Epilogue: Icarus P. Sidewinder
Stockholm, Sweden
D.P. Sidewinder liked the quiet air of Sweden. It was so much more personable than the coldness of Russia or the facelessness of America. Sitting on the veranda of his penthouse apartment, he sipped his tea and looked out onto the streets below.
A slight fizzling sound turned his attention from the landscape to his living room, where his son was just arriving from work. The young man shook his blonde locks and tossed a duffel bag onto the couch, while he placed what looked like a black toolbox on the gorund.
"Dad!" Icarus called. "I'm home from work!"
"And how did the first day go?" the elder Sidewinder asked, moving hurriedly to the 'toolbox'.
"Not bad," his son answered, sinking into a plush leather armchair, leaning his head back as if asleep. "I think the pack might need some work done, though..."
D.P.'s eyes narrowed at his son's nonchalance reguarding his jetpack... then widened as he opened the 'toolbox' to reveal Icarus' damaged pack. "What did you do to this thing?!"
Icarus began rubbing his temples as his father raised his voice. "It was a bloodbath, okay, Dad?" Icarus began. "First, William had a little meet-and-greet with the rest of the team - who I'm sorely disappointed in, by the way. You'd think William would know how to assemble a team by this point in his life, but you wouldn't know it to look at --"
"Icarus!" came his father's commanding voice. "The pack?"
"Oh, right," Icarus said, back to his nonchalant attitude. "Then he put us in this battle simulator where we fought members of 'Vanguard Proper' as I like to call them. Ran the simulator seven times and each time, he had something 'go wrong' with the pack..."
"What do you mean, 'go wrong'?" Sidewinder asked.
"Well, the first round, he was somehow able to override the security systems you'd built in and shut the whole thing down..." Icarus said, finally looking up to meet his father's gaze.
"How so?" D.P. asked. "I designed it specifically so that even the Glitch Virus couldn't get in!"
"He's got an alien on the team... and he brought some kind of A.I. with him," Icarus answered, laying his head back again. "It probably found a way to override the system."
"Alien tech, huh?" the elder Sidewinder said, stroking his chin. "Interesting..." A look back at the jetpack changed his expression. "Still... how does that explain the damaged solar converters? Or the shorted suspension relay?"
"During the third round, some big skull-faced guy hit me in the back with an axe, which sufficiently managed to crack the solar converters wide open," Icarus answered with a heavy sigh. He continued, as though explaining to a child. "Then, during the last round, I was dodging some maniac with a rocket launcher and a death wish while trying to fight off a girl with wings, when some British guy jumped on my back. The strain of the pack trying to run three simulations at once is what fried the relay..."
D.P. let out a low whistle. "I wonder where William is getting a lot of his technology," he said, closing the jetpack case and placing it on the coffee table. "Hard light holograms, instantaneous transport... it all sounds fascinating."
"Well, we can't all live like you, Dad," Icarus said, rising finally and making his way to the minibar by the fireplace. "Not everyone can get away with swiping Mandelovian patents and selling them to the Soviet Union... and get away with it."
D.P. straightened up and pointed an accusing finger at his son. "I am an inventor and an entrepreneur, Icarus Percival Sidewinder!" he yelled. "I didn't hear you complaining when I was able to make this jetpack for you using a combination of those 'swiped' patents! I didn't hear you complaining when I made you into the foremost pilot in Europe! I certainly didn't hear you complaining when I bought this penthouse!"
"Alright, Dad, I get the point," Icarus said, rolling his eyes. "Geez..."
"Everything I've done, I've done for you!" Sidewinder continued. "Never forget that! I am not only your father, but your technician and your financial backer! As such, I think I deserve respect!"
"Yeah, okay, sounds good, Dad," Icarus said, obviously no longer listening. "I gotta go get washed up for my date with Inge tonight. Don't wait up!" And, with that, he was gone.
"This isn't over, Icarus..." D.P. Sidewinder muttered, picking up the jetpack carrying case and making his way toward the workshop.
