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Issue #22 by Steve Crosby
"Dashed Hopes" April 2023 |
You are walking through an alien landscape. Though you lack the uniform, you are unmistakable as Captain America. The identity is in your stride, in the clothes you wear, in your reaction to the sights and sounds around you.
Have you ever really experienced college, Captain America?
The atmosphere is tense, fraught with animosity on all sides. Step off the path in any direction, and you are struck with ideas so forcefully communicated they teeter on violence. You generally like passion, but behind this is fear and hatred, the likes of which you’re rarely faced.
“Would you sign this petition?” she asked hurriedly, pushing the pen and clipboard at you. “We have to end prison solitary!”
How would Captain America respond? With reason, most likely. He’d say that it is necessary for an inmate to be separated from general population, otherwise a disruption to that closed society would endanger both the guards and the guarded. Would she really want lives risked over unproven studies about isolation?
How would Steve Rogers respond? He may prefer to decline with polite honesty. Sorry, but the signature of a visitor may invalidate the petitions effectiveness. Would she really want to risk her cause with accusations of fraud?
Either way, you’re called a fascist.
In these centers of learning, ideas are binary. For or against. Enemy or ally. Protector or predator. Discussions are moot in the echo chambers around you. That great melting pot has been carefully separated into a thousand different cultures, where even the rainbow has sharp edges.
A gathering draws your attention. A man is speaking, and people all around him are shouting. When you get close enough to hear, you understand the anger. His words are vile, a call for everything you stood against in World War II. But when you see the punch about to be thrown you step in, because you understand that beating an idea could only temper it.
It is a nice speech that Captain America gives. Though reluctant, the crowds disperse, but you can’t stop there. The young man’s ideas must be confronted, and you try in your softer way. Conversation exposes his troubles and fears, what set him on the path to blaming others for life’s set-backs. Of course you try to make him see this and turn from the darkness, because you are Captain America and cannot do likewise.
For the briefest of moments you see a glimmer of hope in the young man. But the rot is deep, and at the last instant he lashes out. Horrid poison spews from his venomous tongue as he turns from you. Left alone with the failure, Captain America can only return to the true mission.
You are walking through Hayden College because your ward, Free Spirit, told you there was trouble. You see it now, but earlier Captain America couldn’t be bothered, and so you sent Free Spirit alone to investigate.
You sent Cathy Webster back to me, and I am so grateful for that.
From a series of monitors, the tall and powerfully built Superia observed the goings-on around campus. Satisfied that Captain America was woefully out of his element, she paused with the monologuing and turned around.
Bound behind Superia and forced to also watch the monitors was Free Spirit. Her costume had been torn in a revealing fashion, and the bruises on her face and body were several days old. There was a steady, thrumming pain due to the way she was bound, limbs forced back at exaggerated angles.
“You know he’ll consider this to be your own fault,” Superior told the young woman. “Why would you run off into trouble on your own? Without the big, strong man to help you? This is a dangerous world, Cathy. You know the consequences for stepping outside the expectations of male society.”
Free Spirit’s response was to spit in Superia’s face. She chuckled softly, wiping the spittle off with a well-manicured finger. Dr. Dierdre Walker was a brilliant, once-respected scientist. The great strength she possessed was testament to that.
It was this strength that Superia barely applied to Free Spirit, the slight pressure of her hand against the young woman’s jaw. The pain went deep into Free Spirit’s bone, and she knew that it would snap with just a touch more force. She held back a whimper though, refusing to give Superia what she wanted.
“And just like a man, he’ll be so proud at finding you all on his own,” Superia said. “Unaware that I direct his every movement, orchestrated every clue in his path. But rest assured that, before I crush his manhood, I will educate Captain America about how inferior he really is.”
As her former professor continued to monologue, Free Spirit’s eyes flickered to the monitors. Captain America had disappeared from them. It wasn’t physically possible with the pressure on her jaw, but Free Spirit smiled on the inside.
The signs had been easy to spot, once Captain America knew where to look.
During their long drives around the country, Captain America and Free Spirit hadn’t been siting in silence. Once she’d come up with her code, Free Spirit had spent hours communicating it to Captain America. For virtually every conceivable scenario, she had an emoji.
