Nigh Invulnerable

All he wanted was a chance at a better life in the midst of a dystopian future...

Instead, he found himself in the present day; gifted with godlike powers that made him irresistible to women... and a threat to the wicked.

The year is 2261. Humanity has spread to the stars, thanks to the assistance of their alien allies. But this technological leg up comes at a price, and thousands of Earth's young men are recruited to fight in an interstellar war. Felix Dvoryanin answers the call, thanks in large part to the encouragement of his only female friend. After his DNA is fundamentally altered to make him the perfect super soldier, Felix is shipped to the front lines hundreds of light years from Earth where humans are being massacred in frightening numbers.

After the miraculous and incomprehensible end to a hopeless battle, Felix finds himself transported to an Earth two-hundred-and-fifty years in his past with his superpowers intact. Unable to ignore the suffering around him, Felix attempts to use his powers for good. What starts with random acts of kindness quickly blooms into feats which gain him international acclaim. But his stardom comes with a price, and he quickly attracts the attention of villainous entities who will stop at nothing to unlock the secret of his remarkable powers.

Nigh Invulnerable is the tale of a lonely man who, with the eventual help of several impossibly gorgeous companions, overcomes both the horrors of war and the bitterness of betrayal to become something greater than he could have ever imagined: a hero.

Author's note:

This novel is a work of science fiction adventure. It features plenty of violence and impolite language; not to mention an unusually spicy take on the superhero origin story. I've split this novel into five sections for publication here.

All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

***

This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author (except for the use of brief quotations in a review).

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, businesses, products, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

***

One

"Breaking news! A major victory was scored today by the Terran-Cygnian alliance in the war of Chalawanian aggression. General Deneb, of the Fourth Caste of Gloas, commander of the daring counter-offensive, issued a statement acknowledging praise from Earth Gov and declaring that this will be the first of many victories to come."

"Yeah right," Felix Dvoryanin muttered as he muted the vid-cast, caring little that the newsreader had five more gushing paragraphs prepared in praise of the long overdue victory.

"Hey!" a voice rang out from the back of the room. "I was watching that."

Felix turned toward the voice to spot a 'believer', as he called them. People for whom the war effort represented an opportunity for patriotism, rather than a nuisance. He shrugged and un-muted the vid-cast before seeking out a place to sit which was as far as possible from both the projector and the critic. He unwrapped his meal-pack without enthusiasm and began the ritualistic consumption of precisely four-hundred calories worth of homogenous goo. He made a conscious effort to keep his eyes down lest he once again notice the fact that several of his coworkers were apparently independently wealthy (as evidenced by their meals which contained obviously black-market items with exotic attributes such as shape or taste).

The eating portion of Felix's meal break was accomplished in less time that it took him to open the perma-seal pouch which had kept it, if not appealing, then at the very least safe for human consumption since it had been manufactured at least a decade prior. He wadded up the wrapper and set it aside so he could get some work done before his all-too-brief break ended. Donning his interface goggles and pulling on his input manacles, he pulled up the latest batch of exams from his Intro to Applied Mathematics class in hopes of figuring out how he might adapt his teachings so that he could, at least occasionally, convey what his mother had called kitchen-table math to his current crop of seventeen-year-olds.

A collective groan of frustration went through the room when the vid-cast was once again interrupted, this time fortunately not by Felix's doing. When he heard the nasally voice which replaced the nubile newsreader's, he gave tepid thanks that he had foregone the earpieces for his interface.

"All staff are required to attend a brief meeting to convey an organizational announcement beginning in three minutes. Please check your inbox for your specific meeting room. May God bless you all."

"Oh, great," Felix grumbled.

He pulled his goggles off and looked around to find the mood had dimmed markedly. He joined the queue of his coworkers leaving the break room and followed the unenthusiastic group down the hall, thinking to himself that they collectively looked not unlike a group of zombies. He had learned enough from too many similar meetings in his past to try to read anything into which group he found himself in, the administration having achieved complete mastery of the dark art of not tipping their hand to the proletariat.

Felix took a seat in the middle of the room and stewed in a sense of boredom as he awaited the meeting's commencement. After all, he reasoned, it made no sense to get any more work done until he knew exactly what type of meeting he was attending. One of the assistant administrators, a severely dressed woman roughly his age who looked like she lived on a bit more than the governmentally dictated ration of fourteen hundred calories per day, strode imperiously to the front of the room and waited for the group to give her their undivided attention.

"The board of education has recalibrated our budget and, as a result, it will be necessary to make some adjustments. These types of decisions are never easy, but we must all do our part for the greater good. A lot of consideration, and obviously prayer, went into these obviously challenging choices."

"Get on with it," Felix muttered quietly. "Just tell us which group we're in."

The man to his left, a history teacher old enough to be his grandfather, gave him a dirty look. Felix frowned in embarrassment before returning his attention to the functionary standing before them.

"... each of you will be expected to absorb your portion of the work from your less fortunate colleagues. Those of you teaching required classes should see a modest increase, likely not more than three or four extra students. As for the rest who are responsible for electives, the increase will be greater. We hope, however, that it will not be more than fifteen additional students per class. Please contact your supervisor if you have any questions or concerns, and may God bless you all."

