Spacebullies Two: The Search For More Parody

Victory is costly, but still is better than defeat.

Despite all civil-defense measures, deaths of Zazdub civilians numbered in the thousands: this on a planet whose native population totaled fewer than ten million. "Primitive" though they were, the Zazdub were at heart decent enough to embrace the merciful ethics of groups like the Justified League. Captured Imperial personnel were spared, even treated for wounds-- but faced a life of convict labor to repair the damage they had inflicted.

Green Flashlight Jamsorvad had been part of the campaign to liberate the Cosmic Federation in the Second Galaxy; that experience had raised his awareness of how people's bodies and minds might be tampered with. It was he who first figured out what was keeping Superdude weakened. A scan with his power prosthesis located the red-light emitters resting in the Tonkrypian's stomach; then Doctor Unusual gradually levitated them back up the patient's throat and out his mouth. This being done, Truthside had some of his people accompany Superdude on a Tachyon Loop jump to Urth. Like other Earth-variants, this one had a yellow parent star, exactly the kind best suited to restore the hero's powers. Superdude's wife Luisa would see to her husband's convalescence. Urth authorities would soon use the same conduit to dispatch disaster-recovery aid to the Zazdub.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Planet Powurkord, Master Moose Windchime received Master Yoga-Rug's report that the Empire of Evil Badness had just had its back broken. Moose questioned his old instructor's image: "Is there a concerted effort underway to secure the liberation of enslaved worlds?"


"There will be," replied the Toofah-Roffian, "as soon as YOU and Melodica get it going. You have Only-One and Breathless with you; and Banjolorians on Powurkord will be glad to get in on this. Indabog, one of the mightiest Green Flashlights ever, is on his way to join you, bringing ten or more experienced Flashlights; and I can contact Trablo Kuldivan on your behalf, ask him to transport supplies for your expedition. We need to capture Planet Chisskurd; this will deflate any last-gasp efforts by Imperials to hold out against us."

Moose nodded. "Provided we pledge amnesty for all who surrender peacefully. Which we will."

Melodica, listening in, remarked, "Here's another time when there's a practical advantage in people knowing that we up-siders keep our promises. Moose, while you start organizing the expedition, I'll start speaking with specialists like Black Giraffe, asking them to accompany us."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kibbladibber, one of the tentacled fellows who had come with Preston from Awkwardlisp, stood beside the ruler whom he had come to worship for his goodness, as Preston Truthside addressed everyone from Earth-Whichever who could make it to this meeting. Also in attendance were the big turtle-shaped Gramsuli representing the Flashlight Corps, and a just-arrived Stellar Sapphire for the Justified League of Urth.

"Let me repeat my appreciation," Preston began, "for the loyalty and courage all of you have displayed, protecting a planet not your own. Your comrades who have gone to The Good Place will be gratified to know that you remain to uphold their valiant standard.

"The collapse of the Empire of Evil Badness will release many good-aligned people to oppose darkness and injustice on other battlefields. It will also mean for some worlds what it means for Zazdub World: advanced peacetime technology becoming available to relatively low-tech societies. This trend SHOULD be all for the good-- but it MIGHT go wrong in several ways. My own Earth-variant is well behind Urth, Seedubb or Non-Communist Anime Earth in science and industry, though geniuses like Stony Stork and Bryce Donner have done wonders upgrading us."


Golden Rakshasa, still recuperating from the hurts inflicted by hostile blaster fire which would have evaporated ordinary humans, was a native of Earth-Whichever, thus understood what Preston was relating. "King Truthside," she told the others present, "is obviously conversant with our Earth-variant playing technological catch-up. Earth-variants having superheroes, if they still have major Communist dictatorships at all, normally have compelled those regimes to moderate their domestic poilicies. But on the Earth of which King Truthside and I are natives, our Communist China waged a war of aggression against my India, and against Nepal, AFTER being saved from Trippenwonk. Even when beaten in that war of their making, the treacherous regime in our world's Beijing still persisted in political abuses, finally provoking their own greatest kung-fu fighters to defect to America."

She looked at Preston, who took it as a cue to resume his own speech.

"That is indeed a complication for the Rakshasa's and my Earth-variant. Because of that situation, I will need to exploit my convenient super-mobility. I must be on our Earth for much of the time; but I will also need to be here, and on Awkwardlisp, and short visits to planets of the Republic of Lots of Worlds. A commission of native Zazdub, nominated by their own people, will exercise their valid authority to oversee industrial development on their planet; but I'll offer non-binding advice when I'm on-world.

"Kibbladibber here will become part of a similar commission on my own throne-world of Awkwardlisp. When I'm on Earth-Whichever, I'll follow a circuit of peaceful governments, answering any questions they bring up....."
 
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WHICH BRINGS US BACK AROUND TO EARTH-WHICHEVER......

I remind my readers that, in my story-reality, the "War Witches" are NOT on a Wonder Woman strength level as is the case with Darkseid's Furies in canonical D.C. stories. Thus, during the Trippenwonk War on Earth-Whichever, the non-metahuman Doc Slippage was able to outfight a War Witch. Now to proceed.


One former War Witch named Litzelga, with long silvery hair, and fingernails which naturally glowed in the dark, had become one of the earliest former War Witches to marry an Earthly human. Her husband, to whom she had already borne a daughter and was carrying a son, was of all things a veterinarian. On Awkwardlisp, all animals had been either horrible violent monsters, or VICTIMS OF monsters. To her lasting shame, Litzelga had tortured helpless little creatures during her upbringing by Granny Rudeness: all part of deliberately making her an evil creature. After she and others like her had been paroled in the aftermath of Trippenwonk's defeat, they had been told about possible nonviolent careers they could take up. By lucky chance, the Taiwanese-American Dr. Jiang Fung-Yao had come to her attention. Permitted to watch him at work, she had found that he worked on average eleven hours a day.

Fung-Yao had been abandoned without warning by his wife Colette months before Trippenwonk's invasion. She had left him for a man WHO WAS TALL-- just as simple as that. Colette being three inches taller than her husband had canceled the value of her not needing to work due to his good earnings and financial self-discipline.

She had not lived to enjoy the huge settlement she had stolen in divorce court by lying that Fung-Yao had physically abused her. (Of course, after she got the bag, she had boasted that she was twice as strong as he.) During the first Awkwardlispian onslaught against the United States, the former Mrs. Jiang had been crushed by a falling wall during an airborne attack by Pukedemons. She would not have been killed, at least not that day, if her tall, handsome lover had not knocked her down and trampled her in his panicky attempt to get away and save himself. He had outlived her by less than two minutes, attracting the Pukedemons' attention with his terrified screams.

(Now, of course, they had all eternity to blame each other for where they had ended up.)

Weeks after Litzelga was captured, she had learned about the army of heroic dogs who had fought against the aggressors-- against HER side-- in Illinois. When she could obtain permission, the silver-haired beauty-goddess (next to whom Colette would have looked like a toad) had gone to observe something astonishing. A human medical expert was treating the injuries OF ANIMALS: surviving dog-hero casualties, and other animals who had gotten in harm's way. Jiang Fung-Yao had been working twenty-hour shifts, with his minimal sleep time taken BY DAY so others could more easily step in for him.


She had seen him beaming every time one of his patents made it; she had seen him with beasts or birds he couldn't save, weeping while he promised each one of them that they would shortly wake up in The Good Place. When Litzelga began weeping also, she at first had been reflexively afraid that Granny Rudeness would punish her. Then she remembered that Granny was gone, and HIGHLY UNLIKELY ever to see The Good Place.

Dr. Jiang took no notice of the alien that whole time. Only when a lull in his labors occurred, and he slumped on the floor and leaned against the wall, did the warrior venture to murmur the name which had been told to her.


His eyes barely focusing, he said to her: "What kind of animal? Maurice Tennyson's the best with horses."

"All treated or laid to rest for now," Litzelga told him, then forgot any scripted words in her brain. "You restore life! You force death to ask the Creator's permission for a later date! You strive to alleviate pain! And all for creatures who can never repay you! You are like a god!" (Until getting to know Earthlings, she had not believed in any Creator.)

"Feel like a dishrag," the veterinary surgeon mumbled.

'I don't know what a dishrag is, noble being, but it must be a glorious thing."


Litzelga had already fallen desperately in love with this dedicated healer.

It had taken her six days to make him see it her way, which of course entailed satisfying him how TERRIBLY sorry she was for waging war against Earth. But once Fung-Yao had been won over, the nominal courtship required only another four days. There was a wedding attended by some of the local superheroes, who were glad to witness any conversion from evil to good. Two other veterinarians took over Fung-Yao's load, enabling Litzelga to start working on making lots of strong children for her saintly hero.

Bringing the narrative back to present time, the Jiangs had an interesting tour in Japan, where a medical institute studied how his chromosomes had succeeded in joining with her chromosomes to produce fully viable offspring. They didn't do anything to the in utero baby, not wanting to take ANY risk of doing harm. Fung-Yao, still astonished at his good fortune in having this radiant demigoddess loving and revering him and striving always to please him, promised the Japanese researchers that there would eventually be additional children for them to study.


