Franklin Richards stared at the listless tigers sunning themselves in their enclosure. Even at the age of twelve, he knew their pain intimately.
Captured, caged and cut off. Not literally, of course. Metaphorically. Right? Right. Metaphorically.
He sighed and turned, leaning against the barrier. His class was scattered about the zoo, keeping the chaperones busy. Which left Franklin alone…as usual. It wasn’t so much that he minded the isolation. It was simply that the feeling that he was missing out on a whole world of interesting occurrences was becoming a bit of an annoyance.
When he had had powers--no, Franklin shook his head. No use whining about that. Uncle Ben had taught him that. No use thinking about it, either, especially as he wasn’t supposed to remember it. Which he did.
He frowned and turned back to the tigers. They, in turn, stared at him. Franklin blinked. “You were muttering,” someone said. Franklin turned. A woman smiled at him. Lithe and tall, she leaned against the barrier, tanned fingers drumming a tuneless ditty on it. Red hair spilled over the collar of the coat she wore. “And tigers have very good hearing.”
“Oops,” he said, staring at the woman. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, smiling, “though you do remind me a bit of my husband.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, blonde boys brood spectacularly.”
Franklin swallowed, feeling flushed. “I wasn’t--I mean, I--”
The woman laughed, and a tiger snarled. “Are you here alone?” she asked, smiling.
He shrugged. “I can take care of myself.”
“Oh?”
Her smile grew and Franklin’s flush grew with it. “Yeah. I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“What do your parents think about that?”
“Seeing as they’re the ones who get me into it--” Franklin stopped. “The tigers got quiet.”
The woman didn’t reply. Instead, her eyes were locked on a puddle of rainwater at Franklin’s feet. “What--?” he began. The water rippled.
A shadow fell over them. Franklin and the woman looked up. Something else looked down.
|
#2
APR 10 |
 |
The Mole Who Roared, Part Two:
“Where Creatures Roam”
“He’s holding them all in there?” Reed Richards, sometimes known as Mr. Fantastic, asked of the large police officer standing beside him. They both stood behind the barricades the NYPD had erected a few hundred yards from the gigantic creatures that now surrounded the UN building in a protective wall.
“Yeah, Richards, nobody in or out as far as we’ve seen. Those big skells have even been swatting at the news choppers trying to get pictures,” Lieutenant Stone, commanding officer of Code: BLUE, grunted.
“Know that feelin’,” Ben Grimm, the Thing, grunted. He shifted his weight with the sound of rocks scraping together and looked at Stone. “Heard you got Cage and his outfit on retainer now, Stone.”
“They’re busy,” Stone said, handing Grimm a cigar from the pack he kept shoved behind the neckline of his body armor. “Besides which, this is really more your thing, ain’t it?”
“Everything is my thing,” Grimm said, biting off the end of the cigar and spitting it out. “Goes with the name.”
Before he could accept the light Stone offered, a bubble of force surrounded the cigar and crushed it to ribbons. The Thing watched the remains waft to the ground mournfully.
“Need I remind you that you’re quitting?” Susan Richards said, running a hand through her blonde hair. “New baby in the house, remember?”
“Not mine,” Ben said quickly, looking at Stone.
Stone, for his part, was looking up. Johnny Storm, hovering overhead, his thin form wreathed in cosmic flame, made a face. “Not mine either, Stone.”
“Just checking. Hate to have to update my files.”
“Paranoid much?” Johnny said, dropping lightly to the ground as he snuffed his flame.
Stone sniffed and turned back to Reed. “Just as soon as Majowski gets back with our heavy artillery, I’m taking Code: BLUE in. Unless of course, you’ve got a better idea?”
“Well, generally, in a hostage situation, you negotiate,” Reed said. Ben and Johnny stifled snorts.
Stone ignored them. “We’ve tried,” Stone said. “So far, nothing.”
“Maybe you’re not speaking the right language,” Reed said. “Elder tends to react poorly to aggression. Or even merely what he perceives as aggression.”
“I’ve read the dossier,” Stone said, running a hand over his shaved pate. “I’ve read all the dossiers.”
Reed frowned. “All?”
