Spacebullies Two: The Search For More Parody

[Copperfox]

We're fairly well caught up with the Spacewalker family now. Next, I think we'll fill in more back story for my "Heyho" subplot. Until that's done, we can't let Zubdookree's party meet the Master Champ, LET ALONE go to work on a way to do the Pinocchio thing for Cortexa's benefit.

One of my principal departures from Halo game-lore is that I _don't_ go along with human history reaching back for zillions of skillions of centuries. Where the canonical game premise places the "Forerunners" way-way long ago, and the "Precursors" even _more_ way-way long ago, my parody shows the "Introductories" still existing in story-present time, with the older "Preliminaries" gone but a relatively-recent memory. Since I began writing "Spacebullies," I have loosely maintained that fictional societies given real existence would have a beginning, with a made-up history which leads right into the experience of the characters.

When I decided to hijack the Halo game into my Never-Stopping Story, I grabbed the opportunity to depict the creation of story-worlds from the inside. The Fuss up-sider Zubdookree and her companions (Lodratrid, Karbeena, Raquel and Jacob) landed on a planet within my version of the Halo cosmos. They met game-derived people who all _believed_ themselves to have lived from infancy to adulthood, but who actually had only existed a short while. My Babylon Five- and Star Wars- derived characters began to meet persons belonging to the United Civilizations; but soon I made my backward jump.

Thus, more than half of what I've written so far in the "Heyho" plotline is part of the "fake past." Some of this roughly echoes the career of the canonical character "Noble Six." But I also established that heroes dying _before_ it all becomes "true" (such as the starship A/I named Sarcasta) will find themselves coming to exist for real in Aslan's Country.

The game lore includes human insurrectionists stupidly imagining they can get a better deal from The Covenant. My latest "Heyho" episodes involved overthrowing suchlike traitors on a planet called Mororlessa. We fingind ourselves now joining the crew of October Fencepost, who are following up on the Mororlessan crisis.

Engineering personnel of the lately-arrived United Civilizations battleship had their hands full restoring the older and smaller ship Spurting Flame to full spaceworthiness. So the bigger ship's captain had ruled that any research work on board the Fencepost would focus on the biological side of data-digging. The male-presenting A/I named Flyboy, looking like an Allied aviator in World War Two, was analyzing genetic and biochemical information provided by surrendered aliens. Of the uniformly cooperative prisoners, the most useful in the life-science component was a female of the lumpish, lumbering Bonkalub race. Like most of her species, Sibrapdaliff was highly talented in sciences both applied and theoretical, but virtually worthless for close-range combat. Unless it were against other Bonkalubs-- which, when it occurred, resembled the collisions of human sumo wrestlers, only slower.

The Bonkalub race turned out to have its own version of the saying, "The Devil is in the details." Flyboy conversed at length with Sibrapdaliff about Bonkalub metabolism and biochemistry, routing this information to a data folder which would go to the attention of the battleship's medical department. Reverse engineering could proceed from a flesh-and-blood starting point: if a spacegoing race had such-and-such environmental requirements, this would mandate such-and-such interior features in ship design. If knowing a space crew's requirements, an intel analyst could project how many crewmembers a given hull size would support.

Meanwhile, the ginger-looking girlish A/I called Whistlebell was planetside on Mororlessa. The on-site project leader, who carried the emitter from which Whistlebell operated, was October Fencepost's only crewmember from the human-like race called Plethmors; his name was Corbacuspen, and human women on Mororlessa found him dashingly handsome. Unattached Mororlessan ladies living close to where Corbacuspen was working needed no urging to bring items of Introductory machinery and electronics to his outdoor workshop. Whistlebell's personality design was just mischievous enough to make her pretend to be jealous of local women "trying to steal" her Plethmor gentleman. Non-humanoid aliens playing any part in this business had to have it explained to them that Whistlebell was joking.

Nothing about the Introductory culture showed any appreciation for humor. The least jolly of all personnel from Fencepost, a proto- Crackshot sergeant called Necksplitter-4 who was head of the ground security detail, seemed like everyone else's clownish uncle compared to the aliens interacting with Corbacuspen. This is not to say that the aliens weren't grateful for the kindness shown by their captors; but the whole previous experience of these aliens made sincere benevolence incomprehensible to them.

Corbacuspen, and Sergeant Necksplitter at intervals, did similar puzzle-assembling to what Flyboy was doing up in orbit. Machines of any sort, if used by Introductory races, would point to other technical solutions. Everything they learned or speculated went into secure storage.

NOTE: These events are occurring AFTER a time interval big enough to let Carolyn Fallacy return from her excursion on October Fencepost which yielded corpses of non-human "Splash" victims. Tissue samples from the infected Introductory corpses would be compared with samples from beings of the same races who had been slain in more conventional ways.

 

[Copperfox]

Continuing the "pre-reality" story action, I remind you that I have a counterpart of Planet Reach from the Halo game. Showing "Planet Stretch" after my "Heyho" sub-reality gains material substance, I showed Stretch having recently been reclaimed by the United Civilizations after some years of being controlled by my version of The Covenant. It remains for me to write how I envision "The Congregation" supplanting "The Introductories."

That stage in the narrative, as readers have seen, also had mankind possessing some knowledge of how the Heyho Rings operated. DEFINITELY NOT sterilizing a whole galaxy from all biological life. Copperfox firmly rejects the diminishing- returns trap the Doctor Who series allowed itself to fall into, where no menace can be taken seriously unless it's going to KILL THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!!

Anyway, the following picks right up from the part about Corbacuspen and others collecting information. Johnny-747 has not yet become a new-breed Crackshot, and his leading lady does not yet exist. I will attempt here to address the distinction between "soldiers" and "marines." The Galactic ARMY is dedicated to fighting ON planetary surfaces; for them, being aboard spaceships is only incidental. For Galactic MARINES, boarding enemy ships, or defending their own ships against hostile boarders, is a very large part of their wheelhouse.

The recently-built United Civilizations cruiser Sideways Unto Sunrise was enroute from Stretch to Mororlessa. Its most important passenger was Lieutenant Colonel Teflon Growler, commander of the most prestigious of human marine battalions, the Black Bayonets. As a major, in the first weeks after the Introductories picked a fight with humanity and human-friendly races, Growler had repeatedly done to these aggressors what James Doolittle did to the Japanese in World War Two: hitting them in places where they thought they were safe, putting them in doubt of their invincibility. The vitally-important successes of the Black Bayonets had not only gained time for the United Civilizations to get their momentum going, but had also inspired the life-sciences community to brainstorm how this kind of rapid-strike surface force could be rendered even more effective by metahuman enhancement of new space marines.

The Crackshot program was not going to have a thousand counterparts of Captain America ready for battle in a week or a month. Accordingly, Colonel Growler was riding on the Sideways Unto Sunrise to find out whether the activity on Mororlessa would produce any immediate advantage for the EXISTING special forces.

When the duty officer on board October Fencepost notified Carolyn Fallacy that Lieutenant- Colonel Growler was entering the star system, she asked Necksplitter-4 and other suitable persons to meet and assist the Lieut-Colonel. She wanted to avoid making Teflon Growler think that any organic improvements would be offered to the Black Bayonets. Let Growler be allowed to inspect captured enemy hardware till the cows came home; he must be prevented even from guessing what profound BIOLOGICAL improvements would be added to the foundation which had been laid by the first-generation Crackshots.

As a corollary, Stone Wolf must be kept out of the Black Bayonets, though his Tuning Fork of Death could and should be duplicated and offered to those elite Space Marines. Hostile powers must not be permitted to anticipate the smackdown they were going to receive; and Stone Wolf needed to stay out of public media, so he could train the game-changing Crackshot Twos without being spied upon.

Keeping Stone Wolf away from the elite Marines was natural and unforced: he was made the head of the shipboard men-at-arms force on the armed troop carrier Little Round Top, commanded by Lieutenant Buford Chamberlain Daniels. This vessel, its defense bolstered by a complement of four Claymore space fighters, bore Dr. Fallacy (who had become an old hand at commuting from world to world) to an orbital research-and-administrative platform above Planet Stretch. There were science personnel there who knew about the concept for advanced Crackshots. One of these was an Efrachiktu (they're the ones like giant squirrels) named Quidproko.

"Welcome back, Carolyn. We've been hunting for prospects as you ordered. But are you certain that you want to pursue the secret-cloning strategy to cover our tracks?"

Stone Wolf looked uneasy. Quidproko, who knew the "hole card" soldier by reputation, told him, "Be at ease, friend, you've already been given security clearance for this, because as an instructor you WILL need to know. Carolyn, please continue."

Wolf's eyes turned toward Dr. Fallacy, so she resumed:

"The essentials of the plan will be the same, but I'm going to make it a little more ethically digestible. It's really a well-duh. If an age-matched single-source is good enough to leave with unsuspecting parents and the parents wouldn't know the difference, then we could JUST KEEP the clone for our use, and the parents WOULD still have their actual child."

"That may be a hair-splitting distinction," said Quidproko, "but I do feel better this way. The children left in their homes WILL be the ones with genuine memories of their parents, and the memories planted in the clones would be less of a lie."

Stone Wolf interjected, "From what I'm hearing, the environment the clones grow up in will be subtly more comfortable if all the adults around them aren't anxiously tiptoeing around a dreadful secret."

"Then it follows naturally to change their names. That boy with the homely-cute hound-dog face--" (her eyes met Quidproko's eyes) "--the particularly smart one tagged Seven-Four-Seven, doesn't really look like a Waldo. To me, he looks like a champion in the making. I'm going to call him Johnny."

 

[Copperfox]

FOUR YEARS LATER, on Planet Stretch which was a major military nexus, we find Johnny-747 a little short of age eight, physically as strong as an active adult man, able to scale a three-story ladder in five seconds, able to swim three kilometers with ease, intellectually doing well in geometry and trigonometry, able to speak four languages, and able to handle firearms proficiently.

