Interview with E A Bruce

Eric A. Bruce has written a superhero novel called Titan... Here's your chance to learn more about him and the book.

1. Tell us something about yourself.

-I’m from Northern Virginia, US. I got married last year to my girlfriend of almost 10 years. I used to play hockey. I am a cinephile; I love movies and TV--I’m a big Lost fan and The Big Lebowski is my favorite movie. Generally, I enjoy superhero and horror movies.

I have been writing since I was a boy, maybe 9 or 10 years old. The first story I received any recognition for was called “Deadly Schooling” and it was about my 6th grade teacher being a serial killer. I actually submitted it for a writing assignment. My teacher, the same one who I depicted as a killer, loved it and really encouraged me. I’ve been focused on writing ever since.

Right now, I write in my free time, but I dream of doing it full time. I’ve just published my first book and I’m working on a second.

2. What is your newest book about?

Titan is about a high school senior who discovers that he is a superhero called Titan and his family has carried this power for generations. Titan is a special element mix that lives in the marrow of the hero’s bones. He can draw it out with his will and it becomes a suit that he wears made of fine metal threads, which can harden, like armor. He can also manipulate it to make weapons and other objects. This gives him great strength, quickness, and healing resilience. There is another ability, too--a frightening connection to “The Source,” which is basically a high-speed internet connection to heaven and hell jacked into his mind that he cannot control.

But no one ever told Eric Steele about any of this; his parents tried to hide it. The power is always passed to the first born child of the previous Titan, but Eric’s older sister, Sarah, died. His parents thought they could give Eric a normal life. But Sarah passed the power to Eric because evil is rising and it’s important that Titan faces it.

Meanwhile, Eric’s best friend, Jim, has been kidnapped by a secret military group that wants to use Titan’s power for its own ends. They’re led by a Colonel who comes to be known as The Shadow. He threatens Jim’s family and manipulates Jim into helping him capture Titan.

Eric must learn his family’s secrets, discover what really happened to his sister, and confront The Shadow to save himself, his family, and his friends.

3. What makes your book different from other superhero novels?

- For my novel, I was interested in the journey--for both the protagonist and the antagonist. It’s always bothered me in comics or comic book films, if it’s an origin story, the protagonist’s transition into becoming the hero is covered in a quick two minute montage. The villain’s, too. Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man is guilty of that. Peter Parker climbs a wall, jumps over some buildings, fights Bonesaw, then chases Uncle Ben’s killer. After Ben’s funeral, there is a very quick and abrupt montage showing us Spider-Man capturing bad guys and capably defying gravity. I understand the need to get to the action, but Chris Nolan’s Batman Begins was much more methodical in showing you the evolution of Bruce Wayne into Batman. A lot of that was drawn from Frank Miller’s Batman: Year One which wanted to tell the story of a “green” Batman. However, in the book and in Nolan’s film, Bruce Wayne is pretty much Batman by the end.

It don’t want Titan to get off so easy. I took a Breaking Bad approach to Titan. Vince Gilligan, the creator of Breaking Bad, decided to make a show about Joe Blow becoming Scarface. He didn’t want the guy to just *be* Scarface, he wanted to take us on that journey--how do we dispose of a body? How do we actually distribute the drugs we make?. How do we insulate and protect ourselves. Similarly, I didn’t want Titan to obtain his powers and be fighting supervillains in the next chapter. I tried to portray the point of view of someone who was a regular person, like we all are, and give him superpowers. What does that person think about? How does he come to terms with the fact that he’s climbing a building when only a month ago his biggest concern was math homework.

I don’t want people to think the book is all psychological. It’s not. I like writing action and set-pieces far more than introspective stuff, but it’s all necessary. It makes the action better. I wanted to earn Eric Steele’s transition into Titan. And even once he makes that transition, he is still an 18 year old wielding a tremendous power that he doesn’t understand. He’s not an expert yet. He’s going to make mistakes.

4. Who are your favorite superheroes and villains?

-Batman is my absolute favorite superhero because he doesn't have traditional powers. Batman's intellect IS super (and so is his wallet). He's always 3 steps ahead. He’s a big influence on "Titan;" not every superhero needs to be dark and brooding, but giving them flaws and problems makes them relatable. We root for them and want them to win in spite of those issues. Plus, Batman’s a badass, plain and simple.

Spider-Man is a close second. In stark contrast to Batman, Spider-Man is a jokester. He wisecracks and enjoys his powers even though he respects the responsibility he bears. But, like Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker is smart; he would have been somebody even without superpowers -- he developed a highly advanced adhesive for goodness sake.

In the villain department, the Joker is the king. Anyone who can rattle Batman and get under his skin is worth the honor. Plus, there's nothing terribly fake about him; he's an honest to goodness sociopath and psychotic. We see him as evil, but he thinks he's just having a good time.

I'm also drawn to Magneto (see what I did there?) as a villain. He clearly is one, but I don't see him as evil. He certainly doesn't think so. He can be ruthless and cruel, but he's not coming from a fundamentally bad place. I mean, he's a survivor of the Holocaust AND he's persecuted for being a mutant. You can understand his perspective, which makes for great storytelling when your heroes must oppose him.

5. Who are your favorite writers (both comics and novels):

- Stephen King, Cormac McCarthy, and Elmore Leonard are the greats as far as I'm concerned. King knows how to create a world (oftentimes a terrifying place) and center you inside of it completely. McCarthy bends the English language to his will. And no one does dialogue like Leonard.

J. Michael Straczynski, Peter David, Jeph Loeb, Brian Vaughn, and Frank Miller are some comic authors I like, though there are many others.

6. What are your thoughts about the rise of superhero prose fiction?

- I honestly didn't know there was a rise! I hope you’re right. When I was doing research on other books in my genre, I didn’t find many books quite like Titan. The ones I did find were satirical or comedies, so I think there’s definitely room to tell these kinds of stories seriously.

We’re in a great time for genre fiction. Superhero and fantasy tales are popular now and only becoming more broadly accepted. I think superheroes are like the modern day versions of the old Greek and Roman legends. I’m particularly drawn to them. I get a tingle when I watch the Chris Nolan “Batman” films or “The Avengers.” It’s exciting. It’s escapism. There’s also something about the battle between good and evil that resonates with me. Maybe it’s a Catholic upbringing, I don’t know.

7. How long did it take you to write your book?

- The answer to that question is more complicated than it would seem. I had the first nugget of the idea when I was a junior or senior in high school. Over two or three months in college, I wrote Titan as a screenplay. I liked it, but there was a deeper mythology I wanted to explore which I couldn’t do as well in that format. Most of the framework of the story was there... maybe I just didn’t know how to write a screenplay.

I wrote the first draft of Titan over about a year after college. I guess when I add up the time it’s been about 5 years. I revised and shared with friends for feedback and revised again. Really, I was dragging my feet.

8. What inspired you to write it?

- There were many inspirations behind Titan, but my sister, Sarah, was the biggest. In real life, she was severely handicapped. My mom and dad had to do everything for her. She defined our lives. She died when I was twelve. As I got older, it bothered me that, seemingly, she died for nothing. I mean, what was the purpose of her life? I got the idea to create a superhero whose older sister was supposed to be a superhero, but she died and he had to do it. That was really the heart of the idea. It gave me a way to lend meaning to my sister’s life because she was in the inspiration behind it. I had to name Eric Steele’s sister Sarah. It’s a beautiful, strong name.

On a philosophical level, I was inspired to create a mythology around the notion of God as a being who gave mankind free will and the consequences of that being the kickoff of THE battle between good and evil. God will not step in to save us, though, because free will is a precious thing and removing it is the only thing that would destroy Evil (capital “E”). We have to save ourselves. But Evil cheats; God gave us weapons and powers to make it even. In Titan’s universe, Evil isn’t just a force, it’s a being, equal to God, who wants to destroy Him and be the God.

I also find the ideas of free will and destiny interesting. Can both of those things exist in the same world? If Eric Steele has free will, but he is also Titan and Titan is here to do something important, does Eric Steele really have free will? It’s a question that’s worth exploring and one I don’t think has been addressed head on in too many other works.

Finally, I’m selfish. I love superhero stories and I wanted a superhero in Washington, DC. It’s the capital of the United States and it deserves a superhero. I grew up in the Washington, DC area--it lends itself to intrigue, excitement, and a variety of action. There are other cities besides New York in the US.

