Episode 69
- Part II
... from the Files of Hydrogen Guy
The Story So Far: The ICBC Comptroller offers Hans-Raoul an opportunity to redeem himself; Dr. Emmanuel Lewis Hawking concedes he needs outside help in fully restoring the Crustacean; and Special Agent Parker asks for the Diatomic Duo's help back east in Ontario. The connection? Everybody wants the Mutant Maker.
An airfield outside Kingston, Ontario, in the early morning; in the east, the sky was just beginning to blush.
A private two-engine plane taxied in from the runway and slowly came to a halt. Airport personnel surrounded it, moving the gangplank into position and shuffling hoses and carts around. After several minutes, the plane's hatch opened, and three people emerged. Or rather, two men and a bear.
A lone figure walked across the tarmac to greet them. As he approached, the two men were attempting to drag the panda bear away from the fuel lines.
Pu Wing Fu
Aw, come on! BOOM! It's tasty!
Hans-Raoul
Ah... Dr. Hawking?
The older, smaller man looked at him with surprise and a trace of alarm.
Hawking
Yes?
Hans-Raoul
My name is Hans-Raoul Galerkin. I'm ICBC's
senior vice-president in charge of Crisis Suppression.
Hawking
Where is Maurice?
Hans-Raoul
I'm sorry for the deception, doctor, but
your old friend was acting on my behalf. I thought since your current position
with the Corporation is -- a little undefined, maybe? -- it would be easier if I
went through him, rather than contact you directly. Don't worry, Dr. Hawking --
we're willing to let bygones be bygones. I'm here to offer you my full
support.
Hawking
Ah.. well, I'm relieved to hear that.
He shook Hans-Raoul's proffered hand.
Hawking
Let me introduce my associates, and the
Crustacean's - Pu Wing Fu and "Big" Joseph Switchboard.
Big Joe
How's it goin'.
Pu Wing Fu
KILL!
Big Joe
Nah, Pu, not yet... sorry, she's always like
this after a flight...
Hans-Raoul smiled. He pulled a small tin from his jacket pocket.
Hans-Raoul
I thought she might be... here, Pu. Some
shortbread.
Pu Wing Fu
Yay!
She grabbed the tin from his hand.
Pu Wing Fu
Thank you, ICBC Man!
She started happily chewing on the tin.
Hans-Raoul
Enjoy... I have a car waiting just over
there. I've already made arrangements for your luggage. Shall we?
Hawking
Yes, thank you very much... I must confess, Mr.
Galerkin, that ICBC's attitude puzzles me. Neither I nor the Crustacean are
favorites of ICBC, at least not that I'm aware of. And yet you seem to be going
to so much trouble...
Hans-Raoul
Well, frankly, doctor, the Corporation wants
to see the Crustacean fully restored as much as you do. Once he's feeling
himself again, I'd like to offer him a position within our
organization...
Hawking
Yes... and I suppose you would also be eager to
see ICBC control the improved Vorpalstein process, hm?
Hans-Raoul
If we could, certainly.
Hawking
Mr. Galerkin... I don't think an army of
Crustaceans would be in humanity's best interests. I'm willing to restore the
Crustacean... I don't know why exactly, although the panda did not give me many
options... but I want to see it stop there.
Hans-Raoul
Dr. Hawking, you were once head of our
European theatre of operations. The Corporation's interests were your own. What
made you change your mind?
Hawking
Living in the jungle for four years after being
a mind-controlled puppet of the Crustacean tends to make one contemplative, Mr.
Galerkin.
Hans-Raoul
I see... I admit, I agree with you. But tell
me, doctor, which would you rather see - the Crustacean on his own,
creating this unholy army of super-lobsters to do his bidding; or the Crustacean
and the process both safely yoked by ICBC, whose goals and methods are perfectly
familiar to you, and which is more than happy with the status quo...?
Hawking
If you put it those terms... ICBC would
certainly be the lesser of two evils.
Hans-Raoul
What about you, Mr. Switchboard?
Big Joe shrugged.
Big Joe
ICBC pays pretty good, don't they?
Hans-Raoul
We're extremely competitive.
Big Joe
That's what I'm interested in... and Pu, she's
just loyal to the Crustacean. She'll go where he goes, as long as she gets to
blow some stuff up.
Hans-Raoul
Don't worry. Things will be blown up. You
have my word on it.
Pu Wing Fu
BOOM!
Later the same day, Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy waited restlessly on the roof of a downtown Toronto skyscraper. Both forewent the traditional stylishness of the flowing (or, well, in Deuterium Boy's case, fluttering) capes in favour of long scarves and cozy warm parkas.
