Part 6 – Nanowrimo Freedom Squad
Chapter 6
Protector sat back and watched the monitors in Freedom Squad Headquarters, his shield leaning against the console. He tried to stay focused and keep a constant check on the graphs and displays that would alert him to the city’s emergencies. Currently, the city was quiet other than a few fender benders suffered by commuters. It disturbed him. Over a dozen super-villains had escaped Megalopolis Penitentiary, and yet, none of them had made an appearance.
The phone rang. It was the mayor’s office.
“Freedom Squad Headquarters,” said Protector.
“Protector,” said the mayor, “where is Rigel?”
“Uh… sir, she went to New York.”
“What is she doing in New York? I need her here in Megalopolis. Did she miss the fact that we had a prison break? I’ll have words with her later. Put Nightstar on.”
Protector cleared his throat. “Um… she took Nightstar with her, sir, to visit Psionicist in the hospital I believe. Ion’s here with me though. And we have Rockslide of course. Oh, and then there’s Starlight.”
“She took Nightstar to see Psionicist in the hospital,” restated the mayor, “Fantastic. There’s four of you. Well, if she’s not there, and Nightstar’s not there, who do you think I should speak with?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I guess that would be me, sir.”
The mayor sighed. “Good job of guessing. Listen, Protector, I’m going to have a press conference with the police commissioner in half an hour at Freedom Park, in front of the statues of the original Freedom Squad, the World War II team.”
“Yes,sir,” said Protector, knowing full well where the statues were and that the original Freedom Squad had fought in World War II.
“I need you there to stand behind me and look impressive. Make sure the shield is shining. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Do you want me to bring Ion or Rockslide?”
“No, someone’s got to watch the base, and I doubt Ion would cause any harm checking the monitors. In the future, you let Rigel know that I want to know if she’s leaving the city.”
The monitors suddenly flashed red. Protector felt the ground shake.
“What was that?” yelled the mayor. “An earthquake?”
The ground shook again.
“Sir, I need to go. We have a situation.” Without waiting for a response, Protector hung up the phone and grabbed his shield.
Ion was already beside him. “Hey, Alex, did you feel that? I think it was seismic.”
“Possibly,” Protector grabbed his communicator. “Rockslide, head to the Freedom Van.”
“The van?” asked Ion. “How about the Freedom Cycles?”
“Rockslide won’t fit on a cycle.”
Starlight walked in. “I have been monitoring the television as per Rigel’s request. There are super-villains smashing the statues in Freedom Park.” Starlight glanced up at the monitors. “It seems that the alerts in this room are validating those reports.”
The large monitor screen showed a man a white and red costume with a mask and a cape lifting the thirty foot high statue of American Eagle over his head and then throwing it hundreds of yards through the air into the park. A moment later, they thought they felt a faint tremor.
“We need to go now,” said Protector.
“I’ll have it running when you arrive,” said Ion, disappearing with a blur.
Protector activated his communicator. “Protector to Rigel…”
A modulated voice spoke back to him. “Communications software test started. All communicators will be offline for the next hour or until server reboot is completed.”
“What?” he said, staring incredulously at the communicator. Still, there was not time to worry about it. He ran as fast as he could to the underground garage, nearly vaulting the stairs. The van doors were open and he could see Rockslide in the back and Ion at the wheel.
Protector leapt into the passenger seat and heard the back door close.
“I am ready to assist,” said Starlight from the back. He had entered the back door as Protector had gotten in the front.
“Is he supposed to come?” asked Ion, looking to Protector for an answer.
Alex steeled himself. He was the Protector. He was in charge. “Yes. Starlight’s coming. Let’s go.”
Ion drove the van through the underground garage out to the rear exit outside of Freedom Squad Headquarters. “I’m activating the siren.”
The siren blared out as they pulled onto the road. Cars and buses moved to clear the way for the van.
“I could get used to this,” said Ion, as a taxi pulled out of his way.
The tires squealed as Ion made a hard right toward the park and then slammed on the brakes. “Oh…”
Protector held up his hand.
“Right,” said Ion, “We’re superheroes. No saying bad words. Still, troubling traffic, Protector, no one’s getting out of the way. Golly gee, now what?”
The traffic had completely stopped in front of them. Horns blared, but no one was moving. The man in the car in front of them got out and shrugged apologetically.
“I understand what Ion is saying,” said Starlight. “May I attempt to respond in the proper Terran vernacular?”
“Sure,” said Protector. Alex wasn’t sure what they should do. Get out and walk? He wished Rigel were here.
“Now, now, Ion, old chum, there’s no need to get vexed about the good citizens of Megalopolis having trouble with their commute, after all, they need to be able to get back and forth from their jobs so they can put food on the table,” said Starlight in his flat voice. “No, I have a plan for exactly this situation, and it doesn’t even require a utility belt.”
With that, Starlight opened the door of the van and stepped out, closing it behind him.
Protector looked over at Ion, who was laughing. “Where did that come from?”
“Oh,” said Ion, “Starlight told me he wanted to watch television. I put on some old Adam West and Burt Ward superhero shows. However, you know, a utility belt is a good idea.”
Suddenly, the van rose in the air and went soaring over the stopped cars in the direction of the park.
“I think he’s carrying us,” said Protector.
“I think you’re right,” said Ion, nervously. “I’m turning off the siren and the light. We don’t need to be but so obvious. Any idea on how many villains we’re facing?”
Rockslide rumbled in the back.
“Defiance for certain,” said Protector.
“Right. He’s invulnerable, you know. I had a poster of him up in my room as a kid. He stopped a meteor once,” said Ion, “when he was a hero.”
