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Prologue 1
The Jungle Planetoid of Simballa, 2995

"Grife, it's hot!"

"Stop complaining Pluto," said Tab, "you have it easy. You get to wear a comfortable loincloth. I have to wear this silly safari outfit and this bloody eye patch!"

Big Scott had to admit that Tab looked hot in his Otto Orion clothes. His cousin was one sexy bastard no matter what he was wearing. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead and stung his eye. "Bloody Nass! This fur kilt is no picnic, either!"

"I thought Takron-Galtos was bad but at least there you can wear a tran-suit to protect you from the cold. This steamy jungle planetoid sucks! Why did we ever let Nura talk us into coming to Simballa?"

"When the High Seer of Naltor makes a request, you don't turn her down. Now shut up while I finish taking these holo-vids!" Proty II was unfazed by the heat. His race of Antarean shape-shifters had mutated to withstand climatic extremes. "Though I don't understand what possessed Dream Girl to send her three top advisors around the galaxy posing as the Legion's villains for this archives project. I think she's getting a little plump between the ears!"

Tab groaned. "And next, we're off to the Super-Stalag of Space wearing those rubber Nardo suits. The sooner this whole project is over the better!"

"I still can't believe I let you shave my entire body for this tableau of hers! At least you two only had to shave your heads!" Pluto readjusted his purple loincloth, but the heat was making his large cock swell and the small loincloth couldn't contain it.

"Just one more holo-vid and we're done. Tab, go stand next to the totem pole. Scott, you and Pluto go grovel at his feet."

Tab leaned against the ancient artifact. Suddenly the head of the totem fell to his feet, narrowly missing Scott, who picked it up. Like most artifacts on Simballa, it seemed a strange mix of science and primitive magic. As if on cue, the first crack of the afternoon thunderstorm boomed across the sky.

"OK, boys, that's enough for today. We better get off this sacrificial mountain before the storm hits."

"Last one to the Time Bubble is rotten diskhead!"

Both Scott and Pluto started racing down the path, with Tab right behind them. Proty gathered his holo-cameras and transformed into a flying wing. In his aerial form, he easily beat the three Naltorians to the bubble. By the time they got there the rain had begun and all three were soaking wet. Scott put down the totem head, and stripped off his purple tank top.

Tab examined the strange artifact. "This is a pretty strange looking widget," he said.

Proty busied himself putting away his gear. He closed the door of the time bubble, as the rain was falling almost horizontally in the storm. Already, there was water all over the floor of the vehicle. "And why did Nura Nal insist that we use these dangerous old time bubbles? It's not like we are traveling in time for this project. What has that crafty witch got up her sleeveless dress this time?" Proty kept these thoughts to himself. Two of the Naltorians, Scott and Pluto, were fooling around again. As near as Proty could tell, they were in heat all day long. One of them was reaching up the other's kilt, but they looked so much alike that Proty had given up trying to tell them apart, especially now that they had both shaved their heads for the current masquerade. Tab was still examining the widget.

"I've got a feeling I've dreamed something about this moment," said the High Seer's top advisor. "This widget is bad news."

Scott and Pluto, who didn't look anything like the chief agricultural advisors of Naltor, paid no attention to him. Their groping had turned into a wrestling match. They fell against Tab, who dropped the widget right onto the control panel of the time bubble, smashing one of the crystalline controls. As the bubble began to dematerialize, the widget eyes began to glow.

"I knew that was going to happen," said Pluto.


Prologue 2
Menegroth, FA 505

"Ah, Tinwe," Melian sighed as she nuzzled against her husband.

The Elven-King smiled at the use of her old lover's name for him, Tinwe Linto, Star Light. Five hundred years and five had passed since the first rising of the Sun and Moon, and three long ages of the Stars before that, and still he loved his Queen. They had both been caught in the spell that had bound them together beneath the stars in the forest of Nelderoth. She was the only one who called him Tinwe these days. Even amongst the immortal Elves, language and customs change, and his people called him Elwe Singollo, or Elu Thingol in the common Sindarin tongue, King Greycloak. But here, in his wife's bed, he was Tinwe, her Star.

"Yes, my Queen, what is your desire?"

"That this night would not end, and that from this bed you would not stray, but I know that is not to be. Humor an old woman, and show me the stamina of the Firstborn!"

"The last is easily done," the King replied, and in truth he was ready to enter her again. Elves do not age as men and though Tinwe was several thousand years old, his manhood still firm and erect. He plunged his staff deep into his wife's secret vault. Their lovemaking was as passionate as it had been when the world was young, and when it was over, they held each other close, and Tinwe slept. Melian was wise, and she was of the Maia. She knew much of what was to be. If she grieved that night, her last with the dark Elven Lord that had bewitched her, the stories do not say.

Tinwe stirred in his sleep. He was dreaming about IT again. Melian knew that the curse of the Silmarils was eating away at him, and there was nothing she could do to change the fate decreed by Mandos. All who were caught in the web of the Silmarils must suffer. She could not change Tinwe's fate, but perhaps she could bend it. She left the bed, and went to her looms. Melian had studied with Vaire, wife of Mandos, and she was not without power. The tapestry she wove might see her King past his doom and to a new life.

Thus it was that Tinwe woke alone, and with thoughts of the Silmaril blazing in his mind. Surely the Dwarves must be finished with the necklace! He wrapped his gown around him and walked barefoot down the corridors of the Thousand Caves until he came to his Treasury. Inside, he could hear the Dwarves in debate.

"But the Nauglamir was never meant to be worn by one such as him," said one of the Dwarves, the ancient Kalin of Belegost.

"Indeed this is the necklace of the Dwarves, made for Finrod Felegund. If Finrod is dead, then it should be returned to the Dwarves!" The Dwarf known as Bain shook his fist!

Tinwe strode into the chamber. "What is this prattle? The Nauglamir is mine now, and I have paid you well to set the Silmaril amidst the jewels of the Necklace. If you have finished your craft then give it to me that I might clasp it about my neck!"

Nain, a Dwarf from Nogrod spoke. "By what right does the Elvenking lay claim to the Nauglamir, that was made by our fathers for Finrod Felegund who is dead? It has come to him but by the hand of Hurin the Man of Dor-lormin, who took it as a thief out of the darkness of Nargothond."

Thingol looked at the Dwarves, and saw the lust in their eyes. They cared not for the necklace, but craved the Silmaril for themselves! "How do ye of uncouth race dare to demand aught of me, Elu Thingol, Lord of Beleriand, whose life began by the waters of Cuivienen years uncounted ere the fathers of the stunted people awoke?"

The Elvenking stood tall and proud before the Dwarves. His words drove them to rage. Nain drew a sword and drove it through the King's chest. Thingol looked at the Dwarves in shock, as the blood spilled from the wound. The Dwarves looked shocked as well.

"Fuck!" said Anson, whose beard was still quite short. "Now you've done it! I'm getting out of here!"

The other Dwarves quickly agreed this was a good idea, and grabbing the Nauglamir and the Silmaril, departed the chamber.

Melian stood in her room, gazing at the completed tapestry. It showed her husband, dying on the Treasury floor, while a strange crystal bubble glowed behind him.


Prologue 3
Pine Valley, 1997

"Michael, come out of the closet."

"Ha ha ha, Brad, very funny. Forget it, I'm not coming out dressed like this."

"Come on, Michael, let Dr. Brad see." Brad stood in front of the full-length mirror admiring his costume. He straightened his mask, and blew himself a kiss. "Hi-Ho Silver!" Brad loved wearing his Lone Ranger suit, and never missed a chance to put it on. Tonight was special, as he had finally convinced his lover, Michael, to dress up for the party as well.

"These pants you bought are too tight! I can't get them zipped up."

"Well, let me help!" Brad went over to the big walk-in closet he shared with Michael.

"OH MY! My, my, my! Michael! You are a vision!

Michael blushed as he finally got his pants zipped up and the belt buckled. Already, the leather felt hot, despite cool autumn night. Brad had bought him a complete leather motorcycle police uniform. Michael was a little surprised at how turned on he was by the clothes. He had always been into jock uniforms, but this was his first time in leather. The sight of his lover in the white cowboy suit and mask made him even more excited.

"Brad, there is no way I am going out of this apartment dressed like THIS!"

"Come on, Mike, we promised Mateo that we would be there for Holidays' first Halloween Party. Let me help you finish up. Here, let's get this belt on you."

"Damn, that's heavy, what is all that stuff?"

"Well, here is your nightstick, and some handcuffs, and some more handcuffs, and . . "

"Brad, I think we can have a lot more fun with this stuff right here!"

"Nonsense! Now put on your mirrored sunglasses and your helmet, and let's go!"


Prologue 4
The Time Bubble

Tab, Scott, Pluto, and Proty stared at the widget. As the eyes glowed, cables began growing out of the widget's head and embedded themselves into the Time Bubble's control panel. The entire operating mechanisms were fused with the widget, and they had no idea where or when they were traveling. A minute passed. Even the playful Pluto was quiet. Then, the eyes of the widget closed, and the feeling of movement stopped. The Time Bubble had materialized.

"Where are we?" asked Scott.

"We are in the palace of Menegroth, The Thousand Caves, in the Kingdom of Doriath, in the Elder Days of Middle Earth." Tab answered.

"How did you know that?" asked Pluto.

"I dreamed it, of course. I think Nura did too. I think this was the reason she sent us to Simballa. She knew we were destined to take this trip!"

"Why would the High Seer of Naltor want her sex toys and me to go off gallivanting through time?"

"Proty, what did you call us?"

"Well, come on. You don't really expect me to believe that you are her advisors, do you? Everyone knows you three are her boy toys."

Tab stood up straight and tall. "Proty, I am Nura's brother! My name is Tab Nal, and these lads are our first cousins, Big Scott Nal and Pluto Nal. It's true that Nura wanted us to pretend we were her lovers to make Thom jealous but actually, we're all gay! Most men on Naltor are gay, you know, just as most women are lesbians. That's why our society concentrated on genetic advancements."

"Yeah, and Pluto and I really are experts on agricultural exports. I could recite you statistics on grains and potatoes till the cows come home."

"Except we don't have cows on Naltor. We have llamas."

"Oh." Proty felt foolish. He had known that Big Scott and Pluto were queer for each other, but he thought they were just a couple of genetically enhanced sex machines that would sprock anything. As an Antarean, he had his own ideas about same sex couples, but this wasn't the time to get into THAT!

"Well, let's see what's out there, shall we?" Proty opened the door to the Time Bubble.

Outside the bubble stood a beautiful blonde, in a silver cloak that looked as if it had been woven from leaves. The blonde looked more like an angel than a woman, and there was something unearthly about her. Beside her, on the floor, was a tall man with silver hair and a lot of blood. Make that two tall men, for Proty was surprised to see another body on the floor, identical to the first.

Melian spoke. "There is not much time. My husband will die in just a few minutes if you do not help him. I have seen much of what is to come. I knew you would arrive here, and I know you will save Tinwe. I have created this doppelganger to show to his people. To all his subjects, it will be as if he died here in this cold chamber. But I will know that he lives and that is enough for me. Quickly! Lift his wounded body into your craft!"

Such was her authority that the three men could not refuse her. She was even more imperious than Nura! They gently lifted Tinwe and brought him into the Time Bubble. Melian followed them into the craft and spoke words they could not understand to the strange widget that now controlled the vessel. Then, turning to her unconscious husband, she laid a hand on his brow. "My people were fair and had sky in their hair, but now they're content to wear stars on their brow." Placing a parcel on the bench beside him, she passed out of the bubble and the door closed behind her.

As the beings from the future tried to staunch the flow of blood from the dying Elf, the Time Bubble moved on to its next destination.

Prologue 5
Halloween, 1997

Michael and Brad stepped out into the cool night air of Tyler Street. Michael looked down the street to make sure nobody saw him in his outlandish costume as he walked towards the park.

"Brad, how come you're taking your black bag to the party?"

"Well, Michael, as a doctor, I've learned to always be prepared for the unexpected. You never know when someone in Pine Valley might go into labor."

"Excuse me, did you say you were a doctor?"

The two men turned around to see who had spoken. At first they didn't see anyone, but then Brad looked down to see a small amorphous yellow blob.

"Please," said Proty, "he's losing a lot of blood, and if he doesn't get medical assistance, I think he will die."

Brad and Michael looked at each other and shrugged. This was weird even by Pine Valley standards. "OK, said Dr. Brad, "take me to the patient."

Proty led the two men into an alleyway where the Time Bubble had come to rest. "He's in there."

The time bubble rested in the alley behind Brad's apartment building. Brad entered through the shimmering doorway while Michael waited outside. Brad squeezed past Big Scott and Pluto to get to his patient. Inside the bubble, Tinwe lay in shock. A victim of multiple stab wounds, his skin was pale and grey from loss of blood. Tab had hauled out the emergency medikit and was trying to read the first aid manual. Naltorian super-science was very advanced but Tab's specialty was foreign relations, not medicine.

"We need to get this man-"

"Elf," interjected Tab.

"-this Elf to the hospital! I'll see what I can do to stabilize him. I need more room though. You two!" Brad looked up at Big Scott and Pluto. "Tell Mike to call an ambulance. I can't handle this by myself!"

"Right. Come on Scott." The two giants left the bubble and approached the leather-clad Michael. No sooner had they exited when the bubble door shimmered close and the time bubble vanished. Michael stared as his lover disappeared without a trace. He was left in the alley with the loin-clothed Pluto and the kilted Big Scott.

Pluto and Scott didn't seem too perturbed by their ride home leaving without them. "I knew that was going to happen," said Pluto as he and Scott advanced on sexy schoolteacher.

Back in the bubble, Brad hadn't even noticed they were moving. He had analyzed the wounds to see which ones were most serious. He and Tab worked well together. Brad didn't know what the equipment in the medi-kit was, but could see what organs needed repair. Tab had a basic familiarity with the equipment (bone-knitters, organ regenerators, blood-enhancers) but had no idea what tool to use where. Between them, they managed to slowly heal each wound.

The passage of time had little meaning in the bubble, but after several hours, Brad suddenly realized the ambulance hadn't show up. As he looked up from the now healed but sleeping Tinwe, he saw the churning aether outside the bubble. "Oh shit. Where are we?"

For his part, Tab was amazed that the handsome doctor had managed to save the Elf's life without getting a drop of blood on his Lone Ranger outfit. "Sprock if I know."

The bubble traveled on. Tab gave Brad a short history lesson. Proty tried manipulating the controls but they were fused with the widget. Eventually Tinwe woke up.

As the Elf opened his eyes, he remembered everything. He remembered the Silmaril, lost to him forever now. And he was free of it. He remembered his wife Melian, but knew that the spell which had held them together for so many ages had been broken with his near death. He explored his healed wounds. He was naked and unashamed, but Tab pointed to the package that Melian had left with them. Inside was suit of Elvish armor, a sword, an Elven cloak, and a small glittering green jewel. Tinwe dressed in the magic armor, sheathed the black sword on his belt, and draped the cloak over his shoulders. The jewel he wore on chain over his brow. It sparkled like a star.

