Episode 11: Ms. Marvelous vs. Solar Flare

No one ever said life is fair. Take me, for example. I work a humble job as a computer analyst for a big company headquartered in downtown Megapolis. I’m underpaid and my boss doesn’t appreciate me. Sometimes, I feel like I am just a cog in the machine and that the world could get by just fine without me.

But I have another life, one far away from the apathy and backstabbing politics of corporate

America. It’s a life that was thrust upon me, but one that I, never the less, chose to live. I am a defender of the weak and a crusader for the helpless. I am a champion of justice. I am a superhero.

I am Ms. Marvelous!

I fight crime whenever and wherever I find it. I have been successful—I have put countless criminals in prison and saved countless innocent lives. I have destroyed drug rings and smashed extortion rackets. I am a guardian angel, protecting the citizens of this great city from the evil that lurks in the shadows. In return, the people look to me as their champion. They have befriended me. My red and black costume has become, to them, a symbol of hope in a world of despair. I am theirs and they are mine.

But no one ever said life is fair. Despite all my successes, all my victories and fame, I occasionally get the short end of the stick. Only a month ago, I was beaten by a small timer named Johnny Hawkeye, a villain that I should have been able to defeat easily. Weakened, my powers gone, I had been forced to lay helpless in a country barn, bound and humiliated, abandoned by my conqueror, without the strength to break the ropes that held me. I lay there, in the dirt, unable to free myself, for nearly a full day. As I lay there, hoping that someone would come by and find me, but hoping, too, out of embarrassment, that they would not, I could not help but think how unfair it all was.

It seems to me, sometimes, that I give so much and get so little in return. Every day I put my life at risk in the defense of the people of Megapolis. Every day I lay it on the line. And for what? So that my boss can yell at me for missing a day at work? “I was tied up in a barn, you idiot!” I wanted to yell at him. “I got my ass kicked trying to defend your city from a super-powered villain. I got beaten—raped—trying to protect you and the rest of your kind from a murderous psychopath!”

But, of course, I hadn’t yelled. I had simply lowered my eyes and allowed him to assault me with his verbal attack. It was par for the course, I suppose. Life isn’t fair. Sometimes you just have to lower your eyes and humbly take it on the chin.

It took time for my powers to fully return. Oh, my strength came back quickly enough. My power of flight, too. But my coordination seemed to be off. My concentration was nowhere to be found. I felt like a lumbering ox, plodding through life with little awareness of the things going on around me. It was the aftereffect of the Sartak, I knew. My body and mind had been sensually overloaded by Johnny. I had been subjected to a type of shock. It would take time for the shock to wear off.

But it eventually did. Three weeks after my disastrous encounter with Johnny in the barn, I was finally feeling good enough to again don the skin-tight costume of Ms. Marvelous and take flight over Megapolis. That first night I encountered a gang of four young toughs that were in the process of roughing up an elderly couple. I easily subdued them, giving them a bit more than they deserved, in fact. But the broken bones I inflicted on them did little to appease the frustration I felt inside.

In the coming nights, I continued to patrol but found little action. Still, getting back into my normal routine helped me to get back my coordination. I was feeling better, at least physically. Then, five weeks to the day since my encounter with Johnny Hawkeye, I decided to patrol over downtown. The night began well enough. The cool air invigorated me as I flew over the skyscrapers of the business district. The light of a half-moon shimmered off my smooth skin and blonde hair. I felt strong. I felt good.

I felt angry.

A dark rage still burned in my heart. I wanted nothing more than to find Johnny Hawkeye. I wanted to make him pay for what he had done to me. I was angry. I wanted action. I wanted combat.

But I did not find Johnny. Instead, I found another villain, one who’s heart burned just as hot as my own. He, too, had experienced the unfairness of life. He, too, had received the short end of the stick. His name was The Smasher and he was on a rampage.

I saw him from above—He stalked the main strip through downtown like a madman, sending waves of late-night revelers fleeing before him. His crimson body armor reflected in the lights of an oncoming police cruiser. To my surprise, the Smasher did not attempt to dodge the vehicle. Instead, he met it head on. The impact was jarring, more so for the occupants of the car than for the armored villain. The Smasher screamed in rage and lifted the front end of the cruiser off the ground. With a second scream he flipped the vehicle onto its side and sent it careening into a light pole at the side of the street. The sound of scraping metal and shattering glass filled the air.

“I’ll make you pay!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “I’ll make you all pay!”

I knew his name and his story. Everybody did. It had been all over the television and newspapers after a previous rampage only two days before. He was Howard Bilken, a once successful scientist that had encountered a run of bad luck. A master of molecular conversion, his body suits had earned him a reputation as the leader in his field. He worked for a private lab called Camtronics and sold his designs to the military. But it had all come to an unexpected end when it was revealed that his business partners had been selling the suits to terrorist groups. Bilken claimed innocence, but the media jumped all over him and his reputation was ruined.

Unable to find work, or at least unable to find work that paid well enough to support the lifestyle to which he was accustomed, Bilken became increasingly frustrated. Eventually, his mind snapped and he went insane. The mad scientist donned his greatest creation, a suit of nearly indestructible crimson body armor, and attacked the city. During his first rampage, Bilken used the suit to trash the Camtronics lab.

The police officers that tried to stop him found that their weapons were useless against the Smasher’s bulletproof armor. Bilken systematically knocked down walls and smashed everything in sight. No one was killed in the attack, but the lab was completely destroyed.

Now, here he was again, still fuming, still out for his revenge. But it was different this time. I was here. And I was pissed off. This would not be a pleasant encounter for Mr. Bilken.

“Ok, Bilken,” I said loudly as I touched down in front of him, “your little tantrum has done enough damage. It’s time for you to check out your new accommodations at the funny farm!”

“What?” he screamed. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? You’re against me, just like everyone else! But you’ll pay! You’ll all pay!”

He stepped toward me and threw a haymaker right at my head. I ducked under it but couldn’t help but notice the whistling sound his fist made as it cut through the air above me. The guy could obviously dish out some damage if he landed. I needed to be careful with him. He swung again, this time with the left. Again I avoided the blow. I countered by bringing my left knee up and smashing it into his gut. A double axe handle chop across the back of his head sent him to one knee. I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck with my left hand and the seat of his armored pants with my right. I spun around and hurled his body across the street. The Smasher flew through the air and over the sidewalk before smashing head first through the plate glass front window of a department store.

The sound of shattering glass mingled with the screams of people as they fled into the street to avoid falling shards of window. I paused long enough to curse myself. My anger had made me careless and innocent people had nearly been injured as a result. But to my relief, the people didn’t seem to care. Instead, they cheered me on.

“That’s the way, Ms. Marvelous!” “Get the creep!”

“Show him who’s the boss!”

The wave of people parted, allowing me clear access to the store. I walked to the window and stepped through, fully expecting to find an unconscious Smasher. Instead, all I got was a fist to the chops.

The force of the blow snapped my head back and sent me cartwheeling head over feet back into the street. I landed with a thud on the asphalt but was back on my feet quickly. The Smasher followed me out and we squared off in the middle of the four lane thoroughfare.

A crowd of cheering people surrounded us on all sides. Their shouts echoed between the skyscrapers that towered over the street. It was as if the Smasher and I were celebrated gladiators, facing

off inside an arena. For a moment, it made me sick to my stomach. Didn’t these people know the seriousness of it all? Didn’t they realize I was trying to protect them?

“Ten bucks on the red guy,” I overheard a voice behind me say. “I’ll take that action,” another voice answered.

“Give me some of that! Ms. Marvelous will kick his ass!”

“You crazy? Didn’t you see what the Smasher did to that police car? He’ll smash her, for sure!”

I wanted to yell at them, to tell them how foolish they were being. Why didn’t they run? Didn’t they realize that they could get hurt?

But I had more important things to deal with. The Smasher lunged at me, trying to get his super- powerful hands around my throat. I grabbed his wrists and we struggled, his strength against mine, my will against his. At first, it seemed that we were closely matched. But his strength was the result of bionic engineering. As fatigue seeped into my muscles, the Smasher’s fingers drew ever closer to my neck. At last, I could hold him off no longer and he locked his hands around my throat.

He lifted me off the ground by my neck, holding me above his chest, his fingers tightening their grip. His thumbs pressed down on my windpipe, cutting off my air. I gasped for oxygen but could get none. I pulled outward on his wrists but his fingers were like a steel vise. Finally, my lungs burning for air, I desperately tried a different tact. Using his hold on my neck as an anchor and gaining leverage from it, I pushed off on his chest with my left foot. As my body swung out and then back, I raised my right knee and slammed it into his face. The Smasher’s head snapped back and he snarled in rage.