"Next exercise!" Instructor Wolf declared to Johnny-747 and seven other Crackshot children. "You see this shallow pond behind me? It's full of glass marbles drenched in lubricant oil. Your task is to cross it-- standing or crawling is up to you, but speed of crossing counts-- ring the bell on the other side; pick up one of the stones lying near the bell-post; then run full-sprint, WHILE HOLDING YOUR BREATH, two and a half times around the pond, and drop your stone where you started. If you lose hold of your stone before completing the run, you will be granted one minute's rest before you repeat the exercise. Are there any questions?"

Two of the eight recruits present were girls. The taller and more confident of these, named Shunyun-293, said, "Sir! Are we to help each other complete the task, or ignore each other, or try to interfere with each other?"

"An excellent analytical question. The answer is the second alternative, each for yourself. Next week we'll stage a more complicated version of this task, and on that one you'll help each other."

When the described exercise proceeded, Johnny-747 was the first to finish the mission. Four seconds behind him came the other female in the group, a relatively stocky girl named Roberta-93. (The numbers in their soldier-names having three digits or only two digits was completely arbitrary, reflecting a spirit of randomization with indicators.)

* * * * * * * * * *

Around this time, several light-decades away, a conversation useful for plot exposition took place. The scene was an interstellar anchorage known to Introductory officials as The Space Wharf of Glorious Achievements. An elderly female Sankasselum commanded the depot, under the job title of Diligent Facilitator of Galactic Traffic. Visiting her office was a male Bonkalub, known professionally as the Tireless Reviewer of Critical Shipments. Throughout their meeting, his long neck and her even-longer neck bobbed and swayed all over
the place.

Diligent Facilitator began: "Tireless Reviewer, have you interviewed the captain of the Industrious Falgaroob?" (On one of the major Introductory planets, there was a bird-like creature called "falgaroob.")

"Yes, Diligent Facilitator. He confirms that all needed components have been delivered to the three Heyho Rings on his circuit."

"Did any of the Heyho site administrators have news of The Splash?"

Tireless Reviewer's neck changed its direction of bobbing to rapid vertical motion, which in his race expressed optimism. "Yes, Diligent Facilitator, all three Heyho sites are doing well in collaboration with each other and still other sites."

"Of course, you refer to the special configuration by which Heyho Rings can wipe out masses of infective beings."

"Exactly so. I refer to the process by which pairs of Rings reach through hyperspace to trap swarms of the Splash between them, and exterminate them completely. And this very thing is proceeding most efficiently."

Diligent Facilitator inflated all four of her lungs with a long breath. "Good so far. What news is there of the multi-species movement which now claims to inherit the spiritual mantle of The Preliminaries?"

"You refer to 'The Congregation,' which is claiming the credit for every success achieved against The Splash. They derive some prestige from the fact that all races represented among us Introductories hold positions of importance in their hierarchy. To anticipate a likely question, I am not aware of any attempt by Congregation agents to undermine the management at the Heyho sites on my circuit."

 

[Copperfox]

Around this time, the U.C. Galactic Navy dispatched a swift armed troop carrier, the Starborne Fist, to a star system not mentioned before in the story. On board was a 133-person company of Space Marines, led by a Captain Gustaf Everett. These interstellar warriors, though a bit less famous than the Black Bayonets, had the same function.

Remote surveillance had observed that Introductory shipping in and out of the Kloguth System had been interrupted. Everett's Endrunners were tasked with scouting Kloguth Four, and a special trick had been devised to achieve the insertion. Weeks ago, an Introductory transport ship had been discovered adrift. Splash-beings had consumed the Introductory crew, then starved to death. Now the death ship was sent coasting into the Kloguth System..... and once patrol craft from the target planet flew out to investigate, Starborne Fist sneaked in from a different direction.

Releasing the landing craft, the troop carrier destroyed four orbital platforms with missiles. This move bought vital minutes for the Endrunners to make descent. Captain Everett led First Platoon to attack a guard barracks full of Juggernasties; his second, Lieutenant Yung Po-Chao, headed for what looked like an administration building. Live prisoners were the goal here. Each of the landing craft brought a Roadhog, but both of these fighting vehicles went with Captain Everett, since his group needed to do most of the killing. Those who couldn't fit into the combat-cars, advanced behind them. Good thing: the anti-energy-weapon shields, before failing by overload, neutralized enough burning plasma to have killed the whole platoon three times. As it was, only three Endrunners died before the Marines were in among their foes. From there the majority of deaths were on the bad-guy side, even though most of these were hardened Skankbellies.

The administrators captured by Second Platoon were mostly Bonkalubs and Mipstipters. For their benefit, Lieutenant Yung was carrying the emitter of an artificial intelligence designed to look like a Sankasselum. This hologram demanded that records of starship activity be handed over. The apparent chief bureaucrat, a female Bonkalub, said what the A/I interpreted as follows:

"The Introductories have failed to honor the legacy of the ancient Preliminaries! We serve the sacred and infallible Congregation! And in proof of our piety, we will deny you blasphemers access to any information which might help you to defile the Heyho Rings!"

The administrators possessed some kind of suicide protocol; all of them fell dead within seconds. But at least now it was proven that the war was indeed three-cornered.

* * * * * * * * * *

We now time-jump ahead to rejoin Ickylinn of Alwaysurnia and Tyrone Glass Neilsen of the Human Federation. I remind you that "regular
present time" for the story is now at a point weeks after the Master Champ and that whole cast of characters began existing. Preceding posts, about the Endrunners and so on, are all part of the virtual background history which characters like Master Champ SEEM to remember as part of their own experience. Jacob, Raquel, Snack, Noherra, Karbeena, Lodratrid and Karbeena are already mingling in real time with denizens of the Halo-derived sub-reality.

But for now, our narrative eyes are on the egotistical evil couple, who imagine themselves to be brilliant, but who are simply acting as agents of Hopecrusher Central. They believed themselves to be controlling the story, with an endgame of making the Halo parody be as pessimistic and gloomy as Frank Herbert eagerly made his Dune series; but in fact they could only inject as much tragedy and misery here as they were allowed to inject.

"Still some descriptive confusion," Tyrone muttered. "I see a couple of places where the brilliant scientist's first name is given as Charlotte, instead of Carolyn. And even though I come from a civilization with its own starships, I'm unclear where this United Civilizations draws the distinctions between frigates, destroyers, cruisers and battleships."

"Darling, does that even matter? Isn't it our true business to address the nature of life? Aren't we supposed to be taking spiritual hope away from people?" As she had been doing all along, the witchy enemy of Mighty Male was trying not to acknowledge that she and her lover WEREN'T controlling everything that happened in the new Halo-derived sub-reality.

"The issue, beautiful, is that when we take away spiritual hope, we want to OFFER something in its place. We want people to settle for less, but the 'less' needs to APPEAR AS IF it has value. We want them to accept a meaningless universe, yet to feel satisfaction with how deeply they understand the meaningless universe. Therefore, we want factual details to be sharp-edged and unmistakable."

"While right and wrong become ambiguous."

"Right, gorgeous. So help me to keep expository details clear, while noble ideals dissolve."

 

[Copperfox]

In the hollow-earth-ish world of Bazookadar, located inside Planet Freesoil, King Trampelfar and Queen Frazetta of Rugdamont were still entertaining the visiting heroes from outside. Green Flashlights Tiptikditpip and Bill Redvest, Bill's shape-changing wife Versaderma, the mighty swordsman John Cardsharper, and his Fuss-powered wife Lylah.

On Freesoil's exterior, Earl Pufferton from Federal Earth had been telepathically following the progress of the explorers; but he was failing to anticipate that the telepathic Wingdingers inside Bazookadar might DETECT HIM.

Problem is, villains aren't necessarily stupid. At a considerable distance both from Rugdamont and from the outside heroes' entry point, there was a Wingdinger king named Zegbobo. His mind was powerful enough that he not only held control over a great number of Slambangani, he had some of the really big dinosauroids at his command. What's more, Zegbobo periodically scanned other parts of Bazookadar for signs of any events which could affect his own kingdom.

By this means, he became aware that Bazookadar was not the whole universe, because aliens had entered from outside. Any of the strongest- minded Wingdingers probably could have detected the existence of sapient beings in a direction they would perceive as "underground;" but it just hadn't occurred to them. Unquestioned presuppositions can be quite an obstacle to knowledge. Zegbobo, however, was helped along by the discovery that OUTSIDE creatures did exist. It says something for Zegbobo's strength of personality that he was not floored by the discovery. Staying on task, he ascertained that outside beings had in particular begun assisting the Rugdamonter humans to remain free.

And speaking of presuppositions: Earl Pufferton had long been complacent in the belief that no one could invade HIS mind.

Abner Littleton, one of the leading human Freesoilers, was walking past Earl when he heard Earl mumbling what sounded like, "Yes, master, I obey." But Abner shared Earl's mistaken opinion that no outside intrusion could ever seize control of Earl's brain; so Abner assumed he had just heard incorrectly. While Abner carried on with the daily business of the camp, Zegbobo absorbed from Earl a basic understanding of what the outside universe was. Again, the Wingdinger king demonstrated a strength of spirit which would have been glorious in a good guy. Instead of being as overwhelmed as a flat-earther would be upon learning that the world was round, Zegbobo instantly took the practical step of combining Earl's telepathic power with his own.

Of the exploratory team inside Bazookadar, only John Cardsharper strictly speaking was a telepath (still much better at receiving than at sending), but his Fuss-powered ex-pirate wife Lylah Doxxum Cardsharper had every up-sider's ability to pick up SOME of what other people were thinking. "Lylah! Did you just get a sense of our link with Earl being disrupted?"

"Yes, I did! And I sense that strong evil is involved." Lylah turned to Tiptikditpip. "Listen, Earl on the surface is being tampered with by some enemy down here. Only John is completely immune to psionic attack; our friends topside will be defenseless if the enemy works through Earl to control them. You need to transport John back to the surface camp; hurry, lives may depend on haste! The rest of us will hunt for this unseen Bazookadaran adversary."

