The Henchman

    They appear in so many stories. People who, due to some kind of science experiment gone wrong, end up with superpowers and they always end up being these kind, loving heroes who selflessly dedicate their lives to fighting crime, rather than, say, taking a job in the construction industry or enlisting in the army where super strength and the ability to fly would actually be useful. Usually, the kind of people who frequent new science experiments are either geeky types who would much rather stay indoors in front of their computer or the type of person who is so stupid as to volunteer to be a subject for secret experiments. Or, at least, stupid enough to not realise that he’s been kidnapped. Now, for a little realism, let’s take a look at the results when someone realistic gets superpowers.



:- Secret US research facility
:- Somewhere in the Mojave Desert
:- California, USA

    Deep underground, in the bowels of the research facility, one man, a heavily built tank of a man dressed in a white sheet, is standing in the middle of a white room. Each of his limbs is shackled to either the floor or ceiling. Along one wall is a long, mirrored observation window, very thick and well shielded from pretty much everything. Behind it, several scientists are observing and starting to panic. In the room, the huge man is not only the focus of their observation, but he is also the focus of several extremely scientific-looking devices. But that’s not all that’s focussing on him.

    Up high, millions of miles away in the depths of space, something astrologically unique is happening. A comet, a huge lump of hurtling space rock, soars past Mars and then Saturn, changing their orbits ever so slightly but ever so significantly. Unpredicted, the planets and even their moons are aligning…focussing…

    But it turns out that that wasn’t all this particular comet did. On it’s way through the solar system, it passed close by the sun before the star’s gravity slung it away again. The disturbance affected the behaviour of the star, creating flares and sunspots that, funnily enough, focussed huge amounts of cosmic rays…

    So many things focussing. The approach of the summer solstice, the praying of secretive cults, maybe an alien or two, the storm overhead…

    ”We’re in a desert!” one of the observing scientists yells. “Why on earth, on the very day we experiment with exotic matter, does a storm turn up?”
“Sod’s law.” A second, British scientist shrugs. “You can never trust the weather.”
“In a desert!? If one lightning strike hits the reactor…”
*CRASH*
“Like that?”
“Crap.”
*BOOM*
On the far side of the observation window, the air turns green and sparkly. The man, suddenly hit by every type of superpower-inducing thingy at once, tries to double over in pain. The instruments suspended from the ceiling whirr and fire their exotic particles everywhere, accompanied by weird lights, making the place look like a disco. Far overhead, the violent hum of the reactor reaches pain threshold, and explodes.

    When the smoke clears away, one figure is left standing at the very bottom of the crater. Instead of the standard medical-lab-test-subject gown he’d been wearing, he is now covered in a strangely tight-fitting brightly coloured costume. Yes, with the underpants on the outside. His cape flutters in the wind as, with his newfound super strength, he begins turning over the rubble, looking for survivors.



:- The Secret Fortress
:- On a volcanic, tropical island
:- Somewhere on the Pacific Rim

    ”How easily can it be done?” Brutus asked. Tom stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at the monitor.
“Fairly easily, I would think.” Simon replied. “Though I don’t usually trade people’s services on my black market. You’re the one people call to secure favours.”
“Yes, but the research department has been suspiciously short of people owing me favours recently. Probably because of this.”
“Maybe. How long do you want her watched for? And how closely?”
“For the moment, just while she’s at work.” Brutus rubbed his chin as he pondered. “I want her watched close enough to tell who she talks to and the gist of what she says.”
“That’ll be difficult.” Simon rubbed his chin. “Ok, shall we say two hundred per three days?”
“Get real, not even I can afford that. A hundred a week.”
“Come on. I’ll need to get more than one person to tail her and they’ll both need paying. On top of that, I expect a little profit for my effort.”
“Talk to a high-up researcher or one of the admin staff and get someone partnered with her. That should cut your costs.” Tom offered.
Simon sighed. “Ok, if I do that then it’s one hundred and sixty a week.”
“Ok, just for one week to start.” Brutus confirmed. “I’ll call if I want to extend it.”
“Great. Talk later.”
“Bye”.
The monitor went black.

