Episode 71

- Part IV

... from the Files of Hydrogen Guy

Room 26 in the Cloudy Falls Halfway House for Reforming Super-Villains this evening had been doing some respectable business. At the moment, it contained Hans-Raoul, Robyn Cheung, and Dr. Emmanuel Lewis Hawking. The room also contained the dead body of a steward named Brian. What the room was lacking was its intended occupant, Dr. Brandin Marlowe.

Hans-Raoul rushed past Robyn Cheung and shut the bedroom door. He spoke quickly.

Hans-Raoul
Is there anyone else in the building?

Robyn
I told the tights there was but there isn't... they're all still at the race-track. But they'll be back any minute, it's almost six...

His brow's furrowing muscles sprang into action. He made a move towards the bed.

Hans-Raoul
Then we'll have to move fast. Hawking, help me move the body into the bed. Robyn, grab some spare blankets, pillows, whatever, from the linen closet. If you don't know where it is, just go to the nearest rooms.

Robyn
Right.

She exited, closing the door behind her. He yanked back the sheets on the bed, then leapt to grab the ex-steward's shoulders. Hawking handled the feet.

Hawking
I still don't understand how this is possible. Where did Marlowe obtain a weapon?

Hans-Raoul
Did you perform a full body-cavity search?

Hawking
Really, Galerkin...

Hans-Raoul
That method's been tried... I think it more likely that somebody came in through the window, plugged the steward, and then took Marlowe with him.

They dropped the body onto the bed. They turned it over so its back was to the door, and started arranging its limbs in a sleeping posture.

Hawking
You're talking like the three-hundred pound man was jeweled necklace.

Hans-Raoul
To us he is.

Hawking
No, what I mean is it couldn't be that simple. How could a man Marlowe's size fit through that window?

Hans-Raoul
He couldn't, it's impossible.

Hawking
Then he must not have left the building.

Hans-Raoul
We can't rule that possibility out yet, either, but I'm not taking any chances. Basically, Hawking, we don't have time to play Hercule Poroit. We don't know where Marlowe is, he could be anywhere, and getting farther away every second. The fact that his escape seems impossible is just a side issue.

The door opened, and Robyn rushed in laden with pillows and blankets.

Robyn
Think this will do it?

Hans-Raoul
It should be enough. All right, start padding him out, then draw the covers.

They went to work. Moments later, a Brandin Marlowe-sized lump seemed to be slumbering peacefully in the bed with the covers pulled up over his head. Hans-Raoul went to the window to close it, then changed his mind. He first examined the window sill, then ducked down and leaned out. The window was on the second floor. There was no eaves or verandah on this side of the house; it was a shear drop to the rose bushes below. Hans-Raoul examined the window sill on the outside, and the nearby siding. He peered down at the ground and the rose bushes, and wished he had a flashlight.

He drew his head back inside, stood and shut the window. He locked it for good measure, and drew the curtains.

Hans-Raoul
Well, here's something else for you to think on, Hawking - there's no signs of a ladder being leaned against the window sill. If we have time, we should have a look at the ground under the window... Robyn, you have the key for this room at the front desk?

Robyn
I think so.

Hans-Raoul
Lock this room and then lose it. That'll buy us some more time. Have we forgotten anything?

Hawking
The carpet.

Hans-Raoul looked down at the prominent bloodstain in front of the bed.

Hans-Raoul
Of course... ah, luggage. Move that in front of the bed, that should cover it.

Hawking did so. Hans-Raoul nodded.

Hans-Raoul
Good. If we're in luck, that should buy us twelve hours or more before anyone finds Marlowe gone. That's twelve hours for us to find him before it becomes a race against Captain Toronto and the cops.

He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

Hans-Raoul
Let's start searching the house. If he's here, he won't be hard to find. In the meantime I'll get Bob and the Crustacean's henches to start looking for Marlowe, possibly in the company of someone who can fly.... Robyn, get the lights on your way out.

It had in fact been only ten minutes before Hans-Raoul and Dr. Hawking walked through the door of Cloudy Falls Halfway House that Dr. Brandin Marlowe and friend had left through the window. Marlowe had just emerged from the washroom to find Brian the steward straightening the bed. Brian asked how he liked the room; then, quite suddenly, the window sprang open and the room seemed to fill with feathers. There was a sharp zip sound, followed by a thud; Marlowe found that Brian had now left the conversation, and that a young Asian man with a prominent pair of feathered wings had joined it.