“No, he didn’t,” said Protector. “Let’s not make this any worse than it has to be.”
“So,” said Ion as the green grassy park filled the windshield, marked with several discarded bronze statues. “I count 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… plus Defiance, and look at all those cops. Okay, what’s the plan?”
“I’m going to talk to Defiance,” said Protector.
“What?” said Ion. “Alex, I mean Protector, are you crazy?”
“He used to be a hero.”
“Okay, and he was defeated by the guy who used to be the Protector. I mean, what about the other villains? They weren’t heroes.” Ion gestured. “Oh and…” He rolled down his window. “Um, Starlight, old chum, I think you should put us down before the bad guys shoot us out of the sky.”
The van suddenly dropped before coming to a gentle rest on the grass. They were close enough that Protector could make out Death Queen in her barely-there black costume, displaying her pale white skin to the world, floating over the massive broken head of the Light of Liberty statue. Barrage was hovering over the scene in her bronze power armor, massive guns visible on the arms of her suit. He wondered how they all managed to get costumes so quickly after they escaped. Defiance seemed to be yelling at the police. He also recognized the massive magical creation called Golem, towering at 12 feet tall over the others, as if he were one of the fallen statues come to life. A few figures shambled near Death Queen, and Protector assumed that they had to be some of her zombies.
This was going to be tough.
“Hang on,” said Ion. “I’m calling backup.” He pulled his personal cell phone out of his belt.
“Who?” asked Protector, “Wildside, Inc.? I don’t think we can afford them. Rigel doesn’t have her cell on her when she’s in costume, just her communicator.”
Protector looked down. The communicator screen said “Software test in progress.”
“Hi,” said Ion with a big smile, “it’s Ion. Remember when I asked for your number in case of an emergency. Well, Solaria, Freedom Squad needs backup at the park. It’s going to be rough. Get here fast… oh, Snowfall? Sure, bring him too. See you soon.”
Protector was going to say something about the protocol of getting the personal number of someone who was trying out for the team, but this wasn’t the time. Defiance had seen them.
“Out of the van, now!” ordered Protector.
Ion and Rockslide didn’t question him, and Protector dove to the side, just as Defiance crashed into the van, knocking it across the park into a large tree. Defiance floated over them, his red cape billowing back behind him. “Freedom Squad,” he spat.
“Ion, Rockslide, go deal with the others. I’ll handle Defiance.” Protector raised his shield.
Electricity crackled around Ion’s fists. “Yeah, Protector, that’s a great idea. How about we stay here and take advantage of our local numbers instead?”
Rockslide slammed a granite fist into his hand in agreement with Ion.
“Fine,” said Protector.
Suddenly, Starlight floated down beside Defiance, his own black cape billowing in the breeze. “Excuse me, but do you have car insurance? If you do not, I will inform you that in fifteen minutes, your insurance could be compared…”
Defiance punched Starlight in the chest hard enough that Protector felt the shockwave. The alien flew backward dozens of yards until he finally crashed into the ground, spraying dirt into the air.
“Where is the mayor?” he demanded.
“Defiance,” said Protector, stepping forward. “I’m the Protector, and I’m asking you to surrender.”
Defiance landed in front of Protector. “I knew the Protector, and you are not worthy to hold that shield.”
With that, Defiance pulled back his fist and struck the Shield of Justice. A ringing noise filled the park, but Protector held his ground.
Ion unleashed a blast of electricity. Sparks flew over Defiance’s body, but they seemed to have no effect.
Rockslide made a scraping, grinding noise and threw himself into Defiance. The former hero fell backward, buried by the earth elemental. Rockslide reformed and smashed Defiance over and over. For a moment, Protector thought that Defiance might be defeated.
Then, Rockslide went flying straight up into the air.
Protector held his shield more tightly. “Ion, try to distract the other villains. Run around them. Make something up, but I’m going to try to convince Defiance to help us.”
“That’s a terrible plan,” Ion said, looking at Barrage, Death Queen, the zombies and the massive Golem, “although, only Barrage looks fast. I’ll do my best.”
Defiance pulled off his mask and wiped dirt from his face. He looked angry. “Do you know who you serve? Do you know who is pulling your strings? Did it ever occur to you that there is a reason that your team was assembled?”
“I know why my team was assembled. We are going to protect the citizens of Megalopolis.”
“No!” said Defiance, smashing the shield again. A feeling of déjà vu came over Protector. He wondered if Defiance might get tired like Uberdude had.
As the former hero continued to swing, Protector somehow found a way to block each blow with his shield. He wasn’t sure that Defiance would tire. The power behind each of the blows was staggering. The Shield of Justice dispersed such impacts, but Protector still felt the shock of each of these punches pass through him. Though the shield was obviously protecting him, it seemed to have reached its limit.
“You aren’t worthy to hold that shield,” shouted Defiance. “You were put up to this, weren’t you? It’s all part of his plans. You are a fraud.”
Alex tried not to listen and think about what he could do in between impacts. Defiance was a brawler with exceptional speed and power, but he wasn’t a martial artist.
Protector turned his shield as he was hammered with yet another blow, and he managed to throw his powerful foe off-balance. Protector risked a quick leg sweep, and Defiance fell even if only for a moment.
“We don’t have to do this,” said Protector. “Listen, I don’t know what you are talking about, but if we could discuss it perhaps I could help.”
Defiance responded by rising in the air and hurling himself at Protector, who somehow managed to dodge the attack. Defiance stopped in the air and turned back to his opponent.
“You can’t keep this up. You can’t win,” said Defiance.
