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SUPER HERO CHRONICLES - CITADEL: RISE OF THE HEROES (PART 3)

In an alternate universe, where superpowers are realised, the city of Citadel, Australia, finds that even when evil is thwarted, it still tries to find a way to gain power - its heroes must do the same.

By Travis BerketaPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 36 min read
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RECAP: Two years earlier Padrick Panthia III's attempts at retrieving the Jewel of Bast was accidentally thwarted by Bobby Flynn, who came upon his powers while trying to end his life. At the same time, Panthia had funded a group of archaeologists to find the Talisman of Sekhmet, in the hope that they would find the other half of the Bubastis Amulet. Meanwhile, Bobby Flynn was trying to get his life back in order while coming to terms with his powers...

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Eight Years Ago…

Archaeological Dig Site

Bubastis, Egypt

22nd March 6:04am EET (2:04pm AEST)

"You can commence in that region of the ruins. Michelle is currently in the pit down yonder, attending to it." [Image by Travis Berketa]

“Already working hard, I see,” Jennifer Hans greeted the archaeologist, as she wound her way through the archaeological dig. Having finished her schooling, Jennifer decided that she wanted to travel – much to her parents’ dismay; so she compromised and volunteered to work at an excavation site in Egypt. This allowed her some time for sightseeing and time to pursue her love of historical sites and artifacts.

The archaeologist looked up from his work and took in the person talking to him. She was wearing khaki cargo pants, a long-sleeved white shirt and a beige broad-brimmed hat protected her from the soon to be scorching sun.

Recognising the young woman, Doctor Allen Whitman rose wearily from his squat position. He was not very tall, standing at just under 1.6 metres, but his excitable manner got everyone’s attention whenever he needed to pass on information to volunteers. “Ah, good morning, Jennifer – we were not anticipating volunteers until seven o’clock.” He pulled off his hat and wiped at his sweaty brow with a once-white handkerchief, and then dabbed at the ginger and white hairs around his top lip that continued around to form a full grown, neatly trimmed beard.

“Well I was up and about early this morning, and I thought that you might want some help,” Jennifer said with a smile, as she looked down at the grid that Allen was working.

“Well thank you, Jennifer – assistance is forever appreciated by those morning larks like Michelle and I.” Allen returned the smile, placing the handkerchief back into the pocket of his safari shorts. He pulled off his gloves and placed them neatly next to his equipment at the base of his grid, before leading the volunteer up a sandy incline. He stopped and pointed to where a figure appeared to be working at another grid some thirty-metres away. “You can commence in that region of the ruins. Michelle is currently in the pit down yonder, attending to it. Perhaps she will require your support.”

“You’re the boss.” Jennifer replied, as she cautiously walked down the incline, with only a few clumps of dried grass stopping her from losing her footing on the shifting sand. Scanning the area as she walked, Jennifer found that this was the place that Allen had referred to in the briefing yesterday. He explained that it was believed to be the far corner of the temple dedicated to the Goddess Bast. She had heard talk of some powerful artifacts that were said to exist in some of these ancient Egyptian temples and was excited by the prospect of being able to explore this site.

“Aren’t you a little early?” Michelle adjusted her sunglasses as she rose to take in the volunteer from her vantage point in the pit. The doctor of archaeology was about two heads taller than her male counterpart and her dark skin, perfectly shaped almond eyes and warm smile, gave her a modelesque appearance. Jennifer wondered why such a beautiful woman would have chosen to dig in the dirt as an occupation, rather than be up on the Glamóre Fashions catwalk. However, Jennifer also knew that Michelle was very good at her job, having been a well-known figure in the world of archaeology and written several distinguished books, including Lost Treasures of Africa and The Amulet of Bubastis. “Volunteers are meant to start at seven,” the doctor added with a check of her watch.

“I was up and thought you might like the help,” Jennifer repeated herself, as she yanked her pair of leather gloves from her back pocket and began pulling them on. “Allen told me that I should start over here… so, what would you like me to do?”

Michelle smiled, while waving a small pick at the teenager, before placing it on the digging mound. “This is your fifth day and you’re still eager to help. We must be doing something right.” She settled back down over the grid and gestured for Jennifer to climb down the ladder and join her in the pit.

“What can I say? I always pictured myself rising early to spend time on the sand – except the sand led to a beach.” Jennifer descended the ladder with a grin, grabbed the pick and crouched on the other side of the two-by-two metre grid. She watched Michelle using a trowel to scoop away some of the soft sand for a second and then started picking away at the hard sand on her end.