The conversation could of course not fail to take a sudden turn towards new topics. The newcomer asked if his host was Marlowe; Marlowe replied in the affirmative. Marlowe asked who the devil the other was; the other gave his name as Kentaro Ishida, and said that he intended to bust Marlowe out of here. Marlowe told Ishida that under the circumstances, he felt it would be impolite not to go along with it. Now was not the time to look gift horses in mouths, Marlowe felt, although an appointment with the nearest veterinary dentist would be his first priority once things had settled down a bit.

Kentaro, for his part, was thinking uncharitable thoughts towards Camus. Aside from the front desk and the steward's room, this was the only room in the house that observation had told him was currently occupied. Despite the inconvenience that the dead steward would pose, he'd hoped that this man mountain wouldn't turn out to be Marlowe. But, he did, and now Kentaro was stuck with someone who would obviously slow him down nearly as much as a fully-grown centaur would. Particularly how to get him out of the place, the window obviously no longer being an option. A normal-sized man he could carry the necessary few feet to the ground, but this guy wouldn't even fit through. It would have behooved Camus to have mentioned this fact, he thought, as he desperately tried to formulate an escape rout through the unknown house that wouldn't get them caught.

Marlowe clearly anticipated this concern. He told Kentaro to go alone through the window; he (Marlowe) would be right behind. Kentaro was skeptical, but Marlowe also pointed out he had no other choice.

Kentaro climbed out the window and fluttered to the ground. He holstered his gun and turned to look back up to the window, expecting to either see Marlowe stuck part-way through or to hear him yelling for help, and was surprised to find Marlowe pulling himself out of the rose bushes, a pained and drawn expression on his face. Neither needed any further encouragement to head for the back road where Kentaro had parked his car.

The issue of how Marlowe had done it nagged at Kentaro, until they reached the outer perimeter wall. A stone retaining wall, mostly decorative, rose about three feet, and decorative wrought-iron bars extended another six feet up. Kentaro could simply fly over it, but again Marlowe presented the difficulty. Marlowe told him to go. Kentaro jumped, flapped, and landed on the other side. On this occasion, he was in time to watch Marlowe's technique.

Marlowe made it through, albeit on his knees. He looked worse. Kentaro offered him a concerned hand.

Kentaro
You okay?

Marlowe nodded, accepting the hand up.

Marlowe
Yes... Oooo!

He leaned on Kentaro as he got up so that Kentaro was almost pulled to the ground.

Marlowe
Terribly sorry. Thank you. It is a painful procedure; I reserve it only for the most dire circumstances... Now, I suggest we go. You can answer my questions in the car.

A few trees separated them from Kentaro's car, a silver Lexxus whose previous owner somewhere in Toronto was unaware that he was the previous owner. Before they got in, Kentaro paused a minute to pull a trench coat from the truck, fold his wings as tightly as he could, and throw it on. He lacked the time or inclination to bind the wings into place, so he looked considerably more hunchbacked than usual when incognito.

The car took off in a spray of gravel. They were silent as Marlowe found his extra-large self a comfortable position in the medium passenger seat. When this was accomplished, he turned to his rescuer.

Marlowe
So, Mr. Ishida. Who are you, exactly, and why have you taken this foolhardy risk?

Kentaro silently flipped open a compartment in the console and handed Marlowe a business card made of flexible, translucent plastic. Marlowe examined it.

Marlowe
Chimera, Incorporated.

Kentaro
There's three of us. The other two are like me.

Marlowe
Wingèd men?

Kentaro
No. A centaur and a guy with a dog's head.

Marlowe
Ah. I had hoped that Camus would contact me again, but I had not anticipated it would be so soon...

Kentaro
Actually, Camus doesn't know I've done this yet. I visited him this morning and he mentioned your name as someone who could help us.

Marlowe
Ah. You require my medical expertise?

Kentaro
Me, no. I don't know about Georges, if he had any problems, he kept them to himself. What I mean is, maybe you can help us figure out how we got this way.

