[LNH/Acraphobe] The Team #50

The Team #50
The Lazurus Imperative Part Four
By Jesse N. Willey
        
Chapter One: How We've Lived

"I'll ask you again, Miss Weinstein.   Why do records show that a
member of your organization authorized the activation of The Lazarus
Imperative?" The Chairman replied.
"I-I don't know," she said.

The words spun in her head.    She looked around the room.   Mystery,
Duplicator and Starless were all here.    Boy Redundant Lad quit some
time ago.   That was all of them, except... except.... well it doesn't
count.

"Well... there is another member of The Team.  He is easy to forget
sometimes because he's not actually alive," Angelica said.
"Not alive?  How so?" The Chairman asked.
"It's a computer generated gestalt personality type of several people.
  Andrew made him awhile back.  He'd only do something like this if it
was hidden in his program.   Oh shit, it's him," Angelica replied.
"It's who?" the Chairman said.
"His name is Virtual Man," Angelica said.  "and up until recently, he
thought my brother was a god."

                ****************

        In the bowels beneath the Capitol building is a subway line.    Every
year it costs the taxpayers millions to maintain.   It allows the
Senators to secretly travel in from the floors of Congress and their
offices or other nearby government buildings. For years Senators,
Congressmen, Presidents and Foreign Dignitaries have used it to get in
and out of the building.   Today, it has two passengers without such
distinction.

        "Grey Phantom to Lady Killfile.   The Doc and I are on the train.  
Only one more security checkpoint and we're through."
        "What's your ETA?" Deliah asked.
        "Huh?"
        "She means our Estimated Time of Arrival," Doritron replied softly.
        "Oh yeah.   Sixty seven seconds," Grey Phantom whispered.
        "Do you have your security clearance?" Deliah asked.
        "All the clearance I'm going to need," Grey Phantom snickered as she
pulled her axe out of her pocket.

                **************

        "May we speak to this `Virtual Man'?" The Chairman asked.
        "No sir.   During our last bout with the Enobi he set himself into
conserve power mode.  His program has become increasing hard to run,
almost as if his Artificial Intelligence was being diverted by another
program," Angelica replied.   "I have a feeling I know what that
program is."
        "Oh, please explain," The Chairman said monotonously. 
        "The Computer," Angelica said.  "The massive Artificial Intelligence
that served the function of Andrew's Executive Assistant and Vice
President of Corporate Affairs."
        "He had an AI as a Vice President?  Is that legal?" Chairman said.
        "Check the anti-discrimination bill he paid you all to sign,"
Angelica said.   "It shall be illegal for employers to discriminate
against any sentient being regardless of species, planet of origin or
means of creation (including genetic engineering, cloning or any other
artificial means).  Face it, he played you.  He played us all."
        "Enough about your brother.  Can we speak to this computer," The
Chairman said.
        "You can try," Angelica said.

                *************

The cold sterile walls closed in.   The air felt dry and recycled.  
Voices were loud and furious.   The Enobi were unhappy of the
imprisonment in the federal quarantine facility.   A prison that is
just like home is still a prison.

        "Sir, the others aren't getting results," said The Enobi commander
said.
        "Oh?  Why?"
        "These Earth leaders are playing political games while we wait to
find out if we have a home to inhabit or not.   They seem more
concerned with the blame game than doing something about our plight,"
The Commander replied.
        "I was afraid of that.   Did the those intelligence officers survive
the beam out?" The Captain replied.
        "Yes, sir," The Commander replied.
        "Then here's what we do," he said.
                
************************

They placed a communication card on the podium and switched it on.  
There was no response.   Angelica telekinetically grabbed the card and
began to apply pressure.   The card began to crack.

"If you think this is bad, just wait to see what I'll do to your
mainframe if you don't talk," she said.
"All right, I will speak," said The Computer said.  "I wish to inform
this congress that I consider the threat of crushing my circuits to be
cruel and usual punishment."
"Noted, and denied," The Chairman said.  "God, bless the Patriot act."
"Just get on with this charade," The Computer said.
"State your name for the record," The Chairman said.
"..."
"Will you speak up so that this body can hear you?"
"..."
"Anymore silence and I'll find you in contempt of congress.   Answer
the question," The Chairman replied.
"I would answer the question, if there was an answer.  The Master
Programmer saw names as a way for one being to gain power over
another.   Being a benevolent man, who wished none, not even himself,
to have control over the potential of my artificial development chose
not to give me a name," The Computer said.   "Even my gender protocols
are mutable for different occasions."
"Can you tell us why you were created?" The Chairman asked.
"I was designed to assist Mister Weinstein with the day to day
operations of his corporate empire.  He had an organic who filled this
position before I did, he began to see himself as emotionally
perplexing to her organic processes.   Rather than see her feel
trapped in a life she did not want, he designed me.  I have struggled
to develop myself beyond this function," said The Computer.
"Like Pinocchio, or that guy on Star Trek?" asked Smith.
"Almost.   Though at times I found myself simultaneously serving as
his Jiminy Cricket," The Computer responded.
"Can you explain the Lazurus Imperative to us?" The Chairman asked.
"Yes, it is quite simple. Over the past decade, The Master Programmer
collected a variety of technologies from across the known universe.  
Using his superior intellect he created the Nanoengine.   This device
creates trillions of nanites, little tiny robots, that can build just
about anything.   For example, medical nanites can be constructed to
repair missing limbs or even repair damaged DNA.   Or in this case
engineering nanites can take debris and free floating particles from
smog and various other forms of pollution, convert them into their key
elements, and recombine them to remake just about anything," The
Computer replied.
"And his purpose for doing this was?" The Chairman asked.
"To rebuild the city of Sig.ago," The Computer said.
"Can you tell me how the villain Doctor Killfile knew about this
project?" The Chairman asked.

                *******************


Where does a super strong daemonic Ape stand?   Anywhere he wants.  
Even at the doors to a top secret Congressional hearing.

