Spacebullies Two: The Search For More Parody

In the sub-universe based on Filmation productions:

Planet Alwaysurnia was in good shape, with no large-scale violence; but there were thefts occurring frequently. Joketeller, the human criminal who had been transported from an Earth-variant to Mighty Male's territory, and who had acquired teleportation power, was avoiding capture not only by disappearing, but also by not bothering to go after the MOST valuable treasures. His henchman Stickywick, who could change into a tree, had been joined by another such fellow: Grassglider, who could melt into grass and weeds and be even more undetectable. They killed no one, thus not achieving top "Most Wanted" status; but they were laying up multiple treasure troves. These might assist any future major evildoers who tried to fill the space left by the unlamented Skamartistor.

Dolph Bluntgrin, the hardcase war veteran, and his shape-changing bride Subsoila, remained on the duty of hunting for Joketeller, with no unreasonable demands placed on them by the King. At intervals, in case wizardry might uncover a clue, the Bluntgrins were joined by the medium-grade magic-user Storko, who looked like Gollum if Gollum had been on the side of good. Storko did succeed so far as to confirm the existence of the gang's third member.
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In between times with Storko, the Bluntgrins occasionally had another assistant: the unusually strong female Face Twister who had previously impersonated Lady (now Princess) Teerifica. Since being brought over to the side of good, this woman had taken to calling herself Klenzita. She derived this from the verb "cleanse," indicating that she had been cleansed by AsaLion's grace. When in company with the Bluntgrins, Klenzita purposely kept herself looking UN-attractive, so as to spare Subsoila from any worry that the Face Twister might have notions of husband-stealing.

Meanwhile, Teerifica's father Weapons-Man, a widower for many years, was keeping an unobtrusive eye on Klenzita's progress in reforming-- just in case Copperfox might want to give this ex-villainess a good man to help her along in goodness. You know, like Alphonse Nickelworth marrying the reformed Harpy Grinn on Seedubb, or Winter Trooper marrying Harpy's Terran counterpart Carly Whiz.

For that matter, closer at hand, like Battery-Cat marrying the reformed Katlittura.
 
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A compact starship landed close to Castle Greyhair, having announced its coming to Sorcery Lass. A human warrior named Ordinarius Rankenphyle was on command duty for the castle guards this day, so he went with four men to meet the single occupant of the ship.

This turned out to be the midget giant Nawtyfeller, the master of distant Forgeworld, who had created the battleaxe Stormcracker for Thorpe of Hallpasscard.

"Greetings, gentlemen!" (Dry factual explanation follows.) "Since things are getting quiet among the worlds I usually hear from, and since your world has a nice mythical feel, I came over to see if anyone here needs anything exceptional created for important use."

Ordinarius did a Mister Spock eyebrow lift. "Excuse me, but are you telling us that you're a notorious interstellar arms dealer, trying to START a war in order to get rich selling weapons to both sides?"

The midget giant frowned. "I have heard of such things happening, but I never create any weapon or tool for evildoers to use."

Before the officer-of-the-day could say more, the hauntingly lovely Sorcery Lass appeared beside them. "At ease, Lieutenant Rankenphyle. I can vouch for Nawtyfeller's honesty. I did some business with him three hundred years ago."

The quasi-magical mechanic bowed to Sorcery Lass, then looked back at Ordinarius. "No harm done, young man, it's your duty to ask questions. Who is the highest available person in your non-magical chain of command?"

"Weapons-Man is at the castle today," replied the lieutenant; "and he's a logical choice to talk business with you."

It was the midget giant's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Was he named 'Weapons-Man' from birth?"

"No, his given name is Dickon Docker; but he considers that silly; and since his parents went to The Good Place years ago, he even signs his name as Weapons-Man."
 
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Just to remind the reader that this is a pastiche of a kids' cartoon series, and at the same time to insert a subtle endorsement of John Ringo's novels, Weapons-Man brought along an upright-walking rabbit about the size of a ten-year-old human child.

"Welcome to Castle Greyhair, Master Nawtyfeller! This is my friend Notsobadd Bunny, from the Backer-Than-Back Woods. Many of our talking beasts hang out there."

"That includes the widely-respected Battery-Cat," the somewhat-anthropomorphized rabbit added. "Welcome to Alwaysurnia. Do you make any impressive melee weapons no bigger than a switchblade knife? Because my forepaws are an anatomical compromise between grasping objects, and still serving as front FEET; so my thumbs are less perfectly opposable than a humanoid's thumbs. If I do a one-handed grip on any weapon longer than a knife, my control is poor."

"Since you come endorsed by Weapons-Man," said Nawtyfelller, "I see no problem with providing you such a blade. But if I may ask, is this only a matter of my skills being available, or do you have a particular cause to want to be better armed?"

Notsobadd nodded, largely with his ears. "Yes, I do have cause. Even though this world has been rid of large-scale perils, a much lesser threat is baffling us over in Backer-Than-Back. One day I was plucking edible herbs, when A FIST appeared out of the foliage and SOCKED me on the snout! But no limb and body could be seen behind it, and the fist itself was gone in a moment."

Sorcery Lass interjected, "Not only do I approve of Nawtyfeller equipping you as you desire, but I will recommend sending Dolph and Subsoila back with you to track down the owner of that fist."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Battery-Cat had a comfortable den established for himself and his new mate Katlittura, in a part of Backer-Than-Backwoods located about forty miles north of the spot where Grassglider had sucker-punched Notsobadd Bunny. When Sorcery Lass magically communicated with the couple, asking if they were free to assist in following the latest clue to outlaws' whereabouts, Battery-Cat replied, "Normally I would jump right in; but Katlittura has just had it confirmed that she is now expecting our first four babies. Thus she can't assume human form to do things, or our babies would be injured."

Katlittura tapped her husband on one green-furred shoulder. "Darling, let's ask if Crocodarla is free to stay with me for a while. If yes, you can go help the other good guys on this chase." Crocodarla was a sapient reptile, physically a crocodile but omnivorous where nutrition was concerned. Besides intelligence and speech, she possessed an intriguing feature: her teeth were all retractable, so she could carry living things in her jaws without harming them. She had long been acquainted with Battery-Cat, and had extended her friendliness to the green-jaguarish hero's bride.

For the sake of brevity, let the reader accept that Crocodarla was available, and Battery-Cat thus could join the posse with a clear conscience.
 