There was silence for some minutes, apart from the sound of equipment tinkering and the wind blowing sand and dry grass around the archaeological site.

“So besides all things ancient, what exactly are we looking for?” Jennifer broke the silence, as she got up to stretch.

“How much do you know about Ancient Egypt?” Michelle asked, without looking up.

“Um… There were pharaohs who ruled the land, slaves built pyramids and Cleopatra was a really pretty queen,” Jennifer blurted, without considering the question.

“So you don’t know much then,” Michelle stated, this time turning to give Jennifer a smile.

“Um… well, I read your book on the lost treasures of Africa. That was really interesting.” Jennifer hoped that she would sound a bit smarter if she added in that fact. “And I really liked the Egyptian gods and goddesses chapters… Plus, you wrote that book on that amulet in Bubastis… Is that why we’re digging around these ruins?” She crouched down once more and began clearing some of the sand she had chipped away earlier.

“The area we’re excavating is said to be where the Ancient Egyptians built a temple to honour the Goddess Bastet, more commonly known as Bast. She’s depicted in Egyptian artworks as having the head of a domestic cat and the body of a woman. Cats were highly regarded in Egypt, even more so than human life,” Michelle enlightened the volunteer. Her enthusiasm for the topic was evident, in that she removed her attention from the grid and focused solely on Jennifer.

“So we’re looking for cats? Or mummified cats or something?”

“No, those are like mice in a mouse plague around here,” Michelle grinned, before becoming enthralled in her explanation once again. “This temple was said to have hidden many riches, some of which might explain why this city, Bubastis, was seen as the most important to those that worshipped Bast. Bubastis was relatively unimportant when compared to other Egyptian cities in those times; so we don’t know what made it so special to her worshippers?”

Jennifer rubbed her sore knees, “So when you say riches are we talking gold and jewels, like that amulet you wrote about, or is it some metaphoric thing?”

Michelle went back to her digging. “We’re not sure. We don’t even know if these riches exist.”

Suddenly a jubilant shout came from the other side of the diggings.

Michelle was the first to jump up. She attempted to peer over the wall of the pit, but could not see over the incline in front of her, so she quickly scampered up the ladder and rushed towards the direction of the shouting. Jennifer watched her and then, not wanting to miss out on the action, decided to follow.

“Michelle, I have unearthed a precious item!” Allen called from where he had first been working. As Jennifer stood atop the embankment, she could see the doctor jumping about with a brush in his hand, occasionally pointing to one of the cells in his grid.

“Is it treasure?” Jennifer questioned impatiently, as she began sliding her way down the mound of sand.

“Quickly, Michelle, behold this relic!” Allen yelled; ignoring Jennifer’s question; as his counterpart made her way over to him.

“What’s brought on this fit of excitement?” Michelle asked in a curious tone, as she joined him.

Allen beamed and pointed down into his grid to what appeared to be a partial stone tablet. Jennifer soon joined them and examined it from where she stood. The tablet had, what appeared to be, hieroglyphics chiselled into it. Michelle squatted down and used a gloved-finger to wipe some of the sand from the stone tablet before attempting to decode the symbols.

“It appears to explain something about Sek…”

“…Sekhmet!” Allen interrupted elatedly, “From what I could gather, it mentions something about a powerful amulet…”

“The Bubastis Amulet?” Michelle questioned with a quick glance at Allen, before returning her attention to the stone tablet.

“I believe so.” Allen smiled. He crouched down and began using a knife to scrape around the outline of the tablet. While he worked he explained, “From what I have deciphered, it tells of the amulet being based in the Eighteenth Nome of Lower Egypt, in the south-eastern portion of the Delta in a place the Greeks called Bubastis – where we currently stand…”

Jennifer watched the two archaeologists questioning and answering each other, as though she was watching a game of table tennis. They maneuvered themselves around the artifact, skillfully brushing away the sand and eventually revealing more of the tablet.

“It mentions Bastet,” Michelle stressed happily, pointing to a picture of an ointment jar next to two half circles. Inspecting the hieroglyphics further, she said, “Something about ‘darkness within’ and ‘light within’ ”

“Bastet and Sekhmet?” Allen shrugged.

“Okay, enough!” Jennifer interrupted.

Allen and Michelle looked at her as though they had just realised that she was still standing there.

“Alright, so I got stone tablet and you mentioned a couple of gods at the end there,” Jennifer stated with an overwhelmed look, “Now I know that it’s in ancient Egyptian, or in hieroglyphics, or whatever, but I want it in English… please.”