Hydrogen Guy
Something nobody ever mentions about the
roofs of office buildings is how bloody cold they are. Especially in Toronto, in
February.
Deuterium Boy
You have an icicle hanging from your
feather.
Hydrogen Guy
That's not the only place... I don't see
why Captain Toronto couldn't meet us someplace civilised, like in nice, warm
coffee shop...
Deuterium Boy spied a bolt of indigo in the grey winter sky.
Deuterium Boy
Here he comes.
Less than a second later, it streaked across the rooftop. Hydrogen Guy pulled his scarf up against the sudden increase in the wind-chill. When the gust subsided, Captain Toronto, protector of Canada's largest metropolis, stood before them. He was dressed as he always was, in a head-to-toe blue and white body-suit decorated with stylized maple leaves. Either that thing's hella insulated, thought Hydrogen Guy, or he's impervious to cold. Hard to tell with superheroes...
Hydrogen Guy
Hi, Captain.
Deuterium Boy
Oh Captain, my Captain.
The Captain favoured them with his usual grim smile.
Captain Toronto
Gentlemen. Thank you for meeting with
me. Not too cold for you, I hope?
Deuterium Boy
Don't worry about it. It reminds us we're
alive. And have 35,000 individual goose-bumps.
Captain Toronto
I know it's something of a pain, but I
prefer to speak where there's less chance of idle listeners. Or not-so-idle, as
the case may be.
Hydrogen Guy
I'm guessing you want to talk about the
Mutant Maker's transfer from Southern Ontario International Life-Term.
Captain Toronto nodded.
Captain Toronto
Precisely. Gentlemen, I am ill at ease.
Something about this whole set-up strikes me as... fishy.
Hydrogen Guy
Well, there is a fish-and-chip shop 32
floors down.
Deuterium Boy
I think the Captain means he thinks the
transfer's a cover for some kind of pernicious plot to free the Mutant Maker,
HG.
Hydrogen Guy
Thank you, DB, I missed that
completely...
Captain Toronto
I don't think you fully understand the
depth of my misgivings, Hydrogen Guy. The deal NAFTAPOL made with ICBC demanded
the Mutant Maker's transfer. However, the Mutant Maker was never a member of
ICBC; in fact, he frequently came into conflict with them during the years of
our famous battle. So why would the Corporation want him freed, or his condition
improved?
Deuterium Boy
They want him for something.
Captain Toronto
Yes, but what?
Hydrogen Guy
I can't think of anything. The classic
"creating an army of mutants" plan might have been their thing in the
Gaas-Hawking-Ironcore heyday five years ago, but not anymore. They're driving
their X Department further underground and abandoning the whole mad scientist
schtick.
Captain Toronto
That's what I suspected, Hydrogen Guy,
but I wanted to hear it from you. You're the expert on that nefarious
cartel.
Hydrogen Guy
You flatter me, Captain.
Deuterium Boy
[aside] Oh, brother... [aloud] Okay, so
maybe it's something else. He's crossed them somehow, and they're setting up an
assassination attempt?
Captain Toronto shook his head.
Captain Toronto
No, if they wanted him dead, they could
get to him in the Soil.
Hydrogen Guy
True... Okay, let me play Comptroller's
Advocate for a second. ICBC's going legit, and according to Parker, Marlowe's
going humanitarian.
Captain Toronto
And pigs may fly, Hydrogen
Guy.
Deuterium Boy
Actually, there's the Power Pig and the
Soaring Sow in Kansas --
Hydrogen Guy
DB...
Deuterium Boy
Sorry.
Hydrogen Guy
Okay, so taking a gneral increase in
niceness as our ansatz -- maybe ICBC simply has an interest in moving Marlowe to
more comfortable digs.
Captain Toronto
Why?
Hydrogen Guy
Maybe Marlowe already did something
for them, and in exchange ICBC agreed to get him moved to Cloudy
Falls.
Captain Toronto
There is that possibility. Nonetheless,
I find it difficult to simply assume that NAFTAPOL knows what it's doing and
always acts for the best. I've been told, stop worrying, your battle with the
Mutant Maker is over. But one of the things I've learned is that nothing is
ever over.
Hydrogen Guy
You're doing all you can, Captain. You
can't be everywhere all the time.
Captain Toronto
That's what we keep telling ourselves,
isn't it... Frankly, I have grave doubts about NAFTAPOL. Amoung other points,
they lack accountability. And judging by this "deal" of theirs, they lack common
sense.
Hydrogen Guy
I think your diversion scheme should work
out pretty well. With the two of us and Parker, the Mutant Maker will be in good
hands.