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Once provided with materials, Nawtyfeller took just one afternoon to create a proper-size dagger for Notsobadd Bunny: one which would always return to him if thrown or dropped. As a goodwill gesture, this job was for free. The upright-walking large rabbit thanked the galactic artisan, and announced his readiness to guide any interested heroes to the scene of his being punched by Grassglider.

Ordinarius Rankenphyle and Klenzita obtained permission to go on the manhunt. A winged man called Flappos, who had performed good service against Skamartistor, joined them. After communicating with Battery-Cat, Sorcery Lass teleported them, with Notsobadd, to meet with Storko and the Bluntgrins. The rendezvous occurred on the banks of a river which flowed through the Backer-Than-Backwoods. Battery-Cat, who like Earthly jaguars was a superb swimmer, would come up the river to find them. The rabbit told the waiting trio about being punched by vegetation. "That's one I never heard of before," Dolph said.

Flappos asked Subsoila, "Are you able to anticipate anything that unusual in the earth?"

"Only insofar as listening for sounds in the ground, and feeling the consistency as I begin tunneling. Well, a little bit of smell-discernment, but that's sharply limited in reach. My only magic is in, well, in BEING a magical person."

"I recommend a driving tactic," said Flappos. "Estimating where the lurker may be, I'll fly to one corner of the search area. We'll contact Battery-Cat, and have him take the far corner. Storko can magically fly to the center of the beating line with Notsobadd, who is a light weight to carry. Dolph, Subsoila, Klenzita and Ordinarius, you spread out across the area to which we hope to drive our hidden adversary."

It wasn't a bad plan. In fact, it probably would have worked..... if Stickywick had not been listening to the discussion at close range.

Both Grassglider and Joketeller got away clean, to rejoin Stickywick the next day.

Oh well, the good guys don't always catch the bad guys on the first try. Maybe not even the second or third.
 
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ENOUGH TIME PASSES FOR "DUNE"-DERIVED CHARACTERS TO REGROUP IN _THEIR_ TERRITORY......

Filthopolis, the capital of Greedy Crime, had been renamed Healthyopolis by General Alec Hurdygurdy; and the project of stocking edible fish in recently-decontaminated bodies of water was going well. Ulysses Bardette, one of the men who had been part of the expedition to Planet Gumwad, came to Healthyopolis, where he told interested parties how that mission had gone.

Another non-Snarkonnen present-- in fact, a nonhuman-- was the Chimpanzian ape-man Stamplector, who had previously visited Waterpark, the Ashtrayides homeworld. Stamplector had been given instructions for building airplanes, and had brought those to his planet's leading industrialists. Now he was back in the Frank Herbert-parody zone, hoping to find that Mister Herbert's _colossal_ pessimism was not replicating itself in The Never-Stopping Story.

So far, it wasn't.

Ulysses and Stamplector were met by one of the remaining old-regime civilian officials who had not been interested in evacuating with Meedi Ogre's household. Miss Aretha Deema was not quite fifty years old, but she _looked_ over seventy. This, because of the formerly unwholesome environment on this planet, plus the fact that she had not been high enough in rank to receive doses of The Jalapeno which would have counteracted the toxins in her body. Conveniently, Aretha knew who the two visitors were. After answering various questions for them, she raised a subject of her own choosing.

"Captain Bardette, I know that you were a witness to the fast-moving courtship of a peasant-class Snarkonnen woman with a law-enforcement officer from an Earth-variant called Seedubb."

"Indeed so. And others like her have matched with decent men by now."

Aretha nodded. "Since you have ongoing contact with Seedubb, is there any way that additional interplanetary marriages could be facilitated? Of course I wouldn't ask anyone from either side to go into this blind; but it must be possible to open some conversations with reasonable safeguards."

Ulysses grinned wryly. "One of my new Seedubber friends, called Cyberdork, knows all about electronic networks. He told me that in their social media, many unattached women claim they are super-goddesses of perfect beauty, and no man who isn't wealthy and over six feet tall could ever be worthy of them. So I'll wager that numerous men there who are _shorter_ than six feet, would jump at the chance to court a woman who would be _grateful_ to be treated with kindness and courtesy."

Chimpanzians could digest all foods edible for humans. Miss Deema treated Ulysses and Stamplector to lunch, over which the local official asked her guests many intelligent questions about male-female interactions (for Ulysses to answer) and about the challenges faced by relatively primitive societies trying to catch up scientifically (for Stamplector to answer).

After much satisfactory talking and eating, the restaurant manager walked up to their table and spoke to Aretha.

"Miss Deema, there's another off-worlder, just landed a few minutes ago, who is asking to see any local authority figure. She seems well-intentioned, but I can have some hunter-killer floaters ready to target her."

"Have the floaters set on stun."
 
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House Ashtrayides had already arranged for both Waterparkian and Srirachian currency to be accepted on Greedy Crime, and vice-versa. Ulysses paid the bill before following Stamplector, who was accompanying Aretha outside.

There they beheld a tall, ravishingly gorgeous woman with deep crimson hair. Only one detail of her appearance implied any genetic difference from children-of-Adam-and-Eve-type humans. Her costume, not greatly revealing overall, did leave her shoulders bare; and it had to do so for her comfort, because a ponytail of the same hair grew out of each of her shoulders, hanging down behind.

"I am Tiba-bo-Tola, from the Heart Sapphire Sisterhood based in the closest other galaxy."

"If you say so," replied Stamplector. "I see that you come closer than most humans to having proper body-hair coverage. To what do we owe your visit?"

Tiba lowered her gaze a little. "You owe it to the fact that my pride has been humbled. I visited a human-settled planet a hundred or so light-years away from one edge of this galactic sector. I came there predisposed to scold the inhabitants for supposed prejudice against other species, only to discover that those colonists already were living in harmony with sapients _very_ different from themselves." She stepped a bit closer to the Chimpanzian gentle-ape. "And what should I find minutes after landing here, but a nonhuman sapient getting treated as if his presence on the planet is nothing terribly unusual."

"You said 'Heart Sapphire'," Ulysses remarked. "I know of some people called Green Flashlights; are Heart Sapphires anything like them?"

"To some extent. But although my interstellar sorority boasts of respecting diversity, the fact is that all of us are oxygen-breathing viviparous mammalian biped women-- whereas the Flashlight Corps comprises _many_ races, not all of them even oxygen-breathers, and they include both sexes."

"Tell us more," Aretha urged.

