“Donald Wright?”
“Yes, that’s the man. Mister Wright summoned Major Patriot to the campus one afternoon. A Friday, I remember, and he deigned to meet me at the Kozy Kampus Koffee Shop.”
Sitting up straight, Jack nodded. “Major Patriot? I’ve heard about him. Wasn’t he was the leader of some older Heropa super group? Can’t remember their name.”
“The Crime Crusader Crew.”
“Yeah, that’s it. So all this was — when?”
“Four years ago, less than a year after Heropa went online. Back then my memory was so much more competent — I could also remember that big baptismal event. Oh, my. All the pretty lights, out of darkness.”
The Professor looked wistful.
“Anyhow, I believe I mentioned — didn’t I? — that Major Patriot stepped in for a chat. I did mention it, yes, and the man was extremely alarmed to learn of my immunity. The Reset was a form of control, you see, of maintaining the status quo and preventing Blandos from getting ideas above their station. We were created in the image of our designers. All the same flaws and failings, but also similar dreams and aspirations. The Major, as the original designer of Heropa, did not wish his creations to develop any further along these lines than the basic programming window allowed for with the Reset.”
Jack recalled his discussion with Gypsie-Ann. The Equalizer was itching for this old man to get back on track, to address his daughter-in-law and what the hell had happened there — the Aerialist? — Louise? But he still had other questions that needed answering.
“I thought Sir Omphalos was the co-creator of Heropa.”
“No, no, he was a junior partner in development. Important, to be sure, but the real creative genius rested with the Major.”
“So what was the outcome of this fireside conversation you two shared?”
“Major Patriot realized, through my existence, that the Reset was not infallible. He therefore gifted me a task, a commission as it were, to discover an alternative means to complement the Reset, one that could be used to control other people we found to be resistant or immune. That was how I cobbled together a machine that gave out certain emissions. ‘Vita-Rays’, the Major called them — his sadistic joke, since these emissions do nothing to revitalize and empower the body or the soul. Rather, a direct opposite. They act as a sedative, a memory-loss agent, and I was coerced first of all to employ myself as a guinea pig, and then others like me.”
“Coerced…how?”
“The Major was a very persuasive man. I was under no delusion that he would not kill me if I refused to collaborate in his schemes.”
“But he was a Cape.”
“Precisely. Not all people see them as heroes, and most of them hardly act that way.”
“So you collaborated.”
“For several months, about a year, yes.”
“And then?”
“I could not continue. This was channelling God, without accounting for the consequences — and then having me play Satan’s little helper when the consequences jumped up and bit them on the derrière. I was appalled with myself, as much as with this evil man. Evil, Jack. Pure and simple. The Reset was a cheat, a programming blink that kept things from naturally developing the way they should. Vita-Rays added to this cheat. Not only against us, but also undercutting Capes — without a fear of demise, how can any person truly appreciate the value of another’s life? Finally, I’d had enough. I approached a third party, a different Cape. Sir Omphalos I believe you knew.”
“Only by reputation.”
“Well, that is a shame. This was an individual far more humane, understanding and appreciative of the situation. I told him about the Vita-Rays project, and the man was scandalized. He helped me to escape from the university, provided a new identity, and set me up in the shop. Lee was a good Cape, a bright spark in this madness.”
Mention of the name floored Jack’s wayward thoughts. He focused again on the old man’s mush, eyes wide. “Lee —? Louise’s husband?”
“Oh no, dear boy, that was a ruse, something I cooked up to appease the girl when her memories started to bubble back to the surface one time.”
The Equalizer sat back. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m getting ahead of myself, so let us do just that, since time is precious. Allow me to fast-forward. There was a day, around two months ago, when Sir Omphalos came to visit me. I had not seen the man for three years, and on this occasion he was not alone — over his shoulder Lee hefted another Cape, one dressed in a flight suit and a helmet that reminded me of the Rocketeer. Did you ever read The Rocketeer?”