“Elder isn’t in there alone, Dr. Richards.” Stone looked at him. “The new Atlantean ambassador--”
“Krang,” Reed said. “Yes. That could be a volatile combination.” He rubbed his chin. “But that’s not all, is it?”
“Not even close,” Stone said.
Inside the United Nations, tensions were understandably high. After all, only scant hours ago a monstrosity had burst out of nowhere and torn the roof off of one of the most important buildings in the world. Therefore, the dignitaries gathered can be forgiven their complete and total breakdown into a form of quiet, ill-concealed panic.
Well, except for three of them.
AlphaOne, first and last of the original robotic duplicates of Victor Von Doom and current Latverian ambassador, scowled behind his iron mask as he took in the ranting midget on the podium. The Mole Man. Pathetic…a creature of base appetites and even baser manners. Briefly, he considered simply killing the foolish little beast. A twitch of his gauntlet, and it would be over. Yet, to do so would perhaps be wasteful in the extreme. And AlphOne’s master-how his circuits sparked at that thought-despised waste.
Count Krang of Atlantis, while not so cold-blooded as the Doombot, was thinking much the same thing. He had risen to his feet when the monsters had made their presence known, ready to deal out swift retribution. But something held him back. Pity, perhaps; pity for the mad little man standing at the podium. Pity for a man so out of his depth he couldn’t even see the light. Krang knew that feeling intimately.
Crystal Amaquelin-Maximoff, on the other hand, felt neither pity nor revulsion. Then, she had lived a life filled with enough of both and had little use for either these days. As the representative of her husband’s government in Genosha, she had turned her formidable politesse-schooled to perfection in the Court of Attilan-towards solidifying the country’s place among the nations of the UN.
Now, she saw an opportunity to do just that. Doubtless, her husband would not approve, but then she hadn’t cared about his approval for some time. Pietro trusted her judgment, if nothing else. Standing before the Mole Man, a Doombot on one side and a former Atlantean renegade on the other, she took a brief moment to wonder if he was right to do so.
Then, she forged ahead. “Mr. Elder, do you know who I am?”
“Of course! I’m not an idiot!” the Mole Man hissed, leaning forward over the podium. “But if you’re hoping to appeal to my better nature--”
“Ha!” Krang gave a bark of laughter. The Mole Man glared at him, but Crystal extended a hand between them.
“I intend to do just that, in fact. You are a king, are you not?”
“I--yes,” the Mole Man said, holding himself up a bit straighter. “Yes.”
“My cousin is a king. He taught me many things about royal privilege.” She stepped forward, her robes of state rustling softly. She wore the regalia of Attilan, as was her right, moderated somewhat by the Seal of Magnus pinned to her robe. If it gave a somewhat mixed message as to her loyalties, well… “About behavior and comportment of the noble classes. Are you noble, Mr. Elder? Are you of exalted stature?” she continued.
The Mole Man shook his head. “I--what? Are you making fun of my height?”
Crystal laughed. Unlike Krang’s, it held no malice. “No, Mr. Elder, merely asking a question. Are you a king or a criminal?”
“A King!” Elder puffed out his chest and slammed his staff down.
“Then you would be advised to act like it,” Crystal said. “The arts of diplomacy, negotiation and alliance…what all great nations discuss. Or were you not serious in your petition?”
“I-I…yes. Yes. You have my ear. But I’d best like what I hear.”
“Oh, rest assured, you will.” Crystal glanced at the other two diplomats. Krang nodded, obviously content to follow her lead. The Doombot was harder to figure out, lacking even the limited warmth of the man he was patterned after. “You will indeed.”
All was silence in the street running parallel to the United Nations as Reed Richards stepped out from behind the barricade, a look of determination on his features. In one hand, he clutched a bullhorn which he raised to his lips after he stopped in the middle of the street.
“RUPERT. THIS IS REED RICHARDS. I’D LIKE TO TALK TO YOU.”
“Did you mention to him that this never works in the movies?” Johnny said, sitting on the hood of a police car. “Because it doesn’t.”
“Stretch don’t watch movies,” the Thing said. Grimm crossed his arms and watched his friend’s progress intently.
