Spacebullies Two: The Search For More Parody

Back in the eastern United States, enjoying reasonably normal activity due to his futuristic pacemaker, Stony Stork paid a visit to Bryce Donner's laboratory. Just hours ago, Stony had concluded a business meeting with Defense Minister Creighton Tawhiri of New Zealand.

"Bryce, I hear that Red Chunk appreciates your expanding trousers. Are you ready to wear the same in another galaxy?"

"Cousin Jasmine will be disappointed if I don't get in on the brawl." Author's Note: If I didn't say that She-Hunk and Unfindable Man had joined the Redundantworld campaign, just figure they caught a ride out there a week ago, courtesy of King Truthside's dimension-tunneling resources.

Stony nodded. "That's the spirit! Gray Grump doesn't need any guns, but I can have several sonic stun-guns ready for you to take along. You know, since the good guys DO take prisoners."

THE STORY OF STRADIVARIAN AND GASFILLA ON DETERIORATING EARTH MUST NOT BE FORGOTTEN, SO I'M GOING TO SWITCH BACK THERE >NOW,< IN ORDER TO CATCH >THEM< UP WITH REDUNDANTWORLD, BEFORE GRAY LUMP LANDS THERE.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Gasfilla no longer complained about the proportion of time she and the former executioner spent walking to reduce exertion for the horses. She had come to realize that, while inferior to many animals in maximum-output strength, human beings tended to _outlast_ beasts in long-range stamina. Like other animals on this afflicted Earth-variant, their horses were unaccustomed to their sun being bright. The same warmth which was increasing the world's fresh-water supply, also meant that the horses would need to _drink_ more water, besides needing longer breaks from carrying the two humans.

"Straddy!" Gasfilla shortening her protector's name had less to do with emotional closeness than with a general tendency to shorten speech, lest a consequent increase in her water consumption should have her needing to relieve herself overly often.

Understanding this, the swordsman anticipated her most likely question. "I suppose you're wondering what those rustics are doing with mattocks and spades. There's no stream or pond right next to them, but I'm convinced that they're aware of a growing stream someplace. They can't predict how long the melt-off will continue, so they're digging a reservoir."

Gasfilla nodded. "That makes sense. If they can harden the bottom before they direct water into the pond-- maybe baking bricks in the hotter sunlight to line the bed-- retention will be better. Should we speak to them?"

"Well, make signs to them. I've never been to this particular valley; odds are against them speaking a language I know. It's highly unlikely that they'll be hostile; but if they are, take note: I _won't_hold it against you if you save yourself."

Happily, no such emergency arose, and sign language did suffice. What Stradivarian offered to do, and in fact did do, was unexpected by all. The Hagensaber not only could shatter futuristic machines, it could also slice hardened soil without losing its edge, let alone breaking. Letting the locals point out the line along which they planned to guide the water in, he took position eight meters from where the edge of the reservoir was intended to be. Over the next hour, the former executioner swung from left and right, from left and right, cutting wedges half the weight of his body. He didn't have to form a neatly- dug trench; it was enough that his hour of nonstop toil would save the locals _many_ man-hours of labor.

The travelers did not refuse to accept a night's hospitality, among country folks of the best sort. Stradivarian and Gasfilla slept separately, but their own relationship was progressing at a healthy pace.

 
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I've decided that our eventually-to-be-mated pair are traveling west.

On the second day after leaving their new friends at the reservoir site, Gasfilla suddenly asked the swordsman, "In your old career, did you ever perform executions under the auspices of the Neesheedors?"

Stradivarian's face tightened. "Four times, while I was a novice. According to some, their collective name translates as 'The Only Ones Permitted To Think'. They condemn a >lot< of people. I had no discretion then. But on the third and fourth occasions, I offered to convey farewell messages for my victims. This 'improper' service didn't help my reputation, but I didn't regret rendering what mercy I could.

"Now tell me, are the Neesheedors on your mind because you think we might encounter some?"

"Yes. Life on Earth is rough enough, that even the restoration of the Sun gives me no confidence that earthly troubles are decreasing. I would wager that Neesheedors are _already_ making up ways to punish people for any bad results of the Sun's revival."

Stradivarius grinned. "So _that's_ why you accepted the gift the reservoir foreman gave you!"

Nodding, Gasfilla patted the head of the compact pickaxe which hung by a loop on her saddle. "Men being on average stronger than women, a woman fighting a man is well advised to carry a weapon which will concentrate >all< the impact of her blows on one part of her antagonist's body."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Around four hundred kilometers west of our heroes, a platoon of Bazonkers were marching eastward, killing humans who weren't fast enough to get away. The machines moved cautiously, because _they_ had no flight capability, and Doctor Handmitten had warned them that flesh-beings operating in a relatively-nearby star system >did< have abundant aerospace transport. As for ground-bound people here on Deteriorating Earth, the Bazonkers killed all they could catch, _except_ for Neesheedors.

The war-droids had some deductive talent. They reasoned that people who talked in the mechanical fashion of the Neesheedors could be classified as androids. As fellow robots.

We now look at a camp of Neesheedors. We meet one woman who went by a name signifying "Dark Orderliness."

Her voice was not like someone _trying_ to sound robotic, but it _was_ like someone who was reciting a script, someone who would not accept anybody questioning her pronouncements.

"By lines of thirteen, in columns of eighteen, hut hut hut. One sidestep left, hut! Close eyes. Open left eye. Deep inhale, hold breath while I count to seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Open right eye, then stand up. Raise right arm, hut! Drop arm, then four steps forward starting with right foot, hut hut hut hut! Now, casual walk forward until I say stop......... Stop! Everyone in left column, walk around the front and line up on the other side......"

An advance party of Bazonkers came upon the conformity exercise. The lead unit addressed Dark Orderliness in a stereotypical robot voice: "You-- are-- teachable-- human-- units. We-- will-- assimilate-- your-- talents-- in-- the-- cause-- of-- predictability-- so-- that-- corrosive-- randomness-- will-- be-- contained."

The nearest hill to the east abruptly was silhouetted against a blazing white light. Following it was a manly voice:

"Bazonkers, you were yourselves created by flesh-beings, and _they_ were corrosive. If you have anything like souls, I give you the opportunity to reprogram. You have _one_ chance to cancel your genocide plan." Then the speaker came over the hill, holding the Hagensaber aloft, like Luke Skywalker in the posters on True Earth in 1977. But the physical blade was emitting far more light.

"Exterminate!" screeched the lead unit, although it had never heard of Doctor Who or of Daleks. Death rays came stabbing at Stradivarian-- but he Luke Skywalkered their beams back at them.

Another Bazonker directed the human dupes to circle around the hill and go after whoever was there. But what might be The Fuss was at work. "You don't want to side with genocidal droids against living persons!" The potentially violent crowd hesitated, so Gasfilla repeated the same words.

This time, half a dozen of the wavering humans repeated back: "We don't want to side with genocidal droids against living persons." Gasfilla nudged her horse and the second horse away from the crowd, and saw that they didn't follow. So she added: "You want to get as far away from the Bazonkers as possible."

"We want to get as far away from the Bazonkers as possible." The Neesheedors, including their newest joiners, walked or jogged off in several directions, but none of them back TOWARD the evil robots.

When Gasfilla dared to look at the scene of her man's battle, she was overwhelmed with relief that he was alive. Her joy was enhanced by amazement when she saw four surviving robots, including the one which had been in command, KNEELING in submission before the sometime executioner.

No Bazonker interfered or argued when Gasfilla hurled herself onto Stradivarian and bombarded him with kisses.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Out in space, the energy fiend Doctor Handmitten sensed that the evil badness which he and the Everperpetualists had worked on so diligently was faltering. While they were trying to formulate comeback plans, narrative chronology caught up with them..... and the absurdly over-powered villain Lowblow arrived from the First Galaxy. Battering and pummeling them, he made them flee to far distant space regions. Which was an improvement for Deteriorating Earth.

Congratulating himself on somehow supposedly proving that goodness was dumb, he scanned out the way to Redundantworld, convinced that he was going to walk all over Superdude, Superhottie, Black Admiral, Prince Thorpe, Bakerstray Bill, Adam Wornsock, Speedy Greyhoundus, Walloper Woman, Black Stingray, Princess Grrrryyll, Diskoduck, Sir Ballwun, Ultraviolet Griffin, and Atomic Scalp.

No hurry, though. The fact that goodness was advancing mightily against the Bazonkers on Deteriorating Earth was heartening for the cynical fiend, since he GAINED strength when evilness took hits. He paused to open his mind for any possible psychic message from Hipstera. After several minutes of waiting, he guessed that his lover might simply be asleep. Good-aligned biggies like Dragon Equivvalentor wouldn't execute a helpless prisoner. Meanwhile, the forces of morality on Redundantworld should be allowed to gain some victories, the better to give Lowblow impetus for a spectacular comeback.
 
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On Urth, at Restoration Ranch in Wyoming, Ricardo and Corazon Torres, aides to ranch owner Greg Sutter, welcomed a visiting former villain, the Frankenstein-ish Sullivan Grungy. He had come to confer with young Matthew Carver, assistant ranch foreman, who was the wielder of the mystical Dice-Aract.

