The Wounded World, a story of Mantra, Chapter 13

 

 

By Aladdin

Edited by Christopher Leeson

The Wounded World

Originally written 2006

Posted September 21, 2019

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Night of Terror

"Alas for woe, alas for woe, alas for woe,
They cry and tears forever flow." 

 
                                                        William Blake 

 

 

When the world finally stopped spinning, I was holding on to a kitchen counter to keep from falling to the tiles.

 

And this particular kitchen counter, by the way, happened to be my own.

I glanced around, trying to focus. Light was coming in through the window. The sun was setting against the backdrop of a purple haze. Was I ever bleary! It was even hard to think. But, despite that, I was aware enough to glance at the wall calendar.  Under a vintage Norman Rockwell schoolroom painting was hanging the month of September.

But that didn't tell me a lot. 
 
Buck up, Lukasz!

To better fix my time in history, I looked at the digital display on the kitchen clock.  7:16 p.m., September 15.

I frowned without really knowing why.  My gut was telling me that this was not a good date.  But what, exactly, was wrong with it?  Part of me was on alert for something bad to happen, because nothing good had come my way since all this craziness had begun at the Kids' Club at the mall.

Then it hit me -- like a ballista bolt!

"Mommy!"

Evie's frightened cry sent me sprinting into living room – which was empty, by the way. Wanting to check her room next, I took a couple steps forward on rubbery legs, before stumbling to a halt.

Idiot! This was September 15!  Of all the God-awful times and all God-awful places to parachute into!

I 'd been set up to live through "the Night of Terror," and that meant facing all the ghastly disasters that had then stricken the Blake family!

Without a pause for thought, I projected my wizard-sense ahead of me, focusing on the children's bedroom doors.  The feedback was like a hot puff of dragon breath. I mean, it was like getting a big whiff of Boneyard close up. But this thing, whatever it was, smelled even worse; I hadn't had to gag on anything so noxious since confronting Loki, the Norse god of evil.
 
Just a cotton-picking minute! What was I doing?

I was using magic. 

That meant –

In the wink of the eye, my materializing golden armor was firming itself up around my body! I had found myself in the cockpit of a disaster, but yet I was experiencing something good. Something great! Whatever it was that had robbed Mantra of her magical powers hadn't hit me – at least not yet.

And now that I had my mojo back, I was going to hang on to it for dear life!

But Evie's situation was dire.  Gus was now a super-wizard, and Evie was no better than a hostage. Why couldn't I have jumped back in time just ten minutes earlier? Then I would have had room enough to think and to act. 

As things stood, my angry little son had become an angry little wizard – one armed with the powers of a god.  In his state of mind, he was like a cocked revolver.  I had to keep Gus from injuring anyone, especially Evie and me, but going through that door was no kind of answer.  I'd be toast unless I went in hot, slamming into Gus with a rain of my best power-blasts, each one of them strong enough to incapacitate a triceratops.  But if he managed to get in even one solid hit against me, he could eat me for lunch.

The trouble was, I didn't dare fight Gus like I would confront an adult ultra, because I had no way of knowing how strong his defenses were.  Going in too soft would let him take me out, like he'd taken out the other Mantra.  Going in too hard might kill him.  He was a menace to the entire town, so I had no choice about subduing him, and quickly. But I needed to do it without risking anyone's life.

All my choices were bad, but the worst one of all was to stand where I was looking dumb.  If Gus came out and saw me, the battle would be on. The only way to take out the youngster without unleashing mass destruction was to strike with the aid of surprise, and there was no leeway for surprise on this game board.  Reluctantly, I turned phantom and fled from the house through the ceiling.
 
Forgive me, Evie.

#

Out in the open air, I hung suspended above a neighbor's old tract home, my mind racing. Gus didn't hate his sister, I knew. Even so, Gus was programmed to kill anyone who made him angry. I was sorely tempted to teleport Evie out and catch her in my arms. But I knew better.  Teleportation was one of the most exhausting magical feats inside my bag of tricks.  If Gus came looking for his sister, my condition would be pathetic.  I would hardly be able to do so much as fly.  Because my magic was the only thing I had going for me during this crisis, I needed to conserve it -- until I could act with an economy of force.

While mentally groping for a battle plan, I made for the best vantage point around, a location where I could see what was happening while I sorted things out.  The highest structure nearby was the Cangoa Park Elementary School on Topanga Canyon Blvd. It was the kids' own school -- conveniently located at only a short walk from our home on Leadwell Street.  The school building wasn't very tall, though, and its meager height permitted me to see no more than the shingles of our house.