Allen looked at the tablet, then at Michelle, and then back at Jennifer, “Um… that could be difficult, young Jennifer. You see the Egyptians were…”

Michelle stood up and placed a placating hand on Allen’s shoulder, signalling that she would take it from here. “Okay, it’s like this. This tablet is possibly a map to the Amulet of Bubastis. The goddesses Allen mentioned were Bastet and Sekhmet. Nobody really knows about them, but there are a few schools of thought on the subject...” Jennifer nodded, happy now that Michelle was making it a conversation she could follow. “One is that Bastet, or Bast, was originally a warrior goddess, protecting her followers. She was depicted with the head of a lioness, only to then be later depicted with the head of a normal house cat, which in turn made her a fertility goddess.”

Jennifer took this in, “But didn’t you write something about the goddess Sekhmet having a lioness head too?”

“Well,” Allen adjusted his glasses and looked at Michelle, as though he wanted her permission to speak, before he continued, “Another belief is that there were many different temples in this vicinity that worshipped a myriad of lioness goddesses – Bastet, Sekhmet, Mut, Tefnut and Hathor, just to name a few…”

“But – to cut millions of years of history short,” Michelle interrupted, seemingly getting impatient, “We’re running on the assumption that Bastet and Sekhmet were one and the same…”

“Or twins – if you like,” Allen blurted, only to receive a derisive look from his counterpart.

“Or – one and the same,” Michelle stressed, as though this was an ongoing argument between both archaeologists for some time. “You see, while Bastet represented everything pure and good, Sekhmet symbolised the opposite; she showed the destructive nature of man.”

“So what’s this have to do with this amulet thing that you’re looking for?” Jennifer queried, her eyes shifting to the unoccupied stone tablet still sitting in the sand.

“The Bubastis Amulet is a legend!” Allen exclaimed; sounding a little upset that Jennifer had not given it the reverence it deserved. “The amulet is said to have been worn by Bastet and Sekhmet… the twins,” he added, with a sharp look at Michelle to see her reaction.

However, Jennifer’s laugh stopped them both from saying anymore. “So was it something like, Bast got it on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and Sekhmet got it on other days?”

“No.” Allen was not amused.

A grin came over Michelle’s face, as she decided to field the question, in a bid to end the conversation and return her attention back to the tablet. “The amulet is a necklace made up of a talisman and a jewel. The Jewel of Bastet is said to feed off mankind’s good side and has the power to restore life…”

“… or at least prolong life,” Allen added, returning to a crouched position over the tablet.

“While the Talisman of Sekhmet feeds off mankind’s sinister side and has the power to destroy life…”

“… or result in bad luck to whomever the wearer elects,” Allen announced once more.

“The jewel fits into the talisman, making the amulet,” Michelle said, demonstrating this by cupping her right hand over her left fist. “Together the good and bad side balance each other out and the wearer may possibly have everlasting life.”

The archaeologists both went back to attempting to extract the tablet from its place, while Jennifer pondered this information.

“I don’t buy it,” Jennifer stated after some time. The two archaeologists looked up at her, wondering what her teenage mind could not fathom. Noticing their curious faces staring at her, she went on, “If this amulet gives everlasting life, then why are all the ancient Egyptians dead? Surely there’d be someone who would have come forward saying ‘Hey guys, I’m like from the ancient past and I’m still here. Let me tell you about what really happened in history.’ Don’t you think?”

Allen snorted disdainfully, while Michelle smiled and shook her head, as they both returned to their task.

Jennifer felt out of her depth and decided to fill the silent void with another question, “So you really think this amulet exists?”

Allen gave grunt of effort, as he attempted to move the tablet, and then went back to clearing the sand around it, before answering, “Well, the stone tablet says something about an amulet.” He rummaged in the sand, hoping to dislodge it. “We have already had a quantity of luck unearthing this, hopefully it persists.”

“Forever positive – that’s Allen for you,” Michelle stated, as she felt the stone tablet begin to budge.

“Careful… be very careful, my dear,” Allen cooed, as he stepped back to allow Michelle to continue retrieving the tablet from its resting place.

“What do you want me to do?” Jennifer asked Allen, as she watched Michelle in action. “I feel like I’m out of my element here.”

Allen glanced at his watch, before turning his attention to Jennifer. “The other volunteers are scheduled to arrive in about fifteen minutes. You can either take some respite or you could continue working at the other mound.”

Jennifer looked at Michelle struggling with the tablet and sighed. “I feel I’m just in the way here. I’ll go back to where I started the day,” Jennifer said, as she walked towards the embankment.

“Be sure to summon us should you find anything of value,” Allen advised.

