THE FAMILY THAT PREYS

Part III: The Spark

By Stuart Fairchild

717 BC

It was a great civilization, one which government and philosophy grew like no other before it. Its territory expanded by the will of one man, its first king, Romulus. His history became myth; born of a rejected king only to be outcaste by his uncle due to greed for the throne, surviving the wilderness from the milk of a wolf. He returned with a gleam in his eyes as his purpose became that of the empire and its people.

His victories were with no equal, expanding the empire at an alarming rate. His military might became an art of war; while in his glory, his greed rose much like the uncle which shunned him. Many people feared him while few would defy such a man, and as the crowds chanted his name in glory, it was an empty rant by many who prayed in secrecy for it to end.

“I beg of you, for the people of Rome, the king must die,” said a man, tattered in his clothing as his humility showed no bounds before the feet of a tall man clothed in a unique design compared to the garbs he was accustomed too.

He wore a golden head piece which accentuated the very foreign patterns on his clothing. A particular piece sparkled in the eye of the man, an emblem of the sun broached on his chest, very distinct in nature; as if he were kin to the object.

“I do not claim the sovereign laws of your empire!” he exclaimed. “You beg at my feet for what purpose? Why should someone such as I care what happens to your kingdom?”

“He has lost touch with the thing that brought him to power. He does not care for the people but only that of the kingdom and his army. Someone has to stop him,” the man whimpered.

“And you think that someone is us?”

“I beg of you. His army is too mighty for a revolt. We fear thinking such a thing,” the man cried out, lowering his head even lower in his plea.

“Then the people have no spine to wish for an empire.”

The man remained silent. He had traveled so far and with such a risk toward the east that he did not expect to face such confrontation. He feared going back in failure. A tear fell from the man, his voice cracking in despair, “My son is missing.”

“We will answer your plea for help,” another voice echoed. It was softer, kinder in nature to the beggar, as if sympathy and understanding fueled the voice. Standing before the two, a golden hair stranger appeared with clothing as blue as the sea itself only to have random fire red highlights throughout his garb. He too had a foreign look, the symbol on his chest unknown to the man.

“Ikaris, it is not our way to tip the scales of man.”

“And if that man is a spawn of a Deviant?” Ikaris replied quickly, a serious look appearing from his brow.

“What?”

“You have been away for too long, Ajak. Zuras himself has declared that the rising empire in the west is led by a Deviant. It has been told by the Prime Eternal; therefore it is law.”

“It is just one Deviant. I alone can squash such an uprising,” Ajak suggested.

Ikaris nodded, his thoughts deeply fixed on the next action. “That I know, but we can not do it in front of his supporters. The reign of the Deviant must not be known to the history of man. We need to do it in secrecy.”

“Then when do you suggest we attack?”

Still kneeling, the tattered man spoke up as he looked intently at the two men. “On the day of the Sun, the third day before the Nones of July, there will be a sacrifice in which the king will partake. It is there you will find him for sure.”

“Then we have our time, Ajak.”

Ajak smiled, clenching his fist as his blood screamed for action. “May this Deviant spawn know the power of the Eternals.”

It seemed like an eternity to the man when the mighty Ajak spoke his words, many days and nights passing when finally the roar of the crowd signaled the day had arrived. It was the day he had prayed for in silence, hoping his actions were just. Lost in a sea of citizens, he fought his way to an opening amongst the people, struggling to get to a point were he thought was his best vantage point.

He stood in the crowd, the roar of the event deafening even his thoughts. He looked with purpose, hoping he would see the so-called Eternals strike against their king even as the sun beat down on the people of the empire. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Romulus pass him on the way to the center of the gathering, his head hanging in shame at the mere appearance of the empires first king.

He wanted to scream, disgust the only thing he could describe as he participated in the ritual. With Romulus drawing his sword, the crowd roared louder then he had remembered, as if they had just won a war. He refused to raise his eyes in acknowledgement but the sudden shift of fervor turned to that of worry as in the distance, a strange darkness approached. He finally looked, as he felt a simple drop of rain suddenly turn into an immense storm, one which he could barely see the man in front of him. He wondered if this was the sign the Eternals promised, as he stood still hoping, looking at the spot where he remembered Romulus stood last as many citizens raced in confusion.

Romulus still stood firmly as the downpour and darkness seemingly engulfed the area around him. He knew his supporters that gathered around him had left his side, his mind cursing their fates when opportunity would arise next. Two figures appeared in the distance, still cloaked by the pouring rain as they approached. He stood tall as he had always done, his eyes straining behind his metal mask, wondering who dared contest the ceremony. As the figures approached, his eyes widened as a beam of light quickly approached his position, knocking him on his back.

“Who dares strike at the empire of Rome?” Romulus shouted, his mouth tasting the blood spilled by the unknown attack.

“We dare,” Ajak shouted, both Eternals appearing clearly from the depths of the rain.

