Previously: After getting bounced around space, time and reality, the Doom Patrol have all come back to Danny the street.
They are tired, disorganized and many of them are struggling to figure out what happens next.
**********
Having few emotional ties to anyone in the Doom Patrol or currently living on the sentient street that is their current headquarters, left Monsieur Mallah, the team’s resident intelligent, gun-toting gorilla, at loose ends and with a bit of free time.
He decided to use his time in the activities that helped to cheer him up, or at least distract him: drinking coffee, cleaning his guns and plotting his revenge on the Doom Patrol when he was eventually reunited with his mentor, partner in crime and best friend, the Brain.
He sat at one of the little tables in front of Caffeine Deim, as his collection of weapons tended to upset the other patrons of the coffee shop.
“Hey, Mallah!”
Jogging up was a thin, young man, clad all in white: bodysuit, jacket, pouched belt, goggles, gloves and boots.
Even his spiked hair was white.
Papercut was a one-time d-list super villain, who had seen the error of his ways, after a short prison sentence, and was now attempting to be more heroic.
He wasn’t so much the Doom Patrol’s newest member, as their annoying younger brother that tagged along.
“Hey, Can you…uh… help me with something?” Papercut asked, hesitantly. “The rest of the Patrol is all scattered and…busy…Flex is around, but he’s busy with the kids…not sure where Robot man wandered off to…he might be hanging out with Mr. Caulder…”
“Did any of that babbling contain a question?” Mallah grumbled, not looking up from his gun maintenance.
“What? Oh, yeah, right, sorry. I was doing a bit of a patrol, after we all, y’know, got back. With all the recent craziness, Danny wanted a head count…”
“I will shoot you, if you don’t reach the point in the next three seconds,” Mallah said, picking up a pistol and chambering a bullet, as he looked up at the young super villain.
“You know those families that came with us, from when we were in China? Well, a couple kids wandered off, and I need someone to help me look for them,” Papercut said, quickly, his hands up, in a placating gesture.
“You want me to tromp through the woods, looking for lost children?” Mallah asked. “With you…?”
There was an awkward moment, as the two looked at each other.
Papercut had no idea what to say next, so just stood, uncomfortably, waiting for Mallah to speak first, and hopefully, not shot him.
“Well, I’ve nothing better to do,” he grunted, holstering his guns and gulping down his coffee. “Lead on.”
Not wanting to push his luck, Papercut just nodded and started walking to the end of the street.
The pavement ended and a dirt path snaked away from Danny the street and into a foreboding looking expanse of forest. The trees were densely packed together and strewn with vines and creepers. The air felt moist and heavy.
“Phew…!” Papercut muttered, wiping the back of a gloved hand across his forehead. “We back in New Orleans? This humidity is killer.”
Mallah merely hmphed and began pushing his way through the underbrush and down the narrow path, followed by his slightly anxious teammate.
Within a couple yards, the wall of foliage rendered them out of sight from Danny the street.
“Okay, this is creepy,” Papercut muttered, pushing a branch out of the way. ‘I can see how those kids got lost. Can’t even see Danny, and we’re like…uh…ten feet away. Even the sound is muffled.
“It’s trees and dirt,” Mallah told him. “You aren’t lost in the Amazon rain forest. I hear running water, over there…river or a stream.”
“Good place to look. Kids like playing in the water.”
“Is your parenting advice any more reliable than your view of heroics?” Mallah asked, peering ahead.
“I have nephews.” Papercut grumbled. “We aren’t hunting bad guys. They’re just kids! We don’t want to scare them. Just…pretend you want to help, okay?”
The duo glared at each other and pushed their way through the undergrowth, until they reached the stream.
The bank was steep and muddy, and it was easy to make out the small footprints.
“There, they went that way,” Mallah gestured, holstering his gun. “If you need me, I’ll be doing the crosswords puzzle.”
“What? You’re just going to bail on me? Leave me in the woods? What is wrong with you?” Papercut exclaimed.
“I have more important things to do with my time, then pretend to be a superhero,” Mallah sneered, turning to push his way back to the path.
“Right, you’ve got a lot of sulking to do.” Papercut muttered, absently, as he glanced around, trying to find the best way down to the stream.
“Don’t.” Mallah growled, his voice going dangerously quiet.
“Why?” Papercut snapped back. “What’ll you do? Be a jerk and threaten me? That’ll make a change! So tired of your crap. Just because you got dumped…”
Mallah clamped a large hand on Papercut’s skinny shoulder and spun him around. The only thing that kept the villain from stumbling down the bank was Mallah grabbing ahold of the front of his shirt. The ape drew back his other fist, anger blazing from his face.
Papercut, in spite of the knowledge that he was about to get the crap beaten out of him, glared back defiantly.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” he said. “All this crap! All this being a jerk! You’re not a scheming super villain…you’re a thirteen-year-old girl who got ghosted by her best friend!”
He lunged forward and shoved Mallah. In terms of strength, Papercut was outclassed, but his outburst caught the gorilla by surprise, and he stumbled back, tripped over an exposed root and landed on the ground with a breaking of branches and a heavy thud...
“I have worked my butt off, to help and do the right thing,” Papercut ranted, standing over Mallah. “Meanwhile, the guy who has tried to kill them, the Doom Patrol are tripping over themselves, offering to help! But you are so caught up in your angst…!”
He exhaled loudly, then just threw up his hands and walked away.
“Never mind, just go,” he muttered. “You’ve got important sulking to do, and this job will be easier if I’m not worried about getting shot.”
He shook his head and started to slowly, overly-cautiously make his way along the muddy bank.
“You want to go the other way,” Mallah said, quietly, as he got to his feet.
“What?” Papercut asked, unsure where the conversation was going now.
“The footprints go downstream and you can make out a path, where the stream bends.
“Great. Thanks,” Papercut muttered, easing past the gorilla.
He stopped, realizing Mallah was following along behind him.
“What?” he asked, his unease over getting beaten up, being overrun by his confusion over the gorilla’s change of heart.
“Shut up and just let me help,” Mallah muttered, sullenly.
The duo tramped along, following the stream through the woods. In several places, the underbrush overran the narrow embankment. Luckily, the stream was shallow, as Papercut had to wade several times. Mallah merely swung up into the trees and climbed until there was a clear path again.
Once around the bend in the stream, there was small clearing.
There was more evidence that the children had been there. Along with more footprints there was a scrawled tic-tac-toe game in the dirt and what looked like a small house made out of sticks.
“Okay, they’ve been here,” Papercut nodded, reaching into his pockets. He came out with a handful of small, origami birds. “Do your stuff guys.”
He threw them up into the air, and they immediately flew off in a half dozen different directions.
“I can see a building of some sort,” Mallah said, from up in the trees. “We should probably head that way.”
“Okay. My flock will find me if they spot the kids.”
One on the ground, one in the trees, the duo headed for the building.
“Wonder if anyone has noticed we’re gone?” Papercut muttered.
**********
Interlude: Steve Dayton and Mento:
Rita gave Mento a light kiss on the cheek, before standing up and making her way down the row of seats.
Once more alone in the movie theater, the master of mental might, focused his gaze at the large, blank, white screen. This allowed him to focus all the power of his helmet out into the infinite beyond.
While his vast mental energies were scanning the multi-verse, watching for a threat only he seemed aware was approaching the Earth, a tiny ember of thought remained separate, lingering on the recently departed Rita.
That single drop, in an ocean of thought, slowly rubbed against its neighbors, creating a cascade of emotions, memories, of Rita and their life together.
Slowly, Mento’s hands moved from the arms of his chair and gripped the sides of his purple helmet.
