Spacebullies Two: The Search For More Parody

SPECIAL BULLETIN FOR ALL SPACEBULLIES TWO READERS !!!!

Page 100 is the place to enact a giant leap for fan-kind, because it'll be easy to remember later on where the announcement is.

If you have read the preceding four or five pages, you may have noticed me TRIMMING DOWN the sheer number of plot arcs which have been running side by side. Some definite RESOLUTIONS have occurred. For instance, Captain Patriot has finally found true love with Marcie Graze; the Thumpercolts have completed their first genuine mission; Tyrone Glass Nielsen has been permanently stripped of his powers; my version of DC's disgusting supposedly-cool villain Lobo has gotten what he deserved; and, thanks to the glorious victory of Sir Ronald the Towerman, the set-aside world of Punksteema will enter a new era, becoming more like an actual steampunk novel.

This does not mean that I'm killing off big bunches of characters, only that many of them can be assumed to be still okay, just off stage.

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More needs to be said about why I ever even >started< this project. It began as a parody >of< a parody. "Spaceballs," of course, affectionately spoofs the Star Wars premise; but I set right out to spoof Mel Brooks >and< George Lucas together. My very very start caricatures parent and child, as it were. My "Groan Starr," "Dark Headgear" and "Puke" directly correspond to Lone Starr, Dark Helmet and Barf; but I also brought in my versions of >canonical< Star Wars characters, including the young Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano, Admiral Thrawn, the Mandalorian, and a Queen Padme who in my version >isn't< doomed to tragedy.

For I long ago got heartily sick of pessimistic downbeat endings; and this is the reason for what was my >next< packet of parody. I had learned that Frank Herbert was >so< twisted, it wasn't enough for him that Paul Muad'Dib must die as a miserable failure; Herbert couldn't sleep at night without pretending that it was a >good< idea for Paul's son to become a monster and make >all< of humanity miserable for centuries, just because.

At the same time as I was writing the above tropes, the "C.W." channel was making a helpless punching bag out of The Flash. Enter Copperfox, to set up an alternate Earth ("Seedubb")where superheroes >didn't< exist to be walked on. This, in turn, meant examining the concept of parallel worlds. It is breathtakingly stupid to say that entire separate space-time realities must pop into existence with every choice people make. Like, if I order pizza instead of chicken, suddenly a whole extra Earth exists in which the United States is ruled by Pakistan.

Instead of embracing Owlman's cosmology, I decided that a limited number of alternate Earths can exist in the >same< universe, so characters enjoying interstellar capability can >physically< travel between them.

During the past half-decade, I have juggled more than two hundred characters, many of them completely original while many others were blatant caricatures. Versions of Alia from Dune stories, Aquaman, Batman, Blade the Vampire Slayer, Captain America, Catwoman, Cyborg, Daredevil, Doc Savage, He-Man with his sister She-Ra, Master Chief in Halo games, and many more inhabited my worlds.

By now, as I've said, some heroes have done their due diligence, and have a right to live happily ever after. Before the week is out, I expect to provide a sort of spread sheet, narrowing my "storyverse," like from six hundred characters down to only sixty or seventy characters. I'll spell out what characters are central to each narrative arc.

Warning: even with downsizing, there'll still be many worlds.
 
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Primary and secondary characters in fiction, be they good or evil, may be divided into those who have agendas of their own (good or evil), those who assist SOMEBODY ELSE in achieving an agenda, and third parties who are affected by main-character actions. Like Commissioner Gordon supporting the efforts of Batman, or Skeletor in He-Man cartoons being assisted by his grotesque followers. One method of streamlining narration is to lighten the baggage load: a hero or villain could have one or two sidekicks instead of ten or twelve. That's one way to reduce the number of times when my readers need to page back or do "Search Forums" to refresh just who liked or hated whom, and who went where for what reason. ​



Next, a different angle upon the process of making up stories:

Back in primitive times, when tales were told in leather tents and around campfires, the storytellers described real or imagined people, and a story would portray what these people did. The point being the characters, the viewpoint of the narration would MOVE WITH a character, describing what he or she encountered in any place he or she went.

Of course, the action of a particular story might stay in one location, e.g. The Iliad, in which case, all on-scene characters would be, well, on the scene. But when Homer moved on to compose The Odyssey, it was natural for the viewpoint to move along with Odysseus and his crew. Once reaching the Island of the Cyclops, he DIDN'T let the survivors move along westward and wait for some other Bronze Age macho-man to pay a visit to the same location. Homer was bent on staying with Odysseus all the way to Ithaca, so we could see HIM regaining his rightful place.

THE "SPACEBULLIES" EPIC introduces the character of Groan Starr, indisputably the central figure, who starts out rather like King Odysseus, having a particular place to travel to: a place where he can belong. Where Mel Brooks parodied Master Yoda as Master Yogurt, I parody Master Yogurt as Master Yoga-Rug. Since Mel Brooks never decided WHAT Lone Starr was a prince OF, this gave me a free hand with GROAN Starr, so I said he was born a prince of "House Ashtrayides," on my version of Planet Arrakis, a.k.a. Dune. This allowed me to denounce the infuriating nihilism in Frank Herbert's Dune books. Instead of letting Duke Leto's hopes come to nothing, I said that Duke NEATO, having an extra son in Groan Starr, decided to let THIS offspring grow up somewhere else, thus bypassing the rotten-luck burden carried by the Ashtrayides line. Groan Starr's reappearance helps every decent person he meets to reject the hopelessness relished by Mister Herbert.

Groaner's nephew Stillneater, the son of "Paul Muddy-Drip," REFUSES to change into the monster Herbert imagined; instead, he ends up creating a LIMITED monarchy, in which the affiliated planets have a say in how things are governed. Likewise, my version of Alia Atreides DOES NOT become a cruel sociopath.

Once things look better in the Dune-derived "sub-reality," Groan Starr and his bride Princess Vixen are free to make the saga's first visit to a direct parallel version of our Earth-- called "Seedubb," as I have mentioned previously. At this point, the story still IS Groaner's journey; but Seedubb has multiple comic-bookish characters, any of whom could lead a new plot arc. Seedubb is home to close imitations of The Flash, Captain America, Spiderman, Blue Beetle, Starfire, Batman, Aquaman, a reformed Catwoman, a reformed Harley Quinn, Doctor Strange, and Cyborg. Any one of those heroes could reasonably head up a diverging series.

The dominance of personal arc over setting began sinking after I, Copperfox, viewed the D.C. animated feature where villains join forces with the Justice League to foil an invasion by Darkseid. There was a moment when the wicked Star Sapphire gets knocked unconscious in mid-flight; but good guy Shining Knight makes the save on his winged horse, breaking her fall. This looked like the basis for a REALLY satisfying redemption scenario: villainess is so grateful for being rescued by an adversary that she not only repents of her sins, she falls in love with the hero. However.... by the time I watched that cartoon movie, action in the Seedubb setting had blazed its own trail, including a visit back to the Dune scenario. There just wasn't any basis for having Groaner and Vixen jump over to the Earth-variant (I named it "Urth") which had versions of Shining Knight and Star Sapphire.

So I cut the cable. Imagined events on "Urth" proceeded, not at all depending on the Star-Wars-plus-Dune material which had been THE storyline up to then. It was to be some time before anybody native to Seedubb directly met anybody native to Urth.

Extra planet after extra planet, not all of them being direct Earth-variants; fields of action spreading into TWO ADDITIONAL GALAXIES.... these made it absolutely impossible anymore to say, "This particular character is THE center of the theme." (Creating the isolated world called Punksteema was like retaining an isolated specimen apart from a complicated research project; and you will be aware that I said even Punksteema by itself has just received some load-lightening.)

It was just too much. Accordingly, I have reduced the scope. Right now, as for imagined locations, I'm down to "only" 20 or 25 settings which still need to be depicted in pseudo-real-time. And as for characters to be consistently tracked, maybe 17 or 18 for me to keep juggling. Lots of semi-retired heroes, villains or neutrals can still have cameo appearances; but these returns will have to bear CONNECTIONS WITH what a full-time hero or villain is doing.

SPOILER: The next actual story-post I write will concern Deuce Wayans, my Batman-variant codenamed Street Bat. By the time that plot arc properly resumes, you will have been given further clarification of how I'm improving my character- driven storytelling focus.
 
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A Rough Heirarchy of Semi-Permanent Characters, with Respective Territories:

FIRST ON THIS LIST, AS FIRST IN THE WHOLE SERIAL, IS GROAN STARR. As my recent posts have depicted, he has been drained of powers which were specific to "The Fuss," but in their place he has acquired powers based on "The Jalapeno," the kind of powers used by Penny Jezebels. Groaner can reasonably appear in settings connected to Dune >OR< to Star Wars \ Spaceballs, but Dune takes his priority.

||||||||||||||| SEVERAL CHARACTERS with roots in Spaceballs OR in canonical Star Wars could cross paths with each other: Yoga-Rug himself, Only-One Kanoli with his wife Massage Breathless-Kanoli; the insufferably boastful Bray Galpowerteen, and The Banjolorian with young Gross-Goo. Probably also toss in Pree-Pree Jodd, a girl of the long-eared Glugfin race (yes, like Jar-Jar), who has acquired Fuss powers thanks to an ancient artifact found on Powurkord, a planet which has been visited by "Babylon Five"-based characters.

Master Champ and Cortexa, now a married couple since she became a very-humanlike android, will have a hand in most events for the "HALO"- based sub-reality, joined by the bardic heroes Major Chief and New Stevie Ray Vaughn. The former singer, as I recall, got to marry former space-station cop Raquel Delgado. The latter has won the heart of mad scientist Carolyn Fallacy by saving her sanity. Zafnast, a formerly-evil "Skankbelly" alien, will be around as well.

V^V^V^V^V On what I call "Bat-Earth," >one< hero suffices as a center for most narrative purposes: Deuce Wayans, who >was< the Batman- variant until recently. Along the way, thanks as I recall to the alien Fojadosh Ludping, Deuce >also< got to be a Green Lantern-equivalent. While keeping that part secret, he recently >revealed< that he was Street Bat, saying someone else would inherit this role. Bat-Earth has very little contact with any aliens, but is being alarmed by an earth elemental. Major Dai Kung-Ya of national police in a moderate Red China is helping Deuce to investigate the creature.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ PUNKSTEEMA will be more complicated because, although it's a single planet with NO access to other worlds, it also possesses far less transportation infrastructure than a typical world in the Spacebullies epic. Less than half of the planet's population uses firearms, less than a third has electricity or steam engines, less than one fourth has telegraph lines, and less than one fifth has telephones. Therefore, any Punksteeman hero traveling by land or sea, encounters as much variety in cultures as my characters elsewhere encounter through interstellar voyages. It follows that I have cause to list QUITE A FEW Punksteeman characters as "primaries." Reserving the right to add two or three more, and remembering that Ronald of Goliad is in retirement, I nominate the following, not yet sure which ones will get the most onstage time: Towerman-Druid Jonawiku and his wife Azellajo \ Towerman Wyatt Hickok \ Howard Shard, founder of the "Labor Captains," with wife Jillian who is a Smoke Maiden \ Other "Captains": Jarsken Bowdrie and Hostiguth Yorof \ Rizlaya Tohir, a good witch who can communicate over great distance \ Lady Zutozar, matriarch of the Tengu \ Jerkysalt of Sneeziya, direct copycat of Henry Cavill's Witcher character \ Typhus Gloom, parody of the main character in the Gormenghast Trilogy, with sister Frootsalda \ General Cornell Brendan, version of Colonel Christopher Brandon in "Sense and Sensibility," jilted by Daisy-Anne Marshwood \ Climbs-To-Moon and Best Rope Maker, braves of the Washadoli tribe \ Peplijad the Gnome, friend of Jerkysalt \ Bruce Mackey, railway construction overseer \ Huntsman Roy Crinkly

|||||||||||||||||| Characters native to, or active in, the Third Galaxy: Thorpe Thunder-Master, Bakerstray Bill, Doc Slippage & wife Zoorama, the Deteriorating Earth couple Stradivarian (bearer of the Hagensaber) & Gasfilla, Tether Zappem & Sapphire Sister Shibwazushu, Walloper Woman & her bestie Grrrryyll, Black Stingray (good-aligned version of Black Manta), Green Flashlight Jamsorvad, Speedy Greyhoundus /////////////// Based in Second Galaxy: Lodge "Rightawrong" Flake, King Highfyver of New Laziness, Barndora & Wispy Mythical, Parbellik & Luvardra Magta (Flashlight married to Heart Sapphire); cyborg Chutnykorn

FINALLY, some of my "Round round, get-around" characters, a huge plotline convenience, who can easily transport themselves and-or other people across galactic distances to keep the storyline from bogging down: Katmatao of the Janitors of the Universe, Sorcery Lass, King Truthside, Swimmer Pluto, and Equivvalentor.

 
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OH...KAY, AT....LAST, we can return to Bat-Earth, resuming story-action.
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Since we last looked, a new singer scheduled sessions at the Midwestern recording studio lately used by feminist artist Maxie Viva. Smiley Virus was the daughter of Western singer Billy Roy Virus, who was also a skilled horseman. While inheriting his vocal talent, Smiley had repudiated her father's Christian faith years ago. If this had not been so, Maxie, along with Washday Anagram, Sybil Dampning and Ladora Greely, would have wanted no part of her. As it was, all four leftist mavens had showered Smiley with embraces upon their first meeting.

