Redemption Song - Part 2
Chaos Red grinned. He knew his father would cave. Thats because his father was the most decent creature he had ever met. More than anyone, Doctor North believed in Red, and nobody had ever done more for him, when he needed it most.
Only this time, Red wanted his father to be right about him. For the first time ever, in his miserable, destructive life, he wanted to prove Norths courage and convictions had been right the whole time. That he could, in fact, be redeemed.
You look awful, North offered, filling the ugly silence that had come over them both.
I havent slept in days. Ive been through a lot, Red replied.
Red looked at his leather jacket, shirt and pants. He realized quickly what a wreck he truly was. It hadnt been easy for Red to get to Doctor Norths living room sofa. In fact the journey had been both dangerous and emotionally devastating. Red had too much bravado to admit it, but he was devastated, raw. This desperate plea to his father was all he had left, and what a strange and bizarre father he was.
Doctor Heimdall North was a nobel-winning scientist. He was also one of the worlds most influential super heroes. He was not without controversy. He helped spearhead a native rights movement in the Arctic Circle, that eventually spawned a revolution and a new fledgling nation. North had managed to assemble some of the galaxys mightiest heroes, shortly after the new nations independence had been declared. Many diplomats at the U.N. feared the nation was immensely powerful and dangerously out of control as a result.
Norths name was all over the papers from these recent events, and his own reputation was being tarnished by the mainstream press. Norths nation of radical super heroes, was a threat to the power-brokers of the status-quo. Western media can destroy even the greatest hero with but a few simple headlines, in fact they did so almost every day. All corporations protected their interests - and mass-media was just an extension of the corporate collective that ruled the Earth, or so Red had always believed.
Red Carter was not famous. He didnt even have a high school diploma. His life had more than its fair share of bad luck and misfortune. Indeed, for most people, they would look at Red Carter and immediately size him up, as useless, vain and possibly dangerous. It didnt help matters that Reds appearance was so imposing. He stood several inches above six feet, with shoulders as broad and sturdy as an apes, and with the same poor posture. Reds skin was pale white, unblemished and smooth and at the top of his head stood a ridiculous crimson Mohawk. The hair stood on its own end, defying gravity through the liberal application of skateboard glue to keep it straight and stiff.
It is safe to say the only decent thing that had ever happened to Red Carter was North.
It was Doctor North that fished him out of a wretched Freakshow gang in Founders Falls. It was North who gave him a shot at home schooling, and taught him physics, chemistry and demonstrated Reds natural aptitude with science and math. He made Red Carter discover who he really was and cursed Red Carter with a dream: that one day, he too, could be as heroic as the father that had adopted him.
Fathers can overshadow their sons, in ways that can haunt them forever. In Reds case, Doctor North had saved the world from vicious terrorist plots and won a Nobel Prize for his work on psychiatry along the way, now he was a forefather of a new independent nation. Thats a shadow, the size of a skyscraper, and it was a constant reminder of Reds inadequacy.
How did it come to this? North asked, entering the room again. He was holding a hastily cobbled-together tray of snacks. (as if somehow food could ease the tension and somber mood of their reunion). He placed the tray in front of Reds muddy boots. It pleased North to see this act, at the very least, got Red to move his boots off the coffee table.
I got framed, remember? You disappeared and they blamed me, North replied, swiping a cookie and then stifling a yawn.
Doctor North nodded. He remembered, he remembered it all. Ever-observant, (most psychiatrists are), North then added, Get some rest son. Well travel to Cobiness tomorrow. Ill arrange access.
But, Red was already sleeping, the half-eaten cookie now dangling for its life on Reds leather jacket.
It was good to see Red at peace. Doctor North allowed himself a brief and rare smile at the sight. Perhaps this was going to work out after all.
Redemption Song - Part 3
Few people have ever seen Cobiness. Unfortunate perhaps, because when the Northern Lights dance across the sky and the Milky Way can be seen as a silky luminous streak weaving magic from one side of the heavens to the other, it is a breath taking sight to be sure.
