Issue Seventeen, Fraternity Hazing
TV Anchorwoman Carla DiFricatti stood centerframe with the "LIVE"
logo across the bottom of the screen. "Never before has Port Alexander
been host to so many brilliant names from the scientific community. The
Convention Center is booked to capacity and as you can see behind
me, the ballroom is full as the attendees from all over the world
await the keynote speech. Dr. Janet Watkins, Dean of Engineering at
Port Alexander college and a brilliant researcher in her own right
is taking the podium now for that speech."
Dr. Watkins made a moving speech about the need for reliable and renewable
power for the future and then the crowd broke for lunch. The schedule
was loose for the rest of the day, cocktail parties and so on. The
real meat of the conference began the next morning with Dr. David Bricket
of Solar Research Associates presenting "New Directions in Solar Power"
and followed up in the afternoon with Richard King of King Design Bureau
speaking about "Miniaturized Power Sources and Micro-batteries."
Carla DiFricatti continued her coverage, "We'll be leaving you now,
but we'll be back at 2PM for the only other item on today's agenda,
a press conference with Simmon Marius and PAC President Gordon Lee
where they will announce the new Heritage Professor of Geological Sciences.
Back to you, John."
* * * *
As 2pm rolled around the assembled media and campus community milled about
until the Rector of the Port Alexander University Board of Visitors took the
podium and did the usual welcoming and introductions. She then spoke about
the Heritage Professorship and how it came to be, turning things over to
its benefactor, Port Alexander businessman Simmon Marious.
The tall, private Mediterranean millionaire and president of IO Mining
uneasily addressed the onlookers. In quiet tones, the shy Marious
expressed from a prepared statement his fondness for education in general
and the geological sciences in particular. "As a man who has derived much
from the earth, I know the importance of sharing its riches with everyone.
It is for this reason that I chose to endow this professorship to Port
Alexander University. There were many highly qualified individuals
representing the best minds in the field who expressed interest in this
position. And after a series of lengthy interviews, we are fortunate to be
able to introduce to you an individual who best exemplifies the areas of
teaching, scholarly research, and community service to enrich not only Port
Alexander but the entire world. President Lee, would you please introduce
the newest member of the Port Alexander University faculty, the Heritage
Professor of Geological Sciences?"
Marious shyly smiled as he shook President Gordon Lee's hand and
comfortably faded into the background. Lee spoke, first thanking
Marious for his generosity, and then describing the search process
before saying, "And it is my pleasure to introduce to you Dr. Linda
Wilhelms, the Port Alexander University Professor of Geological Sciences."
A trim woman, perhaps in her mid-30s took the podium, shook hands
with Lee and Marious and then said a few words thanking them and
the press. She outlined the basic course of study that she woul
be developing and then answered a few questions. The conference
broke up early enough to allow everyone to get to the cocktail
reception the University had provided.
* * * *
Richard King's lecture was going well. An engaging speaker, the
athletic looking thirtyish man moved about the stage with a very
slight limp as he made his points. His work with micro-batteries
was innovative and all the scientists in the audience were paying close
attention.
At least they were until there was a flash of light and crack as
a bolt of fire smashed a table on one side of the ballroom.
Standing near the table were four figures, dressed in similar costumes,
red with yellow trunks, boots, gloves and a large F emblem on their
chests, masked as well. One was a woman, the other three men, and one
of the men had a small ball of flame dancing in his hand. It was
he who spoke, "Listen up! If you all just pay attention and behave
yourself, no one has to get hurt."
The woman floated a few meters into the air, "Will the following
men please come over here? Doctors Barry St. Vernon, Jacob Tolliver
and Ian Orphelin. You won't be hurt gentlemen."
On the podium, King spoke into the mic, "Please, everyone remain calm ...
I think we had better co-operate with these ... err ... people."
Turning to the speaker, he carefully moves his hands way from the
lectern and his body and says "What is the meaning of this interruption?
What do you want with my fellow scientists?"
"Shut up, you," said the man with the flaming hand.
"Wait a moment," said one of the others. There was a blur of motion
and he stood by King, "Why don't we take this one, too. He's good.
He can help Orphelin."
"Good idea," said the woman. "Come along, Mr. King."
On the fringes of the crowd people had already begun to drift away.
A door burst open and a security guard stepped in, "What's going on
here? What?" he saw the villians and went for his gun.
A burst of flame leapt from the man's hand and struck the guard,
knocking him to the ground. "Firebrand, no!" said the woman, but
too late.
The blast pushed the crowd over the edge, in a blind panic the scientists
spilled out the doors, mobbing each other as they did so. Only a few remained,
Mr. King on the podium and two others that had been cut out of the crowd
by the other man and woman. The woman swooped down on the crowd and grabbed
one more man, "No, Dr. Tolliver, you're coming, too."
Firebrand said to the man near him, "All right, FistFighter, let's go."