As Richards’ amplified voice echoed over the area, one of the giant beasts crouched in front of the building turned and fixed dull witted eyes on the tiny figure below. It grunted in a voice like a boiler exploding and repositioned its haunches so that it stooped over Mr. Fantastic. Richards looked up as the shadow fell across him and said simply, “Susan.”
The monster reached a curious claw down, but it was halted by a sudden hardening of the air several meters over Richards’ head. A globe of pure force encircled the leader of the Fantastic Four, thanks to his wife who was leaning demurely against one of the barricades. Sue watched as the monster felt at the globe, emitting confused snorts, until finally it backed away shaking a shaggy head.
“Got your back, dear,” she called out. Reed turned his head and gave a thumbs up and a smile.
“Yeesh. You guys hog all th’ fun, doncha Susie Q?” the Thing said, sighing disgustedly as he leaned beside the Invisible Woman. Holding his chin in his hands, the barricade creaking dangerously under his weight, he eyed the monsters speculatively.
“Don’t get so depressed, Ben. Before this is over I’m sure you’ll get to hit enough giant monsters to get bored with it.”
“You say that now, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Moley ain’t never been so ticked off that Stretch couldn’t talk him down. Just my luck, he’ll probably be gone down some hidey hole before we even get in there.”
“One can only hope,” Sue said. “Oh good lord.” She waved a hand in front of her face as one of the great beasts voided its bowels in the street.
“Man, I knew I shoulda gone wit’ you an’ Franky to th’ zoo. At least the animals there don’t smell as bad as Moley’s,” Ben said, pinching his nose.
The Bronx Zoo
Franklin found himself flying, clutched in the arms of the red-haired woman. She landed in a crouch just inside the tiger enclosure. Franklin felt a moment of panic, but the great cats were paying them little attention.
Instead they, like the woman, were watching the great ape that had landed where Franklin had been standing only moments before. It was a shaggy thing, less gorilla than underdeveloped Neanderthal, and it smelled like the monkey house on a hot summer day.
“Gorgilla,” Franklin said.
“What?” the woman said, shrugging out of her coat to reveal tanned arms and the leather bracers covering them from elbow to wrist.
“That’s Gorgilla!”
“What’s a Gorgilla?”
“That’s a Gorgilla!” Franklin said, pointing. The monster bawled at the gesture, shaking long arms. It shrieked and pounded the ground, sending up a flock of pigeons. The tigers roared in response. “The Monster of Midnight Mountain!”
“What?”
“He’s from Monster Island,” Franklin said, eyeing the nearby tigers with suspicion. “One of the Mole Man’s monsters. I know ‘em all,” he added proudly. “My dad’s spent years trying to catalogue ‘em!”
“Who did you say your father was again?” the woman said, looking at him in apparent bewilderment as she drew a long-bladed knife from a sheath hidden inside her trousers.
“Reed Richards.” Franklin smiled.
The woman blinked. “Holy-” She shook her head. “That’s make you Franklin, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Well, Franklin, I’m Shanna Plunder.” She smiled. “Pleasure to meet you. Wish the circumstances were better.”
Gorgilla bellowed again, and ripped the barrier free of its moorings. With a howl, it hurled it into the enclosure, scattering tigers.
The United Nations
AlphaOne had one foot up on the stage, casually leaning his body forward across an armored knee to get at eye level with the Mole Man. “And so, Latveria would be happy to offer support for your petition as well as military and economic support in times of distress, in return for trade opportunities and the reciprocal support of Monster Island should the need arise.”
The Mole Man sat Indian-style on the stage, his chin in his hand as he listened to the Doombot’s spiel. Then, when the Latverian monarch had finished, he turned to Krang. “And what is your proposal, Krang?” he asked, with ill-disguised eagerness.
Krang snorted. “Atlantis, too, would offer her support, in return for several concessions. We will defend your shores, if you lend us the aid of your under-sea caves and amphibious minions in our bid to correct the current fractured state of the Atlantean Empire. We will, of course, also offer our vast agricultural resources in regard to your food shortage.”
Crystal nodded. “And Genosha, well, Genosha can offer much to its friends,” she said as the Mole-Man looked at her. “While we, as yet, lack the gross resources of either Latveria or Atlantis, we make up for it in one singular resource.”
“Mutants,” Elder said.
