THE EVERYTHING ENGINE

Part V: Gravity Well

the forty-eighth tale of agc

written by Mark Bousquet

2201 / March

NIFFLEHEIM

It was Thanos who noticed the oddity first.

From his perch high above the blood and ion stained cavern floor he had watched the billowing smoke that birthed in the campfires of the Olympian troops ascend to the ceiling, where it's wisps flattened and spread outwards in rippling waves. It was the fires below that held his attention; Thanos could easily discern that there was magic within them from the smoke alone, but still he looked at them from above to see what else he could learn. It was during this time that a roar of laughter went up from a small band of Olympians. Thanos, naturally curious despite himself, looked to see what humor could be found.

The Mad Titan felt a perverse thrill course through his veins as the winged steed Aragorn galloped from the smoke across the cavern floor.

Aragorn was the steed of Dani Moonstar, lead Valkyrie and lover of Captain America, the Cosmic Protector.

Aragorn was without his rider.

"Do you see?" Thanos asked Death, who stood beside him in silent vigil. "The Olympians know they will prevail, else not even they would mock the Cosmic Protector. Much blood will be lost before the next break in battle. The end to their days has become inevitable, milady Death, trapped in a black hole from which there is no escape save your cold embrace."

And as Aragorn bounded towards King Balder, Death said nothing, but did allow Thanos a nod of agreement. As her gaze locked onto the Asgardian King she knew there would indeed be many lives lost this day.

Many important lives, at that.

SPACE

Adam Warlock let the Soul Gem guide him onward, relegating his status to little more than a passenger.

During his time in the cocoon on Ganymede, Warlock had sent his mind on a journey into the Soul Gem, and he began to glimpse at the hint of a shadow of true understanding. Or perhaps his mind, tired and desperate, had simply created fantasies for him to torture himself over. In either case, his destination was clear: the Center of Everything.

He would either prove it simply a myth, or he would find the answers he sought.

"Your journey ends here."

The clear booming voice brought Adam to a halt, and he shook his mind clear to see the Living Tribunal towering over him. "I cannot allow you to continue, Adam Warlock."

Adam floated straight up to the Tribunal's eye level, and found himself faced with the Tribunal's face of equity. "I seek no quarrel with you, Tribunal. In truth, I have nothing but the highest respect for your position, but I will not be deterred. I must have the answers I seek."

"What makes your quest for knowledge any less dangerous than the quest for power or riches? Need I remind you of your future self, the Magus?"

"The quest for power and gold effects all, but the quest for knowledge is a solitary journey," Adam answered evenly, having long ago come to terms with the Magus. "Knowledge itself can bring harm to others, but not the quest for knowledge."

"Are you certain of that?"

"I am certain only of my own heart, Tribunal," Adam answered, "and the wishes of the Soul Gem. I know the power you have at your disposal could end my quest here, but I beseech you to let me continue on my way. There is nothing in the Everything, not even knowledge, that cannot be turned into a weapon in the wrong hands, but that does not mean that all who seek it are evil men."

The Living Tribunal said nothing, so Adam continued to argue his case. "You are the ultimate judge of the Everything. Read my heart and-"

"I know you are honorable, Warlock," the Tribunal's voice boomed in the emptiness of space. "But you have not given thought to the changes in your soul if you should succeed. Knowledge, even ultimate knowledge, if such a thing exists, is not an ending point, but a beginning. You desire to soothe the raging storm inside you? I will give you that peace, for that is peace that can only be found in death, though in these dark times, I do not know if even death will bring a reprise."

"It is answers I seek," Adam answered slowly. "They will bring me calm."

"You will exchange your current psychical tortures for different torments. You will not find peace, only a different storm that you must learn how to survive."

Adam closed his eyes, thinking on the Tribunal's words. They hung in silence for several hours, the Living Tribunal with nothing to draw his attention and Adam with nothing that could draw his attention. Adam let his mind soar across his mindscape, asking questions that had no easy answers, investigating his desires, his fears, his motives, his expectations, his past, his future. All his mind opened to him, and hours turned to days as he explored every possibility.

