Crysis City Book 1: Fear and Anger

By Kwame Antobam

A world in danger, a child held hostage, and the only thing that can possibly save them is...Bubblegum?!

The Supervillain, Nightfire, took Crysis City, and for six years his god-like power allowed him to rule, as if he were king. But, when troubled teen, Johnny Banks, is given the power to turn bubblegum into anything he can think of and a second chance to save his brother, he shakes Crysis City to its core, as he tries to steal a city away from a god.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483571355

Book preview

GLOSSARY

PROLOGUE

Orrin floated within the darkness of space, watching as a sea of black stretched out before him. He was millions of light-years away from the closest star, but he could see almost every galaxy in the universe from where he was. He could see the individual planets that slowly swam within this black sea. Each one possessing its own unique size, gravity, and life, but he knew, even though each world was different, they would all offer the same view as any other planet he had watched before.

Orrin began to consider counting all of the planets in the universe. Their slow movement within the dark ocean of space would have made the task easy, if one could count to infinity. Trying once in the past and quitting at one hundred trillion, he passed on the notion before it even began to bubble in his mind.

He sighed.

There is nothing worth watching. A voice eerily similar to Orrin’s echoed his own thought. Following the trail the voice had taken to reach him, he looked up, and he noticed a ghostly figure floating above him. With its bulbous purple eyes, grey skin, baggy red shirt and brown trousers, which were reined in by black boots and a sash that looped around its waist, the apparition was identical to Orrin in every way. The specter even wore its cloak with its hood pulled up just as Orrin did.

It was as if Orrin were looking into a mirror, and through one, since seeing what lay beyond the ghost was no different than peering through tinted glass.

Orrin always disliked how seeds of thought bloomed into being in this reality. Though, he had heard others of his kind complain of similar problems in the different realities they watched, some so severe that his race, known as the Kalar, had to abandon watching certain universes altogether. It was a phenomenon that seemed to occur only when a being from the fourth dimension stepped into the third.

Orrin continued to stare at the ghost above him, his eyes beginning to narrow as he peered past his own likeness, toward a…peculiar sight.

Dark red gas clouds swirled around what appeared to be a moon hovering close to a large planet. The clouds were all encompassing, as though a cloak of crimson had been thrown over the moon in an attempt to conceal what lay below.

Orrin blinked and vanished.

He reappeared above the strange moon, the ghost still above him, as though it were his shadow.

Staring at the moon, Orrin’s mind drew a blank. Although he was sure he had mapped every star and planet in this particular galaxy, he could not recall which moon this was, nor could he even remember ever seeing it. Stranger still, the moon was unusually large. Being more than half the size of the planet it appeared to orbit, it seemed more like the planet’s twin.

Is this even a moon? Another specter joined the first above Orrin, causing a new set of deep furrows to collect on his forehead as he narrowed his eyes further in annoyance.

Moons do not often have clouds, Orrin replied irritably, before remembering the ghosts were only his own thoughts.

Realizing he was speaking to himself, he shook his head, and then he looked toward the apparitions. The ghosts, however, had vanished, as they always did in advance of Orrin’s voice. In their place now were only wisps of grey smoke, fading quickly, each second ushering their dissolving mist further and further out of existence.

He turned his view once again to the moon. Curious to see what was below the clouds, he blinked, and a copy of himself appeared.

Unlike the ghosts, who appeared only to relay his own thoughts into his ear, this replica was one he made regularly to view other planets. The clone, however, was more than a mere puppet whose strings he held from outer space. This copy would serve as a window between Orrin and the world below, but it would not imprison him within the confines of only seeing the world. Through his puppet he could experience all five senses, just as any living creature on any planet would, except death. Death usually required pain, and any serious amount of it would make him lose his grip on the strings that allowed the clone to exist.

His puppet sped off toward the planet, stopping just beyond the crimson clouds. Orrin already knew that if he tried to send his copy through the gas cloud, he would likely lose his grip on the puppet, as had occurred on other occasions. So instead, he looked through the eyes of his puppet, and focused on the clouds. Using his ocular powers, Orrin pushed against the clouds, in an attempt to bore a hole through them and give his puppet a clear path to the surface, but his vision could not pierce through the veil.

He focused harder, his sight pressing against different areas of the clouds, seeking a weak point where the red gas was thinnest and where his vision could break through. Finding none, Orrin retreated to his own thoughts. He knew there were only a few phenomena in the universe that could interfere with his vision, and fewer still that could block it.