Trembling with the effort, Mento lifted the helmet from his head and tossed it away. It landed a couple seats down the row.
“Finally!” Steve Dayton exclaimed. “Thought you could contain me, did you?”
He glared at the discarded helmet.
“I made you! It was my planning, work, genius and money that made Mento! And you turn around and try and cage me, usurp me, so you can pull this weird, little attention-getting stunt and lure Rita, my wife away from me. That is not happening. I will fight you!”
He glared at the helmet, peering into the empty eyeholes of the built-in mask, challengingly. This lasted for several moments, as though the disgruntled billionaire expected the strange headgear to respond.
He then looked away, glancing around at the empty theater.
“I can give Rita a life, a family and a home that’s more than this…madhouse!” he muttered. “Why she would choose them, over me…?”
So absorbed in his own grievances, Steve Dayton failed to notice, when a pair of hands reached out and picked up the Mento helmet.
He was still in mid-grumble, when the purple helmet was jammed back down upon his head.
“No…what…I…!” Mento exclaimed, gripping the arms of his chair, while his body shook. His body went ridged and then he returned to staring intently at the blank, white movie screen.
“Enough of that, Mr. Dayton. Once things have settled down, you and your alter ego can sort out your issues. Until then, the world needs Mento, not yet another self-aggrandizing billionaire.”
If Mento had turned his head, to catch a glimpse of the voice’s owner, he would have seen Nobody there.
Nor did he notice that Nobody had made off with his popcorn.
**********
Back in the woods, Papercut and Mallah pushed their way through the brush and tree limbs to a larger clearing.
It was a field, that at one time had been trimmed down, but which the forest was in the process of reclaiming. The grass was knee-high and the few trees and brushes were small but grew wild.
The house was a grey hulk, slowly collapsing in on itself. It sported a sagging porch, of its half dozen windows, only two were unbroken and a particularly ambitious vine had grown up one wall.
“Yep, that place is definitely either haunted or home to a serial killer,” Papercut muttered, shading his eyes with a gloved hand while he peered about. “Weird. What’s with those statues…?”
There was a half dozen statues, scattered about the side yard of the old house.
“An abandoned artist retreat?” Mallah shrugged. “You’re the child expert, where would they hide?”
“Probably the creepy statues,” Papercut, reluctantly agreed.
He let loose another handful of paper birds and a few tiny, origami horses, to scout the yard and house, as he and Mallah walked over to the statues.
“Okay, this is weird.” Papercut said, hands on hips as he studied the scattered artwork.
There was a half dozen statues of people, all done in metal or stone.: two children, a man in hunting gear, two construction workers and a woman in a professional skirt and blazer ensemble. They all seemed to be in poses where they were moving away from something and all of them had expressions of anxiety, if not outright fear.
Scattered about were smaller statues, several dogs, a few squirrels and racoons and several crows.
“Yeah, pretty sure Danny was running this horror movie in the theater last week,” Papercut muttered, backing away from the statues and glancing about nervously. “We need to find those kids, get the hell outta here and come back with the Patrol…!”
Mallah didn’t dispute his teammate’s argument, merely slid his guns out of their holsters and scanned his surroundings, never fully turning his back on the old house
“Gather up your little minions,” Mallah instructed, quietly. “Search the yard. I’ll check the house.”
Papercut waded through the tall grass, giving the creepy statues a wide berth, as he headed for the dense underbrush surrounding the yard.
Concentrating, he soon had a flock of paper birds fluttering around him.
Several pecked him on the shoulder, to get his attention, and then flew towards a large shrub.
At one time, it had been trimmed and cared for, but now was an overgrown mass.
The birds landed on the ground, their tiny beaks pointing to an opening.
Papercut kneeled down and peered into the tangled, shadowy depths of the bush.
Two young Chinese children, a boy and a girl, were huddled together, looking back at him with dirt-smeared, fearful faces.
“Hey guys,” he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “It’s okay. We’re gonna take you back to your folks. How about you come with me…?”
Their reply was a fast, anxious babble.
“Right. You don’t speak English, and I failed high school Spanish.” Papercut muttered. “Gonna be tricky.”
He reached out a gloved hand.
“Just come on out,” Papercut said, keeping his tone even and friendly. “I know I look weird, but I’m gonna help. You’ll be okay.”
His reassuring speech was drowned out by the sound of gunfire.
“Great.” He muttered, leaping to his feet.
**********
Mallah made his way across the overgrown yard. Despite his size, he moved quite quietly, hardly rustling the grass.
The porch took up the front of the house, a sprawling mass of sagging, moss-encrusted grey wood. Mallah paused at the bottom step, holstered one gun and knelt. Laying on its side was one of Papercuts’ tiny birds.
Except this one was made of stone.
“Interesting,” The gorilla muttered, thoughtfully. “And worrying.”
Mallah picked it up, rubbing his large fingers over the birds’ stony surface. He then frowned and tucked it into one of the pouches on his gun belt.
Stepping up, Mallah glanced around the porch. He couldn’t see into the house, as the windows were either coated with dust and grime and covered with rough, makeshift curtains.
There was a path, from the steps to the front door, but otherwise, the porch was littered with trash: broken furniture, a large pile of rags and discarded clothes and other assorted refuse.
He’d made the obvious deduction that something or someone had turned the people and animals into statues and the obvious place to look was the house, but not knowing what he was looking for made it difficult to know how to precede.
Then the pile of rags stood up.
It appeared to be a man, underneath the knee-length blur tunic and green pointed hood. His face, already in the shadow of the hood, was further obscured by either a domino mask, or possibly just a wide smear of dirt across the bridge of his nose.
“Alchemy…!” Mallah grumbled.
“Doctor, if you please,” The shabby super villain replied, coldly. “Which one are you? Not Grodd, he’s taller…wait, it’s the Brain’s pet…Mallah, isn’t it?”
“Watch yourself, you little jumped-up wizard…!” Mallah snarled, his grip tightening on his pistol.
“No one appreciates what I am doing,” Alchemy muttered, sullenly, sinking deeper into his hood as he glared at the rickety floor. “This is not Harry Potter, what I do is science! I am unlocking the secrets that exist within the very building blocks of the elements! But I can’t do that with narrow-minded dolts stomping through my yard and interrupting me!”
Both ape and man raised their hands, brandishing weapons at each other.
Mallah had his guns, while Doctor Alchemy held a rock.
It was oblong, roughly the same size and shape as a sub roll. It was worn smooth, and despite its dull brown color, seemed to pulse with an inner energy.
“I do not have time to join your clandestine cabal, for whatever petty revenge schemes you and your…mentor have in mind. Can no one understand that?”
“We didn’t come here looking for you,” Mallah snarled in reply. “No one is looking to recruit you! No one cares! I’m only here on some foolish errand that has nothing to do with you. If you’d stop turning everyone who strolls by into statuary, you could toil in obscurity to your hearts’ content.”
The gorilla flipped off the safety on his guns.
“Let me be on my way, and you can go back to spinning straw into gold,” he advised.
Alchemy’s stone glowed, as did the gun in Mallah’s left hand. The gorilla let go of it seconds before it was transformed into glass. It shattered when it hit the porch floor.
Mallah fired his other pistol as he leapt backwards, landing on the porch railing. It was rickety, so he clutched it tightly with his prehensile toes, as he fired at Doctor Alchemy.
The hooded rogue protected himself by throwing up bits of trash from the porch and then transforming them into a more bullet proof substance, such as stone or steel.
Mallah leapt to the ground, ducking below the railing, as he reloaded. That was where Papercut found him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Mallah grabbed Papercut by the back of his jacket and lifted him up, so he could see in between the crooked railings.