9. Who are your favorite characters in the book?

- I’m partial to Eric Steele’s friends Jim and Drew. I think Jim’s story arc in the book is really compelling and I think he’s a guy with demons, but who tried to do the right thing. The target just kept moving on him. Drew is just funny. While Eric and Jim are struggling with the more fantastical elements of their stories and going to some dark places, Drew is a character who gets to exist more or less in the “real world.” He thinks he’s the coolest guy around, but definitely isn’t.

Of course, our hero: Eric Steele/Titan, resonates with me as well. I definitely put a lot of myself into him, but what I like best about him is how he’s courageous. I’m not even talking about climbing buildings or fighting bad guys--he talks to girls with more confidence than I ever did in high school.

10. Anything else you want us to know?

- I feel compelled to address the fact that my name’s Eric and that’s my lead character’s name, too. I can’t claim ego isn’t involved. That’d be a lie. However, the specific reason is I felt like “Erics” in movies, TV, comics, etc. get a bad rap. The most prominent character “Eric” I can think of is “Eric Foreman” on That 70s Show. He was a funny character, sure, but he was kind of a coward and not really someone you looked up to or strived to be like. I think Donnie Walberg played a guy named Eric in the “Saw” movies... Do an imdb.com search for characters named Eric; there aren’t many. I think my point is made; I didn’t want another John or Jack hero. My superhero is Eric Steele; he’s Titan.

GODLING # 11: A Woman Scorned

GODLING # 11:  A Woman Scorned
By Jochem Vandersteen


>I'm taking you down, professor. I know how you people are. Abusing your power since I've been a little girl. But I'm not a little girl anymore. I abuse you before you abuse me. <
                                                               *
Quentin Alexander was seated in the interrogation room of the New Troy
PD. In front of him was a female detective with a coffee colored skin
and a red blazer and skirt.
   "I honestly did not do the things the girl accuses me of, detective
King" he said.
   The detective sighed. "You know how many times I've listened to
guys saying that just before I put them in jail? Why would she lie
about it?"
   "I don't know. Maybe she was angry because I didn't respond to her
coming on to me?"
King sat on the edge of the table. She was an attractive woman, long
legs, high-heeled, strong, high cheekbones. Quentin wondered why they
put her in the Special Victims Unit. Or was it on purpose, a ruse to
get rapists to show their bad side, to goad them into the exact
behavior they were there for?
   "I understand, professor. I really do. I might be a woman but I can
imagine how it is for a man to be in a room all day with these
attractive young women. Especially the way they dress these days with
those hiphugger pants, belly-button exposing tops... And when all that
power you have, the way they look up to you gives you the opportunity
to do something about the urges you get..."
   "Stop it!" Quentin shouted and rose from his chair. "I would never
abuse my position like that!"
   King crossed her arms. "Too bad I have nothing that backs that up.
What I do have is an injured young woman who says otherwise."
   "Come on, there were never any complaints about me. Ask anyone. Ask
my colleague, Monica Sawyer. She'll vouch for me."
   "What a coincidence. I was just going to suggest the same," a voice
from the door said. It was Wade. "It's time you got the phone call
you're entitled to, Quentin."
   "He's my suspect, Wade. You're SWAT, not SVU. What are you doing
here getting involved with my case?" King's eyes seemed to be on fire.
   "I also outrank you, Detective. Quentin here is one of the good
guys. Wouldn't hurt a fly. He gets his phone call, then I bring him
back in here, okay?"
   Grudgingly King agreed.
   Wade put a hand on Quentin's shoulder and guided him out of the
room. "I've got a good lawyer for you. Cheap too. His name is Marcus
Walker. I got his number here for you."
   Wade handed Quentin a business card of one Marcus Walker, attorney
at law. "Thanks, Wade. You do know I'm innocent, right?"
   Wade laughed and gave the professor a light punch on the shoulder.
"Come on, Quentin. You're on of the straightest arrows I know. Of
course you are innocent. We'll get this sorted out for you. Officer
Janson here will take you to the phone. I've got to go."
Pretty, perky, small and stocky Officer Janson greeted Quentin. She
was one of the cops who arrested him.
   "For what it's worth... If Wade thinks you didn't do it, I believe
him. Please follow me."

*
Quentin used the payphone in the hallway to call Walker. Janson kept
an eye on him.

*
Walker was on the floor, dressed as Safari. Death Dog's shadow was
thrown over him. Walker was hurt bad. His potion had run out when
Death Dog had entered his place, now almost helpless against his
superhuman strength.
   "I never expected you to be that easily defeated," Death Dog said.
He sounded almost disappointed.
   Walker tried to crawl up again. Then the phone rang. He managed to
reach for it. He managed to groan "help me" in the phone before his
attacker snatched it from his hands and crushed it.
   "There's no one who can help you now, hero."

*
   Walker was in danger. And to Quentin's surprise he almost sounded
like Safari. The way the connection was broken made it clear there was
no time to waste. But how was he going to get there? He couldn't just
walk out of the police station could he?
   "What's up?" asked Janson. "You look worried."
   "I need to go to the bathroom. Don't feel so well in the stomach.
Nerves probably..." Quentin held his stomach.
   Janson had no reason to doubt his words. A college professor could
of course be pretty upset by events like these. In fact, she had
trouble believing this gentleman was guilty of the accusations. "I'll
take you there."
   She led Quentin to the bathrooms. He entered while she stood guard
outside.
   In the bathroom Godling executed his plan. Using the shape-changing
ability of Poseidon he changed into a cop and walked out the door. He
greeted Janson. She greeted him back. Walk in the park...
   When he was outside he changed into Godling and using the speed of
Hermes ran to the address that was on Walker's business card.
                                                                    *
Detective King walked by the bathroom. "Where's professor Alexander?"
she asked Janson.
   "Inside... He isn't feeling that well."
   King said, "If he takes to long get inside there to check him out.
Then take him back to the interrogation room."
   Janson nodded. Of course, your majesty. Janson had always been a
little jealous of Darlene King. She became a detective in just a few
years, had an incredible supermodel body, was strong yet feminine.
Rumors were she was into women more then men but there was nothing to
confirm that. Janson herself might as well be a lesbian as well as far
as people knew. It had been years since she'd been involved in a
serious relationship. Oh, sure... Fellow cops came on to her in cop bars
when they'd had a few beers but she really wasn't into cops much. Too
macho, and hypocritical as it might sound not the kind of job she'd
want the father of her future children to have... Yes, children... Her
biological clock had started to tick as a timebomb.
    Now why was that Quentin guy taking so long?
                                                                   *
Death Dog held Walker's throat near his teeth, ready to rip his throat
out. Then the wall went down.
   Godling plowed into Death Dog with so much speed he catapulted him
through the other wall. He went trough two more walls ending up on the
sidewalk.
   Half conscious Walker looked Godling in the eye. "How'd you get
here?"
   "Faith, I guess," Godling answered. "Let's get you out of here."
   He took him in his arms and ran to the hospital, leaving him at the
Emergency Room.
   "Take good care of him," he told the stupefied doctors and nurses.
Then to Walker, "A man I know needs your help. Call the police station
and ask for Quentin Alexander. He needs a good lawyer."
   Walker nodded then went KO.
   Hoping he'd gotten the message Godling ran out of the hospital,
back to the police station.
                                                                   *
Of course, he could've stayed away from the station but then Quentin
Alexander would be a man on the run and he didn't want to be that. So
what he did was, he changed back into a cop and walked into the
bathroom, past Darlene King and Janson. After changing back to Quentin
he left the bathroom again.
    "What took you so long?" Janson asked.
    "Sorry," Quentin said. "I got sick. This whole thing is too much
for my nerves."
    King sighed. "Maybe you are innocent. What a sissy."
   Janson took offense. "I'm not sure it takes a lot of guts to take
advantage of your position. Er... Not that I really think you're guilty,
prof."
   Quentin nodded. "I know what you mean. Thanks. It's just a big
misunderstanding."
   King smiled. "I've heard those words before."

