Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business LMB Onevision: Time Boys - Linear A Version (H.G. Wells)

September 21, 1866
Atlas House, 46 High Street, Bromley
England

“Dear God, the pain!” cried Sarah Neal. “I’d forgotten about the pain…” she added, her voice trailing off.

“You’re almost there, dear,” replied the mid-wife. “It won’t be long now…”

A former domestic servant herself, Sarah knew when she was being given an untrue pleasantry. Still, she said nothing. She had three children before this one and knew the tribulations of childbirth well. But this one felt different. This one hurt so much more. But she pushed those thoughts away as fast as she could. For nine months she had been carrying around this little bundle and it was time to get it into the world.

“Push now, dear!” said the mid-wife.

“Aaaaaaaargh!”



Downstairs, Joseph Wells paced around the shop he managed. Every time his wife screamed out, he felt a wave of nausea rise up within him. Relax now, he told himself. She’s done this before. Joseph Wells, a shopkeeper, and more famously, a professional cricketer, looked around the worn out stock of sporting goods and china in the shop for anything to distract him, but he could not find it.

“Is something wrong, father?” asked Jonathan, his eldest son.

Joseph was quick to change his demeanor. “No, no, John. I’ll just feel better when this over,” he said, as he heard his wife screaming once again.

“Father!” yelled Jonathan suddenly, causing Wells to jump. “Look outside! Up in the sky! It’s…purple?!”

Without missing a beat, the man walked over to the dirty window and what his eyes told him was something his mind could not believe, despite his great pride in being a freethinker. The sky was indeed purple. And more than that, there was lightning being fired all over the sky. And he could hear shouting. In fact…he could swear he saw men leaping from rooftop to rooftop. “John, am I going mad, or did a man just jump off of our roof?”

“No father,” replied the son. “He did not jump off. He flew.”



Outside, a shimmering violet hue expanded in the sky in every direction. At its center was a machine, about of a man that pulsated with energy. The machine was empty, as its pilot had descended below.

“I’ve got him!” yelled a booming voice, as the Legionnaire known as Power Boy flew strait forward to his target. “He will not get very far.”

“And I’ll cover his escape,” said Invisible Brainiac, flying down along the dirty 19th century streets to cover where the enemy would descend to.

“Give it up, Archduke!” yelled Power Boy. “We’ve been waiting for you to arrive here! This boy is protected by the Legion! You cannot harm him!”

In response, a low-sounding chuckle could be heard from the shadows. “Is that right?” it said, as a figure familiar to the Legionnaires stepped forward. With a long cape and trademark monocle, the Archduke of Time let his presence be known. “With the firepower you’ve brought here, I can see you’re right…for now. But funny thing about time travel. If I can’t get to Wells the day he was born, I have many other days to choose from to strike.”

“You’re wrong,” said another voice. This one was farther away, near the time machine. It spoke as if it was covered in gravel. Like it belonged firmly with the dirty 19th century streets it echoed in. Matlock, the legendary detective revealed himself. Though Invisible Brainiac looked older, Matlock’s age was always ambiguous as he aged both ways. Power Boy, of course, was immortal. “After all this time, we finally figured out how to disable the protective shields on your time machine, Archduke. All we needed was a trap to spring in order to acquire it. And as predictable as ever, you came to the one place we always knew you’d be. The Time Machine is ours.”

The Archduke’s face changed from a smug smirk into having all the blood drained out of it. “No…no…no…” he began to say. The realization of all he was losing set in. “Not the device! Bloody Liberty, no!”

“Your time is up, Archduke,” said Power Boy with a grin, and suddenly both he and Invisible Brainiac were closing on him.

And in that moment, time slowed down for everyone but the Archduke. With his time machine lost, all would be lost for him…until a third party reached out, and saved him. And suddenly he was gone.

“What in the nine hells?” said Power Boy, realizing immediately the Archduke of Time was gone.

“Shit,” said Matlock. “Cobie isn’t going to like this at all.” He looked over at the Archduke’s time machine and gave it a kick. “Well, at least we got this.”



Inside the shop, Joseph and Jonathan Wells never had a chance to see the battle—or non-battle, as it were—with the Archduke reach its conclusion. As minutes earlier, they heard a had knock at the door. Now totally overwhelmed by all that was happening, Joseph Wells ran to the door to open it. At his doorstep stood a tall, dark-haired, handsome figure in a deep blue suit, overcoat and top hat. In his hand was a cane made totally out of metal. Beyond his deep blue eyes and sharp facial features, a noticeable scar shaped like an “X” was over his left eye. He looked to be in his mid-forties.

“Dr. Desmond Cobalt, at your service,” he said, entering immediately without being asked.

“Excuse me?” said the flustered man. “What are you doing?”

“We don’t have much time, Sir,” said the doctor. “You’re wife and the child. You need to bring me to them. RIGHT NOW.” The doctor spoke with a cold, calculating authority, but something in his manner made Joseph Wells trust him. His concern was genuine, as if all that mattered in his world right now meant saving Sarah and the baby.

“This way, Doctor,” said Joseph, leading him upstairs.

Inside, Sarah was screaming and the midwife was pale white. There was blood all over the sheets and floor. They could hear no baby. Seeing them enter, the midwife looked as if she was being accused of a crime. “It…something…something has gone wrong…I don’t know…”

“Stand aside,” said the doctor, walking over to Sarah and edging the mid-wife out of his way. “Do you have a sharp tool, handy? A butcher’s knife? I need to cut the baby out with a Caesarian Section.”

“I…I…I do,” said Joseph. John, go get the old the butcher’s knife.” The boy went and did it. While he was waiting, Joseph and the midwife watched the doctor, and noticed how peculiar he was. His accent was unmistakable though impossible to say from where. Harsher than German or the Hungarian yet complex. Also, as he moved, it felt as if part of the room shifted with him. As if all the metal—nails, pans, everything—followed him around the room, pointing at him.

The boy returned with the knife. Doctor Desmond Cobalt turned to them and in a very authoritative voice said: “now all of you wait in the hallway, and I will save the woman and the boy.”

“Boy?” asked Joseph. “How can you know?”

“I know,” said the doctor with a smile. The smile made John Wells feel warm; it frightened Joseph and the midwife.

As they shut the door, they could see the doctor taking off his gloves and laying his hands down upon Sarah’s stomach. He was speaking softly now, though John Wells thought for sure he said “I’ve got you now, Bertie.”



H.G. Wells was born a happy and healthy boy. Both mother and son were fine.

1874
Bromley, England

“Damn you children!” yelled a milliner, running into the street. “That’s the second time you’ve hit my shop with your ball this week!”

“Run! Run!” shouted the kids. One boy turned back to see one of their number was some distance away from the crowd. “C’mon Bertie! There’s no time! Run!”

H.G. Wells, known as “Bertie” to his family and friends, realized his sudden peril. The milliner was nearby and if he was caught, he would catch the beating his friends were owed. He turned and ran off in the other direction. The milliner was behind him, in hot pursuit.

“Stop that boy! He kicked a ball at my store window! Stop that boy!”

Bertie ran at full speed, through the crowded streets of Bromley, which were full of the overflow of nearby Greater London. None of the passerbys paid any attention to either he or the milliner. Save one.

“This way!” came a voice, with an accent he had never heard before. “Quickly, before he sees!” it continued. Bertie turned to see an oddly dressed figure in a nearby cottage calling him over. He was dressed in brown and red, with a flowing cape and a monocle. He was the most odd looking man Bertie had ever seen. “Through here!” he called again, this time turning himself as he ran out.

Unsure of what to do, Bertie followed. Through the cottage gates, he could see it opened up into a steep hill that went downwards fast. This was one of the edges of Bromley he had never seen before. Down below was a factory with a never-ending stream of equipment, metal and devices he could not comprehend. Bertie looked around. For a moment he could not find the figure but then felt him suddenly behind him.

“Thanks Sir,” said young Wells. “It’s much appreciated. I thought I was a goner for sure.”

“Oh dear boy,” said the man with an evil smile. “You are a goner.”

And suddenly the man reached out and pushed him as hard as he could so that he went stumbling backwards into the metal and machinery below.



As he continued to fall, young Bertie was sure these moments would be his last. Below was jagged metal pointing out in all directions and wherever he landed would not feel good at all. Yet in those moment it was as if time slowed down and he could take in everything microsecond by microsecond. For instance, as he was upside, he could see the factory down below being pulled apart, as if it was opening up like the red sea. As if a great magnetic force was clearing the metal out of his way.

At last, the fall came, but it was not on any metal but just the grass. It was a hard fall with immediate pain he would never forget. His left leg, in the femur, was fractured.

But he was alive.



Bedridden for months on end, the 8 year old was restless and depressed as his friends played outside. He would do anything for a change of pace in those first few weeks. It was thus when an expected visitor came calling that Bertie was to thrilled at the surprise to see the fear in his father’s eyes.

“Bertie, you have a visitor,” said his father, entering the room. “This is Doctor Desmond Cobalt, an old…er…friend.” Entering the room, in a magnificent blue overcoat, suit and top hat, complete with metal cane, was the Doctor. He removed his hat and coat and sat next to Bertie. His hair was jet black, and his features chiseled. Though at the corner his eyes were crow’s feat that indicated he was an older man.

“Hello, Bertie,” said the doctor. “I’ve been anxious to meet you for some time.”

“You have?” asked the boy, surprised. “Why?”

“Because we’re old friends,” said the doctor with a laugh that suggested some inside joke.

“The doctor was actually there on the day you were born, Bertie,” said the father, clarifying what he thought the doctor meant.

“How did this happen, if I may ask?” said the doctor nodding toward the broken leg.

Bertie looked at his father and looked back; to a man of the doctor’s unique skill set, he knew a lie was forthcoming. “I was playing cricket with my mates.”

“Are you an avid sportsman, then?” asked the doctor.

“I guess,” said Bertie, not liking the subject. “Not now, though. Now all I can do is look out the window.”

“Ah,” said the doctor, as if he was understanding the boy’s frustration for the first time. “I can presume then, that this activity does not grow more interesting over time?”

“Quite the opposite I’m afraid,” said Bertie.

“Well then, being a doctor, I believe it’s my duty to provide a remedy.” And with that, the doctor walked back to his overcoat and pulled out a paperback book from his pocket. “And here, I believe, may be the answer.”

“A book?” asked Bertie, incredulously.

“Indeed,” replied the doctor.

“Bertie, it’s what I’ve been saying all along,” said his father. “If you can’t get out into the world right now, there are other worlds you can escape to.”

The doctor smiled widely at that. “Your father is a wise man,” he added. “Start with this one and I guaranty you, you’ll want to read others. Once your mind starts imagining things….once it starts feeling the creative juices flow…why, it can accomplish anything. And I truly mean everything Bertie. You will see that, soon enough.”

“What book do you have there, doctor?” asked the boy.

“It’s called Treasure Island. You may have heard of it. But trust me, you do not know anything about it until you’ve gone there.”

“It’s a fine book, Bertie. You’ll love it,” his father said. He was obviously pleased with this turn of events.

“Very well then,” said Bertie as if he had been outmaneuvered and felt compelled to read it. “I will read it. Is that why you came to visit me, doctor?”

“That and other reasons,” said the doctor. “When you read this book, think of me from time to time and know that the inspiration you feel from it is something I feel too when I read. And perhaps when you read other books, consider me from time to time again. I’m sure our paths will cross some time in the future…and I look forward to continuing this discussion then.”

“There is a library nearby,” said his father. “Perhaps when you visit us next time, doctor, Bertie will have read them all?”

“Perhaps one day he can even add some of his own to it,” said the doctor with a smile.

As the doctor gathered his belongings in preparation for his exit, Bertie called out to him. “Doctor! Thank you. Thank you for this.”

He smiled. “My friends call me Cobie,” he said.

1879
Bromley, England

“So there he is,” said the Legionnaire once known as Lard Lad with some awe in his voice. “Amazing to see him this young. How Time Boy interacted with us all these years has always been darn confusing. Even after having it explained to me.”

“Yes,” said Cobalt Kid. “There, he is,” he finished, not addressing the last comment Lardy had made. The two of them watched as a 13 year old H.G. Wells was walking through the streets back to his house with a pile of books in his hands. “He’s already an avid reader,” said Cobalt with some awe in his own voice. “It will not be long now before he becomes a great man. And to think, I first met him when I was 17 years old.”

“You’re not 17 anymore,” said Lardy with a smile.

Cobalt smiled back at the jab. “Don’t I know it,” he added, rubbing his sore back which was still reeling from a recent LMB battle. “Though you have to admit 44 looks good on me.”

“Yes, Cobaltus, your fine Ggrrggian breeding is paying off,” said Lardy rolling his eyes. “Your hair remains jet black. Meanwhile, I’m just thankful I have one good eye.”

“After this meeting, I promised Matlock we’d finally take down the Archduke. But I might bring Power Boy and IB for that. I believe I’ll have more pressing matters at that moment.”

“I guess that explains the steampunk suit you brought with us. You’re like a blue Sherlock Holmes or something.” The two of them laughed at that. Following this meeting, Cobalt would travel several more years backwards in time and deliver young Wells himself, though at this point he wasn’t totally sure that was how things went. Nearby the suit was a book: Treasure Island. That would be the stop after that.

“It’s time.”

“I really hope you know what you’re doing,” said Lardy, though he believed his old friend did. “If the others find out what you’re going to tell him, they’ll be pissed. Rond Vidar gave specific instructions on how to handle matters like this in time travel…”

“I never was one for RULES much…”



“Hello, Bertie,” said Cobalt with a smile on his face, as he walked through the city streets. He wore—for the first time for him—a blue suit, overcoat and top hat. And in his hand was a completely metal cane.

“Doctor!” said young H.G. Wells. “After all this time!’

Cobalt’s face showed genuine surprise. “You remember me?”

“Of course,” said Wells. “In fact, whenever I go and get a book to read, I always think of you and what you told me.”

Cobalt simply smiled for a moment, looking over the young man who would one day be a mentor to him. At last he spoke. “My friends call me—“

“—Cobie,” finished Wells. “I know. I’ve often wondered if I’d see you again, Cobie.”

“Well Bertie,” smiled Cobalt Kid, “you don’t have to wonder too much more. You’ll be seeing quite a lot of me. Care for a cup of tea?”

“I would love one.”



At the Coulthard Inn, Bertie Wells and Cobalt Kid enjoyed a hot cup of tea, escaping from the drab life of the late 19th century. After some small talk about Bertie’s life in general, Cobalt got to the point. “You’ve become an avid reader, then?”

“I have. So many worlds in these books you can visit. They are quite remarkable. If you allow yourself, you can imagine things so vast and so amazing. I’d like to be a writer myself one day.”

“I have a feeling you’d be a great one,” said Cobalt. “That ability to imagine…to create is the single greatest ability one can ever ask for. Even moreso than intelligence. For intelligence is sometimes only a tool that is best used by the creative.”

“Where are you from, Cobie?” asked Wells, at long last comfortable enough to ask the question he most wanted an answer to.

Cobalt smiled. “I will tell you. In fact, I’ll tell you anything you’d like. Even though my colleagues will be angry beyond words when they find out. I owe you that much, at least. But I will only tell you if you promise to stay true to the spirit of what we’ve been talking about. If you promise to believe. Open your mind to all possibilities.”

Bertie looked at Cobie sharply now. Though he had only met twice—once long before his first memory—there was something that instinctively told him to trust the man. Something else else in Cobie’s demeanor that suggested a genuine, true friendship, as if Cobie already had cared for Bertie all his life. “I promise,” he said.

Cobie smiled even more widely. “Tell me…have you ever wondered if you could experience events that have not yet happened? Or events that happened long ago? If you could be a traveler not just from one place to the next…but from one time to the next?”

Bertie put down his cup of tea and sat up strait. And Cobalt told him his story, and the story of the Legion of Message Board Posters.

“What you’re telling me…” said the boy, taking in all Cobalt had told him for the last thirty minutes. “…it’s so amazing. So incredible! Impossible even!” He laughed.

Cobalt found himself laughing as well. “Do you believe it? That I come from over a thousand years in the future? That I’ve met you, when you were older? That I have abilities no one in this time period does? Do you truly believe?”

Bertie looked at Cobalt with total serious. “I believe,” he said, and when he spoke the words it was if the world opened up to him. It was the single most important decision he ever made. For in that moment, deciding to believe ensured those things would happen. “I only wish…” he added, “…that I could see them too.”

Cobalt leaned in closer. “But you can see them, Bertie. I’m going to show you.”