"Of course. More than thirty of our sisters-- I was not among them, but was aware of the operation-- landed on an Earth-variant which was home to one male-human Green Flashlight. Our expeditionary sisters got right down to lecturing the locals about how they should be 'sharing' everything with everyone. But our Sapphires are too accustomed to our artifacts being able instantly to _create_ the means of survival; they didn't think enough about the infrastructure needed by people who _don't_ have any such power. We came close to starving that planet's population to death! It took a large force-- yes, a _diverse_ force of Green Flashlights and other high-powered beings-- to reverse the damage we did, before it became a catastrophic die-off."

Aretha clasped the alien woman's hands. "This part of space, until recently, was home to a ruling class, which, unlike what you describe, positively _desired_ to make people miserable. That multi-planetary damage still is being remedied. Perhaps you could pursue truer wisdom while simultaneously advancing our decontamination of Greedy Crime's environment."

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
 
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On Planet Srirachiss, the adolescent hero Stillneater Ashtrayides, son of the late Paul Muddy-Drip and the late Lady Grainy, held a sort of townhall meeting, open to anyone who could make it. More than three thousand of this parody's Fremen-equivalents gathered to hear him speak. Higher-placed individuals in attendance included Stillneater's Aunt Trala with her husband Bunkem Isotope; Stillneater's sister Gladiola; Muddy-Drip's native-born deputy, Chief Sleevecard; Tutti Howizzit, daughter of the deceased Ashtrayides Mentalcat Tofu Howizzit; Felicia Baenboox, an Ashtrayides physicist who spent most of her time on Planet Waterpark; Captain Kracknuk of the Ashtrayides army; Fluralida of the Penny Jezebels; and Haxxadoff, one of the Spaced-Out Guild members who had taken service with House Ashtrayides.

"Most of you," Stillneater told his audience, "had some involvement with the wars of conquest my father undertook. Srirachian history had been so violent, that it seemed only natural at the time to grab the opportunity to put down real and even _potential_ enemies. Only after my father had died seven or eight times, did he fully understand what had manipulated him. But now I know, and I must help all of you to understand.

"Paul Muddy-Drip Ashtrayides was not a cruel man by temperament. But where most story-worlds we know of are flippant parodies of narratives made up on Original Earth, Srirachiss has this unique misfortune: the very worst features of its history actually _conform_ to what a cynical, nihilistic novelist named Frank Herbert wanted to depict. One author's existentially bitter worldview literally compelled my father to become worse than the Snarkonnens he had vanquished-- though even then, he didn't kill anywhere close to as many people as the version of him in books killed. Worse yet, 'Duke Leto the Second,' the ultra-tragic protagonist who is MY template for our storyverse, was made to do the most horrid, unjustified, wantonly wicked thing imaginable, supposedly to enlighten future generations regarding how bad tyranny is. In the books, this Leto purposely metamorphosed into a super-brilliant and almost unkillable monster, then spent many centuries making people's lives miserable-- just because!"

"That's crazy!" exclaimed Fluralida. "If he was that powerful in the story, he could just as easily have enforced principles of mercy, truth and fairness, and used his protracted lifespan to make people grow fully accustomed to _those_ principles!"

"Of course he could have. With most authors, he _would_ have. As it is, Creator AsaLion be praised, my father in his return visits helped me to avoid falling into that incredibly stupid plotline. I can promise you that, fallible though I am, I _won't_ change into a mutation of the Habanero monsters. None of you needs to learn about justice by living your entire life enduring meaningless IN-justice under the rule of a heartless abomination."

"Pardon my ignorance, having lived most of my life under the administration of a cruel emperor," said Haxxadoff, "but what will you give us instead of that senseless horror?"

Stillneater sighed. "Creator willing, I'll give you the very thing which Frank Herbert wanted to believe was unlikely to work: a system of governance in which the leaders CAN BE REQUIRED TO _ANSWER_ FOR THEIR ACTIONS."

Bunkem Isotope ended the interval of stunned silence by running up to Stillneater and hugging him hard. "I say it can work! I give my word of honor here and now, that I will do my best to help make it work!" Trala-Lalia of the Spoon was quick to join her husband, avowing the same intention. Gladiola was next, and many more followed suit.

"As Mentalcats," Stillneater told Bunkem, "you and Tutti will provide much of the brainpower to make this work."

"So will Alec Hurdygurdy and Sleevecard, with their practical experience," Trala-Lalia added.
 
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Not present at the big meeting were Groan Starr Ashtrayides, his wife Princess Vixen, his mother Lady Jazzica, Princess Eerilake, and Puke the furry Kashorchekian. They all were conversing with Giles Magg, the Goulash clone of Groaner's father who was Jazzica's deceased husband.

My readers, especially if they also are Frank Herbert's readers, will remember that what I call Goulash clones are genetic copies which actually carry _memories_ of the original person. It seemed ambiguous whether a "Ghola" (Herbert's own term) could be considered as _being_ the original person. Mister Herbert appears to have been an atheist, which would mean that the immortal soul was a non-issue for him. I'm not an atheist; accordingly, for my parody of "Dune," I dictate that in a fantasy world the _real_ soul could be implanted in the clone. Sort of having it both ways, I've judged that Bunkem Isotope really is the original Bunkem Isotope revived, whereas Giles Magg _isn't_ one and the same as Duke Neato the Pure-Hearted and Generally Likeable. Giles merely has many of Neato's memories printed on his brain.

To remind you of some background, Neato and Jazzica had always been aware that a spell of pessimism overshadowed their parody of the Dune universe. When Groaner was born a few years after Paul was born, the Duke and his wife had decided that ONE child of theirs ought to be allowed to live untouched by the Frank Herbert curse. They had therefore hired the space-rogue Yondupe to take little Groaner to where he could be raised by good-hearted people who didn't even know about the Dune-based sub-reality. Young Paul had been hypnotized by Penny Jezebel mind-control to forget that Groaner had ever existed.

With Neato Ashtrayides gone, the acquaintance with Giles Magg was the only way Groan Starr could get acquainted with his father in mortal existence. As for that, the same thing applied to some extent with Trala-Lalia. Giles had obligingly been relating his memories of Neato's life in chronological order, while the others intermittently put in remarks or questions. Bunkem in particular had offered lively comments about having been rescued from slavery by a young and adventurous Neato.

