THE INFINITES: INFINITE GAUNTLET
THE NEW ARC
THE NEW ARC
CHAPTER ONE: SKIPPING STONES
Since the town of Orient is like many small towns, their newspaper comes out once a week, on Wednesday. Here's what the Orient newspaper had in it this week...
News from the Orientvol. 89, no. 133, September 25, 2019"METEOR STRIKE"by Randall Gervious, beat reporter
The unique meteor crash that lit up the sky Tuesday night was a sight to see. Amateur photographers throughout the area have sent in pictures of this interesting event. This natural phenomena has all Orient talking. The meteor (as pictured below) fell just miles north of town in the field of Mr. John Dirtpoor, a local farmer. The field itself has been humorously nicknamed by Dirtpoor as "Fifty Shades of Hay."
There has been some interest state-wide from scientists wishing to come to Orient and see the meteor. It's not every day that a scientific discovery falls out of the sky. Anyone who visits can be sure to see why Orient is such a great community to live in."MOOSE TRAILS"by Sheila Weston, beat reporter
After last week's humorous episode with the moose that found its way inside Jen and Mo's grocery store, locals have responded in a bunch of creative ways. Second-grader Ryan Aikenopray thinks that new moose traps should be designed that look like grocery stores. Amateur photographer Cam Rastand wants to find the moose in the wild and make a photographic montage to enter into next year's county fair. And as for Jen and Mo? They're just happy the moose was finally taken out, thanks to St. Paul visitor Nappy McDowell, self-proclaimed moose expert. (Last week's issue had an interview with Mr. McDowell and has been well-received by readers as well as other journalists).The exclusive shot from last week"WATCH THE CLOCK"by Everette White, beat reporter
City officials have deployed maintenance workers across the town to synchronize the local clocks. After the recent malfunction of even the digital and atomic clocks in town, where each clock showed a different time, workers are going to check each public clock and make sure they are in good working order. County residents are encouraged to make sure their watches are working properly, and if not, to purchase a new watch. City officials do not expect this isolated incident to happen again.
Now onto our story...
Someplace where people give monologues, think like a dark stage in front of a curtain with a spotlight. Or something like that.
Glitch
They say that every epic saga has to start in the most unlikely of places. Like, Tattooine, which was like, not the best place to find working moisture vaporators if you know what I'm talking about. Or like, dude, what about Krypton when it's all going to kingdom come and the only one saved is a baby in a spaceship, except if you count those 3 bad guys trapped in the wimpiest jail ever, or practically every other bad guy that came from there to challenge Superman?! Sometimes I wonder if I'm from Krypton and I just don't know it. Maybe I am. I could say I am. But there are a few people who would doubt that. Haters, all of them, though, like, they might prefer to moniker themselves as "realists."
My name's Shawn, but everyone calls me Glitch. That's because I like being called "Glitch" and not "Shawn," so, like, I always introduce myself as Glitch and not by real name. Superheroes don't introduce themselves as their real name. Unless they're like under interrogation drugs or something. Or they're Iron Man. Or they're Iron Man under interrogation drugs. Because when you do that, you need to have a pretty sizeable re-su-may. And me? I'm still workin' on mine.
See, I make things suck. No, not like vaccuum cleaner suck. Some day I want to see a vaccuum cleaner company have the slogan, "We really suck. Buy our product." But when I make things suck, I make them like not work. And it could be vaccuum cleaners. But it's not just like limited to that, y'know. And I can also make people dumb for a little bit, but only if you want them to also like rebound to genius levels afterward, so I don't always use that one unless I have a need to.
Where was I? All I can see is a spotlight shining in my face.
Oh right. I was talking about epic sagas beginning in the most unlikely of places. And if they ever turn "epic" into a verb, like dude. I'm all on it. I want to be the first to epic. I will epic my way on over to get a shake, and then like, epic my way back. S'like, I was epicking that night. We all were. It was our traditional weekly Minnesota Infinites' meeting that proves that we still matter. But we didn't know what was to come...
