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Chapter Five: A Job for the Avengers
Another “iron man” charged his opponent, back in America at Avenger headquarters. Captain America, head lowered and shield up, was charging Hawkeye, who was pulling his great bow to its utmost.
The Avenger “Gladiator Games” were on, a planned aftermath of the Memorial Meet. Millions of TV viewers thrilled to see these modern gladiators battling one another to sharpen their fighting skills.
It was not, of course, a battle to the death. The rules were that the male Avengers would pair off, round robin, and each try to gain a point over his adversary, while the Wasp kept score.
It would be a point for Hawkeye if one of his arrows could send Cap’s shield spinning out of his hands involuntarily. A point would be made for the star-spangled stalwart if he got close enough to Hawkeye to wrest away his bow.
Hawkeye’s bowstring twanged, releasing his invisible plastic arrow. If Cap didn’t see it in time, the arrow’s deflecting blow would knock his shield away by sheer force.
But Cap’s keen ears caught the whistle of the shaft through the air and in a split second he used trigger-trained muscles to dodge and let the unseen arrow whine over his head.
Hawkeye’s right arm became a blur of motion as he reached back into his quiver for arrow after arrow, releasing them with the rapidity of a machine gun. A smoke arrow made Cap cough, but a whirling sweep of his shield quickly cleared the air.
An electric arrow touched the shield and sent a 500-volt jolt through it—only Cap wasn’t holding it. He had quickly dropped it to the floor, letting it bounce up neatly back into his hand, receiving none of the shock meanwhile.
The bolo arrow with its weighted cords swung through the air and caught Cap around the ankles, pitching him forward for a tumble, during which he might—Hawkeye hoped—lose the grip on his shield. But Cap rolled with his fall, turned a complete somersault while kicking off the entwining cords, and came back on his feet still charging forward.
But the outcome of this contest was never to be known.
“Hold it, you two!” rang out a voice, as a golden form smashed its way in through a window. “Save your fighting for Karzz the Conqueror.”
Landing neatly on his feet near the TV cameraman, Iron Man waved. “The show’s over. Sign off and clear out, all of you. The Avengers have a job to do.”
“But listen,” protested the TV producer, running forward angrily. “We were promised a full hour’s show. Think of our disappointed audience—’
“I’m thinking of them, all right,” retorted Iron Man, “and of everyone else on earth. There won’t be any TV shows again…ever…unless the Avengers handle a certain emergency without delay. Now, don’t ask for details. We don’t want to alarm the public. Just clear out…pronto.”
Cap placated the producer by promising to resume the show some other time; then he told the viewers that the “second half” of their program would be shown at a later date.
When outsiders were gone, Cap faced Iron Man. “Out with it, Avenger. This must be a top priority emergency.”
Iron Man extended an arm and brushed some red dust off. “It’s top priority, double in spades,” he said, then explained the situation. The other Avengers listened with widening eyes.
“And so,” finished Iron Man, “we’ve got to defeat Karzz the Conqueror and—well, corny or not—save the world.”
“Hmm,” said Cap. “You told us he refused to tell why he wanted to destroy Earth. But just how is he going to do it? Any idea?”
“That superelectromagnet of his must have something to do with it,” Iron Man answered. “But just how it could wreck the world is anybody’s guess.”
“Baloneyville!” snorted Hawkeye. “That’s all it is. That kook from outer space hasn’t the power to smash a whole planet. He’s pulling a way-out bluff.”
The phone rang at that moment. Captain America picked it up.
“I’m Dr. Thomas Polton of Mount Palomar Observatory,” said the voice at the other end. “I thought you Avengers should hear this before I released it to authorities or to the public. An amazing celestial phenomenon has occurred….”
The speaker paused, as if still overwhelmed by what he had to say. “A giant comet has suddenly appeared from the remote regions beyond the solar system. It is racing toward earth and gathering tremendous speed. If it strikes earth….”
He took a breath and went on calmly—too calmly: “Collision with the giant comet would cause world-wide earthquakes and destroy half of civilization. And at its fantastic rate of acceleration, it will arrive within ten days.”
His voice changed to a bewildered huskiness. “The whole thing is against all cosmic chance. It upsets all the laws of astrophysics, all the theories of galactic events. I know you will think I’m overimaginative, but it’s almost as if that comet were being—well, being drawn toward Earth by some powerful force.”
“Thank you, doctor, for the warning.” Captain America put down the phone slowly and faced the others. “There you have it. Karzz’s supermagnet must be pulling down that giant comet. That’s the way he plans to destroy Earth.”
“What were you saying before, Hawkeye?” said the Wasp.
“Like I was saying,” returned Hawkeye with a crooked grin, “that guy’s no kook and it’s not a bluff. His threat is for real.”
“So what are we waiting for?” demanded Goliath. “We go to Mount Everest, lick Karzz, wreck his magnet and stop the comet. Simple as ABC.”
“Yes, except for D through Z,” warned Iron Man “which will be all the unknown superscience tricks he may still have up his sleeve. It’ll be tough, with a capital T.”
