"A Rose by Any Other Name"

Season 1, Episode 2

written by Thomas Fritzinger

 
Darius worked with methodical precision. The chemistry had to be precise. The wrong concentrations of psychotropic compounds would simply kill his subjects and it was so expensive that he dare not waste any. Chemistry was so hard to achieve when working with exotic flowers and roots anyway. Although his master would be able to create the same effect very easily without the mess, it was beyond Darius's power and he had to rely on more conventional means, if any part of mind control could be considered conventional to begin with.

His first batch worked, but had flaws. Although he had control over the insects, he couldn't get them to form any shape other than the one they knew, a very large sugar ant. He could also sense the hero's presence but couldn't "see" her. It made killing her very hard indeed, and, in fact, impossible in this case.

The promise was made. The prophecy was uttered. He was the agent of change and would usher in a new era, a new age without the stink of mankind. Best of all, the tools literally fell into his lap just as foreseen! It was fortune indeed, because he knew that the instant the heroes of Earth realized what he planned, he would face an army of them and he needed a powerful army to hold them off. His master foresaw it to be so.

The potion turned bright orange and glowed ever so slightly as he introduced the radioactive isotopes that would activate the compound. The potion would have to be much more powerful to affect the minds of the creatures he most needed right now. Insects were only the beginning.

His lips creased into a thin smile, but vaporized a moment later as the glow turned to a dull green and a thin wisp of smoke wafted up from the container. Another batch ruined. Darius set the vile down and started over again. It was only a matter of time now...

A few days later... 

Wyldecard was in the town's coffeehouse, enjoying the afternoon off. This small, Welsh town didn't have a Starbucks, so the local pub owner had gotten a wild hair and created a small coffee house reminiscent of the ones he had seen in his travels to France in his youth. It was a great success in the sleepy little town, especially with the occasional tourist that would happen by. Such was the case today, as a few such tourists were playing card games at a table near the entrance with one of the new locals.

The young hero was fond of card games and Texas Hold'em was his favorite. While in the coffee house, he had the fortune of meeting a real live Texan touring Europe and was having the time of his life playing a few rounds with him and a few other locals.

Of course, good ole' Tex was cleaning his clock, but it didn't matter. The fact that he could actually play with someone he didn't have to teach was making his day worthwhile. It would have been nothing for Wyldecard to use x-ray vision to help his odds, but he was learning from someone who obviously knew the game better than he did and didn't like cheaters all that much anyway. Instead, they were talking about football, and how the Minnesota Vikings just simply sucked wind this season.

The hand was close, the Flop came and Wyldecard looked it over. This was his best hand yet with 2 kings in his hand and 2 aces and a king showing on the table. He went all in. Tex smiled and joined him. As he reached out to flip the River card, a loud noise shook the building. Dust fell from the rafters and the small light suspended over the table went out. It was obviously an explosion of some sort and had come from close to the town square just a block away.

Wyldecard dashed outside to see what the commotion was about. There was a large hole in the center of town, a sinkhole to be precise. TKR computer banks indicated that this area was geologically stable and Wyldecard knew something unnatural was going on. There were also no gas mains in the area. Unlike the townsfolk that apparently had the sense to get out of harm's way, he approached the hole and peered over.

He threw his head up quickly, dodging a rather large stinger which shot out of the hole with incredible speed. He fell to the ground and scrambled back to his feet in time to see a gigantic form of what appeared to be a sand lion rise up from the earth. Its exterior appeared to shift as if made of sand and it was a full 20 feet tall. Two gigantic mandibles spread to either side of Wyldecard and clamped shut.

Of course, they never made contact. Wyldecard was much too quick and deftly dodged the attack. Darting underneath the gigantic insect, he pushed up on its underbelly, intent on giving it a one-way ticket out of the county. To his surprise, his hands simply moved into the mass and a multitude of tiny sand lions fell on his head.

The creature shook back and forth and one of its large limbs raked the ground under its belly, throwing Wyldecard into a dilapidated police box. The beast clamped down on the entire box, catching Wyldecard in a tight grip as the sides of the box collapsed. Caught by the waist, he found himself pinned. Wyldecard barely had time to get his hands down on the mandibles when he was lifted in the air. He attempted to push the creature's grip apart from him, but met with little success. The grip was tightening and he was running out of time. Who in the world would have thought that a bunch of bugs had such strength!

He couldn't take his hands off the crushing mandibles, but he had other weapons and turned his considerable gaze on the creature, razing it with a deadly barrage of heat vision blasts. Layer upon layer of the tiny insects creating this monstrosity broke off only to be replaced by more of the little creatures. They simply moved from the creature's midsection to the points at which they were destroyed.

He opened his mouth and let out a massive sonic boom, shattering the main display window of the shop behind him. All that did was cause the beast to begin flailing, ripping Wyldecard up and down, right and left. The stinger shot out and it was all he could do to telekinetically hold it in place so that it didn't impale him.

Just as he was beginning to lose his strength, a gunshot rang out. The beast froze for the briefest of seconds and then disintegrated into millions of individual insects in a large pile on the ground. Wyldecard was released and fell to the street, gasping for air and clutching his midsection.

Looking up, he saw Tex standing over the remains of the beast, a Colt 45 in his hand smoking from the barrel. "I knew those new hollow-points would come in handy someday."