Alex checked his grip on the shield. Defiance was right. Alex couldn’t keep this up, but he was going to try.
“I’m going to keep this up,” Alex said. “I have to. I’m the Protector.”
Defiance roared at him.
Part 5 – Nanowrimo Freedom Squad
Chapter 5
The next morning, Rigel was in the Monitor Room reviewing as many files as she could. Starlight stood quietly behind her, observing.
“May I be of assistance in some manner?” he asked.
“Do you know anything about magic or the Death Queen?”
“Yes, the Death Queen is the code name used by the super-villainess Monica Black, a reputed necromancer with the ability to animate and control the dead. Most notably, she was involved in yesterday’s prison break when a guard suffered a heart attack in the vicinity of her cell. Before a medical response team could reach him, she is believed to have used magic to reanimate him. As for the nature of magic, I believe that it involves quantum and extra-dimensional events which remain inexplicable to your species. Quantum fluxes do cause issues with my systems however.”
“Not bad, Starlight. You already seem to be better than your predecessor. Death Queen made sure that a powerful villain known as Golem broke free, and then, she released Defiance. Once he was free, everything went crazy.”
“I am aware,” he said coldly, or rather flatly. There was no emotion in his voice. He was rather like some Hollywood robot.
“Well done, Starlight.”
“Thank you, Rigel. Would you prefer for me to call you Cori in the base?”
Cori looked over at him, seeing that strange mask and feeling strange inside. It was more than the featureless mask that bothered her. It was his thoughts. She couldn’t read them. He was something unknown, something that she couldn’t explain. He wasn’t human.
“Am I bothering you, Rigel?” he asked in his flat tones.
She wasn’t even sure how Starlight talked.
“How familiar are you with human behavior?” she asked.
“I require more data,” Starlight said.
“You might want to watch some television, and you probably should call me Rigel.“
“Excellent suggestion. Thank you, Rigel. How is your query proceeding?” he asked.
“I’m not finding anything significant on Psionicist.” She sighed. Dossiers on Psionicist showed on multiple screens. No family, no identity, no information on his powers except for media reports and nothing to help her. Even HeroNet had nothing of value, and they always had information on heroes.
“Nothing,” she repeated.
“That in itself may be a worthwhile observation. I will now watch some television.”
Cori paused and considered Starlight’s statement. She looked back over Psionicist’s information. There was nothing significant, but he was currently in a coma in a hospital in New York. He might not be conscious, but perhaps she could reach him.
She picked up her communicator, even as she looked over some information on the jailbreak. “Protector? Are you available for monitor duty?”
“Yes, Rigel, of course, but what are we doing about the tryouts?”
“Oh, they are delayed for a day or two. We need to track down some of these villains who escaped. Listen, I’d like you on monitor duty if you don’t mind. I trust you, and I think you’d be a good choice to watch and coordinate everything. I have some investigating to do.”
“You shouldn’t go alone.”
“True. I’ll take Nightstar with me,” she said.
Less than an hour later, she and Nightstar had flown from Megalopolis to New York via Freedom Flyer and were answering questions from hospital security.
Nightstar adjusted his mirrorshades as they exited the Freedom Flyer into a bright New York City morning. “So, let me get this straight one last time, you got flight authority into New York pushed through because you think that Psionicist can give us some insight into capturing Defiance.”
“That’s right,” she said, trying not to look amused.
Hospital security approached.
“Look, I think I know what you are going to do, Cori, and I’m not sure about it,” Nightstar whispered.
She looked at him, feeling strangely close to him, and noticing those shoulders of his beneath his black bodysuit. “Please trust me,” she whispered back.
He nodded and looked over at the hospital security personnel in their dark blue uniforms.
“G’day,” said Rigel, stepping forward and extending her gloved hand. “We’re from Freedom Squad.”
“Why do you wish to see Psionicist?” asked the man in front, who seemed to be the head of security.
“Defiance, the man who put him into this hospital, escaped yesterday,” said Rigel.
The man cleared his throat and looked over at Nightstar for validation.
“Yes,” said Nightstar shuffling with slight discomfort, “like Rigel, the team leader of Freedom Squad, the new one in Megalopolis, just said, it has to do with Defiance. The exact reasoning is classified.”
“Understood, Nightstar, sir,” the man said.
Cori rolled her eyes. “Thank you for clarifying my statement, Nightstar.”
The hospital seemed like any other hospital, other than the extra security guards and a number of cameras. Rigel couldn’t help but notice the number of cameras. “This would be perfect for someone like an Ace of Spades.”
The smell of rubbing alcohol and cleaning supplies filled the air. Loudspeakers made announcements and nurses quietly discussed their charges. As Rigel and Nightstar walked through the halls behind the head of security, conversations stopped and everyone grew quiet.
“Hello, everyone,” said Nightstar, “Don’t mind us, we are just here to pay our respects to a fallen hero.”
Cori hoped that no one would ask Nightstar for his autograph.
The guards in front of Psionicist’s door checked their badges. Fingerprints and retina scans were checked before they were allowed to enter.
A thin pale man lay in a hospital bed hooked up to monitors with a feeding tube. There was a nurse in the room, a man who looked like a backup linebacker for the New York Giants. “Nightstar?” he said. “It’s an honor.”
The nurse came over, “I’m Gabe Lincoln. My kids won’t believe this.” He offered his hand, and Nightstar took it.
“Good to meet you,” said Nightstar. “How’s Psionicist?”
Gabe shrugged and looked over at the man in the bed. He went over and adjusted the sheet. “He doesn’t change. You know that they don’t even know who he is.”
