Booster suddenly remembered that carjacking Skeets had predicted earlier. Hadn't that been on Thirty-Third Street? He grinned at the irony. Sounds like events are right on schedule. Peeling the woman's fingers away from the open door, he hefted the Rambler with both hands.
"My car—!" the woman cried out.
Booster flung the Rambler at the monster with all his strength. "Here's hoping you filled the gas tank, lady!"
The auto arced through the smoke-filled air before exploding against the monster's side. A bright orange fireball briefly lighted up the night. The smell of burnt fish contaminated the air as the wounded behemoth howled in protest, but the attack only seemed to anger the monster. Its tentacles lashed out at defenseless cars and buildings, smashing them to pieces. Jagged fangs gnashed together within its enormous maw. Smoking metal fragments, which were all that was left of the ancient Rambler, pelted the street and sidewalk. The evicted owner of the car fled in terror, but from Booster, the monster, or both?
Who cares? he thought. Just so long as she gets out of here, pronto!
He backed away as the monster charged toward him.
"That didn't make a dent!" Booster observed of his impromptu car bomb. Frustration filled his voice. "Skeets, what are my options?"
“PLEASE MAINTAIN YD U R FORCE FIELD, SIR.”
"Yes, mother!" he snapped impatiently. The monster was getting closer by the second. "Now talk to me about offensive strateg—HuuhV
A monstrous tentacle whipped down, hammering Booster into the pavement. He tasted asphalt and felt every bone and muscle in his body quivering from the blow; it was like getting a full-body massage from Doomsday or Solomon Grundy. Feeling more than slightly concussed, he crawled out from beneath the tentacle and took to the sky. "Never mind!" he shouted at Skeets. "I have my own plan! What time is the next midtown rail?"
Several of the giant tentacles were still dismantling the elevated tracks. If he was lucky, there was still time to dispose of the beast before the next monorail arrived. The last thing he needed was another trainload of civilians in danger.
“9: 1 9, SIR!” .
He dived toward the tracks. "And what time is it now?"
“9: 1 4, SIR!”
"Perfect." Booster grinned past his busted lips. This was just the opportunity he had been waiting for!
On the street below, closer to the action than was really advisable, Clark watched as Booster touched down upon the tracks. The metallic gold fabric in Booster's uniform made it easy to keep the hero in view, even without telescopic vision. Clark's eyes widened behind his glasses as Booster reached down to grab the electrified rail running the length of the tracks. His heart sank as he guessed what Booster had in mind. "Oh, surely he's not going to ..Clark rushed forward, shouting. "Booster, no! A fluctuation like that will blow the ..
Clark's warning fell on deaf ears. He could only watch in dismay as Booster wrenched the power conduit free of the tracks. For a moment, there was a blinding flash of electricity as sparks sprayed from one end of the ruptured rail, which Booster clearly intended to use to electrocute the Ballostro. A wary tentacle retreated from the hissing sparks—until the power went out and the entire neighborhood was cast into darkness.
"Midtown power grid," Clark murmured. He sighed and shook his head, disappointed by the other hero's carelessness. I thought Booster was better than this.
With no more electrical pyrotechnics to hold it at bay, the swinging tentacle batted Booster off the elevated tracks. He crashed to the street once more, landing in a heap of rubble near a crumpled taxicab. He moaned weakly and clutched his side. Were his ribs cracked or merely broken? Without his X-ray vision, Clark couldn't tell.
Meanwhile, pandemonium was breaking out all around Clark. The sudden blackout had only heightened the terror of the innocent bystanders clogging the streets. Panic-stricken voices cried out in the night:
"What the hell happened to the lights?"
"Ask Booster Gold! Nice goin', hero!" -
"I can still hear the monster! I think it's coming!"
. "Sydney? Sydney? It's daddy, honey! Where are you?"
"Can't see a thing!"
Clark stumbled through the chaos. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he made out Booster lying on the ground beneath the demolished tracks. Coughing hoarsely, he seemed to be having trouble getting up, let alone helping the hysterical people all around him. Clark clenched his jaw in frustration; at times like this, he hated being nothing more than a mild-mannered reporter. Metropolis needed a hero—and, sad to say, Booster seemed to falling down on the job.
