Crossover Earth '98
Prologue:
With a popping and crunching of gravel, the Ford Thunderbird glided down the narrow dirt road. Long and low, the car's sleek lines and glossy black paint job spoke of modifications that had never occurred to anyone at the manufacturing plant. Coming to a halt next to the blackened remains of a Texas state patrol car, the car's engine died away to a low purr before quitting altogether. For a long moment there was nothing but silence in the clearing, silence broken only by the occasional twitter of a passing bird.
Finally, with a slight creak, the driver's side door opened and a man stepped out. He wasn't particularly tall, although his broad shoulders and imposing manner gave one the impression of a greater height then was actually there. He face was stern and lined with oncoming age, with long black hair tied into a ponytail. His suit was regulation black, as were his sunglasses, shoes and sidearm. His name was Jagger, although most people on the force simply referred to him as 'Jay'.
A moment later the passenger door opened, and Jay's partner stepped out. She was only a little shorter than Jay himself, with deeply tanned skin and a thick mop of red hair held in place by a broad black headband. Her name was Kei, and she too wore the same regulation black suit, although hers was cut in such away to emphasize a sizable bust.
"Well?" Kei asked, leaning on the roof of the car.
Jay shrugged, glancing at the burned out police car and three -- no only two -- bodies sprawled on the ground. "Looks like NORAD was right... Get on the horn, call in a containment team pronto, we want this out of here by nightfall."
"Gotcha," Kei dropped back inside the car, the radio coming to life with a crackling hiss.
Taking a few steps away from the car, Jay gazed at the elongated diamond shape that lay at an odd angle in the blackened and blasted Texas soil. "So..." he whispered under his breath, "they've finally come."
ENTER THE MONKEY
MICHAEL SURBROOK
Somewhere in Texas:
It was hot. Damn hot. Far too hot for Kayli's liking. She preferred more temperate climates, like the time she'd been assigned to the world that seemed to have been non-stop forests thick with ferns and moss. That had been a great place to fight. Her worst assignment had to have been some dusty backwater with two suns, where most of the population lived underground. She'd been hired to whack some slug-like crime lord, a job she'd accomplished as quickly and efficiently as possible, the sooner to get off the damn dustball. Now, it looked like she was stuck in the same sort of environment. Dust, gravel, yellowish grass and only the occasional tree to break the monotony. To top it off, she was getting thirsty... hungry too.
Coming to a halt, Kayli stared for several long moments at a long, low building to her left. There was a large sign of some sort out front, which she couldn't read... yet, as well as more of those primitive ground cars. Tail twitching nervously back and forth, she sniffed the air cautiously. It smelled a lot like food, what ever it was. Wiping ineffectively at her harness, Kayli ran her hands through her hair and decided to go inside.
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11:00 A.M.
It's a common theme in bad fiction that the arrival of any stranger in a bar immediately
makes the whole bar go quiet. This was a load of bunk as Jeff Tibbets, proprietor of
Dell's Tavern would be more than happy to tell anyone who cared to listen. People got
better things to do than stare at the front door to his place inspecting every single
visitor. So... when he heard the front door open, and everyone in his place did go quiet,
Jeff decided he should really look up from the glasses he was stowing and take a look.
A woman stood in the door. No... not quite. Most of the women Jeff had ever seen didn't have gray skin, or black-furred tails that swayed back and forth in an almost menacing fashion. Most women didn't wear skin-tight black bodysuits and white plate armor either, unless, of course, they came from LA, New York or some other big city.
Stepping inside, Kayli almost breathed a sigh of relief. She was out of the damn sun, and the building had some sort of environmental controls, making it much cooler inside then out. She could definitely smell food, not to mention the unmistakable tang of alcohol. This may not be Cyn Station, but it was good enough.
Jeff watched the woman approach the counter with open amazement. All he could think was 'she sure ain't from around here...' where, as he would later learn, was one hell of an understatement. The woman stopped at the far end of the counter and took a seat, giving the rest of the patrons a cool appraisal as she passed. Her expression seemed to indicate a slight contempt for what she saw.
Hastily putting a glass down, Jeff stepped over to where the woman sat. "What can I getcha?" he asked in a friendly tone.
