Project: Pegasus

The lab had been sealed for as long as anyone could remember. After the disaster with the Nth Projector, it was decided that it was a total loss. The doors had been sealed shut and no one had gone in since.

Inside the dark and musty room, a monitor blinked to life. Its case was cracked and dust was caked on the glass.

If anyone had been watching the monitor they would have noticed the digital clock on the monitor began to run forward, counting up from zero…

But no one was around and so the countdown continued unnoticed.

THE RETURN OF THE NTH MAN

Part I

By Bruce Cook

“Mommy, it hurts!”

“No!” screamed Arcanna Jones as she sat bolt upright in her bed.

This was the third night in a row that she’d had this dream. She recognized the voice of her youngest son, Benjamin. Benjamin had given his new life to save their home from the threat of the Nth Man. By giving up his birthright and taking the Nth Man’s place, Benjamin had save the Earth.

In the process he had been lost to Arcanna forever. Or so she thought.

Arcanna felt a breeze and Stanley Stewart was suddenly standing by her side.

“Are you okay? I heard you scream?”

Arcanna smiled insincerely at Stanley aka The Whizzer. His concern for her was sweet. They had grown extremely close during their exile. They were the only two members of the Squadron who left behind a family. The sense of loss they both felt created a bond between them that the other members of the Squad would never understand.

“I’m…I’m fine.”

That’s when she noticed Stanley blushing. She glanced down. The sheet had fallen away when she sat up. As was her practice, she wore nothing underneath. Even on this strange planet, it made her feel closer to the source of her powers to sleep naked.

“Ummm…” said the Whizzer, staring in spite of himself.

Arcanna pulled the sheet up, covering herself.

“Thank you, Stanley. I just had a nightmare.”

“Benjamin again?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Arcanna.

Then she began to sob.

The Whizzer stood beside her bed for several long seconds, then sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed.

Arcanna clutched the sheet with one arm and crumbled against the Whizzer’s chest. Her tears darkened the gray New York Yankees t-shirt he wore.

“We’re going home, Arcanna. I promise.”

Arcanna continued to sob.

New York City

Harold Danforth walked through Times Square with a smile on his face. It was good to smell fresh air. It was good to be away from Project: Pegasus for a few days. Ever since he and the other members of the Squadron Supreme had been trapped on this Earth, Harold had taken every opportunity to visit New York City. Its towering building and constant bustle almost let him forget about Inertia. Almost.

He crossed against a light and was assaulted by an army of car horns. Harold gave them the traditional NYC finger gesture and bolted for a nearby designer coffee shop. Once inside he ordered a large cup of coffee from the cute girl behind the counter. She smiled at him, but Harold couldn’t bring himself to smile back. He thought about Inertia as he walked back out into the NYC noise.

She had given her life in an effort to stop the Nth Man. It hadn’t worked. And now not a day went by that he didn’t miss her terribly. He could distract himself with coffee and traffic, but when he was alone he thought about her. He remembered the good times they had together, the plans they made. Then he remembered her being turned into a bloody red vapor as the Nth Man turned her power back on her.

It was almost more than he could stand.

He threw his empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can and turned down an alley. The alley was a shortcut to his favorite bookstore. He had recently discovered a great series about a Boston PI and he was anxious to pick up a couple more books before heading back to Project: Pegasus.

He sensed the presence in the alley before he saw it. The tanglewire began to play along the ends of his fingertips in anticipation of trouble.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” he said turning to face the person casting the shadow down the wall beside him. Then he was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. “You? B…b…but…you’re dead!”

At the end of the alley stood the Blue Eagle, wings and all. In his hand was a mace.

“I saw you die!” Harold said.

“And what about me?” asked a voice from the other end of the alley. Harold wheeled again, and saw the Black Archer advancing down the alley, bow drawn.

“What the hell?” said Harold, also known as Haywire, and fired tanglewire in both directions. He watched helplessly as the wire slammed into an unseen wall and fell helplessly to the ground.

“Now is that any way to greet your old teammates Haywire?” This voice came from above. Haywire followed it to the top of the fire escape running down the side of the building. A figure crouched in the shadows, a dark cape billowing around it.

“It can’t be!” screamed Haywire. “You’re dead too!” Then the ground beneath Haywire exploded, sending him crashing into a wall. He hit hard and before he could recover he saw a fourth figure appear from nowhere. Though still dazed he recognized the figure from an old photograph he had seen in Squadron City.

“I thought you were just a myth,” he said as the green man stepped out of the shadows and punched him squarely in the jaw. As his consciousness faded away, Haywire thought he saw someone else standing on roof holding a bow.

“Pick him up and let’s get out of here,” said the man on the fire escape. “That explosion is bound to attract some attention, even here.”

The green man picked up Haywire and heaved him over his shoulders. Then, one by one, the mysterious attackers disappeared into the shadows.

Project: Pegasus

“Full house. 8’s over ladies.”

Joseph Ledger aka Dr. Spectrum laid his cards on the table.

“Oh come on!”

The Blue Shield threw his cards on the table. They revealed a whole lot of nothing.

“You are either the best poker player on two planets, or the luckiest,” Blue Shield said.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.”

“Did Doc Spectrum win again?”

Ledger looked at Shape. The malleable man had a card held between each of his fingers. Of course, he’d stretched out his fingers so that he held the cards at their full width between each finger.

“That depends on what you’ve got Shape.”

Shape scratched his bald hand with his other hand. He bit his tongue as he studied the cards.

“Doc Spectrum has more jewels than Shape.”

“Diamonds, Shape. They’re called diamonds.”

“Sorry Doc.”

“It’s okay, buddy.”