"A company of beam-weapon-equipped Senphatorian troops has come over via the Tachyon Loop. They want to join the action in Galaxy Three, and so do I. Obed Whippler--" {a minister well known to the Justified League, possessing serious spiritual authority} and Professor Crazier are both fully confident that no one can ever drag me back into evil anymore; and King Truthside says he'll send my clones back here from Awkwardlisp, so that with Moistureman and Stellar Sapphire here too, Urth still has high-powered protection."

Professor Crazier learned that another, albeit less human infantry was available: demi-human Zazdub folk, who had been part of Zazdub World's defense against Duke Terror and the Space Amoeba. They carried bullet-rifles, but high-powered ones with excellent range. None of these knew anything about what the white-faced Lowblow was up to since his escape from the island of Paxifica.

When the Dice-Aract warp-jumped this reinforcement battalion to Redundantworld, they were met by Adam Wornsock, who could speak with anyone. "Thank you for coming! The people with me now are called Masked Biker, Cyborg Allsweeta, Liquid Snake and Anteater Woman."

One Zazdub asked, "Does she eat insects?"

"No, her code name comes from her ability to make her hands become hard and sharp, to work like the claws of an anteater, and she's strong enough that her claws are worth having. Liquid Snake becomes a liquid to get into places or to survive extreme violence, then changes back. And yes, her clothes magically dissolve with her, and reappear still on her when she solidifies."

As introductions and explanations proceeded, Masked Biker was cruising his motorcycle along a wide, relatively smooth gravel road, testing its consistency for himself. Allsweeta told the newcomers, "Wherever interfering outsiders quit or are chased off, the natives are trying to create something close to a real highway network."

Locals, appreciative of offworld assistance in roadbuilding, brought food for all the friendly offworlders; even Sullivan Grungy was normal enough now to eat and digest food.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

One hundred forty-three degrees of longitude away from Sullivan's battalion, the two important Directvideans Duke Diskoduck and Rabbishop Malarkey were scouting. Several families of the demi-human Redundantworlders guided the two wise men to a cemetery.

Before the excursion, the fathers of these families had asked what the offworld heroes knew about the Fataldeathalyzers, those aliens never having set foot in this immediate vicinity. Diskoduck and Malarkey told what they knew about the interstellar zombie-makers. The graveyard silently declared why the natives found something amiss. Eight graves, all of adults, were open and empty, and the only footprints visible went AWAY FROM the graves.

Diskoduck used his flying ability. I remind readers that the whimsical artifact which gave him this power compels him to include turns and curves in his flight path, never going far in an exact straight line. Just because.

Malarkey, meanwhile, called out to the watchful cosmic sentries, Timekall and Astrosmeller, putting them on alert against any variant of walking dead. Adam Wornsock was near enough to all-knowing that he also picked up the shambling-corpse alert. Ultraviolet Griffin, who could fly and who could inflict MAJOR sunburn, ended up getting vectored to locate the zombies and incinerate them. This, of course, had no effect on their immortal souls.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

((DRAFTING : Barndora and Mythical will eventually drop in on Earth-Whichever ))
 
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_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Your Triply Superior Honor," Mason Perry intoned, "am I to understand that you are displeased with the people of Claybank Bend Village?" Mason was referring to the nearest native town.

The Living Appeals Court's three mouths answered in a rapid rotation; by this time, the masterly jurist had learned that this trick was intended to affirm that the galactic inquisitor was in unanimous agreement with himself. "It is perhaps a technicality.... but we of the bench.... cannot ignore the well-attested fact.... that in the past five days.... no one in Claybank Bend.... has brought a lawsuit.... against anyone else there. \ Though circumstantial.... this potential negligence.... gives probable cause.... to inquire into the likelihood.... that the regional citizens.... are willfully neglecting to sue each other."

Mason Perry heroically retained a straight face. "Your Honor, it is most likely that the good folk of Claybank Bend have been inspired by your integrity to negotiate with each other out of court. By this means, they hope to leave Your Honor unburdened, ready with all your faculties to prosecute the master criminal Doctor Handmitten, who remains at large."

Kimchee Man, the biochemical and martial superhero from Terra's version of Korea, could fly in brief spurts, but was less mobile than some of the heroes in this vicinity, so hung around with Mason Perry. Martin "Atomic Scalp" of Urth labored under a similar flight limitation, so he and his wife Ululani were also sticking around, alternating up-times with Kimchee Man. Puma-Claw and Captain Sha-Na-Na, also native to Terra but able to fly freely, did their own swapping of airborne sweeps. When Doctor Handmitten finally came back to Redundantworld, the mixed hero-group wanted to furnish immediate combat support for the comparatively benign immortal.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

In the planet's tropical belt, Black Admiral was patrolling along a huge extent of jungles. With him were two Heart Sapphire Sisters, Tiba-bo-Tola and Shibwazushu. The former was reproductively identical with Earthly humans, really only different in that her long crimson hair included tails rooted on her shoulders. Because of this feature, what held up most upper-body garments for women of that race was loops around the neck. The other Heart Sapphire, Shibwazushu, was a true mammal, and also could reproduce with a human male, but differed in appearance far more than Tiba's race did. Shibwazushu had scaly skin, but smooth to touch, not scratchy. The only hair on her head was a tail rooted atop her scalp, a bit longer than Tiba's shoulder-tails. (Males of that species had hair around the back of the head, joining a beard in front.)

Tether Zappem, a.k.a. Black Admiral, had met Shibby, fallen in love with her for her bravery, and married her, all since he had heard about Redundantworld needing heroes.

"There!" Tiba shouted, pointing down at a jungle clearing. "Skeletons marching!" The delayed-action tactic of the Fataldeathalyzers had chosen multiple rural places for the undead outbreak. The two Sapphire Sisters descended far enough to use their eyes and their life-probing ability. Shibwazushu soon called, "Undead, confirmed! We'll nudge innocent animals out of the way....."

When the downrange area was cleared, Black Admiral used just enough lightning to shatter the skeletons.

******** THERE'S ENOUGH CATCHING UP IN GALAXY THREE , SO I CAN REVISIT BAT - EARTH .
 
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]]]] "Ohhh, what have you sung? \ You're singing so loud, you'll damage a lung, oh daughter, \ Yooou sing on a stage! \ Yes, mother, in fact, it's earning my wage, here! at! the! \ Wink Slowly Club, I'm gonna keep on singing at the Wink Slowly Club....."

On the property of the Audacious Angus Ranch in eastern Colorado, the high-plains fairground and festival had been prolonged well beyond its expected run. Various talent had been drawn there by the opportunity to entertain fairgoers without needing to appease the micro-managing of the Oneness Pioneers. Stunt rider Shirley Digs-Many-Roots had acquired an adoring fanboy in the person of Bartolomeo Wayans, nephew of Street-Bat. Nor was the young Cheyenne horsewoman the only talented female here on the outskirts of Limon to make a conquest of a man worth having. The red-haired Chandelle Rune enjoyed the full attention of Street-Bat's gallant henchman Alvin Springbuck.

In the brief interval between two songs, Alvin said to Wayans family chauffeur Heinrich Austerlund, "The media make her out to be thirty-one, but she doesn't look a day over twenty-five at the very most."

"Well, I hear that she avoids destructive habits. But she might look still younger if she hadn't had some rotten experiences with men. And you don't have to prompt me: of course she would be lucky to have a man like you in her life." Heinrich looked around before continuing. "You know the Commandant will be giving an announcement an hour from now, don't you?" The chauffeur was referring to Yvette Emerson, the highway patrolwoman who had risen to headship of the state police. It was not generally known how supportive she was of President Hegel, but at least she had suppressed low-level corruption in the law-enforcement culture.

"Yes, I'm aware: even aware that Deuce will be on the podium with Commandant Emerson."

A female voice, a little bit mellower than Chandelle's, piped up from directly behind the two men. "I'm waiting to hear how that goes."

Neither Heinrich nor Alvin was familiar enough with singer Symphony Britt to recognize her voice by itself. But upon turning toward the voice, they both recognized a woman whom they knew to be in her early forties, yet who genuinely looked like a well-kept thirty-year-old. Her figure was in no way inferior to Chandelle's. If anything could be said to make her face look more like forty, it was rather a matter of expression than of skin health. It was known that Symphony's blonde hair was fake; but her face was the face of a survivor who had refused to give up when her life had been unfair. So let her hair be any color she liked; her face was the face of a woman who had bounced back and refused to quit.

Heinrich Austerland had recently married, and was fully satisfied, so he nodded to Symphony with a "Well met, Miss Britt," then left it to Alvin to do any chatting. Alvin could not be accused of cheating on Chandelle when they had never even been introduced.

"Miss Britt, do you care to tell me what precisely you anticipate finding out?"

Symphony Britt, though by no means forgotten, was much less of a current star than Chandelle Rune. She had received and granted enough autograph requests before approaching the main entertainment area, that she could feel vindicated as not being an utter has-been. As the next song began, Symphony fished out a small notepad-- as in, a >paper< notepad. Like Earth-Whichever, Bat-Earth is somewhat behind other Earths in technology. In ink on paper, she displayed words to Alvin: I'm wondering how good a man Deuce Wayans is. Almost any man would be better than Dustin Lumberlake, but I can't help wondering if a rich and famous man like Wayans can be good in spite of being spoiled and privileged.