“Just the way we like it,” said Cap, drawing himself up, his blue eyes smoldering. “The Avengers have never yet met their Waterloo—and never will!”
“Corny,” said Hawkeye, “but true, Dad. Or as I would put it—we’ve never bombed yet against any overambitious adversary and we won’t goof off this time either. Let’s go.”
Captain America stared at him frostily. “I give the group decisions around here, Hawkeye. But since I can’t think of anything better to say”—he clapped Hawkeye on the shoulder—“let’s go!”
The five Avengers strode out of the exhibition hall and down a corridor to an elevator, which took them to the roof. Here rested a rocket plane similar to the X-15, but of an even more advanced design, which had come from the “invention factory” of Anthony Stark when he wasn’t busy as Iron Man. It was specially designed to transport the Avengers anywhere on earth in minimum travel time.
“If you run into Stark,” said Cap to Iron Man, “tell him thanks for his rocketplane.”
“I never seem to see him around,” said Iron Man truthfully, smiling behind his mask. The other Avengers had never known that the Golden Avenger and Anthony Stark were the same man.
Within the craft, each Avenger had their own individual foambacked G-force seat. Iron Man sat at the controls, with Captain America as his co-pilot. For take-off at any time of the day or night, Stark’s staff constantly kept the craft’s fuel tanks filled with liquid fluorine and hydrogen, the most powerful chemical propellants known to rocketry.
Iron Man looked at the read-out dials of the automated check-out devices. “All systems go,” he said. He activated the stud that programmed the proper trajectory into their computerized guidance system. Destination—Mount Everest. Then he barked: “Ten…nine…eight…”
Knowing his job, Captain America plugged in the “live mode.”
“Seven…six…five…” Iron Man armed the fuel pumps. “Four… three… two…”
Cap pressed the “non-abort” button.
“One…zero!”
Iron Man flipped the main engine toggle switch.
With a roar, the fiery propulsion engine burst forth, shoving the craft vertically upward from its upright gantry. “All systems go,” gasped Captain America as the mounting G-forces rose to their peak. “Oxygen, green. Thrust, nominal.”
“Yaw, pitch and roll errors negative,” took up Iron Man. “Ship going into proper pitch-over angle into level flight, at ninety miles altitude. We’re on our way.”
Looking down through a big bottom-side window, they could all see the broad sweep of Earth’s curvature below, and portions of the surface through banks of fleecy clouds—the views that many astronauts had exclaimed over as being awesomely “beautiful” and indescribable. Soon they were speeding over a great sea.
“The Pacific looks calm today,” ventured Hawkeye by way of small talk.
“The Atlantic,” corrected Cap.
“Huh?” grunted Hawkeye. “Well, you brain-boys made a mistake. If I know my geography, the Himalayas are nearer to America by going west around the world.”
“True,” nodded Iron Man. “But by going east, we take advantage of the Earth’s rotation under us, which without any expenditure of fuel, rolls the Himalayas a thousand miles toward us during the flight. So in astronautical or spaceflight terms, the longest distance between two points is the shortest. We’ll be there in exactly 53 minutes and 33.6 seconds.”
“I dig it. But it’s crazyville.” A malicious gleam came into the bowman’s eye. “Say, Cap, back in your day during your first career, how long did it take to go halfway around the world—by ox cart?”
“You know we had planes then,” said Cap, but his voice muted in wonder as he recalled the primitive craft of the time. “The fastest piston-plane speed during World War II was 469 miles an hour, made by a German Messerschmidt. Later, when Howard Hughes made a flight around the world in less than eighty hours, it was considered a Jules Verne feat. Today, we can do it in about eighty minutes in orbit or by space trajectory.”
Soon after this, Iron Man warned: “Five minutes to landing. What’s our course of strategy, Cap?”
“I’ve been mulling it over,” the spangled leader answered slowly. “It doesn’t pay to reveal all our forces at once—we should hold some in reserve. Karzz already has Iron Man’s number with his rust-ray; so the Wasp, Goliath, and I will confront our enemy first. Then, if reinforcements are needed, Hawkeye and Iron Man will join in.”
“Always robbing me of glory,” grumbled Hawkeye. “What if you three don’t need help?” He knocked his knuckles against his forehead as if chiding himself. “What am I worried about? Insect Girl, Elephant Boy, and Star-Spangled Grampa…how can they win without help? So just call on the Ace Archer of the Ages and I’ll save the day. You can help too, Rust Pot.”
Iron Man said nothing, wincing at the word “rust.” Witheringly, the Wasp spoke up. “If all your arrows had points as sharp as your wit, Hawkeye, they’d be too dull to pierce a chunk of butter.”
If the others, thought Iron Man to himself, had met Karzz, they would not be bantering so light-heartedly.
They would find out soon enough what they were up against…
...as will we all, on Thursday, in...
Chapter Six: Mountaintop Battle!
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Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker
by Otto Binder
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Chapter Six: Mountaintop Battle!
Support Atomic Kommie Comics
Visit Amazon and Buy...
Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker
by Otto Binder
Paid Link