“So the gods have finally shown themselves to oppose me?” Romulus laughed.

“We are no gods, Romulus. Much like you, we are evolutionary offshoots of humanity blessed by the Celestials,” Ikaris called out, circling the fallen king much like his partner Ajak did in the other direction.

The fallen king rose to his feet, his fist clearing the blood on his lip. “I am Romulus, king of the Roman Empire. Son to a God. Rightful ruler of the kingdom. My tale rests at the foot of Palatine Hill.”

“You are Deviant scum,” Ajak roared as his eyes reddened, unleashing a powerful blast toward Romulus, leveling the massive king to the ground yet again.

“Your father was no god, Romulus,” Ikaris said sympathetically. “You have used the abilities granted by the Celestials to expand your empire. We can not watch anymore as the rule of the Deviants expands in territory. It stops now.”

“My reign will live forever,” Romulus barked, his right arm bracing his weight as the other recovered from the blow.

“Unlikely,” Ajak chuckled, his eyes glowing crimson red yet again.

“Hold your attack, Ajak” Ikaris commanded with a raised hand.

“Ikaris,” Ajak hesitated.

“His pride clouds his judgment even at the foot of death. Let him be humbled in shackles so he shall forever know that he was bested by the Eternals.”

“But Ikaris,” Ajak announced again, questioning the motives of his fellow Eternal.

“Hold your comments, Ajak. Zuras sent me to dethrone the Deviant from humanity. We have done that and therefore our mission complete. The only crime he has committed was being born that of our enemy.

Department H

“I really tire of these tests,” Snowbird called out, a look of building agitation easily seen from across the room. Numerous wires ran from her body, a tangled mixture of diagnostic test as her body remained still during the procedure.

“We are almost done, Narya,” Shaman answered.

“I’m getting nothing, Michael,” Sasquatch said.

“That is what worries me, Walter,” Shaman replied, his hands running across his chin while in thought. “Something happened to Narya which we can not explain when she used her post-cognitive abilities. Even if we were not Sasquatch and Shaman, my training as a medical doctor makes me worry about that event alone.”

“I know what you mean, Michael. When I first met Snowbird, she was the demi-goddess child of the Northern Gods. A lovely looking female who shape shifted into whatever form she wanted too. If anyone took that as normal, what happened afterwards just gets too complicated. She died, I acquired her physical body upon my resurrection and yet she returns as a project of A.I.M; a mystical being evaluated by science geeks. It all gets too confusing when I think about it. To tell you the truth, I don’t even know if I’m running the correct test for her.”

Shaman placed his hand on Sasquatch’s shoulder, reassuring the effort placed in the test. “You are doing your best, Walter. That is all I can ask for.”

“I have had enough,” an annoyed Snowbird barked, ripping of her leads and other equipment placed on her body.

Reacting quickly, Sasquatch reached toward his microphone, trying to avoid a situation. “Narya…relax.”

“This is no time to relax, Walter. We should be out there finding who invaded our headquarters.”

Shaman quickly left Sasquatch’s side and entered the exam room, setting his body between Snowbird and the exit, trying to persuade the shape shifter from doing anything rash. “Is that your true reasoning or are you just looking for a way to find the person that harmed you?”

Shaman’s comment struck something within Snowbird as she firmly placed a look upon Shaman he had never seen before. “Do not question my motives, Michael,” she said coldly.

“Narya,” he uttered, grabbing her arm as she passed him.

Snowbird’s eyes widened. The anger in her eyes building by the moment. She did not say it but she did not have too, the look in her eyes stated to move or be moved.

“I must leave.”

Shaman hesitantly released his grasp, allowing her to pass. “I am not questioning your motives. I just think that you would be better served if Alpha Flight helped.”

“Ever the optimist, Michael,” she said, stopping in the hallway with her back facing the man that raised her a few feet away. With her head down and voice a little louder then a whisper, she thought of this as the first moment she had ever felt so torn in her actions “I have played the role for too long. I do not have time to wait while Department H scrambles aimlessly. It is a time for action; whether it is with Alpha Flight or alone. I will search for my own answers. Do not summon me again unless you find something.”

Hurt by her own words, Snowbird’s body vanished before their eyes, quickly morphing into a swarm of mosquitoes headed into the air duct and finally disappearing before a rejected figure.

“Uh…should we tell Gentry or Jim?” Sasquatch said, walking into the room.

“Do you really think it would matter, Walter?”

“Not when she is in the emotional state she is in.”

“That is exactly what is bothering me.”

Saguenay, Quebec

Gardner Monroe stood in front of his apartment door, cursing the weather for being so miserable. He had hurried into his complex, clothes completely drenched with rain soaked black hair matted heavily over his elderly whites which traced around his ears. Both his arms were occupied as he managed to hold three grocery bags in two arms while still trying to locate the key in his pocket.