Smiley's undisguised personality was displayed in a live telecast produced for her by Maxie and Sybil, and funded by the government- approved Be The Change Foundation. The Oneness Pioneers supplied volunteer stagehands. After thirteen songs in the same preening spirit as the songs of Mummydonna (with a speech ridiculing her father inserted at mid-setlist), Smiley called a pause.

"To all my fans who are worthy of me-- and to any crude male viewers, who I hope are starting to perceive our goddesshood-- I offer this real-time consummation of the female energy of wammuns who keep the universe bubbling. I shall now grant you the privilege of watching as I marry myself." A much-pierced girl from the crew came to Smiley and gave her a sort of bridal veil, only it was rainbow-colored. What other Earth-variants would have called New Age music played softly as the super-diva recited her vows:

"Goddesses and Maggots! We are gathered in the sight of Mother Everything, to witness the union of me and I: a sacred bond which matters infinitely more than obnoxious distractions like making babies. Triumphant over the systemic misogyny of an XY-chromosome organism who wanted to oppress me, I spring forth in my inexpressible glory, because The Force Is Female!!!!" (Smiley had no chance of knowing how these words came to her tongue. Bat-Earth had no ties either with Disney-Lucasfilm on Original Earth, nor with Star Wars-connected parody- characters existing in The Never-Stopping Story. But onlooking Hopecrushers gloated over the air-headed girl flattering herself as a genius and hero. The lampooning of love and family proceeded.

"Do I, Smiley Virus, take Smiley Virus as my lawful self? Of course I do; who else but me understands me? Will I love, honor and obey myself? Naturally I will, who else could ever deserve my respect? Then by the power invested in me, by me, I pronounce myself wife-of-self, which no fascist caveman can put asunder! I may now kiss myself."

To perform this, she could have taken the easy way, just kissing the back of one of her hands. But Smiley was more creative, and the camera girls knew to zoom in so that viewers could understand what she was doing. As far as the elasticity of skin permitted, she forced her upper lip sideways to the right, and her lower lip sideways to the left. Then she made her lips move the other way, sliding along each other in what might be called a sawing movement.

"Oh, Smiley dearest, I am the best kisser ever! Kiss me again!"

Copperfox refused to look at any further demonstration of Smiley's self-love; instead, he changed the scene.

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As is the case for Earth-Whichever, Bat-Earth in my story is below average in technology among Earth-variants.

Mobile telephones were still experimental on Bat-Earth, but it was possible for someone above the peasant level to enjoy private access to fax networks. Persons like Eileen Disingenuous, Ladora Greeley, Beatrice Wayans, Washday Anagram and her Uncle Jester habitually chatted in this medium, gloating together about how superior they were to proletarians. Not quite every upper-crust person, however, lived for the fun of lording it over lesser beings.

One of these exceptions, Cassina Dragglehaira, was a friend of Symphony Britt and Lindy Soper. Cassina and Symphony, as pre-teens, had performed together in an equivalent of Original Earth's Mickey Mouse Club; after aging out of this, they had both gained media exposure when the fully-adult Lindy Soper invited them to perform in her shows (for instance, dancing in a non-raunchy way to the song "Fun Just Needs To Have Girls"). The friendship of Symphony and Cassina had never died out, though Symphony had suffered multiple private misfortunes during her thirties. A poorly-chosen marriage had wounded Symphony's mind. My real-world followers are invited to read The Woman In Me, the autobiography of the actual Britney Spears. You are invited to infer that my fictional Symphony suffered wrongs like those which Britney really suffered. And if you know me, you know that Symphony Britt will find compensation in the love of a good guy.

Hmmm, let me think. Is there a pure-hearted, brave, clever, talented, athletic, morally upright bachelor in this version of the United States, who has achieved high status in society without being a bootlicker to the ruling party?

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"Hello?" said Lindy Soper into her landline telephone.

"This is Eileen Disingenuous. Have you heard that I won my case?" (Lawsuit against Mummydonna for swinging at the talk hostess in Lindy's presence.) Though unseen by her caller, the sane singer grinned an I-knew-it grin.

"Unprovoked assault, on camera: President Hegel wouldn't be able to get out of paying at least some damages for that! I know she failed to hurt you, so no criminal charges were needed."

"Of course not. All she hurt was her own hand, and that was repaired the same day. But it has given me the idea for a ninety-minute special. I'll call it 'Footlights, Fistfights and Funny Sights.' I want you there to help me retrospect the key incident."

Lindy replied, "Glad to. Can I bring along Cassina and Symphony?"

"Absolutely. The three of you can re-create the running-around-in-loose-long-skirts routine for 'Fun Just Needs To Have Girls'."

"Hmm. About that: remember that in the video, I pretended to overpower the wrestler-actor playing my Daddy. That could be done because I didn't have to sing while twisting his arm. But this reprise will be live on the air, so somebody else will have to pretend-overpower a man representing 'Daddy Dear' while I keep on singing. And we can ask another actually-way-stronger man to play helpless. Like, say, Marshal Deuce Wayans? I bet he'll be a good sport about it; he has nothing to prove."

Miss Disingenuous knew her phone wasn't tapped, but she lowered her voice instinctively. "From everything I know, Mister, Marshal Wayans especially doesn't need to prove himself to Washday Anagram. You probably remember her stage play about 'taming' Street-Bat, before he disclosed who he was. I hear from sources that she wavers every day between insisting she's a warrior queen who never backs down, and in the same breath complaining that she's being oppressed and held back."

"Hooey, Eileen. You and I know that Washday never was on the same grid-square as being oppressed."
 
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"Symphony!" the red-haired singer Chandelle Rune exclaimed, coming forward to shake hands. "I have a residency here until Winter Solstice! I'm celebrating tonight with Alvin Springbuck; we're going to dine and dance at Boot-Scooting Corral, that's the only full-time club in town. He tells me he can pick up line dancing, because he learned something called Morris dancing in England."

Symphony Britt was back in Limon, Colorado, where she had witnessed the moment when Deuce Wayans revealed that he was Street-Bat. The family-friendly Western festival built by the Wayans clan had evolved into a year-round resort (similar to "Country Kingdom" in the state of Missouri on Seedubb Earth). As an added feature, the Cheyenne horsewoman Shirley Digs-Many-Roots had established a riding school as part of the resort, and Ben Wayans had donated two brood mares, each with a promising colt. It just might be that Ben, cough cough, wanted to help his son Bartolomeo look good in Shirley's eyes.

At the time Chandelle and Symphony conversed, what was on the stage was not so loud as to drown their voices. Commandant Yvette Emerson of the Colorado State Police was emceeing a demonstration of diverse martial arts. Fighters explaining their styles included a Mexican bullwhip expert, and visitors from Arizona who exhibited bare-handed Apache combat moves. But the show-stealer was Capoeira master Tomazo Dimas, one of Deuce Wayans' trainers, leaping, spinning and rolling.

What would have stolen the show, if anybody had seen it, was Deuce's arrival on the premises. While ceasing to be Street-Bat, he had retained his Green Flashlight hand-attachment; and with it, he could still perform the stunt he had taught himself years ago. Now, therefore, he had made himself ethereal, passed through the ground as if it were air, and surfaced behind the outermost porta-potties of the outdoor- entertainment grounds. He was dressed in civilian casual, but did have his badge and (in a shoulder holster) non-lethal gun with him.

By a plotline-facilitating coincidence, two friendly pairs of eyes were first to notice him. One of the two young women, Cassina Dragglehaira whispered to Symphony Britt: "Don't worry, I never invade another woman's property; Marshal Wayans is all yours. But maybe he has an unattached friend I can borrow; and any man the original Street-Bat likes, has to be a good guy."

Seconds later, Deuce heard his name being called. Striding toward him was a fake-blonde woman he had seen on television, clad in halter top and gym shorts. He factually knew who she was, consequently knew she was a little bit older than he was; but her tanned skin was healthy, smooth, unblemished. Deuce was certain that the hair was the only false thing about her. Another woman of similar general appearance was in the background, watching it all with exactly the look of a bestie wishing success to her friend.

"Mister Wayans, can I talk to you, please?" Her appearance and manner were appealing enough, that it never occurred to Deuce to tell her she should say "May I" rather than "Can I."

"At your service-- Miss Britt, yes?"

Nodding-- "I want to thank you, sir, for the service you already did me."

"What can I say except 'You're welcome'? But what did I do for you?"

"'Which Woman Is Me?', my book. You wrote positive reviews for it in the media, and arranged for copies to be placed in the libraries of all the Life Avenues, as well as libraries in all remaining stand-alone cities, like Yorkborough. You even knew to give Life Avenues the edition where I left out direct references to my belief in Jesus; for some other libraries, and for your friends and families, the complete version."

"I'm glad to have made the right call." He lowered his voice. "God-- not 'Goddess'-- knows that many women who never suffered anything like the mistreatment you endured, love to complain about purely made-up ordeals. Is there anything further I can do for you?"

Symphony glanced back at Cassina, who gave her a thumbs-up. Turning to Deuce again, she touched her mouth with her fingers, then touched her fingers to Deuce's mouth. "You can help me to show the public that I'm not a shy little wallflower. As a strong and brave wammun, let me ask you out on a date, at a fun roadhouse just over the Kansas line."

Deuce shot a glance at Cassina. "And, I assume, bring a friend for your friend?"

"It's only fair."

"I have just the single gent for-- that's Miss Dragglehaira watching us, isn't it?"

"The same, fellow veteran of the Scotty Squirrel Club."

Though keeping his "eyes up here" at Symphony's face, Deuce beckoned to the wing-girl. "Kindly join us, Cassina. I'm going to introduce you to a pal of mine who is trustworthy, loyal and helpful, but never boring." He gestured toward a fair-haired man who was walking toward them. "Cassina Dragglehaira, this is Andrew Dean Richardson."

The moment Deuce lifted a foot to follow Andrew and Cassina, Symphony reached for his hand. His hand welcomed hers, and they walked together as if they had known each other all their lives. On her side, for as long as she had been aware of Deuce's existence, she had known that he was immeasurably superior in moral character to any male who had influenced her life so far. And the last thing she wanted in her life, while her hope of raising children remained, was another Exciting Bad Boy. Deuce Wayans was a proven, certified Knight in Shining Armor.

The roadhouse had an attached motel; overnight reservations were made for two men in one room, two women in the other. The newcomer drove; Deuce and Symphony sat in back, where Symphony buckled in at the center, over the transmission hump, so that her seat belt would not prevent her from crowding in under Deuce's left arm. (His arm had been silently waiting to encircle her.) During the drive east from Limon, Deuce told her with total sincerity how he admired her endurance amid cruel adversity, while Symphony told him with total sincerity how impressed she was by his willingness to face death while protecting the helpless. With no awkwardness at all, they were kissing and hugging and kissing again long before their destination came into sight.

Up front alongside Andrew, with her left hand settled on his right knee, Cassina noticed, but did not mention, the fact that the car's gas tank never went empty. NOTE: Deuce has never met Kahilu Baloval from the Africa of Earth-Whichever, but readers will recall what a technopath is. Yes, that's what Mister Richardson is, a natural fantasy extrapolation of McGyver.
 
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"The mutational researchers began with a baby reindeer doe, named Zaznoba. Making her stronger and smarter succeeded well enough that they accelerated the more profound creation of Storozh Medved." Researcher Lavrentiy Bakunin, an energy-industry manager for the Union of Cooperative Collective Republics, based in Omsk, waited for Major Dai Kung-Ya, Chinese National Police, to translate what he had said so far to the other two visitors. These others were friends of the lately self-unmasked Street-Bat. Half-Chinese Theda Kirby was the sister of Deuce's henchman Chang-Shi Kirby, while Alabama Jones was an archaeologist and speleologist, who knew a good deal about the earth-dragon Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin.

But of the three visitors, only Major Dai knew what "Storozh Medved," Russian for "Sentry Bear," meant in this context.

At the start of their drive in an all-terrain truck, Professor Jones declared, "All right, we need to be on the same page. I know the most about where the elemental monster the comes from, and what it wants. Theda knows plenty about its recent actions. Lavrentiy knows how much this mutant bear can do against the monsters. And the Major presumably can verify what I believe to be true about how the Righteous Mountain Warriors legend may point our way to a solution."

Their drive detoured by a railroad platform, where they picked up Lavrentiy's girlfriend, Nariyana Aytalovna Keskil, who knew about the enhanced animal Zaznoba. But she knew nothing about the above-mentioned Chinese legend, so her joining the others created the perfect occasion for some exposition. Dai Kung-Ya provided it:

"Generations before the Manchus conquered China, several famous martial artists, in separate incidents, were abused, robbed, and falsely charged by judges who ran their courts for no other purpose than to get rich by taking bribes from the guilty. But in a sort of tidal shift, not planned by anyone, one of these heroes would meet another, both together would rescue a third man from being unjustly executed. Eventually, they formed a community, situated on a mountain which was easily defensible. Working-class people who had also been mistreated by the law sought shelter with the Mountain Warriors; they were accepted, and became part of a new extended family by contributing whatever skills they possessed.

"Three men stood out as leaders. The eldest was Hong Er-Sen, reputed the greatest bowman of his generation. Tales claim that he could cause an arrow to strike a target miles away which he couldn't even see. While not helpless at close quarters, Er-Sen always knew that archery was his greatest strength; archery, and battle planning. The tallest and most muscular of the trio was Yung Po-Lu, who habitually fought either with a two-handed battleaxe or empty-handed. Some claimed that he could pull at one mature bamboo stalk, and the whole stand would be uprooted. Youngest, and swiftest, was Kyu Tam-Hai. With any type of sword, he could behead one foe, then slay another before the first one's head hit the ground. Furthermore, evil magic spells had no effect on them; but if a good-aligned magician stood near them, spells cast by this magician were made more effective.