*
>I remember it like it was last Tuesday. He was our Little League coach. A nice family man. Big, bald with a moustache. Respected by all. He was going to teach me how to improve my swing. When all other kids were gone he raped me in the locker room.
I didn't even fight him. I'm still not sure why not. Was it because he
was such a respected figure of power? Was it because I didn't stand a
fighting chance anyway? When I was at my lowest I even sometimes asked
myself if I didn't out of curiosity.<

*
"That's ridiculous!" Monica said to Hudson when he told her the news
about Quentin by phone. "Quentin would never do anything like that.
He's Mister Clean!"
 "That's what I said," Wade answered. He was in his car, on his way to
a bungalow they were going to search for drugs and firearms.
"Unfortunately we have a witness that states otherwise."
 "Then that witness is lying."
 "Probably, but why?" Wade parked his car. Other squad cars had
arrived already. "Sorry, have to go. I'll talk to you later."
 "All right, be careful."
 When the connection broke Monica felt the usual fear whenever she
knew Wade was off to play supercop again. As one of the best SWAT
officers in the NTPD he was asked to take on the most dangerous tasks.
She always had to live with the fear the phone call she had would be
the last. Sometimes it made her wonder if she wouldn't be better off
with more of a potential family man. Someone who wasn't putting his
life on the line on a daily basis. A man who would be home for diner,
to play with the kids. Wade was a handsome and sexy man. But was he a
good father and husband?
 Maybe she was too old to go for a guy like Wade. Oh, she loved him
with all her heart but sometimes she wondered about the future. It was
then that she sometimes wondered if she wasn't better off with a guy
like Quentin. Not that she was remotely in love with him, but she felt
a certain warmth towards him. He was always so nice to her, interested
in anything she had to say or was doing. He was well-mannered, with a
good sense of humor. He even had quite some sex-appeal, but in a
different way Wade had. His calm, his intelligence, the gray at his
temples... Still, she couldn't imagine him as anything else as a good
friend and she couldn't exactly say why.
 One thing was for sure, the accusations against him were nonsense.
They had to be. Quentin was one of the most female-friendly men she
knew. He'd never tried anything with her. In fact not with anyone she
knew. He could still be a virgin as far as she knew. Wasn't that a
little odd then maybe? Could it be that so much time without any woman
had made him so lusting for female flesh that he abused his power like
that?
 No, she was thinking crazy thoughts. She sighed. If she wasn't
worrying herself sick about Wade she was making herself crazy with
other things. Maybe she needed a drink.

*
>Of course, nobody believed me then. After all, I was just a stupid young girl. He was a respected member of the community.
I learned five years later he was shot by his wife when she caught him
abusing his own children. That was when people started to believe me
and a life of therapy began. Therapy to stop me from my suicidal
tendencies, to stop me from cutting myself. My shrink was a respected
man in his field. A big, bearded man in a suit. Somewhat like
professor Alexander.
 The shrink started to abuse me. I wondered sometimes if I had any
part in it. If maybe I led him believe I wanted him to do the thing he
did to me. It seemed such a strange coincidence this would happen to
me again.
 The therapy did good things for me, but not in the usual way. When I
dragged the shrink to court I got the satisfaction I needed. They
believed me this time. They had to, I had a P.I. makes pictures. I'd
never felt better in my life. Now I was the person in charge. The
shrink's life was ruined. I moved from New York to New Troy but still
had the P.I. inform me about how miserable the shrink's life was now.
 I started to look for that wonderful feeling I felt when I got even
with my abuser from that point on. And professor Quentin Alexander
seemed just the right person to help me find that again.<
                                                                     *
Death Dog got up. He shook himself like a wet puppy. He wasn't exactly
sure what hit him. It had felt like a freight train. He wasn't
prepared however to let Safari get away.
 He sniffed. He still had his scent. He could follow it to wherever he
was and then finish his work.
                                                                    *
>The assistant district attorney was a blond woman with glasses. She seemed to be a combination of both the beauty and the nerd. I was quite happy it was a woman. She told me she would do everything in her power to make sure Quentin Alexander would get the punishment he was due. I smiled. I, Amanda Reese would get my revenge once again!<

