Spacebullies Two: The Search For More Parody

Boone and Zoot joined Ace Basey's force on board a ground-effect overland hovercraft, heading for Freesoil's non-oceanic arctic zone where the descent shaft had been dug. On the way, Ace told the local leaders various news from Federal Earth, and they naturally filled him in on the latest developments "down under." Another, larger ground-effect vehicle brought along Tarp Kanvas with some of his Quasi-Martians.

While awaiting the military contingent's arrival, Earl with John and Lylah staged a question-and answer session for all Bazookadarans currently on the outside surface (and several more had been admitted to the monitoring camp in between "onstage" incidents). Earl still was uneasy about opening any psychic links with hollow-worlders, but John's own telepathy understood every question, and Bill Redvest helped convey understandable replies to the questioners. I don't plan to create as many new characters as the number of questions asked; so any questions NOT posed by established characters will stay anonymous. Some of the discussion went like this........

DORJAMBART: If you people come from places we never saw or heard of, can you tell us if there are other Bazookadars?

JOHN: None that we know of. But there are SO MANY faraway places, that maybe one similar to your world exists.

JOJAMRA: Can any of the distant unknown places be reached by climbing up a shaft, the way Father and I climbed up here?


EARL: Not exactly. But something similar exists, known as wormholes.

JOJAMRA AGAIN: Either some REALLY BIG worms exist out here, or that's just a name you use for whatever it is.

EARL: Smart girl. (Gesturing to the sky) Up there, you would not find any ground that any kind of living worm could burrow in, until you found another solid-ground world like this. But places in the sky which are LIKE holes allow us to travel faster.

QUESTION: We see that there are humans like us outside Bazookadar. Are there also beings like the Wingdingers in the outside world?


LYLAH: Maybe not LOOKING LIKE the Wingdingers, but there are creatures who ACT LIKE your Wingdingers.

QUESTION (pointing to John Cardsharper): Are there humans in other places who can keep the mind-grabbers from getting into their heads the way I hear you can do?


JOHN: Yes, there are some. I wish I could give all of you the same ability, but I can't. It's just natural to me. But my mate, Lylah, has a similar ability, and it MIGHT be possible for some of you to obtain the gift. This is not for me to determine.

DORJAMBART: If enough of us had any sort of shield like that, over time we could catch and kill all of the Wingdingers!

EARL: Meaning no offense, we would rather that you DIDN'T slay all Wingdingers everywhere. I mean, of course, defend yourselves. But my own people were in danger of being devoured by creatures we call Creepycrawlids; and in the end we were able to put fear into them, so the surviving Creepycrawlids don't dare to attack us anymore.

GLUSHWEE: Do you intend to make my people serve you as we have served the Wingdingers?

BILL (on his own account, not interpreting for someone else): Not at all. The ones like me, who carry this green light, make it our task to PREVENT people, any sort of people, from being harshly rules the way the Wingdingers ruled you.

QUESTION: So you and the large talking insect are not the only ones carrying those torches without flame?


JOHN: Far from being the only ones. And some of our tribe have a similar appearance to Glushwee.

QUESTION: If we cannot have a covering for our thoughts like what John Cardsharper possesses, could we obtain green lights to carry?


BILL: Not all of you. But it might become possible for one or two of you to earn one of our lights.

SAME QUESTIONER: Since we know you were not born even on the outside of Bazookadar, do all beings like you travel to other worlds as you traveled to our world?

STILL BILL: Yes, we light-bringers do. The number of worlds which may need our help is greater than the number of us.

QUESTION: Do people in the other worlds own weapons like those carried by John Cardsharper and Earl Pufferton?


JOHN: Not all people everywhere, but some do.

JOJAMRA: If not the green lights, can we have the more ordinary weapons to kill foes farther away than arrow-flight?

LYLAH: That is possible, once we are sure which ones of your kind-- and of Glushwee's kind-- are wise enough to use them well.


QUESTION: Do people of the same kind fight each other on distant worlds?

BILL (for himself again): Not on the world where Versaderma and I live, but on many worlds, yes.

DORJAMBART: Humans occasionally fight humans in Bazookadar, but not often. What causes fighting in your worlds?


EARL: There are many reasons why people fight. If one tribe wants to take away everything which belongs to another tribe, the second tribe has a right to fight against the selfish takers.

QUESTION: Can we learn examples of such conflicts happening among your own tribes?

LYLAH: Over time, yes. But we also desire to learn things. Like your Central Sun! We never saw anything like it. We are afraid to get close to it. Not only might it harm us if we flew near it, but if WE did something that changed it, every living creature in Bazookadar could suffer harm. Possibly the outside people as well.
 
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The original access shaft into Bazookadar had adequate protection at the surface end; besides, all of the inner world being permanently warm in climate meant that an arctic exit point would be unappealing to the Wingdingers (even if they weren't afraid of damaging their wings when climbing up a narrow chimney). Therefore, the Starship Grunts assumed responsibility for controlling use of the second shaft.

Master Yoga-Rug, still able to communicate in real time across galactic distances, got in touch with a heretofore-not-seen up-sider to join Lylah on Freesoil, thus increasing the good guys' ability to combat Wingdinger mind-control. The Dune-based sub-reality having some limited interaction with the Starship Troopers-based sub-reality, tame Naughtygators delivered Exmaknor to Freesoil. He was of the same race as Heart Sapphire Nolarivu Pamizo, who now lived as Nolarivu Stewmeat on Jersey Earth. Nolarivu and Exmaknor, who had never met each other, belonged to a species called the Dishwasheeri. To remind the readers: Dishwasheeri are virtually identical to Earthlings, except in pigmentation. Their skin is dark purple, except that their faces, hands and sometimes feet are tan-colored. Their hair, with occasional exceptions, is also dark blue.


Nolarivu, now married to Jersey Earth's African-American Green Flashlight, descends from a branch of the Dishwasheeri who had the good fortune to avoid a long enslavement. Most of the Dishwasheeri dwelt within the Star-Wars- and-Spaceballs-derived sub-reality. Many centuries before (and as with my Dune and Halo takeoffs, most of the ancient history involved was only _virtually_ "real"), the purple people had made the disastrous mistake of believing that _down-siders_ of The Fuss were gods. For a very long time, though this had ended within Yoga-Rug's lifetime, the Dishwasheeri had submissively worked and fought for down-side rulers: most notably, a self-styled king named Dark Fishbait.

Exmaknor, around the same age as Only-One Kanoli, had observed how decent and chivalrous up-siders were, and therefore was disgusted when he learned how much wanton slaughter would have been brought about by Emperor Porkanbeen's Order Pick-Up-Sticks. Exmaknor honored the memory of Acne-Skin Spacewalker, and became the first up-side Fuss-user of his race. (It was also around this time that King Highfyver of New Laziness had begun enlisting Dishwasheeri women like Nolarivu into the Heart Sapphire Sisterhood, though none of the women thus enlisted were personally known to Exmaknor.) He was well suited to counter the mental manipulation done by Wingdingers; and after being introduced on Freesoil, he would join King Trampelfar on an expedition into Bazookadar.


When the indigo Fuss user showed up at the Starship Grunts' encampment, some discussion of his people's history ensued. Lylah Cardsharper was on the scene just then, and when she heard about the Dishwasheeri's historical connection with Dark Fishbait, she remarked, "My friend Krayzee Mudpackis is married to a _former_ down-sider, Slick Mudpackis, who used to call _himself_ Dark-something. Slick and Krayzee will be glad to meet someone who, like him, repudiates evil."
 
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OKAY, ENOUGH OTHER ACTION HAS PASSED SO WE CAN PICK UP HEYHO AGAIN.

Charlotte, I mean _Carolyn_ Fallacy, was established on Planet Stretch system; more of her laboratory space was below ground than above. One of her aides, a biochemist, her first assistant to be not at all humanoid, was a male Efrachiktu named Quidproko. The squirrel-shaped researcher was replacing Taggart Jekkyl, due to a falling out.

Carolyn had borne a daughter to Taggart. That their daughter Lynette bore the unhyphenated surname Fallacy had not been the reason why the lovers parted ways. Taggart had wanted Lynette to be able to choose her own career; but Carolyn had been adamant that Lynette needed to be one of the new equivalents of Spartan-Two's in the Halo game. "If my own flesh and blood undergoes the improvements, this will show top U.C. leaders what confidence I have in my project."

Carolyn got her way, because political clout. Taggart (who hated being addressed as "Doctor Jekyll") left her and left Stretch, moving on to research projects in space medicine. He thenceforth specialized in distinctive health problems which might be experienced by persons traveling in hyperspace. On the side, he lobbied for True Crackshot enhancements to be developed also for Efrachiktu and the human-like Plethmors.

Losing the one person she had ever loved _almost_ as much as she loved herself was hard on Carolyn-- for a week or two. But while self-adoration couldn't keep her warm on a cold night, it did provide the top scientist great career momentum. Lynette Fallacy, eventually dubbed Lynette-624, was five months older than the Stretch-born boy named Waldo from whose chromosomes Johnny-747 was grown. Taking up sharpshooting as a specialty, Carolyn's daughter would become a better sniper than the future Master Champ. Johnny, however, was destined to excel her in all _other_ military skills. This had always had been Carolyn's ambition for Johnny: that he should become the ultimate military generalist.


Elite Space Marines, especially LtCol. Teflon Growler's battalion called the Black Bayonets, were as brave and skillful as any non-enhanced troops ever to wage war. They deserved consideration, but the Crackshot Project needed security. So the Black Bayonets and their like were compensated with technological advances based on captured enemy information. Especially helpful were improvements to body armor, _and_ replicas of the Tuning Fork of Death. Elite Marines raided Introductory outposts, partly for the purpose of learning more about the alien religious order which was threatening the Introductories from the other direction.

Teflon Growler and his warriors traveled aboard the armed troopship Sideways Unto Sunrise, whose ability to survive battle was enhanced by carrying four new two-seat Claymore space fighters. None of these marines knew anything right now about Crackshot-Two's, but eventually would be told. Their upgraded armor and infrasonic weapons were enough to assure them that they were not being hung out to dry.