"How did you do that with a single shot?" Wyldecard asked as he limped up to the tall man.

"I didn't tell you I was a Texas Ranger? Earned every sharpshooting badge available back in 'Nam and this little beastie had something sticking out of its head..." Reaching down, he pulled out the remains of a vial of fluid, now broken, with what appeared to be a mechanical time-release cap. Even now, the cap was attempting to squirt out small drops of the fluid left in the top of the vial.

Wyldecard borrowed a piece of wax paper from the coffee house owner and wrapped it up. The ant lions were dead, but he gathered some anyway. It was strange to see so many in one place and stranger still this time of the year.

"I'm not the hero here. You don't even have powers and you still stood up to this thing with nothing more than a 6-shooter."

"Call it what you will, a rose by any other name smells just as sweet and I saw what you did. I command 12 Rangers and I would trust each of them with my life. I see the same dedication to the job in your eyes and commend you for it. You have gifts and I'm glad you're using them for good. Keep up the good work, kiddo."

Turning to Tex, he pointed back to the table. "So, what did you have anyway?"

"Don't seem to matter much partner. You won the day for us," was the Texan's response as he handed over the money on the table. Wildecard took a peak with his

x-ray vision and saw Tex holding an ace and a king in his hand. He could only laugh to himself and thank Tex for the games.

Wyldecard shook his own head and then shook Tex' hand and took off for the keep, not sure what he would uncover.

Elsewhere...

Had anyone been around to hear it, laughter would have rung through the halls of the old military base had it been able to do so. Built in the Great War, many of the hallways were made of dirt and wooden planks. Many others were made of concrete that was cracked and chipped from the tremors caused by German bombs. The sounds of Darius' mirth were absorbed as quickly as he made them.

Looking down at the reflecting pool in front of him, he saw his creation clearly. Controlling it was much simpler now and he was about to taste first blood as the scrawny hero before him met his end.

He heard a gunshot and felt a sharp pain in his skull and the feed was lost. Taking off his neurumari, he tossed it aside and sat back in his chair. It was his best trial yet, even if he didn't kill the meddling hero. Honestly, he was simply attempting to cause some havoc in the town and a chance to do some real fighting was a bonus exercise he was thankful to have.

His project was working just as predicted and it was only a matter of time now before the world would know. A scrawny tabby cat sat at his side on the large chair. He reached down and stroked it lovingly. The cat purred as it arched its back, soaking up the attention.

Rising from his seat, he made his way to the back of the earthen chamber, where an ancient stone alter sat in a corner. The altar was adorned with strange carvings of mythological creatures. On the sides were reliefs of a hippocampus and a griffin, and on the front was a large carving of Cerberus, the three-headed dog which guards the gates of the underworld.

Kneeling before the shrine, he spoke, saying "preparations are nearly complete master. Very soon your army will be ready and we will be strong enough to take the gateway by force. Once we do, it will only be a matter of time before I can open it, paving the way for your return!"

There was no immediate response. It was ok. Darius knew he was not alone. Somewhere, elsewhere and else-when, on the mountain of Tartarus a deity was laughing...

Elsewhere still...

Laughter rang through the halls of the keep. Cassandra, dressed only in bed clothing, found herself in the dank hallway outside her room. The door to her room was locked and she couldn't get to her bed. If she could only get to her bed, she would be safe.

Halfway out of the shadows at the other end of the hallway stood a dark figure. He was wearing black, so in or out of the shadows he was hard to see. His eyes flared up a bright orange and she could not see his face.

"Who are you!" she demanded. 

No response. 

"I command you, show yourself!" Her voice sounded confident but inside she quivered. She had sensed him several times before. She took a tentative step closer. "I'll raise the alarm," she threatened.

The spirit remained silent.

Cassandra straightened up and summoned her courage. This one would need the ancient power. She centered herself ready to charge with her most powerful attack. She was ready to defend the keep.

The being stepped forward. It was dressed in long, tattered black robes which seemed to flow back and forth with an unfelt breeze.

Although the face was still hidden in the deep recesses of the intruder’s cowl, Cassandra recognized him instantly. Her training from so many eons made her bow down before this one. "Why are you here? Is it my time? Am I allowed finally to leave? Am I mortal again?" she asked respectfully.

Through the dead hollows of his robes, Charon, ferryman of the dead, pointed directly at her chest. Though no one else could hear his voice, she heard one drawn-out word, "Choooose".

"Choose what?" Cassandra was screaming and crying at the same time. "It's the same message now for a week!" She awoke with a start, realizing that she was in the hallway outside her room sleepwalking. Or was she?

Caledonia came out of her own room, hearing Cassandra's voice again, and put a blanket around her friend’s shoulders. This wasn’t the first time Caledonia had been brought out of a deep sleep by the turbulent dreams Cassandra had been experiencing. Owing to her telepathic ablilities, Caledonia didn’t have to ask any questions. She already knew what her friend was going through and stood ready to help Cassandra in any way she could... even if that meant losing sleep and drinking hot chocolate while they tried to make sense of Cassandra’s dreams.

They made their way to the kitchen, where they found Quan praying the third decade of the Divine Mercy. They waited for Quan to finish, then the three spent the next few hours sharing hot chocolate and talking about the stuff of dreams, life and death.

To be continued...