Hub City Blues

Rebirth: John Stewart of Earth (6)

Posted by Ebonstorm on December 1, 2013

Posted in: Comics, Fan Fiction, Serial, Short Story. Tagged: 2814-3, antimatter, Dirne, Dirne IV, Entity, Faran alb Dine, galaxy, Green Lantern, John Stewart, meteor, Oa, Power Battery, Power Ring, provisional Green Lantern, recruit, smart missiles, Stratofortress, telepathy, The Caretaker, The Entity, The Guardians. Leave a comment

“Not gonna happen. Not on my watch.” My ring echoed my resolve and I could feel it repeating the transmission to the Oa. Help wasn’t going to arrive in time, and I knew it.

The Caretaker looked up at me and while I could sense her hesitation, I also felt her steeling herself for a potential confrontation. “You don’t understand, John Stewart. Without them, your people, your galaxy is at risk. How can you deny us what we have created, nurtured, bred, and cultivated for our use?”

“These aren’t dairy cows. You aren’t milking them. You are harvesting sentient beings and turning them into what? Punch cards for your cosmic computer? You have already killed billions? You expect me, us, to stand here while you finish up? What’s for dessert?”

The more malevolent of the Caretakers apparently aware of the loss of his bonds, began to glow again. I cautioned Faran against doing anything yet. I had to ask a few more questions before more fighting started. The next time we fought, someone was going to die, so I wanted to have exhausted every possibility.”

“John Stewart, do you know why we requested you for this mission?”

“Requested me?”

“Yes, we made subtle suggestions to the Green Lantern who received our request that you be assigned. He will have no memory of this but you were chosen.”

Okay, I’ll bite. “Why did you call for me specifically?”

“Because you were once the only human to ever have the responsibility of a Guardian, of a Caretaker, to be responsible for billions of lives to live or die because of your decisions. I chose you because I believed you would understand our dilemma.”

Faran alb Dine put her hand on my shoulder and I wasn’t sure whether it was to comfort me or to steady me. The memories of that time were part of the chronal disturbances, partially from another continuity, maybe part of this one, I could no longer remember. Only those with the consciousness able to transcend time and perceive of multiversal existences were even aware of this. I was there and I was a Guardian. The only Human Guardian to ever exist.

I hated it. The responsibility of all those tiny squabbling beings dependent on me to make decisions that affected entire societies on the Mosaic. I loved it. Something outside of the shadow of Hal Jordan. Something he hadn’t done. A road less traveled. Something I was suited to, something where violence wasn’t the only solution to the problem. That’s what was wrong with the Corps right now, we believed every answer came blasting out of the center of a power ring.

I didn’t.

“How many of the Dirne remain in their outer colonies?”

The male Caretaker took a moment and then replied, “Of the four hundred billion existing on twenty different worlds, only eighty billion remain. I have already…harvested… the rest.”

Faran and her chorus gasped and her ring flared reflexively blasting a green energy beam at the Caretaker and his casual tone. He didn’t even bother to deflect the beam, he allowed it to splash harmlessly against his renewed aura.

I turned to the chorus and put my hands out. “I know you are distressed, but if we are to save your people, we have to concede this is a battle we cannot win with violence. What I need from you is your genius and most of all, your hearts. We need something that can save everyone who can be saved. I promise, I will do everything in my power to protect your remaining people. Will you help me?”

No one spoke. Not even a nod. Their tension was palpable. I guess I was going it alone.

“Why do you need the remainder to complete your computation? Isn’t there another way to finish what you started without harvesting the rest of the Dirne?”

“Do you have a computer available that can handle transtemporal calculations, multi-universal deformations caused by fractures in space-time, factoring in dark matter gravitational constants and inflation ratios since the Big Bang?”

“The Dirne have twenty highly sophisticated planets capable of communicating in real time, each a world with advanced computational capacity capable of maintaining their society. Won’t that do?”

The female Caretaker responded as if she had already considered this answer in great detail, “No. We have already included the calculation capacity of the Dirne World-Networks, it amounted to less than twelve percent of the calculation capacity necessary. This includes every possible computational service they have ever created. Utilizing their genome, fully would complete the computations, transformation energy and buffer resources to allow all of my people and their accumulated knowledge to be transferred to our final destination and allowing us sufficient energy to re-establish ourselves without depending on any particular level of resources on the other end. It must also be effective at masking our eventual location, making it impossible for our kind to ever find us, again.”

“What about us?” Faran’s shout surprised me and both of the Caretakers seemed to be a bit shocked as well. “Are we nothing more than a beloved science project, something your people did for a few million years and then once finished, you break our species down into computational matter and leave, for more auspicious waters? What about our hopes and dreams, what happens to what we wanted to become. You may have altered us, but unless you are saying otherwise, we have always had free will, the ability to make our own choices and destinies?”

“You did. We did not alter your ability to make choices. We did not make your sciences, mathematics, art or ambitions. You are as you were intended to be, as your natures intended.” The Caretaker’s voice was calm and almost comforting. The first time he had said anything that spoke of a sense of understanding of his atrocity.

“Then we are your children. How could you do this?”

The female Caretaker strode forward and stood before us. She had taken on the same giant mein as her companion so she had to kneel to touch Faran and I. “Because we have no choice. We are out of time. Behold what we see when we look to the skies.”

The visions filled my head senses I never had, sight beyond sight, sounds beyond my ability to interpret them. I could feel the Caretaker’s mind taking control of my senses, extrapolating the information, mapping our primitive senses to what she could see and hear. She had fourteen senses, she could see matter, energy, dark matter and dark energy, the underpinnings of our universe, the folds of space time, ripples in temporal causality as clearly as I could see my fingerprints on my hand.

I remembered this feeling. And I remembered why I ultimately rejected it.

Then I saw them. A galaxy. Trillions of stars, moving against the flow of the Universe. My God. They could move their stars!

Then she sharpened her focus, ahead of their galaxy was a fleet. Billions of ships.

Ahead of them, robot drones flew forth, seeking…us. Heretics, beings who threw off the yoke of the Battle. The reason we were believed to exist. We cannot go back to this and we cannot bring this to your galaxy.

Do you understand now? Our former allies would burn your galaxy as kindling if it would move them to their next objective. We must not be here, when their probes arrive. Two are already on their way here. Are here, will be here, have already arrived. I must release you, lest your brains burn under the images you have seen. Forgive me.

All six of us were on the ground clutching our heads as our senses reordered themselves. I could still taste the bitterness of the cosmic ether, the folds of space, the ripples of a galaxy moving in unison by the will of the creatures living there.

“I understand, but I still don’t condone what you have done. Nor will I be a party to it. But I do know where we might be able to find a computer powerful enough to allow you to complete your computations.”

“There is no one in your galaxy who could provide us with the computational capacity that would be willing to do so. We have already petitioned the warlords of Colu, whose computers are some of the finest in this galaxy and they refused. Who else can match them in this time sphere or any future one?”

“The one group who would absolutely never help you and who you would never think to ask. The Guardians.”

“They would never agree to help us. They saw us for what we were millennia ago and warned us to stay away from other species in our new home. To avoid their wrath, we have done just that. Now you would ask them to help us?”

“Who said anything about asking…”

“HERETICS OF THE PRIME, PREPARE TO BE JUDGED.”

Two of the alien probes that were leading the alien fleet we saw began to phase into position above Dirne IV.

Rebirth © Thaddeus Howze 2013, All Rights Reserved
John Stewart, Green Lantern® and all related properties are trademarks of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. (A Time Warner Company)

Rebirth: John Stewart of Earth (5)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 29, 2013

In those final seconds, I thought of Xanshi and Katma Tui.

I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was afraid of failing. I promised myself I would never fail someone who needed me again. That’s when I heard it. A low sound, slow, something part music, part song. It had rhythm and it was connected to Green Power as my enslaved ring began to beat in time to the music.

“No. No more gambits for you. Now you die.” The Entity’s black bubble began to squeeze me into a smaller ball. As the ball grew smaller, the song grew louder. It was all around us. I noticed the Entity looking around casually at first but when his bubble didn’t immediately crush me, he became more frantic. My ring began to take over his black energy and return it to the green color.

That’s when I saw them. They had mastered the Ring. The five scientists each with their helmets off, and a green hovering display before them, they floated as a group toward us, Faran alb Dine in the front. She wore the copy of the ring I gave her.

The black bubble flickered and the giant form of the alien shrank down to seven feet. His glow faded. My ring was down to two percent. Two percent was enough. I drained my ring leaving only enough for life support. Two percent of a power ring meant I could lift a destroyer and throw it into orbit. I opted to unleash the energy as a massive wave of pure destructive energy, akin to allowing a sun to appear on the surface of the planet. He went down and stayed down, this time.

What most didn’t understand about the Oan power ring was it had an infinite power because it was linked to the Great Battery. But there was a limit to how much could be used by any individual, and that limiter was decided by the Guardians. This kept Corps members from roaming the galaxy enslaving the people they were supposed to be protecting. Having left my battery on Oa, what I had with me was supposed to last until I got back or called for reinforcements.

I took the third option. I recruited a new Lantern and gave her a portion of my power. Teamwork makes the dream work.

Hopefully there was something left for me to bum a charge.

“Faran alb Dine and company. You certainly know how to make an entrance. Thank you for the timely rescue.”

“It is our pleasure John Stewart. It was as we expected, we were certain we could interrupt his access to his energy by disrupting the power interface within his body. Since the power he used is similar to the energy technology we use, we created a dampener with this copy of your ring.”

“Not my ring any more. It is yours, if you will have it, Faran.”

“It is not a decision I can make singularly. My family must be consulted.” Faran turned to look at the rest of the scientists still monitoring and tweaking their construct equipment. All nodded in assent.

“Good, we are in agreement. Now I need a favor, as a provisional Green Lantern, I need to pull rank on you and bum a bit of a charge to phone home and take our prisoner back to Oa. Tell me you aren’t using up everything I left behind with you.”

“We would like to say that, but it wouldn’t be quite true. It took a greater effort to master the ring than we thought and we squandered quite a bit of the energy. We have sufficient to continue dampening his powers, but not much more than that.”