Just when everything looked black, however, a brilliant white light shone down from above. Clark looked up to see Supernova swooping down from the cloudy sky. "Everyone calm down!" The caped hero radiated an incandescent glow that practically turned the night into day. "I'll light the way!"
His timely arrival filled the crowd with hope.
"It's Supernova!"
"Oh, thank God!"
Clark experienced a sense of relief as well. He still had plenty of questions about this new hero, but he was definitely glad to see him. Maybe Supernova would fare better than Booster Gold against the amphibious menace? Clark crossed his fingers.
Abeam of light trailing behind him like a comet's tail, Supernova flew over the Ballostro. The multilimbed leviathan vanished in a blinding flash, leaving only the hijacked submarine behind. Enthusiastic cheers greeted the monster's disappearance.
"Ba-boom" A bicycle messenger grinned at Clark. "Supernova, one. Big tentacly thing, zero." He pumped his fist in the air. "That's what I'm talkin' about!"
Clark was equally impressed. I couldn't have dealt with that creature more effectively myself. He tracked the flying hero with his eyes, wondering where and how Supernova had acquired his powers and expertise. Just who are you anyway?
The emergency over, Supernova descended from the sky. Glowing as brightly as his stellar namesake, he landed on the street in front of Booster, who was still sprawled amidst the debris. Scuff marks dimmed the latter's blue and gold uniform. Torn fabric exposed glimpses of twenty-fifth-century circuitry. His goggles were scratched and cracked across one lens. The last few corporate decals on his costume were concealed by dust and soot. The battered-looking hero was a far cry from the beaming celebrity who had adorned billboards and magazine covers only two months ago. Blood trickled from his swollen lip.
"Hey, Booster!" a bystander called out, adding insult to injury. "You suck!"
Lifting his head, Booster spit a mouthful of blood onto the cracked blacktop. "You're welcome," he croaked hoarsely.
Clark couldn't help feeling sorry for Booster. Even he knew that the public could be surprisingly fickle at times. He shouldered his way through the crowd to get closer to the two heroes.
"It's over, Booster," Supernova said, looking down on the fallen champion. He extended a gloved hand. "Give me your hand!"
"We love you, Supernova!" some exuberant fans hollered in the background. "Supernova rules!" .
Booster looked about in confusion. He seemed dazed, and possibly in need of medical attention. Ignoring the hand being offered by Supernova, he climbed unsteadily onto his knees. "Where'd the monster go ... ?"
"I zapped it away," Supernova informed him. "No need to thank me. The city's safe now, and you are too."
Clark frowned. Was it just his imagination, or was Supernova being deliberately condescending to poor Booster? That's uncalled for, he thought. As Superman, he had always striven to treat his fellow heroes courteously, no matter what. Despite his recent missteps, Booster had proven himself in battle before. He remembered Booster coming to his aid in the epic struggle against
Doomsday, and fighting against the Secret Society of Super-Villains during the recent Crisis. For all his failings, Booster Gold had earned a little respect.
A nearby teenager obviously disagreed. "Should call him Booster Fold!" the boy said loudly. He spat on the sidewalk in disgust.
"Ignore the insults, Booster," Supernova advised. He continued to hold out his hand. "You're not going to pay attention to these people, are you? Of course you're not." There was no longer any mistaking the mocking tone in the glowing hero's voice. "I mean, why start now, right?"
Aside from Clark, the entire crowd snickered and laughed. "Good one!" the bicycle messenger brayed.
That was the last straw, at least as far as Booster was concerned. Launching himself from the ground, he tackled Supernova and knocked the other hero backward onto the street. Gasps erupted from the crowd, some of whom backed away nervously, while others surged forward for a better look. Clark tried to get through the mob, hoping to calm Booster down, but found himself blocked by the press of bodies hemming him in on all sides. The prospect of a fight drew gawkers from all directions.
“sir, contain yourself!” Skeets exclaimed.
"Shut up!" Booster snapped at the robot. Kneeling on top of Supernova, his knees digging into the other hero's abdomen, he drew back his fist. "I've had it with this smug bastard! He's pushed me too far!" He pounded Supernova in the face, provoking boos and hisses from the outraged spectators. His own face was flushed with anger. "You can't bully me, you caped creep! You're not the hero in this city! I am! ME!" A force blast fired from his gauntlet. "So you can go to hell!"