"We can be sure that world history would have been far worse if not for the Righteous Warriors. Now it's near-future history that lies under our hands. We'll soon be in voice contact with Yevdokia Danilova." The Major was referring to the woman who supervised the natural-gas well which had become a mad-scientist lair. Bacteria thriving in the gas reservoir were the McGuffin which had enhanced cute little Zaznoba, and which was transforming Storozh Medved into a hoped-for giant-killer.

Alabama Jones now chimed in: "The fact that Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin is literally, visibly walking around gives credibility to all the legends. I already believed in the supernatural anyway, ever since my expeditions to find Biblical relics; so there's no difficulty with believing in the Righteous Mountain Warriors. God could easily have appointed them to cover bases where no Israelite presence existed. Do you think they can be awakened?"

The major huffed. "I hope so. For sure, there are no known gravesites for those three chiefs, nor for their highest-ranking deputies. No disrespect to Street-Bat, but all of this is over his head. And even if the elemental dragon is vulnerable to artillery, it won't sit still to be shot at."

Nariyana finally spoke up: "With luck, we'll be able to turn out more like Storozh Medved."

"What has me puzzled," said Theda, "is the question, if the earth dragon is bad, why has it taken pains never to kill anybody?"

Alabama's face hardened. "It wants to be worshiped. Dozens of ancient kings and queens claimed to be gods; but the Righteous Mountain Warriors didn't. Maybe Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin is old enough to know all of that history, and it wants to be regarded, with any allied monsters it has in reserve, as a force for good? For evolution? For enlightenment?"

At the research center, several eyebrows rose when the uninitiated visitors realized that the transformed polar bear now had six legs. But this didn't prevent them from sharing with Doctor Danilova what they had been discussing on the overland trip.

Yevdokia Danilova replied: "As a researcher for the U.C.C.R.'s most sensitive projects, I am duty-bound to scoff at any belief in the supernatural. But, um, if I hypothetically relaxed my materialistic position, I would entertain the hypothesis that Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin does in fact want to be worshiped-- if only to insult the actual Creator."
...............................................

"When did your power to recalibrate machines appear? With puberty?"

"Earlier. Age eight. I wanted to play Space Trespassers; I didn't know that my gaming module had no batteries in it--but it still worked because I wanted it to. No one was more surprised than I was when I realized the truth."

"How did your parents take it?"

"Better than I expected. I could fuel their car without fuel, just as you saw on our drive into Kansas. A money saver there; but merely supplying power for something doesn't take much intuition. First time I tried to make the washing machine work for Mom, it didn't wash until I consciously willed the water valve to open and fill it. Years more before my gift began to cover more stuff on its own."

The story-version of Christina Aguilera murmured, "Well, I will this to happen;" and, although both were fully clothed, lying on a grassy slope, she was most emphatic about kissing the story-version of a memorable TV actor on True Earth. Pulling back eventually, but remaining in his embrace, she said, "Tell me more."

"I was disappointed that I couldn't heal sick people...... or pets." He sighed. "My first really dramatic stunt, for me, was at age ten, in a hospital, visiting a school friend who had needed surgery after a softball injury. He told me about a man in a nearby room who was on oxygen while waiting for major surgery. During the visit, I suddenly knew that the monitoring instruments for the man's vital signs weren't reading accurately. So I whispered, 'Work right over there!' And with nobody knowing I did anything, I could feel that the instruments were corrected."

Kissing him again, Cassina remarked: "So nobody knew. I can see that you would have to keep it quiet, or you would never have a minute to yourself. Well, I won't tell, and neither will my friend."

Symphony and Cassina had made their guest/reunion television appearance with Lindy Soper; and their respective cavaliers had hung around. Parallel with several days when the Storozh Medved project in Siberia continued, Symphony deepened her acquaintance with Street-Bat Emeritus, and Cassina likewise with Andrew Dean Richardson the machinery sorcerer. This was a matter of getting to know each other as persons with ideas and feelings-- no matter how many misandrist females might want to believe that men were incapable of this. Right now, Deuce and Symphony were similarly snuggling twenty yards away.

Till they spotted Washday Anagram and Ladora Greeley marching toward them. Humbly trailing them was Henri Creme-Broulet of Louisiana, the consummate Beta male who had acted in Sybil Dampning's feminist-flattering "Street-Brat" play.

Sitting up, Deuce didn't say any of the things Washday might have expected him to say. Instead, since it was no secret that both of these women had traveled with Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin and come away unharmed, he told them, "If you see your scaly friend, tell it that I will never worship it."

The Interior Secretary, the snotty rich brat and the toady continued on their way.

"What do you mean, worship?" Symphony asked. But before Deuce could give a real answer, Alvin Springbuck and Chandelle Rune scooped them up, to bring Andrew and Cassina also for a picnic lunch.
 
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One more chaos creature had, as it happened, been awakened by Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin. Buried under the center of Africa was a thing like a half-kilometer-wide starfish, with only three slim, evenly-spaced arms attached to its comparatively small body. It had no eyes, but perceived all that was around it. If a telepath could have read this entity's mind, its self- awareness would have come across as the syllables Rassigovoolut. (Accent next-to-last syllable.) It could flow through rock as Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin did; and like the elemental dragon, its awareness was the awareness of an evil spirit, yet it had a deeper agenda than killing people.

REMEMBER, the first monster had told the second, WE MUST >NOT< BE HASTY TO KILL ANY HUMANS. OUR ENEMY ABOVE MIGHT DECIDE TO STRIKE >US< DEAD IF WE ARE TOO BLATANT. WE MUST ERODE THE MORTALS' >WORTHINESS< TO BE PROTECTED. IN FACT, MUCH OF THE TIME, THE HUMANS WILL THEMSELVES DO THE JOB OF ESTRANGING THEMSELVES.

>> Omniscient narrator informs the readers that these monsters are a sort of autonomous branch of Hopecrusher Central. As such, they know all about the opposing good and evil sides of the Never-Stopping Story.
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"Mister Kirby, I've been wondering something about cars fueled with natural gas...."

Since his sister had already traveled to Siberia with Alabama Jones, it was natural for Chang-Shi Kirby to fly out and join her. As with Earth-Whichever, airline travel on Bat-Earth was less efficient than on Original Earth. With Chang-Shi went someone whom Deuce's mother Beatrice Wayans had asked Chang-Shi to bring along. Danny bin-Tarik was an up-and-coming teen-trooper in the Oneness Pioneers.

"Gasoline's a liquid," the boy went on, "and natural gas is gas. How can liquid and gaseous fuels both be used for internal combustion engines?"

Chang-Shi reminded himself: No question is a stupid question if asked from a sincere desire to learn. "The difference, or the lack of difference, is to be seen at the point of ignition. A liquid scattered as vapor behaves very similarly to something in a truly gaseous state. You wouldn't pour liquid gasoline into the pistons of an engine; you wouldn't be able to control its burning, if it even did burn. But a dose of natural gas entering a piston ignites dependably when the spark plug sparks, and gasoline vapor does the same. Their storage differs more than the substances differ."

Danny was male-- in a version of the United States which had one foot in Marxism, and the other foot in pagan goddess-worship. Schoolteachers had been more interested in scolding him for supposedly keeping women under a glass ceiling, than in teaching him useful knowledge. Here aboard the airliner, the floodgates opened. The boy wanted to know the difference between electricity in a direct current and in an alternating current; the difference between cantilever bridges, basic-arch bridges, and suspension bridges; how the aerodynamics of airplane wings translated into helicopter rotors; why a foot-wide square covered more area than a foot-wide circle, and more.

Even if my trip doesn't help Theda to defeat the monsters, I can help Danny bin-Tarik to defeat his obstacles.
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At the site in Omsk Oblast, workers showed the boy interesting features which had nothing to do with mutated polar bears. Theda got to business telling her brother the latest news. A second young polar bear, and a young Kamchatka bear (similar to Kodiak bears), were beginning the enhancement process. Less encouraging: Alabama Jones was missing.

"Yevdokia obtained the use of rock-penetrating sound emitters. They not only found a deep tunnel that shouldn't be there; they also detected movement. Alabama confirmed his reputation for boldness, doing a descent alone, without waiting for local spelunkers to join him.

"Now he's missing."
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In Rocky Mountain Time Zone America, it was the previous night. No one hereabouts knew yet that a famous archaeologist was in peril on the other side of the world. The two blonde songbirds and their chivalrous new boyfriends were west of Limon, in the small town of Genoa-- which, like Limon, matched a same-name town on True Earth. Andrew Dean Richardson had acquaintances and family in Genoa, who were excited to entertain the lately-unmasked Street-Bat. The newly-badged U.S. Marshal signed autographs and answered questions for townsfolk, until Andrew's relatives asserted their claim on the guests..

The hosts knew some about Andrew's metahuman talent, and were glad to be assured that it hadn't brought any trouble onto his head. After a hearty supper full of deeper catching up-- including a frank admission that the two new romantic relationships were not yet fully defined, but both looked promising-- the hosts allowed the foursome to pitch two tents behind the house (girl-girl and boy-boy), flanking a safely-designed fire pit. None of the four travelers knew anything yet about Alabama Jones' predicament, but they-- especially Deuce Wayans-- had plenty to discuss before eventually withdrawing to their G-rated sleeping arrangement. The talk began with a revelation easily as remarkable as Deuce being Street-Bat.

DEUCE: Symphony, Andrew, Cassina--I hope that the phenomenal things you already know about-- like a monster that swims through solid rock-- will brace you for something even harder to take in. Let me think. Do you remember, a couple of years ago, how food-resource officials became aware of a kind of edible moss which would supply the missing Vitamin B-12 for vegans? Nobody on Earth discovered this or invented it; the moss grows naturally on another planet.

CASSINA: Other planet? That would have to be Mars, wouldn't it?

DEUCE: That's the most logical guess--if you preclude interstellar travel. But the fact is that the moss grows on a world in a different star system: like Earth, but with no people on it. A friend from outer space imported it here, having confirmed that it wouldn't harm our environment, then got it growing in many nations. All to protect humans from vitamin deficiency.

ANDREW: Does your saying "humans" mean that the provider of this moss-- ISN'T human?

DEUCE: Got it in one. His name is Fojadosh Ludping. He is shaped like a tree sloth, but more vigorous. He's part of a non-governmental organization, supported by many planets. Yes, there are many planets with civilizations on them. The network Fojadosh works for has a name which, in English, could be translated as "The Protective Army with Green Lamps." If not for them, less powerful planets like this one might have been conquered long ago-- like in sci-fi movies, only with no happy ending.

SYMPHONY: This is even harder to get my head around than Fin-Pin-Chin-Zin.

DEUCE (not nit-picking her about the earth- dragon's name): I'm sure. But there's more. Some of you may have had history teachers who encouraged What-If discussions. Like what if Abraham Lincoln had been assassinated, instead of living on for a second term as he did in our world? Or what if the United States had sent men to land on the Moon, instead of deciding it was a waste of time? There are not only other populated planets in the galaxy...... but other worlds like our own, with human beings like us, only events were different, like my examples.

CASSINA: "Worlds," plural?

DEUCE: Yes, plural. There's more than one parallel Earth-- and also planets which aren't Earth at all. There are aliens shaped like reptiles, or like big insects: thinking creatures, who have souls just as we have. I promise you, many of them are friendly. And many of the friendlies are aware that our world exists.

CASSINA: Now I'll never get to sleep.

ANDREW: Girls, I have a suggestion, all on the up-and-up, like something in a family-friendly story. It's a mild night. Let's all sleep in our clothes, outside the tents, boys with their girls. With luck, we might still fall asleep.
 
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The host family's backyard had a hand-operated water pump for drinking and washing, plus a porta-potty in good working order; they had accommodated many guests on the route between Wichita and Denver. Andrew and Cassina didn't take long at all to fall asleep in each other's arms. Deuce and Symphony settled in an equally close embrace, but neither was ready to sleep yet, even in what now seemed to them like the best possible sleeping position.

"I love you so much," Symphony told her new man, weeping as she murmured this. "With you beside me, I won't even be afraid of bug-eyed monsters. Not even if they have death rays you haven't mentioned yet."

Deuce kissed her mouth, neck and forehead. "Let me mention something more optimistic. This needs to be known only to you and me; not only can it protect you from harm if used skillfully, it can make you the protector of many others. I used the words 'Green Lamps' loosely, but they refer to the primary equipment of my alien friend Fojadosh and his comrades. Call it a Green Flashlight." He now showed her something like a wrist brace or a fingerless glove. A smooth green oval was mounted where it would rest on the back of a wearer's hand.

"I have worn this artifact myself. I have used it myself as a tool, as protection. But all the apples shouldn't be in just one basket. Even without a Green Flashlight, I have enough skills and special devices that I can still do plenty. Symphony, I want this alien prosthesis to be yours from now on. It can sense that you are worthy to bear it, and it will help you to understand its use. When we're married--"

She kissed him hard. "I take that as a proposal, my answer is YES, and my hero-training can be the honeymoon!"

In the morning, Deuce told their hosts that he and the famous abuse survivor were now engaged to be married. "The ceremony will probably take place on my brother's ranch, date to be announced. My people will see to your transportation, and you'll have reserved seats for the reception. God bless you real good!"

They still didn't know about the peril Alabama Jones had encountered in Siberia, but soon they would.

