THE ODYSSEY

Part IV: Shipbuilding

By Ben Hobson

World War II

Despite the ugliness of earlier in the day, the night is beautiful. The winter air is still too cold, but the sky is clear. Bright stars shine in that night sky. Everything is quiet, save for the sounds of the Allies camp. The attack on Zemo’s castle earlier had gone better than expected. Allied wins were few and far between these days, but even with the casualties, morale was higher than it had been in months. Men were gathered around campfires exchanging stories and drinks, laughing and trying – just for a minute – to forget where they are.

Much the same can be said of Davis Cameron. He sits apart from the other people, sitting upon the rooftop of a building. The rough shingles bite into Davis’ butt as he sits, but in all honesty, the young man doesn’t mind.

I’ve been passed from one reality to another, he thinks to himself, swirling the cup of whiskey he holds. Been chased by super-powered crazy monsters, told I’m a mutant, and been tortured. And I killed a guy. So yeah. Here’s to shingle-butt being a problem. Throwing back the cup, Davis downs the drink in one try.

“Have you finally had enough to drink?” the voice of Irene Cameron asks from the nearby window. “Because we need to talk.”

Sighing, Davis looks at the face of the woman. Thin lines run from her eyes, a sign of the stress that she’s been under since she and her husband started running. Her white hair, normally held back in a ponytail, flows loose, hanging around her face. Pale eyes, cloudy as part of her own mutation, watch Davis.

“I am willing to talk about anything,” Davis says sadly, shifting his view to his cup. “Except what you want to talk about.”

“Well that’s not good enough.” Irene angrily comments. “Cameron is missing and I need to find him! He wasn’t at Zemo’s castle and there wasn’t anyone left there to ask about him. You were the ONLY OTHER PERSON there Davis, so answer me! Was Cameron there? Did you see him?”

Davis just sits there, a melancholy mood resting on his shoulders.

“PLEASE Davis.” Irene says, climbing out the window on the rooftop. She sits down near him. “Did you see him?”

Letting out a long sigh, Davis nods. “Yeah, I saw him.” He looks away from Irene. “Just not there.” Waiting patiently, Irene’s eyes get a big bigger. “Before we got dumped here, when we were in between May’s reality and this one, he grabbed me. He was saying that, ah, that he couldn’t turn back…he couldn’t go human anymore.” Glancing at Irene, Davis makes sure to look away quickly. “He said that I was Slipstream now. And he said to…he said to tell you…ah, God damn it.”

Pausing, Davis opens the hand not holding his cup, revealing a golden ring looped into a black string. “Here.” He says, passing it to Irene. “He wanted to give that you.”

As Irene takes the ring, the air immediately grows heavy between them. Biting her lip, Irene nods and sniffs, grasping at the ring tightly. The wind picks up suddenly, the cold breeze cutting through them while kicking up Irene’s hair at the same time. Snow flutters by them both and finally the wind dies. Once it does, Irene nods.

“Okay.” she mutters, a tremor in her voice. “Alright. We, uh, we need to g-get out of here.” As she speaks, Irene fishes out her own ring-necklace. Untying the knot she loops her husbands ring on next to hers. “This place is – is too dangerous for us.”

“I’m down with that.” Davis says somberly. “When do we leave?”

Irene stands and makes her way towards the window. “Whenever you say so.”

As she climbs back inside the attic of the building, Davis stands up. “Fuck.” he mutters, tossing his cup to the street below. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Alright guys,” Davis says to the group gathered around him. “We ready to roll?”

To Davis’ right is Irene, clad in her black bodysuit with her sword at her side. She nods solemnly.

“Let’s beat feet cats.” May Parker says cheerfully. Still covered in her five layers of clothes, May looks like a walking Salvation Army store. But she smiles genuinely as she looks from one member of their group to another. “This place is Splitsville.”

“I’m ready.” The newest traveler comments. Steve Rogers shifts the pack on his back slightly, rations of food and water stored inside, as he looks at Davis. “How, uh, how does this happen?”

Summoning his silver board, Davis shakes his head. The slipstream opens up behind him, leaning right into a wall. “You got me.” Then Davis hops onto his board, spins around to get a feel for the movement, and surfs into the portal. Gritting her teeth, Irene jumps in after him, following closely by a grinning May and the grim Rogers.

Despite being accustomed to traveling through the Betweenspace, even Irene wasn’t prepared for the trip. With Cameron, things were pretty much instantaneous – leave one reality, glimpse the Betweenspace, and then revert.