At long last, he was ready to answer. He opened his eyes to find the Living Tribunal as he left him. "I will not ever be fully satisfied that I make the right decision," he said openly, "but if the completion of my quest brings only a new pathos, than that is victory. I am too wise to ever expect total serenity, and too old to ever accept total chaos. You may think me an egotist, Tribunal, but I have come to believe I was meant to discover answers to questions that have plagued all 'intelligent' species for centuries. I believe there are answers not meant for mortal beings, and that it is my duty, and my destiny, to find those answers." He let his words sink in, then continued, "The Center of Everything has answers. On that I am betting my entire existence."

The Tribunal's face of equity rotated and Adam found himself looking at a blue hood pulled low over the large yellow face - the face of necessity. "Very well, Adam," the Tribunal spoke slowly. "You may continue on. What right have I, who have failed in my duties to defend the balance of the Everything, to deter you in your quest? What right have I to stop the turning of the Great Gears?"

Adam nodded his appreciation and floated away, once again pulled onward by the Soul Gem.

HALA / KE-RETRIBUTION

Ben-Vell Parker was a fraud. He had felt that way over the course of his years, but he had always been told that all children, especially those whose parents were heroes or soldiers, felt that way at some point.

They had lied to him. He really was a fraud. Cloned from the genetic material of the authentic "Chosen One." The Everything had decided to take that "Chosen One" out and Odin had chosen to create Ben, instead. To what? Fool the Everything? Fool all of those who believed Ben was the "Chosen One," the future savior of all that was good and right and just?

What, he wondered, storming into his quarters, was good and right and just about being lied to your whole life by those who claimed to be your guardians?

Did Captain America know? Beta Ray Bill? Dani?

It didn't matter, Ben knew. It just didn't matter. Balder knew, and said nothing. Surely, the rest must know. They must have figured it out at some point, and yet no one said anything. And even if they didn't, Ben fumed, they should have known.

He thought then, of Angelica, and the secret of her lineage. The Council had kept that from them, as well. Ben looked down at his uniform and felt dirty, as if clothes that he had been given on Asgard carried within their fibers all the sin that the Asgardians had foisted onto him over these past two decades. Tearing his shirt off and tossing it to the ground, Ben swore as the bell to his quarters beeped to life, letting him know someone was at the door.

Surely it was his fellow Orphans.

Ben decided not to answer. Screw them, he thought, then checked his anger. No, he wouldn't take it out on them, they were guilted by Balder as much as he was. But he just didn't want to deal with them at this-

BEEP-BEEP.

"Shrabnit!" Ben yelled. Fine, they were so insistent, Ben would let them in. Let them hear the truth and see the evidence that resided on the disc the Supreme Intelligence had given him. "Enter!" he yelled, then watched as the door slid open to reveal-

"Thalia," Ben said, surprised. "What do you want?"

Thalia quickly stepped inside, then let the door slide shut behind her. "Are you in need of anything, Ben-Vell Parker? My duties are to assist you in any way that you require."

Ben threw up his hands, "For the love of heaven, Thalia, I am not your blasted Chosen One! I'm a fraud. The Supreme Intelligence-"

"Yes," she nodded, looking to the disc in Ben's hand, "I am aware of your status as a … genetic duplicate. I was allowed to watch what happened between you and the Supremor, to best judge what it is that you would require of me."

Ben was dumb-founded, "What? The Intelligence isn't going to continue with this ruse, is he? I'm supposed to keep playing at being the 'Chosen One' even though he knows, and I know, and Balder knows and hell, I'm sure Thanos knows, that I'm a fraud? No way. Forget it!"

Thalia's voice stayed at the same level, neither rising in anger nor reduced to pleading. "I do not know what plans the Supremor has for you and your secret," she said honestly, "but I do know that my fellow Kree people look at you with a hope in their eyes that they had been conditioned over the centuries to be ashamed about." Ben turned his back to her, but Thalia pressed forward. "Hope is eternal, Ben-Vell, and you represent that hope. You may be a clone, but none but a few know of it. Would it be so bad to continue to act the role Odin had you created for? It is not as if you are ever in any real danger of becoming the Cosmic Protector, are you? So why not continue to play the role? The Supremor will reveal this information after the Eternal War is over, when people are no longer in need of a hero to save them. You will be exonerated, shown to have been duped, and the Kree will love you for it. You can still be a legend, Ben-Vell, and isn't that," she now dropped her voice, as her blue hand reached out to touch his blue skin, "all you've ever really wanted?"