Cobiness was a nation founded on New Years day in 2009, after a violent and controversial revolution. It was situated north of the Arctic Circle, on a small inlet of Baffin Island. The entire nation was only 20 miles across. It was a seemingly insignificant rock, with only a few thousand native denizens.
However, shortly after it won its independence, this quickly changed. Mysteriously, high-grade uranium was found to be in abundance at the sight and billions of dollars from mysterious sources were suddenly infused into the nation. Not long afterward, Cobiness announced it was launching its own satellite, and rumors that aliens from other worlds actively lived deep underneath the ice and tundra began to proliferate.
At the center of all this controversy was Red Carters adopted father: Doctor North, a man who helped engineer the revolution and now actively lobbies for the nations behalf.
Red Carter was in Cobiness for the first time ever. It was quite a privilege. The top-secret nature of this new nation made security clearance almost impossible and most nations would kill to get an idea of what was going on in there. In fact, it briefly cross Reds mind how much money he could make on this trip if he activated the digital camera on his belt buckle.
Then he cursed himself for thinking the thought, I gotta stop thinking like petty crook. It wasnt easy.
Red had spent most of his life scrounging a living from day to day. Hed been living in squats, here and there, since he was 12. Survival such as this, forced you to always think of every possible advantage, sometimes your next meal depended on it.
Doctor North and Chaos Red were sitting in a high-speed helicopter as it circled over the small nation. Below them stood mostly ice and open sea. In the distance, there was a landing pad, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The ship was piloted by a droid of some kind, decked out in shiny white metal and had a long blank mask that resembled that of a welders. It spoke in fluent English, with only a trace of the computerized synthesis that generated the voice.
Landing pad approaching sir, the droid offered.
Good! Send the security clearance codes to Mars directly, and tell him to prepare the visitor level. Lowest possible security access please, North replied.
The words, lowest possible security access stung Red a little. He shrugged it off. He knew it was an immense sign of trust just to be here.
Then suddenly, the droid piped in again. His voice rhythmic but with synthesized emotional urgency: Sir, Mars Five is reporting a disagreement with your decision to bring you son to Alpha Base. He is refusing permission to land,
Tell him its an order, North calmly replied.
Chaos Red allowed the palm of his hand to hide his eyes, in obvious embarrassment. Doctor North, noted scientist and father of a new nation was bringing his punk, criminal son home. Red couldnt help but slump in his chair, and suddenly even the thumping rhythm of the helicopters blades seemed to mock him.
Wop, wop loser, Wop, wop, loser
Red shook his head, trying to get the song out of his head. In the end, it would not die and so he contrived a bar chord hook in his head to go with it. The mental exercise seemed to calm him.
Then, the helicopter finally landed, and with a flip of a switch, the landing pad began to descend like a freight elevator.
This was it. He was actually going inside one of the most exclusive and scientifically advanced locations on Earth; Red Carter, a man whose last meal was Kraft Dinner, (without milk to make the cheese sauce), was about to enter a trillion-dollar complex with some of the most secret weaponry known to man.
Red thought about that digital camera just one more time, before his newly created punk song came back into his head to reclaim his redemption
Redemption Song - Part 4 - A Security Check
Red and North exited the helicopter and found themselves in a drab and very chilly security bay. The walls and floor were unpainted concrete and the whine of the helicopter engines bounced off the walls to form an unpleasant cacophony. Standing before them, was a strange little alien named Mars Five, the creature that did not want Red Carter to be given security clearance.
Mars Five was an alien. Strangely, despite his name, he was not from Mars. He was actually the last known living remnant of an ancient and extinct race called the Xtiplik. How the creature got the name “Mars Five” is a story for another place and time.
Mars Five was probably the smartest creature Doctor North had ever met. His mental faculty was unmatched by any human, and he could process the most complicated calculus, in his head just as easily as you and I can order from a menu. He could write computer code flawlessly, often with an entire object model for a particular application already designed in his head within minutes. He built a 3-D interactive object modeler for this very purpose, and so when he coded, it looked like a bizarre blend of Tai Chi and video gaming.
Mars Five was also a total jerk.