With Davis though, the process takes much more time. His silver board shines and gleams before them as he slashes over the waves of reality and zips across timelines. Behind him are his companions, dragged along in the wake of his movements, helpless except to watch him and try not to get sick.

Irene scowls. He has no idea what he’s doing.

Okay, thinks Davis, shifting his weight. What the hell am I supposed to do now? The young surfer looks around him, but there’s nothing in the Betweenspace but light, time, and the energy that makes up All Realities. Nothing in particular to head towards, no goal in sight – just everything.

Alright then. Fuck it. He thinks with a shrug. He pulls back on the board, flips overhead, and pushes forward, sending himself – and his companions – into a bright spot of light.

Slipstream’s exit is nice and smooth, his board coasting into the new reality with ease. Legacy, May, and Rogers tumble out behind him though, rolling onto the hard concrete. As they all stand up and gather themselves, grumbling and mumbling, Davis looks down at himself. “Hey, lookit that.” he says, smiling at the repaired jumpsuit. He glances back at the area where the portal was. “The between musta fixed this thing.” Smiling, Davis surveys the area. “So far so good.”

They’re in a city – much larger than the one they just left. What were undoubtedly tall buildings lay on their sides, steel girders bent and torn, glass windows shattered and broken, concrete bodies cracked and broken. Many still stand, but all are broken. The ground is torn up, huge islands of asphalt rising into the sky. Grass grows beneath them like gaping green wounds. Cars of all shapes and sizes litter the landscape, some of the broken, others on their sides, all of them immobile. Despite the destruction though, the sky is clear and filled with white clouds.

“This is a nice change.” he says, mainly to himself.

“Where are we?” Rogers says, shifting his pack again. “It’s…familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“WELL.” May says, pushing her helmet back. “If I were to guess by, oh, THAT building,” she says, pointing at one lying on the ground. “I’d say New York City.”

“And what makes you think that?” Davis asks, hopping off of his board as it disappears.

“It’s the Chrysler Building.” May says casually. “It’s a pretty distinct look cat.”

“New York City.” Rogers says with a half-smile. It only lasts for a second though – and then he’s back to the thin line. “But what happened here? Was there some kind of war?”

Legacy speaks up here. “Let’s find out.” she says, looking to Davis. “Or are we moving on?”

“We can find out.” Davis says casually, unsure of himself. “I mean, there’s no reason to rush, right? S’not like we got a goal in mind. I think that – “

“Shush.” Rogers says. He holds up a hand, silencing the group. “Does anyone else hear that?” They all pause, holding still as a photo while they listen.

“Music?” Davis asks, spinning around to examine the buildings. “But from where?”

“This way.” Legacy says, moving down the street. “It’s coming from over here.” The rest of them fall in line behind her and it’s not long before they can see their destination.

Rising out of the destruction is one building. All of it’s surrounding brothers and sisters are knocked over or cracked in half – the nearest building that’s still standing is miles away. But sure enough, the music comes from this one building alone.

“The Baxter Building.” Legacy says factually. “Home to the Fantastic Four in most realities.”

“Who’re they?” Rogers says, grabbing some binoculars out of one of his packs pockets.

“Heroes.” Legacy replies, resting a hand on her sword. “Most of the time. The line-up varies, but they’re most often heroes.”

“I LOVE the design.” May says happily as she stands on top of a taxi. “We gonna head there or what?”

Legacy looks to Davis. He’s surprised that she turns to him in all honesty, so he just shrugs. “Hey, why not? If they’re heroes and all, it should be good, right?”

“Right.” Legacy says grimly. “Just keep your guard up.” As they all set off, making their way through the landscape, Davis catches up to Irene.

“Keep our guard up?” he asks. “Why? You have a bad run with these guys before?”

“Once.” She replies as she puts her hair up. “Nearly killed Cameron and I. So. Keep your guard up.”

Allowing himself to fall back behind Irene, he looks up at the building. “Great.” Meanwhile, behind him, May keep pace with Rogers.

“Hey,” she says, bouncing along cheerfully. “So, you’re all against being called Captain America now right?”

“That’s right.” Rogers replies.

“So I can’t call you Cap?” she asks.

“No.”

“Well then what CAN I call you?” she asks.