"I … no, no, I never wanted to be a hero, I just, I just wanted to not let people down. To save lives, to-"

Thalia put a second hand on his back, then ran them up to his shoulders. Ben became suddenly aware of how cool her fingers felt, and how heavy his burden now seemed. "What you want," Thalia whispered, "is to be loved."

Ben choked, "Yes. I don't want anyone to look at me and see the fraud we know I am. I had a friend once. Jonas. Jonas Barton. He was older than the rest of us Orphans by a few years…" Ben let his voice trail off as the memory came back to him.

"What happened?" Thalia asked, her body gently pressing into Ben's back.

"He died," Ben said flatly. "Because of me. Because of a stupid prank I pulled. I see his face in my dreams to this day, Thalia. And the look in his eyes," he said as his body shivered at the thought, "is disappointment. I let him down by being childish and foolish and so I became… I kept being childish and foolish. I didn't study, I didn't take Bill's lessons all that seriously. I tried to learn as little history as I could. I-"

"Don't you think," Thalia asked, planting a kiss in the middle of his back that caused another, simple shudder to warm its way through Ben's body, "that's it time, then, to stop acting like a child?"

Ben turned around to face her, and felt himself falling into the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, "I don't know how."

Thalia closed her eyes, "I should hate you for being a fraud, but I…" She leaned up to kiss Ben gently on the mouth, then quickly pulled away from him, a look of shock on her face. "I … I'm sorry, I -"

Ben watched helplessly as Thalia backed away, "Please don't go."

Thalia stopped in her tracks, her eyes shutting tight, "Is that an order?"

"What? No. No. Why would I- oh," Ben shook his head, reminding himself she was assigned to meet his needs. "That whole assistance thing doesn't mean you have to do things like, uh, that … um, you know, does it?"

Thalia opened her eyes, pain evident on her face, "It does."

"What? Thalia, listen, I - I won't order you to stay, I won't, I can't."

"I can have one of the Nebulae sent in. They are more practiced in these pursuits. I am afraid I-" she turned her head away, "have none."

"No experience with- oh." Ben said. "That's … that's not important, I … why is everything in my life so difficult? Do you have any idea how much Toomi will hate me when- oh, hell. Toomi," Ben said, the word sounding foreign to him. "I have a girlfriend." He looked at Thalia's pained expression, his emotions boiling in different directions throughout his body, "You should … you should go."

Thalia nodded, "I am sorry to be a disappointment to you, Chosen-"

"No," Ben said, taking several steps to grab her gently by the arm. As she looked up into his eyes again, Ben felt his entire world crumble away into the void.

HALA / KE-RETRIBUTION

THE SEAT OF THE EMPIRE

The Supreme Intelligence floated in silence, joined by General Van'Rogg and the senior member of the Nebulae staff, watching the video feed from Ben-Vell's quarters.

Van'Rogg turned his head away.

"I wonder," the Nebulae said, smiling, "if the General turns away because he is ashamed at your plan, Supremor, or because Thalia is his daughter?"

Van'Rogg shot a harsh gaze Nebulae's way, "Silence, witch. My daughter serves the orders of the Empire, as do we all. I would have it no other way."

Nebulae's eyes sparkled, but said no more to Van'Rogg on the subject. Instead, she turned her gaze to the Supreme Intelligence. "It is a brilliant plan, Supremor. But tell me, how will you make certain Ben-Vell does not check the authenticity of those data-vids you gave him, showing him that he is a clone? At some point he will surely have doubt creep into his mind and attempt to break-"

The Supreme Intelligence turned to Nebulae and Van'Rogg as the video feed of a Ben and Thalia's embrace clicked off. "Do not presume to judge my actions, Nebulae. A clone should be uniquely aware of how easily they can be replaced, should they not?"