............................................

Theda Kirby and company weren't waiting to find out that they might soon have a Green Flashlight in their corner. But Lavrentiy Bakunin brought a bit of hopeful news without delay.

"Ground-penetrating sonar still hasn't found Professor Jones, but it verifies tunnels which are easily passable. And this detail clears the way for potential mission reinforcement. Listen to this, druzya. You know that Storozh Medved understands Russian. He also understands situations better than any of us expected. He understands that a friend of his humans is in trouble, and he wants to help. Many of the new tunnels are big enough to let Storozh walk along standing up on his rear feet."

An ethnic Yakut worker with a nickname translating as "Sled Racer" had enjoyed a particularly friendly relationship with Storozh. He volunteered to accompany any search party that included the mutant polar bear. These two were joined by Chang-Shi, Lavrentiy, and an army veteran called Gerkul, who had long experience with harsh winter service. Note that the "G" here is a hard G, and Gerkul is a Russian translation of Hercules. The humans, and even the super-bear, were fitted with infrared goggles, in order to enable some vision without self-betraying regular lamps.
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Alabama Jones was alive, or it seemed to him that he was. Cogito, ergo sum; he definitely still existed. He had not gone to The Good Place; and if this was The Bad Place, there wasn't anyone around to torture him-- except it was rotten luck that his lamp was missing. With more thought, he knew he had probably slept. Confound me for always forgetting what I dream about! No use cursing my subconscious brain; more productive to search for a way out.

Feeling a loose piece of stone, he wrapped it in a spare handkerchief, and set it down to mark where he had awakened. Then he began creeping along what felt like an ascending slope. At least if he found the handkerchief again, he would know he had traveled in a circle.
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Around the time when Deuce put Symphony on the path of being a Green Flashlight, the management of the recording studio that the African- American Maxie Viva had used, attracted the business of still another blonde singer, this one from the East Coast and calling herself Lady Gargle. She was as beautiful as Symphony, Cassina, Smiley or Chandelle, but had more of an urban-snob air about her. Smiley was not particularly immersed in the recent events in Limon; so, when she heard that a new diva was being signed on at the studio in Nebraska, she hired a driver to take her there.

No matter that Gargle usually considered middle-America business establishments to be far beneath her notice; she resented anyone else using something that she even might ever want to use. She also knew that Smiley Virus was lately regaining media exposure, and this invited competitive jealousy. As I have said, mobile phones were still scarce on Bat-Earth; but Gargle had sent a fax ahead to the studio, saying to expect her there within three hours.

Smiley Virus had plenty of advance warning, so she was ready for a battle of blondes as soon as Lady Gargle arrived and stepped out of the car. The two almost-interchangeable celebrities advanced against each other. Neither one wanted her makeup or her hair to be spoiled by slapping or hair-pulling or any such. By unspoken agreement, they simply closed their hands on each other's shoulders, and began a bloodless shoving match. As if to convince onlookers that there was a fight here worthy to be called a fight, they both yelled various naughty words.

Smiley forced Gargle back one step, then Gargle pushed Smiley back two steps. More of the same for nearly a minute. Then, in a dramatic change of tactics (at least, in their opinion), they changed to sideways tilting. For fifteen or twenty seconds, they swayed together, leaning one way and then the other way, never losing hold of each other's shoulders. All the while, the shrill insults continued, each one ridiculing the other. Next, they turned in place: clockwise, then counter-clockwise, et cetera. When this made them both dizzy, they sat down in the parking lot and began an index-finger swordfight, still gasping taunts at each other. When they had their second wind, they nodded at each other, helped each other stand up, and resumed the theatrical effort to convince all witnesses that each one was genuinely fighting against the other.

Eventually, the manager of the studio got their attention. "We expanded! We built a second recording chamber, and hired additional technicians. Both of you can record songs at the same time!"
 
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In Omsk, Yevdokia Danilova called on gas-well employees to set up the surface base for the rescue mission. This entailed stringing lights, and supplying pitons to secure knotted climbing lines. Making the descent would be the Kirby siblings, Gerkul the army veteran, Storozh Medved the six-legged polar bear (unless and until the galleries became too narrow for him), the rugged Yakut worker called Sled Racer, and (partway down to a stand-by point) the young man Danny bin-Tarik.

Twelve meters vertically below the surface, the mutant bear signaled that he had found Alabama's scent. Sixteen minutes after this, their passageway widened; at the same point, a narrower tunnel diverged to the left; Storozh indicated that Alabama Jones had gone into the small tunnel, where it would be physically impossible for Storozh to follow. But the unbroken main gallery kept going, and it yielded a scent which might be Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin. Gerkul and Theda entered the tunnel which might lead to the missing archaeologist. Sled Racer scouted a short distance down the larger passage, while Chang-Shi and Storozh waited at the fork of the road.

Sled Racer heard a faint sound, which led him to proceed farther. Faint sound became quiet speech-- in his own ancestral tongue. "Sled Racer, you do not understand what you seek. The foreign man for whom you are concerned is alive, and you need to look into that which he has begun to understand. This should be no secret, your friends could also profit by it."

"Professor Jones is alive! This way!"

The passage being adequately spacious, Once Chang-Shi started forward, Storozh Medved followed him. Danny bin-Tarik then called for Theda and Gerkul. Sure enough, Alabama Jones and Sled Racer were both intact and fully conscious. Storozh signaled that he smelled something else, but that he didn't think it was hostile.

"The elementals, at least two, maybe more, are with us," Alabama told his friends. "They tell me that the sky, the heavens, the very idea of questing for unreachable stars, are all primitive ignorance. It's in the depths, at the root, that wisdom is offered."

Sled Racer chimed in: "Just look at the whole energy industry of the U.C.C.R.! Natural gas from underground has done us more good than trials of solar power ever did. The utilities in America's Life Avenues all run underground. No one on Earth has made a case for visiting other planets. Everything that matters is downward, it's inside."

No one listening to the blue-collar Yakut thought to consider how he came to be talking in such a highbrow fashion. But Storozh Medved was noticing something altogether different. As quickly as he could move without harming Racer or Alabama, the super-bear passed behind those men, and uttered a heavy growl as he made for something beyond them. It was the faceless earth-elemental Rassigo-VOO-lut, and Storozh fell upon the snaky segment which was within his reach.

Big though Storozh was, Rassigovulut was many times bigger. But just imagine a rabid squirrel attacking your ankle. The enormous tentacle threw off its attacker, but was bleeding scummy blood as it withdrew. Then came the ominous confirmation that the quasi- starfish had the same impossible power as its dragon-ish comrade. It sank, merged into the stone floor. "Look out for it to return!" Theda warned. "While it's in solid form, it still can be hurt!" But she had no delusions about killing it easily with small arms; instead, the party hustled Alabama and Sled Racer onto the upward route.

They covered more than half of the distance toward comparative safety-- and then the wounded tentacle rose into view again. The humans and the super-bear could see that it was maybe one-fourth healed. It couldn't move quickly enough to catch any of them before they were all on the surface; and its full emergence from underground went more slowly than moving in open air.

The spherical center was in view some two hundred meters away; would have been much farther if the tentacle had been sticking straight outward from the body. Chang-Shi began shooting, and everyone else with guns aimed at the same spot. The ground wobbled as Rassigovulut came the rest of the way out into the air and advanced toward its foes. "Scatter!" shouted Gerkul, and everyone did. The eyeless round body rotated, enough to bring another tentacle to bear. Storozh Medved pounced on that one, wounding it also before it shook him off. The defenders put bullets into the monster at points not previously wounded-- until it was fully up on the surface, lurching faster now. Shooting became secondary to evasive maneuvers.

The reader is invited to search out an old Shaw Brothers kung-fu movie, whose English title is "Seven Blows of the Dragon." Listen to the main soundtrack theme. Now imagine that this melody was heard in the air at this point. The point when a four-foot-long arrow passed by one side of the hero-team, penetrated all the way through Rassigovulut's body....turned 180 degrees, drilling back through it again.... then looped up, climbed fifty feet straight up.... and finished with a power dive, sinking out of sight, and staying buried where the monster's brain should be.

The apparent death convulsions of the starfish-like demon brought its heretofore-unseen third limb into view. The ground shuddered so hard that even Storozh had difficulty staying on his feet. When all was quiet, a dry-faced Chinese man in period attire came walking toward the heroes. He bore a double-curved compound bow, with a short bronze sword as a secondary weapon, and something like a coiled rope hung on the opposite hip from his quiver of arrows.

"Good karma be to you, my friends. I am Hong Er-Sen, of the Mountain Warriors."
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Back in Colorado, the blonde Smiley Virus brought her new roommate, the blonde Lady Gargle, to meet her father Billy Roy Virus: chiefly to create opportunities for the two snotty divas to behave disrespectfully toward a father. Leasing a spacious apartment not far from Limon's new resort, they soon parked on their sofa, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip and knee to knee, discussing the strategic topic of which prominent women they should flatter, and which they should treat with contempt.

"We have the luxury of choice," Gargle declared. "We can form alliances with other hot women, all agreeing to agree how superior we all are to ugly losers like that Sybil Dampning. Or we can be generous to the losers, win their gratitude, and have them as grateful errand-runners."

Smiley leaned in closer against her partner-in-something-or-other. "Aligning with fellow queens has a serious DIS-advantage: we would be working the same street as Washday Anagram. She doesn't really like anyone outside her family; and she would never speak to either of us without demanding that we loudly agree she can beat up Deuce Wayans with her eyes closed."

"Which we know she can't. I follow you. If we make nice with Beatrice Wayans, we'll disarm anyone who might suspect us of planning trouble for MAR-shalllll Wayans. And since President Hegel favors women over forty--"

"--his taste hands us the chance to offer him a two-for-one romp with us!"

Gargle sighed, then softly tapped a fingertip on Smiley's nose. "Wrong, darling. We team up with Beatrice to squeeze out another forty-plus woman who has also kept naturally fit, and who enjoys the dangerous-- for us --advantage of being on very good terms with Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin."

"Oh. You mean the Secretary of the Interior."

The nasty girls kept on brainstorming about Ladora Greeley as they made ready for bed. But only when both were halfway asleep did a dry, harsh voice startle them. You have begun to sniff a promising trail, mortals; but your way of removing Ladora Greeley is as important to your ambitions as the fact of removing her."
 
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=====>> RETURN TO THE EASTERN HEMISPHERE !

Recall that I said the mountain hero Hong Er-Sen was carrying an extra item. I think I decided that the Righteous Warriors could be understood by whomever they spoke to. The fearless archer handed the special item to Alabama Jones: a blacksnake whip.

"Courageous adventurer and scholar, this whip is about to become your third arm. It will impart to your mind the skill to handle it, and will do just what you need it to do. It is almost indestructible, and has power to wound or ensnare demonic beings. For there still are demonic beings to cope with. Rassigovulut has been sent to its eternal punishment; but not only is Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin still alive, there is another one you have not yet heard of. It is called Keegapek-Taga."
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WESTERN HEMISPHERE AGAIN: That's right, readers, Keegapek-Taga is the being whose voice sharply delayed sleep for Smiley Virus and Lady Gargle. Once Gargle climbed at an angle over Smiley's back, she glimpsed what the slightly-shorter-nosed blonde was staring at.

What looked like a silvery knitting needle had thrust itself up through the floor. The exposed part of the needle extended from an apparent length of seven inches, up to fifteen inches, at which time a second knitting needle poked its way out. When a third needle appeared in a horizontal attitude, revealing itself as connecting the first two together-- without breaking the floor-- the women understood that whatever they were seeing was held together in a structure, like the girders of an urban tower being built. AND that the being could become ethereal at will.

"Ladora Greeley must not merely die; she must be deliberately sacrificed to the power of chaos. This action, by natives of Planet Earth, will serve as consent for many more of us daring, self-sufficient spirits to enter your world. The two of you need not be on the scene of Ladora's death, to be contributing to its effectiveness. Merely accept my gift of power for yourselves.

"How does this work?" asked Smiley.

Think of yourselves as a hero-team. Since you both are "stunningly beautiful" by human standards, and since you physically resemble each other, I suggest that you call yourselves "The Stunner Twins." As two souls bound together, you serve as a small community, ratifying our license to increase our presence in your world. I suggest that you agree on a trigger-phrase, which awakens the power for both of you.

The portion of Keegapek-Taga's honeycombed body present in the bedroom now reached the ceiling. With one accord (as both women remembered the expression "Great minds think alike"), they drew closer together, kissed intently, and exclaimed in unison, "STUNNER-TWIN POWERS, ACTIVATE!"

"Stay together always, and the deep realm will enable you to make decisions which advance your shared self-interest." Then the geodesic fiend sank out of sight, leaving the floor intact. Before testing their new magic, the two decided to alter their names for when they were acting upon their shared ability. Smiley Virus would be Mighty Virus, and Lady Gargle would be Lady Gargoyle. Since Gargle/Gargoyle had not performed a self-wedding, Smiley/Mighty urged her to do it also; "Then we can be in-laws!"

Keegapek-Taga trusted the two fortyish spoiled brats to carry their lawlessness forward without more prompting. And they did, albeit still restrained somewhat by fear of consequences. "Nothing murderous," they agreed. "The monsters can see to the parts where people get dead. We'll settle for disrupting stuff."