Crystal inclined her head. “Mutants, Mr. Elder. Many of whom would see Monster Island as Paradise.”
“Hnh.” The Mole Man sat back, resting against his staff. “I have always left my borders open to the disenfranchised.” He looked at them. “Your offers are almost too good to be true. And yet, I’m puzzled. Of all those here, why have you three stepped forward to take me as seriously as I demanded? Even I am not arrogant enough to believe my pets cowed you as they have these other fools.”
The three representatives traded glances. Crystal knew that AlphaOne was most likely acting in accordance with how Doom himself would have approached the situation--enlightened opportunism. Even now, the Latverian monarch was paying a state visit to her husband, most likely trying to wrangle similar treaties.
And Krang, well, Krang’s reasons were obvious. His opposition to Namor had always been more political than personal. With Namor once more ensconced on the Pearl Throne and once more dedicated to repairing Atlantis’ power base, Krang was as loyal as a man of his ambition could be.
“Though I cannot speak for my fellow Ambassadors, it is precisely because you demanded sovereignty that I am ready to give it to you. There are few things I, or my husband, respect more than a man striving to make his place in this unforgiving world.”
“Agreed. Maximoff speaks eloquently.” AlphaOne placed a comradely gauntlet on the Mole Man’s shoulder. Krang rolled his eyes as the tiny dictator began to sniffle.
“Y-you respect me?”
“How could I not?” AlphaOne gestured regally towards Krang and Crystal. “How could we not?”
“However, android, you neglect to mention that we are not the sum all of the United Nations. We must convince the majority to allow him to join,” Krang spoke up, slapping AlphaOne’s hand away from his face. “Have you thought on that?” he continued, switching his black gaze to Crystal.
“Of course.” Crystal smiled. “As I said, Blackbolt taught me much about diplomacy.”
The situation outside of the UN had deteriorated badly, at least from Reed Richards’ perspective high in the air, inside Susan’s force bubble, held like a baseball by a giant gargoyle-looking beast. The monsters had tried chewing on the bubble. They had tried stepping on it. One even tried sitting on it. Now they were tossing it back and forth. Reed tried valiantly to maintain his balance and his dignity inside the force bubble.
“Susan. A little help, please.”
“Don’t worry brother-in-law, I got it!” the Human Torch laughed, a spew of golf-ball sized fire balls spattering from his hands into the gargoyle’s face. The creature shrieked and lost interest in Reed, batting at the stinging rain hitting its tender flesh.
The other creature involved in the game of catch-the-Reed, the three-headed Tricephalous, grasped wildly at the force bubble, but abruptly lost its balance and fell onto its rear with a confused triple burble.
The Thing gripped one massive ankle in his paws and proceeded to yank the beast all the way onto its back. “And stay down,” he barked, dusting his hands together.
Three heads lunged as one, belching fire onto the Idol of Millions, encasing the Thing in a raging inferno. Hands held in front of his face, Grimm trudged forward through the morass of melting pavement.
“Ben!” Sue shouted. Grimm waved her off, his hand extending out of the cone of flame. Then, with a thunderous clap, he brought his palms together, blowing the fire out.
The Tricephalous grunted, perplexed. The Thing looked up at it, grinning. “Little trick I learned from the Hulk. Neat, right?”
The Tricephalous roared. Grimm charged forward, running up the prone beast’s torso and slamming a fist into the side of one of its heads. That head snapped to the side, striking the center head, which smashed into the third, sending the beast toppling. The Thing raised his fists. “Thirty points!”
Susan gently lowered the force bubble containing her husband to the ground. “It doesn’t look like Harvey is ready to negotiate yet, Reed.” Sue smiled ruefully as Reed handed the megaphone back to a grinning Lt. Stone.
“Have fun playing hackey-sack with the boys out there Richards?” Stone didn’t even try to stifle his mirth. Reed put on a slightly offended expression for a half-moment, before it evolved into an embarrassed smile.
“Can’t say as I did, but you’re more than welcome to see how you like it.”
“Not me. I get airsick.”