“Do that again, bitch, and I’ll cause you some real pain!”

His threat was meaningless to me. If I didn’t get some air soon, I would be finished. I pushed off again and smashed him in the kisser a second time with my knee. The blow caught him just under the jaw and once again his head snapped back.

The Smasher’s suit included full head and face protection. Slits in the armor revealed his eyes and mouth, but I wasn’t sure if the blows I was landing were doing any real damage. On the verge of unconsciousness, I figured I would try one last time. The third blow landed squarely and hard. The sound of the impact resounded above the shouts of the spectators. The Smasher fell backward, releasing me as he did so. I fell to my feet, then slumped to a knee. I hungrily gulped down some air.

“Lose your grip, Bilken?” I asked in disgust. “Why don’t you try again?”

He roared in anger and rushed me. He reached out with his hands, wanting to get them around my neck again. I allowed him to get close, then grabbed him by the wrists and rolled backward, puling him with me. I raised my feet under his torso and pushed off, sending him spiraling into the side of a delivery truck. He bounced off and fell heavily to the pavement, leaving a large dent in the side panel of the truck.

“You’ll pay for that!” he growled as he got to his feet.

“Yeah, yeah,” I answered sarcastically. “We’ll all pay. So you’ve said.”

He charged me again, coming on like an enraged rhino. At the last moment I stepped to my right and stuck out my foot, tripping him up. He fell to the ground in a heap. I snapped a kick to his ribs. As he tried to rise, I kicked his left foot out from under him and he fell onto his butt. A front thrust kick to his head sent him somersaulting across the asphalt.

“You fucking bitch!” he roared in frustration. “I’ll kill you! I’ll Kill you!”

“For a scientist,” I replied calmly, “you have a really foul mouth. I guess I’m going to have to teach you some manners.”

I flew at him just as he got back to his feet. I tackled him solidly and we went to the ground, me on top. I hammered him with a right, then a left. A palm strike under his chin snapped his head back and bounced it off the pavement. But the Smasher was tough—A clubbing left to the side of my head knocked me off of him and sent me rolling across the street.

I rolled into a crouch and waited for him to attack. The Smasher got to his feet and charged me. I dodged to the left, easily avoiding his clumsy attempt to kick me, then countered with a well-timed leg sweep. He landed with a thud on his back and I followed up on my advantage by kneeling over him and driving a chop to his neck.

But the Smasher’s body armor was difficult to penetrate. Made of a solid material that was similar to heavy rubber in appearance and form, and layered for extra protection, the suit seemed to

absorb most of the impact of my blows. Large ridges and grooves in the suit made the surface rough, but also highly flexible. I learned this the hard way, as the Smasher was able to shrug off my strike to his throat and answer by bringing his right knee up and clipping me in the temple.

I fell heavily to the street, dazed by the powerful blow. The Smasher stood and leaned over my legs. He grabbed my left ankle in his powerful hands and lifted me up by it. He spun around in a circle twice, carrying me with him, then let go of my ankle. The centrifugal momentum carried my body across the street and I hurtled into the side of a city bus.

The impact was bruising. For a brief moment, I hung suspended above the ground, my aching form wedged into the crushed metal of the bus’s side panel. Then gravity took over, pulling me to the pavement four feet below. I landed on my stomach, feeling as if the bus had run me over. As if in unison, the crowd of spectators gasped, sure that I was beaten. But I surprised them all and maybe even surprised myself. I rose to my feet and looked back at the Smasher.

“Is that all you got?” I shouted in defiance. “I’ve been hit harder by my kid sister!”

Looking back on it, I know it was a stupid thing to say, especially since I don’t even have a kid sister. But it was all I could think of at the time—I guess I’ll have to work on my witty superhero repartee. In any case, my taunt seemed to affect the Smasher in the way that I had hoped-- The man was absolutely fuming. He let out a scream of rage and charged me. He held his arms out wide in an attempt to prevent me from dodging to the side. But he had forgotten that my power of flight gives me the ability to use all three of the dimensions. Just before he got to me, I took to the air and he passed harmlessly under me.

The bus shook as the Smasher slammed head first into its side. The windows shattered and chunks of glass cascaded to the street. Bilken rebounded off the big vehicle and wobbled on unsteady feet. I figured I could finish him off if I acted quickly. Moving in on him from behind, I wrapped my arms around his waist and lifted him off the ground. I leaned backward and then to the side, slamming him to the hard pavement of the street with a belly to back suplex. I picked him up again, this time gorilla pressing him over my head. I held him there for a long moment, showing off a bit for the crowd, then slammed him back down with everything I had.

“The body armor is impressive, Bilken,” I said casually. “But you’re still just a geek in a rubber suit to me.”

I took a step and kicked him in the ribs. His groaned and rolled onto his side, in a fetal position. Apparently, my blows were finally having some effect. Most of crowd cheered as it appeared that I would be victorious, but I could hear a few sighs of disappointment. Some people were losing their bets, I thought with satisfaction.

Suddenly, the crowd went silent. I looked up just in time to see a slender figure enter our

impromptu combat arena. To my surprise, this newcomer’s arrival was no less dramatic than my own had been. She descended out of the night sky and touched down in front of me. She was garbed in a bright yellow, skin-tight, costume. Blue boots rose from her feet to half way up her thighs. A golden rope or lariat of some kind hung from a clasp on her right hip. A blue mask adorned her face, though I figured it was more of a fashion statement than a disguise, as it did little to hide her attractive features.

The newcomer stood only slightly shorter than my own five foot nine inch height. Her blonde hair shimmered in the lights of the street. I guessed that she was about the same age as me, or perhaps slightly younger. She was a superhero or villain, obviously, but I had never seen her before.

“If you’re here to help,” I said while standing over the beaten Smasher, “you’re a little late. But thanks anyway.”

“I would say that I got here just in time,” she answered with a smile. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Who are you?”

The yellow clad woman seemed surprised. “Don’t you know me, Ms. Marvelous? No, what am I thinking? Of course you wouldn’t know me. We’ve never actually met, after all. But I know you. You’re my old pen-pal.”

“Pen-pal?” I asked in astonishment. “I’m sure that you are mistaken. I’ve never had a pen-pal.”

The woman frowned, apparently disappointed that I did not know her. “Are you sure that you don’t know me, Jody?”

She said my name silently, mouthing the word with her lips so that the people surrounding us

could not hear. But the meaning came across loud and clear. This woman knew my real name! “How?” I wondered. How could this stranger know my secret identity as Jody Walker?

An ugly thought came into my head. “Agent 009?” I asked hesitantly.

“Bingo!” she shouted out with a smile. “But you can call me by my codename—Solar Flare!”

She leapt at me, flying through the air feet first and quickly crossing the five yards of street that had separated us. I dodged too late—Her right foot caught me solidly on the shoulder and I was knocked backwards. I landed hard and tumbled twice before coming to a rest in the gutter on the far side of the street.

“You didn’t really think the Program had forgotten about you, did you Ms. Marvelous?” she said as she landed lightly next to my fallen form. “Your victory over Tommy-Z served only to convince the Council that they want you back. They gave the job of capturing you to me. Not a bad first assignment, if you ask me.”

Solar Flare grabbed a fist full of my hair and hauled me up onto my feet. She slammed the knuckles of her right hand into my stomach. I grunted in pain as she did it a second time. “I enjoyed reading your letters, by the way. Panther edited out certain sections, but still, they were quite

informative. I hope you find me to be a worthy student.”

Maintaining her grip on my hair with her left hand, Solar Flare leaned over and ran her right forearm between my legs. She picked me up and then body slammed me down across the concrete curb of the street with incredible force. I was stunned. My back felt as if it were shattered. I could do nothing as she knelt beside me and hammered her left fist down on my chest. The blow nearly did me in. I teetered on the edge of consciousness, completely unable to defend myself.

I rolled onto my side and groaned. Solar Flare stood over me, smiling evilly. “You might as well give up, now, ‘J’,” she said with a sneer. “Your pathetic powers are no match for mine. I’m stronger than you. I’m faster. And, of course, I know your weakness. Not that I need it to beat you—But it might be fun. Yes, now that I think about it, I almost hope that you do continue to resist. I will take great pleasure in defeating you in a more, um… thorough way.”

A second set of feet approached and stood next to those of Solar Flare. I looked up to see an angry Smasher glaring down at me.

