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Jinn and Tonic


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GM

 

Just past midnight...

 

...September the 5th...

 

...Outside MAX MEDICINES!...

 

The Van had caught Geckoman's eye. Was it too clean? Was it parked illegally? Was the engine running for too long, with no movement?

 

Was it the five men that got out, and took a crowbar to the back door of MAX MEDICINES?

 

It was cool night, but clear. The stars and moon lit up Freedom City, and in the North End, the soft amber roses of street lights always kept it bathed in a warm light. 

 

This almost looked to obvious. It was not quite the clumsy break and entry of street kids, grabbing a TV for their next fix of whatever drug had hit the streets this month. It was hardly a professional job either. It hovered in between. It was odd, however that no alarm went off...

 

Geckoman could smell something on the crooks. Some kind of sickly sweet pheremone or scent. Not falling into unpleasant or pleasant either, just something that was distinctive. 

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Geckoman softly prowled down the street after the five men. As he went, he pressed a small button on his belt, and shimmered away gently until he couldn't be seen but for a slight distortion, easily mistaken for a heat haze.

 

What are these guys up to? he pondered. And what is that smell? He ducked down, despite his cloaked form, not willing to jump in and confront the men until he knew what was going on. And how armed they were, hopefully. Just because he could easily heal wounds doesn't mean he ever really enjoyed getting them, after all.

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GM

 

The men crept into MAX MEDICINES, looking like a bunch of crooks. Which, to be fair, was what they were. They wore balaclavas, gloves, and long black macs, and muttered to themselves as they started prowling the small medical research lab. Every now and again, they would pick up a medicine bottle and read out the names, in comedic fashion. Unintentional comedic fashion, that is. Whatever they were, it was pretty easy to say they had no medical training or pharmacological skill. In fact, your average guy off the street could probably do a better job. 

 

"Inn Sue Lin?"

 

"Prop-a-nol?"

 

"Die---Zed Pam?"

 

"Forget the Die Z Pam, man! Lets go find some highs whilst we are here! May as well help ourselves. We only got hired to break in!"

 

There were a few smiles, a few laughs. And no sound of any alarm. 

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Geckoman did not like what was going on here. Why wasn't the alarm going off here? And who hires idiots like this to rob a cancer research institute? Sure, he'd heard MAX Medicines did a load of experimental drugs, but surely if you couldn't read the word insulin, you'd be unable to figure out what to steal?

 

His vague rippling outline moved through the air after the thieves, unwilling to tip his hand yet. They seemed quite chatty for trying to break into somewhere. Then again, the alarm wasn't going off. Geckoman slowly slid up the wall and onto the ceiling, clinging close under his thin field of camoflague, infrared vision tracking the robbers through the gloom. C'mon, guys, loosen up. Who are you working for? I don't wanna go Jack Bauer here. Just tell me, or something.

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GM

 

Time passed...

 

The men had tried a few of the drugs. And were a little zone out, sleepy. 

 

"Hey, its Spectox V! Just like what that guy what told us!" had yelled one man, shaking a bottle of pills.

 

"Cool man! Lets get high!"

 

"Just one or, maybe three" smiled another. 

 

"Careful, dude, that stuff is serious!" said the last, pulling out a gun from his Mac. The Gun seemed to be higher tech than your regular Pistol. More like a dart gun, the kind you use to knock out Elephants. 

 

"He loaded us with these! Heavy duty, he said!"

 

"Yeah Man, awesome! Real chill pills!" said the man who first found the bottle, popping one. 

 

And the others were not far behind, sleepy, relaxed, a little disinhibited. 

 

"Who was that guy, anwherehow? He was a few nuts short of a cake" slurred the first guy, who had taken two. 

 

"Like, no name, no face, and no name!" he said freaking out for a second, before the drugs surpressed any anxiety he had about the unsatisfactory nature of affairs. 

 

"He looked seriously like he was a few bolts short of a cake!" he continued "Had those crazy eyes, you know? Like he was a few bolts short of a cake!"

