SG: WCD #41

[Lawrence Brown]

Nikon Ninja stood in the middle of Golden Gate Park, focusing on his
breathing.  

Nearby, a group of elderly Asians practiced their T'ai Chi Ch'üan.  Further
on, a pair of teenagers sat on a bench, giggling and stealing kisses.  A few
tourists snapped pictures and then moved on.  It was nothing new for the
regulars to see Parker Peterson practicing in the park.  A dreadlocked small
boy of African descent strolled up to Parker as he stood, silently, balanced
on one leg atop the lightpost with his eyes closed.  Rapping his knuckles
against the lightpost, the boy looked up.  "Yo man, you fall asleep up there
again?  Dem pidgeons are gonna crap all over you man, if you keep makin' like
a statue."

The Nikon Ninja stood immobile; the only hint of recognition in his face was
a small grin on the side of his mouth straining to break free.

"Yo Ninja-man!  You promised me you'd show me the big bunny, man!  I did wha
you said man, now you better keep up your end!"

Slowly, Parker exhaled, raising his arms to his sides, fully extended. He
coiled and sprung upward and forward in a fluid anime-style leap.  As he
landed in a three point crouch shown in almost every kid's martial arts
cartoon, he drew his sword, flashing it around in a tight arc. Pointing the
hilt of the sword upward he shouted, "White Granger Ninja Mode!"  Softly at
first, the recurring faraway riff of a guitar began to play as bits of armor
mystically formed around the Nikon Ninja. "White Rabbit Ninja Dord Power!"  A
rhythmic rumble grew in intensity until an enormous mechanical white furry
rabbit leapt over a grove of trees and landed next to the White Granger. 

"Cool!" The boy shouted, and dashed up to the Dord, eagerly touching the soft
fur that belied the hard metal interior. 

"So! You have raised your grades?" The helmet made the Nikon Ninja's voice
sound clipped and asian.  He touched the side and the faceplate disappeared.
Parker smiled at the 12 year old.

"Yeah yeah...see?  Got them to a B average, man." The youth proffered his
report card.

Sheathing his sword, the White Granger hmm'd thoughtfully with exaggerated
seriousness. "Average? Luther, the deal was all B's. It says here your
writing scores ...C+?"
"Aw cmon man! You know that ol lady in my class hates my guts ever since I
remapped her keyboard with the burp wavs.  An I did get it up from a C-, an I
got an A in science."

The bunny head on Parker's sword hilt moved slightly.  "All for the better,
Injor.  What is next, using your Dord to deliver pizza? This child..."

"Quiet, Soba."  Parker whispered. "He DID bring his grades up." Speaking
gently to the boy, he said, "Okay man, you *promise* you will get that C to a
B first quarter of this next year?  You don't want me to have to speak to
your Gran'ma about this, do you?"

"No way!" The boy laughed as Parker scooped him up and the enormous Dord
kneeled.

The Nikon Ninja leapt up and set the boy down astride the giant rabbit.
"Okay. Once around the park and then I have to go take care of some
business."

 

West Coast Defenders #41 "Castling"

By the Amigoid

 

 

"So, can you undo your ropes?" Spectrum asked. 

 

"Sorry lover no can do.  They may be really weird but they do know their
knots."  Foxy struggled and twisted. "In my pre-hyperspacial-mutation days, I
could just deflate my hand or something.  Wait for the laugh track, and
voila!"

 

"Well, if I have to die, at least I get to watch you gyrate."

 

"Flirt."

 

"Hey if I am lyin I'm dyin..."

 

"Okay eyes on the task at hand, Spectrum.  You sure you can't whip up some
sort of miracle?"

 

Lawrence consulted the internal display.  Power levels were so low everything
other than basic suit functions was switching to standby. "This is so damn
frustrating.  I have plenty of juice just a foot or so away, on that third
rail.  Crap!" He banged his head in frustration, idly watching the suit
displays deal with the minimal damage to the helmet he was doing.  "Waaaaaait
a minute.  Hey Foxy, did you mess with my armor back in the hotel before the
ceremonies?"

 

"I wouldn't dream of touching your suit. With my luck I'd fire your grapple
into a housekeeper or something."  Foxy twisted her head to look at Spectrum.
"Why?"

 

"Dunno, may be something, but..."  Spectrum tongued the voice activated
menus. "System status: Summary"

 

"All systems at critical power level," the suits system whispered in Summer's
youthful voice. "Please recharge armor at nearest power source or risk
interruption of basic functions.  Standby mode in 2 minutes."

 

"Systems:  Repair subroutines: Nanite automation."

 

Spectrum felt like he almost heard a note of regret, when the suit replied.
"Nanotech repair systems locked in autonomous mode."

 

Foxy hissed "I don't mean to distract you or anything, but in case you didn't
notice, the rails are vibrating a bit.  You might want to hurry."

Before Spectrum could reply, ground shook as a large explosion went off
somewhere close by.  "Rush hour..." Foxy chuckled with a slightly malicious
grin.

 

Lawrence continued, "Systems: Repair subroutines: Manual Override!"

 

"Password?"

 

"Emergency Override!"

 

"Password denied.  Please try again. You have 9 more attempts."

 

"Summer?"

 

"Password denied. Please try again. 8 more attempts before system erasure."

 

Spectrum racked his brain.  What could it be?  It had to be something that
team mecha or Odd Science knew since it was his nanotechnology that has been
added to the suit back after the Robomacs adventure, when he'd melted off his
old gloves with the force of his energy blast.  This suit must have some way
of recharging itself, because he'd seen the power cord back at the hotel, and
he's never seen that before.  "Argh! This is nuts, Foxy."