The warrior, the healer, the seer, and the shape-shifter stood together in the bubble, and wondered where the adventure would take them next. Brad felt dwarfed by the two beings next to him. Even though the six-foot-two Brad was tall by Earth standards, Tinwe was several inches taller and Tab was taller still.

The bubble shook and Brad lost his balance. Tab and Tinwe caught him, and Brad's manhood stirred to be held by his two powerful companions. Tab was a hunk, but the Elf was a walking wet dream. He briefly wondered how Michael was getting along with the other two strangers in the alley.

Brad's Story
Chapter 1
TO THE ENDS OF TIME

The occupants of the time bubble were thrown forward as the bubble came to an abrupt halt. As near as Brad could tell, nothing had changed. They were still surrounded by the swirling colored aether of the time stream. “So, where are we?” he asked.

“'When are we?' is the more appropriate question,” Tab responded.

“I think I know why we stopped,” said Proty. “I've seen holo-vids of this place before. We've crashed into the Iron Curtain of Time.”

“I thought that was just a myth? Like the Crisis or something.”

“No, Tab. The Crisis was real, and so were the Time Trapper and his barrier. I remember how frustrated the Legion was at their inability to penetrate it.”

“What's that over there? Who are those beings, flying unaided through the mists?” Tinwe pointed to a blur of red and blue a short distance away. His elven eyesight was sharper than Tab's or Brad's, and he could plainly see three distinct figures. He described them to the others. “All three wear brightly colored, close fitting garments. One wears an azure suit with a crimson cape; another wears a crimson suit with a cape of azure. The third has no cape, but is dressed in crimson and viridian. All three appear to be hale lads of sixteen summers.”

“We must be witnessing one of the Legion's attempt to crack the curtain. The one with the red cape is Superboy, a Kryptonian. He was a companion of the Legion, who traveled through time from the 20th century to the 30th in order to join the team. His companion in the blue cape is Mon-el, a Daxamite from the Superboy's time, who was imprisoned in the Phantom Zone for a thousand years. Kryptonians and Daxamites both have amazing powers of strength, invulnerability, flight, speed, and vision. The third youth has to be Ultra Boy, a Rimborian adventurer who could match Superboy or Mon-el in any contest, but could only use one of his superpowers at a time. The three of them made several attempts at forcing their way beyond the barrier, but never succeeded.”

As Proty spoke, all the occupants in the bubble witnessed another failed assault, as the three heroes crashed into the wall of time, only to be thrown back. As they regrouped, they noticed the time bubble hovering nearby, and flew over to examine it. As they approached, the bubble opened and the three were admitted.

“Proty? What are you doing here, and who are these others?”

“Greetings, Superboy. I am Proty, but 20 years older from when you last saw me. I entered the time stream from a point in your future. My companions are Tab Nal, Chief Advisor to the High Seer of Naltor, Dr. Brad Phillips, a physician from a 20th century Earth, though not the Earth from which you originate, and Tinwe Linto, an Elven Lord from a distant past that I suspect is yet another parallel dimension. Tab and I were travelling with his cousins, when we lost control of the time bubble. We made a couple of unscheduled stops, picked up Brad and Tinwe, and left the cousins trapped in Brad's world.”

“You're from the future?” asked Mon-el. “Tell us, do we succeed in finding what the Time Trapper is hiding from us behind this barrier?”

“Well, yes and no. I really shouldn't tell you too much about your future.”

As they spoke, the widget had been busy making adjustments to the Time Bubble. Slowly, the bubble had begun to pierce the curtain. With a jump, the bubble was through the barrier and moving again. The colors began to coalesce into solid shapes, and the bubble came to a halt, materializing on a barren planetoid. The automatic door opened, and the widget closed its eyes.

The six men and one Antarean stepped outside the bubble. The air was breathable here, despite the fact that the planetoid was too small to sustain an atmosphere. There was no sun, but the light from the time bubble illuminated the immediate area.

“Welcome to the End of Time. I see my little widget worked, and you have all arrived safely. Excellent.”

No one had seen him approach, but the Time Trapper suddenly stood in their midst. “It's him! Let's get him, Leg…i….o…..n……n…….a……..i…….r……….e…………s………….s&#82 30;…………!”

“Foolish boy. Even super-speed cannot avail you against one who controls time itself.”

Tinwe had put his hand to his sword, but released it when he saw what had happened to the three youths. They were moving, but in incredible slow motion.

“I'm sure you are all wondering why I gathered you here. I have need of your services. The time stream has shattered, and while I can move freely through time, I can no longer guarantee which future or past I will arrive in. Between Crises, Zero Hours, Amalgams, and God Waves, the fabric of time-space is disintegrating. Every year, something crosses over into my universe to further weaken continuity. It's gotten to the point where I don't know who I am anymore. You three are all from different realities; this lets you slide through the dimensional barriers more easily. These three Legionnaires have the raw power you will need to accomplish your tasks.”

“Tasks?” said Tab? “Why should we help you?”

“That should be obvious. I am your only hope of returning to your own time. Plus, I'll be holding your Antarean friend here as hostage.”

Proty started to protest, but was gripped in a stasis field, trapped between seconds.

“I don't see why you need us. I'm just a doctor, with no powers. Tab can tell the future, but that shouldn't be a big issue to someone who can control time. Even Tinwe is just a big powerful elf warrior with magic armor. No offense Tin.”

“None taken, brave Brad. But do not sell us too short. Your healing abilities did call me back from the Halls of Mandos, something even Melian could not achieve. And I, I who have seen the light of the Two Trees in Valinor, and who have ruled the Kingdom of Doriath for three ages of the world, I am something more than just a mere Elf warrior. Our noble companion Tab also has a certain resolve about him that comes from being born into the First Family of Naltor. We may not be the demigods these brightly clad youths be, but we are NOT to be trifled with.”

“Indeed, Tinwe Linto. I do not underestimate any of you. When I planted the widget back in time, I directed it to seek out men who could aid me and bring you to me. Still, I sense there were other forces at work. Nura Nal and Melian both added their own threads to my design. No matter. You will do as I say, and in the end, you will thank me. Come, we have much to discuss.”

more more more!

Thanks, Harbinger. I'll be posting all of Brad's Story here but I think the sequels are too X-Rated for this forum. If anyone's interested, here's a link to my Yahoo Group. Of interest to Legion Fans are:
Brad's Story
Krypto's Story
Jo's Story
The Last Mikey Story (I may post an edited copyof this one here)

and the unrelated
The Revenge of the Knave from Krytpon

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HyperionRanch/

[I}Erotic M/M stories with an emphasis on B&D. Meet your favorite characters from Pine Valley, the 30th Century, Middle Earth, West Hollywood, Graymarye, Amazona, and Major League Soccer at Hyperion Ranch! [/I]

Brad's Story
Chapter 2
The Soapstone

Lantano Mountain, 1958

Brad and Mon-el found themselves in the Pennsylvania countryside.

“The Trapper! Where did he go? Uh, where are we?”

“Take it easy, Mon, The Time Trapper slowed down your reactions when you and your friends started to attack him. He also put Proty in a stasis field and threatened to keep him imprisoned if we didn't fulfill his quests. He sent me back in time to my home dimension; he called it Earth-ABC, and he sent you with me. He said that you should be able to get the obscure object he desires with ease.”

“Earth-ABC? I never heard of that one.”

“Yeah, well, it's home. OK, here's the deal. It's 1958, and there's some sort of scientific project going on in a secret underground city somewhere around here. The idiots in charge have purloined some sort of time jewel confiscated from one of Hitler's occult research centers. They don't know what it is or what it does, but they're about to crack it open, and the results will cause time distortions throughout the entire northeast for the next fifty years. People will age mysteriously, and no one will notice. The sun will only set once a week, yet the people affected won't notice. Weekends will be non-existent. And nobody will remember anything that happened six months ago.”

“That's sounds terrible!”

“It gets worse. People will undergo strange changes in appearance and personality. Their pasts will change from one day to the next. Their accomplishments will be forgotten and attributed to other people. Imposters will take their place, and everyone will either pretend they don't notice or think that it is for the best.”

“Boy, Brad, I'd hate it if something like that happened to me!”

Brad looked at the lad in red and wanted to cry. The Time Trapper had told Brad a bit about Mon-el's time-tossed fate, and it just didn't seem fair. He seemed so strong, so noble, so young. And yet he had already spent 1000 years in something called the Phantom Zone, and was destined to have his history re-written a dozen times or more. If the Trapper could help prevent the torture headed Mon-el's way, Brad would be a willing accomplice.

“So we're supposed to stop them from destroying this . . . what did you call it?”

“It's called the Soapstone. But no, we can't prevent its destruction. That has happened/will happen. We're not here to create any more paradoxes. But we can do what we already did/will do. We just have to witness it. The Trapper said your Daxamite body will absorb the first wave of the temporal energies.”

“And that will . . .do what?”

“Your body will act as a prism, focusing the energy in specific locales. I'll collect the residue in this device the Trapper gave me, and then return it to him.” Brad held up the odd device, which looked like a tambourine with feathers.

“Ha ha! The Lone Ranger with a dream catcher! Um, exactly why ARE you dressed as the Lone Ranger?”

“Cut me some slack. I was on my way to a Halloween Party when I joined the Time Bubblers.”

“Sorry. Actually, it looks very good on you. You wear it well. Is that gun loaded?”

“As a matter of fact, it is, and with silver bullets too! I believe in authenticity when I dress up.”

“Alright then, let's proceed. Where is this underground city?”

“I think we're standing on it. This is Lantano Mountain, and the city of Eterna is under our feet.”

Mon-el used his x-ray vision to confirm Brad's statement. There was indeed a small city buried underground. “Stand back, I may kick up some dust when I drill through the earth.” Mon-el flew into the air, then reversed direction and flew straight at the mountain and started spinning, digging a small access tunnel to the city. After a moment he flew back to the surface. “Done. I've created an entrance into the lab area. Come on, I'll carry you down.”

Mon-el wrapped Brad in his arms and the two of them entered the city. True to his word, Mon-el delivered them to a small closet area in the scientific quarters. There were numerous orange jumpsuits hanging on hooks. “We'd better put these jumpsuits on, or we'll be noticed right away. Ha! I guess if it really is 1958, it makes sense for me to be back in the closet!”

“Huh?”

“Private joke.” Brad found a large baggy suit that he was able to slip on over his costume. The more muscular Mon-el was not so lucky, and wound up having to take off his costume in order to fit into one of the jumpsuits. Brad couldn't help watching as the handsome young Daxamite stripped down to his underwear. Tinwe had said all the youths were sixteen, but Brad was pretty sure Mon-el was older than that. No sixteen-year-old had a package like that! As Mon-el stood there in his boxers, he noticed Brad's appreciative looks.

“What are you staring at?”

“Oh, nothing. I'm just surprised. I thought all you superhero types wore your underwear on the outside.”

“Very funny Kemosabe. How much time to we have?”

“No idea. You know as much as me. Can you see anything with that x-ray vision of yours?”

Mon-el scoped out the city with his supervision and superhearing. “Yes, they are performing primitive laser experiments in a large sub-complex across the hall. The doctors are all wearing jumpsuits like ours, and protective hoods.”

“Like these?” Brad pointed to a row of orange hoods with Plexiglas facemasks.

“Exactly,” said Mon-el, fitting one over his head.

“Perfect. Let's go.”

In the Temporal Studies lab, Dr. Darrin Collins was making the final adjustments to his equipment. Half of Eterna was in attendance, waiting to see the culmination of the first laser test, and what effect it would have on the gem. The gem had been an obsession of Dr. Collins ever since he had read of it in the Collins family records. It had been in the family since the 17th century, when legend said it was created by a warlock. A Collins ancestor had executed the warlock, but kept the Soapstone. That is until it was lost by Darrin's grandfather during the 1920's. Somehow the Nazis had gotten it, and then Uncle Sam wound up with it. It was pure luck that Darrin heard of it, and had managed to divert its shipment to Eterna.
And now, at last, it would yield up its secrets. So engrossed was the doctor in his work that he never noticed two additional orange-clad figures enter the room.

Mon-el and Brad slowly pushed their way to the front of the spectators. In the center of the room, on a steel table, was a large milky crystal the size of a hockey puck. Poised above it, was a primitive laser some twenty feet long. The giant ruby laser began to pulse. The room shook as the red beam bathed the Soapstone in a crimson glow. In the control room, lights flashed and tape reels spun as the powerful Univac collected data. Key punch cards went flying as the computer overloaded.

One of the orange-clad scientists grabbed Dr. Collins by the arm.

“Shut it down, Darrin! This isn't going according to plan!”

“No! Damn it Stokes! You know how long I've waited for this! Just a few more seconds, and I'll have the data I need to use the Soapstone!”

“Another few seconds and that laser is going to explode!”

The Soapstone exploded first, and Mon-el leaped onto the table, shielding the other occupants from the opalescent rays it emitted. Brad held up his dream catcher and felt the temporal energy coruscating through him as he acted like a ground to a powerful current. Still Brad didn't seem to hurt by the effect, while Mon-el –

Mon-el was disintegrating. “Brad! What's happening?” The youth looked terrified as the Soapstone blew him apart. Mon-el was floating above room, spinning in circles and shooting out the absorbed energy from his limbs. One leg was pointed towards nearby Pine Valley, the other shot energy over Willow Lake to Corinth. One arm was pointed to Port Charles, another to New York City. Then Mon-el exploded, the remaining temporal energy settling on Lantano Mountain and Llanview.

Brad looked on in horror. Had the Trapper lied? Was this all an elaborate plot to kill his most powerful enemies? Would Ultra-boy and Tinwe face the same treachery in Middle Earth? And what of Superboy and Tab on Earth 1? One thing seemed to be working according to plan. Having absorbed some of the temporal energy in the spirit catcher, Brad was returning to the future. He was sorry to go. He would have liked to have seen Pine Valley in the fifties. Perhaps before his adventures were over, he would.

Professor Stokes examined his boyhood friend, Darrin Collins. The explosion had caused the doctor to have a heart attack. He was dead. The Soapstone had been shattered, but one small chunk remained. Stokes pocketed it as the medics carried Collins away. A tragic loss, thought Stokes, but one Collins had brought on himself. In the aftermath, one thing puzzled him. Nobody had identified the strange man who had been levitated and then destroyed by the gem. No doubt it was one of Victor Lord's spies. Stokes put it out of his mind, and began to consider his own future now that Darrin Collins was dead. Eterna was a sealed city, but Stokes had connections. He would find a way out of this city of the damned and return home to Collinsport where he would be able to examine the remaining fragment and the costly data at his leisure.

