Protonic by Shayne Dark (Ottawa, Canada) Copyright (C) 2004, by Shayne Dark Here is another one from the archive. The basis for this story was a discussion on one of the presented NPCs in the Mutants and Mastermind's book. Protonic (copyright of whomever wrote the book) is a Superman type, but his description/personality just hit all the wrong buttons for me. Someone in our group commented that Thibor would hate him on general principles. They were right. Excerpt from Mutants and Masterminds (fair use reproduction) "He has more power than anyone alive. He can circle the Earth, stop a volcano from erupting, and put out three fires in three different countries all before breakfast. But Protonik, nuclear-powered scion of the super-hero age, is just one man. Sometimes he must choose between a mudslide in Bangladesh and a hotel fire in Cairo. Sometimes, he fails. Sometimes, good people die. At night, Protonik flies beyond the atmosphere and looks down at the tiny, fragile Earth. From space, the world appears so small, so simple, so peacefully blue. He knows it's an illusion, but the ritual grants him solace, keeps him from being overwhelmed. Under the light of a million stars, Protonik rests, preparing himself for tomorrow." Friday: 1600 IST Headquarters, Madrid, Spain "So tranquil. A Cerulean sphere floating in the vast star strung cosmos. It so refreshes my soul. Here I am free. Free from the guilt that even my magnificent powers, great as they are, are not enough to put a halt to all the evils that plague this world. Only here can I plead for the forgiveness of those souls I was unable to save. My world of the future no longer exists, but this Earth, this primitive collection of warring nations, greed and violence may yet become the world I once knew. If only I remain strong. I must. I swear this. I am Protonic. Last scion of the Twenty-Fifth century - and I shall not be found wanting. I shall overcome all challenges. I shall cradle this world to my breast as a mother cradles a newborn, protecting it from danger, and raising it to be the world that it deserves to be. With peace, prosperity and freedom for all!" "Every night?" Thibor turned the communicator off and handed it back. Bella Fuego nodded, her expression pained. "Yes." Her voice still held the delightful lilt of the small hamlets that surrounded Barcelona. "And before you ask, he deliberately leaves the communicator on. Just in case we need to reach him. You know, to save more lives. He is beginning to drive us all loco, morale is down." Thibor leaned back in his chair. Lieutenant Colonel Carmen Santos code name Bella Fuego of IST Barcelona would not call him without reason. At least on business matters. She still looked great, even into her forties. Parading around in spandex inevitably ensured that you spent a lot of free time in the gym making sure that everything remained taut and well toned, and Carmen certainly lived up to her spandex shaping responsibilities. Black hair with only the slightest trace of gray, café au lait skin and the strange, red eyes that seemed lit with the flames of her mutant powers. A true Spanish Spitfire, but age and experience had mellowed her temper somewhat. "Spouting bad prose in upper atmosphere is bad, but is hardly sort of thing to kill morale." Thibor watched as Carmen's eye flashed with anger and a wreath of flames rose from her skin. He knew the comment would set off her temper, but couldn't help it. She looked even better angry, and her control was good enough that she wouldn't set the building, or even her chair afire. "The bastardo!" Carmen raged, the flames leaping around her. "It isn't just that, and that is bad enough. Every time he talks to the media he goes on about what we weren't able to do. Even if we are a continent away! We stopped Eurostar in Milan, and he starts going off about people who died in a mudslide in Peru at the same time. We stop a bomber in Madrid and it's a soliloquy about the four that we didn't stop in the Philippines. The media loves him. Rather than an exciting story about what we have done, it is a double header. What we have done and what we haven't!" "Is having tried..." Thibor knew he wouldn't get to finish the sentence, but Carmen obviously had to vent plasma. "Talking to him?" Her voice rose again. "He listens politely and intently, just like a kindergarten teacher! You can see it in his eyes - poor twenty first century primitives, unable to grasp the pain and responsibility of