 

"And he had no face and no name!" he finished, in a moment of drug induced clarity and zen. 

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Geckoman sighed internally. He doubted he'd get any real appreciable information from a bunch of stoned junkies, especially when the were sampling their wares and oh dear lord, was that a tranquiliser gun? He was pretty sure all of this was a terrible idea, and so he pushed off the ceiling, accelerating rapidly towards the floor to land on it hands first, legs in the air. He dropped his chameleon field as he went.

 

Effortlessly, he segued to a rapid spinning motion, legs scything at the junkie's gun. It spun from his hand even as Geckoman let his spinning motion overbalance him, legs falling as his arms rose to grab at the weapon. "Hiya, fellas. Lovely evening? Good drugs?" He hefted the dart gun. "Cool shooter?"

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GM

 

"Hey man, that's mine!" yelped the thug as Geckoman relieved him of his weapon. Then his eyes widened, his throat dried, and his skin dampened with sweat. 

 

"Holy hells! its the Geck----"

 

"Eat lead fool!" shouted one of the other thugs, brandishing his gun. 

 

"I don't think these are lead, dude..." whispered one of the other thugs. And then a volley of darts flew through the air. They were silent, a hissing of gas and pfffft pfft pffft with every dart. Silent, but not deadly. 

 

As Geckoman found out. He was fast, they were bad shots, but every once in a blue moon, a missaimed shot would end up precisely where his superhuman reflexes took him. 

 

A dart had ended up in his big toe. A little bit of ouch, like a doctor, but his toe was not blown off or dissolving in acid. It looked a bit silly, for sure. And then, a feeling of numbness in the toe...

 

"See man, that dude told us he would be here!"

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Geckoman glanced down at his toe. Then up at the four thugs. Then back down at his toe. "OK. Who shot me. Actually... screw it, I don't even care. Don't do drugs, kids." In one fluid, practiced motion he whipped his staff from his belt, extending it to its full length as he moved forward, squeezing a pressure panel on the hilt to activate the tazer built into the tip. 

 

He drove forward, knocking one of the thieves hard in the chest, ramming through with his body to throw the man into a wall. He pivoted on one foot and reversed the motion into a horizontal sweep, laying another to the floor even as he lifted his body into the air in a casual leap. One foot lashed out in a roundhouse kick, hitting a third man in the face to spin him to the floor. Finally, he lifted his staff high and rode the momentum downwards into the fourth and final remaining thug.

 

"Man. I was kinda hoping for a little resistance, guys. C'mon. Bring your A-game." He yanked the dart from his toe and held it up in front of him, head tilted to one side. "Bring stronger sedatives too."

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GM

 

After the spinning blur of violence, only the first thug, whom Geckoman had expertly disarmed, was left standing. Although that was an unfair description. He was slumped against the wall, holding his hands up to ward the primeval horror of the Superhero. 

 

"Wait! Wait! Don't hurt me! We were just hired to draw you out!" he jabbered. 

 

"We got these guns and we got sprayed with some chemical. Feromoan, I think it was, or something. Said it would bring Geckoman to us!"

 

"No way, we said! We don't want smart ass cape bustin' our ass! But this guy, he told us the Feromoan would knock you out or something..." he explained.

 

"Damn it, we got played!" he scrabbled on the floor. "I'm gonna kick that guys ass!"

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"Oh, please," drawled Geckoman, rounding on the last man standing. He cracked his knuckles and took a step forwards. "So, tell me, who was trying to draw little old me out? And, frankly, if you'll take career advice, why take a job that likely involves a superhero throwing you across the room?" He went to shrug his shoulders, but found his arms felt rather heavy.

 

Immediately, the green acrobat looked at his foot. "Oh, you clever girls..." he mumbled to himself. He forced his head, now lolling a bit, back up to look at the thug. "OK, this isn't going to..." He fell forward and landed flat on his face, unable to keep his eyes open...

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GM
 
Some time later...
 
But how much time? How long? HOW LONG?
 
Geckoman still had his costume and mask on. His Identity was a least safe. 
 