Marlowe
I see... you and this Georges, like Camus you are unaware who altered you to your present forms?

Kentaro
Right. First thing I want to know, was it you?

Marlowe smiled.

Marlowe
If I said it was, would I leave this car alive?

Kentaro
Probably not.

His expression remained constant.

Marlowe
No, I doubt I would. But, no, Mr. Ishida, it was not I. My specialty was always in the creation of semi-sentient creatures from scratch, as it were, not the alteration of human normals. I have examined your partner Camus extensively, and I would be ashamed to have performed such substandard work.

Kentaro
Camus got a pretty raw deal. He suffers from a lot of pain, but they also made sure he could handle it. Not that he enjoys it. Georges, too; I gather he was pretty messed up before, psychologically I mean, but after it just made him completely psychotic.

Marlowe
And what about yourself, Mr. Ishida?

Kentaro
I'm fine. I'm stronger, lighter, faster. I heal insanely fast. Women actually find me more attractive. So far it's been nothing but benefits.

Marlowe
You make it sound as if you feel guilty.

Kentaro
I don't. I resent having my body screwed around with and my memory wiped. I also worry that one day Dr. Mad or whoever is going to show up and make me an offer I can't refuse.

Marlowe
Which brings me back to our own situation.

Kentaro
Right. Consider this a favour, Dr. Marlowe. You owe one to Chimera, and expect us to call it in one day.

Marlowe
I understand. That favour will be returned, Mr. Ishida. Since my unfortunate incarceration, I have decided to dedicate the remainder of my career to improving the situation of those such as ourselves. Finding your molesters and stopping them, I feel, would go towards achieving that goal.

Kentaro
Great. Glad to hear it. If you need me, you can contact me through that number on the card. If we need you, we'll find you.

Marlowe smiled again.

Marlowe
Of course.

Kentaro glanced in the rear-view mirror. He had been following a random route away from the halfway house. They weren't being followed.

Kentaro
You have any plans where you're going to go?

Marlowe
Not immediately, I confess. My organization has been largely dismantled in my absence, though I am not wholly without funds.

Kentaro
I know a house outside Ottawa where you can lay low for a while. It belongs to some people who work for my family. That money of yours will come in handy there.

Marlowe
I see. That will do nicely. If I could persuade you to make a stop in town, I will make a withdrawal.

The diner in Kingston was not accustomed to superhero clientele, so Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy found themselves being given a wide berth by staff and customers alike. And of course, exotic periodic table-related requests were right out. Nonetheless, they were able to squeeze a pot of tea, a large cappuccino, and a plate of nachos out of the least timid of the two waitresses.

The two had been sitting in silence for some time as their beverages cooled.

Hydrogen Guy
It just doesn't sit well.

Deuterium Boy pulled his eyelids up at the last minute. The large cappuccino, it should be added, seemed a lot like a small cappuccino with the rest padded out by luke hot water.

Deuterium Boy
Huh what? The nachos?

Hydrogen Guy pushed his plate away, containing a half-finished pile of rubble covered in some kind of rubbery sheet.

Hydrogen Guy
I have much to say about the alleged nachos, but that's not what I meant. I'm talking about today's activities. I don't know what it is, I can't put my finger on it, but something about it didn't strike me as being all right.

Deuterium Boy
Captain Toronto seemed satisfied.

Hydrogen Guy
I know, and that speaks volumes. But still... I don't know. Maybe I'm just tired.

Deuterium Boy
Probably. Get a good night's sleep, then tomorrow we'll fly back to Maple Ridge.

Hydrogen Guy brightened up somewhat.

Hydrogen Guy
Hey, and you know, I'll be able to work on my birthday surprise for you when we get back.

Deuterium Boy looked suspicious.

Deuterium Boy
What surprise?

Hydrogen Guy
You'll see.

Deuterium Boy
I'm not going to like this, am I? It's not another llama, is it?

Hydrogen Guy
No, no. Trust me, I'm never going to make that mistake again... Don't worry, I know you'll like this.

Deuterium Boy
I'm still unsettled.

Hydrogen Guy poured himself some more tea. The pot gave up another quarter cup, then fizzled out. He peered at it in dissatisfaction.