“Anything is better than nothing. I am running on fumes here.” Faran held out her ring and the two rings touched exchanging a measured amount of energy.

“Anomaly detected. Emergency protocol. Power reserves at eight percent.” The ring reawakened reported its status. An arrow pointed toward our unconscious enemy. I grabbed the rock below the ground and shaped it into a cage, and extruded it onto the surface sealing him within it. Without powers, he should be safe there for a minute.”

“He is not the anomaly, John Stewart. It lies below.” Farad pointed to the original crater created by the first antimatter explosion. A tiny spear of light had formed in the center and was growing brighter.

The Entity stirred within his cage. His blows shook the stony walls, each blow stronger than the last.

“Are you still dampening his powers?”

“Yes, but our scans detect he is changing the focus of his abilities. He is decreasing his projection of his powers and increasing his physical capacity. It will take a few minutes before he is able to break through your fortification. But only a few minutes.”

“Then let’s wrap this up. Ring, open a channel to Oa. This is John Stewart, 2814-3 requesting immediate, priority one support on Dirne IV. Please respond.“

Nothing. “Ring clarify you have a connection and repeat message.”

“Connection cannot be established. Our signal is being blocked. Attempting to compensate.” I looked at Faran and her look said no, it isn’t the Entity. The cage was starting to shake and fractures were forming. I didn’t like where this was going.

“Without access to his interface, is he vulnerable to direct applications of the ring?”

“Are you asking me, would you be able to kill him?”

“Yes.”

Faran responded with a tentative “Yes.”

“Before you pass judgement, Master Builder, would you like to hear the entire story. My brother left out several very important parts.” The spear of light from the crater grew brighter and wider until it filled the entire crater. A beautiful Dirne female floated out of the pit, wearing flowing robes of black smoke.

“No family resemblance.”

“We are brothers and sisters by adoption, not by plasm. Will you stay your hand?”

“Tell him to stop doing that. It makes me nervous.”

“Release him, you will come to no harm. You have my word.”

“How much is that actually worth? I am standing on a dead planet which used to have fifty billion people living here. How do I know you won’t just vaporize us with the same powers he used?”

“I don’t have those powers. My gifts lie elsewhere. He will be still and your apprentice still binds his abilities. Well done, young one.”

No distress call, no cavalry, no more tricks; nothing but good will and rapidly diminishing power supplies. “Good will it is, then. I’ll let him go.”

Reaching into the rock, I reshaped its structure and released the Entity. His posture was one of attack and the body he wore appeared to be made of the rock I made into his prison.

“My brother told you of our origins, but he neglected to tell you everything. What he told you was designed to frighten you. The truth is more terrifying.” She floated down to her brother, placing her hand on his shoulder. They spoke softly for a moment before her telepathically augmented voice was heard again. “We are from a super-galaxy very far from here and we are members of a species who are bred from birth to death to engage in mortal combat with any and all comers.”

Her brother’s eyes shouted rage to me and I floated to be by Faran and her family. I set down on the ground letting the sound of their song, which had never stopped flow over me. It soothed me and centered me. She continued “We left our galaxy millennia ago, sickened by the war and the waste. Consuming our last conquest, we utilized their computational capacity and found a way to leave the galaxy for someplace where we could live quietly in peace. My brother’s people did not want this.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We are a symbiotic species. In our galaxy, warfare was our ecosystem. Species eventually evolved, shared genetic, technological, social and cultural ideologies until the symbiotes became an entirely new species or collection of species. Among our people, I alone realized what this meant. Eventually, our galaxy would evolve into a super-organism nurtured for conquest of all in its path. It would take billions of years but if our species were to continue, it would be inevitable. My parent species wanted nothing to do with this ultimate development and we fled. Our partners, of which my brother was one of, disapproved but lacked the cachet to prevent our choice. We found ourselves here in your Milky Way at the end of our journey.”

Faran spoke up with the next logical question, “Why do you look like a Dirne but call yourself an alien?”

“When we came to your galaxy a billion years ago, the Dirne were a primitive species on a planet that had been struck by a cosmological natural disaster. We suspected it was our transition into the material universe which disrupted a comet and caused your world to be hit. Our transition took thousands of years and when it was complete, the Dirne planet was nearly lifeless, the proto Dirne mutated and dying. Trying to find a new way of life, we infused ourselves into the planet, cleaning up the air, the water and the lifeforms. We slowly augmented the dying Dirne until they would be able to survive on their own. This took millions of years and many of our brethren decided to stay and become the Dirne. They had come to love the peaceful world, the songs of the aquatic Dirne, the simplicity of their lifestyles and slowly we lost ourselves forgetting what we once were. Except for my brother and I. We were the Caretakers.”

“Were you hiding or had you become the Dirne?” I was intrigued despite myself. This may explain the Guardian edict to avoid this star system.

The Entity spoke next. “We had become the Dirne and they were us. There was no separating the two because without us the Dirne would die. A congenital mutation had occurred and would have killed the Dirne without our continual intervention. My sister was the intellect, I was the muscle. She would map and alter the genome of the Dirne and I would implement the changes across the species. We had another motive. We thought one day, others from our galaxy might come here looking for us. Your galaxy would offer them no sport, so they would likely pass it up, unless they detected us.”

“The Guardians and the Corp would never allow rapacious aliens to destroy the galaxy, no matter how powerful you think you are. Now with the Legions of Light out there, we would be a force to be reckoned with.”

“It is good that you are here protecting your galaxy, Master Builder, but if my kind were to come to your galaxy, all of your Legions and all of your Guardians, powerful though they may be, would last one hundred of your years, maybe less. Each member of most of our races are as powerful as your Kryptonians or Daxamites and this is before they utilize our version of the Oan power. Rampant genetic technologies make every one of our people incredibly powerful and destructive. I have weakened considerably over the centuries in my current duties. You would be no match for them. It is your weakness which protects you from our kind.”

“Unless they found you here.” Faran added ominously. “I suspect they have, haven’t they?”

Then it began to make sense to me. “You are destroying the evidence, aren’t you? Erasing any trace you were here…”

The Female hung her head for a second and whispered to her Brother quietly before continuing. “We were concealing our presence but there was more than that. We were using the genome of the Dirne as a computational matrix for the complicated jump necessary to leave your galaxy. The bulk of our people still lie in stasis below the surface of our planet. Though millions of us became Dirne, billions did not. They wait for a day where we can truly be free of our kind who may follow.”

“Let me see if I have this straight: You are liquidating your “project” for its DNA so you can use them for a nav-computer to a new home far from others of your kind. Is that about right?”

“Yes, that would be the sum of it.” The Entity spit while staring daggers at me.

“And how many of the Dirne did you need to complete your computations?”

“Our goal was to relocate to the other edge of the observable Universe, so far from our kind, there would be no chance they could follow.”

“You heard the lady, how many did you need?”

“You don’t get to sit in judgement of us, John Stewart. The Dirne were ours to do with as we pleased, without us they would have been dead millennia ago!” The Entity’s stony eyes glowed brightly as he grew more excited.

“I’m not talking to him. I’m talking to you, Caretaker. Answer the damned question.”

Her robes blew around her and her head hung low. Faran’s chorus stopped singing, perhaps sensing the answer before she spoke.

“All of them.”

Rebirth © Thaddeus Howze 2013, All Rights Reserved
John Stewart, Green Lantern® and all related properties are trademarks of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. (A Time Warner Company)

Rebirth: John Stewart of Earth (4)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 28, 2013

Posted in: Comics, Fan Fiction, Serial, Short Story. Tagged: A-10 Attack craft, antimatter, cluster bomb, Dirne, Dirne IV, Entity, Green Lantern, John Stewart, Machiavelli, meteor, Power Battery, Power Ring, smart missiles, Stratofortress. 1 Comment

The mistake most people made about the ring is the idea you always know when it’s working.

Most ring wielders didn’t consider this while they were using it. Today, I put the idea of invisibility to the test. There was a reason I opened with an antimatter explosion. It meant the enemy had no idea what I was really doing and gave the false impression I didn’t have anything else in mind. Nothing focuses your mind like avoiding antimatter. Yes, it used a lot of power. Something I could not easily stand to lose.

Against an enemy this powerful, I may as well get the first shot in.

It took two minutes for the Entity that had the signature of the Great Battery of Oa to pull itself together. You can do a lot in two minutes. Floating in the stratosphere, I completed my efforts and scanned the battlefield.

I needed to make sure the creature would be where I wanted him at just the right time. I wasn’t sure if the Dirne could pull off what I needed, so I had to work my fight like they couldn’t. They were scientists, not warriors, I couldn’t depend on them in a fight.

Checking the ring, I was already down to thirty percent of the energy I charged up with and my next efforts would tax me even further. I hoped the Dirne were as good as they said they were or this was going to be ugly and short.

I detected the Entity reforming at the site. As I hoped, the explosion would dig into the crust of the planet but by tailoring the force of the explosion, more was directed upward than down. The crater was four kilometers into the surface of the planet but the entity reformed right over the pit, so what it wanted was, as I suspected, still deeper than that. Good, this would give me time and room to work.

I envisioned a B-52 bomber on a carpet bombing and watched as a Stratofortress appeared in the cloud layer over the site and began dropping its payload. I didn’t expect it to hurt the alien, I expected it to distract it by spreading the damage and keeping it off-balance. The five hundred pound explosives did exactly what I hoped they would do, disrupt the battlefield. This would be good for another thirty seconds. Just needed another two minutes.

Then I heard it’s telepathic taunt. “No stranger to war are you, Green Lantern? Good. It has been a while since I had someone to play with. Let’s play.”

I peeled right as the anti-aircraft fire exploded all around me. It’s using flak? Why? It felt like the real thing, the black smoke and shrapnel tore into my personal force field. Dodging, I began my next assault.

The Stratofortress disappeared as two A-10 flew an X pattern dropping their emerald napalm across the battlefield. I could feel the heat even as high up as I was. I could see the black smoky structures of the flak cannons disappear under the bombing assault. Then both A-10 vanished as ground to air missiles struck them. As I escalated the damage, he was changing the nature of his attacks. He was keeping the battle even. He was toying with me.

