I appear in the antechamber of the team's new base of operations, and take a moment to relax. Things… Things are going as well as they could…
I chuckle slightly for a moment.
Yes, you have a
lot to thank OL for next time you see him...
I can't even finish that thought.
But they could be going a great deal worse, and -to quote Dilbert- that's not nothing.
Indeed. I bet you're even getting a trickle of local charge these days. Assuming you
didn't snag a Lantern out there.
The Syndicate has almost completely moved to the arse ends of the world. The Answer is heading up Asian operations, their Byzantine political and economic systems suiting him perfectly. 'Al' -because apparently we're on fire name terms now- is having fun scaring the night soil out of the drug cartels of South America while the Director is stretching his tentacles out across Africa. This hotel is one of his, and the staff and guests are robots operating under his direction.
Nice to see Capo Scott - 'Power Ring Yellow' these days - keeping himself busy. Remind me, who is the Director again, and which hero is he a counterpart of?
"So?"
Most of the guests.
"Mister Quick, you know full well-."
Ah, our poor kid Flash counterpart. Still using that knock-off super-speed formula, I expect...
"We're all gunna get tole inna bit, ain't we?" He shrugs, and I note that despite the enforced inactivity he's barely jittering at all. Looks like the new formulation of the speed formula has ironed out that problem. "What's it ma'ahr?"
"Because it undermines Ultraboy. He's the team leader. I bring news to him, he decides how to share it with the team." I nod politely. "Excuse me."
I like that he maintains the fiction that he isn't in charge, so as to avoid being the target of reprisals... Very
clever...
I head towards-
"But we're gettin' out, roight?"
Later, Kid.
Later! Man, Baul must have the patience of a
saint to not toss him out a window or something...
-and knock politely on the door.
"Ultraboy?"
At least the addict is smart enough to clam up when he should...
He doesn't run, but I hear his heavy footfalls on the other side of the door immediately. His self control is pretty good, all things considered, but he's been feeling the enforced inactivity just as much as everyone else. He's looking… Okay. Though I personally think that the goatee is a terrible look for him, it does fulfil the recommendation that everyone alter their usual appearance while during the relocation. He's even abandoned the 'U' insignia he used to have on just about every piece of clothing he owned. No one familiar with his old appearance would look for a young man in a suit.
Probably a bit young for a full beard, and his hair would need to grow a bit to get any kind of disguise going
there. At least he learnt to cut out the sigil spam.
"You got something, Blue?"
He elocution training has been more miss than hit, but unlike many of our colleagues he is actually making an effort.
So he sounds less like a Brooklyn thug and more of a proper gangster? I suppose that makes Capo Scott consider him a little more fondly...
"Indeed I do. Would you please accompany me to the briefing room?"
"Sure, just… Give me a minute."
I nod. "Of course."
Now, I wonder
what he was doing that could take a minute or two to finish up?
Or should I say '
who'?
He heads back inside, closing the door after him, while I head towards the meeting room. I'm not sure whether the Director meant it as an insult or not, but the main meeting table was originally a replica of the one the old Management used to use. I had it taken out almost immediately, and replaced with a more collegial circle. I also added some soft seating off to the side for less formal one-to-one chats, and it's there that I head. And in deference to the preferences of my colleagues, I pull out a decanter and a couple of tumblers before sitting down.
Heh. I get the feeling of an old speakeasy bar from the twenties here, even if it's a more modern setup. It just feels...
Right.
How… To sell this.
Jon pushes the door open and does a quick scan of the door before coming inside and closing the door. He makes eye contact with me, and I hold up Zorina's anti-detection ward and do a quick scan to make sure. Nothing detected, so I give Jon a nod.
Definitely got
some power to burn these days.
He hesitates for a moment and then walks slowly over, eyes alighting on the glasses.
"Since when do you drink?"
"I don't. It's alcohol free; basically wheat juice. It's practically a health drink."
But people
thinking he's getting drunk probably helps put them at ease around him, I bet. One more bit of
sneakiness.
Jon frowns, a snort escaping his nostrils. "Fer real?"
"Eh… A few other chemicals. Nothing intoxicating, but it tastes just like the real thing."
A handy bit of ring-work, or just something he found out there in the world? I'm
sure there's all manner of non-alcoholic variants of popular drinks...
Edit: Okay, there definitely is in
our world. I wonder how true that is in Earth -14...
He sits down opposite, picking up his glass and sniffing it. "And no one figured it out?"
I shrug. "I changed it five months ago and no one's said anything." I pick up my glass and hold it out to him. He taps his own against it with a chink, then we each take a small sip. "Your health."
