There is a New Villainess in Town
© 2011 by: Mr. David R. Dorrycott
Chapter Thirteenedited 09/12/2001
Six nights later George Randall was sitting at his home office diligently studying a map of Captain Fluffball’s attacks when a knock came to his back door. Picking up a taser, for only two known super heros were immune to the thing after all and to date no villains that were still free, he walked to his back door only to see an envelope being shoved under the threshold. Stepping to one side of the door he used a foot to pull the envelope towards him. Only when it was clear of the door did he stoop down to pick it up. As he did so he peaked out of a hidden viewport, actually a door peephole mounted low in the wall. His back stoop was empty, so it was a message not an opening to an attack.
Carefully setting his taser on the kitchen table (he used to put it in his belt until the day he accidently fired the thing) he opened the unmarked envelope. It contained a single typewritten note, studying the paper he realized that it really was typewritten. Who, he wondered, used a typewriter in this day and age. At least reading the note answered that question;
Supervisor's office.
Seaview Hospital.
Staten Island.
Two hours.
Leave phone Home.
Captain Fluffball.
“Well” he said to himself. “This certainly is a surprise.” Taking the note and envelope with him (and almost forgetting his taser ) he went back to his home office and map. Once there it took him only minutes to realize that two hours would be a very tight schedule, as to get where he needed the ferry was a no-go. It didn’t dock close enough to his destination but thankfully he was on good terms with several fishermen and sports boaters. So less that ten minutes after the note had arrived he was driving down the road, at the same time starting to make calls looking for a ride using his car phone.
Fulffball herself was only ten minutes ahead of her quarry. Though she had already scouted her chosen location and set a temporary sensor screen and traps, just getting there would be an adventure in itself seeing as the wind was picking up. That would make for rough waters and the feline was anything but a professional sailor. Still the twenty-four footer that she had rented, all through the internet and a third, then fourth party, had been getting her back and forth these last days with ease. Even with her advantages she had hardly settled down in the Supervisors office when she heard footsteps over her little spy network.
Gradually the reporter George Randall made his way to the expected meeting. He was a bit late as the wind had slowed his borrowed boat but not so much that someone who had set up such a meeting would not forgive him. Finding the location had proven easier than he had expected, as when he stepped into the buildings foyer he had found a small, battery powered lamp with a map under it. On the map was written ‘If the lamp is out, so am I.’ Thankfully the lamp was still burning brightly when he arrived. Following the map he made his way down long abandoned hallways until he saw it, a half open door with SUPERVISORS OFFICE carefully printed on the glass and a light behind it. Pushing open the door he stepped in.
Rebecca almost laughed as Randall entered the room. His suit, normally impeccable, was soaked and his hair was a mess. “You look like something the cat dragged in Randall” she said in greeting. “Have a seat, lets talk.”
“Off the record?” George asked, taking out a comb to realign his hair. “And you’re the cat that dragged me in here you know.”
“I guess I am” the feline admitted. “Everything is on the record, you can use the camera set up over there, it’s a low light style so you should get a good image if I don’t move too much. You can keep its memory card but I took a chance getting that camera and tripod, so please don’t feel too bad of me for wanting to keep it.”
Walking over to the camera George discovered that it was a top of the line model, one that he had drooled over for months. On a rough table beside it was the instruction manual but for him, having already played with a demo model in the store it was an easy matter to set up and start recording. Checking its battery he noted it almost full and the memory said ninety minutes remaining so he pointed it directly at the feline, then when he was certain everything was running correctly walked to the only other chair and sat down.
“So, why are we meeting like this and why did I have to leave my phone at the house?” he asked.
“Last first, first last Randall. Your phones bugged, Professor Q’s tracking your GPS and apparently has been for years. Second, I was watching the news when you said that you wanted an interview, I was bored so I thought I’d grant one. On my terms. That being I’m close enough to my secret lair to get away safely, but far enough that it can’t be found easily.”
“Secret lair?” the reported asked, a lopsided grin on his face.
Giggling like a little school girl Rebecca lifted her hands palm up. “Isn’t that how villains talk? It’s my base, my home, where I am repairing my spacecraft and thank you so very much for that missile up my butt. Like you Randall, I’ve got a job to do. That being discovering everything that I can about your civilization before it is gone forever.”
“So you are an alien” George gasped.
“Do I look like a monkey to you? Yes, I am an alien, or more correctly you are a race of aliens to me. Fairly intelligent yes, and as that missile proved awfully more advanced than my briefing led me to believe. I was expecting steam locomotives for Geeshes sake. Not thousand mile an hour manned interceptor craft armed with intelligent missiles, still your hundreds of years behind us, which is what probably saved my life.”
“You were attacked? By who, and where?” George asked as he took out his notepad and pencil, beginning to write..