"Electives..." Felix grumbled as he stood with the rest of the 'lucky' ones. "When did math become an elective?"

As he made his way from the meeting room and toward his classroom, he shook his head at how remarkably similar he sounded to his father. On his way, he noticed a handful of students who seemed to be complaining louder than usual and he wondered if their disquiet was caused by the notifications no doubt popping up in their goggles. As he turned the corner and headed into the more run-down wing of the school, his already dour mood found cause to dim even further. Standing in the doorway to his appointed classroom was Friar Volkov, another assistant administrator and the closest thing he had to a boss. His classroom was already filling with seventeen percent more students than had attended the same class the previous day, so Felix paused in the hallway and looked expectantly at the man who bore an uncanny resemblance to a bespectacled raccoon.

"Glad you could finally make it," the friar complained in his unsettlingly high-pitched voice.

"I just got out of the 'you didn't get fired... this time' meeting."

"I'd have expected a better attitude from you, considering the leniency we've shown."

Felix suppressed the urge to groan in frustration, opting instead to take a calming breath before saying, "Was there something I could help you with, Brother Volkov?"

"Yes," the friar responded with a triumphant smile on his face. "We've been getting reports you've been teaching forbidden subjects again."

"How in the heh... eck can math be forbidden?"

The friar's eyes widened at the near blasphemy, and he said nothing for several seconds. At length, he decided to address the remainder of Felix's words. "You have, according to several students, repeatedly referenced... shall we say... inappropriate individuals in relation to your teachings."

"Like who?"

The friar looked around furtively before looking back to Felix and whispering, "Newton? Turing? A whole menagerie of Greeks?"

"So?" Felix huffed. "They were some of the greatest mathematicians to ever live."

"But they were pederasts!" the friar hissed. "That's why there were excommunicated."

Felix was unable to hold in the frustrated groan on this occasion. "They weren't pederasts, as you well know. They were simply homosexual. And," he added, cutting off the friar's interruption, "they weren't part of my lesson. I was asked who invented various concepts and I answered truthfully. Even excommunication can't change the fact that they most certainly did invent the things they invented."

The friar's face turned quite purple, to the point where Felix was tempted to pull out his goggles to capture the sight for posterity, before he finally sputtered, "You are not to mention any excommunicated individuals again. For any reason."

"But what am I supposed to do if I'm asked who invented calculus? Lie?"

"You have your instructions, Gospodin Dvoryanin," the friar snapped before stalking off angrily.

"Pederasts," Felix muttered disbelievingly. "Methinks though doth protest too much, Brother Volkov."

He then turned to his classroom and, after sighing wearily, stepped into the overcrowded room to begin his ninth period instruction.

***

The remainder of Felix's day passed in a blur. Lessons were taught, quizzes were given, questions were answered... but he felt disconnected from the entire exercise. He could, quite literally, teach Intro to Applied Mathematics with his eyes closed. In fact, the temptation to do just that was sometimes almost overwhelming, due in large part to the frustration he felt stemming from the disturbingly high percentage of students who made it to their mid-teens still unable to do basic arithmetic.

He abandoned the thought exercise of improving his scores as the day wore on. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that, of the population comprised of (in addition to himself) students, parents, fellow teachers, and administrators; he was the only one interested in his students learning what he was trying to teach them. He felt as if the malaise that had gripped so many of his coworkers was a physical thing, like the malignant villains in his father's stash of old movies.

As he trudged from the enormous building where instruction was offered for the children between the ages of seven and seventeen from throughout the Khatanga Gulf region, he had the distinct impression that his nemesis was following close behind preparing to pounce. But rather than feeling anxious about this sensation, he felt regret. Why, he wondered bitterly, was he not one of the individuals called to theotherroom. It would have meant unemployment, which came with a whole new set of very real, and very significant, problems; but he would be able to stop beginning each day he stepped into the building he was now departing wondering if 'today' wastheday.

He took his melancholy onto the tube, at least that was the reasoning his subconscious lamely offered in response to the wide berth he was given in the otherwise packed car. Felix knew better, of course. The famine of 2237 had had a devastating impact on both him and his family. Although his mother had fared far worse, he had suffered irreparable damage which left him with a permanent bloated appearance which was only exacerbated by a glandular issue that caused him to be perpetually a few dozen kilos overweight despite strict adherence to rationing guidelines. He was otherwise reasonably average even down to brown hair, beard and eyes. It was something that left him with crippling depression, a condition which only worsened when obviously hungry people looked at him like he had literally stolen their dinner. He felt the pull of his goggles offering him an escape from his reality, but he knew instinctively that the emptiness he felt would only be exacerbated by such a pitiful exercise.

Blissfully, the four-hundred-plus kilometer trip across the gulf and into the heart of the Taymyr Administrative District, part of the Chinese Confederation, was accomplished in less than an hour. Felix eschewed hiring an autonomous tuk-tuk in favor of walking and enjoying the balmy late February weather. He reached their tenement building thirty short minutes later. Fortunately, the wait for the lift was reasonably short since taking the stairs to the ninety-second floor was not an option.