TO BE CONTINUED

GODLING # 10: Wild Times

GODLING # 10:  Wild Times
By Jochem Vandersteen


Godling stared into the black hole of the 9mm pistol raised at him.
Although with his powers he had no real reason to fear it, he did
respect it. He'd witnessed three thugs ready to set flame to one of
their enemies and had already taken out one of them. Time to face the
other ones. He readied himself to channel the invulnerability of
Achilles when there was a growl from above.
    A muscular black man landed next to him. The man was dressed in
what seemed to be a combination of leather and tiger-striped loincloth.
On his face he wore a mask that seemed to come right from some African
medicine man's collection. The man snatched the 9mm from the thug's
hand and hurled him against the alley wall. The remaining thug pulled a
knife on him, but the man dropkicked him to the ground. Then he turned
his attention to Godling.
   The man seemed to size the One Man Pantheon up for a minute, like he
wanted to make sure if he provided a threat to him. There was a
wildness in him, the fight or flight instinct clearly taking place
within him. Godling held up his hands, signaling that he offered no
threat. It made the black man's face ease. Where there was first a
feral display of teeth there was now an easy smile.
    "Godling I presume?" the man asked.
    Godling smiled back and nodded. "I am. I don't think we've
met before?"
    The man shook Godling's hand. "Safari. Seems like we share the
same purpose being here this evening."
    "If your presence here is about making this a safer neighborhood
then you're totally right."
    Safari nodded. "It is. Good to have you in my 'hood, hero.
There's a lot of work to be done before this is the safe place I'd
like it to be."
     "I haven't had the honor of meeting a fellow superpowered
champion before. Maybe we could sit down and talk for a minute?"
Godling asked.
     Safari laughed. "I don't think we'd be very welcome at a
Starbucks dressed like this."
     "Just give me a minute. How do you drink yours?" Godling
asked. Before Safari had finished the sentence 'black with sugar'
the One Man Pantheon was gone with the speed of Hermes.
      Safari scratched the back of his head. "Where did he go?"
      A second later Godling was back with two cups of steaming coffee.
He pointed up. "Let's take it to the roof."
*
Death Dog had his nose to the ground, sniffing out the scent of his
target, the masked crime fighter who'd dubbed himself Safari. What an
idiot that guy was. Dressing himself like some SM-version of Tarzan. He
could take an example from his own style. His expensive red leather
duster, his Oakley shades... That man was disgrace to the black race,
making them look like damned cannibals or something. He grinned at the
thought of cannibals. Actually he liked a casual bite of human flesh
every now and then himself.
    "You smell anything?" the thug with the shotgun behind him
asked. It was one of Abdar's stupid, cheap henchmen. They weren't
worth spit, but Abdar had insisted on them accompanying him. Death Dog
had agreed because he felt it might be good to have some witnesses to
how he would tear off Safari's arms and feed them to him. It would
serve nicely to increase his already formidable street rep. If he'd
built it enough Master Destiny would probably give him ownership of
Lower Troy.
    Quick as lightning he rose, his duster swirling behind him like a
cap. He grabbed the thug by the throat. "I smell your damn stinking
breath, piece of crap. Now stop breaking my concentration."
    In the corner of his eyes he noticed the other two thugs that
accompanied him raise their submachine guns at him. He smiled and
dropped the thug. "Don't kid yourselves. Even you fools aren't
stupid enough to take me on just because I'm picking on one of your
brothers."
    He was right. The thugs lowered their guns.
    Death Dog raised his head. What was that smell? It was mixed with
coffee beans... But it also clearly was the scent that had been on the
clothes of the last guy that Safari had taken out. Oh yeah, he had his
scent right there. Death Dog was on the prowl!
*
"So, your turf is Lower Troy?" Godling asked, leaning against a
water tower, holding a cup of coffee.
Safari nodded. "Yeah. I figured that part of the city could use some
extra protection, you being busy protecting most of Upper Troy and
Central Troy against the super powered freaks. The people here needed
someone to protect them from the gangs, the dealers and the pimps."
    "So you found a niche." Immediately Godling regretted his bad
joke. In a way he felt he'd been letting down the people of Lower
Troy.
    "Sort of I guess," Safari said. "Listen, if you don't mind
me asking... Are you really related to the Greek gods?"
    Godling sipped his coffee. "Not related directly, but the did
give me my superpowers. How did you end up with yours?"
   "A couple of years back I was a lawyer in Upper Troy, making money
like you wouldn't believe. I worked for the mob, for the stars and
millionaires. I partied a lot as well, slept around. It got harder and
harder to be there in court after a night of partying hard and too much
booze. That's when I started to use speed, just to try and keep up
with my lifestyle. I became more an more of a ruthless bastard, doing
anything to make a buck so I could pay for my expensive lifestyle. I
bribed witnesses, blackmailed clients... And then, one night I woke up
in a hospital... I'd had too much of the wrong drug and if the hooker
I was sharing the bed with hadn't recognized the symptoms fast enough
to get me to a hospital I would've died..."
    Safari gave Godling a curious look. "Why am I telling you all of
this?"
    Godling shrugged. "Maybe you trust me. Maybe it feels good to
unburden yourself."
    "Guess that's it. Anyway, after I was saved in the hospital I
had one of those moments you see in the movies. That life-changing one.
I decided that if I didn't clean up my act I'd die within a couple
of years and would probably go straight to hell. That's when I
decided to go back to my roots, to lead simpler life, far away from the
temptations of sex, drugs and booze. I went to Africa. There I was kind
of adopted by a tribe that helped me kick my habit. Their medicine man
took care of my withdrawal symptoms and concocted a special potion for
me made from plants, animal blood and other secret ingredients. This
potion not only fought the withdrawal symptoms but also granted me the
powers of the animal kingdom."
    "Wow, and I thought my origin was interesting," Godling mused.
    "Anyway, when after a while I was ready to return to the States I
was a new man. Not only had I learned how to hunt and survive in the
jungle, not only had I kicked my bad habits and possessed a mysterious
potion granting me superpowers but I also returned with a new sense of
honor and purpose. The tribe had taught me how important it is to look
out for your brothers and to be a righteous, honest man. I decided to
make up for my past life by finding a place to live in Lower Troy and
take cases for the poor and downtrodden."
    "Nice, very nice. But how did you end up wearing that costume
then?"
    "I saw your deeds in the papers and on TV and understood how much
more I could mean to my people when I would use my potion as a champion
for justice. Inspired by your costume, fast becoming a symbol for
justice, I donned one of my own and started to fight crime on the
streets."
    "Well, I could sure use the help."
    "Good to know you appreciate it. But you've made me kind of
curious... You told me your powers were granted to you by the Greek
gods... Could you tell me more about that?"
                                                                  *
Death Dog watched the conversation between the two heroes from the
rooftop door. He thought about the situation. This was his chance to
take out two of Master Destiny's enemies in one strike. But he
hadn't prepared for that. And he knew about Godling's powers, which
seemed to be harder to beat than Safari's. And besides, his mission
was to kill Safari, not Godling. He had an idea.
    "Kill them," he simply ordered the henchmen that were with him.
    Without question, frightened by what he would do to them were they
to disobey his orders they attacked.
                                                                   *
Just as Godling was ready to tell Safari more about his origin three
armed black men appeared, dressed like they were from a rap video. They
shouted they were going to kill them and fired their machineguns.
     "Watch out!" Safari yelled, his jungle-honed reflexes
immediately assessing the situation. He pushed Godling down so the
bullets went over their heads.
    Then it was Godling's turn to save his new friend. Using the
invulnerability of Achilles he got up, stood in front of Safari and
caught the bullets the thugs were firing at them. Meanwhile, Safari
took a swallow from his potion.
    "Why won't that #@% die?" a thug cursed frustrated.
    Safari jumped over Godling, his fingers forming tiger-like claws.
He landed on one of the henchmen. Two punches took him out before he
could get Safari in his sights.
Another thug aimed his gun at Safari. The hero produced a bolo from his
belt and threw it. The bolo's rope wrapped itself around the gunners
hands, making it impossible for him to get a good aim. Godling used the
martial powers of Ares then to take the guy out with a roundhouse kick.
That left only one thug to beat. Safari and Godling slowly walked to
him. The thug was carrying a Glock 9mm that he emptied into Godling's
now invulnerable body. There was a dry click as his Glock's chamber
was empty.
   Safari smiled. "That's it for you, brother." With one punch
the last thug went down.
   "We seem to work pretty good together," Godling noted with a
satisfied grin.
   "It seems we do," Safari said and gave Godling a high five.
"Maybe we should team up more often."
   "Maybe we should," Godling agreed. Then he remembered he had an
early class to teach next day so it might be a good idea to go to bed.
"I've got to go now, but maybe we'll see each other later,
okay?"
    "You got it!" Safari said. "I'm out of here, got an early
court appointment tomorrow."
    Then they went their separate ways, Safari jumping from rooftop to
rooftop, Godling using the powers of flight of Perseus.
                                                                 *
Death Dog spit on one of the unconscious thugs. Such weaklings. But he
had no second to loose in scolding at them. He had to follow Safari. So
he took a big leap to the nearest rooftop and made sure he stayed on
the scent of the Champion of Lower Troy.
                                                                 *
Godling arrived in his apartment through the window, changing into
Quentin Alexander as soon as he was in. He was looking forward to a
good night's sleep before class tomorrow. Stripping off his clothes
he walked into his bedroom. What he found there shocked him more than
Cerebus, fanged flying villains or armed gangsters. She was in his bed,
naked and looking absolutely beautiful.
    "Hi professor," the female in his bed greeted him
    Startled, he took a step back. He recognized her then. The gorgeous
blonde was the student who'd tried to ask him out a day earlier.
"Amanda? What are you doing here?"
   "Isn't that obvious? I'm waiting for you," she said
seductively.
   "How did you get in?"
   "The super offered to let me in. I told him I'm your sister."
She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "A little charm is all
it took."
   "Please, put some clothes on and leave," Quentin pleaded. As
good-looking as Amanda looked, the whole scene felt morally wrong to
him. And besides that, he would get in a lot of trouble were he to
sleep with her.
   "Don't you want to join me?" she asked, running her hands over
her body.
   "Again, please leave."
   "I can't believe you don't want me. I've seen you looking at
me during class, professor."
    Quentin was getting sick and tired of the whole affair. He walked
over to Amanda and grabbed her by the wrist. "Please get out of
bed."
   She struggled, but Quentin wrapped the sheets around her and got her
out of bed. He found her clothes on the floor and handed them to her.
"Put them on and get out of here before I call the police. You're
trespassing in my house."
    She glared at him. "Nobody has ever turned me down, professor.
You'll pay for that."
    "Invoice me," Quentin said.
    Angry she put her clothes on. She stormed out the door. Shouting
again at him, "You'll pay for that!"
When he heard the door shut he let himself fall onto the bed. It had
been a crazy night again. Time for some sleep.
                                                                   *
Safari entered his apartment through the window. Hastily, he went for
his desk, getting some files he still had to read for court tomorrow.
Being a lawyer AND a superhero was quite a handful.
Reading the files he had quite some trouble concentrating. After all
he'd seen and done over the years he still was pretty impressed by
meeting Godling. Not only by the hero's powers but also by his sheer
presence, the sense of heroism and honor he seemed to exude.
Absolutely, Godling was a hero to look up to.
    The last remnant of his animal powers allowed him to sniff out a
scent that didn't quite belong in his apartment. Behind him!
    He turned around and faced a muscular black man with long Rasta
hair, a big red leather coat, expensive sunglasses and fangs for teeth.
Immediately, Safari was ready for combat again. The problem was however
that his potion had almost worn out its effects and there was no other
bottle within reach.
"Who are you?" he asked the intruder.
The intruder said, "I'm Death Dog. But for you, I'm only
Death."
                                                                  *
Quentin awoke from some loud knocking at the door. Still a bit groggy
he got up and padded to the door. He opened it and was greeted by two
cops. He recognized the pretty Officer Janson.
"Hello?" he said, surprised. He wasn't used to encounters with
policemen in his civilian guise.
"Hello, professor. I'm sorry but you'll have to come with us,"
Janson said.
"Why? What happened? Has something happened to someone? Monica? My
brother?"
"No sir," Janson said. "We're putting you under arrest for the
rape and assault of Amanda Reese."