“Holy crap! That’s Doctor Alchemy!” he exclaimed, before Mallah yanked him back down.
A blast from the philosopher’s stone, turned the railing to mud.
“Did you find the children?” Mallah asked, firing off a few quick shots before grabbing Papercut and dodging back around the corner of the house.
“Yeah, they’re other there, at the far end of the yard.”
“Get them and get back to Danny.” Mallah instructed. “Get help. I’ll keep Alchemy busy.”
“What? Are you crazy…?” Papercut protested.
“Most likely.” Mallah shrugged, checking his guns. “Alchemy is deranged. Much as I’d like to, we can’t just leave and hope the Justice League stumble across this before he turns half the population of the state into lawn ornaments. Go, make yourself useful!”
Mallah leapt back up onto the porch, guns blazing.
Papercut stood, his back against the aging wood of the house.
“Would it be so bad if I let him get turned to stone…?” he mused, indecisively. “Damnit, if I’m gonna do something stupid, why couldn’t it be rescuing somebody I actually like?”
Taking a deep breath, the skinny super-villain raced around the corner of the building, reaching into his belt pouches, as he ran along the porch.
Doctor Alchemy was so focused on the heavily armed gorilla shooting at him, that Papercut easily reached the porch steps.
“Hey, Dumbledore!” Papercut shouted, hurling a handful of paper snowflakes at the hooded villain.
They swooped and swirled around Doctor Alchemy.
The rogue swung his stone about, zapping wildly at the mini blizzard. The paper snowflakes were sharp edged, nicking any exposed skin. They were unable to cut through the rough cloth of his tunic and hood.
Soon, the porch and front of the old, decrepit house was a strange patchwork of various elements: glass, wood, paper, stone and steel.
It was littered with numerous tiny birds, animals and snowflakes, also transmuted from paper to stone or metal.
Papercut frantically searched his belt pouches and pockets for more, but was quickly running out of paper constructs to send against the crazed villain.
Mallah fired off a few more shots, winging Doctor Alchemy in the shoulder, right before a stray blast of elemental energy turned his gun to wood.
The two villains froze, eying each other anxiously.
“Just throw it at him, you idiot!” Papercut shouted.
Mallah shrugged and took his teammate’s advice. The wooden firearm caught Alchemy in the solar plexus, and he dropped to his knees.
Mallah leapt over the rickety railing. Landing in the grass, grabbed Papercut by the back of his jacket, threw him over his shoulder and ran across the yard, using his free arm, as well as his legs, to propel him along.
He dove into the surrounding foliage, dropped Papercut to the ground and then crouched down among the bushes and tall grass, intently watching the house.
“We need to stop him,” He muttered, darkly. “He’s an idiot, but a dangerous one.”
He rummaged through his gun belt and bandoliers, frowning.
“A handful of bullets, but he transmuted both my guns…!”
“I might have an idea,” Papercut said, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Not sure how well it’ll work…?”
“Will it stop Alchemy?” Mallah asked, scowling.
“I…uh…yeah, I think so.” Papercut said, alternating between nodding and shrugging.
“Then, what are you waiting for?”
**********
Doctor Alchemy came limping down the front steps, his philosopher’s stone held out, his expression dark.
“I will turn that monkey into porridge…!” he said, through gritted teeth. “When I find him…!”
He didn’t have very far to look, as the monkey in question came bursting out of the trees, beating his broad chest and roaring.
Momentarily startled, the rogue’s aim was unsteady and Mallah easily dodged the first blasts and then took up running in a zig zag pattern to avoid being turned into a statue.
Unfortunately, Mallah zigged, when he should have zagged, and the beret was blasted off his head. It scorched his hair, and the beret, now turned to rubber, bounced across the unkempt law.
“Philistine!” Mallah growled. “Che Guevara gave me that, when I beat him at chess!”
Enraged, he picked up the small, metal statue of a racoon and hurled it at Doctor Alchemy.
The next blast turned the tall grass around the ape to stone, and Mallah stumbled and fell, sprawling, to the ground.
He struggled to get to his feet, only to find Doctor Alchemy standing over him, smiling cruelly.
“While I generally detest interruptions to my research,” he said, raising the philosopher’s stone. “This has been an amusing little chase.”
“Idiot…!” Mallah growled.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Suddenly, a tree came lurching down, striking the crazed villain to the ground, like an enormous flyswatter.
“What…?” Alchemy muttered, weakly, peering upwards.
Then the second tree swung down, smashing him into the ground and into unconsciousness.
Mallah climbed to his feet, wincing slightly. He picked up his transmuted beret, frowned at it sadly and then tossed it away. His frowned deepened, as he watched it bounce across the yard.
Papercut came staggering out of the woods. He was dabbing at a nosebleed with the back of his gloved hand.
“See. Told you it would work,” he said. “Paper is made from trees. Wouldn’t want to do it as a regular thing…my head is pounding…! What now?”
Mallah grunted noncommittedly, then kicked the philosopher’s stone away from the hooded villain.
“Let’s get the children back to Danny,” he said. “Then we can call that woman on Oolong Island to deal with Alchemy.”
“Yeah, I’m okay with that.” Papercut nodded.
**********
Meanwhile, the makeshift lineup of the Doom Patrol was standing at the edge of Danny the street, looking at the surrounding woods with various levels of questioning, anxiety and concern.
“So, that guy in white and the gorilla went looking for a couple of lost kids…?” Robert Crane, the team’s current Robot man asked. His face was a metal plate, so it did not match the skepticism of his tone. “Why would they need our help?”
“You haven’t been hanging out with us that long,” Larry Trainor replied. “We’re the Doom Patrol. Going out to get the mail can end up involving an alien invasion and three super villains.”
“It doesn’t matter if we are saving the world or getting a cat out of a tree,” Rita told them. “It’s about us, acting like the Doom Patrol.”
“Um…yes, about that…?” Mister Caulder, the version of the Chief that turned out to run an appliance repair store, said, anxiously. “I don’t think I can…uh…can do this this. It’s a bit much…!”
“You okay?” Larry asked.
The bearded man shook his head, keeping his gaze down.
“Part of the reason I don’t leave my shop,” Mister Caulder explained, haltingly. “Is because I suffer from some…anxiety. I’m not…comfortable…out...in the world. I thought I could, but…maybe in a city, but not the woods. I’m sorry.”
Rita stretched her arm and patted the older man on the shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she said. “We all have worries and problems. You need to do what’s right for you.”
Caulder kept his eyes down, but nodded.
He slid the battered knapsack off his shoulder and held it out.
“I found a cache of gadgets, from your Chief,” The bearded fixit man explained. “I managed to get a couple working…they might help.”
He held the bag towards Robot man.
“There’s a…um…scanner, sort of thing…it’ll find any odd energy signals.”
The metal man nodded and rummaged in the bag, pulling out an item that looked like a clunky flashlight, with a blue bulb and numerous extra wires.
“You should use it, as I’m not sure how…uh…safe it is.”
“I suppose I am the sturdiest one,” Robot man said.
“Okay, go back to your shop,” Larry said. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Thank you.” He said, looking up and giving the others a brief smile, before turning and walking away.
Larry sighed, shrugged and then started down the path.
Rita quickly joined him, while Robot Man walked slowly behind, studying the bag of gadgets.
“We’re off to a great start,” The bandaged-wrapped hero muttered. “Our new Chief forgot to mention he’s agoraphobic…!”
“I admit, it’s not a great start,” Rita shrugged. “But, at the same time, I wasn’t expecting we’d end up saving the Justice League our first time out. Don’t be a grump.”
She gave him a stern look and Larry nodded.