When Giles appeared to have covered all the high points known to him, Vixen spoke up, addressing her Penny Jezebel mother-in-law. "Lady Jazzica, the Ashtrayides dynasty seems to have a secure hold on its rightful territories; and my husband feels no jealousy toward his nephew Stillneater for being the new Duke. But my native world of Directvideo, as long as both Groaner and my cousin Diskoduck are absent from that star system, is completely without any specially-powered protectors. Will anyone be offended if Groaner, Puke and I head back to Directvideo?"

"No offense is taken, dear," Jazzica assured her. "We are indeed well defended in our sector. As a matter of fact--"

Neato's widow paused, looking at her husband's Goulash clone. Giles took the cue. "Groan Starr, Vixen, Puke: having done my part in handling the Gumwad crisis, and having passed along my borrowed memories, I would be glad to _depart_ from the former territory of the Calamari dynasty. I cannot be rid of my longing for Jazzica, a feeling which isn't _even_ really my own feeling. It can stink being a Goulash. Let me start a new chapter for myself by working on Directvideo and Chimpanzia, where my work will actually BE my own work."

"We'll be thrilled to have you, Giles," Groan Starr answered. Puke seconded the sentiment: "Especially if you do plenty of your work on Chimpanzia. I aim to be there a lot of the time, so I can be around people who have normal body hair like me."

Eerilake exchanged a glance with Jazzica, then walked over close to Giles. "I'll go to the Directvidean System, too. You'll surely be glad to have a woman around who knows the sub-universe you were produced in. A woman for whom you don't have any conflicted, painful emotions..... yet."

Giles nodded. "Yes, I'm all for you coming with me to Vixen's native system. You know enough about me to be sure that, if anyone says I work fast, they're only talking about my _running_ speed."
 
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\\\\\ At Justified League headquarters on Urth, Martin "Atomic Scalp" Alpert received a welcome visitor: Pastor Obed Whippler of Iowa, who had been among the first non-metahumans to befriend Atomic Scalp after Scalp had been converted to goodness.

"Pastor, you must have been praying for me! The staff here has devised a neurological procedure to let me CONTROL my restored flame power and NOT burn any innocent people. My brain can't activate flame unless I first speak a triggering phrase, or alternately perform a specialized series of gestures. The gesturing option is kind of like doing the Macarena; it includes my hands touching the opposite armpits."

Obed gripped the ex-villain's hand. "For sure, I've prayed for you. Does the breakthrough allow you to keep a reasonably human face with SKIN on it?"

"Yeah, that too. It was one of those well-duh things: re-route the part of my respiratory system which is integral to my flame function."

"Meaning you can produce fire again, but it appears ELSEWHERE than around your head?"

"Ten-four, Pastor. It'll sound silly, but I'll take silly over scary-looking. You ready for this? I mentioned my armpits; well, THAT'S WHERE my flame will shoot out from!"

Obed's eyes widened. "No joke? Then does the flame shoot straight down on either side? I imagine this would let you fly for a short distance, but will it serve any other purpose?"

"Yes to the flying, albeit slowly. But I can make my flame shoot straight forward if I just lean backward a bit; get a modest upward angle if I lean back far enough. Shoot rearward if I lean forward. And shoot straight up if I lie on my back. This'll take some getting used to; but being around regular people, without being afraid I'll barbecue them, is worth some work at adapting my actions." The monster-turned-hero closed his eyes. "They think they can even grow a new nose on me before another month passes."

"I'll bet you don't realize how many fans you already have. Even just in Iowa. Everybody loves a redemptive story arc. In fact-- my turn to say 'Are you ready for this?' --I personally know more than thirty single women, age range from nineteen to forty-six, who say that you are absolutely adorable, even without having your nose back yet. While I think of it, what's your voice activation?"

"To activate by voice, I have to speak, in quick succession, the word 'fire' in three languages other than English."

Obed nodded. "You should have no difficulty preventing an unintended ignition. But under these conditions, you'd better get the switch-on done BEFORE a high-threat antagonist gets into striking range. And, hey, what if one of your hands is prevented from reaching to its opposite armpit, AND you lose your voice?"

"Good thinking; but remember that what counts is the brain activity inside me. If I just mouth my fire-words, and am thinking of their purpose when I move my mouth, my nervous system will still take this as the light-up signal."
 
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Three days after the above conversation happened, Justified League member Dmitri Leonidovich Tarasov, alias Tapper Cossack, arrived in Acapulco by a commercial flight. He was hoping to buy some souvenirs for his wife Aluminum Banshee, and to dive off the cliffs just to prove he could do it; but he was primarily here as a crime-fighting resource on loan to the local police, in case the recovering Super-Gang of Naughty Persons and its regular-gang allies decided to come here and rob wealthy tourists. It was a plus that, at a minimum, Dmitri possessed the strength of six men.

The practical benefit he enjoyed from hearing music was not a secret, but neither had many people worldwide been interested in learning such facts about a second- or third-tier superhero. Dmitri had to demonstrate the phenomenon inside a police training compound in order to be understood. When a recording of a mariachi band enabled the Russian metahuman to lift the front end of an old prisoner-transport van and heave the vehicle upside-down, the authorities concurred that, in the event of major aggression by super-villains, it would be helpful to keep stereo sets where their music would be audible at likely scenes of confrontation.

He also demonstrated his rifle marksmanship on a shooting range. This led the police to lend him a semi-automatic rifle, provided with non-lethal rubber bullets, which suited a Justified League member. They also gave him just one magazine of the real thing, clearly marked as such.

The Cossack furthermore explained to the authorities his gift of making other people want to dance when he danced. "I'll be very careful NEVER to dance in Acapulco, if the circumstances are such that crowds dancing would cause any trouble."

Within the hour, Charles Crazier passed along to Dmitri the latest information about known or suspected locations of major criminals. Dmitri, of course, shared all of this with the Mexican police. Professor Crazier added that there was a location where he COULDN'T read anything. The master telepath didn't know specifically that the blocking effect was the work of The Slippery Witch, but he realized that he and the S.P.A.M. were being thwarted by some powerful interference.

It was not Dmitri's assignment now to go out and hunt for the villains being masked by magic. Instead, he continued cultivating his acquaintance with the Acapulco law-enforcement community. At a headquarters dining table, a police sergeant surnamed Velasco, fluent in English, asked the Russian hero about the origin of his hero-name. "Is it simply about tap dancing?"