Date - A Thursday, Sep. 26, 2019
Time - 7:00 p.m. CST
Place - The Orient, Minnesota town Legion Hall, room #2.
The meeting of the Minnesota Infinites was under way. Captain Calculator stood at the front, leading it. It had begun the typical way, with people chitchatting about nothing in general until it was some minutes past the time they were supposed to start. And trying to find Infinites who had gone to the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting next door by mistake. And shuffling recovering alcoholics from their room back to the other room. But nothing says the beginning of the Infinites' weekly meeting like everyone rising and saying the Minnesota Infinites' pledge. New members were handed out a sheet of paper with the following on it. Most of the people there just mumbled through it, except for Glitch who was completely enthralled with getting a comic book title, and Captain Calculator, who took pride in it. And they all rose and said it together...
"I am a superhero.
I am not weak or weenie.
I am worthy of taking down supervillains.
I am worthy of getting a comic book someday.
I will use my super abilities for good, not evil.
I am an Infinite! No, really!"
I am not weak or weenie.
I am worthy of taking down supervillains.
I am worthy of getting a comic book someday.
I will use my super abilities for good, not evil.
I am an Infinite! No, really!"
After that, the meeting was a typical meeting. Coathangerman had found 75 more cents to contribute to the general fund. The Teetotaler had gotten a Kleenex for someone who had a cold, but he was out of uniform, so it probably won't get written up in the papers. He also had received a phone contact from a comic book company! However, it was just the sales department, offering Teetotaler a $2 discount on a subscription. So while he had his hopes up that maybe the Minnesota Infinites were going to get more recognition nation-wide, it was a false alarm. Still, it was nice to be noticed. There was no old business. New business was the introduction of the newest members of the Minnesota Infinites. And then, the meeting broke up for their traditional dessert and socialization that someone always brought.
Someone did stop and get dessert for the meeting, right?
Meanwhile, across town
Ulterior Motive Man's house basement
The villains gather...
In the cramped basement, the lights dimmed, a villainous figure was clad in a treacherous costume covered in shades of red, black and line items. It was a fitting costume for the master of all things bureaucracy, Doctor Bureaucracy (or as he was called, "Doc Bur-Ock"). But few wanted to say that to him, lest he launch into a conversation on the ideal amount of signatures required on a civic petition to advocate for specific costuming materials and the amount of paperwork that generates. He stood at the podium, glared at the villains with a look of bored contempt that only one who has spent at least 20 years in the underbelly of society as a civil servant has.
"Welcome, villains, one and all, to our meeting. The first order of business is, once again, our group name. As you know, some time ago (has it been three years already?), we once went by the name, The Orient, Minnesota Super Villains' Club. However, there was a 3/4 majority vote at a duly called meeting that proposed a constitutional amendment to change the name. That amendment was studied, sent back to the committee, returned, sent back again, and returned once more at our last meeting. After looking upon it, we managed to pass this amendment with the required 3/4 majority of the quorum that was present, which is in fact a 2/3 majority of all villains when not present. So, on first glance, it would seem that we are going to have a new name after all this time. However..." (and here the villains as a group collectively groaned and cast their eyes of dismay on the ground, not that Doc Bur-Ock noticed), "However, we failed to fill out the secondary dominance necessary form of included gap-measures that we approved 7 meetings ago, at the special meeting with an approved quorum of 3, and then affirmed when we approved the minutes of the previous three meetings. And we likewise not only didn't fill out that form. We failed... to notarize it too! So I'm sorry to have to announce that the procedure has stalled, and we still have no real group name. The good news is, we're getting closer to that final stage."
(There was a reason that none of the villains wanted the job of chairman of the Villains' club. They would have to deal with Doc Bur-Ock's endless bureaucratese speeches and motions, that they all realized this would drive them insane. And while some of them were technically already insane, those guys didn't want the job, either).