“Okay. So, what about the man of steel?” He asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the third member of the group.
“He’s going through everything Cliff did, while having missed seventy years of history,” Rita said. “Try and be more supportive and helpful than you’ve been to Mallah.”
“Hey, now, I’m not…!” Larry began to protest.
“I can hear you, you know.” Robot man said, not looking up from the makeshift scanner.
The other two heroes stopped and turned to face Robot man. He just walked past, soon leaving them behind.
“I do appreciate your concern.”
“Great,” Larry grumbled. “Any other problems going to pop up while we go for this walk in the woods…?”
“Sure,” Rita said. “Your turn.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Back at the fixit shop, you said something about the Negative man*,” she said.
(* last issue- Trav)
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” Larry shrugged. “Nothing I can put my finger on. Just little things…Negative man and I have never had a great relationship. Way back when, he just did what he was told. After I died, he started to act up…maybe there’s a piece of me in there or maybe he just started thinking for himself…? Anyway, since the most recent time I stopped being dead, he’s been acting…weird. Feel like he’s trying to…tell me something or do something…I don’t know…I need to figure things out.”
They walked along in silence for several moments.
“Okay,” Rita nodded. “You need help, let me know. Until then, stop being such a grouch.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Hate to interrupt,” Robot man said. “But the lights on this are blinking. Is that bad?”
The other two stood on either said of the metal man, studying the makeshift scanner.
“Looks like it’s picking up an energy signal…?” Larry said. “Coming…that way…!”
Robot man holding out the scanner, walked down a narrow path.
Rita and Larry followed, single file.
“All right,” Robot man said. “The orange light is blinking, and this monitor indicates…direction and intensity of the signal…so, if I push this…!”
Suddenly, a blue crackle of energy shot from the scanner, creating a swirling circle in the air, ten feet in front of the trio.
“That can’t be good…!” Larry muttered.
From out of the swirling disk a hand shot out and grabbed Robot man. A hand, as blue as the energy around it, and of such a size as made the steel hero look like an action figure.
“What the…?” Rita exclaimed, stumbling backwards a few steps, her legs growing with each step. By the time she bumped into Larry, she was nine feet tall.
Robot man struggled to break the giant’s grip. The crackling of other-dimensional energy mingled with the grinding of motor-servos, as he attempted to break free.
“We gotta help him!” Larry shouted, lunging past Rita. He grabbed the enormous blue thumb and was immediately enveloped in arcs of blue energy.
His body arched and as he was flung backwards, Negative man was flung out of his body.
Larry stumbled backwards and collapsed on the ground. The Negative man tumbled through the air, crashing through trees.
Oh my gosh…!” Rita breathed, wide-eyed. “Um…okay.”
“I …uhh…could use…some…hnnn…help!” Robot man grunted, struggling to be heard over the sound of crumpling metal.
Rita shot up to fifty feet tall and lunged forward. Even at his maximum height, her hands were still smaller than the blue one that was squeezing her teammate.
She could feel a tingle, even though her gloves, as she grabbed the massive hand. Using both hands, her arms trembling with the effort, Elastic Girl pulled the gigantic blue fingers apart, and Robot man fell to the ground.
The giant hand flailed around, not finding the metal man, but settling for clamping onto Rita’s wrist.
“No…let go!” She protested, punching the wrist with her free hand.
Negative man returned to Larry’s body, and the bandaged-wrapped hero, climbed, painfully, to his feet, hobbling quickly over to help his teammate.
He promptly tripped, falling to the ground, with a crunching sound.
“Ow…!” He grimaced, trying to sit up. He reached beneath him, and pulled out the scanner device, that Robot man had dropped. The lights on it flickered and it began to spark. “Not sure if we broke this or Niles just doesn’t know what he’s doing…?”
“You might want to put that down and help, Miss Farr!” Robot man shouted. He was struggling to get to his feet, as one of his steel knees had been crushed and part of his leg melted by the giant hand.
“Yeah, I vote for that idea too!” Rita said, as she was being slowly dragged toward the glowing rift.
Larry Trainor stumbled to his feet and lunged toward his over-sized teammate.
“Rita, shrink!” He shouted, as he struck the blue hand with the only weapon available, the makeshift scanner.
There was a flash of multicolored energy, followed by a silent shockwave that sent all three heroes flying backwards.
“Owww…!” Larry muttered, crawling out of the bush he’d landed in. He stood up and brushed dirt and leaves off his uniform. He held the smoldering stub, that was all that remained of the scanner. He then hobbled over to where Robot man lay sprawled. One leg was bent and crumpled, and his right arm looked to have been dislocated, and hung limply.
The metal man was struggling to sit up, his eyes flickering and his speech sounding like a radio station with bad reception.
“You okay?” Larry asked, trying to help his new teammate. “Damn, you’re heavier than you look! Okay, do I bang you on the side of the head to make the speaker work? Did you just speak in French…?”
“ZZZtttt…I…hnn…I’ll be...just…feel woozy. No internal system damage. It looks bad, but an hour or two with some Sodder and a hammer…where is Miss Farr?”
“Oh my god!” Larry exclaimed, looking around frantically. “Rita!”
Suddenly an elongated arm shot up from some bushes.
“I’m here...I’m fine. Be out in a moment.”
Rita, only twelve inches high, but dragging her over-sized arm behind her, stumbled out of the brushes, picking leaves and twigs out of her hair.
“I hate the woods,” She muttered. “This is even worse than when I was filming ‘Tomahawk’s revenge’...!”
“This kind of thing happen often to you folks?” Robot man asked, as he and Larry struggled to straighten his damaged leg.
“Pretty typical for a Tuesday,” Larry shrugged, helping the metal man to his feet. “Only part that bugs me, is that scanner Niles gave us seemed to be making that rift thing worse...?”
“Maybe we should have Niles refrain from any more tinkering with any of the Chief’s gadgets,” Rita suggested, flexing her fingers as her arm returned to its normal length.
She then furrowed her brow and slowly returned to her normal height.
They helped Robot man limp along for several feet, before Rita grew both frustrated and giant-sized, in order to carry her damaged teammate.
She carried the battered robot man, like a child would a doll, while Larry sat, perched on her shoulder, holding onto her collar with one hand to steady himself.
The forest was now only waist high to Elastic Girl, and she waded her way through it and back to Danny the street.
“Okay, let’s see about getting you fixed...,” she said.
“I hope you understand if I’d prefer not to go back to the fixit shop,” Robot man said. “Think I’d prefer to do the work myself.”
“I can...um...take you to the garage, down by the pizza place,” Rita said. “Since there aren’t any cars on Danny, they should be happy for the work.”
“Hey, isn’t that Mallah and Papercut, down there on the bench?” Larry asked, pointing with his free hand. “How did the guys we went to rescue manage to beat us back here?”*
(If you read the issue ‘Quality Couple time’, you now know that we have now caught up with the epilogue featuring Mallah and Papercut- Trav)
“You want me drop you off?” Rita asked.
“No,” Larry said, shaking his head. “I’ve had enough for one day. Those two knuckleheads will be fine, if I get a cup of coffee before I check on them.”
“Be nice,” Rita chided.
As she walked, she waved down at various residents of the sentient street.
**********
Meanwhile, in one of the dark corners of reality...
The being known as Anti-matter man sat, huddled in his quantum bubble of a prison.
An enormous being, with faintly luminescent, blue skin, and a bulbous, bald head. His eyes glowed like hot coals.
He was clad in an orange bodysuit.
The massive, cosmic being peered at the wall of the bubble. He then ran a blue hand over the spot where the mysterious rift had suddenly appeared, pondering the new weak spot, in the wall of his cage...