"At least four more!" shouted Litzelga. Now and then, Earthwomen would try telling her that willingly becoming a mother made her a victimized slave. She always replied, "Let me tell you what it's like REALLY being a slave....."

 
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At Earth-Whichever's version of the United Nations, delegates and journalists watched as the podium was taken by the only Earth-Whichever superhero who had been an entertainment superstar before gaining special powers.

"Thank you for coming, everyone. Since show-business figures are quickly forgotten, I'll tell you that my professional name is Whiskey Dallas. I eventually married again, to an Ostralian widower, formerly a bush pilot. When the power of good raised up special defenders to repel the astonishing extraterrestrial invasion, Preston Vincent enjoyed an even greater empowerment than I did. He is now the RULER of the planet which formerly threatened us, and has MADE IT a power for good. This turnaround against evil was brought about with international cooperation; participants included Kuparr Daku the Native Ostralian, the samurai known as Lone Monkey, Nitara Bagram of India, the Exquisite She-Hunk, and even an extraordinary dog known as Tin Rin Rin.

"OTHER WORLDS had a role in our deliverance. An organic space warship, taken under control by a human pilot from another Earth-variant, struck heavy blows against the invaders; and even more astonishingly, extraterrestrials known as Green Flashlights also fought in our defense. Our freedom was the prize of that victory; but the war against evil didn't end, only changed battlefields.

"My now-superhuman husband Preston Vincent, with allies including more Green Flashlights, has lately won another great victory against similar evil. He plans to work even-handedly with leaders on this Earth, to promote still more scientific and infrastructure advancement for our nations.

"I'll understand if any of you fear that our world's growing prosperity may only attract larger threats. But the victory in which my Preston just participated was the defense of an inhabited planet whose knowledge and industry barely equalled our MEDIEVAL era. Its natives lacking modern science DIDN'T exempt it from being invaded. Happily, as will be told in more depth, the victory against evil was equally momentous as the victory which made my Preston a constitutional monarch. Yet even victory demands wisdom. Advantages gained suddenly, can sometimes be squandered and spilled.


"Right now, the Chinese warrior couple Mistress Bao and Master Kam are in the American Midwest, hunting for answers in the matter of an artifact originating in Bangladesh. It may have no connection at all to the brief new interstellar war which my husband helped win; but we need to know if it does.

"This assembly, Stork Enterprises, the Thumpercolts, and other bodies, are already receiving plenty of information about Planet Zazdub, which was the center of the latest events. It's a fluid situation, but Planet Awkwardlisp-- FORMERLY a menace to humanity-- is now a major galactic power which OPPOSES aggressors and oppressors, and will do what it can to safeguard less powerful worlds against interstellar dictatorships.


"This adventure is barely getting started; but you do not face it alone."

************


HAVING CLEANED UP SOME LOOSE ENDS, NOW I WANT TO CREATE SOME NEW ONES, BY PICKING UP MY "HALO" TAKEOFF.
 
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On board the United Civilizations warship Spurting Flame, the newly-installed A/I called Flyboy was updating Greco Dillard's remaining spacers about events which had befallen while these crewmembers had been hibernating.

"Josette Yamakobo's division of Spearmint-class frigates has the Introductories on Mororlessa playing defense; but she also brought the revelation of a new major cosmic menace-- just in case you girls and boys imagined you would receive earned vacation time now. It's an alien group FAR LESS reasonable than the Introductories."

Captain Dillard asked, though knowing Flyboy would have uploaded information to the ship: "So are the Introductories caught between us and those anonymous others?"


As a bit of his personality program, Flyboy tilted his fighter-jock leather helmet further back on his head. "In a three-cornered war, ANY of the three sides might feel trapped between the others. But whichever side is weakest is logically the one MOST LIKELY to feel trapped. And if the Introductories have been fighting someone else AT THE SAME TIME as we're barely surviving against them, the Introductories are certainly not the weakest faction. But let me call in Whistlebell. And yes, her designator IS derived from the old expression 'bells and whistles'."

A female hologram appeared next to Flyboy. She was cute rather than gorgeous. Her virtual female anatomy was covered in bib overalls, above which were a perky face and red hair only just long enough not to appear mannish. Her synthesized voice was friendly enough, but she picked up from Flyboy's last words, wasting no time on pleasantries.

"All relevant intel extracted from Introductory comms traffic suggests that they are conducting warship movements unrelated to our war. Capital ships of theirs are moving to and from sectors which humans and human-friendly aliens have never explored. Don't ask how I know this. Combatant craft which could easily have swatted all our forces on or near Mororlessa, were never directed to what was a major action site for us. What's more, some of those ships may not have returned home before additional same-class ships were deployed outward in the same direction. The Galactic Navy top brass conjectures that the Introductories have a much bigger fight on their hands than against us."

Greco Dillard now asked, "Is there any recommendation regarding an attempt to communicate with the enemies of our enemies?"

"The consensus, among civilian leaders as well as the brass, is AGAINST any such attempt. Criminal gangs may fight other criminal gangs. Those unknown others may be just as willing to murder us as our current adversary is; and the very fact that we've been able to collect ANY evidence of activity so far off, must be concealed from the Ductors,"

"Then what action on our part IS worth doing?"

"Simple and logical enough. We dig in on any world we can take away from the Introductories; and fortify all United Civilizations colony worlds which are closer to Introductory space than Earth is." Whistlebell nodded at Flyboy, then vanished just like that.

The male hologram told the human captain: "You don't even know yet that it exists, but a new Nayy battleship is enroute here. It's called October Fencepost, and will have a better chance fighting alone against Introductory warships than any human ship up to now has had. Fencepost will stand guard over Mororlessa until comparable defense is in place. Afterward, the battleship will be redeployed to another vulnerable world."

In keeping with need-to-know rules, Flyboy did not tell Spurting Flame's captain that October Fencepost would become protection for Planet Stretch, a world used for both military and civilian purposes. Some of the first-generation Crackshots had received combat training there.
 
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Captain Yamakobo and her personnel spread word by all possible means to the Introductory forces who still were stubbornly-- well, suicidally-- holding out in half a dozen separated regions of the human world Mororlessa. At last, the highest-ranking Introductory officer left alive, a female Bonkalub administrator named Sibrapdaliff, agreed to meet human representatives if given safe conduct.

It was actually reassuring to the slimy supervisor to learn that Stone Wolf and Aristocrat Six offered to carry out the meeting. After this much time, all surviving Introductories on Mororlessa had gotten their arms, wings or tentacles around the fact that Wolf and Aristocrat often spared enemy lives when doing so did no harm to innocent persons. The two "hole card" proto-Crackshots had received authorization to bring up the subject of the speculated "third force" in the galaxy.

Fifteen armed civilians-- six of whom had served in the planetary militia, before it was taken over by Backstabbicus Maximus-- accompanied Wolf and Aristocrat to the parley. Sibrapdaliff knew herself to be in no position to dicker, and knew that the "hole cards" were known for integrity; so she came alone, unarmed, and without any recognizable means to signal other Introductories.


The Bonkalub, fluent in four human languages, opened the discussion.

"Ever since we became aware of the existence of humans, we have routinely assumed you to be pathetically inferior to us. Not merely because our society and industry are older than yours, but because none of our achievements were based on the ancient works of the Preliminaries. You probably see the flaw in our logic. It is of course TO YOUR CREDIT that you could be as advanced as you are, WITHOUT the prior advantage of access to Preliminary science; but we all simply wanted to feel superior."

Aristocrat Six nodded. "And it is to your own credit that you can step outside of your presuppositions. I am authorized to inform you that we know your civilization has ANOTHER set of enemies....."

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

Except for a few who committed suicide, all remaining Introductories on Mororlessa, or on board anything adrift in the star system, jumped at the offer of amnesty. As a plotline convenience, all who did away with themselves were the very ones who might be tortured to death for their crimes if taken alive. When the October Fencepost pulled in-system, she carried a team of counter-espionage officers who would efficiently debrief the defectors.

In this fashion, the United Civilizations learned about the existence of the Splash-- my parody of the Flood in the Halo game.

In light of their gallant and skillful actions on Mororlessa, the two "hole cards" were invited to choose their next assignments. Having nothing to prove by immediate new combat missions, Stone Wolf relinquished his alien tuning fork to the intel experts, then began a two-year stint as an instructor for new special-forces troops on Heyho Earth. Aristocrat Six continued sniping with orbital-drop teams.

Stone Wolf was destined very soon to be an instructor to a five-year-old second-generation Crackshot, named, you got it in one, Johnny-747.
 
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Since my version of Cortana doesn't exist yet EVEN as a story feature, we'll shift focus to astronauts and starship builders.

