Ficool

Chapter 35 - WASHINGTON D.C. JULY 4, 23:02 UTC -4 TEAM YEAR ZERO

<"Time runs short. You must awaken. You must awaken now!">

I gasped.

Bound. Arms above my head. A reinforced glass surface allowing me to see outside of the containment pod. Various devices were visible on the interior of the pod, including tools for cutting and other perhaps surgical machinery.

Head woozy, I tried to gain my bearings and frowned the moment I saw, slightly at an angle, the others were trapped. Robin to my right, then Troia, then Aqualad. Conscious and as delirious as I was. But… Kid Flash? Where had he gone?

Looming in the center of the darkened chamber was a disheveled Kryptonian clone. Still within the deepest levels of Cadmus, they'd stuffed us into pods like the one he had called home. His bright blue eyes shone in the lights emanating from the pods, and the bruise someone had left on him during the fight was still visible on his left cheek.

I was not about to stay here any longer if I could help it. I tested the restraints, but they didn't budge. A blast from my eyes might get me out, and if I had something like Adrius's Exception, I could just blast the door open. The neuroshock blasts were more laser than concussive, but less superheated than regular laser.

But if I wanted to try that, I might set the clone off again.

… Information.

I needed information.

Apparently Aqualad was on the same page, because he asked, "Where is Kid Flash?"

A long moment of hesitation before Superboy spoke for the first time. "He ran."

Oh.

That was good news.

Very good news.

There would be a League response within the hour, surely.We only needed to stall long enough for us to survive this, then the mentors of the others would be here to kick ass and take names.

I was curious to hear of their reactions to all of this. Batman, the Flash, and Aquaman had no intentions of the three sidekicks forging ahead alone. Wonder Woman had only ever trained Troia as a Themiscyran warrior, not as a Leaguer. And… Superman had no idea this clone existed.

I pressed the next question in my mind. "Why do you want what Cadmus wants?"

Superboy tilted his head as though he did not understand the question.

"There's a big damn world out there," I said simply. "And a big universe full of other worlds beyond it. And your creators stuffed you down here? I've seen a lot of things in the universe, but creating you and then keeping you a big secret and locked away is one of the worst."

The clone did not initially respond. Maybe he could sense how much I was lying through my teeth – I'd witnessed the army of the Triarchy carpet bombing rebel hideouts with Reach tech.

This was nothing.

Robin cut in. "What's worse is that you listened to them, when they don't want what's good for you."

"How would you know what is good for me?"

The youngest simply responded, "Because Superman wouldn't want this for you."

The name earns a momentary fraction of anger visible across the clone's features.

"What makes you think Superman knows what is good?"

He did not ask it in a challenging way – the demeanor shifted, and he almost looked genuinely curious. Conflicted. He was insecure, and why wouldn't he be?

"Because he is Superman," I answered. "He's a paragon people try to follow. Does he always get it right? No – he's as flawed as any of us – but he wouldn't want you under their control beating up the sidekicks of his teammates."

He said nothing.

Troia needled in. "How much do you know of who you are?"

Almost robotically, the clone responded. "I am the Superboy. A genomorph. A clone made from the DNA of the Superman. Created to replace him should he perish, to destroy him should he turn from the light."

Damn.

They created him and planned for the long haul. These scientists planned for a weapon to take down Clark.

"What Cadmus has done here is an injustice, Superboy," Aqualad added.

"I live because of Cadmus!" He bellowed. "It is my home."

"I am glad you were made," I said simply. "But Cadmus did not birth you out of the kindness of their hearts. You're a genetic weapon to them, but you don't have to be what they made you."

Troia tilted her head at that. "Did they dominate your will? Make you listen? Make you attack us?"

The clone's frown grew with each statement. We needed to drive a wedge so that he could resist their control. I didn't see any of those G-Gnomes in the room, and I had to hope that meant a good sign.

"A-and if I wasn't? In control?"

"Then you deserve to be free, not a tool in their belt," I answered simply. "I don't know how they did it, but Cadmus made a person. As a person, you have the right to make choices of your own."