Then he bumped open the nearby emergency exit.
FistFighter started herding the two scientists out the door. "FleetFoot,
Freebird?" he called.
"Coming," said the woman, carrying the scientist with her above the heads
of the crowd.
"Come along, Mr. King," said the man, presumably Fleetfoot. "No time
to waste."
"Err... yes, ok... I'll co-operate," said King. He started to walk
towards the door, then staggered clutched his bad leg, falling against
the display table on which the microbatteries he had demonstrating were
laid.
"Sorry, sorry," he said as Fleetfoot grabbed him and hauled him to his feet,
"My leg has never been strong since the accident... I think I must be in a bit
of shock ..."
Simmon Marious, caught up in the stampede of people rushed away -- right
into the escape path. Like a deer caught in headlights he froze and
reacted, "S-s-stop!" he stammered.
FistFighter shoved him aside, out the door, "Out of the way."
Marious stumbled a bit and then was clear. Outside in the alley,
he saw a truck, with the back door open and another man in
a similar outfit in the back. FightFighter hustled his two men
in and went around to the driver's seat.
Marious caught a flicker of motion and saw a strange figure race from
behind a dumpster. Dressed in patchwork motley and tall boots, the
man ran to the truck while FistFighter's view was blocked, dropped
to the ground with admirable agility and slid underneath.
Freebird floated out the door with her cargo and handed him off
to the man in the back. "Gently Fanatic," she said to the man.
"We don't want them harmed." The wild-eyed man grunted.
A few seconds later, King and FleetFoot were out the door
and Firebrand was behind them.
Defender dashed out, carried away by the rest of the panicking crowd.
However, the first open door he found was good enough. Civilian clothes
gave way to battle suit as quickly as he could change clothing. Civilian
clothes stashed in his brief case, he slipped back out into the hallway,
heading toward the four fiends.
"Computer. Start video capture. Enable uplink. Dial beeperphone. Wanderer."
Defender voiced as he raced against the crowd.
The truck engine started and the the vehicle began to move away.
The strangely dressed man was nowhere in sight, but Marious could see
a trailing bit of motley on the ground.
Defender burst out the door and looked down the alley, which was by now empty
of pedestrians. At the end of the alley he saw a truck making away and
guessed that thev villians were within. He leapt toward the vehicle.
"Defender, Wanderer here. Above you on the roof," the beepherphone in his
ear crackled to life.
Defender and the Wanderer saw a figure lean out of a doorway as the
truck approached and throw something at the tires. It missed, and ricocheted
off the ground and under the truck.
As the truck raced past that door way, the figure leapt out and
grabbed the side swinging to the roof. Both heroes recognized the man
now from descriptions in the paper. A hero called The Champion who
had been fighting the drug trade on the streets.
A moment later, Defender landed on the roof of the van next to him.
Their arrival on the had obviously not been unobserved. The back door of the
truck opened and Freebird floated out and up the level of the roof.
Behind her, Fanatic pulled himself on the roof, his features contorted
with rage.
Defender gestured for Fanatic to come and get some and Champion
held his ground. The truck swerved in and out of traffic adding
a horrible complication to the scene.
Fanatic obliged Defender by screaming inarticulately and swinging madly
and mostly ineffectually.
Freebird flew up and then dived down toward Champion. She smashed
into the hero, failing to do much damage as he sidestepped out
of the way. But even the glancing blow was enough, when the truck lurched,
to send Champion flying off the side and into the road. He broke his fall
gracefully and rolled to his feet, but watched in frustration as the truck
and the fight moved away.
Freebird recovered from the dive and swooped back around to take a shot
at Defender. He shifted at the last second, and miraculously clung to
the top of the truck as he did so. That did, however set him up for
a punch from Fanatic. Defender raised his arms and blocked.
Defender punched back at Fanatic missing wildly and straining his
leg as he did so. His followup, though landed solidly. Fanatic
staggered back and went off the truck.
Atop the truck, Defender crouched down as Freebird prepared to
buzz him again. She swooped in and missed then came around
and tried again.
On the ground behind the truck, Champion had looked around
and popped a manhole cover up out of the road. It wasn't
exactly a discus, but it would do. He estimated the range
to the truck and decided it was too far away, Fanatic on the
other hand, looked just right. He spun around twice and launched the
manhole cover discus style at Fanatic. It caught the villain
in the back.
Fanatic looked around angrily and spotted the hero. He charged
down the road at him howling, leaping the last few meters toward
Champion. Champion flipped gracefully out of the way, landing
near the berserk villain.
Inside the truck, Richard King saw a chance he thought. Shouting,
"Hold on!" he dove toward the passthrough to the front and for the
steering wheel.
"No, Doctor," said Fleetfoot, blurring forward to block his way.
"None of that." He slammed the door of the pass through shut.