 

"Password denied."

 

"Hey that doesn't count!"

 

"Password denied."

 

Spectrum bit his lip.

 

"Odd"

 

"Team M.E.C.H.A.!"

 

"SPAM!"

 

"EDIT!"

 

In the far distance, the sound of a subway train grew in intensity.  Foxy
whined anxiously, not wanting to distract Spectrum but intently aware of the
increased vibrations traveling down the rails.

 

"Password Denied"

 

Spectrum sighed.  "I wish we'd never met those damn copycat terrorists."

 

"Password: Kopykat: approved. Nanite Repair Systems Standing By. 30 seconds
to system sleep mode."

 

"Systems: Repair Subroutines: Nanite Emergency Override: Recharge!"

Spectrum stared at the third rail, unblinking. His teeth clenched as he
strained against the ropes. He jerked his hand and pointed at the rail,
willing the suit to do something, anything... 

 

Almost as if he was bleeding, a pool of silvery liquid formed at the end of
his outstretched fingertip. The liquid flowed between the suit and the
energized rail.

 

"HURRY! The train!" Foxy gasped.

 

"Shield your eyes Foxy, I hope this suit is insulated!"

 

ZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!!!

 

 

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

 

Randall Ames, aka British Airwave, sat at his desk in the West Coast
Defenders headquarters, the enormous T-shaped building of Tyler Industries.
There was a lot of work to be done, and despite a lovely view of the Bay and
the fog rolling in, he had little time to enjoy the vista. Paperwork piled on
his desk in his absence was being shuttled to the appropriate departments as
quickly as he could review and sign it.  He paused for a couple minutes to
stretch his arms and legs and strode to his private toilet.  It was slightly
larger and oddly constructed compared to a regular executive washroom.  Its
first hint of abnormalcy was the thicker than expected door.  Extremely
quiet, except for a small decorative fountain's patter and gurgle of water.
Spartan in its décor, it had a wall mounted VoIP phone with a color display
and a wired headset adjacent to the toilet and the wash area. Stopping to
gulp down a new prescription and a glass of tap water, the elder superhero
relaxed and let out a sigh. Quiet. Very very quiet. Randall's world had
become noisier and harder to tune out as of late. Because of the bustle of
all the types of RF assaulting his senses, quiet was the greatest luxury the
restroom could provide him. It gave him the time to time things through,
without distractions.

 

Airwave sat and reflected on the paperwork.  No, not that paperwork. 

(If you are going to keep pulling an Ill Dudes on me every time I narrate a
bathroom scene I'm out of here.)

 

Airwave stood and walked out of the bathroom and sank into the leather chair
at his desk.  Expense vouchers for additional materials, construction and
retrofits, and unplanned upgrades were arrayed before him.  All the work and
preparation was for naught now that Spectrum had lost his powers.  Perhaps
'lost touch with his powers' might be more appropriate, considering Dr.
Awesome's report. What a puzzle that was.  Randall mused to himself; at least
Andy was kind enough to see Lawrence. Considering the circumstances of the
Industrial Revolution, he would not have blamed anyone if they had simply
slammed the door in Spectrum's face.   Who to ask next? Who could relate with
the hero and help him? 

 

British Airwave was inwardly relieved to conclude that the Nikon Ninja truly
had no ill intent in his reporting work. It was just some bad judgment on the
part of a young man.  He hoped that their relationship would be improving.
Cliché as it was, the confrontation seemed to clear the air between the two
and Parker had been good as his word to clear reporting tidbits with the
team.  

 

There were some letters from the government; paperwork hoops to jump through,
regarding the legal status and citizenship issues of the team members.
Spectrum's claim of US Citizenship was mysteriously accepted, despite the
fact that both he and Foxy had materialized out of thin air.  Parker
Peterson's status was very boringly normal, and while Randall was certain the
papers provided by TDSM were forgeries, they were of such a high quality that
they too were unchallenged.

 

Now, as soon as Spectrum and Foxy's plane landed, he could finish updating
Lawrence on the fortune his Rainbow Knights foundation had amassed over the
decades.  Even if they could not be a hero team like they'd once been,
Spectrum and British Airwave could make the world a better place with their
charity work.  12 hours to catch up on the rest of the paperwork, eat, rest,
and be ready for their team leader's return.

 

His desk phone rang.  Glancing at the caller id, Randall snatched at the
handset like it was the last free lo-carb cookie at a weight watchers
meeting.  "Yes Spectrum?"

 

Spectrum's voice was a bit rough from the distance, and something in his tone
set off alarms in the old hero's instincts.

 

"Scramble the team.  Foxy and I are getting on a chartered jet to make the
best speed back to HQ. We have a major emergency and I need you to start
shaking the trees for some help."

As British Airwave listened to Spectrum, he turned some of his attention to
rather urgent sounding radio news bulletins about a bombing outside a subway
in London.

"Something to do with the bombing?" Randall asked.

 

"You could say that.  Hey man, this is big.  We're going to need help. I've
got to answer another call, if you have any pull with the Brits still, I need
to get some clearances so we can bug out and get home immediately."

 

"I shall make some calls."

 

"Great.  I'll call you for a full update as soon as we're wheels up. You know
anyone besides Stetson that has a spaceship?"

 

"WHAT?"

 

THAT'S RIGHT, ANOTHER SPACE ADVENTURE!

 

WHO WILL HELP OUR HEROES?

 

WHEN WILL SPECTRUM REGAIN HIS POWERS?

 

WHAT MORE SECRETS DOES HIS SUIT HOLD?

 

THIS IS SUPERGUY. THIS IS REFRESHMENT.

 

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