I remembered – so long ago now – philosophy courses in college during the first life. This scenario reminded me of a free will project one of my classmates made, using the idea of hypnosis as a key argument about determinism. If you only ever knew what people told you, and that those people told you the wrong things, then could you be blamed if you did the wrong things? Or did you have an inherent will to go your own way?

"If you decide you want to kick our ass because you want to, then by all means – try." Robin glared at me. "But if you let Cadmus make that choice, all you're doing is continuing their injustice. Allowing them to control you further."

Superboy hesitated, and it was in that hesitation that we would win. That we would turn him against his creators. He wasn't there yet, but it would be glorious.

Imagine how proud Superman would be if I helped deliver his son to him. That kind of gift would lead to life-long trust, and I'd need him one day to help against the Reach. I doubted three of Scarlet Scarab working in perfect tandem could defeat Superman.

"Help us get free," Aqualad started. "We know Superman. We can introduce you."

The hope in Superboy's conflicted eyes was almost too much to bear.

The whirring of the door opening forced me to tense, and I felt power growing in my eyes. I did not release it but instead held it at the ready, watching as a scientist entered the room alongside the hero Guardian and several genomorphs. And, terrifyingly, an unconscious Kid Flash in the telekinetic grip of a horned genomorph.

That scientist walked with the kind of cadence that made me think he was the head honcho, the one who had delivered Cadmus their prized cloned experiment. What a waste of knowledge. The kind of cloning tech on display here could change the world for good, could push Earth onto a galactic stage. Even a half-dozen Superboys could revolutionize Earth's ability to defend itself, or even to go on the offense.

"Activate the cloning process," the researcher stated, and whoa. "And get the weapon back in its pod!"

They were going to clone us.

Us.

Fuck.

A half-dozen of me with the Gift? That might be worse than of Superboy.

"Let Kid Flash go!" Robin shouted in desperation.

"I don't think I will – reverse engineering what makes him so so fast will be incredible," the man stated simply.

"Help us." Aqualad pled with his eyes, and Superboy was so close.

Close enough for me.

I let the energy loose. Twin blasts of light erupted from my eyes. They struck the bindings on my left wrist at the same time that I pulled with all of my might, and it was barely enough to pull one of them apart. With a dedicated hand free, I was able to more easily remove the second. A solid kick to the front, using all the might I could bear, hurled the front of the pod feet away to skitter to a halt.

The researcher backed away several paces, shouting for someone to do something. Guardian moved to intercept, face almost apologetic, while Superboy hesitated in place. I spotted the G-Gnome on the retreating scientist's shoulder start to glow, and it was pure instinct that brought Guardian's arm buckler up in time to deflect my eye blast from taking out the creature.

"You standing there or are you going to do something?" I shouted to the clone.

The telekinetic genomorph holding onto Kid Flash started to slowly retreat, pulling the speedster with him, but I moved.

Two G-Elves leaped into my path, claws first, and twin cuts along my shoulders dripped blood onto the cavernous floor. Wincing in pain, I pushed them both away with a flex of the arm, shot a look back to see Robin unlatching his restraints somehow – and knew they had it.

Becoming like the cavern wall, I raced ahead to chase the researcher that likely started all of this. Information about all of Cadmus and its wrongdoings was right there, and I was halfway to the door when I felt a telepathic urging from the creature on the hurried man's shoulder. The urge to stop, the urge to turn around, was the only warning before Guardian struck my armored back with the shield on his arm.

Genomorph chaos was all I could see as I turned to engage the likely dominated hero. There were more than a dozen of the agile creatures with razor claws attacking my friends, some before they were even fully out of their pods. Troia had to divert one from her back while she undid Aqualad's restraints.

"You're not cloning me!" I shouted to Guardian, shouted to the retreating doctor. "And I'm sorry, but you're not taking me down."

We traded blows back and forth, and he was a smart enough fighter to hold his own against a powered opponent. Even still, his shield was the most dangerous thing about him, and if it were even remotely close to vibranium, I might have respected it. Such as it was, it could do very little damage to the cavern wall armor my flesh possessed.