Being strapped to a medical bed in thick reinforced plastic bands didn't feel that safe though. He could not move his arms or legs. And his utility belt was absent from his waist. 
 
His blurred vision started to clear, and his ears started to work. His nose also, a variety of chemical smells hitting that superior organ - disinfectants, antibiotics, drugs of every type and flavour. Other smells too, like burning incense. 
 
Leaning over him was a broad faced man with bright eyes. He had a short beard and messy hair. To guess at his ethnicity would be tough, maybe southern European or Middle Eastern. 
 
"Ah! The Gecko awakes! Excellent! Excellent! I had to use an especially powerful tranquiliser for you, I feared for a moment that you would suffer respiratory depression. But it seems you have a liver proportional to the size of a Gecko, too? Haha! Is that what they say, yes?" he said, with the faintest of an eccent. 
 
He was dressed in a slightly dirty lab coat, and had a loose tie around him. He was big, too. At least six foot, and broad shoulders, his lab coat hiding arms that were as thick as tree trunks. It was a little hard to tell if the man was fat, strong, or both. 
 
The surroundings looked like a living room packed with medical equipment, journals, books, all verging on the disorganised. Geckoman, if craning his neck, could spy other things too, pictures and books on medieval alchemy and mysticism, much of it with an Arabic flavour.

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Geckoman muzzily blinked his eyes and looked around. Dammit, a wackadoodle. A dirty one. In a big lab... were they mystic books? OK, this was worse than your bog-standard mad scientist. They didn't tend to do magic. "Oi vey. Y'know, beardy, you didn't have to go to such lengths to get me here. Ask me out, I dunno, I like Italian food. I'm on Tinder, we could swipe and see if we both swipe right? Cos, seriously, weird-ass scientist with a vendetta trying to science me isn't really a viable go-to move." He stopped and his eyes snapped open wide. "Wait. That totally does work on me. I need help."

 

He tilted his head forward a bit. "So, big guy, what's the dealio? Whatcha working on here? And do you plan to follow NJ employment law, I think at some point you need to let me out for a smoke and cup of coffee?"

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GM

 

"Haha! You are funny, Mr. Gecko! Yes, you have the big mouth of a Gecko as well! Do you expect me to talk? Do you expect me to go on and on about my plans? To describe in detail how I wish to extract your regenerative powers? How I wish to save myself and my daughter fro]m our most unfortunate genetic disease? Perhaps you wish to know how I have studied both Arabian mysticism and Western Medicine, and have reached an enlightenment?" he laughed, hysterically. 

 

"Perhaps you would hear me talk about how they called me mad! How they laughed at me! How they said I was insane, tried to drug me with antipsychotics? Would you try to get that out of me too? Hahaha!"

 

"No, you won't fool me, Mr. Gecko. I wont talk about how I summoned a Jinn when in a mystic trance. How this vision told me the path to save my daughter and I. You won't get any such prized information from me, because I am smarter than you...." he said, pushing his leering face right up to Geckomans. 

 

"Do you expect me to talk? No! I expect you to die, Mr. Geckoman!"

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Geckoman leaned his head back hoping to avoid some of the madman's phlegm. So. This guy wanted to take his powers, give them to him and his daughter to get around some genetic disease, and because he was doing it because he'd summoned something, no doubt this would be the painful way of doing this. 

 

His mind raced over the facts and possibilities rapidly. What to do, what to say to escape this trap. One thing stuck out. One glaring inconsistency. One little snag in the facts, the thread that would unravel all the 'logic' of the plan. Just one thing.

 

"You managed to reproduce!?

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GM

 

"Haha! Yes, Mr. Gecko! Your petty taunts will not save you now, though! I am in tune with the hidden forces of the universe. My eyes are open! Open!" he cackled. 

 

"I would not be cruel to you. No, but I must save my daughter. You are in no position to jest, green one. Do you have children? Do you have love? Or are you but a child yourself? Yes...I see that you are. Young, unwise, inexperienced. Aflush with the mad fires of youth! Yet to learn that the mad fires are neither brighter, nor hotter!"