Alvin held back something he >could< have told the long-suffering songbird. She would find out soon just >how< good Mr. Wayans was.


Seven songs later, Miss Rune took a break, and Commandant Yvette Emerson came to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a surprise announcement for you. In fact, it's for the nation. You know that the Dwayne family has taken charge of videocording today's concert, and this will include the surprise announcement."

Deuce joined Yvette onstage, followed by several persons who represented the ruling party and the Oneness Pioneers. Shirley Digs-Many-Roots and Bartolomeo Wayans were among people who converged below the stage from other parts of the fairground.

"Thank you for your attention," said Yvette. Deliberately not looking at Alvin, she went on: "What you are about to hear is already known to me, to several other law-enforcement officials, particularly in Gossamer City.... and to at least one man down there in front of me. Think of it as good news. Deuce, please take the podium. You deserve nationwide admiration for your humanitarian efforts, both under the banner of 'Be The Change,' and in projects of your own conceiving, helping to rehabilitate men and women who lost their way in life. I'm done; go for it!"


The movie-score composer Danny Elfman didn't exist on this version of Earth; but the loudspeakers played a short fanfare similar to a Danny Elfman composition.

"Greetings, Coloradans and everyone else. For years now, the elusive man called Street-Bat has fought crime in America, capturing lawbreakers without ever >killing< even one of them. He has also been involved with investigating the still-mysterious actions of the elemental being called Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin. Constituted authorities are unanimous that Street-Bat is >not< an enemy of society."

Later, seeing this moment replayed on television, Washday Anagram, Maxie Viva and Sibyl Dampning would all spew naughty words.
 
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Deuce got to the point. "After much deliberation, I am convinced that what I'm about to tell you is better told than kept secret any longer. The state police commandant here can confirm that I underwent a lie detector test, verifying that what I will now repeat, is true.

"I.... am.... Street Bat."

In almost any other universe which included a version of Batman, such a revelation would have been yawned at, with people saying, "Of course, we figured it out after your first twenty or thirty adventures." But the number of times Alvin, Chang-Shi and Face Twister Maskoflage had appeared in Street-Bat guise in places where Deuce was also present, had kept people fooled. And yes, when all was said and done, it >had< helped things for Deuce not to pretend he >wasn't< strong and combat-capable. Now he gave the mike back to Yvette, who said:

"The United States Justice Department has already approved of a step which I recommended when Mr. Wayans disclosed his secret to me. Deuce Wayans, here is your new badge. You have been appointed as a reserve United States Marshall, with considerable discretion in your actions. The Attorney-General, with concurrence from President Hegel, is authorizing you to perform arrests, and-- subject to your own matter of conscience-- to carry weapons." Yvette looked at the spectators once more. "It is not an urban legend that Street-Bat refuses to take a life. He believes that with wisdom and strategy, he can avoid any dilemma in which his >failing< to slay a villain would cause >innocent< people to die."

The government being less than thrilled about officials believing in God, Yvette refrained from specifying that Deuce looked to the Almighty to spare him from such a dilemma. He could not treat this as a universal rule, because he knew that, in Old Testament Hebrew, the Commandment "You shall not kill" translated more accurately as "You shall not MURDER." But his convictions for his own conduct were his convictions.

Deuce took up his address again. "I do not demonize military servicemembers who must kill enemies to protect their own people. But my fight against crime embraces the hope that wrongdoers may be converted to the side of good. Bartolomeo?"

Deuce's nephew joined him and took the mike. "Ladies and gentlemen, a few of you may be aware that Uncle Deuce once owned a pistol designed to shoot non-lethal plastic stun-rounds. He eventually gave it to Grandmother Beatrice for her own protection. As a full-circle gesture, I now present my uncle with a similar gun, only with greater magazine capacity." Handing over the pistol with holster, he withdrew.

"Thank you, Bart. In case anyone hasn't anticipated what comes next: yes, it has already been demonstrated, back while my secret life still was a secret, that a stand-in Street-Bat could also be a proficient hand-to-hand fighter. Therefore, you all can expect a Street-Bat >still< to be on patrol; and, being a man worthy of trust, he will not necessarily tell even >me< what his next mission will be."
 
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Farther east, Washday Anagram, Sybil Dampning (the one with hair on only one side of her head) and Maxie Viva turned off the television after the bombshell. All of them blurted in exact unison, "I knew it all the time!" Then Washday glared at Sybil, Sibyl glared at Maxie, and Maxie glared at Washday, all of them snapping, "You didn't know, only I knew!" Then Washday glared at Maxie, Maxie glared at Sybil, and Sybil glared at Washday, all shouting, "I did so know it!"

Sybil and Maxie were lucky that Washday had never physically struck any other female unless in self-defense. Therefore she quarreled with her fellow male-bashers >only< verbally. At last they tired of the ego contest, and found something else to watch after ordering their vegan supper. After they had eaten, Washday's Uncle Jester phoned her to report a rumor which will be addressed farther down.

A live talk show featured two >more< female singers, both significantly older than Symphony Britt. Lindy Soper, naturally blonde, looked exactly like a once- beautiful woman who understood how to age gracefully. She was dressed tastefully, with hardly any makeup. Definitely no ruinous cosmetic surgery. The program's hostess, Eileen Disingenuous, asked Lindy, "What's your own favorite of your songs?"

Lindy's natural smile was made of cheerfulness rather than garish lipstick. "I need to choose >two< favorites. For an upbeat mood, 'Fun Just Needs To Have Girls.' For tenderness, 'Time Into Time'."

The other guest croaked, "None of that _________ has the energy in >my< songs! That's why everyone adores ME!!!! Why do you even have this amateur in the studio? Everybody loves my body! I have all the talent! If I could >ever< die, the world would always remember me!"

In case readers haven't figured it out, the second guest was my counterpart-- not very far removed, either-- of Madonna. If you've seen what the actual Madonna on Original Earth looks like >now,< you'll understand why my spoof-name for her is "Mummydonna." My counterpart of Cyndi Lauper now casually addressed Mummydonna: "I bet Mizzz Disingenuous would like to hear which of your own songs you figure are best."

Not letting their hostess get a word in, the face-lifted pop diva hobbled closer to the studio. "Anything I record is in a class by itself, but let me think. 'No Substitute For Self-Love,' 'Be Worshipful To My Heart,' 'Open Your World To Me,' 'Beautiful Tummy-Tuck Scars,' 'Like A Detergent,' 'High Flying, I'm Adorable,' 'Pay the Surgeon'....." She kept this up right through the commercial break. But Eileen Disingenuous used perfect timing to signal for live camera while Mummydonna was catching her breath. This made it possible for the broadcast hostess to be already speaking to Lindy Soper as they came on the air again.

"You know what I've always liked about your stage presence, Lindy? Although in youth you could stand alongside supermodels without looking drab, you always had a free and casual attitude toward your own good looks. You were like, 'Hey, if you think I'm pretty, that's great, but if you don't, no worries, I'm enjoying myself either way.' On the other hand, a certain obsessive- compulsive singer is like, 'Hey, you dumb goobers, get over here and worship me for my fabulous beauty!' I can get behind your easygoing...."

Eileen got no further before Mummydonna screeched with fury, stumbled toward the hostess, and threw a punch.

But the chief effect of the punch was that Mummydonna's fist broke off at impact with Eileen's face. The interviewer barely swayed in her chair, while the petulant prima-donna's hand fell to the floor.

A stage manager brought a roll of duct tape, and reattached the fallen, wrinkled hand. Mummydonna didn't bleed.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Uncle Jester's call had concerned a character not yet mentioned in any of the story-arcs of my serial. Jester knew of an ambitious archaeologist named Alabama Jones, who reportedly hoped to uncover more facts about the earth-dragon Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin. Rumor Central suggested that Street-Bat was interested in facilitating Alabama's investigation. The passing of the Street-Bat mantle probably would not change what was really DEUCE WAYANS' interest in this clue-hunt.

Washday Anagram did not fear Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin; she had already interacted with it without suffering any harm. As for Alabama Jones, he apparently was on good terms with Deuce Wayans, and Wayans was guilty of the dastardly crime of refusing to be clobbered by Washday. Sybil Dampning offered a suggestion: "I bet you could steal Jones' hat and jacket, then make people forget he ever lived!"

%%%% NOTE TO SELF: Remember, Deuce must eventually tell Symphony about Fojadosh and the Vitamin B-12 moss.
 
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NOW AT LAST, resume sorting out Redundantworld. Lots to do! Assume we pick up events BEFORE Lowblow arrives all cocky and smug. More catching up here than full-on story action.

Some or all of this post may become unnecessary as I proceed.


GRAY GRUMP has to be given a role; Lowerkey? Thorpe? ===== Lowerkey likely to be with Dmitri Tarasov = Tapper Cossack, and Aluminum Banshee,[/I] Martin and Ululani Alpert will still be with fellow-Urthian Atty-Gen. Mason Perry, reasoning w/ Living Appeals Court. Rotating watches with them are Terrans Kimchee Man, Puma-Claw, and Captain Sha-Na-Na.

SULLIVAN GRUNGY has to be crucial against Lowblow.
Walloper Woman with Grrrryyll? ===== In the warm-temperate north latitudes.