Captain Toronto
Capital. Our convoy will be leading
yours by two hours, so with any luck we'll draw whatever fire may be lying in
wait. Nonetheless, I'd like you to treat this transfer as if you were walking
into a trap. The rest you can leave to me.
Deuterium Boy
Sounds simple enough... Cloudy Falls
knows about the switch, right?
Captain Toronto
Affirmative. I asked the director to
keep it confidential - no one will realize they have the wrong Marlowe until
just before the right one arrives.
He sighed.
Captain Toronto
With any luck, Hydrogen Guy is right
and I am simply worrying over nothing. Thank you for hearing me out, gentlemen.
I'll be in touch. Au revoir!
He stepped to the edge of the roof, and in a cerulean flash, he was gone, once again flying over the spires of the Mega-City like a guardian angel.
Hydrogen Guy pushed the imagery from his mind before it made him nauseous.
Hydrogen Guy
Well, that was a fairly predictable
conversation.
He pondered the skyline, dominated by the CN Tower.
Hydrogen Guy
Pernicious?
Deuterium Boy
Injurious; causing harm or injury.
Hydrogen Guy
You are the master, DB.
Deuterium Boy
Thanks. Now let's get inside and pour a
few gallons of warm gourmet beverages into our gullets.
The following morning, a very large man in an orange prison uniform was led from Southern Ontario International Life-Term's main building into a waiting caravan. RCMP cars, SHVD officers and heavily armed Soil guards milled around the facility's rear loading area. From one side of the yard, a figure in blue and white watched the whole proceeding carefully.
The large man stepped into the caravan, and two Soil guards went in with him. The door was shut and locked, and then the rest of the convoy was quickly readied for departure. One by one, the automobiles started to pull out. As the last RCMP car left the yard, Captain Toronto exchanged a few final words with prison officials, then took to the air, following the caravan.
It looked convincing enough. Any observer would have believed that the large convoy with all its showy security was taking the genuine Dr. Brandin Marlowe to Kingston. However, at the time the real Marlowe (alias, of course, the Mutant Maker) was collecting his possessions in his cell, unaware of his heavily-padded doppelganger outside.
Two hours later, Deuterium Boy and Special Agent Parker of the SHVD completed their security check of the minivan that would take them to Kingston. Two Soil guards stood by in the otherwise empty garage. The van was a recent model, beige, without any prison or police markings, and had tinted windows. Parker stepped back and nodded, satisfied.
Parker
No jiggery-pokery. Colour could be less
repulsive, but otherwise it checks out. Now all we need is Hydrogen Guy and the
Fat Man.
They heard the secure door leading into the garage being unlocked.
Deuterium Boy
Unless I'm mistaken, here's the Mutant
Maker.
The door opened, and the girthly Marlowe was lead into the garage by two more guards. He paused when he saw Deuterium Boy.
Marlowe
Well... this is quite a surprise.
Deuterium Boy -- I expected to see the good Captain here to see me
off.
Deuterium Boy
Sorry, Doctor. He had more important
things to do.
Marlowe
You wound me, Deuterium Boy.
Guard #1
That's enough, 19054. Let's go.
Marlowe
How I shall miss that sobriquet...
Patience, my dear Prevost. The Isotopic Amigo and I are old friends. We
have time yet... And where is your partner, Deuterium Boy? You would not
wound my pride by telling me a mere sidekick is all they are
assigning me on this journey?
Parker
Watch it, Mister.
Deuterium Boy
Easy, Parker... Hydrogen Guy's talking to
your warden, Marlowe.
Marlowe
Hmph hmph... basking in the spotlight,
you mean, while the true labour is left to you. Hydrogen Guy has learned
much from Captain Toronto, hmph hmph hmph...
The guards lead him towards the minivan. The other two guards moved to the van, one of them sliding the passenger door open. Marlowe nodded courteously. As he prepared to climb inside, one of the guards cleared his throat significantly.
Guard #2
Ah, 19054... I mean, Dr. Marlowe... the other
fellows and I wanted to show our appreciation for the work you've done around
here. It was awfully big of you --
Another guard elbowed him in the ribs.
Guard #2
-- kind of you, I mean, to help the other
prisoners out. Your being a world expert on metahuman medicine and all, made
life a lot better for all of us, guards and prisoners alike.
Marlowe
Thank you, Sabourin. It is kind of you
to say.
Guard #2
We got together and had a little momento made
up for you...
Another guard handed Marlowe a cloth bundle. He unwrapped it to unveil an XXL t-shirt; written on the front was "I got SOILed at Southern Ontario International Life-Term...", and on the back, "...and all I got was this lousy T-shirt".