I finally managed a glancing blow to his ribcage, sending him spiraling back to the ground and knocking one of the G-Elves down behind him. Two more took its place, and I was far more concerned with their ability to cut me when one of them managed to chip as it struck.

"We need to get to KF!"

I nodded to Robin even as he tried to create distance, two electric wires zapping sense into an assailant. Thundering footsteps down the hallway preceeded the G-Trolls that entered the fray, and I, yet again, was frustrated that Superboy had yet to fight – on either side. Kid Flash was through that door, and we needed to cut some space!

Aqualad broke a valve carrying water for the fire sprinkler system and then twisted the ensuing water into a deluge of damage to a half-dozen genomorphs. It cleared a path for Troia to fly forward and slam, fist-first, into the first G-Troll's spiky carapace. Its flesh dented at the place of impact and remained that way even as it slammed into the ceiling above it and collapsed to the ground.

It did not get up.

Blood pooled from its wound like a punctured water balloon.

Two more threatened us immediately, and she set out to do her best, not bothering or able to hold back. Until Superboy started to move for us, we were on our own, and with a whirling dervish of superpowered Amazonian fists, maybe we didn't need him.

But I wasn't going to abandon the clone who deserved to live, who could not be allowed to serve Cadmus and their aims.

"Big guy, I know you don't know us, but we want to give you a life. A life you won't get here. Fight!" Robin shouted even as he flipped to the side, landed in a crouch, drew his cape around him, and then tossed four projectiles that left two G-Elves a simmering heap.

Aqualad sprinted into the corridor to assist Troia and to follow Kid Flash. We almost made it just as a G-Troll threw me to the floor with nothing but its pure massive body weight and tightened musculature. I stood in frustration, another of my limited number of eye blasts searing into its flesh.

<"The speedster plays possum.">

I froze as the Troll threw its shoulder forward, and I rolled to a stop several feet away, chipped armor groaning.

<"I will ensure the clone leaves with you, but I must remain here to protect my kind. Please, do no more permanent harm.">

The G-Troll hadn't gotten the hidden memo from the mysterious voice, and I narrowly avoided a stomping leg to my head. Troia kicked at the offending monster with her own smaller leg, but was no less lethal. The echoing crack of bone was impressive.

"Who are you?!"

Aqualad shot a confused look even as he swung a construct mace of hard-water into the head of the mammoth-like monster. It snapped back like it had taken a serious haymaker, stunned.

<"Later. You must escape now.">

When I spotted the Kryptonian clone rushing forward, I almost tensed to prep for pure annihilation. Instead, he leaped past me and sent a hammering, pulverizing fist into a G-Troll that blocked the path, knocking two more down behind it. Another joined it as Troia swung the creature itself to the right, and it bounced off the damaged wall and into the last of them, both falling to the floor.

"Guys, someone's-"

<"No.">

The word was so forceful I had no choice but to hold. It was a telepathic sensation equivalent to a cold shower, and I froze under its strength.

<"Cadmus cannot know that I an a telepath. You must escape, and I must continue my hidden vigil to keep my kind safe.">

The command pulled away slowly, and my own faculties returned to me. Frustrated, I wanted to ask if he was the one holding Kid Flash, apparently playing unconscious, but before I could verbalize the question, he confirmed it.

<"Superboy must not encounter more G-Gnomes. Their telepathic commands are individually weaker, but collectively stronger than I. If he is subverted again, there is nothing I can do. Escape. Now.">

I met Superboy's eyes.

"Glad to see you saw the light," Robin muttered as he raced to join us. He beamed toward the Kryptonian clone. "Way I see it, we got about fifteen seconds before all these genomorphs finish birthing."

He was right – G-Elves, G-Trolls, and more were emerging from their amniotic sacs by the moment, sprays of odd smelling liquids filling the corridor.

"Find Kid Flash?" Troia suggested, looking uneasily toward the clone.

"I can see him," Superboy murmured. "He is not far."

"Lead the way," Aqualad suggested, a bit of praise in his eyes to see the clone working with us, not against us.