So it was that, at the equestrian resort, Benny Lake forgot how to walk on stilts, while Steve Grant forgot how to ride his unicycle. Shirley Digs-Many-Roots uncharacteristically forgot to rub down several horses who had just finished forty-five minutes of strenuous activity. But the Actual God, to Whom Copperfox is a real-life servant, can and does force good to come out of evil, no thanks to the evil. Steve and Benny both gained respect from people who knew them, by not being crybabies about their embarrassment. Bartolomeo Wayans, nephew to the original Street-Bat, hastened to attend Shirley's horses, which scored serious points for him with the Cheyenne lady he adored.
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The middle-aged Beatrice Wayans regarded herself as the de-facto First Lady to U.S. President Mark S. Hegel. He was a bachelor, but no other woman had so greatly sold out her moral principles for him as the ex-Mennonite had. She had, for instance, kept up her selective pacifism: disrespecting her husband Rudyard who had died saving her life, yet applauding the Department of Domestic Order for violently silencing the least bit of dissent. So yes, she was highly receptive to hearing from underworld monsters.

If you know the old Christian-bashing prog-rock band Emerson, Lake and Palmer, think of the armadillo-like monster pictured on the cover of their "Tarkus" album. The fourth elemental monster to get in on the game resembled the Tarkus beast. It called itself Howitz-Orkum, and it shared the ability of Keegapek-Taga and Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin to communicate easily with corrupted mortals.

Wise lady, I am an associate of the earth elemental who is known to you. I am hailing you mentally on Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin's behalf, to alert you that the office of Interior Secretary is about to become vacant. You deserve to replace Ladora Greeley in that position, because you have infinitely greater appreciation of the fullness of the unity of the everything-ness than she ever had. And, of course, she is guilty of the heinous crime of being younger and better-looking than you. Her death will not be on your head as she dies in Siberia, but her frequent place in Mark's bed will soon be yours. You need only prepare yourself by reading up on recent activity at the Department of the Interior.
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As she had done before, the auburn-haired Ladora (contrasted with Chandelle Rune's all-out red hair) was riding within a sort of cavity inside Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin's forward body. She knew she was heading for Omsk in Siberia, but it seemed odd for the elemental dragon to say nothing at all to her. However, she didn't become alarmed until the dragon DID say something to her.

It has been enjoyable for me to follow your petty little career, Ladora. Because you never ordered any executions, nor intended to harm anyone by the tyranny of the Life Avenues, you think yourself innocent. Yet you chose to feel amused by proletarians, when they strove to outdo each other with contrite confessions at self-criticism sessions. In the minutes of life remaining to you, perhaps you should try to concoct a more truthful self-criticism, admitting how you smirked at slogans like "If you don't see anything, make something up." Maybe wishful thinking will assure you that there is a God to forgive you for your callous indifference to justice.

It wasn't a lot of fun being Ladora Greeley at this point in time. But neither were Alabama Jones and his companions having a picnic in the Siberian region around the natural-gas well.
 
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A broad zone of extremely bad weather sat in between the Omsk Oblast gas-industry installation and the nearest Russian air force base. It could not have picked a worse time to ground the very aircraft which would otherwise have come to the aid of Lavrentiy Bakunin and Nariyana Keskil.
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"Time your shots!" barked Theda Kirby. She was part of a stand being made east of the natural-gas well. Alabama Jones and Gerkul were carefully alternating their fire with her. Some locals were in the defense with hunting rifles, filling gaps in the barrage. Theda's brother Chang-Shi was off to the right flank with Master Hong Er-Sen the archer. What they were all shooting at was a horde of pale subhumans, boiling up from numerous burrows. These were like double-size imitations of JRR Tolkien's Gollum, with more and longer teeth.
,
The boy Danny bin-Tarik had a revolver of weight he could manage, with two swap-out cylinders. The brain-tampered Yakut worker called Sled Racer was in his care, because no place was completely safe now. The less-combat-effective people of the natural gas workers' community were forted up where the gas-well environment wouldn't let the pale goblins tunnel into their midst. Lavrentiy and Nariyana were also there, with firearms at hand; and this refuge had animal guardians. The six-legged Storozh Medved still was recuperating from battle wounds, but had not lost all his fighting ability. Three other faithful animals were there: Zaznoba the super-tough reindeer, and the two extra bears whom there had not yet been time to enhance.

"I wish Dai Kung-Ya had been able to wake up all of the Righteous Mountain Warriors," Lavrentiy sighed.
.................................................

The warriors who had been revived from the past were the mightiest. In descending order of actually-living age: Hong Er-Sen the never-failing archer, Yung Po-Lu the brawny axe-wielder, and Kyu Tam-Hai the inhumanly swift swordsman. Er-Sen expertly identified each spot in the enemy advance where his shooting would help the most. The other two Chinese legends waited to see where they would be needed in melee.

Rassigovulut, the tentacled yucky-thing, was already in The Bad Place. Two other evil elementals turned up together, before all of the Gollum-oids had been felled. Facing the defenders' left flank was the especially-weird steel-puzzle creature calling itself Keegapek-Taga, the one who had mentored the "Stunner Twins" in being obnoxious. On the other flank was a newcomer, shaped like a stupendous armadillo, but with something like forward-facing cannons organically embedded in its shoulders. As Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin was able to do, this monster could send its thoughts:

I am Howitz-Orkum, and I have come to prove that the underneath is all. The heavens are empty, and you will die knowing that you cannot live on in any way, shape or spirit form. In this knowledge---

But Howitz-Orkum couldn't finish its taunt before Kyu Tam-Hai was upon it. Leaping onto its face, Tam-Hai slashed right and left, damaging both of its cannons before they could fire a shot. Chang-Shi Kirby's instincts guided his own words: "All who can shoot, with me! The rest, with Po-Lu against the criss-cross one, break it apart!"

Theda understood the reason for this. Using the last round in her gun to dispatch the one ground-goblin close to her, she caught up an axe dropped by a civilian volunteer who had gone down fighting, holstering her pistol. She was the quickest fighter to follow Yung Po-Lu and Alabama Jones. Getting ahead of Po-Lu, Alabama swung his enchanted whip, which seemed to grow longer. And when it firmly wrapped around one metal tube in Keegapek-Taga's crazy structure, the whip shortened again, boosting its owner in a prodigious bound. Flexed knees dissipated the impact, skillfully regaining a stance right next to his whip, Alabama regained hold of his whip, then freed it to strike again. Shining with righteous fury, it cut easily through three separate bars of the asymmetrical structure.

In reply, Keegapek-Taga swiftly grew an extension which resembled a seaport cargo-hoisting crane. Warping its form, this tried to reach Alabama, forming a wide talon as it extended. But Po-Lu with his mighty two-headed axe, and Theda with her smaller single-headed one, hewed together at a part which was bearing much of Keegapek-Taga's weight. Beginning to topple, the monstrosity hastily extruded an extra sort-of-leg to hold itself upright; but the rank-and-file humans now understood what to do, thus joined Po-Lu and Theda in hacking away. Evil must win, because good is dumb!! Keegapek-Taga yelled with a metallic tone, while forming another limb to strike at Theda, Po-Lu and those beside them. But Alabama shouted back at it: "GOOD IS BETTER THAN EVIL, BECAUSE IT'S NICER!!"

The wicked elemental shuddered, missing its aim against the foes in front of it. Swinging down on his extensible whip, which knew what he needed it to do, he landed cleanly; then he began whirling his whip. {Think of General Grievous' tactic against Obi-Wan Kenobi.} Advancing relentlessly, Alabama sent pieces tumbling and bouncing. With a cry of What a world, what a world!, Keegapek-Taga perished and melted.


Theda and many others hustled to get away from the scattering metal shards, the smallest of these weighing more than fifty pounds. Since Copperfox doesn't want Professor Jones' action to cause the deaths of anonymous innocents (even though Jones could not have done otherwise), no such impacts were fatal. Time to look at the next peril. Howitz-Orkum, not put out of action by losing his prosthetic artillery, shook the bladesman Kyu Tam-Hai loose. Tam-Hai's dexterity and reaction speed spared him from severe injury; as soon as he was upright again, he picked up the nearest wounded friendly, and hauled him out of the way of being trampled.

Theda by retrieving dropped guns, Master Kyu retaining his curved broadsaber, and Alabama with his bullwhip, carried on the running fight. The pseudo-Tarkus was impressively hard to kill, even with magic weapons. It moved more slowly than its two slain fellows, but could absorb a lot of punishment. Zaznoba the super-fawn came galloping from the gas-well site, and shared the load by stinging kicks to the monster.

This match was going to go more than one or two rounds.
......................................................

Deuce Wayans had clearly explained to his bride how a Green Flashlight prosthesis worked on universe-juice. Symphony Britt Wayans was a quick learner; by this point, she was able to fly, able to form protective shields, and able to probe into a living body, like an ultrasound scan, without hurting the person scanned.

We come up about even, chronologically, with my previous post.

"You're doing very well, darling: sufficient for many applications. But there's no time for the advance course; we're needed."

Symphony beamed. "I like that 'we.' What's my role now?"

"I'll fly us to the U.C.C.R., directly through the Earth-- which those monsters can do, but you can't yet. Once there, I'll give you the Flashlight to wear. I have enough special equipment that I can still be of use reverting to Street-Bat mode one more time."

"Not bringing Andrew?"

"Not for this. His technopath gift is better suited to cities than to a tundra. But you can form defensive spheres and walls as needed; create a battering ram from hard light to knock any enemy sprawling; even clamp a severed blood vessel shut until the person can receive conventional first aid."

"I love you so much, Deuce. Being part of your mission is the best honeymoon I could want..... and no backstabbing family member can take this away. Just let me go to the bathroom first."
 
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Working its way eastward under the floor of the Atlantic Ocean, Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin found that, from here, it couldn't gather much awareness of how its fellow elemental monsters were faring. There was at least a far-off trace of Howitz-Orkum's life-force, but nothing from Keegapek-Taga. If the wire-sculpture demon was dead, there was no help for it. Might as well pause, to evaluate contingency plans. And if the captive Ladora Greeley kept on choking in powerless terror meanwhile, this was icing on the hellish cake.

The cynical politician who looked like True Earth's Gretchen Whitmer was in a pit of despair; but if all seemed lost, she had nothing to lose by trying prayer again. It was better than screaming herself hoarse.

"God, whatever God might be listening, or even might have an answering machine: please, I'm sorry for scoffing at You. I was an idiot for thinking my looks, my connections, and my echoing the party line made me a permanent aristocrat. I'm sorry I didn't care if citizens were punished for having original thoughts. Please, please, don't fry me in a skillet, and don't make me not exist! I can't bribe You or negotiate with You, but I beg You not to judge me and say 'Guilty!'

"I confess that I laughed at men who believed in You. I seriously despised every story, in books or movies, where women were stupid and wrong, until men on horseback rode to the rescue and corrected all their stupidity. I suppose, if You bother commenting, You'll say that I could have had a great man much sooner. But--but-- if You'll save me and let live and not punish me when I do die, I'll even agree to let a patriarchal man be the leader. I won't complain if you make it a man that saves my life; just please let me live!"
................................................

"Carry the wounded that way!" shouted a tiring Alabama Jones. "And someone hurry up with the fire bombs!" He was referring to an effort by Omskian workers to improvise incendiary charges using propane from the refinery.

Howitz-Orkum was the slowest-moving of the four evil elementals in this plot arc, but also the hardest to kill. It had the least potential for mind control, and until its organic cannons grew back, it would lack any ranged attack form; but it could gradually regenerate non-fatal damage, and eventually its body would resume creating its own ammunition, vaguely like laying eggs. Nothing like rapid fire would be possible, because the elemental's magical aura could not entirely disregard the first law of physics, i.e. the conservation of matter and energy; but the projectiles it produced would hit very hard. Several more human defenders had died, each of the three Mountain Warriors had been hurt in some degree, and the brave Zaznoba had lost a foreleg. One woman from the workers' community contrived a tourniquet for the amputation.

Alabama, as naturally durable as his Original Earth archetype in Steven Spielberg's movies, kept fighting as resolutely as the ancient superheroes were doing. His whip being enchanted didn't make it instant death for mythic monsters, but he slowed Howitz-Orkum down enough that the most vulnerable people and beasts could be led or carried to safety.

Danny bin-Tarik, long since out of bullets, collected rocks, empty guns which had been discarded, and chunks of wood, then threw his improvised projectiles at Howitz-Orkum. Just to help Alabama and others keep it occupied, in the hope that fighter-bombers would soon be able to sortie from their base and begin strafing the fiend.

But the first form of air support was very different from his or even Theda's expectations. A translucent green capsule of sorts emerged from the soil and climbed like a short-takeoff jet. Inside it, two human shapes could just be discerned. The sharp-eyed Chang-Shi was pretty sure that one was his lifelong friend Deuce Wayans (whom he knew to have acquired a Green Flashlight artifact). Not needing to know any more just now, Chang-Shi fired all of his own remaining bullets at the armadillo-shaped behemoth. Catching its attention was all that was required. Now clearly visible, Deuce removed the Flashlight from the back of his hand, and gave it to his bride Symphony to put on. Once she had it working, she restored the protection field around herself and her man.

Deuce hefted what Chang-Shi realized had to be his service pistol with the non-lethal plastic bullets. (All right, Marshal Wayans, I bet no one here will dispute your jurisdiction today!)

Deuce called Chang-Shi's earbud: "Chang! We'll wear down this dragon. You need to stay undistracted. Run off to your right; Fin-Etcetera will be arriving anytime now, and it has a hostage, if she isn't already dead."