Doc Bur-Ock cleared his throat. "Ahem. Moving on. On the agenda is the same question: How are we going to humiliate the Minnesota Infinites this week? Any ideas? Anyone?"
A villain stepped forward, in a costume both blue-ish and sandy colored. An outline of a southeastern state was portrayed broadly across his chest. It was a fitting outfit for the villain named, Florida Man.
"Yeah, boss. So, I was looking at something online recently..."
Doc Bur-Ock began to look annoyed. "Does that have anything to do with humiliating the Infinites?"
"Ok, well, no. I was Googling myself, because I was having an identity crisis and had to find out who I really was. But that's not important. Because, after I did that, I saw the local newspaper, and had a great idea."
Doc Bur-Ock's annoyed look didn't change. "Go on."
Florida Man said, "What was the most important item in the local news this week? I'll give you a hint. It was something so devious, so underhanded, so wrong - that I knew we had to involve it somehow."
Doc Bur-Ock thought he could see where this was going. "So, you're suggesting we take this large meteor that fell to earth and find some way to throw it at the Infinites and squish them?" And he got a big, evil smile!
Florida Man just looked confused. "Um. No. Not exactly. Who cares about a dumb old rock? No, I meant that we should find that moose that wandered into the grocery store, and capture it, and then sic it on the Infinites. They'll be too busy fighting off this moose, that they won't notice us stealing their ride!"
Doc Bur-Ock thought about it. It could work. If the Infinites didn't have their Infinite-mobile, they could hardly chase after the villains, could they? And they'd have to walk or heaven forbid, jog. He began to nod.
"Ok. Let's go find that moose! And then, that will be the first step in the downfall of the Minnesota Infinites!"
The meeting was, typically, rudely interrupted when Ulterior Motive Man's mother came downstairs and began dusting every shelf, wooden surface, and chair that the villains were sitting in. In typical villain fashion, the meeting was quickly adjourned and the villains all shuffled outside.
A press conference
Los Angeles
Glancing out at the angry crowd gathered, the woman closed her eyes and wished she were somewhere else. This had become a nightmare. Not only was the crowd seething. Their angry signs were already held in the air and shouts were already filling the air. If she could have been anywhere else, she would have. But Slipstream had to announce their latest failure to an already frenzied audience. Innocent blood had been spilled. Again. Countless lives were lost. And for what?
How the mighty had fallen in the last three years. In the beginning, when she had first joined the West Coast Infinites, the people at their press conferences were more thankful. Grateful, even while being crushed in spirit at the destruction they had been forced to endure. She and the others were the heroes of the day. People looked up to them who had done what they could, sometimes saving their city and even more from far worse destruction. Capturing villains who threatened the weak. Combating those powerful enough to defy authority, and challenge even the mightiest. They had been heroes... once.
Now, the West Coast Infinites - and practically all other Infinites' groups were hated. Three years ago the public's hearts had turned against them, and now it was a struggle to get any approval. The public dearly remembered the massacre that members of their group had brought about while under mind control. Members of the West Coast Infinites had killed their former leader, Nightshade, at the governor's inauguration. Later, at the national cemetery in Arlington, VA, she herself had been crippled while four former teammates had ripped their team to shreds. Others lost their lives. Many were injured. None were immune to the horror that enveloped that day.
But it didn't end there. Since then, the West Coast Infinites - and many more like them, had been hunted down. One by one, by this group of brainwashed people she used to know as friends. The public didn't know who to trust when their former heroes now became their attackers. And if the mightiest could be heroes one day and weapons of mass destruction the next?! No one was immune. No one was to be trusted. It didn't matter that they finally ended the onslaught. It didn't matter that the West Coast Infinites rebounded and came back. Because now, every little failure was magnified. Every time they could not succeed as they hoped, the public laid it on. The press no longer looked up to their former heroes, but both feared them as well as antagonized them. The news coverage always cast things in the most negative of light. Accidents were made to look intentional. Good things done were either ignored or seen as part of an ulterior motive. Some in the public had taken to shooting them (!) in broad daylight, as they came back tired from fighting or as they were out and about around town. If that was all, they might be able to ride it out. Save the citizens again. Win back respect. But when other Infinites - former Infinites, in her mind - began attacking them too? When the Infinites were in an all-out civil war against each other, and no one knew who they could trust? What can you do?
