Free Civil War Prose Novel by Stuart Moore Page A

mean quick.”
    “It’s a prototype peacekeeper, built by Doctor Doom—you know who he is?”
    “Yes, Reed.”
    Victor Von Doom was Reed’s arch-foe, a brilliant, armored scientist who ruled the country of Latveria with, quite literally, an iron fist. Doom had nurtured a grudge against Reed since their days in college together.
    “Right, well. Doom claims he intended the ’bot only for domestic use, within Latveria. But it developed some sort of rudimentary artificial intelligence and fled to America.”
    Ms. Marvel frowned. “Doom actually warned you about this thing? Why?”
    “Maybe he sees which way the political winds are blowing in this country. I suspect he wants to get on Tony’s good side. Or perhaps he has another, deeper plan.” Reed hesitated. “I don’t know.”
    Tony realized: Those are his least favorite three words in the English language.
    “Thanks, Reed. Stark out.”
    Tony double-checked; all the Avengers were on his frequency. “Everyone follow my lead,” he said. “This is the beginning of a new era. It’s our chance to show how things will work, from now on. To regain the people’s trust.”
    “Me like trust,” Spider-Man said. “Trust good.”
    “I AM DOOM!”
    “Aerial assault first.” Tony launched himself forward. “Carol?”
    Ms. Marvel fell in behind him, her long red sash waving bright in the morning sun. Together they arrowed toward the robot’s head, slicing through the air in perfect formation. It turned glowing eyes toward them, lurched to one side—
    —and stumbled into a parked car, smashing the trunk flat. A woman wrenched open the driver’s side door and half-stumbled, half-fell out, clutching a baby. She lurched, looking around with panicked eyes, and ran—straight into the robot’s leg.
    Slowly, its head swiveled to look down at her.
    Tony whirled toward Ms. Marvel. Her blue-gloved arms were outstretched, beginning to glow with power. Carol’s half-alien physiology allowed her to generate highly charged energy bolts; she was one of the most powerful Avengers in a combat situation.
    But if she fired at the robot now…
    “Carol.” Tony’s amplified voice was sharp, deliberately piercing. “Civilian safety first.”
    Ms. Marvel grimaced, nodded, and swooped downward.
    The robot reached a huge arm down toward the frightened woman. She stood frozen, backed up against the car, her fingers rigid around her baby. Ms. Marvel arced down between them, reaching out. But the woman shrank even farther back.
    She’s as terrified of us, Tony realized, as of the Doombot.
    “Protocols,” he said.
    Ms. Marvel seemed to pivot in midair on the ball of her foot, coming to a stop just above the battered car. The robot’s head bobbed up and down in a confused motion, looking from her to the woman and back again.
    Tony found himself staring at Ms. Marvel. She’s beautiful. Statuesque, powerful, with a dancer’s grace. A model for everything we’re trying to achieve.
    Ms. Marvel turned to the woman and spoke in even, rehearsed tones.
    “I am Ms. Marvel,” she said, “a registered superhuman. Real name, Carol Danvers. I’m here to assist you. Please stand back and allow me to—”
    Tony was already in motion—but a half-second too late. The robot lifted its huge metal arm and swatted Ms. Marvel out of the air.
    “AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!”
    Tony’s powerful repulsor rays blasted into the robot’s head. Sparks showered into the air. He retreated back a few feet and activated a multiple camera protocol. All at once, his internal monitors showed:
Ms. Marvel had struck a building, raining bricks down onto the sidewalk. She was clearly dazed, but her pulserate showed even. No serious injuries.
The woman ran off down the street, holding her baby. Safe.
The Doombot’s brain-casing had cracked open, exposing servos and circuitry. But it was still standing. Tony felt the tingle of a radar lock, and saw an unfamiliar weapon-tube extruding from the ’bot’s