As he entered the eighty-seven square meter apartment, he called out, "I'm home," but heard no response.

He wandered through the tiny space to discover every room empty save for the single bathroom, whose door was locked and obscured faint sounds of the water-less shower's whining drone. He stowed his bag in the hall closet and poured himself fifteen percent of his daily ration of two liters of water. He quickly zoned out, thanks in part to the low hum which was always present in their building. He did not even realize he had slipped into unconsciousness until he heard his father's loud belch as the latter entered the room.

"You're home early," the elder Dvoryanin barked in his typical gruff voice. "Thought you were going to dinner with The Leech."

"Don't call Ursula that," Felix complained. "And I am still going to dinner with her. She just texted and said something came up, so we're eating late."

"Your treat, no doubt."

Felix took a calming breath, something that was becoming an increasingly common occurrence in his life, and said, "Dad... can we not do this right now? I've had kind of a wretched day."

"Fine. But don't expect the matter to stay tabled forever. That woman is just using you, son."

"We're friends," Felix sighed. "There's nothing wrong with being friends with a woman."

"Friends pay half the time. Friends don't rope-a-dope you with offers of sex, or even dating exclusively. Friends don't use my son simply to foster a spirit of competition amongst the guys she's actually interested in hooking up with."

"What do you expect me to do, Dad? Look at me. It's not like I've got women lined up down the hall who are interested in me. It's Ursula, or nothing. So excuse me if I'd rather spent a couple nights a month with a beautiful woman instead of sitting here staring at the wall."

"I don't begrudge you the company, son. I just hate seeing you get treated like this. You deserve so much better."

"Whatever," Felix grumbled. "Listen... I've got to get going."

"Wait, son. I'm sorry. What were you going to tell me about your day?"

"Just that I didn't get laid off."

"I would have thought that would be a good thing."

Felix shook his head morosely and muttered, "Maybe. But I still got to enjoy the anxiety spike of wondering if I'm about to get laid off. Not to mention the fact that I have to work that much harder with the larger class load. Oh, and Friar Jackass has decided it's against the rules to admit that someone who was homosexual twenty-five centuries ago might have figured out the deal with triangles."

"Ignorant savages," his father muttered. "So, what? You gonna quit?"

"Hardly. What else would I do? I'm only credentialed to teach. And if I quit mid-term, I'd get blackballed throughout the country."

"Sounds like you need a new profession," his father observed unhelpfully.

"Tell me about it," Felix grumbled before getting up to go in search of some headache suppressants.

Two

"Hey!" a feminine voice called out too loudly, causing Felix's head to whip around toward the doorway to the restaurant. He quickly spotted his dinner guest hurrying through the crowded eatery and drawing not a few glares in the process.

Ursula Hansen was a woman Felix had originally met in primary school. They had been, if not great friends, then at least friendly during their school years. Ursula had been more than willing to trade ignoring a bit of light leering on Felix's part in return for letting him handle the bulk of her homework. It was a strategy which, even years later, he could not bring himself to regret. He had considered her to be, by a comfortable margin, the most magnificently beautiful woman, not only in his school, but throughout the world and all of humanity's colonies. She was nearly as tall as his one-hundred-eighty centimeters with long, startlingly white hair, alluringly pale blue eyes and a figure which had left humans of all sexual orientations slobbering in her wake. More precisely, it had been impossible for any living creature to lay eyes on her at her peek and have any thought other than, 'those are the most magnificent breasts in history'.

Graduation had caused them to grow apart as Felix had gone to university and Ursula had gone in search of her fortune. She had managed a brief stint in modeling, but that had quickly flamed out when her representatives caught wind of a job she had taken which had run afoul of the Morality Standards Commission. When the modeling money had dried up, she had continued the trend of trading on her looks by entering the service industry. The natural itinerant lifestyle of restaurant and hotel work perfectly suited her impulsive nature. Last Felix had heard, she was an assistant manager at a vodka distillery where she seemed to genuinely believe a proposal from the owner's son, with whom she had only had sporadic conversations to date, was imminent.

She dropped into the chair opposite him (pointedly failing to notice the way Felix's eyes drank in the spectacular jiggle which flowed across her generous body as a result) and huffed, "Hi."

"Good evening," he said formally.

"Are you pissed that I'm late?"

"Don't be silly," he deflected, adding in a deprecating wave of his hand which stood in stark opposition to his genuine irritation at the fact that she was, in fact, two hours later than the ninety minutes she had originally warned him she would be delayed.

"Great," she enthused, either not noticing his deception or not caring. "I have had the craziest day!" She glanced down at the menu laying on the table before adding, "And I'm starving!" Felix handed over his ration chit, which she snatched enthusiastically. "You're the best." She glanced momentarily down at the water sitting before him and he sat with bated breath to see if tonight would be the night that she would refuse to eat his meal (and hers) in front of him. Ultimately, the moment passed with neither saying a word until the waiter arrived.

After he had taken their (her) order, Felix said, "Crazy how? Are we talking crazy 'ha ha' or crazy 'uh oh'?"

Nigh Invulnerable Pt. 01

Discussion(0)