speed of sound. It wasn't there anymore. Now Doug was starting to get suspicious. None of the metallic objects in the area were supposed to be mobile, and while it may have been a chance reflection he just wasn't managing to reproduce, that seemed less than likely. Suddenly he felt a sharp sting in his back and almost lost control, barely avoiding impact with a tree. Reaching around, he pulled out a small dart just as a coppery, long-haired cyborg or robot or something dropped out of a nearby tree. Poison. Doug tapped the communication circuit on his wristcomp, but was greeted by a hiss of static. Silently, the cyborg advanced on him. He only had one shot before he would be too woozy to fight effectively, and he wanted to make it count before retreating...buy some time for the others to organize in case this was one of many. Punching was out, he didn't have any desire to break his hands. But that flowing long anime-style hair gave him an idea...wrap the cyborg up like a package. Doug zoomed up to the cyborg and grabbed his hair. Immediately, pain and heat seared up his arms! Doug let go before the monofilaments could do more than cut into muscle, but it was too late. He could feel the world going dark as the shock of his injuries added to the poison.... * * * * Coppermane silently left his fallen opponent behind. The poison was lethal to normal humans, but he suspected the young man's superspeeded system would work it out of his body before the damage reached fatal levels. After all, he didn't want them dead...he wanted them to feel his pain. Perhaps he'd break Squidman's legs for him, and blind Sidewinder. Coppermane smiled and decided to make it up as he went along...it wasn't often one got the chance to be spontaneous, after all. The mansion beckoned, but he knew carelessness wasn't the same as being spontaneous, so he uplinked with the local cell and placed a coded call. Seconds later, he had his response...Anna Tanner, aka Lynk, was still at a screening of Mystery Usenet Theater 3000: The Movie with her sidekick/pet the VAXX, according to his spies. This was good. Not only was she not a member of the team when he was injured, but she'd also done him a favor by disposing of Mr. Gain, a minor rival. Having those unpredictable magic powers out of the way was the tactical benefit, of course. He supposed he could live with hurting the relatively innocent Kid Pocky. Coppermane smirked, his thin mustache curling on his upper lip. Time to go in for the kill. Kills, he mentally corrected himself. * * * * "Hey, Sidewinder," Kid Pocky said as he entered the TV room, pausing to check out his reflection in the picture window as the outside light faded. "I thought you were going into town with Anna and VAXX to see the movie?" "Got sidetracked," Sidewinder sighed. "Why aren't you?" "Well...I'm not exactly Anna's favorite person at the moment, in case you hadn't noticed." "Kat?" "Kat," Al nodded. "Pocky, what the hell(TM) do you see in her, anyway? I mean, okay, she's good-looking, but not only is she psycho, she wasn't even human when you fell for her," Sidewinder said, popping open a Mr. Paprika. "Ah, now that's a REAL Cosmic-Plot-Device-Caper-Era Character's soda!" "What can I say. Love's not just blind, it's usually also seriously devoid of sanity. I seem to have a thing for technokiller types from the future." Sidewinder barely avoided a spit take. "What, you've dated that type before?" "You'd be surprised how many there are, although to be honest I didn't know my last girlfriend was from the future until she dumped me for a guy from her own time. Ah well...some of us are doomed to bizarre relationships I suppose," Al thoughtfully munched on a stick of Pocky that materialized in his hand. "Sheesh," Sidewinder said. "Every so often I feel bad about my utter lack of romantic entanglements, then I run into someone like you who has it worse than nothing." He took another sip of his drink. "Say, for someone who hasn't had his origin told yet, you sure seem to have some interesting backstory pieces." Al shrugged. "Probably a Wolverine-parody kinda thing. Once it's been driven into the ground I'll probably get an origin in LNHCP or some...what the...?" Just then, the door opened and a small round object flew in, trailing a ribbon of smoke, or.... "Gas!" Kid Pocky shouted, grabbing for his helmet, and almost making it before he fell over unconscious. Sidewinder joined him half a second later as he tried and failed to hit the emergency button on the TV remote [Hey, what better place to put an alarm button in the TV room? - Ed]. * * * * "All is quiet," Stan said, standing and stretching his legs. "No VAXX bellowing the theme to