LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #319: Constellation #27
Arthur Spitzer
arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Sun Feb 25 12:59:11 PST 2024
And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie archive
once again.
Here's where you can find this and other issues of
Constellation:
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/Series/Constellation/
So, we had Leadership Crisis, which revealed that Myk-El
was the LNH traitor. This would provoke a heated discussion
(but a year or so later after Dave Van Domelen posted
Constellation #27). The Big Problem with Myk-El being a
traitor was that the creator of Myk-El (Mike Kelly)
never approved of it -- and it was largely done as a swipe
against him for taking the other side in a Flame War on
rec.arts.comics.misc on whether LNH fiction should be
allowed to be posted on rac.misc (this was before the existence
of RACC).
Dave not approving of this eventually a year later wrote
Constellation #27, which retconned Myk-El as a traitor away
(and who was the LNH traitor would become a plot point in
Retcon Hour). And, hey, clearly Dave was right about this
-- that using characters without permission to make them
traitors is definitely crossing a line.
So anyway, here's Dave rebuttal to the Leadership Crisis
storyline... Enjoy!
_
| | Classic
| | =
| | ____ ____ _ ____ ___
| |__ | [] | | [] | | | | [] | | _ \
|____| \__] \__ | |_| \__/ |_|\_\
||
|_| OF NET.HEROES
ADVENTURES #319
=====================
Constellation #27
=====================
From: dvandom at magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (Dave Van Domelen)
Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh,rec.arts.comics.misc
Subject: FANFIC: LNH: Constellation #27 - "Why Did Myk-El Betray The LNH?"
Date: 8 May 1994 01:27:51 GMT
Constellation #27 - "Why Did Myk-El Betray The Legion of Net.Heroes?"
copyright 1994 by Dave Van Domelen, Coherent Comics UnInc.
Myk-El kinda *is* Mike Kelly, used by permission
=============================================================================
[Cover is looking over Constellation's shoulder at the armored form of
Myk-El.
Sig.Lad and Kopikat flank Constellation, and Myk-El's armorsuit looks
decayed
and mouldering, with bits falling off]
[Opening page is nine-panel grid]
A computer screen is visible, although the words on it are not. From
off-panel a voice says, "This doesn't make much sense." A second voice
replies, "Since when did the LNH's records *ever* make sense?"
Grey-gloved hands work the keyboard. "Less sense than normal, Kat. It
just doesn't fit."
A shadowy figure stands in the doorway, his face not visible. "What
doesn't fit?" asks the newcomer. The tapping of the keyboard can be heard.
Tight focus on one side of a red domino mask which is lying on the
desk
next to the keyboard. "I've been going through the mission logs again,
Floyd.
Trying to fill in the gaps from when I was in my wandering phase after the
Bellerophon Gambit."
The upper left-hand corner of the monitor is visible. It reads
"Ultimate
Ninja Log: #5" in glowing amber characters. The typist continues,
"Apparently
the traitor Contraption Man came to this time to warn us about was found
while
I was gone."
The shadowy figure steps out of the doorway, but still is cloaked in
blackness. "Someone you know? Duh, stupid question. I mean, someone you
know
*well*?"
Close shot of a bearded mouth and chin. "Not really. In fact, I still
don't know much about him. But this whole thing stinks of Acton Lord's
hand."
The first speaker's face is now partly obscured by a gesturing metallic
hand. The owner of the hand says, "Sam, you *always* think Acton Lord's
involved."
Sam's torso is visible as he stands up. His LNH belt insignia catches
the
light. "Perhaps. But the question remains...."
Sig.Lad stands dramatically in a worm's eye shot full splash page, and
asks:
"WHY DID MYK-EL BETRAY THE LEGION OF NET.HEROES?"
The room was silent for a moment as the question hung in the air as if
it
were the title of the issue.
Constellation shrugged. "Who's Myk-El? And can we kill the pseudo-
Giffen effect? It's giving me a headache. It's too cryptic even for this
title."