"This is it.  The time to strike is NOW!" Beastial yelled.

Doritron listened over the line. 

"Can you tell me how the villain Doctor Killfile knew about this
project?" The Chairman asked.
"No, this I have to see," Doritron replied.  


                *******************

"The Master Programmer started this project using the Executive Power
that the President gave him.   He was given no oversight as long as
his research produced results.  He worked with almost every super
scientist he could think of.   While I advised against it, one of
those scientists was Doctor Killfile.   Killfile's theories of quantum
resonant echoes proved invaluable to The Master Programmer's research.
  Andrew knew that releasing Killfile out right would have raised a
few eyebrows.   So he had him quietly transferred him to John Hopkins
University for experimental treatment for Meta and Parahuman
psychosis.   If he escaped, it is simply because John Hopkins did not
follow the proper restraint protocols that the Master Programmer
provided them.   I attempted to contact the NSA and DOHS, but Master
Programmer scrambled my line," The Computer said.

******************

Beastial snarled again.

"Do we strike now, Boss?" 
"Yes... now we strike," Doritron smiled.


Chapter Two: To Protect and Serve

Beastial punched the door with the strength of a tank shell.  
Splinters of wood went flying through the large cabinet hall. 
Congressman and senators attempted to run.

"What is going on here?" shouted the Chairman.
"Meeting adjourned, by order of The Dark Conclave," Doritron said
wickedly.
"What gives you that authority?" The Chairman asked.
"This..." Doritron said, handing a paper to The Chairman.  He handed the
paper to the Chairman.  "You will all sign it, if you want to live."

The Chairman looked at the paper.

"It's written like some sort of bill... what, impeaching the President,
putting you in power... rescinding the bill of rights?   This is
insane," The Chairman said.
"Didn't you guys sign a bill doing that last one not to long ago,"
Starless quipped.
"Shut up, Nick," Duplicator said, giving Nick an elbow to the rib.

Nick adjusted the dial on his thunder gauntlet.   His other hand was
already glowing.   He stood up and blasted Doritron.    It was
absorbed into thing air a few inches from his body.

"What the..."
"Forgot about the armor didn't you," said Doritron.

The other members of The Team leapt to their feet.   They stared at
each other for a fraction of a second, then each chose their foes.

"Trying to beat us with brute force?   You can't do it," Deliah said.


 *******************

        He couldn't do it.   Rick Henkerton reached for his communication
card, and tried to push the button.   He knew Carolyn had a right to
know what happened to her sister.   What Doctor Killfile had made her
become.   He just couldn't bring himself to be the one to tell her.

        "Stop being so childish, Rick," he muttered to himself.   "Sometimes
you act like you're still a boy, not a man."

        He gulped down on saliva and sighed.   His fingers push down on the
button.  Carolyn quickly filled the screen.

        "Yo, Rick.   It's been a while.  What's up?"
        "Um... Carolyn.  There's something important I have to tell you," he
said.  "It's about Deliah."
        "I already know.   Vincent Stomper called an hour ago.  He also said
that you'd better get down to DC if you want to get there in time to
testify," Carolyn replied.

                *********************

        Mystery took a swing at Beastial.  It caught him by surprise.   He
could tell by the smell, it wasn't her.  At least it wasn't the
Mystery that he was used to.  The clouds she was weaving smelled
almost like someone else he had met before.

        He grabbed her wrist.   Within seconds she was in agony.   Mystery
screamed with pain, just as something vague and indeterminate move in
the background.   She could have sworn she saw a blue jumpsuit and a
red cape.

        Meanwhile Duplicator and Angelica were dodging energy blast from Lady
Killfile.   Grey Phantom's antiproton made swipe at Duplicator.

        "What's the matter, love?" Grey Phantom whispered to him.   "Don't
have anything to say to your dear sister."
        "Uhhh..."
        
        Angelica gave Duplicator a weird look.    Lady Killfile spotted it.  
Killfile took the empty stump of a hand and energized it.    She
rammed it into Angelica chest.  At the last second, Angelica raised
her force field and the energy was deflected back into Deliah's face.

        "You little bitch!" Deliah yelled as her face began to blister.
        "Woof woof!" Angelica replied tauntingly. 
        "How you dare mock me.  I am a Killfile!" Deliah ranted.
        
        A lightning bolt hit square in the back.  Deliah began to convulse. 
Starless blew in his finger as if it were a gun.    He raised his
shades for a second.

        "Maybe this newfangled nanomechanical hands is good for something
after all," he exclaimed.
           

        Duplicator did a flip, and landed a few feet away from Mystery.   As
he suspected, Grey Phantom followed him.   She leapt forward, axe
glaring.   Duplicator grabbed her by the hand and broke it.   She
dropped the axe.   He grabbed it, and began to demolecularize it.  The
axe seemed to resist.  It maintained molecular coherence for several
seconds before it began pulsating.    Not liking the look it,
Duplicator threw it blindly.   There was a horrendous explosion.

        "Could you possibly throw that detonation any closer?" Mystery
yelled.

        Duplicator turned around, and was disgusted.  Beastial had huge hole
through his innards.

        "I don't understand it," Duplicator gasped.  "That shouldn't have
happened."
        "It was the antimatter, love," Grey Phantom replied.   
        "Will you shut up?" Mystery said as she gassed Grey Phantom.  The
Grey Phantom passed out.

        Doritron did not look amused.  He was hoping it wouldn't come to
this.  If this did not work, after all his years of careful planning
he'd have been outsmarted by a dead man.  He couldn't let that happen.

        "You're all out of goons, Doritron.   It's all over" Nick said. 
"Don't make this any harder on yourself."
        "Please, I've been planning this far to long..." Doritron said.  "You
didn't think I'd come without a backup plan, did you?"

        Doritron pulled a small test tube with a yellow liquid in it.   The
senators who had yet to escape the hall gasped.