As the swordsman and the insectoid hero flew back toward their entrance tunnel, Versaderma told her other comrades: "Although I can't block telepathy, I can CONFUSE a mind-reader by rapidly changing shape. Even a very smart psychic will be put off balance if he's reading a dog's mind, then a turtle's mind, then a crow's mind, then a salmon's mind, and so on."

 

[Copperfox]

Before anyone else at the top-of-shaft camp realized anything was wrong, the mind-captured special-service officer commandeered the one air-car currently at the site. Flying at high speed, he made for the planetary capital: the same walled town which had once been saved from being overrun by the predatory Creepycrawlids. On the way, he raised the coordinator Boone Crockett on radio.

"We've learned that the strongest of the reptilian kingdoms in the hollow planet is digging its own shaft up to the surface. They hope to emerge not far from YOU. We need to head them off before they get close to some settlers and make the settlers obey THEM. Please issue me at least five rayguns, to equip some of the most intelligent Bazookadaran humans to fight the Wingdingers from long range, and set up a drilling rig to let me get underground where my party can flank the reptiles."

Earl moved fast enough to evade being detained by John Cardsharper. Bearing in mind the gravity flip-flop, Zegbobo and his minions could excavate "downward" exactly where they would meet Earl's now mind-controlled settlers who were digging "downward" in the opposite direction.

Once the Wingdingers took possession of the energy weapons, their king ordered the elimination of the snookered humans. But Earl rallied just enough strength of will to MAKE the reptiles agree only to make the men forget what really happened. By the time the control victims made it back home, Zegbobo's tribe would be well on the way to ruling all of Bazookadar.

John, Lylah and Tiptikditpip arrived at the main settlement four hours after Earl and his dupes went underground. Thus they met the dupes MINUS Earl coming back up. "Lylah," said John, "you're the only one who can help these men recover their senses. The Flashlight and I can resist attempts by the Wingdingers to make robots of us."

"Very well, darling. But hopefully, shaking the men out of this daze won't take long. Then I'll see if I can get Slick and Krayzee back on-planet."

The hypnotized men were taken in tow by Lylah, after she kissed her husband and told him not to get himself killed. With Tiptikditpip's consent, Lylah could use the Fuss to make the six-legged hero sleep. John's gigantic strength enabled him to carry his Green Flashlight friend safely down the new shaft. But by the time they emerged in Bazookadar, Zegbobo and company were gone. Encumbered with Tiptikditpip, John would not be able to overtake the bad guys. Resignedly, John woke the super-insect.

"We can't catch them now. Best move now is for you to contact Bill, tell him what we know. With luck, we can move against them from two directions."

"It makes sense," replied the arthropod; "but King Trampelfar needs to know his danger. Let me return the favor, and carry you to some spot near where this King Zegbobo is. You'll still be mentally undetectable for them, and I'll veer off. We need to assume that Rugdamont is a target."

Tiptikditpip did everything he intended, and his news was a bombshell to Trampelfar and Frazetta.

 

[Copperfox]

Zegbobo had political savvy. Shortly after succeeding to the rule of his kingdom, he had reached out to three of the smaller Wingdinger kingdoms, providing defense against their stronger neighbors in return for safe landing in those kingdoms when his messengers and scouts had to travel far. Now-- with his telepathy ranging exceptionally far when contacting persons he knew-- he called on these allies to provide ten or twelve strong-winged males each, to fly toward Rugdamont as a flank-attack force.

The earlier innovation of kites to ease the effort of long-distance flight was reactivated for the invasion. Earl Pufferton, still in Zegbobo's mental grasp, performed a wide scan to give the attackers an overview of defending forces. In one more bit of resistance, because the Wingdinger warlord had not ASKED, Earl did not volunteer the fact that the un-mind-readable John Cardsharper was with the Rugdamonters, carrying an extremely powerful sniper rifle, just like what Tharks would carry in Edgar Rice Burroughs' Barsoom novels.

Meanwhile, unsuspected by most characters, Bill Redvest was flying a "chord" of the spherical interior, passing as close as he dared to the central sun. With him he carried his shape-changer wife Versaderma, and John's up-sider wife Lylah. The two passengers managed to sleep for an hour during the transit; it was understood that if exhaustion made Bill a danger to himself, he could withdraw to where he could produce a sort of super-bed to revitalize himself. Tiptikditpip knew to expect them.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

The battle was joined all around King Trampelfar's island kingdom. Raygun beams, bullet-gun bullets, arrows and stones flew down to and up from the embattled island. Seven unwise Wingdingers, coveting fame, tried to dive onto Trampelfar; but in each instance, they made the fatal mistake of target-locking on the human liberator with telepathy. Each time, their mental probes ran into Trampelfar's unappeasable vendetta for the murder of his mother. Mentally stumbling, each monster in turn fell victim to a sledgehammer of condemnation for their culture's crimes. Each one was shot or hacked by Trampelfar.

Both Green Flashlights concentrated on driving back sea monsters, whom Zegbobo had induced to crawl onto land. Being Green Flashlights, they would not slay these poor dumb creatures. Lylah, activating a light saber, was less gentle with anyone who attacked her. Versaderma followed her own suggestion, doing rapid shape changes which confused every Wingdinger trying to read or control her mind. And John Cardsharper? He was in his element, using rifle, sword and axe to kill Slambangani troops who had been brought to Rugdamont as cannon fodder.

When the Wingdingers understood that they were losing more warriors than the human side was losing, the less bold among them began focusing on getting away alive. But Zegbobo, driven by hubris (look it up), insisted on single combat with Trampelfar. The pterodactyloid attacked with his long beak, while defending with small targe-shields gripped in his wing-hands. Lots of clang-clash stuff ensued..... but when the duel ceased like a light bulb going out, it was noticeable. As if in movie slow motion, the ambitious reptile king fell down dead, beak first, into a pool of his own blood.

Once the only living Wingdingers on Rugdamont were captives, Queen Frazetta joined her husband, and spoke to the vanquished reptiles.

"Your mind-reading will assure you that I speak truth on my husband's behalf. All of you are now hostages. For you to be sent home-- with crippled wings, but otherwise viable-- several younglings from each of your nest-lands must be sent to us. These little Wingdingers-- and you know that our word is true in this matter-- will be treated kindly, but they will be made to understand that HUMANS ARE INTELLIGENT BEINGS WHO DESERVE RESPECT. And you WILL permit all human slaves you hold to depart for human territory. This will be done in the hope that our different races can leave each other in peace hereafter, without lasting grudges.

"Be advised that beings like Lylah Cardsharper, who can BLOCK your mind control, will routinely visit this world from now on. They will stay informed on conditions in Trampelfar's kingdom; and, while not supporting humans in wanton revenge against your people, they WILL PUNISH any renewed aggression from your side-- which would include sneaky interference like what you did to Earl Pufferton.

"This is the best offer you're going to get. I advise you to take it and like it."

 

[Copperfox]

In the central Africa of Earth-Whichever , specifically in Zaire (that name was consistently retained on this Earth-variant), Kirk Slippage and Roby Doby were following up on a prior investigation by Arush and Jelisaveta Vhani. (I remind the readers that Jelisaveta received an odd sensory ability as a side effect of the war against Trippenwonk.) Kirk and Roby met with a federal prosecutor named Peter Mayangi, who had also interacted with the Vhanis.

"When Calvin Wallace came to Zaire as a tourist, he visited four towns which have all suffered banditry."

Roby responded: "Did his visit seem to have any effect on the crime situation?"

"More accurately, it affected honest people's response to bandit gangs. My undercover detectives reported impromptu citizen committees bringing appeasement tribute to bandit gangs-- gangs which had not even troubled their communities. Subsequently, some of the appeasers even passed warnings to the bandits of police movements. These behaviors are consistent with what we hear about the Anti-Strife Equation, so we facilitated covert actions to bring Jelisaveta Vhani into proximity with people who had shown this odd behavior."

"And her findings, if any?"

"Mrs. Vhani's alien sensory implants gave her the strong impression that such persons had been mentally influenced by an energy pattern which doesn't match any medical radiology procedures known in our world."

"We guessed that you would have something of this nature to tell," said Doc Slippage. "If you can contrive opportunities for me to do electro-encephalograms on persons thus affected, I'll correlate them with findings in other countries that Mister Wallace visits."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Irina Beriya, the Russian military officer who had befriended She-Hunk and other Western heroes, was a general by now, in her capacity as a military liaison to the United States. Western heroes had rendered enough aid to Russia during the Awkwardlispian invasion, that Russian-American relationships were pretty cordial now. So it was not very shocking when Irina paid a visit to Stony Stork, with an assistant to General Thumper Moss in attendance. The assistant, a Major Enrico Nogales, had seen action in the fighting against Trippenwonk, and (like Irina) had enjoyed a tour inside the human-controlled Shadything warship which had greatly helped the defense. Irina and Enrico enjoyed some small talk before getting down to business with Iron Gent.

Stony, like his associate Roby Doby, enjoyed a high security clearance. He thus could get right into the substance of the meeting.

"General Beriya, one thing all of us know is that an alien artifact is in circulation which reduces people's will to oppose evil. But do you know of any currently-active evil space aliens who might be planning to exploit this kind of unreadiness on the part of our human race?"

"Not yet, I don't. From what I know about Planet New Laziness and its ruler Highfyver, he seems to have scattered copies of his passivity-producing mind-alteration program at random across two galaxies. Highfyver is nominally on the side of good, so I don't think that he would tell evil super-beings, 'Okay, here's a list of planets which won't resist your invasion forces'."

Enrico grunted softly. "Based on what converted War Witches have told us, all of that Anti-Strife Equation distribution occurred while Twerpseid was totally secure in his rule of Awkwardlisp. Highfyver could never have foreseen Erica Vincent being changed into a good-aligned undead being who could drain the power of evil super-beings and give it to her husband as a farewell gift before she departed for The Good Place. Thus, Highfyver might have planned to set up helpless victims whom he could throw to the wolves, so he wouldn't need to bother with fighting to protect the people dependent on him."