Rigel swallowed. “I know.”
“Yeah,” said Gabe, “This has to do with Defiance escaping, doesn’t it? He did this to Psionicist.”
“Mr. Lincoln, could we have some time alone with Psionicist?”
“Sorry, I stay, short of getting an order from the President. It’s for medical reasons.”
Rigel nodded. “I’m going to try and help him.”
Gabe Lincoln raised his right eyebrow. “What? Are you some kind of mutant healer?”
“No,” answered Rigel, “I’m a telepath. I’m going to try and talk to him. He has mental powers, like me. I can’t imagine being like that. And if he can help me apprehend Defiance, then all the better.”
“Whoa,” said Gabe. “I’m not sure.”
Nightstar stepped over to the foot of the bed, with Rigel on one side and Gabe on the other. “Watch his monitors. This is the best hope he has. Trust me. She saved me with her telepathy one time.”
Gabe paused, but there was something about Nightstar that convinced him. “Ma’am?”
“Yes?” said Rigel.
“Good luck.”
She smiled. “You just make sure that I don’t hurt him.”
Rigel closed her eyes and reached out with her thoughts. She could “see” the room without her eyes, from the glowing mind of Gabe Lincoln, to the bright shining light of Nightstar shrouded by faint wisps of the darkness imprisoned inside him, to the faint glow of the man lying on the bed.
She felt as if she flew into Psionicist’s soul.
His mind was shattered. She envisioned it as a ruined city, dark and twisted beams of metal stretching for her, broken glass scattered over shattered pavement and everywhere, dark smoke rising into the air. She flew through the ruins, searching for light and truth, trying to find him.
“Psionicist, my name is Rigel. I’ve come to help you. Are you here?” she thought.
She heard a faint weeping sound. She willed herself to fly toward the sound, uncertain of what she might discover – a shattered and incomplete individual, a fragment of a dream, a subconscious remnant of his youth? Whatever it was, she hoped that she could help him.
She saw him, sitting at an intersection, huddled in a woven blanket. She landed in front of him.
“Psionicist?”
“No,” the man cried, “no, no, no, no, never.”
He looked up at her with wide eyes. He was a thin man, Hispanic perhaps, in his early forties. Although she could understand his thoughts, she knew that they weren’t in English. He was angry and scared.
“Who are you?” she asked, not coming too close to him.
“Carlos Jorge Hernandez Ruiz.”
She knelt down within arm’s length of him. “What do you know about Psionicist?”
“He is a nightmare that I have, a nightmare that I can’t escape. He took over my life.” He reached out toward her with shaking hands. “Are you real? Can you take me home?”
She took his hand. “You’ve been hurt. Please tell me what you know about Psionicist.”
“I was trapped here. He controlled me. He spoke with my body. He saw with my eyes. He is there.”
Carlos pointed to a dark smoke-filled alley next to what appeared to be a burned church.
“He is there!”
Rigel put a hand on his shoulder. As reassuringly as she could, she said, “I’ll go over there. I’ll find him.”
“Are you an angel?”
“No,” she said, “I’m a superhero.”
She stood up and walked over to the alley. Something about it frightened her. Her stomach twisted, and she felt her pulse beat in her neck. She took a few yoga breaths to calm herself, breathing in through the nose and out through the nose. She reminded herself that nothing she saw was real, just telepathic images. While Carlos might be afraid, she had no need to worry.
She stepped into the alley. “I’m Rigel of Freedom Squad,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “Come out.”
A strange sound echoed in the alley. It was a sound she didn’t recognize, a sound like a fan, but lighter and sharper, like pages in a book being turned slowly.
“I am Psionicist,” came a voice.
Rigel folded her arms across her chest and tapped her right foot. “No, I don’t think so. Prove it.” She reached out as best she could with her telepathy, trying to look beyond the scene that she found herself in, trying to look deeper.
“There’s a letter for you. Not for Carlos, but for you,” said the voice.
A sudden chill came over her, and she shuddered involuntarily. An envelope rested at her feet. She bent down to pick it up, and as she did, the sound became louder. She ripped it open and reached inside.
Everything around her had a dreamlike quality to it. She had entered a dark smoke-filled alley, but there was light and no smoke. She drew the contents of the envelope out with two fingers. It was a playing card.
The Ace of Spades.
“Now, we are going to find out how powerful of a telepath you really are,” said the voice, and this time, it came from inside her head.
“The Ace of Spades doesn’t exist,” she said.
“You don’t believe that,” the voice replied, “you know I exist. That’s why you are here.”
“Carlos isn’t Psionicist. You set him up. You set up Defiance.”
The entire world was spinning around her. Shapes were losing their form. It was as if she were caught in the eye of a tornado, complete with howling winds. She felt as if she were being swept away from Kansas, and somehow, she knew that what was happening was far worse than that.
She was being swept away from her own mind.
“It doesn’t matter,” replied the voice, the voice that she knew came from the Ace of Spades, “because you are staying here with Carlos. I left a little surprise for lesser minds that might meddle. This, I’m afraid, is a trap built for someone like you. You made a psychic connection, and those work both ways.”
Rigel felt her heart pounding. “There’s one mistake you’ve made, Ace or whatever little mental construct that the Ace left for me.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m part of a team,” she said. With every fiber of her being, she thought, “Nightstar!”
However, she didn’t know if Nightstar could hear her. There was someone closer. “Carlos!” she shouted. “Help me fight your enemy. I’ve found him. Carlos, if you can, he’s here.”
“No, he can’t be defeated,” replied Carlos.
“Yes, he can! Carlos, I need you to try,” shouted Rigel. “Nightstar! I need you!”