    ”Why do you want to spy on Anya so much?” Tom asked as they strolled out of the security office on patrol.
“A few reasons.” Brutus explained. “She’s been faring rather well lately.”
“That’s sufficient reason to fork out a hundred and sixty?”
“Yes, it is.” Brutus sighed, foreseeing the long explanation ahead. “To start with, how long has she been here?”
“Uh…three or four weeks?” Tom hazarded.
“Pretty much.” Brutus agreed. “And within the first three or four days she’d managed to become firmly settled with her co-workers. A week after that, she was indispensable, according to her immediate superior. Then there was the incident with the Geek, just before I went on holiday.”
“But you set that one up!” Tom protested.
“Yeah, I know.” Brutus admitted reluctantly. He had a slight suspicion that he might have been played a little there, though he had profited from it. He’d subsequently spent a lot of time examining the video he’d sold, looking for any clue that Anya knew she was being filmed.
“The point I’m making is that she either seems to be very lucky or she’s manipulating people.”
“So you’re going to try and catch her out?”
“Right. She hasn’t done anything much for a while, so she has no reason to suspect she’s being watched. We’ll just wait for the next big event to come by and see what her reaction is.”
Almost as if it was waiting for the cue, the pager at Brutus’ belt beeped.
“Turn about, Tom.” Brutus stopped as he read the message. “The Geek’s got something urgent.”

    Back at his seat, Brutus brought up the Geek’s video stream.
“What’s so urgent, John?” he asked.
“That’s The Geek!” The Geek snapped. “I’ve picked up something urgent from the net. Standard charge.”
“Stop charging me for essential information, Geek. It’s getting tiresome.” Brutus complained.
“Standard charge.” The Geek repeated.
“How would you like No. 6 to see what you’ve been using his equipment for? The CCTV’s pretty good in your office.”
“Even after it’s been hacked and wiped?” The Geek asked.
“Wiped? Including the old tape players I hooked up directly to your camera feed as a backup?”
The Geek’s expression changed as he tried to decide if Brutus was bluffing.
“Ok, fifteen.” he amended, halving the price.
“Ten.”
“Fine.” The Geek sniffed. “There are stories pouring in from all over the net. A new crime fighter.”
“Valentine got a new crony?” Brutus asked.
“Just do a net search for ‘The Superhero’.” The Geek replied woodenly. “See what you can dig up.”
Brutus hesitated. Something was off with the Geek. He wasn’t acting quite right. He and Brutus had a standing agreement that the Henchman got first refusal on any info. Brutus sometimes paid well to keep some things just between him and the Geek.
“You haven’t told anyone else yet, have you?” Brutus asked, eyes narrowing.
The Geek’s expression gave him the answer.
“I…” he began.
“Who?” Brutus demanded.
“Um…it’s kinda delicate.” The Geek squirmed. “You won’t pass this on?”
“Nope.”
“Anya.”
“Why?” Brutus asked, sensing trouble. “She got something on you?”
Again, the open book that was the Geek’s face said it all.
“Ok, I see.” Brutus continued, not waiting for an answer. “I won’t ask what it is. But do me a favour and tell me if she asks for more. I’m sure payment can be arranged.”
The Geek nodded and abruptly logged out.
“What’s up?” Brutus wondered aloud. He could feel something beginning and Anya was already involved.

    Brutus had half been expecting a prank from the Geek. But where an internet search for ‘The Superhero’ would normally turn up movies, comic books and the like, now it was full of news reports.
“Seems he was the subject of some kind of nuclear experimentation.” Tom offered from his PC desk.
“I’ve got planetary alignment and sunspot activity as the cause here.”
“Oh, and someone thinks it’s aliens.”
“Not many people seem to like him, though.” Brutus observed.
“How come?”
“He’s an idiot. He’s seen too many comics about superheroes, how they fly to the rescue of damsels in distress, rescue puppies and the like. He has a naïve sense of justice and a knack for unthinking vandalism. He spent one hot afternoon flying above San Antonio, Texas, finding dogs trapped in cars and ripping the roofs off to get them out. Carelessly tossing the roofs aside, I might add, before losing interest and letting the dogs run away. That event alone involved twelve counts of criminal damage, one count of assault and eight counts of dogs running loose around the city.”
“Good god.”
“The next report’s even better. He dropped through the roof of a building to rescue a woman who was tied up and about to be sacrificed in a strange pagan ritual.”
“How’s that bad?”
“He didn’t notice all the cameras, microphones and lighting around. They were filming a new archaeology action movie, but he just turned up when she screamed for help.”
“How do you think this will affect us?” Tom asked, shaking his head.
At both of their belts, the pagers beeped.
“I think we’re about to find out.” Brutus replied. “This one’s straight from Dave.”
“The Dark Master.” Tom agreed. “This can’t be good.”