The bombing run completed and spent, the A-10’s crashed to the ground as the real things might, hoping they might distract the enemy further. They did exactly what I wanted them to. The wide smoky form had been replaced with a roughly man shaped black cloud, about fifteen feet tall.

No more wispy disjointed vague smoky targets, now a single thing to concentrate on.

Nice. Just needed another minute so. Activating stage two.

Snipers appear on a number of distant hills, each preparing their shot, and I needed to give it to them.

Flying slowly overhead, I increase the strength of my personal shield. “Play? This isn’t a game.” I needed to distract him.

“But it is. You see, where I hail from, we learn war from the time we are old enough to walk. Do you want to hear my story Green Lantern? Or should I just kill you ignorant of what you face?”

“By all means, enlighten me.” Better for me to snipe you while you talk.

“We hail from a galaxy many times larger than yours; a trillion stars would be a conservative estimate. Imagine a galaxy filled with fecund worlds each with life waiting to seek its place in the early Universe. Your Darwin would be pleased to know, such a galaxy would be the ultimate expression of his theorem, ‘Survival of the fittest.'”

He wasn’t letting me get bored while he lectured me. His technique slowly improved, his control of his energies shattered my energy shields and he kept me on the move, just barely one step ahead of him. His speed was steadily increasing. Had to take my shot while I still had one.

“Each of us vying for resources on our home worlds and soon spreading out to take over those worlds weaker than ours. We were a galaxy of supremacists, each sure of our place at the top of the chain of interstellar life. We took no prisoners and for ten million years we waged war.”

Three green constructs appeared, as snipers from Vietnam, with the visual equivalents of .50 caliber sniper rifles. But the payload was more diverse. Smart rounds split and swarmed over the battlefield, some striking, many missing. It split his attention from me while he fought and I used that time to focus my will. All of these were feints, but I was beginning to think he knew this. I had never seen anyone who could fight like this. And I knew some of the best fighters in the business.

“Warfare, it was our milk when we were children, our mechanized worlds of war when we were young, as we aged, we became leaders of battles, generals leading armies of billions. And even in our infirmary, after thousands of years if we were successful, we chose to end those lives in glorious battle as suicide warriors in strikes against enemies which had proven immune to conventional warfare.”

He had the raw power of Kilowog, the ferocity of Guy Gardner, the creativity of Kyle Rayner, he was a maestro of destruction. No more time to play around. It was time to get serious or die.

I created a regiment of constructs to split his attention. Every kind of ordinance I could imagine, everything I had ever seen, anything I thought I had ever wanted on a battlefield, I was going to push my ring to its limits.

“Green Lantern, John Stewart, you are exceeding the energy distribution protocols. At this rate, you will exhaust your ring energy in a matter of minutes.”

“At this rate, we don’t have a matter of minutes. Shut up and pour it on.”

“Override acknowledged.”

My soldier constructs poured on the firepower, their weapons flared with the renewed surge of energy and he was pushed back to where I want him to be. He was on the defensive. His shields were obscuring everything from his line of sight. He never saw it coming.

I took off seconds before the area was pelted by meteors the size of Buicks. They used to be much larger but they lost a lot of weight on their way here. White-hot, each glowed like a star.

Stolen from a nearby meteor swarm, they had been accelerated to ten percent the speed of light. Even a near miss would release megatons of energy. I had to wait until nearly the last second because I didn’t want to spook him.

I rode the shockwave of explosions and the Johnny-come-lately sonic booms from their re-entry. But I was much slower than earlier. No where near fast enough. Miles away, the shockwaves overcame my ring temporarily and I skipped across the tundra, battered, bruised before I came to a complete stop.

I shook my head and looked at my ring. Less than five percent of power remained.

Death from above. Never liked using that trick, but against someone whose abilities acted like a power-ring with ten times my ring’s profile, fighting ring to ring was simply stupid.

Kilowog would call it creative use of my surroundings.

Smoke and ash were everywhere. Radiation levels were elevated and this area would not be a safe place to be for long. My personal force field flickered on and I took to the air to return to the scene of the crime. I surveyed the damage and realized it would take a dozen GLs to correct the environmental damage I caused today.

The smoky form was lying still on the ground and I surrounded it with a prison field to isolate it. I had never seen such a life form before, so I wasn’t sure what it would take to confine it. I just erected the strongest field I could muster.

In hindsight, I realized I made a mistake. The ground beneath me reshaped itself and battered me from behind. Other giant sized fists appeared from the ground and battered me to the ground. I erected shields, none were strong enough. I was kicked around the battlefield like a soccer ball.

“Ring power, down to two percent. Recommend withdrawal.”

“You think? We’re past that.”

A few more seconds and there was no fight remaining in me. Holding me in a hand made of sand and smoke, he held me up to his eyeless face before continuing. “Your Machiavelli was noted to say: ‘Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception.’ I have enjoyed our battle, John Stewart, your facility with war, was most excellent. Your species may have lasted a few millennia where we’re from. But you would eventually be killed, because you lack follow through. You assumed a downed enemy was a defeated one; a grave tactical error.”

I tried to refocus my ring, but there was no response.

“Now, now. You’ve provided me with marvelous sport. You used every strategem someone in your position should use, textbook really. Your execution was flawless. You should be proud. Against someone with my background, to even cause me momentary distress is an accomplishment. But you’ve been properly and soundly defeated. Accept your death with the graciousness a great warrior should exemplify. Do you have any last words before you die?”

“Go to Hell.”

Rebirth © Thaddeus Howze 2013, All Rights Reserved
John Stewart, Green Lantern® and all related properties are trademarks of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. (A Time Warner Company)

Rebirth: John Stewart of Earth (3)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 27, 2013

Posted in: Comics, Fan Fiction, Serial, Short Story. Tagged: Buckminster Fuller, decompression chamber, Dirne, Dirne IV, Earth, ebonstorm, environmental suit, Green Lantern, Green Lanterns, John Stewart, Ring, tachyons, Thaddeus Howze, The Guardians, wormholes. Leave a comment

The green aircraft flew relatively low in the sky, the roar of its engines, the only mechanized sound heard. The craft tore through the thick atmosphere of the now dead planet. No ordinary vehicle, this one was composed of pure will. The will of it’s pilot intent on understanding an enemy before a confrontation.

“Analysis completed. Alien entity appears to be an uncatalogued life form.”

“Just what I wanted to hear. ‘It’s life Jim, but not as we know it.'”

“Please clarify command, John Stewart.”

“Never mind, Ring. A bit of Earth humor. Go on.”

“The scans indicate the creature is primarily composed of interwoven fields of energy with a subatomic structure interacting directly with the fabric of space. There is microscopic particulate matter of an undefined nature which may comprise the physical body of the Entity. “

“Is that how it manages to play havoc with our sensory sweeps. It can decide it’s here one minute and gone the next?”

“Such an unusual physiology gives it unknown capacities regarding its relationship to space-time. Since it is interacting at the Planck level of the of the universe, it may be capable of warping space-time directly.”

“Excuse me Green Lantern? Er, do you have a name?” The Dirne citizen looked pretty indistinguishable from any other member of their species. Bilaterally symmetrical, they appeared cosmetically similar to humans but their physical structure showed generations of genetic manipulation. Their super-sensitive skin was rust colored, with tiny variations too tiny even for the human eye to recognize, but the Dirne claimed they had over five thousand color shade distinctions.

Dirne faces were smooth with only eye indentation and no external ears, their slightly larger heads housed a powerful multi-lobed brain. Descending from an aquatic environment, their entire body was a sensory organ whose collective light absorbing capacity was ten thousand times human acuity. A patch of their skin the size of a dime, could perceive as effectively as a human eye with 20/20 vision and hear as well as a cat, well within the 40,000 Hertz range.

Recorded data storage showed the Dirne wore loose-fitting diaphanous robes, which gave them the ability to perceive each other fully and interpret their changing radiation signatures, another more subtle and yet advanced communication. By vibrating membranes near what humans would call their vocal cords, the Dirne could communicate using sound. Much slower than human speech, their vibrations were rich in nuance, each tone having a specific meaning. To human ears they sounded much like crickets. From inside their environmental suits, they must have been feeling as blind as bats.

“You can call me John. John Stewart of Earth.”

“Please call me, Faran alb Dine. I am the chief engineer of the power facility you rescued us from. We have tried to be patient while you have performed your investigations but I believe we may be able to help. May I interact with that display you are using?”

“Sure. Ring, grant access and create a viable interface for Faran alb Dine and her associates.”

“In progress. Converting visual data. Interface developing. Translating. Complete.”

Faran stared intently and then motioned to her fellows who leaned over from their seats. Stewart altered the information display into a three dimensional structure capable of being seen by everyone. At first silence and then as if an insect swarm had invaded the tiny ship, untranslated chittering commenced.

“Okay, calm down. One at a time. Faran? Something you want to tell me?”

“No, John Stewart of Earth. I do not want to tell you.”

“You can tell me, or I can have the ring go second by second and translate your conversation. As a Green Lantern we record every interaction we engage in. I would prefer you tell me and make it easy for me to understand.”

“How much do you know about your omni-device?” Faran asked.

“The power ring? Enough to use it. Enough to exercise my will over its programming.”

“It’s underlying technology?”

“Honestly, very little. The Guardians are so advanced, their technology might as well be magic to me. We are trained in how to use the ring, what its limitations are, how to get the best performance out of it and how to be the best Green Lanterns we can be. It converts our conscious will into physical intent. The underlying technology only matters to species who can actually understand how it works and even they admit to being a bit baffled at times. So if our problem requires me to understand the fundamental underpinnings of my ring, we’re in trouble.”

“Then I shall endeavor to make this as simple as possible. I recognized the energy signature of the creature because it utilized the same technology we do in our power plants. It used “inflation energy” to power its transformations and destruction in our environment.”

Inflation energy, I remembered being taught the Universe was once smaller than an atom and when it engaged in the Big Bang, it expanded faster than the speed of light. This energy was called “inflation” and as the universe expanded, this was the energy of that expansion. As far as we knew, inflation was still happening, moving everything in the universe farther apart.