Sig.Lad smirked. "All right. Felt like a change of pace, myself.
Anyway, Myk-El was one of the original members of the current LNH, back
during
the Cosmic Plot Device Caper. A member of the now-dead Qwertian race, he
apparently gained immense powers under red sun radiation. When wearing a
suit
that bathed him in said radiation, he went berzerk and tried to destroy the
Legion. Would have succeeded, except that by that time several people
already
suspected him of treason, so there was a cutoff switch for the suit. His
power
gone, he was cut in half by Ultimate Ninja. End of story, end of the
threat
Contraption Man predicted."
"How did they know he would be the traitor? Maybe the same clues that
tipped them off would explain things to you?" suggested Kopikat.
Sig.Lad shook his head. "Nada. The day he turned traitor he tried to
frame Cheesecake-Eater Lad as the traitor, but aside from that the only
clues
were all the derogatory ninja jokes he'd been telling the past week or so."
Constellation grinned lopsidedly. "And if telling ninja jokes was
grounds
for suspicion of treason, Lite'd be in the SecuriCells already. Couldn't
we
ask Contraption Man?"
Kopikat interrupted Sig.Lad, "No, the records show he returned to the
future shortly after the traitor was revealed."
Sig.Lad shot Kat a cold look. "Actually, he's been sighted around the
LNHQ several times recently. I sent his account some email, but no answer
yet.
And he's not actually in the building right now. Unfortunately, his recent
appearances may simply be temporal echos...he *was* a time traveller, after
all."
A dulcet feminine voice spoke from Constellation's chest, "What
'leads' do
we have open right now?"
Kopikat jumped back and nearly transformed. "What the hell(TM)?"
[Editor's note: in the SuperGuy Altiverses, Hell(TM) has gone corporate and
among other things trademarked its name. In order to smooth the upcoming
interdimensional shift (aka imminent crossover), various legal actions are
being taken in slow stages so that this title will be in compliance with
trademark law in SuperGuy.]
Sig.Lad and Constellation looked at her in confusion for a moment.
Constellation said, "That was Dot...I thought you couldn't hear her?"
Sig.Lad cocked his head, "Waitaminnit...that wasn't mindspeak."
"Correct. I've finally figured out how to make myself heard. What do
you
think of the voice?" asked Dot.
Constellation paused and looked a bit uncomfortable, but Sig.Lad
smiled
and replied, "Good job, Dot. Sounds just like your mindspeak. Kinda weird
hearing a voice come from someone's chest, though."
++What do you think, Flood? Feminine enough?++ asked Dot so that
Sig.Lad
couldn't hear.
Constellation ignored the mindspeak. "Um, yeah. Like she
said...anyone
else we could talk to about Myk-El?"
Sig.Lad sat back down. "Well, talking to anyone involved in the fight
against him would be pretty biased. And I'd rather not go around stirring
up
old memories like this unless I have to. I've heard Bad Timing Boy got
along
fairly well with Myk-El, but he said the wrong thing to Kat yesterday and
won't
be able to talk until Doc Stomper regenerates his tongue for him." Sig.Lad
shot another one of those looks at Kopikat.
"I *said* I was sorry. But I've taken all the machine oil jokes I'm
going
to take."
"You could at least not have broken both his hands...then he could have
written what he knew. Yeah, I know...he tried to see if your chest felt
real
at the same time he made the joke. Remarkably bad judgment, above and
beyond
his normal powers." Sig.Lad sighed. Kat's tendency to resolve disputes
with
excessive violence already had her on probation in the LNH. She'd have to
adapt to the more rough and tumble Looniverse or she'd end up alienating
everyone. "We could always check the grave, make sure the body's real.
Probably is, based on the autopsy here," he pointed to the computer screen,
on which the words "bisected at waist" could be read, "but it can't hurt to
check. Plus, word is that Myk-El had a villainous cousin named Dev-Null.