What was left of the Soapstone was going home to Collinsport.

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

OLD RIVER ROAD, 1977

Jonathan and Martha Cobb were on their way home when they saw the light come streaking out of the sky from behind Lantano Mountain. Like a rocket, it screamed through the air, crashing into a field by the side of the road.

“Jonathan! Stop the car! What could that be?”

Jonathan pulled the car off the road, and the two of them warily crossed the field to the small impact crater. They expected to see burning wreckage, not a baby, but a baby is what they saw.

“Oh, Jonathan, do you think . . . I mean, we've always wanted a baby . . . is it possible?”

“Well, Martha, I've always wanted someone to take over my Fuller Brush route. He's obviously an orphan. Let's adopt him. We can call him Bob. Bob Cobb”

Jonathan took off his plaid sports coat and wrapped the crying infant in the jacket. Together, the three of them drove back to their trailer by the shores of Willow Lake. Mon-el was alive. But he was about to ret-conned again.

Brad's Story
Chapter 3
An Eye for an Eye

Eriador, Middle Earth, Third Age 2933

Jo Nah completed his leap towards the Time Trapper, but the Trapper was no longer there, and the reckless lad landed in the mud, skipping like a stone through the brush. He switched his powers to invulnerability just before he landed, but that didn't keep him from getting a mouthful of mud. It was raining heavily, and appeared to be twilight, though it was hard to be sure in the downpour.

“Where'd everybody go? What happened to the Trapper?”

“The cloaked being you call the Time Trapper slowed your movements so that you could not attack him. He has sent us on a quest, which we must complete for he holds my companion Proty hostage. You and I were sent to Middle Earth to obtain a 'palantir', one of the seven seeing stones of Numenor. At this moment in time, several of the 'palantiri' have been lost, and we must obtain one of these missing stones to ransom the shapechanger.”

“Bloody Nass! I don't like doing the Trapper's work for him. What do these seeing stones look like? How are we supposed to find one?”

“I have never seen one. They were constructed long after my time in this world. But I was told that they are round, and clear, and perfectly smooth. The smallest is the size of a man's head, the largest, perhaps six times that. We must seek the rightful heir to one of these stones, and obtain his aid in retrieving it, else it will be useless.”

“Any ideas where to start?”

“I suspect one of the men in the warrior band now encircling us may be able to help us.”

“Do not move! My men have made you the targets of their arrows, and the Rangers of the North do not often miss their targets. Speak your names, and by whose right you travel in these lands.”

“I am Tinwe Linto, also called Thingol Greymantle, and as you can see, an Elf. I observe that there are two Elves in your company, so I presume you have some familiarity with my race. My companion is a Man, a youth from a distant land, and he is called Ultra-boy. We are travelers, and did not know we required permission to travel this seeming wasteland.”

This caused some consternation among the group. Ultra-boy counted 40 men plus two others who could only be Elves. Their resemblance to Tinwe was remarkable. They were quite agitated by Tinwe's remarks and conferred with the tall man who had spoken first.

“My companions tell me that Thingol has been dead for since before the fall of Morgoth. Yet clearly you are an Elf of high bearing. How came you to have the name of their, and indeed, my own ancestor? For know ye that I am Arathorn, son of Arador, the heir of Isildur, Elendil's son of Gondor. My ancestor Elendil was descended from Elros, first king of Numenor, and he was the grandson of Thingol's daughter Luthien.”

“Yet, even so, I am Thingol, father of Luthien, and through the will of the Valor, I have returned to Middle Earth to find you, Arathorn. I prefer to be called Tinwe, however.”

Whatever Arathorn's response might have been, it was cut short by a runner who joined the group. “Arathorn! The orc tribe has left their mountain holds and is marching this way. We must prepare!”

“Yes, Drumor, you are correct. Clearly your mother did not raise dummies.”

Of course, Arathorn didn't actually say “dummies”, that's just the way Jo Nah's telepathic plug interpreted the words from Westron.

“ Elladan! Elrohir! I leave these strangers in your care. See that they are not harmed, yet be cautious. Their story is wondrous, and if true, news must be taken to Elrond, your father, first of the Half-Elven.”

And with those words, Arathorn and the Rangers melted away into the night, to lay their trap for the orcs. Tinwe and Ultra-boy were left alone with the two Elves who had traveled with the Rangers. Tinwe studied the two who were, if Arathorn had spoken true, Tinwe's own great-great-great-grandsons. The two were obviously twins, and as fair and strong and tall as any of the Elf Lords of old. Indeed, Tinwe was quite certain he saw elements of all the great houses in the young Elves' faces. There was a Noldorin air to them, and when he looked into their eyes, he guessed that they counted Galadriel as an ancestor as well.

For their part, the sons of Elrond had no doubts as to the identity of the Elf King before them. There were in the house of Elrond several works of art that had survived to fall of Doriath, and Tinwe's likeness was familiar to them. The three talked quietly for some while, Tinwe learning about what had happened to his people, Elladan and Elrohir learning about the true events surrounding Tinwe's alleged death at the hands of treacherous Dwarves.

Jo Nah was bored. As far as he was concerned, this was all ancient history, and an alternate ancient history at that. He wanted to get the bloody seeing stone and return to the future: his future. The only way that was going to happen was for Arathorn to get back. He used his Ultra-vision to scan the area, seeking the Chieftain of the Rangers. A kilometer away, the Rangers had sprung their trap, their archers cutting into the ranks of the warg-riding orcs. But the Rangers were outnumbered, three to one, and some of the orcs had archers too. Now that the initial surprise was over, the orcs began to attack in earnest.

“Arathorn needs some help, I'll be right back.” With a burst of Ultra-speed, Jo was at the battlefield, running interference for the Rangers. A bit of Ultra-vision turned back the warg-riders. Wargs hated fire, and the unexplained flashes of heat on their tails sent them running for the hills. Activating his invulnerability, Jo could intercept the orc attacks, the orc-arrows bouncing off his body of steel. Some distance away, he saw a fierce orc-warrior notch an evil looking arrow, and aim it at Arathorn. As the arrow fired towards the Ranger's head, Jo switched back to Ultra-speed, plucking the arrow out of the air just as it was about to pierce Arathorn's eye.

“You have saved my life, lad. Never have I seen one with abilities such as yours. Surely the Valor have sent you!”

“I never heard of the Valor, but if you get killed, you can't help me and the Elf!”

Later that night, the Rangers sat in their camp rejoicing their victory and the young Legionnaire who had saved their leader. The three Elves were deep in conversation, working out a family tree that stretched several thousand years. The revelry was interrupted by the arrival of two women and an infant.

“Gilraen! What brings you and Sewalc here? And why have your brought Aragorn to a battle camp?”

Jo Nah asked Elladan what was happening.

"Gilraen is Arathorn's wife, and the infant she carries is their son Aragorn. The other woman is Gilraen's sister, Sewalc. Sewalc has inherited her mother's gift of foresight, and despite her beauty and good nature, her presence here at this time cannot be good. She wears her bitchface, which is a sure sign she is about to deliver one of her prophetic rants.”

Of course, Elladan didn't actually say “bitchface”, that's just the way Jo's telepathic plug interpreted the Elvish words.

“Arathorn, my love, I came because I feared you were dead, and that our son was orphaned. I was awoken earlier by a dream in which you lay cold and still on the ground, an arrow through your eye.”

“In truth, this nearly happened, fair one. If not for this "Ultra Boy', I would be dead this night. Rejoice with us that this fate was averted.”

Sewalc spoke: "Rejoice not! The will of Mandos has been altered this night!" Then she fell into a trance and spake the Prophecy of Eriador.

[I]To be rid of the Eye, an arrow must fly
For the King to return, a Chieftain must burn
Do not tempt fate, or the Fourth Age will wait
Arathorn must leave; Gilraen must grieve
Don't be a dope, give the Dunedain Hope
Show some cajones; find the damned seeing stones
Get ye to Bree, for it sucks to be me[I]

With her last words, Sewalc fell to the ground, leaving all to ponder what the words of the seer might mean.

Brad's Story
Chapter 4
The Medusa Mask

West Hollywood, 1997

“..e……g…..i…o..n..naires! Uh, time stasis, right? I hate when that happens! So, where'd everybody go?”

Tab took stock of his surroundings. He and Superboy had materialized inside a primitive residential unit, late 20th Century, judging from the state of the electronics. The room was less than impressive. Could the fabled Medusa Mask really be in such a place?

“Superboy, while you and the other Legionnaires were time-stopped, the Time Trapper imprisoned my friend Proty in a temporal field. He charged each of us to journey into the past of our respective universes to retrieve power objects for him. Brad and Valor went to Brad's world to steal the Soapstone, a magical crystal that causes time distortions. Tinwe and Ultra-Boy went to Middle Earth to purloin a palantiri, one of the seven seeing stones of Numenor. Our job is to misappropriate the Medusa Mask. The Trapper said he would send us to a locale near where the mask was, so it could be somewhere in these rooms. Can you use your x-ray vision to find it?”

“I could if I knew what it looked like.”

“It resembles the masks representing Greek Theater. Sometimes it has the face of comedy, sometimes it bears the face of tragedy. The person wearing the mask can control the emotions of others. It is also rumored to have extra-dimensional powers that it absorbed though proximity with the Anti-Monitor's antimatter generators during the Crisis.”

“You've lost me now, Tab. I'm still trying to figure out who that Valor guy is you mentioned. You mean Mon-el?”

“Right. He . . . um . . . changes his name to Valor in the future.”

Superboy used his x-ray vision to scan the apartment. “I don't see the mask, but there is a lead-lined box in the closet in the bedroom. That could contain what we are looking for.”

Superboy and Tab entered the bedroom and opened the closet door. “You better open the box, Tab. Whenever I open boxes lined with lead, they always have Kryptonite inside!”

Tab reached for the small casket on the upper shelf of the closet, but before he could reach it, he heard the outer door open and the voices of two men as they entered the apartment. He quickly pulled Superboy inside the closet with him and closed the door.

“Well, Todd, that went a lot better than I ever expected! You're old man is pretty cool. I would never has guessed that Alan Scott was bisexual!”

“Me either, Corey, though I don't think you can call him bi based on one wartime romance! I think his preferences have been straight most of the time.”

[Author's note: Todd and Corey were characters from a Gay League round-robin fan-fiction story. Todd is Obsidian, of Infinity, Inc., Corey is the heroic Wizard Jr., son of the Golden Age Wizard.]

“Were you as surprised as I was? It was a big enough shock hearing your dad talk openly about it, but when he told us about sleeping with . . .. Well, I nearly fell off my chair!”

“And Jade did! It was as big a shock to her, I'm sure. She was pretty cool about me coming out, but I figured she would be. She's an actress and all, she's had lots of gay friends. But even she spazzed out at the though of Pop doing it with one of America's biggest icons.”

Todd and Corey entered the bedroom together. “Oh God, Corey, I want you so bad. I just want to make up for all the time we lost while I was less than whole. The doppelganger spell your dad cast on me had me so screwed up, I didn't know what I wanted. Right now, I just want you naked!”

A man of action, Todd began undressing Corey. The two men seemed to be in a race to see who could get the other's clothes off first, and soon, both men were rolling on the bed naked. In the closet, Tab could only hear the noise the two were making, but it was obvious what was going on outside the door. Superboy had been using his x-ray vision, and suddenly turned very red.

“Those two guys,” he superwhispered, “they're . .. they're . . . and. . . but . . . they're both guys!”

“Take it easy, Superboy!” Tab couldn't superwhisper, so he signed his response. Luckily, while the lad from Krypton didn't know about human sexuality, he did know how to sign, though it took him a while to translate from Interlac to English. Apparently, the telepathic earplugs didn't automatically translate hand gestures.

Superboy knew he should stop watching, but the scene was so passionate, and so new to him, that he watched the entire lovemaking duet between Obsidian and the Wizard Jr. At one point his mouth just dropped open. “Nobody in the Smallville High School was that big,” he thought. And when he saw where Todd was putting his large member, Superboy just closed his mouth and gulped. Tab couldn't help noticing that Superboy was softly moaning. Whatever he was seeing, it evidently turned the Teenager of Steel on in a major way. Eventually, the two young heroes finished and adjourned to the adjoining bathroom. Soon Tab heard the water running in the shower.

“Is it safe?”

“Yes, they are soaping each other up in the shower. SPROCK! I don't believe it! They are doing it again!”

“Great. That means they won't hear us!” Tab opened the door to the closet and reached for the casket. He turned the clasp and looked inside. The Medusa Mask returned his gaze. “OK, this is what we came for. Now, put your arms around me, and click your heels three times, and we should be on our way.”

As the Boy of Steel embraced Tab, the Naltorian noticed how appropriate the nickname was. “Dick of Steel, more like it,” he thought. “If he's this turned on by seeing two good looking guys in heat, that could explain why Insect Queen was always such a bitch!”

Tab didn't notice his own trans-dimensional slippage in thinking about Insect Queen, a Legionnaire reservist who didn't exist in Tab's post-crisis, pre-zero universe. Already, proximity to the Medusa Mask was having an effect.

The two time travelers faded away with their prize and they began their trip back to the Time Trapper's domain.

Brad's Story
Chapter 5
At the Sign of the Prancing Pony

The travelers rode their horses into the courtyard of the Prancing Pony Inn. As Jo climbed down from the saddle, he switched his power from invulnerability to Ultra-vision in order to get a better feeling for this strange village called Bree. Most of the houses were normal enough for a pre-industrial society, but scattered here and there were smaller houses that seemed sized for children, and occasionally they had passed round wooden doors built into the hillsides, implying houses built like burrows. Now, Jo could see why. Nearly a third of the inhabitants of Bree were the small halflings known as Hobbits. Seldom growing more than three feet high, these Hobbits lived side by side with the Men of Bree. Arathorn had told Jo that Bree was unique in the world, the only place where the two races cohabited.

Jo stretched, and bent over to touch the ground. He did a few squats. Invulnerability was no defense against the aches that came with two weeks spent in the saddle. “What a primitive way to travel,” he thought. Even before he had gained the ability of flight, Jo had been a space pilot, making the Rimbor-Naltor run with bootleg Silverale. It was illegal, but it had gotten him off the streets of Rimbor. But nothing in Jo Nah's past had prepared him for an extended horseback journey through the wilderness with three Elves and a Ranger.

The Innkeeper's wife, Mizzy Butterbur, came out to greet the party. “Greetings goodmen! And Elves! We don't get many Elves here at the inn, and that's a fact! Will you be wanting a room to yourselves then? And stabling for your tired horses, no doubt. Blondie! Take the animals to the stable and then open up the yellow room on the third floor for the gentlemen. Get along with you. Now where was I? Oh, yes, I have a nice vegetable stew in the kitchen, or you can help yourself to some spiced meats, and breads and cheeses in the commons. It's a small crowd tonight, but if word gets out that Elves are here, I've no doubt many will come for a song or a story, if you're so inclined. Mind you, I love a good story myself!”