 

[Copperfox]

Jiang Fung-Yao and his ex-War-Witch wife Litzelga (the one whose fingernails naturally glowed in the dark) by now had three children: three-year-old son Bruce, one-year-old daughter Kuo-Hai (named for Fung-Yao's mother) and pre-born son Jerry who was three months away from emerging. They also had a German Shepherd named Skater (based on movements she made when playing) who was a daughter of the famous dog hero Tin Rin Rin. The interplanetary family now dwelt on the Big Island of Hawaii, which had recently suffered a lack of large- animal veterinarians. Bruce, who had inherited his mother's physical strength along with his father's intellect, was already learning to ride horses.

While Fung-Yao was giving medical examinations to cattle, Litzelga and the children were walking Skater along an easy hiking trail, when a helicopter approached. The silver-haired mother had seen this helo before: it belonged to T.R. Mosby, a Honolulu-based African-American military veteran whose livelihood came from chartering scenic flights for tourists. T.R. was also known to be associated with a fellow veteran who was now a private detective, but this was not relevant to the current situation.

Landing as near to the family as was consistent with safety, the big man emerged carrying a German Shepherd whose picture Litzelga had seen more than once. (There was even a statue of him in this Earth-variant's version of Rockford, Illinois.) Also disembarking, stroking the elderly dog's head, was a fair-haired teenage boy: none other than Jeff Stierman, owner of Tin Rin Rin. Skater whined, sensing the solemnity of this moment.

"Hello, Skater," said Jeff. "Your father is ready to take his place among the most noble of beasts; but he has held on long enough to get here, so he can pass his anointing to you. Carry on his heroic tradition."

Skater licked her sire's face, then lowered her head. Tin Rin Rin touched her forehead with his right forepaw, then lay down in peace.

T.R. bowed his head, removing his cap, while Jeff knelt beside his dog in farewell. Then the air was filled with triumphant music, such as might be heard when a valiant beast crossed the finish line and received his champion's wreath.

 

[Copperfox]

Preston "Truthside" Vincent had previously gifted a subspace radio set to the military establishment of his native Ostralia (remember, slightly different pronunciation on Earth-Whichever). Ostralian authorities knew about the hunt for the latest copy of "Anti-Strife" to be turned up, though they didn't know about Tin Rin Rin's mantle being passed along. So they called Planet Awkwardlisp. The call was taken by Shelshidi, a female of the four-armed humanoid race which was well represented on that formerly-cursed planet.

Lieutenant Mel Hickman, the man at the Earth-Whichever end, asked, "Are there any Heart Sapphire Sisters on Awkwardlisp right now?"

"Yes, one." Shelshidi linked a still visual into the connection: a mostly-human-looking woman, only with a single central eye on her face. "This is Vilkarezdu of the Fifth Blezrip. I have no idea what a Blezrip is, but Vilkarezdu was one of the invaders of Jersey Earth. She did most of her meddling in the Africa of that Earth. And yes, she knows better now."

Hickman would not have felt revolted by the sight of a two-eyed woman who had lost one eye, but he was in no danger of feeling attracted to a cyclops. Nonetheless, he had no doubt that this Blezrip lady must be a stunner by the standards of her own people.

"All right. I understand that not all of the Sapphire Sisters who disrupted that other Earth's infrastructure were even aware, when they landed, that Highfyver wanted to reclaim the Anti-Strife data unit which was buried in New Jersey. Does Vilkarezdu at least know about it by now?"

"So she does. Do you want me to page her and get her on the frequency?"

"Please, absolutely."

To make this brief, the Ostralians and Shelshidi were able to arrange for Vilkarezdu to meet the Thumpercolts, Doc Slippage and Roby Doby on Earth-Whichever. She agreed to assist in the hunt for the Anti-Strife Equation copy now on this Earth-variant.

Dirtypool was rather disrespectful toward Vilkarezdu; but when she levitated him sixty feet straight up and dropped him onto pavement, he conceded her a point while he realigned his temporarily-broken bones.

 

[Copperfox]

Things were being put in order in the Dune-related sub-reality. Vasili Rutintutin with his new bride Pristaka, and everybody from Terra, felt free to catch the Starhatch for home. But the case of Deuce "Street Bat" Wayans was unique. Trala-Lalia of the Spoon received a revelation through The Jalapeno.

"Mister Wayans, I have only just picked up something startling, unlike anything I know about Starhatches. Apparently because of the Power which wants good endings for stories, _your_ coming here from your own Earth-variant was a _time_ shift. In your world, it was eight years ago that you left your estate to help us defend Ashtrayides territory."

To her surprise, Deuce _wasn't_ surprised. "Yes, I know. Part of the reason for this was to delay my aging, sort of, so that I could be of use to my native world longer than I could be otherwise. But tell me more; you may have information I wasn't told."

"All right. Hector von Bootblack, a good wizard in the service of the Creator, contributed to this. He discovered that a change was coming to your Earth: one which you would have no hope of combatting, _unless_ you received some special help up front. Crucial to this help was a man born in _our_ sub-reality, but one who has lived for some time on an Earth-variant which also is home to a bat-hero. I refer to a Lazytaxie Face Twister named Maskoflage. Maskoflage was befriended by your nearest equivalent among any Earth-variants: Brutus Dwayne, alias Batfellow. In anticipation of the very crisis we're discussing, Hector von Bootblack assisted Maskoflage to assume your exact appearance."

Deuce nodded. "I didn't know about this Von Bootblack, but I know that Maskoflage was sent through the temporally-modified Starhatch, aided by Black Admiral and a _really_ strange extraterrestrial. They deposited him in Gossamer City, the biggest suburb of Yorkborough. As Maskoflage experienced time while standing in for me, he was able to spend years making preparations on every major piece of property that I own. He caused extra tunnels, bunkers and escape routes to be created, completely unsuspected by anyone, all before the overbearing decrees began to be issued.

"All this was done for one purpose: to enable me, upon returning home, to have ways to sneak around instead of being arrested instantly by the new rulers of my native Earth. Arrested _for_ the 'crime' of not wanting everyone to be urban serfs in what they called The Avenues."

Trala-Lalia remarked, "In my native sub-reality, when it was found that The Jalapeno could empower Naughtygators to jump instantly between star systems, the Empire suppressed all _other_ modes of super-luminal travel. The authorities _claimed_ that they were worried about the unrestrained manufacturing of non-approved starship types contaminating the planets which built them. But their true motive was to strangle freedom of travel by way of a monopoly on shipping."

Street Bat's eyebrows rose, then he scowled. "Yes! Politicians in my America, and elsewhere, began enthusiastically declaring that Mother Earth would be 'healed from the human cancer' if all people were compelled to live and work inside unroofed 'corridors' which each extended a hundred miles or farther, yet whose _width_ would never be more than two miles at any point. It was promised that this would eliminate all crime."

Trala nodded. "Right-- eliminate crime by _making_ it a crime to own your own house, and a crime to want freedom of movement. When Father decided that Groan Starr, my second brother, should be kept safe _outside_ the Empire, he needed to hire the alien Yondupe to smuggle Groaner away without the Spaced-Out Guild knowing it."

 

[Copperfox]

>>> We now reverse time, back many years before Groan Starr defied Dark Headgear and won the heart of Princess Vespa. Which is to say, back before the time from which Street Bat was plucked to join the fight against evil in the Dune-based sub-universe. Which is the time to which Maskoflage was _sent_ to fill in for Street Bat's alter-ego. The fake Deuce Wayans was, of course, briefed for his role with the aid of Lazytaxie knowledge-implantation methods. Street Bat's not-terribly-old equivalent of Alfred Pennyworth, a Royal Air Force veteran and champion boxer named Alvin Springbuck, was also secretly made aware of the switch and the reasons for it.

As has usually been the interpretation in versions of the Batman premise, the caped hero's hometown was most nearly a copy of New York City. As for that, in the real world, "Gotham" was originally an alternate name _for_ New York City. The difference here is that the big city was called "Yorkborough," and a greater portion of it was physically on Long Island than is the case with (have to call it something) "Bat-Earth." Much of the land area _west_ of Manhattan took the form of governmentally-separate suburbs (not that Street-Bat ignored criminals in those suburbs).

Wayans Enterprises was a widely-diversified conglomerate; but no matter how large it grew, it always adhered to the moral principles of its founder, Thomas Wayans: fair treatment of employees, equal opportunity in hiring (merit-based, not by arbitrary quotas), apprenticeship plans which enabled disadvantaged persons to _become_ qualified, scrupulous truth in advertising, etc. Thomas' eldest son Rudyard Wayans had upheld the tradition, while increasing the mega-corporation's emphasis on assisting both law enforcement and rehabilitation of convicts. Rudyard had been senselessly murdered like Bruce Wayne's father in canonical "Batman," but as a contrast, though mortally wounded, Rudyard had successfully slain the murderer in return by breaking his neck, _saving_ his wife as well as their son Deuce.

Deuce's mother Beatrice, raised a Mennonite in Ohio, was an absolute pacifist; and in the shock of her bereavement she had reflexively doubled down on the pacifism. She had publicly denounced her husband for saving her, endlessly reciting "Thou shalt not kill." She had scolded her well-educated son when he informed her correctly that the _Hebrew_ verb in that Commandment properly meant "murder," _never_ applying equally to all taking of life. She had even wanted to fire Alvin simply for being a war veteran, but her husband's ironclad will thwarted her. So Beatrice had left her son in Alvin's care, harrumphing, "You two deserve each other."

This, privately. For public consumption, Beatrice had pretended to love her son. Hypocrisy came easily to someone who believed that her simply never _killing_ anyone was enough to excuse any _other_ bad conduct on her part. And when Deuce showed no sign of resenting her phoniness, she accepted his acquiescence as merely her due.