Maybe if I squint. The voice filled both his ears and his head as another specter came into being.

Yes. That might work, Orrin replied. He once again looked through his puppet. Narrowing his field of vision would concentrate his ocular power into a tighter space, making it seem more like a spear. One that he would hurl at the crimson armor protecting the moon, piercing it and finally gaining a view of what lay below. He simply needed to be careful not to over-stress his eyes, as it might cause damage to the atmosphere or the surface below.

Orrin focused, and his vision slammed into the clouds. Oddly though, the clouds did not give way as they should. Instead they flexed, as if rubber were part of their makeup, stretching and becoming more resistant the further his sight went.

It is most likely barren below. The ghost appearing to the left of Orrin almost broke his concentration. Almost.

Maybe, Orrin replied blandly, while never taking his eyes away from his task. He wanted the ghost gone, and now with only a thin wisp of smoke fading quickly, he had no distractions left.

Driving his sight forward, Orrin watched the clouds thin slightly, but they still managed to contain his eyes within the upper atmosphere.

He doubled his efforts, and the clouds thinned further. Pressed to their limit the barrier that held him back began to melt like ice before a dragon.

Soon Orrin would begin soaring below these clouds, scouring the surface for anything that was worth watching.

He, however, expected to view a landscape swept clean of anything worth seeing. He expected a colorless world inhabited by only dust and sand. One he would turn away from within moments of seeing the wind swept surface, but as the clouds parted he was greeted only by confusion, his eyes widening as moonlight gently caressed his face. It was an enduring kiss brought on by a moon in full bloom, one that made him smile almost to the point of grinning.

Orrin turned his gaze away from the blue moon that boldly outshined the stars light-years beyond it, his smile widening further as lights in the distance outlined what appeared to be a large city, but when he peered at the city and the moon in turn, his smile faded, as a voice inside of him screamed.

How? the voice said, as an apparition appeared beside him. Orrin knew it was not possible for gas clouds to cover an entire planet and its moon.

I…do not know, Orrin whispered, not even taking notice of the apparition quickly vanishing beside him.

There was no natural cause known to him that could create such a phenomenon.

Orrin locked his view on the city across the sea, as something grew within him. It grew from a seed planted by the mystery that stared back at him, sprouting above the dirt, the stem carrying a bud that bloomed into a smile that spanned the width of his face.

I must know, whispered a ghost whose wide grin matched Orrin’s own, but he barely heard the specter’s voice. The mystery that lay before him screamed louder than his own thoughts.

Orrin began rubbing his hands together. He had achieved his goal, and now he hungered for his reward.

Now, what is there to see? Orrin happily whispered to himself. But his grin began to fade, as he became aware of a pulse that continued to act against him, attempting to push him back beyond the clouds that swirled around this odd planet.

But he would not allow it, and the pulse now was no more than a child pulling at an adult. However, he knew he could not stay for long. This mysterious pulse, constantly pulling at him would wear him down eventually, and he would then be thrown back into a dull cosmos.

Knowing his time was limited, he quickly closed his eyes, as he began to search for a good view.

Orrin had always been able to find something worth viewing on a planet, simply by following the tide of fate. He knew decisions pulled fate one way or another. The more important the decision, the more fate swirled around it, ready to flow in the direction decided upon by the creatures involved. A decision made by a group or by a single being could determine the fate of billions of creatures on a planet, and Orrin always wanted to be there to witness the decision, before the tide burst out in one direction or another.

Needing to focus in order to find the largest tide, he closed his eyes and he felt for it, groping with his mind like someone searching in the dark for something they could not fully describe.

At last he found it. A tide so strong it pulled at the fates of millions of creatures on the planet. He rode the tide until it reached an impasse. He felt it swirling in place, continuing to gather the fates of all those affected, until a decision was made.

Orrin knew this was the crossroad he sought. Hoping it was worth the trouble he had gone through, he opened one eye, saw her, and then gladly opened the other.

SCENE 1

Black suede boots with only a slight heel covered the woman’s feet, extending upward to just below her knees where it ended in a ring of cushioned purple leather. From inside the peculiar boots rose black stockings that stretched themselves over toned legs, rising until they hid under shorts that were colored purple with red borders. Her shorts did not cover much, spanning only the space between her hips and her belly button. Thin red straps crisscrossed over her flat stomach, until they reached a matching purple and red bordered top that covered little more than her chest. On her hands were fingerless black and purple gloves, which Orrin quickly overlooked, given the odd blue glow surrounding one of her hands. He followed the glow to her fingertips where a cord of the same color then stretched upward, as it wrapped itself around the top of a pillar, allowing her to hang in mid-air.