:- The Long Meeting Room
:- High in the Secret Fortress
:- On a select bit of evil-villain real estate

    The Dark Master was sitting at the head of the long oval table, his back to a large window that overlooked most of the island and the Secret Fortress’ lower buildings. Down each side of the table sat the Numbers, the higher-ranking ones sitting nearer the Dark Master. No. 2 was at his right hand. Brutus and Tom, along with a few other people, stood to attention at the foot of the table.
“Gentleman. I am sure you are all aware of this latest development.” The Dark Master began in a tone that said he expected exactly the opposite. “A new breed of law-enforcer has appeared. A self-proclaimed Superhero.” He waved at the TV monitors that were set in each of the other three walls, all of which were flicking between clips of the various news reports that featured the Superhero.
“This Superhero seems to have genuine super powers.” No. 2 continued for him, leaning forward. “No-one seems to know how he got them, but the ability to replicate them would be extremely beneficial to the Dark Master’s cause.”
Brutus caught the inflection in those last few words, along with the quick glance she gave him.
“My lieutenants and I have discussed the matter at length and we have decided on the following course of action.” The Dark Master stated, beginning to work his way into ‘big evil speech’ mode. “The Superhero will be lured here, captured and held for research. We will uncover the secrets to his power and apply it to our own troops. With an army of such men, we could rule the world!”
“It has been agreed that No. 5’s Henchman will liaise with a group of researchers selected by No. 4.” No. 2 added, nipping The Dark Master’s speech in the bud.
“We don’t have any specialist in this kind of area.” No. 4 protested. “I’m not even sure what area this is. I can’t assign any one scientist to oversee the project.”
“We will have one of the administration staff co-ordinate the project.” No. 2 interrupted. “Regardless, you will first have to find a way to lure him here and trap him. No. 2’s Agents and No. 6’s Hackers will try to provide you will all the information they can. All your other non-essential duties will be reassigned to someone else while you focus on this problem.”
The Dark Master nodded at all this.
“And when we succeed,” he added, determined to get his speech rolling again, “you will not find me ungrateful. You will be well rewarded when I rule the world.”
“Now report to your Number’s office for further briefing.” No. 2 dismissed them.

    The briefing was long and painful. As soon as they reported to No. 5, they all went to meet the other departments to brainstorm the idea. Administration had put one of their middle managers forward to manage the project, a 40 year old man called Frank who managed the PAs of the various researchers. R&D had outlined all the different methods they had to restrain someone and the Hackers had already found a way to lure the Superhero. Apparently, saying his adopted Superhero name was enough. He heard it from thousands of miles away and thought you were calling for help. This was the reason why he was generically referred to as ‘The Superhero’.

    ”This…could be difficult.” Brutus commented after the meeting was over.
“Why?”
“Because we’ve got rather a large collection of restraint tech. Taser lightning weapons, laser confinement grids, nerve gases and good old solid steel. It won’t take the R&D guys long to put together a trap room and lure that idiot of a superhero there. Either it will work, in which case the Dark Master wins and we get replaced by idiots with more muscle than brain, or the Superhero escapes and runs amok through the Secret Fortress, possibly killing us along the way.”
“Why not suggest to set up the trap in some other place and arrange to blow it up when the Superhero turns up?”
“Won’t work.” Brutus shook his head. “I found where the Superhero came from. By all accounts, he survived the explosion of an experimental nuke reactor. Besides, the Dark Master wants to keep him here, where we can use all our tech to investigate him.”
“So how do we get out of this one?”
“Well we can’t let the Dark Master get him… we’ll have to sabotage the trap. That’ll be easy enough.”
“But then the Superhero will run rampant.” Tom protested. “The Americans have already tried to arrest him twice and failed. Conventional weapons don’t touch him.”
“I know, I know. But there’s too much to do here. Not only have we got to drive the Superhero out of here, but we’ve got to stop him coming back and we’ve got to somehow dissuade the Dark Master from trying to lure him back into another trap.”
“If the US Army can’t force him away, how are we going to manage it?”
“Maybe…maybe we’re thinking about this the wrong way…” Brutus mused.