“All joking aside, Stone, Sue, I’m afraid we’ll have to take things up a notch. Despite their child-like personalities, those monsters are quite dangerous if the Mole-Man riles them up enough. We need to end this before it goes that far. We need to get in there fast, before-”
The street rumbled. Car alarms, if they hadn’t already been set off, began to blare. The pavement splintered as a giant hand burst through, clawing at the sky.
“Another monster?” Reed said, his body elongating and spreading to protect Stone and several other officers from the barrage of debris. “What in-”
“BY ORDER OF KING HARVEY THE FIRST, I DECLARE WAR ON THE SURFACE WORLD!” a loud voice bellowed. A thickly muscled form dropped off of the shoulder of the furry, orange skinned creature as it shouldered its way free of the street.
Brandishing his sword, Hadopelagic Kalam Elder faced the assembled might of the NYPD, Code: BLUE and the Fantastic Four.
“Who’s first?” he said, grinning.
To Be Continued...
Next Issue: In Fantastic Four #3: It’s all out war as the FF battle Hadal, son of the Mole Man! And can Franklin and Shanna the She-Devil survive the fury of Gorgilla, the Monster of Midnight Mountain? Find out in thirty in “CREATURES ON THE LOOSE!”
Previous Issue | Next Issue
“Yeah, Richards, nobody in or out as far as we’ve seen. Those big skells have even been swatting at the news choppers trying to get pictures,” Lieutenant Stone, commanding officer of Code: BLUE, grunted.
“Know that feelin’,” Ben Grimm, the Thing, grunted. He shifted his weight with the sound of rocks scraping together and looked at Stone. “Heard you got Cage and his outfit on retainer now, Stone.”
“They’re busy,” Stone said, handing Grimm a cigar from the pack he kept shoved behind the neckline of his body armor. “Besides which, this is really more your thing, ain’t it?”
“Everything is my thing,” Grimm said, biting off the end of the cigar and spitting it out. “Goes with the name.”
Before he could accept the light Stone offered, a bubble of force surrounded the cigar and crushed it to ribbons. The Thing watched the remains waft to the ground mournfully.
“Need I remind you that you’re quitting?” Susan Richards said, running a hand through her blonde hair. “New baby in the house, remember?”
“Not mine,” Ben said quickly, looking at Stone.
Stone, for his part, was looking up. Johnny Storm, hovering overhead, his thin form wreathed in cosmic flame, made a face. “Not mine either, Stone.”
“Just checking. Hate to have to update my files.”
“Paranoid much?” Johnny said, dropping lightly to the ground as he snuffed his flame.
Stone sniffed and turned back to Reed. “Just as soon as Majowski gets back with our heavy artillery, I’m taking Code: BLUE in. Unless of course, you’ve got a better idea?”
“Well, generally, in a hostage situation, you negotiate,” Reed said. Ben and Johnny stifled snorts.
Stone ignored them. “We’ve tried,” Stone said. “So far, nothing.”
“Maybe you’re not speaking the right language,” Reed said. “Elder tends to react poorly to aggression. Or even merely what he perceives as aggression.”
“I’ve read the dossier,” Stone said, running a hand over his shaved pate. “I’ve read all the dossiers.”
Reed frowned. “All?”
“Elder isn’t in there alone, Dr. Richards.” Stone looked at him. “The new Atlantean ambassador--”
“Krang,” Reed said. “Yes. That could be a volatile combination.” He rubbed his chin. “But that’s not all, is it?”
“Not even close,” Stone said.
Inside the United Nations, tensions were understandably high. After all, only scant hours ago a monstrosity had burst out of nowhere and torn the roof off of one of the most important buildings in the world. Therefore, the dignitaries gathered can be forgiven their complete and total breakdown into a form of quiet, ill-concealed panic.
Well, except for three of them.
AlphaOne, first and last of the original robotic duplicates of Victor Von Doom and current Latverian ambassador, scowled behind his iron mask as he took in the ranting midget on the podium. The Mole Man. Pathetic…a creature of base appetites and even baser manners. Briefly, he considered simply killing the foolish little beast. A twitch of his gauntlet, and it would be over. Yet, to do so would perhaps be wasteful in the extreme. And AlphOne’s master-how his circuits sparked at that thought-despised waste.
