“I suppose you do. Well, turn on some kind of light so I can find the damn thing.”
The darkness shrank, contracting until it became an inky bloat that coalesced into a tall, well-built man in a tight-fitting suit, black cape, and domino mask.
“Here it is,” Battle said, holding out a sheaf of papers to the vigilante.
Black Shadow took the papers from Battle, unfolded them, and quickly read them.
“Satisfactory?” Battle asked.
Shadow nodded.
“Signed by George Bush and everything,” Battle said with something of a smirk. He turned and looked at the others. “I suppose that everyone has heard about the events of last night, the attack on the command post at Ebbets Field, the attempted assassination of Senator Hartmann, the destruction of the Brooklyn Bridge?”
Ray, like the others, nodded. It had been an eventful evening.
“The peace initiative has failed,” Battle said. If it was possible to be grim and happy at the same time, Battle managed. “The mutant-coddlers have left the field. Its up to us to clean out that nest of vipers on Ellis Island.” Battle now unquestioningly looked very, very happy. “It’s time to go kick mutant ass.”
Ray took a deep breath to calm his racing nerves. He was ready. And so, as best they could be, were the others.
It was time to party.
Von Herzenhagen was pontificating. “This creature, this Bloat, is twisting the fabric of reality. No one knows the limits of this power. The danger he poses is immeasurable, unthinkable. If he can transform the Rox, what happens when he turns his attention to Manhattan… or even the world?”
There was a huge helicopter in center field. The soldiers were loading it with corpses as the briefing began. Last night’s assault had left twenty-six dead. The body bags were laid out in orderly rows across the outfield grass.
Zappa stood near the center of the miniature Rox. The castle was as tall as he was. “We’ve seen Bloat’s reply to our peace offer.” The general used his map pointer to gesture at the bodies in the outfield. “I have twenty-six families to phone. Twenty-six grieving mothers to talk to. I’d choose combat any day.”
Tom looked at the body bags. Maybe he should offer to swap assignments. Zappa hadn’t seen the hellhounds. Tom would take the grieving mothers every time. But he said nothing.
“We’re going to soften them up first,” Vidkunssen said. “Air strikes, missiles, artillery. It won’t be as surgical as we’d hoped, so long as this fog lasts. Our optical guidance systems are useless in that soup, and it even seems to be fucking up our radar. But we can still get their attention.”
“Then we hand off to you,” Zappa said.
“About time,” Cyclone said.
“Yes!” yelled the Reflector, punching the air.
“No one expects you to conquer the entire Rox,” Zappa said. “All you have to do is break through the Wall, brush aside any defenders that may confront you, and proceed to the castle to deal with Bloat. We’ll do the rest.”
“Terminate his rule,” said Phillip Baron von Herzenhagen. He took his pipe out of his mouth. “With extreme prejudice.”
There was a long silence.
“I’M NOT A KILLER.” Tom’s words echoed off the grandstands.
Zappa nodded as if he understood. “No,” he said gently. “But last night you proved you were a soldier.” Tom fell quiet, weighing Zappa’s words. Maybe he was right. Somehow the thought made him feel a little better. If this was war…if he was a soldier.
“What about the jumpers?” Corporal Danny asked.
Von Herzenhagen fielded that one. “Twenty-two jumpers surrendered last night at the Jersey Gate. According to our best intelligence, that should leave no more than a hundred on the island, possibly as few as eighty or ninety. I don’t need to tell you how dangerous their power makes them. However..” He paused, flashed them a broad, chubby smile, and gestured happily with his pipe. “The jumpers can only switch bodies with those they can see. The Turtle in his shell and Detroit Steel in his armor ought to be proof against their power.
“Intelligence tells us that one jumper died when he tried to take the Oddity, and become trapped inside that creature’s multiple mind. Another girl jumped a polar bear. The bear turned into a bar of soap and the jumper died. That should give them second thoughts about jumping Elephant Girl, wouldn’t you say? And if one of them should attempt to jump Legion…”
I’ve still got six bodies to spare,” said the punk Danny in red leathers.
Tom sat up. “WHAT IF THEY GET ALL SIX OF HER?”
“There’s no risk of that,” General Zappa said.
“I’ve been assigned here to headquarters,” the pregnant Danny explained.
“And I’m being flown out to the New Jersey,” the yuppie version added. She was dressed in a jumpsuit and bulletproof vest today, but she still wore her Rolex.
That wasn’t enough for Tom. “SO SHE ONLY LOSES THREE OR FOUR BODIES. WHAT EFFECT WILL THAT HAVE?”
“I’ll risk it,” Danny said. The one with the baseball cap and the ponytail.
“DANNY, LISTEN TO ME,” Tom said urgently. “THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF YOU GET JUMPED. YOU’VE ONLY GOT ONE MIND. YOU COULD WIND UP WITH SOME MANIAC IN YOUR HEAD FOREVER. YOU COULD WIND UP INSANE. EVER HEAR OF BRAIN TRUST?”
Danny looked annoyed. All six of her. They frowned in an eerie unison. “I didn’t ask for a history lesson.”
Tom appealed to von Herzenhagen and Zappa. “THIS IS NUTS. SHE’S A KID. YOU THINK SIX GIRLS WITH GUNS ARE GOING TO MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE? SHE’LL GET IN THE WAY, WE’LL HAVE TO PROTECT HER”
“You asshole!” three of the Dannys said in perfect chorus.
“Come on out of that iron cat-box and I’ll show you what six girls with guns can do,” Corporal Danny added in counterpoint.
Everybody started talking at once. Von Herzenhagen winced and raised his hand. “Please,” he said. “These factors have all been considered. Agreed, Legion adds little to the team’s offensive capability. Her primary function is communications.”
“I’LL GET YOU A GOOD DEAL ON SOME RADIOS,” Tom argued.
"Radio transmissions can be intercepted. Legion is the perfect communicator. Every one of her is instantaneously aware of what all the others are seeing, hearing, and experiencing.”
“Bloat’s a telepath,” Mistral pointed out. “He’ll know —”
“Nothing,” said von Herzenhagen. “Legion has frustrated our best government peeps. This isn’t ordinary telepathy. Legion cannot be jammed, cannot be scrambled, cannot be intercepted”
“SHE CAN BE KILLED,” Tom insisted.
Von Herzenhagen’s plump round face went cold. “The decision had been made,” he said flatly. He turned to Zappa. “General.”
Zappa lifted his pointer. “We’ll hit them simultaneously at three gates.” He pointed. “Here, here, and there. One Legion with each squad…”
Out in center field, the last of the body bags was being loaded into the waiting chopper. Tom watched them sling it aboard, then looked back at Danny, surrounded by her sisters.
Ray didn’t care for the smell of oil and machinery compounded by garbage and must that permeated the subway tunnel. Puckett’s presence wasn’t helping. Danny hung back once the group was well into the tunnel and said to Ray, “What’s with that guy dressed in black? He smells funny and he never says anything.”
“He’s dead,” Ray said. He felt it best not to elaborate.
Danny looked at him as if she were trying to decide if he was making fun of her, then shook her head and moved up next to Cameo.
They marched through darkness lit only by their flashlights, hiking down a curved section of tunnel that opened up onto an area illuminated by portable spotlights. A dozen soldiers moved in and out of the light beams like gigantic khaki-colored moths.