“Who are you?” he asked the woman in yellow.

“Not that it is any of your business,” she responded tersely, “but I’m Solar Flare.”

The Smasher kicked me stiffly in the ribs, knocking me back into the gutter. “You sure did a number on this bitch,” he said with a laugh.

“You should thank me. I saved your ass.”

“Screw that!” he growled. “I had her just where I wanted her!”

“You wanted Ms. Marvelous smashing your face in?” she asked with a giggle. “I’ll make her pay! I’ll make them all pay!”

The Smasher kicked me again, savagely, but I was done just taking it. Using my flying power to launch me off the ground, I streaked upward, whacking him under the chin with my forearm as I passed by. The blow lifted him off his feet and knocked him backward. He landed hard on his back, arms and feet flailing.

“Good!” Solar Flare shouted toward me as I hovered above them. “You have some fight left in you after all!”

The Smasher wasn’t so pleased. He glared at me as he rose to his feet. “Come down and fight like a man, you bitch!” he screamed. I wanted to ram the words down his throat, but I knew that Solar Flare was the greater danger. Her previous attack had been savage and she had trashed me quickly. I

tended, now, to believe that she was stronger than me. But I’m a skilled fighter and had no intention of giving up—She would have to prove that she could beat me.

I considered the irony of the situation. Agent 009—Solar Flare—and I had indeed been pen-pals of a sort. Not that she had ever written me, for certainly the Council would not have allowed it, but I had written and sent Flare a series of letters dealing with my adventures on the outside. Panther, my old boss at the Program, had suggested it. Agent 009 was the only female in the Compound, he had said, and it would do her good to have a role model.

Maybe he was sincere at the time, I don’t know. But my relations with the Program quickly disintegrated—After my encounter with Tommy-Z, I had stopped writing the letters. The Program, and the agents it created, were now my enemies. But Solar Flare had read enough. She knew me. She knew my fighting style. How ironic that I had been the one to provide her with the information. I was not her role model—I was her assignment.

But there was no point in worrying about the past, I decided. The letters were no substitute for real experience. Agent 009 had been living a secluded life in the Compound-- if this really was her first assignment, as she had suggested, then she would find out the hard way just how tough the outside world can be.

I considered flying to a more secluded location. Not that I was thinking of running. I had plenty of fight left in me and was anxious to confront Flare. But there were too many people here. Even now, the size of the crowd was growing. The spectators to this super-powered battle were cheering and hooting, anxious to see more mayhem. They failed to realize the danger they were in. At any moment, I worried, my struggle against Flare and the Smasher could turn truly ugly and cause injuries to the innocent bystanders.

I figured Solar Flare would use her power of flight to follow me if I took off. But the Smasher would be left behind, left to continue his rampage. If anything, he seemed more agitated now than he had been before. With all the people nearby, I had little doubt but that he would take his anger out on innocents. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to stay and fight here, on the street.

“Don’t underestimate me, Flare,” I shouted down at her. “I’ve got some tricks left up my sleeve and I have no intention of going back with you! As for you, Smasher, I’m going to make you wish you had never gotten out of bed this morning.”

My bravado was compelling, but honestly, I didn’t know how I was going to beat two such powerful foes. Still, I’ve been up against the numbers before and come out on top. I would find a way.

I rocketed toward Flare, my arms extended out in front of me, my fists clenched. At the last moment she went airborne herself, rising over me and avoiding my attack. But I had expected her to do just this. The real target of my charge was left grounded, surprised and open.

I slammed into the Smasher’s chest with everything I could muster. The force of the blow was awesome. My fists dug into the pliable material of his body armor and drove him backward. His body hurled away from me, flying through the air. Spectators scrambled to get out of the way as the Smasher sailed just over their heads. His body impacted on the sidewalk bordering the far side of the street and bounced once, then twice, then a third time, before finally coming to a rest at the base of the department store wall.

I continued my flight, arching upward and doing a half roll so that I was again streaking straight for Solar Flare. She was hovering fifteen feet above the street, waiting for me. She dodged my first attack and we began a dangerous dance in the air, weaving this way and that, each trying to gain the advantage. This was a first for me, fighting an airborne opponent, and I was sure that it was for her, as well. Like two World War II fighter planes, we looped and rolled, trying to get behind the other, trying to line up a clean shot. Flare was fast and nimble, but I had greater experience in the air—Gradually, I positioned myself so that I had the advantage.

Remembering the old fighter pilot’s dictate that altitude is life, I arched my back and performed an inverted roll that left me above her. Flare made a move to the left but I guessed correctly that it was a feint. She turned sharply to the right in an effort to lose me, but the move forced her to take her eyes off of me for a moment. It was all the opportunity that I needed. As her head turned and she tried to pick me up over her opposite shoulder, I dove in on her blind side and clipped her with a savage forearm to the back of her neck.

Flare grunted in pain and was propelled earthward. At the last moment, she tried to regain control of her flight but it was too late. The street rushed up and smacked her hard. She tumbled, then lay quietly on the asphalt, apparently stunned.

I descended and landed next to her. I flipped her over onto her stomach, then pulled her hands behind her back. I kneeled on top of her, putting my right knee across her wrists to secure them. I reached around her head and wrapped my hands under her chin. I pulled back with considerable strength, pulling her head back and arching her spine. Flare groaned in pain as I locked in my hold.

“It’s over Flare. Give me any more trouble and I’ll snap your back like a twig.”

Solar Flare struggled for a moment before relaxing in resignation. She had gone through the same martial arts training back at the Program that I had. She knew it was practically impossible to escape from the hold I had placed her in.

“What are you going to do to me?” she sputtered through clenched teeth.

“The Megapolis Police MCT should be here any moment. I’m sure they will be very interested in talking to you.”

“The MCT?”

“Mutant Capture Team. They’re equipped to handle super-powered creeps like you.”

Flare wasn’t pleased. “Panther will have me out in no time, you stupid bitch! I’m a government

agent!”

I grimaced. Panther was the leader of the Program-X team. The mention of his name brought

back a lot of bad memories. “True, but you’re a Program-X agent, remember? Super-secret, and all that stuff? Panther will have to find a way to get you out without giving away the Program’s existence. And after this little fiasco, in front of all these people, that may be easier said than done. Your stay in jail could be a lot longer than you think. You screwed up big time, girl.”

She struggled again, squirming in an attempt to break free. “You’re the one that screwed up, Ms.

Marvelous!” She said my name mockingly. “Leaving the Program was a mistake. The Council doesn’t accept mistakes. They want you back. They’ll keep sending agents until they get you. You may have beaten me, but you can’t beat us all!”

I laughed, trying to sound confident. “I beat Tommy—He was their best. Now I’ve beaten you.

I’ll be able to handle anything the Program sends my way. I have to admit that I am curious, though. Why did they send you, Flare? Why did they send a rookie? Surely they knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against me?”

The question infuriated Solar Flare and she struggled beneath my weight, trying to break free. A quick backward tug on her head caused her to cry out in pain and ended her resistance. “It’s not over between us. I may be a rookie, but I’m the best the Program has. No jail can hold me. I’ll be back, ‘J’!”

Her reference to my initial, ‘J’, was an obvious reminder that she knew my identity. It was also an overt threat that she would reveal it if I didn’t let her go. But the threat was mostly empty.

“The Program is just as secretive as I am, 009—more so, in fact. They have always known that I am Ms. Marvelous. They could have revealed my true identity at any time. But they know that fire begets fire. I can just as easily reveal information about them. The identities of their agents, the assignments they have been involved with, all the illegal stuff they have done, the trouble they have caused-- It’s a two-edged sword that neither of us really want to play with. So they have always respected my privacy and I have respected theirs. It’s a gentlemen’s agreement that I don’t think you really want to break.”

Her lack of response indicated that she knew I was right. If she revealed that Ms. Marvelous was really Jody Walker, she would be taking on more trouble than she would be able to handle. The Council still considered Ms. Marvelous to be one of their agents—a rogue agent, certainly, but an agent never the less—and if Flare were to reveal my identity then she would be revealing the existence of the Program itself. It was the greatest possible transgression that a Program-X agent could commit.

It amazed me that Flare had been as careless as she had. The Program almost always operates in the background, in the shadows where it is possible to avoid detection. To brazenly attack me if the middle of a downtown street, in front of dozens of spectators, was not their preferred style. Even had Solar Flare been able to beat me, I suspected, the Council would not have been pleased with her performance. Ah, well—I chalked it up to the inexperience of youth.