Count Krang of Atlantis, while not so cold-blooded as the Doombot, was thinking much the same thing. He had risen to his feet when the monsters had made their presence known, ready to deal out swift retribution. But something held him back. Pity, perhaps; pity for the mad little man standing at the podium. Pity for a man so out of his depth he couldn’t even see the light. Krang knew that feeling intimately.
Crystal Amaquelin-Maximoff, on the other hand, felt neither pity nor revulsion. Then, she had lived a life filled with enough of both and had little use for either these days. As the representative of her husband’s government in Genosha, she had turned her formidable politesse-schooled to perfection in the Court of Attilan-towards solidifying the country’s place among the nations of the UN.
Now, she saw an opportunity to do just that. Doubtless, her husband would not approve, but then she hadn’t cared about his approval for some time. Pietro trusted her judgment, if nothing else. Standing before the Mole Man, a Doombot on one side and a former Atlantean renegade on the other, she took a brief moment to wonder if he was right to do so.
Then, she forged ahead. “Mr. Elder, do you know who I am?”
“Of course! I’m not an idiot!” the Mole Man hissed, leaning forward over the podium. “But if you’re hoping to appeal to my better nature--”
“Ha!” Krang gave a bark of laughter. The Mole Man glared at him, but Crystal extended a hand between them.
“I intend to do just that, in fact. You are a king, are you not?”
“I--yes,” the Mole Man said, holding himself up a bit straighter. “Yes.”
“My cousin is a king. He taught me many things about royal privilege.” She stepped forward, her robes of state rustling softly. She wore the regalia of Attilan, as was her right, moderated somewhat by the Seal of Magnus pinned to her robe. If it gave a somewhat mixed message as to her loyalties, well… “About behavior and comportment of the noble classes. Are you noble, Mr. Elder? Are you of exalted stature?” she continued.
The Mole Man shook his head. “I--what? Are you making fun of my height?”
Crystal laughed. Unlike Krang’s, it held no malice. “No, Mr. Elder, merely asking a question. Are you a king or a criminal?”
“A King!” Elder puffed out his chest and slammed his staff down.
“Then you would be advised to act like it,” Crystal said. “The arts of diplomacy, negotiation and alliance…what all great nations discuss. Or were you not serious in your petition?”
“I-I…yes. Yes. You have my ear. But I’d best like what I hear.”
“Oh, rest assured, you will.” Crystal glanced at the other two diplomats. Krang nodded, obviously content to follow her lead. The Doombot was harder to figure out, lacking even the limited warmth of the man he was patterned after. “You will indeed.”
All was silence in the street running parallel to the United Nations as Reed Richards stepped out from behind the barricade, a look of determination on his features. In one hand, he clutched a bullhorn which he raised to his lips after he stopped in the middle of the street.
“RUPERT. THIS IS REED RICHARDS. I’D LIKE TO TALK TO YOU.”
“Did you mention to him that this never works in the movies?” Johnny said, sitting on the hood of a police car. “Because it doesn’t.”
“Stretch don’t watch movies,” the Thing said. Grimm crossed his arms and watched his friend’s progress intently.
As Richards’ amplified voice echoed over the area, one of the giant beasts crouched in front of the building turned and fixed dull witted eyes on the tiny figure below. It grunted in a voice like a boiler exploding and repositioned its haunches so that it stooped over Mr. Fantastic. Richards looked up as the shadow fell across him and said simply, “Susan.”
The monster reached a curious claw down, but it was halted by a sudden hardening of the air several meters over Richards’ head. A globe of pure force encircled the leader of the Fantastic Four, thanks to his wife who was leaning demurely against one of the barricades. Sue watched as the monster felt at the globe, emitting confused snorts, until finally it backed away shaking a shaggy head.
“Got your back, dear,” she called out. Reed turned his head and gave a thumbs up and a smile.
“Yeesh. You guys hog all th’ fun, doncha Susie Q?” the Thing said, sighing disgustedly as he leaned beside the Invisible Woman. Holding his chin in his hands, the barricade creaking dangerously under his weight, he eyed the monsters speculatively.
“Don’t get so depressed, Ben. Before this is over I’m sure you’ll get to hit enough giant monsters to get bored with it.”
“You say that now, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Moley ain’t never been so ticked off that Stretch couldn’t talk him down. Just my luck, he’ll probably be gone down some hidey hole before we even get in there.”