being the last scion of the twenty-fifth century. Only he knows the pain of his solitary existence, only he knows the frustration of saving some lives when so many others are lost. And he's always so polite about it! The condescending, uptight, bastardo!" "Affirmative." Thibor watched Carmen's flames flicker as she fought to regain her composure. "Is wanting Mr. Perfect brought back down to earth?" "Si." The flames surrounding her disappeared. "Are you up to it?" "Oh yes." Thibor smiled wolfishly. "But is tough, so no promises." "No promises?" Carmen laughed aloud, a flicker of flame appearing around her as she did. "That sounds like you before you became engaged." "Ouch." Thibor acknowledged the hit with good graces. "Is true, but is changing times." "Si..si.." There was a slightly wistful look in Carmen's eyes. "Are you two planning on having children?" "Hard enough trouble planning wedding." Thibor admitted. "Besides, is having enough trouble with kids we have already." "That also is true." Carmen laughed again. "I wonder if we were such trouble twenty years ago?" "More like thirty and then some for me." Thibor admitted ruefully. "And am still trouble now. Is just fortunate that is having teammates who are even more trouble." "It is the same here." Carmen leaned back in her chair. "Radica insists on driving us all crazy, but at least it is a good kind of crazy; and Lady M has a bit of a chip on her shoulder, but I'll eventually beat that out of her. They are good kids, and will become great heroes if given the chance." "But is not getting chance because Protonic is on the job." Thibor rose and prepared to leave. "Wish me luck." "Good luck on the wedding." Carmen said. "That is new territory for you. You have dealt with asquerosos like Protonic before." 1640 IST Recreation Center, Madrid, Spain "Clap for the wolfman!" Wing Shah-Kung cried out as Thibor walked into the recreation center. "Visiting the old flame?" "Will tell her you said that Wing-Kong." Thibor's wide grin matched Shah-Kung's. "Is thinking will be very hurt." "She'd never hurt me." The short Chinese man threw an arm over Thibor's shoulder. Shah-Kung grinned widely as he led Thibor to the rest of his team. It was like him to grin a lot. Shah-Kung was odd, even by IST standards, which was saying a lot. A Chinese archeologist who gained his remarkable transformation powers on a Babylonian excavation, becoming a fifty foot Macaca Fuscat. Rather than return to his native China, where he would have been recruited to serve the government, he chose to remain in Europe. Several Chinese super agents had attempted to return him to his country, but convincing a fifty foot Japanese Macaque to go anywhere it doesn't want to go is a difficult task at best. IST agents in China had been able to smuggle most of Shah-Kung's family out before Chinese officials had descended on them to punish them for his transgression. Most of them. Shah-Kung smiled a lot, which was his only choice given the alternative. "Ooo! Old school." Radica circled Thibor and Shah-Kung like a demented electron. She brought out a camera and took several pictures. "Old man alert! Old man alert! Boring stories incoming!" "Radica." Thibor nodded an acknowledgement. "Radica-Radish!" She shot back in a lilting sing-song, her brightly dyed purple hair framing her face. "Mighty Daikon Hero! Da-da-da-dum!" "Very impressive." Thibor marveled at Carmen's restraint, Radica did not seem intent on driving people crazy, it was more like an automotive crash. Thibor was so impressed by her eccentric performance that he didn't see it coming. A large man grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks. "Protonic." Thibor said disengaging himself. "Handshake is fine." "A kiss on both cheeks is the proper greeting to the Romanii." Protonic explained calmly, as if Thibor didn't know of such things. "You are Romanii, so it is correct." Carmen was right on the money; portrait of an areshole; Six feet, two inches, brown, wavy hair, strong, almost Roman features, a heroic profile, the musculature of Charles Atlas and a costume that might well be the cutting edge fashion in the good old 25th century, but was downright retro for the curmudgeonly 21st. "Eeeew! Man kisses!" Radica snapped another picture. "Get a room! Get a room!" "So what brings you here?" Wing asked. "Tired of the cold weather, rain and fog?" "Is loving great British summer." Thibor shot back. "Am working on awesome tan. Will tell you all about