Hydrogen Guy
Some days... Anyway, getting back to the res...

Deuterium Boy
The what?

Hydrogen Guy
The res. It's legal slang, means "the matter at hand".

Deuterium Boy
If you say so.

Hydrogen Guy
I do. The res, I was saying, was that I'm mysteriously unsettled about the whole Mutant Maker thing. Sure, we foiled Bob's attack -- all right, Captain Toronto did -- but is there more to it than that? It's ironic, as Captain Toronto's fears have vanished, suddenly I'm taking them more seriously... DB, are you listening?

Deuterium Boy
I'm just resting my eyes... Are you worried Bob and ICBC are going to try something else?

Hydrogen Guy
I can't see them just giving up. Cap says a frontal assault on the house wouldn't work. Possibly they'd try something more subtle.

Deuterium Boy
He said he'd keep an eye out. I know he will, he's obsessed about the Mutant Maker.

Hydrogen Guy
I guess... I don't know, DB. Maybe it's just a feeling of uselessness. We came all this way, and didn't do anything but sit in the van and get tossed around by Bob's mechanical pals.

Deuterium Boy
That makes sense. But I wouldn't worry about it. You know how it goes... some you win, some you lose.

Hydrogen Guy
I guess. Like you said, a good night's sleep and I'm sure everything will be fine.

Deuterium Boy made a conciliatory noise. He picked stray bits of vegetable matter out of his nachos and was silent for a few minutes, as Hydrogen Guy tried to signal the waitress for more tea. As much as he had reassured his partner, Deuterium Boy had his own thought which had been pestering him for the last hour.

Deuterium Boy
HG...

Hydrogen Guy
I know she saw me, but she just ducked back in the kitchen... What's up, DB?

Deuterium Boy
The receptionist at the place...

Hydrogen Guy
Cloudy Falls? Sure. Very attractive Chinese girl.

Deuterium Boy
Did she look familiar to you?

Hydrogen Guy
Mmm... no, not really. She did to you?

Deuterium Boy
I swear I've seen her before.

Hydrogen Guy
Maybe you did. I'm sure she hasn't spent her whole life in Kingston. Did we go to school with her?

Deuterium Boy
No, I'm sure it was more recently. I have a feeling it was someplace strange.

Hydrogen Guy
Narrow it down a bit.

Deuterium Boy
I wish I could.

Hydrogen Guy shrugged.

Hydrogen Guy
I don't know. Can't help you. You think it matters, or are you just musing?

Deuterium Boy
I'm not sure.

Hydrogen Guy swigged the last dregs of his tea, then looked thoughtfully at his cup.

Hydrogen Guy
You know, now that I think of it, I think I have seen her before. I think she was in New York last fall. Probably was there as an intern or something. I bet that's it, DB.

Deuterium Boy
Hmmm... you might be right. Yeah, probably you are.

Hydrogen Guy
You should take your own advice - sleep on it. I'm sure all will be clear tomorrow.

Deuterium Boy
Probably right. Waitress.

Hydrogen Guy
A ha! Hey! Hey -- aw, nuts. DB, we're not tipping.

A little more than an hour after leaving Cloudy Falls, Kentaro leaned against the Lexxus, smoking a cigarette. He was in the parking lot of a strip-mall in Kingston; Marlowe had gone into the nearest CIBC bank to take money out of one of his alias accounts. Swiss bank accounts are great and all, but they don't provide no-fee ATM access.

Kentaro was racking his brain, trying to figure out what to do next. Strategy obviously wasn't his business; that was supposed to be Camus's job. He had to elude whatever search would be made from here to Ottawa. After that, he'd go south, and start casing the Facility. And then --- jeez. Maybe he should bust Camus first...

His thoughts were interrupted by a roar overhead. The windows of the car and nearby stores rattled, and he could feel the vibrations in his chest. He looked up in time to see what looked like a small jet retreating overhead. There was an army base in Kingston, wasn't there? Then the object circled around, as if to make another pass. As it got closer, he could see it was some kind of robot. He dropped his cigarette and his hand reached for his Brigadier .45. He turned his head to look in the bank; Marlowe, still wearing his orange Soil uniform with a white T-shirt pulled over the top, was waiting in line to use the machine.

