The Adventures of Red Devil

Chapter 1 Zhara

City of Angels 2955

“I really like the view from up here,” Zhara thought as she surveyed the exotic and spectacular landscape of the City of Angels. She was perched on its highest spire, some thousand metres above the gloomy streets below. It was not just the view that she enjoyed but the freedom from the noise, filth, and commotion of the city’s teeming streets. She stood up, allowing the streaming air to catch her raven locks, languidly stretching her scarlet clad body. Somewhere among those crowded buildings was her own apartment. She could have found it if she wanted, but she was more interested in other things. There were criminals down there as well, and she was on the lookout for them.

She was the self-appointed guardian of the city, and the only one possessed of paranormal powers. Perversely, she had chosen to call herself Red Devil; a little slap in the face of the establishment that ran the city, but did such a poor job of protecting its citizens. She came by her role quite honestly. Her sister had been kidnapped and sold into prostitution, and one of her high school friends had died of a drug overdose. The crimes had triggered her emergence as a heroine.

She hadn’t even known of her powers until she had been forced to use them. Tracking down the low-lifes who had who had plucked her older sister off the streets, she had found herself in imminent peril. Walking boldly but stupidly into the brothel where her sister was confined, she found herself threatened with abduction and rape. Her reaction had been instinctive. She had lashed out with everything she had. It had proven more than enough.

Her deadliest weapon was her psionic power. With it she could stun anyone within a hundred metre radius. It had been enough to render everyone in the brothel unconscious. In those early days, she had not known how to focus her power properly and in her panic she lashed out at everyone around her. Later on she had learned to refine this talent. When used properly it was a formidable weapon, capable of completely destroying a mind. It could also be used more subtlety. Criminals could be made to tell their innermost secrets, babies could be put gently to sleep, and unguarded thoughts could be detected.

Even more impressive, however, from her point of view was the physical abilities it gave her. She had discovered the most important quite by accident. She had been attempting to extend a field of thought about herself, when she had suddenly found that she was no longer standing on the floor of her apartment, but had risen into the air. The sudden shock had caused her to lose her concentration, dropping her on her shapely backside. That had been only a year ago. Since that time, with continued practice she had learned to focus the power in such a way that she could actually fly.

It was an incredible discovery, and one that told her that her abilities were much greater than she had first thought. Only recently, in the last few months in fact, had she discovered her latest power. She was still working on it in fact, and had not yet found the occasion to use it, although she suspected that she soon would. “Perhaps today,” she thought.

From below came the fragments of an unguarded mind. She sought them out, trying to make sense of them and locate the thinker. Suddenly, she felt a little sick. These thoughts were vile, the convoluted visions of a truly evil intelligence.

But where was he? She tried to narrow the search, reaching out with her mind in an attempt to determine the general location. Then it came to her. The thoughts were not coming from below, but from slightly higher than she was. Her eyes swept to the distant peaks of the Sidronos Mountains. “Somewhere up there,” she thought. Focusing her mind she homed in on the thought source.

“There,” she murmured. Her mind and then her eyes had found what she was looking for. Built into the side of the closest peak was a white tower. It was so high up that no road led to it. It would have been accessible by air only.

She had caught only fragments of the thoughts, but that had been enough to prompt her to investigate. She shuddered as she considered what she had detected. Visions of blood and brutality had filled her mind, coupled with sheer terror. Without further deliberation, she stepped off the spire.

She went for the target like an arrow, streamlining her body to increase her speed. She held her arms straight out in front of her, and pointed her toes, cutting down on the friction of the air as much as possible. She was still learning this flying thing and it took considerable psychic energy to propel her at any speed. Still, she was capable of moving at well over 150 kilometers an hour. While much slower than any plane, it was the best she could do without threatening to rip her costume from her body and hurt her eyes.

She had done the best she could with her costume, eliminating any unnecessary clothing items that would have slowed her down. What she had left was aerodynamic and extremely form-fitting. Perhaps a bit too form-fitting.

Her costume fit her like a surgeon’s glove. It was a crimson, sleeveless one-piece outfit that did very little to hide her ample charms. It was cut low, both in front and behind, revealing a pair of smooth, rounded arms, and a shapely set of set of shoulders. It also left exposed a considerable portion of her snow-white bosom, which contrasted strongly with her tanned arms and shoulders. Her breasts were full, and rounded, swelling her costume above a narrow waist and strong flaring hips. Her tight backside flowed into a set of long tapered legs that ended in a pair of red boots trimmed with gold. Gold trim also adorned the rest of her costume, adding a little bit of contrast to the vibrant red. On her wrists she wore a set of red cuffs also trimmed with gold. These were more for effect that anything else. She had rarely been required to use any physical strength in her encounters with criminals. Completing the costume was a golden belt clasped with a bright yellow buckle inscribed with a stylized R and D. Everything, from her cuffs to her boots, to the material of her costume was constructed of the toughest material she could afford; spider silk, gram for gram the toughest natural fiber known.