If
we can find him, he might give us some insight into the culture Myk's from
and
a reason for the betrayal."
Constellation shifted from one foot to the other. "I can take care of
the
grave detail while you computer types try to get a lead on Dev."
Sig.Lad nodded. "Okay. Maybe get Particle Man to come with, in case
something at the graveyard comes back to life and attacks you."
Constellation shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Person's still
having trouble with corpses from the VerminMAC thing. All he'll say is
that he
saw one of the MACs eating a person...but I think it was worse than that.
The
last thing he needs to see is a body that's been decomposing for a year.
Besides, dealing with necromatic foes is my specialty."
"All right. But take a Flight.Thingy, so anything that does get past
you
can more easily get back to the LNHQ and attack us."
"Right-o," responded Constellation. His tone was brittle, the humor
in it
sounded forced.
Kat cocked her head to one side. "Are you guys being serious?"
Sig.Lad chuckled and a reluctant smile spread across Constellation's
face.
Sig.Lad answered, "Kind of. Dramatic license and all that. We've been
watching too much MST3K lately, stupid horror movies. Also, the
Flight.Thingy
can be used to carry the body back here for analysis without attracting too
much attention."
Kat sighed. Was she ever like that when *she* was a squishy?
* * * *
The Flight.Thingy set down on the grey windswept hill of the
Net.Ropolis
Cemetary. No matter the weather elsewhere, it was always dark and
forbidding
here. Many of the graves were empty, which was the norm. Constellation
stepped out of the Flight.Thingy and looked down at the broken headstone of
Ellipses King, covered already in a thin layer of black moss and mildew. A
few
meters away he could see the almost unmarked grave he sought. Some LNHers
had
wanted to simply toss the body in the furnace, but Invisible Incendiary
objected. Not just because he lived in the furnace, but also because he
believed the fallen Legionnaire deserved a little more than that, even if
he
was a traitor.
The withered remains of a white rose rested on the slightly mounding
earth, clinging to the grave against all winds. The headstone read simply
__________________
| |\
| MYK-EL | \
| | |
| ???? to 1993 |
|__________________||
`------------------`
++Sometimes death is permanent,++ mused Dot, echoing Constellation's
sentiments of only a few days ago.
--Perhaps not in this case. Can you tell if there's a body in the
casket?--
++I think so, but the level of detail is low. It could be anything
roughly the shape and mass of a body.++
--I guess we'll have to dig it up.--
Constellation formed a shovel-like construct out of astral matter and
began scooping up the dirt over the coffin. Tattered rose petals fluttered
away in the howling wind.
A moment passed, broken only by the scuffing sound of digging.
++Does it really still bother you that I used to be male?++
Constellation paused in the digging. --I...don't know. I mean, I
don't
remember much of my childhood, probably because I wasn't fully real until
adulthood, but I'm pretty sure I was raised to think that men were men and
women were women, and didn't change around. Since then I've seen plenty of
counterexamples, like Lass Lad...but it never really hit home.--
++What's so difficult about it? Until I told you my spirit used to be
in
a male body, you always just assumed I was female. It never bothered you
before. And I already told you, I'm *not* George Kallen anymore.++
Constellation scooped out another cubic meter of partly frozen earth.
--I...I guess I never really thought of you as having gender in the human
sense
at all before. I always thought you were some type of totally alien
life...
thinking of you of female...well, was like calling a ship 'she'.--
++YOU LIAR. Can't you be honest with me on this? Can't you be honest
with *yourself*? You can't keep the truth from me as easily as you can
keep it
from yourself...I'm always inside you, no matter what happens! I know how
you
considered me. How I filled a void left when you were separated from
Lucky.