NEXT ISSUE:
A Woman Scorned

Review: Malevolence (Machinist #1) by Alexander Maisey

I've decided to feature reviews of superhero novels on this blog and am starting out with Malevolence, the first part of the The Machinist series by Alexander Maisey.
In this novella we follow a supervillain called The Machinist as he leaves jail on parole. Soon he is suspected to be behind the giant prison outbreak that has supervillains putting New York under siege. Trying to fight his way out of trouble he ends up helping the superheroes he hates.
What makes this one so great is that it doesn't try to be too smart or literary. Lots of superhero fiction tends to make fun of the genre or is afraid to don colorful costumes on their heroes. Not this one!
In a story that could have an comic book written by Warren Ellis we get cool new heroes and villains (loved Baron Brass) that owe a lot to the well-know characters of Marvel and DC but are not copies.
The action is fast and furious and the dialogue very readable. I was really transported into The Machinist's world.
If you loved Austin Grossman's Soon I Will Be Invincible you will love this one. Looking forward to part 2!

GODLING # 9: Alter Ego

GODLING # 9:  Alter Ego
By Jochem Vandersteen

Uzi's rattled, spraying the crackhouse with bullets. Marcus Walker,
a.k.a. Safari had to use all his animal-like agility to avoid getting
shot. The three shooters were dead-set on getting him shot.
    The shooters, clad in either leather or Adidas had been dealing their
filthy drugs in the crackhouse without any interference for the police
for weeks now. The honest people in the neighborhood were of the
opinion that either the police didn't care about them or was too
afraid to visit Lower Troy. Safari cared though. He cared, and had the
courage of a lion.
    While diving for cover Safari produced a blowgun and fired off a dart.
The dart hit one of the shooters in the neck. The poison made him go
down in seconds. Using the confusion that action caused Safari took out
the second shooter more up close and personal. He somersaulted and
landed right on top of the shooter. One punch was all it took to knock
him out.
    The third shooter started to run, but there was no way he was as fast
as Safari, who could run as fast as a panther. The hero grabbed the
runner by the collar and stopped him dead in his tracks. He lifted him
and threw him against the wall, leaving him as unconscious as his
partners.
    Safari stood triumphant. He was taking back the neighborhood one thug
at a time, and it felt great. All he had left to do now was burn the
crack.

*
Professor Quentin Alexander was walking across the campus ground
accompanied by professor Monica Sawyer. They were both heading for the
classes they had to teach, their arms filled with books.
    "So, what do you think about that Godling anyway? You're the
expert on mythology... Is he really a demi-god like some people say?"
Monica asked Quentin.
    "I'm tempted to say no. After all, the common theory is that the
ancient Greeks made up their gods to help them explain phenomena they
were unable to at first. But, then... Seeing him in action makes you
believe he can't be anything less than one." Of course, Quentin
knew exactly what Godling was. He changed into New Troy's own
super-powered protector almost every day, keeping the streets safe from
villains, aliens and disasters.
    "Wade thinks he's a blasphemer and a fraud, calling himself
Godling."
    Quentin shrugged. "I don't know. He never said anything about any
other religion as far as I know, so why call him a blasphemer?"
    "I guess you're a bit right about that. Of course Wade also thinks
he's a menace to society. He thinks Godling causes a lot of the
problems we've been having. Personally, I disagree. I've personally
seen him do some pretty great things."
    Quentin couldn't help sticking up for his alter ego. "Wade should
check the history books. New Troy was being plagued by supervillains
months before Godling first appeared."
    "Wade suspects Godling was just waiting in hiding, waiting until the
need of the people was big enough for him to be greeted as a big
hero."
    Wade was irritating Quentin more every day. What to say about
accusations like that. And how to say something about them and not give
away his secret identity? "But what's in it for Godling then?
It's not like he's charging money for his heroic actions or
anything."
    Monica nodded. "Wade says he's probably just waiting for the City
to be so dependent of him that he'll start sending the bills as soon
the citizens really can't live without him anymore. Like a crack
dealer giving you a free taste to make you an addict and then charging
you for more."
    Quentin dropped his books. "What? He's comparing me to a drug
dealer?"
    Monica's eyes got wide. "Did you just say 'me'?"
    Quentin cursed himself. How could he make a mistake like that. Or was
it that big a problem? What if Monica knew his secret? She was a fan of
Godling, right? Or was she so attached to Wade she was starting to
believe the rumors he was spreading about him? Would she tell his
secret to Wade, who was obviously keen to make his life miserable.
Maybe Wade would try to get him in court or something for the damages
he did in some of his heroic actions. Or what if he would leak his
secret identity to the press? Wouldn't the villains he took out in
the past try to get their revenge for defeating them?
    Monica started to laugh. "Hahaha! I think you're into Godling a
bit too much, Quentin!"
    Quentin followed her cue and started to laugh as well. "When I was
four I used to think I was John Wayne, so that shouldn't come as a
surprise."
    Monica wiped away the tears that had come with her laughter. "Well,
I've got to run off to class. See you, my hero!"
    "Yeah, see you" Quentin muttered as he bent down to pick up his
books. He sighed when he saw her running away, her body like poetry in
motion to him. He cursed himself for being such a love struck puppy.
Hadn't he picked up anything from Aphrodite's advice (last issue
- JvdS)? There were so many women in the world, why was he still
dreaming about the one he couldn't have? Was that what Apollo was
talking about when he told him love would hurt him (also last issue -
JvdS)?
*

"Hello old man," Walker greeted the man sitting on the steps of his
office building.
    The old man looked up. "Hi Walker. Did you hear about that vigilante
guy who took out that crackhouse?" He was wearing glasses with one
lens cracked. On his head was a black beret.
    Walker played dumb. "No, I didn't, Uncle Terry. Is that the start
of a joke?"
    The old man laughed. "No, man! I heard there's this brother with
superpowers taking out the dealers in the neighborhood."
    "Superpowers? You mean like Godling?"
    Uncle Terry nodded. "Just like him. But then this guy is black and
not just fighting the superpowered baddies and aliens and crap like
that. He's really making this neighborhood a safer place."
    "That's good to hear. Kids around here need some kind of role
model."
    "Seems a better role model at least then the damned gangbangers,
drugdealers and guys like that. You know how many kids around here seem
to look up to those thugs? They think life is all about women, alcohol
and gold."
    Walker knew what he meant. "Bitches, booze and bling-bling."
    "You know, Walker when I was a kid the only thing I wanted to do is
get a real decent job like the white people had them. And now, when
we've got black Hollywood stars, novelists, politicians, football
players etcetera some kids still seem to think the only way they can
make a career is by being a thug."
    Walker smiled. "You forgot about black lawyers."
    "I'm not sure being a lawyer differs much from being a thug."
    Walker raised his eyebrows. Uncle Terry started to laugh hysterically,
slapping his thighs.
    "That look on your face! Hahahaha! You gotta learn to loosen up,
kid!" Terry said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

*

"And that concludes the story of Midas," Quentin Alexander said to
his class.
    "And this class," one of the more smart-alec students said.
    Quentin checked his watch. "So it does. Class dismissed then."
    A blonde, pretty girl raised her hand. Quentin welcomed her question.
    "Professor, I need some help with my paper on the influence of
mythology on popular fiction in the new millennium. Could I stay for a
few minutes and go over it with you?"
    "Of course, Amanda. The rest of you can go."
    While the other students left the classroom Amanda sauntered over to
Quentin's desk. He couldn't help to notice how short her pleated
skirt was. With her slim figure, blue eyes and dazzling smile Amanda
Reese was quite an attractive young woman.
    She leaned over his desk. She whispered in his ear, "I'm afraid
the paper was just an excuse, professor. I just wanted to ask you to go
out for dinner with me."
    Quentin couldn't have been more surprised if . "What? I can't do
that! I mean... That wouldn't be appropriate. You're one of my
students! I can't just..."
    "Don't you find me attractive then?" She gave a little sexy
pose. It seemed more of a mockery of Playboy model then really erotic
to Quentin.
    "You're a very beautiful girl. A lot of handsome students would
love to go out with you. If you weren't a student of mine I probably
would've loved to as well. But is just can't happen."
    "All right then, but you don't know what you're missing!" With
those words Amanda strode out of the room, slamming the door behind
her.
    Quentin sat there a while, staring at the closed door. Did he just
really say no to a beautiful young co-ed who seemed to be romantically
interested in him. He had to have been hit in the head a few times too
many playing Godling.
    Again the words of Apollo echoed in his head.