Since they had been trapped on this other Earth, Dr. Spectrum had taken Shape under his wing. He loved Shape’s childlike innocence. He would make sure that what happened to Nuke never happened to Shape.

“You want to see my cards Doc?”

“Sure.”

Shape stretched his arm out and laid the cards on the table. The Blue Shield howled with laughter. Shape had four Aces and a King between his fingers. Dr. Spectrum stared in disbelief at his friend’s hand.

“Did Shape win?”

Spectrum laughed.

“You sure did buddy. You sure did.”

“Shape gets peanuts?”

“Every last one, buddy.”

Shape begins to clap excitedly with his feet as he reached for the peanuts they had been playing with. He formed his hand into a shovel and scooped up the peanuts. Then he stretched out his jaw and began to pour them into his mouth, chewing loudly.

“Chew slowly,” said Dr. Spectrum, smiling.

The intercom on the wall beeped.

“Blue Shield, this is Security 1. Are you available?”

Blue Shield stood up.

“Sure. What’s the problem?”

“We’re getting an alarm from Lab 43-J.”

“Isn’t that one empty?”

“Supposed to be.”

“I’m on it.”

“Roger that.”

“Thanks for the game guys. Duty calls.”

“You need some help?” asked Spectrum.

Blue Shield shook his head.

“It’s an abandoned lab. Probably just some old equipment malfunctioning. You make sure he doesn’t choke.”

Shape continued to chomp away on his winnings.

“I’ll get you next time,” said the Blue Shield as he headed out the door.

Dr. Spectrum watched him leave. Then he turned to Shape.

“You want to play more cards?”

“GO FISH!” shouted Shape, spraying Dr. Spectrum with peanut spittle.

“You’re on,” said Spectrum. He began to wipe off the peanut debris as his power prism picked up and shuffled the cards.

Elsewhere at Project: Pegasus

Hyperion watched as Power Princess sparred with Skylark.

Skylark launched a snap kick that Power Princess easily deflected.

He had been surprised when Skylark approached Power Princess several months ago about martial arts lessons. He had been even more surprised at how quick a study Skylark had been. She’d had some rudimentary training after joining the Squadron and, then later, under the tutelage of Blue Eagle, but she seemed more focused than he’d seen her in a long time.

Skylark followed the snap kick with a roundhouse kick that Power Princess was barely able to deflect.

Skylark had been b’modded by the Golden Archer in a desperate attempt to hold on to her love. It had backfired. It had ultimately cost the Golden Archer his life.

Hyperion watched as Power Princess braced for the step behind roundhouse kick that was next in the sequence she had taught Skylark. It never came.

Instead, Skylark dropped to the ground and executed a textbook leg sweep that dropped Power Princess to the ground. Before Power Princess could react, Skylark was on her with a punch that stopped inches from Power Princess’ face.

“KEE-YAH!”

Hyperion applauded in the corner.

Skylark’s fist changed to an open hand. She extended it to Power Princess and helped her to her feet.

“That’s not what I taught you.”

“Sure it is,” said Skylark, smiling. “You taught me to be unpredictable. The combinations are fine for practice, but in a real fight you have to flexible.”

“Yes you do,” said Power Princess.

Hyperion threw them both towels.

“Can I buy you ladies dinner in the commissary? I believe it’s spaghetti night.”

“You’re on,” said Power Princess.

Skylark wiped her face with the towel.

“I’ll pass. I want to work on the kata some more.”

“Are you sure?” asked Hyperion.

“Another time.”

“You did well tonight, Linda.”

“Thanks.”

She watched as Hyperion and Power Princess left the gym hold hands.

She thought about the Golden Archer and the Blue Eagle. They were both gone and she was alone.

Her next roundhouse kick nearly decapitated the practice dummy.

Lab 43-J

The Blue Shield stepped out of the elevator and headed toward the long abandoned lab.

“Nobody has been in there since they destroyed the Nth Projector,” thought the Shield. “Probably a false alarm. I bet the battery backup is dead.”

He reached the door and pressed his eye to the retinal scanner attached to the door frame. He waited until he heard the familiar beep of recognition followed by the nearly inaudible hiss of the lock releasing. He turned the handle and stepped into the lab. The lights turned on automatically.

The room was filled with debris. The remnants of the ill-fated Nth Projector lay piled up in one corner. The rest of the room was strewn with errant pieces of steel, masonry and electronics. Nothing he hadn’t seen before.

“I guess that’s what happens when you let the Thing, Giant-Man, Thundra and the Aquarian cut loose,” he said to no one in particular.

He touched the tiny com device in his ear. “All clear in here.”

He waited for a response from the control room. All he got was static.

“Repeat, all clear.”

Still nothing.

The Blue Shield scanned the lab again. If there was one thing he’d learned as head of security at Project: Pegasus, it was that things weren’t always as they appeared.

An overhead light flickered and the Shield thought he saw something move in the corner. He advanced cautiously.

“Probably just a shadow,” he thought.

His com continued to crackle with static, only now he picked up a couple of words from the security office.

“…out…surge…ground…now…”

“What?” he asked, but the device went silent.

He saw the movement again. It was coming from the remains of the Nth Projector. The Blue Shield instantly activated the force field that gave him his name.

“Identify yourself immediately,” he barked, bracing himself for an attack.

That’s when he saw it. A tiny, almost childlike figure, floated above the Projector. The figure was featureless and appeared to be made of some type of energy. It glowed white hot.

The Shield tried to call for reinforcements, but his com was dead.

“Identify yourself,” the Shield repeated, a hint of fear creeping into his voice.

Then the figure turned its head in his direction.

“Mommy,” it said, reaching for him.

To be continued…