A young man wearing a wide hat and poncho led the horses away to the stable wing, and Mizzy led Jo and his companions into the inn where Arathorn paid for the food and lodging in advance. “If we could have some food brought to our room, good lady, it would be well appreciated. We leave at dawn, and so had best not visit your commons tonight. Some hot water for a bath, a pitcher of your husband's excellent brew, and perhaps a pouch of pipeweed, and a couple of small pipes for my companions, who are traveling light.” He held two more coins out before the mistress. “And we would appreciate it also if word doesn't get out about the elves, so if you and Blondie would keep this confidence, your discretion will be rewarded before we leave.”

“Say no more sir, for you were never here, none of you. Disclose and die, that's my motto! Ah, and here's Blondie back from the stables now. I'll have a word with the lad, if you can find your way by yourselves. Up two flights, then the first door on the left. We'll be up soon with food and bathwater.”

Arathorn led the way. He was very familiar with the Prancing Pony and had visited the commons many times. It was an excellent place for gathering information about the state of the land that he held under his protection. That Mizzy had not recognized was a good sign. Shaving his head, and growing a beard had changed his looks considerably.

Tinwe was uncomfortable. He was used to the open woods and the caves of Menelgroth. This building of stairs and sticks and antimacassars was new to him, but he had acquiesced at the promise of ale and a bath.

Jo was just looking forward to a bed. Spending his days in the saddle and his nights on the ground had given him what he feared was a permanent stiff neck. His heart sank when they entered the room and he saw only two small beds.

“Well, there's only five of us,” Arathorn explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Mizzy was as good as her word, and soon she and Blondie had appeared trays of stew, bread, cheese, fruit and ale. Extra blankets and towels were produced from a closet down the hall, and a tub was wheeled into the room. As the hard-working youth carried steaming buckets of hot water up to the third floor, the cheerful hostess returned with a big pouch of pipeweed and two clay pipes.

Jo thought the food was excellent, and ate his entire bowl, wiping up the last of the mushrooms with a hunk of fresh baked bread slathered with butter. The cheese was aromatic and pungent, the apples were tart and crisp. But the ale! Jo had spent many hours of his youth getting drunk listening to the rhythm of the Rimbor Silverale bars, but the Butterbur Brew had Silverale beat.

Arathorn finished his meal and pushed back his plate. “I am going now to meet the mapmaker. If he can provide us with good maps of the northlands, then we should have little trouble going to Forochel. I'll be back as soon as I can. In the meanwhile, I suggest you stay in the room. Elves are an uncommon sight in Bree, and baths will be non-existent on the road ahead of us. Take advantage of it while you can, and save some hot water for me.” The Ranger slipped quietly from the room and down the stairs.

“If no one minds, I will take the first bath,” said Tinwe as he removed his armor.

“Go ahead,” said Elladan, “we're going to have a smoke first.” Elladan pulled his pipe out from his pack and filled it with the pipeweed the landlady had brought. “Ah. Longbottom leaf. There is none better. Jo Nah, let me have your pipe.”

“I don't smoke, thanks.”

“That's because you never had Toby Hornblower's Longbottom leaf!” said Elrohir laughing.

Jo took the pipe that was offered him and inhaled. It was a pleasant taste, very sweet and aromatic, reminding him slightly of skunks, but in a pleasant sort of way. Tinwe had never tasted the herb before, and accepted a bowl as well, slowly puffing while he relaxed in the hot bath. Soon, he and the three elves were talking and laughing about the things that happened on their journey from the orc battle. The day after he had saved Arathorn's life, the Rangers of the North held a council to debate the words of Sewalc the Seer. In the light of day her words seemed clear. Arathorn had been destined to die in that battle, an arrow through his eye. Jo Nah had saved him, altering history. For history to get back on track, Arathorn would die, figuratively at least. He had abdicated his position as Chieftain of the Rangers, and named his son Aragorn as his heir. Aragorn would be raised in fosterage by Elladan and Elrohir's father, Elrond the Half-Elven, and his destiny would continue as if he had been orphaned the previous night. Arathorn pledged himself to Jo and Tinwe's quest for the palantiri, and said goodbye to his people forever. The quest had led them to Bree, where Arathorn now sought information that would lead them all to the resting place of the two palantiri of the North. Shaving his head, and growing a beard, he left his wife, his son, and his people behind and started upon his new life.

Jo was the last to slip into the tub, which Blondie had been diligently cleaning and refreshing with continued buckets of hot water from the kitchen, he felt all the cares of the road slip away. The three Elves were naked, and Mizzy had collected their clothes to wash them before they set out on the next leg of the journey. They were all sharing another bowl of pipeweed when Arathorn returned. With him was a Hobbit.

“Companions, this is Friendly Underfoot, the rarest of all things, an adventurous Hobbit. She has traveled widely in the lands we are about to seek, and has made many maps of her adventuring. I sought only the maps, but she has insisted on one last adventure, and will be our guide once we reach the edge of my knowledge.”

“Ah, Longbottom leaf,” said Friendly, pulling out her pipe and helping herself to a bowl.

In the morning, Blondie helped them saddle their horses, and Mizzy came out to greet them. “I understand you travel to the far northern regions, even to the Ice Bay of Forochel itself. A word of caution! There have been rumors of trolls beyond Deadman's Dike, and you must be wary. Perhaps warriors such as yourself have no cause to worry, but trolls, though stupid, can be dangerous. Take care, my friends. Also, I ask a boon. My son, Blondie, longs to travel before settling down and taking over as the Master of the Prancing Pony. He wishes to ride with you. Allow him to travel with you, and help keep him safe, and you will have my gratitude forever. I have prepared extra supplies for your journey, which you are welcome to, whether you take the boy or not. But I would rather he travel in your company as your servant, and then, after seeing something of the world, return safe to me, than to have him go off on his own to an unknown end.”

Tinwe Linto spoke: “Good lady, you have shown us great courtesy and hospitality, and we will not say thee nay. Your son showed strength, humility, and a good nature last night as he waited upon us. He shall ride with us if he desires, but not as our servant. I will accept him as a fosterling, and guarantee his safety.”

And the seven were off. Now they were three Elves, one Man, two boys upon the brink of manhood, and a female Hobbit, albeit one with Tookish blood. Arathorn led the way through the lands his ancestors had ruled, behind him rode Jo Nah, the teenager from the future. Next, rode Tinwe, the Elf-King from the past. Behind him, sharing a horse, were Blondie Butterbur and Friendly Underfoot. In the rear, the twins rode side by side, laughing gaily in the sunshine as they advanced into Troll country.

Author's Note:
I deleted a chapter from this edition of Brad's Story since it contains no Legionnaires and dealt instead with characters from its companion piece, Michael's Story. In the missing chapter, Brad is waylaid on his journey back to the End of time and meets two alternate-world versions of his cousin Ben. One is a STAR Labs Security Guard who appeared in a Gay League Titans West Fan-Fiction story, the other Ben claims to be the writer of stories Brad and Ben are in.

Author Ben sends Security Guard Ben to Earth ABC where he winds up living with Tab's cousins, Big Scott and Pluto Nal in Brad and Michael's loft. Author Ben reassures Brad that Mon-el isn't dead. Mon-el is also on Earth ABC where he and Pluto have become lovers.

By the way, in case it wasn't clear from the text, Tab, Big Scott, and Pluto are all based on characters from the TMK period where Nura introduced them as her "advisors".

Besides Big Scott, Pluto, and Bob "Mon-el" Cobb, there is one other Legion-related character on Earth ABC. When the boys meet Myrtle Fargate she reveals that her name is really Myrt-el Vidar Fargate, a Superman descendent who is also mother to Rond Vidar and ex-wife of Universo. Turns out Universo tired of her so he tricked her into entering a prototype of the time cube and sent her back to the 20th Century.

None of that has anything to do with Brad's Story which is why I excised that chapter.

Ken

Interesting story. I can't wait to see where it's going!

Brad's Story,
Chapter 6
The Desert of Crossovers

Superboy and Tab were jolted from the time stream, their temporal momentum throwing them both to the ground. The invulnerable Superboy landed face first on the rock-strewn desert, and Tab was fortunate to land on top of the Boy of Steel, the youth's body absorbing the brunt of the impact for him. Still, the Medusa Mask went flying from Tab's hands, and the wind was knocked out of him. It was night. The air was cold, and Tab was slow in regaining his senses. “This isn't all that bad a position,” he thought.

“Ah, Tab? Are you okay?”

“Yes Superboy, I think so.”

“Then would you mind getting off my back?”

“Oh. Right. Sure.” Tab got and went to retrieve the mask. He found it easily in the dark; it seemed to call to him. “Wear me,” went the seductive voice, “I can make all your fantasies come true.” As Tab picked it up it felt like a living thing in his hands, trilling like a hard-shelled tribble, and the temptation to put the mask to his face was very strong.

“I wouldn't do that,” said a new voice. “You don't know where it's been.”

The stranger stood before them in a spandex camouflage suit with matching boots and a cape. He wore a green domino mask that did little to hide his handsome features and blonde hair. A heavy utility belt with many pouches and electronic equipment hung from his waist. He was fiddling with one of the devices as he spoke. “Right. The Earth-1 Superboy, a 5-year gap Naltorian studboy, and a Medusa Mask from an abandoned fan-fic universe, category GLA-97. Mind telling me what you think you're doing traveling cross-continuity without a license?”

“Who are you calling a studboy? And what are you supposed to be, Captain Chammie?”

“Heh. Heh. Heh. Funny boy. I'm Continuity Queen. This is my turf you're on, and I don't think you're supposed to be here. And this Mask is contraband material. I think I'm going to have to turn you guys over to the Queen Team.”

Superboy had gotten off the ground and came over to join the conversation. “What seems to be the problem, officer? We were just on a mission, well, a quest actually, and...”

“Can the small-talk, Krypto. I'm asking the questions.” Continuity Queen grabbed another device on his belt and scanned the Medusa Mask. “I'm picking up some wild readings from that thing. It seems to contain energy signatures of the whole Multi-verse! Just what were you planning on doing with that, anyway?”

“The Time Trapper sent us on a quest to retrieve three artifacts in return for our companion's safety. He sent us back in time to what was supposed to be my universe's past to retrieve it and we were on our way back to the End of Time when we landed here somehow.”

“I'm the reason you landed here, stud. I picked up a disturbance in the Continuity Circuit and when I set the controls on intercept, you dropped out of the time stream and into the Desert of Crossovers. This dark barren landscape is where all the misconceived crossover series come to die, and I watch over them, protecting them until they crumble into the dust.” To emphasize his point, a three part Millennium cover flew by, twisting in the breeze. “Hmm, the Time Trapper, eh? Which one? The Controller? Entropy? Cosmic Boy?”

“Cosmic Boy?” exclaimed Tab and Superboy in unison.

“I didn't know there was more than one Trapper,” said Tab. Some friends and me were stuck in an out of control Time Bubble when we ran into some Legionnaires at the Iron Curtain of Time. We all managed to pass through, but were caught by the Trapper. He imprisoned Proty II and now we have to save him. Can't you just give us the mask back and let us go?”

“Something else else smells. This doesn't mesh with any Trapper activity I've recorded in the past. Proty II, hmm. I wonder if Lurking Queen is involved in this somehow. I haven't seen him since that disaster when he tried to rescue all the black male Legionnaires from Limbo, but this sounds like one of his hair-brained schemes. Okay. You can have the mask back, but I'm going with you. This suit should make me invisible to everyone outside my own continuity, but I've adjusted it so that you two can see me. Don't say or do anything to give away my presence, and we'll see if we can't save Proty without turning this Mask over to some low-budget Time Trapper. Hey, Krypto, sorry I was so gruff with you before, but you are a minor, and you were breaking the law. And you, stud, what's your name?”

“I'm Tab Nal, I am the Minister of Agriculture on Naltor.”

“Yeah, right. All in the family, eh? How come you're wearing that ridiculous Otto Orion outfit?”

“It's a long story, and are you really in a position to talk, Chammie Boy? Nice cape, btw.”

“Thanks. Ready then? Let's go.”

The three joined hands and left the Desert of Crossovers behind. A pit of moldering Genesis panels quivered as Continuity Queen departed. The Genesis material had been quick to rot, and with their protector gone, the insubstantial fluff dried up and blew away in the night air.

Brad's Story
Chapter 7
Roast Mutton

“Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrer,” said Dweebid.

“Must you play with your food?” asked Drivel. “I would find such displays disgusting even if it were heterosexual.”

“I agree with Drivel,” said Dribble, “but that might be the drugs talking.”

“I think it's wonderful the way Dweebid handles the sheep. We could all learn a lesson from him!” Dimspam picked up a sheep of her own and tried thrusting against it. Lacking male genitalia, she had little success.

Dcups paid the others little attention. She was staring into a pool of water admiring her Trollish complexion in the moonlight. She could hardly believe her ill-luck in being forced to align herself with these boorish creatures, but since her father had turned to stone some months before she had been alone, and despite her disgust for Dweebid, the two of them had become uneasy allies. Since she was farthest from the sheep, she smelled it first. “Elves!” She hissed the word as if it pained her to even think it.

The others dropped their sheep and became very quite. They knew that Dcups was always right. “Where?” squealed Dribble.

Dweebid kicked her in the stomach to shut her up. He and Dcups moved away from the fire to the edge of the clearing. Dweebid took a deep breath. “Yes,” he whispered, “Elves, and men too. And something else. Achoo!”

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

Some distance away, Jo was endeavoring to pretend he could sleep on the hard ground with nothing but a blanket for padding. He had been in Middle Earth for over a month now and the end of their quest for the "palantir" seemed as far away as ever. Surely this was the most miserable mission he'd ever experienced! As he reviewed the past weeks in his mind he suddenly realized that his eighteenth birthday had come and gone and he'd never even noticed. He counted the days from when he'd arrived here with Tinwe. "It must have been that night we spent in Bree," he thought. "Well, at least I got to sleep in a bed on my birthday!"

Jo's reverie was broken as his Ultra-Hearing picked up a faint sound. From far off, he thought he heard a sneeze. “What was that?”

Arathorn was sound asleep, his arms wrapped around Blondie. Elladan and Elrohir were still going at each other like rabbits. They never seemed to get enough. Friendly had said she was going to scout the area around the camp and was nowhere to be seen. Only Tinwe responded to Jo's question.

“Trolls,” said Tinwe, rising and drawing his sword. “Perhaps your Ultra powers can discover their whereabouts?”

Ultra Boy scanned the area with his Ultra-Vision. The trolls had gone silent, and stood so still they seemed like rocks. Jo failed to detect them.

“All I see is a bunch of sheep standing around a campfire.”

