Reflections of Life
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Manchester, England. 3:45 A.M.
Basil Kensington woke to an incredible pain in his side. He tried to cry out but a firm hand gripped his mouth, muffling his voice. His wife, normally a light sleeper, did not stir next to him and Basil felt a vivid moment of panic overtake him. The bed was wet.
"Shh," a man's voice whispered in Basil's ear. "Nod your head once if you understand me, my boy. You make a sound -- even the smallest of peeps -- and I will be forced to take this blade," he jabbed a sharp object into Basil's side, scraping bone and eliciting a moan from the poor man's throat, "and slit you open from stem to stern. Now... do you understand?"
At Basil's furtive nod, the man took his hand away and quickly turned on the bedside lamp. The figure who was now revealed to be sitting on the corner of the bed wore a yellow bodysuit, which outlined a fit and athletic frame. He had well-manicured brown hair and a small goatee, set off by a pair of darkly glinting green eyes.
For Basil, it was like looking into the past. A terrible, frighening past. As he clutched a hand to his bleeding side, he whispered "Slaymaster....?"
The bearded man smiled, but there was no mirth in it. "Did you think I was dead, Basil?"
"Of course! Captain Britain -- he bloody well crushed your head in!"
Slaymaster looked away, a dark mood obviously settling over him. "So I keep hearing. By the way, Basil, why haven't you checked on your wife yet? I'm sure she'd be quite hurt by your lack of concern."
Basil glanced to the side, dreading what he knew he would see. His wife lay still and cold, a pool of blood beneath her sinking into the sheets. "Good lord, man... Why? She never hurt you. She never even knew you!"
Slaymaster rose to his feet, drawing his blade through the air. Known as a 'jazzler,' the weapon was capable of disrupting neural impulses as well as cutting through flesh with ease. "I'm a living dead man, Basil. Taken from my own time and deposited here. Why? Is this part of some great plan that Allah has prepared for me?" The mercenary turned back towards Basil, who was still staring at his wife's body. "Those thoughts have eaten away at me. I have not slept in four days."
Basil swallowed hard. He was avoiding Slaymaster's gaze. "You're not making sense."
"Oh, but I am." Slaymaster walked towards him slowly, kneeling until his face was level with Basil's. "Allah has made me invulnerable to harm. Why should I fear death, when death has already claimed me? I have survived the one thing that has made humanity quiver since we first climbed out of the muck. I am Slaymaster, the Angel of Death." He reached out and cupped Basil's chin in his hand. "Now do you understand why I have killed your wife and come into your home?"
Basil shook his head slowly. One fat tear had dripped from his left eye and was slowly weaving its way down his face. "No...."
"Because you, weak-willed as you are, was born of the same parents as I. And in the days following my death, you had my body cremated. That was an insult to Allah. You knew my beliefs. You knew that, according to Shari' ah, only burial in the ground is allowed. You spat in the face of God." Slaymaster backhanded his brother across the face, sending a spray of blood from the smaller man's lips. Plucking Basil's head up by the back of his hair, the assassin whispered "But I have been sent back to perform great services in Allah's name. I will punish the wicked and the impure. I will strike down the enemies of my faith. And I can have no mortal relations bearing my name, or holding my secrets."
"Please," Basil whispered. "We're brothers. No matter what you've become, that's still true."
"Is it? You had my remains scattered to the winds. You did this despite the fact that your salary with Sycorp would have allowed you ample opportunity to put me to rest properly. That act alone makes your life forfeit." Slaymaster raised the jazzler into the air, a look of extreme dignity in his expression. "Repeat these words for me, my brother. Will you do this?"
Basil could feel the air around the jazzler crackle. He tried to speak, but the words would not come.