They are tired, disorganized and many of them are struggling to figure out what happens next.
**********
Having few emotional ties to anyone in the Doom Patrol or currently living on the sentient street that is their current headquarters, left Monsieur Mallah, the team’s resident intelligent, gun-toting gorilla, at loose ends and with a bit of free time.
He decided to use his time in the activities that helped to cheer him up, or at least distract him: drinking coffee, cleaning his guns and plotting his revenge on the Doom Patrol when he was eventually reunited with his mentor, partner in crime and best friend, the Brain.
He sat at one of the little tables in front of Caffeine Deim, as his collection of weapons tended to upset the other patrons of the coffee shop.
“Hey, Mallah!”
Jogging up was a thin, young man, clad all in white: bodysuit, jacket, pouched belt, goggles, gloves and boots.
Even his spiked hair was white.
Papercut was a one-time d-list super villain, who had seen the error of his ways, after a short prison sentence, and was now attempting to be more heroic.
He wasn’t so much the Doom Patrol’s newest member, as their annoying younger brother that tagged along.
“Hey, Can you…uh… help me with something?” Papercut asked, hesitantly. “The rest of the Patrol is all scattered and…busy…Flex is around, but he’s busy with the kids…not sure where Robot man wandered off to…he might be hanging out with Mr. Caulder…”
“Did any of that babbling contain a question?” Mallah grumbled, not looking up from his gun maintenance.
“What? Oh, yeah, right, sorry. I was doing a bit of a patrol, after we all, y’know, got back. With all the recent craziness, Danny wanted a head count…”
“I will shoot you, if you don’t reach the point in the next three seconds,” Mallah said, picking up a pistol and chambering a bullet, as he looked up at the young super villain.
“You know those families that came with us, from when we were in China? Well, a couple kids wandered off, and I need someone to help me look for them,” Papercut said, quickly, his hands up, in a placating gesture.
“You want me to tromp through the woods, looking for lost children?” Mallah asked. “With you…?”
There was an awkward moment, as the two looked at each other.
Papercut had no idea what to say next, so just stood, uncomfortably, waiting for Mallah to speak first, and hopefully, not shot him.
“Well, I’ve nothing better to do,” he grunted, holstering his guns and gulping down his coffee. “Lead on.”
Not wanting to push his luck, Papercut just nodded and started walking to the end of the street.
The pavement ended and a dirt path snaked away from Danny the street and into a foreboding looking expanse of forest. The trees were densely packed together and strewn with vines and creepers. The air felt moist and heavy.
“Phew…!” Papercut muttered, wiping the back of a gloved hand across his forehead. “We back in New Orleans? This humidity is killer.”
Mallah merely hmphed and began pushing his way through the underbrush and down the narrow path, followed by his slightly anxious teammate.
Within a couple yards, the wall of foliage rendered them out of sight from Danny the street.
“Okay, this is creepy,” Papercut muttered, pushing a branch out of the way. ‘I can see how those kids got lost. Can’t even see Danny, and we’re like…uh…ten feet away. Even the sound is muffled.
“It’s trees and dirt,” Mallah told him. “You aren’t lost in the Amazon rain forest. I hear running water, over there…river or a stream.”
“Good place to look. Kids like playing in the water.”
“Is your parenting advice any more reliable than your view of heroics?” Mallah asked, peering ahead.
“I have nephews.” Papercut grumbled. “We aren’t hunting bad guys. They’re just kids! We don’t want to scare them. Just…pretend you want to help, okay?”
The duo glared at each other and pushed their way through the undergrowth, until they reached the stream.
The bank was steep and muddy, and it was easy to make out the small footprints.
“There, they went that way,” Mallah gestured, holstering his gun. “If you need me, I’ll be doing the crosswords puzzle.”
“What? You’re just going to bail on me? Leave me in the woods? What is wrong with you?” Papercut exclaimed.
“I have more important things to do with my time, then pretend to be a superhero,” Mallah sneered, turning to push his way back to the path.
“Right, you’ve got a lot of sulking to do.” Papercut muttered, absently, as he glanced around, trying to find the best way down to the stream.
“Don’t.” Mallah growled, his voice going dangerously quiet.
“Why?” Papercut snapped back. “What’ll you do? Be a jerk and threaten me? That’ll make a change! So tired of your crap. Just because you got dumped…”
Mallah clamped a large hand on Papercut’s skinny shoulder and spun him around. The only thing that kept the villain from stumbling down the bank was Mallah grabbing ahold of the front of his shirt. The ape drew back his other fist, anger blazing from his face.
Papercut, in spite of the knowledge that he was about to get the crap beaten out of him, glared back defiantly.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” he said. “All this crap! All this being a jerk! You’re not a scheming super villain…you’re a thirteen-year-old girl who got ghosted by her best friend!”
He lunged forward and shoved Mallah. In terms of strength, Papercut was outclassed, but his outburst caught the gorilla by surprise, and he stumbled back, tripped over an exposed root and landed on the ground with a breaking of branches and a heavy thud...
“I have worked my butt off, to help and do the right thing,” Papercut ranted, standing over Mallah. “Meanwhile, the guy who has tried to kill them, the Doom Patrol are tripping over themselves, offering to help! But you are so caught up in your angst…!”
He exhaled loudly, then just threw up his hands and walked away.
“Never mind, just go,” he muttered. “You’ve got important sulking to do, and this job will be easier if I’m not worried about getting shot.”
He shook his head and started to slowly, overly-cautiously make his way along the muddy bank.
“You want to go the other way,” Mallah said, quietly, as he got to his feet.
“What?” Papercut asked, unsure where the conversation was going now.
“The footprints go downstream and you can make out a path, where the stream bends.
“Great. Thanks,” Papercut muttered, easing past the gorilla.
He stopped, realizing Mallah was following along behind him.
“What?” he asked, his unease over getting beaten up, being overrun by his confusion over the gorilla’s change of heart.
“Shut up and just let me help,” Mallah muttered, sullenly.
The duo tramped along, following the stream through the woods. In several places, the underbrush overran the narrow embankment. Luckily, the stream was shallow, as Papercut had to wade several times. Mallah merely swung up into the trees and climbed until there was a clear path again.
Once around the bend in the stream, there was small clearing.
There was more evidence that the children had been there. Along with more footprints there was a scrawled tic-tac-toe game in the dirt and what looked like a small house made out of sticks.
“Okay, they’ve been here,” Papercut nodded, reaching into his pockets. He came out with a handful of small, origami birds. “Do your stuff guys.”
He threw them up into the air, and they immediately flew off in a half dozen different directions.
“I can see a building of some sort,” Mallah said, from up in the trees. “We should probably head that way.”
“Okay. My flock will find me if they spot the kids.”
One on the ground, one in the trees, the duo headed for the building.
“Wonder if anyone has noticed we’re gone?” Papercut muttered.
**********
Interlude: Steve Dayton and Mento:
Rita gave Mento a light kiss on the cheek, before standing up and making her way down the row of seats.
Once more alone in the movie theater, the master of mental might, focused his gaze at the large, blank, white screen. This allowed him to focus all the power of his helmet out into the infinite beyond.
While his vast mental energies were scanning the multi-verse, watching for a threat only he seemed aware was approaching the Earth, a tiny ember of thought remained separate, lingering on the recently departed Rita.
That single drop, in an ocean of thought, slowly rubbed against its neighbors, creating a cascade of emotions, memories, of Rita and their life together.
Slowly, Mento’s hands moved from the arms of his chair and gripped the sides of his purple helmet.
Trembling with the effort, Mento lifted the helmet from his head and tossed it away. It landed a couple seats down the row.