She hoped that Nightstar could strike her with his psychic blade, knowing that if he broke her telepathic connection to Carlos, she’d be safe. But, if Carlos could help her…
“I am here,” announced Carlos. The huddled scared man was standing tall beside her.
“Thank you,” she said. “Listen, this is your mind. I don’t care who or what the Ace of Spades is. This is your mind. I need you to drive him out.”
“But how, I don’t have the strength. He controlled me, made me pretend to be Psionicist.”
“I understand,” she said, “but I will give you strength. Take my hand and wish with all your heart, with every fiber of your being that the Ace of Spades is gone and that you want to wake up.”
“But…”
“Carlos,” said Rigel, screaming to be heard over the maelstrom surrounding them, “I need you to do this. I need you to believe.”
“For you, my superhero, I will do my best.”
The howling of the whirlwind stopped, as did the other noise, which Cori now recognized as the sound of a flipping playing card just on a grand scale.
“You can’t win. Carlos cannot defeat me.”
Rigel squeezed Carlos’ hand. “Yes, he can,” she said, and with that, she focused her energies through him. “Drive him out Carlos. Take back your mind.”
“YES!” yelled Carlos.
The ruined city shattered in a burst of light. The playing card in Rigel’s hand caught fire. She caught her breath.
“You did it. I’ll see you when you wake up.”
With that, the world faded. Rigel glimpsed a hospital room as she lost her balance and nearly her consciousness. She waited for the impact on the floor, but instead, she felt Nightstar’s strong arms around her.
“I’ve got her,” Nightstar said.
“Superhero…” said a weak rasping voice from the hospital bed.
“He’s awake,” shouted Gabe. “She did it.”
“Rigel, are you okay?” asked Nightstar.
As she thought about the Ace of Spades, she shook her head no.
“What is it?” he asked, sounding concerned.
Her mouth felt dry. She heard Gabe open the door and shout for assistance. Carlos was mumbling on the bed.
“That man isn’t Psionicist. We need to get back to Freedom Squad before….”
“Before what?”
She swallowed and telepathically answered Nightstar, not wanting to speak. “Before the Ace of Spades finds out what we’ve done.”
Still Writing (and this one rambles)
When most people find out that I’m a published author, they are usually surprised. The reactions range from “Oh, I know someone who self-published something too” to “Wow, if you’re an author, why do you still come to work?” After a while, most tell me how impressed they are that I manage to find the time. I often get to share stories with them about their dreams, and I do my best to encourage them.
Of course, just because I write doesn’t mean it’s easy.
I’m an overweight guy in his forties with a kid, a wonderful wife and a mortgage. I have a full time job (which I happen to like), but I struggle with bills and wish I kept up with my lawn better. I’m tired when I get home from work. I want to watch the Voice, the Big Bang Theory, the Walking Dead, etc. I wish sometimes that I played an MMORPG or that I was good enough at shooting games to offer to play Call of Duty with the guys at work. I have a long list of things that need fixing around the house. If I just gave up writing, I’d have a lot more time and could join in a whole lot more conversations about what’s on tv at night.
However, I can’t give up writing. It’s my dream. Sure, I’d love to go and see a movie one day based on a book that I wrote. I’m pretty sure that will never happen, but I can’t let the thought go. I wanted to be a writer since I read my first comic books, like Incredible Hulk #200, Captain America and the Falcon #199, and Iron Man #89 (all vol. 1 just to date myself). I found a journal in 8th grade where I wrote that I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. I still remember my grandfather, who I call Captain Heckel, giving me a copy of Beowulf. It’s what I wanted to do ever since I discovered books. I want to write Lord of the Rings. I want to make other people happy, to inspire them, to lift spirits, to somehow improve the world a little bit.
I feel called to do it. It’s one of the reasons that I’m here. I’ve quit writing before, a couple of times in fact, but I can’t stay away. Story ideas live in my head. I imagine scenarios and characters. I could fill this blog with novel titles that have yet to be written, and I’m sure the list will be longer in a year. It’s my dream, and it fills me with hope.
I know that if I should be fortunate enough to live to a ripe old age that if my grandchildren or great-grandchildren ask me if I ever had any dreams, I’ll be able to say yes. If they want to know if I tried to pursue them, I’ll say I did. Success or failure, I’ll know that I tried. I’ve always believed that if you try your best, no one came blame you if you don’t succeed.
So, I’ll keep writing. I’ll do a little bit after my daughter goes to bed. I’ll write at lunch for fifteen minutes or half an hour. I’ll try to write a little in the morning or at night when I can’t sleep. I’ll diligently save the words, and slowly, but surely, novels will grow. And then, I’ll go back to them and rewrite and rewrite and edit and rewrite again. 🙂
I hope that everyone who reads this finds a way to pursue their own dream. If it’s writing, fantastic. If it’s painting miniatures, great. If it’s growing the roses that everyone on your street talks about or being the sort of fan of your local college team that everyone respects, wonderful. Dreams don’t have to be pursued full-time and even doing a little bit can make a difference. Just make sure that whatever it is that it makes you happy.
Okay, I’ve rambled a bit. Hopefully, I’ll have some time to write more blog posts. I’ll put another Freedom Squad Nanowrimo up tomorrow.
All the best!
Harry
Day 4 Nanowrimo – Freedom Squad (a little late)
Chapter 4
Daniel Hunter was awake when Cori’s call reached him. “Hello, Cori,” he said.
“Are you on an encrypted line?” she asked.
“Do superheroes have any unencrypted lines?” he replied with a chuckle.