Deuce and Alvin had left Beatrice to play at being important. She couldn't withdraw from defense contracts, because Wayans Enterprises _wasn't_ a defense contractor. Without anyone objecting, she had allotted business funds to a new foundation, calling it "the Be The Change Foundation." This new organization made a great tax writeoff, but its only contribution to global peace was to side _with_ every aggressor _against_ every victim. Whenever she had microphones in front of her for a discussion of world affairs, she always babbled about "both sides always being equally wrong;" then she would get right back to only blaming the victims.

For their part, Deuce and Alvin covertly started their own long-term project, foreseeing that their world was going to need a hero. Street Bat would not be able to exert much if any influence on international trends, but it would count for something if he could make the United States healthier and stronger. Beginning where they could most effectively begin, they recruited as workers men who had been aided in times of need by Rudyard Wayans. These men had been transported in "blind" vehicles to the excavation sites which would become Bat Cave equivalents: one in the Long Island component of Yorkborough, one in Pennsylvania, and one in Ohio. That last one was within the boundaries of dairy-farming land owned by Wayans Enterprises. But to make it a little harder for anyone to track down the new vigilante, Deuce made his very first appearance as a crimefighter in Coldcash City, which was Bat-Earth's direct version of Las Vegas.

The casino district of Coldcash City had provided a perfect start for Street Bat. Gangsters had been entrenched there for decades; and over those decades, the rackets had steadily increased their emphasis on, cough cough, improper behavior toward women.

With a cosmetically disguised face and fake identity, Deuce at age nineteen had checked into a mid-ranked Coldcash hotel, while Alvin (also incognito) checked into a top-grade resort two miles away. On a pre-planned evening, Alvin went forth to be available as backup for Deuce. That night, no fewer than twenty men involved in evil stuff had suffered broken arms and other painful events. All of them (if conscious) had been told _exactly_ why they were being punished. (Deuce had been extremely careful not to attack anyone who was not obviously and clearly doing evil.) And that night was the first time criminals on Bat-Earth heard what would become a terrifying utterance:

"I'm Street Bat."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

All of the above came before the time coordinates from which Deuce would be plucked away to join the action in the Dune-based sub-reality. Deuce and Alvin's first intimation of how big the storyverse was came soon after, when they were at a Wayans office complex in South Dakota. A slightly older Street Bat, in an improved costume, appeared before them in a conference room, accompanied by a large caped-but-not-masked man, by a smaller and plain-looking man, and by a thing that looked like a gigantic starfish.

"Don't be alarmed," said the older Street Bat, uncovering his face. "We already know the concept of time travel. We used to love the 'Doctor How' TV series, until the show-runners decided that absolutely _every_ female character had to be superior in every way to every male."

Younger Deuce's eyes widened. "I never spoke about that to anyone! I didn't want Mom yelling that I regarded women as property."

The big man grinned, first addressing the plain-looking one. "I suspect that Mrs. Wayans would admire the Hotblood Matrons-- that is, the unrepentant ones. Young Street Bat, I'm called Black Admiral, and I come from a different Earth-variant. The star-shaped being, who understands everything we say, is an alien from a very distant planet; she is named Zuha-Zuzob, and her powers will be very helpful to your work in the near future-- covertly, of course. And this man is named Maskoflage; he is essentially human, but can change his appearance-- including to look like you."

The Face Twister briefly demonstrated his talent, first copying Deuce, then copying Alvin.

The butler-aide-bodyguard nodded cheerfully. "Deuce, this can 'prove' that you couldn't possibly be Street Bat. Zuha-Zuzob, we appreciate your willingness to promote justice on a planet so different from your homeworld. Is this something you do often?"

"It is, and others like me do the same. We are known as the Green Flashlight Corps. What I propose to do for you is another way to make it appear that certain activities 'could not' be connected with you. It will consist in a useful task being done for you without _any_ Earthpeople taking part in it who might be questioned."

 

[Copperfox]

Older Deuce elaborated for his younger self: "I remember as the past what Zuha-Zuzob is going to do before this week is out. She will offer to use her powers to excavate an additional cave for your use, wherever you request. It just needs to be at a fairly remote spot, so she can land unseen. She cannot become invisible. She _can_ harden the inside surface of the new hideout, so it won't cave in. But it has to be you who names the location."

Deuce chose a private forest preserve owned by his family: one which adjoined a state forest preserve in Kentucky. The super-starfish did as promised, and afterwards furnished Deuce and Alvin with precise details. She concluded: "Another Green Flashlight, of a different non-human species, will visit this Earth at a time to be announced, ready to perform whatever job will support your cause as it then stands."

"And I," said Older Deuce, "will put in an appearance day after tomorrow, far away from where you'll be then. I remember that we went golfing right around this time."

"Uh, yes, we, I mean I, will be in upper-peninsula Michigan."

"Very good. Black Admiral can carry me to Utah fast enough to serve as invisibility in transit. I'll speak with leaders of the state police there: explain to them that we're on their side, and that we don't kill people."

Maskoflage touched Younger Deuce's shoulder. "These fake-outs will be enough to quash any suspicion that Street Bat is you. Continue your crime- fighting for the next fifteen months; Green Flashlights will be on rotating standby as reinforcements for you. After that period, you will _become_ your older self, being moved forward in time for the interstellar adventure in which Black Admiral had, or _will_ have a role."

"Don't worry," Older Deuce told Younger Deuce. "Maskoflage will stay on this Earth, doing his roleplay as either of your identities when it doesn't require combat. And I _remember_ that Alvin succeeds at filling in for us on five occasions when it >is< necessary for Street Bat to fight crooks. Good news, Alvin, you _don't_ get severely harmed on any of those occasions, and you >do< capture crooks to hand over to the law."

"I believe you," said Younger Deuce; "but _why_ is this much razzle-dazzle needed?"

"I myself only know hints," replied the elder self. "But where I've been, there are persons able to see parts of the future. _They_ say that we-- both of us being me by then-- will confront an entirely different evil years from now. The seers tell me that it will be better to let that situation proceed without excessive intervention by metahumans. But I _can_ tell you that all of our prior measures for stealth and concealment will be life savers for us in that future crisis. What's more, thanks to us being shifted forward in time, we will be _younger_ then than if we lived straight through all the intervening years. This is crucial, since I'm told it will _take_ years for us to overcome the future evil."

Younger Deuce drew a long breath. "Well, senior me, I guess I can look forward to an _interesting_ young adulthood. Just _don't_ tell me whether I eventually find true love; I want at least some things in our life to be spontaneous."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

While doing the things I've depicted him doing alongside the Terran Spetsnaz and other heroes during the defense against an evil robot invasion, Street Bat's net outcome in personal time-stream was a six-year forward skip. Meanwhile, additional Green Flashlights helping out on Bat-Earth were the reptilian Twishdok and the brick-like Poradsimu. Maskoflage was gated back to the modified Starhatch soon enough to brief Deuce about the home front.

"In the end, your true challenge isn't even about hostile super-characters. It's about the brute force of a government without conscience or accountability, on an Earth-variant with no native metahumans on _either_ side of the good-against-evil divide."

Street Bat sighed heavily. "I suppose it's too much to hope for that the corrupted government _isn't_ the United States government."

"Sorry, it >is< your America. The new President, a stealth candidate named Mark Hegel, is advocating something I've never even heard of before, and I'm acquainted with the history of four Earths besides yours. Beginning months before he received his nomination, Hegel surrounded himself with twenty or more highly partisan journalists and university presidents; neither I nor Alvin could find out who first had the idea. But they call it 'The Life Avenues'."

Deuce cocked his head like a dog. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It's, well-- I said no _native_ metahumans on your Earth; but in view of the way >we< helped you make preparations, I won't be surprised if President Hegel has his own covert backing which might originate off-world."

Street Bat stared into space. "Does this Hegel have backing >on< Earth..... given..... by my mother?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Then whatever this President wants, it must have some connection with her noises about 'saving the Earth.' You were on my Earth long enough, you must have noticed how Mom scolded automobile owners for 'poisoning Mother Nature,' but had no qualms about using a private jet to travel."

The good-aligned Face Twister looked profoundly sad. "You're getting the idea. Let me just rip off the bandage in one tug. The Hegel regime-- and this is why I suspect they have alien assistance-- they are constructing a sort of open-topped corridors, each of these less than two miles wide between walls a hundred or more feet high. Much of the building material is recycled from the _demolition_ of existing city neighborhoods. This includes Yorkborough; less than half of that metropolis remains now. The Be The Change Foundation is boosting the transference of suddenly-homeless people into the 'Avenues,' whose length upon completion-- and sealing off the ends-- will be no less than a hundred miles each. Schools, apartments, workplaces and government-run stores will be fitted in along either side of elevated light-rail tracks which run both ways; the trains are to be the _only_ transportation for the confined population, besides bicycles, wheelchairs, skateboards, baby carriages and walking shoes. It's being touted as a huge convenience that residents will always be within a maximum six miles of whatever they need.

"But anyone living in the Avenues will be forbidden to go _outside_ them via the few guarded exterior gates, without obtaining special permission. Apparently, little half-day excursions 'to appreciate Mother Gaia' will be granted as rewards for those proletarians who are especially obedient."

Deuce Wayans had never looked so dismayed when merely facing ten or twelve armed gangsters. "Is _everyone_ just accepting this?"

"They aren't being given a vote about it. All dissent is being punished as 'hate speech.' And every openly Marxist government is endorsing the enclosing of citizens. But on the bright side, Alvin was evacuated along with me. Right now, he's telling the Green Flashlights what he can about the overthrow of our America."

