by Scott Bennie

"And once Armature had seen through the Unbeliever’s disguise, he made short work of him. Of course he made short work of everyone in those days. Even Gog-Magog the Destroyer. He was 311 feet tall, and that fight only took fourteen seconds."

"You had a stopwatch?" Lightstar wondered.

Tammy Taylor gave the earnest young telepath a questioning look. Mark Battle took a big sigh and smiled gamely, reminding himself that it was his idea to invite the reporter along with him for the ride. Tammy registered the discomfort, smiled, stroked her grey hair, and began to think of another Armature story.

"So how many times did you see Armature in action?" Lightstar asked, not entirely certain he wanted to get the answer in as much detail as the retired reporter would give it.

"More than I can count." Tammy shook her head. "But that was the old days. Now there’s a new breed of superheroes in town. Like you guys."

"I ain’t a superhero." Mark Battle protested.

"Well, for a non-superhero, you’ve certainly led an interesting life for the last year or so." Lightstar stated.

"Is that so?" Battle’s eyes narrowed.

"It certainly is." Lightstar said. "Cronos, Mastiff, Skein, the Mockery Brigade, Porcupain…"

"They were just jobs." Battle protested.

"You’re lying." Lightstar said. "I can feel the intensity you felt when I mentioned Mastiff. That’s not a job. The scar from that one runs deep."

Mark took a deep breath. "I suppose I needed first hand proof that you’d be able to do the job." He paused and gave Lightstar a dirty look. "What else does your telepathy tell you about me?"

"You don’t want me to go there, Battle." Lightstar said.

"Go ahead." Battle shrugged.

"Fine." Lightstar looked at him deeply. Battle took the telepathic glare without flinching - a rarity, in Lightstar’s experience, and one which earned the bounty hunter some respect. "You’re enjoying being a superhero too much. You had always wanted to avoid it, but you started targeting villains because you didn’t think anyone else was doing the job, and now you feel trapped in the role. You want to cure Armature because you see him as a magic bullet, a miracle solution to the supervillain problem that will allow you to back out of superheroing and get back to bounty hunting. Before you become so used to being a superhero that you’re going to start shopping around for tights."

"Yeah?" Mark said, hiding any displeasure with a smile and a shrug.

"Yeah." Lightstar said, mocking him slightly. "And you’re looking at Armature as the ultimate challenge. You grew up hearing stories about him. The last two generations of superheroes have felt inadequate in comparison to him. Now you want to see if everything that’s been said about him is true."

"Can’t argue there." Mark said. "I guess this is the fight for the heavyweight title. We’ll see what kind of a palooka I am."

"You don’t stand a chance." Tammy Taylor interrupted. The two men stopped and looked at her. "Just because I’m hitting sixty doesn’t mean I’ve lost all my brains. I’ve seen films of you fighting, Mr. Battle. And I saw Armature in action. If this is the real Armature - if he’s operating at even half of his previous level - he’ll mop the state with you."

"Cool." Battle smiled. He noted the police barricade, flashed his paperwork, and went through the lines. "Okay, we know our roles. I’m gonna go mano-o-mano against the big guy. Tammy, you’re the best expert I could find on Armature; you’re going to use this surveillance crap I rented to look at Armature during the fight and see if he’s the real deal. Light Socket, you’re going into Armature’s mind during the fight to see if he’s mind controlled and if he is, you’ll do what you can to break him free."

"Check." Lightstar said. "Except for the Light Socket part."

"The goal ain’t to beat this guy up. Unless he is an impostor, in which case he deserves to get the crap knocked out of him for screwing over a good man’s name."

"Battle." Lightstar said. Mark turned abruptly at Lightstar’s authoritative tone, which rang telepathically for added emphasis. "Don’t get carried away. If this is Armature, you could get seriously hurt or killed."

Mark smiled. "I know the risks." He looked at his shotgun. "This won’t work. Although I could empty it into him, then throw it at him in frustration when the shot bounces."

"It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened." Tammy Taylor said.

It was a dull yellow planet, broad fields of cut grain and corn. Calves, awaiting the slaughter, grazed unknowingly in pastureland, not knowing the inexorable force of destruction that had come, an alien invader landing on a Kansas farm, a gift of destruction to the planet Earth.

You are doing well, the voice within Armature said. For a beginning.

Armature continued his slow walk. His search for enemies.

Mark Battle was flying low. The portacamera was tied tightly to his shoulder, giving Tammy and Lightstar a front row seat of the action.

"He’s gotten older…" Tammy gasped at the first sight of the old hero.

"We all do." Lightstar said. "Well, maybe not Captain Infinity."

"His hair looks good long, with that touch of grey. And those eyes… those almond eyes. Most beautiful eyes in the world."

"If you say so, ma’am." Lightstar said. He looked at Armature as he made his slow walk across the fields. There was deadness in his face and in his movement, but Lightstar couldn’t see it - he was too busy looking at Armature, the god. "What rough beast…"

"What’s that?" Tammy asked.

"Just remembering a poem." Lightstar sent out a telepathic signal. "How are you doing, Battle?"

