h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

[Elorex, Mezmero and No 3 speed hastily towards nowhere in particular in a somewhat severely battered Plumb Co. van. The tyres scream a warning to oncoming traffic, which concurs that it should not be in the way. In the far distance, a gasping crowd emasses a safe distance from Paranoid Towers, staring up at it's high neon pinnacle as if doing so would provide answers. The heavy concrete dust has not yet settled and the TV crews are only just beginning to arrive. Aware only of the tower's shift in position, the ex-EG's hurtle down the clearing oncoming traffic. The van shudders and screeches to a halt as white sparks flow from Mezmero's hands and into the steering wheel]

Elorex: *furious after he cracked his head on the dash* What the hell was that??!
Mezmero: *eyes white* He's here...
Elorex: Who...? Who's here?
Mezmero: Mae....M...M...
Elorex: You better start making some sense, soon... You haven't been the same since your battery shorted.
Mezmero: Maes..tus..
Elorex: Who on earth is he?
Mezmero: *eyes violently flicker back to their original state* No time to explain... Paranoid Towers.... now...

[Meanwhile... in HP's office]

Very well, Maestus... We shall re evaluate our position. Take the land. But be warned. It is not empty, and it is not up to me to empty it. As much hold as I have on this city, I do not control the army, the FBI or the National Guard. You have already made yourself and powers known. Disappear without trace, and stay disappeared... Or you may have to put those nifty psychic powers to a more constructive use.

*walks over to the window*

All that aside... I've always wanted a river view....

[At the base of Paranoid Towers, several large, armani suited men exit the building, try to get a semblence of bearing and head towards the press hounds barking past the police cordons. Flash bulbs flicker and ping unnaturally, like minute explosions created from the random curiousity of a nation... The most senior suit, dressed in dark-burgundy, drops his chisled lower jaw to speak]

Spokesman: This statement is read on the behalf of H. Parnoid of Paranoid Enterprises. *ahem* " The alterations to Paranoid Towers are part of an ongoing project on post-construction structure alteration. We are on the verge of a breakthrough in technology and decided that there would be no better way to demonstrate its effectiveness than to have an impromptu demonstration of it on one of our most valued company monuments. We hope that this will lead to a better future for all. Thankyou *the suits turn, the press hounds bark randomly*

Reporter: Mr. Spokesman, what of the rumours linking Paranoid Enterprises to the rise in organized crime...

Spokesman: *stops and turns* I think you will find that after proper assessment of the facts, the slanderous accusations made against Paranoid Enterprises and of Mr H. Paranoid himself are wholly innacurate and without basis. The accusers have all withdrawn their statements and have admitted to being part of a conspiracy linked with the crime bosses themsleves to disguise the faces of organized crime. Paranoid Enterprises will follow their prosecutions to the full extent of the law. Thankyou...*smiles politely and walks triumphantly back into the tower*

[HP}=~~

Maestus picks up the chain from the desk and slips it into his pocket, then he turns and recedes into the shadow of the door. He walks down the long, dark marble corridor; stopping for a moment where sea stands in the shadows. He reaches up and touches his sunglasses; before resuming his stride.

He walks out of the front entrance, skirting around the flicking crowd of press and police. As the Plumb Co. van screeches to a halt behind him, he slides into the black curtain of an alleyway.

In the abandoned quarter of town, among the old cranes and hulking ships, among the gutted and empty buildings, among the litter-strewn, silent roads, in the clear black of moonlight, Maestus walks slowly down the center of the road. The ethereal stream flows past him, running off the side of the road and onto the flat surface of the river or wisping gently up the sides of buildings as it flies. Maestus walks without hurry, sure that he won't be interrupted as he approaches his destination.

*Changes direction, as the psychic beacon moves. He pushes straight through the throng of press without breaking stride, and passes down the alley*

When he reaches the docks, Maestus pauses. In the slicingly cold night air, the platforms and jetties form a concrete growth out into the flat, shimmering surface of the undisturbed water like a sheet of forming ice. Striding out onto the complex of wooden boardways, he meanders and turns until he is at least two hundred feet from the solid concrete bank. He is heading towards the squatting bohemoth of the Main Crane; the tangled and solid mass of struts and supports that once was depended on by the whole of the harbour to load and unload cargos from the gargantuan uber-tankers, now made obsolete by the New York <-> London 'Floating Point' transfer system.

