SUPERMAN SWAP! PROLOGUE PART IV by Askia
The redhead just wouldn’t stop screaming.
Superman had had enough. He was just about to fly out of the room when a man, half dressed in a skin-tight uniform made up of blue chainmail and red leather boots burst in carrying a shield. He glanced at Superman, then turned to the woman. “Down,” he snarled at her. She obeyed, as as she did he threw the shield he carried.
It whizzed past Superman’s head –- really bad aim Superman thought (for a second) -– before it rebounded in the tiny room and nailed Superman square on the back of the head with a satisfying clang.
“… Ow,” Superman said, reaching back to rub the spot.
Amazingly his head ached. He looked at the shield on the floor in dazed wonder, giving it an instant analysis with his microscopic vision and being promptly puzzled by its peculiar properties. Whatever that thing was made of hurts, thought Superman, If that man was stronger and the shield had been thrown, harder it would have done some serious damage.
“Mary Jane. Get out out here, quick as you can!”
Mary Jane, terrified, scampered out of the room
Look, I know this looks bad… I don’t even have a good explanation for this
“Stand down, mister-- don’t move,” the man said.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“You want, I can make sure he doesn’t move,” said a voice behind him, interrupting them both. A short hairy man with knives in his hand was standing at the doorway, looking at Superman disdainfully. He flicked his wrist, which made an intimidating SNKT sound.
“Logan… “
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here, I have to go,” said Superman, turning away.
“You’re not going anywhere, bub.” Wolverine lunged at him, claws extended.
Superman turned around and blew a concentrated puff of super-breath at him. It was like being hit with a small truck. Wolverine flew back and crashed against the wall behind him so hard his claws retracted; a man sized section caved in to the drywall where he hit and crumbled to the floor around him. He jumped to his feet dazedly, stunned, embarrassed and a liitle pissed.
“I’m not staying,” Superman said flatly. He flew toward the room’s nearest window –- which must have been made out of some sort of specially treated substance, because the entire section of the wall, not just the glass – shattered against the weight of his body. He caught the section as it fell toward to the downtown streets of the wee morning and turned back toward the building and propped it against an inside wall.
The gathered people in the room –- which in addition to the redheaded woman and the man with the shield, now included a big tall black guy, a woman in a webbed mask, a man in a metal body suit, as well as the small hairy man with the knived hands –- stared at him bewildered.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t have met under pleasanter circumstances.”
“Iron Man, detain him.”
“On it.”
Iron Man’s suit flared and rose mighily toward Superman
Superman smiled, and with a nod and a wink he fly away while Iron Man gave furiocious chase. Within seconds there was a sonic boom that veered Iron Man off course. Superman was gone. He radioed back to Captain America: “My God, Steve. He moved so fast --! Did you see?”
“I saw. Barely. Get back to base.”
Seventeen minutes later, Superman arrived. Normally, a lap or two around the Earth always did wonders to calm him down. This time he added to his frustration.
It was worse than he feared. He was embarrassed enough having woken up to the woman earlier, he didn’t feel the need to stick around. He felt bad about what happened, but hopefully he wouldn’t see any of those people anytime soon. He’d planned to fly back home and investigate what happened to him –- only home wasn’t there anymore. Metropolis didn’t exist. Neither did Gotham, Gateway City, Coast City, Star City, Fawcett City or Smallville. There was no Watchtower on the Moon (but there was an odd blue area that seemed colonized) -– everything he’d counted on being solid and unchanged was changed. It wasn’t just that the city was different and people didn’t seem to recognize him—it was everything. Reality was altered in a very specific way that didn’t involve him.
Who was responsible for this? Darkseid? Mongul? The Key? Brainiac? Somehow he wouldn’t be surprised if Mister Myxlptlk showed up.
Minutes before, he’d gone inside a vintage clothing store in London and bought himself a new outfit with the emergency cash he carried in the pouch of his cape: a clean white t-shirt and jeans, some K-Swiss sneakers. Not his style but functional. He bought a small bag to stash his uniform inside so he could blend in less conspiciously, then he flew back to New York, the site where he’d been abducted: all signs pointed here.
He was clearly in a New York City, but not the New York City he knew. On closer examination there were subtle but widespread differences everywhere: an absence of Lexcorps products, the dominance of something called Microsoft, the lack of a Luthor Presidental administration, the disappearance of Titans Tower on the Hudson and most tellingly, an abundance of heroes he’d never heard of, including those he just saw in that building.