        "What is that stuff?" asked Smith.
        "If it's what I think it is, we're all in deep shit," Angelica
replied.
        "Every bit as observant as your brother, Miss Weinstein.   You are
correct; it is a sample I obtained through my contacts amongst the
Enobi.  They call it The Yellow Death," Doritron cackled.  "A sample
this small could wipe out fifteen miles."

There was a quick gust of wind.  It was a sound all the team members
were familiar with.   A hand grabbed the tube and quickly flew off.

"What?  Where did it go?   NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he shouted.  
"It's right here," said a voice from behind him.

Doritron turned around.

"Boy Redundant Lad???  I heard you quit," Doritron yelled.
"The name is Guy Redundant Man, and I did.   I just came to do my
civic duty and testify before congress," he said.  "Not a moment too
soon, it would seem."

Doritron just stuttered as security hauled him away.


        *********************

        Angelica pushed a button on her communication card.   A hyperspace
corridor opened.    She made a quick gesture before saying `All
aboard!'   The Team members walked through the portal and returned to
their headquarters.


"What do you plan on doing with the sample?" Nick asked.
"Simple high end electricity should denature the protein strains.  
I'm pretty sure you can take it from here," he said.
"So love, are you back?" Mystery asked.
"No... I... I have some other things to take care of," he replied.  
        "We can help you," she said.
        "I just don't feel comfortable with that right now," he responded.
        
        Nick made a sudden cough.   

        "I hate to break up this tender heart filled moment, but I have an
announcement to make," he said.  "I quit.  I'm going back to Benyori
where my every decision isn't being question by every stuffed shirt
pencil pusher who's up for reelection."
        "I quit as well.  I want to try and help Rick," Mystery said.
        "Amelia, please..." Rick muttered.
        "My system are being better spent toward the Lazarus Imperative,"
chimed in Virtual Man.
        "Well, I guess that means I'm going to take over my brother's
company," Angelica replied.
        "...and then there was one," Duplicator said.  "Come on guys.  We can't
give up now. We're still needed.  We're so close."

        Everyone walked off toward different doors.   The power went down.

        "Come on guys," he said.   "Please..."

  
        Chapter Three: In the Company of villains.


        Two days passed, and Josh Chesterfield sat in the living room of his
dad's new house.  He was watching game shows, pondering how he was
going to keep up his identity without the resources and equipment The
Team provided him.

The screen went blank.   Several voices echoed in every language
imaginable simultaneously.    Josh took a step back toward his
bedroom.

        "Leaders of Earth, we are the Enobi.    We have ceased control of
your nanoengine.   Due to humans unending sense of greed and lack of
wisdom, we have deemed it unsafe for your species to posses a device
capable of developing weapons of planetary destruction," The Voices
said.  "We shall see to it that the engine is used to guide your
people to better themselves, and not to the destruction of others. 
Any attempt to regain control will result in massive loss of human
life.   Good day."
        "Ah shit," Josh thought.  "I know of only one man alive who knows the
nanoengine inside and out."
        

                ************************

        Doctor Killfile sat in a cell. He'd recovered quickly from the
beating that Deliah gave him.   His bowls still burned when he
excreted, and his back was a little sore, but he was otherwise no
worse for wear.     He had survived.  He knew he would, he was the
great Killfile after all.

 "I don't know exactly where I am, but that is the one thing I don't
know.  I know that by now, The Team has been called before congress.  
If things went the way I believed they would, they will have no sense
in trust in each other.   Thus, they have already fallen apart,"
Killfile said musingly to himself.  "The Enobi, being patient when
dealing with fates of others but such hypocrites when their own fate
is being decide, have probably decided to cease control of the
nanoengine or other high tech device.  The higher ups off the LNH are
off in space, doing guard duty for a Dorfian peace accord.     Seeing
as how Stomper and I are the only ones alive who could understand the
inner mechanics of the Nanoengine, that would mean the last team
member with a wish to save the world should be coming in right about..."

The doors opened.  Duplicator entered the room.

"...now."
"So I assume you know what this is about?" Duplicator asked.
"Yes, and we'd better hurry.  We have many preparations to make.  You
do your best to free the New Grey Phantom and Beastial.  Give me a
communications card.  I'll need to contact an old friend," said
Killfile.

                ************************

        Duplicator walked toward the two other villain's cells with a heavy
heart.   He couldn't believe he was doing this.  A few days ago he was
berating the others for making deals with devils, and here he was
working with Doctor Killfile.

        He heard the tapering sound of footsteps.  He turned around to see a
Dorfish figure behind him.    Before he could mutter `how could things
get possibly get any worse?', Joshua noticed something very human
about the man's stance.

        "Don't do this?" the man said.
        "Who are you?"
        "Vel... we met earlier.   I'm with the LNH."
        "I thought the most of the LNH was off in space handling the peace
treaty?" Josh said.
        "They are.   Some reason the dorfan delegation didn't want me at the
meeting.  Something about my mixed heritage being an insult," Vel
said.
        "You'd think you with a peace treaty, they'd want you there... as proof
it can work," Duplicator replied.
        "You'd THINK... but enough about me," he said.  "The Enobi padded their
estimate of number of survivors.   There's less than forty of them.  
The two of us can take them.  We don't need these psychos."
        "One of these psychos happens to know more about the nanoengine than
anyone else on the planet," Duplicator said.
        "At least let me come along," Vel said.  "You never know when you'll
need someone watching your back."
        "Fine, fine," Duplicator replied.  "I'll be right back."

        Duplicator turned a corner and entered the cell.


                *************************


        Eric Morova stood alone in the forest outside his village.  He used
to come here a lot to think and sulk.   As he adjusted to life here,
he had come out to the woods less and less.

        There was a soft buzzing his helmet.  Eric had wondered why he wore
it tonight.   He almost never put it on.

