Magistrate's end [Story]

[csyphrett]

Placeholder for last story of the set.

CES

[OzMike]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Woo hoo

[aylwin13]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Woo hoo

 

My sentiments exactly.

 

I can't wait.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Hopefully it will be okay.

CES

[Trebuchet]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Hopefully it will be okay.

CES

Well, yeah, all your previous stories in this series have been just awful. That's why I eagerly await each new one.

[aylwin13]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

I thought that I was the only one reading these threads...

 

So that they'd get some views, of course.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

In previous stories, The Magistracy has defeated an army of invaders, dealt with a mercenary, defended their tower against clone metahumans, lost mystic pages and stopped Lord Scriptus from merging the Earth with another dimension with some help from some friends.

 

The story opens with the greatest evil of all: Red Tape.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

1

 

Jerry Silver sat at his desk, smoking a cigarette, reading some papers sent over by the UN. His office had been programmed to ignore his smoking. Otherwise the fire extinguishers would react. The first time had been hilarious until Jerry shorted out the building's current.

 

After that, Maker programmed the fire detectors to ignore any signal from wherever he was unless it reached a certain temperature degree.

 

Jerry leaned back in his chair, stubbing the cigarette out and lighting another one. The UN wanted him to name someone to take over for him. Someone had been blabbing about his visits to the doctor, he supposed. That was to be expected.

 

He didn't have long to live. His powers were eating him up. Every time he threw a lightning bolt, something inside ruptured. He was lucky to still be walking around.

 

Still he had done some things since that day in the lab. He had been working, trying to figure out a new application for tubes and diodes. A lightning bolt had blown through, set him on fire almost. He had turned gray overnight while he recovered.

 

It could have been worse he supposed. He had started battling Nazis, then commies, now bureaucrats. There was no end to evil in this world.

 

"Hey, Jerry." The Chemist paused by the door, sunglasses covering half his face. The rotating letter/symbol on the coveralls he wore made Silver sick when he looked at it. "I'm going out."

 

"Anything special?" Anything to get out the paperwork covering his desk.

 

"Something just came up while I was crystal gazing." The Chemist smiled. "Don't you have budget and administrative things to be doing?"

 

"Yes, and I would like to kill the genius who thought of that pile of horse manure." Jerry sighed in disgust. "I would do almost anything to get away from this ball and chain."

 

"I'll see you later." The Chemist started walking, whistling a light tune.

 

"Wait." Jerry stood up, hearing his back pop. "Use your magic on this."

 

"Sorry, Jerry." The Chemist sounded like he was halfway down the hall. "I can't abuse my gifts for such petty reasons."

 

"I'll give you abuse." Jerry muttered as he sat back down. "In my day, it was a punch in the eye for insubordination."

 

John Public and Maker walked by, smiling and talking to each other. They wore casual. Jerry raised his eyebrows. He almost never saw Maker wear jeans. He almost never saw her smile.

 

It was almost enough to make him smile. Instead he looked at his desk and saw an opportunity to get out from under.

 

"Hey guys." Jerry tried to smile. It felt unpleasant. "Could you give me a hand with this stuff?"

 

"Sorry, Jerry." John didn't look sorry. "We have to be in New York in a few minutes. Got an invitation for an exhibition game where we have to put on a half time show. We figured we would use the Step."

 

"You need some lightning?" Jerry tried not to look hopeful.

 

"No, we don't." Maker smiled. "I already have things planned out. Just watch for us on television."

 

"Okay. I guess I can do that. Have fun." Jerry put on his I don't need anyone's pity face as he lit another cigarette.

 

"We will." Public had the gall to wave at him as they walked down to the Step.

 

A blur of green and red passed his door a few minutes later. He didn't get a chance to ask Quick to help him. She was gone before he could register her presence.

 

That only left Luna and Phaeton. Maybe he could trick them into helping him. He thought about it as he called over to ask Operations where they were in the building. Luna had a knack for cutting to the core of anything she saw.

 

"They're gone, boss." Kevin Reilly would need a bolt from the blue, darn it. "They took off from the flight pad this morning, hours ago. Something about learning some new moves."

 

"Reilly, if I wasn't buried in paperwork, I would kill you for sounding so cheerful." Jerry cut the connection, knocking the ash off his cigarette.

 

"You're all alone, surrounded on all sides." Jerry stood up, stretching his back until something gave. "What are you going to do, old man?"

 

Jerry headed for the office door.

 

"I'm going to the cafeteria."