The concept of emojis wasn’t entirely foreign to the living legend from World War II. Images and pictograms were well-known to him. He even had a similar code system worked out with Hawkeye, based around his traveling carnival life. And the concept itself was as old as time. When in trouble, relay the most information in the briefest message.
Fortunately, a message concerning Superia had been the first and simplest that Free Spirit had come up with. So it was that Captain America had arrived on the campus forewarned of what he would face.
And a good thing, too. Steve Rogers had encountered activism in 1930’s New York, and had seen more than his fair share in the modern world. But this college campus had so many impassioned people for so many causes, many of which in direct conflict with one another. From the moment he stepped foot, Captain America was bombarded with numerous ideas of what should be, with no real opportunities for dialogue. Everybody only seemed to be listening to those who agreed with them on every single issue. Captain America didn’t see how that could have been possible.
As Captain America walked away from the woman calling him a fascist, he reflected on those with whom he disagreed. There had been times when Baron Zemo, Crossbones, Magneto and the Red Skull had fought side-by-side with Captain America, where the scope of such conflicts had forced even those wide gulfs of hostility aside. And those Captain America considered his closest friends were often who he would argue with the most. Disagreements over how to solve particular problems, over whether something actually was a problem, were often the driving force of conversations that led to real actions.
The boy espousing hate-speech was heart breaking, as were those about to respond with violence. Captain America knew that loneliness stemmed behind a lot of negative sentiment, and that treating such people like the enemy would only put their back up. It could serve to drive them to other like-minded individuals, creating a bundle of sticks far stronger than a lone twig. Better to identify, isolate and engage with compassion, and Captain America felt that he could have made progress. But no, the feelings are so ingrained, and the surrounding distractions so numerous.
These and many others tempted Captain America from his path. Yet he stayed the course, and quickly discovered from where on campus Superia was operating. After discreetly changing into his costume, Captain America wedged open the hidden entrance with his shield.
Immediately, automated defenses went into effect. Lasers, gas and sonic bursts came at Captain America, but he barreled through. A wide chasm opened in the floor, and as Captain America leaped darts that were surely poisoned were released from either wall. With unerring skill, Captain America twisted through the air, not needing his shield to deflect a single dart.
The shield was needed when Captain America hit the floor, electrified so that his insulated boots offered scant protection. That barest instant was enough for Captain America to flip onto his shield. On a specific spot had been applied a frictionless compound, and so Captain America slip with incredible speed down the hall.
Flames engulfed the path ahead, and there was no chance of Captain America slowing down. Well-prepared from years of battles against various foes, and even some allies, the veteran threw an object from one of his belt pouches. Fire-retardant foam filled the area, suffocating the flames and slowing down Captain America. Kicking off the shield, it returned to his hand as his feet found the floor safe.
The door before him was a minor barrier, and Captain America soon learned why. Free Spirit had been drawn to this campus by reports of women being assaulted. This unfortunately wasn’t unusual, but the women were generally unharmed, claiming their assailants had been spirited away.
Captain America was certain he was facing these young men now, though all had been altered radically. Varied in size and type, they attacked like feral beasts. Captain America barreled forward to meet them, shield raised. The first blow made it apparent that their strength had been enhanced, and he wouldn’t be able to grapple with them.
Strong as they were, however, Captain America possessed the better speed and reflexes. To say nothing of his years of fighting experience. It wasn’t difficult for the man to drive one maddened foe into another, driving them to brawl on the side. Leaping over a larger enemy, Captain America smashed his shield against the shoulder, rendering it useless. The leverage of the blow also helped Captain America spin around, smashing his foot against the face of a smaller beast-man.
Hurling his shield against the far wall, Captain America ducked and swept an enemy’s legs. He fell back as the shield bounced back, so that it smashed against the top of his skull. So fast was Captain America that he grabbed the shield almost immediately after impact, and rolled aside as the enemy fell insensate.
A series of kicks and shield-slams disabled all but the first two. The two Captain America goaded to come at him, as he stood what he guessed was another door. He jumped at the last moment as they crashed, buckling the door enough to confirm it was. Captain America crashed against them with his shield, driving all three into Superia’s main laboratory.
