West Coast Defenders #36

Fri Jul 22 14:16:17 PDT 2005

Lawrence distractedly nodded to Carl the bellman, as the young man
efficiently unloaded the suitcase, hanging bag, and large metallic
briefcase from the cart to the appropriate locations.  Carl pointed out
the room's amenities, the view, the bar and setting area, and where the
computer connections were.  "Your room also has wireless connectivity,
and you can also take advantage of our spa and business center at your
leisure." 

Lawrence reached into his pocket, pulling out an ample money clip.  He
glanced at it, more out of unfamiliarity than vanity, peeled off a $20
bill and handed it to the patiently waiting staffer.  "Ask the front
desk to hold my calls for now, and have them send up any urgent messages
in about an hour.  I'm going to take a bath."

Carl smiled at the tip, and nodded.  "Will do sir, if you need any
advice on things to see, or any other assistance, please contact me, or
of course the concierge assigned to the executive suites."

West Coast Defenders #36:      "Compounding Interests"

After the bellman left, Lawrence walked to the window, pulled open the
curtains and took in the vista of Seattle.  That was an enormous tip, he
reflected, but considering his current conditions, probably appropriate.
Its better to be generous; a good tip here and there buys a lot of good
will and extra service, and word gets around quickly if you are quick to
hand out a couple bills.   He glanced at the placards, detailing the
other services, including the internet access.  He noted that Carl had
left the briefcase near the internet jacks, assuming it contained a
computer.  He was both right and wildly incorrect at the same time.

The bathroom was generously appointed, looking sterile and clean while
inviting and luxurious.  Thick towels hung from a warmer bar, while a
large terrycloth robe and slippers waited near a hamper.  Lawrence
stripped down, and reached over the large oval tub and turned the taps
on.  Unscrewing one of the shampoo bottles, he dumped its syrupy
contents into the gushing hot water.  Ruefully, he examined himself in
the mirror. The times, they is a changin' he mused. I'm going to have to
get a trainer to stay in shape now that... that...  Turning away, he
tossed the empty plastic bottle towards the wastebasket.  The bottle
caromed off the side, and landed next the commode which still had its
paper 'sanitized for your protection' strip on it.

Easing into the tub, he let out a sigh. Water sloshed out the side, and
he absently tapped the water knobs to their off position.  He relaxed,
staring at the bubbles, each looking like tiny lenses...

------------------------------

"Well Andy?" he asked, as the muscular scientist looked up from a series
of magnifying lenses and scanners, all trained on a tissue sample.
"What's the diagnosis?"

"Everything is normal." He replied. Taking a polishing cloth from his
lab coat, he wiped at his glasses.  "Nothing seems to be different
organically, so why you no longer have your powers seems not to be
biological in nature."

"Great," Spectrum muttered, "I hoped Dr. Awesome would have the answers
I needed." 

Andy Awesome shrugged, "If you want answers, go ask the Sage, and bring
money.  You know, Lawrence, this might not be what you think it is." 

Spectrum glanced away from the banks of dials and indicators to look at
him. "What, you think I should go see Wonder Grunion? Or someone else on
the team?"

"What I am saying is that this may be the result of some sort of psychic
trauma, rather than directly biological in nature.  It may just be some
time before your powers return."

Spectrum stepped off the exam table, picking up part of his discarded
armor. "You know, I never go around to thanking you for the awesomantium
grappling hook system you put on this thing.  Aside from towing a ship
once, it hadn't seen much use.  But now I may need it to get around the
city more.  Gonna have to figure out how to use more gadgets now that my
powers are gone."

"Ironic that the illusion you and Dr Cheef tried to create that the
armor was the source of your powers is now more the reality."  Andy
Awesome picked up the helmet and examined it closely.  "Its fascinating
how the nanites have optimized this circuit here...."

Spectrum grumbled as he donned the suit. "Yeah, well, I will have to
take a trip out to see Team M.E.C.H.A. and find out if I can get some
kind of power source for this suit, so that I can use it for more than
15 minutes at a time. You wouldn't have anything I could-"

"I've been very busy with a research project for some time now," Andy
interrupted, "have you been in touch with Spandex Babe recently?"

Taking the hint, Spectrum changed the subject, not wanting to press Andy
on the status of Awesome Force.  "Yeah, she's doing alright. We talked
about her perhaps tagging along to London with me, but with Foxy back I
thought its best I focus on mending that relationship and deal with how
Spandex is doing ...well, later."

"So when is the trip to England?"  

"In a day or so, I fly back tomorrow, and then we head out the next
day."

Andy grinned, "Say hello to the Queen for me.  We had to save her from
some trouble once."

--------------------------

Lawrence leaned back into the suds further, noting that the water had
cooled off again. That never would have happened back before ...he
sighed again, shifted around, and turned the hot tap to refill and
re-warm the water.  He wondered why even in luxury hotels the bathtubs
weren't long enough to soak your whole body at once.  One ended up with
cold legs sticking out if one wanted a good back soak, or vice versa...
I guess that's why they have the spa facilities downstairs....

There was a light knock on the front door.  Lawrence ignored it.  It
repeated, more insistently.  He clambered out of the tub, wrapping a
towel around his waist. "How am I going to get a good overall prune
texture with these interruptions?" He muttered in mock irritation.  "And
doesn't the staff have a passkey?"  That last verbalization brought him
to a more alert footing. He peeked in the spy-eye, and saw a vulpine eye
gazing back in.