"Of course, Supremor," Nebulae apologized.

"The truth," the Supremor admitted, a small smile playing across his bulbous head, "is that the images Ben-Vell received are all authentic."

"What?"

"There is nothing he was told or shown that was not true," the Supremor announced. "I am always surprised when a weapon is dropped into our lap, Nebulae, but that does not keep me from using it. I do not invent truth," the Supreme Intelligence rumbled. "I merely decide how best to use it to the advantage of the Kree." He looked to Van'Rogg, "General?"

Van'Rogg nodded, removed his blaster, and ended the Nebulae's life.

The Supreme Intelligence turned its back to his highest-ranking officer. "The secrets of the Kree Empire must be kept at all costs. If your daughter tells anyone of this…"

Van'Rogg holstered his blaster, "There is but one end for traitors, Supremor. If my daughter fails the Empire, her life holds no value."

"And the other Orphans?"

"Occupied. They will be kept too busy to interfere with your plans."

NIFFLEHEIM

Asgardians parted for the riderless steed, Aragorn, to pass quickly through their ranks to come to a halt in front of the King of Asgard.

"What is this?" Balder asked, his clothes streaked with dirt and blood, dropping the meat chewed on to his plate as Aragorn scraped his heels into the cavern floor.

"It is Aragon, Dani's horse," Captain America said quickly, approaching Balder from the side.

"But where-?" The voice belonged to Kovar the Accuser, and he ceased his words before the thought could be fully versed.

A note had been found in Aragorn's saddle, which Balder read aloud:

"If you will still your voices and look towards the wall of smoke, you will see why this horse has no rider." Balder turned to order his troops to silence when he discovered that they had already complied. Many, in fact, were already looking to the wall of smoke, searching for the sign the note promised. The eyes of the King turned slowly, scanning the massive surface, but seeing nothing. "I do not-" he started, when a voice he should not have heard cut him off.

"Upper left - fifty meters on a forty-five degree diagonal slant downwards from the position of Thanos and Death."

While all Asgardians looked to find this spot, Balder turned to see the source of the voice - Brono. His son, the future King of Asgard. The King did not know what to say as his son's eyes met his, as anger and sorrow filled his aging heart. Brono held his father's eyes for several seconds, then shrugged, and turned his attention back to the wall of smoke.

Balder's head, heavy with the weight of seemingly the entire Everything, turned around to see the carnage.

Her body in a crucifix-position, Dani Moonstar appeared strapped to the billowing surface of the smoke. Her eyes were wide open, looking at something on the other side of the large cavern, and her screamed in silent pantomime, frozen with fear.

"No!" The sound of Kovar's yell snapped Balder back to the floor where he saw the Kree Accuser and a small group of Asgardians fighting to hold Captain America in place. "Wait!" Kovar yelled in Cap's ear. "Do not be foolish! You know this is a trap," Kovar seethed. "You know it!"

Cap forcefully shrugged the Asgardians and Kovar off of him, but stayed rooted to the ground.

"It appears," Brono said as he rubbed his eyes from the excess strain, "that there's some image in the surface of the smoke, but I cannot make out what it is."

"I see it, too," Amora the Enchantress nodded, moving to stand near the future King - a move that caused the current King to wince in response. Amora continued, "Although I can not discern it's true appearance."

Balder could feel the battle slipping away at that moment and a voice, the voice that lies within us all, told him simply that they would lose this battle and it would be his fault. No, he tried to shake off the feeling. No. They would not fall, not today, not ever to Thanos and the Olympians. His eyes turned to see his opposite King, Thanos, looking down at Moonstar with a questioning look, as well.

"Look to Thanos," Balder's calm, confident voice cut through the Asgaridan murmuring. "He is confused, as well, as to what is happening to Moonstar. Captain," Balder said quickly, an idea coming to mind, "can you use your cosmic awareness to discover the magic within that fire?"

Steve Rogers looked at the smoke, a small frown appearing on his face, "I do not know. I have never been all that proficient with the cosmic awareness, especially as it relates to magic."

Balder nodded, "Try anyway."