Orrin’s eyes then moved to the woman’s face, where her ebony skin showed only a few lines at the edges of her eyes. He wondered who she was. He wondered what she was doing in this room, on this floor, in this tower, but more importantly what he desperately wanted to know was, why she was upside down.

_______________

Duo was cloaked in darkness, as she hid within the shadow of the pillar, her hair extending only inches from her scalp, reaching downward as gravity demanded, and it was always so demanding. She understood gravity’s relentless demand all too well as she hung upside down from the ceiling. Duo, however, was no stranger to odd positions. She held herself up with ease, one ebony arm reaching upward, as a blue colored blastwhip, which began from a blue aura that surrounded her hand, extended to the ceiling, where it then wrapped itself around the top of the pillar.

Duo’s blastwhips were like extensions of her arms, except they only took commands from her thoughts. She had always regarded it to be an odd feature, but it had its advantages. Like long thin ropes, they could extend more than twelve feet, or as she enjoyed most, they could disappear without a trace, a handy trick when trying to appear normal, and she did wish to live a normal life.

Maybe after tonight, Duo thought. If they defeated Nightfire, she could leave behind the life of a Super, which was what normal humans called anyone with superpowers.

A Super’s life was nothing more than an existence filled with fighting, and dying. Normals, however, lived boring uneventful lives. The kind that Duo longed for.

Closing her eyes and inhaling slowly, she kept herself perfectly still, clearing her mind of her stray thoughts before opening her eyes once more.

She extended her other arm downward, and a blue glow surrounded her hand, as a blastwhip grew from her fingertips.

Slowly…Slowly. Her mind continued to repeat the word, and her blastwhip listened, proceeding only inches at a time downward toward a machine that had been programmed to believe that shadow provided safety.

Duo was no more than ten feet above the Mech Guard, who stood at the base of the pillar, but she still could not see it clearly, given that its grey steel had already turned black, allowing the Mech Guard to conceal itself within the shadow of the pillar.

This new stealth mode was now present in every Mech Guard, and they had been programmed to use it to their advantage, in order to catch rebels off guard within alleyways or other areas painted in darkness.

Duo had dealt with Mech Guards, Assault Mechs and Recon Mechs ever since they were first created. She knew they no longer resembled humans, their features over the years having been twisted. Rather than the original two eyes, a Mech now had three green camera lenses, allowing them to view the world through night, infrared, and regular vision all at the same time. Their heads were also no longer seated at the top of a steel neck. Instead, an angular titanium head protruded forward from the top of a four-inch-thick reinforced steel body.

The change was to prevent Supers like Duo from making quick work of any Mech by attacking the back of its neck, which was the problem with the first version of Mechs that Gizmo had created for Nightfire’s army.

These third versions had solved that problem, along with a few others. Gatling guns and blasters were now mounted on a Mech Guard’s forearms instead of within them, solving the issue plaguing the previous generation of Mechs, who always needed an extra second for its weapons to deploy from its forearm before firing, and as Nightfire and Gizmo quickly found out, giving a Super a second, meant giving a Super your life, or in a Mech’s case, their semi-mechanical consciousness.

Consciousness? Duo thought, before she silently chuckled.

Even though Mechs could operate alone or even in packs without anyone giving them orders, in her mind a Mech was in no way a sentient being. The extent of a Mech’s decision-making being either capture or kill, made it impossible for her to declare it a living creature. That and the fact that its brain consisted of only silicon chips and copper wire.

It was a machine, like her clock, like her radio, and it had its purpose, just as the Mech Guard below her had, as it scanned three hundred and sixty degrees around itself, searching for the slightest movement.

It was, however, a shame that a Mech Guard while in stealth mode could not scan above or below itself. Every rebel in Crysis City knew about this flaw, and Duo was not about to be the first to allow this limitation to go unexploited. Not in Nightfire’s tower. Not when one mistake might mean being ushered into the afterlife.

So she continued to move her blastwhip slowly, knowing that even with their limitation, a Mech would move at the slightest sound, no matter which direction the noise came from.

Duo brought her blastwhip within inches of the Mech Guard’s body.