Marlowe
Hmph hmph hmph! Thank you,
gentlemen. It will be just the thing for Casual Fridays at the new
facility. My best to you all.
Deuterium Boy exchanged amused looks with Parker as the guards helped him into the minivan. Just then a second door opened, one leading from the prison's administrative wing. Hydrogen Guy and the warden emerged into the garage.
Hydrogen Guy
Well, thank you for the tea, Mme.
Fortin.
Warden
My pleasure, Hydrogen Guy. Commissioner Duquais
was disappointed he couldn't meet you himself, but this call to Director Simmons
at the Facility was scheduled well before NAFTAPOL requested the
transfer.
Hydrogen Guy
Be sure to give him our regards.
Warden
I certainly will... Deuterium Boy, it was a
pleasure to meet you as well, I'm sorry you couldn't join us for tea.
Deuterium Boy
Somebody has to be working, I guess.
Thank you, Warden.
Warden
Now, you're sure you don't want any guards sent
with you?
Parker
No thanks, ma'am. It'll be crowded in there as
it is.
Hydrogen Guy
We're not expecting any trouble.
Everything should be fine.
Warden
I'm sure it will. Bon voyage,
gentlemen.
She offered them all a round of handshakes, then went back into the building.
Hydrogen Guy
A very nice woman. She reminds me of my
aunt... Everything in order, gents?
Deuterium Boy
Sure. Marlowe's ready to go. I've gone
over all the vehicles and fielded two calls from Captain Toronto about
potentially suspicious activity on the route.
Hydrogen Guy
Anything in it?
Deuterium Boy
Turned out to be a false alarm.
Parker
You ready to go, or you think your ego might not
fit in the van?
Hydrogen Guy
What's that supposed to mean?
Parker
Just a passing observation, Mr. Hero Prime.
Let's roll, boys.
They filed into the van, Hydrogen Guy giving Parker a bemused look while Deuterium Boy tried not to laugh. Marlowe had already made himself comfortable in the back, and was reading a thick novel in Russian. Parker took the driver's seat and Deuterium Boy the shotgun position. Hydrogen Guy drew the first round of Mutant Maker-sitting.
Hydrogen Guy
Hey, Marlowe. Hope they cut the beans and
broccoli from last night's grub, because it looks like we're riding
together.
Marlowe
Hydrogen Guy. How delightful. And here I
feared the journey might turn out to be pleasant.
Parker
You kids pipe down back there. All right. Did
everyone use the facilities? This is your last warning, gentlemen. I'm not
pulling this van over until Oakville, and I'm talking to you, Mr. Six Cups of
Tea with the Warden. Where's my beaded seat cover?... Deuterium Boy, pass me
that... I said pipe down, Mister, I don't care if he's on your side of the seat.
All right, we're heading out...
The van pulled out of the garage and headed down the same road the larger convoy had followed earlier. No one outside the prison walls paid it much attention.
Except for the watcher in the trees...
Big Joe Switchboard shifted awkwardly in his seat. These damn things were NOT built for waiting in comfort. That Galerkin character better be right about these things... damned if he was going to sit around in here for blankety-blank hours if it wasn't top-notch equipment that could get the job done...
His ear-piece buzzed. He activated the comm system with his jaw control, and listened to the terse report that came through. He acknowledged with one syllable and signed off, then opened a channel to his two team-mates.
"Okay ladies, that was our guy at the Soil. The van's on the way. ETA in forty-five."
"Acknowledged."
"Yay! Oh, I mean acknowledged."
He smirked. Pu had been pretty good about letting the fake convoy go past right under her nose. She deserved to have a little fun.
Well, in forty five minutes, she'd get it.
Highway 401, near Belleville... three hours after departure.
Hydrogen Guy
[singing]... Ninety-six tall
cappuccinos on the wall, ninety-six tall cappucinos! Take one down...
Parker
Okay, that's enough.
Hydrogen Guy
[singing] ... pass it around, ninety-five
tall cappuccinos on the wall! Ninety-five tall cappuccinos on the --
Parker
ENOUGH! I said, enough! Please!
Hydrogen Guy
Okay, okay... So what do you want
to sing?
Parker
I don't want to sing anything. No singing,
please.
Hydrogen Guy
Then do you mind if I put on the radio?
It's alt klezmer hour on the CBC.
Deuterium Boy
Don't let him, Parker. That show's chock
full of accordion.
Parker looked in the rear-view mirror. Marlowe continued rumbling peacefully in the back.
Parker
How can he sleep through this? Lucky
bastard...