"On the English side, it is. My identifier with English speakers is a bilingual pun between tap dancing and a Russian proverb: 'Terpi, kazak, atamanom budyesh.' This means, 'Be patient, Cossack, and you'll get to be a chieftain.' Since it's the 'terpi' which means being patient, 'Tapper Cossack' may be taken to mean both a dancing Cossack and a patient Cossack."

"Gracias for the explanation. Me gusta that your hero-name is more subtle than 'Superman' or 'Gleaming Knight'."
 
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Howie Maui, the freelancing Splatlantean hero who could fly by surfing barefoot (his feet were very tough) on water molecules in the air, had been reconnoitering Mexico's Atlantic coast, looking for any sign of Sullivan Grungy having crossed Mexico from west to east. No sightings of Sullivan Grungy, but Howie found Nonwhite Lightning camping out.

"Lightning! Where's Antler-Guy?"

"Exohern is out fast-patrolling again; and Parakeet is establishing a command post, for interworking with the Mexican military. Are you seeking news or bringing it?"

"Seeking, I'm afraid. Squire Vindictive is with some federales, being a guest bad-cop at interrogations of gangsters."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Four Mexican counterparts of United States Marshals, at Squire Vindictive's request, removed the restraints from a heavily-tattooed 127-kilogram hit man who rejoiced in the nickname Tarantula Grande. He came from a relatively-small gang which had accepted assignments for the Jaguars, before that major gang had been absorbed by the Constrictors. Currently, the Aztec Madmen were in disarray, unsure whether to request admission to the ascendant gang.

As part of establishing dominance, Vindictive grasped the unbound prisoner by the neck and one leg, then hoisted him overhead as if he were weightless.

"Shall we have a productive discussion, or shall I begin breaking your bones in alphabetical order?"

"Might as well talk."

"Bueno. Tarantula, you have never been important enough to be noticed by the Justified League, but you know what the League is. The federales showed me your dossier; you have no dependents or friends whose safety would be an issue if you joined OUR outfit."

For the first time in the interview, the huge felon's face looked as if he might be capable of logical thought. "As an informant? I'm not afraid of dying, but I'm in no HURRY to die either."

"Not to worry, amigo. You won't even know that you're an informant. A friend of mine, up north of the border, will plant suggestions in your brain....."
 
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Currently present at the mountain hideout were La Bruja Resbalosa (Slippery Witch), the Chinese bad-girl metahuman Hand-Eye, sixteen "regular" male and female gang members, and Mirror Merchant who had just joined them hours ago. Chief Obsidian, Rattle-Sneak and another dozen ordinary crooks were scouting prospective locations for additional bolt-holes. The recently-revived Sullivan Grungy was digging an escape tunnel.

A gang girl named Alambra, who had become very friendly with Hand-Eye, asked, "Do you think we can create LONG-term hideouts which won't be uncovered by superheroes?"

Hand-Eye shrugged, then pointed at Mirror Merchant. "Given an hour's notice, he can transport all of us to another continent. This current refuge may serve its purpose well enough if we can use it to facilitate more networking in the short run."

Slippery Witch came toward the other two women, then linked arms with them in a comradely fashion. "I believe that Mirror Merchant intends to evacuate us all before this location is detected. Maybe to work with Crocodile Market in Southeast Asia for a while. If he gets us out of here, and lets it be KNOWN that we left Mexico altogether, we may be able to return here three or four months from now, and enjoy a much longer-term use of these digs afterwards."

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

Some of the non-super gangsters working with Obsidian and Rattle-sneak had the opportunity to look at the television set in a cantina. Thus they caught a special report, with video of a gory assault.

Tarantula Grande of the Aztecos Locos was being transferred, and the Anglo hero Squire Vindictive was in attendance, when the prisoner somehow produced an improvised knife, what convicts en el norte would call a shank-- and wounded the surprised crimefighter very badly. Then he took a guard hostage, to demand transportation. The viewers of course told the strong man and the speedster woman about it. The response of the super-villains was cheerful.... since they didn't know that Squire Vindictive was utterly indifferent to pain and was not easy to kill.

"Gathering up that man Tarantula would be worth our while," Chief Obsidian remarked to Rattle-Sneak.
 
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Mirror Merchant located Senor Tarantula, who had left his hostage tied up. The magic-user sent Chief Obsidian to make the pickup. Obsidian didn't NEED to wear his Aztec regalia all the time, as long as he had some obsidian with him; and he had no fanatical objection to carrying twin .45 caliber pistols instead of his maquihitl.

When he appeared in front of Tarantula Grande, Obsidian introduced himself by his birth name, Indio Rinaldo.

"You must have heard about the Constrictors absorbing the Jaguars. I also have joined the new cartel, and there's room for an hombre like you...."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Just in case they were being secretly observed, Obsidian led Tarantula to where an inconspicuous truck had been left on a roadside for their use. Instead of going where Slippery Witch and Rattle-Sneak were, they drove to the area where Sullivan Grungy was tunnelling. Tarantula had no objection to pitching in and assisting the Frankenstein-ish villain.

Grungy greeted Tarantula as cordially as he was capable of doing. "Good have help. Us need more supers, but you can help too."

Picking up a pneumatic drill that Grungy had pointed out to him, Tarantula said, "It's ______-ing bad luck that Stellar Sapphire, Atomic Scalp and Aluminum Banshee joined the fun-spoiling side."

"You right. Grungy always think Banshee most pretty. But maybe Mirror guy find other supers, not on Urth."

Mirror Merchant had been hoping to persuade the villains who had temporarily ruled Senphatori to come to Urth. He learned about the anti-villainy compulsion placed upon Block Atom, and learned that Circle-Slice had perished; but he still hoped to round up the trollish siblings Plasstar, Belchari, Danrufa and Eetbeenzar.
 
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IN THE MORE STAR WARS-IAN THAN SPACEBALLS-IAN SECTOR......

Bulky Tanya, the would-be queen of the Banjolorians, had her little squadron pretty well organized.

The interstellar freighter owned by Drilpret (a Fetlocker male, from a race resembling Sebulba in "Phantom Menace") bore a name/registry unpronounceable for any humanoid. It was carrying supplies of every sort for this expedition which sought to recover the Dimsaber. Mingling with the Fetlocker crew was the largest human in the expedition: the Banjolorian Lashrook, whose favorite weapon was a twin-cell rocket launcher.