“True. Okay, what do you know about Defiance?” she asked. Cori felt a twisting worry in her stomach. She paced around her room, walking back and forth at the end of her bed. As much as she tried to reassure herself that Daniel was a technical genius and a former superhero, all she could think was that he was over forty and a normal human. “You should probably be wearing one of your Poltergeist suits.”
“I’m fine, Cori, and I’m not worried. You should do some of your yoga. It’ll help relax you.”
“I’m ignoring the yoga suggestion for now. Seriously, Homeland Security warned me that Defiance might go after you.”
“If he does, I’ll let you know. Listen, Cori, I knew Bill, I mean Defiance. He was a good hero, a little hot-headed, but he was a good hero.”
Cori paused. Her father had always said that Daniel Hunter was an excellent judge of character. There was also something strange in Daniel’s tone, almost melancholy.
“Daniel, what happened to Defiance?”
It was Daniel’s turn to pause. Cori wished that she had the video-conferencing feature activated. She wanted to see Daniel’s expression.
“He made a terrible mistake. He attacked a group of cosplayers, and he couldn’t accept what had happened. I suspect Psionicist tried to use some type of mind control on him, and Bill didn’t take it well. In the end, he surrendered. He just knelt over Psionicist’s body mumbling the same thing over and over.”
“What was he saying?”
Daniel sighed. “He kept saying, ‘He was the Ace of Spades,” like it was a mantra. I think he was trying to convince himself. I had to do it.”
“Daniel, who is the Ace of Spades?”
Daniel cleared his throat and forced a sad chuckle. “Cori, there is no Ace of Spades. There’s no such thing. He’s a myth, a fairy tale, a story that criminals tell to scare each other. When things go wrong, crime lords blame the Ace of Spades. He’s solo operatives, like the hero Argent, or other criminal organizations who disrupt plans and cause issues that criminal organizations don’t anticipate. He’s a bogeyman that master criminals blame for their own failings.”
“Wait,” said Cori, “I thought he was a criminal, not a hero. Why would he be something that criminals would be concerned with? And what is the myth that criminals like to tell each other? Who do they believe he is?”
Cori kept thinking about Agent King. Stacy believed in the Ace of Spades. She had wanted Rigel to know that she believed in the Ace of Spades.
Cori reminded herself that she needed to get used to thinking of herself as Rigel and not mentally refer to herself in the third person.
“Slow down, Cori. First, if he existed, which he doesn’t, he is definitely supposed to be a criminal. Criminals fear competition more than they fear heroes. Most of us obey laws – villains don’t. As far as the myth, it can be convoluted, but generally, he’s supposed to be a genius, usually a hacker and/or engineer who either was arrested as a youth or forcibly recruited by a major criminal organization, something like Dr. Inferno’s cults. As the story goes, he learned everything he could from the criminals he associated with until he was ready to break out on his own. He then used his abilities to steal, scavenge, salvage and take over operations built by other criminals. He’s reputedly untraceable, a phantom, a nearly virtual entity with resources now on the scale of a major corporation or small country. Think of him as a ‘shadow government’ or other conspiracy theory organization in the form of a single individual.”
“Someone like that would be incredibly dangerous,” she said.
“That’s true, except for one thing,” said Daniel.
“What?” asked Cori.
“He doesn’t exist,” stated Daniel.
“Right. I know. I’m just trying to understand what Defiance might be thinking and what he might do,” she said. She didn’t like lying to Daniel, but if the Ace of Spades did exist, he might be able to monitor her communicator or Daniel’s line, even if it had been encrypted by Poltergeist.
She glanced around her room, noting the various security cameras and thinking about the number of security scanners that ran throughout Freedom Squad Headquarters. What if someone could use them to watch her?
“Daniel, could we get together for lunch sometime? I miss you. We could even meet somewhere as Poltergeist and Rigel.”
“Sure,” he said, “but no costumes. I’m retired. Send something to my scheduler.”
“Will do. Thanks, Daniel.”
“Cori, one last thing,” he said, “be careful.”
“No worries,” she said with a smile that she didn’t feel. “Bye, Daniel.’
“Bye, Cori.”
She sat down on her bed, debating about whether to mentally command her costume to shift into something more relaxing. Her head still hurt.
“Off,” she said aloud, letting the costume flow off of her. She needed to sleep.
She climbed into bed, lay down on her pillow and closed her eyes. As she drifted off, she imagined that somewhere the Ace of Spades might be real and be watching. As she cautioned herself not to be paranoid, she slipped into a restless sleep.
Day 3 Nanowrimo – Freedom Squad
Chapter 3
Uberdude had been the last of the super-villains to put up a fight, but it seemed to Cori as if the aftermath of the battle lasted forever. At some point, Protector grabbed her arm to help steady her. Now that the rush of combat had worn off, she wanted a pillow.
Instead, she had to spend her time talking with officials and answering questions. Poor Rockslide had nearly been locked up as somcame Homeland Security agents had confused him for a super-villain. She wasn’t sure exactly when the team got back to Freedom Squad Headquarters.
“Home,” Rigel breathed as she stepped out of the Freedom Flyer.
“I’ll take Nightstar to the med lab,” said Protector.
“I can walk. I’m just a little dizzy,” replied Nightstar. “I think the guy who kicked me used to trade martial arts bouts with Tiger Iron of the Wardens and Argent.”
“Then count yourself lucky,” said Protector.
“I always do, Alex, every day,” replied Nightstar.
Cori rolled her eyes.
Rockslide labored as he clambered out of the ship. He had several cracks and chips in his stony exterior.