 

[Copperfox]

At a certain point in time on Bat-Earth, after Maskoflage had been left to continue his masquerade, the first "Life Avenue" went fully operational in the state of New York, followed soon by another north of Los Angeles. Where Yorkborough was concerned, the seedy western suburb called Gossamer City was excluded from the Avenue, and its status remained uncertain. As in America on most Earth-variants, the opposite coasts were more amenable to government ruling from the top down than the heartland was. President Hegel and his shadowy handlers would be "patient" with the flyover country between the Rockies and the Appalachians. After ten or more Avenues were up and running, the administration and its leashed media would start hyping a narrative about knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing hicks trying to reverse progress.

But there still was time to resist. In the persona of Deuce Wayans, Maskoflage went to meet Deuce's mother at a ranch in Colorado owned by a father-side cousin of Deuce named Ben Wayans. Ben had always been on good terms with Deuce, and (unaware of the Face Twister posing as Cousin Deuce) had asked Deuce to come to Colorado's high plains and provide moral support. Alvin Springbuck had legitimate company business to manage for Deuce, and he knew how much Beatrice hated him. But he and Deuce had let one more trustworthy man in on some aspects of their anti-Marxist campaign. Chang-Shi Kirby, a Chinese-American, had maternal relatives who had experienced _more_ than enough of a central government micro-managing everything. Besides being skilled with kung-fu and firearms if needed, Chang-Shi knew plenty about the extended Wayans family, and could make the save if Maskoflage were in danger of being exposed as not knowing facts he should have known about them.

South of Limon, Colorado (a town virtually identical to the Limon, Colorado of Original Earth) lay what Ben's parents had christened the Audacious Angus Ranch. Maskoflage, while dwelling on Seedubb, had learned how to ride a horse-- the animal and the instruction being provided respectively by Brutus Dwayne and Alphonse Nickelworth. Since the real Deuce Wayans could ride, and since Chang-Shi also possessed the skill, it was fun _and_ reinforced Maskoflage's credibility for them to ride the final fifteen miles to the ranch house. They arrived ahead of Beatrice, because her nine-miles-per-gallon stretch limousine was not designed for irregular high-plains roads. Heinrich the chauffeur had to drive _slowly,_ both to keep his boss lady comfortable and to protect the limousine's suspension.

Ben, his wife Isobel holding five-year-old Mateo, and seven-year-old Esmeralda, welcomed the mounted visitors. Bartolomeo, elder brother to Mateo and Esmeralda, was miles away to the west, working alongside the ranch hands. By the time Beatrice and Heinrich jolted up to the ranch house, Maskoflage and Chang-Shi had had time to get on the same page with Ben's household.

On most Earth-variants, there were many country homes where people usually entered and left through a rear door. Ben politely required his aunt and Heinrich to observe this custom, but then settled them in a pleasant sitting room. While intending to let Ben mostly do the talking, Maskoflage made sure at the outset to be very much Deuce Wayans.

"Did you have a nice flight from Tacoma, Mother?"

If insincere smiles could create literal warmth, Rudyard Wayans' widow could have heated the ranch house in December. "Yes, thank you. As I said in my e-mail, I have a business model to show to your cousin."

"Would this be related to the usage of open land after most of the U.S. population gets cozy inside the Life Avenues?"

The unwitting mother of Street Bat became comparatively sincere in her smile. "I'm so pleased at this confirmation that you inherited >my< intelligence. Yes, I'm looking ahead to the most realistic way of rationing, um, distributing sustenance to the people dwelling in greater unity."

Maskoflage now yielded place in the conversation to Ben. Beatrice made a sales pitch for the elimination of meat production. This included every talking point ever used by militant vegans-- even the pretense that humans not having long fangs was proof that they ought never to eat meat or even eggs. Ben listened, and perused a five-year agricultural-change plan which apparently entailed butchering all present herds and placing the frozen meat in the hands of regulatory bureaucrats.

In other words, Maskoflage and Chang-Shi thought as one, the privileged meddlers get to eat the meat they take away from the little people. There was no need for them to prompt Ben and Isobel. The mistress of the ranch opened for her husband:

"Bartolomeo, Esmeralda and Mateo have always lived as _omnivores,_ which is what human beings are. They are all in good health. Ben, please share with your aunt what you talked about at breakfast." Her husband nodded, and faced Beatrice.

"Aunt Beatrice, have you ever tried growing squash or melons or tomatoes on un-irrigated semi-arid land? Why >do< you suppose people raise cattle on these prairies? The soil in vast areas of America just is not rich enough to sustain vegetables, even grain, without ambitious watering. But cattle and sheep can live on the drought-resistant grass which is _natural_ to near-desert land. And providing water for _them_ can be conveniently centralized. These meat animals effectively _make_ the prairie a food-producing environment. What's more, anyone eating a strict vegan diet _will_ have difficulty getting vitamins D and B-12. Anemia is also a serious possibility. In which connection, I owe it to you to tell you: consume inactive yeast, because this at least will provide B-12."

After departing the ranch, Beatrice needed at least a full hour to convince herself that she had won the argument. As for the two cousins, their brother-like relationship was reinforced-- even if one of them wasn't really present. Maskoflage, still in character as Deuce, carefully hinted that he might form plans to ramp up resistance to the Life Avenues initiative. Taking it to the mostly-rigged federal courts might avail nothing, but it would at least get more people thinking second thoughts about whether they _really_ wanted to be shoehorned into such narrow spaces, unable to call anything their own property.

When the actual Street Bat returned home, he would find that at least some of his work had been done for him. And when Chang-Shi was eventually let in on Deuce's secret, he would end up sharing with Alvin the job of being Street Bat at intervals.

 

[Copperfox]

OKAY, IT'S BEEN SOME WHILE SINCE I PROVIDED A SHORT MULTI-
PLOTLINE REVIEW OF WHAT'S BEEN DESCRIBED IN RECENT WEEKS.

On Punksteema, four parties of heroes have plenty of business ahead of them. Sir Wyatt Hickok has been on Wellvernia (the south continent, where he and Ronald both were born), training two laboring-class youths who are the most recent apprentices for the noble Order of Sir Edgar. In Samplibam, the ronin Jonawiku (recently instructed in the Christian faith by Mistress Mukuma) will soon be contending with the evil schemes of the most corrupt clan in the Shogunate, and will be assisted in this by local good guys, including the magical Tengu. Queen Sotavalit of Mifdola was organizing a posse to cross the non-oceanic arctic zone of Punksteema, on the lookout for activity by the Frantic Druids. And in Reslagor, Sir Ronald, Zoralee Jeralo, and the good-aligned druidess Wildroot Seedoil are among numerous persons from several nations who are trying to prevent workers' grievances from starting a civil war.

The Star Wars-ish planet Powurkord, one where many Banjolorians had settled in as law-abiding citizens, was saved from being conquered by the Quark-Elves. The Spacer Swimmers were a major factor in Powurkord's defense. Also helping to protect the planet were the superhero Black Giraffe and his Heart Sapphire wife Joza-Varu-Paf. (No, I didn't pair them up just because "Paf" rhymes with "Giraffe.") Joza and Giraffe then traveled to Planet Kantpoo to visit the Spacewalker family. They had the displeasure of encountering an obnoxious she-demon called Headless Lizzie, who imagines evil patriarchal oppressors around every corner.

With my new Halo-based plotline, I've been elaborating on my own premise of "stories becoming real." This began when characters based on "Babylon Five," with others, encountered a Halo-based sub-reality which had only just become real. By doing this, I forced myself both to depict the new storyverse which had hit the ground running, and to go back and look at the past which "Heyho" characters believed they remembered. This emphasized my big revision of the "Forerunner" and "Flood" premises in the Halo game. I've barely started parodying Cortana and the Master Chief, but have portrayed the adventures of my vague equivalent of the hero Noble Six.

You may remember Planet Freesoil, which has links to the "Spaceballs" and "Starship Troopers" franchises. This was where Dark Headgear was officially converted to goodness and settled down. The colony attracted non-human settlers also, including some resembling Greedo in "A New Hope." A while back, several Freesoilers even were transported all the way to the presumable Andromeda Galaxy, where they played a role in defeating the dictatorship which I imagined based on "Blake's Seven." Most recently, Freesoil was revealed to be a "Hollow Earth" sort of world, and a mixed band of heroes handed a defeat to evil monsters based on Edgar Rice Burroughs' "Pellucidar" novels.

 

[Copperfox]

Shakespeare's play Julius Caesar includes the line, "The evil that men do lives after them." William Shakespeare had existed on Mediumgard Earth, but this Earth's occasional contact with Hallpasscard had altered The Bard's body of work. For instance, A Midsummer Night's Dream had about the same plot, but the supernatural elements were Nordic style. And Julius Caesar just never was written by the Mediumgard Shakespeare. Nonetheless, that line about evil is applicable to the Mediumgard-born evil mystic Drigum Namdre, who eventually died on Planet Powurkord.

In his "home ground" career before he emigrated to the Star Wars-related sub-reality, Drigum had encouraged the corruptible couple Shelley and Lance Heflin to become thieves. But at least he had not broken up their marriage. One of his VERY MOST despicable actions had been to break up two OTHER marriages between professed Christians-- prominent ones.

In the north-central United States on Mediumgard Earth, a singer-evangelist named Colter Vinson had enjoyed great regional popularity, and put three albums on the contemporary Christian music charts. His okay-looking but modest and responsible wife Penelope had borne his children and stuck by him in all troubles. Colter, however, had JUST BEGGED for someone to lure him into major sin-- by making it his entire and only message that God's grace was a green light for selfishness. Every "testimony" he gave to audiences was invariably to the effect that any attempt to maintain a good conscience or fulfill obligations was "the sin of TRYING TO EARN SALVATION IN YOUR OWN STRENGTH!!" Meanwhile, Drigum had been setting up his ambush, to induce Colter Vinson to PRACTICE the real meaning of his message.

A sexy country singer named Gayla Lamont, singing inoffensive secular country songs but professing faith in Jesus, was married to a Christian record producer named Kerry Chatfield. Drigum had psychically persuaded her that since God wanted her to be happy, self-esteem gave her the right to exalt her own pleasure.