“One can only hope,” Sue said. “Oh good lord.” She waved a hand in front of her face as one of the great beasts voided its bowels in the street.
“Man, I knew I shoulda gone wit’ you an’ Franky to th’ zoo. At least the animals there don’t smell as bad as Moley’s,” Ben said, pinching his nose.
The Bronx Zoo
Franklin found himself flying, clutched in the arms of the red-haired woman. She landed in a crouch just inside the tiger enclosure. Franklin felt a moment of panic, but the great cats were paying them little attention.
Instead they, like the woman, were watching the great ape that had landed where Franklin had been standing only moments before. It was a shaggy thing, less gorilla than underdeveloped Neanderthal, and it smelled like the monkey house on a hot summer day.
“Gorgilla,” Franklin said.
“What?” the woman said, shrugging out of her coat to reveal tanned arms and the leather bracers covering them from elbow to wrist.
“That’s Gorgilla!”
“What’s a Gorgilla?”
“That’s a Gorgilla!” Franklin said, pointing. The monster bawled at the gesture, shaking long arms. It shrieked and pounded the ground, sending up a flock of pigeons. The tigers roared in response. “The Monster of Midnight Mountain!”
“What?”
“He’s from Monster Island,” Franklin said, eyeing the nearby tigers with suspicion. “One of the Mole Man’s monsters. I know ‘em all,” he added proudly. “My dad’s spent years trying to catalogue ‘em!”
“Who did you say your father was again?” the woman said, looking at him in apparent bewilderment as she drew a long-bladed knife from a sheath hidden inside her trousers.
“Reed Richards.” Franklin smiled.
The woman blinked. “Holy-” She shook her head. “That’s make you Franklin, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Well, Franklin, I’m Shanna Plunder.” She smiled. “Pleasure to meet you. Wish the circumstances were better.”
Gorgilla bellowed again, and ripped the barrier free of its moorings. With a howl, it hurled it into the enclosure, scattering tigers.
The United Nations
AlphaOne had one foot up on the stage, casually leaning his body forward across an armored knee to get at eye level with the Mole Man. “And so, Latveria would be happy to offer support for your petition as well as military and economic support in times of distress, in return for trade opportunities and the reciprocal support of Monster Island should the need arise.”
The Mole Man sat Indian-style on the stage, his chin in his hand as he listened to the Doombot’s spiel. Then, when the Latverian monarch had finished, he turned to Krang. “And what is your proposal, Krang?” he asked, with ill-disguised eagerness.
Krang snorted. “Atlantis, too, would offer her support, in return for several concessions. We will defend your shores, if you lend us the aid of your under-sea caves and amphibious minions in our bid to correct the current fractured state of the Atlantean Empire. We will, of course, also offer our vast agricultural resources in regard to your food shortage.”
Crystal nodded. “And Genosha, well, Genosha can offer much to its friends,” she said as the Mole-Man looked at her. “While we, as yet, lack the gross resources of either Latveria or Atlantis, we make up for it in one singular resource.”
“Mutants,” Elder said.
Crystal inclined her head. “Mutants, Mr. Elder. Many of whom would see Monster Island as Paradise.”
“Hnh.” The Mole Man sat back, resting against his staff. “I have always left my borders open to the disenfranchised.” He looked at them. “Your offers are almost too good to be true. And yet, I’m puzzled. Of all those here, why have you three stepped forward to take me as seriously as I demanded? Even I am not arrogant enough to believe my pets cowed you as they have these other fools.”
The three representatives traded glances. Crystal knew that AlphaOne was most likely acting in accordance with how Doom himself would have approached the situation--enlightened opportunism. Even now, the Latverian monarch was paying a state visit to her husband, most likely trying to wrangle similar treaties.
And Krang, well, Krang’s reasons were obvious. His opposition to Namor had always been more political than personal. With Namor once more ensconced on the Pearl Throne and once more dedicated to repairing Atlantis’ power base, Krang was as loyal as a man of his ambition could be.
“Though I cannot speak for my fellow Ambassadors, it is precisely because you demanded sovereignty that I am ready to give it to you. There are few things I, or my husband, respect more than a man striving to make his place in this unforgiving world.”