He blurred to the back of the truck. "Sit down and behave and
no one will be hurt." He looked at the back and saw Fanatic
charging Champion. "Damnation!"
King charged him, trying to push him out the door while he
was distracted. He laid his hands on the villain, but the
superhumanly quick reflexes of Fleetfoot rendered his attack useless.
Fleetfoot slipped over and the shove only pushed him against the wall.
"Sit down, Doctor!" snapped Fleetfoot, accompanying the words with
several sharp slaps. "We are not playing around, sit down or you
will be hurt."
Dr King slumped back into his seat sobbing... "I'm sorry... I panicked... ever
since the accident... I... please don't hit me... I'll co-operate"
On the roof, Defender grabbed at Freebird as she swooped about. She
darted and dodged about to avoid him.
"Nimble little minx, aren't you," Defender said as Freebird slipped just
outside his reach.
He continued to try and catch her, and finally laid a hand on her.
"I really hate striking women," Defender said as he struck the villian.
"But, these are more liberal times." The blow rocked the woman, who
responded by flying straight up.
Freebird flew over the truck biding her time for a moment. Then
she dove down quickly, narrowly missing Defender.
Suddenly a blast of flame smashed into Defender from behind. FireBrand,
leaning out of the truck cab window had seen a target and taken a shot.
"Where'd you come from?" Defender shouted as he attempted to avoid
Firebrand's attack to no avail. The blast scorched him and the
impact drove him off the top of the truck. Freebird shot back
into the back of the truck, and the rear door slammed shut as
Firebrand made a rude gesture out the window at Defender.
"Say that to my face, you prissy little..." Defender yelled after the
retreating vehicle. He took a moment to get his bearings, then headed back
toward the last place he saw Champion.
* * * *
Meanwhile, back at the ranch ...
Fanatic and Champion squared off.
Pulling back his right fist Champion launched a devastating Uppercut at
Fanatic, crying "This should put you 'Out for the Count'!" The blow
went wide as Fanatic growled and charged in low.
Adopting a pugilistic pose, Champion fired off some rights and lefts,
landing several solidly on his foe, who grunted and swung back.
Champion shucked and jived like Ali, and avoided most of the damage.
Fanatic took a mighty swing but stumbled on the open manhole cover and
fell to his knees. Champion closed in and just as Fanatic rose,
fired a quick right. Fanatic staggered back a step. Champion
landed a left, then another right, and Fanatic collapsed.
That is how the Wanderer found them a few moments later.
"Bravo! quite impressive," said the man in the wide-brimmed
hat. "I don't
believe we've met, I'm...," the man disappeared from sight
and reappeared
within an arm's length with hand outstretched,"...the Wanderer."
"Pleased to meet you professionally at last... I'm The Champion. I saw
you at the SuperCon the other week, but I was in Mufti at the time."
"I think we had better restrain our friend here, and ask him where his
colleagues are going..."
A few moments later, Defender approached, looking a touch dejected. He
rubbed at his fresh bruises as he joined the two heroes.
"Computer. End video capture. Sleep." Defender directed.
"Well, we got one
anyway."
"True," says Champion, "and I think I may have a way of locating the
Van... My Discus appears to have become lodged in the undertray of the
Van. Within it is a microtransciever, used to home in on the one in my
wristband, allowing it to return to my hand by adjusting the gyroscopic
flight controls within the discus. However, It does mean that I should
be able to adjust my wristband to home in on the discus, leading us to
the Van."
"Good show!" exclaimed the Wanderer. "I just love you techno-babble guys,
you and Defender should get along marvelously. I shudder even thinking
about you two and White Knight in a bull session," he added fanning
himself.
"But first things first." The Wanderer pulled out his beeperphone and
placed a call to IPAC.
"IPAC Control, how may I direct your call?"
"Wee Mr. Wilkins, please," chimed the Wanderer. "Tell him it's his
plumber."
While Wanderer regaled this Mr Wilkins fellow with tales of plumbing
related woe, Champion pulled a small set of electronics tools from his
Utility Belt, and started adjusting the Wristband.
"Very funny," came Wilkins voice, sounding not very amused.
The Wanderer filled Wilkins in, and Wilkins said he had a team
on the way to take care of Fanatic. By the time the Wanderer
had finished his call, the Champion had made the mods he needed
to his wrist unit.
"Wanderer. If you will baby-sit our friend here, Champion and I will start
tracking down his discus. I'll beep you as soon as we know where it is."
Defender suggested.
"And I will fly like an eagle to join you when I'm free," said the
Wanderer in agreement.
"Ok, let's see where this leads..." Champion switched on the homer and swept his arm around, trying to lock in on the signal.
He quickly picked up the signal, the truck was somewhere
off to the west and continuing to move in that direction.
The heroes started out on foot but realized that they would
be outpaced by the truck quickly and wondered what to do ...
Issue 18: Fraternity Hazing, Part II
Last Updated 21 November 2001