it over a beer. You in?" "You buying?" Wing's eyes lit up, an epic drunk on someone else's tab was a rare occurrence on his team. "Yes." Thibor agreed. "How about rest of you?" "Yay! Beer-ru! Beer-ru! Beer-ru!" Radica ran in a circle jumping up and down several times and flashing her camera. "In Spain am old enough." "That is very kind of you to offer." Protonic intoned. "However, the vast reaches of space call to me and I must return to their starlit magnificence to refresh my soul." "That is no, for those of you who don't speak twenty-fifth century gibberish." Thibor said offhandedly. "But is not meaning it, as knows that it is great insult to refuse drink freely offered from Romani." "Of course." Protonic continued smoothly. "Though I am unaffected by your beverages." 1900 The Windmill Tavern, Madrid Spain Shah-Kung drained the last of his glass and waited expectantly for Thibor to fill it. Thibor sloshed it half full of wine and tracked the bottle back to his own glass, filling it until it overflowed. The crafty bastard was planning something. He wasn't drinking much, but kept refilling his own glass, to make it appear like he was. Wing's mind whirred away at the possibilities. Seducing Radica? Not likely, especially as she had left the table to engage in a bout of spirited karaoke. Wing briefly considered recording her performance, in case they ever had to break a siege. It was horrible and fascinating at the same time, but his full attention had to remain on Thibor on Protonic. Had Bella Fuego brought the werewolf in to try and take Protonic down a notch? It wouldn't be enough. Thibor was as tough as a ten-peckered owl, but against Protonic he would be like a schoolgirl in the ring with Mike Tyson. "Is killing me." Thibor slurred his words as he dropped an arm over Protonic's shoulder. "So you are last survivor of twenty- fifth century?" "That is correct." Protonic weathered the drunken assault with a calm nobility of spirit. "When my own world fell, it was decided that I would be sent to your past." "To use your phenomenal powers to help us become the society that you left behind." Thibor nodded with sincere, drunken gravity. "Am so very impressed, truly I am. Was a wonderful place am betting." "Yes." Protonic's chest pushed forward an inch. "Prosperity for all. Sickness and disease banished. Fresh, clean air. An enlightened humanity." "So why the fuck did they send you?" Thibor sipped at his glass. "Is really needing an engineer or scientists. Don't get me wrong, is great guy, phenomenal cosmic power and all that, but is hardly the one to bring twenty-fifth century to us." "It was decided that I should come." Protonic said stoically. "To bring the knowledge of what you can become." "And is great story." Thibor continued, "But hardly practical. Is knowing how to make all these things?" "No, but that is hardly important." There was a slight catch in Protonic's reply. "Sure it is, but is okay. Besides, is probably having enough trouble adapting to primitive twenty-first century technology. Not even worth learning from your perspective. Have to ask Radica how to operate DVD player." Thibor shrugged. "But is not about us growing in technology as is about us growing as people, right." "Yes. You are quite correct." Protonic seemed relieved that the subject had been dropped. "By showing you what you can become, offering guidance." "So everyone is a phenomenal as you are in twenty-fifth century?" Thibor asked innocently. "Well, no. My powers are great even there." Protonic admitted. "Probably for the better." Thibor granted. "So you are now here among the primitives. Showing us the way. Very noble. Is that why is so aloof from rest of us?" "You can't know what it is like." Protonic said with a quiet assurance. "To live with the knowledge that lives will be lost, no matter how hard you struggle." "Cry me a river." Thibor snorted. "We all deal with that every day." "It is different for me." Protonic shot back. Watching the exchange, Shah-Kung marveled at the reaction. The abrupt almost defensive answer was the first time someone had gotten a rise from Protonic. Someone would have to be ready to do crowd control if things went wrong. Fortunately The Windmill was located outside the city, so the collateral damage wouldn't be so great. Shah-Kung smiled at the setup. It wasn't fortunate at all. It was deliberate. "How can it be different?" Thibor scowled. "Oh that's right. We're primitives. No, you would not be so polite