“Finally!” Steve Dayton exclaimed. “Thought you could contain me, did you?”
He glared at the discarded helmet.
“I made you! It was my planning, work, genius and money that made Mento! And you turn around and try and cage me, usurp me, so you can pull this weird, little attention-getting stunt and lure Rita, my wife away from me. That is not happening. I will fight you!”
He glared at the helmet, peering into the empty eyeholes of the built-in mask, challengingly. This lasted for several moments, as though the disgruntled billionaire expected the strange headgear to respond.
He then looked away, glancing around at the empty theater.
“I can give Rita a life, a family and a home that’s more than this…madhouse!” he muttered. “Why she would choose them, over me…?”
So absorbed in his own grievances, Steve Dayton failed to notice, when a pair of hands reached out and picked up the Mento helmet.
He was still in mid-grumble, when the purple helmet was jammed back down upon his head.
“No…what…I…!” Mento exclaimed, gripping the arms of his chair, while his body shook. His body went ridged and then he returned to staring intently at the blank, white movie screen.
“Enough of that, Mr. Dayton. Once things have settled down, you and your alter ego can sort out your issues. Until then, the world needs Mento, not yet another self-aggrandizing billionaire.”
If Mento had turned his head, to catch a glimpse of the voice’s owner, he would have seen Nobody there.
Nor did he notice that Nobody had made off with his popcorn.
**********
Back in the woods, Papercut and Mallah pushed their way through the brush and tree limbs to a larger clearing.
It was a field, that at one time had been trimmed down, but which the forest was in the process of reclaiming. The grass was knee-high and the few trees and brushes were small but grew wild.
The house was a grey hulk, slowly collapsing in on itself. It sported a sagging porch, of its half dozen windows, only two were unbroken and a particularly ambitious vine had grown up one wall.
“Yep, that place is definitely either haunted or home to a serial killer,” Papercut muttered, shading his eyes with a gloved hand while he peered about. “Weird. What’s with those statues…?”
There was a half dozen statues, scattered about the side yard of the old house.
“An abandoned artist retreat?” Mallah shrugged. “You’re the child expert, where would they hide?”
“Probably the creepy statues,” Papercut, reluctantly agreed.
He let loose another handful of paper birds and a few tiny, origami horses, to scout the yard and house, as he and Mallah walked over to the statues.
“Okay, this is weird.” Papercut said, hands on hips as he studied the scattered artwork.
There was a half dozen statues of people, all done in metal or stone.: two children, a man in hunting gear, two construction workers and a woman in a professional skirt and blazer ensemble. They all seemed to be in poses where they were moving away from something and all of them had expressions of anxiety, if not outright fear.
Scattered about were smaller statues, several dogs, a few squirrels and racoons and several crows.
“Yeah, pretty sure Danny was running this horror movie in the theater last week,” Papercut muttered, backing away from the statues and glancing about nervously. “We need to find those kids, get the hell outta here and come back with the Patrol…!”
Mallah didn’t dispute his teammate’s argument, merely slid his guns out of their holsters and scanned his surroundings, never fully turning his back on the old house
“Gather up your little minions,” Mallah instructed, quietly. “Search the yard. I’ll check the house.”
Papercut waded through the tall grass, giving the creepy statues a wide berth, as he headed for the dense underbrush surrounding the yard.
Concentrating, he soon had a flock of paper birds fluttering around him.
Several pecked him on the shoulder, to get his attention, and then flew towards a large shrub.
At one time, it had been trimmed and cared for, but now was an overgrown mass.
The birds landed on the ground, their tiny beaks pointing to an opening.
Papercut kneeled down and peered into the tangled, shadowy depths of the bush.
Two young Chinese children, a boy and a girl, were huddled together, looking back at him with dirt-smeared, fearful faces.
“Hey guys,” he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “It’s okay. We’re gonna take you back to your folks. How about you come with me…?”
Their reply was a fast, anxious babble.
“Right. You don’t speak English, and I failed high school Spanish.” Papercut muttered. “Gonna be tricky.”
He reached out a gloved hand.
“Just come on out,” Papercut said, keeping his tone even and friendly. “I know I look weird, but I’m gonna help. You’ll be okay.”
His reassuring speech was drowned out by the sound of gunfire.
“Great.” He muttered, leaping to his feet.
**********
Mallah made his way across the overgrown yard. Despite his size, he moved quite quietly, hardly rustling the grass.
The porch took up the front of the house, a sprawling mass of sagging, moss-encrusted grey wood. Mallah paused at the bottom step, holstered one gun and knelt. Laying on its side was one of Papercuts’ tiny birds.
Except this one was made of stone.
“Interesting,” The gorilla muttered, thoughtfully. “And worrying.”
Mallah picked it up, rubbing his large fingers over the birds’ stony surface. He then frowned and tucked it into one of the pouches on his gun belt.
Stepping up, Mallah glanced around the porch. He couldn’t see into the house, as the windows were either coated with dust and grime and covered with rough, makeshift curtains.
There was a path, from the steps to the front door, but otherwise, the porch was littered with trash: broken furniture, a large pile of rags and discarded clothes and other assorted refuse.
He’d made the obvious deduction that something or someone had turned the people and animals into statues and the obvious place to look was the house, but not knowing what he was looking for made it difficult to know how to precede.
Then the pile of rags stood up.
It appeared to be a man, underneath the knee-length blur tunic and green pointed hood. His face, already in the shadow of the hood, was further obscured by either a domino mask, or possibly just a wide smear of dirt across the bridge of his nose.
“Alchemy…!” Mallah grumbled.
“Doctor, if you please,” The shabby super villain replied, coldly. “Which one are you? Not Grodd, he’s taller…wait, it’s the Brain’s pet…Mallah, isn’t it?”
“Watch yourself, you little jumped-up wizard…!” Mallah snarled, his grip tightening on his pistol.
“No one appreciates what I am doing,” Alchemy muttered, sullenly, sinking deeper into his hood as he glared at the rickety floor. “This is not Harry Potter, what I do is science! I am unlocking the secrets that exist within the very building blocks of the elements! But I can’t do that with narrow-minded dolts stomping through my yard and interrupting me!”
Both ape and man raised their hands, brandishing weapons at each other.
Mallah had his guns, while Doctor Alchemy held a rock.
It was oblong, roughly the same size and shape as a sub roll. It was worn smooth, and despite its dull brown color, seemed to pulse with an inner energy.
“I do not have time to join your clandestine cabal, for whatever petty revenge schemes you and your…mentor have in mind. Can no one understand that?”
“We didn’t come here looking for you,” Mallah snarled in reply. “No one is looking to recruit you! No one cares! I’m only here on some foolish errand that has nothing to do with you. If you’d stop turning everyone who strolls by into statuary, you could toil in obscurity to your hearts’ content.”
The gorilla flipped off the safety on his guns.
“Let me be on my way, and you can go back to spinning straw into gold,” he advised.
Alchemy’s stone glowed, as did the gun in Mallah’s left hand. The gorilla let go of it seconds before it was transformed into glass. It shattered when it hit the porch floor.
Mallah fired his other pistol as he leapt backwards, landing on the porch railing. It was rickety, so he clutched it tightly with his prehensile toes, as he fired at Doctor Alchemy.
The hooded rogue protected himself by throwing up bits of trash from the porch and then transforming them into a more bullet proof substance, such as stone or steel.
Mallah leapt to the ground, ducking below the railing, as he reloaded. That was where Papercut found him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Mallah grabbed Papercut by the back of his jacket and lifted him up, so he could see in between the crooked railings.