Superman needed to orient himself. He bought newspapers and magazines from an all-night vendor than sat down at a coffee shop to familarize himself with this world’s media. He read copies of THE DAILY BUGLE, THE NEW YORK TIMES, BUSINESS WEEK, THE NEW YORK GLOBE, THE NEW YORK DAILY CHRONICLE, the most recent SUNDAY MAGAZINE a used copy of photojournalist book called MARVELS by Phil Fox.
It was edifying. In this world, it seemed, superheroes were concentrated in New York by a loose network who patroled the city and the nation. There were unapproved vigilantes everywhere: an outed hero called Daredevil, a killer called the Punisher, a sorceror (or something much like one) called Dr. Strange, a beast on the loose called the Hulk. There were references to other groups: the Defenders, Power Pack, New Warriors, the X-Men.
But here he needed to get in touch with the premier superteam on the planet. Perhaps they had the resources to help.
Most of the papers and magazines kept mentioning an organization called The Avengers which had a recent breakdown that destroyed their original headquarters and altered the team make-up. The article mentioned a new roster of heroes… Superman turned the page to see who.
His heart sank.
He saw a familiar looking man carrying a shield, a big tall black guy, a woman in a webbed mask alongside a guy in a webbed outfit hanging upside down, a man in a metal body suit and a short hairy mutant with knives. Otherwise known as Captain America, Luke Cage, Spider-Girl, Spider-Man, Iron Man and Wolverine.
Oh great, thought Superman. Just terrific. Just what I need. So much for not seeing those people anytime soon.
“You want something to eat, hon?” the waitress asked, smiling.
Superman sighed. “Got any crow?”
At fouram Superman walked over to the buidling he’d met the Avengers and saw immediately that it was now swarming with agents from an organization called SHIELD. A small hovercraft was fixing the hole he’d put in the wall. News teams surrounded the building and the pre-dawn New York City crowd, some of whom were commenting now.
Time to face the music, Superman thought. He looked around and then lightly flew back up in the air, up and up to the fifty-odd stories to the open window he’d burst out earlier. He didn’t have to wait long.
“It’s him!” somone screamed. SHIELD agents started shooting.
“Wait a minute…” Superman said.
“Avengers! Half-circle formation! Iron Man, point!” screamed Captain America as the Avengers scrambled into place.
Gunfire and laser beams bounced off Superman harmlessly. “Would you people cut it out before somebody gets hurt?”
Cap threw his shield, which Superman caught in his hand. Iron Man nailed him with a concussive force. Spider-Girl zapped him with bioelectrical energy. All it was doing was burning off his newly bought used clothes.
“Hold yer fire!” A grizzled older man with an eyepatch, definitely someone in charge, walked up to the edge of the blown out wall. “Nick Fury. Head of SHIELD. Who the hell are you?”
“Right. I’m Superman. I’m sorry about earlier.” Superman flew inside, returned
“I’m Captain America.” said the Avengers leader. “That’s Nick, Spider-Girl, Luke Cage, Iron Man and Wolverine.”
“Wolverine? I knocked you into the wall earlier?”
“Oh, that was you?”
“Look. I-I’m sorry. I overreacted earlier. No hard feelings?” Superman extended a handshake.
Wolverine just smiled (not a nice one) and extended his hand…
At the last instant, Wolverine popped a single claw and gave his wrist a flick, giving Superman a deep, S-shaped gash in his right hand. Superman gasped, and grabbed his bleeding hand.
“Huh. You do bleed. Some Superman.” Wolverine quipped.
“Wolverine, quit that childishness and get back to your quarters! Now, mister!” Captain America yelled.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Wolverine sauntered off. “But you better not be here by daybreak. Cuz you and me, bub? We got a score.”
Superman didn’t feel any less powerful, but between the shield and those knives, certain things seemed to hurt him on this world. What it all metal objects? Or special metal weapons? How commonplace were they? It frankly gave him a moment of pause.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I just need a bandage. Then I can explain…”
“You might want to change clothes, too.” Spider-Girl said, looking Superman over. “No hurry, though.”