I reminded myself that the girl under my knee was not much younger than my own twenty-two years of age. In a way, I sympathized with her. After all, we shared many of the same experiences. We had both been treated with the Caantonium Serum. We had both gone through the tortuous changes that it caused to our cellular structure. We had both been rigorously trained as Program-X agents. But I had eventually seen the Program for it what it was—a merciless organization that callously did whatever it thought was necessary to defend the interests of the United States, even if it meant trampling on the

rights of the very people it was supposed to be defending. It was not the type of organization with which I wanted to be associated. Never once have I regretted leaving.

Principles aside, the catalyst for my departure from the Program had been the sudden and unexpected death of Agent 003. The only other female agent in the Program, at the time, Agent 003 had been killed when she took a lover, or so we were told. In fact, I later learned, she had been raped and killed by Tommy-Z. But in any case, the incident had pointed out the great Achilles Heel of female agents—Those of us treated with the Caantonium Serum become vulnerable to the Sartak, a type of system shock that overcomes us when we are sensually stimulated. At the least, the Sartak can steal our powers and make us weak. At the most, it can kill us outright.

For some unknown reason, the Sartak does not affect the male agents. The Council decided that it could not risk having any more women in the Program, especially since they would never be safe as long as Tommy was around. I had become isolated—a member of the team but not really a member.

Eventually, disillusioned and alone, I had departed in a search to find a way to put my powers to a better use.

That search had ended when I found Megapolis. I became Ms. Marvelous. The rest is history. But now, I was confused. The Council had originally decided not to recruit any additional female agents. But here, under the weight of my right knee, was agent 009, a woman. What had caused them to change their minds, I wondered?

“I’m curious, Flare-- How did you get into the Program in the first place? The last I heard, the Council wasn’t recruiting any more women. What makes you so special?”

Solar Flare snickered. “I’d say you have more immediate concerns to worry about, Ms.

Marvelous!”

“Wha--?” I looked up just in time to see a rejuvenated Smasher charging me at full speed. Damn! I had allowed myself to become so involved in my own introspection that I had completely forgotten about the rampaging scientist. As he approached, Bilken wound up and delivered a crushing right to the bridge of my nose. The chin lock I had applied to Solar Flare was broken and I crashed backward onto the street.

The Smasher fell on top of me, raining punches down on my shoulders and head. I covered up as best I could, using my arms to block most of the blows. The Smasher’s body armor made him strong and dangerous, but he was still basically a nerdy lab rat that had never been trained in the athletic disciplines. His fighting technique was clumsy and left him off balance. With a quick flexing of my powerful legs, I lifted him off of me and sent him head over heels to the ground.

I rolled to my right and rose into a crouch. A side thrust kick nailed him in the kidney area and sent him tumbling. I stood and squared my feet. As the Smasher dragged himself up, I centered myself in front of him and let go with a mule kick to his chest. The Smasher was lifted off the ground by the blow and flew backward. He crashed to the ground ten feet away, at the feet of Solar Flare.

The crowd of people were cheering as the action again heated up. It was two against one, but from the sound of their voices I could tell that they were now picking me to win. And why not? I had done pretty well up until this point.

Though Solar Flare and the Smasher were strangers to one another, they seemed perfectly willing to join forces against their common foe. Flare helped the armored man to his feet, then whispered something into his ear. The Smasher pondered what she was saying, for a moment, then smiled. The look in his eyes seemed to change. The rage that had burned there was replaced with something else, something like lust. The fierce grimace he had worn changed into a lurid sneer. He looked me up and down evilly, as if noticing for the first time that I was a beautiful, scantily clad, woman. I felt dirty, as if I were being assaulted by his eyes. They took in my long, lightly tanned legs. He scanned across my hips and over my bare abdomen. His eyes paused for a long moment on my breasts, as if he were examining them. Eventually, his eyes continued upward, finally locking with my own. The Smasher flicked his tongue at me as if hinting at what he really wanted to do with it.

I was disgusted. It was clear to me that Solar Flare had told the Smasher my weakness. She had told him that it was the key to defeating me. She had told him to rape me. But it wouldn’t happen. I would not let it happen. I would take them both down. One at a time, or both at once. It didn’t matter.

But not here. Not with so many people close by. Not with so many people at risk. I had to take the fight off the street. I had to take it elsewhere.

“Officer!” I cried out to one of the policemen that had crawled out of the overturned cruiser. “I’m taking this into the department store. Keep the people back. Keep them away from the danger!”

He nodded toward me and raised his radio to his lips. I heard him giving the command, requesting that additional police move in and block off the sidewalk. The cops looked pleased to be doing something other than watching. Maybe they were helpless to take down two super-powered villains, but they could hold back the spectators.

I raised my arm over my head and took to the air, quickly gaining altitude. I went for the top floor of the store, five stories up. I was confident that my two foes would follow—Solar Flare because she needed to prove that she could complete her mission, and the Smasher because he needed to fulfill the lustful fantasy that had been planted in his crazed mind by Flare. As I drew level with the fifth floor I paused and looked back. Solar Flare was hot on my heels. To my surprise, she carried the Smasher along for the ride. I had expected that he would make his own way inside the store, starting from the street level, and that I would have a minute or two to take on Flare alone. Oh well, the best-laid plans and all that.

I turned for the store and propelled myself forward through the air. I crashed through the double-paned glass panels of the building and continued inside, looking for a clear section of floor on which to make my stand. Small ceiling lights cast a dim glow across racks of clothing and accessories. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I discovered that the fifth floor of the department store housed the sporting goods section. An area for trying on sneakers was off to the right, golf equipment to the left. Winter sports was farther inside, and a large island of bicycles and accessories occupied much of the middle. It was behind one of these racks that I finally touched down.

I peeked out between the spokes of a mountain bike toward the hole in the window. Sure enough, Solar Flare and the Smasher soon passed through. She flew gracefully even while carrying the extra load. I admired her strength and considered again that we were much alike. We were both blonde, both lithe and athletic. She was slightly shorter than I, but otherwise our proportions were almost identical. Her yellow and blue costume shimmered even in the dim light of the store. Like my own red and black, it was made from a fabric of unstable molecules that was highly resistant to tearing and other forms of damage. I could guess that, like me, she possessed a degree of invulnerability that protected her from injury. Like me, she was strong and fast. Even our special powers were the same—The Caantonium treatments had provided us both with the ability to fly.

But that was the extent of the similarities, I knew. I had encountered Flare for the first time only minutes before, but I knew her like I know the back of my hand. She possessed the same wicked selfishness that seems to characterize so many of the villains I come up against. Her callous disregard for the safety of innocents proved it. Sure, she had been given an assignment. Sure, she needed to take me back. But if she had been anything like me, she would have helped make sure that the rampaging Smasher was no longer a threat to anyone before squaring off against me. She would have put the interests of American citizens before the so-called interests of America.

But Flare wasn’t like me. She was evil. She was committed to the philosophy of the Council, the same philosophy that Tommy-Z followed. And as with Tommy, bringing me back wasn’t merely an assignment. Tommy had been motivated by his hatred of me and all women. Flare was motivated just as strongly by her need to prove herself to be the best. Maybe it was because we were both women. I don’t know. But she needed to prove that she was better than me. To herself, to the world—Solar Flare needed to prove that she was better than Ms. Marvelous.

They set down just inside the broken window, pieces of shattered glass crunching under their feet. The Smasher took the point, striding purposefully down the center aisle of the store. He passed by within three feet of me, on the other side of the bike rack, apparently unaware of my presence. But my hiding spot was not as good as I thought. As I stepped around the end of the rack to clock him, he suddenly raised his arm and blocked my blow.

He countered with a straight right that nailed me solidly in the center of my chest. The blow forced me back a couple of steps and gave the Smasher time to plan his next move. Reaching across my body and grabbing my right arm in his right hand, he pulled me toward him and spun me around so that

my back was to him. He wrapped his arms under my own and then reached up and over the back of my neck, placing me in a pretty good full-nelson hold. I grunted in pain as his hands pushed down on the back of my head.

The Smasher was strong--the pressure on my neck and spine was horrific. He shook me from side to side, increasing the pressure and trying to make me submit. But the Smasher was an inept wrestler. Although the hold was hurting me, I could tell that he had forgotten to lock the fingers of his hands together. I knew that his failure to lock the hold in might give me the opportunity I needed to escape.