Cadmus was not going to like any of this. If they were anything like the JLU version, they had the full weight of the U.S. government's taxpayer dollars to maintain security and build solutions for the superpowered threats to the world. I did not want to be on Amanda Waller's shitlist. Even if they weren't quite as impactful as the JLU version, they were still highly dangerous with an army of genomorphs to contract out.

Finding Kid Flash hovering in the grip of a horned genomorph's mind power, while said assailant waited for us to arrive, did not take long. As soon as I saw him, it clicked that this was the owner of the voice in my head, and I didn't know if the others knew what I did.

"Let him go, and we won't kick your ass," Robin challenged.

<"Make it convincing for the camera footage.">

I did not need to be told twice.

A zap from my neuroshock eyes did not strike the genomorph but instead the defensive storage container he raised with his mind instead. The maneuver dropped Kid Flash to the ground, and Aqualad raced forward to pull the speedster to safety.

Superboy, enraged, raced to the forefront but was telekinetically hurled into the ceiling, then the floor, then the walls. Troia tossed a piece of rebar, but he caught that projectile too, easily, and tossed it aside. Aqualad formed his shield in front of him, then blasted bolts of water from its surface, peppering the space with bursts of spiky, icy water.

The attacks did not land, but they did finally get me time to try to wake Kid Flash. And Robin time to blind the mutant with a flashbang gadget and then summarily prep to finish. Kid Flash wasn't responding – though from the half-lidded eyes and the hasty thumbs-up, it was clear this was a mirage.

And, then, the horned genomorph merely halted, hesitated, like a record skip. The moment gave me the opening and a neuroshock blast struck the mutant in the torso, before he could finish recovering with a telekinetic defense.

Kid Flash finally woke – or stopped pretending – and merely half-smirked as he raced to join the fray.

"C'mon, c'mon, we gotta go! Gotta go!"

More genomorphs pursued us down the hall, still wet with amniotic fluid. Robin gestured toward another corridor and shouted, "We need a miracle!"

Superboy and Kid Flash joined us as we raced in a different direction, angling for the stairwell and not the closing elevator. Troia did not follow us, instead racing for the doorway and pulling the shaft open in a fit of frustration.

"The researcher – he heads up!"

"Let's pull him down then," I muttered to Superboy and Aqualad.

Changing trajectories – and Kid Flash raced to give us a clear space to move, three Elves turned into heaps on the ground – we bounded for the elevator shaft.

Troia caught on quickly. With a burst of speed, she took off into the shaft and gripped at the bottom of the elevator car, now several sublevels up. I became like steel the moment I made purchase and then began to pull. The sound of heaving, groaning metal echoed throughout the chamber.

Superboy similarly took off into the air to join us. He flew and touched the bottom, making a grab for the metal, but… something was wrong.

He dangled.

No leverage.

"Why – why can't I fly?"

Without his strength contribution, the elevator car merely slowed but did not stop. The scientist likely reached his destination, and I frowned in frustration.

"The others – we gotta get them out of there," I suggested, pointing toward the base of the shaft where the light from Aqualad's active magic tattoos filtered into the darkness.

"But I- I should be able to-"

"No time," I stated again and let go of the car, falling in free fall but making a note that the scientist had disembarked somewhere in sublevel twenty.

<"The genomorph hive is fully active. I estimate you have approximately two minutes before you are overrun. I am doing all that I can to stall, but my position cannot be comprised. I am all that stands between Cadmus and the people I protect.">

"Would you get out of my head?" I shouted as Troia landed nearby gracefully, while a dejected Superboy merely slammed down in a heap that left a crater on the floor. "We get it. Too dangerous to go after the bad guy. We have to escape."

Kid Flash looked as though he wanted to say something, but he was too distracted by the oncoming horde to really verbalize the thought. When a torrent of water whips from Aqualad brought him a moment to think, he gestured toward his head and tapped his temple.

"I-I've got info, but if we wanna take advantage of it, it's a risk. Could make everything a lot worse."