Scythe. The word hung in her mind, and her blastwhip began to curve, the darkness unable to hide its malicious intent as it grew beyond the shadow to cast its own dark image of a scythe on the marble floor. Her thoughts then settled on the word, Razor-Sharp, and her blastwhip began manipulating its thickness accordingly, creating an edge that would slice through anything.

Sever. Duo needed only to focus on the word for a second, and her blastwhip sheared through four inches of reinforced steel, turning one Mech Guard into two, before she ordered her blastwhip to vanish from sight.

The cut was made at an angle, and the top half of the Mech Guard slid away from the bottom, steel seeming to cry out for help as it crashed against the marble floor with a loud thud.

Help did come, answering the call just as swiftly as the cut that divided the Mech Guard in half. She knew more Mech Guards had to be hiding within the shadows of other pillars, but, given how they seamlessly blended into the night, she did not know how many, until three Mech Guards came to a halt beneath her.

In unison they shot out beams the color of jade. The beams widened as they passed over the destruction Duo had created. She knew that once they had scanned the destroyed Mech Guard, they would know to search for an intruder. She had planned for this, and the machines were behaving just as she expected them to.

Unmoving as she was, she watched, as the three Mech Guards cut off their jade beams, turning and shooting them out again around the large hall. They cut off their scanners, and as Duo expected they found nothing. They then aimed their beams at the ceiling, searching until one of them found her. One mechanical arm pointed upward only seconds before two more joined it.

Duo stared at the barrels of the Gatling guns attached to forearms of the three Mech Guards. She sighed silently. Finally. They had caught her.

Identified…rebel Duo. Orders…terminate. Duo heard the Mech Guard’s emotionless robotic voice. She knew her bounty was two hundred thousand credits, and she knew what the Mech Guards would do once they identified her. So, when the barrels on the three Gatling guns began to spin, she made the decision to defend herself, with nothing more than a simple smile.

_______________

Orrin wondered why anyone would welcome their own death with a smile.

The woman must have something in mind, he thought, and heard, as another specter whispered into his ear, but he was far too focused on the scene in front of him to worry about his thoughts. Orrin was so focused on her that he almost missed the birth of three dark figures stepping out from the shadows of three separate pillars, and he would have missed their entrance completely if not for the glow of sparks dancing between the fingers of one of the dark figures.

Orrin’s eyes were drawn to the sparks, and then to the man, who seemed to be controlling them.

The man was tall, his height matched only by the long blue scarf that choked his neck at one end and flirted with the floor at the other. A blue shirt with white trim hugged his chest and six-pack, while hiding the right half of a brown utility belt that lazily hung at an angle on his waist. Baggy black trousers ran only inches past his knee, before hiding within grey boots that climbed halfway up his shins, but Orrin only glossed over these things. Orrin was more concerned with the electricity gathering in the palm of the man’s hand, and the dangerous grin growing on his face, as he stared at the backs of the Mech Guards.

The man’s gloves hid everything except the tips of his fingers, which seemed to twitch more and more as his grin grew wider. Orrin realized that each twitch of the man’s fingers led the sparks of electricity into a faster and faster waltz around the palm of his hand, until the sparks moved about his hand so fast that it appeared he was now holding a spinning ball of light.

Contrary to the man who seemed to conduct electricity at will, the other two figures looked calm as they also stared at the backs of the Mech Guards. The one closest to the man who seemed to have the properties of an electric generator, was tall as well, even taller than the first. A tank top stretched across an immense chest, leaving his large arms unhindered by sleeves, while baggy army fatigues tucked themselves neatly into boots that rose above his ankles. From head-to-toe his clothes seemed to have been washed in buckets of green and black paint, more green than black as Orrin observed. The sides of his head were shaved, and his hair was pulled back into a single ponytail that only reached the middle of his neck.

The taller man’s eyes shifted away from the Mech Guards, as he looked at the boy to his right. His eyes stayed on the boy for a moment, as if he waited for something.

Orrin quickly drew his attention to the boy. He had missed the boy’s first word, but he caught the second, as the boy raised one arm toward the Mech Guards.

Set, the boy whispered.

The boy was shorter than the other two, his hair fashioned in braids that ran from the front of his scalp to the back. From there the braids ran downward, ending at the bottom of his neck, where they brushed against a dark grey long sleeved shirt. A red stripe ran from the neckline to the bottom of the shirt, splitting halfway down into three different lines that continued to run to the edges. The shirt hid the boy’s arms, chest and abs, as well as the top few inches of a matching pair of dark grey baggy