Lawrence opened the door.  A lithe, slender and noticeably furry woman
looked back at him, smiling.  "Hey sailor, new in town?" Dangling from
one hand was a pair of champagne flutes and the other had a small cart
in tow. 

"That's funny I don't recall ordering room service..."  Spectrum began,
and then Foxy muffled his next sentence with a passionate kiss.  He
cautiously walked backwards, half-carrying Foxy as she towed the cart
behind her.  Her tail batted the door closed behind her, ending the show
for the discreet yet curious concierge down the hall.

Setting her down, Spectrum looked at Foxy and asked, "Didn't I say I
wanted to take this trip alone?"  

Foxy pouted and placed a finger to his lips. "Don't be mad at me love; I
just didn't want you to be bored, all alone in a hotel room, away from
your friends." 

Spectrum scooped her up fully and dropped her unceremoniously on the
king size bed.  Foxy let out a mischievous giggle.  He started to turn
away, saying, "Sometimes a man needs time alone, to think about things,
and ponder what's next." 

As he started to walk back to the bathroom, Foxy rolled, and in a series
of fluid motions grabbed his towel, rolled it, and cracked him lightly
on his retreating backside.  "No can do, Mister bun buns... You and I
are going out! We are going to lighten your load, and your money clip,
and have a delicious dinner, then dancing, then a moonlit carriage ride,
and if you are really good, I'll let you brush my tail when we get
back."

>From the bathroom came a muffled, "And if I am bad?"

"You get to brush all of me."

Spectrum made no reply, just grinned and waved his electric razor
menacingly in Foxy's direction.

***************************************************

*Begin Transmission*

PGPKEYMAX1024RAW-Coded/Connect: 

>H3LL0, Sp1d3rm00s3...

<Gr33t5, HQ. 

>R3p0rt...

<R3Q p1aiNSp3ak

>...

>Oh all right...killjoy....

<Sorry. 

>Just be brief. You know the M00se Illuminati prefers coded messages.

<Our net probes are in place, and the new tools were smuggled into the
latest service pack.  Every windoze PC out there should be accessible,
as soon as the new upgrades are propagated and installed.

>Excellent work.

<Any confirmation on my other query?

>Our satellites have not detected anything specific.

<You know we are all in the same boat if I am right.

>We can not act on a hunch, or anything as tenuous as your data.

<Any spaceworthy vehicles I can borrow?

>Very funny. End Transmission...

***********************************************

"Parker Peterson!" The graying, burr haired man stood up from his desk.
"Last time I saw you, I'd sent you out for donuts.  So, where they and
what took you so long!?"

Parker grinned and tossed the donuts to the newpaper editor.  "It's a
long story, and might even sell some papers.  That is, if I can get my
old job back..."

The editor scowled.  "I fired your butt when you didn't call in or show
up for work.  Give me three good reasons why I should."

"Okay, one, you have an exclusive insiders look at the makings of a
superhero, namely me. Two, I can give you updated reports on the comings
and goings of the West Coast Defenders, (of which I am now a member),
and three, if you look outside, my giant robotic rabbit is parked right
next to your Volvo.  Its such a nice car...."

The editor's face reddened, "Are you threatening me!?"

Parker laughed and leaned back on the chair.  "No, of course not. Should
I?"

Now it was the editor's turn to grin. "You've grown some backbone since
I last saw you.  So tell me, why even bother with this job?  Its not
about the money, I know that the Defenders are all hired guns for Tyler
Industries."

"Now, I wouldn't go that far, but yeah we get regular paychecks from
them."

"So what's your angle?"

"You know there are lulls, times when there isn't much going on.  I
always wanted to be a writer, a photographer, and a reporter.  The whole
superhero biz is just icing on the cake.  I want to someday retire and
have something more than being another old guy in spandex.  Look, I'll
sign on as freelance.  You can use what you like, but if you like it, we
talk about a regular byline."

"Kid, look, why don't you just start your own blog or something?  If it
doesn't sell papers, and you don't get it to me in a timely fashion, its
worthless to me."

Parker Peterson handled him a folder, with photographs of the team,
along with some nice shots of Pinto Sally, and the rest of the Grangers.
"Take a look then, and get back to me.  I'll leave my number with Agnes
your receptionist." 

"sTATUS?"

"wE aRE cLOAKED,  pRIMARY fLEET 123.7 tIME uNITS fROM sECTOR pOINT."

The hooded figure swiveled to glare at another lackey.

"sTATUS?"

"yOUR sCOUTSHIP iS rEADY, aND hERO aCTIVITY iS aT aLL tIME lOWS."

Good, the figure sat, brooding as she clenched her armored fist.  They
will never know what hit them...

WHO WILL NEVER KNOW?

THE SAGE?

WILL SPECTRUM GET HIS POWERS BACK?

WILL THE AWESOME FORCE COME BACK?

WILL SPECTRUM HAVE TO ONLY BRUSH FOXY'S TAIL?

WHY DON'T THE FINER RESTURANTS CARRY DIET MT DEW?

SUPERGUY!  When you least expect it.

Lawrence H. Brown

IT / Telecomm Specialist 

TCF Bank, Denver

720-200-2505

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