E8: Flash #1

[Spider-Man Beyond]

E8: Flash #1
Lightning Under a Tree! Part 1

Written by Jollyoldsaint
Edited by Daniel Dyer

The year was 2643. The White House had been overtaken by thirty gold-plated machinations. Each one moved at a rate of 310 meters per second. Their equally paced processors allowed for the precision to completely avoid casualties during the siege. Their creator had good cause to confidently stroll through the White House as the machine men neutralized its defenses. In minutes the inventor came face to face with the only other man left conscious in the building.

“Go to Hell,” the President ordered. “This is high treason. Assault. A bunch of other crap I’ve got people who could list.”

His shady assailant grinned. “My apologies, Mister President, but your secret service... or whatever ridiculous acronym they go by... did try to kill me and take my research. My hand was all but forced.”

“I had nothing to do with that.”

This triggered a sneer. “You gave the order when you learned I was bargaining with higher bidders than the US of A. Remember?”

“How... who told you that?”

“One of the greener recruits from the base you’ve been signaling. By the way, your cavalry’s dead. The metahumans are still on that moon base... you may as well stop thinking you’re stalling me.”

The President flinched. “Who are you? They told me you were some bookworm, an easy target.”

At this the intruder’s grin widened. “I’ve been a lot of things to a lot of people. As of late I’ve been trying to hide it... but as long as the world spins I’m destined to stay on top.”

“Go to Hell,” the President ordered.

“I’ll pass,” replied Roscoe Dillon. “It’s a beautiful place, but this Earth is so much more entertaining. More twists, you see... ah, but I’m wasting these puns on you. Tell Neron he’s an ignoramus, would you?”

“Who?”

“You’ll know when you meet him. I can see you’re a resilient man, probably one who’d turn on me or just keep telling me to go to Hell. I could twist your nerves and fix that... as I will do for these wonderfully incompetent guards... but I don’t really like you. So I’m going to find your next in line... speed drone MB 120! Execute program 52 with a fifteen second delay. Mr. President, now would be the time for any last words.”

“Go to Hell,” the President ordered.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

One year had passed since the death of President “Fightin’” Wade August. The man accused of his murder, the Flash, was labeled a terrorist and traitor to his country. Moments thereafter a burning trail spanned from Central City, Missouri, to the Canadian border. At a distance the looping trail spelled the very same last words used by President August. Only one man left in the world could have noticed.

Traffic problems from his fiery farewell did not improve public relations with the Flash. A sweeping sentiment of fear greatly aided a proposal to mass-produce and deputize “Speed Metal” units. This resulted in over half of US police enforcement being replaced by remotely controlled drones. As the machines were improved on the need for human guidance was even being put to question.

Central City was chosen for various reasons as a test site for the machines’ “Judge, Jury, Executioner” chip. The function of the chip was reflected in its name; criminals would be dealt with in an ideal manner without human bias. Hundreds of laws and trillions of scenarios were compacted into the intelligence of each drone with the chip implanted. If the chip proved effective courts and human judgment would be proven inefficient as crime deterrents. With such advancements in AI the drones seemed to only require one thing; a supervisor should they ever turn rogue.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

John Fox had never wanted anything more than a cushy government job and a tolerable family. He believed it to be the happiest day of his life when he achieved his first objective at the Central City Time Museum. His job could not have been simpler; watching robot guards and pressing a de-activation key if he saw signs of malfunction. His reaction time seemed the only qualification Fox even needed for the post. And given what little action he had seen over three months, Fox was beginning to doubt that his hand-eye coordination would be put to use. This was half of his ideal scenario. So why, Fox wondered, did he have the foreboding sensation that his increasingly perfect lifestyle would be ruined at any moment?

Four hours and three minutes after John’s worrying had ceased, a loud CRACK forced him from his surveillance chair. Camera feed had ceased transmission from one of the halls. Rousted from his half-conscious state, Fox initiated a slew of curses which would go on for several minutes.

“Stupid Machine,” Fox muttered. “Billions on drone maintenance, wouldn’t kill the jerks to fix up their other toys... or at least let me boss around ONE of those speed things... ‘Potential threat’ my genetically enhanced eye! Jerks just want to make us flesh-and-blood types work hard and suffer...”

Following protocol, the tired and disgruntled John Fox made his way to the newly created hole in the museum grid. He expected to find nothing, return to his desk, and report the camera glitch to technical support. This would have been his most active duty in weeks. And Fox would have followed through on this course of action if not for the green-skinned youth dismantling a camera in the next hall.

John cleared his throat loudly. The young man did not respond. “Ugh. Perfect... I mean. Who are you, kid, what are you doing, and how in the number 5 did you not trigger the alarms?”

At this, the boy turned. “...oh. So you’re here. I was beginning to doubt you’d... heh, suppose I should know better. And I suppose this is the end for me... well, since I have time, I’ll tell you a story. Heh... time...”

With a smirk, John halfheartedly uttered, “Sure, why not? What are you, ten? This’ll be good. Wait, how did you get in-”

The boy cut him short. “This place contains hundreds of objects lifted from the bodies of time travelers. Why do you think they’re kept in a museum and not stored in some hidden area for military use?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Fox answered between yawns. “Tags say they were from wacky gimmick-using villainous scum. So how did you get in here?”