The robot was descending, coming down about fifty feet away. Its jets stirred up dust and litter in the parking lot. It scanned the lot with its single large red eye, and seemed to fix on something in Kentaro's direction. It swung itself around and started clanking towards the bank.

This, though Kentaro, is not looking good. He drew the gun, and his other hand reached around to grab the second one he kept strapped in the small of his back. Not that these would do any good against that thing, he thought, unless I got really lucky.

He stood with his arms relaxed at his side, a gun in each hand, concealed in the folds of his coat. The robot stopped in the centre of the next row of parking spots away from him and gave him the once over.

Nice sense of style, the mind that had once been Robért Ballistier thought. Snow fatigues and a trenchcoat, that's so insurgent! Excellent quality coat, too, a classic! He doesn't think he can hurt me with those little pop-rocks he's hiding, does he?

Kentaro
Can I help you?

He kept his voice steady, not much above a conversational tone. His vital signs are weird, Bob realized.

Battle Cyborg Bob
I'm looking for a pal of mine. Chubby fellah, kinda butch looking. Probably wearing too much orange.

Kentaro shrugged casually.

Kentaro
Sorry.

Battle Cyborg Bob
Maybe I'll just have a look-see in the bank.

Kentaro
I dunno, it's pretty busy in there. You may have to wait a while.

Battle Cyborg Bob
I'll take --

In two practiced motions combined into one, Kentaro raised both guns and fired into Bob's optical sensor; at the same time he used his shoulders and wings to shrug the trenchcoat off. He didn't expect to do any serious damage, and he didn't, but he succeeded in distracting him for a split second as a few rounds worth bounced off the Bob's eye. Kentaro took a short run towards Bob and took off into the air. A couple powerful flaps and he sailed over Bob's head and started ascending.

Battle Cyborg Bob
That little -- ! I'll be a monkey's aunt!

If Bob had one flaw - aside from an obsession with the sartorial side of life and a tendency for overkill - it was that he was too impulsive. His mother had always told him so. The prudent thing to do, of course, would have been to ignore Kentaro and carry on with his plan to tear open the ATM alcove and grab Marlowe. But Bob, as has been demonstrated time and again, is a man of whims, so instead he fired up his jump-jets and rocket boots and took off in pursuit.

Kentaro was climbing fairly quickly on muscle-power alone, and Bob was surprised at the effort he had to put into catching up. They were a few hundred meters up before he was in reaching distance. His left hand almost closed over Kentaro's ankle when his quarry swooped like a sparrow out of harm's way, and then delivered a few more rounds at point blank range to Bob's armoured chest. He darted away again as Bob made a second grab.

It was Bob's second mid-air fight that day, and he didn't plan on repeating his mistakes with Captain Toronto. He didn't waste time on witty remarks that would go unappreciated, and he wouldn't waste power on energy shots when he could simply, as he had exhorted his comrades earlier, grip and hold the living bejeezeus out of him.

Kentaro knew he was outmatched for both speed and firepower; his best chance was to essentially play mid-air keep-away until he could think of something clever. Not for the first time that day, he cursed Camus for putting this crazy idea in his head while simultaneously wishing he had Camus's brains. Why couldn't those goddamn genetic rapists have augmented me with super-smarts?

He dodged another grab by Bob, this time much closer than he would have liked. He repeated his strategy of dive and shoot, hoping the bullets would eventually find a weak spot. Not bloody likely, thought Bob, although he's pissing me off pretty effectively.

Kentaro figured this out at the same time. He dove again, and this time circled around and started flapping like mad. He could break 100 clicks if he tried, but then Bob didn't need to try... This was a really dumb idea, thought Kentaro ruefully.

A plasma blast tore past him, close enough that he caught a whiff of burnt feathers. Bob had evidently abandoned the simple approach for the sure-fire. Kentaro tried not to think of Icarus. He glanced back to see Bob leisurely gaining on him as he lined up his next shot. Kentaro started diving and swooping some more, trying to make it harder for him. The drawback, of course, being that it's easier to dive and swoop oneself into a plasma bolt if one's not careful...