Physically, she was a splendid specimen, and her costume did very little to hide that fact. She stood about 180 centimeters, and her tall elegant frame emphasized her high breasts, tiny waist, and long muscular legs. She was proud of her physique, having spent a good deal of time perfecting it. Her flat stomach, smoothly muscled limbs, and strong shoulders were evidence of countless hours spent in the gym. She was a heroine, and she tried to look the part.

Her face needed no help. Even with a minimum of makeup she was a stunner. Dark eyes, like mysterious pools of quiet water, were set off by high cheekbones, beautifully arched eyebrows, and a small straight nose. Her full lips were red as blood, coloured that way to maintain the scarlet theme of her costume. To heighten the mystery, she wore a small red mask. Covering only her eyes and part of her cheeks, it offered little protection against discovery, but so far she had managed to keep her distance from inquiring reporters who might want to discover her identity.

Crimefighting was her life, almost too much so. At the age of twenty one, she was one of the most beautiful women on the face of the planet, but her social life was almost nonexistent. She had tried dating, but had given it up. Temporarily so she hoped, until she figured out how to combine a normal healthy sex life with her crime-fighting career. She had nothing against sex and dating. Far from it; she was looking forward to her first sexual experience. But she did not just want it to be with anyone. The person she gave herself to had to be someone special and she had yet to find that someone. She sighed. There was more than one sacrifice to be made in order to assume the role of superheroine.

The white tower loomed ahead of her now. Up close it was much larger than she had thought. The mountain had disguised its size. It measured at least two hundred metres high and had its foundations deep within the rock of the mountain. There was no way of determining its true size without entering it. There was also no apparent entrance.

She landed on top of the tower. It was composed of a substance with which she was unfamiliar. It was white, smooth, and completely seamless. But there must be some way in. The thoughts she had sensed had come from here and although she could no longer detect them, she knew that their maker was somewhere within the strange structure. Calling on her powers, she probed with her mind. Centimeter by centimeter she went over the tower’s smooth surface, seeking some sort of doorway.

Eventually she found it. A faint, almost microscopic outline in the center of the top of the tower revealed itself to her mind probe. Here was a way in, provided one had the access code or the right tools.

It was time to practice her latest power. Focusing her mind, she concentrated a stream of mental energy into a thin line. It was a flow of energy thinner than the sharpest of razor blades. Sharper even than a finely tuned laser. Only microns thin, the knifelike force field cut into the rooftop, following the outline of the door she had detected.

The material of the tower parted like butter melted by a hot knife. Within seconds Zhara had located the locking mechanism and forced the door. Below her a section of the roof fell away, revealing a metal stairway leading to a brightly lit chamber. Without a second thought she entered.

The room she was in glowed with an eerie green light. There was no visible light source, the luminosity seeming to come from the material of the walls itself. Curious, Zhara ran her fingers over the smooth interior. She was not familiar with the material at all, and she supposed that it must be some sort of new and advanced substance that was not yet in general use. The room, however, was empty, its smooth walls and floor devoid of any sort of decoration. Ahead of her was a door set into the wall. There was no handle or any other type of activation device, but that did not matter, because as she approached the door slid open, seemingly activated by her presence.

She slowed a bit as she entered the next room. The elusive mind she had detected was gone. Indeed, the building was most mysterious. Try as she might, she could detect no life within it at all. Considering the size of the structure that seemed most curious.

The room she entered was much larger than the first room, and almost as sparsely furnished. However, there was one main difference. In the center of the room was what appeared to be a large circular console. It was about four metres in diameter and was composed of a clear translucent substance resembling glass. Above it suspended from the roof was a similar console. It appeared that the two pieces were intended to fit together. A gap just wide enough for a single person to pass allowed access to an inner area about three meters across. Curious, Zhara paused only briefly and then entered the lower circle. As she did the opening closed silently behind her.

“Welcome heroine, we have been expecting you.”

The voice that sounded in Zhara’s mind was so overwhelmingly powerful that it drove her to her knees. Clasping her hands to her head, she tried to force it from her thoughts, but it was as if she was a small child trying to stop a wave from breaking on the beach. She fell to her knees, suddenly too weak to stand. “Who are you?” she gasped.

Above her a holographic image shivered. Zhara’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Nxcathans!” she exclaimed, but you were…”

“Destroyed at the Battle of Orion?” So you Terrans thought. But we are not dead yet.”