with primitives. Children. That is why you do not make meaningful contact with anyone around you. Is not seeing them as being truly responsible for themselves." "You have had too much to drink." Protonic's voice returned to his calm, kindergarten tones. "It is time to end this evening." "Yes daddy." The scorn dripped from Thibor's voice. "Are you going to tuck us all in. Prat. Am betting you had same problem in twenty-fifth century. Is not that your people were so advanced, it is that you are unable to relate to anyone on any level other than messianic god figure responsible for saving everyone. Can see why they sent you to us. That much self loathing and oh-so vocal, attention seeking, guilt mongering really grates after while." "Stop this." The edge had returned to Protonic's voice. "Stop this now." "Or what?" Thibor challenged. "A spanking? Get over yourself. Lose the guilt, find a nice girl, or even better, a bad one, get laid and connect on meaningful level with humanity." "This is going to descend to violence, isn't it?" Protonic said through clenched teeth. "You are goading me to violence. Go ahead. According to your file you do not have the strength to harm me. I shall stand against it." Thibor tossed the table out of the way, his wolfen form exploding outward. Protonic was absolutely correct, according to Thibor's file, he couldn't hurt him in a fair fight. What the file didn't mention was that Thibor didn't believe in a fair fight. Protonic could take a tank shell in the chest without harm, but Thibor wouldn't be stupid enough to match strength against strength with the nuclear powered scion of the twenty-fifth century. "Oooof!" Protonic doubled up as Thibor's foot slammed full force into his groin. His hands dropped down, clutching the injured area, exposing his throat to Thibor's next punch. Thibor grabbed the reeling, gagging hero by the hair and heaved, tossing him through the front window of the tavern and out into the fields beyond. "Ah-Gahh!" Struggling to his feet, Protonic coughed and gagged as he tried to draw breath through his injured throat. It was enough to draw a thin smile from Thibor. The man didn't need to breath, but was following an all too human reflex to the injury, the body panicking independent of the mind. Other reflexes remained as well, and the Marquis of Queensbury would look unkindly on their exploitation, but that didn't stop Thibor from treating the nuclear git's diaphragm like a football, blasting a trio of hard kicks just below the golden sunburst on Protonic's chest. The gag reflex was there to and a foul mixture of a moderately good red and some really good cheese spilled out, staining the immaculate uniform and the dusty grass. That would teach the Nuclear Powered Scion of Tomorrow about the dangers of social drinking and eating. "NoNoNoNo! Bad dog! Don't fight!" Radica ran from tavern, her hands digging in her Hello Kitty backpack. She brought out a small microphone that was connected to what appeared to be an American Speak'n'Spell. "Radica-Karaoke-Harmony-Generator! Daikon Song of Peace!" She announced flicking a switch and starting to sing. "All you need is love! Love is all you neeeeeed!" Her voice, already high pitched, was amplified to an ear-splitting screech that cut through Thibor's enhanced hearing like sharp knife though a brain pudding. Fortunately the attack was short lived, as the device itself was equally mortified by the performance, and shorted out in a shower of sparks and smoke. "Oh... F.." Thibor cut off the profanity before it issued. Protonic has vanished, leaving a sparkling trail of lights, which disappeared into the east. So much for the element of surprise. Protonic was about to paste him. Thibor's ears twitched, and he shook his head. Protonic moved faster than the speed of sound, by the time Thibor heard him it would be too late. He would come from the east or south. That way his sonic boom would not inconvenience the city dwellers. South. He would come from the south. This was going to hurt. Thibor faced East and deliberately raised his muzzle, as if sniffing the air. His peripheral vision picked up the flash, as Protonic rocketed towards him like a meteorite. Protonic was stronger than he was, faster and even more invulnerable. That brought a wide smile to Thibor's face. Protonic knew it too, in fact he was counting on it; which was just what Thibor wanted. "Feel my nuclear might!" Protonic flew straight at Thibor, his fists extended for a