Seemingly impatient to a fault, Mars Five simply did not care for etiquette. He regarded most pleasantries as an extension of weak human ego – and was at times, quite the snob. He stood a little-under five feet in height, a bi-pedal humanoid with bright mauve skin and impish ears that extended several inches above his elevated cranium. His teeth were sharp and unpleasantly yellow and he tended to talk with a sharp, nasal accent that was both slightly irritating and just off-key. He wore dark kimono robes woven with a thick, unnatural cloth. The robes were beautifully embroidered, but looked very uncomfortable, as gritty and as coarse as shafts of wheat. Yet, Mars Five displayed no discomfort from his attire.
Mars stared at Red Carter, like the petty, vagrant criminal that he was.
“I am Mars Five,” the purple alien uttered with a sneer.
“I know who you are dude,” Red responded.
“Silence visitor! We have a strict visitor’s protocol that you must observe at all times! I have prepared a 33-page document outlining the basic policy. Do you have some crude electronic device I can upload it to…or do you require it to be printed on the environmentally wasteful substance you Earthlings call paper?”
North placed himself in between Red and Mars and pushed them both back a step. “I’ll review the protocol with him Mars. Perform your security check on Red, while I change my clothes. I imagine there is plenty of work to do.”
Mars nodded. For all his faults, Mars followed orders well. He actually required psychological dampeners on his cortex, or his high intellect would cascade into dizzying bouts of manic behavior – which included talking too fast, and constantly proving his intellectual superiority. This was perfectly acceptable behavior for an Xtiplik, but the human psyche couldn’t adapt to it. So Doctor North built dampeners on Mars Five dopamine levels, to keep his ego at a level that human beings could just barely tolerate.
Mars Five pulled out a scanning device from a nearby computer console. Red meanwhile glanced around. He saw no other visible signs of security measures. If Red decided to rampage with his own super-scientific powers, he felt he could trash the place. Somehow however, Red figured, Mars could handle his own – and the base he was in was deceptive in its apparent vulnerability. If he knew Mars and North, this base was loaded with defense mechanisms.
The security device emitted a gentle warm beam of light – rather pleasant actually as it began to grace Red’s skin, like the warm sun peeping from behind a cloud. It was humming softly, transmitting data to Mars as he waved the scanner up and down Red’s body. Then it let out a sharp warble, and the light shut off.
Mars Five, examined the data, grinned impishly, and then said, “You have violated our security protocol with what you’ve brought with you Red. I am afraid I’m going to have to terminate you as a hostile invader,” and with that Mars Five pushed a button, and within a flash, Red Carter was staring at the barrel of seventeen particle beam canons.
Mars Five chuckled, “Any last words?”
Redemption Song - Part 5 - Particle Beams Are Nasty
Particle beams are nasty. They emit quantum particles at such velocity and force, that they literally break the atomic bonds in your body. Within a fraction of a second of being hit by one, you collapse into a pile of amorphous jelly and vaporous fume.
It was also apparently painless, but this fact did nothing to comfort Red Carter.
“Uh. Dad? A little help please?” was all Red could muster as the canons began to power up.
“Mars!” came a harsh shout from across the bare concrete room.
Mars snapped to attention, and the canons power-up sequences were held in suspension. “Yes?” Mars Five replied, apparently confused by the interruption.
North ran as quickly as he could across the room, while uttering, “That’s my son for God’s sake! Were you really going to pulverize him mere seconds after he arrived?”
“He was an unescorted visitor, carrying an unauthorized digital imaging device with viral software embedded inside its random access memory! It could have potentially downloaded vital information to our enemies and then attached itself to our computer systems. He had to be destroyed, article 117, stanzas A and B are very clear on this matter,” Mars Five replied, somewhat miffed he always had to remind humans of basic security protocol. Didn’t anyone read his security manuals?
“He was not unescorted, I brought him here,” North rebutted.
“You had left the room,” Mars stated matter-of-factly.
“But he’s my son! For God sake Mars!”
Mars Five blinked, as if this piece of information was clearly irrelevant to the conversation.