Maybe you felt paternal at first, but it didn't stay that way. You thought
of
me as female in every important sense of the word! And not just any
female,
but your ideal of what a woman should be! So I became your ideal woman,
and
now that you find what I *USED TO BE* I'm not good enough for you anymore?++
Each word hit Constellation like a physical blow. --Are...are you
saying
that you....--
++YES! I *LOVE* you, damn you! Can you at least not loathe me in
return?++
--I...I don't hate you....-- Constellation felt like his chest had
been
the site for a World Cup match.
++I didn't say hate. Deep down, there's a part of you that is totally
disgusted at the thought that you're sharing your body with another man.
You
may be able to hide it from yourself, but to me it's like a red hot poker
in
the face! OH, I could probably change it...this relationship works both
ways,
you know. But I 'grew up' in love with who you are...to play around in your
mind would make me loathe *myself*. It's one thing for your subconscious
desires to shape me, quite another for me to intentionally change you.
That's
for people like Lord Ebon.++
--Why are you telling me this? So I can feel like shit? If I can't
see
it, and you won't change it, what's the point?--
++YOU CAN SEE IT NOW. I've shown it to you...but it's up to you to
decide
if you want to change. We're bound together, it's not like we can go our
separate ways. I can live without your love...but please...don't let your
prejudices keep a dark hold on your heart. You might not hate me now, but
if
you can't get over my former gender, someday you will. I'm...I'm sorry I
had
to drop this burden on you. I'll go away now, let you think.++
Suddenly there was a silence in Constellation's head, a total dead
silence
the likes of which he hadn't felt since be was merely Flood.
--Dot?--
Nothing. The 'skin' was still there, and in his head he knew she
couldn't
ever totally leave him...they shared a single soul. But he couldn't hear
her
anymore. The graveyard suddenly felt even more chilling than before.
As he went back to the task of exhuming Myk-El, a single silvery tear
ran
down Constellation's face.
* * * *
Examination had shown the body was Myk-El's. Organic decomposition had
indeed set in, as opposed to the kind of de-rezzing which marks the corpse
of a
GIF. Forensic checks revealed no traces of psychoactive drugs or gross
mental
control (elevated serotonin levels and the like), so the body was placed in
stasis pending later investigation for less-common agents.
Constellation had been sullen and silent ever since returning from the
gravesite, but Sig.Lad chalked it up to the sobering experience dealing
with a
corpse can be. He was curious why Dot was so quiet, since she'd just
learned
to speak. Sig.Lad decided not to pry any further...yet.
No leads had shown up on Dev-Null...in fact, he wasn't even in the
Roster.
So the three Secret Dvanders (Sig.Lad, Constellation and Kopikat) boarded a
specially modified Space.Thingy and headed for the planet Qwerty. Doctor
Stomper had cautioned them about using the early prototype for the
Super.Flight.Thingy given the disappearance of the 'production model'
recently,
but Sig.Lad assured the scientist that Constellation's powers would get
them
back to the LNHQ if they fell into a wormhole or something improbable like
that.
Qwerty's star shone a baleful red as the Space.Thingy emerged from
ScientificallyImplausibleSpace. A few hours later, the N-space drives had
eased them into a synchronous orbit above the devastated planet. For all
that
time, Constellation said nothing. Kopikat tried to get him into
conversation,
but gave up after a while and reviewed her databanks, performing file
maintainance work. Sig.Lad kept busy with the manual override
controls...the
Dvorakian invasion had left a great deal of interplanetary debris in the
system, including unexploded mine fields.
The planet itself looked like the original RAC had shortly after the
rmgroup. Stripped of atmosphere and life, it was a cratered mass which
still
glowed in places from powerful transnuclear weapons used to destroy entire
cities. A single radio-band signal emanated from the planet's surface. It
was
a beacon placed there by the winners in the war. Once the Space.Thingy's
onboard computers had translated it, a chilling voice filled the cabin.
"This world is obsolete. Do not seek support here. Let this mass
grave
of Qwertians stand as testament to the might of the Dvorakian Empire."
The message repeated several times. A separate datastream informed the
onboard computers that the beacon had stood for the last 746 Terran days, or
exactly two planetary revolutions.