Taken by surprise, Supernova failed to defend himself at first, but quickly recovered from Booster's assault. He nimbly sprang out of the way of the force blast, which pulverized the asphalt beneath him instead. "Listen to yourself!" he accused Booster. "You're no hero! You're a billboard!" A scissor-kick connected with Booster's chin, propelling him onto his back. "You turn my stomach! You never had the confidence to earn people's respect, so you tried to buy it! Well, guess what?" He pounced at Booster, his fists clenched. "Metropolis found out the truth about Booster Gold! Staged stunts he can handle, but in a genuine crisis, he—"
"I can do the job!" Booster insisted. A shimmering force-field bubble extended outward from his uniform, slamming into Supernova, who had the breath knocked out of him. He tumbled backward and Booster regained the offensive. "What's your track record, you flash in the pan?" He rocketed at his foe. "Who needs you?"
“actually,” Skeets observed, “at this moment, he’sthis panicked
CITY’S ONLY SOURCE OF LIGHT!”
But Booster was past caring. Driven by what appeared to be an uncontrollable rage, he delivered an uppercut to Supernova's chin. "You think I'm a joke?" He threw his weight into the blow, staggering his opponent. "How funny am I now? Huh?"
"You're too pathetic to be a joke, Gold!" Supernova taunted him, even as Booster punched him in the face with his left. Supernova's blue hood made it impossible to tell how much damage Booster was inflicting. "You're just a loser!"
TJiis is getting out of hand, Clark thought. He managed to squeeze his way to the front of the crowd, but, without his powers, he knew better than to get between two super-powered combatants. He could only hope that either Booster or Supernova would come to his senses before anyone got seriously hurt.
“Booster!” Skeets paged him urgently, “control yourself: according TO MY SENSORS, we HAVE AN UNFORESEEN SITUATION. WHEN THE SEA CREATURE BREACHED THE SUBMARINE’S HULL, HE
must have damaged its nuclear engines!” Clark tensed, not liking the sound of this, “it’s leaking radiation into the area—and the
REACTOR CORE IS IN DANGER OF EXPLODING!”
Great Rao! Clark thought in alarm, invoking an ancient Kryptonian deity. He instinctively looked for a place to change, then remembered that he wasn't wearing his Superman uniform under his clothes. He stared helplessly at the lifeless sub, which was perched atop a mountain of rubble where a section of the monorail track had once been. A layer of gray, soundproof rubber insulated its steel-alloy hull. The derelict vessel was over three hundred feet long and probably weighed four thousand tons or so. Curious citizens, who had been poking around the sub, suddenly scurried away in fear.
Clark couldn't blame them.
To his credit, Supernova immediately attempted to take charge of the situation. "Gold, clear the area!" he instructed the other hero, putting their personal differences on hold. He turned toward the radioactive sub. "I'll handle the—"
"NO!" Booster blurted. Rushing past Supernova, he elbowed his rival in the face. "This one's mine!" He soared into the air above the beached submarine. "Skeets, reprogram my suit to process that radiation! If I Can route that power directly into my force field and antigrav, we can make ourselves some history and show the new guy who's boss!"
Bright golden tractor beams emanated from his palms, latching onto the massive submarine. A shimmering halo enveloped the vessel from bow to stern. The beached vessel rocked atop the heaped debris.
"Run!" someone shouted. If nothing else, Skeets' announcement of the radiation leak had served to clear out the crowd confining Clark. As his fellow citizens abandoned the site in droves, he hurried forward to join Supernova. The masked hero nodded at Clark, recognizing him from their interview five weeks ago. Together, they watched anxiously as Booster Gold attempted to deal with the crisis at hand.
"Kent, what's he doing?"
"More than ... my God ... I ever thought he could," Clark admitted as, before his eyes, Booster landed atop the sub. The glow from his ship-sized force field illuminated the blacked-out city. Clark squinted against the glare.