A couple he barely knew, living a few doors down, passed him in the corridor, looking carefully as he struggled to open his door. He could sense the feel of their eyes search him yet he never raised his head in acknowledgement. It was something he had always done since moving into the complex, keeping to himself. He had become the neighbor people barely see yet have off the wall stories of sinister actions in a far away town. If it kept people from getting too close, then he would gladly be the boogie man that they imagined.

Finally managing to open the door, he walked into complete darkness with its silence adding to its lonely ambience. Gardner did not need any lighting; he did not own much to decorate his room with that could possibly topple his way into his place. Walking into the kitchen, he flicked on the lights with his shoulder, carefully setting the grocery bags down on the counter. He breathed a sigh of relief as he opened his refrigerator door, hoping something would catch his eye to consume.

“You have quite an interesting home, Mr. Monroe,” a voice called out from the shadows.

“What the…?” Gardner barked, dropping his beer while grabbing one of his kitchen knives near him. His heart pounded heavily as he peered into the darkness of his room. “Who the hell are you?”

A figure slowly revealed itself in the lit kitchen, revealing his features in a neatly pressed black suit which matched his hair and eyes. It was the deep seriousness in his eyes that bothered Gardner the most, they were fixed sternly upon Gardner’s, paying no attention to his hand which clutched the blade mere feet away from his position. “I mean you no harm, Gardner Monroe. You have no reason to get excited.”

“Like hell I don’t,” Gardner remarked, slowly circling the kitchen while he inspected the intruder. “I will ask you again. Who the hell are you?”

“Let’s just say I work for your former employer.”

Gardner’s brow wrinkled at the vague answer. He had never seen this man in his life yet he stood in front of him with not a worry in the world, like he had known him for years. He looked again at the man; his cool demeanor bothered Gardner; for he was the one grasping the knife. It was then the possibility of who the guy was came screaming in his head.

“You work for Department H?” Gardner roared, his face appearing more annoyed then before.

“Not so loud Mr. Monroe,” The man smiled, leading away into the small living room as he turned on the lighting in the adjacent room. “We are trying to keep that a secret as of right now.”

“What the hell do you mean secret. You entered my house. I have stayed far away from Department H as possible.”

“I know Mr. Monroe, or can I call you Flashback?”

The mere mention of his government identity sent chills down Gardner’s spine. It had been years since he went by that name and the fact that a complete stranger used it didn’t sit too well with him.

Gardner relaxed the knife in his hand, setting it beside his hip, gripping it loosely as he followed the man. He turned, slowly taking a seat in his sofa as if he had bought it. The man still didn’t seem bothered, resting both his arms upon the chair rest, revealing a serpent –like ring that called for attention.

“You have stayed away from everything that comes close to you, Flashback. You don’t call any family, you have no relationship to speak of and you pay for everything in cash. You have no cable and the only source of outside news you are privy to is the paper you purchase two blocks down from here on your way to work.”

Gardner tilted his head in shock. “How the hell do you know all that?”

The man simply smiled, “It’s my job to know, Flashback.”

“You going to call Department H to bring me on charges then?” Gardner asked, figuring all the crappy things he did against the Department finally caught up to him.

“Not quite. The less Department H knows of this conversation the better. It is for their own good.”

“So Department H doesn’t know you are here,” Gardner uttered, memories of a similar situation in which he was manipulated by an android named Delphine Courtney to kill James Hudson earlier in his life surfacing.

The man reached in his jacket pocket, pulling a card out which he placed on the nightstand close to him. “I come here to extend an offer to you, Flashback. It is a serious offer in which I hope you accept. It concerns saving the life of James MacDonald Hudson and everyone within Canada.”

Gardner carefully approached the card, his eyes firmly fixed on the man. Picking it up, he noticed longitude and latitudes with a time and date written on the card. It wasn’t a formal invite but it served its purpose. The fact that he mentioned Hudson intrigued his conscious.

“And if I don’t.”

“Then the world as we know it is doomed.”

“Why me?” Gardner asked, questioning the last time he remembered using one of his temporal copies.

“Ever since your disappearance from a government prison you have kept a pretty nomadic lifestyle. You have wandered from city to city every few months while keeping under the table jobs. You have no established credit, no social life and are not in any relationship.”

“You don’t have to paint it so bleak, fella.”

The man’s face turned more serious, finally standing as he walked toward the door.

“You went off the reservation and remained a ghost to the program. I am forming a team that needs ghost like you because a lot more of them I expect to surface in the coming weeks.”

“Will this card explode in thirty seconds?”

“I could have made it do that but I thought that would have been too much. A fitting analogy though, Flashback. As long as you are at that location at that time then I did not waste my time coming to you.”

“Do I really have a choice in the matter?” Gardner said, hedging on what decision to make.

“A man from James Hudson’s past has already been assassinated. He was sliced at the throat with his intestines hanging out. It was not of our doing. I’m offering you a chance of survival here, Flashback. Not just yours, but maybe everyone in Canada and quite possibly the world. Whether you consider that important enough is up to you.”