Something small seemed to brush against the edge of his mind. He glanced down, and saw a flock of pigeons fluttering around some buildings beneath them, a scene that surely would have made Deuterium Boy shudder. Another plasma blast ripped overhead, and as he dropped to avoid it, he narrowly avoided dropping into a follow-up below. I wish those guys could peck through his armour. Hey... wait a sec...

Suddenly Kentaro started dropping again. He needed to get closer to those pigeons. He tried desperately to concentrate on the message he was sending, while still avoiding Bob's plasma blasts. He narrowly dodged two more, one above and one to his right. Bob by this time was only twenty feet behind, he'd be within his reach any second...

A group of three pigeons broke out of the flock and were heading in his direction. One of Bob's plasma shots cooked one, but the other two didn't seem to notice. They fluttered past Kentaro, straight into Bob's path.

One of the remaining two apparently came to its limited senses and pulled away at the last minute, but the other remained firm in its mission. In a sacrifice that Deuterium Boy would have applauded, it flew straight into one of two intake vents for Bob's rocket boots at a relative velocity of 150-odd km/h.

Bob barely realized what had happened before the rocket boot exploded, taking a good portion of the leg with it. Bob listed severely to one side, turning into an unrecoverable turn, before losing control altogether. He started to plummet, much as an airliner would that had suffered a similar accident with a slightly larger bird...

Kentaro stopped flapping and settled into a glide, circling over the scene of the improbable 'accident'. His main thought could basically be described as Wow. He had projected the general idea to the pigeons, but wasn't sure they'd understand, let alone find the intake vents... He performed one more circle, then took off at top speed back for where he'd left Marlowe.

Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy emerged from the diner, physically if not gastronomically satisfied. They started walking back towards the motel where their League of Heroes (local 441) credit card had secured them a double room.

They had crossed the street and were just crossing the parking lot of the motel when something fell out of the sky practically in front of them.

CRASH!!

They leaped back. Deuterium Boy looked up in alarm, half expecting this was only the first of a series of small asteroid strikes, but saw nothing but what looked like a hawk or some other large bird circling overhead.

Hydrogen Guy was cautiously approaching the shallow, vaguely humanoid crater. People were starting to come out of the motel, curious about the source of the crash.

He looked cautiously into the crater. If he was surprised by what he saw, he didn't show it.

Hydrogen Guy
Ah, Bob. There you are.

Kentaro swooped into the parking lot of the strip mall and made a running landing. He slammed a bit harder than he would have liked into the side of the Lexxus, and stood panting.

He heard the click of a gun behind him. He whirled around, bringing his two pistols to bear on the newcomer.

Hans-Raoul
Oh, Mr. Ishida. I really wish you hadn't done that...

Hans-Raoul stood a few feet away, as unruffled as ever. In his hand was a Walther 9mm. He had Drs. Brandin Marlowe and Emmanuel Lewis Hawking stood nearby. Marlowe looked paternal, and Hawking looked agitated, as he had practically from the moment he'd arrived in the country.

Kentaro looked at Marlowe and favoured him with an unfriendly smile.

Kentaro
Marlowe... this some kind of double-cross?

Marlowe shook his head.

Marlowe
No, Mr. Ishida, although I confess it may appear so. Mr. Galerkin and Dr. Hawking have simply offered to take me off your hands, so to speak.

Kentaro turned his gaze back to Hans-Raoul.

Kentaro
Explain.

Hans-Raoul
Gladly. What say we lower our weapons first, hm?

Kentaro
You first.

They regarded each other for a few more seconds. At last, Hans-Raoul shrugged and tossed his gun on the pavement. Kentaro slowly lowered his own guns, but didn't drop them.

Hans-Raoul
Great. First, I regret that we had to meet like this. I negotiated Chimera's initial ICBC contract with Mr. Sanders, and I've been looking forward to making your acquaintance. My name is Hans-Raoul Galerkin. This is Dr. Emmanuel Lewis Hawking. We're the people who arranged for Dr. Marlowe to be transferred to the halfway house that you, er, liberated him from.

Kentaro let the information sink in.

Kentaro
You... arranged his transfer.

Hans-Raoul
Yes. We had originally planned to simply take him quietly out the back door. I have to admit, you made things a bit more complicated for us. Not to mention...

A pained expression crossed his face.

Hans-Raoul
... expensive. I've had to put Bob together twice already this year.

