I was going to work on this a bit more, the text is a little rough, but since it’s Barry Reese’s birthday…
…I’m going to just go with it.
Let’s see who’s next on the DOUBLE DARE list?
…the Super Human.
This guy and I have been occupying head space forever…
I came up with CITIZEN SILVER after being exposed to JUSTICE, INC. in paperbacks. Yes he looks like The Avenger but that’s because he’s albino not freaked out with nerve damage and pigmentation issues related to shock. Samir “Samuel” Silver is your standard pulp hero: demented scientist/biologist parents who tried to “cure” his albinism which was something that had more physical issues involving light sensitivity and sun exposure. Between experiments and a physical and mental regimen suggested to them by other scientists doing similar experiments they got a kid whose skin and hair turned chalk white…
So he did what most guys in the 1930s with odd skin conditions did in a pulp setting…
Now, let’s see exactly what that was…
Oh, Barry Reese connection?
He’s a big fan of JUSTICE INC. and THE AVENGER…
Don’t believe me?
Then you obviously haven’t kept up with THE ADVENTURES OF LAZARUS GRAY…
If you really want to show Barry some love, you’ll buy all of those now.
You won’t regret it.
Now, on with the show…
The world may have changed, but he was changeless. His life, his mission also remained unchanged in all the years he had lived. He answered to many names in his life: to parents he was Sam, to heads of business and state he was Mr. Silver, the press dubbed him Citizen Silver when he began adventuring, but the name he earned in his many escapades was the one he admittedly enjoyed more than any other…
…The Man Death Fears.
The last title was actually one his parents had made closer to the truth when, in trying to make him “normal” a quirk in their genetic tampering not only bleached his skin and hair white as snow, somehow his physical and mental aging had slowed to a crawl. By the time his assistants were slowing down and retiring from the life, he continued on as vital and youthful as ever. Eventually the Silver Circle went from a team, to a firm, to an organization to a global security entity that long ago exceeded his expectations in his war against crime. Long ago he put patents on his equipment and began to mass produce equipment for law enforcement that reduced lethal engagements in the field and aided in the fields of investigation and forensics. It also allowed for Silver to continue his work and disappear for extended periods of time.
Tonight though, his first night back from the Fold and the war that had once again returned to his home world, Citizen Silver was revisiting old haunts of one of those who they had chased here, one of his old foes who had taken advantage of the gifts of La’sua C’nu and the Fold to keep himself young and vital. As he raced across the muddy rail yards, the moist earth and sludge sucking at the soles of his feet, Silver recalled a different land and a different war all those years ago; battlefields and trenches and Death raining down from every direction, her cool hand stroking the cheeks of boys, barely men, screaming in the night as their innocence died and the blood of that innocence seeped deeply into the few feet of mud that was meaningless except for that moment in time.
He earned his title then, long before the world and underworld were aware that Samir Silver ever existed. His foes like his allies in those long forgotten trenches weren’t more than boys either which didn’t stop Silver from delivering the death that avoided him to others. When he walked out of that purgatory back into the world, he began to develop weapons that would curtail or disable but not kill. War had brought him his fill of killing. At least that’s what he believed and told himself at the beginning.
He hadn’t realized then that he was thinking as a boy still.
There would always be evils that might force a re-evaluation of what one held as a solid belief.
Though this reverie was a momentary distraction, it nearly put to the test wether or not Death still feared Silver after all these years. Reflex, more than conscious thought, had him in motion as a pair of giant circular saws blossomed from the ground where he stood, their metallic whine interrupted by the cough of long unused motors choking on some of the silt that spattered into them as the saws broke ground. Rolling to a crouch, Silver had only now begun to process that the vibration of the ground beneath his feet as the saws began to spin triggered his reflexes. The teachings and training in the Method, begun by his parents, had once again saved him from harm. He knew what would probably come next and palmed a pair of spheres that looked like slightly larger than average marbles. He closed his fist tight and shook the spheres like a pair of dice, letting the warmth of his hand and the kinetic force of the spheres activate a reaction before tossing the spheres at the saws. Silver dove for cover behind a storage car on a side track, as the spheres flew across the distance. The saws had cleared their housing and were rotating on extended metal arms towards Silver’s general direction; the high pitched whine of the blades gnashing through the air with their banshee cries. The spheres struck at the base of the extended arm of the nearest saw with two small pops lost beneath the roar of the saws. Silver didn’t have long to wait, the metal of the base began to change from a dull gray to a rust like color and in seconds the whine of the saws were drowned out by a scream of creaking metal as the weight of the saw collapsed its weakened support, both blades cutting into one another making a cacophony that got the attention of workers in the active parts of the rail yard. Silver, in the meantime, moved around the dueling metallic mess towards the small shack that used to be an operations office.
Silver didn’t bother with ceremony, he laid a solid foot into the door and it snapped open the ancient lock succumbing easily. He was about to plunge through when the Method touched his senses once again as he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Step out” Silver said without looking up. “I will not repeat the request.”
“Mr. Silver. It’s been a while.”
Silver whirled, certain the for the first time ever the Method had misled him. A nearby shadow tore itself away from a rusting passenger car and assumed the shape of a man. Not any man though, because the voice and Silver’s senses told him it was a man who, by all rights, should be dead.
“Peregrine,” Silver said.
Max Davies extended a hand. “You seem as surprised to see me as I am to see you.”
“I am,” Silver replied taking and shaking the gloved hand that was offered. “Good to see you’re still in the fight.”
It was Max’s turn to be surprised. “So you accept that it’s me just like that?”
“I could ask the same, Peregrine”, Silver replied. “You know my abilities. If you weren’t you, regardless of the improbability of the circumstances, I would know and have reacted accordingly. I also presume since we aren’t locked in combat with me trying to convince you I am who I am, I assume you’re aware of some of my story.”
Max smiled. “If I wasn’t certain, that’s the convincer. Who’s downstairs?”
“The Deathsmith”, Silver answered. Max’s expression must have betrayed his disbelief. Silver added, “It’s a long story.”
Max checked his pistol. “I expect to hear all about it at Donovan’s when we have time.”
“Donovan’s?” Silver asked lifting a trapdoor at the rear of the shack. The pit below was pitch black but the cool air rising from it suggested some kind of tunnel was below. “They’re still around?”
“You’d be amazed what’s managed to survive.” Max made sure his weapons were in reach and followed Silver who had already found a ladder and began to descend.
“No, Peregrine”, Silver said softly. “I wouldn’t be surprised by the things that managed to survive at all.”