The newest vessel in the mission, called the Expendable, was owned by a Banjolorian veteran called Frazmick Semtur, who had been employed on the planet Moxibox Two as a shooting instructor. Five of his trainees were joining the quest; of these only one, Muckluck by name, was a man. All four of his female classmates were better than he at hitting a stationary target far away, but he excelled all of them against moving targets. Those four women will be named later; three of the four were berthed elsewhere, in order to let persons of Tanya's choice fit on Expendable. These were the Sleave siblings, plus the two persons picked up on Planet Kummanokkin: Vin Gasleen and the single-footed hopper-dwarf Yovord.

Besides Tanya's own ship the Tantrum, Drilpret had acquired an old wreck very cheaply on Moxibox, because he and his Fetlocker engineers could repair it where the locals couldn't. It was christened the Junkpile. A Fetlocker female named Sipkrib assumed pilot duty; and in case of emergencies, Junkpile's controls could be linked to the big Fetlocker ship's navigation computer. Sharing space aboard Junkpile with Sipkrib were the other three Moxiboxan women, plus Tanya's man Curdle.

If I'm omitting any other Banjolorians, they must be on board the Tantrum.

Since there have to be lots of worlds in The Republic of Lots of Worlds, we're going to bring these characters to a planet never previously mentioned.

Let's call it Yakketyvin. It has NO DESERTS at all, and plenty of jungles and forests. We'll say it has no native sapients, nor any permanent colonies, but it is often visited by people with commercial interests. The planet has useful stuff like wood and minerals. The Republic has prevented Yakketyvin from being strip-mined, but allows some extraction of resources.
 
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Of the four ships in the expedition, Tantrum was the best equipped to defend itself against attack. It therefore stayed aloft on guard. Tanya's man Morose could pilot the ship, so she transferred to Drilpret's ship in order to see the surface of Yakketyvin. All three ships which were landing broadcast hails in assorted languages, with drones relaying the calls.

They were all in atmosphere when a reply came, also relayed via the drones. "Banjolorian squadron, this is Up-Side Adept Fizzra Teenybopper. I was told to expect you by the spirit of Nonsmoka Tiptoe. There is an artifact on this planet which will be of interest to you. Please follow my signal."

"We acknowledge," said Morose from the Tantrum. "Three of our four vessels are descending, while the fourth keeps station in orbit."

Tanya had never met Fizzra, but she had heard of him, and heard of his late mentor, Master Klayman. Although Banjolorians were not customarily FOND OF the Fuss users, Tanya was shrewd enough to realize that being on the good side of up-siders couldn't hurt her career. When the posse landed near Fizzra's camp, she made sure to be the first one to walk up to the lad.

"Good fortune to you, successor of Master Klayman. I am Bulky Tanya; and as you see, I am not among those Banjolorians who imagine they need to hide their faces. Please tell us: when you speak of 'the spirit' of Nonsmoka Tiptoe, do you mean she is deceased?"

Fizzra lowered his eyes. "Sadly, yes. I carry the grief of TWO noble masters' passing. Like my Master Klayman, Master Tiptoe died heroically defending others against evil. But her Fuss ghost came to me as I was travelling in space with the Burpgills. By her guidance, I had my current mount let me off on this planet. And..... I located the artifact."

Of the four young Moxiboxan women, one who had not been riding along with Muckluck was alongside Tanya. Her name was Peeluva, and she had enough self-discipline to conceal the fact that she instantly found Fizzra overwhelmingly attractive. If he sensed her visceral reaction to his good looks, he did not mention it. Peeluva, to her credit, got to business, asking him the obvious question: "What sort of artifact?"

"This is it," the youth replied, showing them a multi-faceted object the size of a grapefruit. "It's called the Harmonicron. Its function is to locate persons who have assimilated The Fuss WITHOUT formal instruction."

Tanya gave the artifact a closer look. "The value of this artifact for you quasi-wizards is obvious. But how is it important to us non-Fussers?"

"It represents an opportunity for you to generate good will. We up-siders have lately had cause to operate outside our usual jurisdiction: for instance, in the Doldarump System, where Master Nonsmoka herself died battling evildoers whose ranks included beings from the sub-reality based on 'Babylon Five.' Right now, you have the chance to operate outside of YOUR usual interests. If you take the Harmonicron, it can lead you to where the newest Fuss users can be found."

"Will this enable our leader to recover the Dimsaber?" asked Peeluva.

"Not directly," Fizzra admitted. "But if you do us the favor of putting our fellowship in touch with the new adepts-- their names, by the way, are Trace Dickey and Oliver Hackman-- all of us up-siders will support your claim to become the ruler of all Banjolorians, provided you don't join the side of evil."

"Bulky Tanya will never be evil!" insisted Peeluva.

"Then let us merely say that we offer positive reinforcement for her to REMAIN as virtuous and wonderful as she is."
 
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The projected image of Master Yoga-Rug (remember, he's alive, not a Fuss ghost, but he can project his likeness the way Artifact Keeper Drool does in the Bubblewrap Five reality) joined the conversation.

"Friends, allow me to bring you up to speed on something. The Janitors of the Universe, who are kindred spirits to us up-siders, have already before now collaborated with Fuss users against evil. They know about Oliver Hackman on Mediumgard Earth, and about Trace Dickey on Jersey Earth. I hear from the Janitors that Jersey Earth is better disposed right now to receive new off-world visitors than Mediumgard Earth is, because Mediumgard still is tying up the loose ends after a global disruption of society. They don't need more outside help on this, but later works better to introduce you to them. Lord Katmatao, leader of the Janitors, has the means to transfer your ships to the galactic sector which contains Jersey Earth, and he'll see to it that you're able to communicate."

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

On Jersey Earth, in the capital of THE STATE OF New Jersey, the communication center of the state police received a communication which would have been astonishing seven months ago. But now, just the fact that the newcomers were human, as opposed to a huge diversity of races, made Bulky Tanya's hailing transmission seem almost ordinary.

"My name is Bulky Tanya, and I represent a branch of humanity in which the kind of power acquired by Commandant Trace Dickey is well known. I also have some knowledge about the Green Flashlight Corps, which is represented on your Earth-variant by John Stewmeat and Tong Sao-Tu. Because you have less acquaintance with The Fuss than with the artifact-based powers of Green Flashlights and Heart Sapphires, a top Fuss master has asked me to meet with lawful authorities on your planet, and outline for you the general history of my type of civilization."