“Holy crap! That’s Doctor Alchemy!” he exclaimed, before Mallah yanked him back down.
A blast from the philosopher’s stone, turned the railing to mud.
“Did you find the children?” Mallah asked, firing off a few quick shots before grabbing Papercut and dodging back around the corner of the house.
“Yeah, they’re other there, at the far end of the yard.”
“Get them and get back to Danny.” Mallah instructed. “Get help. I’ll keep Alchemy busy.”
“What? Are you crazy…?” Papercut protested.
“Most likely.” Mallah shrugged, checking his guns. “Alchemy is deranged. Much as I’d like to, we can’t just leave and hope the Justice League stumble across this before he turns half the population of the state into lawn ornaments. Go, make yourself useful!”
Mallah leapt back up onto the porch, guns blazing.
Papercut stood, his back against the aging wood of the house.
“Would it be so bad if I let him get turned to stone…?” he mused, indecisively. “Damnit, if I’m gonna do something stupid, why couldn’t it be rescuing somebody I actually like?”
Taking a deep breath, the skinny super-villain raced around the corner of the building, reaching into his belt pouches, as he ran along the porch.
Doctor Alchemy was so focused on the heavily armed gorilla shooting at him, that Papercut easily reached the porch steps.
“Hey, Dumbledore!” Papercut shouted, hurling a handful of paper snowflakes at the hooded villain.
They swooped and swirled around Doctor Alchemy.
The rogue swung his stone about, zapping wildly at the mini blizzard. The paper snowflakes were sharp edged, nicking any exposed skin. They were unable to cut through the rough cloth of his tunic and hood.
Soon, the porch and front of the old, decrepit house was a strange patchwork of various elements: glass, wood, paper, stone and steel.
It was littered with numerous tiny birds, animals and snowflakes, also transmuted from paper to stone or metal.
Papercut frantically searched his belt pouches and pockets for more, but was quickly running out of paper constructs to send against the crazed villain.
Mallah fired off a few more shots, winging Doctor Alchemy in the shoulder, right before a stray blast of elemental energy turned his gun to wood.
The two villains froze, eying each other anxiously.
“Just throw it at him, you idiot!” Papercut shouted.
Mallah shrugged and took his teammate’s advice. The wooden firearm caught Alchemy in the solar plexus, and he dropped to his knees.
Mallah leapt over the rickety railing. Landing in the grass, grabbed Papercut by the back of his jacket, threw him over his shoulder and ran across the yard, using his free arm, as well as his legs, to propel him along.
He dove into the surrounding foliage, dropped Papercut to the ground and then crouched down among the bushes and tall grass, intently watching the house.
“We need to stop him,” He muttered, darkly. “He’s an idiot, but a dangerous one.”
He rummaged through his gun belt and bandoliers, frowning.
“A handful of bullets, but he transmuted both my guns…!”
“I might have an idea,” Papercut said, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Not sure how well it’ll work…?”
“Will it stop Alchemy?” Mallah asked, scowling.
“I…uh…yeah, I think so.” Papercut said, alternating between nodding and shrugging.
“Then, what are you waiting for?”
**********
Doctor Alchemy came limping down the front steps, his philosopher’s stone held out, his expression dark.
“I will turn that monkey into porridge…!” he said, through gritted teeth. “When I find him…!”
He didn’t have very far to look, as the monkey in question came bursting out of the trees, beating his broad chest and roaring.
Momentarily startled, the rogue’s aim was unsteady and Mallah easily dodged the first blasts and then took up running in a zig zag pattern to avoid being turned into a statue.
Unfortunately, Mallah zigged, when he should have zagged, and the beret was blasted off his head. It scorched his hair, and the beret, now turned to rubber, bounced across the unkempt law.
“Philistine!” Mallah growled. “Che Guevara gave me that, when I beat him at chess!”
Enraged, he picked up the small, metal statue of a racoon and hurled it at Doctor Alchemy.
The next blast turned the tall grass around the ape to stone, and Mallah stumbled and fell, sprawling, to the ground.
He struggled to get to his feet, only to find Doctor Alchemy standing over him, smiling cruelly.
“While I generally detest interruptions to my research,” he said, raising the philosopher’s stone. “This has been an amusing little chase.”
“Idiot…!” Mallah growled.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Suddenly, a tree came lurching down, striking the crazed villain to the ground, like an enormous flyswatter.
“What…?” Alchemy muttered, weakly, peering upwards.
Then the second tree swung down, smashing him into the ground and into unconsciousness.
Mallah climbed to his feet, wincing slightly. He picked up his transmuted beret, frowned at it sadly and then tossed it away. His frowned deepened, as he watched it bounce across the yard.
Papercut came staggering out of the woods. He was dabbing at a nosebleed with the back of his gloved hand.
“See. Told you it would work,” he said. “Paper is made from trees. Wouldn’t want to do it as a regular thing…my head is pounding…! What now?”
Mallah grunted noncommittedly, then kicked the philosopher’s stone away from the hooded villain.
“Let’s get the children back to Danny,” he said. “Then we can call that woman on Oolong Island to deal with Alchemy.”
“Yeah, I’m okay with that.” Papercut nodded.
**********
Meanwhile, the makeshift lineup of the Doom Patrol was standing at the edge of Danny the street, looking at the surrounding woods with various levels of questioning, anxiety and concern.
“So, that guy in white and the gorilla went looking for a couple of lost kids…?” Robert Crane, the team’s current Robot man asked. His face was a metal plate, so it did not match the skepticism of his tone. “Why would they need our help?”
“You haven’t been hanging out with us that long,” Larry Trainor replied. “We’re the Doom Patrol. Going out to get the mail can end up involving an alien invasion and three super villains.”
“It doesn’t matter if we are saving the world or getting a cat out of a tree,” Rita told them. “It’s about us, acting like the Doom Patrol.”
“Um…yes, about that…?” Mister Caulder, the version of the Chief that turned out to run an appliance repair store, said, anxiously. “I don’t think I can…uh…can do this this. It’s a bit much…!”
“You okay?” Larry asked.
The bearded man shook his head, keeping his gaze down.
“Part of the reason I don’t leave my shop,” Mister Caulder explained, haltingly. “Is because I suffer from some…anxiety. I’m not…comfortable…out...in the world. I thought I could, but…maybe in a city, but not the woods. I’m sorry.”
Rita stretched her arm and patted the older man on the shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she said. “We all have worries and problems. You need to do what’s right for you.”
Caulder kept his eyes down, but nodded.
He slid the battered knapsack off his shoulder and held it out.
“I found a cache of gadgets, from your Chief,” The bearded fixit man explained. “I managed to get a couple working…they might help.”
He held the bag towards Robot man.
“There’s a…um…scanner, sort of thing…it’ll find any odd energy signals.”
The metal man nodded and rummaged in the bag, pulling out an item that looked like a clunky flashlight, with a blue bulb and numerous extra wires.
“You should use it, as I’m not sure how…uh…safe it is.”
“I suppose I am the sturdiest one,” Robot man said.
“Okay, go back to your shop,” Larry said. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Thank you.” He said, looking up and giving the others a brief smile, before turning and walking away.
Larry sighed, shrugged and then started down the path.
Rita quickly joined him, while Robot Man walked slowly behind, studying the bag of gadgets.
“We’re off to a great start,” The bandaged-wrapped hero muttered. “Our new Chief forgot to mention he’s agoraphobic…!”
“I admit, it’s not a great start,” Rita shrugged. “But, at the same time, I wasn’t expecting we’d end up saving the Justice League our first time out. Don’t be a grump.”
She gave him a stern look and Larry nodded.