3026
LMB Headquarters, Legion World

Young H.G. Wells stood there, overlooking the vast cityscape of Legionnopolis on Legion World. To him, who had never seen it in earlier years and therefore had no reference point, it simply looked magnificent. It was the greatest sight he’d ever seen—YET. For the last five days, he had experienced adventure in a way he never imagined possible.

He had traveled through time.

He had traveled through outer space.

He had battled alongside superheroes.

The Legionnaires, all different ages in their roster though with a core group of older members in their thirties and forties, had taken him under their wing. They were welcoming and they were warm. They treated him like he already belonged.

“It’s time, Bertie,” said Cobalt Kid, as he called out to the young man from the doorway. They were on a balcony near the top floor of LMB HQ. Within was the great hall. By Cobalt’s side was Queen Crujectra and her brother, Crusader. Both were smiling at the young man.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” he said.

“Well, do me a favor. When you go home to the 19th century. And you start to think that it didn’t actually happen. Remember that it did. And this is only the beginning. You’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Bertie nodded. And he stepped inside, to see the assembled roster of the LMB. Unknown to him, this was a major event for the Legion. Legionnaires from far off places and, yes, also times, had come to witness it. Retired members and members not seen in an age felt a curiosity they just could not resist.

For at long last, Time Boy was being inducted into the Legion of Message Board Posters.

“Raise your right hand, Time Boy…” began Cobalt.



1879
Bromley, England

Five days for Bertie; less than five seconds from when he left. Just like Cobie had told him, there came a point where he actually questioned whether it really happened. But he told himself: I believe. And soon, the Legionnaires came back for him again.

Sometimes late at night, Bertie would consider telling some of these adventures to others. But he realized even if he were writing fiction, he’d have to scale it down. Because his true adventures were simply too grandiose. And sometimes late at night, he also thought about something else Cobie had told him. Something else else the rest of the LMB did not realize he knew. He remembered the conversation clearly:

“Cobie, you told me you’d tell me anything, right?”

“I did.”

“Tell me…on all of these adventures…with the danger…will I be killed? Do I die like so many of your friends in the Hall of Fallen Heroes?”

Cobalt had looked at him with a tender look that was warm but strangely, not very sad. “You do, Bertie,” he said quietly.

1880,
The National School at Wookey
Somerset, England

The teenager known as H.G. Wells moved closer to the windowsill to make sure he was getting enough sunlight to see the pages of the book he was reading; the sun was going down fast and soon he would have to use candlelight. He was totally infatuated with the book he was reading: The Odyssey. It was because of this that for a moment he did not realize the familiar statuette on his nightstand was blinking its odd red, blue and yellow lights. For a moment he considered it for what it was: a statuette of an older man side by side with an odd futuristic device; the man and the machine were both situated on top of an oversized ring with the letters “LMB” imprinted on them. The blinking came from technology that was far advanced from anything in the 19th century. He never told a soul about the signal device despite often wondering what they would say.

“All clear on my end,” he spoke aloud. “The is Time Boy reporting.”

“Time Boy, excellent,” replied the familiar voice of Cobalt Kid. “We have another mission we could use your help with,” he added. “That is…if you have the time to spare.” Still in awe of the last year’s events, Wells reveled in the pun—a reaction would eventually become opposite, over time.

Wells immediately began changing into his official Legionnaire uniform. By now he had gotten to know the drill; this would be his 8th adventure with the Legion of Message Board Posters in the far future. He wondered if there would ever reach a point where he would not be able to keep count any more? With each adventure he learned more and more about being an explorer and “superhero”, a term commonly used by his colleagues though one he admitted to still not quite understanding completely. “I’m ready, Cobie,” he finished.

“Then let’s go, Bertie” said Cobalt Kid, who was floating outside of his window. For a moment Wells considered yelling at his mentor that he could be sign in broad daylight but then let himself again revel in the adventure and simply jumped out the window into his friends arms, who flew at top speed to the time traveling device.



2027
LMB Headquarters, Legion World

“Is it just the three of us then?” asked Time Boy, as he looked at both Cobalt Kid and Matlock. Usually the missions he went on with the Legionnaires had 5 or 6 members; it had been common enough where he thought it was protocol.

“Yes, this time it is,” replied Cobalt. “This is a very different mission than what we’ve done so far. I’ve asked Matt to come along as he always lends a certain perspective to things.”

Time Boy had met Matlock a few times but had not really talked to him much. There was something unnerving about Matlock. As if he could look you up and down and immediately know everything he needed to know about you. Matlock appeared to be about 21 years of age, not much older than Time Boy. “Was Cobie your mentor too, Matt?” he asked.

Both of them started laughing heartily. “Not quite,” said Matlock, looking at Cobie with a rye smile.

“The opposite, in fact,” said Cobalt. “Matt was one of my great mentors.” He said the words with great affection and sincerity.

“And then partners,” added Matlock, also meaning every word. “The way I age is…complex. You see, when I use my powers, I actually age backwards. So for a very, very long time, I’ve been aging backwards and forwards intermittently.”

“We’re not quite sure how old Matt is,” said Cobie, giving his friend a half-smile, half-quizzical look. “But we know by the way he acts that he has to be somewhat ancient.” They all laughed at that. Cobalt then nodded back towards the Time Machine which they used to travel to the 31st century. “We’re heading back in there, Bertie,” he said. In a split second, his voice took a much more serious tone.

“We are? You mean, we’re traveling through time again?” Time Boy suddenly found himself very excited thinking of the implications. “But to where? I…I never considered using it as such…”

Matlock smiled at the young LMBer. “Well, consider it again. And when you have some more time on your hands, consider it long and hard. Because that is precisely what we’re doing.”

Cobalt led them back towards the Time Machine. Though it appeared very small from the outside—barely big enough to hold a person with room leftover—inside was a different story. Through advanced tesseract technology, the inside could comfortably hold at least two dozen, and likely more if one knew how to work its controls. “It’s time Bertie for you to learn how to pilot this machine,” said Cobalt, to Wells awe. “And not only that, but how it actually works in case you find yourself having to make changes on the fly, or Engine Joe forbid, have to fix it while you’re stranded.”

Time Boy sudden felt very overwhelmed, and it showed. Matlock now spoke up: “once you begin using it, it’s going to feel more natural to you than anything you’ve ever done in your life. Trust me on that,” he added firmly.

“I…I never really thought about it before…” said Time Boy, “but…isn’t time travel dangerous? I mean, can’t it do serious damage to…well, everything? What if something is changed?”

Cobalt smiled back warmly. “All questions every Legionnaire has asked himself many times over. I will explain the rules of time travel to you as Rond Vidar explained them to us. Rond spent his entire life understanding the nature of time, and we have adhered to his rules ever since. For the most part,” he added to himself. Matlock laughed at that, as if it was a private inside joke. “First: you cannot go back and change time. Whatever happened, happened. That is rule #1. And we have met—and battled—many who have tried to do otherwise.”

“So then we can essentially do nothing?” said Wells, who was very intelligent and caught on immediately.

“Not quite,” replied Cobalt. “We can do anything. But what we do when we travel in time…it’s already happened.” Cobalt smiled, again realizing how hard it was to explain. “It’s something you come to understand by doing, rather than thinking about,” he added. “Just know your actions will indeed count. You can do great things for people…and terrible things. But you cannot change the past. You can only do what has already happened, whether you realize it or not.”

Time Boy shook his head. “Yes, I think I’ll have to do rather than think to understand. Are there other rules?”

“Yes. And I will tell you all of them. But the other most important rule is this: to travel through time and space requires an incalculable amount of energy. And not just any energy either. Electromagnetic energy. That is the source of power to be a traveler through time and space.”

Time Boy nodded. “Your powers are based on electromagnetic energy,” he said, stating a fact.

“Yes,” said Cobalt. “It is this reason why I have always been a natural time traveler. Because I share this power source with the travel itself, I do not suffer the same terrible negative effects that many others do. I am a rare natural traveler through time.”

“As if you were meant to be,” said Wells.

“If you believe in that sort of thing,” replied Cobalt with a smile that was too forced to be genuine. “I know what you’re thinking, now. And no, you will not suffer any negative effects either. You too, are a natural time traveler.”

“But…” said Time Boy. “But why?”

“Because the night you were born, a storm raged outside of your home. And you too were affected in a strange way. But, to put it back in your own terms. Because you were meant to be.”



2023
LMB Headquarters, Legion World

Time Boy had been in the Machine many times already so he was not thrown off by its use; instead he was more fascinated by ever as he began to realize exactly how it worked. Much of it was still foreign to him, but with each continued use, he would come to know the Machine as if it was his true home. Cobalt Kid and Matlock took him back five years earlier in their own time and they remained on Legion World. This first mission would be one of the easiest, he said.

Unknown to Wells in this moment, this first mission would create a lifetime rival. “This is not the first time we met him, but it’s the first time he officially attacked us,” he said.

“Yes,” said Matlock. “After numerous reviews of the footage and piecing together what we know, this is indeed the first time he ever gathered the courage to begin his crusade against us. Just like you, he is only fourteen.”

“Who?” said Time Boy.

“The Archduke of Time,” said Cobalt Kid. “He is one of the Legion’s greatest and most recurring enemies. He has battled us throughout our careers though we have always triumphed in the end. When we were younger, he was older. Now that we’re older, he’s younger.”

“What is that?” said Time Boy.

“Because he battled us for a long, long time before it dawned on him that it would be far easier to beat us when we were first starting out. It’s as simple as that.” As Cobalt Kid spoke the words, Matlock looked at him funny. And Time Boy knew instantly there was indeed more to it than that.

In 2023, the Archduke of Time attacked Legion headquarters directly. Though he was still inexperienced and green, the attack came as such a complete shock by its brashness that it caught the LMB off guard. Those on duty were frozen by the device on the Time Machine that could freeze you in time & space. The Archduke, in a matter of seconds, had succeeded in capturing LMB Headquarters.

It was at that moment, that Time Boy came to the rescue, saving the Legion by surprising the Archduke, beating him in a fistfight and turning off the device. Afraid to be captured or lose his machine, the Archduke of Time retreated back into the timestream. More achy over a sore jaw than anything, Time Boy was just glad the LMBer known as Paladin had taught him how to fight. That changed when to his surprise, the Legionnaires, which included Jerry and Ram Boy, were thrilled to see him, and offered him big hugs.

Jerry even said I’ve never seen you this young before!. Still nervous, Time Boy said he was glad to help, and nervously went back to Cobalt and Matlock.

They hugged and cheered for him, celebrating as if the universe had been saved. Time Boy had just completed a mission on his own.



2028
LMB Headquarters, Legion World

“Cobie,” said Time Boy, at last calming down as the adrenaline subsided and beginning to question what he just experienced. “The Archduke’s time machine. It’s…the same as this one. Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Cobalt. “It is indeed the same machine. There is only one Machine such as this throughout history…in either direction.”

“The Archduke…why would he attack? He seemed so angry and full of rage. But he also seemed like he barely understood why he was doing what he was doing.”

“He doesn’t understand,” said Cobalt. “And that is why I want to make sure you do understand. The Archduke has been manipulated all his life—even by his own self. All he knows is he wants to destroy the LMB, and other forces have been happy to supply him with the means.”

“But why does he want to destroy you?”

“Because, he’s my son,” said Cobalt. And as he spoke the words, a clear pain was in his voice. Decades earlier, he would use everything ounce of will to hide that pain. But no longer—now he let it show. “I never was able to meet him until he was a teenager and well set on his path. Those other forces had a different idea. But he hated me—all of us really—nonetheless. At the end of the day, the Archduke had an emptiness in his soul because he feels abandoned. And he could never fill that hole.”

“I think he hates me too, now,” said Wells.

“He does indeed,” said Cobalt. “But that’s okay. After you meet him a few more times, you’ll realize it’s no great loss.”



The subsequent adventures with the LMB were similar and Time Boy realized his interactions with the Legion had forever shifted. Though Cobalt Kid was always with him, and usually Matlock too, his adventures never really continued in 3028 as he thought they would. Instead, they were always throughout time.

For seven adventures in a row, Cobalt Kid took Time Boy to different points in LMB history where the Archduke of Time attacked the LMB. And in each instance, Time Boy arrived and saved them. Sometimes in the knick of time for a quick battle. Sometimes it would be far more complex, and would take days or longer until the case was solved.

Every one of these adventures was after his first battle with the Archduke from the Archduke’s perspective…yet they were all out of order. To Time Boy, they were linear; to the Archduke, first he was 19 years old, then 27, then 15, then 18, and then 22. It was incredibly difficult to wrap his mind around…until it wasn’t. Until he began to understand the nature of time travel better than most anyone else.

Throughout each mission, Cobalt acted as more than just a mentor. He had taken on an almost secondary father figure role. Wells loved Cobalt for his understanding, his patience and his trust. For his willingness to believe in him and offer him this chance. The irony of his arch-rival being Cobalt’s actual son was never lost on any of them.

And then suddenly, the adventures changed again.



2028
LMB Headquarters, Legion World

“Well Time Boy, you’ve racked up quite a number of completed LMB missions in a relatively short period,” said Cobalt Kid. “You should be very proud.”

“I am, Cobie,” said Time Boy. “I appreciate you believing in me to complete them. I have to say, I’ve come to rather enjoy the time travel. Once you start to incorporate your own internal logic to it, it stops being so complex. It’s almost like a painting, rather than a calculation.”

“Indeed,” said Cobalt. “As I told you years earlier…only a vivid imagination could understand the intricacies of time travel. Well, not quite in those words,” he added, smiling.

They were quite for a second. “Tell me, then Cobie. Why are you so sad? You’ve been quite dower this entire mission. Is something wrong? Did I do anything wrong?”

“No, dear boy, not at all,” said Cobalt. “Quite the opposite in fact. You’ve proven to be a prodigal son, though why I never thought otherwise is laughable now. I admit I’m a bit sad…because…well, you’ve graduated.”

“Graduated?” Time Boy was more than perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this stage of your education is done with. In fact, all the education you’ll get hereafter will be the one your provide yourself.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” said Wells. Though he was beginning to understand, and his eyes burned with the tears that were forming there.

“You now know enough to be a premiere time traveler. Almost no other individuals can say that…anywhen. You also are keenly aware of a major problem in LMB history: the Archduke of Time. What you do not yet quite realize is while you’ve seen him attack us almost a dozen times, is that there is at least three more dozen beyond that. Scattered all over our history. Perhaps several more in the future I am not aware of. We need you to be there to stop him. And unfortunately, I can’t be there with you.”

Time Boy was very quiet and said nothing.

“And then there is the idea that the Archduke can come and kill us when we’re infants. That he can come and strangle us when we’re children. That he can get us when we never expected him coming because we did not know yet he even existed. He could attack us at any of those times.”

“Why doesn’t he?” said Time Boy.

“Because you’re there to stop him.”

The words sunk hard into him, as if beaten down by a hammer into his brain.

“Do you understand your mission now?”

Time Boy remained quiet and then spoke. “Yes,” he said. “But…is that all there is? Battling the Archduke of Time?”

Cobalt smiled. “Not even in the slightest. You’ll have many adventures beyond that, most having nothing to do with the Archduke. You’ll see places you never dreamed of. You’ll have romances that you’ll never forget. You’ll become friends with people who will be old men you’re young and young men when you’re old. You’ll experience the world in a way that no one has ever before. And it will be wonderful. And back home, in your true time? That will be wonderful too—you wait and see. Don’t be sad, Bertie, because this is a beautiful thing.”

Bertie now let the tears fall down his face. “W-will I see you again?”

Cobalt leaned forward now, and let his own tears fall. “Of course you will. Though sometimes, you will not recognize me. And sometimes you’ll find me insufferable. In fact, let me tell you now that when you work with the younger me to always be aware of my incessant plotting and ulterior motives. But know that I’ve always worked towards a greater goal.” Cobalt paused now, focusing on the moment once more. “Bertie, know that I love you. And I know you’re going to be something great. Because I’ve already seen it.”

“I love you too, Cobie. I…I hope I’ll see the you you again. The one you are now.”

“That is up to you, Bertie. I hope so too. Now good luck, Legionnaire. Sweet ass sweet.”

1877
Oklahoma Territory, United States, Earth
H.G. Wells is 15

“How in the world did you get your animal to listen to you?!” yelled Eryk Davis Ester. “Or did I happen to get the ornery, mean one?”

“Probably,” said Lash Lad flashing a big grin. “Or maybe your nelly cap sticks out even worse than usual in the Old West. Whatever the case, saddle up, pard! YEE-HAW!”