“Somewhere over what you call Siberia and I’m not saying when. Doing that would tell you too much about my technology if I did. Now, what would you like to know that I can answer Mr. Randall.”
“Okay, questions. Lets start with why are you humiliating our heros.”
“Because I can?” Rebecca giggled again. “Because its fun and they are awfully inept. Take Professor Q for example, I thought your laws made bugging someone without their permission illegal.”
“It is and I will be filing a criminal complaint in the morning. What about your weapons, they seem awfully weak to me.”
“I wasn’t expecting your level of technology Mr. Randall. I do have more powerful weapons but why use them if I don’t have to. Tell me, if there is a roach on your kitchen floor do you reach for a rolled up newspaper or a shotgun first? So far what I have been using is a rolled up newspaper, and using it has been perfectly acceptable to my needs.”
“I see, actually that does make sense Captain Fluffball. And that is another thing, your name.”
“Seriously? Fluffball is what my family name translates to in your language and Captain is my legal rank. That my name is considered funny in your world, I guess that’s just the way it is. Besides, it is awfully late for me to change it to Captain Nemesis isn’t it?”
“Yes, I guess so. So, are you really here as a prelude to an invasion?”
Rebecca smiled for a moment, then looked directly at the camera. “Trust me humans, if my race were the conquering kind we would just drop big rocks on your planet from deep space. A few years of that and your civilization, your entire race would be a fond memory. There are races out there like that and I personally have seen the results of their work but we really don’t want planets anymore. We have found that they are much too easy to destroy by an aggressor race.” She looked back to George Randall, “That doesn’t mean that we are not dangerous Mr. Randall, it just means that we take what we need from asteroids, planetoids and the occasional trade mission.”
George looked at the notes he was making, then back at the feline sitting only a half dozen paces away from him. He was close enough to be certain that she wasn’t wearing a costume, close enough to smell the cinnamon scent her body gave off. “Are you here to trade Captain Fluffball?”
“No” Rebecca answered bluntly.
“Oh, well.. Anyone special waiting for you out there?” he continued.
“Not anymore Mr. Randall, she died in a hull breach. It is a very bad way to go, being blown out into deep space with no protection other than your duty uniform. First your blood boils, then your eyes both explode and freeze. The pain is horrifying as you feel your body expand, your flesh split, your brains start being extruded through the natural holes in your skull. Very horrifying Mr. Randall, I wouldn’t wish such a death on my worst enemy, certainly not my beloved wife Sherrana. That was over four of your years ago, now lets talk about something a little less personal.”
“Sorry. What about your uniform, it’s a dead ringer for one of an Imperial Officers uniform from Star Wars, even to the shade of green. Was that an accident or what?”
“It was what Mr. Randall” Rebecca answered with a grin. “When you have years to prepare for your mission you tend to wander across interesting things. I really liked this uniform so I chose it.’
So the interview went until the camera clicked to notify the two that it’s memory stick was full. Rebecca motioned to the camera. “Times up Mr. Randall, do take the memory stick and I hope you will find enough sound bites on it to make me the evil madwoman you want me to be.”
Standing up George Randall discovered that he was stiff, yet the feline seemed still quite at ease. “One last question Captain Fluffball, off the record if you please and I think a bit personal.”
“That being” Rebecca asked, alert to the possibility that her careful script had been seen through already.
“Will you be taking a human as a lover?”
That caught Rebecca completely off guard. For several minutes she simply sat and thought, time in which the reporter shut down her camera then removed its memory and dropped it into a shirt pocket. Finally she came to an answer.
“I’m still not over Sherrana” she said in explanation. “And there are a lot of other things to take into consideration Mr. Randall, things you should think of yourself before you marry. I have now, and will always have enemies. Some like Razor would be happy to leave anyone I loved laying on my doorstep, gutted alive. Even if I did stumble over a woman who could accept me for what I am, an alien and non-human and whom I could accept as well. Do I have to right to put her in the line of fire? Do I have the right to endanger her life? I’ve already lost the love of my life Mr. Randall, I don’t think that I would remain sane if I lost another. Now good night, we both have long, and dangerous voyages ahead of us.”
“Thank you Captain” the reporter answered. “Good voyage to you and for the record, I don’t think that you are a villain. Just a woman with a really wicked sense of humor.”
Watching the reporter leave Rebecca wondered how well her carefully scripted act would go over. She had spent almost a year going over it with Pat and her husband until it seemed seamless. Would they believe that she was from another world? Certainly this island was going to be covered by all kinds of researchers by morning. Right now though all she wanted to do was get home and get some sleep, but there was still that trap for Night to set up. Couldn’t let her get away untouched, someone might suspect that her home was within Nights patrol area if she did. Patterns, she had to be certain not to leave any patterns even by omission. That was how the villain was always captured.
Patterns.