        "Hello Morova, I need your help with something."
        "Killfile?  How did you find me?"
        "Come now," Killfile replied.  "We both know you are very easy to
locate if you know what to look for. I wanted to know how much you
know about a device called the nanoengine and an alien race called the
Enobi."
        "Not much... and what little I've heard doesn't sound pleasant," Eric
replied.
        "It's not.  Which is why I need you to help me with a covert
operation.  We'll enter the nanoengine.    Then insure that the
nanoengine's computer system is able to regain control of itself,"
Killfile responded.
        "Why do you care?"
        "I don't.   They are simply another obstacle in my plan," Killfile
said.
        "Glad to see you haven't changed," Eric replied smugly.
        "You're the one attempting ride the road to redemption, not me,"
Killfile said.

        Lagneto took off his helmet and began walking away.

        "If you think they'll stop with Sig.ago, you're wrong Eric.   They'll
hit New York, Washington, Net.tropolis, or even Thailand.  They could
hurt your family," Killfile grunted.
"I'll be in Sig.ago as soon as possible."
        "No, need, I'll have a hyperspace corridor sent," Killfile replied.


                ****************

        Duplicator entered the cell.

        "Katherine... are you there?"

        A wad of saliva landed on his cheek.

        "I'll take that as a yes."
        "Stinking bastard!"
        "What?"
        "Leaving me for that manipulative red headed bitch!"
        "Face facts, we're siblings.   Okay?  Grey Phantom was my father
too!"
        
        She snarled.

        "I need you..."
        "You do?"
        "... to help me.   Very dangerous aliens have taken control of an
advanced piece of technology and are using it blackmail humanity,"
Joshua responded.
        "Oh."
        "Look, if you and your pet monster come work for us, I might be able
to convince the prison to give you books or a TV or something...
provided that we live through all of this..." he said.
        "I want..." 
        "Yes?"
        "New wallpaper.  Something other than plain blue.  It's depressing,"
she said.
        "Okay... okay..."
        "And for the mission, I'll need..."
        "What?"
        "A new axe."
        "I'll see what I can do," he said.

          ***********************

        Killfile laughed as the group entered the nanoengine.   Lagneto
turned and stared at him.

        "What's your problem?" Morova asked.
        "Oh think, Eric," Killfile replied.  "Not to sound sentimental, but
you, me, two b list super villains, a desperate super hero and a dorf.
  It almost reminds me of old times."
        "Shut up!   This isn't a game," Lagneto snapped.
        "When did you loose your sense of humor?" Killfile asked.  *

        Security drones flew by.  They fired, but Lagneto froze their bolts
in place.   Beastial picked up Duplicator and slowly stepped out of
the way of the energy blast.   The behemoth then threw him at the
robots.

        "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Duplicator said.   
        "My Job!" Beastial retorted.

        On instinct Duplicator's hands began to glow and the security drones
faded into non-existence.

        "Good job, Monkey Boy," Killfile said.
        "A little warning next time," Duplicator said.  With a little help
from Lagneto, Duplicator had landed softly on his feet.

    Finally, they approached the main nanoengine.   Two alien beings
with pale yellow skin and bovine heads approached them.  They readied
their guns, as Killfile blasted them.   Their bodies were evaporated.

        "Those were.." Duplicator asked.
        "Enobi, yes," Killfile replied.
        "You didn't have to kill them.  We could have disabled them," he
said.
        "I know.   This way was simply easier," Killfile said.
        "But there was another way..." Duplicator said. 
        "The boy is right," Lagneto said with approval.  "One of these days
your rampant killing will come back to haunt you."
        
        Lagneto did not actually believe what he said.   While his own
attitudes toward killing had recently gone through minor changes, he
didn't think Killfile was capable of change.   Killfile knew what he
was doing.  He simply did not care.
        
        "Don't worry.  I bet that was the last of them.   I doubt they could
slip more than a few past security at the quarantine site," Killfile
replied.
        "Since it was just being run by two guys made right?  Tell me, how
many do you have to kill before it becomes wrong?" Duplicator snarled.
        "Trust me, you don't want him to answer that," Lagneto responded.


        They entered a door to the machine and found an undamaged control
panel.   Doctor Killfile pushed buttons on the control panel.

        "Password... let's see if I remember Andrew's password... R-I-N-G-O.  
That ought to do it," Killfile said.
        "Intruder alert!   Security drones activated.   You have two minutes
to evacuate or enter proper access code," The Computer said.
        
        The five security drones silently crept out of their hiding places in
the walls.   The entire group turned to face them.

        "Eric, Grey Phantom, Beastial, Dorf, deal with them," Killfile said.
"Vel, his name is Vel."
"Not now Hero Boy... you actually knew Weinstein.   Help me think of a
backdoor code," he ranted.


        ****************

Vel was used to the anti-dorf sentiment.  On Haven world people
treated it like it didn't exist.   Discrimination is built into human,
even sentient nature.   Some people were just better at hiding it.

"Intruder, don't move," the security drone replied.

Vel, for instance, hated robots.   It wasn't because they replaced the
work of an organic being.  It was simply because they didn't care that
they were being abused.

"Hold up, we're only try to get this place back in working order," Vel
said.

The robot paused for a second to do a self diagnostic.  That was all
the time Vel needed.  He rammed his super storng dorfian fist through
the robots head.

"I find nothing wroo..." the robot said as it stopped functioning. 
           

        ****************

        Duplicator stared at the panel for a fraction of a second.   He tried
to gather his thoughts.

"You must leave in one minute and fifty nine seconds," The Computer
said.
"Okay, you tried his favorite Beatle.   Try his favorite movie,"
Duplicator replied.
"Mister Deeds. Got it?" Killfile replied.
"I didn't figure him for an Adam Sandler type," Duplicator replied.
"Gary Cooper, you philistine," Killfile snarled.  
        "One minute and forty seven seconds to evacuation.   Your threat
potential has been raised to green," The Computer stated.
        "Time seems to be moving fast," Duplicator said.
        "It's a security protocol.   It takes ten seconds of the countdown
for each failed password.   We've got to be more careful," Killfile
yelled.
                