The board meeting was already well under way when the doors swung open. Hugh Jones strode in with confidence, giving no indication that his legs should be weakened from years of inactivity. Behind him, an assistant was trying to apologize to the Chairman. A slight glance from Hugh’s eyes, and a nudge behind them, dismissed her from the room.
Several of the men on the board rose from their chairs, but it was the Chairman who spoke. “Hugh, as wonderful as it is to see you on your feet, this may not be the best time. We can schedule a proper meeting for later next week.”
Such familiarity from a man who had never interacted with Hugh Jones before that day. Ever since the incident that had sent the head of Roxxan into convalescence, many pretenders had tried to fill the role. All had failed miserably, some forced to leave after only a few months with nothing but a million dollars to show for it.
“If I was interested in a scheduled meeting I would have called for one,” Hugh Jones said. Every man on the board was a stranger to him, so they would not have been startled by the change in Hugh’s appearance. That he was thinner was to be expected, but his hair was now light gray instead of jet black. And there were the eyes which, as they fell upon each man, compelled him to silence. “Your work has been adequate, but no longer necessary. This board is dissolved. I am now retaking full control of Roxxan.”
It was now that the Chairman rose from his seat. “You know that’s quite impossible, Hugh. It was your own father who incorporated Roxxan. We answer to shareholders, and I regret to inform you that your own shares were forfeited when you were…”
“Declared incompetent, yes. I was informed by an attorney.” Completely unbothered by this fact, Hugh Jones produced sheets of paper. “At my request, he then drew up these papers. You will each be signing your shares over to me, effective immediately.”
Inexplicably, each man accepted the papers and signed his name without question. The Chairman however felt obligated to inform him of a pertinent fact. “You realize this won’t even represent a majority share.”
“Yes, I acquired a list on my way here.” Hugh Jones accepted the signed papers. “They’ll each find their way here later this afternoon. Break that window and jump out.”
The once-and-future President of Roxxan turned to exit the room as the former board struggled against the reinforced glass. They would succeed eventually. Hugh Jones directed the assistant to arrange a press conference.
The statuesque villainous turned from the monitor to consider the intrusion. In a mocking tone she said, “Impossible! Each was a real manly man! You mean to say that preying on young woman couldn’t prepare them to face Captain America!”
“They deserved due process,” Captain America said. “Because of what you did, if it can’t be reversed, they may never face real justice.”
“Can you honestly tell me what that would have been?” Superia asked. She had risen to her full height, towering over Captain America. “Community service? Probation? Time served? That assumes they ever would have been charged to begin with.”
Instead of engaging, Captain America looked past Superia to the bound Free Spirit. “Can you fight?”
Free Spirit nodded. “Take her down.”
One of Captain America’s arms threw the shield, while the other grabbed a semi-conscious collegian. He was hurled at Superia, who didn’t bother to dodge or deflect. She just kept going as the body bounced off her, bearing down on Captain America. He tried to move aside, but Superia was incredibly fast for her size. She grabbed him by the arm, and could have crushed it with a slight squeeze. Instead she threw Captain America at a bank of computers.
A lesser man would have impacted directly and turned to paste. It took all of Captain America’s skill and training to avoid this, redirecting his momentum against the top of a monitor screen. He leapt to a wall, up against the ceiling and rolled along the floor toward Superia, keeping her attention.
“Aren’t you willing to face me like a man?” Superia’s swipe brushed against Captain America’s back. Only the chainmail of his costume prevented a rib from breaking. “Or are you so terrified of a girl?”
“I’ll admit you terrify me.” Captain America backflipped, placing a heavy exam table between himself and Superia.
“Because of my strength? My size?” Superia asked, angry. “You know that if you aren’t careful I could break you with ease. That you are utterly helpless to my whim!”
Superia kicked the table. Captain America jumped, grabbing the table as it flew at the wall. The collision had such force the wall burst outward, and atop the table Captain America crashed into the open area of the campus. Young people exclaimed as Superia ran out after Captain America. Too few ran, and too many recorded with their phones.
Rolling to his feet, Captain America lifted the table to shield himself from Superia’s charge. It broke apart, and he dived to the side.
“No response from the mighty Captain America,” taunted Superia. “Because you know I’m right!”