 

Jerry descended on the lunch room, assembling a sandwich and sides under the baleful eye of the kitchen lady. She didn't appreciate his showing up to operate on his own when she was getting ready to feed everybody in the Tower for dinner.

 

Jerry dropped his cigarette on the floor, and went out in the dining room to eat. He heard some comment, but since he didn't speak Russian, he let it pass. Being bored didn't mean drawing down on the kitchen lady for the heck of it.

 

Of course he might if she kept giving him the eyeball while he was trying to enjoy his snack.

 

A little lightning would help with that frizzy hairdo she had going on under that hair net.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

2

 

His father had named him Enoch. He was tall, slim and muscular, with blond hair. He stepped out of shadows, brushing his coat around his body as he stepped out of an alley in Springfield, Kansas. He pulled on narrow shades to hide his eyes.

 

His father had created an empire in this world. He had ruled it from the shadows. Then he had left it while he built an empire in another. The two of them had shaken the pillars of the heavens before they had been stopped by those so-called heroes.

 

His hate list was long, but the spearhead had been the Magistracy, and those people were the first he would eliminate. He would torture them, take everything one at a time until they begged for mercy. And the head of the Magistracy was Jerry Silver.

 

He would suffer the most.

 

Enoch looked around, walking down the street. Hard to believe this small town of concrete and brick had caused his father's demise. He should wipe it off the face of the earth. He paused, taking in the scene of normality.

 

Why bother?

 

Enoch picked up a piece of paper out of a public trash can, walking down the sidewalk again. Too bad about Higgins. He could really use the demon's help.

 

Enoch wrote on the piece of paper with his finger as he walked. The page became a slender screen for him to catch up on the news of the world. He frowned when he saw that most of his father's assets had been seized by the government.

 

He should have expected that he supposed.

 

Still what did he need with a financial empire? He could make any amount of money he wanted with his finger. He didn't need power anymore. Revenge would have to do until he was sated.

 

A flick of his finger pointed out where his enemies were. He frowned. Where was the protector of the universe? The humanoid archetype was on the list too, but he was missing from Earth.

 

Enoch decided to take on Buddy last. He had so many others to deal with first.

 

Enoch decided that he needed to deal with the Magistracy one at a time. He should set things in motion so Silver could watch his friends die before he went too. That would be more dramatic.

 

The writer wrote on his screen. He slipped inside the two dimensional space and rode the Internet to where he had to be. The paper resumed its crumpled state, drifting to the sidewalk, as he appeared somewhere in Idaho. A simple line disguised his normal appearance as he waited for his prey to make himself known.

 

The Chemist had to be close by, taking in the revitalizing springs bursting from the ground this one time of the year. Enoch walked the grounds, moving like the old man whose face he wore. He had all the time in the world to spring his surprise.

 

This is where his father had erred. They should have gotten rid of the opposition instead of thinking there was nothing anyone could do to stop their design.

 

He wouldn't make the same mistake.

 

First he would trap them, then turn their minds to ash begging to serve him until they died.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

The Chemist took in a deep breath. Steam drifted in his lungs as he stood at the edge of a hot spring he had designed for a sanitarium. Periodically he checked on the ward, and the spell, to make sure it was doing what it was supposed to do and nothing more or less.

 

He had set up the spell to aid those with mental illness coming into the sanitarium walls. It slowly cured their ills, adjusted them to living in the modern world. They came in broken, went home healed.

 

Naturally he didn't want his spell to adjust them until they broke, becoming dangerous sociopaths. So every so often he visited the hospital and checked it to see if it was running smoothly. It always was.

 

The doctors took all the credit, not realizing what was going on. The Chemist didn't care as long as his presence wasn't known. It took some degree of concentration to make the healing circle he had done. Most people only wanted the healing, not the work and effort it took to draw lines across the building and property.

 

They would want to wring his magic out of him to make more and more magic hospitals to heal everyone's wounds. He would spend all his time doing that instead of having a life. He felt it was better to create one place every few years so those with the most problems could be shuffled around rather than wear himself out converting every hospital he could reach.

 

The Chemist breathed in the steam, feeling his own wounds heal with the touch of wet air. It had been a tough year. He needed this chance to take a break from the grind. He could put Scriptus's magic in the lines to get rid of it, return it to the universe.

 

The Chemist heard a snap of a limb. He turned, seeing an old man in the casual scrubs the inmates wore until they were released. He saw the man's hand moving in the air. He lifted his own hand to counter the spell he saw working. His hand turned to steam before his eyes.