Kirk and Zoorama Slippage? ====== Their northern hospital still has Gurkhas and Brazilians guarding it. Welbymark of Hallpasscard is there.

Black Stingray (Yepyep Mammameya) and whatever watergoing heroes were with him? ===== Red-frog-form Green Flashlight Plabdof, able to breathe water. Other G.F.'s might be anywhere, but Plabdof stays with Yepyep.

Superhottie (Clara)===== most often in company with Green Flashlight Poradsimu

Refresh which other Green Flashlights are on hand! ======= Jamsorvad, cricket-like Shimtuku, friend of Adam Wornsock; Parbellik Magta with Dahudoran wife Luvardra. Bowsaw of Anoxia is with Ultraviolet Griffin, Eyesight and Crimson Witch are on the Earthlike world which harbors survivors from the destruction of Flashgard.
 
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WAY WAY OVERDUE to pick up the Original Earth story of Perdido Carranza!
________________________

"One time, a novice half a year away from her permanent vows remarked, 'I wish I could have been on Earth to see Our Lord as He walked and ministered in person'."

Sister Immaculata, four years into her full-time calling, had recently begun facilitating an optional hagiography class at Monsignor Aquinas Romero's shelter in Chicago. She had a free hand choosing her lessons, and she never described any saint who had been a spouse and a parent. As for that, she disliked speaking to any adult man who was not sworn to celibacy. But this didn't mean she was gloomy. When teaching the lives of saints, she would bubble with enthusiasm, often tossing her wimpled head left and right, like some kind of cloistered cheerleader.

"Saint Teresa joyfully replied, 'But do we not have the very living body of Jesus before us every day in the Eucharist? How could anyone wish for more?' "

Saffron Freeburg had taken a break from listening to songs by Ava Max, to attend Immaculata's class for the first time. She had mellowed considerably since the day of her unsuccessful assault on Willie Ekubo. In fact, she was sitting beside him. Catching his eye, she whispered, "Do you want to tell her, or should I?"

Willie whispered back: "You do it. She's more likely to listen to a girl."

Having learned a sense of tact from the Monsignor and the Reverend Mother, Saffron allowed the teacher to rattle on that everything was about Holy Communion plus the Rosary. Only when Immaculata paused to inhale did she stand and say: "But Sister, did anyone ever hear a communion wafer SPEAKING ACTUAL WORDS?"

Immaculata blinked. Mother Elizabeth appeared from someplace and made the save:

"The body of Jesus does give us life, and the Rosary does maintain our connection with Our Lady. But there is indeed a place for specific statements to be made. Of course Sister Immaculata wouldn't bother speaking lessons, if the mere existence of the Eucharist automatically TOLD US all necessary facts."

Later that day, Elizabeth caught an opportunity to whisper to Willie in private: "I don't believe that Saint Teresa even did say that. She didn't achieve sainthood by implying that Papal declarations were not required just because the Eucharist existed. Anyway, I congratulate you on doing so well with Saffron."

Pleased by the compliment, Willie went on to tackle the data management work which he had long been doing for the mission. Later, he logged back into Dancing Lawn, picking up with a scene in the "Punksteema" plot arc.

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

Brandy Carranza worked a lunch-and-supper shift at the soup kitchen. "Soup kitchen" is the traditional term, but this one enjoyed enough support that they could offer a larger percentage of solid food. Serving beside Brandy was a younger and plumper woman, called Evercharm Green.

During a lull in the feeding, Evercharm did Brandy the great (in Evercharm's opinion) favor of reciting an autobiography sample. "My ex never cared ______ about me. Cold as an ice-cube tray! He was always working and working, only cared about his ______ing job, never gave me any attention."

Brandy weighed her choices of response, then opted for the following:

"I won't argue against anything you said. But in my own case, my Perry WAS attentive-- as attentive as I allowed him to be. Sometimes I accused him of not caring when he worked overtime; but if he reduced his hours to please me, I would curse at him for not earning enough to buy me every fancy thing I wanted. Either way, I often snapped at him for wanting children. I wanted to find fault with him no matter what he did.... ACTUALLY because I was getting interested in other men, so I wanted to believe I had a right to step out on him."

Evercharm's face closed up, which in itself said plenty.
 
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I remind my readers that Willie Ekubo is neither an abuse survivor nor an orphan. He still had a family, and spent only as much time at the mission as he chose to: much of it in paid work, with his parents happy that he was gaining a head start at building a suitable career for himself. (Child welfare caseworkers were satisfied that Willie was not being coerced to do anything against his will, nor working in adverse conditions.)

Mr. and Mrs. Ekubo even joined The Dancing Lawn, after learning how much their son enjoyed it. Oddly enough, THEY discovered something sooner than Willie did. Willie's love of sci-fi and fantasy had kept him focused on "Spacebullies," plus the various Narnian fanfic stories by T.D.L. members. It was left to Mr. and Mrs. Ekubo to discover Copperfox's other best-known Writing Club story: "The First Love of Alipang Havens." This was about the journey to manhood of a boy who, like Willie, was smarter than most of his age-peers. They were intrigued by the character of war veteran Wilson Kramer, who became like an uncle to Alipang; and further intrigued by the redemption arc of the unfaithful wife Lorraine Kramer in "First Love of Alipang."

During a relaxing family night, Willie's parents told him about Copperfox's Alipang Havens saga-- adding that they had seen its extension into "The Possible Future of Alipang Havens." Mrs. Ekubo remarked that the happy ending for the Kramers was just what they would pray that the Carranzas would also find, particularly stressing that Lorraine Kramer had found the honesty NOT to attempt blame-shifting when she alone had wrecked the marriage: a type of honesty which they knew Brandy Carranza was displaying. "That's exactly what gives us hope for Brandy."

Mr. Ekubo had been intrigued by Copperfox's extrapolation from world conditions around fifteen years earlier. "It's common for science fiction authors to assume that science will advance more quickly than it ends up doing. You and I know that there ISN'T any permanent habitat on the Moon yet, but Copperfox's guesses were entertaining. And if a Soviet-style tyranny were to take over the United States, it really might treat Christians the way he imagined."

+ + + + + + + + +

"Thank you, Perry, thank you for letting me come along." Lucy Oakland, maternal aunt to Brandy Carranza, was officially authorized to address Perdido Carranza as Perry. Chicago traffic now provided them with plenty of time to talk. Lucy had never bought any of her niece's lying excuses for cheating, yet had never severely scolded her either. Between the numerous people who had idiotically enabled Brandy's infidelity, and a few others who seemed ready to tar-and-feather her, Aunt Lucy had understood the difference between grace and complicity.

Brandy's moral support at their first post-separation meeting was Mother Elizabeth. Saffron was also present. The senior nun thanked Perdido for coming, then fell silent. Aunt Lucy hugged Brandy, murmuring, "Where we are matters less than which direction we're moving." The betrayed husband stayed just far enough away to indicate that he was not soliciting any physical touch, but he said "Lucy's right," then listened to his wife.

"I think about you day and night, Perdido. I understand now just how much you did for me. I'm trying to become the woman I should have been, and you were SO right to recommend my volunteering at Monsignor Romero's shelter. I've seen some people who are worse than I ever was, and seen some of them becoming better than I am--so far."

"That's good to hear, Brandy." Then Saffron piped up: "I'm sure less of a snot now than I was." Elizabeth patted her shoulder, after which Brandy resumed.

"Negative examples are helping, too." She told him about Evercharm Green, without naming her.

After more talk about the mission's virtues and Brandy's progress, Perdido told her, "I'll always remain honest with you." He did not remind her that she HADN'T been honest, but he did say, "I believe that restoration is possible. Not yet guaranteed, but everything going on here gives me hope."

Later, when Saffron told Willie about the meeting, their conversation included contrasting Brandy's genuine remorse with Evercharm's habitual self- justification. This prompted Willie to describe a "Spacebullies" episode to his friend: the scene where Daisy Anne Marshwood complained about Cornell prioritizing the defense of civilization over Daisy's wish to have a man worshiping at her feet.

"I wonder what this Copperfox dude is really like," said Saffron.

"I hope he's a good enough man that his imagining so many good-hearted characters isn't opposite from the man he is."
 
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/////// Punksteema now!!!!!!! --starting in Austreejuntzland.

Riding in a carriage from Beldamore Shire to Tasmuth Shire were Sir Sean Fiddleton, Parson Heathwell Fairwind, and Heathwell's wife, the former Elsa Marshwood. Trotting tirelessly beside that carriage window where he could see his master, was the noble wolfhound Readyrough. Driving the carriage was Retired Dragoon Sergeant Barker Westcreek-- who had not served directly under Cornell Brendan, but who shared every dragoon's high esteem for the General.

Rolling along the approach to the reasonable-sized Weatherby house, the travelers beheld four constables talking to the owner. Behind the lawmen lay a blanket-covered corpse. Coming nearer, Barker saw, and the passengers presently saw, that John Weatherby's attire was torn. Nearer still, a shallow cut could be seen slanting down his face. Readyrough was visibly wanting to investigate, but Sir Sean told him, "Heel."

Heathwell and Barker approached the solemn gathering. "Master Weatherby, are you safe?" Barker asked.