“I know the problem,” Captain America said. He barely avoided Superia’s swing. “And I know your violence isn’t the solution.”
“And that’s why you can’t beat me!” Superia smashed a fist against the ground. Chunks of pavement and earth sprayed into the air. Captain America was thrown back, stunned.
“No, I can’t.” Crouched on the balls of his feet, Captain America was looking past Superia. “It has to be her.”
Earlier, when Captain America had thrown his shield, Superia hadn’t noticed where it had gone. She hadn’t seen the shield embed itself in Free Spirit’s restraints. She hadn’t seen Free Spirit free herself and take up the shield. Superia had completely forgotten about Free Spirit, until the young woman smashed against her from behind.
Free Spirit had gone low, driving the shield into Superia’s knee with all her strength. A significant problem with Superia’s extremely dense body was the terrific strain on her joints. Her enormous strength and durability wasn’t much help when angled force caused the distressed knee to separate.
Her leg bent at an unnatural angle, Superia fell with a howl of agony. A flailing arm found the shield, but Free Spirit stood firm against the impact. She leapt atop Superia and smashed the shield against her face. Unconcerned with the danger of a wounded amazon swinging wildly, Free Spirit brought the shield down again and again.
It was more than a strength comparable to Captain America’s that was behind the shield. With every blow, Free Spirit recalled what she’d experienced at Superia’s hands. The manipulation, the outright brain-washing, the beating and the imprisonment. Each blow did negligible damage to Superia’s skull, but inside the brain jostled violently. It wasn’t long before the villain lay still, her eyes clouded.
Eventually, Free Spirit stopped. Breathing heavily, she turned to see Captain America standing to the side. With only a slight hesitation she tossed the shield to him. “Thanks.”
“You saved my life,” Captain America said. “And this is your mission. What should we do next?”
Free Spirit nodded at Superia. “Place her in secure custody. Get her…victims some help. Anything they’ve done can be addressed after they're treated. And her equipment should be studied, the information analyzed. So come on Cap, get on the phone to the right people.”
Captain America smiled. “Yes sir.”
The large room was packed with media. Four stations were already airing the feed, unwilling to miss a second. Standing off-stage, Hugh Jones was pleased that Roxxan’s publicists had done their job. In a world where so many people seemed to return from the dead, awakening from a catatonic state could have easily been dismissed. Fortunately, there was also a mass suicide that had served to draw attention.
“Gentlemen, I thank you for coming on this beautiful day. This statement will be brief, but momentous. For those of you who are not aware, I am Hugh Jones. During my previous tenure as Chairman, Roxxon enjoyed its greatest success in history! Having achieved all my goals and more, I quietly stepped down to face new and exciting challenges.”
They were hanging on his every word. Beneath the wisps of Hugh’s artificial hair, an inaudible hiss accompanied the power that emanated throughout the room. The camera lenses and microphones were no barrier. All who saw or heard Hugh Jones were enraptured by his presence.
“But sadly, Roxxon would fail in my absence. Other companies, and countries, would cheat us badly! They used cheap, illegal workers that cost far less than minimum wage. And the government shackles us with terrible regulations. For these reasons the board begged me to come back!”
Hugh Jones brings his hands together in mocking desperation. “On their knees, they’re pleading. ‘Sir! Sir! We need you sir!’ But at first I said no. These problems are so easy to solve. And I have much more important work to do. So important!”
It was amusing to Hugh Jones, how these reporters were acting as though he was saying normal things. They were each well-educated, functional adults, and their minds have been programmed to accept anything he said.
“They killed themselves! Each one, jumped out the window! They said a world where I didn’t lead them wasn’t a world worth living in. It was so sad, but I wasn’t. I don’t get sad. But with every one dead, I saw that only I could lead Roxxon.”
Some were crying, visibly moved by words that would normally send a person to the madhouse. Hugh Jones knew that, in that moment, he could defecate on the stage and people at home would be cheering. Maybe he would try that out, after complete victory was confirmed.
“Through Roxxon, I will make the world stable again,” Hugh Jones said. His arms spread wide, the audience saw a powerful figure who made them feel better. None saw past this veneer to the sickly, almost reptilian man spouting incoherent nonsense. Atop the head that bore a deplorable smile, the Serpent Crown of Set worked its evil magic.
