by Martin Maenza
A dwarf with a brown mustache and beard, dressed in green, hopped up on a stool next to a large ray-gun-like device. “We ready to give this another try?” Gizmo asked.
A man in a purple and yellow costume stepped back. “Fire when ready, Gizzy!” Trident replied.
Gizmo nodded, adjusted his goggles, and looked across the room to where the weapon was pointed. “How about you, Fist?” he inquired.
Standing on a platform before a curved barrier of metal, a large gorilla waited impatiently. “Let’s just git this over with!” grumbled Power Fist.
“Right!” Gizmo powered up the device and said a little prayer, hoping they had finally adjusted the settings correctly to reverse the process that Gorilla Grodd had used to turn Power Fist into an ape last year. (*) “Here goes…”
[(*) Editor’s note: See Secret Society of Super-Villains: Gorilla Warfare, Book 2, Chapter 1: Infiltration.]
The machine let out a loud hum as it emitted a beam of energy.
Power Fist took the blast head-on, and it bathed him in a crimson glow. “Aaa-aaa-aah!” the ape-man screamed. The process seemed as painful as the original transformation. He gritted his teeth to endure it for as long as possible, knowing the momentary anguish would be worth the end result.
Trident stood by Gizmo, watching their colleague writhe in pain. “It ain’t working, Giz,” he said.
Dropping his head, Gizmo shook it in disappointment. “You’re right,” the dwarf admitted softly. “I just don’t get it.” He flipped the power switch to the off position, ending the beams that seemed to do so little.
Power Fist dropped to his knees, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath and let his heart stop pounding so fast. “Sweet Arbor Day,” he said softly, noticing his hands were still covered with fur. “Is this nightmare ever gonna end?” His heart sank as he began to consider the possibility that he might never look like a normal man again. Perhaps it was time for him to see Dr. Quinzel after all.
By the time Power Fist rose to his feet and joined the other two, Gizmo had already removed the back panel of the device and was poking around inside. “It was a good try,” the ape-man said, placing his hand gently on the dwarf’s shoulder. He tried his best not to let his own disappointment show.
“I can get this,” Gizmo said with his head buried in the machine. He felt Power Fist’s hand pat him gently. “I know I can get this. I have to!” The dwarf felt increasingly frustrated by this conundrum. The machinery, while devised by the brilliant super-gorilla Grodd, was complex but not beyond his expertise. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t reverse the transformation process. It was almost as if outside factors were involved.
“Gizmo, I know you’ve done your best,” Power Fist said. “Just don’t beat yourself up over it, ‘kay?”
The dwarf nodded but continued his work, unable to look at the disappointment in Power Fist’s eyes.
Understanding how his friend felt, Power Fist chose to leave the lab quickly. There was little more he could do for himself this day.
Star Sapphire was escorting Funky Flashman to his quarters when Power Fist bounded by. The pair moved close against the wall to give him a wide berth.
The man had mastered moving on all fours and passed by them in a hurry. “’Scuse me!” Power Fist said as he rushed on. Tears began to form in his big, dark eyes; he wanted to be alone.
“Was that grieving gorilla Grodd?” the con man asked as he stepped back into the hallway. “If so, he’s misplaced some of his muscular mass.”
“That’s not Grodd,” Star Sapphire corrected him. “That’s Power Fist. He was one of the recruits Grodd transformed into an ape and used recently to infiltrate Gorilla City. Grodd’s plan to overthrow that government was successful, but Fist decided to return with us instead of having a life in that simian city.”
“That Grodd,” Flashman exclaimed. “Always one for the grand plans!”
Star Sapphire nodded but kept her thoughts to herself. She wondered how things were going in Gorilla City and to what end the super-gorilla would use his fellow apes to his advantage. “Grodd certainly isn’t the type to be satisfied with ruling a single city,” she caught herself saying out loud.
“Who is, my dear?” Flashman said with a smile. “Who is?”
Star Sapphire didn’t like the inflection in the man’s voice. “What’s that supposed to mean, little man?” she snapped.
Flashman’s smile widened to hide any discomfort he might be feeling. “Why, nothing, Star. Nothing at all! Historically speaking, the participants in this particular group have often shown a penchant for personal prominence.”
Star Sapphire rolled her eyes as she and Funky Flashman walked down the hallway. This man’s arrogance and pompous attitude were enough to test even her patience. As they rounded the corner, they encountered two women conversing. The alien warrior hoped to unload the oaf on one of them. “Lydia, Dr. Quinzel, may I introduce you to Funky Flashman?”
The brown-haired man’s eyes widened as he took in the two beauties. “The pleasure is all mine, ladies,” he said, taking each of their hands in turn and kissing them.
Lydia Anastasios withdrew her hand and smiled politely at him before turning to Star Sapphire. “Are we still having lunch?” she asked.
“Definitely!” Star Sapphire replied, realizing she could use this as an opportunity to escape. “I just need to get our guest settled in first.”
Flashman, meanwhile, sidled up to the blonde woman. “A doctor, eh?” he asked. “Would that, perhaps, be in the practice of physical medicine?”
“No,” Harleen Quinzel replied flatly. “And if you will excuse us, Lydia needed to speak with me for a moment.” She took the dark-haired Greek woman’s hand, ushered her into her nearby office, and closed the door firmly.
“I am glad you could fit me in, Dr. Quinzel,” Lydia said. The Greek woman wore a long-sleeved beige blouse and a short brown suede skirt, which did little to cover up the numerous tattoos adorning her legs and plunging neckline.
“No problem,” the blonde psychiatrist replied as she sat in her chair. She motioned to the couch, offering Lydia a place to sit. “What can I help you with?”
Lydia took a seat. “Well,” she began, “it’s about Sam. I know he was a patient of yours and all before.”
Harleen Quinzel removed her wire-framed glasses and began to clean them with a handkerchief from the breast pocket of her navy blazer. “You know, kiddo,” she said, “I really can’t discuss what went on in sessions between Mirror Master and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality, you understand.”
“Oh, I do understand,” Lydia replied. “I certainly did not mean to ask you to break that professional confidence. It’s just that Sam seems a bit restless and irritable of late, as if he is having problems sleeping. I really do not know what I can do to help.”
“Hmm,” Dr. Quinzel said, contemplating for a moment.
“What do you think?” Lydia asked.
“Well, I can’t force him to talk to me about it,” the doctor explained. “He has to want to do so of his own free will. However, you might be able to encourage him, given the close relationship between you two.”
“I might be able to do that,” Lydia said. “Will that help?”
“If he comes to me to talk about it, I could prescribe some medication that will help him sleep better at night,” Harleen said. “But he has to take that first step if he wants the help.”
“I understand,” Lydia said, rising to her feet. “Thank you so much, Doctor.”
“You can call me Harleen if you’d like,” the blonde offered. “I’d like you to feel comfortable talking to me about whatever is bothering you.”
The dark-haired Greek woman nodded. “Thank you,” she said, “Harleen.” Lydia then dismissed herself from the office and set out to locate Star Sapphire.
Dr. Quinzel unlocked her desk and opened the top right drawer. She reached into a pile of folders and removed one labeled Mirror Master. Taking her pen, she scribbled some notes in shorthand onto one of the sheets inside. She then closed the folder, returned it to the drawer, and locked the desk again.
“Now,” she said to herself, “time to have a little talk with Copperhead.”