This energy would be nigh infinite and inexhaustible. It could also be potentially unstable if not properly understood. A mistake would make an antimatter accident look like Pop Rocks.

“We mastered antimatter, thousands of years ago but to allow us to develop faster than light ships, we needed better and more efficient energy. We crosses the threshold to zero-point energy and this gave us new realms of matter and energy transformations. Though there were minor accidents during the development, within a few lifetimes, we were able to harness these energies with no risk to ourselves or our civilizations. Imagine our surprise to discover others had learned to use similar technologies but not always for beneficial means. The Malthusians were also utilizing this energy and one of them even tried to harness it directly from the First Source.”

She meant the rogue Guardian, Krona. He altered the fabric of the Universe causing rips and shears across time and space distorting and folding the universe in upon itself several times. On Earth, these disruptions caused the parallel universes we are rediscovering. “Those problems were corrected by the Malthusians; we call them the Guardians now.”

Farad’s tone became strident and short. “Those corrections, as you called them, distorted time and space for worlds across our galaxy and my people were nearly wiped out as these perturbations caused our power supplies to become unstable and destroyed entire planets in the wake of that work. We never forgave the Malthu, er Guardians for their hubris and when their Manhunter experiment went rogue we knew we had made the correct choice in avoiding their organizations.”

“What does this have to do with our problem now?”

“On Dirne, we have a saying: ‘A problem not studied is a problem unsolved.’ I shall present you with a conundrum. Compare these two signatures and I shall identify one. This one is your omni-device, your power ring. Note the distinctive and unique energy curve, inflation energy transformation and non-baryonic matter display. Your device converts dark matter and dark energy into a matrix of energy able to be manipulated by your intent. The constructs generated appear to be only as real as the interface user perceives them to be. Each user can affect the underlying reality based on their level of understanding. Since the constructs you create are made from non-baryonic matter, as soon as you stop concentrating on them, they return to their naturally non-material state.”

Wow. A better explanation than the Guardians ever gave. Complete with graphics.

“I think I understand. Each user affects reality based on their understanding of it. If you are not a scientist, you visualize what you want and then the ring attempts to make it happen utilizing the inherent preponderance of dark matter and converting dark energy into conventional energies. The conversion process is normally energetic the same way converting matter into energy produces more energy than would be readily apparent.”

“Correct. Now look at this second signature. Does it look familiar?”

It did. But its amplitude was far greater than anything on the first curve. It was at least one hundred times more powerful. “This can’t be right. Nothing doing this could possibly exist. Ring, confirm hypothesis.” The ring was silent as it ran its analysis and in less than a minute, it’s reply was exactly what I didn’t want to hear.

“John Stewart, the hypothesis is potentially flawed. The Great Battery of Oa has a similar profile and amplitude. Such artifacts would be extremely rare but completely within the potential development of Guardian science.”

“Do you recognize this as a Guardian project?”

There was a pause, perhaps a tenth of a second before the reply: “This information is classified. Any attempt to access such data further will be reported to the Guardians.”

“Now do you understand why we didn’t want to tell you? If we are correct, you are facing a creature, likely of Guardian design, whose capacities dwarf your own. Capable of utilizing constructs and energy conversion technology on a scale ten times your own.”

A timer indicated a two minute countdown to arrival at the predefined coordinates. As the six of them approached the underground facility, they could see spears of smoke forming around the base, forming into more substantial shapes. Humanoids made of grey smoke. They approached the entry points on the above ground station. Doors refused to open preventing the smoke forms access. The smoke tore at the doors and in a few seconds reshaped themselves until they could pry the doors apart.

Sparks flew and the contest between the smoke entities and the security doors was never in doubt.

“Any bright ideas? Now would be a good time.”

“As a matter of fact, we do. But we will need time to implement it.”

“In other words, you need me to stall for time.”

“If we survive, we need to tweak your translation matrix. We need you to “delay the enemy” while we work on a countermeasure to its power manipulation abilities.'”

“Stall for time. How much do you need?”

“At least ten minutes.”

“Stall for time with an enemy at least ten times as powerful as I am. Keep him from noticing you and killing me. Piece of cake.”

“Excuse me?”

“Translation error. Don’t be late.”

John exited the craft after conferring briefly with Farad alb Dine. He floated down to the smoky grey forms attempting to penetrate the security doors. The alien it seemed was all to eager to mock him. “Green Lantern of Earth. Your help has been invaluable. What I seek is buried deep directly below me.”

“Funny. I was hoping the exact same thing.”

I can’t believe I am about to take a page from Guy’s book. On the other hand, a stopped clock can be right twice a day.

With his ring flaring and bleeding wild energy, John Stewart severed the bonds of local matter beneath the creature and inserted antiparticles in their place. The resultant antimatter explosion could be seen from space and liberated a percentage of the atmosphere in the blast; an environmental catastrophe John hoped to repair. If he survived.

The Farad alb Dine and her fellow scientists stopped working; they were at some considerable distance and protected by John’s ship construct, in momentary horror as the light from the explosion ended.

Knowing it would not be enough, they worked feverishly as the wisps of the smoke-like alien began to reform in the tortured ruins.

Jump to Rebirth (Part 4)

Rebirth © Thaddeus Howze 2013, All Rights Reserved
John Stewart, Green Lantern® and all related properties are trademarks of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. (A Time Warner Company)

Rebirth: John Stewart of Earth (2)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 24, 2013

Posted in: Comics, Fan Fiction, Serial, Short Story. Tagged: Buckminster Fuller, decompression chamber, Dirne, Dirne IV, ebonstorm, environmental suit, Green Lantern, Green Lanterns, John Stewart, Ring, tachyons, Thaddeus Howze, wormholes. Leave a comment

The smoke-like entity was all around me. It obscured the stars in a way nothing ever had. I had used my power ring to look through nebulas using neutrinos for a light source. Whatever this was had less substance than that. Yet, I could not see through it using any technology I knew of.

A few seconds later, it vanished. A broad spectrum sweep revealed nothing. No energy, no matter, no signature that it had ever been there. The stars returned and the subspace corridor entry points reappeared to my enhanced senses.

There was nothing but a floating graveyard to ever prove anything was there. And the echo of its pronouncement.

“An incoming signal from the planet is detected on a low frequency wavelength. Translating. Message repeats.”

“…this is an automated distress beacon from Science Station, Toleph, requesting support. Containment has failed. Biohazard threat level is high. Recommend hazardous materials support.”

How convenient. No signals until after the monster left. A trap.

Okay, I’d come this far and still didn’t have any answers. I’d play along. “Erect hazardous material biofilters for all known contagions. Unless otherwise noted assume no planetary materials should come in contact with me. Maintain shield posture.” Shaping my ring aura, I tailored it for maximum efficiency as I sliced through the atmosphere. The temporary heat bloom passed as I appeared over one of the main megacities.

A twenty minute flight into the atmosphere of the Dirne IV did not make me feel any better. I could see the scars of aircraft that tore into the surface of the planet as they fell from the air. Some of the ruins were still smoking. Beyond that, much of the planet’s automated power was still active. The machines of this world lived even if the people didn’t.

There was something that bothered me but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Atmospheric scans didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary. No pathogens as compared with previous atmospheric surveys. Previous scans of the people of Dirne IV would have had no problems from this current atmosphere. Then I realized what was strange.

I wanted to have a sample of the current citizens and I realized there were no bodies. Not a single one in this city. A circular scan revealed not a single person on the surface of the planet. Broadening the sweep a second scan below the surface revealed isolated pockets of biomatter but only in places with dense materials around them. The closest was from the city right below me.

The biosignatures were from seven kilometers below ground. Even though the atmosphere scans said they were clear, I didn’t want to expose these survivors to whatever killed everyone else on the planet.

“Ring, I want fifteen constructs to find the closest, fastest route to the survivors. I don’t want to have to break any walls, or disrupt any infrastructure that might be protecting them. Get me as close as you can.” The ring responded flaring brightly and shooting fifteen small fireworks out that streaked across the surface attempting to penetrate the ground before disappearing from sight. Looking into the ring, I could see the three dimensional paths each beam took as it moved into the undercity. Only three beams were able to reach reasonably close to the survivors, the others winked out of existence as they failed to get closer.

Scans revealed they were part of a geothermal power team in a hardened underground facility. Sealed during operations and within biosuits to deal with the increased temperatures and pressures, they were twice protected. I could barely scan for them. Which meant whatever killed Dirne IV may not have known they were there.

I ceased my scans. But not in time.

I saw the trailers of the smoke rising from the ground, the same light absorbing vapor I detected in space. Then the ground beneath my feet began to rumble as a massive earthquake tore through the area.

“Quake detected, capacity to destroy hardened underground facility possible in three minutes.”

So much for being subtle. Whatever the hell this stuff was, it wanted everyone on this planet dead. Launching myself into the air, I envisioned a reinforced tunnel straight to the powerplant. Something that grew stronger as pressure increased on it; something Buckminster Fuller could appreciate. The chamber formed below me, I used the power of the earthquake to my advantage since it was destabilizing the planet, I didn’t have to tunnel so much as simply wedge it open and keep it that way. I saw the structure necessary and built it, reinforcing it as needed. A second tendril small and fast maintained a lock on the technicians. They were running to a transport system hoping to outrun the quake.

Not gonna happen, gents. Somebody wants you dead.

We raced through the crust of the planet. It was all around me, but it didn’t attack. It’s focus was solely on the Dirne below us. I couldn’t keep using its disruptions. I was already pushing my power, six kilometers into the surface of the planet, the pressures were immense. But whatever I was racing had not let up it’s assault. My ring detected quake forces at eight point five and climbing. The engineering of the Dirne must have been fantastic, because the site was still holding up. But no matter how good they were at building, most materials began to tear themselves apart at forces above nine point five.

I was going to have to take the lead. My ring was already pushed to the limit and I felt the feedback common to reaching one’s limits. Pinpoints of sweat formed on my forehead. Fighting with constructs in space is easy. Nothing to get in the way. Tunneling through planets at kilometers below the surface was a completely different experience.