*
Big D Abdar sat at his desk, counting money. He wasn't happy. The
returns from his local dealers were down with 20%. It all had to do
with this new superpowered character who'd turned up, taking down his
dealers and crackhouses all over Lower Troy. He wasn't just the
ruling crime lord of Lower Troy. He was also a businessman, which he
emphasized with the Brooks Brothers suits he was wearing. He understood
he could take a hit of 20% once, but not too many times. He had
employees to pay, women to keep in jewelry, rent to pay, guns to keep
loaded. This Safari posed quite the problem.
    His door opened. Two of his thugs rolled in, badly bruised. Abdar got
up, getting the gun from his desk drawer. He pointed it at the man
standing in the door opening.
    The intruder was wearing black boots and pants. His muscular torso was
clad in a red leather jacket. He had the strangest pair of ears Abdar
had ever seen. They seemed to belong to a dog. In fact, the nose on
which an expensive pair of Oakley sunglasses was perched resembled a
snout. But that was nothing compared to what he saw when the intruder
smiled. He had the teeth of a damn Doberman.
    "Put down the gun, Abdar. I'm here to help," the intruder said.
It almost sounded like a growl.
    Abdar hesitated. "Who are you?"
    "I'm called Death Dog. Master Destiny heard about your problems.
He doesn't like it when one of his franchises is doing badly. He sent
me in to track down that Safari-guy and take him out."
    "Tell Master Destiny Big D Abdar takes care of his own business."
    Death Dog snorted. "You've been working for the Master long enough
to know he doesn't run a democracy. Either you let me fix your
problem or he's going to get you replaced."
    "I've got my own men."
    Death Dog kicked one of the thugs on the floor. "These? Did you see
how easily I took them down?"
    Abdar lowered his gun and sighed. Maybe this freak had a point. "All
right, but I get to spit on Safari's dead body."

*
After his encounter with Amanda Quentin felt like blowing off some
steam. It was probably all that testosterone running through his veins
with no place to go. He decided to visit Lower Troy. So much of his
time had been spent making Upper Troy a safer place he'd almost
forgot about that neighborhood. Was it because he was living in Upper
Troy himself? Was it because most of the people he knew lived there?
Wasn't that a bit egoistical and narrow-minded? Crime was higher in
Lower Troy than anywhere. They could use Godling.
    Flying over the streets of Lower Troy he noticed three men leaving a
SUV. Two of them seemed to be guiding the other one. He had a closer
look. The one being guided had his hands cuffed behind him. Were the
other two cops? They were carrying guns.
He decided to see what was going to happen, landing on a nearby
rooftop.
One of the gunmen was carrying a can of gas. The other one put his gun
against the head of the prisoner, forcing him to kneel down. The guy
with the gas held it above the prisoners's head and started to douse
him with it. Godling had seen enough.
    Godling jumped down from the building, totally invulnerable while
channeling Achilles' powers. He landed right between the gunmen, just
in time to snatch the lighter from one of the gunmen's hand.
    "Didn't your mother tell you not to play with fire?" he said and
punched the guy out.
    The other guy pointed his gun at the hero. "You should've stayed
out of this neighborhood, Godling!"
    At that exact moment there was a loud growl and a human shape came
jumping down from the rooftop.


NEXT ISSUE:
Godling and Safari finally meet!

GODLING # 8: BALLAD OF LONELINESS

GODLING # 8:  BALLAD OF LONELINESS
By Jochem Vandersteen



The teeth of Cerberus came dangerously close to Godling's neck. He
could feel the hot breath of the hellhound in his face. With his left
hand the tried to hold back one of the creature's heads, with his
right another. Unfortunately that left the third head free to attack.
    "Cerberus, here boy!" A musical voice sounded, just as the
creature's teeth were ready to bore into the One Man Pantheon's
skin.
    The hellhound had suddenly lost all interest in its prey and simply
walked past Godling, seeking out the owner of the beautiful voice. When
the dog found the owner it sat beside her like a puppy. She patted it.
    Her beauty was beyond anything Godling had ever seen, even
surpassing Monica's. Her hair seemed to be made of gold, her skin
like alabaster, her eyes bottomless pools of blue. Butterflies and
doves surrounded her, seemingly wanting to bask in her beauty. She wore
a silk, pink robe, held together by an embroidered girdle. Godling knew
it was her cestus, the magic girdle that aroused passion for the
wearer. Perhaps a weapon even more powerful than Zeus' lightning
bolt. Her name was Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. Godling
noticed his mouth was hanging open.
     "If you are so full of unbridled aggression you feel the need to
tangle with the hellhound you must be troubled in matters of the
heart."
     Godling sighed. He felt silly. Indeed, he was so full of
frustration and anger he'd just been looking for something to fight.
The hellhound had seemed a proper opponent to vent his rage. "No use
keeping secrets from a goddess, right?"
     She smiled. The radiance almost made him squint his eyes.
"Indeed, Godling. Sit down and tell me what ails you."
     She sat down on a large boulder and patted the boulder next to it.
Godling joined her while Cerberus lay down at her feet.
     "It's mainly all about this woman I'm in love with. We get
along great but she just doesn't seem attracted to me you know?"
     Aphrodite nodded. "The well-known 'you are a like a brother'
to her? Almost as old as we are."
     "Yeah, I guess. You know, all these powers I've got they just
make me see even more how useless my life is without love. All those
gifts you bestowed upon me cannot help me receive the love I crave."
     "Technically they of course can," Aphrodite said.
"Channeling my power you can make yourself attractive to anyone."
     Godling gave it a thought. He knew the powers of her cestus. He
could make Monica fall in love with him in an instant. But would it
really be love? Or would it be just empty lust? In essence he would
make her love him. Was that what he wanted? Force her to love him? Was
that really love that he felt for her then? He shook his head
vehemently. "No, that would be like raping her. I can't do that."
    Aphrodite smiled. "We chose the right emissary."
    "Hmmm. Thanks. Oh, but on top of that she's in love with
another guy. Someone who's way more macho than I am. Looks like some
movie star."
    "If I may say, you look like the embodiment of the ultimate movie
star."
    "Yeah, like this. But not as Quentin Alexander. Just take a look
at me." Godling changed to his normal identity of college professor,
a man of average build with glasses and a graying beard.
     "I think you exude a certain intelligence and charm. I am sure
many women find you attractive."
     "Thanks, but my track record isn't all that great."
     "Maybe because you've been focusing on your great love so much
you have not noticed the attention of others."
     Quentin laughed. "How many men have a goddess for a shrink!"
    Aphrodite gave him a blank stare. Apparently the gods were not very
good with irony.
     "I just feel lonely a lot. Since my mom died I've always been
hiding behind my books, studying and studying. Then I lost myself in
teaching, lecturing, writing. But being Godling has made me confront
death a few times now, making it clear to me that maybe it's time I
really started living before I'm dead. I mean, who will miss me when
I'm dead? I've been such a loner most of my life..."
     "You are of course always welcome here whenever you feel lonely,
but I understand your needs. It is very natural to find someone to
start a family with. You are a wonderful man, Quentin. That is why we
choose you. You will make someone very happy, I am sure of that."
Quentin put a hand on Aphrodite's leg. "Thank you, Aphrodite. You
are very kind."
     "What are you doing with my lover!" a voice rumbled, the
antithesis of Aphrodite's musical voice. It belonged to Ares, the god
of war.
    Quentin held up his hands. "Wait, this isn't what it seems!"
    Ares drew his sword. "Are you calling me a fool? I have killed
men for less!"

                                                        *
Marcus Walker was sitting in his living room, watching CNN. He was
watching the footage of how Godling had managed to chase off the
strange spaceship that had visited New Troy just days ago.
     The strange hero had everyone talking. He seemed to be a form of
hope in a city that was being plagued by more and more strange threats.
Almost a symbol for the good people of the city that you could fight
against the dangers and win. More or less this hero was what he wanted
to be for the people of his neighborhood. He wanted to show that one
man can make a difference. That you should stand up for what's right.
But was he living up to his full potential, just trying to help the
community in the courtroom? His potion gave him amazing powers, maybe
not as amazing as Godling's but significant nonetheless. Shouldn't
he be doing something with them?
     He walked into his bedroom and pulled a large chest from under
bed. It was decorated with African artwork. He opened it, gazing at the
traditional African clothing inside it. With some modifications it
might make the symbolic costume he would need to become his own
neighborhood's Godling.

