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Welcome to Olympus City, where super-powers, physics-defying tech, and unearthly creatures are all possible now. Human nature, however, remains unchanged.
No one is born a perfect superhero, but a few strive to live up to the ideal anyway.
Previously: Ken turned into a wooden marionette, and he’s just encountered evil termites.
Part 3
Ken hovered at head height, or what was normally head height, as he kept his distance from the termite entity. He felt that was prudent, being made of wood and all. Still, he couldn’t turn a blind eye to an unnatural occurrence that was ravaging the city’s premier park.
“Hello? What do you want?”
The termites communicated with not exactly language, more like an overwhelming wave of id, an irresistible impulse to consume. Eat. Feast. Devour. Gobble it up. All of it. Right now.
Ken wasn’t expecting garrulous insects. Even the ones who had shaped themselves into a small humanoid silhouette still lacked human substance, lacked a human brain. He guessed that the glowing pebble served as a sort of brain to them. To test the theory, he dipped closer and blasted it with as much telekinetic force as he could muster. He embarrassed himself with how pitifully he mustered. But it was all he had today.
The entity’s arm detached itself and broke into a minor swarm of flying termites. They enveloped Ken and chewed away. He was thankful his marionette body lacked all sense of touch. It was unsettling enough just seeing the pests crawling all over him, attacking with their piercing mandibles, magnified through miniaturized eyes that could not close.
By all rights, he should have fled, found his way back to Miranda. Let her crush that enchanted pebble, or better yet, pitch it at the sun. Ken was ill. Bizarrely ill, but ill nonetheless. He had every excuse to take the day off.
But the termites’ intentions continued to invade his mind, and he knew they wouldn’t stop at devouring this park. When there was nothing left here, they’d spread into the city and the surrounding suburbs, gathering any other termites into their hive mind along the way. All the wood in Olympus City wouldn’t be enough to satisfy their hunger. All the wood in the world wouldn’t. They’d consume every last piece of timber on the planet before their ravenous appetite even began to fade. At that point, they’d consume whatever happened to be available. Or whomever.
More termites descended on Ken, burying him in midair. Telekinesis flicked some off, but there were so many more, feasting, chiseling, chipping away at the marionette. Sawdust spilled like blood. It didn’t hurt, not physically, but Ken could sense the pieces of himself disappearing, succumbing to the collective gluttony of an insatiable species.
He still had his mind, though. He could think as clearly as ever. He simply needed to look past the insects crawling across his eyes and concentrate on the pebble. The telekinetic brain of Mr. Amazing had raised tremendous weights. Surely he could handle one pebble. It was a uniquely dangerous pebble, but still a pebble. And he was still Mr. Amazing.
The humanoid entity sprouted a new arm and swelled to twice Ken’s size as more termites joined its bulk. An intimidation tactic, he supposed. The termites were puffing themselves up to remind Ken that he was a little puppet man, and an increasingly gnarled one at that. The mass of termites pressed its arm into Ken’s side, its countless mandibles combining into a chainsaw.
Ken, gushing sawdust, ignored the monstrous figure, ignored the crawling insects, ignored his own withering form as he directed all his thoughts at the radiant pebble. A tiny crack formed beneath its glare. He pushed harder.
I still have my mind, he assured himself. They can’t eat that.
The termites shrouded his entire head as they burrowed into his imitation skull. Though alarming, it ultimately had no effect on his brain. He could still feel his telekinesis flowing, pressing against the pebble. Let the little beasts chew. He had a rock to pulverize.
The pebble vibrated under the relentless pressure, like it was attempting to fight back. A pitiful, futile attempt. The crack spread and splintered until this wound encompassed the stone.
Come on, Ken thought, restricting awareness to his telekinesis and that one pebble. Break already …
He thought so hard that the pebble exploded.
*****
“Good God!” Juliana shouted as Ken flew into her office. What was left of Ken, rather. The termites had bitten through one arm, the remains of which floated beside him telekinetically. Mandibles had ravaged his face and carved out various chunks of him. He looked like a forgotten toy that had spent the past several decades in the wrong junkyard.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said.