the Lost Cause Boy cartoon, no Anna stomping about and fuming, no heated arguments between Sidewinder and the VAXX about the Love Boot...." He walked over to the window and looked at the stars starting to come out. "Hmm. A little too quiet, actually. No sonic booms from Doug either, but he hasn't checked back in either," Squidman noted. "Maybe he decided to skip that step and head for the tub or something, it's not like this is a military base," Stan countered. "If you want, I can run by his suite on my way to check up on Kat again?" Squidman looked at his computer screen with a frown. "Unless he crawled in the window, he's not there. Security system says his door hasn't been opened in the last hour." Stan paused near the door. "You tied the privacy locks into the main security system?" "Temporary measure, it was easier to tie in all the locks at once than isolate just Kat's room. I was going to narrow it down to just hers tomorrow, but I figured I'd use it while I had it. And...the exterior back door has opened once recently, so he's probably somewhere in the building." "Well, if I see him in the hall I'll tell him you were worried about him, mom," Stan smiled as he walked out the door. He wasn't smiling a second later when he came flying back through the door and crashed against the far wall. Squidman was on his feet in a heartbeat, a Squidrang in one hand and the other stabbing down on the alarm system. The imposing cyborg stepped through the doorway with a grin. "Give it up, Squidman...you have no powers, you can't even start to hurt me," he tossed his head, a plume of steam rising from his coppery locks. "Cornelius Van Runt, I presume. Reports of your death were greatly exaggerated, I take it?" "No thanks to you overgrown adolescents and your expensive robotic toys," Coppermane hissed. "Things were peaceful before you net.heroes came to Sig.ago and started blowing up buildings with your damned giant robots. Oh, and don't expect help, by the way...I'm jamming the security system. Not that anyone else in this building is still alive and awake. I'm going to enjoy breaking you like you broke me. You're in for a rough time, boy." "I've had rough times ahead, and I've had no times ahead, Van Runt. I think I can handle the rough times, presuming you can actually dish them out," Squidman retorted, hurling the Squidrang at Coppermane's face. Coppermane didn't dodge the sticky projectile, didn't even make an effort to remove it. He simply reached out with speed Squidman had seen all too often from opponents and grabbed Squidman by the arm in a steely visegrip. Then a quick toss of his head brought blazing monofilaments around to lash at the impediment, melting the polymer missile with ease and nearly taking Squidman's head off. "Tsk, tsk, Squidman. As a cyborg I have more sources of information available than my old organic eyes and ears. I'd have thought you'd have anticipated that." Squidman tried to break free, but he had no leverage. And most of his weapons were across the room from him. Then his arm snapped like a dry twig, and as pain flared up around his vision, Squidman's last conscious thought was that he really should have made sure that the Van Runt situation had been dealt with completely back when he'd had the chance.... * * * * Coppermane was exceedingly pleased with himself. If he were a cat he'd have purred. Only one member of Dvandom Force left, although she was arguably the most powerful one, so he went quickly to deal with her. He'd have time once she was neutralized to inflict more lasting punishments on the rest of his enemies, after all. The workshop hummed with power as Kopikat worked on some project. Perhaps she was building the team more of those damned giant robots. He fervently wished that he'd never SEEN a giant robot...they certainly hadn't improved his life any. There she was, shrunken into human form and working on some sort of vehicle. Or maybe it was the head for a truly large robot. It didn't really matter, though, since she would never complete it. A pity she didn't have human frailties when in human form...a single poison dart could deal with her. But he knew that hidden by complex illusions and sensor-deluding broadcasts there was a 26-foot-tall robot waiting to uncoil and strike, and he would last maybe a second against it. For this reason, a large part of his onboard arsenal was taken up by the Line Noise Generator. It would disrupt all computer systems in a narrow cone in front of him, theoretically shutting Kopikat down long enough for his other weapons to finish her off. It would also drain a great deal of his own power to use, so he edged just a little closer so as to increase