I arched my back and stood as straight as I could. Moving quickly, I raised my arms above my head and twisted my body to the left. I reached back with my hands and got them around the back of the Smasher’s head. I raised my right leg off the ground and extended it out in front of me. I swung it quickly downward and behind me, using it as a pendulum to give me additional leverage and strength. I leaned forward and pulled down on his head with everything I could muster. As I had hoped, the Smasher came off the floor and was carried over my back. He flipped and landed at my feet, more surprised than hurt.

I rammed a forearm into the back of his head and then stepped back. I rubbed my aching neck with my hands and prepared for his next attack. He was back on his feet quickly. Stepping toward me, the Smasher unleashed a torrent of wild punches, none of which landed. When he paused to take a deep breath, I drilled him with a standing side thrust kick that knocked him backward.

I followed up on my advantage, landing a left jab and a right uppercut. A powerful shot to his gut seemed to take some of the fight out of him. Holding him at bay with my right hand, I turned to look over my shoulder for Flare. I didn’t want her sneaking up behind me. I was surprised to see her standing off to the side, smiling and apparently content to let Smasher do all the dirty work.

I returned my attention to the Smasher, intent on finishing him off. But to my dismay, he still had some fight left in him. With unexpected speed he reached out with his left hand and grasped me around the throat. His grip was powerful. I grasped his wrist in my hands, trying to break free, but he

didn’t give me a chance. Still using just the one hand, the Smasher picked me up so that my feet dangled off the ground. I looked into his eyes with surprise, once again amazed at the strength of Bilken’s body armor. He looked back, showing me the same sneer he had given me on the street. I have to admit that the burning lust I saw in his eyes frightened me. This man didn’t just want to beat me. He wanted to conquer me thoroughly.

He choke slammed me to the floor with such force that the bicycles in the rack shook and rattled. The floor was covered with a thin layer of old carpet but was concrete underneath. Pain stabbed through my back and the air was knocked from my lungs. I lay there, momentarily stunned, trying to regain my breath. He fell on top of me, straddling my body with his full weight, a leg on either side of my hips. My own legs were pinned beneath him, straight and pressed against the floor. My arms were free, but temporarily useless.

The Smasher grinned down at me, pleased that things were finally going his way. His earlier rampage was forgotten. His anger at the world was, for the moment, put aside. His crazed mind now had a single, new, objective. He wanted to rape Ms. Marvelous.

His hands pawed roughly at my breasts. Luckily for me, this geek had apparently had as little practice in the sensual arts as he’d had in physical combat. His technique was poor, as if he’d never

touched a woman before. Still, the ultra-thin fabric of my costume provided little protection as he ran his hands over my chest. The rough, grooved material of his armored gloves rubbed across my nipples, enticing them to react. My mind, still dazed from the choke slam, was victimized by thoughts of what would happen if I did not get out from under my attacker—The thoughts of this utter defeat, racing through my mind almost as if an erotic fantasy, did more to distract and arouse me than did the actual

touch of the Smasher’s fingers.

I struggled to regain my breath. My back ached. For the moment, I was helpless to prevent the Smasher from running his armored fingers over my swelling nipples. He glared down at me, his thin lips forming a sick smile. His eyes were wide and excited—I could tell he was really getting into this. The idea of molesting a scantily clad super-heroine was turning him on. I moaned softly. Blood rushed into my breasts, making them swell and grow firm under his touch. Despite his inept technique, my body was

reacting to his assault in the way that he hoped. I was becoming stimulated. I was growing weak. I was losing my will to resist. I felt my pussy becoming warm and moist.

I knew I had to do something. I had to get the Smasher off of me. I appraised the situation. I was flat against the floor, but this could provide me with the solid base I needed to leverage my remaining strength. I prepared for the effort, forcing my knees up slightly so that I could get the soles of my boots

planted on the floor. I reached down and put my hands on my opponent’s thighs. My plan was simple. I would push upward with my legs, then use my arms to take the Smasher up and over me. He was already leaning forward so that he could work over my breasts. I didn’t think it would be too difficult to make him lose his balance and push him off of me. I took a deep breath and gathered my strength. It was now or never—

Suddenly, an unseen hand picked my feet off the floor. My leverage was lost and my attempt to push the Smasher off fizzled. I felt something being wrapped around my ankles and lower legs. I didn’t have to be a genius to know that it was Solar Flare’s golden rope. The hand dropped my legs back to the floor. I struggled against the rope, trying to break free. It was hopeless. It occurred to me that the rope was probably made of the same material as our costumes. My heart sank. If I was right, and if it was constructed from unstable molecules, then I would have no chance of breaking free.

The Smasher continued to fondle my breasts, and although his technique was poor, my body was really beginning to react. Blood rushed into my size thirty-fours, further enlarging and firming them. My nipples were beginning to jut, pointing upward toward the ceiling like small points. My legs fell flat against the floor. An involuntary moan escaped my lips. I knew I had to do something quickly or the situation might get out of control.

Grabbing his wrists in my hands, I forced his paws away from my breasts. We struggled, but he was strong and had the leverage. His position above me allowed him to use his body weight to further control me. In seconds, his hands were back on top of me, roughly grasping at my chest. The fingers of his left hand managed to clasp onto my right nipple. He pinched down hard, hurting me and causing me to cry out in pain, but also causing my nipple to swell and stand at attention. I continued to hold onto his wrists, but my strength was beginning to fade and I was now doing little to prevent him from pursuing his task.

“Ah!” he exclaimed joyfully. “So you like it rough, do you? Well, then, try this!”

He pinched down on my left nipple this time, again causing me to cry out. Both of my nipples were like hard marbles, now, reacting to each touch of his armored fingers with a wave of sensation that swept through my body like a lightning bolt. My hands fell to floor and I moaned softly. I looked up through half-open eyes and saw Solar Flare standing above us, on my left side. She was looking down on me as if greatly fascinated by the act being played out before her. Oh, god, I thought. Even if I find a way to escape from the Smasher, how can I possibly get past this other opponent?

But I knew that I had to try. Already, the Sartak was beginning to wrap my body within its velvety embrace. I could not allow it to grow stronger. I had to break loose from the sinister grip of the Smasher.

Forcing my mind to focus, I directed my gaze away from Flare and back to the more immediate problem. The Smasher’s body armor was solid looking. Every part of his body was entirely protected. I had learned from our battle on the street that the suit was able to absorb most of the impact of my blows. If I were going to beat him, truly and finally, I had to find a weak spot.

Ignoring the sensations emanating from my abused breasts, I studied the suit more closely. The guy has to have a way to get in and out of that thing, I decided. And he probably isn’t the type of guy that has someone at home to zip him up. Could there be a fastener of some kind in front? Then I saw it.

Though well-hidden in the conflux of ridges and grooves that made up the rough surface of the suit, a single seam peeked through that ran the entire length of the torso, from the top of the neck down to the crotch. Could this be the weakness in the suit?

I knew I had to try something. My breasts were now fully engorged. I looked down at them, amazed that the swollen mounds I saw could really belong to me. My hard nipples pointed skyward through the sheer, skin-tight fabric of my costume. Each touch of the Smasher’s fingers sent a new wave of sensations burning through my body.

Bilken was a quick learner. Though his technique still lacked finesse, he was coming to understand which movements were the most effective. By noticing what caused me to moan, what caused me squirm, and what caused me to squeal, he had gotten to the point where he could repeat the movements, even mix and match them, to great effect. As I watched, he grasped almost the entirety of each breast in his hands. He roughly squeezed down with his fingers, testing the firmness of my fruit.

Pushing inward from the outside, he mashed my aching tits together and formed a distinct cleavage in the middle of my chest. He pushed again, forcing my squashed boobs high on my chest. He leaned in close with his face and flicked his tongue across my aching nipples. I moaned loudly. Bilken liked the sound so he repeated the entire process a second time.

It was hard to know how much time had passed since I first led my opponents into the department store. But I figured that I had been under the hands of the Smasher for at least four minutes. The Sartak was growing inside me. My strength was fading. My hands lay limp at my sides. My legs,

pinned to the floor under Bilken’s weight and bound by Flare’s lariat, felt distant and unresponsive. I moaned again as Bilken’s tongue danced across my swollen nipples. Deep inside me, a powerful orgasm began to grow. Should it reach its zenith, I knew, I would fall into shock and be utterly helpless to defend myself.