How had I gotten into a position like this? The hardest enemy to fight is one whom a person doesn't want to harm.  That was my predicament. Fortunately, my recent Though-the-Looking-Glass experience had given me some incite into the future. Likewise, I benefited from two years of using magic in difficult situations.  Gus would act like a rampaging bull, green as grass and eager for his first fight. I had to face-off with him like a caped matador, the veteran of many bouts. If I didn't defeat Gus before he made himself a public menace, someone else would.  If that happened, he would become the prisoner of Aladdin with a very uncertain future. 

Despite my worked-up state, it was becoming easier to focus. I gazed upwards; the sky was still glowing with a repulsive a raw-liver hue.  Here and there, I saw rippling patches that reminded me of nothing so much as the Aurora Borealis. But, beyond that, there were sinister green streaks in motion against an ethereal backdrop.  They did not so much resemble lightning as humongous, gliding serpents.  Something told me that these were energy bolts – and that it had bee one of these that had stuck Gus in the supposed safety of our home.

The newspapers hadn't described this kind of sky on September 15th; that suggested that, to ordinary people, the  atmosphere hadn't looked as crazy as it did to me. Maybe I could see more because I had wizard-sight. Whatever this alien energy was, it had to possess some sort of magical component. Magic dark and wild. In the hours ahead, some very bad things were going to happen all across the face of the globe.  But I couldn't worry about the world; it was up to me to bunch my fists and defend Canoga Park.  With Lauren already killed by NM-E, I had to....

Wait a minute! Lauren wasn't dead. She couldn't be.  She didn't die on the Night of Terror.  She would die, instead, at the Mall on Sunday, and that was almost two days away!

Lauren Sherwood was still in terrible danger, though.  She was due to drop by my house in just a few minutes, to pick up her baby-sitting wages.  Gus would then make a pass at her and she'd reject it.  That would trigger him to go crazy and attack her.  Without me being there to draw his fiery indignation toward myself, as the other Mantra had done, he might actually kill her!

I sprang into the air, looking every which way while I criss crossed the neighborhood between the Shepherd home and my own, trying to catch sight of the teenager. 

For once, Fate seemed to be smiling. I spotted Lauren's light-bodied, tow-haired shape walking along Wyandotte Street, a vulnerable-looking and solitary figure under the lampposts. I moved in on her from above; the schoolgirl must have heard my cloak fluttering, for she suddenly glanced up, wide-eyed. 

"Mantra!" the girl exclaimed.

Even though I was doing my best to seem calm, my heels contacted the pavement with such a jar that I had to struggle for balance. Breathlessly, I muttered: "Lauren, you shouldn't be out tonight! Some kind of wild magic has been turned loose. Go home. You'll be safer there."

"Whoa!" the girl responded. "The Blake house is just a couple of blocks ahead. Can't I go pick up my wages first?"

"You're wages aren't as important as your life! I'd stay and bodyguard you, but there's danger everywhere!  Other people are going to be needing my help. Now, vamoose!"

"But Mrs. Blake is expecting me. Maybe I should stay at her place and help protect the kids."

"Eden has enough problems without adding you to them! Do her a favor and go home! Your own dad could be needing your protection, if things get as bad as I think they're going to." I was exaggerating in the hopes that the ferocity of my warning would make her more cooperative.

"Okay," she grimaced, "I'll go head back, but I'll call Eden and tell her that she has to lock up and hunker down."

I couldn't let her do that. Gus would probably pick up the phone and urge her to come over. The impulsive teen would almost certainly fall for that trick.

"Listen, Lauren, you shouldn't be on the phone tonight. Ah...there's some kind of evil energy in the air and it might infect telephone lines and radio waves. You and Mrs. Blake could draw black magic down on your heads!"

Oh, Lordy, did that sound as dumb to her as it did to me?

Apparently it did. Lauren returned a bemused look. "Uh, Mantra, I've got a feeling that there's more, or maybe less, going on around here than you're willing to tell me."

"No more time for arguing, young lady. You're heading home!" I scooped Lauren into my arms and carried her aloft. With her weight reduced by levitation, she felt as light as a bag of potato chips.  Even though she had flown as a Mantra knock-off before, this was the first time that she was soaring with the real-deal Mantra. The girl's surprise kept her from protesting. That was all to the good, but sterner measures were called for. The atmosphere around us was magically hyper-charged, and past experience informed me that Lauren was magic-sensitive.  Her Mantra-type powers might be switched on by the freakish environment at any minute.  She'd love to be an ultra, but giving a kid a false sense of invulnerability could lead to a very short lifespan.
  