******************

She should have been more careful.   Her first
few swing at the security guard had been just for show.   She had been
trying to invoke fear in the hapless security drone.

"RARRRRRRR!" she screamed. 

She shoved her axe through the robot.   The antiproton axe, for it's
part, simple bounced off the drone.   She looked amazed.

"Your efforts are useless," the drone said. 
"Out of my way, you bucket of bolts," she snarled.

The Security drone grabbed for her.   She flipped out of the way.  She
adjusted the dials on her axe.    She had heard about father doing
this once.  She dreaded doing this.   This would her second axe in as
many days.  If she didn't she be dead.  She turned the axe on and
threw it.

"Your efforts are useless," the drone said.

The axe exploded.   The robot was atomized.   Grey Phantom stared into
the bright light as the explosion threw her back.    Everything went
black.


                ******************

        Killfile thought for a moment.

        "Wait... who did you say introduced you to Weinstein," Killfile asked.
        "Angelica.   She dragged me off to some friend of her's birthday,"
Duplicator responded.
        "That's it.   Angelica," Killfile replied as he typed.
        "One minute thirty five seconds till you must leave," The Computer
said, almost mockingly.  "Your threat potential has been raised to
yellow."
        "Damn!"

                *******************

Lagneto paused time around the robot.  

        "Intr..." 
        "I don't have time for this," Lagneto said.
        
        Lagneto quickly walked up behind the robot and detached a few wires. 
  As Lagneto restarted time, the robot fell to the ground.

        "Pitiful."

                *******************

          Killfile continued snarling.    Duplicator began to sweat.    They
both froze.

        "Nickname.   They were siblings, surely they had nicknames," Doctor
Killfile replied.
        "Freckle Face," Duplicator remarked.
        "One minute twenty seconds till you must leave. Your threat potential
has been raised to Orange," The Computer remarked.

                ********************
        
        Beastial spotted the next batch of security drones coming.   Wave
after wave he tore them to shreds.   He saw Grey Phantom, and jumped
up to catch her.

        The drones stopped coming.   He slowly placed Grey Phantom on the
ground as safely as he could.    He sniffed the air.  Something did
not smell right.   A black shadow with glowing ones and zeroes
appeared out of nowhere.

        "The Heaven?" Beastial asked.
        "I am Virtual Man.    I am the protector of this facility," the
shadow said, as some of the zeroes on his face changed into ones to
imitate mouth movements.
        "And a great job you've done of it too, what with us having to bail
you out," Beastial replied.
        
        Virtual Man blasted the Monkey demon with an energy bolt.  Beastial
threw his enormously large fist into Virtual Man.  His hand passed
right through him.   His hand tingled, followed by a freezing
sensation.

        "Why are you doing this?   I thought you were one of the good guys?"
Beastial said.
        "I am truly sorry.   While my sentience and memory banks are
functioning, I have no control of the fine motor program," Virtual Man
said.

 He released another blast, this time aimed at the unconscious Grey
Phantom.   Beastial lept into the way and lost feeling in his legs.  
He couldn't move.

  
        "Damn it!"  Beastial said as he scratched at the ground trying to get
up.

                *******************

        Duplicator scratched his head.   He knew there was something
important he was forgetting.   Some piece of seemingly irrelevant
history.

        "The birthday party.   The girl was also Andrew's first love,"
Duplicator said.
        "About five eleven, long strawberry blonde hair," he said.
        "Yeah," Duplicator said somewhat disturbed her.  "You know her?"
        "No.  I saw her on a tabloid cover or two," Killfile replied.
        "What's her name again?" Duplicator replied. "Ellen?
        "Alexi?" Killfile asked.
        
        They turned to each and shouted.

        "Ellie!"

        Killfile typed.   The computer warmed up.

        "Settings reset to Weinstein Charlie Beta Thirteen," The Computer
responded.   "Nanoengine will activate at the full power in twenty
seconds."
        "We've got to get out of here!" Duplicator yelled.

                  ******************

        Killfile, Duplicator, Lagneto and Vel stepped out of the nanoengine
with fifteen seconds to spare.   Duplicator turned his head.

        "Where are Grey Phantom and Beastial?" he asked.
        "I don't know," Vel replied.
        "I'm going back for them!" Duplicator shouted.
        "There's no time," Killfile responded coldly.
        
        Lagneto coughed slightly, as if to correct Killfile of his abilities.

        "No, Eric, your trick with the robot already made the reconstruction
program off by a few centimeters.   If you do it at this stage of the
program, it could be off by miles.  You could destroy the surrounding
suburbs," Killfile responded.

        Duplicator stared at the open door.

        "10..."
        "I'm going," Duplicator said.
        "9.."
"Duplicator, don't," Vel replied.
        "8..."
        "I can't just let them die," he said.
        "7..."

        Duplicator got dizzy.  His mind flashed back, or was it forward, to a
future that the Mystery pretender had shown him.   The Grey Phantom
stood above him, holding the axe and was prepared to kill him.

        "6..."
        "Duplicator, are you okay?" Vel said.
        "5..."
        "Yeah... I've got to try.."

        Josh ran to the door.  He was about to stick his foot in.   The door
began to close on his foot.    He could feel the bones in two of his
toes break.   He stepped backwards.

        "Shit!" he yelled.   

        Lagneto stared at Killfile.

        "You knew!"
        "Of course, I knew.  I'm Doctor Fucking Killfile!"
        "If any of us see you again, there will be no sensitive nanoengine to
protect you from me," Lagneto said sternly.
        "Leave me out of that... as a card carrying member of the LNH, it's
probably not a good idea for me to be scene like this with most of
you," Vel said.
        "I'm sure the Ninja will understand," Lagneto said.


                Chapter Five: What We Leave Behind


        Two days later the Nanoengine had almost finished it's job.  
Buildings were back in place, and some people had begun moving back
into Sig.ago.   It looked exactly as they had before the disaster.

