<h2 class="western">Wednesday, January 23, 2123</h2>
As soon as the bouncer left, I said in a loud whisper. “Mr Kittoffery? Is Kittoffery your surname, Conrad?”
“I knew it. You are Captain Kittoffery!” I whispered.
“Or it''s mistaken identity... or I could have a twin brother,” said Conrad quietly.
“Do you have a twin brother?”
“What sort of secret identity is it when you embed your own surname into your vigilante sobriquet?” I stammered with increasing decibels.
“Shh,” soothed Conrad noticing the bouncer''s return. “It''s a long story.”
***
<h3 class="western">Tuesday, September 24, 2117.
Terri felt smug; like she had cracked a code. This was not a game. Could it be that Mad-Sci-Soc was not a science club or a role playing games society but really just a front for a league of super heroes?
“So, Karmen, are you ever going to appear in public as Princess Improbileon?”
“It is just Improbileon. There is no ''princess'' in the name,” said Karmen curtly.
“Or you, Max, as Majestro?” Terri continued.
“Or, you, Terri, as Cloudera?” retorted Max defiantly stepping outside of the demeanor that was attempting to woo her.
“Well, Max. I was just playing a game. But you three seem to be planning to make your characters a reality. I should have realised as soon as I found out there was no dice, that this wasn''t a real game. That, and the half hour discussion on obtaining government technology licenses,” mused Terri.
Conrad held out his hand to stop the conversation. “You''re right, Terri. You''ve seen through our playful charade. I am Captain Kittoffery...”
“I knew it,” said Terri with glee. “So what’s happened to you? And why haven’t I heard about Max and Karmen?”
“I''ve had a few law suits occupying my time,” shrugged Conrad.
“But about to make a come-back,” said Karmen, shyly, with a sideways glance at him.
“Karmen and Max are still developing their super hero personas so they haven''t gone out in public yet. But they will when the time is right,” Conrad explained.
Karmen nodded firmly with her arms crossed.
Terri''s excited mind was flooded with questions but did not know which one to start with... the question she asked was probably not the best, “So what was with the radioactive pandas?”
“Ah that''s another long story,” sighed Conrad.
“Isn''t it obvious to everyone? This secret identity of yours! It is worse than Superman''s disguise as Clark Kent!” spluttered Terri.
“Other people haven''t seen through us quite so clearly, so top marks to you,” said Conrad. “But let''s move on, shall we?”
“This is a big deal. Quite difficult to laugh this away,” said Terri.
“Maybe. What do you want to know? Besides the pandas. That’s for another day.”
“So what are we really doing here?” said Terri
“This really is still a game for us. We''re working out different scenarios, playing the angles, coming up with new stratagems and tactics.”
“In particular,” ventured Max. “Seeing what technology we need to invent, build or buy. That''s our only real super-power: technology.”
“But all the best patents and licenses are held by Ms-Bell. We''ve established that. After the self cleaning toilet, is there anything new to invent?” mused Terri regaining her composure.
“As you pointed out, Terri, Ms-Bell are the bad guys,” said Max. “Even if unwittingly so. I see the corporation as more of a deranged, psychopathic wildebeest that we have to tame rather than as something inherently evil.”
“Since psychopaths aren''t evil?” said Terri sarcastically.
“Not since we''ve discovered the link with post-toddler bed wetting and criminal brain chemistry. That is why we can''t just blow up all those diligent Ms-Bell corporate executive types. And there are still plenty of things to invent and lots of stuff not locked down by patents and licensing laws. Mad-Sci-Soc''s mission is to find and exploit technology that is out-of-patent or open-source. For the good of everyone not just the corporations. We just need to find the technology or come up with the ideas! That''s why we like new members, like you, to come along with fresh ideas.”
“And you''re saying no-one has ever noticed that you''re playing this superhero game for real?” said Terri.
Conrad said dismissively, “Terri, you''re not the first, but you were one of the quickest.”
Max said earnestly, “So actually becoming Cloudera… does that interest you? You could finish your degree, find a job marketing sugared water? Or do you want something else? To change the world? Do you want to be a superhero, Terri? A real superhero?”
***
<h3 class="western">
We exited Antonio''s and stepped into Conrad''s car. He turned and said to me, “So do you want to change the world, Aaron? Do you want to be a superhero?”