When October Fencepost was no longer needed around Mororlessa, she took a roundabout hyperspace cruise-- helped by intel from Sibrapdaliff and other surrendered hostiles-- looking for clues about the activities and extent of the Splash. In the brain trust for the mission, besides the A/I's Flyboy and Whistlebell, was an ambitious researcher named Carolyn Fallacy. She had not invented the prototype Crackshots, but had been part of their program; and she WOULD BE the "inventor" of the Master Champ.

Right now, Dr. Fallacy's attention was on the much bigger-scale matter of the Splash. Every day, she told Captain Penelope Shao and Executive Officer Jabez Locksley the current state of her speculations. Then the day came when there was more to discuss than speculation.

Flyboy manifested in the C.O.'s day cabin, to announce: "The bridge watch reports a ship of unfamiliar design, drifting without guidance or motive power. If this craft is a victim of the biological threat we were told about, NOBODY from this ship had better board it. But expendable scout drones can be directed to the derelict, and Whistlebell and I can ride them in virtually without becoming a disease vector." Nodding her head, the Captain then made sure that Dr. Fallacy was in the loop.

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

The ghost ship's crew appeared to have been bipedal Skankbellies. All of them, however, were distorted-- like a vandalized painting-- with shapeless growths all over them. Whistlebell observed that all vital organs in the corpses were gone, and muscle tissue mostly missing. Carolyn Fallacy, watching what the A/I's were sending, speculated:


"From what our informants on Mororlessa told us, these Splash-creatures should be able to navigate a ship after assimilating the brains of the crew. But the violence preceding the full takeover could have been so chaotic as to leave controls inoperable, and the reactor depleted. Thus, anticlimactically, the parasitic monsters died of starvation."

Commander Locksley shuddered. "Captain, I recommend we dispatch a hyper-capable shuttle to Stretch with all the information, and continue our search. This, after we nuke the plague ship into quarks."


"That, absolutely-- provided that Carolyn gets everything she needs."

"Thank you, Captain," said Dr. Fallacy. "I'm regarded by some as reckless. But I'm not suicidal. If, on top of this windfall, we can only gain clues to whether they're advancing OUR way, that's enough to report from this expedition, and that much HAS TO reach our authorities."

Since we're not going to let something annihilate the whole human civilization based on Halo, I promise that my version of "the Flood" WILL NOT be allowed to munch everybody. Eventually, we'll get to where Earthpeople face my version of "the Covenant."
 
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Now for Planet Freesoil, and its "inner world."

Working from the surface, focusing on what he had learned was the approximate location of Rugdamont Island, Earl Pufferton succeeded in detecting King Trampelfar and Queen Frazetta as they slept. Injecting pure thought into their sleeping brains, he made them both dream they saw him in front of them.


"Brave king and queen, I am as human as you are, but I come from a world _outside_ of Bazookadar." (The Human Federation officer didn't bother trying to explain the _galaxy_ to them.) "I am communicating with you as the Wingdingers would, except that >I< don't wish to harm or control you. My people are _enemies_ to all creatures like the Wingdingers; and some have experienced living in bondage. At least some of us are fully able to block any attempt by Wingdingers to command us, and it would please us to break their hold on _everyone_ of your kind. If this can be done, then my people and yours can teach one another about our different worlds.

"Among what I call 'my' people are ones whose form differs from you even more than the Wingdingers differ. One of them resembles the large insects in Bazookadar, but is harmless to humans. He is called Tiptikditpip; when you see him, he will have a bright green object attached to the base of one of his antennae. He will also be able to communicate with you, and you can pose questions to him. Tiptikditpip will not show himself to any of your people until you've had a chance to tell your people what's coming."


* * * * * * * * * * *

"May I touch your green jewel?" said Larpkumo, the oldest man on Rugdamont.


"So you may," replied the ant-shaped superhero. In underground places cut off from the light, this will shine so I can see." Neither Tiptikditpip nor Earl had yet attempted to explain to Bazookadarians that the outside world _wasn't_ bathed in unending sunlight.

"What else does it do?"


"If an arrow, or something else dangerous, flies toward me through the air, my Flashlight can stop it from hitting me. In such a case, my green light can become solid, like a bludgeon, and knock down the archer who shot at me. And a _very_ helpful ability is this." Tiptikditpip levitated straight up, till he hovered his own body length above the ground-cover plant life.

Queen Frazetta's eyebrows went up. "So can you fly in all directions?" In response, the exoskeletoned Green Flashlight cruised around in figure-eights for half a minute; levitated a stack of agricultural and architectural tools; flew here and there _with_ the tools; then placed the tools and himself back where they had been.


King Trampelfar drew near. "In the outer world, do you and Earl Pufferton face enemies like mine?"

"Similar enough. And there are so many-- islands-- out there, that there are numerous _kinds_ of enemies."


Not many more questions and replies had been exchanged, when Earl sent a private thought to him: "Alert-- the pterodactyl things have unfortunaterly gotten smarter. They built large kites, to which one Wingdinger could be leashed. It would lighten the load, so each Wingdinger's wing endurance was increased, enough that they _can_ reach Rugdamont. Fourteen of them are within ten minutes of you and King Trampelfar. You need to cancel their mission."

Since the island king already knew of Earl's existence, Tiptikditpip could simply tell Trampelfar: "Brave King, Earl Pufferton tells me that your foes have devised a way to fly farther! I need to prevent them from reporting success to their own king!"

His green aura suddenly enclosing him, the ant-like hero shot into the sky. The advancing Wingdingers never had a chance, but Tiptikditpip adhered to the code of the Flashlight Corps. Stunning all of them with a simulated hammer of green light, he kept them in the air. Bringing the reptiles _with_ their kites to Rugdamont.


"Trampelfar, the Wingdingers already know _where_ you dwell, right? So their scouts getting here doesn't reveal anything of importance to the monsters. And if you merely slice the wing membranes of our captives, perhaps you can make _them_ do some useful work."
 
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* * * * * * * * * * *

Reinforcements for Tiptikditpip and company were forthcoming. Assembling at the shaft entrance, new sentries from the colony took up the top-end watch. John Cardsharper, strong enough to hang his own weight off a rock on two fingers and a thumb, was the first into the shaft, followed by his Fuss-powered wife Lylah, whose telekinetic talent would eliminate any risk of her falling onto him. Versaderma Redvest, assuming the shape of a mountain-climbing creature she had seen on Planet Latterdawn, followed Lylah; above her, the master mechanic of Latterdawn hovered by the power of his Flashlight, bringing up the rear, or maybe bringing _down_ the rear.

Earl Pufferton had such great psychic range that he could have done his part from Freesoil's _south_ pole. Where he _was_ now, was with several pioneer families: Human, Tryyurluck and Greedork. He asked them, children included, to think about the strangest things they could think of to think about. Some settlers complied by remembering their near destruction by Creepycrawlids; others remembered when Block Atom had visited Freesoil; several remembered being part of, or hearing the news of, the expedition to help liberate the Cosmic Federation; and some randomly thought about routine tasks of the colony.

Earl relayed this tossed salad of memories in the general direction of the Bazookadarian Wingdingers from whose community Trampelfar had escaped. He was so busy re-broadcasting mental output, that he _couldn't_ simultaneously pick up how the Wingdingers were taking his broadcast. But he ventured to hope that he was in any case _preventing_ the monsters from noticing the new party descending.

* * * * * * * * * *

After the gravity reversal, the Cardsharpers and the Redvests emerged onto the planet's concave inner surface. Four minutes later, Bazookadar proved that it was worthy to be considered a pastiche of Edgar Rice Burroughs.

Six hippo-sized beasts, shaped like skunks (no stink-spray) with piggish heads, charged at the explorers. Bill used his Flashlight energy to create a giant shovel, which picked up the skunk-pigs and dumped them onto their backs. Versaderma assured John, "It's all right, Mister Cardsharper, I know you could have handled any one of them."

Flying toward Rugdamont went easily. Stopping two days' march from the sea which contained Trampelfar's island, they established communication with Tiptikdidpip, who interviewed Rugdamonters about possible collaboration with the newcomers. Humans of Bazookadar found it hard to dismiss their desire to kill every Wingdinger by slow torture, but a few of them would _consider_ less vengeance if they had guarantees that no aggression from the Wingdinger side would go unpunished.

So the hollow-planet plot-arc went into hover mode, giving Copperfox time to consider where this thread would eventually proceed. ---
 
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MEANWHILE, PUNKSTEEMA HAS A LABOR-MANAGEMENT CONFLICT IN PROGRESS .

Working-class Reslagorians had responded enthusiastically to the offer by the Towermen, Smoke Maidens and Mellow Druids to mediate labor grievances. Billyboy Jeralo, the werebeast brother of detective Zoralee Jeralo, had facilitated this business through a visit to the Pinebranch Gorge Academy for Young Men. Headmaster Vardilac Bocarden, whose institution taught practical subjects, enjoyed widespread prestige in all classes of Reslagorian society, and with educators in the neighboring countries. Billyboy was no longer in the forefront of labor-management negotiations, but stories he could relate remained intriguing for all his hearers.