Seeing, that a plea would not work on the Xtiplik mind, North switched tactics, “I ask you to waive article 117, with the bypass procedure outlined in Appendix A, entitled “Executive Privilege Procedures,” North’s voice was remarkably calm.
“You’ll need to fill out a thorough report sir, the EPP process is very clear on this point,” Mars responded, somewhat miffed he had to bow to his own bureaucratic web.
“You’ll have it in triplicate Mars, now call off the canons!”
Mars, snapped the heel of his boots together, and the canons subsided back into their secret portals. The room once again appeared as nothing more than an empty concrete helicopter hangar.
North then looked at Red sternly, “Now son, care to explain why you brought a computer virus into my base?”
Red, still a little stunned by having stared blankly at his own imminent death, merely muttered, “It’s just a digital camera Dad, in my belt buckle. The 'virus' is just a simple script-bot that seeks unsecured wireless connections. I use it to jack onto the internet at gas stations and donut stores, I didn’t think…”
Doctor North sighed. His son was a genius. He had always known this. His aptitude with technical gadgets was wondrous. It was part of the reason he knew he had to gamble on the kid one more time. With a little luck and some careful guidance, the dumb lug with the bright red Mohawk could do wondrous things for Cobiness.
“I see,” North replied. “Mars inoculate the virus in the thing, and then let him have it back. He’s not leaving the lowest security level anyway.”
“But sir!” Mars Five protested.
“Just do it – and yes, I’ll fill out the paperwork. Red, get yourself a shower. I’ll have an Alpha Tech show you to your quarters. You’re going to have to earn your keep here son, this is no free ride. Mars Five, let’s talk privately about what I have in mind…”
Red nodded, but said nothing about the camera. He knew there was another secret about it, but he was too afraid about what might happen if he revealed it.
Within minutes an Alpha Tech droid was showing Red to his basic living quarters, which consisted of a small bed, a wooden shelf, a sink, a toilet and a shower stall with towels. It was cold in his room and there was no artwork on the walls or windows. The walls were a dull grey with strange bright red lines painted along the top as trim. The floor was covered by a small layer of black hard rubber, easy to clean and resistant to scuffs. The kind of floor you might find in a large kitchen at a hotel.
“Soylent Green is people,” Red Carter mumbled as he saw the room.
“I don’t understand sir,” came the reply of the Alpha Tech droid.
“Never mind,” Red responded. “I’ll take my shower now. Do I get privacy, or do you want to come into the shower with me, to make sure I clean all my stinky bits?”
“I have been given no indication that you lack the ability to exercise basic human hygiene sir, do you require assistance?” the droid responded, confused.
“I’ll be fine,” Red responded blankly.
When the droid left, Red allowed himself to flop onto his small bed. He recalled his father’s words, “You’re going to have to earn your keep her son.”
He knew what that meant. It meant action. It meant lethal danger.
Red Carter beamed at the very thought…
Redemption Song - Part 6 - Antenna
Red was bored out of his mind.
He had showered. Then, he showered again just because there was nothing else to do. He counted the grip-circles on his rubber floor, he tried to sleep, he tried to daydream. In the end, all he could do to keep himself sane was to mutter the song he devised in the helicopter, adding lyrics along the way
Wop-wop loser - what they gonna do?
Wop-wop loser they gonna do you!
It wasnt exactly Proust, but it amused Red. He began setting it to an old Sham 69 melody, changing it just enough to give it its own beat - the kind of plagiarism that has fueled punk rock for decades.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, (but was in fact just 3 hours), the door to his living quarters opened.
Standing before Red was a stunning creature of such Aryan beauty that it took several seconds for him to come out of deep subconscious thought; (which is a nice way of saying it took several seconds for him to stop leering at her).
Vor Bodil paid no attention to Reds reaction. She was like Mars Five all business. Unlike Mars Five however, she was most assuredly human. She was the kind of woman that inspired cavemen to scratch drawings on walls. She was the kind of human that inspired novels, or encouraged artists to cut off their ear.