 

"And now! Let the extraction process begin!" he said, finally interrupting his chaotic rambling speech. And it was chaotic, and it was rambling. 

 

To needles appeared on the bed, and inserted themselves into Geckoman's veins. 

 

"Excellent, excellent!" laughed the man. 

 

"And, pardon my rudeness. You are called Mr. Geckoman. I am called Dr Tonic!" he said, bowing deeply. 

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"Woahoahoah, hold your goddamn horses here," snarled Geckoman, struggling in vain against the harness. "Don't stick those things in there! Ugh! Have you not considered alternatives. Here's one off the top of my head, could've asked for my help!

 

He made a 'duh' face at Dr Tonic. "Other alternatives. I like the one that's 'seriously so sticking needles in me you loonie'." Geckoman reclined his head slightly. What to do, what to do. He wasn't escaping his bonds right now, and one way or another, the needles were going to extract stuff. What they wanted to extract specifically, he wasn't sure, but extracting would occur. And this guy was beyond reason. Even if he wasn't cuckoo banana pants, his daughter was in danger. That could make a sane man dangerous beyond reason.

 

"Eh, screw it, you're not going to listen to reason. Hit me, big guy. Give me your worst, because here's the fun thing. I'll get up from it. Bring it."

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GM

 

"mmm...yes I could have asked. But then, you would have said no, as I intend to drain you for every last drop of Geckojuice. Mere science is limited! It is to mysticism we must turn! The powers of the invisible, like the Jinn and the Angel. To extract your ichor in its full potency, is to kill you. Why would you complain? A Gecko is a pest, a vermin. It fanned the flames that burned Abraham, and It should be killed" he said, more calmly now. 

 

He turned to see the blood flow from needle, through tubes, and into bubbling pots. It looked like it was being fermented with various chemicals and catalysts. 

 

"Excellent, excellent! You should be fully drained and quite dead within the hour! Now, you will excuse me, I must collect my dear daughter from Trinity hospital. You see, the ignorant infidel doctors believe that western medicine alone is keeping her alive. They seek to poison her with their concoctions and sedatives. No! Not for my daughter, dear Sofia. She will live and breathe deeper than any daughter known to man!" he said triumphantly. 

 

"So I must bid you farewell, dear Mr. Geckoman. Do try and be dead when I return!" he said, flipping his lab coat as he spun, and exited the room. 

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Geckoman didn't say anything as the madman left. He just quickly reviewed his situation. He was strapped down, with needles in his veins. And the straps were firm, and the needles were in his veins. He needed those. 

 

This wouldn't be an easy one to get out of, but he'd done worse. He'd once got out of a sack at the bottom of the river while bleeding out from heavy gunshot wounds. But this wasn't one to wriggle out of. So he summoned a Herculean effort, gritting his teeth and straining hard. He didn't need to, nor was he strong enough, to just out and out bust out of his bonds. But he could escape from them, if he could just snap, or even loosen, one or two of his bindings.

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GM

 

Through acts of contortions and strength. Geckoman managed to slip his wrists from the restraints, and, swiftly afterwards his ankles. 

 

This afforded him a better view of the room, and confirmed everything he had seen previously. It was basically a large living room in a suburban house, windows drawn shut, medical equipment everywhere. Books in piled, littering the floor and the shelves, on medicine, biochemistry, alchemy, and Islamic mysticism. Diagrams both old and modern on every wall, with various coloured pins in them. It seemed Tonic had fused every type of medicine from science and superstition in to one mad crazy theory. But a mad crazy theory might just work!

 

The room was untidy to say the least. Without gecko-agility it would have been easy to trip over a pile of books or sheets on the floor. Yes, there was even a comedy rotting bananskin abandoned on the floor. The room would have a musty foul odour if it was not for the incense sticks burning in every corner. 