Suddenly both the message and the datastream stopped. Sig.Lad sat bolt
upright and started typing on the keyboard. "Kat, check sensors, see if
you
can get a position for that beacon!"
Constellation stirred from his sullen mood. "Some kind of gravitic
implosion was just set off on the surface!"
Kat nodded. "Check. Sensors indicate an energy release at the
approximate location of the beacon." She looked at Sig.Lad. "They also
indicate a small starship approximately 3000 meters from the explosion
site."
Sig.Lad grabbed the manual controls. "I'm taking us down to that
ship.
Whoever it is might know something of use to us."
* * * *
Net.ropolis at night. A dark and forbidding place if you're not one
of
the city's many superheroes. Even if you are, it can be kind of scary.
For a
short while, citizens were a little more confident to go out at night,
because
they had a protector. A hero who wasn't too busy saving the world to try
and
save the streets. Perhaps only one unpowered man, but no one would call
him an
ordinary man. He was Squidman, the Calimari Crusader, the Deepsea
Detective.
In dark alleys that seemed to have not changed since the pulp era, he
fought
criminals in his own bizarre style. Not a psychotic vigilante "hero" like
so
many of the day, he was nonetheless grim, at least he appeared to be. All
people knew was that he was willing to look beyond the spandex and find
that
crime sometimes wore street clothes.
But now he was missing. Some said he was really Squid Boy, which
meant he
wasn't just missing, he was dead. A few residents of this grim neighborhood
had attended the funeral, and still shed an occasional tear over the loss
of
their brief protector.
But not everyone. Some were glad he was gone. He'd been bad for
business, and now that he was gone, life would return to normal. That
"normal"
in this case meant "crime-ridden" didn't matter to these people. In fact,
they
liked it that way. Criminals tend to like crime-ridden areas, you see.
One such criminal swaggered down an alleyway like he owned it. And in
most important respects he did. He owned the alley and all the people who
lived on it. And with Squidman gone, no one would dispute his ownership.
So he thought.
One moment he was trying to choose which of his 'subjects' to shake
down
tonight, the next he felt the clammy embrace of numerous gray, rubbery
tentacles!
"Squidman!" he gasped as he twisted to see the face of the hero who
held
him. What he saw made his knees turn to water. A cybernetic monstrosity,
half
man, half squidlike robot. The electronic voice of his captor spoke in
mocking
tones.
"So, X-Armenian Criminal/Net.Clown, now you pay for the deaths of the
2.5
Million Turks on this block!" With that, the armored avenger tightened his
grip and tore the criminal in half. "REproduction and UN-ALTERED
dissemination
of this IMPORTANT action is ENCOURAGED...."
* * * *
A figure clad in an environmental enclosure suit trudged slowly across
the
shattered landscape. The job was done, and he did feel a little better.
Suddenly the crude sensors in his suit registered someone approaching from
over
the next rise. Between him and his ship. Damn.
As quickly as he could in the awkward suit, he took cover. Fumbling
with
the holster, he drew an atomic pistol. Not as effective as gravimetric
detonators, but safer for him at this range. Of course, anyone who would
be on
the surface here would have to be rad-shielded anyway, which would make the
gun
almost useless. Still, he might be able to bluff with it.
Three figures stepped into view. Double damn. Two of them seemed
able to
handle the environment without EE suits, which meant they could probably
ignore
his gun. Carefully, he started to ready a gravimetric charge, hoping he
wouldn't have to use it.
One suited figure, one unsuited male and one unsuited female. All
Qwertiform. The woman had some kind of insignia exposed on her belt. He
toggled the gain on his visual sensors and waited for the focus to adjust.
LNHers. The people who had killed his cousin. He'd sworn revenge:
Myk-El
was *his* to kill, damn it. But he'd never had the power to risk an
attempt.
A signal came in over his helmetcom, in English. Fortunately, he'd
learned the language.
