Fly Another Day by Adam Graham & Andrea Graham

Author:Adam Graham & Andrea Graham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: superman, superhero, cynicism, christian sci fi, captain america, powerhouse, inter dimensional aliens
Publisher: Adam Graham

Chapter 2

Superhero Incorporated

Mitch “the Pharaoh” Farrow took a drag on an Egyptian cigarette while sitting on a golden throne in an abandoned warehouse. Not bad, not his usual brand, but not bad.

He was dressed in a black Egyptian robe that went to his ankles, a gold belt, and a gold neck piece. He wore a heavy Egyptian head dress.

The disguise felt silly, but at least he could interact with criminals without them knowing his true identity. He peered at the two thugs below dressed in gray suits. “Bring the prisoner to the judgment seat of Pharaoh.”

A middle-aged black man in a teal suit wheeled in a good ol’ boy tied to a cot on a cart. A soundproof clear plastic shield covered it. He looked like a an Army recruiting poster model with his chiseled features, cropped tawny hair, and blue eyes. His Golden Age superhero costume was Air Force blue.

Teal Suit said, “Pharaoh, I’m Tyler Thomas. I’ve brought Major Speed.”

“Remove the shield.”

Thomas pulled back the shield. Major Speed struggled against the ropes.

Pharaoh laughed. “It will do you no good, Major. You’ve been drugged. In the 21st Century, we’re very resourceful.”

Major Speed scowled. “Costumed villains with delusions of grandeur tying me up is hardly the progress we expected. Like King Solomon said, nothing new under the sun.”

Heh, showed what the frozen pop knew. “There’s much new, Major. You were the symbol of goodness, decency, faith, and civic virtue. On all accounts, you’ve hopelessly lost. Outside this warehouse lay the crumbling remnants of your civilization. All your efforts were for nothing.”

The major squirmed. “I don’t believe it. I’ll never believe it.”

Pharaoh grinned. “Thanks, now I know your sentence was appropriate. Before I formally pass your sentence, I must let you know the reason for your punishment. Do you remember Phineas Dubois?”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t.” Pharaoh sneered. The true villains of the fifties never remembered the lives they destroyed. “Dubois was a talented actor who died as a blacklisted, heartbroken drunk thanks to the likes of McCarthy and his colleagues on the House Un-American Activities Committee.”

The major blinked. “What are you talking about? McCarthy is—was a Senator. He wasn’t on a committee in the House. I didn’t work for McCarthy or with HUAC.”

Why did hateful jerks like the major always try to confuse the issue with whinny nitpicking over the plain facts? “You were part of an anti-Communist witch hunt that persecuted innocent people based upon their association with a movement that you hated. You must be held to account for your hateful movement’s crimes.”

“Has the meaning of irony changed so much in the last fifty-five years?”

“That remark only adds impudence to your crimes. I sentence you to die by hopelessness.”

“What?”

Pharaoh smiled. “You’ll spend your days under the care of a nurse who will keep you constantly medicated. You’ll see, hear, and feel everything, but you’ll be unable to move, speak, or taste. You will see what’s become of the world you fought for. Pharaoh commands it.” He turned to Thomas. “Lock the shield in place.

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