The Invincibles (27 page)

A whirlwind of motion, he polished and refurbished the mountains and fields, rebuilt tall, striking towers, and replanted fruit crops. After swirling up several much-needed rainstorms with his hyper-speed, he set dozens of cloud song farms afloat, each humming different tunes. He even re-fashioned several computer forests, putting back together and reprogramming what remained of the previous ones.

The Silver Seraphs watched on in astonishment as he easily accomplished in minutes what would have taken them months and even years at the very peak of their powers. He even constructed a new Sacrosanct Keep, one that shone stronger and brighter than its predecessor, on a plateau made from hardened Celestial ash. Inside, crystal statues and stained glass windows boasted of the Celestials’ triumphs across the universe.

Hyperman even went through what scraps of old parchments remained from the library and whatever could be salvaged from the Celestials’ computers to begin rewriting all their precious books. Word by word and line by line, he intended to exactly reproduce as much of the library as possible. More importantly, by going through the Celestials’ knowledge and wisdom, he gained new insights into how their powers had worked and been channeled through Prism. He came to understand how the Silver Seraphs had drawn upon the Celestials’ power. In fact, he even suspected he knew where the power source was.

He gazed out over the planet, and soon his hyper-vision showed a gigantic star-shaped engine at the planet’s core. After examining it with his hyper-vision, he believed he saw how the engine had leeched upon the awesome power leaking out of the Celestials’ auras. In turn, the engine shot that energy back up through Prism and also shuttled it in large amounts out to each and every Silver Seraph.

After studying the scrolls and engine, Hyperman thought long and hard about Prism and the power it needed. He believed he could get the engine working again.

***

He soared across Prism’s solar system, past strange worlds with beautiful green water storms, toxic yellow fire-lands, never-ending ice, and haunting purple shadows. All the while, he dragged a crackling energy-mesh net behind him. The net contained the bulky, blocky wormhole generators he was setting into place at certain coordinates across the cosmos.

He’d helped construct them to the Silver Seraphs’ exact specifications. Once set into place, each fired up a watery, whirling-white wormhole, which connected from planet to planet, solar system to solar system, and galaxy to galaxy. The network would once again give the Silver Seraphs the capacity for interstellar travel and also provide Hyperman a way home.

He bolted through the heavens at comet-crashing speeds, going about his task. When he set a generator floating through space, he tapped in a code on its keypad that turned it invisible and tethered it to the nearest planet or moon. Then its passcode and force field protection triggered on automatically. The wormhole swirled open seconds later and Hyperman flew through it.

Wormhole to wormhole, he blasted all across known space, putting all the generators in place and testing them to ensure they worked, moving quicker than any eye or camera could record. On the last leg of his journey, the wormhole spat him out into the Milky Way. Bright and marble-blue, Earth floated in dusty-black space ahead of him. The moon hung about its orbit, pocked with holes and glowing dull, ornamental white. The scene tugged at Hyperman’s heart. He longed for home, knowing that while only a few days had passed on Prism, weeks and maybe even months had gone by back on Earth due to space-time distortions across interstellar distances.

He missed Lindsey and had often strained to hear her voice across the universe on Prism. However, not even his hyper-hearing was that strong. He chuckled, wondering how he’d explain this lengthy absence to her, but he’d figure something out. He always did. He didn’t care about the work clients he’d likely lost due to him no being there to finish their web design projects or return their calls and emails. His old work seemed so small and insignificant to what he was achieving now. In fact, he doubted he’d go back to his web designer job at all once he returned to Earth.

He had too much else to accomplish and wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way. It would be on their heads if they tried, and many would. S.I.L.E.N.T. would probably be coming after him and whatever power players from the superhero set they could convince to join them because of what he had done to El Dorado. Many of them wouldn’t even bother to hear him out on how he’d taken a weapon away from S.I.L.E.N.T. for the good of everyone. Wrath was an adept manipulator, and it’d be easy to get even super-powered beings riled up and scared over Hyperman taking the law into his own hands. He only wanted to do what he had always done and save the world, but not just from criminals, terrorists, and monstrosities. No, that wasn’t going far enough. He had to save it from hunger, sickness, ignorance, and death as well.

He finally knew how he could. The idea had coalesced together recently for him, seeing the beautiful world the Celestials and Silver Seraphs had built in Prism. Hyperman thought he knew how to improve upon what they had made. His design would make Earth more lasting and powerful though. It would never be ravaged like Prism had. How could it with Hyperman watching over it?

With what he had learned on Prism, he intended to return home to Earth and transform everyone into supermen. Every human being would be as powerful as a Silver Seraph, if not more. He then could guide them all in the proper use of their powers. Hyperman knew exactly how to evolve everyone, too. It was so obvious he felt ashamed he’d never thought of it before.

First, though, he had to save Prism. He had pledged to help out here and leave this world better off than he had found it. Besides, the universe needed Prism as a storehouse for wisdom and the Silver Seraphs needed a home base when they weren’t out patrolling the stars. They also needed power, enough of it to sustain their space policing activities forever. Luckily, Hyperman had infinite amounts of power to spare.

He hadn’t told Areva or any of the Seraphs what he planned to do. They might debate or argue with him about it. However, they needed his power and had no other sources to draw upon. It would be a waste of time to bicker over what had to be done. So Hyperman was going to just do what he needed and take off back for Earth to begin his work there. The Seraphs could then revel in their newfound might here, and hopefully they’d realize how much better off they were now.