Consequently, while holding the teen close, I started drawing in a portion of her bio-energy. That may sound vampiric, but it's something that comes naturally to me.  The life-auras of plants and animals are what charge my “batteries.”  But from “feeding” off the girl, I was getting more juice than I'd bargained for! It was like the time that I had tapped into Prime's life-force, but this experience was even more intense. Lauren was a soon-to-be ultra, no mistaking that! But if the change came tonight, the results could be tragic.

As we flew, I put all of my will into siphoning away her surplus energy at a rate even faster than it could expand.  Wow!  This was a sort of fix that could become habit-forming. It was like getting the biggest chocolate high in history!

By the time the two of us alighted beside the Sherwoods' welcome mat, the girl I held was nodding off. I guessed that she would sleep for a dozen hours, which was fine with me. I rang the doorbell and then took off to avoid being seen. Blythe Ashwin was Mantra, as far as Aladdin knew, and I didn't want that dirty crew to find out differently.  Even if I rescued the woman, as I'd thought about doing, I wanted them to go on thinking that she was me.

A departing glance assured me that Mr. Sherwood was helping his sleepy daughter indoors. From her condition, he would probably surmise that she was coming down with the flu.

Had I changed history enough to save Lauren's life? I hoped so. It was a shame, in a sense, because I knew that she would make a selfless and heroic public defender. She still could become one but, before that happened, I wanted her to be a woman guided by good sense, not a schoolgirl jazzed up with enthusiasm.
 
That being said, I yet recognized that I was robbing a person -- one whom I liked very much -- of the greatest moment of her entire life -- at least for the time being.  Did I have the right to do that?  There are no easy answers.  It was Lauren's long-term welfare that seemed at stake just then.  A girl like her deserved more than a flash of glory and an early grave. 

#

While it gave me satisfaction to have solved Lauren's problem, rescuing Evie had to be my top priority.  To do that, I needed help – big league help.

I knew several powerful ultras, but which of them would be best to contact in a pinch? There was Pinnacle, for one, but she was an emotional wreck.  Besides, she was about five-hundred and sixty miles away.  Teleporting her to L.A. was out of the question.

Who lived closer in? Warstrike – or Strike as the locals knew him? Brandon Tark was always my go-to guy.  He couldn't move mountains, but he was cunning, fearless, and tech-savvy. Moreover, we were two of a kind.  We both dealt with problems in the practical manner of soldiers. Although physically no match for Gus, Strike had a psychic ability that could forewarn him of danger. On the other hand, he and I had to do some serious talking.  He was very soon to be implicated in a heinous act of terrorism. Was he guilty?  I hoped not, but I couldn't be sure.  This version of Brandon Tark could be stark, raving mad.  Be that as it may, whatever the state of his sanity, I had to warn him about the dark place where he was going, unless he altered his direction.
 
But, at the moment, I'd be needing a lot more backup than just Strike and his rocket launchers.

The original Wrath, a.k.a. Thomas Hunter, had been trained by Aladdin to take down ultras and was good at doing it.  Greg Tunney had had received similar training and had, accordingly, given a good account of himself against Gus, even if NM-E had flummoxed him.  I would have liked to bring Hunter in, but the man had vanished into private life.  He wasn't even showing up in the Aladdin databases lately -- probably because he'd gone to ground under a high-quality false identity and had an insider's knowledge about how to keep off the Company's radar. Because I had never shared energy with the ultra-fighter, I lacked the link that I needed to call him up telepathically. 

Get serious, Lukasz; if you're going up against magic, you'll be needing magic more than muscle.

As an ultra, I haven't been very outgoing. I'd even turned down the chance to join Ultra-Force.  But I did know two magic-users who had the right stuff. One was Shadowmage, the alien girl from the Godwheel. After somehow showing up on Earth, she'd joined a mercenary team called “The Solution.” Unfortunately, this squad-for-hire had dissolved after it's leader, Lela Cho, had changed course and settled down to manage her family's company. I just hoped that Shadowmage hadn't returned home after that, the Godwheel being in another part of the galaxy.  Sure, I had the means to travel there – I'd already made the trip on four occasions – but right now I didn't have the time.

The other mistress of magic that I'd previously worked with had been Yrial, the Native American sorceress who was part of “the Strangers.” If I had my druthers, I'd have called in the entire team. Unfortunately, the effects of the Night of Terror was striking everywhere at once and I'd earlier learned from Internet news sites that the Strangers would now be off in Oakland fighting zombies. But maybe a personal appeal to Yrial would be enough to persuade her to split off from her buddies and come help me.