 

The Chemist vanished into the air over the hot springs. His sunglasses and clothes dropped to the edge of the pool he had created for others.

 

Enoch wiped away his disguise, smiling as his coat tails fell down to the tops of his boots. That wasn't quite the wizard's duel he should have given the older magician, but it had worked.

 

Enoch picked up the bundle of clothes, boots, and sunglasses. He wrote on the air. A jet of fire washed out of a slit in the sky. He threw the articles in with a flick of his arms. A small bang accompanied the landing of the belongings before he could close the portal.

 

Enoch looked around. He thought about twisting the spell working on the asylum. He reached out his hand to do it. Then he turned and wrote a door on the air to take him to his next destination. He could come back anytime now that its defender was gone.

 

Business first before pleasure.

 

Enoch found himself looking at a wall of bleachers and concrete steps. LA Speedway marked the entrance as he walked toward the raised walls. His next target should be inside somewhere.

 

He wondered why Quick would come here of all places.

 

Enoch assumed a face of normality as he opened the locks in his way to the inside of the track. He paused when he stepped out of the breezeway to look down on the loop of asphalt and concrete walls below.

 

At first he didn't see anything. He had to write on his shades to enhance his vision. He had to adjust a few times. Quick blazed around the track, red and green costume streaking behind her, helmet holding her head.

 

Enoch frowned.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

4

Quick couldn't call what she did running. There was no effort, no feeling. She wanted to go there, she went there. That wasn't running. That was magic.

 

She liked to visit tracks around the world. They were places she could run on asphalt, shaped to keep her speed from being a danger to others. She supposed she could use places like the salt flats where they tested rocket cars but liked the idea she could run forever.

 

She noticed a guy standing on the steps about halfway up the stairs to the main entrance. He seemed to be watching the track. That should have been impossible. She was traveling at speeds way above what the human could follow, especially at the distance he seemed to be standing.

 

Maybe I should go up and ask him what his deal is.

 

That thought took about four laps as Quick openly studied the voyeur.

 

Quick turned to head up the stairs, and out of the speedway. She had been on the track for a while. She would grab some Vault and head back to the Tower for a bath, and a quick book. There was no need to get involved with a creepy stranger who hadn't done anything wrong yet.

 

Her feet left the track. Everything fuzzed over. She seemed to be slowing down. Then everything went black.

 

Enoch rushed down the stairs. His spell had worked but the speedster had actually climbed higher than what he had thought. That was amazing. He stood her frozen body up on her motionless feet, admiring the curves captured in stone. He looked her up and down, feeling lust, hunger.

 

Business first.

 

Still it wouldn't hurt to look as he thought about what he was going to do to hold her until he was done with the rest. He had always wanted a slave girl to tend to his every needs.

 

Enoch finally wrote on the air, hiding the statue in the molten concrete he had created with a few slices of his fingers. The statue sank into the stadium with little fanfare, the helmet the last to vanish from sight as the magician watched.

 

He would exhume Quick when he wanted her again. He might put thoughts of love in her head. He didn't know quite yet what he wanted to do.

 

The rest of his revenge had to come first before he indulged himself.

 

The rest would be more dangerous to capture. His scrying had told him Luna and Phaeton were together, and John Public and Maker were together. He couldn't hope to attack from surprise without alerting the other present unless he chose his battleground wisely.

 

Enoch picked up a menu on the way past the snack bar on his way out. He wrote on it, deciding to take Luna and Phaeton next. They were at some tournament, watching the fights. It was a place he could blend into.

 

Enoch wrote on the air, throwing the napkin away as soon as he was done with it. Scrying had its uses, but he liked to look the ground over first before setting his trap. He smiled as he gated across country to Texas.

 

Maybe when this was over he would have two, perhaps three, harem girls to tend to his every need as he worked his way down his list.

 

After all there would be no more Magistracy, and he would need the help to create the magic he would use to change the world into something more to his liking. Even if he was stopped by some chance before he had destroyed his prime targets they would never get the Chemist or Quick back from where they had been consigned.

 

A partial revenge was better than none.

 

Enoch added a camera to his track joe normal disguise. It made it look like he was there to take pictures as a tourist, or for a paper/magazine. He held the camera up, looking for his two targets.

 

He spotted Luna's short hair gleaming across the crowded room. He focused the camera to make sure. He smiled. The both of them stood there, Phaeton bored, but the fighter shouted encouragement to those in the mattress covered arena.