Slaymaster sighed, hating that this creature before him was of his own flesh and blood. "I will say them for you, then. o Allah, you are my Lord, and there is no God but You. You created me and I am Your servant and I am faithful to my covenant and my promise to you to the best of my ability. I seek refuge with You from all the evil I have committed. I acknowledge before You all the blessings You have bestowed on me, and I acknowledge before you all my sins. So I entreat You to forgive me, for none has the power to forgive sins except You alone."
Basil's eyes widened as the jazzler flew downward.
Blood spurted onto Slaymaster's uniform and face and he felt a gladness in his heart, as if a holy presence was filling his soul. "May Allah have mercy on you."
Turning away from the two corpses, the killer walked towards a portrait hanging on the wall. Removing it, he deftly began to open the newly revealed safe. The combination was simple enough and hardly a challenge for a man who had once bested the female Captain Britain in battle. Inside was information pertaining to a Swiss bank account which, even in the ruined economy brought about by the Black Mass Barrier, would go a long way towards funding Slaymaster's activities. Pocketing the folders that he'd found, Slaymaster then moved to the bathroom. He drew up a seat in front of the mirror and began his work. First came out materials to be used in creating facial molds, then an actor's set of makeup and false teeth.
Less than twenty minutes later, Slaymaster was seemingly gone. In his place sat a perfect double of his own brother, Basil. Smiling with the same crooked grin that had endeared Basil to so many, Slaymaster practiced the clipped speech that his brother preferred. "Well now, guv'nor, I think this will do, indeed."
Behind him, the bodies of Basil and his wife began to smell.
Betsy Braddock spun about, delivering a powerful kick that sent her training dummy flying backwards. It vibrated from the force of the impact before Betsy followed through with several more blows, each of which flew through the air with shocking ferocity and speed. When she finished, Betsy stood there, in the center of her training area, panting and covered with sweat. Her training gear clung to her as she pulled off the tape covering her knuckles, giving ample evidence to the many long hours she'd put into maintaining her figure. Once upon a time, she'd been one of England's top models, but that had been before her career with STRIKE's Psi-Division and her subsequent career as a hero. Now, staying in shape wasn't just an aesthetic concern -- it could mean her life.
"The house seems quite empty, doesn't it?"
Betsy tossed aside the last scrap of tape and nodded. The woman's sudden appearance didn't unnerve her in the least, as she'd sensed her telepathically even before Brian's magic had faded. "Hello, Meggan, dear. My brother didn't come with you?"
Meggan, dressed in a stunning silver dress, pranced forward happily. She was beginning to show signs of pregnancy, but it looked good on her -- which wasn't hard, given that the shapeshifter was generally gorgeous. Being a queen suited her, as well, and she'd taken to wearing outfits that looked more at home in a book of fairy tales than real life. "He's busy with the Dark Guard -- They've uncovered some sort of mystery on the edge of Otherworld."
Betsy wrapped a towel about her shoulders, using it to wipe away sweat from her forehead. "So Molly and the others are working out, then?"
"Oh, yes! Brian says they're doing a wonderful job!"
The two women walked out into the garden, which was beginning to flourish under Betsy's calm hand. "Well, we Pendragons are known for being the best, so I'm not surprised. What brings you to the Manor?"
"I just wanted to see you...." Meggan replied, with only a slight hesitation.
Betsy reached out and took her sister-in-law's hand. "Never fib to a telepath. Now open up."
"It's just... Well, Brian wants me to pick out a nanny for the baby."
"And....?"
"Well, I don't like any of the people we've talked to so far and I believe that we need someone who can protect the baby when Brian and I are away. We have some very powerful enemies."
Betsy nodded thoughtfully. "That's quite a combination, indeed -- 'must be good with babies, but capable of holding own against the Juggernaut'."
Meggan laughed. "You make it sound so silly, but it's important to me."
"I know, luv," Betsy brushed out Meggan's hair with her fingers. It felt soft as silk. "Okay -- I'll do whatever I can to help. What do you need?"
"I was hoping you could help interview the latest batch with me. Brian's send out invitations to nannies from throughout the multiverse."
