"Something bad, really bad," the Operator told her. "We've been invaded and All Authors seem to have lost their powers. You're Opera, right? You know, you're just as I always pictured you -- half horse, half contralto. Wish we could finally have met in better circumstances."
"Likewise," she said. "I was actually just going to call in to find out what was what, but the lines were all busy, and then went dead, so I figured I'd better come. What are we going to do?"
"Get everyone out of the elevators and lock them down on the first floor," the Operator said grimly. "Try to limit the trouble if we can. Say, could you give me a lift?"
"Just hop on my back," Opera told him, nodding. "I'll have you over to Tube Number 1 in a Jiff."
"Great. Let me just pick up one of the Big Guns from the security cabinet. They don't do much more than ordinary guns, but they look impressive, and that might be a real asset right now..."
Soon the two were galloping down the hallways looking like they were hunting elephants, scattering Authors and Characters alike before them. At Tube 1 the Operator used his security key to recall the elevator from the second floor and lock it down. When the door opened there was no one in it but Bizarro Superman #1, a decided minor (one-episode) Author, looking very confused.
"Hey, do you really have superpowers?" asked the Operator, hopeful for a moment of enlisting him in their cause.
"Me do opposite of all Earthly things," mourned Bizarro. "Superman have powers, so me have none. Just discovered, trying to punch through elevator door." He extended his white, faceted hand, which proved to be leaking white, faceted drops of blood. It looked like powdered sugar...
"Swell," said the Operator. "Next stop, Opera!"
On they galloped, to Tube 2, which was already at the first floor, and empty. The Operator locked it down, and they galloped on to Tube 3.
It was guarded by a MIG, behind whom other MIGs were crowding in. "Shit," whispered the Operator, knowing the MIGs were obscenely good at killing. In a firefight, the Big Gun wouldn't help him... "Stop!" he hissed at Opera, and she skidded to a halt behind a large pillar, just as rapid gunfire stitched their outline along the wall behind where they would have been a moment later.
"Right," the Operator muttered. He jacked open a chamber of the Big Gun, in which the Tactical BE Missile lay, and flipped the switch arming it. "Target?" it queried in a tinny voice.
"Elevator Tube 3," the Operator Whisper. "And any gray-suited people in or near it!"
"Armed and ready."
The Operator pulled the trigger and shouted "Fall Flat, Opera!"
The missile exploded from the barrel, did several impossible zigzags, and blew up the Elevator Tube and all the Men in Gray near it.
"I thought you said that thing wasn't much better than an ordinary gun!" shouted Opera, half-deafened.
"It isn't!" the Operator called back. "As a gun! You only go with the accessories as a last resort -- they tend to be overpowered -- oh, shit..."
Opera twisted her head around and saw that the Operator was growing a pair of small but distinct breasts. So was she, only they were extra ones in her case...
"Radiation fallout," the Operator explained. "Damn, what a time to be without my powers! Oh well, the MIGs will be in even worse shape..."
Opera cautiously extended her neck out around the pillar, to see the vaporized Elevator shaft full of what looked like half-charred, flesh-colored airbags the size of rhinos... She shuddered. "Okay, now what?" she asked.
"There's one more tube up, across the Concourse in the Bar & Grill," he told her. "We'd never get to it in time, and there's probably no way to call over now, either. I'll have to risk another missile..."
Boom!
Everyone everywhere in the Concourse was soon aware of an odd, low-level meteorite streaking across the golden mists beneath the Upper Levels that passed for its "sky." In the Bar & Grill, where the Old Wizard had his hands full turning MIGs into colobus monkeys, they were aware of more -- a massive concussion that turned Elevator Tube 4 into a small but spectacular crater, and brought out half the firefighter imps on the Concourse...
Their work done, the O-team's next thought was escape from Hilbert's Hotel and the Men in Gray, before the latter could connect what had happened with them.
"Where to?" asked Opera.
"West, to the First Backstage," the Operator told her. "As an Author I wouldn't ordinarily be caught dead there -- you have to check your powers at the door -- but I don't have powers now, and neither would the MIGs. If they follow us there, they'll simply realize their true status as Characters and start chewing the fat with their fellow simpletons."
"Will that happen to me too?" asked Opera, worried.
The Operator smiled. "Don't worry, doll, you just stick with me and keep running. We'll be through there before you know it!"
Mon May 7 21:34:24 2001
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