Already acquainted professionally, Colter and Gayla had found a pretext to begin collaborating on a studio project. They had kept up the pretense of innocent creative activity until they had lawyers lined up to rob their spouses in a divorce. Then Gayla had concocted a provocation. Kerry had always wished for her to use his last name, but had never made a fight of it. Now Gayla began telling Kerry that since she was the famous one, HE should begin using HER last name. Blindsiding him publicly with her demand at a public event, the country hottie had begun "revealing" to the media that Kerry was "controlling" and "possessive." Doing all she could to cast Kerry as the bad guy, she divorced him-- pretending to be "generous" by seeking divorce "merely" on grounds of irreconcilable differences. Meanwhile, since Penelope Vinson was the only central party who wasn't a spotlight celebrity, Colter discarded his wife more quietly but just as cruelly.

As for Gayla's excuse, Kerry was able to speak with the few reporters who were willing to hear his side. He told them: "The only irreconcilable difference was that the children and I wanted her to stay, and she wanted to leave."

The potential aftermath of Kerry and Penelope consoling each other had never occurred. Penelope had nothing against Kerry, but she sought her comfort with relatives in Arizona.

When Gayla and Colter got married, all the speechmaking was along the lines of "Love wins!"

Their flashy honeymoon was blissful for many months. The first crack in the edifice occurred when Gayla began telling Colter that HE should begin using her last name.

\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \

Here we bring the narrative up to present time. Gayla Lamont and Colter Lamont were still together, though somewhat fading in their popularity. Concurrently, Kerry had spread his wings and gained his greatest fame ever-- as an author of life-advice books which BALANCED grace with accountability. None of his books mentioned Gayla; there was no need. Living well was indeed the best revenge.

THIS plot arc, at least, now comes up to April of 2024. In the interval, Kerry had found a FAITHFUL wife, a woman who had been faithful in one marriage till her husband's death. This was Adelaide Kapstein, the daughter of Lance and Shelley Heflin. After Marty Kapstein had died a hero's death in the defense against Flatnose, the widow had made a career of creating skin-care products. Adelaide's daughter Galina was now seven years old, very good-natured; and Kerry's children had all warmly accepted her along with her mother.

April of 2024: Kerry enjoyed the satisfaction of being a prominent speaker at a Christian conference in Nashville: the first time he had come to Tennessee since Gayla had left him. Adelaide's organic lotions and soaps were available for purchase in the lobby. The organizers had been extremely hush-hush about surprise guests for Saturday evening.

At the agreed moment, Adelaide came to the microphone. "Everyone on the stage, move outward. Everyone in the seats, don't be alarmed; this is the good part; and all of you already know who and what the Hallpasscardeans are. Friends, we give you KING GARRYOWEN AND QUEEN SPRIGGA." The Dentfloss Bridge briefly and brightly manifested, and there stood Earth's benevolent neighbors in full regalia.

"Master Kerry Chatfield, thank you for inviting us," boomed Garryowen. "Within the last five of your years, your Earth-variant has received enough outside visitors that some your beliefs are affected. Meaning no offense, your short lifespan in mortal existence has limited your opportunity to gain perspective. Let me cut to the pursuit. All of you grew up knowing that we Hallpasscardeans dwelt in your star system, and familiarity made us acceptable. Recently, however, OTHER 'outsiders,' friendly and otherwise, came to your attention. Master Chatfield, and others like him, have surely been confronting honest questions from your friends and students on Mediumgard. Maybe we can help, as persons who have more than once intervened to save human lives. My Queen, please share your own thoughts with our hearers."

"Thank you, Garryowen, yes. Mediumgarder friends, the heart of the matter is that we nominal immortals ARE NOT OMNIPOTENT. The material universe already existed long before any of US existed. The difference between Mediumgarders and Hallpasscardeans is almost NO difference, compared with the Creator's difference from BOTH of our kinds." A small gesture told her husband that she had said her piece.

"Well spoken, my Queen." Then Garryowen leaned slightly forward, gazing into the audience. "Prince Lowerkey, Master Hackman, kindly join us now at the podium."

An ordinary-looking Earthman, Oliver Hackman from the American Midwest, used his Fuss power to levitate himself and a seat- neighbor into the air and onto the stage. His tall, oddly handsome companion was a Loki-variant from the Third Galaxy. His counterpart Croaki of Hallpasscard had sided with Titan Flatnose in Mediumgard's most frightful war; after Croaki died a deserved death, Garryowen's entire household had gladly welcomed the good-aligned Lowerkey.

"Good people, you know my history. The fact that I externally resemble a traitor, but myself am on the side of good, is a suitable illustration for Master Chatfield's Christian preaching. It could fit with Saint Paul's verse about all things becoming new."

"It so happens that I already HAVE used it," Kerry interjected, which evoked immediate applause.

 

[Copperfox]

Lowerkey patted Oliver Hackman on the shoulder, telling the audience: "You people also remember the visit by an off-world human called Mopey-One Kanoli. The energy he commands is now also commanded by this gentleman from your own Midwest. Oliver, it's your microphone."

"Thank you, Prince Lowerkey. Ladies and gentlemen, those of you who venture to study our own world history realize that a large component of the Never-Stopping Story relates to a movie franchise on Original Earth. The man who conceived those movies initially appeared to be toying with specifically Christian metaphors; but he soon switched to an all-out pantheist-monist worldview instead. And since Judeo-Christian thinking is ALL ABOUT the spiritual condition of INDIVIDUALS, that movie series was thereafter firmly incompatible with Biblical thought. But precisely because we 'variant people' all have a REAL existence, we, and the Hallpascardeans, and Master Kanoli, are not compelled to subscribe to any sort of 'everything is everything else' doctrine. We all are individuals, eligible to live on after death AS ourselves."

From someplace, a bitter female voice cried, "REEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

Then, appearing on the stage and in Oliver's face, there stood the ugly, frumpy she-fiend Headless Lizzie. Her head was attached at the moment, yelling: "You misogynistic worm! Do you expect anyone to believe that your Bible-bleep has ANY OTHER purpose than to use and oppress women?? Are you covering up the REAL FACTS about how your Jesus personally stoned the adulterous woman to death? May Mother Universe condemn you for your male hatefulness!"

Oliver tried to Fuss-push Lizzie away, but she wasn't an evil demigoddess for nothing; she toppled him off his feet with a flabby but powerful hand. She would then have stomped on him, but Lowerkey pounced, pulled her away, and twisted one of her arms behind her. In response, her head did not explode, but did detach itself and head-butt him. So Garryowen intervened, grabbing Lizzie's levitating head and closing one hand over its top. "Re-attach yourself, empty head, and stand still, or I'll cut your HEART out. --Good, now shut up and listen.

"My people were strictly forbidden to try to change the re-enactment of the Bible events on this or any other Earth. Yeshua's atoning death is one event, which cannot be altered. And He did NOT stone the adulterous woman. You profess to care about women, but you are as much a stranger to femininity as you are to honesty. Now, listen well, if you wish to live; yes, >I< am quite capable of killing you. And my magic birds have kept me informed of how much malicious troublemaking you commit in many worlds, by lying and in worse ways.

"On every Earth-variant which includes a version of Japan, it is a fact that Japan's pre-Buddhist religion exalted a GODDESS, Amaterasu, as the absolute Supreme Being. Yet this did not at all deter Japanese men from subjugating mortal women. Likewise, the Christian faith recognizing a Heavenly FATHER is no guarantee that women in a Christian society will be enslaved.

"In fact, Christian women on several versions of Earth have USED faith in a Father God as a weapon against MEN. The basic approach is for the women to argue that mortal men are FAILING TO EQUAL the perfect goodness of God-- while the women, BY being female, are excused from the imagined competition. If any non-original Earth has a version of the Original Earth novelist Lori Chapman, you can see how she makes the male characters useless clowns."

"All right," said Lizzie, trying now to sound reasonable. "Just let me leave, and I'll go search for an Earth-variant which has Lori Copeland."

Garryowen allowed her to stand up. "Look in Christian bookstores for her series 'Men of the Saddle.' It's a deliberate bait-and-switch: she pretends to offer an adventure including brave, smart, capable men who can handle a crisis; but what you get is a doofus who KNOWINGLY WALKS RIGHT INTO the spraying range of a skunk."

That sounds like the perfect novel to me, thought Headless Lizzie, and fled the place once the King of Hallpasscard released her.

 

[Copperfox]

Knowing what comprehensive surveillance assets Hallpasscard enjoyed, Headless Lizzie didn't stay on Mediumgard. Hopecrusher Central identified for her another Earth-variant where a version of the soft-male-bashing novelist existed. It was none other than the well-known Seedubb. Lizzie kept a low profile, but had a fine time in libraries, reading supposedly-Christian feminist fiction whose only real purpose was to argue that men were dweebs and women walked on water. Eventually she felt ambitious again.

She cast her eye on Seedubb's version of the state of Kansas. Hopecrusher Central also told her about Chip Thursday, the senior state cop who had found a faithful wife during adventures in the Dune-based sub-reality. She would avoid him, since he was knowledgeable about aliens. Instead of doing anything that would affect the highway patrol, she mustered her weaselly persuasion ability, and went to the headquarters of the city police in Topeka. Seeing that the Topeka of Seedubb had a female police commissioner boosted Lizzie's optimism, so she magically tampered with a database to give herself an appointment.

Like so many people on Original Earth, Janet Philbreck assumed that whatever was in a database (unless criminals were known to have broken into the files) must be true. So she accepted that a space alien called Lizzie Frotmu had an appointment. "Frotmu" meant "headless" in a language known to Lizzie; and like every Seedubb Earthling, Janet Philbreck had long since accepted extraterrestrials as a fact of life.

"Commissioner Philbreck, thank you for seeing me. I believe the appointment message explained my reason for calling on you?"