Another minute passed. Bilken removed his armored gloves and now his bare fingers rubbed and caressed my breasts, sending wave after wave of unwanted pleasure through my limp form. I tried to focus. I had to ignore the rough breast massage that was being inflicted on me and concentrate on the matter of escape. I worked up my strength. I lifted my head. As Bilken leaned forward to lick my nipples yet again, I reached to his chest and grabbed at the seam of his body suit. My nipples screamed in unwanted ecstasy as he tasted my fruit. My focus was lost. My hands fell back to the floor. My head fell back and rested on the carpet. I was defeated. This geek-- this pathetic, mad, scientist geek who had probably never had a woman in his life—this geek Howard Bilken was going to have me.

The thought appalled me. “I’ll be damned if Ms. Marvelous is going to be your first time,” I said under my breath. I reached for the seam again. Scratching madly at it, I finally got my fingers around something solid. I pulled at it with both hands, using every bit of strength I could muster from my weakening body.

“What are you doing, bitch!” Bilken shouted. He raised his right fist to strike me, but it was too late. The sound of ripping fabric filled the spacious surroundings of the sporting goods department.

Sparks cascaded from the hole that I had torn as several cybernetic wires were exposed and made contact with one another. Bilken’s right arm jerked madly about, no longer under his control. Unable to follow through with his intended punch, Bilken stared in disbelieving astonishment at his flailing hand, then at the hole in his armor.

“What have you done?” he screamed at me. “What have you done to my beautiful suit?” “Not as much as I am going to do to you!” I replied in anger. Raising my hands over my head, I

locked my fingers together to form a single, big, fist. I brought the blow down with everything I had and delivered a crushing hammer strike to the Smasher’s unprotected chest. He somersaulted backward off of me, landing hard at the base of some golfing equipment. I rolled onto my left side, then slowly rose to my knees. I struggled to my feet. With my ankles bound together it was hard to maintain my balance while standing, so I used my flying power to lift me slightly off the ground.

I glided toward Bilken and was surprised to see him getting up. I had delivered him a crushing blow. Blood flowed from his mouth. His left leg dragged noticeably behind him. His right arm still quivered, but had stopped flailing. In all, he now looked like the pathetic loser he really was. With his left hand, he reached up to his head. He flicked a hidden switch, then reached around and pulled the armored mask from his face. He flung it to the ground, nearly falling as he did so. He was beaten, but his eyes still burned. The hatred I saw there was like a smoldering inferno.

He reached across to a nearby rack and came back with a five iron. He stepped toward me a swung it for my head. I easily avoided the blow, then knocked the club from his hand. I grabbed him by his neck with my right hand and his crotch with my left.

“I’ve had enough of you, Bilken!” I said coldly as I lifted him off the ground. I flung him toward the broken window. Bilken screamed in terror as he approached the shattered glass panel. He landed at

its base, on the floor, and slid through the hole. His left hand barely managed to grab hold of the lip as his body fell over the edge.

I walked to the window and looked down at him. He hung there precariously, literally hanging on by his fingertips. I considered stepping on those fingers. The world would probably be a better place without Howard Bilken.

He could tell what I was thinking. “Oh, god, no!” he pleaded. “We’re on the fifth floor! You can’t do this! Please!”

His begging only angered me more. I wanted to squash this worm. I wanted to rid the world forever of his raving madness—But I couldn’t. I’m Ms. Marvelous. I’m a hero. I’m not a ruthless killer. I leaned over and grabbed onto his wrist. I lifted him up and pulled him inside. I dropped his sobbing form at the edge. He lay there, crying like a baby, scared out of what little mind he still possessed.

I spun around and peered into the dimness for Solar Flare. The rope around my ankles was like a string around my finger—I had not forgotten about my second opponent. But she was nowhere to be seen. Probably wants to play cat and mouse, I decided. For a moment, I considered fleeing. Just step out the window and fly away, I thought. There would be no dishonor. After all, I had gone toe to toe with

two powerful opponents and defeated one of them. I was tired, weakened. It’s the smart thing to do, I decided. Fight again another day, and all that.

But no—This needed to be settled. Solar Flare would never stop looking for me. Whether it was today or tomorrow, or next week, or even next month, she and I would eventually tangle again. I didn’t

like the idea of being hunted. I didn’t like the idea of Flare being able to decide the time and place. No— We needed to settle this now.

I reached down and undid the golden lariat. With my feet free, I touched down on the floor and began walking cautiously forward. There! At the far end of the store. Was it a manikin? No, the yellow costume glittered. It was Solar Flare. I strode toward her. I stopped when I was ten feet from her.

“It’s just you and me, now, Flare.”

“So it would seem,” she replied with a smirk. “Good job, by the way. I was starting to grow bored with that guy. Just not—man enough, if you know what I mean.”

Her eyes focused on my breasts and I was suddenly self-conscious of the fact that my nipples were jutting distinctively from under my costume. Still, I didn’t want Flare to know how close I had been to defeat. “He was rather clumsy. Still, I was surprised that you told him about our little secret. The Sartak can be used as easily against you as it can against me. The fewer people that know about it, the better.”

Flare laughed. “I’m too powerful. A loser like that guy—what do people call him, the Smasher?—a loser like that could never get close enough to lay a hand on me.”

“You’re very confident,” I replied. “Still, it wasn’t very sporting of you to tell him.”

“But I wanted to see it, don’t you understand? For though I am inflicted with the same curse as you, I have never experienced it. I have never even seen it happen! I wanted to see it first hand. I needed to see it. I wanted to see how you reacted to it.”

“Whatever,” I said in disgust. “But now the party is over. You have two choices. One, you can go back to Panther and tell him for me that I am never coming back and that he can bite me, or two, you can try and take me back and get the snot kicked out of you again, just like down on the street.”

“What happened on the street was a fluke!” she screamed angrily. “I am the most powerful agent in the Program. You cannot hope to stand against me!”

I tried to act unimpressed. “You’re powerful, I admit, but the most powerful? What about Tommy? What about agents 002 and 004? They’re powerful and they have more experience. The Council should have sent one of them.”

Solar Flare collected herself and spoke calmly. “Tommy is overseas. He is being punished for his failure to capture you. As for the others, they are nothing when compared to me.”

“Big words.”

“More than words. You asked me earlier about the Council accepting new female recruits. The truth is, they have not changed the policy. They simply made an exception for me.”

“An exception?” I asked. “Why? What makes you so special?”

Flare shrugged. “I don’t know the scientific reasoning behind it all—something to do with my genetic structure. You see, they developed a new strain of the Caantonium Serum. A more virulent strain. One that is able to grant even greater strength, even more powerful special powers. But it killed the first three recruits they tried it on. Agents 006, 007, and 008 just weren’t up to the challenge. They needed someone with a special gene in their DNA.”

“And you have that gene?”

She nodded. “They hoped that the new Caantonium would have the added side-effect of eliminating the Sartak. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. I’m just as vulnerable to it as you. But they decided to proceed and give me the treatments anyway. The result is Solar Flare, the most powerful agent the Council has yet created.”

“Again, all I can say is ‘big words’. You haven’t proven anything, yet.”

“Oh, but I will. You see, Ms. Marvelous, I am the first of a new generation of Program-X agents.

Not only am I stronger and faster than you, but I am the first agent to have multiple special powers.” “What?” I asked in surprise. “No agent has more than one special power. Each of us gets one.

Flight, telekinesis, bio-electricity—The variety is potentially endless, but each of us gets only one.”

“Not me,” she said with a sinister smile. “I have more than one. You have already seen that I can fly. But I can also do this!”

Solar Flare’s eyes began to glow. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. They took on a bright yellow hue. I swallowed hard, sure that something bad was about to happen. It did. Before I could react, two small, yellow, beams of light projected out from Flare’s eyes. The beams converged just in front of her nose, combining to make a single, larger beam. The beam lashed out in my direction with incredible speed. It impacted with the center of my chest, on the black star that adorns my uniform. For the brief instant in time that the beam was on me, my body seemed to glow with the same eerie yellow

light that was in Solar Flare’s eyes. I screamed out as my body was racked in agonizing pain. It felt as if someone had jabbed me with a thousand needles over every part of my five foot nine inch, one hundred and thirty pound frame. I was propelled backward by the force of the beam, landing hard on my left side and tumbling across the floor.

“Do you see, now?” Flare asked mockingly. “Do you see how much greater I am than you? Than anyone? I can absorb the energy of the sun itself, drawing it into my body and then discharging it at the time of my choosing. What you are feeling is pure microwave energy. You cannot hope to stand before me, Ms. Marvelous. But, please, try. Yes, I want you to try.”