 

He had to get closer.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

5

 

Luna felt someone looking at her. She knew when someone was looking at her most of the time. It was a more than casual interest that raised her arm and neck hair to full alert. She slowly looked around, taking in the crowd around the match area.

 

Her eyes fell on a man with a camera walking through the crowd. He stopped and looked to make sure they were still standing there every so often. She could see the movements of his hands. He pointed the camera but he didn't hit the switch.

 

Probably an autograph hound. It had taken her a while to get used to the fact that people wanted her picture to say they had met her. She had almost killed someone with his own notebook in reflex when he had approached for a signature.

 

"It looks like we have company." Luna nodded to the picture taker making his way through the crowd. "Get ready to make a muscle and all that."

 

"He probably thinks you're the hot chick he can con with a private picture shoot." Phaeton's eyes glowed as he looked at the approaching stranger. "Just don't shove his camera down his throat. Silver hates it, and I don't want to fill out the paperwork."

 

"I promise I will at least listen before I get physical." Luna smiled. "We are at a tournament."

 

"That's right, missy." Phaeton hugged her close. "Don't forget it."

 

The camera man walked over, pretending to be embarrassed. He gave a fake smile, holding up some kind of paper identity card. Luna's sharp eyes skipped over the writing for some reason before he put the card away.

 

"My name is Ed Scribbler." The camera man gave another false smile. "I was wondering if I could take your picture for the paper. Maybe we could sit down and talk somewhere."

 

"We don't mind the picture." Phaeton didn't quite glare at the man. "Maybe after the tournament, we can talk."

 

"Thanks for the consideration." Ed put the camera up to his eye, scratching at the side.

 

"You must have sharp eyes to pick two ordinary people out of a crowd like this." Luna tried to smile, but instead looked at the stranger as if they had met before.

 

"The both of you are quite famous." Ed smiled a genuine smile for the first time. "Even dressed in regular clothes, you both stand out."

 

Luna and Phaeton looked down at the jeans, t-shirts, sneakers, boots outfits they had put together. It was a far cry from the purple tunic Luna wore, and the gold suit Phaeton caused to glow when in action. They looked up at the camera, suspicion still on their faces.

 

"Say cheese." Enoch let his disguise lapse at the last second as he pressed the button. Luna at least recognized him. She charged forward as the flash went off. Both of the magistrates descended into the camera, caught on digital for as long as he wanted. He pulled the card and let the rest of the camera return to nothingness.

 

He had what he came for at the moment. Time to move on to the last two sheep before taking on the ram. The Magistracy was as good as dead whenever he wanted. It felt good to carry on in the name of his father.

 

Enoch opened another gate as the crowd separated from his presence. The closest has seen what he had done to Luna and Phaeton, and didn't want to suffer a similar fate. They pushed the other onlookers back as he stepped into the pattern he had drawn and vanished.

 

Enoch appeared in New York. He recognized the smog anywhere. He walked, noting that he had plenty of windows he could use for scrying. The camera man trick should work again but he didn't like to repeat himself.

 

That would make him predictable.

 

First he needed to find his last two targets, then he could capture them. After that, he could destroy Jerry Silver completely, one comrade at a time.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

John Public and Maker walked out of the stadium after the game, smiling and laughing. Their show had went like clockwork, the crowd calling for an encore. No one had seen fireworks like that.

 

"How does it feel to bask in glory?" John linked his arm in hers, leading the way with the flow of the crowd.

 

"Excellent." Maker smiled. "I thought your hair was going to catch on fire with that last one."

 

"It was close." Public enjoyed the feelings that washed over him from her. "But I made it through without a misstep."

 

"You said there was a great place to eat around here." Maker looked around, tiptoeing to try and see over the crowd as everyone emptied into the parking lot. Luckily they didn't have to find a car in the developing chaos in front of them.

 

"I know a couple." John led the way out of the river of humanity. "Casual dining at its best."

 

"Is this a date?" Maker grinned. "I don't think we have ever been on a real date."

 

"There was that one time we hit the rave down in the Bowery." John paused, grabbing a hug impulsively. It felt like the thing to do. "I think I like this romance and courting."

 

"How many women have you taken out?" Maker tried to put up a show of seriousness.

 

"I have no idea." John laughed, then stopped. His mind zeroed in on a man in a coat and what looked like a Prince Albert suit. Maker followed his gaze, struck by the anomaly approaching them.