“Okay. So, what about the man of steel?” He asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the third member of the group.
“He’s going through everything Cliff did, while having missed seventy years of history,” Rita said. “Try and be more supportive and helpful than you’ve been to Mallah.”
“Hey, now, I’m not…!” Larry began to protest.
“I can hear you, you know.” Robot man said, not looking up from the makeshift scanner.
The other two heroes stopped and turned to face Robot man. He just walked past, soon leaving them behind.
“I do appreciate your concern.”
“Great,” Larry grumbled. “Any other problems going to pop up while we go for this walk in the woods…?”
“Sure,” Rita said. “Your turn.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Back at the fixit shop, you said something about the Negative man*,” she said.
(* last issue- Trav)
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” Larry shrugged. “Nothing I can put my finger on. Just little things…Negative man and I have never had a great relationship. Way back when, he just did what he was told. After I died, he started to act up…maybe there’s a piece of me in there or maybe he just started thinking for himself…? Anyway, since the most recent time I stopped being dead, he’s been acting…weird. Feel like he’s trying to…tell me something or do something…I don’t know…I need to figure things out.”
They walked along in silence for several moments.
“Okay,” Rita nodded. “You need help, let me know. Until then, stop being such a grouch.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Hate to interrupt,” Robot man said. “But the lights on this are blinking. Is that bad?”
The other two stood on either said of the metal man, studying the makeshift scanner.
“Looks like it’s picking up an energy signal…?” Larry said. “Coming…that way…!”
Robot man holding out the scanner, walked down a narrow path.
Rita and Larry followed, single file.
“All right,” Robot man said. “The orange light is blinking, and this monitor indicates…direction and intensity of the signal…so, if I push this…!”
Suddenly, a blue crackle of energy shot from the scanner, creating a swirling circle in the air, ten feet in front of the trio.
“That can’t be good…!” Larry muttered.
From out of the swirling disk a hand shot out and grabbed Robot man. A hand, as blue as the energy around it, and of such a size as made the steel hero look like an action figure.
“What the…?” Rita exclaimed, stumbling backwards a few steps, her legs growing with each step. By the time she bumped into Larry, she was nine feet tall.
Robot man struggled to break the giant’s grip. The crackling of other-dimensional energy mingled with the grinding of motor-servos, as he attempted to break free.
“We gotta help him!” Larry shouted, lunging past Rita. He grabbed the enormous blue thumb and was immediately enveloped in arcs of blue energy.
His body arched and as he was flung backwards, Negative man was flung out of his body.
Larry stumbled backwards and collapsed on the ground. The Negative man tumbled through the air, crashing through trees.
Oh my gosh…!” Rita breathed, wide-eyed. “Um…okay.”
“I …uhh…could use…some…hnnn…help!” Robot man grunted, struggling to be heard over the sound of crumpling metal.
Rita shot up to fifty feet tall and lunged forward. Even at his maximum height, her hands were still smaller than the blue one that was squeezing her teammate.
She could feel a tingle, even though her gloves, as she grabbed the massive hand. Using both hands, her arms trembling with the effort, Elastic Girl pulled the gigantic blue fingers apart, and Robot man fell to the ground.
The giant hand flailed around, not finding the metal man, but settling for clamping onto Rita’s wrist.
“No…let go!” She protested, punching the wrist with her free hand.
Negative man returned to Larry’s body, and the bandaged-wrapped hero, climbed, painfully, to his feet, hobbling quickly over to help his teammate.
He promptly tripped, falling to the ground, with a crunching sound.
“Ow…!” He grimaced, trying to sit up. He reached beneath him, and pulled out the scanner device, that Robot man had dropped. The lights on it flickered and it began to spark. “Not sure if we broke this or Niles just doesn’t know what he’s doing…?”
“You might want to put that down and help, Miss Farr!” Robot man shouted. He was struggling to get to his feet, as one of his steel knees had been crushed and part of his leg melted by the giant hand.
“Yeah, I vote for that idea too!” Rita said, as she was being slowly dragged toward the glowing rift.
Larry Trainor stumbled to his feet and lunged toward his over-sized teammate.
“Rita, shrink!” He shouted, as he struck the blue hand with the only weapon available, the makeshift scanner.
There was a flash of multicolored energy, followed by a silent shockwave that sent all three heroes flying backwards.
“Owww…!” Larry muttered, crawling out of the bush he’d landed in. He stood up and brushed dirt and leaves off his uniform. He held the smoldering stub, that was all that remained of the scanner. He then hobbled over to where Robot man lay sprawled. One leg was bent and crumpled, and his right arm looked to have been dislocated, and hung limply.
The metal man was struggling to sit up, his eyes flickering and his speech sounding like a radio station with bad reception.
“You okay?” Larry asked, trying to help his new teammate. “Damn, you’re heavier than you look! Okay, do I bang you on the side of the head to make the speaker work? Did you just speak in French…?”
“ZZZtttt…I…hnn…I’ll be...just…feel woozy. No internal system damage. It looks bad, but an hour or two with some Sodder and a hammer…where is Miss Farr?”
“Oh my god!” Larry exclaimed, looking around frantically. “Rita!”
Suddenly an elongated arm shot up from some bushes.
“I’m here...I’m fine. Be out in a moment.”
Rita, only twelve inches high, but dragging her over-sized arm behind her, stumbled out of the brushes, picking leaves and twigs out of her hair.
“I hate the woods,” She muttered. “This is even worse than when I was filming ‘Tomahawk’s revenge’...!”
“This kind of thing happen often to you folks?” Robot man asked, as he and Larry struggled to straighten his damaged leg.
“Pretty typical for a Tuesday,” Larry shrugged, helping the metal man to his feet. “Only part that bugs me, is that scanner Niles gave us seemed to be making that rift thing worse...?”
“Maybe we should have Niles refrain from any more tinkering with any of the Chief’s gadgets,” Rita suggested, flexing her fingers as her arm returned to its normal length.
She then furrowed her brow and slowly returned to her normal height.
They helped Robot man limp along for several feet, before Rita grew both frustrated and giant-sized, in order to carry her damaged teammate.
She carried the battered robot man, like a child would a doll, while Larry sat, perched on her shoulder, holding onto her collar with one hand to steady himself.
The forest was now only waist high to Elastic Girl, and she waded her way through it and back to Danny the street.
“Okay, let’s see about getting you fixed...,” she said.
“I hope you understand if I’d prefer not to go back to the fixit shop,” Robot man said. “Think I’d prefer to do the work myself.”
“I can...um...take you to the garage, down by the pizza place,” Rita said. “Since there aren’t any cars on Danny, they should be happy for the work.”
“Hey, isn’t that Mallah and Papercut, down there on the bench?” Larry asked, pointing with his free hand. “How did the guys we went to rescue manage to beat us back here?”*
(If you read the issue ‘Quality Couple time’, you now know that we have now caught up with the epilogue featuring Mallah and Papercut- Trav)
“You want me drop you off?” Rita asked.
“No,” Larry said, shaking his head. “I’ve had enough for one day. Those two knuckleheads will be fine, if I get a cup of coffee before I check on them.”
“Be nice,” Rita chided.
As she walked, she waved down at various residents of the sentient street.
**********
Meanwhile, in one of the dark corners of reality...
The being known as Anti-matter man sat, huddled in his quantum bubble of a prison.
An enormous being, with faintly luminescent, blue skin, and a bulbous, bald head. His eyes glowed like hot coals.
He was clad in an orange bodysuit.
The massive, cosmic being peered at the wall of the bubble. He then ran a blue hand over the spot where the mysterious rift had suddenly appeared, pondering the new weak spot, in the wall of his cage...