The woman didn't answer, but simply stared at him, tapping a button on the side of some object she wore of her left ear. The was a low whine and a transparent lens flipped into place over her eye. She then tapped her ear again.
"Oh... you gotta hearing aid?" Jeff gave the woman what he hoped was a disarming grin, "No problem; I said 'what can I get you'?"
The women stared at him for a moment and then glanced over at where Floyd had returned to his ham sandwich and beer. She then pointed at his plate and glass and then at herself.
"Can't talk? S'okay, I understand." Jeff hurried off, a nagging suspicion forming in the back of his mind.
Sitting back in her stool, Kayli glanced around the diner again. There were maybe a half-dozen people inside, all of whom looked (to her) relatively normal and inoffensive. Kayli gave her head a slight shake and turned back to the counter, it never ceased to amaze her how alike most alien races were. At times she was almost ready to believe in the theories that most of the races of the galaxy were descended from a common ancestor, which was a much better theory than that stupid parallel evolution crap. Of course, she had to admit, such cross-racial similarities made it a lot easier to find an acceptable bedmate at times.
"Here ya go," Jeff said cheerfully as he slid a plate in front of the woman and cracked a fresh bottle of Lone Star. "I hope you like it."
The woman didn't answer, but immediately began to wolf down the sandwich, only pausing to swallow great draughts of beer.
"Yeah.." Jeff stepped back to the far side of the counter and gave the strange woman a quizzical stare. She didn't seem to speak the language, was dressed real strange, looked even stranger... Jeff had to wonder what was with the woman. He was willing to lay serious odds that she was some kind of superhero... he was also willing to bet she didn't have anything close to an American dollar. Which meant getting her to pay for her food, was going to be difficult. Jeff then paused and thought further for a moment.
Back at his place, Jeff had a shelf full of videotapes. Most had titles like When Nature Attacks or Great Car Chases Vol IV, but one was labeled Metahuman Madness and it featured newsreel footage from the last 30 years of all sorts of superhero fights. And Jeff took a moment to reflect on exactly what was on that tape... a tall white-haired woman dressed in a gray cloak, crushing an armored car just by looking at it; a man dressed in archaic armor, with a wild mop of hair summoning a great storm and commanding bolts of lighting; a towering American Indian, his long black hair whipping about his shoulders, his body a roadmap of burn scars, lighting up the sky with bolts of pure plasma; a 16- year-old girl, all blonde hair and a big smile, bending steel I-beams with her bare hands. Aw hell, as long as she didn't wreck the place, he was willing to let her have all she wanted.
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11:45 A.M.
"More?"
"Enh?" Jeff looked over. "Did... did you just say something?"
The woman tapped her empty bottle. "More."
"Sure... uh... you wait right there!"
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12:00 P.M.
Well, Kayli had to give this mudball 'Earth' one thing to it's credit. It sure had good
food and pretty decent beer.
"Yo, Jeff!"
"Yeah Ron?"
"What the fuck is that at the end of the counter?"
"Uh.. that's... that's..." Jeff paused a moment in confusion, what was her name? "Don't you know nuthin' Ron? That's a superhero!"
"What kinda fuckin' superhero has a tail?"
"Heh... you wanna know so bad, you ask her!"
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12:15 P.M.
"More beer."
"Whoa! Two words!" Jeff grinned, "You're picking up quick there."
Sweeping away the empty bottle, Jeff popped open a third Lone Star and set it in front of the woman.
"Uh... if you don't mind my askin', you gotta name?"
The woman digested that one for a moment, draining half the bottle in one long swallow. "Kayli," she said flatly when she finally came up for air.
"Kale?"
"Kay-Lee."
"Kayli. Got it."
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12:45 P.M.
"pssst.. Jeff?"
"No need to whisper Ben, she ain't gonna bite your head off."
"Yeah, but uh... you sure that's a superhero?"
"Yeah... why?"
"She kind a looks like somethin' offa "Star Trek", y'know?"
"So?"
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1:15 P.M.
"Another beer... please."
"Hah! Three words."
"Very funny."
Jeff blinked. Kayli was starting to speaking in full, if short, sentences. What was she?
"Here you go." Jeff watched as Kayli began to work her way through her.. fifth? beer. "Hey, Kayli, can I ask you a question?"