"Safe enough, no thanks to my treacherous guest." Weatherby gestured to the corpse. "None other than Darden Quicktrout, the art seller and gambler from Gloomenghast. After I treated him as a friend, he intended to murder me and escape with all he could carry off. I understand that Sir Tandauzer of House Gloom suspected Quicktrout of skullduggery. He was right."

"One less rascal at large," harrumphed the coachman. Elsa asked Weatherby, "Do you want us to inform Daisy Anne of your close call?"

"Thank you, Miss Marshwood, but I'll shortly be at liberty to come down to Hardbiscuit Cottage and reassure my betrothed."

Obedient to Sir Sean, Readyrough showed no sign of being ill at ease. Sir Sean was disgruntled enough for them both, at the brassy nerve of John Weatherby presuming to call Daisy his fiancee.

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

North of Queen Juliet-Andrea's domain, in the principal Tohazzite seaport, the Tengu Sidzenso was keeping himself available for any need of the human population hereabouts. His kin-female Ritsuhai had dropped in to check on him since the last chapter to take place on the coastline of the Equatorial Ocean. Finvoldin True-Thrust the cold-land Elvish spearman, highly knowledgeable about undead manifestations, conversed with some of the more alert-minded humans about the powerful Whitewashers. These had seemingly been created or summoned by the witch Nazuvuzid, who had been in the necromancy business before Jaheg-Jorod. A few Tohazzites, while knowing that the once-human Jaheg- Jorod was absolutely real, doubted that the Whitewashers were. But to the more alert souls, Finvoldin carefully described the ways that the icy ghouls could be defeated.

Less dramatically, Billyboy Jeralo-- in human shape-- convoyed Hostiguth Yorof, the Captain of Skilled Labor in the making, to the nearest market, where they could purchase various practical items for the promising leather-worker.

Meanwhile, Ronald was demonstrating his sturdy cut-and-thrust rapier to other townsfolk. Nearly all straight-bladed swords made in Tohaz were either slender foils or hand-and-a-half broadswords.

"Curved swords, be they sabers, scimitars or this country's remarkable claw-swords, have the attribute of delivering all the momentum of a strike at one spot. Much like chopping with an axe. And the shock of contact sort of spreads both ways along the curve, thinning out the potentially weakening stress to the blade. Now, look at this...."

Walking to where there was a fence and extending his rapier forward, he rested the lower edge on the top of a fencepost. "Besides thrusting, the best attack with a rapier is what we call a draw-cut." In slow motion, he raised the blade, extended it farther, then drew it back, lowering it again and sliding the edge toward himself. "This move opens a mighty slice in your adversary. Now for the one weakness." Still slowly, Ronald lifted the blade and brought it back down.

"A crude chopping cut. The overarm swing has momentum, and the momentum wants to keep going. But unless what you're hitting is weak enough to be carved right through, the point end and the hilt end suffer the shock of the middle not letting them continue. It's as if you hopped to the bottom of a staircase from four steps up, and landed with your knees locked straight. Do this enough times, and you can shorten your sword's service life."

Sidzenso, already known to Tohazzite humans, made himself accessible to tell how his friends' activities were going. This included informing Prefect Bartok Yoder that Jonawiku son of Mufirozu would be arriving soon by ship, with a smart dog and a firearm- talented woman.
 
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"The freezing wickedness was here in the cellars of your great castle," declared the Gnome Peplijad, "but it passed onward, seaward. It's gathering momentum. The accursed Paoyasti Fonkifu is waiting to commit her strength in unity with Nazuvuzid, in a devilish campaign against the whole Six Nations River watershed." (I remind readers that Miss Fonkifu is a rarity: a corrupted Elf who is also a Frantic Druid. With the aid of Star Swallower who has an affinity for necromancers, she has a scheme to weaken all good magic.)

Among the midget stonemason's hearers were Princess Frootsalda Groan, Remick Whitegrove the schoolteacher with his daughter Jerusha, the prairie-folk brave Climbs-To-Moon, a Shangri monk named Koshib, Sergeant Sharpe of Brendan's Dragoons, and Whistler Jerkysalt of Sneeziya. Jerkysalt had already spoken with Peplijad. The Whistler's girlfriend Veevalamora Heartlifter had gone ahead, into Austreejuntzland, planning to scout present conditions there. Climbs-To-Moon was first to address Peplijad: "Do you think these unclean things will come back south after they show themselves along the seacoast?" The young plainsman glanced at Frootsalda; he had no delusions about ever having her as his own, but he did want very much for her to be safe. Then he looked back at Peplijad as the latter answered.

"Once in plain view, they'll go anywhere that isn't too warm for them to operate."

Rutger Sharpe was thinking tactics. "Of the ways Whitewashers can be stopped, fire is the most readily available. And a place made of stone isn't so much in danger from flames getting out of control. Your Highness, is the castle well stocked with the means of igniting fires if these icy ghouls attack?"

"It is, and our outer-dwellers are knowledgeable enough in old lore that they won't panic if the Whitewashers do invade. Jerkysalt's fellow Whistler--" <[meaning Malafesh, who has been seen in the action]> "--is at work with Brewster and Elijah, to supply our people with obsidian weapons."

Koshib had not said much during this visit. As I have said, English like our world's English is known in many Punksteeman countries, but is not indigenous to Shangri-Blah or Datsunsel. Peplijad and Jerkysalt could speak with him, and Climbs-To-Moon could sign with him. Koshib, however, was the only one who knew what the Gnome was carrying: the new McGuffin of Punksteema's new drama, the stone which had fatefully turned up at Peplijad's recent worksite in Shangri-Blah. It was the stone shaped like a tiny model of this world's big-plotline-device moon.

The Frantic Druids, who relied on bringing the Whitewashers in as planetside shock troops, must not be permitted to find out that the forces of good were preparing to carry the fight to the Frantics ON the moon.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Thank you all for coming. We stand at a crossroads of history. Before us is an opportunity to weaken the power of evil so greatly, that our great-grandchildren will enjoy a much safer and cleaner world."

Very far to the west or east from the Six Nations River area, depending on which way you look; in Hukshem on the north continent, one of the first Punksteeman realms to be depicted in our saga; numerous established characters had gathered at the Pril residence. T'Pinnok Zur, brother-in-law to D'Kovo Pril who was a young Towerman, had experienced more of his revelatory dreams. Besides the family, those present included Towerman Talusek Fernwood with his wife Feshri, Smoke Maiden Jillian Shard, her husband Howard who had founded the Captains of Skilled Labor, K'Zogar Poi the huntsman, Ranwyn Brightpetal of the Mellow Druids who honored the true God, and her husband the Mifdolan cleric Vicar Tegmorsh son of Tegloth.

T'pinnok went on: "We know that the foul necromancer Jaheg-Jorod still survives, and we know that he cooperates with the Frantic Druids who inhabit our moon. Some of the Frantics are in the Tohaz region of Wellvernia, close to Tidumo, paving the way for another necromancer to raise an undead invasion, worse than what happened years ago in Tablanor and Felruda. Sir Ronald of Goliad, restorer of the Order of Edgar Pallendin, is already in that region with certain companions, aiming to unite those who defy that evil. Moving to join him is Jonawiku son of Mofiruzo, the renowned Samplibami Towerman and ronin archer.

"Mistress Ranwyn here pledges to rally every available Mellow Druid, to conjure magical winds which can carry airships halfway around our world in less than three days, to transport reinforcements for our allies there."

In the spirit of what modern-day Original Earth would call "compartmented information with need-to-know," the dream-seer didn't tell his friends that good-aligned Wellvernians including Elves and Whistlers were hoping to carry the battle to evildoers ON the moon. Kind of like Mr. Tolkien's Gandalf not wanting Sauron to find out that the Ring was being smuggled to Mount Doom under Sauron's nose.

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

"To all who can hear my call in your minds: I am Rizlaya Tohir, the sorceress who dwells in Prethlonstead as an advisor to the Felrudean government. I am known to the seer T'Pinnok Zur, to the seer Felipe Catalano in Mifdola, to the Mellow Druids, to the Trail-Chooser of Upper Wenzeppu, and to the Order of Towermen. I am doing all I can to facilitate united efforts by the righteous to thwart foul conjurers in Wellvernia, who would bring ruin upon it and upon the rest of Punksteema.

"Yet there is never only one evil in our world. Some defenders of justice must remain free to counter other menaces. Towerman Wyatt Hickok with his followers, Towerman Nefekor with his soldiers, Towerman Roy Crinkly with his free companions, the Bear-Brothers of Mifdola, Smoke Maidens ranging on their own, and the knights of Bamulica, must remain autonomous to intercept other, unexpected threats to us all. May the Creator of worlds protect the righteous, and lead us to victory."

Since the overthrow of Chieftainess Grenlu Aviresku of Quelidar-- the woman who had persecuted airship designer Jizbrol Tazaff --Mr. Jizbrol (surname first in his culture) had been toiling to devise a way of sailing an airship to the moon without being wrecked by the turnabout in gravity. He had been researching the possibility of an elastic hawser with which the dirigible could "harpoon" the moon as it unnaturally cruised within the atmosphere. But the magical moon-stone found by Peplijad the Gnome was the missing piece; it would supplement Mr. Jizbrol's engineering, empowering heroes to make a round trip.
 