“I’ll do that,” Jennifer spun around and responded, as she walked backwards. “Who knows, I might even find this amul…eh?”

Jennifer looked down and noticed the sand under her feet giving way, before she found herself sinking into the earth. Within seconds, she was swallowed up by the earth.

Winston’s Supermarket

Essendon, VIC Australia

22nd March 2:10pm AEST

"Mark my words, boy, if you are not punctual tomorrow, then - stepson or not - you've lost your job!" [Image by Travis Berketa]

“You’re late again, Bobby!” The old man grumbled angrily, as he rose from his seat in the back office to address his stepson. His round bald head, with its splayed white tufts of hair around the sides, and his rotund belly shook angrily, as he implored, “When are you going to learn that punctuality is important?”

“I’m only ten minutes late, Winston,” Bobby responded, as he took off his jacket and shoved it into one of the lockers, set beside the office door. He pulled out his bright orange Winston’s Supermarket vest and threw it on over his white shirt. Winston believed that the vest made the place seem more professional, although Bobby felt that Winston was simply trying to make his staff look ridiculous. “It’s not like anyone’s going to die if I’m not here – there’s only two customers in the place at the moment.”

“It’s not about who’s in the shop, Bobby – it’s the principle of the thing! Over the past month, you’ve had twelve shifts and you’ve only been on time for three of them… and even then, it was just on time!” Bobby gazed into the thick lenses of the old man’s black framed glasses and then looked up at the ceiling and sighed, as this was not the first time he had heard this talk. This immediately agitated the old man. “Don’t huff and puff with me, Robert Flynn! You were hired to do a job between the hours of two o’clock and six – that’s four hours! I’ve got younger kids working in the store who could manage four hours! You’re supposed to be an adult – but you’re pathetic!”

Bobby shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, ignoring the insult on the outside, but feeling it on the inside. “I’m only doing this so Mum gets off my back, so don’t give me a hard time…”

“Hard time?” Winston’s eyes appeared to pop out of their sockets with his eyes becoming huge and dangerous through the lenses of his glasses. “You want to know what hard time is? Hard time is having nothing to support yourself – no food or shelter!” The old man pointed a pudgy finger at his stepson, “Mark my words, boy, if you are not punctual tomorrow, then – stepson or not – you’ve lost your job!” He began to walk back to his office mumbling, “You’ll soon know ‘hard time’, my boy – when you’ve got no money to feed yourself.” He turned in the doorway when he noticed Bobby still standing where he had left him. “Go and start with the pallet in the walk-in, Mr. Hard Time, or is it too much to ask that you do some work while you’re here?”

Bobby rolled his eyes and let out a bigger sigh as he plodded towards the walk-in refrigerator to grab a box of Chocgurt chocolate yoghurts, to begin restocking the shelves. As if his mother would allow him to go about jobless, he thought to himself; there would be no way that his mother would allow Winston to fire him.

“Wow, old Powell isn’t happy with you today, aye?” A voice startled Bobby. He turned around to see a short, scrawny teenager skulking towards him in his black pants, white shirt and bright orange vest. The boy scanned his surroundings and grinned as he entered the walk-in refrigerator.

“Oh… Hi, Zac.”

Without another word, Zac ripped open the box that Bobby was holding and took one of the small brown tubs of Chocgurt.

“What are you doing?” Bobby asked, but he did not make a move to stop the boy.

“I’m having my afternoon break, Flynny-boy,” Zac announced as he opened the Chocgurt and tipped it into his mouth, almost swallowing it whole. Bobby watched as Zac ran a finger around the plastic tub and licked it clean, before placing the empty tub back in the box. “You see, if you’re stacking the shelves, nobody’s going to notice if a tub is missing, aye?” Zac continued smugly while wiping his face with his sleeve, “You’re the boss’s boy, so you can get away with things like that – can’t you, mate? And it’s not like you’re going to say anything, aye Flynny – ‘cause old man Powell doesn’t trust you?”

“And you think he’ll believe you over me?” Bobby questioned; although he already knew the answer – the reply was not going to end up in his favour.

“Of course, mate – ‘cause I at least get to work on time,” Zac replied with a grin. He exaggerated a stretch and then grabbed a box of Nakaz Fries. “Well, I better get back to work. Old man Powell’s gonna be even more upset if he doesn’t see us out there, aye?”

Bobby watched Zac walk confidently through the swinging doors and into the supermarket. He thought about what had just happened; everything the seventeen-year-old boy had said was true about how Winston saw him. Bobby considered the major changes in his life over the past two years and a smile came over his face.

“I’m gonna have to do it. I need to make the change,” Bobby said to himself, before carrying away the box to begin restocking the shelves.