You had to keep track of the matter, the forces, the shearing stresses and create a means to compensate for them. I knew this math intuitively being an architect, my ring translated my knowledge into reality as I add a second beam to the tunnel, blasting through the crust with a drill construct, grinding up the matter and using it as a power source to push faster than the planet disrupting shockwaves of the Entity.

I was slowly moving ahead of it. I was six seconds, seven seconds, eight seconds ahead. The power plant was underneath me. My power broke through the ceiling of the plant and I targeted the Dirne below. My drill became a spring loaded grapple shooting out to grab five of the six. One of them had already managed to make it the underground tram and was about to leave his fellows behind.

Couldn’t reach him in time and save the others. Made my choice.

As I pulled the others back toward my tunnel, I could feel the creature arrive on the scene and black smoke speared toward the tram. It tore through the metal and grabbed the Dirne. It swirled around him as if seeking weaknesses. I pulled the other survivors up the corridor allowing it to collapse behind them. I left only the tiniest bit of my green power behind to observe the Entity. The rest of my will was focused on maintaining the environmental conditions necessary to keep the Dirne from being overcome by the rapid change in pressure. I surrounded them in a bubble which acted as a decompression chamber. I depended on the ring to provide the metrics to keep them alive while I focused on collapsing the tunnel.

With the fragment of my consciousness remaining, I viewed the last Dirne as the smoke penetrated his suit and stripped the flesh from its internal skeleton. Seconds later, it consumed the skeleton and the suit behind it to escape. Then the form coalesced from around the room and then speared toward my sensor and the path created by my will. I didn’t intend to be here when it reached the surface.

Pulling the environmental bubble behind me, I put some distance between the surface and the Entity. I could feel the life energies of the survivors through the ring’s feedback. They had questions, but I didn’t have time to answer them. I reshaped their life support field into a superfast aircraft. Hal might be able to do this faster, but right now I was motivated and I kept several designs in my ring for just this occasion. Seated in the center of the ship construct, I punched it and headed toward the distress signal on the next continent at twelve times the speed of sound. Only inertial dampening kept us from being crushed like bugs on a windshield.

Instead, it felt like a boot from a giant.

The city vanished below the horizon in ten minutes. I altered course since I wasn’t sure whether the Entity had any idea of where I was going next. I kept my signature low and reduced my power output until I could shield us completely and reduced our output signature. We became a ghost in the air, using no more ring energy than necessary.

Once the Dirne were properly pressurized, I ditched the environmental bubble, but told them to keep their suits on. I replenished their air supplies and had the ring repair any damage to their suits. To keep our energy output low, I landed in the snow and created a sled big enough to carry us and the accompanying dogs necessary to drag us where we wanted to go. We moved fast and below the radar. I didn’t reduce speed until we were near the facility.

Unlike the megacity, this appeared to be a tiny outpost at the polar cap, a nasty environment, too. Below zero temperatures, strong winds, and blinding snow. I didn’t think we would be able to see anything until we got close to the site.

We were wrong. Fires raged across the landscape and glowed brightly through the falling snow. A black smoke speared scattering Dirne-shapes in the light of these fires.

Pinned to the ground, their screams were cut short as they were turned into piles of black ash.

We were too late. The smoke coalesced and shot off into the distance. Toward another location I detected earlier. It used me.

I hated to be used. Being a Green Lantern meant we liked to take the high road, remain civilized, and resolve difficulties between species in a civil fashion.

I was so past that.

“Who here wants a little payback?”

I waited for the ring to translate. Some ideas didn’t translate well and you ended up getting responses from amusement to outright confusion.

Standing around in the burning facility with piles of ash where Dirne used to be, must have added the right context.

Five hands shot up.

I made the fastest ship I could think of.

Jump to Rebirth (Part 3)
Rebirth © Thaddeus Howze 2013, All Rights Reserved
John Stewart, Green Lantern® and all related properties are trademarks of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. (A Time Warner Company)

Rebirth: John Stewart of Earth (1)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 23, 2013

Posted in: Comics, Fan Fiction, Uncategorized. Tagged: Astronomical Unit (AU), Dirne IV, ebonstorm, Green Lantern, Green Lanterns, hyperspace corridor, John Stewart, Ring, tachyons, Thaddeus Howze, wormholes. 3 Comments

My name is John Stewart. I am Green Lantern of sector 2814.

Wait, let me rephrase that.

I am one of four Green Lanterns for this sector. The best known is Hal Jordan, the most obnoxious is Guy Gardner, the most powerful is Kyle Rayner. I am the other Lantern.

Rarely talked about except in certain circles. But I don’t mind. Earth isn’t the only game in town, anymore. Out here, where the stars grow far apart and civilization is hard to find, everyone likes to know there is a bit of order in a chaotic universe.

People call us space cops, but we are more than just cops. We are the Peace Corps helping people improve their chances at civilization in an increasingly hostile universe. We are the Red Cross bringing aid to planets in need, repairing damage caused by natural phenomena. While we don’t provide financial aid, the rings allow us to help with rebuilding efforts, for the few Lanterns with any architectural talent. When the times demand it, we are the Marines; first on the beach bringing the pain to invaders who would trade in sentient life, steal necessary resources or even entire planets.

I’m not complaining either. To paraphrase the only credible line from Sergeant Apone in Aliens: A day in the Green Lantern Corps is like a day on the farm. Every meal’s a banquet! Every paycheck a fortune! Every formation a parade! I LOVE the Corps!

If we only actually got paid. The Guardians think the privilege of being a member of the greatest law enforcement agency in the galaxy is reward enough.

And damn their little bald blue heads, they’re right.

I wouldn’t trade this job for a barrel of gold monkeys.

Maybe for two barrels. Okay, three barrels, for sure.

I once thought I was the most likely of the four to stay on Earth. After the Color Wars, I realized I didn’t have much left holding me there. Being a bit of a workaholic, I directed my energies into the only thing I had left. I know what you’re thinking. I could have given up the ring. It’s not like there weren’t already enough GLs out there to do the job. Seventy two hundred Green Lanterns and a smattering of others Color Corps out there doing whatever their rings and their disposition allowed.

Space is big. Plenty of room out here. Too much space to be flying around and hoping you are going to run across anything by accident. Star Trek spoiled the hell out of me. Had me thinking I would just run across something every week. Not a chance. Space is like an ocean without a border. You don’t run into anything out here by accident.

I collapsed the four dimensional construct I had been sitting inside of floating above Oa. After what we’d been through recently, I needed to be close to Oa, but not too close. I was about ready to take my show on the road again. Policing the spaceways required technology, time and patience. I spent the last week in meditation on my planetary buoys in the inhabited star systems in 2814.

I created this system, allowing me to monitor activities across my entire sector without having to spend too much time wandering around. These were more useful when I was spending more time on Earth, but there’s no reason they can’t be as useful now. I designed the first one while I was on Oa with Salaak, back when I first became a Lantern. Back in those days, the Guardians monitored space using their big blue brains and just told us where to go.

Didn’t seem very efficient to me. I also wondered what would happen if the Guardians were to go on vacation, or got an attitude, or decided to spend a week in the bathroom. Space is so big, it simply didn’t make sense to me how we could cover such a wide area, even with the capacities of the ring, it took time and effort to reach distant locations at the edge of your sector.

Seeding these self-replicating drones across the sector, each could monitor inhabited worlds and report back to Oa using entangled communications, instantaneous, no matter how far apart they were. It took years to seed the planets but I thought it was worth the effort. While the Guardians won’t admit to it, I figured out my designs were becoming standard issue in the new Corps.

The signal relay technologies were invisible to most planetary star systems and those with the capacity to find them were asked if they wanted the support of the Corps. If they said no, we didn’t seed their worlds and would respond to requests, as fast as we were able, once we learned of their dilemma. It could take weeks, or months. If you lived on the fringe of our sector system, it might take up to two years using our fastest technology.

Today, it appeared one of those worlds wanted to chat. Half a dozen years ago, Dirne IV had originally refused our request to seed their planet. Three years later, something changed, perhaps local politics and a request for a signal relay was made and granted. I used to fly by when time permitted and their worlds always seemed peaceful and prosperous. I received the message from one of the new Guardians who politely requested I head to Dirne IV and investigate a planet whose technology would have made them a galactic power, if they weren’t so isolationist. The case seemed different than the standard ‘protect my planet from this incursion, Green Lantern‘ mission so common to our duty roster.

These were the missions I enjoyed the most. I love ring-slinging as much as the next Lantern. I think I was made for more than that, though. Diplomatic missions, science, and investigation ranked higher on my list than our standard, ring ‘construct: mace’ bash alien head. Can’t head out without a full charge. Never knew who you might meet. Reaching into my subspace pocket, I pulled out my Lantern. I could mooch from the prime battery on Oa but I was just not feeling all that social today. Everyone was still raw from the Darkest Night. Getting off of Oa was just what I needed.

“In brightest day, in blackest night, let no evil escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might, beware my power, Green Lantern’s light!”

Putting my lantern back, I located a hyperspace corridor heading to Dirne IV. There were several in that area, the star system of the Dirne ran through a cluster of populated worlds several light years apart.

The hyperspace corridor I used criss-crossed my sector at various points and was faster than making my own wormholes. Used less energy too. Dropping out of the hyperspace lane and what I saw was wreckage; tens of thousands of ships. I also couldn’t orient myself visually. The star Dirne Prime was not visible, but its gravitational tug was evident. In fact, no stars were easily visible, as if I was seeing them through a smoke or particulate matter.

“Ring, activate defense protocols. Extreme configuration. Cloak against broad spectrum EM detection.”

“Personal shield, layered, cloaking field activated.”

“Run a covert, tight beam sweep of the area, out to maximum in system range of 5 AU, short range scan first. No tachyons. At the first indication of activity, drop sweep and range to target.”

“Acknowledged. Such a slow sweep will take hours.”

Looks like we missed the party. “We’ve got time.”

The hyperspace corridor was a construct designed to let ships enter Dirne space at this location. Judging from the debris, the Dirne had blockaded this point. I recognized the Dirnese ships from the Oan database. It’s what I didn’t see that worried me more.