He reaches the crane and begins climbing the thin, slippery ladder to the top cabin. At about two hundred feet he reaches the secondary cabin; he climbs into it. As he walks to the control panel, the lock plates smash; he reaches out and twists the three heavy switches that control the main power. Two green lights flicker to dim life, the third glows blue and flashes. Satisfied, Maestus inches back out into the gloom and onto the ladder.

A further seventy five feet upwards, he climbs into the main control cabin and sits down in the rotten leather seat. The console is alight with flickering and running patterns of LED's and buttons and computer readouts. A blue screen, bright in the darkness of the cabin, prompts User To Touch Screen. Maestus does so, and with a sliding whir a pair of joysticks pop out from under the the seat. Taking them in each hand, he flicks the hats upwards and depresses the red buttons. With a juddering whine, the main gear-servos spin into life and idle, giving out the odd unmaintained splutter. Maestus' hand twists the left joystick a fraction; the gargantuan structure heaves a little and steadily begins to rotate. As it does so, Maestus pushes the other joystick forward, sending the hook pulley whirring out into the darkness along the boom. In the moonlight, the monstrous amalgamation of condemned girders and outdated cables and substructures turns to face the glittering black sea.

The Main Crane finishes its slow turn and the gear-servos settle back into a whirring hum. The hook-pulley whizzes along the boom and out, until it is about fifty feet over the harbour. The water here is deceptively deep; at least a couple of hundred feet, after it was hollowed for the vast keels of the uber-tankers. It jerks to a halt and the two-ton hook sways gently on the four cables. In the cabin, Maestus presses a small foot pedal, which clicks forward with a hydraulic hiss. The great hook clunks and then freefalls two hundred and seventy five feet to the water, landing with a terrific splash and a surging wave that laps noisily against the jetties. As the steel cables pay out, the hook rapidly sinks through the murk until it comes to rest at the bottom with a soft thud of dispelled mud.

Activating the hook's camera, Maestus pans it around until he sees what he is looking for. Gently twitching the joysticks, he guides the hook towards a squat metal cube, untouched by erosion, that shimmers blackness across the muddy seabed. The hook gently moves towards it, raises slightly, and then hums and magnetises, sticking to the roof of the box. There is a whir of motors and the hook, with the box attached, flies upwards through the inky black water to the glinting surface.

With a splash it emerges and continues its journey upwards, until it is dangling a hundred feet in the air. Servos hum, and it is pulled in towards the jetty. Slowly, the hook sinks to the ground, and with a heavy clunk, ithe box lands.

Maestus gets up and walks to the door of the cabin. The structure of the crane drops away to the floor nearly three hundred feet below, shrinking with perspective from an all-encompassing horizon to a narrow point, so far away. The thin ladder is a microscopic line stretching downwards. Maestus stops to look at the view. From up here, he can see dozens of miles out across the sea, and inland, vague mountain shapes loom. Taking a breath, Maestus steps off the thin grating and drops, freefalling towards the hard decking of the jetty. Rolling forward as he plummets, he turns around once before impacting with the ground with an almighty crack that snaps away over the city and along the sea. He gets up and walks to the box.

*sea watches curiously from the shadows, having followed maestus from the Paranoid Towers*

maestus, please don't kill me. i'm just watching, and i won't be online enough in the next week to actually do anything that will affect the plot in any way... just so you know

Don't worry, he wasn't going to anyway

Maestus reaches the box. He pauses, and reaches out his hands to gently rest the fingers on its upper surface. Pencil thin lines of shimmering non-colour erupt in a strange pattern of angles and intersections. With a *whoomf*, the 'lid' raises by a millimeter, sucking a rush of air into the dark space. Maestus withdraws his fingers and the lid flies into the air and out over the sea, dropping with a splash. The corners of his mouth twitch a barely noticeable fraction in the suggestion of a smile.