After the explanations were over, Superman rubbed his bandaged hand and waited. Fury was the first to break the silence. “What the hell makes you think we’ll believe anything you say, alien?” asked Fury.
Superman started. He asked carefully, “What makes you think I’m an alien?”
“Because a round of metallugical and DNA analyses from your hand prints on the wall you smashed through indicated you’re extraterrestrial. If you didn’t want people to know that, you should really wear gloves,” said Iron Man. His gloves hummed softly. “You really need to explain what you’ve done to Spider-Man.”
“I told you already, I never saw him! I didn’t know that was his wife or his room!”
Cap asked, “Iron Man?” It was as if it were a test.
Iron Man looked at the scanner in his hand. “Well he’s not lying. It checks out.”
“Relax, Avengers. I am from outer space, but… I come in peace!”
The room was deadly silent for a few awkward moments, then Captain America said softly, “All right, everybody. Calm down. It’s just a bad joke. No need to kill him.” Which did get a chuckle.
“Anyone that corny deserves the benefit of the doubt,” Captain America suggested. “Iron Man?”
“Well – there were some unusual energy readings in the room that might corroborate what he’s saying. If this is the case, whatever got him may have gotten Spider-Man.”
Captain American said thoughtfully. “Your best bet is to have a meeting with the planet’s foremost authority on dimensional travel.”
“Who’s that?” Superman asked.
“Dr. Reed Richards of a group called the Fantastic Four,” said Captain America.
“Unfortunately — he and the rest of the Fantastic Four are – travelling in other dimensions.”
“Negative Zone?” Spider-Girl asked.
Cap replied, “No. Subatomic universe.”
“Didn’t they just do some time travel?” Luke Cage asked.
“They were mapping alternate timelines,” Nick Fury answered.
Superman cried. “Enough, please! When will they get back?”
“Who knows? It’s the FF. They can drop and leave at the drop of a hat.”
“Well, what do I do?”
“Stay out of trouble. We’ll be keeping an eye on you, make no mistake,” said Fury.
“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to bed.” Luke Cage yawned. “Look Superman, good to meetcha, but you got me out of bed on a false alarm once tonight. You only get three.”
“Night, Cage.” Cap said as the Hero for Hire walked off. Spider-Girl and Iron Man said their goodbyes as well.
Superman said, “You don’t mind if I … continue to fight crime here? Or I could fight crime with you.”
CaptIn America looked decidedly uncomfortable as he said, “I thank you for your enthusiasm, Superman. But we have professionals on staff with the Avengers. We’ve no need for talented amateurs.”
“I’m not an amatuer. I’ve been a crimefighter for decades.”
“Only an amatuer would wreck that room the way you did. All you had to do was stop and explain yourself.”
“It never occurred to me that redhead didn’t know who I was because I was the anomaly. Back where I come from, everyone knows who I am!”
“You have no reputation here, Superman. Don’t be surprised if you get treated like a rookie.”
“Okay. I may prove to be useful to you. Maybe I can lend a hand until I find a way home.”
“SHIELD won’t shelter you or feed you, except to throw your ass in jail if you step oyt over the line. We got enough problems dealing with this bunch.” Fury muttered.
“I don’t need food or board.”
“We know you can fly. What else can you do?” Cap asked.
Superman decided not to overwhelm these people and gave them the basic information. “I’m very fast. I have enhanced strength, keenly superhuman senses and reflexes to match. I’m very hard to hurt. When I do get hurt, I heal fast.”
“Like Wolverine, I suppose.”
“No offense, from what I’ve seen, I’m nothing like him.”
“You’re not really scoring points trying to prove how tough you are with a proven member of my team. How would you rate your strength? Class one hundred?” Cap continued.
“What’s class one hundred?”
“It means you can lift a hundred tons. Can you lift that much?”
“Tell me… do you have a class one thousand?” Superman said with a grin.
Cap frowned. “Now you’re just bragging, solider.”
“Sorry. Don’t mean…”
“Master Captain America, sir? I do so hate to interrupt.”
“Jarvis?”
“There’s a call of some urgency from the Manhattan police. It appears there’s a rather serious matter downtown with the Daily Bugle again. Someone’s called in a bomb threat.” Jarvis said, holding a phone.
“At five o clock in the morning? Half my team just went to sleep. Scramble the Avengers in five minutes and…”
“I can take care of that, Captain.” Superman said.
“What–? No.”