Cap nodded, turning to the wall, to the image that Brono and Amora said they could see on the surface, an image Steve was almost certain was just a trick of the billowing smoke, the light from the fires below, and their collective imaginations. Still, he had been given an order by his commanding officer and he would obey it.

As Cap closed his eyes to concentrate, Balder turned his attention elsewhere, "Amora, have you tried and failed in that quest already?"

"I have," the Enchantress answered. "Whatever magic is at play in that wall of smoke is neither Asgardian or Olympian."

"Are you certain of that?" Kovar asked. "Olympian magic-"

"What, pray tell, dost thou think I hath been doing these past years since Ragnarok, Accuser?" Amora asked icily, her sparkling eyes seeming to slice the air itself between her and Kovar. "I hath spent much time studying the magic of Olympus so we would be ready if they ever didst return. I am confident that the nature of the magic contained within that wall is not Olympian in nature."

"Fair enough," Kovar nodded his apology.

"Even more," Amora said, her eyes finding her King, "the magic that courses through their veins is not Olympian, either."

"What is it, then?" Balder asked.

"It is not magic at all," she replied, reaching into her cloak to remove a small vial of the ionic fluid that the Olympians spilled instead of blood.

Balder didn't ask his question again, and Amora didn't answer until she had everyone's attention.

"In the past I hath studied the energies of Midgard in order to… enhance the limited abilities of certain Earth men. One mortal that I was involved with was to become a partner of the good Captain, here." She nodded to Captain America, who was still concentrating on his cosmic awareness. "His name was Simon Williams, and over the course of the years he didst die."

Balder felt a chill run through his body, "But he returned to the land of the living, for his body had been transformed with ionic energy."

"Ionic reanimation only works on the living," Kovar interjected, "and it is highly unstable. There is no guarantee that death by ionic breakdown will ever lead to the return of a whole body and mind, and a subject must be infused with ionic energy long before they perish in order to give the body time to ingest the ionic energy into their system."

"I have wondered this, as well," Brono added, stepping forward. "Clearly these Olympians we fight are infused with ionic energy as their internal fuel, yet the records I hath read of Ragnarok gave no indication that the Olympians had been exposed to these treatments."

"They hadn't," Balder shook his head. "We didst perform autopsies on several of the bodies before committing them to the Great Pyre. There was no indication that they were anything but normal Olympians."

"And yet," Brono spoke the words they were all feeling, "there they wait to kill us."

A hush settled over the Asgardians as each pondered the words spoken, the image of Dani, still crucified nearly seventy-five feet in the air, and the presence of the Olympians.

"Do you know," Amora asked, her voice grave, "what the difference is between eternal life and the living dead?"

"Is there a difference?" Brono answered with a question of his own.

Amora turned to the young King of Nornheim and smiled, then turned to Balder, raising her voice, "There is no difference … save who thou fight for."

The assembled Asgardians began to shift in their stances, displeased with Amora's words, so she continued. "We make the distinction between life and death. Much of our belief systems are tied to this concept that what we do in life propels our eternal soul. When one dies, we mourn. When a baby is birthed, we celebrate. We favor life over death and Thanos," she looked to the perch where he stood with Death, "favors death over life. This hath become the driving wedge in the Eternal War, as Thanos seeks the destruction of all, and we seek to let life thrive forward along its own path.

"I am, however," she continued slowly, "beginning to wonder if the Everything sees any distinction at all in life or death, for when a caterpillar becomes a butterfly, is the caterpillar not dead? Has it not given itself up to become the butterfly? What, I ask, is the difference between the caterpillar becoming a butterfly and a person giving up its body so that the soul may live on?"

Amora took the vial of the Olympian's ionic blood and held it high, "Is this magic in this vial? Is it magic that hath brought the Olympians back? Let me ask you, King Balder, when legends are found in the world of man, is that magic?

"Because what is in this vial is Kirbyonic energy, the blood of the Everything.

"What is life? What is death?

"I do not think it will be long fore that question hath no meaning, at all."

It was then that Captain America's body, lost in a trance, floated off the cavern floor, to hover in mid-air. A deep struggle was being waged inside his body, evidenced by the sweat and strain that covered his skin.