She unleashed the eye beams a second time and once more my body was lit up with her energy. I cried out in agony as I was propelled farther along the floor. I came to rest at the base of a counter. A cash register sat on top of the counter. Cameras and various types of binoculars rested inside, under a glass surface. I grabbed onto the top of the counter with my hands and dragged myself up to my feet.

Every nerve ending in my body felt as if it had been fried. I knew I couldn’t survive many more hits from Flare’s microwave energy beam.

I pushed off with my feet and dove over the top of the counter just as a third blast came toward me. The beam narrowly missed me, impacting instead on the surface of the counter. It reflected off the glass top and continued forward at an upward angle, eventually carving an ugly burn scar in the wall behind me.

I ducked down behind the counter but knew that it wouldn’t protect me for long. Diving from behind it, I took cover behind a rack of skis. An energy beam sliced in front of my face, stopping me in my tracks. I somersaulted to the side just in time to avoid Flare’s next blast. I scrambled behind a rack of clothing, then dove for the rack of golf clubs. Two more beams streaked past me.

Running at top speed, I cut across the open middle section of the store and took cover behind the bicycle rack. I was cutting down the space between us, trying to get close enough to land a punch of my own. Taking a mountain bike in my powerful hands, I stepped around the end of the rack and flung it in Flare’s direction. I’ve got a good arm—When I want to throw something, I can really throw it. The bicycle hurtled toward Flare. At the last moment she dodged, rolling to her left and coming up in a crouch. The bike whipped past her head, then slammed into the wall behind her.

I was disappointed that my throw had missed, but hopeful that it had been enough of a diversion that I could now get closer to my opponent. Dodging and weaving, I sped toward her. Flare fired off a

blast from her eyes that grazed my left shoulder. A second blast went over my head. I was now only a few feet away from her. It looked like I might make it.

Suddenly, Flare let loose with a third blast. There was no avoiding it. The yellow beam struck me dead center, once again racking my body with pain. The blow stopped me dead in my tracks, but I remained standing. The pain quickly faded. An astonished look came over both our faces.

“It would seem that you are running out of juice, Flare,” I said to her. “And the sun won’t be up for several hours, yet. I’m guessing you can’t recharge until it does!”

The look of anger in her eyes told me that I had guessed correctly. She let go with another blast, but the beam seemed less intense and hardly hurt me at all. The yellow glow in her eyes was quickly

fading. Once again she drilled me with the beam, but I didn’t even try to dodge it. There was no point— Her weapon was no longer dangerous to me.

“Give it up, Flare.”

“Fuck you!” she screamed in rage. “If it was daytime, I would annihilate you with my eye beams!

I would burn the flesh from your carcass until you were nothing more than a pile of ashes!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied. “But right now, I’m guessing you can’t even microwave a hotdog.”

“You dare to mock me? Very well, but the fight isn’t over. I can still beat you! I’m stronger than

you--”

“Don’t forget faster.”

“—and faster than you! And before this night is through, I will make you beg for mercy. I will

make you feel the Sartak, Jody. How many orgasms does it take to kill a Program-X agent, I wonder? Three? Four? Six? I think it is high time that we find out, don’t you?”

I have to admit that Flare’s threats frightened me. Her eye beams may have lost their power, but Flare was still strong. And the night’s events had taken their toll on me. The Smasher had molested me— My nipples were still hard, jutting from my costume like swollen marbles. Even now, the Sartak still lived within me, in the back of my mind, a dark presence that wanted only the opportunity to swallow me up within its sinister embrace. The orgasm that the Smasher had started within me still lived, unsatisfied and, for the moment, weak, but still there, still trying to distract me.

I took a fighting stance and tried to put thoughts of defeat out of my mind. I had beaten Flare before, down on the street, and knew that I could do it again. She approached me cautiously, her hands raised and at the ready. I squared my feet and waited for her to make the first move. I didn’t have to wait long. She stabbed at me with a straight left, then angled a crescent kick over my head. I countered with a palm strike that narrowly missed. Undamaged, we circled one another looking for an opening.

Flare was an impatient fighter. She charged me, rifling off a series of punches and kicks. I blocked each blow in turn, but she was forcing me to give ground. Her strength was awesome. Each blow that I deflected caused a resounding Baph! to echo through the department store. Her quickness was amazing. Each kick that I dodged whistled through the air. But her skill was unrefined—Though each move was technically perfect, Flare’s fighting lacked any kind of personal charisma. Essentially, Flare’s fighting style lacked flair. Her moves were strictly by the book. And having read the book, I knew exactly how to counter them.

I continued to allow her to bring the fight to me. I blocked the blows and sidestepped the kicks. I knew that despite her considerable skill, Flare would eventually make a mistake. Sure enough, when she attempted a leaping spinning heal kick, which I ducked under, she dropped her hands and left herself open. I made her pay by smashing a brutal left hook across her jaw. Solar Flare’s body did a three-sixty and crashed to the floor.

I grabbed her under the arms and lifted her up, then rammed a right into her gut. The blow doubled Flare over. I stepped back, then lifted my left leg high in the air in front of me. I brought it down across the back of her shoulders, driving her again to the floor. I pulled her up by her hair, then drilled a left into her ribcage. Flare groaned in pain. I grabbed her by the arms and drove her backward into a wall. A hammer strike to her chest seemed to take the fight out of her. I held her by the shoulders,

pinning her back against the wall. Flare’s head drooped, her chin against her chest and her blonde hair hanging down across her face.

“It’s over, Flare! Give up now!”

She mumbled something unintelligible, though I figured it was a curse of some kind.

“What?” I asked. “Are you ready to give up?”

Slowly, Solar Flare lifted her head. She looked me in the eyes. “Once again, Jody, you have underestimated me.”

Without warning, Solar Flare’s body began to glow. A yellow aura seemed to surround her, growing in intensity until it was difficult to look at. Suddenly, she flared, exploding with a brilliant yellow light that was as bright as the sun. I pulled my hands from her shoulders and covered my eyes, but it was too late. I screamed in pain. My eyes, accustomed to the dim light of the store, felt as if they had been stabbed by hot blades. The light seemed to enter my mind, tearing away any conscious thought that was there. It was agonizing—terrifying—unbelievable.

The light receded as quickly as it had come. As it left, so did the pain that filled my head. The pain was replaced with numbness-- a pure, unrelenting form of numbness that overtook my entire body. I remained conscious, but only barely. I was completely stunned by Solar Flare’s unexpected attack.

It was now she that had the upper hand. Taking me by the shoulders, she spun me around and slammed me back first against the wall. We had switched positions. Where only a moment before I had held her pinned, apparently helpless, against the wall, it was now she that held me.

“Poor, poor Jody,” she mocked me. “Did you really think that you had defeated me? Did you think that I could be defeated so easily? Now you have seen the truth. You have been introduced to my final special power, and the reason that I am called Solar Flare. Few can maintain consciousness when hit by the power of the flare, even in the daytime, much less at night, like now. That you remain standing is truly amazing. But your body has gone limp. The battle is over. All that remains is the Sartak. Are you

ready, Jody? Are you ready for the end?” “No,” I said weakly. “I won’t let you…”

“There is little that you can do to stop me.” To prove her point, Solar Flare removed her hands from my shoulders and used them to cup my breasts. “Ah, yes, so firm. You really are a beautiful woman, Jody. But let’s get this costume out of the way--”

I was too weak to struggle as she lifted the tapers of my uniform up and over my breasts. The material of my costume stretched easily. Through half-open eyes that were slowly regaining vision, I could see my opponent biting her lower lip and looking down at my exposed form. She seemed to like what she saw. “Great,” I said to myself. “A lesbian. Just what I need.”

Flare’s fingers danced across my nipples. Unlike the clumsy Smasher, her technique was excellent. She drew light circles around my small cups with her forefingers, then brushed across my swelling buds with her thumbs. Her fingers lightly caressed the sides of my breasts, then circled underneath. I could feel the blood rushing into my engorged mounds. My nipples stood at attention. I moaned in unwanted ecstasy. My body, though still stunned from the flare attack, quickly began to respond. Within me, a fire began to burn. In my mind, thoughts of what this lesbian attacker might do to me filled me with unwanted desire and dread. The orgasm that had been denied now took on a new life.

My arms hung limply at my sides, unable or unwilling to rise to my defense. My legs felt weak—I began to slip down across the wall, toward the floor. But that was not where Flare wanted me. She slid her left thigh between my slightly parted legs, providing me with a perch on which to sit. The pressure of her thigh against my crotch sent a new wave of pleasure jolting through my body. My clitoris, swelling on its own and peeking out from its hiding place between my nether lips, pressed against the top of her leg and desired more. I moaned again as my body, acting against the will of my mind, caused my hips to gyrate forward and back, dragging my burning clit slowly across her leg.