“Rockslide, do you need anything to help you recover?” thought Rigel telepathically to the massive hero.
“Sleep,” he thought back.
She smiled at him in agreement.
The team went their separate ways once they were inside the base. Rigel decided that she better check the Monitor Room before retiring for the night. The Monitor Room door opened to reveal Starlight and several governmental-looking agents.
“Greetings, Rigel,” said Starlight. “These are official Terran authorities who needed to meet with you.”
An athletic brunette walked up to Rigel and extended one hand while flashing a badge with the other. “Rigel, I’m Agent Stacey King. We spoke briefly at the prison.”
“G’day, Agent King,” said Cori, “sorry to be direct, but my head hurts. What are you doing in my base?”
“We are fully authorized to enter this base. Your mayor himself…”
“Yes,” interrupted Cori, “he sometimes has a tendency to try to impress people by letting them run around Freedom Squad Headquarters. But why are you here?”
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened tonight and who escaped.”
“We got a lot of them.”
“Please, Rigel, sit down. Let me explain why I’m concerned. It has to do specifically with one prisoner. Have you ever heard of the hero Defiance?” asked Agent King.
“Of course, everyone has. He went mad, and they had to arrest him. It started a whole round of Congressional hearings in this country of yours.”
The agents paused and exchanged glances.
“You are the daughter of an American citizen and have a US citizenship yourself, despite the time you spent in Australia,” said Agent King.
“Country of ours,” said Rigel, “I just try to distance myself from Congress when I can.”
Stacy King smirked. “Understandable. Please sit down. I want to go over everything, but I’ll try and make it brief.”
Cori sat. She really didn’t want to deal with whatever this was until after eight hours had passed under her covers. However, these homeland security agents were serious. Certainly, anything this important would keep her awake long enough to hear it.
“Defiance, also known as William or Bill Hudson, was a trained archaeologist who gained metahuman abilities through unknown circumstances. For his own reasons, he named himself Defiance and became well-known as a superhero. Largely impervious with super-strength in the upper measurable limits of our scales and the ability to fly, he began dispensing justice while having several run-ins with the law. Defiance often clashed with law enforcement as he didn’t always feel the need to build a case or collect evidence before taking action. As a result, several criminals that he brought in walked out of courtrooms only a few months later. Despite that, we feel that he tried to do the right thing.”
Cori nodded.
“Unfortunately, he chose to attack a cosplay group who had decided to attend a comic book or sci-fi convention dressed as the villain team, the Destroyers. He put three college kids into ICUs. In the aftermath, he was confronted by a hero team-up of convenience, including Psionicist, the former Protector and your old friend, Poltergeist. You might hear it referred to as the ‘P’ team. Psionicist remains in a coma to this day. It was the Protector who put an end to Defiance’s rampage.”
Cori thought back to her father’s crime files. She remembered all the coverage of Defiance’s trial. After some crazy rantings at the beginning, he had said nothing, just stared blankly into the cameras.
Rigel raised a silver glove, “Wait, didn’t he rant about being set up, claim that Psionicist was a super-villain who was mind controlling him?”
Agent King nodded. “Actually, he claimed that Psionicist was the crime lord known as the Ace of Spades, an individual rumored in certain circles to manipulate criminal activities across the country for his own purposes. There’s no evidence that an Ace of Spades exists or has ever existed, but there are plenty of people who believe in him.”
“What about you, Agent King?” asked Cori.
She said nothing, but she thought loudly enough for Cori to hear. “He absolutely exists, and one day, I will find him, Rigel.”
“My concern is with Defiance,” answered Agent King in her regular voice. “There’s a good chance that he may go after Poltergeist, and I understand that you and he are close. He’s your godfather, isn’t he?”
“He is,” said Cori. She felt a pain in her chest. Daniel Hunter, known to the world as Poltergeist, was like an uncle to her, or probably more like a big brother. He was the first person that she had told when she decided to take on the costumed identity of Rigel, even before her father. He was the one who had provided her with a psychically reactive neospandex costume which could change color, texture and shape at her mental command. Daniel relied on technology for his invisibility and magnetic powers, but without the suit, he was a normal human.
“We will be watching him, but you may want to reach out and make sure that he’s taking appropriate measures to stay safe. “
“Of course.”
“The other likely targets for him are Psionicist and the current Protector.”
“But why would he go after them?” asked Cori.
“He believes that they all have connections in some way to the Ace of Spades.”
Cori didn’t think she was going to be able to get to sleep.
Happy Halloween and Nanowrimo Eve
Happy Halloween to everyone! I plan to go trick or treating with my daughter who will be Doctor Who. I really should have painted a large cardboard box blue and followed her around as a Tardis. Afterward, I’ll try and take a nap before watching the clock so I can start on Nanowrimo 2013.
I’m very happy that WordPress has chosen to include me in a writer’s roundtable on Nanowrimo. They quoted me in an article – https://en.blog.wordpress.com/2013/10/28/nanowrimo-2013. Additionally, they will have some more quotes on the Daily Post.
Final preparations for Nano beginning will include going to nanowrimo.org and making sure I’ve updated my information and accepted buddy requests. Smashwords, an e-book retailer, has a special nanowrimo promotion going on, and I may sign up and participate in that. They e-publish your nanowrimo book and promote it. Here’s the link. Beyond that, I’m probably going to do some outlining (mentally at least) and write the first scene of my novel in my head.
At the moment, I’m planning on doing a superhero piece this month inspired by several friends and lots of old Hero System Champions games. We’ll see what ultimately happens after midnight tomorrow.
Be safe trick or treating! Happy Nanowrimo prep to all!