The newly found Temple Ruins of Bastet

Bubastis, Egypt

22nd March 7:19am EET (3:19pm AEST)

She turned to leave, but was stopped by a gust of wind that appeared as a lioness in the doorway to the antechamber. [Image by Travis Berketa]

“Arise child…”

A growling whisper sounded in Jennifer’s mind. Suddenly she felt as though there was a presence next to her and she gasped as she rolled onto her back, flicking the loose sand that had brought her down into the darkness as she moved.

“Who’s there?” Jennifer called while rising up onto one elbow, although she found that she emitted more of a croak than words. Nonetheless, there was no answer. She started to regain her faculties, as she laid her head back onto the soft sand and looked up at a shaft of light. There was the hole she had fallen through, some ten metres above her and she registered panicked voices coming from it, but they were not directed at her.

“What do you mean they cannot get here for another hour? This is an emergency!” Allen’s high-pitched cry rang down into the pit.

Not knowing how long she had been unconscious, Jennifer began regaining her faculties and that was when she realised that a pain was shooting up her left leg. She sat up to check it and felt the sand underneath her was cold and damp. From the small shaft of light that hit her from the hole above, Jennifer could not properly assess the damage that was done to her from the fall. She ran her hands over her sore left leg, only to find that there did not appear to be any bones protruding nor did she seem to have any major blood loss. She peered into the darkness around her and realised that she was sitting in the only light source available.

“Come to me child…” a voice seemed to whisper from the darkness ahead of her.

“Hello?” Jennifer croaked, before clearing her throat and trying again, this time more audible and clearer. “Hello?”

Just then, the shaft of light vanished. Jennifer froze in panic.

“Jennifer, are you able to hear me?”

She looked up at the hole and noticed the hazy silhouette of Allen’s head blocking the minimal amount of light. “Jennifer, are you alright?”

Jennifer moved into a more comfortable position and finally replied, “I’m okay, but I think I’ve sprained my ankle… I mean, I can’t feel anything broken, so I think it’s a sprained ankle.”

The light sprang in once more, as Allen turned to alert someone next to him; Jennifer assumed it was Michelle. “She is currently conscious, however she claims there is an issue with mobility… she presumes it is not a mortal wound.”

“Oh, thank god,” a female voice was heard to utter.

Allen muttered something to her before returning his attention back to Jennifer, “Jennifer, I need you to sit tight and not panic – if you feel you are in a safe environment, refrain from movement of any sort until a paramedic thoroughly inspects your injuries. I have placed a call for some medical assistance, however it does not seem the authorities are prioritising your fall.” His head disappeared to make way for the shaft of light again and then returned. “I sent for one of the volunteers to retrieve the torches from the jeep; however they appear to have been waylaid. I will go and find them. Just wait where you are.” Allen’s head disappeared from the hole, allowing the light to shine in once more, and she heard him saying, “She appears to be calm and in no apparent danger, so I need you to find a rope that is at least twenty metres in length… I only have the five metre rope in the tent…” The voices faded and Jennifer was left in silence.

She allowed herself to lie back once more and closed her eyes.

“Arise child… you are needed…” the familiar growling whisper came to her again, much clearer than before.

Jennifer sat up quickly. “Who’s there?” She called, “Can you help me?”

“Yes, my daughter, but first you must come to me…” the whisper ordered.

Feeling as though she should move further into the obscurity of the pit, Jennifer forced herself up onto her feet. Her left leg brought on the pain, but began to subside once she moved away from the shaft of light. Noting the darkness ahead of her, Jennifer raised her right hand – palm up – and manifested a small fireball that bathed the pit in light.

“Holy…” Jennifer gasped, as she scanned her surroundings. The pit that she had thought she had tumbled into was actually a small chamber. As Jennifer’s flaming hand moved from right to left, she was met by various glittering objects, winking at her with each dancing flame. “It’s… it’s gold… gold and mummified cats and more gold…” she whispered to herself, while taking in the many golden ornaments, which were decorated with various semi-precious stones and hieroglyphics that she could not understand.

“Come my child…” the voice whispered.

Jennifer felt herself drawn past the trove of golden relics towards the back of the chamber. Her leg gave her no trouble, as she climbed two steps that led into an antechamber, which was even smaller than the previous room. Lit only by Jennifer’s flaming hand, she noticed a myriad of mummified cats of different shapes and sizes surrounding a stone pillar, where an ornamental piece of jewellery sparkled.

“Take the talisman and put it on, child…” the ghostly growl directed her.