Zhara stared at the monstrous image before her. Of all the races encountered in human expansion through space, the Nxcathans were the one most guaranteed to give the average Terran nightmares. They resembled giant spiders, possessing large, hairy bodies, multiple limbs, and a dozen or more eyes on stalks. It was hard to describe them precisely as each Nxcathan seemed to vary slightly from the others of its kind in terms of the number or eyes, legs, arms, and even colour. The one in front of Zhara was a shade of pink. However, there was one more very disturbing characteristic of Nxcathans, they were hermaphroditic and displayed both male and female sex organ prominently on a special appendage that was located directly below their multifanged mouths.

Originating on a low gravity world, these spider-like creatures grew to immense sizes, some spanning as much as two metres. But it was the low gravity of their origins that had helped defeat them. In space combat, they were much less able that humans to withstand the G forces necessary in space combat. As a result they were forced to compensate with very large and efficient antigravity systems which of necessity meant that their ships were under gunned and less heavily armoured than Terran vessels. In the battle fought at the heart of the Orion nebula, the Terran fleet had obliterated the Nxcathans in what was hoped was the last great space battle.

As a species, the Nxcathans had very little in common with humans, other than an overwhelming instinct to dominate. As far as could be determined, the spider race had little or no interest in anything other than conquest and the complete eradication of any race different from themselves. When they conquered they destroyed utterly, killing all life on other planets right down to the level of microbes. Attempts to negotiate were regarded as a sign of weakness. Communication between Nxcathans and Terrans was only possible because the Nxcathans possessed a weak form of telepathy. Thus humans were able to learn something about their enemy from the few badly injured Nxcathans they had captured in battle. Humans captured by Nxcathans were either killed immediately, or subjected to brutal experiments which eventually had the same result.

This last thought ran through her mind as Zhara knelt in the center of the console. She had to escape. Focusing psionic powers she struck out at the invading mind.

A strange sound echoed in her skull. She was later to learn that it was the Nxcathan version of a laugh.

“That will not work, superheroine. Your powers have been dampened by the machine you so cooperatively entered. You are at our mercy and we will do what we want with you.”

“Wh…what do you want of me?” Zhara stammered. She was completely unnerved, never having contemplated the failure of her psionic powers.

“We Nxcathans are now few in number. You Terrans destroyed our battle fleet and our home planet. In order to win the next battle we need a powerful weapon and we think you are the answer.”

“How so?” asked Zhara. “I would die before helping you.”

“Your death may be necessary, superheroine, but not immediately,” the Nxcathan replied. “You are unique among your race in the development of psionic powers. As you know we Nxcathans have some psychic ability ourselves. We believe that properly trained we could become as powerful as you are, and we intend to find out all we can about you.”

Zhara shivered. She knew the history of captives who had fallen into the hands of Nxcathan scientists. Their deaths had been gruesome in the extreme. She glanced at the doorway through which she had entered. It was now closed, and she supposed probably locked, but if she could regain her powers she could forced her way out. Fighting the throbbing that echoed inside her skull she got to her feet. The circle of transparent material that surrounded her was less than waist high. If she could vault over it, she might win free of the field that was dampening her powers. But as she swayed uncertainly in the center of the enclosure the top section descended silently, bonding seamlessly with the lower section. She was sealed in as if in some glass cage at a zoo.

“I think that will keep you there,” said the Nxcathan. “And now it is time to get started. If all goes well your secrets will soon be known to us.”

Zhara could not help asking the question. “What are you going to do?”

“We will begin by breaking your will. My human advisors have suggested that is the best course of action. Fortunately, many of the experiments we intend to perform will help accomplish that task.”

“Experiments?” asked Zhara. “You mean torture. But it will do you no good. I don’t understand any more about my powers than you do.”

There was a brief silence. The Nxcathan seemed to be thinking over what she had just said.

“We see no difference between experimentation and torture. Do you humans not torment animals in your pursuit of knowledge?”

“That is not the same,” said Zhara. “Our scientists are guided by ethical behaviour in their scientific investigation.”

“We see no such distinction. The goals are the same. The pursuit of knowledge. How the subject is treated is irrelevant.”

Zhara felt as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach. Her fear was so extreme that she was having trouble breathing. “This can’t be happening,” she thought. “How could I have blundered into this trap? And no one even knows who I am.”

Something in the Nxcathan’s last statement broke through her fear. Human advisors? Who would help humanity’s greatest enemy? The very thought disgusted her. And yet she knew that there were men who would do anything for short term profit, never believing that selling out their own species would result their own deaths.

She suddenly felt exhausted. “It must be the fear,” she thought. “I’ve got to control my emotions. If I am to escape from this mess I will have to rely on my own resources.” Relaxing her breathing, she calmed herself. “That’s better. I feel less tense already. Perhaps if I sit down I’ll feel even more relaxed.”

As she went to her knees she knew there was something wrong. “I shouldn’t be this tired,” she thought. “I don’t want to fall asleep.” Her eyes felt incredibly heavy. Perhaps if she just closed them for a few seconds. As she pitched forward a single word popped into her head. “Gas!”