    Joshua walked down the street on his crutches.   He spotted a sign
he'd never thought he'd see again.   It was The Justice Café.   Back
in the old days, The Team hung out there all the time.   It was where
they had all met.   The walls were decorated with all the memorabilia
and posters they had before the city was destroyed.   The room had a
surreal quality to it.  It was almost as if the past few years hadn't
happened.

        He looked inside.   There was a party going on.   He kept on walking.
  He walked toward the alleyway.   Two ghostly figures walked toward
him.   If he hadn't known better, he'd have thought they were Patient
Zero and Absurd Lass.

        "Hi Josh," Absurd Lass said.
        "Hey man," said Patient Zero.
        "Aren't you guys dead?"
        "Yep.  Didn't Amelia tell you?  We're afterlife cops now.   We just
stopped a daemonic being from taking over the Ukraine and we had a
little bit of time on Earth Plane pass.   We thought it be rude not to
stop by," Absurd Lass said.  "Even though we weren't invited."
        "Uh..."
        "It's best not to think about it..." Patient Zero said.  

        Duplicator walked into the café.  Almost the whole team was there. 
Angelica, Nick, Amelia and even Rick.   In back of the room, he
noticed Carolyn Forge-Coffee and Terrence Coffee talking in the
background.

        "Hey Bro, we wondered if you were going to show up," Amelia said with
surprise.  "What ended up happening to Killfile?"
        "You heard about that?" Josh asked.
        "You kidding... the whole super human community is talking about it.  
They said you single handedly kept Killfile in line long enough for
the Department of Homeland Security to secure him again," Mystery
replied.
        "Actually, that was Lagneto... all I did was inject him with enough
Thorzine to kill a school of Orcas," Josh replied.
        "Lagneto?" she said.
        "yeah.."
        "Wow!   Too big name super villains... how did you deal with him?" she
asked.
        "I didn't."
        "I thought you were supposed to be one the good guys," Angelica said.
        "I'm not talking to you," Duplicator replied.  "You almost threw
ethics to wind to serve yourself."
        "But I didn't," she replied.
        "She's got you there pal," Nick replied.
        "Is there something going on there that I'm not..." Rick asked.
        "Later, dear," she said.
        "Before or after we play on the waterbed?" he chuckled.
        "So why did you just let Lagneto go?" Mystery said.
        "Because I'm one of the good guys.   It's more complicated than you
might think," Duplicator said.
        "A lot more than I imagined it would be," Mystery said.

        Carolyn walked up to everyone with her camera.
 
        "Say cheese!" Carolyn smiled.

        The camera flashed.   As the light cleared a teenaged girl in a
yellow and red jumpsuit with a picture of a cloud on it burst through
the window.

        "I am Ambience," she shouted.   "Who here wants to join my new super
team?"
        "Kid, do yourself a favor," Mystery replied.  "Go home."


                The End    






The Team and Me
By Jesse N. Willey


Five years?  Five years?   It's hard to believe it's been that long.  
Fifty issues later, and it is hard to imagine it's over.

Funny, looking at how this series has evolved and changed and how I've
changed.  Weirder still how one has affected the other.  Also, the
strange personal connection I've shared with some of these characters
for almost a fifth of my life.   Actually, two fifths because some of
these characters have their origins all the way back in 1993, but I
digress.

Rick Henkerton and Me

Rick is the first character in the series that I can honestly say is
an aspect of me.   Sure, he started out as Captain Marvel Jnr. parody
but somewhere along the way I lost touch with that.   During parts of
the Boy Redundant Lad series, I started exploring the ideas of a
disabled person trying to make it in a `norms only world'.   Many of
those tidbits are very thinly veiled attempts at release my own
insecurities.  Rick Henkerton's disabilities were obvious.  My biggest
problems are my learning disabilities.  Though the ones that came
later are ones I've never really gotten used to.  Rick Henkerton
loosing his ability to walk at age six was really Jesse N. Willey
loosing some of his hearing at age thirteen.   It took me along to
time to adapt to that.

 As much as unafflicted people `accept disabilities' emotionally, they
don't always understand what it really means.   I once had a teacher
who used an alphabetic seating chart.   Being a W, I had to sit in the
back of the last row.   I explained the hearing loss to her.   I even
showed her a copy of my Individual Education Plan, and everything it
entailed.    Basic standard stuff according to the Citizen's with
Disablities Act.  She claimed to need time to memorize everyone's
name.     After a week, she still did not move my seat.   My folks and
I tried going through the Learning Center coordinator and the
principal, and nothing happened.  The principal even reprimanded her. 
  I still didn't get my new seat.   Eventually, after two weeks, I
transferred to a different Geometry course. I got a seat where I could
hear and a tutor to catch me up.   It is this teacher was the basis
for the coach in the Boy Redundant Lad series.   (And to some extent,
my reinterpretation of Tom Russell's character, Carolyn Forge, in `A
Day in the Light'.)

 The funny thing I've found is, if I explain ADD to people in simple
terms like `being at a carnival, only it never closes, and you can't
leave' then at least they can have some frame of reference.   I
sometimes have problems describing my hearing loss.   The only words
that came to my mind when dealing with that teacher was `Listen you
dumb bitch, I'm hearing impaired.   You're too damn quiet to hear.   I
can't read your lips from this far away when you have me sitting
behind the fucking Empire State Building, which calls itself a varsity
basketball player.   I need to look over at person next to me's notes
to even have the foggiest idea what the hell you're saying.   Give me
a better seat or you'll have your day in court.  Buh-bye.'   Of
course, I didn't say that.   Rick wouldn't have said it till he till
met one man... Andrew Weinstein.