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"Has Rocksplitter found any spoor of Bloody Diggers?"

"None so far, Jarsken. But he found his noon meal, in the form of a dust viper. I think the Diggers realize a serious threat is here."

"Are they likely to be turning their attention to the track-layers?"

"Possibly; but even without any badgers to sense underground threats, the railroad crews are strong, smart and well armed."

Very far east-by-northeast from Tohaz, at the thriving mercantile compound east of Lower Wenzeppu, families from the Hodsup and "Snow Drinker" tribes were busily trading hides for useful goods. (Like our Native Americans at their best, these tribals did not wantonly slaughter beasts for sport, but harvested them as was needed, wasting nothing, and commending the spirits of the slain animals to the Creator.)

Two days before the good witch Rizlaya Tohir put out her globe- spanning call, five men who have been seen in our story before were scouting around east of the trading post. The older two were white, and the others were American Indian-equivalents. In descending order of age, these were Stelshuff Pindu, a war veteran from distant Brishlo, accompanied by Rocksplitter his war-badger; Jarsken Bowdrie, a Captain of Skilled Labor born in far-off Reslagor; Watchful Gopher, Dirt-In-Hair and Black Axe, the latter two being like brothers because Dirt-In-Hair was a very young actual brother to Black Axe's mother Singing Tree. Stelshuff the Brishlon had initially journeyed here to bring a vicious arsonist to justice. That being achieved, he and his animal comrade had remained in this territory, soon becoming part of anti-goblin patrols.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At some point while he was offstage, Roy Crinkly the Towerman-hunter had purchased a telescopic sight for his buffalo rifle from the Drovalish lens- maker Sazka faf-Boli. This had made him still more proficient at scoring quick, painless kills on game animals and threat animals. He and the tribals would as readily eat the flesh of carnivores as the flesh of grazing beasts; and they scrupulously avoided killing mother animals with dependent offspring. More than one reckless white poacher had been startled by a far-traveling bullet hitting dirt between his feet, sometimes closely followed by an arrow; the arrows had needed to take a high arc to match the bullets' range, but had also done well at scaring the offenders.

Returning to the trading post from one such patrol with Black Axe, Roy learned that Singing Tree had undertaken a vision quest. "I was told that in the very near future, human skills and invention will grow in importance. Magic will not cease to exist, but the cleverness of persons like Jarsken will gallop farther than ever."

Noon Runner nodded. "Consider the seeing glass on Roy's mighty rifle, which was made by a woman of high skill." Dirt-In-Hair added, "No doubt the iron roads will increase. Perhaps better thus, than if oxcarts went everywhere without limit."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Far away from the previously-narrated incident, the Valtorkan wagoneer Skagruth Johnston had an experience more striking than Singing Tree's vision quest. Sleeping beside his load-pulling camelopards, he beheld a creature he had never seen or heard of, a pale winged serpent. Wyatt Hickok and Mistress Odilladet had seen the Colorless Quetzalcoatl before, but they knew of nobody who had ever seen him twice.

"Master Skagruth, I am a servant of the True God. I am bringing news to worthy mortals, to men and women who keep human society moving. Before long, people of high talent will advance against the Frantic Druids who occupy the moon. But one of the leaders of these reprobates has mastered a deep enchantment using black sponges. The mystic symbolism of dark sponges is exactly what you are guessing. Mellow Druids, Towermen and other good-aligned adventurers are converging. Some of these are being allowed to use power to travel to a rendezvous with the moon; special magic of their own will permit them to descend upon the evildoers. But once inside the enemy's defenses, they will be required to use material means to prevail, because they won't be able to rely on magic to guarantee success. Indeed, spells they try to cast might be swallowed by the sponge-power, helping the evildoers instead of combating them. This is why I am not permitted to fight beside the heroes.

"The All-Maker will strengthen them, but they will need to do their own fighting, like anonymous footsoldiers in a secular war. When Punksteema advances into its future, although reality will never be only material, the survivors will see new roads for tangible progress."
 
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~~~~~ Azellajo, one of the few surviving relatives of Jonawiku's wife Shuhiro, still was camped in the north-continent rural area where goats were raised, together with her younger brother Igsahon, plus Fist-of-Ice from Tagdoss with his son Bronze Raven. The Tengu Dijimoyat had been with them for much of the time, between recon flights. Returning from the latest outing, he brought remarkable news, concerning the dethroned aristocracy of Silnarp. "You'll find this hard to believe; I barely believe it myself. But Omar and Cleopatra MacFrancis have decisively come across to the right side!"

Igsahon blinked. "We knew that you and other Tengu were checking on the Count and Countess...."

Dijimoyat gave a beaked nod. "And we had quicker success than even Matriarch Zutozar hoped for. The MacFrancises are dispatching their man Balzik with a party of warriors-- including two men who can operate a newly-built rattle-gun, aboard an also-new airship. They propose to bring you with them, to the environs of Tohaz. If teamed up with Odilladet, they can alternate reloading, to keep the enemy continuously under fire."

"Will you Tengu fight as well?" asked Bronze Raven.

"As much as will actually be any help. We can't let the vile Paoyasti and her coven strengthen themselves by means of our supernatural strength." Dijimoyat explained about the sponge magic, then went on: "One of our people will bring Mistress Mukuma from Samplibam. Her power is purely spiritual; Paoyasti's theft of power will be ineffective against her. If the Whitewashers are summoned against us, her presence will be like a fierce opposing wind: slowing their advance, while not hindering our side at all."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"It's no sin for a Labor Captain to be paid for plying his craft. You're a natural to make sword belt, baldric, hilt wrapping and sheath for each new rapier; and if any makers of claw-swords feel threatened, I'll offer to facilitate export of their blades to interested fighters in the north."

In the chief Tohazzite seaport, many affluent local men, and a few of the physically strongest women, had taken interest in owning cut-and-thrust rapiers. Ronald of Goliad had permitted local metalworkers to study his rapier, while adding details about their making. Sword-instructed women would have the opportunity to test equivalent weight for a proposed rapier customized for them.

The day after his above-cited remarks to Hostiguth, Ronald was at the waterfront, chatting with sailors-- especially with any who might offer clues about Frantic Druids diving deep in the sea-- when someone else more interesting came jogging toward him, accompanied by a middle-aged woman and a collie with a crooked tail. The dog had a bundle on her back: irregular in shape, as if some fair-sized apparatus were disassembled and wrapped up. Before he had time to realize that this was a rattle-gun, Jonawiku son of Mufirozu was cheerfully embracing him. Then: "This, Ronald, is Mistress Odilladet Gohuhal, who has more knowledge about necromancy than she ever wanted to have. And my dog is named Fish Hook; if she had thumbs on her paws, she could probably learn to write."

The friends had plenty of reports to exchange. This included Jonawiku telling Azellajo's history, and Ronald relating how Elves, Whistlers and other factions were trying to forge effective cooperation against Frantic Druids and other unpleasant persons along the Six Nations River, and in support of the campaign to conquer the moon.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In Bildamore Shire of Austreejuntzland, John Weatherby's reputation had not suffered from his successful self-defense against the late and unlamented Darden Quicktrout. Darden really had attempted to murder John and plunder his house.

"Sick in the head, poor chap," sighed the young rake. "Living from infancy in that horrid oversized burial vault, he was trying to catch up with the civilized world. I wish there'd been more time to educate him, to heal him."

For the first time in their furtive meetings, Daisy-Anne initiated a kiss with her on-the-way-to-it lover.

"Oh, how fortunate I am to have met such a great-hearted man as you are! You can face danger if you must; yet unlike some, you take no delight in the madness of war. If God wills it, what excellent children you and I shall raise!"
 
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At a much-used campground on the northern fringe of Datsunsel, the Stone Frog-style fighter Bidyang son of Kulyang was meeting with men of the nearest thing the Datsunsha secular community had to a conventional army: the border patrol. Their duties were pretty much what one might expect, such as chasing off any sort of bandits or predatory beasts who might intrude on the outlying farmers.

Choothak, a Gnome employed as metalworker, leatherworker and horse veterinarian for this guard platoon, asked Bidyang, "Has anyone higher up mind-spoken to you lately? Maybe mentioned any sign of undead things rising up?"

"This much," said the kung-fu man. "Impressive allies are converging on Tohaz. Of special note, the Towermen Ronald and Jonawiku."

About an hour after everyone had eaten lunch, they were joined by a Datsunsha tradesman riding a mule, and a horseman of a tribe related to the Jardekka. Introduced to Bidyang by the tradesman, the tribal visitor gave his message by signs, words, and pointing at a map of burn-marked lines. In substance:

Nine days' ride away from here, halfway between my tribe and the Jardekka, ugly people, people the same as bad people in stories from across the unending sea, rose out of the earth in the very center of my village. They killed six people and two horses, without warning, then killed five more people after our warriors reacted against them. We slew all of them, tossed their heads down their hole, filled it with rocks, and sent the best surviving foot-racers to alert the nearest camps. No follow-up raids reported; this must have been a probing attack, maybe letting their young warriors get a taste of blood.