Vor stood a healthy six feet tall, in her late 30's now, but her body was as athletic and taut as an Olympic swimmer. Her hair was a striking natural shade of blonde, folded into braids and then tucked neatly into a small bun. She allowed the ends of the braid to dangle just above her neck and collarbone, (which were porcelain, smooth and radiant). Her eyes were the kind of blue that can sting a mans heart and shame even the sky. Her breasts were round and taut, but were discretely tucked under a loose gown. Still, from the right angle their silhouette would dance briefly in front of your eyes, sending you into a dream.
She spoke abruptly, like a school teacher executing a spelling-bee. Her accent was heavily laden with a Norwegian accent, the kind of European overtone that could drive a man wild.
You have been assigned to me, Vor offered.
Red blinked, still unable to respond, and thinking thoughts better left undocumented.
This means I am responsible for your success, Vor continued. Do you know what this means?
Red offered dreamily, No
, then he blinked some more and let his shoulders sag.
Vor slapped Red hard, across the face. The kind of slap you give someone to wake them out of a bad dream.
Pay attention scum! It means I have no intention of letting you fail! It means this mission will go by the book and exactly as I say. Do you understand that, Red Carter? Vors voice was commanding and the slap left a mark across Reds face. It hurt so much, that the fanboi daydream was snapped instantly.
You will obey me! Heimdall has stated that failure in this mission will mean your immediate eviction. Unless you like wandering the Arctic wilderness in your juvenile leather jacket, you better listen, Vor barked.
Suddenly, Red didnt like Vor at all - and began to wonder what he saw in her in the first place. How dare she call his leather coat juvenile! It had the most wicked airbrush art of the Clash hed ever seen! Then he remembered the song,
Wop-wop loser - what they gonna do?
Wop-wop loser they gonna do you!
The lyrics were asinine, but within the melody was a promise he had made to himself: this time hed prove to his father he was worth it. This time, his trust and belief in him was not in vain! It just pained Red that in order to prove this, he was apparently going to have to tolerate a Scandinavian witch from hell.
Vor and Red moved into a briefing room. It wasnt particularly elaborate, just a stainless steel table, some office chairs and a few computer terminals on swivel stands. Red realized he was still on the lowest security level - because this looked like equipment even a small insurance company would have.
Vor instructed Red to sit down, and then she turned her computer terminal around so that Red could not see what she was typing. After a moment, she swiveled the terminal around again, so Red could see what she had brought up
It was a photo of a small snowy mountain, a basic peak, one of probably dozens like it around this bleak Arctic wasteland of a nation.
Vor cleared her throat and began, The Baffin Mountains are a mountain range running along the northeastern coast of Baffin Island and into Cobiness. The ice-capped mountains are some of the highest peaks of eastern North America, reaching a height of 1,5252,146 meters above sea level. At the top of several peaks is a vital communications array that Cobiness uses for receiving reception of electronic media from other nations, including audio, video and low-level data transmissions. At the top of this particular peak, located at the northeastern tip of Cobiness, one of our antennae has failed. Your mission is to reach the top of the peak and repair it."
Red snickered, My first assignment is to fix some old TV antenna? Whats the matter, cant get Leave it to Beaver on Nick-at-Night? Let me guess, youre more of an Ingmar Bergman type, right?
Vor would have none of Reds banter. She waved her hand briefly, as if dismissing him utterly and then proceeded, I am providing a basic GPS unit you can wear on your wrist. Please dont break it. They cost 27 American dollars to replace.
Red leaned back, the insinuation that the GPS device was worth more than him was evident from her tone of voice.
Follow the GPS, and fix the antenna, Vor summarized. You have three hours to complete this before we send back-up.
Back-up? Red asked, confused. This cant be hard. Why would I need back-up?
Monsters, Vor offered back, bemused and indifferent.
Wait, did you say monsters?
Yes, monsters, she replied without any hint of emotion. Good luck with your task Chaos Red. A thermal-suit will be made available to you to protect you from the cold. Please wear it. You will need it.
And with that she was gone.
Red allowed himself to admire her behind, as she walked away. Then with sudden realization he muttered out loud, What the heck did she mean by monsters?