“You have to trust me, because it’s too difficult not to.”
Next Issue: Conquest of the Serpent Crown!
Have you ever really experienced college, Captain America?
The atmosphere is tense, fraught with animosity on all sides. Step off the path in any direction, and you are struck with ideas so forcefully communicated they teeter on violence. You generally like passion, but behind this is fear and hatred, the likes of which you’re rarely faced.
“Would you sign this petition?” she asked hurriedly, pushing the pen and clipboard at you. “We have to end prison solitary!”
How would Captain America respond? With reason, most likely. He’d say that it is necessary for an inmate to be separated from general population, otherwise a disruption to that closed society would endanger both the guards and the guarded. Would she really want lives risked over unproven studies about isolation?
How would Steve Rogers respond? He may prefer to decline with polite honesty. Sorry, but the signature of a visitor may invalidate the petitions effectiveness. Would she really want to risk her cause with accusations of fraud?
Either way, you’re called a fascist.
In these centers of learning, ideas are binary. For or against. Enemy or ally. Protector or predator. Discussions are moot in the echo chambers around you. That great melting pot has been carefully separated into a thousand different cultures, where even the rainbow has sharp edges.
A gathering draws your attention. A man is speaking, and people all around him are shouting. When you get close enough to hear, you understand the anger. His words are vile, a call for everything you stood against in World War II. But when you see the punch about to be thrown you step in, because you understand that beating an idea could only temper it.
It is a nice speech that Captain America gives. Though reluctant, the crowds disperse, but you can’t stop there. The young man’s ideas must be confronted, and you try in your softer way. Conversation exposes his troubles and fears, what set him on the path to blaming others for life’s set-backs. Of course you try to make him see this and turn from the darkness, because you are Captain America and cannot do likewise.
For the briefest of moments you see a glimmer of hope in the young man. But the rot is deep, and at the last instant he lashes out. Horrid poison spews from his venomous tongue as he turns from you. Left alone with the failure, Captain America can only return to the true mission.
You are walking through Hayden College because your ward, Free Spirit, told you there was trouble. You see it now, but earlier Captain America couldn’t be bothered, and so you sent Free Spirit alone to investigate.
You sent Cathy Webster back to me, and I am so grateful for that.
From a series of monitors, the tall and powerfully built Superia observed the goings-on around campus. Satisfied that Captain America was woefully out of his element, she paused with the monologuing and turned around.
Bound behind Superia and forced to also watch the monitors was Free Spirit. Her costume had been torn in a revealing fashion, and the bruises on her face and body were several days old. There was a steady, thrumming pain due to the way she was bound, limbs forced back at exaggerated angles.
“You know he’ll consider this to be your own fault,” Superior told the young woman. “Why would you run off into trouble on your own? Without the big, strong man to help you? This is a dangerous world, Cathy. You know the consequences for stepping outside the expectations of male society.”
Free Spirit’s response was to spit in Superia’s face. She chuckled softly, wiping the spittle off with a well-manicured finger. Dr. Dierdre Walker was a brilliant, once-respected scientist. The great strength she possessed was testament to that.
It was this strength that Superia barely applied to Free Spirit, the slight pressure of her hand against the young woman’s jaw. The pain went deep into Free Spirit’s bone, and she knew that it would snap with just a touch more force. She held back a whimper though, refusing to give Superia what she wanted.
“And just like a man, he’ll be so proud at finding you all on his own,” Superia said. “Unaware that I direct his every movement, orchestrated every clue in his path. But rest assured that, before I crush his manhood, I will educate Captain America about how inferior he really is.”
As her former professor continued to monologue, Free Spirit’s eyes flickered to the monitors. Captain America had disappeared from them. It wasn’t physically possible with the pressure on her jaw, but Free Spirit smiled on the inside.
The signs had been easy to spot, once Captain America knew where to look.
During their long drives around the country, Captain America and Free Spirit hadn’t been siting in silence. Once she’d come up with her code, Free Spirit had spent hours communicating it to Captain America. For virtually every conceivable scenario, she had an emoji.
The concept of emojis wasn’t entirely foreign to the living legend from World War II. Images and pictograms were well-known to him. He even had a similar code system worked out with Hawkeye, based around his traveling carnival life. And the concept itself was as old as time. When in trouble, relay the most information in the briefest message.
