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Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call Page 12
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“There’s no way to go back, not after you’ve been tainted with that darkness.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“No, but the blokes who take up that armor aren’t the nicest sort in the first place.” Mr. Graves smiled at her. “See what I’m saying? You’re too nice for this sort of thing. You ought to leave it to an old bruiser like me.”
“I won’t do that,” Emma said. “It’s my job now, like Marlin said.”
Mr. Graves nodded at this. “You might want to reconsider that. It’s a hard life you’re in for. Let me tell you—”
***
I suppose you’ve already figured out I’m not from here originally. I was born in London, long before even your parents were born. I came here after the war. I had heard in a pub that America was the place to be. America would be the center for the new age now that they had the Bomb and had come out of it with hardly a scratch, not up to their necks in blood like us in Europe. The man was drunk off his arse, but he seemed on to something. So with what money I had left from my service days I got on a boat to this country.
I didn’t get far once I landed here. About the only work for someone like me—someone with more muscles than brains—was to work on the docks as a mule. I worked there ten hours a day for next to nothing. Shared a tiny flat with five other blokes.
Then one day this government wanker shows up. Not a military man from the look of him. Probably in the CIA, or OSS like it was back then. He said there was a crate on board we were absolutely, positively not to touch. Some of his own people were going to handle that one. Of course all sorts of theories went around about what it might be: Nazi gold, a secret weapon, or even Hitler’s body.
You’re a smart girl, so you might have figured it out already. I didn’t until that night while I slept. One of my old army mates, Reginald, came to me in a dream. He said, “You haven’t made anything of yourself, you wanker.”
“What do you want me to do, Reg? I’m just a mule.”
“You got the brains of one, that’s for sure,” he said. Then he softened a bit and said, “But you got the heart of a lion. I saw it over there. Like when you carried me all the way to the field hospital when that sniper hit me.”
“Not much need for that sort of thing over here, is there?”
“If I weren’t a ghost I’d give you a good kick in the knickers for that one.” He gave me that hard look like when he would order us to take a machine gun nest. “That government crate has something very important on it. You need to get your arse in there and open it up.”
“But I could go to jail for that.”
“Only if you get caught, you damned fool.”
“What’s in there?”
“Something that will allow you to be somebody.”
“What are you getting on about, Reg?”
“Trust me, lad. There’s a reason you didn’t die in the war when by all rights you should have. You have a destiny. It’s in that crate.”
I still didn’t believe him, but I decided to go anyway and see what it was all about. If the government blokes showed up, I’d tell them I got mixed up. They were only on the outside of the ship to watch the perimeter. I waited until one of them took a smoke break and then I went inside.
You already know what came next. I got the crate open and inside was that big red box, like the one you found. I opened it up and saw the armor inside. Then this damned ghost showed up and started to give me his spiel about the honor and tradition of the Order of the Scarlet Knight and how imperative it was I save the world from evil and so forth.
Of course about the only reading I’d ever done was the comic books. I was dumb enough to think I’d be like one of those costumed adventurers. Thought I’d go around punching out criminals and kissing damsels in distress. I thought it would be fun.
The first time I ran into the Dragoon, it stopped being fun. His armor arrived from overseas too. Some air force colonel found it and decided he would make himself an atomic bomb. Then he’d bring the rest of the world to its knees.
First time I saw him, he was at Rampart State, to steal the notes from a scientist there who had worked on the Manhattan Project. He killed the poor bloke and made off with the notes before I could stop him. I finally caught up to him at an airbase where he planned to steal himself a casing for his bomb. We got into a tussle with me finally coming out on top.
I thought I’d won. I felt so generous I gave him the chance to surrender. Instead, he pulled out a detonator he’d hidden on himself. He’d rigged the munitions bunker to explode in order to cover his escape. The explosion might have killed both of us if not for the armor. It saved my life that day. Of course the air force people around there didn’t have no armor. About thirty of them died.
The Dragoon tried to escape. I caught up with him again and this time there was no nonsense about it. I ran the Sword of Justice right through his foul heart. Just to be sure I cut his head off too.
I hid the black armor away and hoped I’d seen the last of it. Then I got down to work. Found me a job at the Plaine Museum, pushing a broom around. The pay wasn’t great, but it was enough that I could get my own place so no one would bug me.
It wasn’t at all like in the comics. It was a nasty business for the most part. Night after night of going out there, busting the chops of purse-snatchers, bank robbers, murderers, and rapists. The mob back then was even worse than it is these days; the harbor was practically backed up from the number of bodies floating in it.
Here’s what you need to understand, lass: no matter how many of them I put away, there were always more of them. You think people would learn, but for some men—and women—that’s all they know. They come from the bad neighborhoods or maybe they’re twisted inside. All they know is taking, like a bunch of wild dogs fighting over a bone. You can kick a few of them to the pound, but there’s always going to be more.