his odds. There. As close as he dared. Only her intense concentration on the vehicle was keeping her from noticing him now, he felt...any closer and there would be no more stealth possible. NOW! A brilliant green beam shot out from his chest cavity, and he felt like his life was being poured out into it. He felt as old and feeble as he had in his old body. But it was worth it. Kat had slumped forward against a workbench, apparently only kept together by automatic systems. Not as effective as he had hoped, but it would be enough. He pulled out a thermal grenade. It didn't depend on his power systems, and would at the least severely damage her. But he had to put it on her body by hand to be sure of maximum damage. Closer, closer...still no signs of any electronic activity on his scanners. Not that any weapons she had would be functioning after that intense burst of noise. At least, any that could hurt him...he supposed that arc-welder next to her still worked, and kept an eye on it. He was almost upon her, and looked to the grenade so he could arm it. Kat whirled about, a .50 Desert Eagalon automatic pistol in each hand, and started emptying the clips into Coppermane. His vision jumped and reeled as the impact of the bullets bounced him slightly but sharply. Surprised both by her consciousness and her choice of weapon, it took him a second to realize she wasn't just peppering him randomly with bullets, she was firing on his weaker joints. He tried to raise his left arm to fire his own built-in pistol at her, but it chose that moment to fall off at the elbow. The pain emulators screamed in his mind, and then a shot to his forehead knocked him unconscious. * * * * "As soon as I noticed the security cameras in the workshop weren't panning anymore, I knew something was up," Kat told Squidman as she set his broken arm. Ignoring his grunt of pain, she added, "I tapped into my own link to the circuit, overrode the jamming, and saw our shiny friend heading my way, so I laid a trap. It was a bit of a risk, since if he'd just shot me I would have died, but I figured he knew us and would use some sort of anti-Robo weapon against me. Gamble paid off, and steel-jacketed 50-cals put paid to our guest. So, who was he?" "Eurgh," Squidman replied as Kat tightened a splint. "Cornelius Van Runt, aka the Little Man. Remember, we were briefly trying to shut him down back in Sig.ago. Then he was crushed under FireTsar during one of our fights and apparently died, but we never found the body." "So he had his henchmen remake him into a cyborg so he could get his revenge? Loser," Kat noted, moving to check on Sidewinder. "I yanked his main power plant and removed his limbs before coming in here, he's not going nowhere until the cops get here to haul him off to the C.H.E.E.E.Z. Corps HQ...apparently they've got the only containment facilities for net.villain types in the area." She paused, then added, "I called them over the cellphone while I was walking over here." Macroman staggered into the room, his hands bandaged in strips of his costume shirt. "I feel like hell(TM). Please tell me we won?" "This is winning?" moaned Stan as he gently prodded the wound on his forehead. "As long as Anna doesn't make any jokes about having a party without her when she gets back, I'll call it a draw." =========================================================================== NEXT ISSUE: Can all of his money and all of his men ever put Coppermane back together again? Does the writer know what he's doing next issue other than making more background Century Pact references? Author's Notes: Charlie Risk, the Human Decoy was a character I used back in the old chaotic days of the original LNH stories. Scav had turned Dial "D" for Dvandom, then my main character, into ice and I used Charlie as an excuse for D"D"D to not be frozen after all. Then he dropped out of sight completely, although not before someone else used a different parody of Chance, the Human Target. I figure there were a bunch of those sort of action heroes running around in the pre-CPDC days, so didn't quibble the naming. For the non-gun-nuts out there, the Desert Eagle .50 is a real gun. A very nasty gun. I figure the Desert Eagalon, being named after a RACCelestial, is a bit nastier. And in case anyone didn't notice it, Vinnie Goth is a parody of Vandal Savage and Chico Marx rolled into one. Ozzie was Groucho, who I discovered I sucked at writing dialogue for. The disappearing miniseries thing is a reference to not one, but two miniseries that Christopher Priest was going to write about characters in Justice League Task Force. Both got cancelled after he brought the changes into JLTF. D'oh.