“Agreed. Maximoff speaks eloquently.” AlphaOne placed a comradely gauntlet on the Mole Man’s shoulder. Krang rolled his eyes as the tiny dictator began to sniffle.
“Y-you respect me?”
“How could I not?” AlphaOne gestured regally towards Krang and Crystal. “How could we not?”
“However, android, you neglect to mention that we are not the sum all of the United Nations. We must convince the majority to allow him to join,” Krang spoke up, slapping AlphaOne’s hand away from his face. “Have you thought on that?” he continued, switching his black gaze to Crystal.
“Of course.” Crystal smiled. “As I said, Blackbolt taught me much about diplomacy.”
The situation outside of the UN had deteriorated badly, at least from Reed Richards’ perspective high in the air, inside Susan’s force bubble, held like a baseball by a giant gargoyle-looking beast. The monsters had tried chewing on the bubble. They had tried stepping on it. One even tried sitting on it. Now they were tossing it back and forth. Reed tried valiantly to maintain his balance and his dignity inside the force bubble.
“Susan. A little help, please.”
“Don’t worry brother-in-law, I got it!” the Human Torch laughed, a spew of golf-ball sized fire balls spattering from his hands into the gargoyle’s face. The creature shrieked and lost interest in Reed, batting at the stinging rain hitting its tender flesh.
The other creature involved in the game of catch-the-Reed, the three-headed Tricephalous, grasped wildly at the force bubble, but abruptly lost its balance and fell onto its rear with a confused triple burble.
The Thing gripped one massive ankle in his paws and proceeded to yank the beast all the way onto its back. “And stay down,” he barked, dusting his hands together.
Three heads lunged as one, belching fire onto the Idol of Millions, encasing the Thing in a raging inferno. Hands held in front of his face, Grimm trudged forward through the morass of melting pavement.
“Ben!” Sue shouted. Grimm waved her off, his hand extending out of the cone of flame. Then, with a thunderous clap, he brought his palms together, blowing the fire out.
The Tricephalous grunted, perplexed. The Thing looked up at it, grinning. “Little trick I learned from the Hulk. Neat, right?”
The Tricephalous roared. Grimm charged forward, running up the prone beast’s torso and slamming a fist into the side of one of its heads. That head snapped to the side, striking the center head, which smashed into the third, sending the beast toppling. The Thing raised his fists. “Thirty points!”
Susan gently lowered the force bubble containing her husband to the ground. “It doesn’t look like Harvey is ready to negotiate yet, Reed.” Sue smiled ruefully as Reed handed the megaphone back to a grinning Lt. Stone.
“Have fun playing hackey-sack with the boys out there Richards?” Stone didn’t even try to stifle his mirth. Reed put on a slightly offended expression for a half-moment, before it evolved into an embarrassed smile.
“Can’t say as I did, but you’re more than welcome to see how you like it.”
“Not me. I get airsick.”
“All joking aside, Stone, Sue, I’m afraid we’ll have to take things up a notch. Despite their child-like personalities, those monsters are quite dangerous if the Mole-Man riles them up enough. We need to end this before it goes that far. We need to get in there fast, before-”
The street rumbled. Car alarms, if they hadn’t already been set off, began to blare. The pavement splintered as a giant hand burst through, clawing at the sky.
“Another monster?” Reed said, his body elongating and spreading to protect Stone and several other officers from the barrage of debris. “What in-”
“BY ORDER OF KING HARVEY THE FIRST, I DECLARE WAR ON THE SURFACE WORLD!” a loud voice bellowed. A thickly muscled form dropped off of the shoulder of the furry, orange skinned creature as it shouldered its way free of the street.
Brandishing his sword, Hadopelagic Kalam Elder faced the assembled might of the NYPD, Code: BLUE and the Fantastic Four.
“Who’s first?” he said, grinning.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
To Be Continued...
Next Issue: In Fantastic Four #3: It’s all out war as the FF battle Hadal, son of the Mole Man! And can Franklin and Shanna the She-Devil survive the fury of Gorgilla, the Monster of Midnight Mountain? Find out in thirty in “CREATURES ON THE LOOSE!”
Previous Issue | Next Issue