                                                                  *
Godling caught Ares' sword on his steel wristbands, preventing the
separating of his head from his body. Retaliating, he kicked the God of
War in the stomach.
Ares grunted and reacted with a roundhouse punch against Godling's
jaw. The godlike power of the blow lifted the One Man Pantheon from his
feet. With a thud he landed in the grass.
Ares charged, his sword above his head, ready to plunge it in the heart
of his mortal enemy. Godling however, did a leg sweep resulting in Ares
falling down in the grass beside him, dropping his sword.
     Usually, when facing hand-to-hand combat Godling channeled Ares'
powers making him almost invincible. This time he had to rely on his
own, very meager combat skills since Ares would of course not lent him
his powers now. What he could use of course was the strength of
Hercules! He grabbed Ares by the hair, lifting him by it and started to
spin around. When he'd gained enough momentum he let the God of War
fly, straight into a tree that broke in two upon contact.
     Godling ran at Ares. He punched the God of War in the face the
moment he got up again. Ares shook his head a few times like a wet dog,
seemingly to shake off the stars he was seeing and countered with a
roundhouse kick that knocked the One Man Pantheon off his feet.
     Ares put a feet on Godling's chest, pinning him down.
"Insolent dog!" Ares yelled and drew a dagger from his boot. "I
will kill you!"
     He raised his dagger above his head, ready to plunge it down in
Godling's chest. But before the dagger hit home a slender hand
enclosed the God of War's wrist, stopping it.
     "Don't," the owner of the slender hand said. That marked the
second time that day the voice of Aphrodite was the prelude of
Godling's rescue.
     Ares shook his wrist loose from her grip. "Do not meddle into
the affairs of warriors."
     Aphrodite crossed her arms defiantly. "I am not some stupid
nymph you can order around, Ares. I am a full Olympian like you. I
meddle in whatever affair I seek necessary. The fact that the reason
you fight is me gives me more than the right to intervene."
    "You like me fighting over you and you know it! Is it not that
almost blood-crazed lust for you that makes you so enamored with me?"
    "You have had your fight and I have had my ego caressed, all
right? Zeus would surely frown upon you would he discover you were
trying to kill the Emissary of the Olympians.   Have you forgotten the
duty we have chosen this human to fulfill?"
    "Maybe you are right," Ares grumbled. "I will allow him to
live."
    "Good, now please help him up and let the three of us go and
drink some nectar."
Ares held out a strong hand to Godling and helped him up. "Come,
Emissary. Let us go for a drink."

                                                       *


Marcus had no trouble jumping from rooftop to rooftop after ingesting
the magic potion that fuelled him with the skills and agility of the
animal kingdom. He was patrolling the streets more like a predator than
a policeman. Looking for a criminal to defeat, an innocent to protect
but even more to mark his territory as the new defender of New Troy.
     After an hour he found exactly what he had been looking for. Three
black gangbangers, all bling-bling and attitude having cornered a
shaking young black man against an alley wall. His animal-like hearing
allowed Marcus to hear every word.
     "You don't pay the vig we take it outta your head, man. We
give you a good kicking, make us feel better," one of the gangbangers
said. He hit the young man in the face.
     "Yeah," another one agreed. "You not able to pay for the
dope then the supply stops and we turn you into an example for the
other idiots that think about not paying." He kicked the young man in
the stomach.
     "Enough!" Marcus yelled and dropped down from the rooftop like
a predator from a tree.
     "What the --," one of the gangbangers uttered. A second later
Marcus knocked him out by landing on top of him.
      Another thug drew a pistol. "Don't know who you are but I'm
gonna cap you!"
      Marcus leaped straight into him, punching him in the face with
his left hand while his right grabbed the gun. Another thug down.
     The third one drew a knife. Marcus gave him a smile. "Run while
you can."
      The gangbanger was either stupid or brave. Whatever the case
might be, he attacked. Marcus grabbed him by the wrist and twisted it.
The knife dropped.
      Marcus stared the thug right in the eyes. The pantherlike pupils
of Marcus made the thug almost wet his pants.
      "I'm Safari. And I'm taking back the streets. Spread the
word after you wake up again."
      "Wake up?" the gangbanger asked. Half a second later a
headbutt took him down.
      Scared by the sudden appearance of the animal like savior the
young man was still cowering against the alley wall.
      "You have nothing to fear from me as long as you don't harm
others. But I heard you swallow the infernal poison these lowlifes
sell. Do something about it, because maybe next time I won't be
around to save you. Go to a detox clinic. Get your act cleaned up. Be
an example."
      The young man nodded. Marcus was not naïve enough the kid would
act upon his advice. But he had to try to make a difference. And this
was a start.
     He jumped up, grabbing hold of a fire escape and used it to climb
back to the rooftops again.

                                                             *

"...so I tell her, you should try to go into a juggling contest with
Geryon!" Ares clapped Godling on the shoulder, laughing.
       They were seated at a long table in a tavern, drinking nectar
from huge chalices. Godling felt more than a little drunk, but also he
felt a bit at home. It was nice to hear all these mythological stories
he'd never heard of before directly from the source.
       Aphrodite was with them, an arm around both of them. "Tell him
about the seven Cabiri!"
       Ares laughed again. "That is another great tale you might not
have heard..."
       An incredible handsome blond man came in and put a hand on
Godling's shoulder. "Enjoy your time here, Emissary. There is great
adversity to come your way in days to come. Love will exist to hurt
you, mark my words."
       Godling recognized the man as Apollo, and knew his prophecies
always came true. Suddenly he'd lost his taste for nectar.


NEXT ISSUE:
Godling returns to Earth and finds new dangers!

GODLING # 7: BATTLE FOR EARTH

GODLING # 7: BATTLE FOR EARTH
By Jochem Vandersteen


New Troy Main Square was filled with armed cops. All their guns pointed
at the sky where six hours earlier the strange UFO disintegrated a
police helicopter. Some cops were holding back the news people and
crowd that was trying to get an idea of just what was going on there.
But in all honestly, the NTPD had no real idea either.
Sergeant Wade Hudson was talking to his captain, Dirk Kray, a tall
man with graying hair and a face scarred by a lifetime of being a cop.
"Cap, where the hell are those Marines we asked for? We need some
serious help. I don't know where that ship came from but we need
something heavy to take it down. Regular bullets just don't seem to
do the trick. They just seem to bounce off."
"Come on, Hudson. You know these kinds of things take time. Even
with the whole country on a state of alert for terrorist threats."
A young, perky female cop asked, "Do you think it's a terrorist
attack?"
"What I think, officer Janson, is that this whole city is being
threatened by one strange enemy after another the last year or so and
I'm getting very tired of it. And it's even gotten worse when that
Godling showed up."
"But he's been doing some amazing things as well. He took out
those Speed Demons, those Airsharks, that Panzerguy and Icepick. He
seems to be an honest to gosh superhero!" Janson's face was full of
excitement.
Wade sighed. "Great. He's got a groupie." He looked up at the
UFO. "I'm getting sick and tired of waiting for what that thing's
planning to do. Get me some heavier artillery."
"Something like this," a SWAT officer said and handed him a
rocketlauncher.
Wade smiled. "That's the ticket. Let's see what that tin can
has to offer against this baby."
The excitement on Main Square suddenly grew even bigger. The flashes
of cameras were blinding. Everyone was talking all at once. They were
all either pointing or making way for the figure coming through the
crowd. It was a man with an incredibly muscled and athletic physique.
He wore blue skintight leather pants and a matching jerkin, a
gladiator-styled helmet and carried a large round shield. Both the
shield and helmet carried a big red ruby, encircled with gold pellets.
The same ruby was in the middle of the golden belt he wore. In his
right hand he carried a large mace that seemed to pulse with energy. On
his back was a quiver of arrows and a bow. Godling had arrived. Ready
for battle.
"Sergeant Hudson, please do not engage the UFO by yourself.
You've seen what was done to the helicopter when it felt
threatened," Godling said.
"Listen Adonis, all you've managed to cause is a lot property
damage. Why don't you leave this to the professionals?"
Officer Janson pointed at the sky. "It seems like some other guys
are stepping in now... Or should I say flying in?"
In the sky three figures were flying towards the spaceship. They
were wearing biker-outfits, all leather and denims. Also, they were
sporting pterodactyl-like wings.
"I don't know who those guys are, but they might be the
distraction I need," Godling said and flew up.