Deuterium Boy
Hydrogen Guy, why don't you play a quiet
car game. Like... Shut-Up-Before-We-All-Kill-You. That's always fun.
Hydrogen Guy
Fine. Mock my joie de vivre. I'll just sit
here and sulk.
Parker
Thank the saints...
Traffic on the highway was relatively light. The weather was cold but clear, and the roads were clear of any ice and snow. Driving conditions were close to perfect.
They continued the journey in peaceful silence. Until...
Deuterium Boy
What's going on up ahead?
Parker
I see it.
Deuterium Boy
Why is everyone pulling over, jumping out
of their cars, and running away?
Parker
Might be the three war robots coming after
us.
Hydrogen Guy & Deuterium Boy
WHAT?!
Parker
Settle in, boys, I'm exceeding the speed
limit.
They spun in their seats. Parker was, unfortunately, not hallucinating - three mechanical monstrosities were indeed rocket-booting their way up fast behind them. The one in the middle was instantly recognizable --
Hydrogen Guy
Great Feynman's Ghost, it's Battle Cyborg
BAAAAHHH!!
Bob, he meant to say. Whether battle armour or cyborg body, the red bow-tie is a dead give-away.
While Hydrogen Guy was exclaiming, Bob had accelerated towards them, then lifted up and shot directly over-head. The van rocked severely. Then, there was an even harder jolt, and they felt the van being lifted up off the road.
Parker
Damn. Don't think I like this.
No. The other two battle mechs had followed Bob by about a second; however, instead of merely buzzing the van, one went left, the other right, and together they picked the van off the highway.
Then they started to rise.
Now that they were at rest with respect to the other two mechs, Hydrogen Guy was able to get a good look at them. They were of a much simpler design than Battle Cyborg Bob - in fact, they were little more than a large ball for the body, a smaller ball for the head, two round, stocky limbs, and thick prehensile arms. The heads were white and most of the rest of the bodies were black, except for certain spots... and blue ICBC logos stamped on the sides.
Hydrogen Guy
Pandas! It's Panda Battle
Armour!
While Hydrogen Guy admired the design of their captors, Deuterium Boy was more concerned about the lack of road underneath them.
Or rather, about the over-generous amount of air beneath them.
Deuterium Boy
AAAGH!!
Parker
I sure hope everyone's buckled up.
Marlowe
Zzzz.. *snrk* ... zzz...
One of the things Camus didn't mind so much about the Soil was his room. It was almost six times the size of the prison's usual room. It had to be large, to start with, for a "creature" his size. Not only that, but since forced immobility exasperated his medical condition, it had to be spacious enough for him to pace around in.
Which he did, almost continuously. He was convinced his horseshoes were starting to wear tracks into the floor, and he obtained a certain perverse satisfaction that the constant sound of hoof-steps must be driving every guard and prisoner in the cell block nuts.
Another plus to the room was that it had a fairly decent view. He could see the forest behind the prison, and from the right spot he could even catch a glimpse of the Great Lake. He'd arranged the utilitarian furniture he'd been assigned so that he could stand in that spot and look out.
He was standing there now, in one of the browner studies he'd been in since his incarceration. Marlowe was gone, and with him probably the best chance he had of alleviating his disastrous spine and, just possibly, finding out a little about how he got this way in the first place.
In this day and age, centaurs are made, not born. There isn't any field somewhere in Greece where others of his kind gamboled and fornicated, churning out centaur foals (or whelps or whatever they're supposed to be called). And if there were, they'd be better put together than he was. No, he had memories of a fully human life. A comfortable childhood. A stint at an ivy league school before a round of larceny got him expelled. A couple years in a tenement, selling drugs his room-mate cooked up in the bathtub, writing poetry and working on a rather earnest novel. Then... a blank. His next memory was of being like this, lost in the city, nowhere to go, running from something.
And then finding out that not only were people frightened of him, but he was strong enough to give them a better reason to be than his appearance.
And then, eventually, finding two others in a similar situation, who stories not unlike his own. Well, that had worked out all right for a while. Until their trip out west ran them up against Hydrogen Guy, Deuterium Boy, and NAFTAPOL.
And there was that American cop. What was his name... Kentaro would have known...
He was half lost in reminiscence when he heard a chirrup at the window. His eyes focused on the view again, and saw a face left over from his memory.
He later thought that he'd screamed, but all he really managed was a kind of strangled whinny before he fainted.
Next episode: An unexpected reunion! The Covalent Crusaders in peril! And extra special plot twists, just for you!
All in Part III of...
The Lobster and the Fat Man
Same
Hydrogen Time... Same Hydrogen Website!