"Forty-five seconds to contact." Mark responded. He scrutinized the superhero. The costume was ragged, the cape tattered, but it made the superhero look even more impressive, like Doc Savage getting his costume shredded. He was 6’4", a couple of inches taller than Mark (as tall as Chariot) and he was as thickly built as the bounty hunter. "It looks like he’s put on some muscle since the last photos of him were taken." Battle reported.

"He always had a barrel chest." Tammy said.

"That’s not a barrel chest. That’s a second ass." Battle remarked. "When footage from this fight gets to San Francisco, half the population’s gonna drop dead from terminal hard-ons."

"Has anyone ever told you that you’re a real charming guy?" Lightstar shook his head.

"I don’t think so. I wonder why?" Mark grinned. He landed about thirty feet in front of Armature. "Hey Armature! Wanna fight?" the bounty hunter shouted at one of the most respected men in human history.

"That’s real diplomatic, Battle." Lightstar said.

"Reverse psychology." Battle stated. "So far all the people have come up to him with olive branches and lips puckered to kiss his ass, and gotten their clocks cleaned."

"That’s just self-justification." Lightstar snorted. "You forget I’m a telepath."

"Aw shucks." Battle mocked, and then he looked intensely at Armature. Armature was moving toward him slowly, deliberately. Mark noted the deadness in his eyes. He backed up, matching Armature’s pace. "Hey Armature, how’s it going? I’m the new generation of superhero on this berg. What do you think?" Armature said nothing, but continued his advance. "You know, you’d kick my ass if you could walk a little faster. What’s the matter? Whatever made you the world’s strongest zombie isn’t willing to move those superpowered feet a little faster?"

"I’m not reading any responses to your jibes, Battle." Lightstar reported.

"You inside his head, Light Fixture?" Mark responded.

"Uh yeah."

"Anybody home?"

"Someone’s here. It’s a telepathic control, but a kind I’ve never encountered before…"

"Not demonic possession?" Mark asked. "Or drug induced hypnosis?"

"Don’t think so." Lightstar opined.

"A riddle, wrapped inside an enigma." Mark noted. "Screw this crap, let’s just get it on."

Mark charged Armature, catching him in the ribs with a fist, and a second punch to the jaw. Neither made any visible impact on Armature’s progress.

An Enemy. Armature thought. A noisy one too.

Armature gave a casual backhand that sent Mark flying fifty meters into the air, stunning him. He landed in a beautiful arc thirty meters from Armature’s path. The world’s strongest superhero kept on walking as if the air itself were a more dangerous opponent.

"That sure looked like Armature." Tammy Taylor said, reviewing the videotape recording of the blow. "Look at that. The foot position is classic Armature. And the backhand is identical to the one he used against Midnight Cain back in ’69."

"You okay, Battle?" Lightstar asked.

Mark rose slowly. It was one thing to get slammed - but none of his punches seemed to even faze the mightiest man on the planet. Battle checked the communications equipment - still working. "Lightstar, did he even notice that shot to the ribs?"

"Let’s put it this way, Battle. If you do become a superhero, and you keep fighting like this, you may as well call yourself Speed Bump."

Mark sighed, checked his jaw, cheekbone, and teeth. He decided to wait until the X-Rays -- besides, the fight wasn’t over yet. "Did you make any other great discoveries, Light Bright?"

"No. I got distracted by something." Lightstar responded. "Actually, I did get some good telepathic impressions. I think I could help him break free of the mind control if he wanted it. But he doesn’t. Somehow, he thinks what he’s doing is justified."

"Great." Mark moaned. "We got to get him talking. We’ve got to do something that will trigger an emotional response. Break him out of his shell."

"You’re crazy." Tammy gasped. "If you do that, Armature could kill you."

"You’re half right, Ms. Taylor." Lightstar said. "He’s crazy. But I don’t think Armature wants to kill anyone. He didn’t kill Zephyr. And I’m sensing he doesn’t want to hurt any innocents."

"Excuse me ladies, I got a fight to finish." Mark said, getting off the ground and getting airborne. He’d been hit bad - his right eye was beginning to swell shut. That hadn’t happened for quite awhile.

Armature was continuing his advance, though no one knew where he was advancing to, not even Armature. Mark put himself directly in his path. "Okay, now that we’ve introduced each other to each other’s fists, how about explaining what you’re doing?"

Armature continued walking, grabbing Battle by the shoulder, and casually throwing him to the side. It was a casual throw that sent Battle flying forty meters into a pile of threshed grass. Mark spouted some obscenities.

"He’s too strong for you, Battle." Lightstar said.

"Can you get into my brain, and step up my adrenaline and endorphin production?" Mark asked. "If I can find some way to boost my strength and toughness…"

"I’m not a neurologist." Lightstar countered.

"Damn!" Battle spat. "I hate it when I feel like I’m out of my league. Oh well, let’s find another way…."

Mark flew behind Armature carefully, caught him from behind, put him into a full nelson, and began to fly upwards with him.

Armature barely noticed the attack. He shrugged, and Battle was unable to maintain his grip. Armature spun around, and found Battle slugging him in the jaw, a resonating force field around his fist, a vibrational attack that could pierce anything. For the first time since his return to Earth, Armature actually felt something. He barely felt it, but he did feel it.