Time Boy laughed heartily as he fired his guns at the band of desperados the Archduke of Time had assembled to poison Earth’s water supply in the Old West. “So what year are you guys from again?” he asked as he fired back.

“3012,” replied Rickshaw, who pulled out his trademark shotgun and began walking right into the fray. “Though this baby works in any old time.”




1627
Paris, France, Earth
H.G. Wells is 16

“D'Artagnan! Quickly! Throw me your rapier!” yelled Time Boy, as he leapt from the staircase onto the chandelier and then flew across the room. All around him the battle raged: musketeers, Legionnaires and the Archduke of Time’s Mongol Horde.

“You fight with a sword pretty good, no?” said D’Artagnan with a smile.

“I was taught by the best,” said Time Boy, recalling his old sword-fighting teacher.

“And your friends?”

“You don’t want to know…” laughed Time Boy, deciding that an explanation on how a team of superheroes from the year 3018 ended up backwards 17th century France was a story that could wait.



2185
Mars
H.G. Wells is 18

“For as long as I live, Dejah,” he said with emotion filling his every word, “I’ll never forget you until my dying day. I love you. And I’ll always love you.”

“And I, you, Traveler,” she replied. “Now let’s enjoy this last night together as best we can. Let’s make every second last an eternity.”



1960
Kansas City, Kansas, Earth
H.G. Wells is 19

“It’s quite an honor to meet you, Joe,” said Time Boy. Just when he thought he had run out of moments where he would feel genuine awe, he found himself surprised at always at the majesty the world can show you.

“The honor is all mine, Dr. Wells,” replied the great hero known as Engine Joe. “The Legion has told me about you before. Though whether it’s a Legion you’ve met yet or not, I can’t say.”

“I’ve learned it’s not worth trying too hard,” laughed Time Boy. “So tell me, how can I help?”

“Well, this Archduke character is intent on stopping me from re-entering the city before midnight, because…”



3010
Legionnopolis, Legion World
H.G. Wells is 20

“I think perhaps I can be of assistance, Ram Boy,” said Time Boy, leaning forward and throwing down a data file. “I have no idea if the recording technology I used can be translated to whatever recording technology you’re using in this year, but I’m confident Beethoven’s Symphony 7, specifically the 2nd movement, will solve the puzzle of what frequency is required to open up the forcefield around the Hills of Legion World.”

“Er, thanks Time Boy. It’s cool to meet you, by the way. Any idea what we’ll find once we’re in there?”

“You’ll find a man who doesn’t know why he wants something, only that he wants it. The Archduke of Time.”

“Cobie’s son? Bloody Liberty…”

“I can handle the Archduke,” replied Wells. “No need to call Cobalt Kid here, today. Lash, you and myself will take care of him and be back before tea time.”



For H.G. Wells, his teenage years were when being Time Boy was its most glamorous and its most fun. It was a period of high adventure for him which spanned the entirety of time and space. Battling alongside the LMB of all different years—usually plucking them from their own time and transporting them sometime they also were unaccustomed to, such a prehistoric Earth to stop the domestication of dinosaurs or World War I to stop the Archduke from meeting a few specific individuals, Time Boy grew from a Legionnaire with great potential to actually realizing that potential.

Cobalt had explained to him the easiest way to know when the Archduke would appear. Simply use the Time Machine itself to backtrack and learn all of the places it had been. For it was the Archduke’s time machine—at least recently. It was still unclear to Wells who created it in the first place. But Time Boy could simply revisit all the places the Archduke had visited and would often find him poised to attack—just in time for Time Boy and the LMB to stop him. Thus, two time machines would often appear, though from the two different places in the Time Machine’s own linear timeline. The Archduke had acquired it somewhere and used it most of his life until losing it on the night Wells was born; the Legion had it then for a year in 3027-3028, and then it was given to Time Boy.

These were some of the best years of Time Boy’s life. He was happy and he was reveled in the adventure. And indeed, as Cobie said he would, he made great friendships with many Legionnaires. Some claimed they loved when the “younger Wells” appeared; some claimed they loved when the “older one” did as well. Some, like Lash Lad, just went with the flow, accustomed to general craziness.

It was a happy time indeed, despite turning a teenage rival into a blood enemy whose bitterness shifted from the LMB to Wells himself.

It was a time for laughs and smiles and celebrations after hard-fought battles.

And then things got complicated.

1886
Normal School of Science
South Kensington, England

H.G. Wells felt very good about life at the moment. He was on the cusp of finishing up time of the Normal School of Science which meant his days of living the destitute life of a pupil-teacher were drawing to a close. If not for his “secret life” on the side, he was not sure he would have ever survived the constant malnourished life of being hungry, cold and tired. He thought again, as he so often did now, of those even less fortunate than he. But soon he realized he’d better hurry less someone find him with the Machine.

Truthfully, he knew, that was why he felt so good. After all these years, being Time Boy had become more than just second nature to him. It was his most comfortable role, and he enjoyed being so proficient at it. Just now, with his newest mission about to begin, he reflected on how grandiose it would be. He was traveling to the 1950’s United States of America, where he would team up with another set of recurring colleagues, the Justice Society of Message Board Posters. Years earlier, he had met the group when the Archduke of Time had tried to destroy the time stream by erasing their existence (thus setting of an even more complex chain of events), and after stopping the Archduke, they wholeheartedly invited him to join their group as an honorary member. Thus, Wells gained a second team of superhero friends, though he saw them much less—after all, their adventures did not extend beyond the decade.

It was with the JSMBP that Time Boy gained another lifelong friend, and perhaps his oddest one at that. Among their membership was the oddly named Stoopid Cat, whose personality, powerset and well, just about everything about him, was an enigma. The kicker? Time Boy was already familiar with Stoopid Cat from his adventures in the 31st Century, as Stoopid Cat was a member of the LMB! As if things could not get any odder, Time Boy found that when he spoke with Stoopid Cat, it didn’t matter what year it was, Stoopid Cat always seemed to have an understanding of what Time Boy was talking about as if he experienced time in the same way Time Boy did. Yet, there was no way that could be. Stoopid Cat, being the mischievous sort he was, would never give Time Boy even the slightest of insight either. But there was something so utterly fascinating and endearing about the cat’s grumpy and aloof demeanor that endeared him to Wells.

Time Boy prepped the Time Machine and began to travel. He again considered how complex this mission was and yet how second nature it was to him. He was bringing the 31st Century Stoopid Cat backwards in time to the 20th Century to battle alongside his old JSMBP allies…and himself. And the way Stoopid Cat talked, it was almost as if he planned on acting the role of the villain to torment his younger self, much like a cat plays with a ball of yarn or its food before it devours it. Time Boy shook his head. Silly humans indeed, he thought. More like silly felines….



September 27, 3006
Legion World,
The United Planets

“I haven’t seen a pair of those silly things on someone’s face in a long time, human,” said Stoopid Cat, laughing at Time Boy’s new pair of spectacles. Evidently, all that reading was affecting Time Boy’s eyesight. He only needed them when he was reading, or operating the Time Machine.

“It’s nice to see you too,” said Wells. “Are you ready, then? Or do we have time to say hello to some of the Legionnaires in this era? I don’t believe I’ve ventured to 3006 before. Some of these early years are still so mysterious to me.”

“You’ll experience them more when you’re older,” said Stoopid Cat matter-of-factly, breaking one of Rond Vidar’s guidelines on what to tell a time traveler. “Of course, I’m ready,” he added, walking into the Time Machine. “I’m very much looking forward to finishing this fight with myself I started a thousand years ago.”

“That…that is utterly preposterous!” said Wells with a laugh.

“Silly humans,” said Stoopid Cat. “So forgiving…”



July 1, 1956
Manhattan, New York
United States

The two arrived on Governer’s Island, where Wells knew they would be safe. “I suddenly realize that my allies may view me in a badlight for this,” he admitted. “I hope they see it as the harmless prank it is. You don’t hurt anyone too badly do you?”

Stoopid Cat rolled over and stretched out on the floor before walking out of the Machine. “Maybe,” he said.

Wells rolled his eyes.

“By the way,” said Stoopid Cat casually, “you just interrupted me during a vital LMB mission. Now that I’m not there to complete it, a young girl is going to die.”

Time Boy stopped midstep and a perplexed look came on his face. “I’ll just bring you back to where you were the moment I took you a way,” he said, letting logic dictate the answer.

“Nah,” said Stoopid Cat. “That won’t work. Someone else will have to save that piece of jailbait now.”

“But why?”

“Because.”

“Very well, then,” said Wells, still unsure to take Stoopid Cat seriously. “I will do it then. What am I to do then?”

“Beats me,” he added. “I was supposed to see Cobie or something.”

“What? Cobalt Kid?” Time Boy thought on this. During these last six years, he had very little action with Cobalt Kid. Ever since departing from the older Doctor Cobalt who was like a second father to him in his younger days, he was reluctant to interact with the younger Cobalt Kid. It just felt…too strange. And to easy to lead to disappointment.

“Then I shall travel back to 3006 and meet with Cobie, and save this girl,” said Time Boy, now outright arguing with Stoopid Cat. He was finding the entire conversation tedious since it was basically Stoopid Cat laughing in the face of his own internal logic of time travel he developed.

“Won’t work,” said Stoopid Cat, lazily looking out across the water. “That Cobie is too busy. You’ll need another time. Something else else a little later.”

“What? What do you mean? You were going to travel through time yourself to meet an older Cobie to figure out how to save this girl?”

“Who said anything about time travel? That’s your shtick.”

Now Wells stopped. “You’ve got to be the most annoying hero in the history of time!” he yelled. “What in the world are you talking about? How could you possibly be meeting with an older Cobalt Kid to save a girl in 3006? And for that matter, why in the world would you travel back in time to fight yourself to get revenge on yourself for beating you…by actually beating yourself this time?”

“I don’t like yelling, human,” said Stoopid Cat, releasing his claws.

“Oh bloody hell, why do I bother?” said Time Boy. “Fine. You go terrorize Manhattan and I’ll go visit the Cobalt Kid in, I don’t know, 3010.”



May 1, 3013
The Island, Legion World
The United Planets

In his fury, Time Boy overshot the Time Machine a few years farther than he meant to and landed in 3013. This year was totally unknown to him, but was still relatively close to 3006 so he ventured out. It was then that he realized the Time Machine did not descend to Legionnopolis as it often did, but instead was on a deserted island. How odd, he thought. Somehow this island seemed to draw the Machine to it. As if I had no choice in landing. That has never happened before when I’ve visited Legion World. Why 3013? And why here?

Before he could get answers, chaos ensued: “You! Stop what you’re doing! Who are you and what do you want?!” he heard. And all around him, he saw figures emerge from the trees. Some he recognized from myth; some he recognzed from his own adventures. Some he did not know at all.

Herakles. Orpheus. Theseus. Jason. And…Shark Lad? Eryk Davis Ester? Cobalt Kid?

“Wh-what in God’s name?” said Time Boy. “You’re the Argonauts! I recognize you from my studies! And…the LMB? What is happening here? Cobie, I’ve come to see you on an urgent matter!”

“Silence, mortal!” said Theseus. “We will not answer your questions until you’ve answered ours. Where is the Archduke? How did you enter this Island when we cannot leave? What year is it in your time?”

“I—“ began Time Boy but Cobalt Kid cut him off.

“Theseus, settle down. I can handle this.” He looked at Time Boy. Time Boy could see Cobalt had been on this Island for a long time. He looked tired and malnourished. He looked frustrated…yet that familiar spark was in his eyes that let Bertie know he could understand better than most what was happening. “Bertie,” said Cobalt, “how old are you right now?”

“I’m 20, Cobie.”

Cobalt nodded. “Then you are not the Time Boy we need. Listen to me, and listen to me closely. You have to leave this place right now. However you can. And you have to come back here—when you are an older man.”

Time Boy nodded. He was skeptical, but this was Cobie. His mentor. “How old?”

“At least 50,” said Cobalt. “Perhaps older. We are in serious trouble here. And we need your help. But not the now-you. We need the older you. I know you understand me.”

Time Boy nodded. His hands were shaking but he hid them in his pockets. “I do,” he said. He looked around at them. They all glared at him. He was sure Shark Lad would swallow him whole or Herakles would smash his brains in. No one said anything. “I’ll remember. And I’ll be back to help you.”

And with that, he re-entered his Time Machine and left.

And felt more confused than ever.



September 27, 3010
Legion World,
The United Planets

Time Boy arrived in 3010 still full of anger and confusion. Realizing this, he took a moment to calm himself down before going into the streets of Legion World. First the nonsense with Stoopid Cat and now this craziness with Ancient Greeks and the LMB. After all this time, why was nothing making sense anymore?

They had not yet built “Wells Park” in 3010 where the Time Machine generally would land. He knew that occurred sometime around 3016. So he settled for a rooftop of a famous restaurant called The Beacon. He realized 3010 was yet another year he had never visited before. He tried to recall from what he knew what was going on during this year but it was pretty sparse. The Red Bee would be returning soon at the start of 3011 but that did not occur yet. He considered taking a moment to see Sir Roy, who died during that event but choose not to—he did not know Sir Roy very well after all.

Eventually, he found an old friend walking the streets of Legion World he helped tame. “Matt! Good to see you, mate!”

Matlock smiled. He looked about 27 years old here, though as always, his age was ambiguous. To Time Boy, Matt was an old mentor friend though he did not know him well. To Matlock, Wells was one of the closest friends he ever had and a brother. Neither just did not know it yet. “Good to see you, Bertie,” he said. “You’re not one to usually stroll through the streets of Legion World. Looking for anywhere in particular?”

“Yes, actually,” he said. “I’m looking for Cobie—er, Cobalt Kid that is.”

“No problem,” said Matt. “Though these days, that usually means its something a bit nefarious you’re talking to him about…” he added. Time Boy did not like the sound of that. “He’s at his Midnight Lounge. I’ll take you over there.”

Time Boy took in the sights of a vibrant 3010 nightlife on Legion World. It was truly a cultural epicenter during this year, though Time Boy. At last they arrived at Cobalt’s lounge. He wondered in what year Cobie stopped operating it, or if it was simply destroyed.

As they parted, Matlock stopped for a moment and gave Time Boy a big hug. “It’s damn good to see you again, Bertie,” he said, meaning every word.

Time Boy was a little taken aback for a moment. “And you too, Matt,” he replied. He wondered when they would become so close. Turning around, he walked up to Cobie’s Midnight Lounge.

At the entrance, the hostess gave him a glance up and down and rolled her eyes. Evidently he was not dressed properly. “Gonna have to show another one a fast exit…” she whispered to a waitress. Both women were stunning. One was human, the other a brilliant purple skinned alien.

“Wait,” said the waitress suddenly. “I think I know who this guy is. Cobie said he’s always allowed in here and to be told immediately.”

The hostess nodded and without another word, began escorting Time Boy to the back. And past the guests, and the partying, and the laughter and shouting, they went. Through the private tables, and the private rooms, and the gambling den, and then through some sort of meeting room he did not understand, they went. And at least they found Cobalt, sitting alone, looking at some omni-files, drinking a scotch (neat). Cobalt looked up, nodded, and the hostess let Time Boy walk through the back.

“Hello, Bertie,” said Cobalt with a half-smile. “Take a seat. Drink?”

“Brandy Alexander, thanks,” said Time Boy. The moment was suddenly very surreal for him. Though he had seen Cobalt Kid many times, he had not had any one on one interaction with him for many years. Yet, that was clearly not the case with this Cobalt Kid, who was easily comfortable with him. “If that drink is still made during this era, Cobie.”

“It is,” said Cobalt, who now smiled fully. Though there was something about that smile that was unnerving. As if it was not one hundred percent genuine. “What can I help you with?” he said. “It’s not everyday that H.G. Wells walked into my establishment and sips a Brandy Alexander.” Cobalt sat back now and looked him over. He too was taking in Time Boy, and Time Boy wondered if he was searching his own memories for when they’d met before, later in Time Boy’s life.

“My request is a bit…odd, to say the least.”

“My specialty.”

Wells laughed at that, as the waitress brought him his drink. “I suppose it is,” he said. “I was just with Stoopid Cat in 1956…”

“That’s never good,” said Cobalt as an aside.

“Well, first 3006 and then 1956.”

“So two different Stoopid Cats?”

“Not exactly. You see, I brought the 3006 one to fight his 1956 self, and so, the same Stoopid Cat. But he suggested I meet you here in the future, well, his future…”

“I’m going to need another scotch at this rate,” said Cobalt, draining his glass. “But that tends to happen when Stoopid Cat is involved. Let’s skip over how the 3006 Cat would suggest you meet the 3010 me, which makes no sense.”