“Amazing! You want me to do this to you, don’t you, Jody?” Flare whispered into my left ear. “You want me to take you, don’t you?”

“No… please don’t…” I pleaded. “You… must not… do this.”

My begging only served to encourage her. She leaned on my breasts, taking my swollen left nipple deep into her mouth. I moaned softly as her rough tongue rolled over it, teasing it again and again. Her lips softly cupped it between them, tugging at the firm bud, causing wave after wave of pleasure to course through my body. Her left hand continued to play with my right nipple, caressing and pinching it, making it swell until I felt that it might explode. The grip of the Sartak grew stronger inside me, taking over my mind, threatening to swallow me up entirely. I tried to focus, to regain control of my body—I

knew that if I didn’t do something quickly it would be too late.

But my arms felt distant and numb. They dangled limply at my sides. I tried to raise them, to push my attacker away, but to no avail. My hips continued to gyrate on Flare’s thigh, moving slightly forward and back, not much, but enough to cause friction against my now wet clit. “Stop it!” my mind screamed out. “Stop it! Fight back! Fight back!”

Concentrating, I forced my legs to stiffen. I lifted myself off Flare’s leg. I forced my hands to

come up, to take hold of Flare’s wrists. Using all the strength I could muster, I wrenched her hands away from my aching breasts. My left nipple popped out of her mouth and she raised her head, amused.

“The time for resistance is over, Jody. Give in to the inevitable.” “Never!” I said hoarsely. “I’ll never give in to you.”

But my defiance was hollow. With a snicker, Solar Flare twisted her wrists free of my weak grip and returned them to my engorged breasts. She pinched down softly on my nipples, sending a new wave of sensations cascading through my tortured body. I moaned loudly. My hands fell back to my sides. My legs went limp, causing me to slide down once more onto her leg. I was perched there, my back against

the wall, the top of Flare’s thigh pressing tightly against my crotch, my swollen nipples between her fingers. My head drooped. My strength was gone. My will to resist was gone. I was defeated.

The Sartak took over my mind. I could do nothing as Flare began, once again, to suck on my left nipple. Her right hand slid slowly down across my bare abdomen and under my costume. My body convulsed slightly as she fingered my clit. Satisfied that my bud was swollen and exposed, she removed her hand and grasped the top of my bikini bottom. With a violence that surprised me, she yanked upward on it, stretching the material and driving the thong in-between my wet nether lips. Pulling me away from the wall momentarily, she reached around my hips and adjusted the back side of my costume, then pulled upward on the bikini bottom again. The thong rose high between my butt-cheeks, driving into my crack. I squealed as she tugged on it again from the front and further wedged it up inside me.

“That’s a good look for you, Jody,” she said mockingly as she inspected her work. “Butt cheeks exposed, vaginal lips hanging out—How does it feel?”

I wanted to respond, to hurl some curse at her, but the Sartak was overwhelming me. It was as if I was in some different place, a place apart from the real world, a place where all that I could feel were my swollen nipples and engorged breasts, my burning clit and wet pussy. The pressure that my own costume was putting on my enflamed clitoris was almost too much to bear. The feeling of it wedged between my butt-cheeks was at once both humiliating and erotic. The orgasm inside me was growing, building into a tidal wave of intensity that would soon be unstoppable.

I tried to concentrate, to focus on the idea of escape, but it was hopeless. Flare leaned me back against the wall, allowing me to settle once again on top of her thigh. As she continued to tease my aching mounds with her tongue and fingers, my moans came forth loud and uninhibited. My strength was gone. I knew I was beaten. She was my conqueror and I was her slave.

I no longer retained control of my body and mind. They belonged to the sensual shock of the Sartak. My arms and legs were distant and useless, as if apart from me. All I could feel were my aching breasts. All I could think about was my burning pussy and the thong of my costume, wedged deep between my nether lips. All other thoughts were beyond my power to control—Images of what this lesbian super-villain might do to me now raced uninhibited through my mind. Would she continue sucking my nipples until I gave milk? Would she hold me here, pinned against the wall, until the orgasm that was growing inside me exploded? Or would she lay my limp, helpless form on the floor and begin tonguing my clit? Would she put her fingers inside me? Would she drive them deep within my wet pussy and cause me to scream out for mercy? Would she drive the shaft of a golf club between my legs? How many times would she make me come? How many orgasms could I survive? Oh, god, was this really the end? Was this the end of Ms. Marvelous?

My orgasm was on the verge of exploding. My breath came in frantic pants. My engorged breasts heaved. My body tensed. I couldn’t hold out much longer. I was so close! So close!

Suddenly, a loud noise, like the ringing of a bell, reverberated through the room. Flare’s leg was no longer beneath me. I slid slowly down the wall, finally coming to a rest on the floor, in a sitting position. Flare lay beside me, clutching the back of her head and groaning. Standing above us was the Smasher, an aluminum baseball bat in his left hand. He was a mess. Dried blood caked his chin. His right

arm lay twitching at his side. His left leg dragged uselessly behind him. But a huge, psycho, grin covered his face.

“You’re the first person that ever cared about me,” he said while looking down at me. “You could have left me hanging there, out the window, but you didn’t. You could have let me fall to my death, but you saved me. I owe you a debt. And Howard Bilken always pays his debts. Rest assured, I’ll pay!”

Flare groaned again and struggled onto her hands and knees. Bilken raised the bat over his head and brought it down, smashing it across Flare’s back. He gave her a second whack just for fun. She

crumpled onto the floor and didn’t move.

Bilken dropped the bat and reached down with his left hand. He took me by the arm and dragged me up onto my feet. I could barely stand and leaned heavily against him. I wearily raised my head and looked at his face. He looked at me, at my exposed body, and licked his lips. An ugly thought ran through my head. “Oh, jeez, is he going to pick up where Flare left off? Is he going to rape me?”

I was in no shape to defend myself. The orgasm inside of me teetered on the edge of detonation. My aching nipples burned for someone to rub them. My wet pussy was on fire. My eyes, as if acting of their own volition, looked downward toward the Smasher’s crotch.

But Bilken simply led me, or rather carried me, away. When we got to the camera supply counter, he lowered me to the floor. Again, he looked me over lustfully, but made no aggressive moves. “Maybe you had better just sit here, for a while. Try to get yourself together, huh?”

He limped back to where Flare lay and again picked up the baseball bat. Savagely, he whacked her across the back of the head with it, breaking it off at the handle. He held the portion that remained in his hand up to his face and looked at it in amusement, then tossed it aside. Reaching down, he took Flare by the hair and dragged her along behind him as he walked back in my direction. He gave me a quick wink as they passed by, then continued on toward the broken window. He stopped at the edge, then casually, sadistically, tossed Flare out.

I swallowed hard at the thought of her falling five stories to the street. “Hope she doesn’t land on someone,” I thought silently. But I figured she would survive. I knew that I would.

I leaned back against the counter and closed my eyes. I took a long, deep, breath. I was still in the clutches of the Sartak, but the unfulfilled orgasm was subsiding and I knew that I would gradually regain control. When I opened my eyes again, the Smasher was no longer near the window. I raised my head and looked for him, but he was gone. I could hear scuffling noises emanating from somewhere on one of the department store’s lower floors, or perhaps in the stairwell. Maybe Bilken had come up

against the police while trying to make his getaway, I considered. But I didn’t really care.

I pulled myself to my feet and adjusted my costume so that I was appropriately covered. I wobbled and had to steady myself by leaning against the counter. It didn’t matter-- I was still alive and that was all that counted.

I walked to the window. I looked down toward the street. The crowd of people was still there, still hoping to see some more super-hero action. They seemed to be centered around the much abused city bus. I could see that the roof of the bus had been smashed in. Police officers scrambled over its surface. Their bright red helmets indicated that they were members of the Mutant Capture Team. At the bus’s center, a yellow clad figure lay motionless. The officers made their way carefully toward the figure, then quickly covered and bound it in some type of special material or bag.

I considered descending to check on the condition of Solar Flare, but then decided that I’d had enough action for one night. I stepped off the edge and took to the air, slowly gaining altitude until I had passed up and over the nearby skyscrapers. Maybe life is fair, after all, I pondered as I disappeared into the night sky. I had saved Bilken and Bilken had saved me. We had both been cheated before, perhaps, but now we had both be granted second chances.