"Hello. We're not here to fight, whoever you are, so please put away
the
gun and defuse the gravity bomb and come out to talk with us. We're trying
to
find out some things about the Qwertians."
Damn. If they could tell what his weapons were, either they had some
kind
of supersenses, or a fourth person behind him. On the plus side, LNHers
tend
to be pretty gullible...he probably could get away without a fight. He
stepped
out.
"What brings Terrans to Qwerty on the anniversary of my world's
death?" he
asked. Immediately he regretted admitting to be a native, as the woman's
head
cocked to one side and she scrutinized him. Although she didn't say
anything
aloud, she must have conveyed her findings to the suited figure, since he
nodded.
"My name is Sig.Lad. You may remember me from your time on Terra,
Dev-Null. We're trying to find out why Myk-El went mad and tried to destroy
the Legion. Can we assume you blew up the Dvorakian beacon?"
Dev-Null nodded slowly. "I couldn't let that damn thing stand.
Arrogant
momument to my people's death."
"I thought you were a renegade, cast out by your people long before the
Dvorak invasion?" asked Sig.Lad. The woman looked at him as if to say,
"Smooth
move, insult him," to Sig.Lad.
"Hey, just because I'm a psychopath doesn't mean I can't form some
loyalties and connections. I *did* have friends here," angrily replied
Dev-Null.
The dark unsuited figure muttered, "Actually, being psychopathic means
exactly that...."
Dev-Null snarled, "Okay, so I'm only borderline. No one ever accused
me
of getting anything right, even insanity. So, why do you care what
happened to
my cousin? You people killed him, after all."
Sig.Lad spoke again, waving the dark figure silent. "The
circumstances of
his death were rather suspect. He was killed after going power-mad and
trying
to destroy the Legion."
Dev-Null snorted. "Where'd he get the kind of power needed to do that?
I've been trying ever since then, and gotten squat."
Sig.Lad hesitated. "Well, he was wearing a suit that bathed him in red
sun radiation, giving him massive powers as foretold by Qwertian myth. At
least, that's what he said."
Dev-Null tossed his head back as far as his suit would let him and
guffawed. When he was done, he pointed at the sky. "See that? Red sun
radiation. You don't see me being superpowered. Hell(TM), if red sun
radiation gave us powers, there's be one of those beacons on Dvorak, not
here.
No, the legends refer to red Sun *stations*...you know, the
computer...giving
us great powers of rapid processing speed. That's why Myk-El was sent to
Terra
in the first place, it's where the legends said the Sunstations were to be
found. But by the time the order came through, this," he gestured in a
circle
around him, "had already happened. I tried one myself later on, but the
increase in speed wasn't very impressive. Nah, someone's been feeding you
a
line of skelitz. You sure he got powers from...heh...red sun radiation?"
Sig.Lad looked to his companions and then back at Dev-Null. "We've
checked the body. It *is* his. And he did have enough power in that suit
to
nearly kill several Legionnaires...oh...my...God...."
* * * *
Contraption Man sat in his lab/quarters tinkering with some
implausible-
looking gadget, and nearly stabbed himself with the soldering iron when the
door blew in.
"THE GAME'S UNDERFOOT, VILLAIN!" shouted Sig.Lock Holmes as Kopikat...
flowed...into the room and Constellation blocked the exits with astral
barriers. He grabbed a pistol-like object from the pile of parts and
pointed
it at the non-invulnerable Sig.Lock.
"What's the meaning of this? We already established months ago that I
wasn't the villain that I came to warn about! Myk-El was!" His hand
trembled
slightly as he trained the glue gun on Sig.Lad, who had reverted to baseline
form.
Kopikat purred, her voice full of the threat of violence, "Oh,
Contraption
Man's not the villain. He's also not in this time frame. We checked...he
still hasn't returned from 2072. Not to mention, he wouldn't have instantly
assumed we thought he was the traitor. Other than that, though, you've been
doing a good job...everyone was fooled into thinking you were him. Who are
you
setting up this time?"