“Agreed,” said Time Boy, just glad this Cobie felt the same. “Anyway, there is a girl’s life at stake, you see. And because I took Stoopid Cat away from his mission, I now have to perform it. Which makes no sense because I could simply just bring him back to when I took him away so he could carry on, but he insisted that was the case. And well, now I need to know how I can save a girl’s life in 3006. I was hoping you could help me…as you so often have helped me in the past. My past.”

Cobie’s eyes lit up at that comment and in a rare moment of this period of his life, he let his guard down. He quickly reaffirmed the façade of stoicism. “This girl, did he tell you that much about her?”

“Well, no actually. Just that she is a girl. A teenager, I suspect. He called her a ‘little piece of jailbait’, which is 20th century slang for—“

“I know what it’s for,” said Cobalt Kid cutting him off. Yet again, his façade came down and Cobalt found himself surprised. “Bertie, whenever I think I know all the angles, you’ve had a knack for knocking me for a loop,” he said, refilling his glass and then leaning in further. “As odd as this sounds, I know exactly what you need to do.”

Time Boy’s mouth dropped open in total shock.

“Serena!” he yelled to the waitress. “We need some food. No, not dinner for us. A sandwich. How about peanut butter and jelly. You’re rather found of that, aren’t you, Bertie?”

“I am, actually,” said Time Boy. “It’s my favorite in the 1950’s…”

“I thought I remember that. And some milk too,” he added. “Not the crap milk we get here in the UP, but the good stuff from the Legion World Dairy Farms. Like the stuff Bertie has in the 19th Century.” The waitress rolled her eyes at this comment but said nothing. “And in a to-go bag, ASAP.” The waitress walked away.

“I’m really not following you, Cobie,” said a confused Time Boy.

“Listen up, because you’ll only understand this later. This girl you’re going to save in 3006? Her name is Lolita. She is sometimes called Jailbait Lass.”

“Lolita?” asked Time Boy, and then, suddenly realizing who he meant, said “oh, you mean Oracle!”

Not understanding the statement, Cobalt ignored it. “In 3006, on whatever day you took Stoopid Cat, she is in the middle of space starving to death. And you have to go give her some food and drink. This is going to be critical.”

Time Boy was nodded, happy to be getting some direction. “You seem very sure, Cobie,” he said.

“With Lolita? I am sure.” As he spoke, Time Boy noticed there was almost some pain in his voice at Lolita’s name being mentioned. He wondered if there was trouble between them right now. He thought the better of asking. “Bertie, listen to me,” he said. “There’s something else. You have to remind her to take Mayavale’s mushroom. She’ll understand what that means.”

Time Boy nodded. “A strange request but I shall do it. Again, very specific.”

Cobalt nodded. “Specific because it’s your destiny.” He now pushed aside his glass and the bottle of scotch. “There’s something else, too. When you finish that, I need you to do something else in 3006 for me. I need you to retrieve Matlock in 3006 and take him back to your own century.”

“What?” asked Time Boy, who sat back now. Just when things could not get any more confusing…

“You heard me. In 3006, Matlock is an infant. His powers have worked to such a degree that he is now devolved back into an infant, though his centuries old mind works fine. But he’s in real danger. You have to take him back to the 19th century for awhile, until he’s ready to come back.”

“Ready to come back? When will that be? And what do you mean take him back to the 19th century? Where will I put him if he’s a baby? Cobie, do you realize what you’re asking? Surely there are other ways this can be solved.”

“Sure there are, Bertie. But those ways won’t work. Because this is your destiny.”

“Destiny? Ha! I know you don’t believe in destiny, Cobie. You told me yourself.” Suddenly, Time Boy felt the anger from his conversation with Stoopid Cat flooding back in. “I can remember now. Remember what you said to me…be wary of my younger self. He spoke of ulterior motives and manipulations. Cobie, whatever you’re trying to do, just tell me! Why do I need to rescue Lolita? Why do I need to take Matlock to the 19th century? These are things that do not have to happen.”

“But they did happen,” said Cobalt Kid.

A silence hung there between them. At last Time Boy spoke. “When we first me, you introduced me to time travel in a way that made it feel like the ultimate freedom. And now, after all these years I can finally see you again and in five minutes you’ve reduced that freedom into the must frustrating imprisonment I ever imagined.”

The words stung Cobalt more than Time Boy could ever know. “I’m sorry, Bertie. Perhaps my approach will improve over time.”

Time Boy felt guilty suddenly over his own words. He extended his hand and put it on his shoulder. “Mine too, I hope.”

The two were quiet for a moment and another Brandy Alexander was brought over. Cobalt refilled his glass. “It’s an unwelcome feeling, isn’t it? When you think you’ve finally figured things out, only to learn its far more complicated then you imagined.”

Time Boy sipped his drink. “Indeed. I often wonder: do I do these things out of some sense of obligation to do what I’ve already done or because its my choice?”

Cobalt allowed a rare, genuine smile appear. “You do them because you are doing what is right. Because every thing we do is one more piece in an unseen battle for the fate of the world. We are fighting for something as Legionnaires, Bertie. I know it. We trust what we are doing makes a difference, even when you don’t understand how. You have some faith.”

Time Boy smiled back. “I never took you for the spiritual type, Cobie. But it suits you. Very well. I shall rescue the lovely Lolita. And I shall take on a baby Matlock as my ward in the 19th century. I don’t understand why I do these things. But I do it because I believe it will help us.”

The two clinked glasses and drank.



September 27, 3006
Deep Space somewhere along the edges of the United Planets, the Barbarian Horde and the Dark Oval

Time Boy appeared and soon found her small spaceship limping along in space. Even tired, starving and disheveled, she was beautiful. Her looks reminded him of the icon of the 2010’s, Taylor Swift, who he had a brief romance with until she wrote a song about him. He gave her the food and drink she needed ; he gave her the reminder Cobie needed him to give; and he gave her hope.



July 5, 1956
Manhattan, New York
United States

“You didn’t tell me your battle with Stoopid Cat would rage for four whole days.”

“Who can keep track of time?” said Stoopid Cat with a laugh, as he licked the wounds on his paws. “Got to see the fireworks at least. I had a good friend who was there for the original July 4th you know. A monkey—man that guy never shut up about liberty.”

Time Boy shook his head. “That’s enough. Come on, I’m not done yet.”



January 16, 3007
Legion World,
The United Planets

Legion World was in chaos as the battle raged all around them. In orbit, the assembled Legionnaires prevented the galaxies destruction, while on the planet, a group of LMB allies defended their home. In perhaps the most crucial battle ever to take place on Legion World, Time Boy played his part. Stoopid Cat and he arrived, descending to the rubble. Below, Time Boy began to search. He crawled into the debris as chaos reigned all around him. After some searching, he found who he needed to find. He scooped up the baby Matlock .

“Even for me, this is rather odd,” he said, holding the infant in his arms.

“Yeah, I’d have to agree with that comment,” said the infant child.

Hearing Matlock’s voice come from a baby startled Time Boy and caused him to jump. And suddenly they both began to laugh. “Just when I thought I had it all figured out…” said Wells.



1886
Normal School of Science
South Kensington, England

“Trust me,” said the infant Matlock, as he looked up at his caretaker. “Learning how to change a diaper is going to make you incredibly popular with the ladies. You are going to be so ahead of the game…”

“A nice sentiment,” said Time Boy, as he wiped away the newly dirtied rear end of Matlock, “though very hard to appreciate when I’m cleaning off feces on a talking baby. Dear God, why hasn’t someone invented a cleaner way to do this?”

The two of them started laughing. “What year is it again, Bertie?”

“1886, though for not much longer. Why?”

“In two years, you and I are going to solve one of the greatest mysteries of all time. We’re going to solve the Jack the Ripper murders.”

“Sure we are, Matt, sure we are,” said Time Boy, finishing up the diaper change. “Something else else tells me we’re going to be doing a lot of weird things from now on.” And suddenly, as he spoke, something dawned on him. “You know, I think I have a great idea on how to turn some of these adventures into a narrative.”

“Oh?” said Matlock, who smiled a giggle that only a baby could smile.

“For a long time, I’ve considered doing some writing. But it wasn’t until things took an even weirder turn that I remembered what it was like to not fully understand things. And in a way…that is kind of inspiring.”

“Then I suggest you put pen to paper, Time Boy. Something else else tells me you have a few good tales to tell…”

September 1, 1888
London, England

“There,” said H.G. Wells with a satisfied smile. “I believe I’ve finished it.” He stood up, and took off his spectacles to pinch the corners of his nose and massage his face. It was so tiresome yet so rewarding to write.

“You’re going to have to read it to me,” said Matlock, who was standing up, holding onto Bertie’s leg, though he soon lost his footing and fell back onto his butt. “I’m confident I’ll be walking with ease before I turn two, but I’m afraid reading is going to be a problem until I’m a bit more functional.”

Bertie laughed at the comment, though the laugh was more about the absurdity of the situation. For close to two years now, the Legionnaire known as Matlock lived with Bertie, though as a baby. Yet, even in baby form, he retained his full persona of the centuries old great detective, plus his ability to speak. “I think you’ll like this one, Matt,” said Bertie. “I’m calling it the Chronic Argonauts.”

“A time travel story?” said Matlock, with a smile. A sudden enthusiasm overwhelmed him. He, of course, knew Wells would go on to write the famous “Time Machine” story but was unaware of his earlier time travel short story which was published in 1888.”

“Believe it or not, the title of the story was inspired by events during the day I brought you home,” said Bertie. “I had the oddest experience with Cobie and what I believe were the historical Argonauts of Classical Greece. I only hope I can remember to show back up and save them when I’m in my 50’s.”

“You’ve been quite prolific,” said Matlock. “What is that, you’re fourth short story now?”

“Fifth,” said Wells. “if this one can get published too. I had one published under my pseudonym, Septimus Browne. I don’t think I’ll reuse it again. I don’t like it.”

“It sounds a bit like an LMB villain,” agreed Matt. “It’s good that you’re writing Bertie. I know you’ve been reluctant to do much…traveling these past two years and I don’t blame you. This is a good outlet for you to understand the nature of your mission better.”

Bertie felt odd thinking about the series of events in that day (days?) that totally rocked his world. It was scary, he knew, considering that his initial understanding of time travel had been so wrong. Writing was his way of dealing with it. Still, even though he was time traveling far less, he was not having any shortage of adventures with the Great Detective by his side.

“Now,” said Matlock, pushing on to more important things. “Have you seen the newspapers? This maniac terrorizing London’s East End. I believe we have a crime to solve…”

[center]****************************[/center]

April 13, 1891
London, England

Bertie looked in the mirror as he attempted to tie the bowtie. Again, he failed. “Bloody liberty…” he said, using 31st century slang.

“Here, let me, Bertie,” said Matlock, as he stood up on a chair to reach Bertie’s height. “And why so nervous? It’s not like you haven’t been chased by dinosaurs or faced down the barrel of a gun in the Old West…” At five years old, Matlock could pass for a ring bearer at Well’s wedding; but that meant they wouldn’t have much time for private conversations after this.

“I…I really hope this works out, is all,” said Wells. “Isabel is a great girl. And a proper fit. She’s my cousin, you know.”

“I, er, know,” said Matlock. He didn’t have the heart to tell him he disapproved of cousins intermarrying. “Maybe you’re looking at it too methodically, Bertie. You’ve had great love affairs before. You know that passion is the key.”

“Yes, well…perhaps on Mars…or in the jungles of the 1930’s…but here in my own century…I’m not so sure…”

“Bertie, listen to me,” said Matt. “You are an amazing person. Just be yourself and the rest will fall into place. You’re not proper in other times. Don’t try to be here.”

[center]****************************[/center]

September 1, 1894
London, England

“I’m leaving her, Matt,” said Bertie. The stress of the last few months had worn him down. “I don’t expect you to understand. You are the most patient and incredible person I know, but you’re a little too damn perfect. Maybe Cobie would understand…” He sat down, wiped away some fresh tears in face. “Isabel…she…well, I think she hates me for one thing.”

Matlock said nothing. It had been a rough three years since Bertie married his cousin. And he knew in his heart that he had everything to do with it. She simply could not understand Bertie after all that Time Boy had seen. And an 8 year old who could talk like he was hundreds of years old was the straw that broke the camels back. They tried to be discrete…but you can’t hide everything.

The worst part of it was not only was Bertie not time traveling…he wasn’t writing either.

“This girl…Jane…the other one…” said Matt. “She understands you?” Jane—whose name was really Amy Catherine Robbins—was his mistress. Though he was deeply in love with her, the stress of the affair was killing him.

“She does, Matt, I swear. I’ve even told her about it all. The adventures. You. The Time Machine. I had to tell someone! She believes me. She truly does. I…I had to tell someone…”

Matt put his hand on Bertie’s shoulder. “I know, Bertie, I know. Be who you are, Bertie. That’s what I’ve always told you. And never stop believing in yourself. Given all that you’ve seen, hasn’t that always been the most important thing?”

Bertie looked up at Matt. “You’re a great friend, Matt. I…I can’t say that enough. I’m going to marry Jane. I…I promise to be myself again…”


[center]****************************[/center]

September 1, 1895
London, England

“I have some news!” said Wells as he opened the door to their flat. His enthusiasm and happiness showed through immediately upon his entrance and both Jane and Matt stood up with a smile. Please, thought Matlock, please let it be what I think he’s going to say.

“They have agreed to publish the Time Machine,” he said with a smile.

Matt let out a loud cheer as Jane ran to Bertie and kissed him ferociously on the lips. Bertie kissed her back, and Matt took in the scene. Amazing what a year can do. Jane was truly the love of Bertie’s life, Matt realized, and having her there set things right. Bertie was writing again and just wrote the book he was most famous for. And Matt knew there was so much on the way.

“Come here, Matt,” said Bertie as he walked over and hugged him. What an odd thing, they all thought in their own way: Bertie hugged Matt and all at once he felt like a father, a son, an older brother, a younger brother. Most of all, and perhaps when taken all together, he felt like a friend. Time can create odd aspects to friendship but the friendship endures in its own way.

“I’d like to save a signed copy,” said Matlock, “for Rond Vidar.”

“Of course, Matt,” said Bertie. “We’ll have to visit him sometime soon.” Bertie felt bad saying it but thought it was a nice thing to say. They had time traveled so little lately that both knew it could be months or even years before they saw Rond again.

“Now we can solve the Ripper case,” said Matt. “I know that son of a bitch is in New York City. And I can tell you how.”

“Matt, please,” said Bertie. “Let’s take a moment to celebrate,” he said. His words were not for himself but for Jane. He always worried Jane would eventually have had enough of time travel and Jack the Rippers.

“Nonsense, Bertie,” said Jane with a smile. She held up pile of newspaper clippings. “Matt and I have been discussing how the Ripper may have sailed down to Brazil and then up the coast to Manhattan. He seems to reappear in both London and New York regularly every three years. In fact, we think we can determine when next he’ll be here…”

Bertie smiled. He was happy. Yes, he was very happy.

[center]****************************[/center]

July 5, 1901
London, England

“I’ve been published for the first time, myself,” said Matt with a smile. At fifteen years old, he was as handsome as could be and Jane knew it made the girls in the neighborhood flutter with excitement.

“Is that right?” she said coyly. She was a full nine months pregnant and though she was incredibly uncomfortable in the summer heat, she was content. “May I ask where?”

Matt smiled. “The London Times,” said Matt. “I wrote them a long letter.”

Jane let out a loud laugh. “Please tell me it was not about Jack the Ripper, or the Great War or some other crazy concept that they are lampooning…” she said.

“Not at all,” said Matt. “I wrote them a letter about Bertie.”

Jane’s face went from a laugh to a gentle smile. “You did?” she asked softly.

“His stories are becoming more and more famous for their incredible content. But you and I both know they have such a deeper meaning. I want to be sure the public doesn’t forget that. Class, world government, success based on merit, utopias and dystopias….war…humanity.”

Jane was smiling as he spoke. Her eyes were tearing up.

“I’ve seen him battle time traveling villains and I’ve seen him literally save the entire world. Yet, what I get to see now, these last few years, is his most important work. Trust me Jane. These stories he writes…they will change the world in the greatest way possible.”

Jane let a tear fall down her cheek. “Thank you, Matt,” she said. It felt incredibly gratifying to hear what he said. “We’re so lucky to have you in our family.”