Pause, drink, look. "Yes."
"Are you a superhero?"
Blink. Blink, drink. "What is 'superhero'?"
Man, she sure had a funny accent. Kinda purred her p's and r's. "Uh, lemme show ya." Turning, Jeff picked up a remote and pointed at the nearby TV. A few moments later he had tuned in MWN, the 24-hour metahuman channel. "That."
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2:15 P. M.
"Jeff."
"Hey, you got my name, cool!" Jeff gave Kayli a broad grin and another beer.
Kayli grinned right back. Most everyone she'd seen so far looked to only be good as reentry shielding, but this Jeff guy was alright in her book. And he kept her pretty well supplied with beer and sandwiches. She'd have to make sure not to wreck his place too bad if a fight started.
"How much money does a superhero make?"
"Ahh..." Damn, she's gone from no English to coherent speech in three hours! "Well.. as far as I know, superheroes don't get paid. They kinda do it outta the goodness of their hearts."
<snort> "That's stupid."
"Uh..." Jeff wondered where this was going to lead. "Uh... so what do you for a living then?"
Kayli grinned in a manner that Jeff found less than friendly, "I'm a mercenary, I kill people for a living."
"oh."
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3:30 P.M.
"Kayli?"
"Yeah, Jeff?"
"Can I ask you a serious question?"
"Go right ahead."
"Where are you from? Really?"
Kayli gave Jeff a long look before finally pointing at the ceiling. "Out there somewhere. I don't remember where I was born exactly, it's been awhile."
"Sheeeeiiit..." Jeff blinked in surprise, "You're from outer space?"
Extending her arms out top either side, Kayli slowly floating towards the ceiling, lighting up the empty diner with two glowing spheres of energy that formed in the palms of her hands. "Yes..." she laughed, spinning slowly in a circle as her tail lashed back and forth, "I'm an... uh..."
"Alien?"
"Yup."
"I see..." Jeff looked up his face panic stricken, "Dammit Kayli, get down here before someone sees you!"
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3:45 P.M.
"One please."
"Sure thing, Kayli."
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4:45 P.M.
"One please."
"Sure thing, Kayli."
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5:45 P.M.
"One please."
"Sure thing, Kayli."
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7:00 P.M.
Trouble.
Jeff just knew there was going to be trouble. Normally he would have expected something like this on a Friday or Saturday, but not in the middle of the week. A half-dozen members of some Hell's Angels chapter had just decided to grace Dell's with their presence, wonderful.
There were six of them, all leather jackets and denim vests and blue jeans and big shit-kicker boots. Add in the usual assortment of chains, zippers and knifes and you had an accident waiting to happen. Naturally, the sight of a gray-skinned woman -- with a tail even -- dressed in a skintight black jumpsuit and white armor was far more than they were able to resist.
After collecting their beers, the lot of them clumped over to a table and dropped bonelessly into the chairs. Immediately they started a none-to-quiet or subtle conversation concerning the woman, her body, her tail, how good she would be in the sack and if she had a gag reflex. As for Kayli, she seemed either oblivious or, more likely, ignored them, although Jeff noticed her tail had begun to twitch more frequently.
Finally, one of them encouraged with a few comments and rude gestures stood up and made his way to the end of the counter. Jeff decided to intercept before anything bad happened.
"Friend, I wouldn't do that if I was you," he said in a conversational tone.
"Yeah? Why the fuck not?"
"'cause I think that's an honest-to-god superhero and I'm willin' to bet she can wipe up the lot of ya with one hand."
"That so?" The biker scowled. "Fuck superheroes."
Turning his back on Jeff, the man then dropped his hand on Kayli's armored shoulder. "Hey..."
*crack*
Jeff blinked and almost dropped the glass he was holding. One moment Kayli had been watching to tube, the next she's got the biker by the wrist... his now broken wrist. Looking up at the man's pain-filled face she gave him a slight smile. <-----> she said quietly, before backfisting him across the floor and into a table.
The result was, predictably, chaos. Most of the patrons stared at the biker, curled up on the floor holding his arm and trying to moan through a broken jaw, while the rest quickly beat a hasty retreat out the door. The biker's buddies, meanwhile, stared at their friend with dumbfounded amazement.
