Minister Faust by From (html) (best ereader for pdf txt) 📗

could make out the forms as Kareem announced their names: the glinting man-lizard called the Crystal Crocodile, the oversized crushing hands of Key Grip and Best Boy, the robed and lightning bolt–excreting Shockrates, and the obviously shaped Specially Relative Einstein Baboons.

“And the Superheavyweights,” said Kareem, pointing to the nuclear-armored dictator Baron Von Drako, then to the horned head of the star-consuming titan Cosmicus and his herald the Gold Glider, then to the swirling miasma of horror called L-Raunzenu, then to the aardvark-faced sociopath Warmaster Set, and finally to the shambling mass called Ymir the Planet-Corpse.

“How is it possible,” asked Kareem, while his audience gazed up at the rings of terrors orbiting above their heads, “for someone of Hawk King’s power to have been killed? And how could he have failed to see such an attack coming in the first place?

“His Udjat—that’s what you people call the Eye of Horus, what should be the Eye of Heru if you could bother to learn the Afro-Egyptian name—should’ve alerted him. So what we’re looking at is someone with soular-invisibility, dimension-shifting, or counter-remote-viewing.

“On the Heavyweights list, it’s possible Shockrates could’ve generated a strong enough electrical field to disrupt the Eye…and the E-Baboons might’ve been able to use a string-dimensional tunnel to get inside the Blue Pyramid. But neither should’ve had the power to kill him.

“Of the Superheavyweights, Cosmicus seems unlikely—we would’ve detected his Nebulanaught approaching, just like we would’ve seen Ymir’s iceberg fleet if he’d reconstituted himself at the north pole. Warmaster Set’s vendetta is seven thousand years old…but there’s been no sighting of him or anyone else on that list since the Götterdämmerung. Of course, there’s always the possibility of L-Raunzenu.”

A monstrosity of pure terror described in the Encyclopedia of F*O*O*J Adversaries, Vol. III (Revised) as “a cosmic culmination of a billion horrors, personified and transmogrified into a universal force of unstoppable, ravaging evil,” L-Raunzenu, in the most literal way possible, was everyone’s worst nightmare.

But despite media fireworks about the threat posed by L-Raunzenu, fewer Americans were killed by that entity during its entire existence than the number of people in the same time period who died from rattlesnake bites or choking on chicken bones. And the L-Raunzenu death toll was simply insignificant when compared to, say, the annual human and financial cost of alcohol-and tobacco-related illness and morbidity.

But, blinded by grief-induced obsession and paranoia, Kareem was oblivious to such basic logic.

“Of course,” continued Kareem, “there’s also the matter of those supervillains who are accounted for. Who are on Asteroid Zed right now. Menton—”

Everyone glared at him. He shut his mouth, realizing the enormity of his breach of etiquette.

“Ve don’t speak his name…so idly, Kareem,” whispered Hnossi, narrowing her eyes. “Unt need I remind you zat he’s been in a Psionic Impotence Helmet for five years?”

“I’m aware of that, Hnossi,” he said slowly. “But Ment—the Destroyer’s abilities were off the scale. Do we really know if a P-Imp hat could stop him?”

Iron Lass rolled her eyes at Kareem’s abbreviation. He continued without regard for her disdain. “And on that exact same topic—”

Knowing where he was going, the older F*O*O*Jsters reacted instantly.

Hnossi: “Zere are certain lines zat even zey—”

Wally: “Now, Kareem, I know what y’all’re about t’say, but lemme tell you suh’m—”

Mr. Piltdown: “I don’t care what they were alleged to have planned—even you can’t seriously accuse them of striking out against our greatest—”

“They went bad. Very bad,” said Kareem, too loudly. Then he whispered something inaudible.

Behind him, massive shadow-sculptures, like a miniature Mount Rushmore, oozed into existence. Even in black, the busts were unmistakable: on the left, the elder, Gil Gamoid, with his thick neck, wild beard, wild eyes, and spike-teeth; and on the right, junior with his ram’s horns and flowing mane, the N-Kid. The two titans from the distant world of Ur-Prime, orbiting the mysterious quasar Q-939.

“Yes, they were founding members of the F*O*O*J. Yes, they were great heroes. Once upon a time. But now they’re locked up wearing P-Imp hats on Asteroid Zed. Because they’re paranoid schizophrenics. Who were conspiring to commit mass murder.”

“Zey were foundt not guilty—”

“On account of being criminally insane, Hnossi? You call that a defense?” he sneered. “Hell, I rarely grok brain-to-brain with you people, but on this issue…you not only floor me, you basement me. Those two ‘heroes’ were planning to massacre all of you! You Stone Agers aren’t exactly the most forgiving freaks in the circus, so why all this sympathy for Gil Gamoid and the N-Kid?”

“Listen to me, Edgerton,” growled Festus. “And this will be more complex and nuanced than your minstrel show ever apparently gets, so listen closely—”

“You hear that, Doc? Aren’t you gonna censure him? Well, if you’re not reporting him to the F*L*A*C for that cracker-ass crack—”

“Listen, sonny, those two heroes—yes, heroes,” said Festus, “were wounded terribly in the line of duty. Mentally poisoned, probably by the Destroyer—but possibly by L-Raunzenu. But even given the awesome extent of their mental damage, they would never, I’ll say that again, never plot against our Founder.”

“Even though both of them plotted to kill the rest of you—”

“Even if they did, which was never proven in court—”

“Come on! Hawk King recruited them into the original F*O*O*J, and he used the Udjat to uncover their plot! He built ’em up and he took ’em down. Don’t you think that in their current state they might just want revenge?”

“Why now, Edgerton? Can you answer me that? Why would they or anyone else want to move on Hawk King now?”

“You’re the self-proclaimed World’s Greatest Detective. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Damn, dawg,” said the Brotherfly, “fuck this.”

Stages of Grief: Boundless Contempt

Even Hnossi Icegaard’s lips parted at that outburst. Even more than Power Grrrl, André Parker, HKA the Brotherfly, was the most fun-loving, unflappable, and glibly superficial member of the group. Because no one could have expected his reaction or even his capacity for deep feelings, no one spoke—not even Kareem or Festus, at whom the intense psychemotional verbalization was targeted.

“André?” I asked. “You just psychemotionally verbalized