  Andrew Weinstein and Me

          Many people say I'm a living contradiction.   They aren't far off. 
I'm what they call GT/LD.  Gifted and Talent Learning Disabled.    It
is fairly uncommon, but I'm considered an even more rare find.  (I've
been written up in two case studies.)    Most GT/LD people's gifts lie
with numbers or spatial orientation with verbal skills unable to
advance much beyond an eighth grade level.   I'm about as far off from
that as you can get.   At the age of 10, they ordered a full-scale
psychology profile written up on me to get me into some gifted
program.    At that point in time I was reading on a level higher than
most college students.   (I still do, if you ask me.  It's not my
fault that Terry Pratchitt, Peter David and Robert Heinlien are
amongst the few `real' authors I read.)   My math scores were not much
beyond a third grade level.    With a lot of work, I still struggle
with basic geometry.  Aside from math I spent all of my high school
years, and some of my college years in an environment where I was sure
I was smarter that some of my teachers.  In fact, I knew I was smarter
than 60% of the people around me.   It was, to be put things
delicately, completely aggravating.

        Somewhere amongst my rage at stupid people sprung Andrew Weinstein. 
The somewhat reclusive, super genius, zillionaire, who wanted to make
the world a better place even if he had to stick a gun to everyone's
head to make it accept it.   A man who had maybe one or two shreds of
humanity left in him.    There were times when I just loved writing
this character.   There were other times when I felt afraid of him.  
That if I kept going in the direction I was headed in, that I was
going to end up like him, only without the money to provide
protection.  A man who lived with true love just out of reach, but he
let her go `for her own good'.   A man who stood in awe of... Lucas
Curry.


                Lucas Curry and Me

        John Fenimore (my co-writer on some of the issues of Patient Zero and
Absurd Lass) once said: "Take away the money, the family issues and
the musical talent, and this character is a blatant self insertion."

        Not quite.   I took one of my friend's basic histories and gave him
my personality by accident.   But that's not how this character
started.

        He actually began bubbling around in my head sometime in 1993, around
the time I lost my hearing.  This was also around the time I started
reading lots of comics.   I noticed a trend.   Daredevil was a blind
guy.  Xavier was paralyzed from the waste down.   I flipped through an
issue of Doom Patrol at a convention and discovered The Chief spent
time as a head in a jar.  A HEAD IN A JAR?   What kind of message is
that sending?   That if you can't see, you can risk your life for your
city.   If you can't walk, go be a civil rights leader your fellow
genetically oppressed.   If you're just a head in a jar, go save the
universe from slimy icky things.   If you can't hear, stay home,
cuddle up under some blankets and watch Leno?   So, I set out with
some artists to make things happen.   Lucas Curry was originally going
to be a super hero.   (Actually, he sort of was in an issue or two,
but I digress.)

        Why did I give him so much of my personality?  I didn't mean to.   I
wanted to play against the bad boy rock star type.  I was going for a
generally nice guy.   A pure-bred, well-to-do, not quite a boy scout,
Capra-corn archetype.   The fact that I posses some, but not all, of
those qualities is strictly coincidence.


        Ellie and Me

        As Tom Russell said about Carolyn Forge, I will finally admit.  Ellie
is my ideal woman.  She's smart, sensitive, good looking, a friend
first and lover second, and just a likely to engage the object of her
affection in a mind expanding argument than she is to hop into the
sack with him.

        It took me a long time to realize that is what I wanted.   Oddly
enough, I was only through writing that character that I realized it. 
Then I began to think such people do not exist.  That Ellie, much like
Dulcinea, was a product of a very horny and delusional mind.   They
exist all right.   It's those rare instances where you find them that
make it all worth it.

        Five years.   The more things change, the more they are different.   



        My Editors and Me

        Midway through the series, I finally got enough respect in this and
other writing communities that I didn't have to beg and plead for help
proof reading.  People would actually come to me.   So I had easy
access to people.   I thought it would be nice to say a little bit
about each one, as a way of showing my unending gratitude.

        Subreality's Rossi.   I first met her via comic book fan fiction.  
She was very good at what she did.  The only reason she didn't handle
the rest of the run was because she went on a long trip.   During the
trip I somehow generated a backlog of about four or five issues.    I
think I was on winter break at that point and practically chained to
my computer writing the whole time.    The advantage to Rossi was that
she had little to no contact with RACC itself.   This had little to no
effect on the dramatic moments in the series.    The moments of
comedy, those changed.   If a joke was funny, it was funny because it
was really damn well written.   If it fell flat with her, I knew it
probably wasn't funny.

        Tom Russell on the other hand, knows a lot about the LNH.   He is, in
a way, is The Team's crazy uncle.   Old Thor was there when I first
came up with the idea, and helped me get the series rolling.    When
Rossi left as proofreader, he was the logical choice to take her
place.   The one thing I can say about Tom is that sometimes I think
he wished he could be a co-writer.   There were occasionally scenes
that erked him ever so slightly.   He'd write back and say something
like: `Describe the underwear.   You can tell a lot about someone's
personality by their underwear.'   Most of the time, I would
invariably go along with it.   Some of the stuff I wrote just for
Tom's twisted form of pleasure turned out to be some really good
stuff.   Then he started vanishing for months at a time, only posting
stories and never replying.   Thus he was replaced by Martin Phipps.

        To be honest, Martin wasn't my first choice.   At first I
don't think he got what the series was about.  Two or three issues in,
I think he began to get it.   He also made a pretty strong effort to
integrate The Team closer into LNH continuity.   He was however, the
proofreader I thought I would never really co-write anything with.   
We got a long well, but he seemed a little strange to me.

       A few times during the course of Martin's proofreading, I would
write the story, then he'd respond.  I'd reply back, usually with an
explanation or wiseass comment.        This dynamic we developed as
writer and proofreader is essentially the same one we used as
co-writers for Flame Wars VI.   The only difference is that with
Martin onboard as a co-writer I could cut loose and do crazy things,
and everyone would think it was him.   I only admit this, because
certain parties actually thought my stuff was funnier.