Redemption Song - Chapter 7 - A Challenge
In anticipation of having to go out into the Arctic Tundra to repair an antenna, Chaos Red was trying to squeeze himself into some high-tech thermal armor. Squeeze because most of the armor was designed to accommodate those with a slightly less cumbersome frame. Red was a big man. He was broad across the shoulders and built like a lumberjack. It took some adjustments, but they eventually modified a suit to fit.
The damn suits were hot, and Red complained bitterly about it. They were supposed to be warm of course, and the heat he was complaining about would be welcome relief once he hit the high peaks of the Arctic Circle. Still, Red complained enough that he convinced the support staff to let him go out to the surface without a helmet. So there was Red, wrapped in neck-to-toe in high-tech thermal armor with just a bare face and a big red Mohawk up top.
Id rather look cool and get frost bite - than look like a dork in this damn suit, Red joked.
Mars Five sauntered in to review the armor fitting. Then he pulled up a digital dossier on Red, and reviewed the notes. It says here you jury-rigged electrical powers by stealing the ink of the Tsoo. You apparently used the ink to create living tattoos that could fuse with the natural bio-energy of your metabolism. Is that true?
Yup, cool stuff huh? Red beamed.
On the contrary, it is both crude and dangerous to my eyes, Mars snapped.
Dangerous? My tattoos arent dangerous, Red replied.
He was lying. Reds bio-electrical tattoos frequently short-circuited. So badly in fact, that he had given himself shocks that made his heart stop. Luckily he was revived, but he nearly died each time this happened. Reds technology was brilliant, but it was often hacked together hastily and dangerously. He often lacked control over his powers, hence the nickname, Chaos Red. Water was a major hazard for him. Even when he showered he could not touch metal surfaces. This might explain why Alpha Squad put him in a room with a rubber floor.
Well, well need to test to see if your suit will stabilize your powers somewhat, Mars noted. Let us test your abilities in the simulator shall we?
Simulator? Aint you got real stuff I could destroy to prove to my powers? Red scoffed.
Very well, perhaps a real opponent will suit you well, I have one in mind in fact, came the reply.
Oh yeah? Who? Red asked.
Me, came the matter of fact response from Red Five. Proceed to the Training Room immediately Chaos Red. I will meet you there, and Mars allowed himself an impish grin. It was obvious the alien was going to enjoy this immensely.
Within minutes, Chaos Red was escorted to the training room. It was a vast room with padded walls that extended at least 60 feet above him. In the top corner of the room, was a viewing lounge, with a one-way mirror. The viewers in the lounge could see him, but he could not see them. On the floor were basic white cubes, made of wood and then painted. Each cube was a yard square, but they were placed on top of one another to form strange shapes and obstacles and these were scattered throughout the room. The floor itself was rubber and black, not unlike a gym mat. There were trapeze swings in random places as well as some burn marks on the ceiling. There were also some hurdles, some holes in the ground and some caltrops scattered here and there. The whole facility was a cross between a dojo and a track for the steeplechase.
Mars Five seemed to appear on the other end of the training room out of thin air. He was still wearing his coarse, formal robes, but he was now hovering in mid air with a very dangerous look in his eye.
Training begins now, Mars Five barked...
and with that, the battle was on.
Redemption Song - Chapter 8 - A Battle
Chaos Red held his arms out forward then flexed his muscles and twisted his wrists. This was the exact muscle contortion that activated the cells embedded inside his living tattoos. The tattoos were painted all over his arms with a special ink he had stolen from an advanced arcane culture. As a result of his flexing, his body began to generate massive amounts of bio-electric energy.
He would then use this energy as a weapon, and he had every intention of using it against Mars Five. It would teach that smug alien a lesson! If Mars was badly hurt, he was confident the medical staff here at Cobiness could patch him back up. He could then gloat by sending Mars Five a Get Well card. He grinned at that last thought.
Red was surprised how well the new thermal-armor he was wearing interacted with his electrical powers. It was almost as if they were modified to work with his bizarre tattoos. The more he thought about it, the more he realized they probably were. Mars Five probably designed and built them in the few hours Red spent staring at the floor counting the rubber circles.