“Someone who passes a manufactured rift in time will become immune to the effects of history. A man could change the fate of the world, make it so that he was never born... and yet he’d still exist. The same rules apply for animals, objects. Robots. With the infinite possibilities of infinite Earths, even I can’t imagine how time travelers haven’t overcrowded the planet. Each shift in reality caused by time travel will create a new set of people to create more shifts... so how is it possible that reality has any stability? That the world isn’t filled to the rim with people who came from their own version of Earth? Centuries of study wouldn’t provide any answers to these questions. Once this became clear there was no use for the items around us. The best course of action was to hide them in plain sight. Affordable guards and occasional hero support... best of all, it’s funded by tourists.”

“That’s fascinating. Really. But what kind of story,” John asked, “starts with an explanation about how wacky time travel is? And how did you get past the alarms?”

“Braniac G is here,” said a voice from behind, “because I disabled the drones, tripwires, and locks. I also taped photos on some of the cameras. I wanted your attention, but I certainly couldn’t have you raising an alarm.”

Fox turned around to see a man in tight-fitting blue spandex. Oddly, John thought, the outfit seemed fashionable.

“I’m sorry,” said the man, “but an explanation could compromise the mission. To get things back on track I have to beat you unconscious, drag you a few rooms over, and let that weather converter I stole do its magic.”

“What the...? Oh. Great,” John sighed. “Let me guess... with what the kid’s been spouting, you’re some kinda time guy, aren’t you?”

Three seconds later John Fox was unconscious in an exhibit two halls away.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

“Braniac G!” the spandex-wearing man barked. “You were about to tell him about the Linear Men, weren’t you?!”

The green-skinned boy frowned. “Yeah. I was. Why’d you stop me? ‘Compromise the mission’? That’s a load of...”

“Trust me. You don’t know him like I do. I told you he was the stuff of legends - I forgot to mention that was after he’d been shoved the right way a dozen times.”

Braniac G groaned. “Why not use someone else, then? The Flash of this era took out a hundred of these gold fakers at once. Mailed their scraps to the White House just to prove a point. And you expect me to buy that clown’s got a better chance of saving the world?”

“Trust me,” said the man in blue. “I know what I’m doing. I only needed you to bring him out and keep him still for a minute.”

A white symbol appeared on Braniac G’s forehead. “While you stole the weather matrix, I know. Which you also need me to use. Just remember that I only agreed to help because this body’s given me a death wish. In the old days I could’ve just moved my brain, but some schmoe part of me wanted to go organic... gah! How do you live with all these bodily functions?!”

The man shrugged. “That’s a question I ask myself every day. Well, wish me luck,” he said before blinking out of sight.

“...you’ll need it,” muttered Braniac G.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

John Fox looked around him to see a field of singing flowers. “This can’t be right,” he thought. “I KNOW those things stopped growing after the greenpeace slaughter of 2348...”

“Wake up,” the flowers began to repeat. Their eerily childlike voices put Fox on edge. Wake up? What in the letter G could that have meant?

“We love love,” flowers sang. “You wake up.”

The ground began to shake. A split in the earth was spreading towards John. He still could not remember how to stand. Unsure of what else to do, Fox incoherently cursed at whatever gods were paying attention to him. While falling into the pit he also incoherently cursed at the ones not paying attention to him.

A black void surrounded Fox. He still heard the unnerving voices of children. “Wake up,” they cried.

“Leave me alone,” Fox whined.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

“Wake up,” said the man in blue spandex. “Hells. I overdid it, didn’t I? Wake up, you stupid unwitting would-be messiah!”

Fox showed no signs of stirring.

The man in blue kicked him again. “It was just a few dozen punches. Wait,” he said with a grin, “I know...”

The man whispered something into Fox’s ear. After several reflexive swings, Fox awoke.

“Relax,” the man said. “I didn’t really set them on fire.”

“YOU LETTER P WELL BETTER NOT HAVE!”

“That reminds me... Where you’re about to go, they don’t swear like that.”

“What,” John asked, “in the number eight do you mean by that?”

“Some time ago people came up with a non-threatening code of letters and numbers to replace actual cursing. You’re about to go to the early 21st century... It’s better if you drop the habit now.”

John noticed one of his legs was tied to something labeled a “cosmic sofa.” He also noticed what looked like a novelty Flash ring on his hand.

“I’m sorry,” said the man in blue. “But I had no choice. Do the right thing, John. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Wait,” John started.

“I’m sorry,” the man repeated. He pressed his hand over his ear. “Braniac, start it. Ship, take me home. The code is BMLWAMMJ. They call me Walker Gabriel. My name is Chronos.”

The man in blue disappeared in a bright flash of light. Stunned by the impressive exit, it took Fox a moment to note the dark clouds forming over his head. Knowing that should not happen inside of a building, Fox began to panic.

After realizing that panic would solve nothing, Fox talked to himself. “Okay,” he said, “Time guy beats me up and ties me to a cosmic sofa. Says I’m gonna go to the past... and a storm cloud starts forming indoors. Right over the cosmic sofa. Time guy also put a lightning ring on me... Oh, I’ll bet that number six just thinks that’s hilarious...”

Thunder crackled as Fox considered untying his leg. Knowing that he could not undo the knots in time, Fox accepted that in moments he would be dead or in the distant past. He looked at the cloud and expected the former. However, Fox thought, if a camera was still active...

Lightning struck John Fox as the words “I DESERVED A RAISE!” echoed throughout the museum.

To be continued....