Regardless, the first person I needed to call wasn't an ultra.  My daughter Evie wouldn't know where I'd disappeared to and would be terrified. Touching down on the roof of Canoga Park Elementary School once again, I tuned into my daughter mentally. A moment later, I felt her mind touch mine:

 "Mommy? Where are you?"

"Evie, darling. I'm -- I'm outside the house. Are you all right?"

"How can you be talking inside my head?"

"It's a secret ultra power I have, honey. But shhh! Don't think too hard or Gus might be able to hear you, just like I can. Do you see him? Does it look like he knows that we're talking?"

"I don't think so. He's been yelling about how he's gonna smash everybody. He's even mad at you and Daddy, and Mantra --"

"Hush, Evie, don't think about Mantra, not until we're sure that Gus can't hear us."

"Mommy, I'm afraid that Gus is gonna remember all the tricks I used to play on him before he got magic and will wanna smash me, too."

"You have to be very brave, Pumpkin. Something very bad has given Gus the worst sort of magic. It's made him wild.  He's so powerful that I'm going to need some ultra friends to help me stand up to him.  If we all go to talk him together, he might give up without making us fight him. "
 
"What should I do till you come?

"Try to be as friendly to your brother as you can. He's not thinking clearly and if he gets excited he might hurt you before he knows what he's doing."

"Mommy, can you see us? You sound like you know almost everything."

"I can't explain now, Sweetheart. But I promise to rescue you just as soon as I can."

"Mommy! Don't talk!"

And then our mind-link broke off.

#

What had happened? Had Gus realized what had been happening?  If so, what would he do to punish Evie?  I had to save her as soon as possible. I touched my gloved fingers to my brow and concentrated.

"Brandon, this is Mantra. Can you hear me?"

I repeated this call several times. When it works, telepathic communication is amazing.  Usually, people can hear me thousands of miles away. 
 
"What? Mantra?"  A familiar voice was coming in over my ethereal walky-talky.

"Brandon? That's you, isn't it?"

"Sure it is, Eden. Sorry. You woke me up. Jet lag.

“Something important's come up!

"I sort of guessed that. Well, lay it on me, beautiful. What are you up to?"

"A total disaster!  I need your help."

“How bad is it?”

"It's trouble in spades, Tark. Both my kids are in danger.  Listen! Can you help me cage a magician who's at least twice as powerful as I am, and do it without causing him any real injury?"
 
"What magician? Is Boneyard back?

“Boneyard is dead!” I said.  Strike should have known that, if the Godwheel incident had happened in this reality.  Or, was it one of the quirks of this world that the local Boneyard was still alive?

“Death doesn't mean as much as it used to” he said. “Are you so sure that he couldn't bring himself back?”

Well, I had to give Tark that one. In a world as screwy as ours was, a person could never count on the dead staying dead. I'd died hundreds of times myself. Even Eden Blake had come back from the Great Beyond -- for a tragically short while.

"No, I'm up against someone much, much stronger than old Tall-Gray-And-Ugly."

"Where exactly are you?"

"Canoga Park. I'm a couple blocks away from my house --"

"What?  Do you mean that something came after you in your own home?

“In a way, yes.  That's too complex to go into now.  I'll explain everything if us two can link up before it's too late!”

“Sure, Luke.  I wouldn't stand around and see you lose your kids like I lost mine.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Tark paused for a couple seconds before asking, "How big is your problem?  Should I plan for an overnighter?"

"I think we can wrap things up by dawn, but the job will be too big for just the two of us. We'll need serious magic to give us an edge. When we sign off, I'm going to try to contact Yrial and Shadowmage. Do you know of anyone else who'd be available on short notice?"

"Not a sorcerer, unfortunately. But Hardcase called me up last week. Now that he's washed his hands of UltraForce, he wants to form a new super team, one that doesn't lick Aladdin's boots.”

"Great! Hardcase is one of the best. Contact him if you can. If we put together a squad that's powerful enough, the – antagonist -- might give up without a fight."

"Why not knock the joker around a little first? He has to be a bag of crap if he's threatening your kids."

"It's not so simple, Brandon. The bad guy is Gus."

"Gus?"

"Dark magic has a hold on him and he can't control himself."

"You're up against your own ex-husband – Eden's ex-husband – for the third time?"

"No. It's worse than that. I'm up against...my own son." 


TO BE CONTINUED IN Chapter 14....