double punch to the werewolf's chin. Stronger. Faster. More powerful. Seven inches less reach. Thibor pivoted, his claws digging into the ground and smashed a straight right into the center of Protonic's face, driving the force of the nuclear hero's charge back into him. The impact was tremendous. Thibor felt his knuckles shatter, and shards of his radius and ulna shot out of his arm as it broke in three places; but he held his ground. The nuclear scion flew backwards, blood streaming from his nose and lips. Hanging in the air he raised a hand to his face as he realized that the copious blood was his own. "Nuclear eye beams!" It was obvious that Protonic wasn't going to get within arms reach of Thibor again. Bolts of burning plasma slammed into Thibor's abdomen, burning a fist sized hole completely through the werewolf. Thibor swayed. It was just his stomache, part of his liver and half his gall bladder. He could handle it, the wound was cauterized and he wasn't bleeding. Protonic wouldn't get a chance for another shot. "Parada! That is an order!" The cutting voice ripped across the battlefield. Bella Fuego, lit with the fire of her powers was hovering over the pair and angry expression fixed on her features. She landed between the combatants. "Just what do you think you're doing! You are IST operatives, not children." "Sorry." Thibor hung his head. Shah Kung had run down from the tavern to join them. "I expect just this sort of thing from you, Major Sawchyk and I will be informing your commanding officer of this incident. I'll leave it to her to decide how you should be punished." She turned to Protonic, who has returned to the ground. "But I expected better from you. Brawling with another IST agent." "He started it..." Protonic said. "He started it?" The flames around Bella Fuego flared and she poked Protonic in the center of his sunburst. "He started it! This isn't kindergarten. I don't care who started it." It was tough not to smile. Thibor forced his broken arm against the hole in his abdomen, using the pain to keep the grin off of his face. Carmen was really enjoying telling Protonic off. Thibor inhaled through his nose. Really enjoying it. Between spandex and natural pheromones there was no way she could hide it. "And what is this?" She poked a finger into the hole in Thibor's side, drawing a wince. "You used your nuclear eye beams? You used a lethal attack fuelled by the power of the very sun on a fellow IST agent?" "I was injured, and..." Protonic tried to explain. "It was tactically unsound to close.." "Injured?!?!" Carmen exploded in a further tirade. "According to his file he cannot hurt you. I cannot believe this! My office! Fifteen minutes! Be ready to explain and it had better be good!" "Shah-Kung." Bella Fuego turned away from Protonic, dismissing him. "Make sure the Major doesn't die on us, at least until Lieutenant Colonel Hoyle kills him." With a final glance in his direction she lit her flames and soared off into the sky. Protonic also vanished, leaving a sparkling trail in his wake. "Everyone gone?" Thibor asked. "Yes." Shah-Kung admitted. "Good." Thibor fell backwards, onto the ground. "Can die now. Ouch." "You are so lucky." Shah-Kung pulled out a bottle of wine and poured a stream of crimson liquid into Thibor's gaping muzzle. "If Carmen hadn't shown up he could have really hurt you..." "If is saying so..." Thibor gargled through the wine. "Clever bastard." The shoe dropped and Shah-Kung smiled widely, he raised the bottle in a salute and took a long drink from it. "Luck had nothing to do with it." "No." Thibor admitted, pressing the fragments of his arm bones back into place. "But will have to explain it to Cammy tomorrow. Is going to be needing luck for that." "It won't be that bad." Shah-Kung grabbed Thibor by the other arm and hoisted him back to his feet. "What is the worst she can do, rub your nose in it?" "That wouldn't be so bad." Thibor grinned wolfishly, throwing his good arm around Shah-Kung's shoulder. "Is seeing his face when Carmen tore into him. Is beautiful thing." "I wasn't looking at his face." Shah-Kung admitted. "Priorities." "Oooh! Get a room!" Radica jumped out from behind a bush, her camera flashing away. Here eyes were drawn to the rapidly healing hole in Thibor's abdomen. She swayed for a moment, a green pallor rising on her features. Thibor couldn't find the strength to dodge. "Sorry." She admitted a moment later. "All empty. More beer- ru. No more fighting, 'kay?"