'Contraption Man' looked as if he was about to bolt. "Oh, no you
don't,"
sneered Constellation. "Time for an Astral journey and an unmasking!"
Suddenly, everything seemed to shift sideways to reality.
'Contraption
Man' shimmered and pulsated, losing his solidity and reverting to a mass of
psychophotonic energy. A moment later, his features settled down into a
recognizable face.
"Bennett Rush!" gasped Constellation. "Doublecross! But what the
hell(TM) are you doing in the Looniverse?"
Sig.Lad looked at the still-disoriented villain. "I think I know. I
thought it had just been a nightmare, but I guess it really happened. A
while
ago, shortly after the Bellerophon Gambit, Doublecross from your native
reality
was able to find his way here. I think this was about the same time you and
the rest of TheyMightBeVillains came here. Doublecross took over the entire
Looniverse and crucified me and Acton Lord in his throne room. The Raiders
managed to stop him, and when he was expelled from the Net all his works
faded
with him [see Paper Tigers TEB - Ed]. But he should have been totally
purged
from the Net!"
Doublecross started to recover from the disorienting effects of the
Astral
Realm. "N-not completely. Backups. Acton Lord found one, activated
it...me.
He needed power, but had enough to force my compliance...not complete
persona,
only backup, y'see...."
Sig.Lad faced the shadow of a villain. "So, he decided to manufacture
a
traitor in the Legion, then corrupt Myk-El as a source of power?"
"Al-almost right. Real...Contraption Man was telling truth about
traitor.
B-but Myk-El wasn't it. The real traitor wouldn't start to corrupt soon
enough
for Acton Lord's hunger to be sated...so I impersonated Contraption Man and
added extra parts to tanning suit...based on Light Brigade armors, with
built-in Tesla Boosters and other special c-circuits Acton Lord designed.
P-power corrupts...."
Kopikat snarled, "So who's the real traitor? Can we assume he's about
to
betray the Legion, since you're back in the mix?"
The Doublecross backup was losing coherence again, not being a robust
enough spirit to survive in a realm of pure spirit. "Tho-thought real
Contraption Man was back...ideal way to spy, in his guise while he was off
on
private missions...."
Sig.Lad snorted. "Actually, I have no idea if he really is back. And
if
you really had been him, I'd have felt really stupid. But my Sig.Lock
hunches
told me you were bogus. The devices you'd been building lately seemed too
plausible. But WHO IS THE TRAITOR?"
Doublecross was like wisps of smoke now. "Not...sure.... But
think...about it.... Who killed Myk-El?" Then he disappeared in a glimmer
of
astral sparks.
* * * *
Acton Lord frowned. The false Contraption Man had disappeared from
the
Looniverse, which could only mean that his hated "brother" and his little
team
had discovered some of the truth behind the Myk-El incident.
Unfortunately,
this put an end to the usefulness of the backup Doublecross. Still, he had
never been a terribly effective agent, being unable to transmit data back
to
Andale Atoll without being detected. Only rarely could he tell Acton Lord
much. And he had to hide anytime it seemed likely the real article was
nearby.
There was a plus side, however. The backup had been hardcoded with
the
story Acton Lord wanted told. By now, Sig.Lad and the others should suspect
their dear leader of murdering Myk-El to cover up his own intended betrayal.
Of course, it was entirely possible that one of the two Ultimate Ninjas
currently in existence planned exactly that...but whether the one who did
was
the same one who killed Myk-El? Well, even Acton Lord didn't know that for
sure.
In addition, the cover story would probably be swallowed. Oh,
certainly,
the augmented armor and the general corruption of power played a role in
Myk-El's acts. But they weren't the entire reason. Acton Lord had an
inside
agent, so to speak...and it wasn't the nonexistant 'special circuits' his
pawn
was programmed to reveal.