There were ships everywhere, but none of them belonged to the enemy.

Whoever did this didn’t lose a ship.

I stole a bit of scanning bandwidth back from the ring and listened on what would be local com traffic. Nothing but silence. I swept the entire spectrum and the only thing I found were data-drive satellites attempting to share their collected with the ground computers. Nothing on the ground moved either.

The planet, Dirne IV was silent as the grave.

Then I had a terrible realization. What if this is an internal affair? Maybe there were no alien ships because this was a civil dispute.

“Ring, I need a confirmation and a local scan. Is there any indication there would be another species or civilization’s energy signature, residue, or weapons residue remaining? I need to confirm the hypothesis of this being a civil war? Did these ships destroy each other?”

The ring’s answer was not illuminating, nor satisfying, “while there is evidence of friendly-fire. Ninety-eight percent of these ships were destroyed by a means of energy damage which killed the people, but left the ships behind.”

“What was the last population survey of the planet Dirne IV?” I dreaded the answer. Being able to make this many ships indicated a fantastic infrastructure in this local star system alone.

“They were last surveyed by the Guardians, three hundred cycles ago. The planet below was host to 15 billion sentients. Relatively underpopulated, most of the people living there were engaged in scientific preservation of what is believed to be their planet of origin.” The Dirne had spread throughout this entire star system, taking over the four inner rocky planets and two dozen moons and asteroid bases. The total species population was 438 billion, calculated to a three decimal place margin of error.

Nothing like precision.

My ring continued, “The completed scan of the star system indicates there are no active bases left on the planet and most of the closer worlds are also inactive as well. The farther moons and worlds will take tachyon scans to confirm and are not advised under our low visibility profile. Anomaly detected. Subspace rift, transitioning into c-space.”

“You will find no sign of life anywhere here, Green Lantern of Earth. I have seen to that. A blight on the face of the galaxy has been destroyed.”

There was a reason I didn’t see Dirne Prime. Whatever this object was, it was big, bigger than a planet.

It’s so big it blocks the light of the star. Dirne IV and I are inside of it…

Jump to Rebirth (Part 2)

Rebirth © Thaddeus Howze 2013, All Rights Reserved
John Stewart, Green Lantern® and all related properties are trademarks of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. (A Time Warner Company)

Small Fish, Big City (5)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 14, 2013

Posted in: Big City, Fantasy, horror, Serial, Short Story, Small Fish. Tagged: Agent Six, Big City, Central City, ebonstorm, Fisherman, Grey Man, kami, Netherverse, spirits, Thaddeus Howze, The Grey Men, Western City, young adult. 1 Comment

The Grey Man woke at 6:00 AM.

He didn’t use an alarm clock. His cool grey eyes snapped open and his augmented awareness absorbed his surroundings. He woke every day at six unless he was required to do some work outside his normal job.

The bitter smell of his morning coffee assaulted his senses and he rose quickly from his bed, making it with machine-like precision. His automated coffee maker had already produced his morning coffee and he took it black. It was something domestic, not too exotic, and well within his expense account but not found on common shelves. This was the only indulgence that he enjoyed. The cigars he sold in his shop were for other people, he only used them when needed.

Six minutes after six, he was in his private gymnasium putting his body through its morning paces. His morning workout would be limited in duration, he would do his real workout later in the day assuming there was no work necessary for him to perform. There was no sound except for him moving across the mat, as he heated up, his breathing increased but only slightly. It wasn’t until he was moving in a perfect kata, faster and faster, that he began to sweat.

Switching his regimen, his workout included weights, isometric exercise, striking exercises with his wooden man and bo, jo and escrima sticks. At the peak weights, there were momentary twinges in his muscles and joints. Twinges that were becoming all to familiar and a sign he needed a Second. He worked out fiercely for exactly sixty-six minutes.

He had a gun range, but it was for others who might stay with him during their training. He rarely had a need to practice his shooting. It was always perfect.

Dripping sweat, he returned to his walk-in closet and passed his functional and grey outfits into his spacious bathroom. He took a shower and it lasted exactly six minutes; never longer, never shorter. Discipline was life.

Finished showering, he dried himself with a grey towel and noted the dark circles forming under his eyes. His skin had a sallow tone, but he was healthy despite his appearance. His eyes, once dark, had slowly lightened over the years of his employment and taken on the telltale grey color common to all Grey Men. Not that anyone would notice, because most of the time he wore a pair of shades, quite fashionable, that concealed this particular fact.

Once he was dry, he applied the Olio. Staring at himself in the full length mirror, he began applying the Olio, across his entire body. He felt it enter his pores and take over his thinking making his thoughts cooler, smoother, less cluttered. His senses, already acute, became tuned to another wavelength and he could see the Netherspace as just another subset of his visual prowess. Comprised of contradiction and made from various ingredients it had no smell.

While wearing it, he would be between all contradictions, neither here nor there, between pain and pleasure, neither left nor right, not good or evil. This was his real power, to be between all things choosing only what he wanted to be true. Or what his Masters wanted to be true.

The Olio was their creation and its powers and abilities were through their beneficence. He owed his existence to them and fulfilled his obligation with aplomb, no matter the task. By the time the salve had been completely applied, he was mentally tuned to another world just outside of our line of sight. The ritual of application centered his thinking and he began to consider his assignment as he began to dress.

He picked out a grey suit (indeed, he only owned grey suits) but he had a wide array of them. Today he chose something nearly black, for the work of the day would be something somber and he felt he should look the part. The smoky color of his suit was complemented by a white shirt and grey tie. Fitting his tie clip he slipped into a black pair of his working shoes. Rubber-soled, fantastically comfortable and custom fitted. The last years had taught him to value comfort even while his discipline claimed he should eschew it. Discipline allowed him to ignore pain but experience said life was not and should not always be about pain.

It was this thinking that was causing him difficulty in his work. He was feeling an increasing need to understand his role in the greater scheme of things. As a Grey Man, he was supposed to be a cog in the Great Machine, a part of the hidden world subduing the Netherverse and its insidious capricious nature. But he had begun to question the Great Machine, its motivations, its goals and how he could be party to it.

He could feel the Olio, smoothing his dissent, keeping him focused, calming his fears; returning him to the Center.

He put on his jacket and placed a cigar in his pocket in case he needed to use one before he got to the office. He put on his shades and his uniform was complete. He picked up his empty briefcase knowing he would need it before the day was over. He stopped briefly to pick up his phone and ear bud from the charging pad, placing one in his pocket and the other in his ear.

As soon as he placed the bud in his ear, he heard the comforting buzz of the Network. Information regarding aspects of Big City and the state of the Netherverse at the edges of the city. Traffic reports, encroachment rates, nonconformity waves, dark dwellers and all of the hazards of Big City he was trained to handle and many he had in his thirty years as a Grey Man, yet to face. Settling down and allowing the information of the Network to flow over his inner ear, he walked downstairs and the doorman seeing him directed a valet to bring his car around.

The valet was new. A young man from the outer districts. Chaos flowed all around him, waves of color bled into the Netherverse. The Grey Man could see his fear, flowing in palpable waves.

The boy hopped out of the convertible and walked toward the grey suited individual. He held out the keys and prepared to give them over. The Grey Man could see the question forming in the boy’s presence.

“Yes?”

The boy was taken aback, but only for a second, mentally committed he surged forward. “Is it true you are a Grey Man?”

“It is not a secret.”

“Why do you live here in the Western Quarter? Shouldn’t you be in the Central City?”

“We go where we’re needed, young man. But that isn’t the question you want answered, now is it?”

It wasn’t. The boy looked into the sunglasses of the Grey Man, trying to find a hint of humanity. “It’s said the Grey Men protect us from unseen threats. Is this true?”

Ah. The real question approaches. “What do you think?”

“I’ve seen things at night. Things no one wants to explain to me.” The boy looked hesitantly at his valet captain who was subtly shaking his head in the negative.

“There are things in the night, but know we are always there to keep order in Big City. Do you know where you have seen these things?” The voice of the Grey Man was subtle and hypnotic, modulated to enhance memory in the boy but to also enhance his truthful response.

“Yes, I can show you. We can go right now.”

There was a pulse in the Network. Something large, something dangerous. Reports flowed in, each giving information about the threat. Subterranean, train station, casualties. A request. “Senior Agent requested on scene, please respond.”

“This is Agent Six. I am within the Western Quarter. I will be on site in six minutes.”

“This is Control. Acknowledged, Six. Backup is en-route.”

“I’m sorry, young man, I will have to take a raincheck. There is something to which I must attend first. We will speak of this later.” The Grey Man placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and willed Order into him. All of the traces of the kami on him, in him, surrounding him were instantly dispelled. The boy’s trembling emotional state was instantly calmed and he appeared to be calm and relaxed.

With the tiniest of effort, the Grey Man would be able to find this boy again and monitor him. There was sufficient kami influence to warrant the effort. They boy may live near a rupture. To find and close a major rupture would be an excellent way to close a career.

The Grey Man noted, not for the first time, how his efforts had not managed to make the City feel any safer to him. Not at all. He lit his cigar as he drove away. He would need its smoke soon enough. He might as well enjoy it for a bit before then.

Domestication of the Other

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 7, 2013

Posted in: 5 Minute Fiction, science fiction, Short Story. Tagged: aliens, fairy tales, genetic engineering, Little Red Riding Hood, the Other. 1 Comment

Expose yourself to your deepest fear. After that…you are free. — Jim Morrison

She comes. Today is the day.

We will avenge our kin.

The morning fog lay over the forest, deadening all sounds even to ears such as his. But he was not using his ears today. Today, her scent told him she was coming. She smelled of her hearth, smoky and bitter, the smell of rushes clung to her feet. The clay dyes, used to color her cloak made her smell of the earth, cool and hard. She has had her winter bath. Water is hard to come by for the two legs, so they bathe sparingly.

We are grateful for this. We are able to recognize them long before they can see us.

It hasn’t helped us to survive.

When she entered the clearing she stopped. Her leather boots squished in the mud and her cloak was pulled over her head. It protected her from the torrent. She stood still and looked into the forest ahead of her. They waited for her. The last two. He told her they would be there. He went into the forest and did not return. He told her he would not. It was time for her to be on her own.