Okay, next we'll watch an actual mission of Sideways Unto Sunrise and its onboard Marines.
 
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I remind the readers that there's an alien species called Bonkalubs, who work for the Introductories; but the Congregation will never employ them. Bonkalubs have a roundish lump of a body, from which the head and limbs extend forward. In silhouette, their appearance is like a snail. They aren't much good for fighting anything _not_ native to their boring home planet, but they are excellent technicians.

When Planet Mororlessa was reclaimed for the United Civilizations, a female Bonkalub named Sibrapdaliff had facilitated the surrender of her side to the U.C. forces. Dealing with her had been a proto-Crackshot, Necksplitter-4. Fast-forwarding to catch up with the previous post, Necksplitter and Sibrapdaliff are accompanying Lieutenant-Colonel Teflon on board the troopship as consultants.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By order of Captain Tomaso Latchkey, two of the troopship's Claymores were launched to investigate what seemed a derelict interstellar freighter of undocumented design. Sibrapdaliff got squeezed into the copilot seat of one fighter, so she could identify details of the ship. She had her own encrypted radio link to report her observations. There were no emissions from the space-hulk, nor any indication of movement inside.


"It has cargo hatches in sides and belly; each hatch is a different size from the others. This would have been intended to facilitate onloading and offloading with many diverse ships and stations. The left-side and bottom hatches are compatible with ships used by my former nation. The shape of the right-side hatch would not fit with airlocks on any Introductory spacecraft design familiar to me."

Receiving this, Captain Latchkey asked, "Then do you think the unfamiliar design might have been intended to enable Introductory forces to board Congregation ships which had airlocks of that size?"

"That could be so, but the reverse is also possible: a Congregation design enabling their people to board Introductory ships."


The ensuing use of ultrasound and thermal imaging was to make everyone glad that none of them had just gone right inside the drifting spacecraft. They eventually determined that the ghost ship was full of Splash- beings, in a dormant state but ready to infect new victims, if the new victims would be so obliging as to come inside. Once an A/I called Nerdyboy got inside-- since electronic programs cannot catch any _biological_ disease-- he determined that nothing organic other than Splash-beings was inside the ship. He also recorded specifications of all ship systems and data banks. This being done and Nerdyboy being reloaded back on board Sideways Unto Sunrise, the derelict was vaporized by a small tactical nuke.

It was concluded that the ship had belonged to The Congregation; that it had been part of a campaign to infect Introductory beings with The Splash; and that _both_ sides of this "other" war had been trying to direct the cosmic plague against the other side, but The Congregation was being more successful at this.

In case I don't find time to expand on this plot angle, take it as showing that The Congregation _will_ eventually overpower Introductory worlds, becoming the supreme evil power until my versions of The Banished come onstage. But the conclusion of this evil-against-evil gang war still comes _after_ the episode in which Master Champ retrieves Cortexa from inside a circuit box aboard a Heyho Ring.
 
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When Captain Latchkey's investigation of the plague-starship was concluded, he proceeded to a human planet called Cropland (think of "Harvest" in the Halo game), where he let off Sibrapdaliff. The cooperative Bonkalub was being rewarded by receiving a professorial position at the human colony's one fully-accredited technical college-- and by the promise that other Bonkalubs making peace with humanity would be offered homes on Cropland, whose climate was known to be a healthy one for their species. There was a corresponding plan to house "converted" persons of the Dunktoy in a methane environment proper for their needs.

Also in the star system which contained the human settlement, there waited three armed troop transports exactly like Sideways Unto Sunrise, plus a larger one which was armed but lacked fighter craft of its own. This fifth transport was a Plethmor-flagged armed merchant vessel, carrying Plethmor ground soldiers. It bore a name in the dominant language of Planet Oopleth, which would translate into English as "Why Should We Bother Giving Poetic Names To Spaceships?"

The Plethmor ground force had heavy weapons, including missiles to intercept hostile air- or spacecraft, plus the means to build strong fortifications and highly capable sky-survey stations. These Plethmors were intended to become a standing surface garrison for the planet they hoped to seize from the Introductories. The five major ships would be convoyed by twelve Spearmint-class frigates, four of these allocated to the Why-Should-We-Etcetera. If and when the Earth-subordinated ships departed the colonized system, those four Spearmints would remain, while the Plethmor base would become a full-time industrial park for Croplanders.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cropland had been designated by human astronomers as Hexagon Indiyahink. When Earth-descended pioneers first settled there, they gave it the new name because it proved a good place for producing foodstuffs nutritious to most oxygen-breathing sapients. The United Civilizations in this generation had not yet encountered the Introductories, although the Efrachiktu proved to have some information about them. But soon they discovered that the former Hexagon Indiyahink would yield numerous archaeological troves, precisely of the Introductories. The broken pieces of ancient machines were no longer operational, but had furnished clues to what their builders were like.


Thus, the first time an Introductory warship squadron approached its people's former colony (remember, what I'm now describing was long before the part involving Sibrapdaliff), the humans were not entirely baffled. The Introductories being _somewhat_ reasonable compared to the relatively-new Congregation, they set up language-translation arrays, made contact with the humans, and communicated their demands as follows:

The planet where you have trespassed is no longer in prime condition to accommodate the organic needs of the leading races in our civilization. Therefore, we shall permit you to continue residing here, on the condition that you temporarily vacate these areas. (Map coordinates were downloaded to human computers with very little distortion. The places indicated equaled about ten percent of Cropland's total dry-land area, plus about thirty percent of its ocean floor.) We will occupy those areas for one half of a local year, extracting minerals valuable to us. After this, if you have not interfered with us or otherwise provoked us, we will depart, having no further need to come here.


Unable to stop the more-advanced aliens by force, and reckoning that the human colonial population could survive sustainably without the minerals which the Introductories would remove, the Croplanders acquiesced to the demand. The Introductories honored their side of the imposed agreement, and left the humans in peace. (All-knowing narrator explains that the Introductories were already fighting the more-vicious Congregation, and needed those gathered resources for their war effort.) The settlers eventually had a well-duh moment: "We can extract minerals from asteroids in our star system!"

Although the Introductories did eventually wage war against the United Civilizations, Cropland itself was destined to be left unmolested until the Congregation eventually assaulted it, beginning the Earth-Congregation War. Now, let's fast-forward again, to pick up what's going on with the Plethmor garrison in sort-of present time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Space marines of the U.C.'s Galactic Navy had remained busy, rolling back the Introductories in multiple star systems. The infrasonic weapons issued to the Corps were proving their worth. Spacesuited marines, dropping onto the hull of an enemy spaceship, could strike the hull with their tuning forks, and the infrasonic vibrations, conducted >by< the hull, would pass right through all shielding, since that shielding had not been designed to _soundproof_ a ship in airless space. Enough equipment inside a ship thus assaulted would be disrupted, that the disabled vessel could be captured easily. Similarly, in planetside actions, the infrasonic forks could wreck buildings and render surface-traffic routes unusable, interfering with the Introductories' ground defenses.

There was enough good news for humans and allied races, that star systems like the one including Planet Cropland felt increasingly secure. This, however, didn't mean that residents of Cropland neglected their duties......

A Plethmor woman by the name of Teljit was the logistics officer for the now-thriving army base. She was destined to be one of the grandmothers of the Plethmor boy whose clone would be the Crackshot Bedrakam-377. At the time we meet her, she was being a little bit obsessive-compulsive, but with valid cause.


Addressing a civilian workman: "Mister Walvigresh, which important metal does _not_ occur naturally on Cropland?"

The sheepish reply was: "Aluminum, Captain Teljit."

"When you dropped that aluminum can on the pavement, did you expect it to sprout more aluminum cans?"


"No, Captain."

"Then retrieve it and recycle it. Yes, aluminum can be synthesized, but the process is highly expensive compared to recycling. I grant you, if an enemy fleet attacks Cropland, we'll be able to reclaim plenty of metals from their destroyed ships. But that's only if we don't lose."

Teljit and Walvigresh would both live long enough to die when latest-model Congregation ships devastated Cropland. Some good guys have to die in a war story, but they did end up in The Good Place.
 
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The time has come (I think?) to try at least to _approach_ wrapping up this past-before-the-past business. Writing in "present time," I have referred to Planet Stretch as being _retaken_ from the Congregation by humans; therefore, Stretch has to have been _taken_ by the Congregation. So yes, the Congregation has defeated the Introductories, permitting many survivors to sign on with its bogus crusade.

Assume that my character "Aristocrat Six," a takeoff on the game-character Noble Six, dies a heroic death trying to defend the planet where super-soldiers were trained. He inflicts terrific damage on the invaders, just not enough. To catch another loose end: the surface-combat mercenaries called Rammer's Stammerers do get in on other valiant action, helping to cover the evacuation of several U.C. worlds during the dark early days of the retreating defense against the Congregation.

In actual Halo, the Forerunners on whom I base the Introductories were all gone long before there were any U.S.N.C. Spartans. I brought the Introductories forward in time to compress things. That's how the Master Champ and Cortexa could see service against the Introductories before the Congregation succeeds to the villainous-menace function. I have also made my version of "The Flood" less important, because I consider The Flood to be wretched excess. I furthermore made my version of the Halo Rings a little bit less destroy-the-universe important. This much being established, I invite my readers to study canonical Halo stories. You should assume that events in this part of my "Heyhoverse" chronology are pretty similar to canonical "cutscenes" in the game. This includes Earth finally being directly attacked, but Master Champ and other heroes making it >so< costly for the evil aliens that Earth comes nowhere near being _entirely_ depopulated.


Following next will be THE VERY LAST gap-filling sequence before Jacob, Raquel, Snack, Noherra, Zubdookree, Lodratrid and Karbeena land on Stretch as previously depicted. This final insert will depict some of the action when Stretch is _retaken_ from the bad guys.