Although crippling and draining, Acton Lord's brief contact with the
Source Code had given him several flashes of the future. One of them told
him
of the eventual success of two collectible lines...the Mighty Morphine
Power
Grungers toy line, and LNH: The Gathering trading card game. He had
managed to
trade that information to the Fan.Dom of the Alt.Ra in exchange for his
sometimes ally, Action Lord. Action Lord then took over the mind and body
of
Myk-El, forcing the Net.Hero into acts of blatant treason, then abandoning
him
as soon as the Qwertian had donned the augmented armor. Backed into a
corner
and given the power to fight his way out, Myk-El had taken the only option
open
to him. He embraced the power, and it corrupted him, much to Acton Lord's
delight. And empowerment. Corrupting the only 'pure' survivor of an
entire
race gave Acton Lord a rush of unbelieveable potency, giving him the
confidence
to attempt a takeover of the recently-revealed Universal Office.
Acton Lord smiled. He had lost a pawn or two, but deflected blame
from
himself onto another enemy. Myk-El was still dead. Action Lord was no
doubt
vegging out in one of the many new sports groups to be created recently.
And
other manipulations had seemingly stymied the RACelestial's attempt at
votetaking. Life was good.
* * * *
Too many funerals recently, thought Sig.Lad as Myk-El's body was
lowered
back into its grave. A new headstone had been erected, over Deja Dude's
objections, proclaiming Myk-El as a hero for all to see. Looking off to the
top of a distant hill, Sig.Lad thought he saw a figure standing under a
tree,
huddled in a trenchcoat against the rain. But when he looked again, the
figure
was gone.
Constellation wasn't attending, and Sig.Lad didn't blame him. This all
had been a bit heavy, and after recent events, Sig.Lad could understand him
not
wanting to be present.
Kopikat stood back a bit, outside the inner circle of original LNHers
who
had come to pay respects. She walked over to Sig.Lad.
"In case you're wondering, the guy over on the hill was Dev-Null.
Think
he took the datafile we left there?"
"Probably. It's case had a hypercomm beacon on it tuned to the
channels
his ship used. If he came here, he came for it." Sig.Lad brushed his
rain-soaked hair back from his face. "Maybe he'll try to seek vengeance
against Acton Lord now. Maybe he'll just figure that stuff happens. But
we'll
probably be seeing him again."
Occultism Kid came up to Sig.Lad's side. "Did you include the
information
on Squalor in that disk?"
"The twisted clone of Myk-El's you told me about when you returned
from
the Freonverse? No. Better to keep Dev-Null and Squalor apart if we can.
I
don't know how Dev would feel about knowing a clone of his cousin exists,
but
we *do* know Squalor doesn't know he's a clone. If Dev-Null tells him, it
could be...bad. Do you know where Squalor might be?"
Occultism Kid shook his head, sending small droplets of rain off his
slouch hat. "No. It all happened during the second Flame Wars. Few
people
even paid attention to what happened then...."
"Like in most flamewars," added Sig.Lad.
"Exactly. Those of us who were paying attention were too busy to keep
track of a relatively minor player like Squalor. He could be anywhere now.
You know...he's supposed to have all of Myk-El's memories...." Occultism
Kid
let the sentence trail off.
A shadow seemed to pass before Sig.Lad's face. "No, we know enough.
The
real Myk-El is gone, and his name is cleared. No reason to be obsessed
about
this...I doubt we'd get much more out of Squalor than we already know, and
we
might cause more harm than good by doing it. If he comes to us, perhaps
I'll
put the question to him. But in the end, the one who really has to answer
for
this is Acton Lord."
On the horizon, the clouds started to break, scattered shafts of
sunlight
piercing the gloom....
==========
Next Week: Something classic and LNH!
==========
Arthur "Same Classic Channel. But Same Time? Probably not." Spitzer
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <https://lists.eyrie.org/pipermail/racc/attachments/20240225/afb8095f/attachment-0001.htm>
More information about the racc
mailing list