Kentaro
How did you find us?

The smile returned to Hans-Raoul's face.

Hans-Raoul
Bob tracked you down. I have to admit, we had a few anxious moments. Then I remembered that Soil implants a subdermal tracking chip in all of its inmates.

Kentaro sighed.

Kentaro
Nuts.

Hans-Raoul
Hey, think of it this way; we both got lucky. If it hadn't been for us, you two probably wouldn't have made it to that yak safe-house of yours.

Kentaro turned and dropped both .45's on the hood of the Lexxus. He looked at Hans-Raoul in frustration.

Kentaro
So this has just been a huge waste of my time.

Hans-Raoul
Sorry, yes.

Marlowe
Do not be so self-concerned, Mr. Galerkin. Mr. Ishida, I am still indebted to you. Regardless of any past misunderstanding, I will still give assistance to you and your colleagues whenever you require it.

Kentaro relaxed a bit.

Kentaro
Thanks. Uh... sorry about your robot.

Hans-Raoul
Don't mention it. I think he's salvageable, once we recover him.... Mr. Ishida, I hate to be rude, but I think it would be best if you were to go now. We still have some business to discuss with Dr. Marlowe. And by the way, its possible he may be out of your reach for several months.

Kentaro
Sure. No hard feelings...

He turned to pick up his things and get in the car.

Hans-Raoul
No hard feelings. And to show I'm sincere...

He reached into an inner pocket and produced a small manila package. He tossed it on the hood of the car. Kentaro picked it up and gave him a questioning look.

Hans-Raoul
It's incomplete, but those should help a bit should you wish to extricate M. Chouinard from the Facility. Though I'd guess that between breaking him out and making peace between him and Camus, breaking him out would be the easiest.

Kentaro looked from the package to Hans-Raoul and back.

Kentaro
Thanks, Galerkin.

Hans-Raoul
Don't mention it. Now, leave.

Kentaro
Yes sir. Take it easy, Doc.

He waved to Marlowe and climbed into the car, pulling his trampled coat in after him. Hans-Raoul, Hawking and Marlowe stepped back as the Lexxus drove away. When it was gone, Hawking spoke.

Hawking
You're a very clever businessman, Mr. Galerkin.

Hans-Raoul
I believe in building bridges, Dr. Hawking, not burning them.

He turned to Marlowe.

Hans-Raoul
Now, Dr. Marlowe, you still haven't given us an answer. We need you to remake the Crustacean. Can and will you do it?

Marlowe rumbled in the back of his throat.

Marlowe
Gentlemen, I assure you that far richer men have attempted to buy my services and failed. I now devote myself to improving the lot of those metahumans who have slipped through the cracks - persecuted and imprisoned by the authorities and so-called heroes like Captain Toronto and Hydrogen Guy. I am no longer willing to create such unfortunate creatures for selfish aims.

Hawking
Dr. Marlowe, we are not asking you to create a mutant, but to heal one!

Marlowe
Dr. Hawking, what you propose is nothing less than a complete refabrication. I doubt --

Hawking produced a folder from under his arm.

Hawking
Dr. Marlowe, please just look at the improved Vorpalstein process. Everything I have said, is possible, just beyond my abilities...

Marlowe took the folder and began to examine the notes. He read silently at first, then as the minutes passed, his expression grew more animated. Hans-Raoul had stepped back and was watching the two "mad" scientists.

Marlowe
Dr. Hawking, these are remarkable. I have never seen -- but of course, my own methods -- the theory -- Dr. Hawking, you have given me the key to what I have been groping towards for decades!

Hawking
Marlowe, the key is precise calculation of the Lyaponov exponents. The Claw intimates the method, but --

Marlowe
Omits the details, of course. Hawking, the formalism is one I have spent decades developing. Your Golden Claw points towards several results I have never suspected, but the direction to follow is clear to one with my expertise.

Hawking
Can you solve the problem?

Marlowe
I am confident I can, Hawking, and together the process can be completed in a matter of days.

Hawking
Days?!

Hans-Raoul, feeling that the scientific give and take was becoming a bit heavy, cleared his throat. It was still winter, after all, and the parking lot was beginning to wear a bit thin.