Good to see they're still friends here, even after everything that's happened. And the remarkable age difference.
He nods. "Makes me think of the first time we had a drink together. Guess that's a happier memory for me than you."
"I've found that life isn't quite so easily sorted into 'good' and 'bad' these days."
The first time being in the presence of Ultraman, just after Ultraboy's existence was revealed. Yes, I can
imagine those were happier times for him. Especially since Ultraman was a
lot more accepting than his heroic counterpart was.
"Guess I should be grateful about that." Jon puts his glass down and sits back. "What're our orders?"
I shake my head. "The Management don't-."
"Sure. 'Requests'."
Maintaining the appearance of gentility and class in the Society. Despite many of them being thugs, lunatics and
worse.
"It's an important distinction. They're recognising your independence and-."
"And that I gotta do what they say if I want the light t'stay on."
...That could be taken
so many ways.
Not many of them
good... Understandable, though, since the Society's juniors are at a significant power disadvantage with the New Leadership...
"You can look at it like that." I shrug. "You can do your own thing, or you can answer requests and receive the commensurate rewards."
"We did what you said to make the New Management happen. Not like I had any better ideas." I shrug. "Plan any good?"
I suspect a lot of Ultraboy's plans were 'go find someone to beat on till they did what he told them to'...
"I think it will achieve the Syndicate's medium term objectives. Whether it's the best thing to do or not…" I shrug again. "You remember our alter egos?"
"Yeah."
I would suspect so. Given how good a
fight they were...
"Their team is used by their mentors as a covert operations unit. Their United Nations imposes rules on the Justice League, and they use their apprentices to bypass them without anyone knowing. The Management want to do the reverse with the Young Offenders. While the Syndicate beds down in its new areas of operation, your team will carry out random acts of brigandage with the aim of drawing as much attention as possible." Jon frowns. "Luthor's sticking to the deal, but there are more excitable elements-"
So, they're playing bait and stalking horses for would-be heroes. Bit of a drop in status.
"The Justice Underground."
"-who will come after the Syndicate anyway, and the New Management want them led away from the more vulnerable areas of the business. And you've got plenty of vinegar in you, so I doubt that you'll complain if they catch up with you."
Still, I suppose it makes sense. I'm sure Ultraboy and his teammates have
lots of pent-up feelings to work out through
percussive therapy...
"Easy to sell it to the others. I'm guessing we can't go back to America."
"No, but you could attack US interests outside of the States. Just as long as you don't draw attention to other Syndicate assets."
And no doubt this US has
plenty of those. I'm sure he'll be
spoiled for choice.
He nods, looking at his drink for a moment. "Or what else?"
"What else?"
"You got some other idea." He looks up. "Don't you."
Baul always has ideas. But
before, he was stuck under the thumb of the Society...
"I… Do."
"So?"
"We do need a decoy, but we can get anyone to do that. There are a few of the less stable Made Men I wouldn't mind seeing the back of. But for you… How would you like to head up your own operation?"
Heh. Turning the Young Offenders into a truly
global force, perhaps.
"What's the catch?"
"You have to create one."
Well, no-one said becoming the next Ultraman would be
easy.
He frowns. "How?"
"The Syndicate has been moving into highly criminalised areas and inserting itself as the top level boss. My idea for the team is to go somewhere that has suffered a complete breakdown in law and order and creating order."
Effectively turning it into their own little fiefdom of crime...
A wry smile. "Like heroes."
"Like empire-builders. You saw how fast Slade threw every law he swore to uphold out of the window the moment he thought that's what he needed to do to win. Ultimately, that's what law is; what the strongest force in a society says will happen. Constitutions are just paper. If you conquer an area, if you enforce your will and bring stability, people will support you."
Indeed...
Especially in this world, which lives by the creed
Cui Bono - '
Who Profits?'
"Time fer me to make my own mark on the world?" I nod-shrug. "Interesting idea. Kinda assumed I'd get this talk from Pa."
"Yeah." I sigh. "That would be better. Or your grandpa, or grandma, or your Uncle Jimmy or Uncle Pete. But I'm what you've got."
Who are likely all dead or imprisoned, given Slade's
enthusiastic approach to cleaning up the country...
"Yeah. I guess you are."
He swirls his drink around in his glass.
"Where were you thinking we'd do this?"
What would be the worst hellhole in this world? The shittiest part that no-one would care if you conquered? Don't tell me, even
here, I'm sure it would be
Santa Prisca.