 

The man raised his hand, scribbling on the air. It seemed more like a formula than the simple signs the Chemist used. John Public vanished in a dazzling array of bubbles heading for open sky.

 

"What did you do?" Maker's armor wrapped around her, arm cannon pointing at the stranger. "What did you do with John?"

 

Then she recognized him.

 

Maker had dealt with this man before, had killed his butler in Dallas. She didn't waste any more time asking questions. She fired the arm cannon's laser.

 

Enoch wrote the word for shield and one for mirror in front of him. The beam struck it, reflected back at her. Maker tried to duck, but the beam hit and burned part of her armor on her arm as she moved. A little slower and it would have caught her dead center.

 

"I strengthened his connection to other people." Enoch wrote another sign to stop her moving. "Now I am going to get rid of you."

 

He wrote a formula on the air before her eyes. She recognized part of it, but didn't know what it meant in the arcane language writers used. Suddenly her vision split into a million tiny spots of light as she became lightning and entered the nearby stadium's electrical system.

 

"I hope you like the world of electronics you so admire." Enoch turned and started walking away. Six out of seven had fallen to his touch. Perhaps his father had been wrong about what the Magistracy could do to people like him.

 

Only Jerry Silver and his island tower remained to be dealt with.

 

Enoch wondered what he could do to make his revenge spectacular enough to warn the world he was exacting it against everyone who had wronged him. It wasn't enough just to kill the old man. He had to suffer publicly for what he had done.

 

Enoch needed some help. Fortunately he could build just what he wanted if he had enough material. He opened another gate, deciding to look at the final battlefield for himself.

 

The gate handed him off to Magistracy Island in the middle of the Atlantic. The Chemist's wards glowed eerily in his presence. Obviously they would stop his magic if he tried a direct assault.

 

Enoch looked up at the black stone. There were ways around wards. All you needed was something that could force them aside.

 

Enoch looked at the ocean. There was his material right there. All he needed was a little bit of magic.

[TheQuestionMan]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Fantastic Writing

 

More more more...

 

QM

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Thank you. I appreciate that QM

CES

[OzMike]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

I'm a fan too - and I still want those write-ups!

 

I like the pacing on this one too - well done

[aylwin13]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Another great chapter, c.

 

And I'll second OzMike's request for the write-ups, especially for the "writers".

 

Writer's Rep has been sent.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Thanks guys. I think I have the basic abilities scoped out for the main guys.

 

Silver EB mulitpower with side effects

 

Quick- Speed tricks multipower with either teleportation on megascale or flight on solid surfaces (I already have a speedster I can adapt from the new circle)

 

Luna- Incredibly high find weakness, high speed/dex, HKA with AP, martial skills

 

Phaeton- flying blaster, high chars, reserve battery with light being recovery source

 

Maker- Mind control machines, EB for arm cannon, armor, a gadget pool to build things on the fly out of her nanos

 

JOhn Public-Absorb one point from other people megascale added to his characteristics. Mind link/telepathy/clairvoyance maybe cramming linked to that for skills

 

Chemist- maybe high end multipower or Power pool with gestures

 

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Before I forget this will probably be the last story unless I come up with some more ideas. What would you like to see other than character sheets? More of the other teams? Origins? Let me know either here or at my mail

 

csyphrett@aol.com

 

just mark it with Magistracy or something so I dont throw it away.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

7

 

On the grounds of a sanitarium, a hot spring geysered every hour on the hour. The water fell back into the steam, some dropping on the edge of the pool. A small collection of items formed a pile where the water fell most.

 

They were an eclectic bunch of items from a glowing rubber duck to a sword shaped like a key. The thing on the bottom looked like a puddle. It looked like whomever dropped these items had started at the simple first then piled more complex things on top of that.

 

None of the staff had seen the pile of junk yet. Most were busy helping their patients. Some were taking smoke breaks on the other side of the building. The Isley as it was called had a low turnover rate, perhaps the lowest in the state. That coupled with a high cure success rate made it a desirable place to work.

 

The geyser spouted up, water falling down on the edge of the pool. Some of the drops looked like a human face when you looked at them moving together. They hit.

 

The drops formed a symbol on the ground when they hit. The letter, unknown to most of the humanity, glowed. Magic worked.

 

A small, malformed hand came out of the water. A spindly arm followed. Then what looked like a skeleton with flesh draping it came after. Mismatched eyes scanned the ground before the strange creature collapsed on the grass.

 

He didn't look much like one of the mightiest mages on earth.