Now serving as a Green Flashlight pro tem, Symphony warded off the first new cannon shot from Howitz-Orkum, then created a giant spiked mace from hard light. Prioritizing not letting the monster's organic artillery hit anyone, she fell into a variation on baseball batting practice, and whacked its head in addition to spoiling its shots. She had never accepted an oath absolutely never to kill-- and humans in Omsk Oblast deserved life more than her target did. Alongside the pop diva's actions, Deuce used plastic bullets and flash-bangs to keep the earth-monster confused. This went on long enough so installation laborers could bring up their best-built flammable-propane bomb. At the correct moment, Symphony reconfigured her green energy to make a skillfully shaped wall.......

.....which confined the detonation, so that only Howitz-Orkum absorbed the deadly blast. This, only just in time, before Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin materialized out of the shuddering ground. (You know what? In all these months, I _never_ told you that >my< Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin is derived from Fin Fang Foom in _early_ Marvel Comics.)

Chang-Shi, who enjoyed superb aerobic endurance, sprinted past the just-surfaced Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin, to the side away from the attention- grabbing explosion. While the earth-dragon was looking at the remains of its cousin, Chang-Shi deployed a piece of his own Street-Bat equipment: a climbing-hook launcher. Two of its four tines took a good hold in the monster's flesh-- which Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin didn't even feel. Retraction function pulled him up to the fiend's left shoulder (though Chang-Shi was oblivious to your author's countless mentions of non-deadly left-shoulder wounds).

Still undetected, Chang-Shi detected something in his own right: the dried-out voice of a woman sobbing in terror. This, rising from under a relatively-thin patch of dragon hide.

Not sharing Deuce's reluctance to shed guilty blood, the Chinese-American hero drew his short sword, and began rapidly cutting. When he could pry a great flap of skin upward, he found-- and hastily pulled out-- a wide-eyed, auburn-haired woman. Clinging to him as if she had expected him, she wailed: "You came for me! I'll submit! I'll obey! I'll give you babies if I still can, or we can adopt!!"

Okay, just take my word for it that Chang-Shi got them both to the ground,,,,,, and that he, with others who had their own transceivers, knew to hurry away from the earth-dragon. Foul weather had subsided enough that a squadron of ground-attack jets was coming.
 
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The devilish elementals had all been so fond of insisting that everything was from below, the one survivor now neglected to look for the source of the jet-noise it heard. Neither did its next jab of pain make it any more aware of its chief peril. Hong Er-Sen's latest arrow struck it on the side away from the air force base. Nowhere near enough to kill Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin; but like Meriadoc's enchanted knife piercing the Nazgul King at the Battle of Pelennor Fields and thereby making Eowyn's sword also effective, this arrow rendered Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin fully vulnerable to non-magical weapons. As in, the guided bombs being aimed at it.

Symphony Britt-Wayans had no time to give the Lantern prosthesis back to her husband; but she now justified the confidence which Deuce had placed in her. She in turn held fast to her own confidence that her husband and their friend would know how to survive the bombing. Her part was to form an angled energy shield, as wide in coverage as she could manage. She instinctively held her breath, until......

>>>> Think Tchaikovskiy's 1812 Overture, the part with cannons.

Deuce Wayans, Chang-Shi Kirby, Ladora Greeley, and anybody else I forgot I should mention thereabouts, was alive when the dust and fumes cleared. Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin.... was not. Now, the boastful monster and its fellows had all eternity in which to be mercilessly reminded just how wrong they had been. By contrast, the past-prime-but-not-altogether-washed-up-either pop star experienced an explosion of joy and relief, as her husband ran to her and swept her into a clinch of boundless gratitude.
...................................................

Outside the area of immediate hazard, Nariyana Keskil monitored seismic instruments. There was movement underground, but it was nothing like the former movements of the now-extinct elementals. Whereas Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin and the others had poured themselves through rock and soil, now distinct, solidly-real passages had come into being; and what seemed like human beings were marching along those ways.

Kyu Tam-Hai of the Righteous Mountain Warriors had run all the way to the monitoring shack before Miss Keskil could raise anyone by two-way radio. "Don't be alarmed if you see new signs of movement within the Earth. What you observe is the complete fellowship of mountain heroes. The deaths of the wicked earth-dragons have nullified the curse which prevented them from returning to daylight."

"Umm, they're alive like you now, not ghosts?"

"Flesh and bone, Sister Nariyana. As they awoke, the God of Heaven gave them all a basic idea of what kind of world they were returning to. Women are among them; some are simply wives of Mountain Warriors, also brought forward from the past, several having children revived with them; but five are fully-ranking fighters in their own right. Those five know who you are, Nariyana Keskil, and they wish to meet you: to let a wise woman of this era teach them to live in the future."
......................................................

"Deuce, this is Chang-Shi, safe here, civilian with me out of danger, preparing to talk her down from her scare."

"Chang from Deuce, I copy. Theda safe. Symphony's a champ. Cleanup starting, I'll get back to you later."

The ditch where Shang-Chi's flex-armored body had shielded the exhausted and fear-battered woman underneath him was anticlimactically mucky. Sitting up on its rim as if on a train-station bench, he hoisted her up alongside him, already assured that she had not suffered any serious harm. Apart from the fear, which stuck to her like extra mud. Her muddy arms clasped his neck, while her muddy hair smeared against his mostly-clean hair. Her body was firm enough to attest reasonable fitness habits, if not at a warrior level.

"You saved me, God told me He would send a man to save me, I was stuck inside that sickening thing, I don't know how I could ever believe it was a friend, it laughed at me, it wanted me to die screaming and begging, I promised God I would join the light, I wonder if Washday still thinks it's friendly, do you have a canteen?"

"Let me check. Yeah, still here. Hold still a minute. Let me wash your face first, so you don't swallow any mud." She complied. Once her face was mostly clean, he let her drink two swallows. "All right, pause a moment, then more. Excuse me...." He did a television-worthy double- take, but gave her the promised additional water, then took one swallow for himself, which nearly emptied it. "Are you...... are you THE SECRETARY OF THE INTERIOR? LENORE GREELEY?"

She smiled feebly. "Ladora Greeley, but yes. God sent you to save me, and I'm yours now, all yours forever. Take me. I mean, take me when I don't stink. No other man exists for me anymore. I exist to please you."

"Errr, well, I admit I already thought of you as a major looker; and I know that God does issue specific directions." He paused uneasily.

She clung to him again. "But you're too honest a man to jump in headlong for a woman who serves a dictatorship. I helped to design the micro- managing of America. News flash, miracle: I'm not a collectivist anymore. I'm a new creature in Jesus Christ. And I know that phrase is in the Bible, even though I've never opened a Bible and I never heard anybody quote it. God stuck it into my brain. Please, you've got to believe me! He also told me some here-and-now things, which you can verify when we get back to the States. Things that will pull President Hegel out of his chair."
............................................

When the "Stunner Twins" awakened simultaneously, Gargle's eyes were looking straight into Smiley's eyes at a distance of seven inches.

Both said in perfect unison: "The hate-speakers are coming! We're going to be needed!" Smiley turned on the bedside radio. No less a person than Sybil Dampning, in her capacity as a government shill, was talking in mournful tones:

"....bombed the scene, like fanatical zealots for the madness of war. Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin died bravely defending workers against the mercenaries of the greedy business corporations. President Hegel calls upon our friends in Beijing to disavow the Chinese Nazis who are stirring up trouble, pretending to be time travelers from the medieval Sung Dynasty.

"Meanwhile, Interior Secretary Ladora Greeley appears to have been kidnaped. The White House warns Americans of the possibility that someone disguised as Secretary Greeley may access unauthorized media, in order to make false accusations against our heroic President."

"This," whispered Gargle, "may be precisely what Mother Universe wants us to counteract. It's time to become Lady Gargoyle and Mighty Virus!"
......................................................

But someone was already ahead of them, and they didn't know to aim their confusion power at him.

Andrew Dean Richardson, the technopath, had been continuously monitoring secure communications networks used by the Hegel regime. His hacking ability had enabled him to counterfeit high-grade transit access for himself and his own lately-wedded wife.

"Where do you plan to strike?" Cassina Dragglehaira Richardson whispered, aware that her husband was blanking out the surveillance microphones which would otherwise have painted big targets on them.

"At a hidden facility I've identified. I can get us inside without opposition. It contains information about extensive abuses of power, SO despicable that even citizens who have stayed in line up till this point, will be ready to support an impeachment."

Between trains, they picked up Beatrice Wayans, whom they had covertly invited to be in on the non-violent overthrow. When they reached the hidden archive location, Deuce's mother would assist them. Little though she loved her sons, she intensely loved retaining her privileges.
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Washday Anagram and Maxie Viva were watching television-- which, like the B.B.C. in True Earth's England, had four theme-based channels-- when all channels were pre-empted by Beatrice Wayans, her face unpainted for once.....
 
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"Attention, all citizens and lawful residents of the United States! I am Beatrice Wayans, proud mother of a morally upright rancher and a United States Marshal. What I am putting out on the airwaves is being packeted, with a rotation between channels, so that as much truth as possible will reach the public before anyone can shut it down.

"I am compelled to say that I regret the social-climbing relationship which I sought, and relished, with President Mark Hegel. I invested my family's prestige in this President's image. However, I have learned that he doesn't value anyone but himself. When several Americans, myself included, began to feel doubts about the APPARENT friendliness of the mysterious creature Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin, Mister Hegel made every attempt to imply that the earth-dragon's activity ensured the non-violence of the Earth as a whole. At the same time, less conspicuously, his off-the-record operatives labored to prevent the exposure of his malfeasance. Dozens of honest civil servants were made scapegoats for a long series of illegal actions by the administration. Information I am releasing includes the secret money-laundering accounts he has in Peru and Indonesia. Even my own charitable foundation became a conduit for illegal transfers.

"To my shame, I looked the other way, until I learned in fragments that Hegel was USING Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin to get rid of someone who knew too much. This was Ladora Greeley: disposable, even though she had been one of his lovers. No thanks to me, Ladora was rescued by Shang-Chi Kirby, a stalwart friend of my family, who also played a role in defeating the destructive earth elementals in Siberia. The Russian Air Force jets which have been mentioned by deceived or controlled journalists, were actually SAVING human lives when they bombed Fin-Zin-Chin-Pin.

"Let everyone cross-check my testimony, but LISTEN: the highest-ranking person whom I definitely know NOT to be a party to Hegel's crimes is Ladora herself. You will soon be hearing what she went through, plus audio of Hegel expressing delight at the prospect of her elimination. Agents of the Secret Service, of the Treasury Department, and of the military intelligence community, can verify much of the data I am providing. Note that the Treasury Secretary has unaccountably gone incommunicado. Be advised that the United States Marshals' Service received the same news earlier, and has pledged to protect Ladora and me from being 'disappeared.' The state police forces of the various states, one after another, are calling the Marshals' Service, pledging NOT to consent to any federal action to silence me.

"I enjoy no governmental status apart from running my 'Be The Change' foundation. But I can tell you that, as far as I know, of all official persons who are definitely unstained by the present scandal, Ladora is the MOST HIGHLY placed in the Presidential succession."
..............................................

The next game-changer was on its way.

Before dawn in Siberia, Gerkul had passed a gist of the news Mister Nariyana had picked up from America. The victors of the battle against earth-monsters had hastily considered what to do. Delivering Ladora, the vital witness, was priority one; and, being best able to coax hypersonic speed from the Flashlight prosthesis, Deuce had to be the delivery pilot. Chang-Shi was moral support for Ladora. And, flying to a version of America where feminism was almost as entrenched as on Original Earth, Deuce and Chang-Shi both realized that a woman could supply additional moral authority. Specifically, a woman who embodied the just-gained victory over eldritch evil.

Symphony, waiting in Omsk, would have Theda, Alabama and Miss Keskil for company.

The fourth traveler was the senior of the female Mountain Warriors. Her surname was Tak; and as a courtesy to whomever she would meet in the U.S.A., she would offer the meaning of her individual name. She would be called Subtle Python Tak. Her melee weapon of choice was the Chinese equivalent of a rapier.

"Master Wei-Ahn-Sa, should I leave my sword behind?"

"A good thought, but no, bring it. Where we go now, people often tell each other that women are pitiful slaves, always abused and helpless. This is a lie; but everyone who favors the lie, will behold you as a miracle. As the only member of our deputation to go armed, you will give us credibility in an uncertain situation. Ready to fly?" Subtle Python gasped slightly when the Eurasian landmass fell away below them, but kept her nerve. It was no worse than centuries of random dreams deep underground. And furthering her acquaintance with "tek-nol-jee" promised to be a huge adventure.
.....................................................

There was a standoff at the White House now, poorly understood even by the Capital Police who were obediently shielding Mark S. Hegel from accountability. Washday Anagram, her Uncle Jester, and her singer friend Maxie Viva had come to Washington, and were now as close to the barricade as they could get. "Best that we speak only if spoken to," Jester muttered to the young women. "But if questioned by Sybil, say whatever you think best." Jester was referring to the goth-styled Sybil Dampning, a veteran of partisan stage plays, who has lately been shown to have become a reporter, and who was covering the ambiguous crisis.

Andrew Dean Richardson the technopath was also on the scene. He was not famous, and his power didn't create any visible flashes to attract attention, so he could use it here with impunity. He had already been tweaking communication forms to broaden the spread of news. Landline phones, adding machines, and walkie-talkies around much of the eastern U.S.A., were picking up the data being disclosed, even being changed from print to voice where this was called for . Once satisfied that this was proceeding as he desired, he indulged in contacting the landline telephone at Cassina's present living quarters in Limon. The West was not as thoroughly affected by Andrew's intervention (demonstrating that his influence was reduced by over-the-horizon distances), but some disclosures were getting through in places.

