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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 121: Cooper 39
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Brown 325
The Army-Navy store held a wide variety of used military gear sold off by returning soldiers, sailors, and marines. Pacing back down the long narrow aisles with heavily laden tables covered in black boots, then roughly folded uniforms, then helmets, and round metal netted water canteens on the left, Cooper came to what he wanted on the opposite wall to the right where the uniforms were hung on fifty foot long metal rods. Here hung the duffel bags. He checked out several, and found one he liked, and took it back up. The man up front, with a prosthetic arm and a spindly mustache, sat behind the small glass counter just short of the door.
Behind him were a number of signs nailed to the wall.
“Due to the rising cost of ammunition, no warning shots will be given.”
“Go Navy-Beat Army!” which was a reference to the famed annual Army-Navy Football game.
“In God we trust; all others pay cash.”
With his good right hand, the clerk and possibly owner of the second-hand store took the duffel, gave it a quick shake, and handed it back to Brian.
“Three dollars. You see anything else you like?”
“I do,” Brian confessed. “I’d like to buy some camping gear, and some other items, but I just got a job, and I’m waiting for my paycheck.” He handed over the money and left the store. As the clerk had said, he would be back, unless some supervillain ‘versed’ him out before then. Having Tommy show up was more evidence in favor of this theory.
He went to Woolworth’s for socks, necessities, and a basic black set of wingtip shoes. Down the street, he walked in Hawthorne Men’s Clothiers, and headed for the discount rack. Finding a black coat and a pair of black pants that almost fit, he asked if they could be modified by a tailor. The owner was agreeable, and told him he could get it done right now for about three times the price, or wait until tomorrow afternoon. Regretting it, he decided to wait. His money belt was getting lighter. Measurements were quickly taken, written down on a scrap of paper, and pinned with a needle to the clothing.
Reminded by the passing by the spinning tie rack, he added two, one red, one blue, and a pair of white shirts as well. The sum for all of this from Woolworth’s and Hawthorne’s ran to seventeen dollars.
Curious about this world, he decided that the best solution was a history book, so he asked the owner of Hawthorne’s for directions to the public library. It was three blocks away, barely even a short hop for him, which reminded him that he needed to climb some of the mountains around here next weekend. Walking into the library, one of Andrew Carnegie’s donations, he made his way straight to some books on the history of the last century.
Much of the history was familiar, although there were surprising tidbits here and there. Captain Eagle had saved many of the passengers on the Hindenburg, and thus airships had continued in use for another ten years before airplanes phased them out. Teddy Roosevelt, generally thought not to have any superpowers, had physically pummeled the Blue Blade, an anarchist assassin, and both men were so badly wounded that both had been thought to die. Both had recovered with the Blade going for life in prison, and Roosevelt to the White House.
Atlantis with its mermen had, like Francisco Franco of Spain, stayed out of World War II, and had thus avoided the mass destruction of Germany with its hundreds of cathedrals destroyed. Attempts by both sides to inveigle Atlantis had failed, as its monarch explained, “Fascism, Communism, Democracy--we want or need none of these. I am the Monarch and Shield of my People. My House traces its ancestry back to the grandson of the fourth son of Noah who was blessed or cursed by the Water Crosser himself, ‘to need water as others need air’. Now leave us be, or I will wake the kaiju.”
Fascinated, he got up to look up ancient history, but the librarian got his attention with a wave of the hand, and a mouthed ‘five minutes’. He handed back the books, and left for the night with the doors clicking shut behind him.
Stepping out into the early evening, he decided this was a good time to patrol. A quick change around the corner of the library, and he was no longer Brian Barrelmaster, but Mister Justice with a duffel bag. As he walked out, he realized that his costume, with the black and green diamonds and black cloak, was well suited to night time operations. The only thing that really stood out was the gold ‘J’ over his eye. Deciding to get some exercise and do his patrol, he began a three mile loop of Downtown with some dips inward toward the center when he saw anything interesting.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