Jennifer took a step closer to the pillar, only to shake the need away. “What am I doing?” she asked herself, “I better head back… this is crazy… I’m listening to a weird voice in my head… I must have hit my head harder than what I thought…” She turned to leave, but was stopped by a gust of wind that appeared as a lioness in the doorway to the antechamber.

“You must take the talisman… so that we may survive…”

Shocked at the spectral form of the talking lioness, Jennifer threw the flaming ball at it. The fire went through the lioness and landed on the sand in the main chamber, before fizzling out.

“Your attacks are futile, daughter… you must take the talisman… it is your destiny, daughter…” The lioness told her.

“The last time I heard that whole destiny spiel was when a villain was trying to get a hero to join the dark side,” Jennifer stated, summoning up the courage to talk to the spectral lioness. “So you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t take you up on your offer.”

“So be it…” The lioness simply said and Jennifer fell onto the hard packed sand with the pain shooting up her leg once more.

“Agh!” Jennifer screamed holding her injured left leg. “What did you do?”

“We healed your leg, child, but since you refuse to assist us, you will be buried with us…” the lioness’ guttural growl emanated through the antechamber.

“My friends know I’m down here – they’ll find me,” Jennifer said, with her face wincing from the pain.

The wall to the entrance slid across and sealed shut behind the lioness. “Not when you cannot be found. Your voice will not travel through these walls… your only way to leave here is to take up the talisman, child.”

As if on cue, Jennifer heard Allen’s voice calling from the other side of the wall, “Jennifer, are you able to hear me? Jennifer?”

“I’m in here!” Jennifer yelled, “Allen, I’m trapped in here! I can’t move… my leg is…”

“Jennifer? She’s vanished, but look at all of these treasures!” Allen said in an astonished tone.

“Allen – I’m here! Listen to my voice!”

“It is no use, child, he has been taken in by the shiny treasures outside – as all men do. Your only hope is to take the talisman and allow my power to flow through you…”

Jennifer glared at the lioness angrily. “Allen – I’m in here, behind the wall there’s a small room!” She screamed, hurting her throat in the process. The lioness watched her with, what appeared to be, a smug grin. There was no response from beyond the wall. Jennifer broke down into tears. “Why are you doing this? I haven’t done anything to you!”

“I too have done nothing to you, child – I simply wish to help you achieve all that you wish to achieve in this world… but first you must take the talisman.”

Jennifer wiped at the tears that filled her eyes and noticed that the lioness had vanished. She was left alone inside the antechamber.

Bobby Flynn’s Bungalow

Tullamarine, VIC Australia

22nd March 7:02pm AEST

"Oh - don't give me that again - you sound like bloody Winston!" [Image by Travis Berketa]

When Bobby Flynn arrived home after work, he was met by the sight of a young boy stitching some form of clothing in a methodical way, even though the child appeared to not even be concentrating. He looked about at his clean living room with its grey couch sitting at the centre of the carpeted room, facing a 32 inch television set on a wooden cabinet. Turning his head to the left of the entrance, Bobby also found that his kitchen, with its benchtop usually full of dirty dishes, was immaculate. He returned his attention back to the child when he realised the boy was speaking to him.

“You are late, Bobby Flynn,” said the boy, without looking up from his stitching. It was funny how things worked out, Bobby reminisced as he unzipped his jacket. Almost two years ago, this robot was stolen from C.U.R.E. Laboratories in Mount Dandenong, where Bobby had ‘rescued’ it, only to try and dump it in the local playground… purely because Bobby thought that it was the dead body of a boy that he had killed. But as it turned out, the robot was simply offline and when it came back online, because of some weird thing it called the cardiac stone, it traced its way back to Bobby’s house in the hope that Bobby would hide it from people who were trying to use it for evil purposes. Even though Bobby was against keeping it at first, the robot had been very useful in keeping him fed and the house clean.

Taking off his jacket, Bobby threw it on the headrest of the couch and answered, “Yeah, Winston made me stay back because I was ten minutes late for work. He gave me this ridiculous speech about being on time and even threatened to fire me! What an idiot!”

“Punctuality is important, Bobby Flynn,” R.I.C.K.I. stated, turning his head to face Bobby for the first time, “Without punctuality there would be chaos.”

“Oh – don’t give me that again – you sound like bloody Winston!” Bobby dismissed the robot, “How could there be chaos, just because I’m ten minutes late for a shift?”