As we rejoin Billyboy, we find him talking to more than seventy family members of Reslagorian labor and commerce leaders.

"People in Upper Wenzeppu had died from poisoned wine. Someone clearly wanted their people to blame the wine merchants in Lower Wenzeppu. SOME merchants turned out to be guilty, just not the wine merchants. We ultimately exposed LIQUOR merchants as trying to discredit the entire wine industry.

"This adventure, this SERIES of adventures, demonstrates that where evil troubles the world, many players may be in the game. The Bloody Diggers who supported the criminals had no interest in whether humans drank wine, whiskey or cactus juice; but they would have been delighted to exterminate the revived Order of Towermen. Similarly, it may be that not all evils in your own country have only one cause. My wife, my sister, and others now concerned with your worries, realize this, and they hesitate to assume that just one evildoer is pulling all the strings."

: : : : : : : : : : : :

Sure enough, one villain who WASN'T solely to blame for all troubles in Reslagor, was delivering a speech of his own to another audience of Reslagorians. These differed from Billyboy's audience, in that Ulyano Skeetrott had sought out the LEAST intelligent laborers he could find. They didn't have to be sober, either. On the waterfront of Lenpith, Reslagor's westernmost seaport, Ulyano stood on a shipping crate and spoke.


"Thank you, brothers and sisters, for your bravery in coming to join me. Let us keep our eyes open in case the hired thugs of the robber barons come looking to silence us." Ulyano knew that he and his hearers were in no danger; he had carefully kept out of the acts of theft or vandalism being committed by angry workers to the north and east. He was working on theory; let bolder souls put the theory into practice.

"The robber barons are so cynically smug in their immunity, that they actually CALL one of the largest business cartels an 'evil business corporation.' They just ASSUME that they will never have to answer for stealing from the people's collective."

Nobody in attendance, least of all Mister Skeetrott, realized that the fiend Jaheg-Jorod had URGED the now-deceased Armando Casador to assign this name to his enterprise. The necromancer had PLANNED the whole time to encourage common people to think that this was cockiness on the part of the wealthy.

: : : : : : : : : : : :

Jaheg-Jorod reckoned that his redistributionist movement could continue now on its own momentum. So he paid one last visit to Yarbeck and Selma Trask (Selma being the widow of Armando Casador). No, not to kill them; leaving them alive did no harm to his plans.


"Mortal friends, you are able now to continue without me. Keep doing as you have been doing. I have other fish to fry. I might reappear someday if I need to correct some part of your plans. If I don't return, you may assume that I approve of every step you take."
 
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I guess I should bring THE STAR of my Stephen King-inspired storyline back onstage, shouldn't I? Let me list characters who I'm pretty sure were with him. If I overlook some, just assume they're present also.

Zoralee Jeralo, grimly determined to be Mrs. Of-Goliad, is along, though her brother Billyboy is operating independently. Zoralee has taken on the duty of protecting her sister-in-law, Judy Lightheart-Jeralo. Howard Shard is along, though his wife Jillian is elsewhere training young women. K'Zogar the huntsman is along, and I should clarify something about his primary weapon. Five-barreled shotguns existed centuries ago on Actual Earth, but they fired all barrels at once. K'Zogar's gun is far more sophisticated, ROTATING barrels to fire in succession.

Apprentice Talusek Fernwood is along. He carries a side-by-side long-barreled black-powder pistol, but prefers when possible to fight with his saber. He is married to Feshri of Gahurr, the younger of the two "Javelin Sisters." His Felrudean cousin?/sister?/aunt? Didima Grath is along; if she didn't have a rifle before, she now has a bolt-action stripper-clip rifle. Her last name is Grath because she got married to the once-widowed Tablanorian huntsman Lester Grath. Didima came to love Lester because, when Felruda waged war against Tablanor, Lester had saved her brother's life on the battlefield AFTER beating him in hand-to-hand combat. Lester's similar gun has a butt-plate of silver, making it an effective melee weapon against magical monsters.

Okay, I looked up the elderly female Mellow Druid named Wildroot Seedoil, who has known Zoralee for many years. She is able, and intends, to cast good magic which will make the lady detective fifteen years younger with respect to her ability to bear children. Wildroot rides a mule, whose "name" is a series of whistled notes.

By the way, Ronald's current mount is also a mule, named Stonyhoof.

The party entered Reslagor through the region where the Shards lived until recently. Everyone thereabouts remembered Howard and Jillian with respect. Their path led them to the location of a modest vein of coal. "This," Howard informed his companions, "is a voluntary cooperative, jointly operated by five families for three generations."

"Which is probably the very best remedy for what's brewing in Reslagor," said Lester.

A gentleman called Breck Pickering, one of the rotating leaders of the mining combine, heartily welcomed the visitors. "What a fresh breeze this is! The honorable gunfighters, AND the Mellow Druids, all here together! When you issued your joint offer of mediation, it was like being able to breathe again."


"Do other working people feel as you do?" asked Zoralee.

"Everyone at Vardilac Bocarden's Pinebranch Gorge Academy felt that way when your magical brother visited them."

Mr. Pickering led the newcomers half a day's march south, to a well-managed inn which catered to skilled artisans and prosperous farming families. More than a dozen of Pickering's friends and associates were waiting to speak with the visitors. This being a friendly audience, Ronald said, "We are honored that you are all willing to consult with us. Because a degree of haste is warranted, I propose that my own party split up, so half of us can move onward to any place YOU recommend, where we can carry this non-violent campaign forward."


Pickering nodded. "Makes sense. Since those of us here are already inclined in your favor, I recommend that Mr. Shard go with the half leaving here, lending moral authority to your efforts at--" He identified a similar place farther west.

Howard, Zoralee, Billyboy (if I said he rejoined them, but even if not, he could rendezvous with them at the new location), and K'Zogar went west with Ronald. The others remained with Mr. Pickering.
 
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In the provincial seat of Malgriff Thanedom, Thane Jared was talking with his son Lawrence, with the clergyman Tolstoy Blake, and with Malgriff's most respected architect, Desmond Wickham. Note that Pastor Blake had long since passed to his Thane the account of Jaheg-Jorod telling him that he, Jaheg-Jorod, was powerless to kill a saint magically.

Right now, Desmond had the floor. "My lord, we covered the last of Mister Shard's items."

"The north staircase?"

"Yes, my lord. It was the EXACT spots he said: one riser on the lowest flight, three on the top flight, and five hairline fissures in the bannister. None of these flaws is a danger to life and limb, but they attest to Mister Shard's thoroughness."

"And," said Lawrence, "it attests to the reason why so many Malgriff workers are eager to be part of the Captains of Skilled Labor."

Vicar Blake added, "Especially when it doesn't require them to disown their allegiance to you." The minister was not merely flattering his host. The House of Malgriff had become strong in the first place by enshrining the rule of law, holding the wealthy just as accountable to the law as peasants were held.

: : : : : : : : : : :

Up till now, my story has not ventured to describe countries existing between the northern edge of Bamulica and this planet's arctic zone. Now it's time to mention Reepokistan, whose people were ethnically close to the formidable Sledge Nomads.


Located at the same longitude as Hukshem, the Reepoks had embraced the Christian faith back before gunpowder was invented in Arcondoyla. They referred to the Lord Yeshua/Jesus as Meshvaa, but they meant the actual Incarnation of Actual God, and understood that He had performed His act of atonement on a different planet. Because Mellow Druids (unlike Frantic Druids) recognized the Actual God, they had historically been mentors and helpers to the Reepoks. Having no fanatical hostility against science as long as modern industry made a reasonable effort not to wreck the environment, Mellow Druids had helped the Reepoks to devise ways to limit negative effects from using coal. Magically able to survive bitter cold, the druids DID NOT hypocritically expect non-magical people to accept freezing to death in the name of environmental purity.

At the present story-time, an experienced Mellow Druid named Barkfist Snowdiver was a semi-permanent advisor to King Jentrum of Reepokistan. As we join them, we find Barkfist answering a request to meet with the King. It was about a telegram; yes, the Mellow Druids were okay with telegraphy.

"Master Snowdiver, I know that you know about the Towermen and Smoke Maidens. But have you ever heard of people called 'Captains of Skilled Labor,' operating south of here?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, I heard about them from a sister druid, Wildroot Seedoil. She is convinced that they are purely a good thing."

"Do you think it would be a good move to invite these 'Captains' to set up shop here?"

"I believe so, sire. Howard Shard, the man who started this fraternal order, is as mellow as any Mellow Druid. He is comfortable enough in his own skin that he is not at all unsettled by his wife, the mother of his children, being a gunslinger. His earnings in the building and farming trades have paid for all her weapons and ammunition."

"Very well, Master Snowdiver. Let us make some overtures to them."
 