Elladan and Elrohir noticed something was up and pulled on their leather riding clothes. Tinwe woke Arathorn and Blondie.

“Jo has found a fire and a small flock of sheep less than half a league north. I fear there may be a pack of trolls nearby. Best prepare yourself.”

“Trolls? That is bad news. Trolls are fearsome creatures to kill, even for warriors such as you and I. I hate to think what a Troll would do to the lithesome Blondie.”

Blondie blushed. In the week that he had been traveling with Arathorn and the others, he had become quite attached to the Ranger. When Arathorn took him to his bed three nights ago, Blondie felt himself the luckiest man in the world. But now the time for action had come, and Blondie laced up his breeches and joined the other men and Elves. “Where's Friendly?”

The Hobbit was generally so quiet and unobtrusive that the others hadn't realized she was gone. “She's an adventuresome lass,” said Arathorn, “perhaps she's already scouting the Troll's lair.”

“Let's split into pairs and fan out. If you see the Trolls, get a count on their number and regroup back here. Don't try to engage them on your own. Jo, you're with me.” Tinwe and Jo disappeared into the trees to the right.

“Blondie, you and I shall scout together. This way.” Arathorn and Blondie forged straight towards the Troll's camp.”

Elladan and Elrohir took the left-hand path.

Arathorn and Blondie reached the Troll's fire first, but saw no sign of the creatures aside from the sheep. “Ewww! What a smell,” said Blondie.

Arathorn put examined the fire for clues. “I believe there were five of them, four females and one male.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, it's obvious one of them at least was male from the way that ewe is walking.”

“Jinkies, aren't you the clever one?” Dweebid stepped out of the shadows with speed that seemed impossible due to his clumsy form. He was naked, covered with hair, and ugly. He grabbed Blondie by the neck and lifted him off the ground.

Arathorn drew his sword.

“Uh-uh-uh. One false move and your playmate gets a broken neck before you take another step. Put your sword down.”

Arathorn had no choice. Dweebid was already strangling the kicking and squirming hostler. Arathorn dropped his sword to the ground. Drivel, an immensely fat and bloated troll came out of hiding and bound the Ranger in rope.

“A Man! I haven't had a Man to eat in months!”

“You must share him, sister!” Dribble pawed at Arathorn, drooling all over him.

“You women can have the dark-haired one to yourselves. There's plenty of meat there for you. I'm claiming this blonde one for my own!” Dweebid sat on the ground and held Blondie close to him. He tried to remove his clothes, but his massive fingers fumbled with the buttons and laces, and in the end, he ripped them off.

“Fools! Tie them both up and keep vigilant! I smell Elves, I tell you. These Men reek of it.” Dcups threw her pendulous breasts over her shoulders and crept quietly back into the woods.

Dweebid carried both Arathorn and Blondie to a well inside his cave and dropped them to the bottom. “Sit tight, my tasty ones. I believe we are in for a scrumptious feast!”

Some distance away, Dcups led Dimspam, Drivel and Dribble after the twins, Elladan and Elrohir. Despite their valor, the two Half-Elven were surrounded and beaten down by the She-Trolls. They were bound, and Drivel and Dribble each carried one of the brothers back to their camp.

Dweebid was ecstatic. “Two Elves and two Men. How wonderful! I say we kill the older man right away and cook him for dinner tomorrow. The other three we can toy with until his bones are picked clean.”

Even Dcups was amenable to that, and the two Elves were thrown in the well with Arathorn and Blondie.

Jo Nah shook his head. “The twins got captured too. It's just you and me.”

“And me,” said a small tortoiseshell cat. The cat removed a ring from her paw, and Friendly stood before them.

“A magic ring!”

“Yes,” said Friendly. “It comes in handy. I scouted their camp earlier. We may have a small advantage. Their leader is allergic to cats. If I return, I'm sure I can be such an annoyance that they will try to chase and capture me. That should allow you time to rescue the others.”

“Between my Ultra Speed, Ultra Strength, and Ultra Flight, that should be child's play.”

“An excellent plan. And dawn is near. If you lead them far enough away from the cave, we can put an end to these Trolls permanently.” Tinwe drew his black blade for emphasis.

Dweebid pulled Arathorn from the well and carried him out. “How shall we cook him? Boil or Barbecue?”

“Roast him alive!” Drivel and Dribble jumped up and down with glee.

Dweebid sat on Arathorn's face. “Make me a happy Troll and I'll see that you're dead before they cook you. Strangling's not a painful way to go, you know. I really hate listening to the screams as your skin AACHHOOO! AACHHOOO! your skin peels AACHHOOO! off AACHHOO! Jinkies! Is there a cat around here or something?”

“Brrrooow.”

“AAACCCKKK! A pussy! Kill it! Kill AAACCHHHOOO! It!”

“Brrrooow.”

Dweebid picked up a rock and through it at Friendly. It missed. “Kill it, and you can have my share of the two Elves!”

Friendly leaped off the rock shedding in Dweebid's face before running out of the camp. Drivel, Dribble, and Dimspam chased after the cat with reckless abandon. Dweebid collapsed on the ground in a sneezing fit. Dcups suspiciously stayed on guard at the entrance to the cave.

“Grife! The one with the big breasts isn't leaving. I'll have to knock her out of the way myself. Can you handle Sneezy?”

Tinwe looked at the pathetic Troll rolling on the ground. “Aye. Leave him to me.”

Jo used his flight ring to fly into the clearing and his Ultra Strength to pick up Dcups. He grabbed her by her attachments and carried her a mile away before dropping her into the treetops. Meanwhile, Tinwe advanced on foot into the clearing, his sword at the ready. Dweebid looked up to see his death staring him in the face. Tinwe swung, and the blade cut deep. But a Troll's skin is thick and Dweebid was able to get to his feet. He backed away from the Elf looking for a weapon. Tinwe slashed again, and Dweebid ran.

Jo returned to the cave and rescued the others. By now the first hint of dawn was in the east. Tinwe chased Dweebid to a cleft in the rocks. Dweebid took refuge in the chasm and fended Tinwe off with a log. Tinwe couldn't advance into the rocks, but Dweebid couldn't come out without getting cut. The sun rose.

Jo was untying Arathorn when Friendly, back in Hobbit form re-entered the camp. “Scratch three She-Trolls. They were so dumb they never saw the sun until it caught them. I expect birds will be nesting in their hair next year.”

They joined Tinwe, who still held Dweebid at bay. Inside the rock formation, Dweebid was protected from the sun, but his back was against the wall. Elladan saw how the shadows fell, and he got an idea. He whispered his plan to Elrohir who giggled in agreement. The two brothers fell to the ground and began having mutual oral sex in plain sight of Dweebid. The Troll couldn't help himself, and soon had an erection. As his Trollhood grew larger, it rose from the shadows and the sunlight caressed it. It instantly turned to stone and broke off.

Dweebid howled as his pride and joy hit the ground and smashed into pieces. In a fit or rage, he threw himself at the Elves, and was stoned with his first step.

“And that,” Tinwe told Blondie, “is how we handle Trolls where I come from.”

Brad's Story
Chapter 8
The Ice Bay of Forochel

The travelers continue northwards on their quest. Since Blondie's clothes had been ruined by Dweebid, Jo gave him his Ultra Boy costume to wear. The stretch fabric fit the young man better than the oversized leather and furs that Jo now wore. Jo found that he was becoming accustomed to wearing leather and he liked the smell and feel of it better than the 30th Century Lycra. They were far enough into the wilderness that they were unlikely to meet anyone who would question the futuristic fabric. Jo rode beside Arathorn as they crossed the moors.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Arathorn smiled a wry grin. “You just did. No, of course not. I still owe you my life, remember? Ask whatever you want.”

“Well, it's about you and Blondie. I can understand the twins doing it, they're Elves after all, and it's obvious Blondie idolizes you and would do anything to please you, but I thought you were married with a son. How is it that you adapted to an all male lifestyle so quickly?”

“Ah.” Arathorn was silent for a few moments as they rode, and Jo worried he had imposed with his question. After a while, Arathorn responded. “I'm a lot older than I look. The Dunedain no longer have the lifespan of the Numenoreans, but we still routinely live twice as long as other men. I have had a very full life, rich with experiences. Most of my years have been spent in the wilderness with other Rangers. The “male lifestyle” as you put it, it hardly a new adaptation for me. The adaptation came when my father urged me to take a bride and produce an heir. Gilraen and I have only been married for a very short time. We loved each other deeply, and I miss her, but I assure you, Blondie is not my first man.”

“Ah.” Now it was Jo's turn to be silent. “I see I made a hasty assumption.”

“Does it disturb you? Does your world have bans against relationships like ours?”

“Rimbor? Ha! Rimbor doesn't have bans against anything! Most of the United Planets are very lifestyle tolerant. There are one or two backwater planets where any kinds of pleasure are considered sinful, but they are few and far between. No, it doesn't disturb me. I was just confused because when we first met, I thought you were a straight arrow, and it surprised me to see you and Blondie being so…active.”

“I noticed you watching us pretty intently. Curious?”

“SNORT! Bloody Nass! No. Look, I'd never admit this to my fellow Legionnaires, but I spent a year hustling on Rimbor before I got my pilot's licence. I didn't care who paid, as long as they paid in McCauleybucks. My standard fee was 500 McCB's, with no kissing. Trust me, I've had sex with more guys than I can remember. Since I left Rimbor I've had a couple of steady girlfriends, and now that I'm a Legionnaire I don't need the money anymore. But it has been a long time since I've gotten any, if you know what I mean, and watching the four of you in heat each night hasn't made it any easier for me.”

“Perhaps you should see if Tinwe needs some comforting. I imagine he misses his wife too.”

Tinwe spurred his horse forward till he was even with Jo and Arathorn. “I heard that! Yes, I do miss Melian, but I'm not ready to break my marital vows with anyone, male or female, Elf, Dwarf, or Man. Sorry Jo.”

“Hey, I wasn't asking. I was just commenting how hard it was watching your great great times 1000 great grandkids screwing each other. Grife, what did you do, sire the whole of Middle Earth?”

“Hmm. I was a little surprised to find so many descendants myself. Melian and I only had one daughter, and she had but one son. Things must have picked up a bit after that.” Tinwe was rolling two round stones in the palm of his hand, clicking them together in a relaxing fashion.

“What are those things anyway?”

“These?” Tinwe smiled. “A couple of souvenirs from our adventure with the Trolls.”

As they traveled north, the vegetation became sparser and the nights became colder. After another two weeks of travel, Jo Nah awoke one morning to see seabirds flying over head. The next day, he could smell the sea, and the day after that, they reached Ice Bay of Forochel.

“It's big.”

“Yes. And somewhere on the bottom of the bay is Arvedui's ship, and two "palantiri."”

“Even with Ultra Vision, it will take me a while to find it. Any ideas on where to start?”

“Perhaps one of the local inhabitants would have the information we seek.”

“People live here?”

“They do indeed,” said Friendly. “I was here five summers ago and met a charming woman who lives nearby. She is descended from the chieftains of old, but lives the life of a hermit fisherwoman. She and her two hawks dwell by the bay and study the northern lights for portents. The last time I was here, she was working on a history of her people, so if anyone knows where the ship went down, it is Katahdin”

Friendly led the travelers along the shore until they came to stone cottage where a stream flowed into the bay. Two hawks circled overhead, and in the small kitchen garden was Katahdin of the North.”

“Friendly! How good to see you again! And you've brought guests! Welcome travelers to my humble abode.” Katahdin was a strong woman with flashing dark eyes. Her dark hair she wore in a bun. She wore several layers of thick woven clothing against the chill northern winds. At her feet was a pile of produce that she had harvested.

“It looks like you knew we were coming,” said Friendly, pointing toward the mixed greens.

“Yes, Ororo saw you yesterday, so I had advance warning.”

“Ororo?”

Katahdin pointed upwards towards the hawks. “Nobody comes close to my cottage without my knowledge, but when Ororo described Friendly, I knew good company was on the way. Come inside. I've prepared some cabbage soup and poached fish. You must be hungry for a decent meal after your journey.”

The party followed the snow-woman inside and were warmed by the fire. She served hot bowls of soup and a platter of fish and onions and bread. They explained the purpose of their quest and asked what lore she had of Arvedui.

“Arvedui. He spent his last winter not far from this spot. My people took him and his followers in and fed them after their disastrous battle with the Witchking. In the spring, an Elven ship arrived in the bay, and Arvedui departed on it against the wishes of our wise men. We knew the winter had not left the bay yet. The ship was capsized in a storm and went down ten leagues north-north-east of here. This information has been passed down in my family because I am descended from the daughter Arvedui sired during the long winter nights.”

“Grife,” said Ultra Boy as he grinned at Tinwe. “Another one.”

The next morning, Jo began his search. He had left his clothes on the beach and had nothing on but his flight ring and a fishing net wrapped around his waist. He flew over the approximate area where Katahdin had showed them the ship had sunk and used his Ultra Vision to scan the ocean floor. The intervening centuries had done much to destroy the ship, and there was little left to show its location. On the shore, Elladan and Elrohir reported his movements to Tinwe and Arathorn. Katahdin stood close to Blondie and shared his body heat. In truth, the Snow-woman hadn't been able to keep her eyes off the Lycra-clad blond since his arrival.

“He's found something,” said Elladan.

“He's gone beneath the waters,” agreed Elrohir.

Ultra Boy switched to invulnerability as he used his flight ring to propel him through the water. Luckily it worked almost as well underwater as it did in the air. What had caught his eye was the "palantir" that had once rested at Weathertop. Nearly six feet across, he would need to switch to Ultra Strength to carry it. He almost missed the smaller stone, the "palantir" of Annuminas. The casket in which it had resided lay rotting around it, but as he stepped on the ocean bottom, he saw the glimmer of light emanating from the stone itself. He picked up the smaller stone first, and put it in the fishing net Katahdin had given him. He re-tied the net around his waist, and switched from invulnerability to strength. Instantly, he felt the chill of northern sea. He would have to hurry.

He used his strength to hurl the stone through the waters, then switched to Ultra Speed to follow it. They broke the water together, and he switched back to strength to catch the stone and carry it back to the shore. He was having trouble with his vision, and saw the world as if through a fog. He landed a short distance from his companions and dropped the larger stone. “I've got it,” announced, and then shimmered, lost his balance and fell against the large "palantir". The large stone seemed to absorb Jo and he disappeared from view, taking the smaller stone with him. Tinwe and Arathorn raced to where Jo had stood, but there was no trace. His footprints were there, and showed where he stumbled, and then nothing.

Arathorn turned his attention to huge "palantir". “Look! In the stone!” He put his hands on it and stared. Tinwe stood behind him and looked over his shoulder. They saw Jo Nah tumbling naked through the aether. Then he was lying as still as death amidst a barren landscape of rocks. They saw two booted feet standing over Jo. The vision vanished and the lights inside the stone began to spin. “I'm feeling dizzy,”
Arathorn announced.