Harry
Preparation for Nanowrimo
As the countdown continues to November 1st, I’m doing my best to get ready for novel-writing. For me, there are a couple of steps that I will be taking to make sure this year starts out well.
Love an idea and outline it – I want to have an idea and usually I have two or three on that last day. I like having two in case I suddenly have cold feet about the one I decided to do. I’ll do some preliminary research on locations or any trivial facts that I need to get the first day off to a fantastic start. In order to write 50,000 words, I really want to make sure that I love the concept and that I have a basic outline written out. The outline might get thrown out after day 1, but it helps me to have a plan so I don’t run out of momentum. I need to make sure that I love the idea because at some point when I’m trying to write 50K in one month, I’m going to hate trying to write this book. I need to love the novel enough to get over my lack of desire to sit at the computer and type. 50,000 words is a lot of writing.
Support Group Activated! – For me, this means warning my family and friends that I’m doing nanowrimo. It’s always good to tell those close to you what you are planning so they can support you through the process. Recruiting a friend to write along with you can help as well. Before I finished the Crimson Hawks novel in 2009, I fell 10,000 words behind the pace. A buddy of mine was in the same situation. He called me and we both agreed to push each other and do a little extra every day and catch up. Unfortunately, he didn’t finish his book, but he certainly helped me finish mine. Friends have two seemingly opposed jobs: They help make sure I have time to write, and they need to pull me away from the computer before I burn out mid-month. 🙂
Noveling Supplies – A good friend of mine asked me if I had enough caffeine ready for November. It was a valid point. Personally, if you are going to stay up too late increasing your word count, I recommend water and fruit juices as opposed to soda or energy drinks. Coffee and tea work in moderation, but over-caffination (sp?- yes, I know but it should be a word) tends to run me down in the long term. Nanowrimo is a marathon, not a sprint. My writing mentor once told me that you won’t fall asleep if you have to go to the bathroom so drink lots of water. Hydration also keeps the brain working. There’s nothing wrong with a favorite snack as well, and I like to have a notepad around. Writing on paper can change my mindset and help me get through sticky plot issues. Besides, my eyes get tired staring at computer monitors.
Sleep – Of all the things I’ve listed, this is the most important. Just about everyone writes better when they’ve had more sleep. It doesn’t always feel that way, but trust me, sleep is essential. I try to get extra sleep if I can before November 1st, and I almost always take a nap after trick or treating to brace myself for midnight.
There is a lot of good advice out there for potential novelists. Take a look, see what you find, and decide what works for you!
All the best,
Harry (Vashar on Nanowrimo.org)
Nanowrimo Time is Near!
Well, it’s almost that time again, that wild crazy month where I write 50,000 words in a month while still having a day job, being a dad and doing all of those other things that life throws at me.
It’s a wonderful, miserable, creative time.
I strongly urge anyone who has ever thought about writing a novel to go to nanowrimo.org and sign up. Take thirty days and do everything you can. Write without worrying about punctuation or plot. Give it a try. You might surprise yourself.
My first attempt was in 2008, and it was a miserable failure. I think I got about 8,000-ish words done (the official number was used for a blog that word press is putting out – I just can’t remember right now). I was rather disappointed with myself. After all, I’ve been a freelance writer for years, and I’ve written 17,000 words in a weekend before. Nonetheless, the piece that I created was eventually completed and became Souls of the Everwood. The link takes you to the paperback copy. The great part of it all was that I failed at writing a novel in November 2008, but I stuck with it in the months that followed and still got a novel out of it.
In 2009, I decided to try nanowrimo again, and I was determined to prove something to myself. Suddenly, James Markson came to life, and he dictated the first Crimson Hawks novel, a swash and buckle fantasy adventure. It was a rough ride, but I finished. I won. It was a spectacular feeling, and I truly love In the Service of the King. I wanted to create a fun, light read, and I think I accomplished it. I really need to finish the second one.
For 2010, I wanted to redeem Krueger and the cast of Souls of the Everwood and prove that I could complete a Krueger novel. This was the novel that I finished at 11:45pm on November 30. I was SO far behind that last week that I still don’t know how I finished it. I had to work too. I finally had that novel published this year, a sequel to Souls of the Everwood, titled Balefire and Brimstone. I got to introduce a new character and explore Krueger’s soul a touch more. I have an outline for a third book tentatively titled The Fall of Ostburg. It’s going to be about all the dark things that Krueger left behind at the end of Souls of the Everwood.
I’m hopeful that my efforts in 2012 and 2013, Covenant and Son of Helios, Champion of Ra will get to be published novels of their own one day, but both need a lot of polish and lengthening before they are ready to go. I haven’t completely decided what I’m doing this year, but I’m leaning toward something superhero-ish at the moment. I’ve also thought about doing that new Krueger novel. I enjoy having black powder weapons in my fantasy world wielded by a crazed one-eyed ex-demon hunter/ranger. However, if anyone has any thoughts on what I should write, please feel free to make suggestions. I’ve got a few days.
Anyway, I have suffered happily through National Novel Writing Month since 2008. I haven’t always enjoyed it, and I’m sure my wife hasn’t always enjoyed it. However, it’s made me a better writer and taught me how to write much faster. I’ve learned to write on spiral notebooks and napkins. I’ve used dropbox and emailed myself words, all to reach 50K in one month. My nanowrimo name is Vashar if you want to give it a try and track your progress along with me. Whether you finish 1,000 words or 50,000 words, you’ll be closer to completing a novel than you were before the month started. You owe it to yourself to give it a try.
All the best!
Harry
Harry Heckel 