I tried for twenty-five years to clean up this city. Twenty-five years without a steady girl and hardly any nights off. When you’re the Scarlet Knight you can’t up and take a vacation. People come to look to you when things get bad. Some girl gets mugged in an alley, you can’t be sitting around the pub playing darts. It becomes not just your job, but also your life.
I might have gone on doing it for another twenty-five years if he hadn’t shown up again. This time he was even worse than before. This one didn’t want world domination or anything like that. He only cared about killing as many as he could.
You probably heard about what happened to old St. Joe’s. He stole some demolition charges and blew the place up. No warnings or holding anyone hostage. He got down there in the basement and set the charges. Killed hundreds of people, including dozens of children and newborns. Of course the police said it was a gas main break, so they wouldn’t scare the public more than they were.
I forgot about everything else and made it my life’s work to track this bastard down. I managed to catch up to him as he was rigging a subway car to explode. What I should have realized was he was clever enough to know I’d be on his trail.
When I jumped on top of the train to cut my way inside, I found him waiting for me. Just about took my head off with some of his flying claws. I could have thrown the sword at him, but he’d have knocked it down. So I waded towards him, knowing the only way to stop him was to get him close.
I managed to get in close to him without being cut up too much. I tried to get him with the sword, but he knocked it behind me, out of my reach. Before I could call for it, he got me right here in the left leg with his claws. If not for the armor he’d probably have taken it clean off; as it was it was holding on by a thread.
I barely kept myself from going into shock. I grabbed onto his arms, to keep him from getting at me with the claws. Then I called for the sword. At the last moment I ducked and let it go right through his neck. That was it for him.
I crawled back to the engine and nearly tore off my leg when I dropped inside to slow the train down. I didn’t want t
o move; I wanted to lie there and die, but I didn’t. Once the train stopped, I crawled out of there. I got the armor somewhere safe and then found a cop to give me a ride to the hospital.
That’s where I met my future wife. She was a nurse there. Good looking in those days and nice, though not nearly as nice as you. Between her sweet face and bandages up to my waist on my left leg, I thought maybe it was time to give this up. So that’s what I did. I retired.
***
“You quit,” Marlin said.
“I know, I was supposed to go down fighting like the rest.” Mr. Graves shook his head and then sighed. “The way it worked out, that might have been for the best. Except then I never would have met a cute little girl wanting to touch that big elephant in the museum.”
“Mastodon,” Emma corrected from force of habit.
“Yes, well, you know what I mean.”
“I know.” She put a gloved hand on his shoulder. “But you made a difference. You saved all those people on the subway.”
“Look where that got me,” he said. He tapped his leg. “You keep this up and something even worse will happen to you. Even if it doesn’t, it’s not going to be the kind of life for a girl like you. You should be in that lab winning a Nobel Prize or two. That’s your destiny.”
“I can’t leave him running around. He’ll kill a lot more people.”
“Haven’t you listened to a word I said? There will be another one and another one. It’s been going on for four thousand years now. There’s no stopping it!” His voice softened as he added, “This isn’t your war. Leave the armor and let me finish what I started.”
“I can’t let you do that.” She smiled slightly at him. “I’ll make you a deal. After this Dragoon is dealt with, I’ll retire like you did.”
“If you live long enough,” Marlin said.
“Please, lass, don’t make the same mistake I did.”
“I won’t, but I can’t let you do this. I couldn’t live with myself then.”
He shook his head. “There’s no talking you out of it, is there?”
“No. This is the logical thing to do.”
“I’ll have to trust you about that.”
She took his hand to help him to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Chapter 16
When she woke up the next morning, Emma found a protein shake with a note from Becky. “Went in early. Back tonight—Becky.”
After she downed the shake, Emma decided to forego another shower. With two last night she figured she was clean enough. Not that it would matter much down in the subbasement, where she wouldn’t see anyone, except perhaps if Marlin decided to float up for a visit.
That she had become the Scarlet Knight and managed to rescue Mr. Graves—barely—from the evil Black Dragoon seemed like a dream. But when she opened the closet and lifted her old quilt, she saw the armor stacked up as neatly as she’d left it.
She didn’t realize she’d forgotten something until she arrived at the museum. Dr. Dreyfus sat on a bench out front, as if waiting for her. “Hey,” he said. “Did you get contacts?”
“Contacts?” She put a hand to her face and realized she didn’t have her glasses on, yet she could see perfectly, better than she had been able to since she was six. “Oh, right. Yes, I got contacts.”
“That’s great. Now people can see your eyes.”
Her face warmed at this and she turned her naked eyes to the ground. “I should probably go inside. Lot of work to do.”
“Wait a minute,” he said. He rose from the bench to put a hand on her arm. “I wanted to buy you a get well present, so I asked my godfather and he’s not using his box at the opera house. They’re staging Götterdämmerung Friday. I thought you and I could go and I could show you I’m not such a bad guy.”