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Geckoman held up his arms as he stepped over the mess and debris. OK, the needles didn't do much damage, they'd closed already. "Alright, big guy. Let's see who can get to the hospital first." He paused to swing his shoulders and stretch his legs slightly, getting rid of the cramps and aches of his confinement. There was probably going to be a lot of running about to happen. It wouldn't do to forget to warm up.

 

"Alright, and one two three, and one two three..." mumbled Geckoman. And then hurtled across the room and dived straight through the front window.

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GM

 

The windows dutifully smashed. The heavy curtains would have delighted in tangling up any diver. But not a hero with Gecko-agility. 

 

Splinters of glass littered the front lawn. The next door neighbour - a sedentary newly retired grey haired man who looked like he was a man who had spent thirty years or more in the high pressure stress environment of the finance sector gasped as Geckoman leapt into view. 

 

"Geckoman!" he gasped, clutching his chest anxiously and fighting for breath. 

 

Down the road, Geckoman could see a large car drive off with undue haste towards the city centre...

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"Call the police, sir!" shouted Geckoman, breaking into a run. "Get them to impound the living room!" He looked at the car ahead of him. Alright, factually, you can't outrun a car. Except he was faster than a normal human being. And didn't have to stick to roads. Or horizontal surfaces.

 

He fixed his gaze on the rear bumper of the car. He took a deep breath. And then, knowing he'd be in pain later, started running at full throttle, accelerating past a brisk run to a sprint, then onwards to speeds unambiguously superhuman, muscles stretching and snapping in pain and healing up again nigh-instantly. "Stop. THAT. CAAAAAR!!!"

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GM

 

Dr. Tonic looked back, and gasped as Geckoman started to run after him. His face then contorted with determination. He taunted the Green Hero with a little jingle of an injector filled with the heroes blood, before stepping on the gas and rocketing his car forward. 

 

Whilst not top end, it was a good, reliable and big car. It sped forward, oblivious to the highway code, and started weaving left and right across the road, and even into the pavement, causing pedestrians to jump aside. Whilst determined, he was not an expert driver. He knocked off a wingmirror on a street light. He crunched into another car, sending them both spinning and yet...he moved forward, with a crumpled bonnet, smashed headlight, and gurgling of the engine. A moment later, and he sided into an irate motorcyclist, sending a pair of deep gouges down his left side. He ignored it all, jumping forward again, hurtling with breakneck careless speed. 

 

He was just making some progress away from the speeding Geckoman when he crashed headlong into a lorry whilst jumping some lights. The Gasbag inflated into his face and he dropped the injector. A moment was spending ripping the bag from his face and scrabbling around for Geckoman's blood. The Car hissed steam and started to catch fire. Dr Tonic cursed, and kicked open the damaged door, climbing out just as Geckoman caught up with him...

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Geckoman screeched to a halt, hands on his knees and panting. "Come on, Doc," he gasped. "Don't do this. You don't know what my blood'll even do to your daughter. I get she's sick, and I get that you're hurting, but please." He rolled back on his heels, keeping his stance ready, but also open. He didn't want to raise fists here.

 

"When I first got my powers, I had a horrific fit. I blacked out, lost control of my body, and nearly died. I woke up crashed into a hillside missing a hand." His voice took on a pleading tone. "This is your daughter, man. Don't make fight you."

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GM

 

"But there you are wrong, oh so very wrong!" laughed Tonic in Geckoman's face. "I am inspired. I have seen visions! I am guided! When my mastery of mere science was complete, I looked further, looked deeper! I saw dimensions other than this world. I saw lights, ghosts, Jinn! Why, your puny closed mind cannot begin to comprehend the wonder of it all!"

 

"If we fight, it will be you who falls, my green friend. And your blood is infused with my own catalysts! It will save my daughter, make her stronger than ever! haha!"

 

"But I have no need to crush your wicked head in my hands. No! Catch me if you can!!!" he said in a snort, and ran off. 

 

Tonic was of average height, but broad, like he had muscle pasted onto him. One might think he was a lumpering ape, but this was not so. Instead, he leapt into the air, a clear twenty feet into the air, and landed heavily, straight into an olympian run. Tonic was as fast as Geckoman!

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