Arathorn started to shimmer just as Jo had. Tinwe grabbed him by the shoulders. “Get away from the stone. It seems to have strange properties!”

But Arathorn was disappearing already, and when Tinwe grabbed him he was sucked into the stone as well. The "palantir" glowed brightly then imploded out of existence. The others clapped their ears as air moved to fill the vacuum left where the stone had been.

A search of the area turned up no clues, and the next morning, Elladan and Elrohir reluctantly announced that they must return to Rivendell to give a report of these events to their father, Elrond the Half-Elven. Katahdin advised against their going, as the first storms of winter were already approaching, but the sons of Elrond were hearty and strong and feared not a thing. Friendly and Blondie decided to take Katahdin up on her offer of hospitality and agreed to winter with her and return to Bree in the spring. Katahdin smiled. Friendly was good company, and the Snow-woman could think of several uses for the handsome young innkeeper's son. As they waved farewell to the twins, she led Blondie back inside the cottage and bolted the doors against the north wind.

Brad's Story
Chapter 9
A Fistful of Something else else or Other

Jo shivered and drew the blanket closer around his shoulder. He inhaled the sweet wood smoke from the campfire and started to drift back to sleep. He had been having an erotic dream, and while he couldn't remember the details, he wanted to get back to it. He rubbed his erection against the blanket and sighed with pleasure. Blanket! Grife! Where am I?

He opened his eyes cautiously. He was lying on the ground, wrapped in a woolen blanket. He was naked, save for his flight ring. A small fire was reduced to hot coals a few feet away. On the far side of the fire he saw a pair of black cowboy boots.

“Hey Pardner! You're awake. I was gettin' a mite worried about you. That was some fall you took.” The boots walked around the fire and stood next to him. Jo followed the boots up. Tucked into the boots were a pair of black button-fly jeans. Over the jeans were black leather chaps. Tucked into the jeans was a gray shirt embroidered with red and silver roses at the shoulders. Over all the clothes was a calf-length black leather duster. Above the duster was a handsome face framed by sandy red hair and a trimmed moustache. On top of his head was a black cowboy hat. The man wore leather gauntlets on his hands. On his belt was a custom made pistol and a 12 inch serrated knife. Jo was reminded a bit of Brad's Lone Ranger costume, but where Brad wore white, the stranger wore black. He was big and muscular and looked dangerous as Hell.

“Who are you dressed up to be?” Jo asked.

“Dressed up? I don't rightly reckon I know what yer talkin' about son. They call me Kid Crowbar, but my friends just call me The Kid.”

“Okay, Kid.”

“No, not the OK Kid. He's a cattle rustler from Tucson. I'm Kid Crowbar. I work more with sheep.”

“Grife. Don't talk to me about sheep! Tucson? Does that mean I'm back on Earth?”

“You hit the ground pretty hard, if that's what you mean. Lucky thing for you I was there to bandage yer head or ya might have bled to death.”

Jo closed his eyes. His head did hurt a bit, now that he thought about it. He tried to remember what had happened. He had salvaged the "palantir" from the Ice Bay of Forochel and then…nothing. He remembered falling. Bloody Nass, I'll bet I've traveled in time again. “Hey Kid, this may seem like a dumb question but where am I? I don't remember how I got here.”

“Oh, like amnesia? I've heard of that. I knew this guy from Pennsylvania with amnesia. Turned out everybody back in Pine Valley thought he was dead, then he winds up going back there and scared the shit out of everyone. Get this! His wife had married his best friend while he was presumed dead!”

“Yes, I'm sure that must happen all the time, but where did you say we were? Tucson?”

"Hell, no! This is California! Madera County to be precise."

California. Okay, Jo thought. That was good. Or was it? They didn't install the quake stabilizers until the 25th century, and by the way this guy was dressed, Jo suspected he might be in the 23rd or 24th. “And the date?”

“Well, I don't rightly reckon I know the date. I think it's Friday.”

Grife! What a dumb fuck! “How about the year? Do you think you know what year it is?”

“Well, sure Pardner, it's 1898. Jeez, you ARE a dumb fuck, aren't ya?”

Jo laughed. “Yeah, I guess I am at that!” He put his hand to his head. There was a large bump and cut on the back of his skull. “I guess I hurt myself pretty bad. I don't remember a thing!” Secretly, Jo was aghast. 1898! Bloody Nass, they didn't even have indoor plumbing back then!

“Here, have some water. I reckon ya must have run afoul of some banditos. That would explain why yer clothes were stolen. I'm surprised they didn't take that ring of urine.”

“Excuse me?”

“That ring of youren. It looks pretty valuable. That “L” stand for yer name?”

“Uh, yeah. My name's…Lash. Jonah Lash. I think you must be right about the banditos.”

“Well, at least ya remembered yer name. Lash, huh? You got any relatives named Bart?”

“I don't think so.”

“Well, if ya amnesia ya might not remember, though Bart's a hard guy to forget. You want some food? I got some mutton stew left.”

Ugh, thought Jo. I am hungry though. Maybe some of it will be edible. What he said was, “Yes, please.”

The Kid scrounged around at the fire and pulled a small pot out of the coals. “I kept it warm for ya. I figgered you'd be hungry once ya woke up.”

Jo gingerly tried a bite. It was good. He ate a bit more. Surprisingly good. He finished he pot and wiped it clean with a hunk of hard bread the Kid gave him. He washed it down with more water, and yawned.

“How long was I out?”

“Since yesterday morning. I was takin' a bath in the crick, when I saw you tumble offa them rocks over there. I thought ya was dead at first, there was so much blood. But you was still breathin, so I stopped the bleedin; and sewed ya up good. I cleaned ya off, and brought ya over here. I didn't think ya was well enough to travel so I figgered I'd wait to see if ya was gonna live or die. Tomorrer if yer up to it, we can ride up to my cabin an you can stay there till ya get your strength back. Why don't you try to get some more sleep tonight.”

Jo lay back on the ground and looked up at the stars. He felt a long ways from home. “Thanks Kid. You're okay.”

“Now Joe, I told ya, the OK Kid is…”

“…a cattle rustler from Tucson. Right. I meant that you were one of the good guys.” Jo turned on his side and watched as the Kid spread another blanket down next to him. He took off his duster, boots and chaps, shirt and jeans. Under all his clothes, he was wearing red flannel long underwear. The Kid lay down and wrapped the blanket around him.

“It's liable to get a mite cold before dawn, and I usually use both blankets. We'll be a lot warmer is we sleep next to each other.”

“Sure. No problem.” Jo rolled over and pushed his back against the Kid. Kid Crowbar adjusted the blankets so that they overlapped. Jo closed his eyes and inhaled the mix of sweet wood smoke, stale tobacco, and cowboy sweat. As he drifted off to sleep, a thought occurred to him. “Hey buddy, why do they call you Kid Crowbar anyway?”

The Kid took Jo's hand and placed it on a large bulge halfway down his thigh. “Guess.”

Brad's Story
Chapter 10
Two Bits an Hour, No Kissing

Jo Nah woke with a crowbar of his own.

He had turned over in the night, and his erection was drilling a hole in the Kid's back. His right arm was wrapped around the Kid's waist, and his nose was pressed against the Kid's neck. Grife, I haven't been this horny since I ferried that cargo of Carggite nuns to Bgtzl. He backed away from the Kid, trying to disengage before he woke him up. Too late, because the Kid moved back with him and held his arm in place.

“Good morning Joe. Good to see you're feeling better.”

“Uh, yeah, right. Hey, I'm sorry about that, I always get a hard-on in the morning.”

“Don't worry about it. You're not the first dude that's wanted to enter my corral. You wouldn't be the first that's wanted my crowbar either. Normally I charge for that, two bits an hour, and no kissing.”

“Two bits an hour!”

“Damn right. I'm worth it too.”

Jo started laughing and couldn't stop. “Oh, I'm sure you are, Kid, I'm sure you are! Unfortunately, as you can see, I don't have a penny. I can't pay you.”

“Sheeit.You're so cute, I'd do you for free if you wanted.”

“Yeah, well, I don't think you can afford me, and I don't give freebies.”

Now it was the Kid's turn to laugh. “Wait till ya get my doctor bill. I may have to negotiate a payment plan with you.” The Kid got up and put on his jeans and boots and shirt. “I don't have any extra clothes with me, but you can wear my chaps and duster. It should keep ya warm until midday. Around "bout noontime it starts getting' mighty hot, and ya won't want the leather then.”

Jo put on the chaps and duster and stood in his bare feet. The Kid untied his horse and threw the blankets over his back Indian style. He leaped on the horses back and held out his hand for Jo. “You recollect whether you ever rode a horse before?'

Before his adventure in Middle Earth, the only horse Jo could remember seeing was Comet the Super-Horse, but with the long journey across Eriador he had gained lots of experience. “I'm sure I have.” Jo leaped up in back of Kid Crowbar and the three of them headed up the trail into the mountains. Because of the extra weight, the Kid kept a slow pace and stopped frequently. They chatted easily. Jo found he really enjoyed the Kid's good humor and company. He was slightly embarrassed that his erection never subsided the whole time they were on horseback. As it rubbed against the back of the Kid's jeans Jo became more and more aroused.

Several hours later, they descended into a cool glen with a wide creek lined with trees. In a clearing stood a small log cabin and a rustic barn. Another small building stood by itself behind the cabin. “Home sweet home,” the Kid exclaimed. He and Jo both jumped off the horse. Jo stretched his legs and the Kid led his horse to a fenced-in pasture.

The Kid opened the door to the cabin and lit a lantern. Inside it was very dark and still cool despite the midday sun. A large stone fireplace dominated one wall, while a small bed occupied the corner.

“I don't know about you, but I could use a bath.”

“Me too!”

“Great! You get the fire going, and I'll start hauling the water.”

Jo groaned to himself. For a moment he had forgotten that the Kid wouldn't have hot water or indoor plumbing. He looked at the small tub under the eaves and remembered his last bath. It had been over a month ago, at the Prancing Pony in Bree. He resigned himself to the primitive 19th century conditons and decided to make the best of things. There was no telling how long he would be trapped here. If the Time Trapper didn't come looking for him, he might be here for the rest of his life. He couldn't even be sure he was in the right Universe! At least he still had his Ultra Powers, he thought. He used his Ultra Vision to start the fire. That was the idea anyway. As he tried to activate his vision powers, it felt like someone had thrust a hot knife into his head wound. “AARRGGHH!” He fell to his knees in agony, and the room began spinning. He thought he was going to throw up.

Kid Crowbar came running back into the cabin. “Joe, what's wrong?” He knelt beside his new friend and put his arm around his shoulders.

“I don't know. I suddenly got a stabbing pain in my head. I think I better lie down.” Jo tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't hold him. The Kid picked him up and carried him over to the bed.

“Yer probably wore out from the ride. Damn, I'm a real dumb fuck for not seein how hurt ya still are. Get these clothes off and lie down. I'll take care of the bath, and if you feel better later ya can git cleaned up a bit then.”

Jo had already taken off the duster on the trip to the cabin, now the Kid pulled the chaps off, and Jo was naked again. “Hey pardner, don' worry "bout a thing. I'll take good care of ya till yer feelin better. Ya just need lots of rest and some good vittels.”

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“Aw dagnab it! You've got that amnesia back again. Don't ya remember me finding you and bringing ya back here?”

“No.” Thinking made Jo's head hurt, but no matter how hard he tried there was nothing there. “Grife, I don't even remember my own name! What's going on?”

“Well, lucky you told me your name last night. You're Jonah Lash, and ya got beat up real good by banditos and hurt your head. I thought you were getting better, but ya just collapsed on the floor and got all worse agin. I'm Kid Crowbar, and this is my cabin. I brought ya here to rest until ya feel better.”

“My head hurts.”

“Poor guy. Just take it easy. You had a tough morning, riding my horse up the mountain in bright sunlight to get here. That probably wasn't good for ya. Lie quiet now, and get some sleep. Maybe you'll feel better when ya wake up.”

“Thanks Kid. Feels funny calling you Kid. You must be ten years older than me.”

“Shhh. Be still. Get some rest.”

“Hey, why do they call you Kid Crowbar?”

The Kid looked down at the naked youth, and felt his crowbar harden. Don't do anything you'll regret later, he thought to himself. The boy can't be more than nineteen. Don't push him. “If you're a very good boy, I'll show you when you're feeling better.”

Jo Nah was already asleep. The Kid leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Sleep well, little buddy.”

The Kid left Jo on the bed, and finished hauling the bath water. Tomorrow he would ride into town and fetch Doc Martin. Heck, it wouldn't hurt to send a telegraph message to his old friend Bart as well. With a last name a Lash they were bound to be related.

Brad's Story
Chapter 11
Behind the Masks

The End of Time

“Ah, the Medusa Mask! Give it to me.”

“Stall him. Don't let him have it yet,” whispered Continuity Queen.

“Not so fast Trapper,” I think we'll hang on to this until the others get here.”

“Hmm. Very well. But be careful with it. You don't know the power you're holding in your hands.”

“You forget, I can see the future. I've seen what can be done with this mask, and I don't like it. The only reason I'm going along with this is to free Proty.”

“What's that drumming?” Superboy turned his head around but didn't see the source of the noise. It got louder, and Brad materialized, holding the spirit drum in his hands.

“I made it! Ben was right! That was fantastic, it was like walking through time!”

“Brad! What happened to Mon-el?”

Brad's smile vanished. “I'm sorry, Superboy. Mon-el was disintegrated by the energies of the Soapstone.”

“Impossible,” roared the Trapper. “He should have been able to resist its powers!”

“All I know is, one minute he was there, and the next he wasn't.” Brad remembered what the Ben from Earth AOL had told him: Mon-el wasn't dead, he was just borrowing him for a while. Brad didn't feel like explaining the three Bens to the Time Trapper, so he just kept quiet.

“Bah.” It doesn't matter. He's not important. You did capture the stone's energies, I see. Good.”

A Time Trapper who thinks Mon-el is not important? Curiouser and curiouser. Continuity Queen analyzed the Trapper's chronal signature. He's part of the pre-crisis 30th Century all right. That could make him the Controller, but his alien rating is too low. I'm going to need some help.

“Elbereth! What a ride! I feel like I've been arm-wrestling with a dragon!”

Arathorn was in worse shape than Tinwe, and fell to the ground.

“And Tinwe, you've retrieved a palantir! One of the big ones too! Excellent, you and Ultra Boy did…that's not Ultra Boy! Who is that man?”

Tinwe helped Arathorn to his feet. “Allow me to introduce Arathorn, son of Arador, Chieftain of the Dunedain of the North, Isildur's heir, and rightful owner of this stone.”

“And why is he here instead of Ultra Boy?”