“What can I say? We''re in da disposal business, hash tag. The debris could be anywhere. It could be swimming with da fishes or wearing concrete overshoes by now?” Antonio liked to keep his gangster image going even when dealing with something as straight forward as... actual rubbish disposal.
“So you don''t have any records?”
“Our business don''t like records, capische? We don''t like-a to record what-a we pick up or where-a we put it.” said Antonio leaning back with his unfashionable electronic cigar.
“How do you direct your staff to a particular site?” asked Conrad pleasantly.
“We get on da blower...” breezed Antonio.
“And you get that information from?”
“Someone else on da blower!”
“And how do you know which Robo-truck to send. Don''t you have a record of your assets?” persisted Conrad.
“We-have-assets!” replied Antonio as if Conrad was accusing him of being poor.
“So how do you know whether your assets are available, broken, need maintenance, or are simply laying around costing you money,” asked Conrad politely.
“Sure. What do you want?”
“Some more contracts, perhaps?”
“We have some big stuff coming up. You know all of our engagements make a big mess of the cityscape. You’ll be the first to know,” said Conrad.
“Thanks, big fella.” He released Conrad and came towards me, putting his arm around my shoulder.
“And you! You''re that researcher guy, right?”
“Yes. That''s me,” I said zealously.
“I always remember a face, hash tag,” Antonio grinned.
“And I remember your face. And I know where you live, my friend. You promised me some data, right?” said Antonio with a terrifying grin.
“Caribbean holiday locations? Yes, I''ve found them,” I smiled. “Just need to get the info off the legacy-net. It''s not as easy since...”
“Yeah, you do that. My squeeze is chewing my ear off about da... dis dammed vacation.”
***
<h3 class="western">Wednesday, January 23, 2123 (a few minutes later).
Back at the car, (the “Kittoffery Kart”) I replied wistfully to Conrad. “I''m no superhero, Captain. I''ve no superpowers. Well, except for the superpower to repel attractive women.”
“Terri is a fine young woman…” Conrad replied smoothly.
“My super power seems to have been working on her recently.”Stolen novel; please report.
“Perhaps we can change that. We can give you real mutotonic superpowers, Aaron, with the right carefully-worded, licence application. But it is not superpowers that make a superhero, but heart, integrity... ”
“Apply, yes. You think they’re inherited? No, that would be most unfair, that would be like wealth or royalty! How archaic!” said Conrad with some disgust.
“Well, yes. I assumed that was the case. Either that or a dreadful accident with a radioactive frazzaliser. You know, developing mutations...” I stammered.
“The newscasts like to promote radiation as the cause of the super powers and the arrival of superheroes but radiation is nothing but a poison. Keep taking a rad-free pills otherwise you''ll soon be poorly. Mutotonic is in fact a made-up word. It’s just part of the smoke-screen. You can''t make any assumptions until you''ve understood this crazy world of ours,” said Conrad firmly. “The first thing you need to know. There are no real superpowers, mutotonic or otherwise.”
“But...” I stuttered. “I''ve read the news, I''ve seen the movies, the mainstream reality shows… It is in wikipedia!” This was a shock to me; like finding out that Santa Claus was not real.
“It''s just technology and science applied in a disguised form. Just like a magician’s trick. There''s nothing supernatural. Even your fridge’s behaviour will turn out to have a perfectly logical explanation. Even if it does seem rather bizarre at the moment.”
“A bit more than bizarre? Not even Disney would dare to imagine an evil fridge.”
“Fortunately the nearest Disneyworld is tens of miles away. We can''t blame Disney for this.”
“But this is incredible. No superheroes? Have I been lied to all my life?” I stuttered.
“You and most of the rest of society. It''s pretty criminal really,” sighed Conrad.
“I knew Superdude was fiction, he said he was an alien; and we all know aliens don''t exist after the UFOs were exposed as a stunt by Hollywood producers to whip-up interest in sci-fi. But BatBuddy, Nerdifier, Spider-Guy?”
“Yes, they''re all just regular joes. The only one coming close to the truth is BatBuddy. At least he never claimed to have anything mutotonic.”
“Yeah, but he only went after email scammers! What about the super villains? Torro, The Wit, Dr Invincible, Dweebee?”