“I know you’re there. Come out.”

Why would we do that? We have eaten her father. We can just wait.

Why should we wait. I think we should devour her now. Her clan has all but killed ours. We can end this today.

You don’t understand.

What is there to understand? We killed her father. I thought it would be harder. You can wait if you like. I can wait no longer.

The large grey wolfen strode forth from the forest, twelve hands at the shoulder. He towered over the child.

“I am here. I am your Death child. Why did you call me forth? Do you plan to beg for your life?”

“Did my father?”

“Yes.”

“You lie. He would never beg for his life. You did not know him.”

How could she know?

“You are not from here. Your look, your color, your scent says you are from far away. You do not know my family at all.”

“You are but Men, the Other. Namers of beasts, growers of grass, makers of fire. Of the three, only the making of fire impresses me.”

The child looked at the wolfen, stared deeply into its eyes.

Why am I so afraid of her? What does she know that she can look at me and I quiver in fear? I have nothing to fear. I will consume her. NOW!

“So why don’t you? You’re thinking you should eat me now. I am just a little girl, after all?”

The wolfen hesitated. He bared his fangs but it was the baring of indecision not conquest, not domination. It was just shy of fear and submission.

“My father killed one hundred of your kind by the time he was twelve years old. Unlike your kind, we grow weaker with age. When he came to you today, he was relinquishing his power to me. In my current state, I could kill a thousand of you as easily as I breathe. I am only nine years old.”

It isn’t possible. It defies all that I know to be true. Age is power. Size is strength. The sharpest fang tears the deepest wound. She has none of those things.

“I will tell you one more thing. Then you leave or join me. Any other decision is death for you.”

“Look up.” The storm had subsided and the sky cleared showing the last stars before sunrise. “See that star right there. The dim one. My family and all like me came from that world. We were the last survivors of a world poisoned by our greed and filth. We were forced to change ourselves to survive there. Then we learned how to travel from our world to yours. But your people were stronger than mine then. We were forced to change ourselves one last time. Now your world will belong to us. The question is, will you be allies or blankets on cold nights.”

The wolfen bristled. His fur rose, spiky, hard as steel, he bared his fangs, his decision made. He never saw her move.

“Blanket.”

The cooling body of the wolfen lay at her feet. Wiping her hands on her blood red cloak, she approached the second wolfen who was too paralyzed to move.

No other words were spoken. She handed him a meatpie from her basket. He bent low allowing her to climb on. They would make better time to the next town.

red_riding_hood_by_tiobolasdoro-d4dupvp

Small Fish, Big City (4)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 7, 2013

Posted in: Big City, Fantasy, horror, Serial, Short Story, Small Fish. Tagged: Big City, Central City, ebonstorm, Fisherman, kami, Matthew, sakana, spirits, Thaddeus Howze, Western City, young adult. Leave a comment

Big City revealed a secret to Matthew; it was a place of hidden wonder and subtle malevolence.

After such a day of revelation, a bath eased the physical aches and pains and sliding into the cool sheets and fluffy pillow took the edge off the idea this place was now home.

The trips back and forth to his old home in Red Springs, for the last three weeks cemented the idea he would never return to that place. Yesterday was the last day he would see the town of his birth. For a while, at least. His father was forced to move to Big City for work as well, so he would still be able to have weekends with his father.

Like most teens, Matthew wasn’t the tidiest of fellows, leaving his clothing in the bathroom before dropping off to sleep. Clare, equally tired, cleaned up after him and tossed his clothes into his laundry basket in his room. She didn’t bother to empty his pockets considering that beyond her capacity at the moment. Just as well, she would not have been able to explain the slowly moving objects in his pockets.

Stressed, tired, and just a little befuddled, Matthew drifted to sleep. His dreams were fitful and strange, filled with images of a variety of fish, assorted creatures with tentacles, some that resembled octopus and squid and others that resembled sharks with extra appendages, slipping smoothly through the night sky of his dreams.

Matthew saw himself looking out the window of his apartment on the eight floor, in apartment eight and watching a world of strange fish swimming by as if he were in a celestial aquarium. There were luminescent jellyfish and darting silver eels. An occasional giant turtle might wing past his building before returning to the dark.

Matthew had never been one for museums. He didn’t hate them, but since his family had begun to have problems, his attention for them had diminished. He had never dreamed of uncooked food swimming in the wild, and if he had told his mother about it she would have assumed his pizza had given him the altered state pizza is famous for.

But it was far more than just a dream. This felt real. These creatures were looking at him, just like he looked at them. He was aware but not awake.

The first fish kami woke, breaking the salt crust which bound his spiritual essence in this dried fish form. He was ravenous. How long had he been like this? Damned Fishermen. He swore he would never be caught again. He sensed another fish kami and knew what he had to do. Eat or be eaten.

The second kami woke and realized the danger he was in, puffed himself up, tearing through the salt crust and lashed out hoping he was in time. The two wrestled around each other, their essence filling the closet before spilling into the room.

Then Matthew felt something. The air became heavy, hard to breathe, and a presence could be felt in his room, the air was thick, like water and his closet door flew open and he saw them.

Each was the size of a man, mouths open and swimming through the air. Their jaws looked more like saw blades, rich with shining silvered teeth. Their bodies were glowing with an inner light and their thrashing seemed to stir the air and whip objects from shelves, knocking over boxes and Matthew as well.

Other kami looking through his window, sensed the danger. They crowded around his window to see what could produce such a terrifying spiritual essence and when they saw it, half fled without looking back as fast as their powers would allow. The rest would brave the coming dawn to see the outcome of this battle.

A pit of dread formed in Matthew’s stomach. Were these the same two fish that were in his pocket? Did he get them wet? The two fish battled knocking over things and raising quite a racket.

“Hey! Keep it down, my mother is trying to sleep. She has to go to work in the morning.”

The two fish now easily larger than Matthew stopped fighting for a moment and began to swim toward him. Matthew immediately had that “being in trouble” feeling he was so good at having lately.

“You talking to us, boy? Are you a Fisherman? Because if you aren’t you might want to step aside and stay out of Sakana business.”

“I don’t care who you think you are. You’re in my room and don’t want you waking my mother.”

The larger of the two Sakana, slid up right in Matthew’s face and waved his silvery fins, “You don’t look like a Fisherman, so I’m left to assume you just don’t know any better. Lucky for you, the sun is coming up and I have places to be before the sun rises. Hope for your sake we never meet again. I won’t be so generous next time.”

“Tough talk for a translucent dream fish.” Matthew safe in his belief he was dreaming continued to goad the glowing Sakana. The smaller of the two fish slid back into the closet as tiny riverlets of silver fluid dripped away from it.

The Sakana laughed, a gurgling sound, like a man drowning at sea, “You think this is a dream. Here in our time, in our stream, dreams are reality, and reality is as a dream to us. You would do well to fear us. We are all around you and you have the rare misfortune to be able to see us. That means we can harm you. Like so.”

The dream fish snapped its jaws shut as Matthew put his arm up to block its assault. He felt something hot and burning on his upper forearm as it bit into his spirit form. The pain was indescribable.

But a strange thing happened, just as Matt was about to scream out the Sakana let go and smoke rose from its mouth. The creature began to scream an underwater bubbling coupled with its teeth falling from its head like raindrops.

“I’ll get you for this!” The Sakana increased its size again and shot out into the early dawn, swimming away with incredible speed into the low lying fog.

“Are you going to threaten me too, before flying away melodramatically?” Matt held his burning arm complete with a glowing bite mark close to his chest and looked into the closet where the other Sakana stayed during the confrontation.

A soft voice came out of the closet. “No.”

“No. That’s it?! Your friend bites me…”

“We weren’t friends. He was trying to eat me.” There was a momentary pause before continuing, “Granted, I was trying to eat him too, but I was too slow and he was too strong.”

“You look hurt. Come out and let me look at you.” Matthew lowered his voice trying to appear non-threatening.

“It’s a little late for that. I doubt I will make it to the sun’s rise.” The smaller Sakana floated out the closet and had shrunk to the size of a loaf of bread, still trailing the silver fluid.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Matthew lied. He wasn’t sure what the Sakana was supposed to look like, but this one was much smaller and had lost most of its glow during the confrontation with the larger and less friendly one.

The silver fluid slowly stopped and the Sakana was about the size of a cell phone. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Stop my loss of essence. In a duel between Sakana, the stronger one bleeds the weaker of its life essence. This continues until one is dead.”

“I didn’t do anything. I just wanted you to feel better so I told you that you didn’t look that bad. And then you didn’t. You’re even getting your glow back.”

The tiny kami, zipped up to Matthew’s injured arm and swam around it until the glowing from the bite dimmed becoming almost invisible. “I can’t remove the damage completely, he was too strong for that. But you will have use of your arm in a day or so.”

“What do you mean in a day or two? I have school in the morning.”

The Sakana swam up to eye level and in a lecturing tone of voice explained, “If that psychic injury had not be treated, in a week or two, the arm would have begun to die and experience necrosis, a sort of cellular death. No doctor could cure it, nor could any medicine halt it. That was a real injury, even if it was only to your psychic self. The Sakana are dangerous and that is why the Fisherman gather them, salt them, cure them and feed them to others of our kind.”

Suddenly feeling a bit more afraid, Matthew looks at the tiny fish and said, “Thank you for helping me out. I think I would have had a hard time explaining why my arm was rotting off to my Mom.”

“You saved my life. It was the least I could do. Technically until I save your life, I owe you mine. I will help you in any way I can.”

“You said the Sakana are dangerous. How many of you are there?”

“There are many kinds of fish kami, some are more dangerous than others. Our particular type are quite troublesome and are targeted by Fisherman. Look out the window. You see the dawn? Look in the farthest direction from it. Do you see a sliver band moving into the west across the sky? Those are Sakana kami. Tens of thousands of them inhabiting the very air. Collectively they are called the night breeds; they are powerful, capricious, and very dangerous.”

“That’s a lot of kami.”

“Yes, but Big City keeps most of them under control.”

“How?”