“Let us see,” RICKI computed, as thousands of probabilities were being processed through his head within seconds, “If Bobby Flynn was ten minutes late for work, and a first-time parent, who was in need of baby formula for their child, rushed in only to find that the formula was not on the shelf, they may then need to travel several kilometres more to find the baby formula. Travelling in the car with a screaming child may place more stress on the parent than they would have if they found the formula at Winston’s Supermarket. This added stress may result in erratic driving, which in turn may lead to an accident. That accident may lead to the death of the parent and the child. It may also lead to the death of a pedestrian who just happened to be on their way to work. The death of this pedestrian leads to their family; comprising of an invalid parent and three children; having insufficient funds to support themselves, which may leave them destitute and without a home…”

“Okay – enough of the sob story!” Bobby shouted, as he walked around the kitchen bench and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He went across to his refrigerator and opened the door. Looking inside, Bobby swore to himself and then turned to look in the robot’s direction. “R.I.C.K.I., I bought some lemonade two days ago – where the hell is it?”

“I have rendered it unsupportive in assisting you to reach your goals, Bobby Flynn,” the robot stated without looking at him.

“Rendered unsupportive?” Bobby said incredulously, while shutting the fridge. “So now I can’t even enjoy a lemonade? First you told me that I couldn’t have Cooley-Cola and now no lemonade? Ever since you showed up, you’ve been trying to change everything about me!”

“Bobby Flynn, do I need to remind you that you chose to follow the path to becoming a hero. When I arrived on your doorstep after you had rescued me from my abductors, I asked two simple things of you,” the robot stood and faced Bobby to inform him, “I asked for refuge from my abductors, who will no doubt still be looking for me, and I asked if you were willing to become the hero that the cardiac stone claims you could be. Your response to that question was in the affirmative. Therefore, it stands to reason that if you are on the path of becoming a hero, there must be a focus on diet…”

Not wanting to argue with the robot, Bobby sighed, “Fine.” He walked across to the tap and poured himself a cup of cold water and then grabbed the newspaper. “You’re right…”

“I am nearly 98.5% correct in all probable situations, Bobby Flynn. You should know that by now.” R.I.C.K.I. boasted, as he went back to his stitching.

Bobby took out the form guide. “Then why can’t you use that to help me with this?” He asked, showing the racing guide to the robot. “Just one good horse, that’s all I need. One long shot that’ll come through and make me millions.”

“I am sorry, Bobby Flynn, but the cardiac stone makes it difficult for me to re-programme certain files in my system. Your gambling logic to solve situations does not assist you in reaching the status that you crave. It would be best if you worked towards these goals.” R.I.C.K.I. responded.

“Agh!” Bobby grumbled, as he threw the racing guide down onto the table, spilling some of his water in the process, “What is it with you and that damn cardiac stone? I don’t even know what you’re talking about, but it’s clearly not good if you can’t help me with one simple race!”

“Good, Bobby Flynn?” R.I.C.K.I.’s robotic eyes blinked, as if Bobby had just made a ridiculous comment, “Good is all I am programmed to do.”

“Yes, I know. I know.” Bobby took a drink of his water, and winced. “There’s no taste to this! Can’t I have anything else? Surely a juice is healthy?”

The robot stopped its stitching. “Bobby Flynn, must you always complain? Our challenge is to make you more than what you are. That includes diet. Diet consists of any food or liquid consumption that occurs throughout a day. Juices from the majority of your juice companies have added sugar, which does not constitute a good diet. I explained yesterday that sugar in your diet will only…” Just then R.I.C.K.I. gave a concerned look and his eyes flashed green, as he scanned his room-mate.

“What are you doing?” Bobby asked, beginning to look worried, “Your eyes turned green, R.I.C.K.I. – what are you doing?”

“My scans have found greater levels of sugar in your bloodstream, Bobby Flynn.” The robot looked seriously at Bobby, who had his own look of concern. “Have you consumed a chocolate bar between one past four and ten past four this afternoon, Bobby Flynn?”

“Huh? You were scanning me?” Bobby feigned indignation, “You can’t just scan me without my permission!”

“You gave your permission when you asked me to assist you in becoming a hero. Two years ago you wanted me to scan you to see if your powers were able to be suppressed. You concluded that you would not use your powers ever again, even through my protestations. Then when you were attacked at the race track because of your gambling debts, you wanted me to assist in helping you control your powers. However, when I told you what it entailed, you gave up on the idea, preferring to live your life in seclusion. Last night upon seeing the feats of Citadel’s hero, Captain Thunder, you agreed to my guidance in making you a hero. You agreed to do whatever it took for you to reach the lofty heights of becoming a hero, which meant that you agreed to adhere to any changes I make in your life to work towards your betterment. So, Bobby Flynn, again I say: my scans have found greater levels of sugar in your bloodstream. Have you consumed a chocolate bar between one past four and ten past four this afternoon?”