**


Captain Wrakk saw the three winged men near his ship. He sighed. "Not
more of those idiots. What do they think they will reach with their
foolish attacks. They stand no chance whatsoever against the ship's
weaponry or my powers. It is like swatting flies."
"Destroy the winged ones, Captain?" one of the robots on the
bridge asked.
"No, bring them in. Let me practice my powers for a moment."
"Affirmative sir, I will activate the tractor beam."

**

Master Destiny sat watching his screens, witnessing the biker gang he
gave superpowers near the spaceship. He desperately wanted the amazing
technology of the ship to even further his wealth and power.
"What? What is happening?" He saw his men being enveloped in a
green beam, pulling them inside the ship.
At first he felt a degree of panic, but then he saw that there could
be some advantages to this. The cameras his men carried with them would
take him right there into the ship. That could be very interesting.
He shouted at his concubines to bring him some wine for him to enjoy
during his viewing.

**

Godling prayed to his Olympian benefactors that he'd been flying fast
enough for Wrakk not to get noticed. He'd arrived on top of it,
channeling the power of Hermes to not only render himself invisible,
but also to use his abilities as the patron and benefactor of
pickpockets, thieves and rogues to break into the ship. With godlike
lock picking skills he was able to open a hatch on the ship and slip
through.
He was back in the ship again (see # 5) but this time, so he was
hoping, Wrakk wasn't aware of his presence. The only chance he had
was the element of surprise, because he knew however powerful his newly
fashioned weapons were, Wrakk's powers were amazing and he had an
army of robots as backup. For a minute, Godling was overcome with fear.
He'd seen Wrakk simply disintegrate his enemies before they could
even think of defending themselves or fleeing to safety. He clenched
his fists. He could not think about the fear, not then. The lives of
everyone on Earth depended on his courage. And so what, if Wrakk had
amazing superpowers and an army of robots at his disposal? He had
powers as well and an entire army of Gods to help him out. He would not
fail. He could not fail.

**
The three winged bikers were dropped onto the steel floor of the
bridge, released by the tractor beam. Amazed they looked around them.
"Welcome to my ship, weaklings," Wrakk said. "What were you
planning to do?"
One of the bikers, sporting a panther tattoo in his neck stood up
and pointed a finger at the white bearded Captain. "Kicking your butt
and jacking your ship, Santa!"
Wrakk laughed. "What wonderful use of language. I take it by that
you mean you intend to defeat me and seize my ship?"
"You bet your ass!"
"Which again confirms the conquering and violent nature of your
planet. I will have no regrets destroying you."
The biker pulled a gun. "Good luck!"
Wrakk used his telekinetics to seize the gun from the biker's
hand, then made it float in the air just before his face. "Primitive
weapon, very primitive. Let me see what kind of damage it causes."

**

Godling, still invisible was looking at the scene on the bridge from
the doorway. He could sneak up on Wrakk, try to take him out quickly
but he would never be in time to prevent the gun from going off in the
biker's face. He didn't know the winged man and the only mutated
people he knew where criminals but he couldn't just stand by and let
a fellow human being be killed just like that, could he?
The other two bikers were being held by the robots, trying to
struggle free, but not strong enough to break loose from the mechanic
arms. The biker with the panther tattoo stepped backwards, but the gun
just kept being aimed right at his face. He begged Wrakk not to fire
it.
By trying to save the biker and thereby loosing the advantage of
surprise, would Godling forfeit any chance of beating Wrakk? Would
saving one man mean the destruction of the entire planet? The hero
hesitated. What to do?
"Give me one reason for not killing you as you probably would do
to everyone on my planet just to conquer it?" Wrakk said to the
biker.
Then there were no thoughts, no strategy, no dilemmas. Only a human
being about to die and one chance to prevent it. Godling seized that
chance.
"Here's a reason!" Godling shouted, turning visible and
jumping like a tiger, right into the bullet's path, catching it on
his shield.
"The lone hero has arrived!" Wrakk said.
The biker fell down on his knees, shouting, "I'm alive! I'm
alive!"
Wrakk mocked, "You really insist on facing me again?"
Godling lifted his mace above his head. "I will keep facing you
again until I'm sure Earth is out of danger!"
Wrakk moved his right hand, ready to use his telekinetic powers.
Godling threw his mace, hitting Wrakk in the head. The Captain dropped
to the floor. Godling jumped with Hermes speed and snatched the mace
out of the air.
"Watch out!" one of the bikers yelled, making Godling turn
around, just in time to see the robots coming at him. Blocking their
ironfisted blows with his shield he waved the mace around him, clubbing
his enemies, making their robotic parts fly everywhere.
The winged bikers were inspired by Godling's actions. They picked
up metallic parts like robot arms and legs, using them as clubs to
fight off the robotic attackers. Also, their wings proved to be very
useful in swatting away robots that came just a bit too close.
Wrakk rose again, rubbing his head. "I will destroy you for
that!"
Godling, not having to worry about the robots now the bikers were
helping him, dropkicked Wrakk, getting him down on the floor again. He
started to batter him with the mace.
Wrakk found the strength to use his telekinesis once again, using it
to lift Godling from him, launching him right into the ceiling. There
was a loud crack and if the One Man Pantheon hadn't been channeling
the invulnerability of Achilles he might have broken his back. Instead,
he just fell down on the floor.
He rolled up, grabbing his bow and pulling three arrows from his
quiver. He fired them at Wrakk, using the archer abilities of Artemis,
Goddess of the Hunt. Wrakk put up a telekinetic shield however to stop
them from hitting him.
Wrakk started to belt Godling with telekinetic blows. "Just stop
it, you have no chance!"
Godling walked towards Wrakk, his helmet and shield denting from the
massive, invisible blows. "This... planet... is worth... fighting
for... Wrakk."
Wrakk let up the blows for a minute to speak. "Ha! A planet full
of power-hungry, war loving primates?"
"A people who keep overcoming great disasters and tragedies. A
people for who family means everything. A brave bunch of people. Just
look outside at the policemen doing their duty to protect the innocent
citizens from you."
"There is no use trying to talk me out of this. I know my duty."
Then, grimly Godling said, "Then I know mine." With those words
he channeled the speed of Hermes and started to beat his enemy with the
pulsing mace. So fast came the blows that Wrakk was unable to focus on
using his powers.
Godling felt disgust at the violence he was inflicting but he knew
he had no choice. For Earth to survive Captain Wrakk had to fall. And
fall he did...
Battered and bleeding Wrakk went to his knees... "Incredible,"
he uttered and went facedown on the floor.
Godling surveyed his environments. All robots seemed to be defeated
and the bikers, save for a few bruises seemed largely unhurt.
"Get off this ship!" he commanded the winged bikers. "I have
work to do!" The bikers complied, thanking the hero for his help in
defeating Wrakk and his robots, saving their lives.

**
"No! No! You idiots! Stay onboard! This is your chance to grab the
technology I want! Don't leave or I will destroy you myself!"
Master Destiny shouted at the screens in his room when he saw the
bikers leave the ship.
"I'm sorry, Master," the biker with the panther tattoo said
through the communicator Destiny had made him wear. "That guy saved
our lives up there. If he wants us out of the way, we go out of the
way." With those words he took to the sky, flapping his great
pterodactyl wings.
Destiny gripped his Spear so tightly his knuckles whitened. "I
will get you for your disobedience, fool!"

**

The ship's computers were pretty complicated, but if you have the
knowledge of the Gods at your disposal complicated things can get
pretty easy. He programmed the ship to set an automatic course back
home. He used the powers of the God of Dreams, Morpheus to send Wrakk
into a very long, deep sleep.
With all that work done, he flew away from the ship.

**

"The ship, it's leaving!" officer Janson shouted
enthusiastically. "Godling made it leave!"
Wade Hudson grumbled, "You don't know why it's leaving."
Cameras were rolling or flashing, capturing the image of Godling
flying away from the ship that, with light speed took off towards
space.
"Well, I think New Troy has one hell of a hero," Janson
exclaimed.

**

Flying away from the New Troy Main Square Godling wondered where he
would go now. To check up on how Monica was doing? No, Hudson would
probably be doing that. To visit his brother? No, they'd just argue.
To a bar, have a victory drink? No, he would feel extra lonesome,
drinking all by himself. Best just to get home, take a shower and read
a book. Not exactly the hero's welcome of ancient legends...



NEXT ISSUE:
A NEW HERO IS BORN!