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(Note to self: when I finish the current Punksteema chapter, I must get back to Groan Starr and his brother Stillneater Ashtrayides. They're due to meet an especially wicked agent of Hopecrusher Central, named Lizzy Headless. She won't be literally headless, but her head can float around freely without harm to her body, provided it doesn't stray too far.)

In the royal palace of Mifdola, at about the equivalent of two a.m., Queen Sotavalit's head was pillowed on the not-overly-impressive chest of her magic-using husband Felipe Catalano. It had never even crossed Sotavalit's mind to think less of her prince-consort for his relatively- weak body. No musclebound athlete she ever met could hope to do what Felipe did routinely: uncovering secrets, answering riddles, exposing treachery, proving innocent people's innocence, and identifying the best course of action to take in any crisis.

Felipe's good-magic talent was what now caused him to wake up in his genuinely-loving wife's arms.

Although time zones had never been formalized on Punksteema, all educated people understood the principle. And Sotavalit knew enough geography to know that the lands of Hukshem and Bamulica were close enough in longitude, that it could also still be night there. So as soon as Felipe responded to her tender kiss, she got to business.

"Darling, has T'Pinnok Zur communicated with you?"


"Yes, my dearest majesty, he did."

The Queen had offered her guess because she remembered that Mister Zur was a truth-finder like Felipe, but Mister Zur could initiate any divination or psychic dialogue from his end ONLY if he was asleep at the time. She next asked: "Was it about Sir Ronald and his lot?"


"At least related to them. All indications T'Pinnok has gathered, now move him to believe that the necromancer who caused the plague of ghouls in Tablanor had been stirring the pot of social unrest in Reslagor, is shifting his tent. With Towermen, Smoke Maidens, Mellow Druids, and at least one powerful Christian clergyman all engaged in facilitating peaceful remedies, the necromancer seems to have decided he's outgunned on that ground. If so, he'll probably leave Reslagor to lesser villains to vandalize, while he seeks easier targets."

"Shall we try to bring Rizlaya Tohir in on this?" --referring to the good witch who was William Seldunin's chief advisor.

Felipe nodded. "At least for consultation. And if possible, also contact that 'Path-Finder' lady who assisted the Towermen previous to their activity in Gahurr."

Felipe and Sotavalit were not yet aware of Jaheg-Jorod's new meddling in Samplibam, but they soon would be. So don't be startled if, at my next visit to Punksteema, I assume that more guidance was obtained, and a party of available heroes was formed and will end up supporting Jonawiku in Samplibam.
 
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We now pick up the Dune-based sub-reality after the evil robots, and a few miscellaneous monsters, were thwarted. We find Andy and Quarkie Blender, with Tutti Howizzit the female Mentalcat, on the former capital world of the downfallen Snarkonnens, meeting a convenient new supporting character. This was Professor Ergosum Syllog, a prestigious Mentalcat and instructor of Mentalcats. He ran his College of Cogitation on a planet called Differintegral. He was old enough that he needed The Jalapeno to stay physically functional. No one expected him to do any swashbuckling; somebody did need to keep civilian society going.

In the years of story-time since Groan Starr was told by Master Yoga-Rug who his true parents were, the elderly Differintegralite had perused every draft which Duke Stillneater had written for a constitution. Ergosum and his parents had never known any other social structure than an interstellar feudal empire, but Mentalcats WERE supposed to be open-minded. And any genius who had spent his life surrounded by fellow humans would be eager to meet nonhumans.

The Mentalcat educator had hit the jackpot by visiting Planet Greedy Crime: a VERY non-biped alien. The starfish-like Green Flashlight Zuha-Zuzob was here to observe design work on Andy Blender's new superdreadnought.

Professor Syllog had gotten to the icy-blooded superheroine first, and already knew just what question he most wanted to ask her. "Lady Zuzob, you know by now that our civilization had the fate to grow and spread inside a volume of space where humans were the only sapients. Yet we have micro-evolved to comprise highly diverse subtypes. Now I finally can ask a NON-human envoy: does one large single-species reproductive pool include as many contrasting temperaments and personalities as multiple genetically dissimilar species?"

Zuha's audible speaking voice, which her Flashlight prosthesis made possible, replied: "Do you see faint lights rippling across my epidermis? They are not produced by my lamp-like artifact, they are natural to my species. But they are directly analogous to your vocal effect called laughter. I've collaborated for years with humans and similar beings in the Flashlight Corps. As far as I can discern without actual telepathy, my inner emotions toward humorous words or events GREATLY RESEMBLE your own feelings. This applies across the board. Beings of my race, as with a vast majority of races, are either male or female; we dislike pain, we fear being helpless in the face of danger, we love other individuals, we hate unfairness, and we rejoice in achievement.

"None of this is determined by whether we have a rigid endoskeleton, or whether we breathe oxygen. So your kind and mine can understand each other more easily than some on either side would presuppose."

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

Elsewhere on Greedy Crime, visitors from Seedubb Earth-- the first explicit Earth-variant that Prince Groan Starr Ashtrayides had ever visited-- were touring a fabrication plant. The factory was currently dedicated to manufacturing interior parts for Admiral Blender's new flagship. The visitors were technicians from Spark Laboratories, headed by Cyberdork and Bot Index.

Fluralida the young Penny Jezebel was present, and appeared a bit nervous around Bot Index.

"Miss Fluralida, will it help if I tell you that my personality is derived from a beloved grandmother of Princess Vixen Ashtrayides? Every living creature has to start somewhere; then our choices and our trials build us up from there. Did you hear from anyone about my having been on board the Mega- Mothership that served the tyrant Bob Snooze?"

Fluralida did not at first reply; then she shook herself. "I beg your pardon, Mistress Robot. I was just now using my Jalapeno mind-power to-- to LOOK FOR a personality inside you. Forgive me, yes, you do have one."

Lights on Bot's shiny exterior blinked. "No offense taken. I know that the same evil-robot horde whose latest onslaught your empire just weathered, attempted to exterminate all humans in your sub-reality back before House Calamari took power. But I'm a very different sort. And I've been waiting to speak to Greedy Crime shipyard workers about a special feature which Vixen and I learned was on the Mega-Mothership."

"You mean the retroactive past-event scanner? We do know about that one."

More blinking from Bot Index's lighting diodes. "No, I mean the closed-circuit internal teleporting system. When the Spacebullion planet-killer was in operation, that back-and-forth blinker shortened the time lag for personnel to go from place to place inside that REALLY HUGE starship. This had its benefits, but your engineers probably don't believe that the energy expenditure is justified, for such a small boost in personnel efficiency."

Fluralida nodded. "Though I'm not a shipbuilder, this would also be my judgment."

"Understandable. But Cyberdork and I believe we can obtain for you a quantity of miguffinite, a plotline-advancing mineral which would not take up much cubage, and could power an inside teleporting system by itself without taxing your new ship's engines."
 
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The Srirachian desert chieftain Sleevecard still was running things for House Ashtrayides on the source-world of The Jalapeno. He was the first high official on Srirachiss to debrief an inoming assortment of extra-imperial heroes who had shared in the sacrifices of the interstellar defense against evil robots. Over two dozen of these heroes hailed from "Terra," including Father Vasili Rutintutin, leader of a sacred band resembling the gunslinger-knights I depict on Punksteema. Vasili, aging like Sean Connery, also brought along an athletic woman who looked far younger than he-- but who doubtless had benefited by consuming plenty of The Jalapeno. Pristaka was a Hotblood Matron: a warped offshoot of the Penny Jezebels. Vasili Rutintutin and his non-celibate Orthodox monks, despite a lack of Dune-franchise advantages, had always proven very difficult to slay.

Over the last two years of story-time in my serial, even before coming up against Vasili's sacred band, quite a few Hotblood Matrons had gotten the air let out of their tires by male heroes. The Russian warrior-saints following Vasili had slaying vampires on their resumes. Among Terrans accompanying the monks was the Marvel Comics-derived hero Backy "Winter Trooper" Shedd. Also on the team with them was "a big frog in a small pond": Deuce Wayans, who under the hero-name of Street Bat was the Batman-variant (with no Robin-variant) of his minor Earth-variant.

Sleevecard spoke at greater length to Deuce than to the rest. "I owe you respect, as I owe it to your comrades, for helping to defeat evil in my sub-universe. But you are exceedingly remarkable, precisely because you SHOULDN'T BE so remarkable. You neither enjoy any such advantage as The Jalapeno provides to us, nor possess bionic augmentation like Mister Shedd, nor are yourself innately magical, nor have been specially anointed by God as Father Vasili and his brother-band were. So how is it that your combat prowess can still stand alongside those of the others?"