A woman on the surface replied: "Bulky Tanya, my name is Sharon Rockwell. I'm an associate of Trace Dickey, his wife Bess, their friend John Stewmeat whom you mention, and John's wife Nolarivu. This means that I personally know almost all specially-powered people on this Earth. And I am one myself."

"As a Fuss user?" Tanya asked.

"I'm still not entirely certain, because my powers aren't the same as Commandant Dickey's powers. But since my speed and my fire-suppression ability don't rely on any artifact, it seems more likely that they are Fuss-derived. Trace, please take over."

"This is Trace Dickey. I am a regional commander of law enforcement, and a recently-empowered Fuss adept. If you had come sooner, I would be unable to recommend our world's United Nations as a platform for you to teach what you desire to teach. But we finally got rid of a parasite named Mike Trippleface who was in charge there. Now the Secretary-General is a French military veteran called Gustave Armandine, who was among those who tried to reduce the harm done by the Heart Sapphires. Gustave will render you every cooperation."
 
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Four days later, in this Earth's New York City, the U.N. General Assembly showed the best attendance since before Joza-Varu-Paf and the other Heart Sapphires had arrived and started confusing and misleading people. Reporters from numerous countries were on the job, though about half of them still needed to WRITE notes by hand, because Jersey Earth's electronic infrastructure still was not fully recovered.

"There are new players in the game," declared Secretary-General Armandine. "They could scarcely be worse than the first wave-- the aliens whom I saw in France, urging teenagers to try suicidal stunts on motorcycles. But the second wave restored our hope that exceptional power could be accompanied by sanity. This third wave is almost all human-- though I am intrigued by the Fetlockers who seem to walk on their hands. The first wave severely disrupted our planet's infrastructure, because of which the second wave had to concentrate on repairing the damage. Now, the third wave is here to help us improve our understanding of the universe around us.

"I accordingly introduce you to the new delegation's leader, who is human, but who is no stranger to inter-species diplomacy. She also already knows who the Green Flashlights and Heart Sapphires are. Captain Bulky Tanya, please take the podium."

Tanya stepped up, then temporarily donned her Banjolorian helmet.

"Thank you for welcoming me and my shipmates here. The helmet you see is emblematic of the fellowship to which I belong: a martial fellowship whose leadership I aspire to attain. We are called the Banjolorians, in honor of the Earth-like planet where we first formed our culture. We have long been exclusively human, but we don't rule out non-humans joining, provided they are native to an oxygen-and-liquid-water environment. Over the recent centuries, hardship has compelled many of us to take mercenary service in wars; but we do not endorse wanton murder." At this point, she removed her helmet and continued.

"Your own Trace Dickey is able to catch me if I were to tell you a lie. So I will tell you truthfully that I do have a self-serving motive in coming here. But it is also true that nothing I seek for myself will do your world any harm, nor do any harm to the worlds from which help came to you during the troubles created by the Sapphire Sisterhood. I am doing what you would call campaigning for an office. My performance in this diplomatic visit will powerfully affect my hopes of being chosen as the leader of Banjolorians."

She paused, and looked Trace directly in the eye across a forty-foot distance. The veteran detective and novice Jedi-counterpart summoned The Fuss, to leap over the intervening space and land beside Tanya. Gesturing to the microphone stand, he stepped up to it when Tanya gave place.

"A significant number of you already know what my new powers are, but I don't think Miss Tanya knows. This will make my assurance measure meaningful. Miss Tanya, I command you right now to confess if you have knowingly spoken any falsehood to the people of my Earth at any time since you made contact."

Tanya was visibly shaken by feeling Trace's power; but having a clear conscience where Jersey Earth was concerned helped her to keep her composure. "I reply truthfully that I have not intentionally deceived or misled anyone in connection with my mission here, nor do I intend to deceive anyone."

Trace nodded. "And I know your answer to be true. Thank you, Miss Tanya;" and he Fuss-jumped back to his seat.

"Actually, Commandant, I thank you for giving me credibility with your people."
 
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Since there was a break in continuity anyway, Tanya invited her Fetlocker friend Drilpret up to speak. (Whatever ensured that Tanya could be understood, was doing as much for the alien merchant captain.) Drilpret explained a little about his own spacefaring civilization, mentioning that they enjoyed Senatorial representation in the Republic of Lots of Worlds. He also related instances of Banjolorians being hired to protect Fetlocker commercial interests, and praised their faithfulness to any commitment they accepted.

Speaking as a Green Flashlight, John Stewmeat affirmed that the Flashlight Corps knew of the existence of the Fetlocker people, though John himself had never met any of them before today. John, however, had never seen even a picture of a Kummanokkinite before meeting Yovord.

When Bulky Tanya reclaimed the podium, she began to describe, in a sketchy way, the types of weapons used by the Republic of Lots of Worlds, and by the Empire of Evil Badness. This led to Secretary-General Armandine politely interjecting:

"I hope that your people understand the metaphor of a two-edged sword. Now that we Earthlings-- we Earthlings of this Earth-- understand just what a plethora of advanced alien races exist in the universe, all of us understandably would feel better if we possessed some of your futuristic technology-- futuristic to us, anyway. The next offworld visitors after you might be far more belligerent than the Heart Sapphires were when they meddled here. But at the same time, if your technology did become available here, each of our nations might be afraid that other nations were upgrading faster. Each might fear being attacked by another. And please don't say, 'Well, then, just abolish separate nations and have one government for the entire planet.' Every Earth-variant I know of has experienced somebody saying, 'Sure, we can all be united under one government..... but this global administration has to operate by my rules'."

Tanya sighed. "If it helps, I can tell you truthfully that the late unlamented Emperor Porkanbeen took the same attitude. But no recognized clan of the Banjolorians ever accepted him as a legitimate head of state.

"Now let me direct your attention to persons already well known to you. Bess Dickey, Jon Stewmeat and Nolarivu Pamizo-Stewmeat. As far as I know, none of them, any more than Commandant Dickey, has ever consented to help any Earthly nation commit unprovoked aggression against another." She glanced at the Frenchman.

"Indeed they have not," Gustave Armandine confirmed. "For that matter, while non-humanoid Green Flashlights like Twishdok, Jamsorvad and Poradsimu were working to help us restore order, they picked no quarrels with anyone."