Fortunately, a message concerning Superia had been the first and simplest that Free Spirit had come up with. So it was that Captain America had arrived on the campus forewarned of what he would face.
And a good thing, too. Steve Rogers had encountered activism in 1930’s New York, and had seen more than his fair share in the modern world. But this college campus had so many impassioned people for so many causes, many of which in direct conflict with one another. From the moment he stepped foot, Captain America was bombarded with numerous ideas of what should be, with no real opportunities for dialogue. Everybody only seemed to be listening to those who agreed with them on every single issue. Captain America didn’t see how that could have been possible.
As Captain America walked away from the woman calling him a fascist, he reflected on those with whom he disagreed. There had been times when Baron Zemo, Crossbones, Magneto and the Red Skull had fought side-by-side with Captain America, where the scope of such conflicts had forced even those wide gulfs of hostility aside. And those Captain America considered his closest friends were often who he would argue with the most. Disagreements over how to solve particular problems, over whether something actually was a problem, were often the driving force of conversations that led to real actions.
The boy espousing hate-speech was heart breaking, as were those about to respond with violence. Captain America knew that loneliness stemmed behind a lot of negative sentiment, and that treating such people like the enemy would only put their back up. It could serve to drive them to other like-minded individuals, creating a bundle of sticks far stronger than a lone twig. Better to identify, isolate and engage with compassion, and Captain America felt that he could have made progress. But no, the feelings are so ingrained, and the surrounding distractions so numerous.
These and many others tempted Captain America from his path. Yet he stayed the course, and quickly discovered from where on campus Superia was operating. After discreetly changing into his costume, Captain America wedged open the hidden entrance with his shield.
Immediately, automated defenses went into effect. Lasers, gas and sonic bursts came at Captain America, but he barreled through. A wide chasm opened in the floor, and as Captain America leaped darts that were surely poisoned were released from either wall. With unerring skill, Captain America twisted through the air, not needing his shield to deflect a single dart.
The shield was needed when Captain America hit the floor, electrified so that his insulated boots offered scant protection. That barest instant was enough for Captain America to flip onto his shield. On a specific spot had been applied a frictionless compound, and so Captain America slip with incredible speed down the hall.
Flames engulfed the path ahead, and there was no chance of Captain America slowing down. Well-prepared from years of battles against various foes, and even some allies, the veteran threw an object from one of his belt pouches. Fire-retardant foam filled the area, suffocating the flames and slowing down Captain America. Kicking off the shield, it returned to his hand as his feet found the floor safe.
The door before him was a minor barrier, and Captain America soon learned why. Free Spirit had been drawn to this campus by reports of women being assaulted. This unfortunately wasn’t unusual, but the women were generally unharmed, claiming their assailants had been spirited away.
Captain America was certain he was facing these young men now, though all had been altered radically. Varied in size and type, they attacked like feral beasts. Captain America barreled forward to meet them, shield raised. The first blow made it apparent that their strength had been enhanced, and he wouldn’t be able to grapple with them.
Strong as they were, however, Captain America possessed the better speed and reflexes. To say nothing of his years of fighting experience. It wasn’t difficult for the man to drive one maddened foe into another, driving them to brawl on the side. Leaping over a larger enemy, Captain America smashed his shield against the shoulder, rendering it useless. The leverage of the blow also helped Captain America spin around, smashing his foot against the face of a smaller beast-man.
Hurling his shield against the far wall, Captain America ducked and swept an enemy’s legs. He fell back as the shield bounced back, so that it smashed against the top of his skull. So fast was Captain America that he grabbed the shield almost immediately after impact, and rolled aside as the enemy fell insensate.
A series of kicks and shield-slams disabled all but the first two. The two Captain America goaded to come at him, as he stood what he guessed was another door. He jumped at the last moment as they crashed, buckling the door enough to confirm it was. Captain America crashed against them with his shield, driving all three into Superia’s main laboratory.
The board meeting was already well under way when the doors swung open. Hugh Jones strode in with confidence, giving no indication that his legs should be weakened from years of inactivity. Behind him, an assistant was trying to apologize to the Chairman. A slight glance from Hugh’s eyes, and a nudge behind them, dismissed her from the room.