“What happened to you?” Juliana leaned over him, her huge eyes inspecting the damage. “Do you need a doctor? Or some glue?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Ken assured her that his puppet form felt no pain. His numerous injuries were, in effect, cosmetic. She wasn’t buying it.
“You never should have left the office.”
“I stopped an evil termite hive mind.”
It took her a moment to unpack that sentence. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Better than if I hadn’t stopped them, at least.”
The office was fairly cramped. Juliana did not rank highly enough to merit wasted space. But there was just enough room for nervous pacing, of which she now availed herself.
“We had it all worked out. We were going to take some footage, get some location shots. Everyone was ready to go the moment you got back. Wally’s Wonders was fully on board with this, too. They were so excited. But now …” She stopped, looked down at the chewed-up marionette, and shook her head. “That is not going to sell any merchandise.”
Ken did not shed any tears, which he supposed would have been tears of paint.
“You have some pictures,” he said. “The toy company can make their own puppet, and I’ll make it act.”
“But you’re such a lifelike puppet.”
“I prevented an ecological catastrophe, not to mention all the property damage those things would have caused. I can’t apologize for that.”
Juliana whistled out a long sigh. “No, I suppose you’re right. Still unfortunate, though. But it does convince me that I made the right decision on another matter.”
As Juliana bent to his level, Ken dreaded whatever this matter might be.
“I’ve secured new housing for you,” she said.
“I don’t need—”
“A supervillain turned you into a puppet in your own home. You need different accommodations.” She again peered at his damage. A thimble’s worth of sawdust had spilled onto the table. “Might as well take you there now.”
*****
PRAM’s top floor consisted of executive housing. The original intent was to provide second homes to Peterson and his senior staff, thereby reducing commuting time during peak seasons and mission-critical projects. But they wound up rarely using these high-end apartments, especially once super-powered beings started flying around at this and higher altitudes.
Juliana explained this as Ken rode her shoulder into the unit designated as his new residence.
A vast, modern apartment sprawled before them, full of leather furniture, top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, and exquisite views. Any place would look a bit bigger at the moment, but even adjusting for inflation, Ken conservatively estimated that his current apartment could have fit in here ten times over.
It was an incredible residence. Luxury living all the way, provided its occupant ignored the ninety-plus stories of business that separated him from the rest of civilization.
“I’m sure you’ll agree that this is quite a step up for you,” Juliana said. “We’ll convert a window so it can open, so you can come and go more easily.”
“How much is this going to cost me?”
“Just a modest deduction from each paycheck. HR will go over the details. You can sign all the paperwork tomorrow. But you’re getting quite the deal here.”
Juliana set Ken on a coffee table, which was immaculate until he leaked more sawdust.
“Thank you,” he said. “This is … very nice.”
It was. Anyone would be fortunate to live in such an apartment. Ken knew he had nothing to complain about, and yet he failed to conquer the lingering sense of unease.
“Take the rest of the day off and get acclimated,” Juliana said. “We’ll pick up tomorrow when you’re hopefully feeling better. We’ve still got that toothpaste commercial we need to film.” She started toward the door, then took one more look at Ken’s severed arm. “Are you going to be okay if I leave you alone? Promise me you won’t be fighting any more battles until you’ve recovered.”
“I promise I’ll stay put in this perfectly safe environment you’ve provided.”
“Great.” A warm but amused smile formed, a glimmer of the person beneath the professional. “I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re a real boy again.”
Once Juliana exited the apartment, Ken collapsed onto the table, at last giving his overtaxed telekinesis a break.
The puppet effect wore off a few hours later, earlier than the young Doctor Hades had estimated. Wood turned to flesh as Ken expanded to his usual proportions, in one piece. The formerly severed arm was sore, but it had reattached. An inspection of his torso revealed no missing chunks of flesh, just abundant bruising. His face, too, was whole, other than the preexisting scar.
Willpower drained, he surrendered to his new king-size bed. Not really his, he realized. None of this would ever belong to him. But it was nice for now. A little too nice.
He drifted into sleep, dreading tomorrow’s meetings, paperwork, and toothpaste commercial.
Next: The Sisyphean Stratagem
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This was a fun three-parter - I enjoyed it! 😄
Was this inspired by your love for the Muppets, if I may ask?