Looking thoroughly chastised and realising that his protests were futile, Bobby confessed, “Okay, yes – yes, I had a Neptune chocolate bar during my break – so kill me!”

“I am sorry, Bobby Flynn, but ‘kill’ is not in my programming.” R.I.C.K.I. responded.

Bobby shook his head. “No, I meant that sarcastically.”

The robot paused for a seconds, as he computed the las t scenario. “I am sorry, Bobby Flynn, my programme finds it hard to register your ‘sarcasm’. I will learn this soon however. Thank you, Bobby Flynn.”

Bobby sighed once more, stood up from his seat at the table and made his way around to the couch. He watched R.I.C.K.I. for a short time, before asking, “What are you sewing?”

“A garment, Bobby Flynn,” the robot responded without looking. “It will hopefully assist in compelling you to be your best.”

“Oh,” Bobby grunted, without really understanding what R.I.C.K.I. was on about. Feeling uncomfortable with the silence, Bobby grabbed the television remote control off the side table and pressed the on button. Nothing happened. He sat up straighter, made a visible effort to line the controller up with the television and pressed the button several times, but there was no click or light to show that the control was doing its job. Feeling his frustration build, Bobby smacked the control several times into the palm of his hand, while rising from his seat, and then tried pressing the button again; the television’s blank screen continued to stare at him.

“What’s going on? I just put in new batteries last week!” Bobby shouted as he pulled the batteries out of the remote control to prove it. “How come it’s not working?”

“The television is working just fine, Bobby Flynn – it is you who is not working,” the robot said while continuing its stitching.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Bobby yelled, as he stormed over to the television and pressed the power button on the appliance. Nothing happened. It was then that he noticed several cords running from the television to the exercise bike he had purchased last year (and had only used twice). He walked over to the bike and then processed what he was seeing. “What the hell is this? There are cables leading from the exercise bike to the TV…” Bobby muttered with an angry undertone. He spun back to the robot and asked, “What did you do, R.I.C.K.I.?”

“I am glad you noticed, Bobby Flynn,” The robot said with a smile, “After our discussion last night, I had a busy day today. I have taken the liberty of remodelling your television so it only runs when you are cycling. I have also cleaned the kitchen and bedroom. Washed your dirty laundry and have dried, ironed and put them away. Your meals were also prepared earlier. You can preheat them at any time…”

“You what?” Bobby huffed, waving his hands in the air as he tried to comprehend the robot’s words.

“After our discussion last night, I had a busy day today. I have taken the liberty of remodelling your television so it only runs when you are cycling. I have also cleaned the kitchen and bedroom. Washed your dirty laundry and have dried…” The robot repeated, before being stopped by Bobby.

“Why would you do that to my TV?” Bobby moaned, “My TV is what I use to relax after a hard day at work! How am I meant to relax if I have to pedal to get it to work?”

“Our challenge is to make you more than what you are, Bobby Flynn. That includes exercise – exercise consists of cardiovascular activity that results from various forms of physical labour,” R.I.C.K.I. explained to his clearly upset room-mate. “If during the average ten hours, forty-six minutes and fifty-four seconds you spend sitting in front of the television set each day, was transferred to the amount of cycling you did per day, I calculate that your rather corpulent figure would reduce much more rapidly, so that you will be ready to use this…” R.I.C.K.I. lifted up the garment he was stitching.

“Is that a costume?” Bobby questioned, excitedly.

“It is not the uniform we spoke about last night; however it is a representation of the uniform that we spoke about, Bobby Flynn.” R.I.C.K.I. told him as he held it up. It was a black, one-piece uniform with a flaming cannonball stitched into its chest. “I have read that humans need to have a motivator to drive them towards their goals… this is yours, Bobby Flynn. If you are to be a hero, and use your powers for good, you must help yourself first; mentally, physically and spiritually. I will support you with this, Bobby Flynn. And once you have achieved this, I will create the actual uniform that we spoke about last night.”

Bobby took up the black costume and looked at the exercise bike, before turning back to the robot. “Okay, R.I.C.K.I., make me a hero.”

"Okay, R.I.C.K.I., make me a hero." [Image by Travis Berketa]

To continue the story, follow the link to:

Super Hero Chronicles - Citadel: Rise of the Heroes (Part 4)

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About the Creator

Travis Berketa

I am a father. I am a teacher. I am a writer.

I love reading fictional stories and I love writing fictional stories.

I hope you enjoy my contribution to Vocal.

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