"Today?"
"Yes, please," Meggan replied, shrugging and looking apologetic.
Betsy nodded. "Okay. Shower first, then interviews. I'll be back down in a bit."
Meggan watched as the current Captain Britain stepped inside. She was glad that Betsy had decided to help -- not only because she valued Betsy's opinion, but because things had been so strained between all of them lately. Brian's decision to lie to Betsy and the Pendragons* had almost broke the twins' relationship apart, but they'd begun working on repairing it.
(*See Pendragons # 18.)
A rustling sound made Meggan turn and, for just a second, she caught a vivid image of a woman in a long dress stepping from one area of the garden to another. The woman's back had been towards Meggan, but a powerful sense of serenity and peace had seemed to permeate the air around her. "Hello?" Meggan said, moving after the woman. She stepped into the next area, which housed a large fountain that was even now spraying water into the air. The woman was sitting on the side of the fountain now, letting one hand dangle into the water, stirring it lightly. "Miss?"
The woman looked up and Meggan gasped out loud, covering her hand with her mouth. She shrank back from this vision of horror, but the image would haunt her for the rest of her days.
The woman had lightly-colored purple hair and soft features, with full lips that were set in a sardonic smile. Her eyes, however, were gone, leaving just empty sockets that oozed pus and blood.
But the most horrible part of it all was that the woman was very familiar to Meggan, for it was Betsy Braddock.
Otherworld
The great crystal doors slammed shut with a resounding clang, the fiery symbol of the union jack igniting as soon as the process was concluded. The symbol served as a mystic lock, keeping out all but the most powerful of seekers. Opal Luna Saturnyne stepped back and admired her handiwork, reaching up to brush a lock of platinum blonde hair out of her eyes. "What do you think, Sir Benedict? Is it enough?"
The towering hulk next to her regarded the doors with skepticism. Red-skinned and clad in ceremonial armor, Sir Benedict looked capable of taking on an entire squadron of foes and living to tell the tale. "Ah, it'll do. Yer magic is fair enough potent and any blighter who comes looking for the Forever Crystal is going to have a time getting through here."
Opal Luna nodded, having come to the same conclusion. The Forever Crystal was a potent device capable of rewriting the cosmos and, if King Brian were to be believed, Jamie Braddock had recently used it for just such a purpose. Turning to Benedict, she asked "And what of the prisoner? Bound securely?"
Benedict let out a grunt of distaste. He looked around the sub-basement level of the castle, making sure that no one was about to hear him. "Aye, he's locked away safe and tight. But if you ask me, he should be taken out into the courtyard and hanged. That would show everyone what happens when you cross the king!"
Opal smiled softly, walking down the long corridors beneath the castle. Benedict walked at her side, a respectful distance behind. "I would tend to agree with you, but that's now our King Brian works. He prefers to lead by inspiration, not fear."
"Reminds me a bit of Roma's early days," Benedict replied. "She started out with all that talk of not being like her father and look what happened? Got just as sneaky as Merlyn ever did."
"True enough. But Brian's made of sterner stuff, I think." The two of them stopped outside a barred door, through which the form of Jamie Braddock could be seen. The king's older brother was chained to a wall, his arms wrapped up tight in a straight jacket. The man's eyes were open wide, staring into nothingness, and a thin trail of drool dripped from his lower lip as his jaw worked. Opal let out a small sigh. "I don't like him being so close to the Crystal, though. What if they formed some sort of connection?"
Benedict grinned. "We could always have some sort of accident happen, m'lady."
Opal regarded him with open amusement. "You're quite the humorist, aren't you? No, I'd prefer to keep my own place in the new power structure, thank you. Assassinating the king's brother isn't the best way to do that." Hesitating a bit, she asked "What of the revolutionaries?"