*HP puts his Infra-Evil Binoculars (TM) down and gazes with his human eyes at the new vista that Maestus' architectural overhall has given him*

An interesting package, my friend... I wish you were smart enough not to let me see it.... *presses the intercom button* Operations... how is the mind control ray doing...

Ops: Err... not so vell sir.... ve have problems viz neural overloads... and...well...

What is it...? Spit it out, man...

Ops: Vell... zey explode, sir...

Ah... Well, how about the BoS...

Ops: Ah... ze BoS is vorking perfectly... it will be functional soon...

Good... keep me appraised...

[The Ex-EGs are still in their van]

Elorex: Now what?...
Mezmero: No... no... he's gone...
No 3: Who issss he?
Mezmero: A... A friend... I think... *looks confused*...
Elorex: You think?
No 3: He iss not ussed to having friendss.... ever ssincce the-
Mezmero: SILENCE
No 3: Sorry...
Elorex: He has a point though, Mezmero... you haven't been the same since..since... well, you know...
Mezmero: Yes, I admit... its been hard... but I have to move... Look, guys... its still the same ME ... I haven't changed on the INSIDE...
Elorex: But...
Mezmero: But what...?
No 3: But... how can we be ssure...
Mezmero: *exchanges furious glances between his two partners* fine....if thats how you feel *turns to his door*
Elorex: Oh... come ON Mezmero, there's no need to be like that
Door: **SLAM**
No 3: *sigh*... you've pissed him off now...
Elorex: *silent gasp* ....uh... ME??

[HP}=~~

*Walks on through docklands.*

Maestus reaches into the box with both hands, and pulls out a heavy shape; it's a long, narrow gauntlet, and an oddly shaped one. Curving plates of metal whine through existence, tapering and contouring to form great cords of non-moving tendons, which smooth backwards and meld together to form a long armguard. Reflections slide and slipper over the chromic black metal surfaces, but with an odd perspective, as if each facet of the gauntlet were a different distance into Maestus' arm. The fingers are forged into long, thick claws, the edges of which glitter with serated blackness...gouged marks curve and twist over contours and edges of the gauntlet forming odd shapes, which seem to flex a little. A thick strap is attached at the wrist and shoulder; Maestus lifts it over his head and slides his arm into the gauntlet. The curving marks flicker and flash with runnels of sparks, a disconcerting shade of non-black. The claws flex and arch. Maestus grins, and kicking the empty box into the sea with a heavy splosh, walks back towards the bank.

*Mezmero somewhat staggers down the street, not fully recovered from his temporary posession, he crashes into a stack of cardboard boxes which look like they shouldn't have been there in the first place, and glances in all directions at the vast array of dark alleys the city displays, trying to gain some form of bearing... he picks... or senses a possible path and stumbles down an enveloping black corridor*

[HP}=~~

Maestus strides towards dry land. The wooden boardwalk clickers and cricks suddenly, and then with a great splash Gigsuchild, streaming with water, bursts out from under the surface and spins onto the boardwalk. At the same time, a dull boom sounds and the orange-clad superhero Death Avocado drops from the sky, landing next to the Alien. Maestus stands stock still, the claws of the gauntlet flexing slightly. He speaks,

"You're too late"

"You can't stop me now"

"I took the chain"

"And I found the gauntlet"

"And I know where the ring is"

[Death Avocado raises an eyebrow] Don't be a fool! The chain was broken, and can't be remade. It'll never last, it's far too unstable now. You saw what happened when you brought it here! And the gauntlet...hah! Did you think the binding would have failed so soon? You're a fool; the gauntlet can only serve...the Daemon...*he glances sidelong at Giguschild*...and as for the ring; you won't find it so easily, and anyway, most of the power is gone. Wake up, Maestus! Do you think you'll break it all with these? These spent toys?

Maestus smiles.

"Worthless"

"You underestimate me"

"Would you stop me?"