Deuce Wayans shrugged. "I've known persons who enjoy one or more of those privileges, AND who use all their talents in the most honorable manner. But their performance would never have been so impressive if they had not BROUGHT THEIR OWN HUMAN WILL to the mission. The will-- the heart, if you prefer that word-- can achieve plenty without superpowers; but superpowers can't achieve much without an honorable heart."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

NOW I NEED TO LOOK UP what I most recently did with Giles Magg, He's the Goulash clone of Duke Neato the Pure-Hearted and Generally Likeable. Giles was grown by servants of the Calamari Emperor. This was intended by them to exert influence over Lady Jazzica and her grandson Stillneater, the way "Mentat Duncan Idaho" in the canonical Dune series was created to manipulate Paul Atreides. But although Giles wasn't quite a true return of Duke Neato, he replicated Neato's love for Jazzica correctly enough that he DIDN'T try to influence her for his own advantage.

This had worked in Giles' favor with "his" children Trala-Lalia and Groan Starr.-- and by extension, with Stillneater and Gladiola. Giles had spent many hours with Stillneater, telling his quasi-grandson things like this:

"The human-enhancement philosophy which built our Galactic Empire provides a ready-made lesson in the separation of powers. The Naughtygators, the Penny Jezebels, the Lazytaxies, the Mentalcats, the Srirachians who control the only naturally-occurring source of The Jalapeno-- and of course the Noble Houses, which are more generalized but are separated by territory-- all have their advantages and their limitations. If any one of the Noble Houses took absolute control over the others, or if any of the specialized factions became able to checkmate all the others, the people in general would be worse off by it."

After the latest session, Giles got hold of the lobster-like Green Flashlight Chubkripdak. "Are you free to give me a ride to Greedy Crime?"

"I can manage. I do have one current passenger, one of the Chimpanzians, an ape-girl named Likkoreesha. She's engaged to Yubadosh, one of Chief Lefturklyde's warriors." Lefturklyde and his followers were Orangutanoids from Planet Anoxia, who had previously defended Chimpanzia from invasion; and Orangutanoids were as capable of mating with Chimpanzians as Humans with Dahudorans.

During their warp-speed flight inside Chubkripdak's survival sphere, Likkoreesha addressed Giles:

"I know by now what it means that you are a Goulash clone. You carry the virtues of Neato Ashtrayides the Pure-Hearted and Generally Likeable. Accordingly, though never married in your own person, you can recount how your template conducted himself with Lady Jazzica. She, for her part, would never have used her unfair advantage of The Chatter to control him to his detriment....."

To his pleasant surprise, Giles took satisfaction from describing the life which his gene-source had led. If I'm like him, I really can be a magnificent husband, if the narrative gives me the chance.

Upon landing in Healthyopolis (which used to be called Filthopolis), Chubkripdak and his passengers found a friendly kaiju awaiting them.

"Well met!" thundered Equivvalentor, the Dragon of Reasonableness. "I've come to inspect the reclamation work here. Giles Magg, I have my own place of power on the home planet of Queen She-Wow, but I can visit other worlds. Some planets without native sapients could stand a bit of taming, in hopes of eventually creating low-impact human settlements.

"When cosmic evil caused your template's firstborn son to wage galactic war, dozens of populated worlds suffered ecological damage on top of human death tolls. I have in mind to offer survivors on the worst-afflicted planets a free magical ride to the available planets-- once the destination planets have been surveyed to mark off untouchable native-wildlife preserves. Chubkripdak here has already agreed to get the Janitors of the Universe in on the program. But it's YOU, Giles, who can confer a special moral aura upon the project.

"If a certain virtuous gentleman with Quickness Force powers were to sign on and conduct the boundary-setting ops in a hurry, his contribution to quality of life would make him a hero to millions."

"Master Dragon, that sounds wonderful. But even with your magic, the power of the Flashlight Corps, and my own Jalapeno longevity letting me spend years on the survey work, how many lives can we REALLY improve this way?"

"Plenty. Sorcery Lass from Alwaysurnia will pitch in. And although even we can't shift ENTIRE planetary populations, the new settlements will be robust enough to send food and consumer goods back to their parent societies. All the more so if some reclaimed Starhatches can be positioned to render shipping costs even lower than using the Spaced-Out Guild. But I'm trying to bring this back around to YOU, Giles."

"Oh. All right. I believe you left off with my being a hero to millions?"

"Exactly. It is already widely known in your sub-reality that you are the best job the Lazytaxies ever did....."

Giles released a sigh-- then winced at himself, because he DID remember dying as Duke Neato. "Best job? Even though, unlike Bunkem Isotope, I'm NOT quite really my template?"

"Yes, Giles. Whatever the Goulash-makers desired to achieve, what they DID achieve was a purification. You possess all of Neato's moral virtues, with his VERY FEW shortcomings purged away. You embody everything that was best about House Ashtrayides; and it will be seen. When multitudes witness you making amends for what Paul Muddy-Drip was cornered into doing, you will become one of the MOST LOVED men in all of derivative parody fiction!"

Abruptly, Sorcery Lass of Castle Greyhair was with them.

"What they're getting at, you naive, noble-hearted boy, is that you will have thousands of women buying lottery tickets to get a chance to fight over you! And-- if necessary-- several magically- and psychically-talented overseers will weed out anyone who isn't sincere."

Equivvalentor concluded: "Accept your doom, Giles. In the name of all good men who deserved to get the girl but never did, accept that you eventually WILL be loved with endless devotion by some woman who is herself worthy enough...... to enable you to MOVE ON from Lady Jazzica."

So if Giles Magg is not seen again on these pages, the readers are instructed to believe that AT LEAST ONE really really deserving man ACTUALLY WILL attain the happiness he deserves-- no matter how much the actual Frank Herbert would HATE IT.
 
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In a sort of convicts' dormitory on a prison planet in the second galaxy, a tall, dark-haired true-human woman, attractive but looking exhausted, was busy scrubbing toilets. The job was made more strenuous by a type of mold native to Razztazzem Six, which flourished in toilets.

The gloomy woman scouring these toilets was Vernacula Scurvylaff, the former Stellar Coordinator of the Cosmic Federation. She had risen to her post by assassinating her predecessor. She had _lost_ her authority when she fell into the hands of a former policeman whom she had persecuted for his honesty. Lodge Flake, famed as the leader of "Flake's Seven," had ended up turning into a high-grade superhero, in part because of exposure to the fantasy substance miguffinite. Also involved in bringing down Vernacula's tyranny had been the semi-reformed super-villain Block Atom, not to be confused with the fully good-aligned Black Admiral.

A prison staff worker, a male of the blobby Shmeehobber species, wobbled up to the convict janitor.

"Hey, queen of the universe, a delegation of groveling peasants is here to worship you! Just kidding, they're not here for _you_ at all. Do you remember a Navy spacer, Fisnardu Jebjolic the Dahudoran? --No, you wouldn't, he was an enlisted man under Captain Kactusita. But now he's a lieutenant, commanding the frigate Spinnercomet, which has just now brought a notable Ziblamot couple."

Vernacula sighed, lowering her eyes. "Vildaromp, right? And what's-her-name."

"Yes, and his wife Beelrist. Perhaps you recollect how much of the Federation's technological base depends on Planet Blamtet. These two have come to obtain a quantity of miguffinite. They definitely won't ingest any of it. They want it to compare against particulate samples from The Wasteful Nebula. _Pirates_ in that region may be benefiting by miguffinite in the local space-dust."


The Shmeehobber was referring to a sector of space in the opposite direction than Planet New Laziness.

The convict's eyebrows popped up. "What, do _they_ expect to acquire superpowers like Lodge Flake?"


"No, intel says they hope to improve their _ships,_ boosting their overall performance within the nebula. Which reminds me: the warden says that if you're a good girl, he'll provide you with a few milligrams of miguffinite, to improve your performance at scrubbing toilets."

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
To remind my readers: Dahudorans are biologically _very_ close to Earth-humans. They look like Earthly Polynesians, except for a peculiarity in pigmentation. Every female Dahudoran has light spotting on her skin from the waist down, so that if their legs are uncovered they seem to be wearing patterned hosiery. Their men have similar spotting, only _above_ the waist. And in order not to make their faces grotesque, they _don't_ have spots on their faces.

Dahudoran women, by the way, had been among the first generation of Heart Sapphire Sisters.


Here we meet the Dahudoran frigate commander, Fisnardu Jebjolic, who was acquainted with the above-mentioned Vildaromp. Landing his frigate near the main prison compound, he left it in the care of his crew, and accompanied the prominent Ziblamot couple to meet the warden of Razztazzem Six. I can't remember if I ever chose a name for the warden. So just understand that they all discussed collecting miguffinite on Razztazzem Six for the above-mentioned purpose.

When Lieutenant Jebjolic's crew notified him that the near-immortal Block Atom had announced his coming, no one was frightened. Ever since Batfellow had cunningly arranged a reprogramming of Block Atom's brain to prohibit
unprovoked violence, Block and his consort Princess Serrimu had gradually become accustomed to decency. They had in fact supported the liberation from Vernacula Scurvylaff, pulling off non-lethal actions which had weakened the forces of oppression. When Serrimu's Penny Jezebel talent made her aware of the reformed Federation's new authorities wanting to suppress the Wasteful Nebula pirates, Block agreed with her suggestion to lend a hand.