 

He looked like a man who had been beaten into a wreck and left for dead after being set on fire. But first they had taken his clothes and wallet.

 

He fell asleep, wiped out by what he had done to get out of the water trap he had been imprisoned in. It took a lot of control to work a spell to get enough together to work more spells more reliably. It had left him a wreck for the time being and useless to his comrades.

 

The staff found him a few hours later, still lying on the lawn, still sleeping. They didn't know what was going on, but they gathered his malformed body up and took him to a room so he could recover and explain what he was doing. A sedative kept him asleep.

 

The morning would be fine for their questions to be answered.

 

By then whatever the outcome of the conflict, it would be decided by the time he answered questions, recovered his strength, and took on his true form. He would take the items and return them to oblivion and call on the clothes he normally wore. A call to the tower would tell him the whole story.

 

That was still twelve hours in the future.

 

Before that recovery, he slept and dreamed of things he had done, things he had seen, duels with wizards, mythical beasts that no longer roamed the realms of men.

 

He walked with his wife and child once more, looking out over a lake in a forest that didn't exist any more. He fought with their killer, tried to save those around him. The Black Plague had taken many that century.

 

He had found his first letter soon after. That had led him to his first teacher, and the wonder of words. There was nothing they could not do except one. They couldn't bring back the dead.

 

He had searched for many years, prolonging his own life with his magic. No formula allowed him to resurrect those that had fallen. He could heal any he could reach in time, but not even his most extraordinary thoughts could bring back any who crossed the veil.

 

He had met Silver during the war, helped him combat the things that were being summoned by lesser writers, summoners, and other branches of the brethren. He remembered reaching a gate as it opened in the hopes of wiping out the invaders of D-day. A protector of the universe, Silver, and others had combated the menace until the gate closed on it.

 

He remembered the look it had given him when the gate started slicing off its limbs.

 

The Chemist slept on, fading away from the light, walking in shadows again. He had retired away from others who might need a man of his capabilities.

 

Silver arrived a decade later, looking for him. He wanted someone to bolster the kids he was gathering at the behest of the UN. He needed the power that the Chemist represented. The magician had thought of turning his old friend down.

 

He remembered looking out over the cobblestone court that had been laid in a city that had subsumed his old home from years ago. He had pulled on his sunglasses and said he would do it.

 

He fell into a deeper sleep, blacker and dreamless. The lines he had methodically carved worked their will on his body and mind. When he awoke, he would be more like his old self in mind. He would have to work on his body and fix it to look like it should.

 

Then he would start working on finding his friends and making sure they were all right.

 

Outside as the early morning hours passed to dawn, lightning struck across a clear sky once and then there was calm again.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

8

Kevin Reilly wondered why he had taken the job of operations officer for the Tower. He wasn't superhuman, essentially sat on a bull's eye, and had to sit and wait for trouble to descend on his station which it did all the time.

 

He could have stayed in the navy for this much trouble.

 

He looked at his screens, feeling his insides clench up. Four large radar and sonar sources suddenly appearing within stone's throw of the tower couldn't be good. They were standing in place for the moment. That couldn't last long.

 

"Battle stations." Reilly waited for a moment before repeating himself. "Battle stations. This is not a drill. All personnel get ready for emergency evacuation."

 

At least that made one part of his job easier. Most of the people in the tower were civilian planners. He had some fire and damage control people, but most didn't know which way a gun was supposed to point. To get those uncombat ready people clear in case of an emergency, Maker had built badges the Step could lock on and beam them away.

 

"What's going on, Reilly?" Jerry Silver burst into the room. He trusted his operations man's judgment but an announcement of trouble should have followed a call to his office. It meant he could leave the world of red tape behind for something he could handle.

 

"These things just appeared on the screen." Reilly pointed to the radar and sonar displays. "Weapons locked and loaded."

 

"Can you get us a picture?" Silver listened as the cannons and missile batteries came to life in the outer walls of the monolith.

 

Reilly hit some buttons. One of the secondary screens showed something that looked like a whale on legs standing at the transport line. Several more buttons lit up the other three giants waiting for whatever was supposed to happen.

 

"This doesn't look good." Silver lit up a cigarette. "They're standing right outside the shipping markers."

 

"If those things come after us, I don't think our guns will stop them." Reilly had his hands over the fire controls for the missiles and lasers.

 

"Jerry Silver." The voice reverberated through the tower. "Please come to the roof where we may talk."

 

"That didn't sound good." Silver held up his hand, electricity dancing around his fingers. "See if you can find the others. If things get bad, get out of here."