The energy-mesh net evaporated once Hyperman set the last generator into place in Mars’s orbit. He then punched in a code to open a small, willowing white wormhole that he dove into headfirst. Chaotic, staticky white flamed and flowed all throughout the twisting, winnowing tunnel out to the other side where Prism loomed, shining faint blue and orange. He boomed down to the planet, faster than even a Silver Seraph could see. Corkscrewing, he drilled down into the ground straight through to the engine at Prism’s core.

After busting down through the thick, radioactive metal barrier that was the size of a city, he came to the engine’s dust-coated, rust-smeared control panel. It was made from scratchy-white crystal that still gleamed after all the centuries it’d been down here. Wild rainbow-colored dials, buttons, and levers jutted out from the control panel.

He accessed its controls by solving a multitude of ever-changing, esoteric math problems with calculations and numbers that went beyond the human mind. He punched in the buttons, turned the dials, and jerked the levers all in a certain, precise sequence that required super-speed and absolutely perfect timing.

The engine rumbled and coughed. A deep, star-screaming red fire lit up from within. Hyperman felt an odd tingling sensation spread across his invulnerable skin. Then a needle-stabbing sensation splintered into his eyes and his very spine shuddered. From down in his bowels, a clenching pain erupted up through his throat in a wailing scream.

His vision blurred and blackened. Dizziness struck him and he fell down onto his hands and knees. He ground his teeth so hard they gave off sparks. His skin flared brighter than a supernova and he burned inside and out. The agony built and built with no end in sight.

With a great deal of focus, he tried blocking out the pain, but it lashed back harder and hotter. He nearly toppled over, but instead tensed up every single one of his muscles and concentrated. Rather than fight against the pain, he simply accepted it. He knew it’d never leave him, not with the engine always running; and it couldn’t be shut off now anyway, not ever—but he had known that going into this. He’d always feel this pain in some form, no matter how small. It’d at the very least nag at him, but he didn’t have to let it dominate him. The pain could join the chorus of all the sensations, sights, sounds, and feelings his hyper-senses accumulated and get lost amongst them.

Bearing that in mind, he let the pain fade into the background of his senses. He breathed out a sigh of relief and took a moment to reorient himself. He smiled and laughed. That had been far more painful and difficult than he had imagined, but he’d done it. He’d connected himself to the engine and was now feeding it his power as the Celestials had once done. Prism and the Silver Seraphs would now never run out of power.

With his work done here, he exploded back up through the planet out into space and through the wormhole toward home. He had saved Prism’s future, and now he had to transform Earth’s.

Chapter 14: DANCING A BLOODY WALTZ

“
Just a couple of hours and I’ll be home!” Nightshadow told Piper over the phone. He was pretending to call from a plane. The Sky Citadel’s satellite phone actually came equipped with the hum of plane engines, taped background conversations, and the sounds of stewardesses serving meals to help fake such a call.

“
Awesome!” she said. “I’ve missed you!”

“
Have you been keeping busy?”

“
Oh, definitely.”

“
Any auditions?”

“
Here and there. I’m waiting to hear back on the murderess one.”

“
I’m sure you’ll get it. In the meantime, clear off your schedule because you’re mine for the next few nights.”

“
Correction.
You’re mine.
”

She playfully growled.

Smiling under his mask, Nightshadow set the phone back down on the cradle and tidied up his desk, turning off the computer and stacking a few coded folders. Then, before stepping out the door, he adopted a grimmer, sterner demeanor in his body language. His quarters locked themselves up behind him, needing his passcodes and retina scan to reopen.

Though he’d keep in contact with Paul Wrath about the continuing search for any reaper children, he’d done all he could at the Sky Citadel for now. If they had anything new to report, they’d reach him back in Salome City. He hoped they had some information on Hyperman soon, though Wrath’s telepaths and mystics were still trying to re-establish communications with Prism to find out what had happened there.

Time moved differently in Prism’s part of space, but nobody knew when exactly Hyperman would return to Earth. Nightshadow felt certain he would, as Cal could survive almost anything. However, he wondered what Hyperman’s frame of mind would be like, especially after dealing with horrifying adversaries like Lucifer and the Blood Seraphs. When he came back to Earth, he had to answer for what he had done to El Dorado, but he might not be willing to go along with what the law required. He might think he was above any law. Therefore, Nightshadow and Wrath had put their heads together and crafted the Hyperman Protocols, a series of actions they could immediately take upon Hyperman’s return home. If he acted up in any way, they could strike against him right away and try to contain him.

In the meantime, however, with Phoenix Bright defeated, S.I.L.E.N.T. and the superheroes they worked with all had other cases to turn to. The world couldn’t wait upon pins and needles for even Hyperman. There were other dangers to face. S.I.L.E.N.T. and the other Invincibles would handle him when they had to and hope for the best, same as with any other crisis.

As per usual, Nightshadow took the least-used corridors and secret shafts to the teleport room, traveling through the Sky Citadel as quietly as a phantom. After being scanned and entering his code, the doors to the teleport room spiraled open and he stepped up to the control console to key in the coordinates for Risen Tower. The screen filled with numbers, but then blanked. A message flashed, claiming that the teleport network couldn’t find Risen Tower’s location. Thinking it might be a glitch, he typed in the coordinates again. However, the same error message blinked across the console.

He checked the controls and circuitry, and saw that everything seemed to be working. The problem had to be at the other end. Maybe some of the wires or equipment had gone bad. He’d have to check as soon as he got back there. So he punched in the coordinates for his spare teleporter at the Salome City docks.