:- Two short weeks of rapid construction later…

    The Room really looked the business, Brutus had to admit. It had been built into the mountainside of the Secret Fortress. Four holes had been bored into the hard volcanic rock, two down into the floor and two horizontally into the mountain. Four thick tempered steel bolts had been set in them, secured in every way imaginable. On the ends of the bolts were the heaviest manacles that Brutus had ever seen. Focussing on the spot where the manacles would hold The Superhero was the nastiest array of restraining devices ever seen, lasers and electric stunners predominating. On top of that, the room had been fitted with many tiny vents, allowing it to be filled with Halon, a selection of nerve gases, or evacuated completely, depending on what worked. The walls had been lined with steel, the only entrance consisted of three blast doors and the roof, presently open to the skies, was also capable of containing a bunker-bursting explosion. The size of the rig above the room showed exactly how much effort was needed just to keep the massive reinforced slabs of steel and concrete from sliding into place. The Dark Master had taken such pride and interest in it, supervising it almost every waking moment, that Brutus had barely managed to introduce one tiny error that would ensure the Superhero’s escape…a small explosive in one of the bolts that, when set off would allow the Superhero to pull the bolt out with ease, severing a nearby power cable as he did so.. The sudden transfer to backup power would allow The Geek to open the blast doors enough for the Superhero to get a grip. At least, Brutus hoped.
“And you’ve definitely set up the canine experimentation suite?” Brutus asked Simon, the black market researcher.
“Yes, you’ve seen it yourself.” Simon repeated. “The researcher Chris gave me a hand. Five young dogs, secured to tables with some old gear set up around them.”
“Good. How about you, Geek?” He asked, turning his attention to his communicator.
“I’ve had a practice run.” The Geek confirmed, his voice made fuzzy by the radio. “I can promise you he’ll have his chance.”
“Good. And Tom…did you get the technicians to install the modifications to the PA system?”
“Yes.”
“And the henchman?”
“All the ones on your list are now armed and ready. They’ll move on your word.”
“Right…right.” Brutus wrung his hands. “Ok, we’ve got an hour. Make sure that you’ve got your end covered. Any problems, talk to me immediately. And if the Superhero goes off the preset track, get out of the Fortress as quickly as you can!”



:- One hour later, in the Dark Master’s Meeting room.
:- The Secret Fortress

    ”…will show the world how easily this avatar of so-called justice falls before our might!” The Dark Master was saying to his Numbers. All were standing at the window, looking out at the huge structure that sat atop the Trap Room. From here, they could just make out the four-foot split in the curved concrete roof, the split that would soon hammer closed.
“And now,” The Dark Master continued, his finger poised above a large red button, “Let our master plan begin!”
He pushed the button.

    Back in the trap room, set in the floor at the focus of the traps, a small speaker chirped up.
“Oh no, whatever will I do?” It pleaded dramatically in Anya’s voice. “Who will save me now? Please, Hyperman, help me!”

    Far away, pausing in his task of stuffing a youth into a green recycling bin for littering, the Superhero heard.
“I hope you learned your lesson!” He told the crippled teenager sternly. Then, leaving the boy to pry himself out of the compostables, he took to they skies.

    And with a flash of light and a thump as he landed, The Superhero struck a pose.
“I’ll save you, damsel in distress!” he declared in a macho voice so full of drama that everyone who heard it felt the urge to gag.
Before he could turn to look at his surroundings, the manacles had snaked forward, snatched his arms and locked themselves back against the bolts, spread-eagling the man. The lasers fired, the electric guns filled him with enough voltage to paralyze a heard of cows and the room began filling up with a gaseous sedative. The Superhero pulled at the manacles. Then pulled again. And again, the muscles on his chest shunting back and forward. Metal groaned. The bolts, strong enough to moor any five ocean liners you cared to name, began to move slightly.

“Brutus!” Tom cried. “He’s pulling out one of the bolts!”
“Right!” Brutus shouted, hitting his own button.