“These super villains are all patsies. All employed to drive up the ratings and contracted to fail. Sure, there are some real bad guys too, but generally they are not televisual enough.”
“If by fake you meant he had technological assistance then yes,” said Conrad referring to himself in the third person.
“Captain Kittoffery''s super strength... it was just a gimmick?” I asked aghast.
“A titanium exoskeleton, pneumatic pumps and a bullet-proof vest, hidden by a holo-costume,” replied Conrad.
“And Spider-Guy? How did he climb walls?” I asked.
“Wall climbing equipment has been available for decades. It is amazing what you can do with some disguised zip lines,” he said matter-of-factly. “Always had problems getting out of the bath though.”
“Nerdifier. He could go invisible.”
“Holo-costume and some cameras!”
“And his hypnotic influence?”
“A dart gun delivering a powerful suggestibility drug.”
“Super hearing?”
“Electronic snooping.”
“Super vision?”
“Telescopic night vision goggles.”
“And what about Aquaboy and his gills?”
“No gills. He uses a rebreather.”
“Holly cursing, sycophantic, chocolate-covered cow, captain,” I sighed. “Is there no magic left?”
“So it''s about the media and the corporations again?” I asked.
“Isn''t everything?” shrugged Conrad.
“Is there no super power you can''t fake?” I asked in desperation.
“Can''t you invent a better jet-pack?”
“I''m organising a crowd-sourced development,” he winked.
“The Su-U, the Super Hero Union,” replied Conrad smugly. “I''ll take you there tomorrow. Mad-Sci-Soc has its own chapter and a secret hideout downtown.” At this point I had exited the car.
***
<h3 class="western">Wednesday, January 23, 2123
I bounded into the apartment where Terri was laying on the sofa unwrapping grapes while watching the broadcast 3d images in the center of the room. There was not enough room to reach the sofa and Terri didn''t like it if I walked through the holographic image, so I stayed by the door.
“Did you find the fridge?” she asked not looking away from holographic characters in the fictional drama.
“No. But you’ll never guess what?” I said enthusiastically.
“No,” she replied in a drawn-out tone implying that I had forgotten something.
“But you’ll never guess what?” I repeated to the back of Terri''s head, she was not looking at me.
“Well... uh, yes. But that''s not what I was going to say. I was going to say that Conrad... is really...”
“...Captain Kittoffery. Yes, I know,” said Terri finishing off the sentence, killing my buzz.
“You knew? Why didn''t you tell me?” I said.
“It''s his secret identity,” she said with emphasis on “secret”. “I was asked to keep it secret.”
“Yeah. Been there, got the t-shirt. Did they give you a hero name?” she said twisting around to look at me.
“You’d better think of one by yourself before they give you something crappy,” she suggested and returned back to the broadcast.
“So... they... you?” I asked un-intelligently.
“No really. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You said you were a super hero too?” I stammered.
“It didn''t work out.”
“So you were?”
“I could have been.”
“But it didn''t work out? Come on, you need to tell me more than that,” I pleaded.
“I can give you one more word on the subject.”
“And that is?”
“Max!”
“Oh. Right. You don''t want to talk about it?”
“I don''t want to talk about it,” she said through gritted teeth turning up the volume on the broadcast. She added, talking over the sound from the show, her parting piece of advice, “Don''t let them take you out on a mission!”
***
<h3 class="western">Thursday, January 24, 2123
Thursday morning, Terri left for work and I went to meet Conrad as early as I could. It was noon. I could have explained that I was a late riser but that was only part of my excuse. I do my work at night, my “Freelance Technical Research” that Terri likes to scoff at.
“Yes,” I said. “I fancy... Captain Disaster!”
“They already have a Captain.”
“They can''t have another?”
“No. No,” said Terri gravely. “You have to have a totally original name. But you could be a General or a Major.”
“Major. Ok,” And I pretended to go into character, “Stop bad guys! Says who? Says me, Major Disaster! Hmmm! That''s not going to work, is it? General Disaster? No. No better.”
“Like taking candy from a baby,” said Terri with a smile. She had set me up.
“Best keep this to ourselves, Private Disaster,” she said sardonically.
“By the way, do you have any money?”
“You know this is one of the reasons why we are breaking up, don’t you?”
***