"Andy darling!" Cassina Dragglehaira Richardson answered. "Half of the high-plains TV and radio stations are being interrupted with reports about offshore accounts opened by President Hegel! You did that, didn't you?"

"I plead the Fourth Amendment," replied the machinery-wizard. (This version of the U.S.A. had the Bill of Rights, only the Fourth and Fifth Amendments were switched around from where they are in our world.)

"Anyway, things are stirred up out here. The President's imaginary mobs of alt-right thugs have alarmed enough people, that Chandelle Rune made it an excuse to claim fear of public disturbances at the resort. She'll be crashing here with me for several days, and she's good company. Ben found a male band to take her place over a four-day interval. Have you heard of Tom Penny and the Backbreakers?"

"Didn't they record 'Learning to Glide' and 'Jogging through a Dream'?"

"Yes, they did. Everyone who knows Tom Penny is glad he survived that accidental mistake with his prescriptions. Anyway, Chandelle hanging around makes me safer, 'cause no one wants to pick a fight with Alvin. Tomazo, the Brazilian fighter, also checked on us last night: with his wife and their children, to prove it was all innocent."

During all this, the Stunner Twins kept a low profile, judging the situation to be over their heads.
.......................................................

In Washington, a translucent green globe descended close to where Sybil Dampning stood. Four human silhouettes rode inside it. The tallest emerged into clear visibility as soon as the globe landed, and was recognized as Marshal Deuce Wayans, formerly Street Bat.

"Don't be afraid, ladies and gentlemen. Although answers to your questions will take time to flesh out, I give you my word that this poorly-understood state of emergency is almost resolved. Let me introduce my new friend, who is able to be here because the worst is already over. You may call her Subtle Python Tak. When she speaks, you will be able to understand her intent, even though microphones may hear it as medieval Chinese." Glancing behind him, he beckoned, and the mountain swordswoman stepped into view.
 
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"I invite Miss Tak to talk. Make no mistake, Miss Tak has plenty to report." Only after uttering these words did Marshal Wayans wince at them. But Subtle Python Tak was unrattled. When she began talking, the assembled Americans understood her meaning; but those nearest to her could see that her mouth movements were out of sync, as if in an English-dubbed foreign movie.

"Dwellers in what is the remote future to me, I find that I am plunged into a drama nearly as momentous as the downfall of the wicked earth-dragons. In the Chong-Kwa that I remember, when an emperor transgressed against Heaven, he would lose his mandate to reign. I see that your unjust emperor is now as one caught in public with no clothes on. Mark Hegel chose to regard living persons as toys to be kicked this way and that, according to his moods. He went so far as to ordain that a certain Western woman should meet a frightful demise-- because she had become inconvenient to him. But she was saved by a sworn friend of Master Deuce, and they require a reckoning."

Not letting it be obvious that he was controlling it, Deuce faded out the obscuring force field. There stood Chang-Shi and Ladora: neither of them spruced up for cameras, but both of them holding each other tightly. Not caring who saw her kissing the tender-hearted tough guy, the naturally beautiful Cabinet member sought out Sybil Dampning because Sybil had the first microphone Ladora saw.

"TO EVERYONE WHO CAN HEAR ME: I ACCUSE MARK HEGEL OF TRYING TO KILL ME WITHOUT A TRACE!"

Right then, if confused shouting were lethal, the environs of the White House would have been festooned with fresh corpses. Letting his Marshal badge be seen but not brandishing a weapon (least of all activating his Flashlight artifact), Deuce hurried into the nearest clump of wavering Capital Police officers. "Have any of you patrolled the Life Avenues?" he shouted rhetorically. "Witnessed self-criticism sessions? Common people being forced to grovel? Do you want to keep that going? Where's your watch commander?" The officers looked at him, perceiving his moral integrity more distinctly than his rumor-fogged exploits as Street-Bat.

Chang-Shi and Subtle Python stuck by Ladora, determined to keep away anyone who might even now try to silence her as a witness. No assigned hit man came after the emotionally-frayed Minnesotan woman; but an absurd anticlimax did occur. Washday Anagram, not letting her uncle restrain her, dashed at Ladora while yelling naughty words. Miss Tak simply knocked her unconscious with the flat of her sword.

Capitulation was bloodless. Deuce's fellow Marshals frog-marched Mark Hegel out of the White House he had dishonored. His trousers were soaked with nitrogenous fluid waste. Dismissing her would-be murderer from thought, Ladora Greeley thanked Subtle Python Tak for the intercept, then kissed Shang-Chi fervently. "Please please tell me that you meant it about marrying me after the token cool-off period!"

The reserve alternate Street-Bat held her, caressed her, and replied: "Even if I didn't already want you, there's my sister. She's firm that Jesus HAS made you a new creature, and she doesn't want me staying a bachelor after she marries Alabama Jones. Turning to Subtle Python: "We'll want you as an attendant for Ladora."

Their wedding would happen, but the date would be postponed by almost a week. Congress, the Supreme Court, the military chiefs of staff and opportunistic journalists had nothing against Ladora getting married to a hero, but were insisting that she first assume the post of Acting President.

Back west in Limon, Colorado, Lady Gargle and Smiley Virus brainstormed what their course of action would be going forward. They knew that anyone who could be loved by a member of Marshal Wayans' inner circle, would NEVER persecute them for insulting her, even if they flat-out lied. So the Stunner Twins could libel and slander President Greeley-Kirby to their hearts' content, and pretend that they were valiantly speaking truth to power.

 
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%%%%%%% Setting up a Chicago interlude. %%%%%%%

On one of the laptops made available at the shelter, Willie and Saffron were perusing men's-issue videos on YouTube.

"Have you noticed," Saffron remarked, "how people in these cheating stories all do the exact same things? Dance barefoot in the kitchen, say 'Just the two of us,' feel as if they got punched in the gut, buy takeout from Thai restaurants, take screenshots, wear yoga pants, grab coffee, light candles, talk about rough patches, hide their phones, roll their eyes, et cetera?"

Willie nodded. "Sure, more than half of the stories are generated by A/I's. But I know a few channels that are genuine. What really bothers me is one particular channel called 'Flux Tales.' The betrayed husband in those videos always goes overboard with revenge, everything short of killing the unfaithful wife by slow torture. Mister Carranza is nothing like that; everybody knows he's not even slightly at fault for the separation, but he's still giving Mrs. Carranza time, and a fair chance, to make things right and win him back."

Saffron shrugged. "Okay, anything else of interest going on?"

"Yes. Copperfox messaged me that he got acquainted with an auto mechanic in the Denver area. He told the mechanic about The Dancing Lawn and its creative-writing space. Turns out, the mechanic is writing a story about a hero he calls "Emulis," who is able to acquire other people's abilities. Copperfox hopes the guy will post the new story in the Writing Club."
 
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The very first hero to be seen in "Spacebullies Two," my version of the "Space-BALLS" character Lone Starr, has valid connections to no fewer than THREE distinct story-zones. Therefore, he's now going to pass consecutively through several different chapters, most likely remaining onstage ALL the way through the next twenty-post page.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

PLANET SRIRACHISS (equivalent of Arrakis):

With the H _not_ silent: "A Habanero Monster does not consider itself as having a distinct back, belly and sides. It doesn't care which part is upward at a given time. That's why it rolls when you irritate one spot on its exterior, which helps the first rider to gain a position on top. The following riders can set their hooks in a way much less troublesome to the creature, so no rider gets dumped off by the added riders coming on board."

Chief Sleevecard was teaching several dozen persons, not native to Srirachiss, how to ride on my story's counterparts of the sandworms in Frank Herbert's books. Groan Starr, standing beside his mother Jazzica, was telling her about his and Vixen's latest adventures while they observed the remarkable riding lesson.

"Vixen and I got a wonderful dose of sweetness from witnessing that love story, Steve Roughroad and Marcie Graze finding each other. Just like Dark Headgear, or like Haxxadoff the Naughtygator, Marcie found genuine redemption." {{There are other conversion stories from Seedubb Earth. one of which I want to bring up: the metahuman villainess Chilly Frost. Her conversion included her freeze-power no longer being continuous, but active only when she wanted it. Being now on the side of good one way or another, Chilly had plenty to offer to an overheated planet.}}

"Hector von Bootblack has been in touch; he plans to transport Chilly here, available for appropriate services as you might request."

Not far away, Bunkem Isotope the Goulash-cloned Mentalcat-- husband to Trala-Lalia, brother in-in-law to Groaner, son-in-law to Jazzica, and uncle to Emperor Stillneater the Incorruptible-- was lecturing a multitude of younglings, both sexes and several races, about intellectual advancement. "The Mentalcat enhancement is not dependent on The Jalapeno, nor on your sex, nor on your ancestry. If you can think, you can learn to think more clearly; and if you think more clearly, then you can learn to think faster. So, let's find instances of being clear about a subject.

"You there--" {beckoning toward a female Kashorcheckian, the same species as Groaner's hairy comrade Puke} "--can you tell us why there should be more than one way to talk about past events?"

"Because the past goes back a long way. If I speak about something which happened yesterday, I might also want to mention something from the day before yesterday. A close past, and a farther past."

Bunkem gave her a perfect Jason Momoa smile. "Very good! Seeing patterns. Now you, the blonde human girl: why does a foot-wide circle contain more space than a foot-wide square?"

"Because if you superimpose the circle on the square, the circle will curve inside the square, and the corners of the square extend beyond the circle."

"Perfect! Now the big-shouldered boy. What's the difference between the speed of electromagnetic energy--including visible light-- and its frequency?"

"All electromagnetic waves travel across distance at the same speed; but while they travel, some waves shake up and down faster than others do. There's a wide range of radio frequencies which all vibrate slower than light does."

"On target! You've illustrated that one factor might change while another factor doesn't. Every Mentalcat learns to recognize distinctions like these."

While Bunkem continued the class, Groaner asked his mother: "Is the roster complete for your all-women expedition to Verywayremota?"

"Every woman on the trip will be one who possesses Jalapeno-based powers. Obviously this includes me, Trala, Gladiola, and Princess Eerilake. A fifth has joined us, the liberated slave Soopernumera."

"I don't remember her."

"She's one of the slave women liberated from Planet Greedy Crime four years ago. She married Chip Thursday. a law enforcer in Kansas on Seedubb Earth. He consented to her joining us for this expedition, because for SO long she had no freedom to travel. He's glad to let her stretch her wings on her own, while having strong protectors with her, and she loves him all the more for encouraging her to do this."

Vixen asked Jazzica, "What IS Verywayremota?"

"It's a change to archives. Until recently, ____(Copperfox forgets what he called it)____ was the remotest known planet ever to have been part of the former Galactic Empire. But probing the data storage of some captured evil robots revealed an even-farther-away inhabitable planet, thus Verywayremota. So our tame Naughtygators will drop us off to check it out."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=------>> SINCE WE'RE FOLLOWING GROAN STARR, JAZZICA & COMPANY WILL EXIT STAGE RIGHT FOR NOW.

I'm pretty sure Puke was onstage here, so he helped to pilot their non-Jalapeno-dependent starship to another planet of interest. This planet was the last known location of a troll-type semi-humanoid called Eetbeenzar, whose vaporous discharges affected others like tear gas, and who hasn't been around for many chapters. Groan Starr, Vixen and Puke approached him with breathing masks on, while Vixen and Puke had guns in hand.

Groaner used The Chatter, usually the exclusive property of women: "You will not try to release your fumes against us. We can shoot you dead if necessary, but we would rather bring you over to the up-side, as has been done for creatures worse than you are. We have a potion which, without harming you, will neutralize your irritant vapors. In view of your immense physical strength, you will not become defenseless by this; but when you join us in the cause of decency, no one alongside you will need breathing protection."

Right then, the good wizard Hector von Bootblack appeared close by. "Welcome to the side of goodness, Eetbeenzar. You and your new friends have a worthy task awaiting you. I shall describe your far-off destination, and the situation you will face. When you arrive there, you soon will find out how the present activity of Lady Jazzica's party relates to your coming."
 
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Jazzica, Trala-Lalia, Gladiola, Eerilake and Soopernumera landed eight miles from the most interesting object their sensors had picked up. It was like a decorative metal sculpture designed for a city center, fifteen feet high, with one face recessed, as if some larger-than-human person might accept the discomfort of sitting there, for the sake of the dignity it apparently afforded.

At one exact instant, Jazzica looked at Trala, Trala looked at Gladiola, Gladiola looked at Eerilake, Eerilake looked at Soopernumera, Soopernumera looked back at Jazzica, and all of them said: "That thing belongs to the genocidal robots!"

Trala-Lalia sent her flying spoon toward the sculpture; the mouth-end tapped a spot where a seated creature's back would lean. As soon as the spoon withdrew, a robot of size proportionate to the seat materialized. The five Jalapeno-powered women scattered, all drawing guns and opening fire at the murderous machine. But the automaton, instead of reacting, slapped the armrests-- and then both sculpture and robot vanished.

While they stared, Hector von Bootblack beamed down in front of them.

"Friends, I have come from speaking with Groan Starr, Vixen and Puke. A freshly-tamed monster, akin to the infamous Plasstar, is joining them on a mission to the Third Galaxy. I've just now teleported them, not to the supra-terrestroid planet which has been receiving most of the attention out there, but to one of the very few clear Earth-variants in that galaxy. Evil aliens who meddle with sequential time caused the sun of that world to grow dim. The consequent loss of warmth is being remedied; but evil robots called Bazonkers, who are essentially the same as the evil robots who made the Rootbeerian Crusade necessary, are seeking to kill all humans who don't become like robots........