Bidyang spoke to his friends about this. Choothak was like a scrambling rabbit as he took to his own means of alerting his kinsfolk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two countries north, in Pitcherton Palace, Count Peltrovik of Welskark was in the midst of a cordial visit with Queen Juliet-Andrea, when a party of renowned foreigners was admitted to the audience chamber. Three dark-skinned men, two fair-skinned women, a fair-skinned man and a fair-skinned near-adult lad, plus a dog resembling a True Earth border collie.

"You," said the Queen of Austreejuntzland to the eldest man, "are Sir Ronald of Goliad. I have met your friends Brewster of Goliad and Elijah Parsifal. This is Count Peltrovik, a Hultisnar noble of good report. You may tell him whatever you came to tell me."

Ronald nodded. "Your Majesty, like most of the world, knows who Jaheg-Jorod the Necromancer is. In recent years, he disrupted seven or eight nations on the opposite side of the world; and he already had resolved to carry multiple arrows in his quiver. Your Majesty certainly remembers the explosive device which was used against a Loi-Tidumo merchant ship."

Peltrovik interjected: "This was devised by whatever person or team is behind those quick-shooting guns."

"Correct, my lord. And Towerman Jonawiku has brought a specimen of the rattle-gun. The Queen's gunsmiths will be invited to get started examining the weapon and copying it for her army's use, possibly for ship defense as well."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In open country west of Gloomenghast Land, General Brendan, Ensign Strandwick, Sergeant Sharpe, Best Rope Maker, Climbs-To-Moon and their companions enjoyed the dubious privilege of being the first target of the Whitewashers. Nazuvuzid had not after all been so cooperative as to strike predictably right next to the Six Nations River.

One young Jardekka warrior caught the first intimation, as the earth turned harshly cold under his feet. Unlike the disposable early victims in Earthly monster movies, he didn't just wait to be killed. Scrambling away from the coldest place, he shouted a warning to everyone within hearing. And because he was no more stupid than he was cowardly (i.e. not the least bit of either), he was destined not to be killed in the action which ensued.

General Cornell Brendan, also neither cowardly nor stupid, already had a contingency plan for just such an assault. Some of the Dragoons, with some of the Native American counterparts, rapidly shepherded the horses (and Rope Maker's buffalo) in a direction which was both upwind of the threat, and out of the impending line of fire. Brendan had collected as much lore as he could about the things which were about to emerge from underground; silver bullets could not slay these monsters, and there was no such thing as obsidian bullets. But massed musketry would carry enough impact to knock even the Whitewashers off balance; some of the defenders possessed obsidian weapons including arrowheads; and ordinary torches, easy to ignite in a hurry, did have power to damage the monsters.

Then there was the part about cutting the things up so small that they couldn't reassemble the pieces of themselves. Saber at the ready as the frost-ghouls emerged, Brendan roared: "NO SHOOTING UNLESS LINE OF FIRE IS CLEAR! FOR MELEE, CUT THEM, DON'T STAB THEM!"

Setting an example was vital right now. Once in reach of a Whitewasher, Brendan swung at one of its legs-- the head being too high for him to be sure of severing it. But he got the head off when the thing stumbled forward.

At this point, Copperfox logged out and had supper. Don't worry, that monster won't be able to reattach its head before I get back.
 
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In real-world South Chicago: Willie Ekubo had come far enough reading our story to see early references to the Whitewashers. As a stereotypical fan of sexy vampires from "Twilight," Saffron Freeburg considered the less-glamorous Whitewalkers in George Martin's "Ice and Fire" novels a deep disappointment. Willie saw no need to try to convince her otherwise; his attention was now focused on reading the actions of heroes in the Punksteema plot arc.

In the first two minutes of the ensuing melee, Whitewashers caught three dragoons and two plains warriors, froze them solid, then shattered them like icicles. No magical contagion here; the spirits of the slain men simply went to the afterlife intact. Only the lurking Nazuvuzid, or possibly someone trained by her, could produce more Whitewashers.

General Brendan decapitated a second Whitewasher, then kicked the fallen head far away, as he had done with the first. His battlefield eye took in the fact that men with obsidian tomahawks had for-sure slain three of the fiends. Another dragoon fell with a shattered spine; but others, guided by Rutger Sharpe, concentrated their gunfire on one monster, jolting it off balance, which created the opening for Sharpe himself to cremate it with a firepot and oil. As this undead thing burned, Best Rope Maker directed his loyal buffalo cow to ram another Whitewasher from behind, pushing it down onto the already-blazing one. This spot would become a pyre for still more monsters.

In the end, eight men died, with twice as many injured; but all of the monsters were wiped out, except for two that escaped through their approach tunnel. Conceived and conjured to terrorize and slaughter defenseless populations, Whitewashers were less effective against warriors who knew what to do. "However," said Sharpe in the aftermath, "Our enemies will be sure to get combined forces into the field."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Billyboy, Hostiguth Yorof, and several Tohazzite acquaintances, were startled when Dijimoyat looked startled in his own right, shaking his wings. "The undead beings have opened the war! I don't sense Frantic Druid activity, but they might open fire any moment. Right now I really wish we had telegraph service."

The novice Labor Captain caught the Tengu's eye. "Will you scout that way by air?"

It was the doomrat detective who answered for his hawk-headed friend. "We don't know yet how much power Druid Paoyasti has to steal other people's magic. But Dijimoyat is a lot more magical than I am; just by flying, he announces that he has juju worth draining. I'm less obvious in every way; and Ronald is accustomed to me scouting solo."

Billyboy did get to tell his gunslinger brother-in-law what he meant to do; Ronald concurred that the Tengu did need to reckon with the danger of their magic being leached away by the black sponge power. "And you can travel with both haste and stealth, while the rest of us get organized. I'm aware that Queen Juliet-Andrea has lines of communication with wielders of righteous power; we can alert her while you press on southward."

Reinforcements for the menaced region were already on the way, some of them riding the airship "Vine Harvester."
 
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Only one airship would be able to benefit from the magical moonstone to land safely on the moon; but the Mellow Druids' wind could boost more than one dirigible to Tohaz, and there was plenty of work for ground forces to perform south of there. The Loi-Bavrid airship "Vine Harvester" had been made available as a troop transport; it was obsolescent compared with "King's Honor," but had a good carrying capacity, and the druidic wind would propel it. Neither dirigible was in danger of having people yanked overboard by wind; the enchantment for this flight would cause a volume of air to move with both airships to travel within a same-velocity envelope of air, as if sitting still.

Among riders on board "King's Honor" were four shooters who would not hear of being excluded from the impending adventure, and who could all carry their weight. Don Ysidro Lopez de Mifdola carried revolvers and a saber; Donnie Tonka, the combination baker and fighter, carried revolvers and a rapier like the rapier now used by Ronald of Goliad; and the young women Heejee-faf-Tujan and Yadiva Joloris both carried sniping rifles fitted with telescopic sights custom-made by Heejee's mother. There was also a mortar crew; a projectile of theirs could render it highly difficult for a dismembered Whitewasher to reassemble itself.

If I have never said that Heejee and Yadiva earned the status of Smoke Maidens, assume they have it by now.

In the city of Prethlonstead, General William Seldunin assigned a squad's worth of seasoned Felrudean infantrymen to go forth on "Vine Harvester" as assistance for whoever on the side of civilization in Tohaz needed them. The Loi-Bavrid aviators all had knowledge of mountain life. Two more Loi-Bavrid men, the mountain guide Shugdil with his son Shugsem (who had formerly helped Sir Ronald seek out signs of Jaheg-Jorod's activity), were ordained to help supervise mountainside projects in Datsunsel or points south. Commanding the Felrudean soldiers was an experienced soldier named Rodney Zeljin, freshly promoted to staff sergeant. Representing Tablanor were Silas Larkburg the mighty spiritual warrior, and a well- credentialed mechanical engineer from the Compass Railway named Bruce Mackey, who could guide Wellvernians to get locomotives running in the best-case postwar future.

A future, they all prayed and hoped, in which the Mellow Druids, not the other sort, would rule Punksteema's enigmatic satellite.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
 
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EARTH-WHICHEVER:
In Zimbabwe, the hunt for clues to magical activity was ramping up. Nabila "Alchemistress" Bint-Faisal had gifted many allies with a temporary ability to detect magic, especially teleportation magic. Recipients of this ability included two off- worlders: Jidong-Sadeem the orange-colored former War Witch, and Inosanto "Water Scout" Bagwis who was native to the New Jersey of, yep, Jersey Earth.

During this, Patsy Slippage and Jidong were met by a local woman, who told them: "I've got some valuable plotline-advancing news for you. The Chinese Triad hoodlums who've been building a power base here have established a storage cave here, and built a gate at the entrance which can be locked. My neighbors and I are pretty sure that Upside-Down Leopard and his men don't know how to activate the items they found most recently."

Thanking the informant, Alchemistress and company headed for the reported location of the cave. There were four armed sentries there. Instructing the Zimbabwean soldiers accompanying them to make ready, Patsy brought Jidong with her in a move twenty meters to the left. Then the two very- presentable women showed themselves.

"Hello, boys!" / "Is this the way to the vacation resort?"

The distracted sentries fell prey to non-life-threatening wounds in their left shoulders. But Water Scout, examining the gate, found no means of opening it. Nor could the captured gangsters give any information.