 

"You don't have to tell me twice." Reilly bent over the radio and sent out for the Magistracy as Silver left the room.

 

The electric man walked down the corridor, puffing on his cigarette as he went. He threw the butt away as he reached the roof elevator and rode up to the jet pad. He didn't like being called out on his own turf, especially when the rest of his team had decided to go into town.

 

He might need the back up.

 

A man stood at the other end of the deck, coat whipping around him as he held up his hands. One of his hands had something that looked like a flash drive. The stranger was smiling as the older man lit another cigarette and waited.

 

"You're friends are inside this container." The stranger smile grew wider. "At least two of them are. You can have them after my friends crush this building into the ocean."

 

"I don't think so." Silver pointed his crackling hand at the newcomer.

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

9

 

Enoch sneered at Jerry Silver, holding the drive in front of him. The hero would only look menacing. One chance bolt running across the magician's body would wipe Luna and Phaeton away forever. The old man wouldn't risk that.

 

"Put it away, Silver. We both know you won't do anything as long as I am holding your friends." Enoch laughed as his monsters approached the tower from the cardinal directions. Soon the edifice would be broken pieces at the bottom of the ocean.

 

"I don't have any friends." Silver fired a piece of lightning across the open space.

 

Enoch had made his clothes lightning proof, had built a ring to catch it like a lightning rod, had done everything he could think of to make it where his enemy couldn't fry him where he stood, plus produced hostages. He neglected to make his shoes keep him on his feet. The bolt carved up the roof, flinging him into the air with a roll of thunder. He dropped the little cassette as he fell over the roof's edge.

 

Silver leaped forward, grabbing the plastic cube. He slipped it in his pants pocket as he looked at the four monsters soaking up what Reilly was handing out. He didn't want to do it, but he had to.

 

Silver took aim at the whale marching down on him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to calm himself. He didn't want to expend everything on one shot that missed. The giant looked at him with its black eyes, raising a fist.

 

Silver cut loose, hoping the monsters couldn't take what he could dish out. The lightning hit, sank in, blasted out the other side. The air boiled from the super heated lance. The whale fell over, splashing down far below.

 

Silver coughed, threw up blood on the roof, turned to face the next giant in line. He staggered closer, hand unsteady as he pointed. He blasted the thing, burning away tentacles on a bulbous head as yellow eyes rolled up. Tiny wings flapped once. Then it sank to the bottom.

 

Silver staggered to the other side of the roof. He felt something shaking loose inside. No pain yet. That was good for now. Cranking out the watts racked his body with coughing and more vomiting.

 

He just needed two more bolts. He could do that. It was a piece of cake. He couldn't quite see the whole of the third monster as he tried to take aim. He braced his arm on the rampart. Then he fired, glad to actually hit the thing on the chest. He saw that it was made of water that turned to steam from the hammer blow he had given it.

 

It would have to do. He still needed to deal with the last monster.

 

Silver held back his insides, crawling to the last corner so he could line up on the last monster. He closed his eyes, tasting blood and bile. One finger shook as it pointed. Then he cut loose with what he had left. The skin of his hand peeled away as the thunder followed with a deafening crash. The last beast crashed down into the water, smoke drifting from its mouth.

 

Silver collapsed against the short wall. One hand clawed at his shirt pocket for his cigarettes. He gave it up as a bad job. He idly wondered why he was surrounded by blood, and why his clothes were sticky.

 

A spear stabbed into his chest, pinning him to the rough granite. He looked down at it. He didn't have the strength to pull it out.

 

"You don't get off that easy." Enoch stood over him suddenly. "You're going to watch as I rip your little Tower apart. You'll watch as I kill your friends for good. You'll suffer the whole time."

 

"I don't think so." Silver closed his eyes.

 

"What makes you say that?" Enoch's eyes glimmered in the clouded sky. "Who do you think will stop me? All of your friends are my prisoners. You're done."

 

"Not...," Silver smiled, "all my friends."

 

"What?" Enoch heard a crunch behind him. He started to turn, hands coming up to make a defensive gesture. Sharp cracks dropped him on his back. He had made himself as electricity proof as possible, he never dreamed one of the staff would take a pistol and shoot him.

 

Kevin Reilly jogged up, pistol aimed at the fallen mage. He had been a good shot back in the service. He put a couple more in the villain to make sure. He was getting paid to protect the Tower. He hoped the review board would understand about making sure.