Arriving with Serrimu on Razztazzem Six, Block told those awaiting him: "Since your own Captain Rightawrong is busy combating major evils in _our_ native galaxy, it's only fair if we help out against these pirates blocking your commerce route."

"We gratefully accept your offer," said Braskorim. "I need to advise you, however, that _another_ plotline-advancing mineral exists in the Wasteful Nebula: eternalite, which potentially can kill you."

,
Block sighed. "I've been gradually learning to enjoy goodness. We'll discuss measures to protect me against eternalite weapons, but I'm not going to turn chicken. Men a lot more vulnerable than myself have found the courage to face death in the cause of defending the weak."

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
As a reservist himself, Vildaromp took the piracy situation seriously enough to reactivate himself. Rounding up a crew of much younger Ziblamots, he joined them on board a ship of similar type as the Spinnercomet. This one bore an animal name, that of the most impressive herd animal native to Blamtet. We shall Anglicize this name for convenience, referring to Vildaromp's ship as Furry Antelope.

To approach the nebula, Spinnercomet took the left wing, with Furry Antelope one-tenth of a light-year to the right. Block Atom, provided with body armor and a subspace-radio earbug receiver, cruised between them. Serrimu rode along on board Spinnercomet, her mind scouting for signs of bad guys.

The next post will introduce current bad guys.

 
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The extended family of Lodge "Rightawrong" Flake had made an honorable mark in the storyverse many years before he, Vildaromp or Lieutenant Jebjolic were born. Lodge's Great-Aunt Velda (phonetic resemblance to "Vildaromp" is pure coincidence; it happens in real life as well) had been a physician's assistant on the Cosmic Federation starship Extrovert, when it made first contact with Planet Windaro. Unfortunately for the Windarans, Extrovert's company, captain and chief medical officer included, consisted primarily of loosely-humanoid Arpkevorkians. Their planetary culture enshrined the same view of science which C.S. Lewis condemned in The Abolition of Man. That is, Arpkevorkians tended to exalt an abstract ideal of "evolutionary progress" at the expense of living individuals.

_Fortunately_ for the Windarans, Velda Flake had been resistant to groupthink. The Arpkevorkian Doctor Flunky, documenting an apparent evolutionary shift among the Windarans, had automatically assumed that the mutations needed to be encouraged. Velda, by contrast, had felt powerful misgivings. Accordingly, she had ministered to natives who _also_ felt uneasy about the "evolutionary leap."

The consequences had soon become obvious: _every_ Windaran making "the change" had become infertile. Only persons who successfully _resisted_ the transformation remained able to produce offspring. If Doctor Flunky had gotten everything his way, the Windaran race would have gone extinct unless cloning could save it. After the truth became undeniable, planetary leadership on Windaro had praised Velda Flake to the skies, and categorically proclaimed that Arpkevorkians were _not_ welcome on Windaro anymore.

No, Arpkevorkians were not uniformly villains just _because_ they were Arpkevorkians. But the prevailing customs and mindset among them had made them prone to adore dogmatic, hard-nosed authority, with or without justice. Let's say that eighty percent of them were either lawful neutral or lawful evil. As a result, for the entire span of time when evildoers ruled the Cosmic Federation, Millions of Arpkevorkians had eagerly served the oppressors in many capacities.

The pirate fellowship lately established in The Wasteful Nebula included many hundreds of Arpkevorkians, and one Arpkevorkian held a place on their innermost planning council. Frenzyfey, a daughter of Doctor Flunky, wanted to bring back "the good old days," when her father had been allowed to play God with an entire sapient race. She and her colleagues were not so optimistic as to imagine they could reverse the liberation so recently achieved by Lodge Flake and other heroes within existing Federation territory; nor did they see much future in trying to annex star systems within King Highfyver's sphere of influence. But they hoped to build a commonwealth more to their liking in the opposite direction.

The gang's raiding so far had been very minimal in violence, as piracy went; Frenzyfey and her comrades preferred not to fill superheroes with a furious desire to kill them in retribution. By playing a long game, they hoped to become a _respected_ power within their own lifetimes.


For their part, the good guys would be just as glad to curtail piracy without using retaliatory massacres. But they didn't intend to let their own shipping, or markets outside the Federation, to be routinely plundered _even_ if plundered "in moderation."

The participation of Block Atom confirmed the intentions of the lawful-good forces. Block, after all, wouldn't be _able_ to slaughter helpless defeated pirates even if he wanted to.
 
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>>>> Okay, time to press forward with dismantling the Empire of Evil Badness.

Reminding the readers that the Republic of Lots of Worlds is friendly with the Bubblewrap Coalition: Trablo Kuldivan of the human-like Braykpedduli race was called upon to transport Viceroy Thuglyfe Skrawn to the Republic's capital to stand trial. Ten fighter craft similar to what original-franchise Obi-Wan had flown in "Attack of the Clones" escorted the armed freighter Constance Tilbury (named for an Earthlyforce destroyer captain who had died heroically in action). On board the Tilbury were two Fuss-gifted green-skinned Toofah-Roffians: Gross-Goo the friend of Dim Jargon, and Bestbaya, great-great-niece of Master Yoga-Rug. If Skrawn tried using his new down-side abilities to influence Trablo and his crew, either Gross-Goo or Bestbaya would swat him down. Master Drool of Mintcandybarr, keeper of the Great Artifact, maintained surveillance in case any hostiles approached the prisoner-transport convoy.

As a crowning touch, four diverse Green Flashlights, assigned by the high-ranking Flashlight Indabog, served as outriders, far out from the convoy. The Up-Side Council, also enjoying contact with the no-longer-evil Planet Spacebull, received specifications for the Fuss-blocking prison cell which had confined Dark Headgear before he turned good. The new edition would, of course, be housing Thuglyfe Skrawn.

On the capital world, the tusk-faced Master Plow Korn welcomed the new arrivals. Particularly addressing Bestbaya: "Is there a current report on the Space Amoeba and Duke Terror?"

"Both fled. We wouldn't quite say they're intimidated, but they both seem to reckon that other sectors are healthier for them. The Windchimes and the Kanolis will be arriving here in a couple of days. Now, do you know a mercenary named Blastodon Kroof?"

Plow Korn gave a nod. "Yes, a friend of Lackdough Caribbiyan. He's worked on and off with Imperials, but never joined in any atrocities. Lately supporting our side. Currently helping to keep our prisoners of war in line."
 
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One of the highest-ranking Imperial officers remaining at liberty was a man of Thuglyfe Skrawn's blue-pigmented race. Commodore Vigralt Hesko led the equivalent of Star Wars TIE fighters, a large, well-maintained wing with its own repair ship. Their numbers had been enlarged by surviving stragglers from two other wings which had been defeated by Republic ships. The good guys in those actions had been reinforced by Bubblewrap Coalition vessels.

Commodore Hesko had chosen his rally point precisely for NOT being a military installation. It was a gas-mining platform, like in "Empire Strikes Back." Its workers were unarmed civilians, but were Imperial sympathizers. They possessed good ship-repair facilities, which were placed at Hesko's disposal. The commodore was conferring with his top subordinates when a gas-mine supervisor told him there was a subspace televideo call. This was transferred to a screen in the conference room Hesko was using. A pale-skinned humanoid with long black hair spoke:


"I am Quark Lord Maltibalkrix, Remarkably Impressive Sovereign over chaotic-evil forces of nastiness. Your intelligence network will be aware of our former activities on Planet Powurkord. You and I could both benefit by future cooperation."

Vigralt Hesko was a cool customer. "I've heard of your tribe. You can make large-scale warp-jumps from world to world; but at least in the normal course of things, what you can't do is maneuver in atmosphere or in orbit. Which is exactly what my lot can provide."


"Right to the point, I like that. If you're not overly frightened of the Spacer Swimmers, we can work together to start a new regime someplace. As long as we both keep a low profile, there's time for us to agree on what star systems we think we can capture together."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Heart Sapphires, like Green Flashlights, were capable of individual faster-than-light space travel. We now rejoin the yellow-skinned Sapphire Sister Joza-Varu-Paf, one of the trio who had led their disastrous interference on Jersey Earth. Many Sapphires had been awakened to the folly of their claiming they could supplant a world's own infrastructure only after their disruption of agriculture, manufacturing and transport had begun to generate famine. Joza, the one with a much longer neck than most humanoids, had been led all the way to side-of-good by a human superhero who could EXTEND his neck. Nabirye Jared was a native of Uganda, as that nation was on Anime Earth; and I repeat that some African cultures are like Asian peoples in putting the family name first.


Jared possessed physical strength at least equal to twenty men; and when his neck was extended, he enjoyed special sensory powers. By the time they met on Powurkord, Joza had already adjusted her attitude. They had worked together at probing the crimes then being facilitated by the now-deceased mystic Drigum Namdre. And somewhere in there, it had become evident that they could get their heads on one exact level for very efficient kissing, with each one's neck affording space for both of the other one's arms to encircle.