“Seriously, Captain. If it’s going to take a whole five minutes just to assemble the team…” in a flurry of super-speed, Cap realized he was suddenly alone in the room. Superman flew off.
“Where’d he…?” Captain America said, looking around, growing angry. “I don’t believe him.”
“Jarvis? Call Tony and Jessica to intercept. We have a potential situation here. AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!”
Treat me like a rookie? Now it’s time to show these marvelous heroes what the distinguished competetion can do. Not that this was a competition, Superman corrected himself. We’re all on the same side.
Within seconds, he entered the higher offices of the Daily Bugle, he saw a worried looking older black man walking from room to room, looking around, shutting doors. Superman spoke: “Why are you still in the building? I thought there was a bomb.”
The man looked dumbfounded, then slowly spoke. “Yeah, it is. I took the call and evacuated the few employees we’ve got. I’m just doing a final sweep… I’m Joseph Robertson, city editor. Excuse me, but you are…?”
“Oh, right. I’m working with the Avengers, Mr. Robertson. I’m here about the bomb threat, too. Call me Superman. I’m new.”
“I see. Super-Man. That’s your name? Super-Man?”
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s a bit simplistic,”
“Really.”
“I never really thought about it before but — Thor. That’s a superhero name. The Human Torch. That goes back aways, y’know. That’s a superhero name. Toro. The Sub-Mariner. Wonder Man. Ms. Marvel. The Whizzer. Doctor Strange. Captain Marvel. Now those are some…”
“Captain Marvel sounds better than Superman? The Whizzer sounds better than Superman?”
“Sure.”
“Gee, I hope I can still find that bomb for you.”
“Damn, bomb squad. Can you believe they had the audacity to try and keep me out of my own building? Robbie, you haven’t cleared this floor yet? What the hell is this clown in the big red cape doing here? Is he from Asgard? What the hell? And what happened to his hand?”
“Jonah, take a breath. He says he’s with the Avengers… Super-Man, show him your card.”
“I, uh, don’t have card yet.”
“No card?”
“What’s this crap about not having a card? EVERY Avenger’s got a card. The Hulk has a card and he can’t even read. Daredevil has a card and it’s not even in Braille!” Jameson sputtered.
“How can you be with the Avengers without a card?” Robertson seemed puzzled.
“It happened kind of suddenly,” Superman said, sticking his head in a doorway and looking around with his x-ray vision. No bomb yet…
“Hey, YOU. Get out of there! That’s the women’s bathroom, weirdo. Don’t parade your pathetic perversions at my paper!” Jameson yelled.
“Uh… if you’re with the Avengers, where’s Captain America or…?” Robertson asked.
“Okay, I see it,” Superman said with relief. “The parking garage downstairs. It’s on the udercarriage of a new white van down there. Stand back!”
Whirling at superspeed like a top, his superhuman kryptonian hard toed boots gouging the floorboards like a giant drill sending up bits of floor everywhere. In seconds he’d bored a man sized hole through the floorboards and burst his way down, floor by floor, for ten floors, until he hit the lower parking deck.
Distantly he heard a voice screaming, “Oh, my God. What the hell are you doing to my building?”
He ignored it. The bomb was dead ahead, stuck underneath the undercarriage of a truck… primed to go off in mere minutes. It wasn’t a design he recognized, but everything about this place seemed so off he decided not to take any chances. He walked over to the truck, lifted it over his shoulders and flew out the parking garage entrance.
He narrowly missed colliding with Iron Man in mid-air.
“What’s happening?” Iron Man asked
“No time, no time. The bomb!” Superman flew off. Thirteen seconds left.
He raced toward the river, speeding against the salty air and rush of morning wind, until he was some two miles out. He lifted the truck, noticed the seconds he had left, and threw the truck in the deepest part of the river and waiteds. Flanking him on either side were Spider-Girl and Iron Man. He just pointed down. They waited above the churning waters, bracing for the explosion…
It didn’t go off.
“But it didn’t go off! said Spider-Girl. “You sure that was it? Why’d you throw the whole truck in the river?”
“Oh, well. We’d better get back,” said Iron Man.
Superman, Iron Man and Spider-Girl flew back to shore. Only Superman was of the opinion everything would be fine. It’ll be good to hear a little gratitude about his swift, decisive actions, he thought.