Sighing, Rogers trudges on. “Just call me Rogers okay? Or Steve. But no Cap, no Captain America, you understand?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, that’s groovy Steve.” They walk along for about a minute before May speaks again. “Well, hey, when we stormed that castle, the Nazi’s kept shouting at you, right? Well, I just figured they were all like “Oh crap, it’s Captain America and he’s gonna beat us all down!” but if you aren’t Cap anymore, then what were they shouting at you?”

“You have the basic idea right. But they were referring to me as “geist”. Rogers replies, looking at May. “It means ghost in German.”

“Geist.” May says to herself, testing the word out. She stands there a second, working the word. “Geist. Hey. We got Legacy,” she says, pointing to Irene. “And Slipstream and Geist. I need a codename.” Noticing that the rest of the party is getting ahead of her, May quickly picks up speed. “Hey! Hey guys, think up a cool codename for me! Something like, neato and BA and something that TOTALLY fits me!”

“Chatterbox.” Rogers suggests.

“Uh, the – uh,” Davis works his brain. “The Hippie Wizard? The Wizippie? The Hipward? Heh, I kinda like Hipward.”

“The Slow Girl.” Legacy shouts back. “Keep up!”

“Those names are lame!” May cries. “C’mon, I need something better than that!”

The Baxter Building

By the time they reached the Baxter Building, May still didn’t have a codename. There were several dozen that were put on the No List, but nothing that fit her taste. So Legacy, Slipstream, Geist, and May slowly work their way into the building. Thankfully for them, the building’s once amazing detection and protective systems were no longer active. The lobby was empty of everything and anyone. Not even a reception desk was left. There was nothing but structurally needed pillars and a scuffed title floor.

Oh, and the elevator sitting open before them.

“So,” Davis is the first to ask. “We going up?”

“Does it still work though?” Rogers asks, peering inside. For all intents and purposes, the small box LOOKS fine. Bright lights are lit over head, the buttons are all there, and it looks spotless.

“Let’s find out!” May says, hopping inside. Everyone waits a second (to see if anything terrible happens to May) and when nothing does, they begin to file in. “Don’t worry.” she says as she presses the highest floor. “I’ve put a good luck charm on us. We’ll be fine.”

“Oh, thank God for that.” Davis says nervously. “I’m absolutely reassured now. Completely. Not an unhappy thought in my head.”

The ride to the top floor is filled with pointless chatter from May (that I’ll spare you from dear reader, for the sake of your own sanity, as well as mine), but they do finally arrive with much thanks and relief (mainly due to being able to get away from May for a second).

As they enter the hallway, the music is easily the first thing that catches all their attention. Painfully loud, it echoes through the hallways and rooms, shaking even the floor. Davis walks close to Legacy and cups his mouth to be heard.

“Heartbreak Hotel?”

Irene shrugs, just as confused as he is. The small group passes several rooms, each one different. A room that’s clearly a woman’s, although it looks untouched. A gigantic weight room filled with ginormous machines. A room that’s filled with strewn clothes, rotten food containers, and is just in general a mess – a teenagers room. A lab of some sort. Finally, at the end of the hallway, is a large, semi-circular room. The end opposite the hallway is all glass and looks out over a spectacular view of New York. A large flat screen is built into the wall, surrounded by two bookshelves that are covered in computer equipment. There’s a couch, a table, a lounge chair, and then, against the other wall, a large scale stereo system. In the center of the room is perhaps the most bizarre thing that Irene, Davis, Steve, or May has seen in a long time.

Dancing – and it must be dancing, because those movements can’t be called anything else – in the middle of the room is a man covered in armor. It’s impossible to tell the man’s exact shape, but the armor is slim and well built. Mostly silver-grey, the suit has several areas that are colored blue. Not a piece of skin is showing, save for the man inside the armor’s eyes – a deep brown.

As the man’s singing continues, he spins around, just as he does a hip thrust, and sees his audience. He immediately freezes. Then May jumps out of the group and proceeds to pick up where he left off, dancing badly as well. The armored man quickly snaps to and one arm mecha-stretches out to the stereo, stopping the music. With a clanking-noise, the arm retracts.

“Oh, C’MON!” May says, glaring at him. “We were just getting to the chorus!”

“I’m sorry!” The man says, looking at May while walking towards the rest of the group. “I-I don’t get company often. I’m Doom.” he says, offering his hand to Davis. “You all are quite real, yes?”

Next issue: In which the cast enjoys their first real moment of downtime. In which Rogers confronts Doom. In which Willy Wonka is mentioned. In which we accept the Excelsior.