Hans-Raoul
Dr. Marlowe, do we have an agreement?

Marlowe
Yes, Mr. Galerkin, of course. I will rescue the unfortunate Crustacean from the state Hydrogen Guy and his allies have confined him to, and in the process attain the scientific knowledge for which I have been searching a life-time. I will join your organization.

Hans-Raoul
Thank you, Doctor.

Marlowe
On one condition.

Hans-Raoul
Name it.

Marlowe fingered the folder of Hawking's notes in his hands and regarded Hans-Raoul circumspectly.

Marlowe
This process has the potential to save others - I am thinking of one young man in particular, to whom I administered in the Soil. Your organization must assist me in my crusade.

Hans-Raoul smiled and extended his hand. The Mutant Maker clasped it.

Hans-Raoul
Dr. Marlowe, I think doing what's right benefits us all. You have my word.

Since returning from to Maple Ridge from Kingston two weeks earlier, Deuterium Boy had become increasingly tense.

Part of it, admittedly, was due to the discovery the day of their return that the Mutant Maker had somehow escaped from Cloudy Falls Halfway House for Reforming Super-Villains, shooting a steward and placing his body in the bed. Captain Toronto, predictably enough, was livid. To make the matter worse, Deuterium Boy had realized that the receptionist at Cloudy Falls was the same woman he had fought with over an amulet in Hell, whom Hydrogen Guy said Hans-Raoul had introduced as his secretary. They decided that it would be best not to share this information with Captain Toronto, who might have something to say about their memory lapse.

No, mostly it was a feeling of intense forboding. Hydrogen Guy had taken a couple secretive phone calls, and once Deuterium Boy had come into the living room to find him stuffing some kind of glossy brochure under the couch cushions. It was gone when he looked later. Deuterium Boy felt it did not bode well. He was waiting for shoes - or possibly another llama - to start dropping.

He and Hydrogen Guy were just preparing for their usual Thursday night patrol when they heard a signal from the Hydrogen Comm Centre. Dashing back into the living room, they approached the wide-screen communications console that occupied one wall of the Cave. Deuterium Boy glanced at the call-display curiously, and found his forboding feeling intensify

Deuterium Boy
Huh. Video call, from an unknown number in Torrado.

Hydrogen Guy straightened his mask and checked his tie's knot in the reflection on the console's flat panel.

Hydrogen Guy
If it's my ex, I'm going to fake a seizure. Have at it, DB.

Deuterium Boy
She'll probably just think you're dancing.

He opened the channel. A familiar spiny visage greeted them on the screen. Hydrogen Guy practically didn't have to fake.

Crustacean
Good evening, Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy.

Hydrogen Guy
Great Feynman's Ghost!

Dramatic Music!

Deuterium Boy
Holy Spawn of Leviathan, the Crustacean!

Crustacean
Yes, very good, my dear Deuterium Boob. I'm glad you recognized me.

Indeed, he appeared slightly different than he had before. His colour had altered from the brown, white and green that 'Admiral Pete' had been, to a more boiled-looking red.

Hydrogen Guy
Where've you been hiding yourself, you foul fiend of the frozen depths, and what Evil have you been up to?

Crustacean
Oh, very well put, Hydrogen Guy. I'm glad to see you've been saving up the clichés for my return... No, no evil schemes, not today, at any rate. I just wanted to see how you were, thank you, of course, for resurrecting me (albeit incompetently), and most importantly, for sending the good Dr. Brandin Marlowe my way. A very useful sort of mammal to have around, I may keep him around after I conquer this planet...

Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy exchanged worried glances. Oh, Captain Toronto wouldn't like hearing about this...

Crustacean
I also wished to inform you that after some intense negotiations, I have signed a five year contract with the Insurance Corporation of British Columbia. I will be their official spokes-lobster, as well as be doing a bit of freelancing for them.

Deuterium Boy felt awash in dropping shoes. Hydrogen Guy stared at the screen, looking like he wanted to smash it with the nearest water cooler.

Hydrogen Guy
Oh, really.

Crustacean
But most of all, my dear Diatomic Dunces, my Covalent Chowderheads, my Moronic Mammalian Misfits, I wanted you to know... I'm back.

[play ominous music; fade to black; roll credits]