Benedict's own face darkened at her words. "Haven't found any more of them, but I'd wager they're just hiding their meetings better than before. I tried to convince the King that this was important business but you know him, he's all for their ability to assemble freely and all that rot. This isn't bloody England, I said to him. This is Otherworld -- and if there are folks about talking about how you shouldn't be king and how they want to put their own man on the throne, well you best listen to it! And deal with it most harshly!"
Opal resumed her walking, letting silence fall over the discussion. At length, she stopped at the foot of the stairs and said "Sir Benedict, I'm authorizing you to investigate this potential revolution... Find out who's behind it all and who they want sitting on the throne." She fixed him with a steely gaze. "And no one, not even King Brian, is to know about this until the investigation is completed."
Benedict nodded with great gravity, accepting his task with obvious relish.
"Well, bugger me." Robbie Sinclair, the hero known as Thunderfist, stood above a large pool of purple liquid. He was kneeling over, watching as his reflection grew older and older before disappearing in a ripple, only to reappear a moment later as a child, who grew older and older until the whole thing repeated. "Have you ever seen anything like this, Molly?"
Shamrock shook her head. She seemed very uncomfortable with this whole mission, which had seen the new Dark Guard -- comprised of former Pendragons Shamrock, Thunderfist, Grace and Tangerine and a few remnants of the Assyrian Avengers, in the forms of Captain Assyria and Horus -- accompany King Brian to a rather remotee area of Otherworld. The region was surrounded by dense forest and had revealed more than its fair share of threats to unwary travelers. The Dark Guard had lived up to its name today, guarding the King from one fell beast after another.
And here, to this strange pool, they had come.
"This place makes me ill," Shamrock whispered. "It's like there's something... wrong, here."
The Godling known as Horus strode towards them, a hint of derision in his voice. "For a mortal, you are very perceptive. This region has been overlaid with various wards, designed to keep the weak-willed away. But we are heroes born and are able to resist the siren call to flee this area."
Thunderfist frowned slightly. He didn't like the tone that Horus used when speaking to most of the former Pendragons and the recent battle they'd had with the Assyrian Avengers* was still too fresh in Robbie's mind to forgive entirely. "Some of us are heroes born, perhaps -- but others are just lackeys for whatever dictator happens to come along."
(*See Pendragons # 18.)
"Let's act like adults, gentlemen," Captain Assyria murmured, moving to join them. The rest of the Dark Guard, along with King Brian, were in his wake. "And that means you too, Horus. As for you, Thunderfist -- I hope you weren't referring to King Brian as part of your statement about dictators."
"Of course not," the Englishman replied, but he cast a wary glance at Brian nonetheless.
If the King noticed that any of his Dark Guard held lingering suspicions over how he'd acted in recent months, he chose to wisely ignore it. Kneeling down, he cast a glance into the pool and frowned as his reflection began to age. "What does this mean? The pool...."
Tangerine, a red-haired beauty from a dystopian future, reached down to touch the surface of the water. "How did you say you found about it again, my lord?"
Brian sighed, still feeling a bit uncomfortable at the formality of things. Being king was a wearying task for him, as everyone seemed to look at him as an authority figure and he rarely felt truly in control of things. "I was going through Roma's old papers and found a reference to something she called the Pool of Failing. It was marked on only one map, an old one dating back to the early days of Merlyn's time on the throne."
Tangerine let out a small gasp.
"What's wrong?"
"I felt... a pressure. There's something down there, beneath the pool. An intelligence."
"Robbie and I can investigate," Grace said. The warrior woman had thrown herself into her new role with the Dark Guard, eagerly taking the point in almost every battle so far. "If it's anything like the things we've already encountered, it's bound to be deadly."
"No." Brian straightened up, his mind made up. "All of you have done a wonderful job shielding me so far, but I'm not helpless -- and some mysteries are ones that I should look into myself."
"But, sire--"
Brian cut off Captain Assyria with a wave of his hand. "I've stated how things are going to be. I'm heading down. If I'm not back in five minutes, come after me."