Red surged as his powers booted up and when they reached the apex, he shot a large concentrated arc of crimson-colored lightning towards Mars Five. His accuracy was outstanding. Indeed the suit seemed to improve on that front too.
However, to Reds amazement Mars Five floated above the arc of lightning as casually as one might avoid a pedestrian walking on a sidewalk. He seemed to simply wait until the very last instant and then floated above the electrical arc with blinding speed.
Red shot another arc, but again, Mars Five moved away effortlessly and just floated at the other end of the training room, as if to mock him. On the third shot Red tried to anticipate the dodge and fired the arc slightly above his head, but this time Mars Five didnt dodge. It was if Mars knew where he was going to fire!
Then, as Red made this realization, Mars seemed to disappear entirely. Within a brief moment however, he reappeared, only this time just a few feet from Chaos Red. Mars Five then lifted his wrist casually, as if lifting a paper clip from a desk and then smiled. Chaos Red seemed confused by both the smile and the suddenness at which Mars could appear and reappear at whim. Then he felt his feet getting heavy as if he was being dipped into concrete. Then suddenly his legs went stiff as a tree, and then suddenly he could barely breathe.
Chaos Red was trapped inside some kind of massive gem. The crystal had grown from underneath his feet, and wrapped itself around his legs, stomach and arms - paralyzing him. Where had the giant gem come from? Red had no idea, but assumed Mars Five had something to do with it. There was nothing he could do though, he was stuck inside a crystal vault, barely able to breathe, let alone fight.
Mars watched for several minutes as Red attempted to get free and failed. From time to time Mars would flick his wrist, ensuring the crystal stayed strong. It was readily apparently Mars could keep Red trapped like this all day long if he wanted to. To solidify this point, Mars floated over Chaos Reds head and then bent down and plucked out a single strand of Reds ridiculous Mohawk.
A fine trophy, if I must say, Mars Five boasted. End simulation.
With those words, the crystal disappeared, Red disappeared and everything in the room except Chaos Red vanished.
A light appeared behind the one-way mirror at the top of the room. With the lights on, Chaos Red could finally see who had been watching him in the viewing lounge he had spotted early. There, in the lounge the whole time, was Mars Five. He offered only this as an explanation: Red, if the monsters at the mountain peak eat you, what kind of ceremony would you like to commemorate your death?
Chaos Red was humiliated beyond words.
Redemption Song - Part 1
"You're a bum."
"Yes, I am," Red replied, refusing to even argue. It was hard to refute the truth and besides, Red lacked the energy to do so.
"And you're a registered criminal - actively wanted by the law."
"Yes, I am," Red stated again calmly.
"And you come to me with this? Not only for charity, but you want to be made a hero as well?"
"Yes," Red nodded in earnest.
"Get out. Get out before I call the police."
It wasn't always easy talking to fathers.
Red knew this particular conversation would be even more unpleasant than most. Yet, he was determined to have it - and once more - he was determined to get what he wanted.
Red paused, unmoved and then offered, "Heimdall, let me explain..."
"Don't call me that!" Red's father stated this request with some urgency.
"Why not? That's your name isn't it?" Red asked, somewhat confused.
"I don't give you permission to use that name," came the response.
Red stunned, asked the next obvious question, "You really want me to call you Dad?"
"No!" came the reply, even more emphatically than before.
"Shall I just call you dude?" Red asked, with sarcasm dripping like venom from his lips.
"I said get out. I meant it. I will call the police."
"The police can't stop me and you know it," and with this, Red sat back a little more on the sofa, trying to get comfortable - and failing.
Doctor Heimdall North stared at his wretched adopted son, stretched on his sofa. He glared some more as Red's dirty Doc Marten boots were then casually placed on top of his coffee table, while pieces of dried mud cascaded from the bottom of the boot onto his floor.
"It's bad enough, you're a wanted man. Do you have to be a slob too?" Doctor North asked.
"Dad..." Red continued, using the word like a dagger, "I need help. Please. Won't you help me?"
North paused. He knew the answer to the question, he knew it the moment Red had walked in the door."
"Yes," North resigned. "Yes, I will help. Let's get started shall we?"