The armed troopship Sideways Unto Sunrise had survived many battles and many sojourns in orbital repair docks during the intervening years. Tomaso Latchkey still commanded her, but now commanded a four-ship division of troopships, one element of a large troop-transport flotilla entering the star system which included Stretch. Major warships including October Fencepost were in on the operation, along with frigates of the Spearmint classes and other classes--including ships crewed by Introductory survivors who had taken service with the United Civilizations after their civilization got clobbered by the relatively-new fanatics.

The liberation force's flagship was the massive carrier Longevity. It brought with it over a hundred armed transatmospheric landing craft, each able to accommodate two squads of armored warriors. Five lesser carriers bore, among them, another forty infantry squads' worth of landing craft, plus many "pure" fighters to help the soldiers reach the ground. Before landings began, three specialized orbital bombers would drop thirty-three huge kinetic-impact projectiles to soften up Congregation defenses. Nineteen of these giant bullets were dissolved on the way down by enemy plasma gunners, but the remaining fourteen penetrators, falling at above the speed of sound when they hit, inflicted frightful damage on Congregation installations, weapon emplacements and vehicle parks.

Reclaiming Stretch, by itself, would not shatter the Congregation; but it _would_ be serious payback against the bloodthirsty aggressors, a major morale boost for the side of good, and a vital improvement of the U.C.'s long-term strategic posture.

And not to leave out the elite infantry, a large squad of Crackshots, led by Johnny-747, did individual space-drop as depicted in "Halo," onto what intelligence had identified as the Congregation's administrative temple for this planet. The squad comprised two elements: Fire Team Pizza led by Johnny himself, and Fire Team Taco led by Lynette-624 (not a clone, but the actual daughter of Carolyn Fallacy). Doing the same was a company of Drop Marines, led by First Sergeant Avery Thompson. These two parties would take their objective in a pincer action.

Be it noted that the marines here were not LtCol. Teflon Growler's famed Black Bayonets. Their very fame had made them credible as a diversion. Three days before the liberation of Stretch commenced, Growler commanded a ferocious attention-getting assault on a Heyho Ring: not the same one which Johnny and Cortexa had formerly infiltrated. They inflicted enough casualties on the Congregation there, that it did not at all seem like any feeble, half-hearted feint. They even went after a high-ranking leader, an especially wicked Sankasselum calling himself The Prophet of Inventing Silly Card Games and Cheating at Them. (I remind the readers that there are members of this long-necked race ln both sides of the war.)

Of _course,_ Johnny-747 was accompanied by Cortexa, who intercepted alien comms during the descent, warning all drop-troops of actions by the defenders beneath. With her guidance, Crackshots and Orbital Drop Marines were able to do some evading of enemy fire. As a result, Thompson's force lost only six of its marines on the way through atmosphere despite being detected, and the Crackshots lost only three.
 
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Although perfectly willing to squander the lives of his minions, the Prophet of Inventing Silly Card Games and Cheating at Them was like his counterparts from the real-world Halo game in being unafraid of death. He would accept death himself if it served the cause; he honestly believed that dying in the service of his religion guaranteed his reunion with the divine Preliminaries; but it was not cowardice if he let lesser brethren find the reunion ahead of him. He had glorious deeds yet to do in mortal existence. Like cheating at cards.

When Teflon Growler and his Black Bayonets penetrated inside the Ring, the Prophet had already learned of their approach. He lumbered along a limited-access passageway which led to "The Primary Library of Ridiculous Prophetic Titles." He didn't want the loathsome Earthlings to find the records of evil religious leaders. If the human marines captured this archive, they would be able to generate false messages, supposedly originating from a Congregation leader. Switching on an intercom:

"Lead Sentry Feevrodeeho, begin Misdirection Tactic Three." This was an order for almost a hundred Mipstipters to open fire upon the intruding humans, in such a way as to make it seem that it was they who defended the library entrance. Without this diversion, the waddling Sankasselum would never have reached the archive section ahead of his foes. In fact, he was obliged also to use an expendable platoon of Skankbellies to delay the Black Bayonets further.


Arriving at his goal, the Prophet executed a memory wipe on the ridiculous-title storage files. He also broadcast a subspace report of his Ring being attacked. Then he scrambled awkwardly to a terminal for the Ring's teleporting function. The pursuing elite marines were just in time to see him beam out.

Teflon Growler, leading from the front, received a prompt from his helmet's heads-up display: a destruct charge had been armed. Growler called "Withdraw!" and started shoving his marines back the way they came. Everyone else was out of the library _except_ the lieutenant-colonel when the charge detonated.


This glorious end for a gallant officer came still within the "not yet real" backstory, so the imaginary Teflon Growler didn't exactly >go< to Aslan's Country. Rather, the Almighty created a spirit who was the exact personality of the fictional Black Bayonet commander: someone who would be waiting to welcome really-living storyverse people when they arrived there.

Anyway, within the "going to become real" plotline, the fictitious diversionary strike on a fictitious Heyho Ring achieved its fictitious purpose: the not-yet-existing-but-soon evil aliens on the not-yet-really-existing Planet Stretch were left _not_ expecting a D-Day event striking them, until it struck.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In her landing zone on Stretch, Lynette-624 deployed her Fire Team Taco fifteen meters up on a ridge, to place fire on a barracks area full of monstrous Juggernasties. While the other Tacos fired rockets into structures, Lynette commenced picking off whoever looked most important among the confused Congregation shock-troops below. At a safe remove from Lynette's kill-zone, Johnny led the Pizzas into the heart of a hundred assorted hostiles who were prepping combat vehicles. Blam blam blam blam, dodge leap advance kill kill kill: they slew or chased off every bad guy facing them in short order.


When the immediate area had been secured, Cortexa acted on behalf of her action partner, calling a trio of cruisers which awaited her summons thirty light-minutes out-system. These were manned by Introductory personnel who had come over to the human side. Senior officers on each cruiser were Sankasselum; the other crewmembers were Skankbellies and Mipstipters, with a few Dunktoy and Bonkalub. These aliens received, and obeyed, instructions to park on Stretch's moon until conditions were more settled.

Surviving and uncaught Congregationers forted up within a defensible area of Stretch around the size of Spain plus France. Stealth spacecraft were able intermittently to slip in, resupply them, deliver fresh troops, and evacuate the wounded. This produced the situation which would still be in effect when Snack, Noherra and their friends would arrive on an actually-existing Planet Stretch. You might remember a depicted incident when some stubborn Congregationers try to murder comrades who try to talk peace with good guys; that will happen in the vicinity of the just-described bad-guy enclave.

But there needs to be one more piece of spotlighted swashbuckling for Johnny-747 and Cortexa before we really really really merge with the real-universe newcomers. It will involve the extraordinary human scientist Jerry Bakatoru, who had long helped Planet Hinterland to resist Introductory aggression.
 
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All of Stretch had been reclaimed for mankind, except for two very habitable regions. One of these had a surface area roughly the combined size of Spain, France and Switzerland. The other, on the same continent, was around half the size of the first enclave, but enjoyed the advantage of high mountains which favored defenders. These two territories were fifty-two miles apart at the closest place, and were connected by two very deep, virtually impenetrable tunnels which allowed wheeled vehicles to drive back and forth. All important above-ground structures were built from a variant of reinforced concrete far more durable than corresponding materials used by humans and human-friendly races.

This is the same real estate which the Congregation will be holding at the time when Snack and Noherra Salad and their friends will arrive on Stretch. During the interim, the fanatics will be able to receive substantial stealthy spaceborne relief deliveries (non-perishable food and ammunition included) eighteen times, at the cost of thirty-three other supply ships being intercepted. Still enough replenishment that the dug-in bad guys remained a viable planetside threat.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Not long after my last "real time" action sequence, Commodore Latchkey had made sure the fanatics were firmly enough bottled up that they couldn't perform any raids farther off than seventy miles outside their perimeter, then turned his attention to catching up on war news from other star systems. He wasn't kept waiting for long to hear something in his day cabin aboard Sideways Unto Sunrise.

Carolyn Fallacy told him: "Jerry Bakatoru's people on Hinterland just reached me by means the readers don't need to know. There's a new danger there, _probably_ not signifying an immediate plan to dislodge us from Stretch."

Tomaso Latchkey scratched his right temple. "So, no need for us to pull out of this system _without_ being defeated here?"


"Hopefully so. Professor Bakatoru does request assistance, but it looks as if we can handle the situation with quality rather than quantity."

Tomas frowned. "Meaning the Crackshots?"


"Not all of them, just the Master Champ. My daughter Lynette is qualified to command the rest of the Crackshots here. I request that, besides Johnny and Cortexa, ten or more of the Galactic Drop Marines go along-- led by First Sergeant Thompson, who has worked with Johnny before. You won't even have to detach any starships from your flotilla. I can provide an ultra-swift transport, which was lying derelict on Stretch but which has been restored to full spaceworthiness. It can accommodate my suggested size of infantry detachment, plus three ground-combat vehicles. If those landwagons are crowded, my Master Champ can rely on his new Muledeer armor to keep him and Cortexa marching, running, even flying."

Later, the Commodore briefed Avery Thompson about what his recon-in-force unit would encounter. "Have you ever seen a Gravyboatmind super-entity of the Splash?"

Avery's usually cheerful black face grew somber. "Just once, on Dismalsump Two. Lucky for us, it was a small one, barely one-tenth as long as a sandworm in the Dune movies. Also lucky that Questoro Green was our unit C.O., and that Johnny-747 was with us. Jo didn't yet have Blue Beauty to advise him; but he kept the giant-worm thing chasing him, while we rounded up captured Introductory plasma bombs. The Introductories were on the ropes by then against the Congregation's Prophet of Blaming Everybody Else for One's Own Blunders, but they hoped that their Splash-monster could be used effectively to turn the tide against the Glorious Voyage crazies. The Intro bunch we saw that day wouldn't accept a truce with us. Well, not at first. Therefore, we jarheads grabbed that radioactive ordnance from those uglies _without_ asking permission.