Before the others could protest, Brian had dove forward. The liquid was cold against his skin, but it seemed to welcome him, pulling him downwards into the murk until all was dark and the sun was only a forgotten memory. Down, down he swam, past aquatic sea life like none he'd ever seen before. He swam until he thought his lungs would burst, pushing himself onwards as a light began to appear before him.
He moved towards it, finding some sort of filmy membrance stopping his path. On the other side of it, he could see a chamber of some kind. It looked like a study or lab of some kind, with candles flickering dimly. Books and large tubes lined the walls.
Brian felt the pressure in his lungs but instead of swimming upwards he drew up his fist and slammed it against the membrane. It parted before his great strength and Brian felt himself tumble forward in a wave. He landed on the ground hard, purple liquid dripping all about him before the membrane sealed itself back up tight.
Taking loud gulps of air, Brian looked around him and felt his blood chill. There were people in the tubes, their faces visible behind transparent glass. Some were men, others women and still more were indeterminate. All were naked. "What in the name of the crown...?"
"Are you the new king?"
Brian jerked around, dropping automatically into a fighting stance. He relaxed somewhat upon seeing the speaker, however. Barely three feet tall and bald, the man wore a purple robe and leaned heavily on a gnarled staff. "I'm King Brian, yes. And you are...?"
"Sammael. Keeper of secrets. You know, m'lord, if you were going to dropping by, it's been customary in the past for someone to send word ahead of time." The little man grunted as he walked forward, limping slightly. "What brings you? Need a potion of some kind? Looking for a dead relative's remains?"
"Uh... No." Brian watched as Sammael sat down heavily in a small chair, obviously made for the man's personal use. "I had no idea this chamber was even here."
Sammael examined him. "Then how did you find it?"
Brian frowned. "Listen to me -- I'm the King. Do you understand that? I came because I want to know what areas belong in my realm. And which ones don't," he added with menace. "Now, what is this place and why was it kept hidden?"
Sammael shook his head, looking impossibly tired. "Ah. You are the chosen one. I recognize it in your manner. The son of James and Elizabeth Braddock."
"You know me?"
"Of course I do." He gestured about at the men and women in their tubes. "You were the product of a grand experiment. Your parents were matched up in hopes of producing a true heir. One worthy of protecting the omniverse. But there were many failures before Merlyn hit upon the right combination. Even your own parents produced Jamie before you and your sister were born. Mistakes were made, oh yes."
Brian looked about him in mounting horror. "Mistakes...."
"That's right, my lord. This is known as the Chamber of Failures. And these are the men and women who could have ruled Otherworld."
Elsewhere
The tall man with the light brown skin stepped out of his bath, letting two lovely attendants come forward with a fresh robe for him. They were good servants, ones who had stayed with him even through the problems of the past. His life had seen so many awe-inspiring events, and all of them -- even the bitter disappointments -- had forged him into something greater and stronger. Where once before he'd held power but lost it, now he was better prepared for the challenges that awaited.
"My Lord Whyness, the others are gathered in the meeting chamber," one of the attendants said, keeping her eyes low. None were permitted to look the once and future Emperor in the eyes.
Drawing his robe tight about him, he stepped out of his private quarters and moved slowly down the hall to the others. Greeting them like this, when he was so obviously at his leisure, would make a strong point, he hoped. They were here at his leisure and he would not carry forth any special pomp and circumstance for them. They were his followers, not his equals.
Inside the meeting chamber, they greeted him with varied looks of scorn and fear. Their faces were well known to him as beings of power in the omniverse, beings who had grown tired of being ordered about by the kings and queens of Otherworld. Now they were willing to sell their souls in exchange for the promise of increased autonomy. The fools.