“I’m the lucky one. And Bertie is so lucky to have you. You’ve given him something. Something else else he was losing, and almost lost completely. You’ve set him on the path to making him whole.” They hugged one another for a moment, as Matt thought and now I’ll finish the job.

[center]****************************[/center]

April 13, 1903
Baltimore, Maryland
United States of America

His body laid before them, withered and old. The chase had been going for 15 long years and finally…after all this time…they got him. There laid the most notorious killer of the 19th century, who would give birth to a whole new age of killers. Jack the Ripper.

Time Boy and Matlock looked down at him one more time. “I’ve learned a thing or two about detective work in this chase, Matt,” said Wells. “But I think I’ve learned more about patience than anything.”

“The world will never get the closure it deserves,” replied Matt. “But at least we know he’s gone.”

The two looked up to see a group of scrappy young men nearby watching them. In the fifteen minutes before this, they witnessed an incredible scene of detective work and then violence as Jack the Ripper was brought down at long last by the Great Detective, Matlock.

“Hey Mister,” said one kid. “Where’d you learn all that stuff? About clues and patterns and such?”

Matlock shrugged.

Time Boy, feeling great pride for his friend, answered for him. “You learn it by being tough, kid. By never giving up. By seeing things through…no matter how gruesome. That’s how you become a great detective.”

Matlock smiled at the kind words and put his hand on Bertie’s shoulder. “Let’s get back to Jane and the boys, Bertie,” he said.

And the two walked away, as a young Dashiell Hammett looked on in awe, knowing from this day forward he would be fascinated by the idea of the tough detective.

“This sense of closure, Matt,” said Bertie. “It feels good. I know it must feel better for you.”

Matlock wasn’t going to lie. “It does indeed, Bertie. I never gave up on this case because I knew solving helped me stay true to who I am.”

Bertie smiled. “You’re not subtle, you know,” he said. “But you’re right. It’s time. It’s time I start time traveling again.”

September 1, 1907
London, England
The United Kingdom

As he slipped on his revised and fine-tuned uniform, Time Boy felt a familiar rush. The anticipation caused a reawakening in him, as adrenaline began to flow. Nearby, the Time Machine hummed loudly in preparation for the journey. Looking in the mirror, he saw again how he had changed over time: a full beard on his face; cracks and crevices on his face from aging. Yet a familiar smile that he had reclaimed three years earlier made him more like his teenage self than he had been for a long time.

He felt fearless again.

Helping Matlock catch Jack the Ripper in 1903 reinstalled in him something he lost. A belief in what he was doing was the right thing. And for the first time he felt that not totally understanding that concept was okay. He had faith things the things he was doing were the right things.



June 1, 3012
Legionnopolis,
Legion World

“To be honest, this is a long time coming for me,” said Time Boy with a rye smile as he viewed his companion. “For the longest time, I’ve put off the two of us having too many interactions, other than the occasional necessary one.”

Lacing up his boots, Cobalt Kid smiled back. “A reference to some future experiences in my life with a younger you, I take it?” He stood up and looked Bertie in the eye, pausing for a moment before he lobbed back his own similar tease. “Well, I can say the same for me, as well. I’ve looked forward to having real adventures with a younger you for awhile.”

Time Boy let out a loud laugh. “Touche. So I take it the older me has some future adventures with a younger you? Fascinating. And yet…so obvious now when I think back on what the older you said…”

“And here we are, meeting somewhere in the middle. Breaking just about all of Rond Vidar’s rules of time travel, just as they are being written.”

“Ah,” said Time Boy. “So Rond Vidar arrives on Legion World around now. I’ve often wondered when that happened. I’ll have to take some time to visit him…though perhaps I’ll give him a few months to settle in.”

“You know, Bertie,” said Cobalt Kid, “after all this time, I’ve really started to enjoy this time travel craziness…”

Time Boy looked at Cobalt Kid, aged 31 years old. He saw something in him that felt very…right. “You’ve changed Cobie,” said Time Boy. “Since the last time I saw you. Which would have been a few years ago by my reckoning, perhaps four or five. You were so stressed then. Almost painfully so.”

“This last year was quite a turning point for me, I think,” he said. “We’re calling the entire experience The Lord of the Oval, believe it or not. It was a lot more than a mere adventure. I do feel better. Not always, but most of the time. I’m working on it. I’m…” he paused for a second. “I’m trying to improve.”

Time Boy smiled. “I’m glad,” he said. “Something else else tells me if you keep at it, you will.”

Cobalt laughed. “For every tease you give me, I’ll give you one right back, you know…”



June 1, 4012
Continuitia 1,
The United Galaxies

“Here we are, Bertie,” said Cobalt Kid, stepping out of the Time Machine with ease, absolutely calm in their destination. “I take it you’ve never explored the 41st Century before?”

“I haven’t,” said Time Boy, still in awe. “I figured it was time I did, especially since you’re so well acquainted with it.”

Cobalt felt the same adrenaline rush Time Boy did when he came to the 31st Century. “My colleagues are always quite shocked when I get here on my own. I think you’ll find them…quite mind-blowing, frankly. The Instant Messengers are abstract enough that even I have a hard time putting into words who they are and what they do.”

“They recruited you several years ago, correct? In your own timeline, I mean?”

“Yes,” replied Cobalt, understanding with ease what Time Boy said. “In 3006 they came backwards in time to recruit me. I’ve often wondered why they singled me out. One of them must have learned of something I did sometime in my life. Something else else heroic, too, considering they’re as lawful and good as the LMB. Or perhaps some great sacrifice I made…” he said absent-mindedly.

Time Boy looked away at that comment, not wanting his face to give anything away. Cobalt noticed but said nothing.

“Before I ask how we’re breathing in open space,” he said finally, “what are all these lights speeding by us?”

“Did I mention that in the 41st Century, there are no longer any real places…?”



June 1, 3008
Legionnopolis,
Legion World

“To be honest, this is a long time coming for us,” said Time Boy as he gave a tentative, almost concerned smile as he viewed his companion.

Lacing up his boots, Cobalt Kid did not look up as he spoke. “Oh? How so?”

Time Boy took a moment to respond, taking in his friend. To the rest of the world, the façade Cobalt put on was almost impossible to see through. Yet once you’ve spent enough time with an older version of the same man, you can see right through it. Yes, thought Bertie, [i]this is Cobie as his most manipulative and whether he knows it or not, his most frightened and angry. How terrible these years must have been for him.[i]

“Because, Cobie,” he said matter-of-factly, “your never-ending focus on the security and politics have made you a rather sour person to be around. And perhaps some old-fashioned time-traveling adventure in the 41st Century can give you something to smile about.”



June 2, 4012
Continuitia 1,
The United Galaxies

“Here we are, Bertie,” said Cobalt, nodding towards the majestic scene of illuminated space before them. “I’m not sure what you expected in your insistence in coming, but I’m sure we can find something to do.”

Time Boy smiled. “I promise, my friend, you’ll be smiling before this is over. Now, onwards to the Instant Messengers!”

“My colleagues will be quite shocked when they find out I got here on my own,” said Cobalt with some amusement.

“Nonsense,” said Time Boy. “They’re expecting us.”



September 22, 3012
Legionnopolis,
Legion World

“This should be a rather interesting meeting,” said Cobalt Kid with a grin on his face. “You each know you have similar time experiences with myself. Now you can meet someone else that enjoys the frustrating complex and nonsensical life of one who plays on the chessboard of time.”

“What is it with this guy and his addition to dramatic speeches?” said a voice that could have been out of an old noir film. “Name’s Exnihil, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine. H.G. Wells at your service, though the LMB often call me Time Boy, despite my now being in my early 40’s.”

“I gotta say, this is among the stranger acquaintances I’ve made since joining the Legion.”

“I get that a lot,” laughed Time Boy.

“I figured we were all due for a chat,” said Cobalt, as his smile faded into a serious face. A discussion on the shape of things to come.”



3000 BCE
Pre-Egypt
Earth

He approached the temple calmly, though even at this point in his life—at his most confident—his nerves were firing on all cylinders. Far behind him in the distance, the Time Machine shimmered in the bright desert sunlight. Sweat was now coming non-stop all over his body.

Finally, he saw movement ahead. At first, Time Boy was unsure what he was seeing but then realization dawned on him. It was a Siberian Tiger laying flat on the ground with its head up, as if in sphinx position. It’s eyes were transfixed on Dr. Wells as he approached.

Several feet away, Time Boy cleared his throat and spoke. “You must be Dakshin Ray,” said Time Boy.

There was no one who could ever tell if anything caught the cat by surprise, but Time Boy suspected they would. “You must be very stupid, human,” was the reply.

“I mean no disrespect nor harm,” said Time Boy. “And I only add that I’ve missed you, old friend. Knowing you, I suspect that makes sense to you whereas any other sentient would be confused. But I have not come to speak to you.”

Stoopid Cat showed no sign of confusion nor interest. He simply yawned. “Bast won’t see you.”

“I’ve not come to speak to her either. I’ve come to speak to the daughter. The pagan lass.”



May 1, 3013
The Island, Legion World
The United Planets

“I’m not quite 50, but close enough, I think,” said Time Boy as the Time Machine entered Legion World in the 3013 era. “After all this time, I remember it like yesterday. Now to find that island, and see if I can help the Legionnaires and the Argonauts. The Time War is just getting started for the Legion, but for me, I’ve waited 20 years for this!”



1911
London, England
The United Kingdom

“And that was how it went, Matt,” said Time Boy, speaking easily to Jane and Matlock in their London flat living room. “My role in Time War was subtle and known to only a few, but yet, I would think of critical importance.”

“Well, the role you know about so far. For all we know, you're carrying the LMB flag in the final battle." They all laughed at that. "You’ve had a busy few years, Bertie,” said Matlock, nodding. “I’m glad to see you had some more life in you as Time Boy still.”

“Yes,” replied Dr. Wells. “And now, I think its time for another little break. I’m tired. Losing my father took a bit of a toll on me, and even though I knew for some time how it would end for him and yet…it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know,” said Matlock, who put his hand on Bertie’s shoulder. “My being with you for all these years was an odd occurrence to say the least, but in the end, I think it worked out not only for both of us, but for the universe as a whole. Funny how that works.”

“Yes,” said Time Boy. “I’d lost faith in it for some time. But it was only when I regained that faith, that it actually started coming to pass again. Funny, indeed.”

“Matt,” said Jane, surprised. “You act as if you’re leaving us.”

“That’s because he is, Jane,” said Bertie. A sudden silence hung over them. “At 25, Matt could have rejoined the Legion anytime in the last few years. I suppose, now, that the only thing that held him up was his watching out for me.”

Matlock smiled. “That, and I enjoy your company immensely. Both of you. Don’t think of this as goodbye, as you know we’ll all see each other again.”

“Yes,” said Bertie, who let his exhaustion show. “Though I hope for both of us, it will be later that this moment. Instead of just for one of us.”

Matlock smiled at that, but said nothing. After all, only time would tell. And later that evening, Matlock returned to 3006 moments after he left.



Sitting down to write his next novel, Dr. Wells felt himself thinking about the last few years in his mind. He felt old. So much had been accomplished. But still…he wasn’t quite done. Something else else gnawed at him. Some unfinished business.

October 15, 1918
Beaufort Hospital
Bristol, England

The Great War had taken quite a toll on him. Despite his many adventures in the future, it was not some secret historical knowledge he ascertained that helped him see it coming. No. Instead, it was the obvious signs of the coming conflict once Dr. Wells learned to understand the world—and humanity—for what it was. Frightened. Greedy. Unwilling to compromise.

At first, he supported Britain’s entry in the War and opposed moves for an early peace. All those years battling tyrants and villains had shown him that the only way to stop a monster was to stand up and put it down. And he knew they were fighting for something important; his famous 1916 essay expounded the view that pacifists could not simply hand over “great blocks of the black and coloured races to the German Empire to exploit and experiment upon”. Again, his experiences in the later centuries helped him empathize with those under the yoke of imperialism.

But he could not have forseen the damage. The horror. The endless, limitless death that ensued.

It was enough to break a man. To break all men. At 52, he never felt more tired or old.



He needed to contribute in some way, yet how? Going forward in time to gather up the horrible weapons of the 27th century and use them on the enemy? No…that was only more violence and escalation. Instead, he choose to contribute in a smaller, subtle way. He visited the sick and the injured daily. And if he could give just one of them a spark of hope, that was enough. Surely I’ve learned by now, he thought, it’s not the size of the victory that counts?

It was that fateful day in Bristol that he visited the most several mental trauma cases the British army were treating. The horror was overwhelming at first, and once again he felt disheartened. It was only at the tail end of what the administrator was saying, that his ears perked up.

“…we do try to maintain as positive an environment as possible to aid the men back to their full faculties. We try to involve them in activities which - while still engaging - are of a less demanding nature. One of our greatest successes has been with the book donation program."

“Books, eh?” he said, suppressing a sudden smile forming on his lips. Of course, he thought. They always warmed my soul when I was laid up in a hospital bed all those years ago.

"Yes, we find that the act of reading benefits the patients on multiple levels. It provides the men with a distraction from their current situation - a form of escapism, if you will - while still keeping the mind both active and challenged. In fact, we have several of your books in our library available for the men."

"Oh, yes?"

"Yes, in fact, there is one young patient who has taken quite a shine to your works. He's quite inseparable from one of your novels... ah, yes... there is the boy. Corporal?"

Dr. Wells looked over as a young blonde boy looked upon his approach. Though he looked worn out by the Great War, there was an unmistakable spark in his eyes of someone with keen intelligence.

"Corporal," the administrator continued, "I would like you to meet someone. This should be quite a treat for you - but this is the man who wrote the book you are so fond of. May I present, Dr. H.G. Wells."

"W... Wells?" the looked up at Wells with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. For a moment Dr. Wells felt uncomfortable, but that faded away as it always did when he met someone who had read his work.

"Yes," Wells replied looking down at the Corporal's book. "Ah... 'The Time Machine'! One of my favorites - quite dear to my heart for several reasons. How are you finding it, lad?"

"Dr. Wells... I... " the Corporal stood up in awe, "I... you have no idea what an honor it is to meet you, sir."

"Nonsense, lad," Wells said, shaking the young man's hand, "the honor is all mine. I want to thank you for serving your nation, son. I know how difficult this war has been... for all of us." For the first time in years, Bertie was feeling very good.

The young man's eyes widened, as he began nodding. "Yes, sir. It has... but that is why you represent such a hope for us."

Wells raised an eyebrow, as the doctors began to give each other a couple worried looks. "How's that, lad?"

"Your machine, sir."

"All right, Corporal," the administrator said, "that's enough. Dr. Wells has to..."

"No..." the Corporal interrupted, "... just a moment. I know that in your book you traveled to the future, Doctor... but wouldn't a more reasonable thing to do be to travel to the past? Just think of the possibilities... think of what you could accomplish! If you were to go back... if you were to change things... why... why, you could make it so this war would never have had to happen in the first place!"

"All right, son," the administrator said, placing his hand on the Corporal's chest. "I apologize, Doctor... as I said, in the early stages, sometimes trauma cases are unable to separate the fictional aspects of..."

"No!" the Corporal lunged forward, grabbing Dr. Wells' lapels. "Dr. Wells! Just think about it... it could work! It doesn't have to be this way! Nothing has to be this way!"

"Orderlies!" The administrator called out, shouldering his way between the Corporal and Dr. Wells.

"Please... Dr. Wells!" the Corporal shouted, as two large orderlies charged into the room, taking hold of the young man's arms. He tried to break their hold, growing more violent as the pair wrestled him away from the tour group. He continued shouting, even as they pulled him thrashing out of the day room.

"Please!!! Listen to me, Doctor! It doesn't have to be this way! No more war! No more dying! No more DYING!!!.

"I am so sorry, Doctor," the administrator was saying nervously, attempting brush Dr. Wells' lapels straight. "These cases can be very unpredictable at times. I truly hadn't thought that the boy..."

As the orderlies rushed forward, Wells found himself uncharacteristically unable to react. He was being pushed backwards by the administrator out of the room, as all around them, the other patients were taking notice, with some settling into a panic. It felt as if the room was spinning. Soon Dr. Wells found himself in the hallway, and then into an administrative room.

No more DYING!!!