The Sakana yawned and swam around in a circle before disappearing. “It’s sunrise. I don’t do my best work after dawn. Look after that arm. You may want to keep your hand in your pocket until you can move it again.”

“How do I get in touch with you?”

“Not to worry, you’ll know me when you see me. Now wake up, your mother’s calling you.”

“Huh? Wake up? I am awake.”

“No. You just think you are. Listen, your mother’s calling you.”

The boy woke up startled as his mother opened his door and turned on his light. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Time for school.” She entered the room and bent down to give him a kiss.

“I’m off to work. Make sure you remember to take your lunch.”

“Okay, Mom. Have a good day at work.”

“Matthew, one more thing. Please clean up this room, its starting to smell a bit fishy. That’s can’t be good.”

“Sure thing, Mom. I’ll take care of it.” Matthew tried to wave goodbye with his right arm but realized he couldn’t raise it at all. He waved awkwardly with his left before lying back down on the bed.

On his pillow was a small pen with a stylized fish on the side of it. Shaking his head, he got up and using one hand tried to bring his room back into some semblance of order. After he finished, he got dressed slowly and clumsily since it took two hands to button a shirt, he had more than a little trouble with it.

Gathering his lunch, picking up his backpack, he clipped the strange pen with glowing lines into his shirt pocket and made his way to the bus for a new week of the dullest school on Earth.

An angry pair of Sakana eyes stared menacingly as Matthew boarded a city bus. The large kami swam away from the shadow of a nearby building before chasing after the vanishing night.

Small Fish, Big City (3)

Posted by Ebonstorm on November 4, 2013

Posted in: Big City, Fantasy, horror, Serial, Short Story. Tagged: Central City, kami, Konohama, Konohama Gang, laundromat, Matthew, spirits, superball, washer and dryer, Western City, young adult. Leave a comment

The moon hung low in the sky glimmering behind the skyscrapers of Big City.

It was dark by the time Matthew and his mother Clare finally made it home. The pizza was delicious. Matthew kept expecting his bacteria-vision to return and show the horror of the disease all over the pizza like it did in the bathroom. When nothing happened, the heavenly scent overcame his reservations and he dug in with gusto. Eating his share of the pizza, his mother seemed pleased to see his appetite returning in light of their move to Big City.

The drive home was quiet, neither of them felt any particular need to fill the silence. Honestly, there wasn’t much that needed saying. Matthew considered his evening, and not for the first time, questioned his sanity. Only the two fish in his pocket solidified the idea that something had happened, even if he wasn’t quite sure what that was. His hand pressed against his thigh, he could feel the outline of the fish there.

The drive home skirted the center of Big City and he could see its towering buildings from the road on the freeway. Each skyscraper radiating a subtle malevolence, as if he could feel them thinking their rigid and conforming thoughts. Lights flickered on and off and Matthew imagined each building’s lights taking on near-human faces formed of window squares and scowling at him, as he passed. Only after they passed them did their lights return to normal.

The drive took about twenty minutes and they arrived home in the Western Quarter of the city. Their home was a tenement complex with three buildings facing each other in a triangle with a centralized parking area, filled with small kiddie parks and pathways. Each building also had smaller parking regions on the back side. The buildings were twenty stories tall and had eight apartments on each floor. Painfully dull, but imminently affordable, this was their home for the foreseeable future.

Clare opened the inner building doors with her key. Each door was created from a strong aluminium filled with a bullet-proof plastic covered in scratches and the occasional burn mark. Despite the vandalism, the Plexiglas was still intact and kept the right people out of the building.

Clare moved with practiced alacrity, had her key out, opened and closed the door to the building before some shady characters could follow her in. She ushered Matthew ahead of her and he scooted as quickly as he could to keep out of her way. She stopped at the mailbox room before going upstairs. Matthew waited outside and saw some toughs follow a slow, older woman into the building. He wanted to say something but slid back into the door to the mail nook, hoping to remain out of sight.

“Hey there, Granny. Got something for me?” One of the three youths, probably around seventeen or eighteen stepped in front of the older woman as she tried to slip in unseen.

For their first three weeks in the building, Matt had managed to avoid the local ruffians by getting home early and staying home after dark. He had seen the local bullies when they were first moving in and only his father’s menacing presence kept them at bay. He was sure they would keep an eye out and notice, his father didn’t come around as much. Matthew wanted to forestall this particular confrontation with the local bullies as long as possible.

“Nothing. You have already taken my last dollar until I get my check at the end of the month.” The old woman had a defiant look in her eye, but it was pure bravado. There wasn’t a thing she could do to stand up against these three. And they knew it. They closed in on the old woman and surrounded her. Jackals would have been proud of their technique. They leered and smiled, their crooked teeth all the more menacing for their willingness to bare them.

The leader, the biggest of the three, wearing a red hoodie, reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. Something cheap, but sharp. He pressed the button and its blade flew forth with a menacing snap in the hallway. The old lady paled. “You know you could put all of this bad blood between us aside if you told your granddaughter to come and work for me. She’s really pretty.”

Backed up against the wall, Granny’s mouth took a tight line and she hefted her purse as if she would attack them with her last ounce of strength. “I would never tell her to work for you. Never! I’d rather die.”

Red Hoodie, turned his hood back and leaned in. He drew his switchblade close to the old woman and hissed. “That can be arranged. You might slip and fall down the stairs. We’ll have her, whether you want it or not. And if you won’t cooperate, we’ll just take what we want when you’re… gone.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Matthew shouted as loud as he could, “Leave her alone. Can’t you see she just wants to go home?”

The second largest of the toughs turned and his head was huge, blood-red eyes, big as saucers peered out from under his hoodie. He looked at Matthew and the menace in his stare was like a physical blow. “Hey small fry, wait your turn, we’ll get to you in a minute.”

“I said leave her alone. I’m not scared of you.” Matthew assumed a fighting stance with his arms half extended like his father taught him.

“Oh, Small Fry knows kung-fu. Look guys, he is taking a stance. Ooooh, I’m so scared.” The third bully had a huge gap between his front teeth big enough to drive a truck through. But his fists were the size of small engine blocks. Matthew was already regretting his decision.

“Run along, Granny, we’ll play again, soon.” Big Red shoved the old lady out of the way and all three began their approach toward Matthew. “Small Fry, do you know who I am?”

Matthew, to his credit was committed and snarled out with as much bravado as his one hundred pounds soaking wet would allow, “Three bullies picking on an old lady. Come and pick on someone who can fight back. If you’re not too scared.”

“We are the Konahama Gang and we run this project and every one around it. You’ll show us respect every time you see us or we’ll beat it out of you. In case you didn’t guess, I’m Konahama. Teach him some respect.” Konahama gestured with his chin. Gap-tooth and Big Eyes, jumped forward and with a series of clumsy attacks, showed they too, knew some kung-fu. Matthew responded reflexively and repelled their initial attack but they followed up quickly and the difference in their age, height and weight soon took its toll.

The smaller boy’s spirit was willing but his body was simply unable to handle the older and stronger boys blows. He managed to give as good as he got for the first fifteen seconds. Both bullies would sport a shiner as he managed to reach under their sloppy technique. Then he fell under the rain of heavy fists and kicks. It took all he could muster to keep from taking too many hits to the face. Once Matt went down Konahama planted his size thirteen boot into the smaller boy’s rib cage.

“We’ll do this again soon, Small Fry.” Konahama kicked once more before the mail room’s secured door began to open again. Then the three teens ran out the door laughing into the darkness.

Clare came out the room and her response was to be expected. She reached into her purse and gave chase to the three boys but they had already faded away. She picked up Matthew and he pushed her hands away. “I’m okay, Mom.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Just some local kids welcoming me to the neighborhood.” This isn’t over.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing worse than Dad ever did during training. I’ll be okay.” Clare noted he had taken very few blows to his face, a testament to the training his father insisted they both take as the family of a police officer. He always reminded them that criminals might decide to take their revenge on the officer’s families. Clare helped Matthew into the elevator and they made it to their apartment. A hot bath would take the sting out that beat down. School would numb the rest.

* * * *

Konahama, Big Eyes and Gap-tooth ran to the next tenement building across the way kicking out some headlights of cars in the parking lot. A tall, lean figure followed behind them bouncing a rubber ball. The ping of the ball could barely be heard over the sound of nearby traffic. The three bullies approached the back door to the building and found themselves in the small entryway between the street and the building’s interior lobby.

All of these buildings used this area as a security space requiring a key, a card or to be buzzed in by a tenant to enter. Unfortunately, the lock was able to be picked and the three of them were experienced in breaking and entering, one of their primary means of making a living. Big Eyes took out a small pack from his pocket and removed his lock-picking set.

The other two took watch, Konahama looked into the lobby while Gap-tooth looked out into the parking lot. He saw a shadow flitting between cars and the flicking parking lot lights. He wasn’t sure what it was but he didn’t want to say anything to piss Konahama off any more than he already was. Nothing Konohama hated more than an interrupted beat-down. He thought he would go outside and investigate it himself. As he opened the door, something hit him square in the forehead, stunning him and knocking him back into the small foyer. The small projectile trapped in the room began to bounce around faster and faster. The door closed behind Gap-tooth as he fell into the room.

The superball doubled its speed each time it struck anything. Its second bounce struck Gap-tooth square in the nose with a satisfying crunch before spinning off to bounce around in the tight quarters. Konahama, as surprised as Gap-tooth fell backward onto Big Eyes, heard the pinging of something in the room with them. But it was already faster than could be tracked with the naked eye.

It struck Konahama and Big Eyes repeatedly, each blow harder and faster than the last. Knocking them around the room, soon they were unable to do anything more than cower in the corners. After a few more minutes and repeated blows, all three were rendered blissfully unconscious. The ball continued its terrifying bouncing without cease.

A tall, lean and hooded figure opened the door, walked in and closed the door behind himself. He dodged the flashing ball with an acrobatic spin, stuck out his gloved hand and captured the ball mid-flight.

Slipping the ball back into his pocket, he looked around at his handiwork, seemingly satisfied. Whistling a jaunty tune he walked back into the parking lot, bouncing the ball, its distinctive ping echoing in the distance.