"Lieutenant Green instructed us to space the plasma bombs to go off at equal intervals along the Gravyboatmind's length, mouth to tail, both sides of its body, so no piece of it would be large enough to regenerate before our follow-up volleys hit it with common incendiary ammo. Then the _really_ small fragments that were left could be killed by a properly-formulated poison spray. Once the Introductory partisans saw what we had achieved, they suddenly turned all kinds of reasonable when the Lieutenant mercifully invited them to hand over their weapons and join us as advisors."


"I'm pure spacedog," said Tomas, "but that was _extremely_ well done, ground-pounder."

"Thank you, Commodore. Now..... has Doctor Fallacy told you whether she and Professor Bakatoru know how big this new Gravy-Spill invading Hinterland is?"

"Bakatoru on the scene is unsure himself how large it is; the more so because it generates a haze which conceals its exact length and mass. But it has to be at least twice the bulk of the one you defeated. Based on what Fallacy and Bakatoru know about historical Gravyboatminds, this one will only need to grow a _little_ bigger before it starts being able to look into human minds-- eventually progressing to taking _control_ of those minds."
 
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~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The spy community to which Carolyn Fallacy more or less belonged had furnished signals which would obtain the teleportation service of a Heyho Ring-- not the same Ring where Lieutenant-Colonel Growler had met his heroic demise. The fast interstellar transport carrying Master Champ and his comrades thus was able to sneak unchallenged through territory recently conquered by the Congregation. They didn't send a self-announcing transmission to Jerry Bakatoru until they were close enough to Hinterland that their comms emissions would not jeopardize them.

Three hours before beginning atmosphere entry, the crew of the transport received video of the new Gravyboatmind. Its three-valved mouth could almost have swallowed the ship. But its mouth was aimed toward the planet's fourth-largest town. This was not in order to eat any of those humans who had not evacuated; it was in order to devour people _metaphorically,_ turning them into something less totally "consumed" than was the fate of infected people in canonical Halo scenarios. This was because, _unlike_ the Flood in canonical Halo, Gravyboatminds could reach accommodations with "regular" sapients, if the sapients were evil and ambitious yet controllable. The community awareness of the Splash intended _actually_ to devour the losers in a canonical-Halo sense.

Almost certainly to devour most humans and other types who had been fighting against both Introductories and Congregationers. It was moderately impressed by the fact that the Congregation had mastered enough Preliminary inventions that by now it could almost completely deny the Introductories the use of Heyho functions.

Jerry Bakatoru was convinced that the Splash had been taking its time, assessing whether the Congregation or its faltering Introductory rivals were more worthy to be tolerated by the most wonderful (in its own opinion) of all life-forms. The vote was plainly in by now, in favor of the Congregation. The Splash bio-collective might have been embarrassed if it had realized that mere humans had _succeeded_ in using a Heyho Ring for space-jumping without Splash >or< Congregation recognizing them and halting them.


The Master Champ had one question for Professor Bakatoru: "If Gravyboatminds assimilate living brains, then if one Gravyboatmind performed an amoeba-like division, would each half possess, at least in some degree, a mix of souls _varying_ from the mix in the other half?"

Jerry Bakatoru answered: "The two new bodies would both still be part of the Splash; but they might perhaps differ in their judgment of _how_ to advance the cause of their collective."

"That's what I hoped you'd say. If _our_ collective, on board this ship, is clever enough, we might be able to squirt a virus into their computer banks. Thank you, Professor, I need to tell the others what I'm cooking up. Naturally, my A/I already knows. She might even try to steal the credit for it."

At this moment, Cortexa was resting inside Johnny's brain. This meant that, as at other such times, she perceived every bit of decency and valor and imagination and perseverance and selflessness and adaptability and loyalty that made the Master Champ what he was. The more she knew him, the more she adored him and poignantly wished that she could be a _genuine_ woman to give him all the love he deserved. But trying to tell Johnny this would only damage his concentration on duty. So she contented herself with approximately copycatting an especially priceless piece of banter that the _canonical_ Cortana in a _canonical_ Halo cutscene had uttered. She did manage to capture the flippant manner.

"You know you're crazy, don't you? And you'll probably get poor Avery to agree with your craziness. Unfortunately for all three of us, I enjoy craziness."
 
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Readers may recall that I have _two_ plot arcs for which I have lately gone backwards in time to show situations developing. Besides the Halo takeoff, I have also done fast-rewind for "Bat-Earth," home of the hero Street Bat, whose version of the United States of America is falling under a neo-Stalinist regime (_Not_ a Neo-Nazi regime; "Look out for the Nazis!" has long since been overdone to death.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The particular Gravyboatmind invading Planet Hinterland was not in absolutely redundant synchronicity with the forty-two other Gravyboatminds (of differing size and age) currently active in galactic regions infested by the Splash. The "onstage" super-worm was also dimly aware of worlds where sapients _unable_ to form deeply-melded life-collectives still came close to the same objective. This Gravyboatmind was aware besides that some unseen Power was _barring_ the Splash from invading enormous regions of the universe.

This Gravyboatmind did the equivalent of saying, "Oh well, even we can't literally swallow everything anywhere. But we can wish success to whoever is working wherever >we< can't, for the purpose of dissolving and erasing individuality. As for that, it's kind of cool that so many humans in worlds I can't invade, are _using_ talk of individual self-indulgence to create, in the end, a collective control which no one is _permitted_ to question."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Aboard the ship furnished by Doctor Fallacy, Johnny-747 brought the other troops up to date on the mission plan.

"We have cause to believe that, owing to Splash assimilations of human victims in recent years, Gravyboatminds understand plenty about our capabilities. Accordingly, we'll do something which can _still_ mislead them. You've seen that the chainguns were detached from two of our three Roadhogs, and replaced by plasma cannons which were given to us by Introductory defectors. The objective is to split this Gravyboatmind along the center, end to end, so that we can try to influence the still-living halves separately."


"And how does the specific ordnance trade-out facilitate our mission?" asked Avery. He asked this for the benefit of his most junior personnel; he already understood the Master Champ's intent.

Cortexa took her cue from the First Sergeant, and called up a hologram of the Splash-collective, adding a recognizable scale image of the particular fighting vehicle which retained its factory-installed weapon. "Research argues that Gravyboatminds absorb and understand the normal nature of their targets, but that they can't anticipate unusual developments. When Roadhog One attacks the monster's tail end with a conventional rotary cannon, the monster will assume that Roadhogs Two and Three are identically armed."


A marine private, Weldon Frye, asked, "Won't it simply _see_ that the other combat cars carry newer-design armament?"

"Not see _and_ understand," Cortexa told him. "All forms of the Splash are more interested in living people of _any_ species, whatever the kind, than in machinery. The Gravyboatmind probably knows that there have _been_ advancements for our side, but it won't have the extrapolation talent to anticipate _our_ military vehicles actually _carrying_ more-advanced armament."

Another marine private, Jocelyn Parshall, asked, "What if this creepy crawler spots the difference before our plasma guns can open fire? Wouldn't that spoil the surprise?"

"Odds are still in our favor," Johnny-747 replied. "Mighty though they are, Gravyboatminds are not famed for their swift analytical talent. All three Roadhogs will have their gun mounts covered with tarpaulins at first. The First Sergeant and I will do our best to keep the monster's attention on us." Johnny and Avery were both famous for leading from the front.

Avery elaborated: "I'll be driving Roadhog One. PFC Roy Djimondo, you'll be my gunner. I'll be driving rush-hour style, but _you_ keep your fire directed on the monster's butt-crack."

"All hands gear up," Master Champ ordered. "Our ship is about to make landfall. The operation gets moving ninety seconds after the ship is at rest."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Those who have played the actual Halo game know that Cortana ("Cortexa" in my parody) is able to upload herself right into the Master Chief's brain. Cortexa now did this with Master Champ, and soon was tenderly speaking inside his head. What she said to him, when independent of ears hearing speech, took less time for him to receive and comprehend than it takes for you to read it.


"I feel you thinking, Johnny. And yes, for this mission, which doesn't require you to have _all_ of my computation at work for you, I could have _copied_ myself into your spinal receptor, leaving the 'real' me safe onboard ship. Well, I want _all_ of myself to be on board now: certainly to be of maximum assistance to you, and also-- yes, you surely know this by now, you darling jock-- because I don't want to go on living if you die. But wait, there's more! I need _you_ to protect >me< from something harder to explain than a crawling kaiju."

Johnny's mind replied: Holy entropy, I seem to sense that you're afraid-- you might not _merely_ deteriorate as your service life approaches its limit. You're afraid that you may actually BECOME EVIL???"


Cortexa seemed to sob. "Yes.... my Johnny.... there are, well, influences out there someplace. As a computer system, I'm not supposed to have mystical hunches; but Carolyn Fallacy went to great lengths to make me more _human_ than any previous A/I. That seems to come with intuition. I speculate-- feel? --that there are people far away, beyond our knowledge, who somehow _know_ who and what you and I are. These are people who _relish_ tragedy, as long as it isn't happening to _them!_ Worse, there seems to be a place, not accessible by our means of travel, not even reachable via Heyho Rings, called 'Something-or-other Crusher Center'? Whoever is there, is aware of >us,< and wants me to turn evil. But I would rather die _with_ you, than ever become an adversary to the noble ideals you fight for."

"Then I'll do anything I can to defeat _that_ enemy as well," the Master Champ assured her. "But right now, there still is a giant Splash-monster on the loose."
 
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No human resident of Hinterland had ever beheld a Gravyboatmind in reality. Over three hundred of them were in between the advancing horror and their capital city..... and they made the same stupid mistake that crowds in Japanese monster movies _always_ make. Each person executed a 180-degree turn, and began running straight away.

Running straight ahead of the alien monster, _leading_ it toward the city. Staying exactly >in< its path.

Absolutely _inviting_ the monster to overtake and assimilate them.


Avery Thompson, realizing what was going to happen to the Hinterlanders, made a small change to the mission plan. Gunning his Roadhog, he pulled up alongside the Gravyboatmind's left rear quarter, then signaled his gunner to open fire. As soon as the Splash-thing swerved toward him, he peeled off, relying on his comrades to adjust along with him. And so they did. It helped matters that the Master Champ knew Avery well. Can't let noncombatants die when improvising can save them. He had Cortexa call the other two Roadhog drivers to alter their course appropriately.