“I'm not sure. The stone sucked him in, and Jo disappeared from view. We had a brief vision of him before we were pulled into the stone ourselves. We landed here, and I had hoped Jo had preceded us.”

The Trapper shrugged. Things weren't working out the way he planned, but the quests had been successful, so what did he care if a couple of heroes got lost? It actually made his job easier. He had the Seeing Stone, which apparently was even more powerful than he had imagined, he had the captured energies of the Soapstone, and he had the Medusa Mask. He had a working time bubble with a trans-dimensional widget at the controls. With these tools, he could escape his exile and return to the thirtieth century at last. He would finally get his revenge on the villains who had sent him here, and he would grind the Legion beneath his feet.

“Well done, fools. Hand over the spoils, and I'll make your deaths relatively painless.”

“Hey, you said if you helped us, you'd free Proty!”

“Boy of Steel, brains of rust.” The Trapper pressed a button on his belt and Superboy was frozen in time once more. He took a piece of kryptonite out of a shielded compartment and dropped it down Superboy's tights. “I never liked you. You always had it too easy. Now be a good boy and die.”

Tinwe drew his sword, and Arathorn notched an arrow in his bow. Brad drew his gun with the silver bullets. Tab only weapon was a hunting knife, but he pulled it out anyway.

“Don't make me laugh. I could paralyze all four of you and leave you here to rot for a million years. Play nice, and I'll leave you to eke out a miserable existence on this rock. Now, hand over the drum and the mask.”

Brad gave the robed figure the spirit catcher, and Tab handed over the mask. Arathorn held his bow steady, but Tinwe waved him to put it down, and spoke some words in Elvish. Arathorn lowered the bow.

“Smart move, Robin Hood.” The Trapper entered the time bubble and slapped the widget on the head. “Wake up, Tinhead. Re-materialize the bubble around the Palantir. No tricks this time, either.”

“Yes Sir,” the widget replied. The bubble faded and moved a few yards to the right. The palantir was now fused to the floor of the time bubble, like a large ottoman. The trapper stared into the stone, slowly banging the spirit drum until he had summoned the scene he wanted to see.

Fog obscured the tombstones on the Caribbean Island, but the two largest ones were readable.

In Memoriam
The Legion of Super-Heroes

and

Here Lies Superboy.

Two men and a woman waited among the stones. The woman had red hair and wore a dress of black and blue. On her breast was an icon of Saturn on a field of white. One of the men had white hair and wore a green tunic with sleeves and legs of red. He had two lightning bolts on his chest. The other man had dark hair and wore tights of black, blue and magenta. His emblem was five spheres across his upper chest. They laughed and gloated.

The Trapper laughed at the sight in the jewel. “Enjoy your fun. I'll be ready for you this time. All I need do is put on the mask, and I'll be able to cross the back into pre-Crisis Earth 1.” He raised the Medusa mask to his face and it wrapped itself around his head. Instead of the sense of power he expected to feel, he was suffocated by the mask as it changed form, sealing his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

“MBMLMPH!” He screamed. He clawed at the mask, desperately trying to remove it.

“That won't do you any good,” said Proty.

“MBMLMPH!”

“Yes, I was freed from your time suspension spell and I took the shape of the mask. You were so eager to get away, you didn't even realize I was missing. That was your mistake. Never underestimate the Weirdo Legionnaire!”

“mbmlmph!”

Continuity Queen opened the door to the time bubble, and the other travelers filed in for the dénouement. Continuity Queen dropped the kryptonite into the hazardous materials locker and Superboy was the last one inside, closing the door behind him. Continuity Queen unbuckled the Trapper's belt and confiscated it. “Nice piece of work! This looks like 84th Century technology!”

“We did it,” Superboy exclaimed. “We defeated the Time Trapper!”

“'Fraid not, Krypto, This imposter was never the Time Trapper. Proty, I think you can stop with the face-hugger impression. Without this belt, he's harmless.”

Proty released his asphyxiating grip on the man masquerading as the Time Trapper. “Look familiar, Supes?”

The robes fell away revealing a disheveled man in his late twenties. He wore a tattered orange tunic and skirt.

“I've never seen him before.”

“You're forgetting your Legion chronology, Proty. This Superboy is from a time period before Dynamo Boy joined the Legion.”

Tab gasped. “Dynamo Boy! I remember him! He expelled all the Legionnaires and then enlisted the Legion of Super-Villains! How did he wind up here?”

“And why is he wearing a skirt?” asked Superboy.

“Ahem.” It was the widget. “I can answer all your questions, but you'd better sit down. This could take a while.”

Proty turned to the widget in astonishment. “I know that voice! It can't be!”

“I'm afraid it can be, Proty,” said Continuity Queen. “Fellow travelers, I'd like you all to meet Tyroc.”

Brad's Story
Chapter 12
Black Male Hero

“Tyroc?!” Tab sat down in disbelief. “He was the guy from Brigadoon, right?”

“Marzal, actually. We called it the Brigadoon effect. Marzal was an island in the Bermuda Triangle. For thirty years, it would exist on earth, then spend two hundred years in a hyper-spatial dimension.”

“Like the Phantom Zone?” asked Superboy.

“Close enough, but we weren't phantoms. Marzal was as normal as any other place, it was just surrounded by hyper-space instead of real space-time. When Marzal appeared in the 30th Century, I joined the Legion for a short period, using my vocal ability to warp reality. Using those powers caused Marzal to shift back into hyperspace ahead of time, and I returned to join my people in exile. The problems began when Earth was destroyed in the closing years of the 30th Century. Even though Marzal was in hyperspace at the time, without the planet to anchor us, the island began to break apart just as Earth had. I used my power to open a gateway to normal space-time. The inhabitants of Marzal went through the gate and entered normal space. They were rescued by the UP and settled on New Earth. I had to stay behind to keep the gate open till the last Marzalian was through. I couldn't pass through the gates myself. I was trapped on the rapidly disintegrating island, and I fully expected to die there.”

Dynamo Boy groaned and opened his eyes. He looked from face to unfriendly face like Elisha Cook Jr. at the end of The Maltese Falcon. “Bloody Nass.”

Continuity Queen unfolded a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt and locked Dynamo Boy's hands behind his back. “You sit there and keep quiet. We'll decide what to do with you when we've heard the whole story.”

Tyroc continued. “This is where Vorm comes into the story, actually.”

“Vorm?”

“That's my real name,” said a despondent Dynamo Boy. “Marzal was the island where the Legion of Super-Villains tricked me into entering the defective time bubble. They lured me there with the news that they had killed the Legion, then Saturn Queen used her hypnosis to make me think my life was in danger. I tried to escape in the bubble, but it was programmed to bring me thousands of years into the future, where I landed on this desolate planet. I've been trapped here for ten years.”

“I told you to keep quiet. Do I have to gag you?”

“….No.”

“Okay Tyroc, then what happened. How did you wind up in that head?”

“Lets just say that no one ever really understood how my powers worked. The island was totally destroyed, and I was drifting alone in hyperspace. I don't know how long I was there, but I was nearly dead. That was when I became aware of a current that led to this time and place. It was like a drain in a tub, with energy flowing through it. It was too small for me to enter, but I used my vocal power to warp reality one last time. My body was converted to energy waves and I flowed into the cosmic drainpipe. It led to Vorm's time bubble. When I materialized, I no longer had a body. I had become the time bubble.”

The others sat on the contoured bench and stared at the widget, now fused to the second time bubble. It had morphed as it spoke, and Proty and Tab both recognized Tyroc's distinctive hairstyle. Tinwe and Arathorn, both coming from a society where magic was more easily accepted than technology had trouble following any of Tyroc's story. Brad imagined this was how the writers of Earth Prime felt when they had learned the characters they wrote about were real people on a parallel world. He had read Legion comics as a boy, and vaguely knew that there had been all kinds of continuity reboots like the Crisis and Zero Hour, but he was having trouble remembering which of his companions came from which variation of reality. Even Continuity Queen was taking notes, and it was his job to keep track of things like this. Surprisingly, the only one who seemed to be taking it in stride was Superboy. Continuity Queen guessed this was because Kal himself had been through so many reboots himself he was preconditioned to accept preposterous tales.

Tyroc continued his story. “It soon became clear, both Vorm and I were trapped. With my mind running the controls, I could travel make short trips through time, but always was pulled back like a rubber band. With each trip in time, the bubble altered shape, until it shrunk to the size of a human head. Meanwhile, Vorm had cobbled together a new power belt that we felt would break the time barrier for good, but I was now too small to carry him with me. Plus, we both wanted to get back to Marzal and change history. Vorm wanted to thwart the Super-Villains scheme to trap him in the future, I wanted to stop myself from using the vocal powers that would condemn Marzal to hyperspace. Unfortunately, that Marzal no longer existed. Zero Hour had wiped it out. We decided the only way to get back was to gather these three artifacts.”

“The palantir would allow Vorm to chart a course through space to where we wanted to go. The Soapstone energies could be channeled to bend time to our will. And the Medusa Mask was our only link to Earth-1. Vorm used his power belt to energize me for the trip to Simballa. Our research showed that would be the easiest place for me to hijack a time bubble. Once I had fused with Proty's bubble, I was able to cross the barriers to Middle Earth and pick up Tinwe. By rescuing him minutes before his death, I was able to avoid changing that time line. From there we went to Pine Valley. Brad had already been written off his show, so I could do whatever I wanted with him. I ditched Scott and Pluto because they were superfluous to my needs. I now had one person form each of the three universes as the artifacts I needed. I brought them back to the future, timing our penetration of the real Time Trapper's curtain for one of the Legion's failed attempts to break through. By picking up Ultra Boy, Mon-el, and Superboy, I knew we had the raw power to succeed at our quest.”

Continuity Queen looked worried. “So you and Vorm were working together the whole time?”

“We had come to an arrangement. Vorm has a lot of issues to work through, and he can be pretty ruthless, but he's not a bad guy when you get to know him. Yes, we were working together to return to Marzal. I was trying to make sure no one got hurt. I wouldn't have let him kill Superboy. That piece of kryptonite he used is a fake.”

“And what about Mon-el and Ultra Boy?”

Brad spoke for the first time. “I think Mon-el's okay. I ran into an alternate version of my cousin Ben who told me that he was borrowing him for a while.”

“Borrowing?”

“That's what he said. Actually, according to him, we're all just characters in some fan fiction story he's writing on the Internet.”

Continuity Queen shrugged. “That would explain a lot. I still think Lurking Queen is behind this whole mess, and seeing Tyroc confirms it to me. She was always trying to pull him out of limbo.”

“Why? Because there weren't any black male heroes in the Legion?”

“Don't be silly. She just wanted his costume for herself.”

Continuity Queen reviewed his notes. “Okay, I think I know what to do. Vorm, Tyroc, I'm sorry, but there's no going back to Marzal. That island was a dumb idea to start with and it's better off forgotten. Tinwe, Arathorn, both of you are supposed to be dead, so I can't send you back to Middle Earth. Krypto, I can't send you back to Earth-1 until we retrieve Ultra Boy and Mon-el. Tab, Proty, if I send you two back you'll just disappear in the Zero Hour fiasco.”

Vorm broke his promise to keep quiet. “So what are you going to do, leave us marooned here?”

“You I should leave here. I don't trust you and I'm sure you're capable of a lot of mischief. But I think ten years in this Hell is punishment enough. No, I have a better idea, if everyone else is agreeable. First, we've got Tyroc this close, lets bring him back completely. The Medusa Mask DOES hold the entire Multi-Verse, and as such it has the original template to Tyroc inside it.”

Continuity Queen placed the mask on the Tyroc-Widget. The mask fused to the head, and Tyroc morphed out of the control panel, a man of flesh and blood once more. The widget and mask remained fused to the control panel, but the widget no longer looked like Tyroc.

“What is it?”

“The Medusa Mask has melded with the original time bubble. It has no will of it's own, but it will allow you to shift this bubble between different realities. And that brings me to my idea. I'm going to charge the eight of you with a mission. I'm pretty unhappy with the current Legion of Super-Heroes, and from what I've seen, it only gets worse. I'd like you to form a new one.”

The new Legion of Super-Heroes: Proty, Brad, Tab, Tinwe, Arathorn, Superboy, Tyroc, and Vorm, all looked at Continuity Queen as if he were out of his mind.

Brad's Story
Chapter 13
Roll Call

Arathorn
Home Planet: Middle Earth, Third Age
Ranger of the North and former Chieftain of the Dunedain, Arathorn is a skilled outdoorsman. He has excellent tracking skills and is a talented swordsman. He prefers to use a bow and is a top marksman. A mortal descended from the Kings of Numenor, Arathorn is the rightful owner of the palantir and as such has the most skill at controlling it. By virtue of his Numenorean genes, he is tall (6'4”) and long -lived (at 60, he is just entering his prime). Through many generations, Arathorn is descended from his companion Tinwe and Tinwe's Queen, Melian. His clothing is vaguely reminiscent of a Robin Hood movie.

Dr. Brad
Home Planet: Earth ABC, 20th Century
Dr. Brad was one of the best doctors at Pine Valley Hospital. He fell in love with schoolteacher Mike Delaney and, after a long courtship, the two men decided to live together. Once they got their own apartment, they were hardly ever seen. On Halloween night, 1997, Brad and Mike were on their way to a party at a local restaurant/bar/coffeehouse called Holidays when a time bubble appeared in the alley behind their apartment. Brad entered the bubble to save a critically wounded Tinwe Linto and was whisked away on cross-dimensional adventure. He still wears the Lone Ranger costume he was wearing to the Halloween party, and carries a gun with real silver bullets. On one of his journeys in time he used a mystical artifact called a spirit drum to capture the chronal energies of the Soapstone.

Proty II
Home Planet: Antares, 30th Century, pre- Zero Hour
Like all Antareans, Proty II is an amorphous yellow blob with telepathy and shape-shifting abilities. Proty is unable to speak, but is so skilled at using his telepathy to communicate that most people never notice this. After the original Proty allegedly gave his life to save Lightning Lad, Chameleon Boy adopted Proty II as a replacement “pet”. The pre-Crisis Proty II was once a member of the Legion of Super-Pets and aided the Legion of Super-Heroes on many occasions. Post-crisis, Proty became a holo-vid creator and an activist for sentient equality.

Superboy
Home Planet: Krypton, 20th Century, Earth 1 Universe
Native of Krypton, raised on Earth by the Kents, Kal-el has the standard abilities of all pre-Crisis Kryptonians. Powers include Super Strength, Telescopic Vision, Heat Vision, X-Ray Vision, Microscopic Vision, Super Hearing, Super Breath, Flight, Super Speed, and Invulnerability. He can do lots of other stuff too. Frequent visitor to the 30th Century, Superboy was invited to join the original version of the LSH. At fifteen, Superboy is the youngest member of the team and is also no doubt the most recognizable.