Speaking calmly, he stated his words with briefly and with full authority. "King Brian remains unaware of our movements. Our spies in the palace say that he has resumed playing hero once more and has occupied himself as of late with the new Dark Guard he has formed. This plays into our hands perfectly. There are many who lack faith in his ability to lead and the more time he spends away from Otherworld, all the better. Given his reticence to punish his own mad brother, there will be even more who are willing to listen to our cause"
Sat-yr-9, a variant of Opal Luna Saturnyne, sat in her Nazi-esque uniform at the head of the table. "This is a dangerous plan you've set forth. What if something goes wrong? He's rebuilt much of the Captain Britain Corps, he has connections to the Pendragons and now he has that damnable Dark Guard nipping at his heels. We could be ruined by any one of those!"
"Power is given only to those who can seize it, my dear. All of us in this room," he gestured to the others, who numbered nine in all, "have reason to hate the Braddocks. And there are still others who can be recruited to our cause. For some of us, the reasons are personal," he said, pausing. Images of himself on his knees licking the boots of Opal Luna rose unbidden to his mind. "And there are still more agents that can be recruited to serve as our footsoldiers. And, yes, King Brian has powerful forces at his disposal -- but this council of war will not be deterred, not by the Corps, not by the Pendragons and not by the Dark Guard. It is our time!" He raised his fist into the air, drawing on all the charisma he possessed. He had to own them, had to carry their faith, into this battle. "So swears Lord Mandragon!"
And, to his great pleasure, the others joined him in his pact.
Next Issue: The subtle forces of war begin to take shape, as Lord Mandragon recruits a most familiar assassin to his cause. Also: Sir Benedict uncovers evidence of treachery in the royal household while King Brian deals with the horrible secrets of the Chamber of Failures.
Author's Notes
Captain Britain has long been one of my favorite heroes. I admired Brian Braddock for many reasons, but mostly because he seemed the most human of heroes. He lied, he cheated, he lost his temper and he battled with addiction. But through it all, he strove to be the best he could be. He aspired.
I feel that same yearning in my own heart. Oh, I don't fancy that I'll ever save the world or anything of the sort that Brian does regularly, but I battle my own problems, my own self-weakness, on a daily basis. And I always strive to be better than I am -- better educated, a better husband, a better man.
This series is about Brian Braddock and his family -- and what a family it is! A telepathic sister, a shapechanging wife and a crazy brother. I know these people! :-)
Look for palace intrigue, dimension-spanning wars and the coming birth of Brian and Meggan's child. This is good stuff, folks -- the fabric of dreams and imagination. We have a flawed hero facing down the darkest villains in the multiverse. We have a woman attempting to live up to her brother's legacy, all the while being hunted down by a man lost in his own madness. And we have a traitor in our midst.
I'm gonna wrap up this issue with the lyrics to a song by one of my favorite artists, British pop star Robbie Williams. The song reminds me a good bit of both myself and our hero, Brian Braddock. I'm actually using a bit of this song as inspiration for the first 12 issue arc of this series, which will deal with age, family and regret.
There are ghosts in the halls of Braddock Manor, some of which need exorcising.
See all of you next issue.
Better Man by Robbie Williams
Send someone
to love me
I need to rest in arms
Keep me safe from harm
In pouring rain
Give me endless summer
Lord I fear the cold
Feel I'm getting old
Before my time
As my soul heals the shame
I will grow through this pain
Lord I'm doing all I can
To be a better man
Go easy on my conscience
'Cos it's not my fault
I know I've been taught
To take the blame
Rest assured my angels
Will catch my tears
Walk me out of here
I'm in pain
As my soul heals the shame
I will grow through this pain
Lord I'm doing all I can
To be a better man
Once you've found that lover
You're homeward bound
Love is all around
Love is all around
I know some have fallen
On stony ground
But love is all around
Send someone to love me
I need to rest in arms
Keep me safe from harm
In pouring rain
Give me endless summer
Lord I fear the cold
Feel I'm getting old
Before my time
As my soul heals the shame
I will grow through this pain
Lord I'm doin' all I can
To be a better man