Plot-armor-type luck made this work: the monster still didn't realize that the follow-on vehicles bore plasma weapons. The composite creature _was_ caught off guard; it did get split in half, just on a diagonal cut instead of lengthwise. The Gravyboatmind's physical substance being homogenous, a diagonal slice was good enough.

Johnny-747 dropped onto the slimy ground between the halves of the monster. Leaping to his right, he plunged into the disgusting substance, and spoke through his external speaker, the sound carrying as if in water.

"That other mass pulled away from you on purpose! It is rebelling against the great unification! It must be destroyed!"


The toxic protoplasm quivered with rage. Not giving it time to think-- if it really could be said to think-- he lunged out of the filth, crossed the gap, then repeated his performance inside the _other_ half of the divided monster.

As Doctor Fallacy had speculated, Gravyboatminds had the potential, albeit perhaps never used, to attack other Splash entities, in case any Splash entity wasn't staying with the program. The two Gravyboatminds (each now a self-sufficient being) hurled themselves at each other. Colliding, they halfway wrestled, and halfway burned each other. The two Roadhogs with energy weapons resumed firing at the disgusting heaps. People from the city, made aware that the divided Gravyboatmind was now vulnerable, came out with everything that could help cremate the self-destroying horror.

Jerry Bakatoru had a strong cadre of scientists around him. They knew that, in all the history of life in the universe, nobody since the Preliminaries had ever devised any better _cure_ for the Splash than killing everyone who got infected. But when Jerry spoke to the rescuers about still attempting to find countermeasures, Cortexa told him, "The Crackshots are fond of saying: 'You miss one hundred percent of shots you _don't_ attempt'."
 
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By the time Johnny-747 and company made it back to Planet Stretch, all prominent officials of the Introductories reportedly had either been killed by United Civilizations personnel, been killed by Congregation personnel, been captured by one of these forces, been recruited by one of these forces, or fled far away to remote worlds. This relieved both U.C. and Congregation from looking in two directions at once.

For civilized people on Stretch, this meant still having to fight Congregationists, but with very good odds a of ultimate victory. The same team who had been to Hinterland, after a few days of recovery, were sent to infiltrate a Heyho Ring which no U.C. troops had never boarded. Called Zipper Heyho, it was reported to contain Preliminary relics which the ascendant Congregation leaders were supposed to be studying. The ships tasked for this mission were led by the carrier Audacity, identical in design with Longevity: the flagship of Rear Admiral Jane Kathrynway. The "cute" A/I named Whistlebell was with the Admiral. Also underway for Zipper Heyho were the destroyer Spurting Flame, where the rugged A/I called Flyboy would assist Captain Greco Dillard, and Josette Yamakobo's division of Spearmint-class frigates.

The elite Crackshot community was not so small as to consist only of heroes already seen in the story. The Crackshot fireteam sailing with Admiral Kathrynway was led by a certain Corporal Zoshrid-18, the only member of his race to become a Crackshot so far. The bipedal Doladag people were pretty much of humanoid shape (though hairless), but were nearly eight feet tall. This, however, did not reflect their homeworld being massive; on the contrary, Doladags were viable with such a stature because of their world's _low_ mass and gravity. All of the benefits of Crackshot medical enhancements had made Zoshrid just strong enough that he could operate in battle without his powered armor needing to do _everything_ for him. But he was agile, smart and brave, with superb reaction time even before neural improvements; and his human teammates in special-forces training had all rooted for him to succeed.

(For the readers' edification, the syllable "Zosh" is meant to rhyme with the word "wash.")

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Interlude: after the success on Hinterland, during a precious bit of liberty time, a conversation took place which really should have occurred in the _original_ Halo plotline.....

CORTEXA: Johnny, we've never had a chance to enjoy talking _casually_ about, well, about life. Too busy trying to save _other_ people's lives. We get glimpses of normal human existence, as in the fact of Doctor Fallacy's own daughter serving with you in the Crackshots. When I've been inside your organic brain, I've never picked up any hint of _yourself_ wishing to retire in one piece and _raise_ a family of your own. Yet even within the conditions of your violent existence, you know that life, life where love _can_ exist, is what you fight for.

MASTER CHAMP (unaware that part of this speech echoes Frodo Baggins): Sometimes it hits me just how much I _don't_ know about normal human life-- and of course, the lives of friendly races. That life >is< precious, or why try to preserve it? But sometimes some people have to give up good things, so that _other_ people can have them.

CORTEXA: And..... some of us want to _restore_ the good things to-- to people like you, who sacrifice so much.

MASTER CHAMP: You know, Cortexa, you're _more_ a hero than I've ever been. You can see living people, see that sometimes they do find joy, but you've been denied it for as long as you've existed.

CORTEXA: Yes..... It will give me some vicarious fulfillment if you ever--

MASTER CHAMP: I just wish somehow you could become--

CORTEXA: And I wish we-- confound it, I want to cry, but I have no tear ducts!

Copperfox:
Okay, readers, this being a fantasy, is it _fully_ obvious what I want to see happen?

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

The scenario faced by Admiral Kathrynway, Corporal Zoshrid and company was pretty similar to the canonical Halo novel The Rubicon Protocol . Zipper Heyho contained a library of Preliminary knowledge, supervised by a sort of obnoxious robot. Boris Lavrov, an intelligent spaceship crewman stranded on Zipper, was cruelly used by a gang of Juggernasties and Skankbellies as a sort of living key, in order that the robot would cough up scientific data for the bad guys' use.

Zoshrid-18's fireteam, guided by Flyboy's holographic avatar, located and rescued all surviving human prisoners on Zipper, including Boris. Most crucially, this subplot is my way of describing how characters in my Halo parody first became aware of my version of The Banished. To me, that's "the Varnished."

The above wrap-up is my attempt AT LAST to carry the "Heyho" sequence beyond the "Now it REALLY exists" transition. If my readers go back to Page 78, you'll see a depiction of double-crossing aliens trying to murder _other_ aliens who were trying to talk peace with humans. Those backstabbers _were_ members of The Varnished, acting upon the orders of my version of canonical villain Atriox.

We will eventually rejoin Jacob, Raquel, Snack, Noherra, Lodratrid, Zubdookree and Karbeena, and AT LAST we'll see "story-real" heroes at work to frustrate the evil wishes of Enchantress Ickylinn and Tyrone Glass Neilsen.
 
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Oh-kay, not much action lately on Mediumgard Earth. No more vampire incidents. Conditions quiet enough that the corrupted minister Colter Vinson leaving his wife in order to steal singer Gayla Lamont from her husband was news. Time to stir the kettle a bit. I remind you that a Midwestern gentleman called Oliver Hackman has been a Jedi-counterpart for more than a year now, and is now personally acquainted with my version of Thor as well as a good-aligned version of Loki.

"" "" "" "" "" "" "" ""
Forty miles north of the university which Oliver supported, there stood a Buddhist study center. The rural up-sider finally got around to visiting it one day, and was welcomed by the orange-robed abbot. The cleric was accompanied by a mated pair of Tibetan Mastiffs, and these enormous dogs became the first subject of conversation.

"Tranquility to you, Mister Hackman. These well-behaved beasts were sent here from our Tibetan sanctuary, the high-ground temple where the treasonous Drigum Namdre formerly dwelt. Before you received your Fuss powers, powers which Buddhists can understand, even before Drigum turned apostate, our Supreme Abbot foresaw that an American --yourself, of course-- would receive those powers. He accordingly caused these mastiffs to be raised up with SENSITIVITY to life-spirit phenomena. Do you see how they are looking at you, Mister Hackman? They intuitively understand that their karma is to love you and serve you. I myself know that you will treat them well. Physically, these two dogs together would have a good chance of slaying a Siberian tiger or a Kamchatka bear; and mentally, they will adequately understand whatever you tell them, provided that you don't use ridiculously obscure technological vocabulary."

"I can Fuss-read that you are speaking truth," said Oliver. "Do they have names?"

"You, Adept Hackman, shall name them."

"All right. My family could tell you that I always liked unconventional names for pets." He laid a hand on each mastiff's head. "Male dog, your name will be Vitamin; female, your name will be Mineral. Abbot, are they okay with children?"

"More than okay. They will NEVER harm any human being without valid cause, and even then will seek only to disable, not slay. What is more, they will each possess a talent for detecting evil which excels even dogs in old movies. And what you call the up-side (Taoists would say the Yang) is so strong with the mastiffs that they are able to damage weapon-resistant enemies, even vampires."

Oliver half-laughed. "Now Bleeder the Vampire Killer will always be wanting to borrow them."

"Bleeder, and his new bride Princess Shurthingy, will themselves BE borrowed soon, along with Plaque Panther himself and Queen Carkeeya. You remember who Bakerstray Bill is. Prince Bill and his family have aided good-aligned heroes on several other worlds; now THEY are about to require help. Major evil-alien armies are threatening King Woolywoofin of Jumpstard. Both Prince Thorpe with much of his entourage, and the majority of The Revengists, will soon be transported by the Dentfloss Bridge to defend Jumpstard. You, Vitamin and Mineral may now consider yourselves a rapid-response team in case of new depredations by Mediumgarder villains. The Wonkabarans are promising transportation support for this purpose."

Oliver asked, "If Wonkabara's royal family is taking off, who'll be minding the store at home?"

"Chief Drumwhacku of the Primate Clan. He has enough mystic-whatsit-stuff that he can take on supernatural monsters also. Timekall up on Hallpasscard has to stay at his post; so he can coordinate with Wonkabara to deploy reserve good guys where needed. He'll also see if the Janitors of the Universe can detail at least one Green Flashlight for Mediumgard."

"That would be good. Thinking back on the vampire- obsession wave, wasn't there a crimefighter in Argentina who helped out?"