“My sincerest apologies, doctor,” said the administrator. “Please wait here, I must attend to this…”

Dr. Wells sat in the chair, staring at the floor. “It doesn't have to be this way!” He felt his heart pounding, and a sudden tightening in his chest. “Nothing has to be this way!" He didn’t hear the administrator leave, as he found himself breathing heavy and unable to stop. It was as if he couldn’t catch his breath. “Nothing has to be this way!". He loosened his tie, attempting to stand up, but only falling to his knees. He couldn’t even raise his head. “Dear God…” he said, trying to regain his composure. ”No more DYING!!!

…Finally, the panic attack subsided. And all he could do was cry.

He sobbed as hard as he ever had that day. He cried and he cried.



London
England

“Bertie, please. You must tell me what happened. You haven’t been yourself for days. Is it the War? It’s taken such a toll on all of us. It’s alright to allow be so upset.”

Dr. Wells sipped his brande but could not look up at his wife. Instead, he simply stared strait ahead. “Jane…” he began, but couldn’t continue. After a moment, he continued. “Jane…this horror…this Great War…” he continued, almost choosing to spit at the words Great War, “…do I not have a duty…to try to do something about it?”

Jane felt her face changing as the realization set in on what was bothering the love of her life.

“Do I not owe it to humanity…to try and stop it?”

“Bertie…” she said, sitting down next to him and putting her hands on his. Suddenly, she was crying herself. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”

“But…but why not?” he said, looking up at her. They were both crying now. “Why is it so damn unchangeable?” his voice was weak and defeated. He knew the answers already but he was hoping, in some way, Jane could tell him otherwise.

“But it is,” she said, consoling him. “This is not a burden you can carry yourself, my love. Please do not try to shoulder it.”

He was silent again for several moments. She held his hands and now he held them back—soon so firmly that he was squeezing them. His mind played out many scenarios until at last it reached its natural conclusion. “I…” he began but then stopped to regain his thoughts. “I…I have always believed what I am doing is the right thing. I’ve always had that faith.” He at last looked up into her eyes.

“Yes, dear,” she said to him. “And you must never lose it.” She met his gaze hard, holding it there. She would not let him budge until he conceded she was right.

He at last did. “Cobie taught me that, you know,” he said. “Where in the world did he ever find that mantra? With so much death and war throughout time?”

She smiled at him. “Surely you taught it to him.”

And a new realization dawned on him all at once.

October 21, 1918
London
England

“Good luck dear,” she said to him, kissing him on the cheek. “When I return, I expect you to be here in great spirits. And you can tell me the entire tale. Now please, remember. Enjoy yourself. This is a long time coming.”

He smiled back at her, and began to charge up the Time Machine. It sat in their library comfortably, as if it was not totally out of the ordinary compared to the rest of their possessions. “I will,” he replied. As Jane left, he prepared all of the tools he would be bringing. On his bookshelf was the old Time Boy costume he had worn for much of his 30’s and 40’s. Alas, it no longer fit. That was okay—from now on, when Time Boy traveled it would be in plain clothes. There was something enjoyable about that.

He had decided after his talk with Jane that it was long past time he visited Cobalt Kid. But not the Cobalt Kid he adventured with so often. Not even the Doctor Cobalt who had mentored him as a child and become a surrogate father. No. He would be visiting Cobalt Kid, the boy. The boy before he was Cobalt Kid. It was a Cobie he had always wanted to meet. And it felt right.

And then suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Ah, he thought. I must indeed actually be attending my very first meeting with Cobie, after all. For him that is. And knowing the Legionnaires, they are arriving now to see my off for this wonderful occasion. I bet Cobie himself is here with that roguish grin on his face.” With high spirits, he walked over to the door and opened it.

Before him stood a familiar figure: Iron Rat. Though only a Legionnaire for a short period of time, he made quite an impact on their early years, becoming LMB Leader three times. He was beloved by many. As Time Boy, they had met several times. “Ah, Iron Rat! How wonderful! Come in, come in…did Cobie come with you?” he asked, expecting to find other Legionnaires behind him.

"Co... Cobie?" STU followed Wells inside, quite confused about what was going on.

"Yes, I had anticipated the arrival of several of your compatriots... tonight being a somewhat momentous journey, after all. I had quite expected that Cobie would be the first to arrive. I was certain that he would want to see me off... to savor the irony of it all."

"I... I'm afraid that I'm traveling alone, Doctor."

"Bah... no need to be so formal, Iron Rat. Ah, no matter. I'm certain that the rest of your teammates will be along shortly. My apologies, I had forgotten that you always did favor a more solitary travel, didn't you? Well... shall we retire to the library? I have just laid in the coordinates and fired the old girl up."

"Doctor Wells... I... I... am sorry, but I believe there may be a misunderstanding. My name is STU and..."

Wells paused and - looking again at his guest - slapped his head lightly. He began to realize, all at once, how odd it would be for Stu to come backwards in time to see him. He started thinking of all his past interactions with Stu, and what he knew of Stu’s personal history, which was one of the more mysterious and confusing ones. "Ah... my apologies, Stu... in the evening light, I had mistaken you as hailing from a later point. I had assumed you were already in your identity of Iron Ra... ah, perhaps I've said too much. You are clearly several years younger than I had first thought. Three thousand... emmm... one, I'd wager? Ah, no matter - I shall hold my tongue, lest I accidentally say too much, eh? In any case, please... this way into the library."

STU followed Dr. Wells into the library.

The moment grew increasing awkward and Wells again tried to figure out why Iron Rat would be here. Another important aspect of Stu’s LMB career stood out: after 3010, Stu disappeared and was never seen again. Trying to lighten the mood, he spoke again. "Well... don't just stand there with your mouth agape, son... I could use your assistance with the calibration. After all this time, I'm finally doing it. I have long fancied meeting him for the first time, you know... long before he ever met me. Yes, that's right... I am planning on going to the year 3000 to meet Coba..."

"Dr. Wells! Thi... this is incredible... I..."

"Oh, come now, it's not that incredible. I had to make the journey sooner or later and... I don't know... seeing all those boys so affected by this damned war... I decided that now should be the time."

"No... you don't understand. Your... machine... Dr. Wells, you must listen. I fear you are in grave danger. I believe someone is planning on coming here to attempt to steal this machine."

Wells sighed, "The Archduke, again?" It was a familiar scenario he oft found himself in.

"The Arch... what? No, Dr. Wells... last week... you met a young man..."

"Yes... indeed you did, Dr. Wells," a third voice suddenly called out from the library door, as both Wells and STU turned to see him. Standing there - his own face marveling at the machine - was Phineas B. Fuddle.

"Who... what is the meaning of this?" Wells said gruffly, trying to understand what was happening. "Stu... is this boy one of your teammates? I don't believe I've ever... no... wait a moment... I do know you, don't I? Good lord... yes... you are that young lad, aren't you? From the hospital?" The blonde boy from the trauma ward. And all at once, H.G. Wells found his world come crashing down on him. No more DYING!!!

"Oh... indeed I am, good doctor. I am the 'young lad' to whom you apparently so readily lied. To whom you so casually denied the existence of the very thing that now stands before us."

"Phineas," STU interrupted, "Just wait a moment... Dr. Wells isn't..."

Phineas spun toward STU who - up until now - he had barely noticed. "I beg your pardon? What did you just call me? Ha, ha... it's you! You are that silent American from the hospital, aren't you? How ever did you...?" Phineas shook his head. "Bah... I haven't the time for this nonsense. Doctor, let us make this brief, shall we? I wish no harm upon you. All I wish... is to use your machine."

"Oh... is that all?" Wells scowled. Though he had no clue who Phineas was, he understood immediately the danger of the situation. And how dangerous a motivation Phineas had to do something drastic. "I have no idea how you have found my home, lad... or what you think you are accomplishing by this ambush... but I'm afraid what you suggest is quite out of the question."

Phineas grinned. "Oh, you misunderstand me, Doctor. I wasn't asking you. I was merely informing you as a matter of courtesy. I will be taking the machine. For years you have been in possession of the most startling technology ever devised by man... and what have you accomplished? Nothing! You have written storybooks of its potential - grown fat on the profits gleaned by the fictional accounts of its capabilities - when, all the while, you've had the ability to use this machine to serve mankind! It was your duty to do so!"

"Phineas..." STU raised his hand to attempt to calm him.

"Silence, fool! I have no idea what your business is here... but my own is with Wells. Yes, Doctor... you have wasted the potential of this machine. Have you no conscience? No soul? All around you, a war wages. While innocents suffer, while people die... you do nothing to stop it."

"Lad... you haven't the foggiest notion of how the device works, do you? You speak of conscience? Of duty? If only things were as cut and dried as you suggest. Are you mad? Do you think I want war... want death? Of course not! But such things have already come to pass. The past has already been written, lad. The past... is immutable!"

"Enough! Enough of your lies!"

Phineas lunged toward H.G. Wells, his arms raised in rage. Before STU could even react, he was upon him.

"Phineas... no!"

STU leapt forward toward the pair - Phineas struggling to wrest Wells aside, Wells trying to hold back the much younger man. As STU grabbed the back of Phineas's jacket, Wells lost his footing and fell against the machine. All at once, the pulsating violet glow steadied and - with an increasingly high pitch - enveloped the trio.

And with that... all of reality tore open



In an instant, a sense of total vertigo overwhelmed him. He felt himself slipping…as is if spinning into orbit…when he steadied himself. He had trained for this—being lost in the timestream. It was one of the first things Cobie had taught him. And he had experienced it many times now.

He checked, and saw he was connected to the Time Machine through the electromagnetic sensors that lined both the Machine and his clothes. Switching them on, he was immediately being drawn back to the machine. He looked around to see if he could find either Phineas or Stu but it was no use. He suddenly heard screaming though the sound was drawn out…stretching out as it took longer to reach him than normal. Turning, he saw in the distance a figure being lost: Phineas. It was no use, the boy was sucked into the timestream, likely lost forever. Though perhaps through some minor miracle he’d survive.

But then he saw where the sound came from. For how long, who could ever know or measure? He saw Stu, hanging on barely. He quickly turned on the mobility devices laced into the lining of his clothing and raced over, stretching out his hand. "Hold on, Stu... almost there... I've got you..."

"Ph... ph... phineas?" STU stuttered up toward Wells.

"The boy? He couldn't hold on... we lost him. Just another moment, Stu... please... you are too heavy. We are almost there, but I can't hold you much longer. Please... just try to pull yourself up..."

STU heard the words and tried to make sense of them. Stu pulled himself up and for a moment, it worked. The motion, however, threw the rest of his body off balance, and he began slipping out of Wells' hand.

"Stu... no... just another moment... we are almost..."

"I... I can't...please... help..."

"Stu... nooooo!"

STU lost his grip, falling away from the machine and into the maddening chaos of the time stream.

“NO!” screamed Wells. “NOOOOOO!” he said again. But Stu was gone.

…And then it dawned on him. “Stu survives…” he muttered. Using his technology, he flew back into the Time Machine and sealed it shut. “Clearly, that was not the Stu of the Legion’s time. And many Legionnaires long suspected, or outright knew likely, that Stu was ancient in years. Perhaps even thousands of years old. No, I’m sure of it. He survives. That was the Stu of the past. The Stu of the 20th Century. And somehow he came to see me, not recognizing me. I know that he lives on to become a Legionnaire in 3001. He survives, dammit!” he yelled, slamming his fist onto the control panel.

He turned on some of the functions that he had yet to turn on before being so rudely interrupted back at home. “Unfortunately the boy was lost. But Iron Rat lives on. And I may as well make sure of it. Let’s see if the Machine can at least track to which year he ended up…”

Dr. Wells did so, knowing precisely how to navigate time after his long experience. And finally caught the trail. And so he re-entered reality in 2998.



2998,
Medicus One; Wing for Diplomatic Patients
The United Planets

It was no use searching any further, Dr. Wells realized. Though he was certain Stu had ended up in 2998, he was unable to locate him using the tracking devices of the Time Machine. Either he was simply too far away, or he had ended up somewhere where the properties of time were too uncertain ascertain.

The entire exchange had been incredibly unsettling to Bertie. Yet, he recalled his conversation with Jane that evening where she reaffirmed his beliefs following his first encounter with the odd Phineas B. Fuddle. And as that conversation led him to pursuing a certain goal, he now found himself again thinking about it. “2998…” he said to himself. “Two years earlier than I planned, but then again, why would it matter. He has yet to become a hero or get his powers. But he was still Cobalt Kid. Using his knowledge of Cobie’s personal history and doing a bit of research, he soon discovered exactly where a 15 year old Cobalt Kid would be.

It would take some maneuvering to get in to see him, but Wells had a lifetime of espionage and subtly to rely on, as well as technology 30 years better. He reflected on how odd it was that the sequence of events began in a medical ward and now was ending in one as well. For this was a critical time in Cobalt Kid’s life.

At age 14, Desmonius Primus Julianus, a Patrician noble of Ggrrgg did the unthinkable, and sided against his father with revolting Hephaestians after his father ordered the execution of all Hephaestians on Ggrrgg. This mass execution included Desmonius’ first great mentor and friend, Alchemious, who taught him philosophy, science, mathematics, and more importantly, defined for him what it meant to be humane. Desmonius and his father, Marius, dueled in a fight which saw the young boy defeat his father. Though he hesitated in killing his father, he had no time to make the choice: his own mother Livia stabbed him through the back, choosing her husband over her son, intending to kill him for his betrayal.

It was an act that would change the boy who would be Cobalt Kid for all his life. It was a betrayal that was unthinkable…unforgivable…insurmountable. It would be the first of many wounds to come that would shape the boy. He would grow hard—too hard for a long time. And then, later, the great struggle in his life would be to change. But all of that was a long way away, for right now, the wound was still fresh and the boy was still recovering from the stabbing.

He had lived: the UP diplomats on Ggrrgg recovered the boy and applied UP science to save him; whereas he would have been left to die on Ggrrgg. As they evacuated Ggrrgg permanently, they took the Consul’s son with them. But in his recovery, the realization had set in on what had happened to him. The trauma was fresh.

So it was that Dr. Wells, after sneaking into Medicus One and then the Special Wing for Diplomatic Patients, found the boy Desmonius laying on his stomach in bed. Once more, as in many other nights, the boy was sobbing. For in his heart he knew he was truly all alone in this world.

Seeing him there, crying quietly into his pillow, broke Bertie’s heart. Cobalt Kid, the man, never cried in front of anyone. At last, he cleared his throat.

The boy looked up. “Who is there?” he asked. At first his voice sounded afraid. Then Desmonius did his best to hide it. Again he spoke, this time with a colder, angrier tone. “Who is there?”

“You have a visitor,” said Dr. Wells, stepping out of the shadows. “I am…er…an old friend.,” he added smiling. “Hello Cobie. I’ve been anxious to meet you for some time.”

Desmonius was confused and frightened all at once, yet he did not signal for the nurses. Instead he looked at the old man, curiously, until he could overcome his fear. In his 20th century garb and his aging body showing gray hair, a rounder middle and signs of fatigue, Dr. Wells did not look very threatening.”

“You have?” asked the boy, surprised. “Why?”

“Because we’re old friends,” said Dr. Wells with a laugh that suggested an inside joke.

“You must have met me when I was much younger then,” said Desmonius matter-of-factly, “because I do not remember you.”

Dr. Wells did not reply, but instead walked forward and looked down at the boy. “Co--, Des…” he began. “Would you like to talk about how this happened?” he said, nodding at the healing scar tissue covering the stab wounds on Cobie’s back.

“No,” replied the boy firmly. He looked down, suddenly remembering his mother’s betrayal again.

“I understand,” said Dr. Wells. “I’ve come here today, my boy…well, I’ve come here today to tell you a few things.”

Cobalt looked up at him, still trying to figure out if this was a crazy person or not. He was leaning towards the former. “Such as?”

“Well, first, to tell you that all of the things you believe in. That you want to believe in. Science. Philosophy. Humanity. These are all still pursuits worth having. You’ve sacrificed for them, already, have you not? Then you have no choice but to keep going forward. You owe yourself that much.”

“I…” began Desmonius, but he stopped. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“You’re a bright boy and you have a bright future.”

“I’m all alone now, doctor,” said Desmonius, making the decision there and then to open up to this stranger. To trust that he was good.

“You think that now, but I can assure you that you are not. You are only as alone as you allow yourself to be. There are principles you believe in. Which you choose to believe in when all odds were stacked against you. When everything in your entire existence suggested to you to choose otherwise. I believe that choice is one you must continue to make over and over again. Do you continue to believe in these things? That man, when faced against all odds, can do good? That if you adhere to these principles, you are doing the right thing? You’ve made the choice once young man. Now you must make it again.”