    Back in the trap room, there was a bang and one of the bolts suddenly gave way, thundering into the room and rebounding off the sealed roof, taking out most of the equipment. The lighting flicked over from white to the emergency red. The doors slid open, just a fraction. In barely a second, The Superhero ripped apart the shackles with his free hand and leaped towards the door, pulling it open ever so slowly.
**Hyperman…** a mystery voice from the PA system said.
The Superhero paused in his task, the doors nearly open.
**Hyperman, there are those here that support your crusade. With our aid, you can stop their evil scheme.**
“Can you hear me?” he asked.
**Of course I can. Will you accept our help?**
“I would be honoured to fight alongside you!” The comic-book-brained man replied in a voice of pure noble.
**Good. They plan on turning people into werewolves by extracting the relevant genetic information from dogs. They have a lab…** The voice began explaining.
“Ger…nair…?”
**They’re torturing puppies.** the mystery voice translated irritably. **Open the doors and I will direct you to them. Hurry!**
“Right!”
With renewed effort, the Superhero tugged on the doors, ripping them apart. He bounded down the corridor, straight into the path of a pack of guards.
“There he is!” A henchman cried. “Brutus was right, he did escape! Open fire!”
Five streams of bullets and two lasers played across the Superhero’s skin as he jumped into the fight. In true Batman fashion, heavy thuds and smacks echoed around the corridor as henchman went flying, one exiting through the roof.
**Head to your left!** the nearest speaker told the Superhero as he held the last body of the henchman and gave it a flurry of slaps.
“Right!” The Superhero bounded away again, leaving behind a wake of near-solid enthusiasm. A few corridors, a few turns and several more packs of guards later, The Superhero arrived in a lab room. Old equipment surrounded five tables, each with a struggling Alsatian lightly strapped down. Strangely enough, there were no researchers or scientists around, only another group of henchman guards.
“Halt evildoers!” The Superhero declared, posing in the doorway.
The word **sheesh** came faintly over the PA system. The guards didn’t wait for the Superhero to continue and attacked. Guns fired, bones broke, people screamed and the dogs howled. Within a short space of time, the guards lay about the room, every piece of equipment lay broken, including the tables, and the Superhero tore off the last restraint.
“Fear no more, innocent creature. You are now free!”
**Congratulations!** the PA encouraged the Superhero. **Take them somewhere where they will be safe.**
“Sure.” The Superhero replied. “Your help was invaluable. Why not flee this place with me and aid in upholding justice throughout the world?”
**Your offer is generous, Hyperman. But I must stay here and make sure this place falls. I will speak your name if I ever again need your help.**
“Be safe, ally of justice.” The Superhero declared, before grabbing all five dogs in one wide sweep of his arm and launching out through the roof.
**Well thank god for…**
The Superhero reappeared in a rain of concrete, brick and plaster.
“I shame my own name!” He declared, anguish clear in his voice. “I failed to rescue the damsel who called me here!”
**Oh, she’s in the next room.**



:- Security Control, The Secret Fortress
:- Under a plume of dust and smoke
:- Somewhere on the Pacific Rim.

    Brutus put down his headset and grinned smugly at the CCTV screen. He still got a real kick out of watching the footage of the Superhero bursting through the wall of that room, snatching the screaming figure that was Anya up in his arms and exiting via the roof.
“How’s the aftermath coming along?” He asked Tom as his second in command walked through the door.
“Fine.” Tom replied. “The investigation simply came up with the bare fact that the Superhero was far stronger than we thought. Dave suggested building a bigger trap room, but No. 2 managed to persuade him out of it. She said we couldn’t afford him to run amok again.”
“And Dave didn’t ask why he left so suddenly?”
“After the Superhero rescued the person who called him? No.”
Brutus grinned again. Aside from putting one over on The Dark Master, which was always fun, Brutus had taken a bit of business initiative. Since he was responsible for setting up the scene for the Superhero, he had sold off the right to put equipment in the room. The Hackers and R&D staff had jumped at the chance. All of their old gear had been put there, five servers from the Geek, a mass spectrometer and an old electron microscope from R&D and a few other bits and pieces. All had been destroyed and all items would now be replaced with brand new equipment. And Brutus’ pockets had been lined for the privilege. And to top it all off…
“So how’s Anya getting on?” He asked smugly. “I guess she’s stranded on the other side of the world now with only that idiot for company.”
“Uh, actually no. A communiqué came through half an hour ago. She managed to convince him to drop her off in Hawaii. The Supply and Transport department can’t get a boat to her for a few weeks, so the Dark Master himself wired her enough money to keep her going. More than enough, in fact. I guess No. 2 had a hand in that.” Tom relayed, watching Brutus’ falling expression as he spoke. By the end, his colleague was gritting his teeth.
“How on earth did she manage that!?” He demanded at last. So his efforts to take her down a peg had come to nought. And on top of that, the man he’d paid to follow her now had no chance of finding anything. One hundred and sixty pounds wasted.

The Henchman is copyright of Inkblot (2009)