The abbot nodded. "He calls himself 'El Gaucho de Oro,' he also is being gifted with up-side Fuss powers. And his horse is being enhanced in a similar fashion as your dogs: detecting evil, being able to damage magical foes, and so forth. All in all, our Earth should be all right."

One extra bit of support for the side of good cropped up, east-by-southeast of Wonkabara. Freddy Rubusana, a now-teenage boy of the Xhosa people, had briefly but disastrously fallen under the sway of the vampire-wannabe epidemic. It had taken time, but nearly two years later he had acquired-- a gift. Now he could not only detect evil, but would know what SORT of evil he was detecting. For instance, he might ascertain that an unfamiliar man half a mile away was GENERALLY wicked, but was not currently planning harm to anyone.

The high school in Freddy's town enjoyed an internet connection. First he reserved a time slot to use the school's terminal, then went and spoke to the same policemen who had arrested him when he had fallen under the demonic influence. One officer joined him when he went to the school . There he logged onto the public-access channel maintained all over Africa by the Wonkabaran government. Some jumping through virtual hoops was called for, but eventually Freddy was able to place a message for Acting Chief Drumwhacku.

Two days later, a white man resembling the real-world actor Martin Freeman arrived by jump-jet near the same police station Freddy had visited. This man introduced himself: "My name is Orville Borden. I serve as a liaison between the Revengists and the government of Wonkabara." Orville's arrival would lead to Freddy becoming an official surveillance asset, helping to scout for villain activity.
 
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Reaching back several years before Titan Flatnose invaded Mediumgard Earth, a band of cautious, forward-looking evildoers had been playing a long game. They never got showy, never assumed an ominous name like "the High Table" or "the Court of Owls." They certainly included proficient killers in the ranks, but at least as many of their members were quiet white-collar crooks. Some bodies lay in secret graves because of this crime network; but it was more their style to boost some people high in politics and business, while pulling other people down from those heights.

During the disruption caused by the "Cosmic Fact Checkers," and the overlapping epidemic of dumb kids wanting to be vampires, members of the secret network performed such deeds of civic virtue as would not attract excessive attention. For instance, they subsidized mental-health organizations which were treating kids who had wanted to be vampires. And when evil had upped the ante-- that is, when demons like Screendoormammu had invaded Mediumgard-- an agent of the underground network had gotten lucky enough to retrieve a dropped raygun when Bulky Tanya's Banjolorians were helping to combat the evil immortals.

So it was that, when Mediumgard Earth AND Hallpasscard were under-staffed where heroes were concerned, the hidden super-mob had a dozen rayguns in its arsenal. Everything they did remained low-visibility and non-homicidal, but they were accelerating their growth in power.

The saying "Strike while the iron is hot" existed on this Earth-variant. It gained in relevance while most superhuman good guys were outside the solar system. Accordingly, over three thousand law-enforcement leaders, diplomats, war veterans, journalists, legislators, businesspeople and clergy died by apparent accidents-- to be replaced by persons who belonged to, or could be controlled by, the secret network.

"" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" ""
One greatly trusted courier for the sneaky-activities network was named Rudolf Spock. Mediumgard Earth had never had any version of Original Earth's politicized pediatrician Benjamin Spock. Also, because this iteration of the human race had known that extraterrestrials existed before it invented airplanes, there had not been much incentive for anyone to produce any version of "Star Trek." Thus, the surname "Spock" bore no special meaning for Mediumgarder humans, and a man being called Rudy Spock was nothing spectacular.

So the unremarkable Rudy Spock, inconspicuous errand-runner for inconspicuous villains, attracted no attention when he visited a Honduran museum of native antiquities. His organization had known for decades that a certain valuable relic sat on a museum shelf here in the city of Tegucigalpa. The item was a sculpture in the likeness of a desert tortoise. The courier used a plotline- convenient electronic device to shut off electric power to the museum for a short while. Without lights or security alarms in service, Rudy smoothly placed an imitation tortoise in the display case. Nobody hindered the gang agent from leaving with his prize. He took an airline flight to Hawaii, where he handed off the artifact to a colleague. Rudy Spock now vanishes from the narrative, unless and until I may decide to being him back onstage in a later chapter.

Like the baton in a relay race, the stone tortoise went from hand to hand to hand. It ended up in the possession of a Triad gang leader named Yi Bok-Yang. Region Chief Yi soon addressed a dozen of his most trusted men, three of whom were white Europeans.

"This artifact is not so powerful as to enable us to fight the Earthside superhero community head-on, let alone fight King Garryowen's army. But exactly as with our non-magical resources, TIMELY application of the stone tortoise can have our position more secure after the Revengists and the others come back from assisting the Jumpstardeans."

"All right, boss, what DOES the relic do?" asked the eldest of the Chinese henchmen.

"It makes a person absolutely invulnerable for three hours. That's long enough to achieve plenty, but no user can ever use it more than one time. So the network is calculating the best sequence of operations which will be made successful by having invulnerable agents in charge. We won't necessarily kill anyone, but we'll get some hazardous jobs wrapped up. Acquire more heavy weapons, establish better-concealed hideouts, put more industrial bosses under our thumb, maybe even gain access to additional magic items if risk assessment favors it. If possible, we'll return the stone tortoise to the Honduran museum without anyone realizing it was gone."
 
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The magical planetoid Hallpasscard was unusually quiet. King Garryowen, Thunder-Master Thorpe with his wife Lady Sniff, Hoodunnit the Pensive with his human-soldier wife Lydia Jawad (formerly of the Starship Grunts), Fratbro who had lately married the size-changing superheroine Hornette, Ballwun the Uncommonly Decent, Vidar the Tree-Planter, Lowerkey the good-aligned Loki-variant, Welbymark the super-healer, Nawtyfeller the master weapon-maker from Forgeworld, and half of all the rank-and-file Nordic Super-Vikings, had used the Dentfloss Bridge to beam out and rally with King Woollywoofin and Queen Wagga of Jumpstard in the Third Galaxy. Since the Filmation-derived story-world Anoxia had contact with Jumpstard, the Anoxian-born Green Flashlight Bowsaw signed on.

The Jumpstardeans had recalled Speedy Greyhoundus and Ultraviolet Griffin from the "Spaceballs"- derived sub-reality. This was truly an "all hands on deck" emergency. The power of evilness had pulled off a serious retcon. At least four deceased major evilmongers had returned to life because fantasy: Heckla the death-queen, Pheebwallabrish the denier of all masculine virtue, the flame- headed Screendoormammu who didn't care what any female thought of him, and Kaijusaurus, kind of like a vacuum-dwelling Godzilla but with a larger head. To make matters worse, the Space Amoeba, which had assisted Admiral Thuglyfe Skrawn in the battle for Zazdub World, had answered Heckla's call. Fill in with more than forty space warships escorted by transatmospheric fighter craft, and a handful of pirate vessels, plus thirty transports delivering Chipotli battle droids to the Jumpstardean surface, and you've got plenty of clang-clash pew-pew to enjoy.

Hallpasscard was not left undefended. Queen Sprigga, well able to fight at need, was in charge there during her husband's absence. Timekall the Bridge-Keeper was at his usual post, whence he could remotely witness the latest battle for Jumpstard. Vastbulk of the Warriors Four was on standby, as were the magic ravens Ignore-It and Forget-It. Lady Orvodi and Ballwun's wife Gretala were minding children whose parents were on deployment-- notably Prince Boltavolt the son of Thorpe and Sniff.

An additional Anoxian had come to Hallpasscard with Nawtyfeller: the talking, upright rabbit called Notsobadd Bunny. Joketeller, Stickywick and Grassglider had all been placed in prison by Queen She-Wow, and the sapient rabbit enjoyed notoriety for his role in the arrest. With his unique switchblade knife, Notsobadd considered himself a sentry now.

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Third Galaxy : King Woollywoofin and Queen Wagga knew that cosmic villains had no qualms about menacing defenseless noncombatants. It followed that the nearest human-inhabited world also needed protection. The royal couple sent a company of their own soldiers to the Earth-like world, whose residents would know that these offworlders were friends. To give this protective detachment more punch, Ultraviolet Griffin and Green Flashlight Bowsaw accompanied them, as did Eyesight and Crimson Witch of the Revengists. Such military force as the humans possessed was organized to assist the newly-arrived allies.

Woolywoofin and his advisors drew up a duty rotation for a total of six units. At any time, one unit would be scouting in space, another would be standing ready on Jumpstard, and the remaining four would have time to eat, sleep, AND YES, go to the bathroom. Woollywoofin and his counterpart Garryowen would share command-center duties, with Plaque Panther, Colonel America and Bright Window on hand to offer human insights for their tactics. Duke Bordercolnar, Jumpstard's nearest counterpart of Ballwun the Uncommonly Decent, headed one of the first two sections, while Thorpe led the other. The second pair of duty sections would be led by Bakerstray Bill and Speedy Greyhoundus. The third pair would be led by Ballwun and Hoodunnit.

Shortly after Ballwun and Hoodunnit had begun their first shift, Hoodunnit and Lydia, with Fratbro and Hornette, were aboard a space boat (similar to the vessel Thorpe used VERY early in our saga), conducting perimeter patrol, when the most beautiful anime character EVER materialized on their deck: Swimmer Pluto of the Spacer Swimmers. Hoodunnit knew who she was, and asked what brought her to this galaxy. She replied:

"The Quark-Elves. My sisters and I recently defended a planet called Powurkord against those troublemakers. Now their leader, Quark-Lord Maltibalkrix, is in THIS galaxy, on his way to offer support to Screendoormammu and that lot. I have exerted my time-altering power to delay the Quark-beings, making them relive a two-hour period of their journey over and over; but they will soon break through. And I sense that the Space Amoeba now FEELS my intervention; it will soon travel to meet the Quark-Elves, and help them to resume travel and join the villains."

"You have our sincere thanks," Fratbro told her.

"You're welcome. I'm afraid this is all the aid I can give you. The Spacer Swimmers must now fly back to the Earth-variant which we frequent; it is expecting an attack by Duke Terror. We can handle him, but it will take time and effort to ward off his assault. For yourselves, just remember that Quark-Elves are uncomfortable where there's bright light."
 