Giguschild flexes his wrist. On it is a heavyset bracelet into which the final link of the chain is set. The link shivers and crackles whitely.

[Giguschild]Yesss.

Maestus smiles. Suddenly, there is a pounding of two sets of feet running down the boardwalk behind the two heros...

*HP glares at the gauntlet through his Infra-Evil Binoculars*

An item of considerable power... if weilded correctly... and a man in orange...*speaks up* Ops?

*small bleeping*

Ops: Yes HP

Are you getting all of this?

Ops: Yes HP

Good, run traces on the glove, and this orange fellow, and for gods sake find out more about this Maestus character.. he's starting to bug me...

*sighs* Where are your evil minions when you need them...*speaks into his Evilwatch (TM)*...sea...evillene... where are you? what happened to all of my henchmen?... where's my coffee? I want answers...*raises a frustrated eyebrow*

Something truly evil is going on... and.. for once... I'm not behind it...

[HP}=~~

*Arrives at the confrontation. Maestus turns, briefly, and nods to him. UH stops, and stands, mutely. Unseeing. Unthinking. Waiting for a command.*

Giguschild and Death Avocado* quickly turn to face the possessed superhero, standing a couple of hundred yards away. Maestus raises his exposed hand...there is a pause. With a sharp snap, he clicks his fingers towards the two other heros. [NOTE-Don't worry this is kosher] Uncle Heavy's blank white eyes blink and flare brightly; without uttering a word he leaps forward and pounds down the slippery boardwalk. Flinging his arms out, the adamantium claws *slak* from his fists and ignite. Death Avocado hurreidly shouts to Giguschild,

"What'll we do!? We can't hurt him, he's a hero; we might bring him back still!"

Giguschild just grins and flexes his claws. As Uncle Heavy, bald pate shining, pounds into him, Giguschild slides his feet forward on the slippery wood and drops to the floor. Pinning his tail into the board, he twirls and kicks out viciously, sending UH flying. He lands in a crumpled heap on the floor but is at once lifted up like a puppet and charges again.

*(if you'll allow me)

HP recieves a beeper message from the lab:

[DA=SEEN ON H2G2 BEFORE G OR M;HAS CONSIDERABLE ARMOURY STORED IN INTERDIMENSIONAL GROCERY BAG OF GOOD.REFERENCES IN SOME TEXTS TO DAE'THAD:SUSPECTED LINK.ALSO,CONNECTIONS WITH SOME FORM OF RING POSSIBLE.LAST COUNT:641 EVIL GENII FROM VARIOUS DIMENSIONS THWARTED.NO OTHER INFO AT PRESENT]

*sea watches, fascinated, from the shadows. she does not yet fully comprehend the current goings-on, so she decides not to take sides until she figures out which side she should be on. evillene sits on the ground, pulls out a pocketknife, and starts engraving her name on the wooden planks of the dock*

*With inhuman persistence, UH stands once more and launches himself against his erstwhile allies. His blows are uncontrolled, wild but ferocious and unrelenting. Once again he is cuffed away by Gigus' tail, and once again he gets up. He is about to make another run, when Maestus makes a little twisting movement with his fist. UH crumples. Maestus remains impassive.*

Death Avocado steps towards Uncle Heavy, but thinks better of it and turns to face Maestus. But the night breeze blows across an empty space; Maestus is gone.

[Daeth Advocado]Wh...oh f...sh...HOLY BEARD!! *turns to Giguschild* We HAVE to find him! NOW! Seek, boy!

Giguschild looks derogatively at him, grins, and leaps into the water. A smooth, thrashing ripple shoots towards the bank and then sinks out of sight.

[Daeth Avocado] Piss. Oh SH..darn! The PG rating! Ah fu...dash it, I don't have time to stand here mumbling...

He reaches into the Grocery bag of Good and pulls out a battered and faded oilskin map. A small, crackling dot moves swiftly across it, marking the position of Giguschild's armlet.

[Daeth Advocado] Cooome on, boy...

He pounds off into the cold night, leaving Uncle Heavy in a small, sea-water soaked heap.