As of present story-time, Joza-Varu-Paf was carrying Jared's baby. Her Sapphire talents enabled her to know it was a boy, and to maintain him in good health. She could even discern that Rodney, as they were calling him, would inherit his father's powers. Happily, Joza's own power would prevent her son from accidentally harming her when he moved inside her.

Where Jared, Joza and Rodney were flying was to Kantpoo, in order to visit the widow and children of Acne-Skin Spacewalker. Jared was already known to Kantpoolians, thanks to an incident at an athletic field when Jared and the Banjolorian Dim Jargon had easily outrun some boastful female Kantpoolian athletes. Getting directions to the Spacewalker family's residence, they called ahead and were acknowledged by Poormee Armadillo-Spacewalker.

"Dana and Duke are due back from an astronomy retreat tomorrow. I suggest we spend the interim with you telling me more about how things went on Powurkord. Those Quark-people never intruded on Republic space that I know of."

"Joza's a better orator," said Jared. "There's plenty for her to relate. In turn, we'll want to know more about Queen-Emeritus Harshyanna, and the outside influence she was involved with."

I remind my readers that Poormee's treasonous mother Harshyanna had gotten together with Doctor Dizwarn of the Lazytaxies. He being a blatant evildoer who had served the Snarkonnens, and she being a cowardly traitor, they were still someplace being evil. Along the way, they had worked with the demon Kuth-Hula-Hoop, and with the Popquizzitor Trillyun Subaru. They're not onstage at present; I don't think I killed them off; so leave them on the side for now.
 
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The domestic robot Zoom-22, who had accompanied Poormee's children to the educational retreat, was qualified to drive hovercars. Driving Duke and Dana home, Zoom passed to the twins the fact that the Nabiryes (who were not unknown to the Spacewalkers) were visiting the villa. Poormee added that Fahufri, the same women's athletic coach who had antagonized Jared and Dim Jargon, was coming to visit with Dana specifically.

Fahufri's visit was already planned before the Nabiryes were known to be coming. When she beheld the off-worlders, the abrasive coach felt free to throw a tantrum-- because Tien-Hai Jargon WASN'T present to hold her accountable.

"YOU TWO [naughty language]!!! How dare you intrude upon Poormee's maternal business! Are you planning to sway Duke's mind? To persuade him to DENY his sister's clear superiority?"

"Which superiority is that?" asked Dana. "My brother is better than I am at levitating objects, at lightsaber combat, and at piloting aircraft. I am better than he with guns, at sensing other people's general thoughts, and at making them do things-- though Duke can reject my mind control if he puts his will to it. We're like apples and oranges."

Fahufri exclaimed, "Dana! Don't let the patriarchy enslave you!"


Looking puzzled, the girl twin faced Poormee. "Mother, do I look enslaved to you?".

Poormee glowered at Fahufri while replying to her daughter. "Of course you're not enslaved, sweetie. Neither was I-- unless it was by your grandmother. Your father always respected me, and Master Mopey-One, I mean to say Only-One, was purely supportive to him in this."

Fahufri only scowled more fiercely. "But did Mopey-One, or Moose Windchime, or Plow Korn, or Yoga-Rug, ever invite you TO ISSUE ORDERS to them for operations against the down-siders?"

Poormee's face took on a "Say what?" expression, before she replied, "No, but neither did Melodica Windchime, nor Nonsmoka Tiptoe. Where are you going with this?"

"Where I'm going is to the rescue! You need rescuing from toxic oppression by fragile male egos! The worst oppression is when you don't know how oppressed you are!"


Poormee clenched her teeth. "Which part of 'Acne-Skin always respected me' did you not understand?"

Fahufri rolled her eyes. "You're so far gone, you're using LINEAR LOGIC!!!"


Dana now surprised everyone. "Miss Fahufri, will you listen TO A GIRL? My father was not, Master Kanoli is not, and my brother is not, any kind of patriarchal oppressor. I don't think you have any more business at our house!"

The man-hating coach waved her arms in the air, as if invoking some pagan deity. "Headless Lizzie, Headless Lizzie, Headless Lizzie, we need you now! Come and enlighten these who deny that THE HEART is the only true guide!"

A moment later, everyone heard a female voice from the sky. Whoever this was, was singing to the tune of a Bonnie Tyler song from Original Earth. Poormee and the rest could make out some of the words:

I want all the good men gone: just goddesses, no gods!

Men are good for nothing but the dirty, boring jobs!
I, not any man, will ride upon a fiery steed;
My self-love and self-esteem is everything I need.


I hate the heroes! I won't respect you if your chromosomes are X and Y.

In a movie or show, I'll make sure that you know: men will blunder and fail till they die......
 
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Whatever the reason for her name, Lizzie possessed a head, though rather on the ugly side. Her features appeared capable only of expressing smugness or peevish anger.

"Let's ground her," Dana urged her brother. With Dana reinforcing him, Duke telekinetically pulled the seeming woman down onto the lawn. Black Giraffe had extended his neck even before Lizzie was yanked out of the air. Joza could see concern on her husband's dark face over whatever he was detecting. Jared said to his hostess, "Do Kantpoolians use remotely beamed power for machines? Because my energy-analysis power tells me that this creature is being powered by a remote source."

"We do," replied the mother of the twins, "and maybe she is. I never saw her before. Zoom?"

Zoom-22 moved closer to Lizzie, who was now being held belly-down on the lawn by Black Giraffe's iron strength. Presently: "Mistress, there IS an unusual energy-form being directed upon her, apparently out of a hyperspace portal which I cannot localize."

Poormee, well aware that she had all the backup she needed, drew close to the pseudo-human intruder. "Who are you really?"

"I am a protector and champion for enslaved women like you, and an ally and helper to wise women like Fahufri. I enjoy knowledge of more worlds than you ever heard of; and I know that on ALL of them, women or the equivalents of women are constantly, relentlessly oppressed by narcissistic males who just want indentured servants to boss around."

"Oh? Really?" Poormee sat down. "I'm sure you have BEEN ON more planets than I have, but hundreds of people I know have collectively explored thousands of worlds, with existential ties to scores of conceptual sub-realities. Let me enlighten you by naming some of the 'enslaved' women, human or near-human, that I know about.

"Princess Vixen and Captain Wilma Dearthing of Directvideo. Chief Scientist Jean Yuss of Planet Spacebull. Melodica Windchime, Krayzee Fireflaw and Lylah Doxxum, sometime space pirates. Jazzica Ashtrayides, Trala-Lalia Isotope of the Spoon, and Lady Gladiola Ashtrayides on Srirachiss. Harpy Nickelworth, Huntergirl, Saltina Dwayne, Queen Maritima, Princess Reelnyce, Marysuefire, Fertility Stoke, Raisin, Degreaser, all on Seedubb. Wholesome Vine, Carly Shedd, Sky Lioness, Maureen Hawk's-Cry leading the Brickhawks, Denise McFogg, Sherri Subpoena, the super-villainess Lady Blast, and Crosswind the elemental, these on Terra. Lizzy Florist of the Starship Grunts. On Urth: Stellar Sapphire, Aluminum Banshee, Brazilian Flame, Superhottie, Hand-Eye, Rattle-Sneak, La Bruja Resbalosa, and Red-Hot Lamia. On Earth-Whichever: She-Hunk, Woman Torch, Irina Beriya, Golden Rakshasa, Mistress Bao, and numerous demi-human women who came there from Awkwardlisp. On Mediumgard Earth and the nearby planetoid: Lady Sniff, Princess Shurthingy, Crimson Witch, Bright Window and Hornette. On Punksteema: Zoralee Jeralo, Rizlaya Tohir, Jillian Shard, Didima Fernwood, Queen Sotavalit of Mifdola, Heejee faf-Tujan, and the Javelin Sisters. On planets derived from Filmation programs: She-Wow, Sorcery Lass, Teerifica, Ickylinn, Tunafishla, Subsoila, Winkyblue, Interrupta. On Jersey Earth: Sharon Rockwell, plus multiple Heart Sapphires like Joza-Varu-Paf here. In the Bubblewrap Coalition: Brita Alkaselzer, Elizabeth Broccoli, Raquel Delgado, Noherra Synthmusica, and Deelyte Loxbagel of the Dusky Circle. Over in another galaxy, Royurbota Flake, Vernacula Scurvylaff, and Luvardra Magta. Shall I keep on listing poor helpless women crushed under glass ceilings?"

During Poormee's monologue, Jared had relaxed his grasp on Headless Lizzie. This left her free, when Poormee posed her snide question, to sit up, tilt her head back, and exclaim: "REEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" An instant later-- her head EXPLODED. All onlookers gaped in astonishment as the now-literally-headless Lizzie stood up-- and flew away.

The smoke from the cranial explosion seemed to fly AFTER the misandrist fiend. Fahufri began crying.


"I suspect that this has happened before," muttered Joza. "We might eventually see that weird character again, with her head restored, just as ugly, and just as dishonest."
 
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