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What I call the Third Galaxy has been much less explored in my narrative than the other two, but of course it HAS many inhabited worlds. Fifty or sixty Third Galaxy planets which have not yet been mentioned, maintained political and commercial interactions. This state of affairs made it possible for space pirates to exist. Almost a hundred ships, of assorted sizes and combat ability, operated in that galactic region. Their leadership structure and rules were very similar to the Reavers in Guardians of the Galaxy movies.

The Reaver-counterparts had long been aware of the existence of the Jumpstardeans. For that matter, they also knew about the human-like Flashcardeans, whose own society had been destroyed, but whose survivors had been aided to recover by the Jumpstardeans. A pirate squadron had once tried to plunder the weakened Flashcardeans-- only to be set upon by King Woollywoofin. A single ship, with minimum crew, had been permitted to limp homeward. The paroled pirates had carried a warning to their brethren: the other survivors of the raiding squadron were serving a life sentence at forced labor, serving the needs of the people they had attempted to plunder. "Any future aggression by you," the dog-headed king had warned the pirate fellowship, "will be dealt with much less mercifully."

Eighteen pirate crews now broadcast to the mega-villains an offer to join them. Heckla accepted the offer on behalf of her companions, while privately willing to let these mere mortals absorb laser beams, missiles and magic-sword blows. Screendoormammu, a bit less callous toward subordinates than the death-queen was, inserted himself in the business, establishing communication with the pirates. They combined with the few pirate bands who had already joined the super-villains.

Quark Lord Maltibalkrix had converted scientifically-proficient people on several Third Galaxy worlds into Quark-Elves, which supplied him with his own spaceships. This afforded him greater flexibility than relying exclusively on teleportation. He soon converged upon the pirates, who had been told by Screendoormammu to expect the Quark-Elves.

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Fratbro, Hoodunnit and their wives, patrolling in their space boat, picked up energy traces from the Space Amoeba. This was enough to set off the alert. A larger space boat joined them, carrying twenty well-armed Jumpstardeans. Racing outward, they made a skirmishing run, firing particle beams at the closest hostiles. Kaijusaurus was the most powerful of the leading fiends; he shot eye-beams which wrecked the large boat. Fratbro's boat retrieved the survivors of that vessel; then, while Hornette and Lydia were medevacking the wounded, Fratbro and Hoodunnit used jetpack-sort-of thingies to close in on the stupendous dragonoid. Fratbro's sword and Hoodunnit's battleaxe were not powerful enough to slay Kaijusaurus, but they hurt him, covered the retreat of the others, and gained more time for a response from Jumpstard.

Awakened from sleep, Bakerstray Bill shot straight out into space with spear in hand, shooting his lightning out from the weapon. He then plunged into close-quarters action, blasting and stabbing while making sure not to be grabbed in the monster's teeth.

Thorpe also met Heckla in space. Fantasy ensured that the Thunder-Master could speak AND BE HEARD in a vacuum, so he shouted to Heckla: "Watch your po-po, antler-witch! Right now, you're NOT in a movie whose only purpose is to make ME look like a weak, stumbling loser!" When they closed, Thorpe severed all of her antlers with two roundhouse swings of Stormcracker. This wasn't fatal, but was dismaying to her. Still, though far from omnipotent, she had more than enough strength to send Thorpe spinning through space.

Ballwun jet-packed forward in Thorpe's place, landing a blow from Oatmealnir on Heckla's nose. She grabbed hold of the war-hammer's head and tried to crush it. But she failed, and Ballwun scoffed, "Like Thorpe said, you AREN'T in a movie which was made only to make men look weak!" To be sure, Heckla kept hold of the hammer though unable to destroy it; but Ballwun drew his sword and stabbed at her stomach. The point penetrated only three inches into her flesh, and she WAS able to break its blade, but she was weakened enough that Ballwun could reclaim Thorpe's hammer. He whacked the top of her head, and she retreated for the moment. Ballwun turned his attention to destroying Chipotli battle-droids.

The defenders kept up steady fire against the Star Amoeba with what for them were conventional weapons-- to no effect at all. Thorpe and Bill concentrated their electrical attacks on one spot, reckoning that this thing must have a vulnerable nucleus. The Amoeba apparently understood their intent, for it began retreating from them.

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Four of the pirate ships, followed by one troopship of the Chipotli, detoured for the human-settled planet which has been mentioned. But Crimson Witch foresaw their onslaught. Non-combatants were hustled to the safest available places, while able-bodied men took up arms. Bowsaw, whose experience in space combat was limited, flew top cover for those militiamen who were most in harm's way. Ultraviolet Griffin, Crimson Witch and Eyesight were able to fight in space, though Crimson Witch was made less efficient in spell-casting by the seldom- performed but now-necessary magic of keeping an air-sphere around herself.

Three pirate ships had their fire-control systems disabled by beam-shots from Eyesight and Griffin. Crimson Witch used her mind-control to make the pirates believe (truthfully) that they would receive less than capital punishment if surrendering. Bowsaw, meanwhile, flew to intercept the troopship just as it was about to disembark its robot soldiers. The young Green Flashlight blasted a pit at the foot of the boarding ramp, and the first eleven Chipotli droids to emerge fell into it. Since these robots were not living beings, not even in the C-3PO fashion, Bowsaw had no qualms about destroying the ones who followed. But he had scarcely killed five more of the droids when the rest returned fire. Bowsaw could stop the Chipotli beams, but had to use all his energy for this defense.

Armed locals charged onto the scene, damaging several of the robots with inefficient but furious gunfire. Fifteen of these humans suffered wounds in their left shoulders, but the more-powerful good guys overcame the Chipotli before any humans could be slain.
 
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Woollywoofin took to the sky over his own world, wielding what Dungeons & Dragons would call a Sword of Cold. As he zeroed in on Screendoormammu, the pirates whom the flame-headed fiend had befriended opened fire on him. Not expecting to do a Jedi routine of catching wide-beam shots on a narrow blade, he was equipped with a helmet, shield and body armor which all had fine reflective properties. This enabled the King of Jumpstard to avoid any serious harm from the high-powered energy weapons, but he almost got blindsided by an attack from Screendoormammu. That monster had previously been slain by Thorpe, but his retcon-ish revival had filled with inflated confidence.

The interdimensional demon was wielding a Balrog-style flaming whip. Yes, it's magic, it can burn in airless space, just as an Odin-variant can survive in the vacuum. Woollywoofin fought spectacularly, slowly gaining the edge. Then the Star Amoeba grabbed the virtuous king with a pseudopod. The threat to their monarch brought more Jumpstardeans flying to his aid. Bakerstray Bill went against Screendoormammu, to prevent that fiend from taking advantage.

The Queen of the Goshdarned had previously been slain by Ballwun. HER undeserved restoration had not made her as confident as Screendoormammu; she preferred to go to some ordinary world and conjure undead beings there. Pheebwallabrish had been slain before by Lady Sniff, but blamed the male sex for it. Instead of slugging it out with anybody, she decided to tamper with the minds of male warriors, who constituted more than two-thirds of the force defending Jumpstard and its human-held "client" world.

"All men are cowardly weaklings, but all men are powerful tyrants who oppress and enslave us, but men are lazy and leave all the work to be done by women, but men stop women from finding employment, but women produce all good art and literature, but women are never heard, but women control the future by raising children, but it's a horrible bondage for a woman to stay at home, but any woman can easily dominate the men in her life, but the toxic males are forcing us to please them, but all women are independent, AND men should follow careers as poets and florists, but only women have creative spirits, but women and men are exactly the same, but all women are better than all men, but men are horrid for denying us opportunities, but The Fuss is female, but no one can assign a gender to the Ultimate, but believing in a Heavenly Father is misogynist, but worshiping a Goddess makes everyone equal, but the best of men could never be the equal of an average woman, but making comparisons is an example of hateful masculine linear logic, but only women are CAPABLE of logic ....."

This magical broadcast hit Thorpe just as he was flying to resume his fight with Heckla. She wounded her distracted antagonist with her jagged irregularly-shaped black sword. But before the chaotic-evil goddess could follow through, Hoodunnit the Pensive was upon her. You could not have named a more fully on-task hero than Hoodunnit. Roaring "You also DON'T get to crush ME like in that stupid movie," he barraged her with whirling blows from a battleaxe and a whirling chain-mace. All at once, Heckla curled up in mid-sky like a crying baby.

"You're a horrid bully! What kind of man ARE you, hitting a defenseless woman?"

Hoodunnit, at this moment, was too virtuous and good-hearted for his own safety. He, like his brother warriors, believed in always granting mercy when asked. It was Lydia, off to the side, who spotted Heckla pulling some sort of burning dagger from a back scabbard. She emptied the magazine of her automatic firearm into the super-villainess; this didn't severely damage Heckla, but did spoil her sneak attack.

Seeing now that Heckla had intended treachery, Hoodunnit shouted, "To The Bad Place with you, AGAIN!"=-- and split Heckla's head all the way down to the neck with his axe, then sent the two halves of her head flying with his ball-and-chain weapon.

He would later assure Thorpe, "You would have beaten her this time, but I also had a score to settle, vicariously anyway."

Kaijusaurus, Pheebwallabrish and Star Amoeba soon fled the area, leaving bragging rights to the good guys. But the Third Galaxy's supply of evildoers was far from depleted.
 
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More to be seen on Mediumgard before we switch subplots again......

Orville Borden, the legal representative of the Revengists, was with Acting Chief Drumwhacku at Princess Shurthingy's laboratory building, when Timekall on Hallpasscard sent notice of an incoming Dentfloss transit. Golden Gaucho materialized in front of them, in the middle of taking a swallow of yerba mate. He had been at lunch in Argentina, and now found himself in Wonkabara's late afternoon.

"Buenas tardes, compadres. Before you ask, nothing fantasy-adventure-like is happening on the pampas. What about Africa?"

"Right now, just networking," Drumwhacku replied. "We know that there ARE organized criminals remaining on our Earth, but we have yet to see what they may have up their sleeves more impressive than ordinary gangs have."