Finally, one of them turned to look where Kayli still sat on her stool. "Woman or not," he growled wrapping a length of chain around his fist, "she's gonna spit teeth."
Some people, Jeff decided, were just too dumb to know better.
As the five men pushed aside tables and chairs in their haste to get at the woman who had broken one of their number with apparent ease, Kayli slipped out of her chair and assumed a stance that reminded Jeff of the sort of things one would see on Saturday Kung Fu Theater. He almost felt sorry for the five bikers... almost.
Staring at the five men, Kayli felt her head begin to pound as the thrill of battle kicked in. Her vision narrowed and developed a familiar reddish tinge. Taking a deep breath, she spared Jeff a glance. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't wreck his place, which meant she was stuck with only using her hand-to-hand fighting skills. Kayli grinned, this should be fun.
As the lead biker stepped forward, Kayli unleashed a high arcing spin-kick that snapped the man's head around with a pop. Dropping down into a crouch, her body a blur, Kayli then swept the man's legs out from under him, flipping him through a nearby table. Tableware flew in all directions.
As she rose back into her stance, the biggest of the bikers managed to wrap his arms around her in a bearhug. "I got her! I got her!" he shouted repeatedly.
The biker with a chain-wrapped fist then stepped forward and delivered three lighting fast punches to Kayli's armor-plated middle. There was an audible crunch with each impact. Kayli looked almost bored.
Kayli gave the man an amused glance. "Is that all you've got?" she asked before shrugging her way out of her attacker's encircling arms with as much effort as Jeff might have used to pop open a bottle of beer.
Chainfist was the next to go. Kayli reached out, grabbed his head and slammed her knee into his face with a crunch of bone and a spray of blood. A quick elbow smash sent him to the floor choking and sputtering.
Turning around, Kayli uttered a squawk of surprise as a chair was shattered across the side of her head. Stumbling to one side, she threw up one arm to block the next strike, and then delivered three quick kicks to put her attacker down and out.
This left two men. One was a thin rangy fellow with a knife, the other the broad shouldered man who's grip she'd broken earlier. Kayli looked at the two men with a sour expression, pulling the shattered remains of her scouter away from her ear. She'd let herself get cocky, and now she could forget any chance of learning anymore of this dirtball's languages. Tossing the wreckage on the floor, Kayli slowly cracked her knuckles.
"C'mon," she hissed, gesturing to the two men.
Exchanging a quick glance, the two men nodded and started to circle their target. Kayli responded by crouching low, her arms held out from her body, her tail wrapped tightly around her middle.
Kayli slapped aside a knife thrust, and then caught a slow haymaker on her right forearm. Swinging her arm around in a tight circle, she twisted the big man's arm out of the way, and then delivered a crunching left to his jaw, dropping him like a sack of wet cement. Pulling her shoulder back, she then twisted her whole body into a blindingly fast spinning back kick that sent the knife user into the counter hard enough to rattle dishes and topple glasses.
Dusting her gloved hands together, Kayli looked over at Jeff and shrugged. "Sorry," she said, with a distinct lack of sincerity.
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Epilogue:
Maximilian Rocatansky, Texas Highway Patrol, stared at his notepad and shook his head. Two corpses, one man in critical condition and three more who all looked like they'd gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson. His suspect? A gray (or black) skinned woman, dressed in a black (or dark blue) costume with white (or silver) gloves, boots and body armor. This woman was supposed to stand anywhere from 5'6" to eight feet tall, had black hair (at least they agreed on something) and may -- or may not -- have a tail. Oh... and she was a superhero. Just what he needed. Sheriff Root still hadn't fully recovered from the aftermath of the last superhero visit to this part of Texas.
Officer Rocatansky's musings were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the lot of Dell's Tavern. Looking up, he spotted the low, sleek lines of a Ford Thunderbird rolling across the crushed gravel lot. It halted next to his patrol cruiser and, much to his surprise, a black-suited woman, with tanned skin, bright red hair and an amazing body got out.
"Yo," she called, producing a badge, "I'm going to need to see any and all eyewitness accounts on your little domestic disturbance here."
Flipping his note pad closed, Max shook his head. It looked like all the wierdos were out tonight.