Tab
Home Planet: Naltor, 30th Century, Post-Crisis
Tab was introduced as one of Nura Nal's “most trusted advisors”. In reality, he is her brother, Tab Nal, a member of Naltor's first family and a high level pre-cog. Apparently Nura wanted to create the illusion that she and Tab were intimate in order to make her ex-lover Thom Kallor (Star Boy) jealous. Like his sister, who holds the position of High Seer of Naltor, Tab has prophetic dreams that always come true, though not always in the way he thinks they will. Like most members of the Nal family, Tab has been genetically enhanced by Naltorian science to near physical perfection. When his adventures in time began, he had shaved his head and was dressed in Otto Orion's safari outfit. He has ditched the eye patch, but hasn't had a chance to get the wax out of his moustache.

Tinwe
Home Planet: Middle Earth, First Age
One of the First generation of Elves, Tinwe was an ambassador to the Undying Lands and has seen the light of the Two Trees with his own eyes. He later led the largest tribe of Elves from the far east to the western shores. While dwelling in the west, he met and fell in love with Melian the Maia. Together they created and ruled the forest kingdom of Doriath. Their daughter Luthien married the mortal Beren. From this union sprang the Half-Elven and the Kings of Numenor. Though they can be slain, Elves do not age as Men do; his dark hair is streaked with gray, and he appears to be in early middle-age, but he is actually several thousand years old. After a near fatal battle with treacherous Dwarves, Tinwe was saved by Brad's medical skills and Tab's 30th Century technology. He carries a black sword and wears the black armor and gray cloak given to him by his Queen.

Tyroc
Home Planet: Earth, 30th Century, pre-Crisis
Tyroc was born on the trans-dimensional island of Marzal, a descendent of escaped African slaves. It has been said that his vocal powers can alter reality, but most of the time he used them to create dimensional rifts. It is unclear just what limits there are to his powers. He wears a minimal white bikini cut tunic with a flared collar and deep décolletage held together by gold chains. He also wears cute booties and gloves.

Vorm
Home Planet: The Pirate Planetoid, 30th Century, pre-Crisis
As part of a plan to destroy the Legion of Super-Heroes, Vorm was given an amazing power-belt that allowed him to perform numerous feats of wonder. He took the name of Dynamo Boy and was inducted into the LSH. Once inside, he destroyed the Legion from within by sabotaging the other members and expelling them. Recruiting the Legion of Super-Villains as their replacements proved to be a serious error, as the LSV betrayed Vorm, destroying his power-belt and exiling him to the remote future. He has created a new power-belt that gives him various time-related abilities. Vorm has unruly black hair and wears a shapeless orange mini-dress with white piping.

With Special Guest Star Continuity Queen
Home Planet: Earth AOL, 20th Century, pre Crisis
A member of the Queen Team Auxiliary, Continuity Queen misses the old Legion a lot. He spends his time in the Desert of Crossovers, regulating DC Continuity and defending DC from the evil Lords of Fantagraphics. He has the ability to move between multiverses and alternate futures at will. He wears camouflaged spandex and carries lots of equipment on his belt.

“You want US to form a new Legion of Super-Heroes?” Tab wondered if Continuity Queen's chammies were too tight.

“Think about it. Most of you either have no world to go back to, or your world is doomed to be rebooted. I can set you up in a world without Super-Heroes where you can all use your powers for good.”

“Not all of us have powers, CQ. I'm just a doctor, nothing special.”

“Ah, but Brad, you ARE special. I can imbue you with the energies from the Soapstone, giving you the power to travel through time without a time machine. You would also be able to control the aging process, causing children to grow up overnight, keep women at childbearing age well into their fifties, all the things you used to take for granted in Pine Valley. Add those skills to you medical abilities, and you'll be a valuable asset to the team.”

Continuity Queen took the spirit drum from Brad and raised it over his head. It shimmered and expanded into a hoop of blue light that lowered over Brad's body, disappearing when it hit the floor. Brad felt bigger, more powerful than ever before.

“You mean I have the power to generate SORAS whenever I want?”

“Try it on Superboy. He needs to be older anyway, since it's probably not a good idea to have a minor hanging around with you guys.”

Brad pointed his finger at Superboy and a beam of blue light bathed the Boy of Steel. He grew six inches taller, and put on fifty pounds of muscle. His costume tried to accommodate the growth spurt but his shirt pulled out of his tights leaving three inches of hairy abs exposed. The tights themselves appeared to be stretched to the bursting point and the red trunks could no long contain the Kryptonian basket.

“Woof!” said Continuity Queen. “I'm going to have to stop calling you Krypto!”

“What did you do to me?” asked Superboy.

“I made you eighteen. Happy Birthday. Okay, cool powers. I'm in. Call me Doctor SORAS from now on.”

“Um, maybe we should stick with Doctor Brad.”

“What about me, am I Superman now?”

“Let's stick with Superboy until you're twenty-one, okay stud?”

“Are the rest of you game?”

“As long as I don't have to call myself Dream Boy.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Tyroc.

“I owe my life to Tab and Doctor Brad. If this is their will, then I support them.”

“I am firmly behind Tinwe on this matter,” said Arathorn.

“It can't be any worse than the Legion of Super-Pets.”

“What about me? Can I call myself Dynamo?”

“Ah, Vorm. You will need special attention. A Legionnaire shouldn't be dependent on devices, and I don't trust a perp like you with time-distortion abilities so this new power-belt has to go. Besides, a time stasis ray is too close to Doctor Brad's power. However, I picked up some interesting readings when I scanned you before. You already have a Super-Power.”

“I didn't think body odor counted,” mumbled Brad.

Vorm glared at Brad.

“Brad, that joke was old in the 20th century. No, think about it. Vorm was given the original power-belt and mastered its abilities in record time, easily defeating his rivals to become the Legion infiltrator. When the leader of the Pirates tried to kill him, Vorm recognized that the crown the leader was giving him was really a death sentence. And he managed to take technology far in advance from anything he was used to and make a time-stasis belt that stymied three of the most powerful Legionnaires. Vorm, you are an Adept. You have the ability to master alien technologies to your own needs. You're going to be the group's engineer. So sure, call yourself Dynamo if you want.”

“Welcome to the Legion, Dynamo!”

“Thanks Superboy. Hey, I'm sorry about that Kryptonite trick before. I'm going to have to try to curb some of my evil impulses if I'm going to be one of the good guys!”

"Don't worry folks," said Tyroc. "I'll keep an eye on my little buddy here. If he starts acting evil again I'll warp reality and turn his dick into a pussy."

Brad snorted. "How would we tell?"

“One last thing, to make this official, but we'll have to return to the Desert of Crossovers first.” Continuity Queen adjusted the controls of the time bubble and the new Legionnaires left the dismal world of the future far behind.

The bubble stopped in the middle of a four-color painted desert. The wind blew giant zeroes in great eddies around the travelers.

“Where are we?” asked Proty.

“The Desert of Crossovers. This is my home. I seldom come to this area; the memories are too painful. This is the Oasis of Zeroes. Wait here.”

Continuity Queen left the bubble and plucked several of the Zero Issues from mid-air. He returned to the bubble with an armload. One by one, he took a Zero and placed it on the ring finger of a Legionnaire. The Zero shrunk to fit the finger, emblazoned with gold letter “L” and a starburst on a black field.

“Flight Rings!”

“Yes, Superboy, new flight rings for a new Legion.” Continuity Queen choked back a sob. “ Something else else good has finally come from Zero Hour. Long Live the Legion!”

“Long Live the Legion!” The time bubble thundered with cheers. A new legend had begun.

Brad's Story
Chapter 14
Legion Tryouts

“You've got to be kidding.”

“Hey, I'm sorry Brad. It's the best I could do on short notice. I know it's kind of gaudy, but look at the positives. It's got plenty of bedrooms, a big assembly hall for meetings, a nice outdoor pool, plenty of room for Arathorn to practice his Rangering, an underground pool that should make Tinwe feel at home, Tab's happy with the California climate, and you can convert one of the guest houses to a medi-lab if you want.”

“Yeah, CQ, but Hearst Castle? It's so…”

“Catholic kitsch?”

“Right. Thanks Tyroc.”

“Well, if you can find something better, let me know. I was able to manipulate crossovers enough so that the LSH could acquire it. Luckily, no one's used it since Aztec Ace, and Eclipse has been defunct for years.”

Brad walked around the promenade and let the ocean air caress him. Arathorn and Tab were already in the Neptune Pool. Vorm was redesigning the kitchen. Brad decided he could live with it. “Okay, but I'm calling dibs on Casa del Monte.”

Continuity Queen departed for his home in the Desert of Crossovers, and the Legion settled into their new headquarters. They had decided to keep a low profile while they learned about the Earth that was to be their new home. Brad was most at ease, as Earth-A was very close to Earth ABC. Brad was startled one day to turn the TV on and find several of his old friends from Pine Valley were just actors on a show in this reality. The others laughed at Brad's dilemma but he got his revenge when he dug up copies of DC comics and The Lord of the Rings to show them. On this world, they were all fictional characters.

Superboy, Tyroc, and Tab had some minor culture shock, but after a couple of weeks they were feeling at home. Tinwe and Arathorn had the most trouble adapting. Vorm spent all his time tinkering with mail-order gadgets. Proty often took the form of some animal. He could still communicate telepathically with the others, and he felt he blended in better that way. It amused him to take the forms of Krypto, Streaky, Beppo, his old companions in the LSP.

The Earth they were on was an Earth without Super-Heroes. There had been a brief period in the early 1960's when a criminal Lawless League had threatened to take over the world before disappearing without a trace. Brad wondered how the population would react to a new generation of powered beings.

“I think,” he said at the next meeting, “that we should recruit more members before we reveal ourselves. If we're going to call ourselves the Legion, we should have at least twenty to thirty members, I think..”

“But this world doesn't have powered beings.”

“One of our major abilities is the power to travel across the multiverse. I can do it at will, and take people with me. Tyroc can open holes in reality. And our time bubble is responsive to our controls once more.”

“I think we should start by finding our lost companions.” Tinwe spoke with authority. “Jo Nah disappeared into the palantir several days ago. Mon-el is supposedly trapped on another world. If Arathorn can use the palantir to find them, I propose rescuing them from their evil fate.”

Everyone agreed to this course, and they adjourned to the time bubble.

It was night, and the bubble was dark. Arathorn sat before the jewel and concentrated on his friend Jo Nah. The colors in the jewel began to shift and move, and a scene unfolded. Proty felt like he was watching one of his holo-vid movies. The scene inside the jewel was three-dimensional, and as Proty moved around the gem, his perspective changed. There was no sound. They didn't need any.

The scene displayed before them was lit by firelight and candles. It appeared to be a stone hearth in a rustic log cabin. The floor was covered with furs. Two men appeared to be wrestling on the rugs before the hearth.

“Elbereth!” murmured a stunned Tinwe.

“Warg's blood!” exclaimed Arathorn.

“Bloody Nass!” chuckled Tab.

“Look at the size of that crowbar!” marveled Vorm.

“Jo?” whimpered a befuddled Superboy.

“Kal, I'm not sure you should be watching this,” said a protective Brad.

“Ha! You're the one that SORASed me to eighteen, Doc. Golly, Jo? Is that really him? Oh jeez, he's not going to…I mean…that can't possibly fit up his …JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH! He's doing it doggy style!”

“Lucky Jo. Looks like he's enjoying himself too. He looks good in chaps. I never knew he was gay.” Vorm's orange dress did little to hide his enjoyment of the scene.

“Hmm. I'm not surprised.” Tab spoke with the assurance of someone with secret knowledge. “I didn't want to say anything before, since the Jo I knew was so much older than this one, but after Tinya died, he made lots of trips to Naltor. He always gave the cover story that he was consoling himself with Nura, but that wasn't quite true.”

Proty guessed the punch line. “You? You and Jo were having an affair?!”

“I wouldn't call it an affair, exactly. Hot man-sex several times a night, maybe, but it wasn't an affair.”

“I don't believe it!” Superboy seemed peeved. “Am I the only Legionnaire that's still a virgin?”

The bubble got so quiet you could almost hear Kid Crowbar earning his two bits an hour.

“Well,” said Arathorn, “Jo doesn't seem to be in any immediate danger…”

“Agreed,” said Tinwe. “We know where to find him when we need him. I doubt he'd appreciate the interruption right now.”

As Arathorn let the picture fade, Brad was the only one who noticed Kid Crowbar was applying some sort of grease to his hand. It made him suddenly long for his lover, Michael. He hoped that wherever he was, Mike was having as much fun as Jo.

“Perhaps we shall have better luck with the Daxamite.”
Arathorn centered his attention on his other lost companion, Mon-el. The Jewel shimmered again, a strange sight unfolded.

“I don't fucking believe it!”

“Him too?”

“Is that him? I can't tell with that mask on. What's he supposed to be?”

“It looks like Mardi Gras to me. That's a carnival mask.”

Tab started laughing. “I don't know if that's Mon-el standing there, but the guy on his knees with gold body paint is my cousin Pluto.”

Inside the jewel, Pluto was having oral sex with a tall, handsome and muscular young man wearing silver spangles and a carnival headpiece that looked like an ox. Suddenly the standing man pulled out of Pluto's mouth and spilled all over his face. Superboy looked at the explosion with sad regret. “Yup, that's Mon-el. I'd know that penis anywhere.”

“Anybody know who the cute kid tied up on the bed is?”

Nobody had seen him before. Tinwe sighed, and signaled Arathorn to cancel the connection. “It seems Mon-el is otherwise engaged as well.”

“Hey, Arathorn. Is there a chance you can show me my other cousin, Big Scott?”

“I've never met him, so I'm not sure I can summon his image.”

“I know Scott, Arathorn. I can link with you telepathically and together we can find out what he's up too. I've got a feeling it will probably be similar to what we just saw.”

Proty and Arathorn entered into a mind link, and another scene began to form in the jewel.

“Who's the blonde with the big dick?”

Brad answered. “That's my cousin Ben. One of them anyway. I figured we'd see something like this.”

Like Proty predicted, another sex scene came alive in the bubble. Brad watched uncomfortably as his cousin Ben lowered Michael onto the saddle. The angle of view shifted as it focused on Big Scott gathering up an armload of rubber straps. Scott and Ben proceeded to secure Michael to the wooden pony. All three men looked like they were having a great time.

“I think we've seen enough.”

“Speak for yourself, Elf.”

“Vorm, shut up. It seems that not only are our two wayward Legionnaires having fun, but so are Tab's cousins and Brad's family as well. We shall have to look elsewhere for new members. Any suggestions?”

Tinwe looked at his companions. Every one of them looked like they needed a cold shower. Tinwe was highly aroused himself. He wondered if Dr. Brad would be interested in seeing some Elf-magic…

This is The End of Brad's Story, but Brad and the New Legion of Super-Heroes will return!