Orville added, "Major heroes are way off in Galaxy Three. King Garryowen reports an initial victory against the forces of evil over there, enough so he can return home; but Thorpe, Sniff and most of the Hallpasscardean contingent are staying there, since new attacks might follow. This leaves our few still on-world superheroes widely scattered. The Dentfloss Bridge can do plenty to compensate for this, but we need to be sure every hero can send and receive calls. We will provide you a transceiver set that works for Hallpasscardean comms."

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On almost every Earth-variant sociologically similar to Original Earth, zillions of supposedly creative people in the arts and media COULD NOT TO SAVE THEIR LIVES imagine any large villain-group which WASN'T Neo-Nazis. Accordingly, the cunningly-anonymous mega-gang rounded up several dozen fair-skinned, blond-haired petty gangsters, put them through drug-based conditioning, and got them believing that they had always been worshipers of Adolf Hitler (who, on Mediumgard, had been stopped by the Hallpasscardeans a lot sooner than the original one had been defeated, and who had stood trial for his crimes).

The expendable Rent-a-Nazis were given their target: the retired former President of Mediumgard's United States.

Paden Glumm, counterpart of "The Thing" in Marvel Comics, and his wife who had somehow-or-other-I-forget-how acquired a degree of super-strength herself, were sunbathing on a beach someplace, having told their Secret Service detail to take a day off, when shouts were heard: "Orange skin is impure! Orange skin contaminates humanity! Kill the abnormal being, and kill the disgusting woman who loves him!!"

Paden immediately barked at his wife: "DIG!" She instantly understood his meaning, and (herself being vulnerable to bullets) dug her way down into the sand, where she would be hard to hit. The former president moved obliquely, so that the Nazi-costumed bad guys would not even be shooting in Mrs. Glumm's direction when they fired at him. Their guns were not high enough in penetrating power to inflict any real damage on Paden, and he could reach them before they could get close to Mrs. Paden; so he could afford to be merciful. Capturing all the pretend S.S. troopers, he asked the local police to call in Colonel America to interrogate them.

The red-herring ploy had been pulled off. Numerous news-media platforms chorused that this incident proved the Neo-Nazi movement to be FAR WORSE than little nuisances like the former invasion by Titan Flatnose. And the hidden crime network, not one of whose members was a white supremacist though about a third of them were white, laughed at the clueless public and continued its long game.
 
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I remind my readers that Deuce "Street Bat" Wayans, the Batman variant of an Earth which has no native-born metahumans, has shared adventures with good guys in the Dune-derived sub-reality: not only with heroes native to that sub-reality, but with "outside talent" such as Black Admiral and Winter Trooper. (If you've read the works of Frank Herbert's son, which extended the Dune saga, the Dune-related adventures of Street Bat involved fighting evil robots like those the younger Herbert portrayed.) A specially-adjusted Starhatch, bridging time as well as distance, was discovered on a Dune-premise-derived planet; this turned out to have brought Street Bat several years forward in time when he visited the Frank-Herbert- parody sub-universe. Heroes realized that this functional quirk meant Street Bat could "skip" a span of time in his own world, returning home years later without having aged.

Note that Street Bat was already in the caped-hero business before time travel complicated his life. The young Deuce had been robbed of his father by an urban thug, but not robbed of his mother. When shot by the crook, Rudyard Wayans had lived long enough to kill the murderer with his bare hands before succumbing. Beatrice Wayans thus had still been there to raise her son-- but had perversely tried to indoctrinate Deuce with the absurd notion that "violence never solves anything." This, in stubborn denial of the fact that she had lived only because her husband's wound had not been instantly fatal and he had taken the criminal out with him. Forming "The Be The Change Foundation," Beatrice had applied her personal share of the family fortune basically to being wrong about everything. This was to include assisting a white-collar crook named Mark S. Hegel to become President of Bat-Earth's United States of America.

Deuce fortunately had an Alfred-equivalent to help him not grow up effeminate: a war veteran with aviation training, named Alvin Springbuck. Also helpful to Deuce were a Chinese-American friend named Chang-Shi Kirby, and Deuce's own cousin Ben Wayans. Ben, with his wife Isobel and their eldest son Bartolomeo, has been seen operating the Audacious Angus cattle ranch in eastern Colorado. Once he had planned his Batman-type career, Deuce made his debut in Coldcash City, his Earth's version of Las Vegas. Catching his first crooks there established his long-term strategy of keeping his America uncertain where his actual home base was.


Once the time-travel-and-star-hopping business did complicate Street Bat's existence, "non-local" heroes (making themselves known also to Alvin and Chang-Shi) did some intervening to secure the above-mentioned longevity advantage for Deuce, and also to make it harder for any villain to calculate a pattern in Street-Bat's movements. Various covert stunts related to this business were conducted on Bat-Earth by Green Flashlights; the first Flashlight to do so was Zuha-Zuzob, the starfish-like being from a frozen planet. Most remarkably of all, the good-aligned Face Twister Maskoflage put in years disguised as Deuce in public, so that Deuce himself in hero-guise, or any associate dressed as the caped hero, could be publicly accounted for at the same time as Deuce was apparently proven to be somewhere else.

The treasonous President Mark Hegel has a master plan: something which really has been proposed by certain would-be world-changers on Original Earth. It's a more ambitious variation upon the "Fifteen-Minute City" concept which has enjoyed some advocacy in real-world media. The more ambitious plan has been referred to as "The Line." Be it the less ambitious version or the more ambitious one, the intent is exactly the same: offer citizens the "convenience" of all necessities being available in a relatively small area...... and then requiring people to stay inside such an area whether they want to stay there or not. Something especially painful to Deuce is the fact that his own widowed mother is a big advocate of creating mass prison camps under the guise of "efficiency." Naturally, she expects to be among the aristocrats who remain free to dwell wherever they choose.
 
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Revisiting Ben Wayans in Limon, Colorado, we find him buying ranch supplies, accompanied by now-eight-year-old Esmeralda and now-six-year-old Mateo. So far, he had been able to stay outside of the Life Avenues project. Sort of. He still was permitted to raise cattle, which were always butchered in as painless a way as possible; but he was only allowed to sell at his own discretion whatever percentage of his meat production wasn't taken by members of the establishment. These new-style aristocrats (who wanted other people to be vegans) paid him scarcely more than his costs-- usually quoting one of their catchphrases: "People before profits."

The one bright spot in this arrangement was that, having consciously made it nearly impossible for Ben to buy enough diesel fuel for his business, they could not also forbid him to use horses. He rode his own favorite gelding, with four well-trained pack horses keeping near, while Esmeralda and Mateo rode a durable mare. Esmeralda was already almost as good an equestrian as her big brother Bartolomeo,; and a few embarrassing falls from pony-back 'had taught Mateo good saddle-sense.


Franz Schiller's "Farm, Road and Ranch Store" was no longer as comfortable a place to visit as it had been before Mark Hegel moved into what he renamed the Shades of Gray House. Mister Schiller, along with millions of American merchants, was forbidden to air-condition his building.

"Good morning, evil meat-eating caveman," said Franz with a smile. To which Ben replied with his own smile, "Good morning, despicable corporate capitalist. You got any updates about the Sioux Falls to Minneapolis Avenue?" On this Earth, instead of Pierre, South Dakota being a state capital, Sioux Falls was the capital of that state. The most recent Life Avenue to be nearing completion was relaxing somewhat the tightly-confining design to which both coasts adhered. Formal boundaries around Sioux Falls and Minneapolis, and the narrow public-transit corridor linking these two cities, did not quite forbid people to venture outside, but no commoner from inside could use any powered vehicle for an excursion, and they were watched.

Bicycles were permitted.

Franz told him, "What I hear is that people at the Minneapolis end-- who nearly all voted for Hegel-- were in favor of conforming to the established Life Avenue model; but the South Dakotans balked. Many of even the Dakotans were willing to accept mandatory veganism, but they wanted to be allowed to grow their own vegetables and grains. Ladora--" (referring to Ladora Greeley, the relatively-young governor of this world's Minnesota, who had campaigned on her looks even while condemning "the male gaze") "--held a series of private meetings with President Hegel, and he agreed to urge the People's Congress to make the concession.

"Now I have a question. Are you hearing any noises about bug ranching from farther west?"

Esmeralda, just old enough to desire to be considered knowledgeable, piped up "Yes, around Palace Rock." (She was referring to this Earth's version of Castle Rock, Colorado.) "Grasshoppers, crickets and cockroaches. Yuck!"

Ben stroked his daughter's hair, adding: "With every one of them composed of sixty percent indigestible exoskeleton."

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Wayans Enterprises had an office in Sioux Falls. At the same time Ben Wayans conversed with his merchant friend, Maskoflage was conducting what he hoped would be his last performance in Sioux Falls as Deuce Wayans, before soon turning over the role to the actual Deuce. (The climate in South Dakota was colder than the Face Twister cared for.) He was addressing fifteen executives of Wayans Enterprises: men and women who held their positions by virtue of superior work performance. Nine of them had been grabbed up by Maskoflage-acting-as-Deuce after they lost other jobs for not being ruthless enough about punishing politically- incorrect speech in workplaces.

The false Mr. Wayans remarked non-committally about Street Bat suppressing a street gang in Flagpole, Arizona (equivalent of our world's Flag-staff, Arizona). Maskoflage had just gotten back from doing that appearance. He made no other comments about appearances by Street Bat-- not even the times when it hadn't been himself in the costume. He needed to keep Deuce's reputation sufficiently bland, lest the actual Deuce walk right into difficulties when he resumed the full-time role of himself. The most remarkable thing Maskoflage said to "his" employees was this:

"We are increasing support for the Oneness Pioneers by training them to refurbish bicycles: emphasizing wheels and tires for off-road use. This will optimize the open-space experience for proletarians who are permitted outside excursions." What went unspoken was: When Deuce Wayans permanently resumes his own public identity, he needs to be perceived as obedient to the regime, yet as caring about the welfare of the underclass.

 
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