Several of the men on the board rose from their chairs, but it was the Chairman who spoke. “Hugh, as wonderful as it is to see you on your feet, this may not be the best time. We can schedule a proper meeting for later next week.”
Such familiarity from a man who had never interacted with Hugh Jones before that day. Ever since the incident that had sent the head of Roxxan into convalescence, many pretenders had tried to fill the role. All had failed miserably, some forced to leave after only a few months with nothing but a million dollars to show for it.
“If I was interested in a scheduled meeting I would have called for one,” Hugh Jones said. Every man on the board was a stranger to him, so they would not have been startled by the change in Hugh’s appearance. That he was thinner was to be expected, but his hair was now light gray instead of jet black. And there were the eyes which, as they fell upon each man, compelled him to silence. “Your work has been adequate, but no longer necessary. This board is dissolved. I am now retaking full control of Roxxan.”
It was now that the Chairman rose from his seat. “You know that’s quite impossible, Hugh. It was your own father who incorporated Roxxan. We answer to shareholders, and I regret to inform you that your own shares were forfeited when you were…”
“Declared incompetent, yes. I was informed by an attorney.” Completely unbothered by this fact, Hugh Jones produced sheets of paper. “At my request, he then drew up these papers. You will each be signing your shares over to me, effective immediately.”
Inexplicably, each man accepted the papers and signed his name without question. The Chairman however felt obligated to inform him of a pertinent fact. “You realize this won’t even represent a majority share.”
“Yes, I acquired a list on my way here.” Hugh Jones accepted the signed papers. “They’ll each find their way here later this afternoon. Break that window and jump out.”
The once-and-future President of Roxxan turned to exit the room as the former board struggled against the reinforced glass. They would succeed eventually. Hugh Jones directed the assistant to arrange a press conference.
The statuesque villainous turned from the monitor to consider the intrusion. In a mocking tone she said, “Impossible! Each was a real manly man! You mean to say that preying on young woman couldn’t prepare them to face Captain America!”
“They deserved due process,” Captain America said. “Because of what you did, if it can’t be reversed, they may never face real justice.”
“Can you honestly tell me what that would have been?” Superia asked. She had risen to her full height, towering over Captain America. “Community service? Probation? Time served? That assumes they ever would have been charged to begin with.”
Instead of engaging, Captain America looked past Superia to the bound Free Spirit. “Can you fight?”
Free Spirit nodded. “Take her down.”
One of Captain America’s arms threw the shield, while the other grabbed a semi-conscious collegian. He was hurled at Superia, who didn’t bother to dodge or deflect. She just kept going as the body bounced off her, bearing down on Captain America. He tried to move aside, but Superia was incredibly fast for her size. She grabbed him by the arm, and could have crushed it with a slight squeeze. Instead she threw Captain America at a bank of computers.
A lesser man would have impacted directly and turned to paste. It took all of Captain America’s skill and training to avoid this, redirecting his momentum against the top of a monitor screen. He leapt to a wall, up against the ceiling and rolled along the floor toward Superia, keeping her attention.
“Aren’t you willing to face me like a man?” Superia’s swipe brushed against Captain America’s back. Only the chainmail of his costume prevented a rib from breaking. “Or are you so terrified of a girl?”
“I’ll admit you terrify me.” Captain America backflipped, placing a heavy exam table between himself and Superia.
“Because of my strength? My size?” Superia asked, angry. “You know that if you aren’t careful I could break you with ease. That you are utterly helpless to my whim!”
Superia kicked the table. Captain America jumped, grabbing the table as it flew at the wall. The collision had such force the wall burst outward, and atop the table Captain America crashed into the open area of the campus. Young people exclaimed as Superia ran out after Captain America. Too few ran, and too many recorded with their phones.
Rolling to his feet, Captain America lifted the table to shield himself from Superia’s charge. It broke apart, and he dived to the side.
“No response from the mighty Captain America,” taunted Superia. “Because you know I’m right!”
“I know the problem,” Captain America said. He barely avoided Superia’s swing. “And I know your violence isn’t the solution.”