"Thank you, Secretary-General. Just as Green Flashlights-- and any Heart Sapphire NOT misguided by certain unhealthy influences-- know how to be conciliatory and encourage friendliness, the same can be said for the Up-Side Fellowship of the Fuss. Individual Fuss adepts do not have such great power over the material environment as the artifact-powered people enjoy; but users of the Fuss are superior at understanding and influencing the personalities of sapient beings. I can address this topic with impartiality, since my followers and I lack any Fuss talent. I firmly believe that, before any major military advances are shared with any nation of this planet, it would be beneficial for you to have some up-siders mingling with you. Their being completely independent from the Flashlights and the Sapphires would be, hmmm, like getting a second opinion for health care."

Vin Gasleen stood up in his ninth-row seat, waving for attention like a schoolboy. When a microphone was brought to him, he said, "I'm not Fuss-talented, but I have worked with up-siders, including the famous Only-One Kanoli. All of them learn diplomacy."
 
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The General Assembly was left to discuss the many options for cooperating with a new set of offworlders. Past visitors like the Exquisite She-Hunk had made a good enough impression, that now there were hardly any delegates opposed to accepting new alien visitors.

Trace Dickey could never forget his long career as a felony-squad detective. He had sympathetically interviewed crime victims and witnesses as often as he had grilled suspects. Now it came naturally for him to pose totally friendly questions to the Banjolorians, and even to the Fetlockers plus Vin Gasleen's pal Yovord. Descriptions of guarded caravans on the arid planet of the single-footers appealed to the old beat cop inside Trace. Bess Dickey, sitting in, was first to suggest that Vin and the Kummanokkinite hopper-dwarf might like to inspect armored cars and other human anti-robbery resources.

Two other prestigious law-enforcement veterans arrived from two midwestern states, both police chiefs for large cities. Marvin Taylor was from Chicago, and Jorge Feliciano was from Milwaukee. Broadcast media on Jersey Earth were sufficiently recovered that both Marvin and Jorge had seen imagery of both non-human species represented in the newest galactic visit. The two chiefs opted first to be introduced to Yovord, since he was displaying interest in crimefighting on his own account. Also, since the two men both lived and worked near Lake Michigan, they were curious to know, in contrast, how the Kummanokkinites dealt with shortages of water.

After an hour and a half of questions and answers, the three sapients decided it was time for supper. The people of Kummanokkin had long since confirmed that they could digest the same foods humans could digest; so they want to Paloma's Cafe, the first pizza joint within four miles of the United Nations to have recovered after the economic collapse caused by the Heart Sapphires.

They were almost finished eating when they had a visitor.

I told you that my version of Ahsoka Tano, though slain in battle, would be back as a Fuss ghost.

"May the Fuss be with you, my still-mortal friends! My name is Nonsmoka Tiptoe, and I'm visiting back from the afterlife. Rest assured, Muddy-Drip and Grainy are doing well-- never mind, that's a different story arc. Let me stipulate right away that apparitions of this nature are not in the normal order of things on Original Earth, but the Creator permits more bending of the rules in story-derived worlds."

"So I understand," replied Yovord, much less astonished than the humans in the restaurant.

"Then you died? Unlike Yoga-Rug?" asked Jorge Feliciano.

"That's right, I was granted a noble death, protecting the helpless. Yoga-Rug still is in his material body. The Creator has assigned me to tell you two human men that YOU are about to become Fuss users."

"With no training?" said Marvin Taylor. "I understand that none of the Banjolorians can help us there."

"I can tell you some of the essential points while I'm still manifesting," said the ascended Tugboata woman. "And Trace Dickey will be able to give advice also."

Jorge narrowed his eyes. "Will we be able to compel people to obey us?"

"No. But each of you will have his own unique specialty....."
 
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BACK TO THE "BLAKE'S SEVEN" PARODY:

In the space of the corrupted Cosmic Federation, Green Flashlight Parbellik Magta and his Dahudoran Heart Sapphire wife Luvardra had been joined by two more Green Flashlights: the recent human recruit from Jersey Earth named Tong Sao-Tu, and the baboon-like male named Jamsorvad who had spent time on that same Earth-variant. These four had been looking for clues to the cause of the mystery attack which had ruined the intellect of most male humans in the Federation. Some local men, who by various causes had escaped being idiotized, had been assisting the newcomers. One of these was a spaceship technician called Thrim Deldatch. (Jamsorvad had remained inconspicuous.)

Signs had turned up that the attack on men had been an inside job. Accordingly, the good guys had seen cause to play a trick of their own. The Magtas and Mister Tong had purposely made a show of shuttling openly between star systems, keeping Stellar Coordinator Vernacula Scurvylaff informed of all their movements. Braskorim the Ziblamot, who had been with them for almost their whole time in the Federation, had stayed with them for much of this period, reinforcing the appearance that the Magtas DIDN'T suspect any false flags. Meanwhile, however, other friends of the Magtas, including Wibgug-Bifyok the blobby Shmeehobber, had achieved communication with Planet Spacebull-- because, after all, this entire serial DID begin with the Spacebullies.

To complicate matters further, some sort of evil super-aliens committed a violent crime which got blamed on the Green Flashlight Corps: blowing up the spaceship Skytwirl. Among the murder victims was a decent guy named Todd Milspek. After this, The Magtas and their Flashlight friend were obliged to lie low, leaving others to keep taking care of business.

Planet Spacebull now being controlled by the side of good, its government was glad to assist the good guys in the Probably-Andromeda-Galaxy. A ship called the Conciliator, commanded by a certain Rip Tellus, had used the Red Streak Wormhole to reach an area not far outside the Cosmic Federation. They brought along something I swiped from the Mel Brooks movie: a device intended to find out what had happened in past situations.

The rendezvous with Conciliator was kept as inconspicuous as possible. A small second-rate ship named Ramblecart set out to meet the Spacebullion ship, with four persons on board. One was the human cyborg Chutnykorn, whose neural enhancements had preserved his mind and personality when the mystery attack struck. Wibgug-Bifyok the blobby Shmeehobber was there too. Completing the quartet were two human women: Royurbota Quardimo, Lodge Flake's true love, and her much-traveled pal Divarsha Mezzomorf.

They made rendezvous successfully with Commodore Tellus, and began using the retroactive time-stream insertion sampler. To work well, the device needed someone to be present who had a connection with past events to be studied. Royurbota was the second cousin and fiancee of the long-missing hero Lodge Flake, so her participation had ensured plenty of discoveries.....
 
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