To avoid the danger of stalling the narrative, Alchemistress exclaimed, "I sense a quasi-magical function occurring-- _there!_" She pointed in the same direction as she was facing. Shortly, a fourth-dimensional boom tube deposited before them a New Laziness-based couple, who were known to many Earthlings over on Jersey Earth. Inosanto definitely knew who they were: the good-aligned War Witch Big Barndora, and her New Laziness-born husband Wispy Mythical. Wispy possessed a power _much_ more unusual than mega-strength; years ago, this power had helped to retrieve a copy of the Anti-Strife Equation on Jersey Earth.

Jidong ran to greet them. "Sister Barndora, to what do we owe this helpful visit?"

With one arm around her fellow lady warrior, Barndora replied, "Whichever of your party has supernormal sensory gifts, King Highfyver became aware of this talent being exercised. The reason why he discerned this _particular_ case over intergalactic distance is because the contents of that cave include _another_ copy of the Anti-Strife Equation."

Patsy asked her: "Since we don't have Red Chunk here to break in, can you open this gate?"

"I can't, but my husband can. And his _way_ of doing it is just fabulous: he can MANIPULATE SPACE. With his own concentrated will, he can make a millimeter-wide opening be a broad passageway for him-- even though it will _seem_ unchanged for us onlookers-- and simply stroll through. Wispy darling, please-- wait a minute! Alchemistress, can you sense whether any _other_ items inside there would harm him?"

After concentrating, Nabila turned toward Wispy: "My sense of it is that nothing in there will hurt you merely by you touching it."

Happily, Wispy soon retrieved the New Laziness-originated flash drive holding the Equation. He handed it to Alchemistress. "Using this, you should be able to make all but the most adamant villains decide they'd rather be peaceful."
 
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"Mister Trauma, Mister Leopard, I am Lieutenant Gar Yen-Suk, in command of the Seventh Detachment of Enhanced Women. I am instructed to offer cooperation with you, because we share an interest in suppressing all freedom-- except for those who are more equal than others."

A glance below the waist confirmed for Blues Trauma and Upside-Down Leopard just what sort of women had just hailed them on this little-used road. The trousers and boots of their uniforms were customized to fit legs which had been re-articulated to resemble birds' legs. This was the anatomy of the least-fully-human species among the War Witches whom Trippenwonk had brought along for his unsuccessful invasion. After Trippenwonk and Granny Rudeness had fled from Earth-Whichever, this anthro-avian race had been the only War Witch race from which Beijing had gained multiple individual prisoners. Those actual aliens, and Chinese women who survived somatic alteration to acquire their strength and reflexes, were now shock troops for the People's Liberation Army. Their attempt to conquer Nepal, Bhutan and India had failed; but the Red Army War Witches were still useful for less-ambitious operations.

"Not necessarily a bad idea," said Upside-Down Leopard noncommittally.

"But to what end," Blues Trauma inquired, "will the party which denies all supernatural phenomena cooperate with our magic-user?"

"The paradox is easier to resolve than you might think. What you classify as magic, we can agree to regard as advanced science. What really matters is to rule out ANY TRANSCENDENT MORAL AUTHORITY which could rebuke the people's collective. Allow us to join you in taking inventory of long-lost magical devices, and we can unite in silencing voices of reli--"

Turbine-powered helicopters were not yet a thing on Earth-Whichever; so the Zimbabwean Army helicopters could be heard approaching. _Not_ audible, but soon visible, was a blue-garbed flying man, whose head was enclosed inside a gold helmet. The War Witches opened fire at the newcomers, but the magician's aura stopped the bullets.

"I am Fateful Doctor, from Urth. You cannot overcome us. You will now surrender. The Chinese nationals among you will be permitted to contact your country's embassy. Any and all magical implements or scrolls in this vicinity will be handed over to the Zimbabwean government, with a request that Mrs. Zoorama Slippage be allowed to study them when she returns to this galaxy."

As if to punctuate Fateful Doctor's ultimatum, Red Chunk finished a kilometer-long leap, then swept Gar Yen-Suk up under his arm. Between magic and muscle, the alliance of enhanced soldiers, Triad gangsters and wizardry was brought to a humiliating end.
 
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==\ Time for drafting stuff on, or connected with, R'world. Try to fit in BOTH Flashgard-Frypanna- Orphan Earth stuff, AND the tangent with Original Ickylinn. Gray Grump, arriving, will bring sonic stunners for friendly troops. I should say that he CAN'T speak any language native to this planet.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

FIRST OF ALL, REJOIN STRADIVARIAN AND GASFILLA ON DETERIORATING EARTH.

The horses were walking at an easy pace: what Bill Cosby on Actual Earth would have described as "Tee-kopp, tee-poopp, tee-kopp, tee-poopp." The former executioner would walk for hours on end, allowing Gasfilla to ride on alternating horses.

The next thing of interest to occur was when, after a stop to eat and rest, they heard crowd sounds from the other side of a ridge. Leaving his obvious-love-interest-when-we-get-around-to-that in a place of concealment with the horses, Stradivarian sneaked up the near face of the ridge, Hagensaber in hand. Music began playing, but in a bizarre scale, which seemed to re-divide three normal pitch intervals into five intervals. The result, to any normal human ear, was abrasive noise, yet there WAS a pattern to it.

None too soon, the racket ended, to be replaced--mercifully-- by a human voice talking in an absolute monotone: "You shall each extend your left foot toward the center of the circle, as far as you can without falling over. Stand in this way for a moment. Now return to your original position. Extend your right foot next, in the same fashion. Withdraw it. Next, put your left foot in WITHOUT resting any weight on it. Shake this foot vigorously; now resume the ready stance. Do the same with the right foot. Finally, do the Zoopy-Loopy, and turn yourself around. All who have absorbed Neesheedor wisdom will perceive that this is what it all is about."

If the activity leader had not revealed himself to be a Neesheedor, Stradivarian might have assumed the gathering on the far side of the ridge to be recreational. Now, however, he recognized it as a totally serious exercise in blind obedience. He therefore went back to where Gasfilla waited.

"Neesheedors over there. We both mount up now. Start northwest as quietly as possible. Only if they seem to detect us do we pick it up to a canter."

More of Stradivarian's quest later. We now return to Redundantworld.

|||||||||

"No, we haven't met," said Bryce Donner to Black Admiral and his Heart Sapphire bride Shibwazushu. "I was born on what some have taken to calling 'Earth-Whichever'." He changed back into his natural form. "This is me before enhancement: glad that I don't lose my personality when I go monster. I couldn't bear it if I were to harm someone innocent when I was the Grump."

Tiba-bo-Tola, the red-haired Sapphire Sister who was close pals with Shibby, drew close to the scientist and purred: "Intellect, strength, and a moral conscience. You and Tether --that's Black Admiral's birth name-- will get along well. But I hope you and I get along still better."

Lieutenant-General Timothy Moss on Earth-Whichever didn't have a daughter who looked like Liv Tyler, nor was there any counterpart of Marvel's Black Widow on Earth-Whichever. This left Bryce Donner perfectly free and available for a relationship with Tiba-bo-Tola.

The tall demi-human Redundantworlders, though grateful for their ongoing deliverance, did not find any of their benefactors romantically attractive; thus, the by-play between Tiba and Bryce was irrelevant to them. Highly relevant were the non-lethal subdual weapons; the few large cities on the planet had police officers, who would welcome this aid to non-violent arrests. Many contingents on Redundantworld were fully competent to help those communities manufacture similar mercy-guns.

While nitty-gritty discussions on this theme proceeded, Clara "Superhottie" Klint, cousin to Superdude, landed near Bryce. She obviously wanted to speak with him, but there was no cause for Tiba to feel jealous. "Excuse me, Professor Donner, I've been told who you are. Astrosmeller says that you can provide rayguns to pacify creatures without slaying them."

"Um, yes. That is, I have SOME stun guns, and more can be built. I believe I've heard of you, but who is Astrosmeller, and how does HE know what I came here to offer?"

"Astrosmeller is, um, a surveillance manager for a good-aligned civilization called Jumpstardeans. His observation resources excel even the heightened senses of Tonkrypians. He knew that you were coming, and urged me to seek you out and ask to borrow one of your weapons."

"Just borrow?"

"Yes, borrow. There's an agricultural region where farms are being wrecked by animals pretty much like mastodons. I've been picking the beasts up and carrying them to uncultivated habitats (this is a huge planet); but the poor things panic and struggle when I lift them, which of course heightens the danger of my hurting them accidentally. If I could use your device like medical anesthesia, then I could have the transfer of the herd completed in three or four planetary days."

Bryce nodded. "That's a worthwhile application if there ever was one. You may borrow a stun gun; I suspect that you're already acquainted with similar technology."

Tiba-bo-Tola was privately glad that Bryce Donner DIDN'T offer to accompany Superhottie on the humane-capture mission. Her forehead gem was insistently telling her that Bryce WAS the man for her.

Hmmm, if I haven't specified how Bryce Donner got to the Third Galaxy, let's agree that Fateful Doctor made it happen. The wizard, after all, is friendly with Kirk and Zoorama Slippage, who are on Redundantworld for an indefinite period.
 
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