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

"Does anyone else here still have symptoms?" Doctor Kirk Slippage asked the village headman of Claypit Bend.

"None since yesterday, High Spirit bless you."

"Then, time for a different matter. Have Neesheedors troubled your valley since Welbymark was here?"

"No.... probably none even a day's hike farther out, since the other mighty swordsman was in the region." Doc Slippage, who wore the magic sword once owned by the villain Deathstink, knew that this was referring to the former executioner who was the planet's one indigenous superhero. But they wouldn't be getting together just now; Astrosmeller of Jumpstard was due momentarily to bring the warrior-surgeon back to Redundantworld, and send Bryce Donner here instead.

Stradivarian, bearer of the Hagensaber, was camped with his courageous bride Gasfilla, in a spot with good concealment. The recovery of Deteriorating Earth --more accurately, the recovery of its unnaturally- dimmed sun-- had made it mid-spring. Their horses were in splendid condition, thanks to the renewal of edible vegetation. They knew who and what Bryce Donner from Earth-Whichever was.

"I hope he has the courtesy not to be in the shape of Gray Grump when he first joins us," Gasfilla said. "Our horses have never smelled him in that guise. Worse than Bazonkers, which they at least have smelled before."

The idea was academic. Bryce appeared in his regular shape, and five others also appeared off to one side. One of the latter looked seriously scary; but Hector von Bootblack's magic was preventing the horses from spooking.

The good wizard made introductions: "The hairy one is called Puke. The really large one is Eetbeenzar. This is Prince Groan Starr Ashtrayides, and this is his wife Princess Vixen. They bring intel about the Bazonkers."

"My mother, my sister and my niece," reported Groaner, "are on a world in the Milky Way Galaxy, where they have discovered something of blow-up-the-Death-Star importance. The birth-source of evil robots plans to teleport a majorly villainous evil robot here, to magnify the lethal capabilities of every Bazonker. This Uber-Bazonker will sit on an artifact called The Bazonker Throne."

"And this will be where?" asked Stradivarian.

Hector von Bootblack provided the answer: "North by northeast. Actually, the master droid and its furniture arrived there the day before the day before yesterday. But precisely because the evil Everperpetualists previously interfered with sequential time on this Earth, it will be easy-peasy for ME to do a bit of meddling in your favor." The good wizard's helmet blazed with light. A moment later, they were in the same spot, but the weather was conspicuously different.

"It is now four days before the King Bazonker arrives. You will now have time to get there-- with the reinforcements we will provide."

"What reinforcements?" asked Gasfilla.

"Our Jumpstardean friend Astrosmeller is delivering Bryce Donner, in his form as Gray Grump; and I shall add the flame-using hero Atomic Scalp with his fighter wife, the astronaut Ululani Atuf-Alpert."

The guardian of storyline integrity vanished, and the three new helpers appeared in his place, already knowing the situation.
 
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( DISREGARD ACCIDENTAL CHANGE OF TYPE FONT. STILL THE SAME CHAPTER ! )

Eetbeenzar had actually discovered a sense of humor. Looking at the large, hairless Martin "Atomic Scalp" Alpert, the ogre quipped, "Finally, someone's here who looks normal!" Ululani, who had been granted reasonable super-strength, graciously joined in: "Good to meet you, Mister Zar; maybe you can be my husband's golfing teammate when this job's completed."

Bryce now switched back to regular human shape, as a token that it was planning time. "I know that Atomic Scalp can fly, though not very fast; and as the Grump, I can cover distance by long leaps. Let him and me scout ahead on either side, while the rest of you proceed toward the expected threat area by the best route you find. Having guns, the Hagensaber, Eetbeenzar's physical strength, and Groan Starr's Jalapeno-based speed for short distances, you should be all right when we converge."
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The King Bazonker, bigger than a grizzly bear on True Earth, had gathered fifty-eight regular Bazonkers, two hundred thirty-three flesh-and-blood Neesheenors, and forty-one Chipotli battle-bots repurposed from the downfallen Empire of Evil Badness in the First Galaxy. The subordinate robots waited silently while their director addressed the human converts.

"Promising flesh-bots, only one test remains before some of you are certified as worthy to receive prosthetic accessories, and be officially designated as true Bazonker units in the inexorable tide of cleansing. This is not required of you Chipotli; during what follows, you shall ensure compliance.

"Flesh-bots, pay close attention to this input. Shut your eyes. I will count to three, then say 'Begin.' When I say this, each of you will reopen your eyes, then physically attack whichever person you see first. You will kill that person if you can. There must be no hesitation, no preference, no recollection of relationship; ALL of you must battle each other to the death. Not merely injure, make sure of death. At the instant I say 'Stop,' you will stop. Any damaged human unit which has not died, may at this time be given aid to survive.

"Chipotli, verify all eyes closed....... One, two, three, BEGIN!!"

Exactly when the robot leader said "One," a man, a woman and a teenage girl opened their eyes early, and the females grabbed the hands of two school-age boys. The man-- clearly the husband and father-- hefted a sledgehammer, and ran cover as his family fled.

The good guys weren't good guys for nothing. Gasfilla, Vixen, Puke and Ululani opened fire at whichever droids appeared to be going after the defectors. The father of the escaping family damaged two Chipotli with his hammer, before two others tore him in half. All the other Neesheenors ignored this by-play, still obediently battering and strangling each other. Groan Starr and Eetbeenzar charged downhill on foot; Groaner used The Chatter to tell people to quit fighting, and those who heard him did quit fighting. Eetbeenzar smashed Chipotli robots as he went, while Gray Grump and Atomic Scalp descended into an all-Bazonker crowd. Thud, crunch, boom, screech of torn metal, whack, stomp, and plenty of burning where Martin could blast robots without burning non-hostiles.....

The King Bazonker's internal flow-chart concluded that this was not a time to keep its half-dozen clawed hands clean. Realizing the significance of the Hagensaber, it slid off its throne, landed on its feet, and charged at Stradivarian.

A flesh-and-blood man, facing such a monstrosity, had no cause to be ashamed of needing magical assistance. From whatever direction the evil robot leader struck, the Hagensaber darted to deflect that stroke and the next stroke and the one after that. Stradivarian was an executioner once more, inflicting unquestionable justice on a product of unspeakable wickedness. Though inflicting wounds on the hero, the primary evil robot fell at last. When it fell, all still-functioning Bazonkers became immobile.

Scientist Bryce Donner understood that, given adequate precautions-- like, say, Asimov's Laws of Robotics-- the fixable robots could be given a make-over, so they would become a benefit to this Earth-variant. >NOT< the King Bazonker; it was to be melted down, with no memory storage retained.

Meanwhile, it being discovered that Eetbeenzar had perished while protecting younger Neesheenors from being killed by adult ones, a hero's funeral was improvised for him, and for Kelzo Fladd, the man who had died saving his family. The deactivated Throne would become the monument of their sacrifice; and in years to come, dozens of male babies would be named Kelzo or Eetbeenzar.

In days to come, no less a personage than Dragon Equivvalentor, now free to come and go since no longer needed to keep an eye on the late and un- mourned Lowblow, came over to Formerly-Deteriorating Earth to help set things in order. (The natives of this planet would simply regard it as "Earth," since no other version of Earth existed in its cosmic neighborhood.) Princess Vixen taught Stradivarian and Gasfilla some of the niceties of running a royal court; and, their native land being the South America of this Earth, they became the King and Queen of South America. Hardly anyone on the continent had any objection to the new administration-- especially after the royal couple began recruiting people from various regions to serve as their advisers, and as intercessors for the needs of commoners.

Equivvalentor also saw to it that Groan Starr and party would be transported to where they next wanted to be-- which was to join Groaner's relatives on Planet Verywayremota, there to tell them how the Third Galaxy adventure had turned out. Not Bryce Donner, though; some Redundantworlders who knew him, urgently desired his combination of brains and brawn to assist with a major construction project.
 
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Embracing his mother, Groaner asked, "Have you found anything remarkable while Vixen and I were away?"

"Eerilake did: something that's appropriate to exist on an outlying world."

Puke the Kashorcheckian suddenly ventured a guess, because he happened to remember what was Eerilake's distinctive area of scientific expertise. Looking straight at the Calamari princess: "Did you discover another Starhatch?"

"So I did. Like the portal which Backy Shedd from Terra helped to examine, this one has the feature of being able to connect with a place which has no receiving Starhatch. As for where it leads, Jazzica's, Gladiola's and Trala-Lalia's Jalapeno intuition concurs with my own impression. This portal gives entry to a sub-universe which claims as long a history as our own. A reality where the human race, along with allied races, was threatened with genocide: not by robots, but by flesh-and-blood enemies who enjoyed superior technology, and mankind with its friends only survived because of cunning tactics which the routine-bound aggressors couldn't foresee."

It clearly HAS been quite a while since I updated my BIG revision of the Halo game premise. It was a whopping change from the start that I allowed OTHER sapient races to exist and be allied with humanity. But later, on a narrow yet profound scale, I pulled off what I really wanted: letting my version of the A/I Cortana do a Pinocchio, becoming sufficiently human that she could MARRY my version of the Master Chief, and contrive, sort of, to make a baby with him. (She is part of her son by downloading some of her knowledge to him.) However, what with jumping as far afield as the He-Man / She-Ra storyverse, it appears that I forgot to give a NAME to their single-source clone-born son. \\ But since the Heyhoverse is part of Groan Starr's rambling itinerary, now's the time to name the kid, before Groaner continues touring story-realities and I forget writing this post. A parent-related name comes to mind, with a first name acknowledging his mother Cortexa, and a surname which tags the son of the Master Champ. He is TEX MASTERSON.

Dragon Equivvalentor had informed Groan Starr, Vixen Starr, Puke, Jazzica, Trala-Lalia, Gladiola, Eerilake and Soopernumera where the Verywayremotan Starhatch would place them: in the planetary capital of Stretch. The Dragon of Reasonableness added a detail: "I have already appeared in a dream to a female soldier who is based there; she will know what she has to tell you. After you deal with what you are meant to encounter. a formidable good-aligned human couple, up-siders of The Fuss, will meet you. They can transport you to the next adventure."

When Groaner and the rest "beamed down" in the government seat of Doyo Jogtip, they beheld a very good-looking uniformed woman, with a sniper's rifle slung on her back. Beside her, looking unstartled by the teleportation arrival, was a man carrying an acoustic guitar and wearing a wide-brimmed hat. The woman, while greeting all of the visitors, was looking at Puke.

"Sir, are you a Yettisquatch?"

"No, miss, I'm a Kashorcheckian. We do know a little bit about your civilization."

"I'm Lynette-624 of the Crackshots. A good-aligned immortal demigod in reptilian form says you people can help tie up a loose end for us. I know that you know there are multiple versions of Earth, all equally real. My stepfather here, known as New Stevie Ray Vaughn, cured my mother of a mental disorder. The syndrome was caused by the micro-drones of 'Mister Tectonic,' a sociopath who did harm to our society. He caused numerous people, even my super-genius mother, to imagine that they were characters in computer-generated stories."

"My own mental powers," said Groan Starr to the blues bard, "tell me that you are shielded from those delusions, but the source of the hallucinations has grown more subtle, harder to pin down. However, the ladies with me--" (he didn't bother explaining that Vixen was an exception) "--can sense that the situation has become less orderly, and harder to diagnose."

The guitarist replied: "Doctor Carolyn Vaughn, born Carolyn Fallacy-- that's right, she fell madly in love with me because my blues music overpowered the micro-drones harassing her brain-- invented almost everything on Planet Stretch; but her emotional starvation made her an easy mark for Tyrone Glass Nielsen. The Fuss user Zubdookree, who enjoys connections with the far-seeing Master Drool of the Bubblewrap Five coalition, reports that Nielsen overreached himself, trying to defeat the lawful-good Sorcery Lass. He is now her prisoner, unable to continue his mischief. But enough of his {{naughty word}} T-Sneers are still drifting around, that the daily lives of random people are getting mixed up."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Shovorzi-802 of the Galactic Marines, one of the very human-like Plethmors, was being brain-scrambled in her quarters.

When I saw my grandfather, and he addressed me as Mother, I replied with fifty words: "Hi, kid, ready to eat breakfast?" He replied, "I'd rather die than eat with you," then helped himself to some fapku eggs and threw the rest at the version of me which had prepared breakfast. But I was now the version of me that had three arms, so my extra hand caught the veshamik jerky he had thrown......."

One of the privates under Shovorzi's command recognized the signs of her zoning out, and reported the latest case of rogue T-Sneers. Within half an hour, New Stevie was there, singing the micro-monsters out of her as Groan Starr looked on. The blues bard reacting to the call as soon as it reached him was noticed by two others on the side of good. These were Up-Side Fuss Master Only-One Kanoli, and his formerly-evil wife, the naturally-bald but otherwise-human Massage Breathless Kanoli. When the latter two caught up with Groaner, Only-One said, "Jalapeno master, Massage and I can more clearly sense the lingering evil, but you are better at forcing obedience."

Catching his meaning, Groan Starr commanded: "If any awareness exists in you micro-drones, I command you to gather here and then deactivate yourselves!" Stevie had drawn the things out, but they were in the air, as if hoping for a chance to re-enter Shovorzi's head. They became visible as they fell on the floor like sand grains at Groaner's feet, now completely inert.
 
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