(no subject)

41.

“Come, sit my boy,” Vane pushed a chair forward and offered it to Mickey.

“You still think your new friends are coming to save you,” The rolling black cloud said. A television set clicked on above their heads.

“Here is what you need to know before you bestow any more trust on that group.”

“I took this footage just yesterday,” Vane told him in hushed tones, “I had been contacted by members of this group who were worried about your welfare.”

He moved around Mickey’s chair like he was looking for a way in.

“We offered to buy your freedom,” He put out his hand towards the being that shared the room with them. It was like he was asking for confirmation, but who could tell what the thing had done. If it nodded, what would that look like?

“You know I have money,” Vane said with more than enough pride, “But, since I met you I could never let that get between you and freedom.”

“Maybe this will show you why you might consider shifting your allegence in this conflict,” The millionaire said.

He returned to his chair and pushed a button for the tape to begin its progress.

The video was good, but not perfect. The location was Vane’s office. Vane sat behind his desk, and then there was a cut.

The door opened and in walked Colonel Stonedragon. He walked to the desk and stood for a moment.

The volume on the TV was pumped up by Vane using a remote. He was holding the control device and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“The transfer has been made,” Vane said on the tape.

Stonedragon nodded his head.

“$100 million for the boy?’ Vane asked, again on the tape.

The Colonel nodded without a trace of emotion.

The television monitor went dead.

“We paid $100 million and they gave you to us,” Vane said. “What does that tell you about them?”

Mickey wondered what they were trying to pull. It was obvious what the tape contained. No matter how they tried to frame this, it was different than they were saying.

“They paid you the money,” Mickey said, calmly.

There was somber silence through out the car.

“They gave you a ransom and you still didn’t give me back. So much for honor among thieves.”

The silence multiplied. Then Vane spoke.

“You are not a child. That was what fooled us. You look like a child,” He said.

“You are the fool I was told you were,” The Cloud Man rumbled.

“Hey, I can still do you a lot of good,” Vane said in a tone that said, “Please don’t realize you can get rid of me!”

The Being didn’t say a word, just moved forward to his desk. “Come here,” he said to Vane.

Vane was uncertain, but happy to still be alive.

“Watch and learn,” the being said to Mickey.

The creature handed the man a long piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Vane said, falling into pure terror. He was now in the heat of a reality he didn’t even know existed a year ago. He had gone from King of the World to Partner to flunky. He shook at the idea of what his new role might be.

“A power of attorney. Sign it.”

“But then . . .” Vane stammered.

“Sign it!” Thundered the being.

Vane gulped and picked up a pen and wrote his name, and slowly put the paper away from him.

The being billowed up to twice his size and enveloped the businessman. Vane struggled for a moment and the cloud lifted itself and its former partner into the air by a few inches.

Within a minute all movement within the cloud ceased. Then Vane’s lifeless form fell to the floor beneath.

Two men came from behind Mickey and moved the body out of the car.

“Never suffer fools,” The Cloud Being said in overture to a blackly inhuman laugh.

The boy sitting in the big, cushioned chair tried to understand just where he was, and where he had come from.

A couple of weeks ago he was a boy in Kansas wishing he could be a superhero, something he knew, for a fact, did not exist in reality.

Since then he had met and watch die a multimillionaire captain of industry. He had met creatures that he would have sworn existed no where but in fantasy novels or comic books.

He had seen his brother whom he loved injured, and he had hurt more than one other people who had meant to do him harm.

For a short second he wondered how Chance was doing.

At this moment, the entire room around Mickey started, and then was plunged into total darkness.

(c) 2005 by C. Wayne Owens

(no subject)

42.

The inky blackness was followed by a moment of near weightlessness. The train, or whatever it was, must be going straight down at a staggeringly high rate of descent.

Another start and they seemed to be going horizontal again.

Lights began to slowly regenerate around them and Mickey was emboldened to see bad guys all littered around the inside of the cabin.

Then he saw the cloud thing was at exactly the place it had been before the black out. This was a bit of a downer, and replaced the thing on its original spot on the “things you should be scared of” list.

“Everyone but Mr. McCauley, out!” shouted the monster.

Without a question the crew vanished as quickly as it was possible for solid matter to move.

Mickey crawled up into the chair he had formerly used.

“I do not believe I can confuse or trick you,” The thing said to Mickey, “Nor am I foolish enough to think you will willingly give yourself over to my side, even though, eventually you will see that we are more
truly mirroring the desires you will eventually credit as worthwhile.

“But, I can make a deal with you.”

Mickey waited, with the kind of courtesy he had been taught to afford cumulous individuals of greater age than oneself.

“As long as you work with us, rather than against us, you and your family will not have to pay for your bad judgment.”

“What do you want me to do?” The boy probed.

“Each time I will ask you to do a small task, nothing that would involve hurting anyone or doing anything illegal,” He was assured, “You need do nothing you would be ashamed of being part of.”

“Just the company I’d be with” he thought, but looked outwardly like he was seriously considering the offer.

“Thank you for not cracking wise when that was your first impulse,” The Cloud Being said, “You have manners and that is a plus that will reward you.”

“Gurtenalia!” The thing bellowed.”

A door at the other end of the cabin, one Mickey had not seen used before, opened and a woman stuck her head out.

“Aye,” said the woman, who wore an apron and was at least in her forties, although this sort of thing is most relative to someone Mickey’s age.

“Bring the boy food and drink,” He ordered, and returning to Mickey asked, “It has been a while since you ate?”

He nodded. No need to go hungry. Since they thought he was going to work with them anyway, it was doubtful they would put anything in the food.

The cook disappeared and the cloud sat back in his desk chair.

“Music?”

Mickey didn’t answer. The thing touched something before him on the table and the initial crackle of the speakers was heard.

Mickey wondered if he would hear “Tocatta and Fugue,” or “Ride of the Valkari,” or even some John Tesh. All of these would be proof of the evil.

What played made Mickey sad.

He would never be able to hear this music in the fullness of his joy again.

The speakers began to play “Penny Lane” by The Beatles.

At least the bastard had not ruined the Chipmunks for him.

(c) 2005 by C. Wayne Owens