But it was too late as the soldier at the controls, already extremely jumpy, yanked down on the switch. The electromagnetic arrays came to life and a burst of enormous energy surged from them. But instead of radiating out, their energy flowed directly into the outstretched arms of David Banner . . .
. . . and kept on flowing.
The lights on the island, then on the bridges, and then throughout the entire Bay Area, went out.
Bruce watched in horror as his father, his body coursing with electrical energy, crackled and broke open his shackles. The arrays imploded in a flash. David flung out his arms, sending up an electromagnetic field that made the entire hangar sizzle.
The monitors went dark. Even the headlights and the ignition systems of the vehicles sputtered out.
“Hit them again,” shouted Thunderbolt Ross.
“We can’t, sir!” one of the soldiers said desperately, manipulating controls that had gone dead. “There’s no power, some kind of counterelectromagnetic field—”
“Then move in there with everything you’ve got,” said Ross. “Fire at will.”
It won’t do any good, thought Betty, who was becoming rather tired of being right all the time.
The father, laughing, looked over at where Bruce had been thrown—and was met by a huge green fist which lifted him, in a lightning flash, into the air, through the roof of the hangar, and across the bay. The Hulk, with a roar, leaped after him
. . . smash . . . killer . . . murder . . . smash him, yes, SMASH HIM . . .
and for the first time the minds of the Hulk and Bruce Banner were not split, were not pulling against one another, but instead were acting as one vast engine of destruction, aimed straight at their mutual father.
He collided in midair with his father and the impact carried them miles into the night as a firestorm of electricity crackled around them. They landed by the edge of a distant mountain lake, staggered back, and faced each other. The slightly waning moon stared down at them.
David Banner stood almost as tall as the Hulk, the electricity now drained from his body, laughing. “You see, nothing can stop me, son. I absorb it all, and give it back.”
The Hulk roared at his father, a sound so loud and unique that it registered on one of the monitors at Ross’s command center.
“They’re painted,” said a technician. “Snider Lake.”
“Call up the task force,” Ross ordered.
Unaware of who or what was coming for him, and uncaring as well, the Hulk pounded David Banner with both fists. But not only did it not seem to bother him, but with each blow Banner took he seemed to grow bigger, greener, absorbing the Hulk’s energy, his cellular structure. The Hulk stepped back, regarded him with horrified confusion as the father stood. They were the same height.
Once more Banner’s mind informed the Hulk as they thought, What the fu—?
“Go on, son,” David Banner said defiantly. “The more you fight me, the more of you I become.”
The Hulk was more confused now, and kept his distance—ready to strike but holding back. Then he crouched down and, scooping up an enormous boulder, lifted it and crashed it down on David. Instantly it caused his father to transform into stone, which would have been daunting . . . for anyone who was incapable of shattering stone. But that definitely wasn’t the Hulk’s problem, as he pounded away, again and again, his rage growing and his strength escalating. With a final blow, he reduced his father to a pile of dust and rock fragments. They fell on the Hulk, and he pushed them off in what he thought was the end of the problem.
But in doing so, he transferred energy back to his father that David Banner was able to reshape his body so that he once more mirrored the physical makeup and endurance of the Hulk.
. . . killer . . . murderer . . . smash, kill, tear, rend limb from limb, kill . . .
In a white-hot fury, the Hulk lashed out once again with his fists. The two of them, locked in a struggle, made their way to the lake’s edge, wildly pounding away at each other. With each blow, the air around them seemed to grow cold, vacant. Even the water began to turn opaque and icy. The two of them seemed almost to merge as the lake’s water began to freeze around them.
Having their subjects targeted via long-range signals bounced off satellites, Ross and Betty stood at the monitors back at the hangar. Betty’s mind was racing, trying to come up with some means of stepping in without getting herself or Bruce or both of them killed. Nothing was occuring to her.
“Strange,” said Colonel Thomas at one of the monitors, zooming in on one of the satellite images. “We’re reading a phenomenal drop in temperature there but a simultaneous radiological activity.”
Ross looked blankly at his daughter. “The ambient energy,” said Betty matter-of-factly. “They’re absorbing it all. That’s where the additional mass comes from. They’re literally converting energy into matter.”
“Can they convert it back?”
“If they can,” Betty said softly, “we’re all dead.”
Fighter jets flew overhead, passing by the two enormous figures, locked in a death grip, upon a lake that was now completely frozen. Sparks of energy, neural charges, spiked through the frozen water.
And as the Hulk struggled in that frozen grip, the mind and thoughts of Bruce Banner struggled against the Hulk’s, seeking something, grabbing at something, and there were Thousands of images, bits of memory and desire, suddenly coalesced into a moment of absolute calm and clarity in the Hulk’s frozen eyes, and he knew right where to look, right when to look; it was right there, right there, Christmas, David Banner sat on the floor playing with his son, fighting, except it was in play, each