As the eyes of the Asgardians moved upwards to watch the human they had all come to know and respect as much as any son or daughter of Asgard, Amora pulled King Balder aside. "What do you think, Balder, will happen to the morale of our troops when the Olympians they killed in epic yesterday come bursting through that magical wall of smoke?"

"Are you certain this will happen?" Balder asked.

Amora shook her head, "I am certain of nothing when it comes to either the Olympians or Kirbyonic energy. There are too many variables, but Pluto is a god of the dead, Balder. It is within his power to have influence over those we killed on this field of battle the day previous. I hath a troubled feeling inside me that-"

"Look!"

Balder and Amora turned, expecting to see the rebirthed Olympians pouring through the smoke to resume their battle. Instead, they saw Captain America's floating body raise an arm and point it at Moonstar's pained, imprisoned form.

The Cosmic Protector's voice echoed in the cavern, full of power and anguish, "Thanos! Your days of deception are at an end! I see the power held within this smoke for what it truly is!"

Hands went quickly to ears as the silent screams of Moonstar burst forth, shattering the silence of the cavern. Asgardians and Olympians both dropped to their knees, as their eyes were locked on Moonstar's form.

"How can she scream like this?" Brono asked his father, who could not hear his son although they were but three feet away from each other.

"It is not Moonstar's voice that you hear!" Captain America boomed, his voice echoing in the ears of the Asgardians. "Keep your eyes locked on the smoke and you shall see that another ally of Thanos now stands revealed!"

The billowing smoke began to coalesce in smaller areas and slowly, but determinedly, the Cosmic Protector tore the soul of the magic from the smoke, and revealed the magician held within the shadowy curtain in a hundred-foot high image.

Asgardians, proving the legends told about them to be true, looked upon this horrific image, and instead of concern growing with them, saw a steely resolve well up to support the rise to their feet.

Another devil now lay revealed.

Mephisto had joined the cause against them.

Pieces began to fall into place, as somewhere the turning of the Great Gears quickened their pace. The end of Everything began to pull them forward in time, an unshakable gravity well that would never allow for escape.

The Everything Engine to be continued…

What right have I to stop the turning of the Great Gears?

YGGDRASIL

Comments c/o bousquet22@earthlink.net

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Two more issues to go until the landmark AGC 50. One letter this issue, from MV1 veteran Steve Crosby.

Damn, how the hell can you write perfect stories issue after issue? And somehow, they just get better. The Everything Engine is clearly the best storyarc thus far. You have Adam Warlock journeying to find the Center of the Universe and the Everything Engine itself, where you hint that the Infinity Gems once resided. The Prophesies of Grey, which I won't insult you by assuming to be based on the Destiny Diaries, the mad ramblings of Jean Grey that drive others mad, is a nice, minor way to bring a little more X into a war that encompasses all that is Marvel.

But of AGC 47, you kept things simple by focusing on two plots, the Olympian/Asgardian War and the truth of Ben-Vell. You know your mythology, as the backstory of the gods is full of so much adultery and betrayal that I'd believe if I read it in an old Greek or Norse manuscript. And you even paid homage to the man that made the gods cool in Marvel, Jack Kirby, by bringing back all the Olympian gods with Kirbyon! I can't wait for next issue, and the looks on the Asgardians' faces when all the opponents they killed come roaring out of the fog.

Wow, Ben-Vell is the clone of a clone's son. You do another good job of showing off the Supreme One's ingenuity and manipulative skills. For all the talk of humility the Asgardians have thrown at Ben-Vell, he still considered himself somebody special. Now that's shot to hell, and he's pissed off. It was a wild curve-ball I never saw coming, and I congratulate you on the execution of it.

With all the plots you handle in this series, it's impossible to mention them all. You handle all these characters masterfully, and continue to surprise your readers over the course of almost 50 issues. Thank you for sharing these amazing stories.

steve

And thank you for such insightful thoughts, Steve, and your continued support of these efforts.

-- Mark Bousquet …

Northern Bear Productions

1 July 2002