"Hey, Metropolis!" Booster stood triumphantly astride the sub's conning tower as he addressed the awestruck populace below. "You want a big, shiny star to light your skies. Well, here I am!"
The entire submar ine lifted off into the sky, rising rapidly above the imperiled city. Thousands of tons in weight, it looked like the LexCorp blimp, except brighter. Much, much brighter.
“sir!” Skeets shouted desperately. The robot hovered near Clark and Supernova, as if reluctant to get too close to Booster's spectacular display., “your
FORCE FIELD! THE STRAIN ON THE SUIT IS TOO—”
Booster ignored Skeets' frantic warning. His voice rang out over Metropolis as the glowing sub ascended higher than the skyscrapers overlooking Midtown.
"That's right, eveiydamnbodyl Forget Supernova! The name with the claim to fame is Booster Gold!" Without his telescopic vision, Clark couldn't even see Booster anymore. Even the captured sub was nothing more than a cigar-shaped UFO in the night sky. Clark guessed that Booster was employing some sort of future technology to amplify his voice so that all could hear it. "And I'm back, baby! I'M BACK!"
A moment later, the sub exploded like a supernova above Metropolis. Clark blinked and averted his eyes as, just for an instant, the night was lit up like a summer afternoon. Clark felt the heat of the explosion against his face and guessed that his face was going to be sunburned in the morning, along with those of everyone else out in the open. For a second, he flashed back to that terrible moment, at the end of the Crisis, when he had been forced to fly straight through the heart of Krypton's red sun. The blazing fireball that had consumed the submarine was almost that intense.
Booster! he thought, fearful for the hero's safety. Did his force field protect him or... ?
“THIS WASN’T IN THE RECORDS!” Skeets Squawked. “THIS WASN’T
supposed to happen!” His optical sensors were turned toward the sky.
“SAVE HIM!”
"We'll catch him, Skeets," Clark tried to reassure the agitated robot, even as Supernova took off into the air. Blue spots danced before Clark's watery eyes, which were still recovering from the blinding glare. He dimly glimpsed a blue and gold figure plummeting from high above the city. "We won't let him fall."
Supernova flew toward the plunging figure. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed through his hood. He reached out to catch the other man. "Hold on, Booster!" He caught the falling hero in his arms. "Hold ..."
His voice trailed off, and Clark's hopes dimmed. Supernova descended slowly from the sky, his own personal radiance reduced by several degrees. Booster's still form sagg
ed limply in the hero's arms. Clark feared the worst as he ran to meet Supernova upon the ground. Skeets zipped ahead of him. "Is he...?"
Supernova shook his head. "I tried to save him," he said somberly.
"No ..." Clark whispered. "No ..."
Although Booster's scorched costume remained intact, all the flesh had been seared from his body. All that was left of Booster Gold was a blackened skeleton inside a loose-fitting costume. Empty eye sockets stared out from behind the cracked golden goggles. The charred skull held little trace of Booster's colorful personality. Born in the twenty-fifth century, he had died only a few years into the twenty-first. .
Skeets sidled forward, “oh, michael . .
WEEK IB
SHIRUTA.
A full moon was sinking toward the horizon as Renee skulked through the sleeping wharves. A silent warehouse cast its shadow across a field of stacked cargo containers. She darted from one stack to another, taking care not to be seen. She glanced about warily. After so many years on the force, it felt weird to be the hunted fugitive this time around.
A greasy black rat scurried away at her approach. The rat's got it right, she thought. Stay in the shadows. Only come out at night. Run if you hear anyone coming.
Survive however you can....
Dirt smudged her face. Her grubby tank top and shorts looked like something one of the local beggars would wear. A scuffed leather satchel was slung over her shoulder. Huge banners, bearing the smiling profiles of Black Adam and Isis, hung from a crane above her head. A series of loud bangs nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. Then she realized that someone was just blowing off firecrackers outside the shipping yard. The city wide jubilation over the impending royal marriage had penetrated even the waterfront district.
This must be what London was like, she mused, the night before Charles and Di got hitched.
She crept up to a rectangular cargo container the size of a child's playhouse. A printed label identified the container 's point of origin as Gotham City. She rapped softly against one side of the corrugated steel box. "Charlie? It's me."