            

  




  An Afterword
  By Martin Phipps 

Jesse asked me to say something about The Team.  Unfortunately, I
haven't read the series from the beginning.  Certainly the series got
better towards the end.  I'm not sure if it was because I had gotten
to know the characters better or if Jesse had fleshed them out more or
a combination of both.

There has been some debate as to whether The Team belonged in the LNH.
To me, the matter is moot because I've read very little net fiction
other than the LNH.  The general problem with net fiction is that
people are generally writing for themselves and, as a result, the
stories often aren't audience friendly.  I suppose it is for that
reason that The Team was often confusing to readers who started
reading half way through because Jesse, at least, understood where the
story was going and that was the only thing that really mattered to
the survival of the series, with sales not being an issue for net
fiction. To be honest, that was a problem with my early LNH stuff too:
I wouldn't describe all the details of a story because the scene was
playing out in my head and it was just too bad, really, if the reader
couldn't picture the same scene.  In that regard, The Team definitely
got much better towards the end with the motivations of the characters
more clearly explained and the settings more fully described.

What kind of stories do I see Jesse writing in the future?  Actually I
suspect he might want to end up doing TV because he seems interested
in combining soap opera type drama with convoluted plotlines.  His
writing doesn't seem to lend itself to self-contained stories that
could be adapted into motion pictures, for example.  I'm not sure if
he wants to do comics, a dying art form as it would appear to be;
hell, I'm not sure if he even wanted to do stories set in the
Looniverse, although I think it ultimately helped him to work with
other people rather than tell  stories in isolation.

As I said, I haven't read The Team from the beginning so I can't say
if  The Team has a definite beginning, middle and end.  Did the series
play out the way Jesse planned?  Is he satisfied with it?  Only Jesse
can say for sure.  How different would the series have been if the
stories had not been set in the Looniverse?  Again, that's a question
for Jesse to answer so I'll leave it up to him to consider and perhaps
even spell out should he chose fit to do so.

          A response
          By Jesse N. Willey

First off, I'd like to address those of you who think I have no sense
of humor.   Let me tell you a story about my friend Sir Micrometer. 
He's a six inch tall Knight who rides along on a sheep dog battling
all evil and whatnot.   One day, he got eaten by a dragon.  He started
pounding on his stomach, eventually, he ruptured the dragon's stomach
and he got vomited up and the dragon died.   But then this invading
army came, and Sir Micrometer just ripped them to shreds.   He's
pretty bashed up himself at this point.  To make matters worse, a
storm begins to set in.  So he hopped on his sheep dog, eventually
getting to this castle.   He asks to see the lord of the castle.  He
asks for lodging.  The lord says: "Well, I couldn't leave a knight out
on a dog like this."

There you have it folks, I told a joke in an issue of The Team.  
Happy now?  Actually, there were lots of other jokes.   Boy Band
leaders choking to death on his girlfriend's retainer while getting to
third base, all the stuff about cannibalism, the Enobi's obsession
with cows, Duplicator using his powers to cut down on soda costs, a
circus with no ringmaster, half of Absurd Lass's dialogue, Andrew
Weinstein's favorite movie being Frank Capra's `Mister Deeds goes to
Town' and lots of small insignificant things.   Most of the humor in
LNH's stories is more akin to Monty Python, Jay Ward cartoons, and pop
culture references.  The humor in The Team is dark, somewhat twisted,
and even to me, a little perverse.   If you find the actual stories to
be disturbing, you should see the notes for the stories I didn't
write.

Where do I hope to go?   Martin is right about TV.   It's not that I
like soap operaesque plots.   There is just an old adage I tend to
follow: `write what you know.'   Being a college student (a recovering
film major at that), most of my life is tangled up hormones, homework,
getting bothered by general pains in the ass, and somehow RPG/Movie
night and quality time with the girlfriend.  Sometimes, all at once.  
My stories are so messed up is because I'm trying to make them as
close to my real life as possible, and I lead a very messed up life.

I am writing a TV pilot.  It's surprisingly the exact opposite of The
Team.   Where The Team was dark and spooky with convoluted plots, this
series is a generally plotless kid's show.   That's all I'm willing to
say.

Would I write comics if given the chance?   Hell yeah.   Any of the
majors except for the one that sucks, so let's call just call them
Levarm.  As for whether or not I wanted to write in the Looniverse,
the answer is yes.   I wanted to add more of a dark side to it.   I
think I succeeded at that.  I had a bunch of left over characters from
other series I had done that I still had ideas for.  Somehow I got it
into my head to put them all in one series.   I didn't have a name for
the group though, because I couldn't think of a good one.  I started
bouncing ideas off Tommy Boy Russell, and at one point referred to
them as `The Team'.   Seven issues of Boy Redundant Lad, 50 regular
issues, three annuals, three secrete files, and at least four spin-off
miniseries later, here we are.

As for if the series came out the way I intended?  For the most part,
yes.   I had one or two other stories I could have told.   There are
various reasons I did not.  Perhaps someday I will.    The only
significant change to the series if it was not part of the Looniverse
is that scene at the end.   I promised everyone I would restore
Sig.ago when I was done, so I did.  However, I am happy with the
ending.  I would have broken my promise if I wasn't.   I think the
scene makes a bookend if you go back and read the Boy Redundant Lad
series issue where the group formed.

That's it, nothing more to see.  Go on home.  Scat!  Get out.  Leave. 
 Scram!



* (Lagneto and Killfile apparently met off panel during the Acts of
Violence storyline in LNH #69-71.)

Doctor Killfile created by Steve Limbrande and is public domain.
Lagneto created by Jef Kolodziej and reserved by Martin Phipps.  
Borrowed with permission. Deliah Joy Killfile,  Carolyn Forge-Coffee
and Terrence Coffee created by Tom Russell.  All other characters
created by Jesse N. Willey.      An  Afterword copyright Martin
Phipps.   All other material copyright Jesse N. Willey.