"This isn't already worse?" Robin asked, a batarang between each finger, ready to throw. "We need a hail mary."

"No," I said simply. "This has gotten far bigger than any of us expected."

Kid Flash glanced toward Superboy, who still hadn't recovered from the knowledge that he couldn't fly. Maybe it was a skill he could learn – there were versions of Clark that had to learn everything he could do.

"It could get bigger," he merely said, almost apologetically.

"Get topside," I suggested, readying a blast of energy to let loose the moment more turn the corner. "Get a message out. This is already too much."

"We can handle it," Robin tried to say, but I pushed him lightly toward the right as G-Sprites showed their face for the first time, electrical auras crackling around them as they floated almost like cicadas down the hall. He started to protest, but one of the insect-like mutants swung its forelegs toward us and loosed a bolt of power. Aqualad tanked it with nothing but his body alone, tattoos burning to life, skin lightly burning from the effort.

Robin finally sighed then activated his grappeling hook gun. "All right, point taken!"

Troia was the last of us in the corridor, the doors finally snapping shut before the tide of genomorphs could overtake us.

WASHINGTON D.C.

JULY 4, 23:45 UTC -4

TEAM YEAR ZERO

Desmond rubbed at his forehead, trying to understand how he would explain any of this to the board of directors. An excuse that would assuage their anger, mollify their fury, stall their vengeance. The elevator had grinded to a halt somewhere in the teens, too damaged to continue, and both Guardian and Dubbilex were damn useless.

"All genomorphs will move to cut them off at sublevel one," Guardian declared.

Desmond followed him into one of the corridors, more than ten stories away from the sublevel in question, and gestured in frustration. "You're a bloody moron."

How could he not see it?

How could he not have realized it?

"Even if we could get to them in time," he began, "two of them can fly. Project: Kr can clear a path. They are not so limited as to be stopped easily."

"Then what?" Guardian asked. "You said it yourself that we cannot let them escape."

Desmond admired the G-Gnome programming that had settled into Guardian's mind – the subverted hero could not imagine going against his suggestion of teenage murder from earlier, and yet Desmond was far more worried about what the leaders of Cadmus would do to him in return if this failed.

"We do not have reliable muscle to stop them," he said slowly, and yet a realization struck him. "Guardian, come with me.."

Guardian was confused when they started to angle downstairs.

"This isn't going to get us up there faster."

"No, but it will give us the power we need."

Desmond's lab was not far, and even as the two of them ran, it may not have been in time to stall. The G-Gnome on his shoulder filtered information from below into his mind – the idiot kids were mere minutes away from escape, and they tore through any opponent they could.

Their orders had been clear – clone the kids, kill the originals, replace the sidekicks of the Justice League. Easy enough to accomplish, but they needed the strength to actually take down a group with as many heavy-hitters. Kr alone was enough to turn the tide.

No – Desmond had a job to do.

His life was on the line.

As he burst into his office, Guardian in tow, he quickly deactivated the security measures keeping one of their most prized treasures in storage. With a steady hand, Dr. Desmond pulled a vial marked Blockbuster and popped the cap.

"Doc, that is incredibly unsafe – you cannot be thinking of drinking that."

He shook his head. "I'm not."

An order to the G-Gnome on Guardian's shoulder forced the hero to capitulate. With a steady hand, Desmond poured the liquid into Guardian's open mouth. A telepathic command to swallow later, and Guardian began to change.

Desmond did not stop there.

They needed heavy hitters of their own.

Ignoring the agonizing results of Guardian's exposure to the Blockbuster formula behind him, Desmond gripped another vial in hand and tossed it back, drinking the foul liquid.

Muscles popped.

Bones snapped.

Flesh stretched.

Mass shifted.

Organs fluctuated.

Veins elongated.

A pair of opposing brutes roared.

Where Desmond's roar was a dignifed, gorilla-like scream of rage and frustration, Guardian's roar was instead one of agony, muted, different.

Without so much as a word, the two of them began to race through the corridor. Desmond in bounding, controlled leaps while Guardian slithered like a coiled, giant serpent.

More Chapters