Janet nodded. "It says that you're from the same galactic sector as Up-Side Master Yoga-Rug, the good-aligned Fuss user who mentored Prince Groan Starr. Groan Starr and his wife Princess Vixen did nothing but good when they were on our Earth, and Yoga-Rug himself has assisted remotely with reducing crime in America; so I'm interested in whatever you mean to share-- though I'm surprised that you've reached out on the local rather than federal level."

Lizzie smiled, forcing it not to be her usual nasty smirk. "It's an effort not to be overbearing. I have already messaged your new Just-Us League, the Teen Tryouts, Spark Laboratories, and the government of Tatlantis, to let them know what I'm doing: a sort of professional courtesy." (Lizzie understood the concept of hiding something in plain sight.) "I merely have a suggestion to offer; it is for you alone to reject it or accept it. If it is tried and yields good results, other cities may choose to adopt it."

"I'm listening, and recording."

"Excellent. As a woman who has refused to wear a Handmaid suit, has broken the glass ceiling, has denounced patriarchal micro-aggressions, and is confronting the good-old-boys network which wants women to be silenced and intimidated, you have what it takes to make this work. I am recommending the creation of a new investigative team, to consist exclusively of female detectives, crime-lab researchers and prosecutors. It would be called the Specious Victims Unit."

For the first time in this meeting, Commissioner Philbreck was taken aback. "Excuse me, but perhaps your English-language assimilation is flawed? We already have a SPECIAL Victims Unit, investigating specific types of crime committed against female victims."

"I know you do. But the SPECIOUS Victims Unit would be a logical extension. Your world may have the saying: 'Extremes move the center.' Because misogynistic tyrannical males are still dominating your institutions and your media, protecting every male predator and silencing women's complaints, it may take a sort of judicial shotgun volley to turn things around."

"All right, what ammunition will your shotgun fire?"

"A proper karmic balance. Men on practically every Earth-variant hold monopoly control over all media. Law enforcement and the courts can become a counterweight. We, I mean you, can select prominent men who deserve to suffer for whatever reason, and MAKE a special-victims case against them. Whatever well-coached woman you recruit to accuse such a man, she'll simply be standing in for all wammuns, I mean women, who have suffered oppression."

Janet Philbreck's jaw sagged, but she regained control before she replied.

"Miss Frotmu, where you come from, do they teach the distinction between 'points of law' and 'points of fact'?"

"Um, I guess that would have to mean that you choose the facts which will validate the necessary law."

"No, actually. Both elements are part of reaching a morally right conclusion. A point of law means: 'Such-and-such action is illegal.' But a point of fact means: 'We have to determine whether the defendant ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING which violated this law.' Throughout history, stupid people have allowed themselves to blur this distinction. They have repeatedly said, in effect, 'Simply because this action IS a crime, we KNOW that the defendant DID COMMIT the crime. If I'm not mistaken, you're urging me to accuse men of crimes against women, and ASSUME THEM GUILTY just because the crimes are bad."

"Of course, what else? Like I said, extremes move the center. Shall we begin planning?"

"We'll begin something, for sure." Janet rubbed a ring she was wearing on her right hand. The very next instant, two costumed figures, a caped man and a woman with flame-red hair, materialized beside the commissioner's desk.

"We dropped in to join the discussion," said the woman. "This man is Doctor Unusual, and I'm called Marysuefire."

"I know exactly who and what you are, HEADLESS LIZZIE," said Unusual. "Commissioner Philbreck was right to alert us about possible tampering with your scheduling software. There will be no Specious Victims Unit. There will be no lynching of innocent men. Your pretense that women are chained and mistreated is ridiculously stupid-- on any planet which has Marysuefire living on it. Have you never heard how she needed to control her power carefully all the time, to AVOID DESTROYING ENTIRE WORLDS?"

The Commissioner grinned coldly. "Looks like this game ends with a would-be queen being the one checkmated."

It was already a peculiar feature of Lizzie's face that her eyes, nose and mouth were abnormally close together, leaving vast spaces of chin and forehead below and above them. Suddenly the eyes pressed even farther down, and the upper lip even farther up. Doctore Unusual sensed what was coming. Even Marysuefire would not be immune to an extra-forceful sonic blast, let alone Janet Philbreck. So the sorceror created a soundproof containment field around the evil alien, just before she uttered a mighty "REEEEEEEEE!!!!" and her head exploded again. Then she was gone.

"Is she dead?" asked Marysuefire as the headless alien faded from sight.

"No, only teleported or the equivalent. She can't actually kill anyone herself, not directly; but she herself is virtually immortal. She'll go searching in other worlds, for other women who are less intelligent and less honest than the Commissioner here."

 

[Copperfox]

Having reconstituted her head again, Headless Lizzie warp-jumped back to Planet Kantpoo just long enough to make a hasty survey of conditions there. This passed enough time that King Garryowen and other troublesome good guys would surely have concluded their visit with Kerry Chatfield. Then Lizzie warp-jumped to the eastern hemisphere of Mediumgard: specifically, to the African kingdom of Wonkabara.

By the way, fictional nations in versions of our world have to GO SOMEPLACE. Having learned what falsehoods a certain movie promoted about the nation of Dahomey, I've now decided that Mediumgard has Wonkabara in that space instead of Dahomey.

Lizzie had ascertained that Plaque Panther was over in Kenya, helping the Kenyans against incursions by Sudanese Islamists. She figured that it was a good time to attempt subverting Panther's brilliant sister, Princess Shurthingy. She was at work in her laboratory, studying diverse alien organisms which King Garryowen had provided her for study. The Hallpasscardean physician Welbymark had certified all these organisms as harmless to Earthly life.

"Princess Shurthingy, I am called Lizzie; I come from a higher dimension. Where I come from, we don't allow brutal primitives, who worship an imaginary bearded thunderer, to suffocate the divinity of women. I'm offering you the chance to be, in practice, the queen you deserve to be."

Shurthingy frowned. "You assume that I want to be a reigning monarch. I want to be what I am, a scientist; and my brother supports everything I do. As a matter of fact, I heard about your intrusion on that Christian event. We aren't Christians here, but we respect Christians. Do you think you can make me hostile to them? Or to the Hallpasscardians, who also respect Christians?"

Lizzie's eyes widened. "I'm not about hostility for its own sake, not against anyone. But I am FOR the rights of women to shake off their chains. Don't you want to be your own person at last?"

"What part of 'my brother supports everything I do' did you not understand?"

Lizzie harrumphed, actually phonetically SAYING, "Harrumph! Don't you see that Plaque Panther is only bribing you with research opportunities? He doesn't want you to realize how much better you are than he. The time has come for you to climb the ladder. Because he thinks he has you deluded, it'll be easy. You could mutate one of the organisms here, make your brother terminally sick with it, then pretend that he concealed his illness out of stupid caveman pride and refused to ask you for help. Then you can lawfully claim the throne of Wonkabara, and receive your rights at last as the fabulous goddess you are!"

Shurthingy sighed mightily. "What do you think makes women divine? A willingness to ASSASSINATE men who love us and treat us well?"

A cold male voice entered the conversation from behind Lizzie: the voice of Bleeder the Vampire Killer. "Panther and I are lucky my wife never took up your idea of womanhood, since we trust her with our health care. So she won't interfere with me if I do my own experiment." Turning, Lizzie beheld the superhero's swordpoint near her face. "I have power to slay major supernatural beings; maybe this extends to you."

There was no need for Shurthingy to do anything. Headless Lizzie winked out, not waiting to explode her head. But an irritating "REEEEEEEEEEEEE!" hung in the air for fifteen seconds after she vanished.

 

[Copperfox]

Now I'll revisit Chimpanzia, from which I'm pretty sure I said Traynrekk escaped to meet his fate at Zazdub World. Anyway, forget him.

As we pick up, the Directvidean System has already bidden a grateful goodbye to most of the special folks, e.g. Speedy Greyhoundus, who had successfully defended against Duke Terror. Even Chief Lefturklyde had returned to his homeworld of Anoxia; but some of his Orangutanoid soldiers had stayed to marry Chimpanzian females. These two races were genetically compatible, because the author said so.

The two mightiest protectors who still were on Chimpanzia right now were the demigod-level Ultraviolet Griffin, and the Heart Sapphire Jitra Pooklar, who was fully human apart from having a prehensile tail sprouting just high enough up that she could wear pants. Groan Starr & Company had wrapped up their latest Dune-reality business and were back on Planet Directvideo, joined by Duke Diskoduck and Count Havabeer.

Chimpanzian aviation development had gotten back on track. Hadrianus Tolpin, a clerk in the Chimpanzian Department of Transportation, had resumed working with the girl-ape test pilot Sedalia, whose lately-wedded husband Bansarios remained her mechanic. As we resume the action, we find this couple and Bansarios' father Lekravant being joined by Inspector Antilacor, Captain Pro Dashalong, and several background- character technicians from Directvideo and Waterpark.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You know what?" said Pro to the industrialist Lekravant. "There are populations within the Republic of Lots of Worlds, along with planets lately set free from the Empire of Evil Badness, which have no native-controlled aviation. You and your work force would be MORE suitable than we are to teach them the basics, and it would build up your world's diplomatic presence in the galaxy."

"Which our President Lisorda would surely approve," Lekravant replied. "And Diskoduck might pitch in to facilitate negotiations."

Antilacor frowned. "Might it not also attract more predators like Duke Terror?"

Pro shrugged. "I'm afraid we're already past the point of no return for your obscurity. But I expect that more Heart Sapphires will be glad to join Jitra in providing passive defense; and with my Republic in a safer state than it's been in many years, we could coordinate with your government and King Lowbrain for consent to have our cruisers patrol your area."

"I can't imagine our people objecting," said Hadrianus, "after so many of Major Tylus' troopers. and Lefturklyde's warriors, died so heroically defending us from Glukks and Barnsmell."

Sedalia drew close to her husband. "Once we have more test pilots trained up, what say WE join whatever delegation goes to meet people on low-technology worlds in the Republic?"

Bansarios kissed her. "A working honeymoon: I love it!"