 

"Put yourself down for a raise, Reilly." Silver smiled, still pinned like a butterfly on a specimen board.

 

"I'll do that." Reilly put the pistol away as he bent over the fallen hero. Silver wasn't alive to hear.

[Mr. R]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

OH man I like this.

 

Jerome

 

PS rep

 

(Darnit Must spread before ....... OK Virtual Rep then)

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

Thanks Jerome. I appreciate it.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Magistrate's end [story]

 

The Chemist arrived at the tower two days after the battle on the roof. His eyes were still mismatched but the rest of him looked in okay shape. He wore a set of casuals copied from a magazine.

 

Kevin Reilly waited on the roof, unshaven, red eyed from the lack of sleep. He smiled slightly at the magician in greeting.

 

"How are you, Kevin?" The Chemist tried to keep his voice steady as he limped across the pad. He hadn't quite got one of his legs right yet.

 

"Better than you it looks like." Reilly turned to lead the way into the Tower. "That magic guy said he had everybody. We can't find them with the Step."

 

"Take me to the body." The Chemist made an adjustment on his leg to get it working right. "I'd like to question it."

 

"It's down in the morgue with the Chief's." Reilly headed for the elevator. "The goverments want us to give him over for research. They want to know what made the electricity tick. I told them to hold on until I figured out where the team had gone."

 

"Good." The Chemist followed at a slower pace.

 

The two rode down to the morgue in silence. Kevin led the way down to the refrigerated room next to the sick bay. Silver and Enoch lay side by side, covered with sheets. Their personal belongings sat in plastic bags on their chests.

 

"Autopsies will be done as soon as we can get Maker back." Reilly stood by the door. "We pretty much know how they died."

 

"Could you bring me a mirror, Kevin." The Chemist picked up each bag in turn, frowning at the contents. "The faster we do this, the faster we can find out what happened."

 

Reilly stepped out of the cold room. He returned with a small hand mirror he had gotten out of a drawer. He handed it over, wondering if it was too soon to let the Chemist do magic. The magician looked like death warmed over.

 

The Chemist wrote on the surface expanding it about two feet. He needed to be able to see what had happened.

 

"Stand here with the mirror." The Chemist placed Reilly exactly where he needed him beside Enoch's head. "Don't move."

 

The Chemist wrote a formula on the glass, carefully marking each symbol. The mirror clouded bit by bit, became black. Then scenes appeared before his eyes. He kept his mismatched eyes open to catch each symbol marking magic worked. That would make his counter magic easier to perform. He rubbed off the writing when he was done.

 

"What did you find out?" Reilly put the shrunken mirror down on a table.

 

"Everything." The Chemist dumped out Silver's bag, picking up the flash drive. "Luckily he didn't kill any of them. He just changed their existence."

 

"What do we need?" Reilly stepped near the door, ready to get arcane ingredients.

 

"Just a place to start." The Chemist wrote on the plastic shell. It opened under the pressure of his magic. Luna and Phaeton appeared, washed out by their prison of darkness. "And the right counter spell. Take care of them while I get the others, Kevin."

 

"Will do." Reilly asked for help from the staff medic with his cell phone. He held both of the freed magistrates up, walking them out of the morgue. He didn't want them to see Silver on a slab as the first thing back in the real world.

 

The Chemist wrote on the air. He stepped into the gate, looked at New York when his unmatching eyes cleared. Maker should be another easy one. Then John Public, who would be slightly harder. He would have to send them back to the sickbay when he got them together.

 

The Chemist had to orient himself before taking a smaller step to the stadium where John and Maker had put on their show. He touched a wall, writing a symbol. He wrote another. Maker fell out of the wall, senseless. He wrote on her forehead to ensure she would heal and to send her to Reilly.

 

He would know what to do when the engineer appeared at the medical station.

 

Chemist pulled out sunglasses and covered his face. He had to get John back from being split up among the various people he used as a battery to enhance his being. To do that, he needed to locate a piece to use to locate the rest. One shaky finger wrote the word he wanted.

 

The Chemist limped around the stadium, hunting for one person who would do. He found a group of them working in a nearby fast food place. He made a pretense to order, touching the counter girl's hand with a nervous squiggle of his finger. When he walked away, he held a tiny disc the size of a dime.

 

The Chemist wrote a set of words on the disc, concentrating to make the signs as tiny as he could. Other pieces appeared, adjoining to the original until John Public appeared. He seemed almost his old self as the Chemist sent him back to the Tower.