“And that’s why you can’t beat me!” Superia smashed a fist against the ground. Chunks of pavement and earth sprayed into the air. Captain America was thrown back, stunned.
“No, I can’t.” Crouched on the balls of his feet, Captain America was looking past Superia. “It has to be her.”
Earlier, when Captain America had thrown his shield, Superia hadn’t noticed where it had gone. She hadn’t seen the shield embed itself in Free Spirit’s restraints. She hadn’t seen Free Spirit free herself and take up the shield. Superia had completely forgotten about Free Spirit, until the young woman smashed against her from behind.
Free Spirit had gone low, driving the shield into Superia’s knee with all her strength. A significant problem with Superia’s extremely dense body was the terrific strain on her joints. Her enormous strength and durability wasn’t much help when angled force caused the distressed knee to separate.
Her leg bent at an unnatural angle, Superia fell with a howl of agony. A flailing arm found the shield, but Free Spirit stood firm against the impact. She leapt atop Superia and smashed the shield against her face. Unconcerned with the danger of a wounded amazon swinging wildly, Free Spirit brought the shield down again and again.
It was more than a strength comparable to Captain America’s that was behind the shield. With every blow, Free Spirit recalled what she’d experienced at Superia’s hands. The manipulation, the outright brain-washing, the beating and the imprisonment. Each blow did negligible damage to Superia’s skull, but inside the brain jostled violently. It wasn’t long before the villain lay still, her eyes clouded.
Eventually, Free Spirit stopped. Breathing heavily, she turned to see Captain America standing to the side. With only a slight hesitation she tossed the shield to him. “Thanks.”
“You saved my life,” Captain America said. “And this is your mission. What should we do next?”
Free Spirit nodded at Superia. “Place her in secure custody. Get her…victims some help. Anything they’ve done can be addressed after they're treated. And her equipment should be studied, the information analyzed. So come on Cap, get on the phone to the right people.”
Captain America smiled. “Yes sir.”
The large room was packed with media. Four stations were already airing the feed, unwilling to miss a second. Standing off-stage, Hugh Jones was pleased that Roxxan’s publicists had done their job. In a world where so many people seemed to return from the dead, awakening from a catatonic state could have easily been dismissed. Fortunately, there was also a mass suicide that had served to draw attention.
“Gentlemen, I thank you for coming on this beautiful day. This statement will be brief, but momentous. For those of you who are not aware, I am Hugh Jones. During my previous tenure as Chairman, Roxxon enjoyed its greatest success in history! Having achieved all my goals and more, I quietly stepped down to face new and exciting challenges.”
They were hanging on his every word. Beneath the wisps of Hugh’s artificial hair, an inaudible hiss accompanied the power that emanated throughout the room. The camera lenses and microphones were no barrier. All who saw or heard Hugh Jones were enraptured by his presence.
“But sadly, Roxxon would fail in my absence. Other companies, and countries, would cheat us badly! They used cheap, illegal workers that cost far less than minimum wage. And the government shackles us with terrible regulations. For these reasons the board begged me to come back!”
Hugh Jones brings his hands together in mocking desperation. “On their knees, they’re pleading. ‘Sir! Sir! We need you sir!’ But at first I said no. These problems are so easy to solve. And I have much more important work to do. So important!”
It was amusing to Hugh Jones, how these reporters were acting as though he was saying normal things. They were each well-educated, functional adults, and their minds have been programmed to accept anything he said.
“They killed themselves! Each one, jumped out the window! They said a world where I didn’t lead them wasn’t a world worth living in. It was so sad, but I wasn’t. I don’t get sad. But with every one dead, I saw that only I could lead Roxxon.”
Some were crying, visibly moved by words that would normally send a person to the madhouse. Hugh Jones knew that, in that moment, he could defecate on the stage and people at home would be cheering. Maybe he would try that out, after complete victory was confirmed.
“Through Roxxon, I will make the world stable again,” Hugh Jones said. His arms spread wide, the audience saw a powerful figure who made them feel better. None saw past this veneer to the sickly, almost reptilian man spouting incoherent nonsense. Atop the head that bore a deplorable smile, the Serpent Crown of Set worked its evil magic.
“You have to trust me, because it’s too difficult not to.”
Next Issue: Conquest of the Serpent Crown!