She desperately wanted to say yes, but then she thought of the bomb shelter beneath her feet and the armor in her closet. She was the Scarlet Knight now and she had promised Mr. Graves and Marlin she would find the Black Dragoon and stop him. It would be irresponsible of her to go on a date. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The rules—”
“The hell with the rules!” he said and then blushed in time with her. “I’m sorry. But the director didn’t mind it last time, did she?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Though she was new to the superhero game, Emma knew it wasn't smart to reveal her identity to anyone. The Dragoon could use this knowledge against her to harm those she loved. The fewer people who knew of her secret identity, the better.
She shook her head. “I can’t right now.”
She wanted to go, but he had taken hold of her arm. She could probably shake him away if she wanted, but a very large part of her didn’t want to. He met her eyes and said, “Emma, I like you. And I think you like me too. Can’t we forget about these silly rules and go on one date like normal adults?”
“I don’t know—”
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. Go to the opera with me and if you hate being with me, you never have to see me again. I won’t so much as look at you ever again.”
She thought again of her new duties, but when she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t tell him no. He really did care about her and it would hurt him terribly if she rejected him now. He might never speak to her again, something she couldn’t bear. “All right,” she said. “One date.”
“Great. Thanks. You aren’t going to regret this,” he said, but she already did.
***
She didn’t see Dr. Dreyfus or anyone else after work. Instead she changed into her running clothes and then went straight down to the Sanctuary; she used another pair of galoshes she found to avoid any mess. If she would be coming down here for a while longer, she would have to come up with a better way to deal with the mud.
Marlin waited for her inside; she wondered what he did all day—peek in bedrooms and showers? “Well, now that you’re done staring at rocks, we can get down to business.”
“What I do is important.”
“Not more important than finding the Dragoon.”
“Meteors are important to our understanding of the universe.”
“Sure, because you understand so much of the universe so far. You didn’t even know the Sewer Rat was real.”
She went over to the red case, which was still empty, the armor back in her bedroom closet. “How am I supposed to do anything with the armor back home?”
“That’s going to be our first lesson tonight. My master equipped the case with a traveling spell. You say the magic words and the armor will come to you no matter where you are.”
“That’s convenient.”
“It beats trying to carry that stuff around.”
“So what are these magic words?”
“Mekka lekka weep ninibaum.”
“What language is that?”
“The language of magic.”
These words sounded like gibberish to her; was Marlin trying to play a trick on her, hazing the new girl? She told herself that not even the surly ghost would be that cruel. “Mekka lekka weep ninibaum,” she said. There wasn’t a flash of light or a puff of smoke, but when she looked over at the red case, the lid was closed. Opening it, she saw the armor neatly stacked inside once again. “That’s impressive.”
“Yes, now hurry up and change so we can get to the training.”
“Training? We aren’t going after the Dragoon?”
“Are you kidding? He’d shred you into kitty litter.”
“He didn’t last night.”
“You got lucky. Next time you face him, you need to be ready.”
She began to strap on the armor, which was slightly easier now that she knew what to do. Maybe by the time the Dragoon was defeated she would be able to do it quicker. “So what are we going to do?”
“We’ll find some small crimes for you to foil. Get your feet wet with petty criminals. Then you can work up to the big boy.”
As much as s
he wanted to go after the Dragoon, to stop him before anyone else was hurt, she couldn’t deny the logic of what Marlin said. She had gotten lucky a number of times last night. Lucky she’d dove in time to avoid his claws. Lucky she had been able to take out his legs. Lucky the Sword of Justice cut through that water pipe. She as easily could have wound up seriously injured like Mr. Graves or the both of them ground up into sausage.
She put the helmet on and then flipped up the visor. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
She was about to drop through the sewers, but Marlin called for her to stop. “What? It’ll be all right. The Sewer Rat won’t hurt me.”
“Go through the museum.”
“But it’s crawling with security guards and police.”
“That will give you practice at moving stealthily. Something you definitely need to work on.”
“It’s not my fault that wrench was there.”
“Yes, well, it’s not the wrench’s fault you’ve got clown feet.”
Emma took the elevator up to the basement, which housed the heating, cooling, and plumbing equipment. No one was down there, but she used the cape anyway to turn herself invisible. With the cape around her body, she had to be careful with her steps so as not to trip and fall back down. Marlin would never let her forget that.
On the ground floor she paused by the door to watch the security guards. One stood near Alex, a hand on his oversized flashlight. The flashlight couldn’t hurt her at all, but the guard would be sure to raise the alarm and then she’d have the police with their guns after her. She wasn’t quite ready to test how bulletproof the armor might be.
Marlin appeared at her side to whisper, “Watch out for the cameras.”
“Why?”
“The cameras can see you.”
“I thought you said—”
“Yes, but in my master’s day there were no cameras, so he didn’t take machines into account.”
That would add another degree of difficulty to it. When she looked up, she saw one of the cameras on the ceiling. Each camera covered one section of the main gallery; they remained stationary unless a guard chose to move it. She had memorized the location of these cameras before she began working at the museum, along with the locations of everything else like the stairs, elevators, and restrooms. It never hurt to be prepared.