Armature did not hesitate when he heard the voice. He grappled in mid-air with the blond muscleman. Mark attempted to spin and escape Armature’s grip, but it was like a six year old trying to escape an NFL linebacker. Armature easily subdued him. He stretched Battle over his knee, in a backbreaker, and began to descend.

Mark realized that when Armature landed, the shock of the landing could snap his spine. Nasty attack, he’d have to remember that one for Mastiff… Mark used his telekinesis to spin Armature and himself in mid-flight. Armature landed before he could correct his descent, landing hard on top of Battle. Mark was stunned. Armature grabbed him by his shirt scruff, and hit him with a hard, jaw-cracking punch. Mark was unconscious.

Battle… Battle… Lightstar was prodding him telepathically. Mark mustered himself; his right eye was completely swollen shut and he had a concussion. Mark rose to his feet, extremely wobbly.

You can’t be serious. Lightstar said, realizing what Battle was about to do next.

"I don’t quit, Lighthouse." Mark snapped, but as he said it, he realized that Lightstar was right. "I saw him flinch when I hit him with the resonating punch. If I push myself hard - and get real lucky - I might be able to get in a couple of shots that will register. Maybe that will distract him from whatever’s controlling him, give you a chance to do something."

"It won’t work." Lightstar said. "Trust me on this. Fighting’s not the answer. I think violence only strengthens whatever’s got their hold on him."

"Violence." Mark sighed. "We’ve tried force and we’ve tried reason. There’s one more thing I got to try."

"What’s that?" Tammy asked.

"Honesty."

It took an effort for Mark to get airborne again. He made a beeline for Armature, ignoring Lightstar’s mental protests. He put himself directly into Armature’s path again. He had rarely felt as he did now, seeing that invincible juggernaut closing on him. One good punch could put him in a coma, or kill him. "Come and get me!" Mark shouted.

Armature advanced at his same slow, deliberate pace. Mark matched it with backpedalling. "That’s right." Mark said, arms extended to his side. "We’ve got thousands of people dead in New York City, we’ve got martial law, abuse of civil rights, and you’re just going to walk around destroying things because you don’t have the balls to resist whatever voice is in your head. There are millions of people who need your help, and you’re just gonna casually stroll around and perform some vandalism. If you’re really so concerned about innocents, you’d help them, not destroy everything they’ve built."

Armature continued to walk, his eyes fixed in a half-glaze, half-intense stare. "Did you know that you got cultists? There are some nutcases who think that because you’re on your Eve of Destruction tour of Kansas, the whole world deserves to be destroyed? Does that make you proud?"

It was obvious to Mark that Armature wasn’t listening to him. He took a deep breath, charged Armature, avoided a lightning fast swing, and grabbed him by the ears. With telekinesis, he slammed a message directly into his ear drums, through his ear canal, hitting his brain like the sound of an exploding rocket..

So help me, Armature, you’d better have a damn good reason for what you’re doing, or I swear I’ll find some way to give you the ass kicking you deserve.

It is a distraction. The voice within said. Deal with him, and move on. Armature pried him off easily, grabbed him by the skull, and slam dunked him casually into the turf. Mark was out for the count.

Mark was prone in the wheat field, rising from a two inch high depression that Armature had made. He groaned, tried to get to his feet, but Lightstar held him back.

"I forbid it. You’re not a match for him physically," the telepath stated. "No one on this planet is. Deal with it."

Mark groaned. "Did that last thing I tried do anything? Did it even register?"

"He stopped for an instant, but even his surface thoughts are cloudy." Lightstar said.

"Oh well, at least he didn’t kill me." Mark said. "My head feels like a hangover without the good part that came before."

"Unfortunately, we still have the same basic problem we had before." Lightstar said.

"It’s worse than you think." Mark said. "With everything that’s gone down in New York, people are really edgy right now. I’d expect air strikes in a week or so. When the government starts attacking Armature in earnest, who knows what he’ll do? And if he manages to shrug off those attacks without responding, they might even decide to drop a nuke on him."

"That’s paranoia." Taylor stated.

"The government doesn’t have much faith in heroes right now." Mark said. "There’s no telling what’s going to happen."

"I don’t think Battle’s scenario is necessarily far-fetched." Lightstar said. "If we gathered as many heroes as possible, got twenty or thirty of the world’s most powerful metas…"

"I think that’s a bad idea." Mark said. "It’s too predictable. If I were Cronos or Malignant and I wanted to drop all of the world’s major heroes at once, this would be such a perfect way to do it. Give the world’s heroes a threat that they just have to band together to deal with, lure everyone into a flat, exposed area like Kansas, and drop a nuke on them. Vó ila. The graveyard of metas. Then the bad guys take over. It’s how I’d do it, in their shoes."

Lightstar swallowed a rebuke. The three people just stood in the wheatfield, numb from the task ahead. "What do you suggest?" Lightstar finally wondered aloud.

"We need to find someone with a real strong emotional connection to Armature. Someone who will shock him, bring him to his senses. Someone he can’t ignore, even in his current state.

"We need to find the Grey Veil." Mark declared.