Desmonius said nothing, though he was thinking about the words Dr. Wells just said. “I do believe, doctor,” he said at last. “I believe these things matter. Even if I don’t understand why sometimes. I believe.”

Dr. Wells smiled. “I know you do,” he said. And for the first time in many years since the dawn of the Great War, he too felt good. He prepared to leave when suddenly he stopped. He turned back to the boy. “One other thing,” he said. And suddenly he leaned down and wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him tightly.

Desmonius, not accustomed to displays of affection at first was resistant, though he of course understood what a hug was. But it did not take long for him to relax—mere seconds in fact. Because he needed someone to be there for him.

“Know you are loved, my boy. Know that you are not alone. And know that everything is going to be okay.”

“Okay,” said Desmonius, as he began to cry. And he cried into Dr. Wells shoulder as hard as he could. And when he was done, for the first time in his lifetime, he did believe everything was going to be okay.

September 1, 1920
London, England

“Bertie,” said Jane with some pride in her voice, “this young man is quite impressed by your work. From the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. This letter here says The Outline of History has opened up his eyes in ways he never believed.”

Dr. Wells smiled at his wife. “I’m glad. Jose Figueres Ferrer may end up changing the world then.”

“Then all this non-fiction emphasis on history has paid off?” she said with a rye smile. As Dr. Wells had aged, he had become increasingly fascinated with the subject of history. This was spurred on, he knew, from experiencing so much of it himself.

“I hope so,” he said. “History isn’t quite what it used to be,” he added as they laughed.



June 1, 3000
Earth
The United Planets

“Who in the blue hell is this guy?” yelled Lard Lad, as he ‘ported out of the way of a giant laser blast. He appeared seconds later in the sky, smashing down on an advanced robot and tearing it to pieces.

“Beats me,” smiled Looks that Kill Lad, as he rushed forward with Sketch Lad and Lash Lad, “but that monocle is so fashion backward it actually hurts.”

Laughing and feeling the adrenaline of the moment, the Legion of Message Board Posters—mere months old—reveled in the camaraderie of battle.

“Tsarin, lets take the sky,” said Cobalt Kid, grabbing his pal Tsarin Lad by the arms and flying upwards. “You with me, Dev?”

“Didn’t even need to ask,” said Dev Em behind him, scooping up Loser Lad and Shadowplay in Candlelight Lass as he did so. “We could always use a few more…”

“Now you’re just showing off…” said Cobalt.

“Says the guy waving to Princess No-Protection as he’s carrying a fellow LMB…,” replied Dev, adding “Shameless.”

Cobalt smiled. “C’mon, Cru is up ahead. Let’s join him.”

The flyers and the Legionnaires they were carrying quickly arrived to find Crusader and Beagle Boy facing off the heart of the problem. Before them stood the old villain himself, battling the LMB for the first time: The Archduke of Time. His hair had begun to grey, and he looked worn out, by now in his mid-50’s. Yet he was as bitter as he ever was…though the Legionnaires had no idea.

“Oh man, Paul was right!” said Loser Lad. “He really does have a monocle! Our first monocle! We’ve really made it!”

“Laugh all you want, little fools,” cried the Archduke. “You’ll be laughing right to your graves! For I’ve brought with me the great army of—“

“Wait! His monocle…it weakens me…” cried Dev, interrupting him. “My great weakness is monocles…” he uttered.

“It is?” said Beagle Boy, Cobalt Kid and Crusader in unison, dumbfounded. Even the Archduke looked on in shock.

“Haha,” laughed Dev, “NO” he added, flying at the Archduke with the full strength of a Daxamite.

As the battle raged on, the LMB soon found another ally entering the fray, though not immediately. Watching in the distance, somewhat in shock, was Dr. H.G. Wells, by now aged 56 years old, fresh from the year 1921. He had never in his life seen the LMB this young. To do so now was a shock to his system. Here was the LMB looked back on with great nostalgia: young, full of life and energy, rowdy as could be, always cracking jokes and thinking about sex. They were so vibrant. He couldn’t help but just sit back and watch, as did the enormous crowd that gathered around them.

They had existed now for several months and were already being seen as the turning point in galactic history that they were. Ever one not to miss a beat, he spied others in the crowd who were sitting back and watching: Matlock, the Great Detective, yet unknown to them. Nightcrawler, the great hero. Reporters, politicians, future lovers. Who knew how many others?

He waited until the moment was ripe, when Lard Lad and Cobalt Kid were thrown from the fray battling 41st Century robots and landed near his feet. “Excuse me, lads?” he began, hoping his 20th Century clothes would at least get them to give him a moment since their attention appeared to dissipate quickly. “Perhaps I can be of some service?”

“Sure, old timer,” said Lardy with a laugh. “But only if you’re buying! I’ll take a full keg for myself…” he added, laughing heartily.

Cobalt smiled at his friend and prepared to return to battle before it dawned on him who was standing before him. At first he only knew that he recognized him, though he could not figure out from where. And at last he began to remember that fateful night on Medicus One. “Doctor…?” he said at last.

“Indeed,” said Dr. Wells. “I believe you can use some assistance. And well, the Archduke of Time and I go back quite a long ways. I think we can wrap this up in seconds if you’ll allow for an assist?”

Cobalt nodded, trusting him instantly. “Let’s get to it then.”

Five minutes later, the Archduke was defeated and returned back to the time stream. Word had spread throughout the LMBers that a time traveler had joined them in the fight, and they had now retired to the original LMB Headquarters on Earth to meet him more.

“You’re truly H.G. Wells?” asked Beagle Boy

“I am,” replied Dr. Wells. “I’m also a card-carrying member of the LMB…though far off in your own future.”

“Oh my giddy aunt,” said Seahorse.

“So you know all about our future selves,” said Looks that Kill Lad. “Fascinating. Don’t tell us too much,” he added.

“I won’t, Paul,” replied Dr. Wells. After all these decades, his poker face revealed nothing…not even how sad he felt at that moment.

“You’re going to have to prove it, pal,” said Loser Lad. “I mean, cool get-up and all, but…”

Dr. Wells smiled. “My codename is Time Boy,” he said, “though clearly I’m not a boy any longer. And I’ll be happy to prove it time and time again. Starting with the secret handshake no LMBer will ever use following the first year, though one of you was kind enough to teach it to me far in your future.”

They laughed. “I told you the handshake was lame,” said Lard Lad.

“So why are you here, Dr. Wells?” asked Crusader.

“The Archduke, after years of battling your future selves, finally got the idea to go back in time and fight the young LMB. Therefore, I’ve followed to lend a hand.”

“But if we already are beating him in the future, he’s trying to change time…” began Tsarin Kid to many groans.

“It’s best if we approach the topic of time travel slowly, dear boy,” said Dr. Wells. “Which we will do. I intend to help train you all after all.”

“You do? For what?” asked Cobalt Kid.

“For your time travel adventures, of course. You’ll be having many,” he added, to a growing excitement in the room. “And first up…isn’t it time you met the one who inspired you? Isn’t it time you met Engine Joe?”

Cheers erupted everywhere.

Later, after their first adventure with Engine Joe, Cobalt Kid spent some time with Dr. Wells alone. It was a long overdue meeting. “I’ve often thought about you, you know,” said Cobalt.

“I’m sure you have, Cobie,” said Dr. Wells. “I’ve often thought of you too. We are destined to be great friends, as you shall see. Believe it or not, but time travel will play a somewhat significant role in your life.”

Cobalt shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I really just wanted to say thank you. For helping me that day. And helping me stick it out. I ended up going to the best school in the galaxy. And now, my education is a whole different sort of thing. Thank you, Dr. Wells.”

Time Boy smiled. “My friends call me Bertie”.



June 1, 1933
London, England

“Dr. Wells,” said the young man, trying to hide his over-eagerness. “While you have never been one to shy away from controversy…this, ah, latest work of yours…well, it’s going to cause quite a bit of outrage.”

“One should hope so,” replied Dr. Wells. Much like the young man representing his book publisher, he was also hiding something—impatience. He was tired of these same old conversations. “It’s intended to cause outrage and concern. After all, these are very real things the entire world should be thinking about right now. Things that could destroy us all. You do understand the title, do you not?”

“Of course, of course,” said the young man, believing he did, though in truth he did not. “The Shape of Things to Come…a rather brilliant title. But did it have to be so bleak? A second world war? Lasting for 30 years? It’s…well, it’s rather upsetting.”

“I know…” replied Dr. Wells, with deep sadness in his eyes.



June 1, 3002
Earth
The United Planets

“There you are, lads,” said Time Boy with great enthusiasm. “You’re getting the hang of it now. It’s not so hard operating in fourth dimensional space when you are thinking fourth dimensionally.”

“Makes sense,” said Poverty Lad with a laugh, clearly not getting it.

“Better than me having to die on this exercise, I guess,” said Dedman.

In front of them, the LMBers were practicing the art of dealing with fourth dimensional pressures to withstand time and space travel. It was a concept they still had never quite mastered—but would. Soon.

“You’re being here, Dr. Wells,” said Faraway Lad, the current leader of the LMB. “Is the Archduke of Time scheduled to attack anytime soon?”

“He is,” replied Time Boy matter-of-factly. “Though I hate that when I appear it usually means we have to battle the Archduke soon after. I’ve come a few days early this time to spend some more time with you all. Help continue the training I started a few years ago. I don’t expect the entire roster will be adept at time travel, but a brief education should be part of the basics. At least until Rond Vidar shows up.”

“Who now?” said Faraway Lad with a rye grin.

“Right. Sorry. He’s several years away.”

“Ah, here he is,” said Faraway as they suddenly found Cobalt Kid. “Returned to us at last. Cobie, look whose here. Bertie has come by for a visit.”

“Bertie!” said Cobalt, jumping off his bed to walk over and give Dr. Wells a hug. “It’s great to see you.”

“You too. I believe you’ve had a rough few months?” he said concerned.

“I’ve had rougher,” Cobalt lied. “Are you staying for awhile?”

“I am,” said Bertie. “I thought we could continue our sessions…?”

“I’d like that.”

Time Boy smiled, as both he and Cobalt walked to the area of the headquarters reserved for high-concept science super-training. For when the science was so advanced that even 31st century terms were difficult to explain it. Time Boy reflected on these last ten years of his life and the emphasis he had put in interacting with and training the young LMB. And particularly, in training Cobalt Kid.

Cobalt Kid was an oddity among the LMB. For the first several years, he was the youngest of their membership and oft-referred to as the collective kid brother of the LMB. Yet, along with Lard Lad and a few others, was one of the most tragic and trauma-filled LMBers. What set him apart even further was because of his young age, he was the perfect candidate to train and learn to be a superhero from the best of the best. Thus, from almost his first day, began the Re-Education of Cobalt Kid, to become a legendary superhero.

After being thrown in charge of the espionage squad almost by accident, Cobalt Kid found himself taken under the wing of the master spy Faraway Lad early in his career. Faraway Lad joined the LMB to turn it into a “proper group”, and in doing so, took a select group of LMBers under his way to train in the arts of espionage. Cobalt was his greatest student.

The Great Detective Matlock also found an unlikely apprentice in the form of Cobalt Kid. The two instantly bonded and Cobalt learned how to become a master detective himself. Later in life, they would be full partners, and then even later, Cobalt would be Matlock’s boss.

Yellow Kid, the great super-villain also found himself in the unlikely role of mentor to Cobalt. Here, he took an enthusiastic young hero and provided him the invaluable service of explaining to him the mind of a villain, and the various tactics they employ. From things as simple as escaping an escape-proof prison to complex issues such as making an enemy believe they have fulfilled the great hole in their soul that motivates them.

There were others as well: Looks that Kill Lad taught him to follow his beliefs in being humane to its natural conclusion of universal acceptance for all living creatures. Shady had taught him to believe in himself. All of the LMBers taught him something.

And of course, there was Bertie. Time Boy taught him about time travel—everything he could ever want to know, though not all at once. He also taught him about all kinds of science. And he helped develop within Cobie the love of history that he had always had to where Cobalt became the official custodian of LMB History throughout his lifetime. But more than that, he taught Cobie about faith. And keeping the faith when the chips were down. He taught him to believe in the fact that no matter if he understood it or not, that by doing good no matter what the circumstances, he had to have faith that it served a better outcome for the universe at large. For how else would they ever know that what they were doing really mattered?

June 1, 1937
London, England

“This is one of your best—and strangest—yet,” said Jane, holding up the newly published copy of Star-Begotten. “Where did such a strange idea come from? Martians, an alien race, altering humanity in its evolution?”

Dr. Wells simply smiled at his wife. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, dear,” he said. "Though I'm convinced more than ever that any sort of evolution is the direct result of outside influences..."

June 1, 1938
London, England

“That certainly doesn’t look your usual Time Boy attire,” said Jane with a rueful grin. “Is this some sort of dalliance with a 31st century harlot?” she added playfully.

Bertie smiled, as he finished his tie. Looking into the mirror before him, he realized that despite his age—now at 72 years old—he looked rather dapper. He was dressed in a full tuxedo which was worn at only the most posh and high class events. “This is a day I’ve had planned for some time,” he said. “And one I think I deserve to enjoy…provided I have the stamina for it.”

Jane smiled. “Surely you do, you dashing man,” she said, offering him a kiss. “I cannot wait for you to tell me all about it.”



September 27, 3002
Earth
The United Planets

The Wedding of Cobalt Kid and Space Tart

“Man, our first LMB Wedding!” said Lash excitedly. “Only moments away!” He was dressed in his regular LMB costume, which had been decided was an acceptable substitute for formal wear by the LMB at large.

“And who would have thought it’d be these two?” said Dev Em laughing. “I would have thought they’d kill each other first.”

“Nah,” said Lard Lad, looking at the groom with a booming amount of pride. “How could it not be these two?”

In front of them, standing in front of the mirror, was Cobalt Kid, adjusting his formal clothes, and struggling with the tie. “If I ever can finish getting dressed…” he said, “…when this is over, I’ll be tearing these clothes off faster than…” his voice trailed off as he tried to adjust his tie…

“Nervous, Cobester?” asked Lardy with a grin.

“No,…dammit!” he said, giving up. “Okay, where’s Darden? Tell him to stop checking on the Bride and help me with the tie situation.”

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance?” said a voice in the doorway. And there he stood: H.G. Wells.

“Bertie!” said Cobalt. “Just in the nick of time!” he added, emphasizing the play on words to the groans of his companions.

“Welcome, Time Boy!” said Lash Lad. “Man, everyone is showing up for this shindig!”

Lardy and Dev shared a quick look. Bertie looked very old. The oldest they had ever seen him so far, though to be fair, they only knew him for three years in their own time at that point.

Bertie began fixing Cobalt’s tie. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he said. “And it’s a good thing I checked on the Bride first,” he added, finishing the tie and now straitening out Cobalt’s suit.

Cobalt smiled. “How does she look?” he said with a beaming smile.

“Beautiful. And sober too, thankfully,” he added as the other LMBers hooted and hollered. “Though not for long…” he added.

Now they were all laughing. Lard Lad spoke up: “tell me, in rankings of the top 100 greatest LMB parties ever thrown, where does this one come in?”

More laughter. “I seem to recall somewhere in the top 25, but then again, you haven’t experienced the great pre-War celebration that happened in 3011 which will change your opinion on what a real party is ever after…”

They were roaring.

“I’m glad you’re here, Bertie,” said Cobalt, meaning every word. “All of the LMB…my entire real family…is here.”

“Come now,” said Time Boy. “No need to get all maudlin. Let’s get you married.” And so, the Groom, groomsmen and time traveler walked off to The Wedding of Cobalt Kid and Space Tart.



The Wedding of Crusader and Maxx

May 1, 3004
Psyonia,
The United Planets

Still looking fresh and dapper in his tuxedo, Time Boy exited the now-verging-on-Roman-orgy reception of Cobie and Spacey’s wedding just in time to find the most high class ceremony he’d ever been a part of about to start. Quickly moving across the ceremonial hall to disapproving looks, Time Boy found the Legionnaires all huddled together in one section of the large room, and quickly joined them. Many smiled at his approach.

Up front, Maxx the Sorcerer had already taken his place at the alter. The Royal Family of Psyonia had entered, and Princess Crujectra was making her way towards the front alter.

Time Boy settled in next to Cobalt Kid, Matlock and Shark Lad.

“Never did figure out why you’re always running late…” said Shark Lad grumpily. Matlock laughed.

Princess Crujectra smiled at Cobalt as she walked by. Time Boy looked at his friend and behind him noticed a girl he hadn’t realized was there: his administrative assistant, Jailbait Lass. He gave her a warm smile. Still not out of her shell.