And who could they trust? Those "heroes" who had been previously mind-controlled, and caused damage? If it happened once, it could happen again. No one really knew what happened to Mindbender three years ago. Maybe he was dead as the rumor mill went. But Mindbender could have survived. Or someone like him could rise up again. Or those formerly controlled Infinites could lapse. It had happened to a few already. So no, you can't trust them. But former friends were now enemies. Rivals at the best, but combatants more likely than not.
This last attack had been devastating. A bomber had blown up their former headquarters, and several buildings nearby. Slipstream had an idea who it was. The former Infinite Jury. The guy had cracked. She had seen it coming, and couldn't stop him. But this made the already angry public even more incensed. And Slipstream had to be the messenger to come before them.
Before the bombing, Slipstream had dug deep into the files to see if there was anything out there to fix things. Anything. And while there were all kinds of plans of prototype advanced tech out there, there wasn't anything in store to help bring about the stability they needed. Until she found a few thin files, mostly with unsubstantiated rumors. And there were these things called Infinite Rocks. She didn't know whether to believe these wild speculations or to shake her head in dismay. Rocks? Seriously? But according to what was in those thin files, these Infinite Rocks had powers beyond what even the West Coast Infinites had. And while there were some that she could tell were not going to help in the slightest, one stood out. It was called the Time Rock. Legends said this had been used so that the wielder could go back or forward in time. That was something Slipstream could not get out of her mind. To go back in time, before Mindbender? Before the Infinites throughout the U.S. melted down and blew up against each other? A time before the public hated them, back to when they were loved? But that was it. No one knew where these Infinite Rocks were. Of if they even existed. She had been about to laugh the whole thing off, until she found in the file a top secret report from the CIA. (How it had made it's way into the file, Slipstream could only guess). The report was only a few paragraphs, not much, but the deputy director of the CIA himself thought he had witnessed something he described in the same way as one of the Infinite Rocks. The end result? It had caused a small rift or dimensional hole appear for a few seconds - enough time for a physical specimen of some kind to emerge. That had convinced her. Whatever else the rumor mill had created, these Infinite Rocks were not one of them.
So she went looking, from a distance. Her phone regularly received news of odd sightings, weird events, and so on. Most of these could be dismissed as unrelated and frankly unhelpful. But there were a few that had a different tenor to them. Could Infinite Rocks be at the source? The latest odd news came from a small town in Minnesota. Orient, town of 2000. Apparently, they had had some kind of weird meteor recently. And apparently, that hadn't been all. There were other odd things that had happened in that town in the last several years that didn't add up. This small town of Orient might be worthy of checking out. But she'd have to go either alone, or with someone she knew she could trust. Neither option was truly safe...
Breathing in deeply, Slipstream mentally prepared herself to go out and meet the angry press. Tomorrow, she would take a long leave of absence and visit small town Orient, Minnesota, home of odd events, and then see about this mysterious meteor. With that small hope that something could turn out good from it, she stepped out to the press conference, not hovering like she always did but more slumping out, amidst the yells and rage of the public.
A warship, outer space
The robotic drones had found what they were looking for. Data and numbers tumbled across the viewscreen, and they processed it in microseconds. The item in question had been found. "Clever of them," the warlord thought. "To send it on a meteor and try to keep it from me." But the drones had processed where the meteor had gone. And it was there that the warlord would now go. He had a set to complete, a set for his new toy. All he needed were a few little rocks. And now, he knew where to find them. A pathetic little backwards planet called "Earth." Both of them were there, according to the scans and astrometry. Pitiful, really. But the warlord could care less. Once the set was complete, the universe would be forced to their knees in terror.