At last, the Groom-to-be himself began to enter, and all of the pomp and majesty of a royal wedding, in outer space, in the far future, revealed itself to H.G. Wells. Prince Mikaal Jectra of the Royal Family of Psyonia looked noble and heroic, walking down the isle. He looked like a true king and a true hero. It was a sight Time Boy would not forget.



The Wedding of Cobalt Kid and the High Priestess Viviane

May 1, 3005
Legionnopolis,
Legion World

After the high class celebration that was a royal wedding, Bertie felt the first wave of exhaustion sweep through him, but he resisted it. Checking off in his head the list of which wedding was next, he knew he’d get an adrenaline rush soon enough. Thus, he journeyed forward to the next LMB wedding on his LMB Wedding Tour.

The atmosphere on Legion World at this wedding was quite different: instead of happiness and pride, it was complete reservation and anxiety. The High Priestess Viviane was about to marry Cobalt Kid…and by now the LMB knew that only something terrible would follow.

As he approached Levitz Square, he saw the guests were being seated and the groom had not yet taken his place. At the forefront, Kent Shakespeare was preparing for his officiating duties. In the crowd, he saw Monkey-Eater Lad, Space Ranger, Emerald Empress and many others, all whispering to one another while in a far-off corner he saw Viviane’s family drawing odd looks. Nearby, he found Cobalt, who was looking through his omni-com, sending out last minute messages to security officers.

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance?” he said with a smile.

Cobalt looked up, annoyed at first, and then smiled widely at Time Boy. “Bertie! Good to see you,” he said.

“And you my boy,” replied Time Boy. “Quite a crowd gathering.”

“Yes,” said Cobalt. “There’s definitely some tension in the air—“ he began to say and then stopped. “Wait a minute. Are you wearing the exact same tuxedo as my last wedding?”

“Of course,” smiled Time Boy. “It’s my best one.”

Cobalt smiled back. “That’s not what I was alluding to. Did you just come from my wedding? Did you know at my last wedding that you were coming to this one?”

Time Boy laughed. “I stopped at Crusader’s wedding first. You remember, don’t you? I stood right next to you.”

“Ha!” said Cobalt. “So you’re traveling to all the LMB weddings? In the same day! That’s ridiculous! That’s…that’s really awesome,” said Cobalt thinking about it for a moment. “Though you could have told me at my last one it wasn’t going to stick…”

Time Boy shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?” he said.

Cobalt nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “Some things are not worth knowing,” he said, and then reflecting on it a few seconds more, he changed his position. “Will this one stick?”

Time Boy smiled. “I think this time, you’ll know pretty quickly.”

And so, a mere 20 minutes later, when the High Priestess Viviane became the Dark Priestess Viviane, kicking off the infamous saga referred to as The Good, The Dark and the Dead in the LMB Archives, Cobalt indeed learned it would not stick, and Time Boy found himself feeling the adrenaline rush he anticipated, as he battled by the LMB’s side against the War Planet of Avalon.



The Wedding of Faraway Lad and Gigglebot Girl

June 1, 3008
Legionnopolis,
Legion World

“Ah, a proper gentleman and lady at this wedding,” said Time Boy with a smile, as looked at the wedding ceremony invitation. “And I have just enough time to get a new tuxedo…” he added, turning the corner on the streets of Legion World.

“We’re two steps ahead of you, Bertie,” said Matlock, who was waiting for him. By his side were Invisible Brainiac and Abin Quank. “Since we’re on to your game—jumping from one LMB wedding to the next—we figured you’d be showing up.”

“And since your tuxedo didn’t survive the wrath of Viv at the last one…” said Abin with a smile, as he held up with his Green Lantern ring a freshly pressed 20th century tuxedo measured exactly to Time Boy’s measurements (at age 72).

“You lot think of everything,” said Time Boy with a smile. “I even have time for a quick pint with the groom…” he added.

“My detective skills are picking up on a familiar pattern here, Bertie,” said Matt, “having to do with pre-ceremony drinks.” In truth, Matt was so happy to see Time Boy again…having just a year and a half earlier returned from being with him for 25 years strait, that he couldn’t wait to enjoy the pint as well.

As Time Boy got dressed, he noticed Faraway Lad looking downright dapper. Unlike many of his companions, Faraway Lad needed no assistance (nor did Cobalt Kid, who by now had the hang of it). “I’m happy for you Darden,” said Bertie. “This is well-deserved for you.”

“I guess even an old warhorse has to settle down eventually,” said Faraway Lad. “Now instead of seduction I’ll have to rely on outright underhanded lies and subterfuge.”

“Are you sure you’re not from 20th century Britain?” said Bertie as the two shared a private laugh. The others shook their heads, as the joke went right over their heads.

“Bertie,” said Darden. “Perhaps you’d care to give a toast at the reception? We all know you’re traveling from wedding to wedding, and well, it adds something of a heaviness to your presence. It would—“

“It would be an honor,” said Time Boy.

Later at the reception, after some other toasts had been made, and dinner had been served, and dances had been danced, Time Boy stood up. “If I can have a moment,” he said, as they turned. “Though some of you may still not quite grasp it, you’re all my oldest and most loyal friends. And to see you now, filled with such happiness and love for one another…well, it fills me with the greatest feeling I could possibly imagine.” He turned to Faraway Lad and Gigglebot Girl. “A toast then, to the Bride and Groom, and their love for one another. And to the love you all share for them, and they for you, and you all for each other. To the LMB!” he finished, holding his glass high.

“SWEET ASS SWEET!” came the reply in unison to cheers, smile and laughter.



The Wedding of Lard Lad and Dru the Sorceress

February 14, 3007
Cobalt’s Midnight Lounge, Legion World
The United Planets

In a small, intimate ceremony, Time Boy was able to see the Legionnaires in yet another light. After having been through so much, Lard Lad and Dru locked eyes and found a connection in each other’s souls. Though Wells knew it they had many more struggles to come and their union would be brief, he took comfort that this moment of deep connection existed at all. After all, if he’d learned anything, it’s not how much time you have together, it’s how you spend it.

Time Boy found himself sitting with the small delegation from the Sorcerer’s World though Lardy clearly knew he was present. The others, however, were too preoccupied to see him and likely were trying to focus on this momentous occasion in front of them after the recent troubles on Legion World. So it was when Cobalt Kid, who to Bertie’s delight was officiating the ceremony, spotted him that Bertie gave a warm smile of encouragement.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!" Cobalt said grinning. "Well, Lardy? Kiss her already!"



The Wedding of Dedman and Disdemona

October 31, 3010
Legionnopolis,
Legion World

“Bertie,” said Dedman, looking devilishly handsome in his all black formal wear, “years ago, I found your toast incredibly moving. And well, I was hoping it would become something of an LMB tradition. I’d be honored if you…”

“Deddy, the honor would be all mine,” replied Time Boy, giving his friend a hug. He felt replenished after Faraway Lad and Gigglebot Girl’s wedding as he smartly decided to stay on Legion World overnight and get some rest. After all, he could turn this Wedding Tour into several days or weeks. In fact, he wished it would never end at all.

Later that night, he danced with the Bride. He danced with all the ladies. He enjoyed the cake. And he made his toast. And later, he partied with Cobie, Matt, Darden and all the rest.

“How many more of these do you have planned before you get home?” asked Cobalt after they enjoyed their 7th scotch.

“All of them,” said Time Boy with a wide smile.

“Don’t tire yourself out,” said Cobalt. “You have to pace yourself.”

“The same can be said for all things, Cobie. And for all of you as well. But no, I will enjoy each and every wedding. Because these are the happiest days we ever had.”

Cobalt smiled and soon Bertie interacted with all the rest. Dedman finally stood up for his own toast and promptly electrocuted himself to shock the audience. He died instantly…and soon was resurrected. Laughter roared from the crowd.

As the night slowed down, a slow song came on, and Bertie found himself dancing with Lolita. “I know it makes sense logically,” she said to him with a smile, “but it’s hard for me to admit you’re the same teenage boy that saved my life in space that time.”

“Sometimes I don’t feel like that boy anymore…” he admitted. “Sometimes I feel old and tired. But today. At this wedding…at all of these weddings. I feel as vibrant as I ever did. Being Time Boy has done that for me.”

She smiled, and feeling tired, rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe one day you can do a toast at my wedding…” she laughed, “…as unlikely as that sounds.”

Time Boy simply looked forward. “Maybe, I will…” he replied with a big smile.



The Wedding of Exnihil and My Whee Fem

3015
Legionnopolis
Legion World

"Why do I get the odd feeling this wedding will end with a gangsters versus ninjas battle royale?" asked Shark Lad.

The Legionnaires in the surrounding rows laughed.

Walking down the isle, Everyday Girl gave them a look the said "I'll shoot every one of you" as she prepared to join Lolita and the other girls.

"Too bad we didn't think of that," said Invisible Brainiac. "It was more fun when we could tease My about having a boyfriend..."

As they spoke, they say Exnihil appearing at the forefront of the reception in his proper place, just in time before the music sounded for My's grand entrance.

Cobalt smiled as Bertie quietly joined the crowd. "I notice Ex is about two minutes late. Not being held up by the now traditional pint with Time Boy, I hope? The Bride would have quite literally decapitated you both".

Time Boy smiled. "He's a martini man, Cobie, as you well know. And that Bride happens to be very dear to me."

Cobalt grinned. "Ex hasn't been this nervous since he found Lotta Handsome's head in his sink..." whispered.

"Psst!" yelled Ex as the music sounded for the Bride and everyone rose. "Can the severed head talk, willya?!"



The Wedding of Cobalt Kid and

You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?

June 1, 30??
Legionnopolis,
Legion World

As the Legionnaires assembled into their seats in the large hall, Cobalt Kid waited around the corner, looking incredibly handsome and sophisticated in a 20th century tuxedo modeled on the look worn by Wells himself. By his side, looking handsome despite one eye covered by an eyepatch was his best friend, the hero formerly known as Lard Lad.

“Third time’s the charm, eh?” said Lardy, breaking his balls.

Cobalt smiled at the comment. “I’m not nervous at all, Lardy. All I want to do is just be married to her. To kiss her…be with her…just love her forever.”

“Ugh. I hope that’s not your wedding vows,” he laughed. Then he added, “I’m so happy for you, Des. This is who is you should have always been with. This is the real love of your life.”

In the back of the large Church, the Bride stepped forward from her private room to begin her descent down the long aisle. Her bridesmaids had already descended towards the alter, and her Maid of Honor now did so as well. All that was left was the Bride herself.

She had opted to not have anyone walk her down the aisle. The old Earth custom felt outdated to her when she decided and she had never had a father in her life. But now, as she waited impatiently, she wished she did.

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance, my dear,” said Bertie, walking forward. The smile on his face was the biggest one he ever had.

“Bertie?” she asked, surprised.

She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. He simply held his arm out as if to invite her to hold it. “May I?”

She smiled and walked over, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, wrapping her arm into his.

“No, my dear,” he replied. “Thank you.”

”Time Boy and the Gestapo Terror”

March 15, 1943
Bristol, England

He had warned them this was going to happen; at first subtly; eventually outright telling them there would be another great and terrible war. And when the Second World War finally broke out, he felt a familiar sense of dread and terror wash over him.

He was old now; technically he was 76, though after decades of time traveler, the real number was closer to 82 considering all the days and weeks he spent in other centuries. He was old and he was tired, but he felt obligated to survive this war—so he could keep resisting. He was outspoken and vocal in his resistance to the Nazis.

Which is why the zeroed in on him.



It was during a trip back and forth from Zurich to Bristol that they made their move. He went under the guise of a literary conference though it was not so subtly an espionage mission for British military intelligence. Upon his return flight home, he began to realize the crew was quite different than the one which had taken him to Switzerland. And he damned himself for being an old man and not realizing it sooner. One overpowering emotion engulfed him: the sense of terror knowing you’ve been tricked and were in sudden danger these moments were your last.

The crew who had taken over the plane—clearly Gestapo agents—saw in his eyes his realization and now they chose to discard the illusion of being anything other than what they were: a death squad. A man sitting in another seat aboard the private plane stood up, took off his overcoat and hat, and revealed himself as a small man, with balding blond hair, and a brown suit. He was almost non-descript except for his lifeless, cold eyes. “I trust you are enjoying the flight, Dr. Wells?” he said with a half smile though his tone showed he found no humor in it.

For a moment, Wells was too scared to respond. And then finally, “I was.”

The Gestapo leader smiled again. “You’ve been quite vocal about your disapproval of heir Hitler and Germany. Yet you come and go to the European continent with such confidence. As if there were no consequences for your words.”

The plane hummed. The smell of stale air and airplane machinery hung in his nose. A light headache he had from motion sickness continued to pulse. Yet he found himself considering, in that moment, all he had seen and done, and saw his courage returning. “I hope, you piece of Nazi scum, that you don’t plan on giving me a lecture before you kill me?”

The Gestapo leader stopped smiling now. “A shame, really,” he said. “The great H.G. Wells here before us, and yet you’re such a disappointment. Old and weak. Poor Eric must be devastated,” he added, nodding to another one of the Gestapo agents off to the side. “He is quite the fan of your work.”

Dr. Wells turned to see this “Eric” and saw another non-descript Nazi agent in plain clothes. In his hand, Wells noted, was a book—likely one of his. Yet in that second, it was if this “Eric” flashed the book for him to see, and Wells saw it was not one of his own, but rather, “Treasure Island”.

“Perhaps we’ll let Eric do the honors, then,” said the Gestapo leader, taking a moment to enjoy the cruelty he was unleashing. Because politics aside, the true reason he did what he did was to hurt…to torture…to feel powerful.

Eric nodded and stepped forward, taking out the pistol from his side pocket. “Dr. Wells,” he said with a heavy German accent. “Allow me the honor of shaking your hand before I do my duty to the Reich.”

Now Wells found himself totally perplexed and feeling a stream of emotions. Is this it? Do I really die now, after all I’ve done? Executed quietly where no one will ever know?. Eric walked over, and outstretched his right hand, all the while gripping the pistol with his left hand. If I die now…please let me find the strength to not be afraid… he thought. His mind racing, his extended his own hand almost on instinct, not knowing what he was doing. And then the hands touched, and Eric began to shake.

And all at once….Wells felt a familiar handshake. One he had experienced only twice ever before. And as his heart raced, and he continued pushing back the terror…he felt a single tear run down his cheek. Not because he was scared. But because he was relieved.

Eric, who held the gun up now in shooting position. Smiled at him. And all at once, several things happened:

Eric, who was the Boy of 1,000 Faces, turned and shot the Gestapo leader through the chest with the pistol. As he did so, he used the other hand to pull off the mask he was wearing to reveal another “Eric”—Eryk Davis Ester.

The other Gestapo soldiers were caught off guard but for only moment. Which was all it took for Matlock to exit the cockpit, where he had already taken out the Nazi pilots and replaced them with Emily Sivana and Exnihil.

Behind Matlock was Paladin, who hurled a sword across the room at a Gestapo soldier who came forward from the back with a machine gun, and caught him across the arms.

Matlock held a Thompson machine gun, and he gunned down the Nazi’s in short order.

As Dr. Wells realized what was happening, he saw felt the plane shifting underneath him. And looking out the window, he saw why: Cobalt Kid, using his magnetism, was guiding the plane. Beside him were Power Boy and Invisible Brainiac.

Dr. Wells, felt himself being pulled up by Eryk, as Matlock approached. This was an older LMB—older even, than the LMB that had tutored him as a boy. Perhaps the oldest he’d ever seen.

“Hello, Bertie,” said Matt with a smile.

Bertie, who truly believed for a few moments he would die, felt tears forming in his eyes. “Hello, Matt,” he replied.

“Fancy one last adventure, battling some Nazis?”

Time Boy, who had taken to calling himself “an old fool” during the Second World War in response to a growing sense of helplessness, felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. “I do, indeed.”

March 12, 2998,
Earth
The United Planets

A lifetime of defeat takes a toll on a man. Particularly a man who always felt abandoned and never good enough. It makes him desperate. Desperate to prove something. To anyone; to everyone; to himself.

After 30 long years of one continuous loss after another, the Archduke of Time was at the end of his rope. After the events of his…earliest years…he made a solemn vow to destroy the Legion of Message Board Posters. At age 14, he tried for the first time. And he failed. He pulled himself back up, dusted himself off, and tried again. And again, and again, and again. And he always failed.

At some point he decided another tactic could be tried: go farther back in time and battle a younger LMB. If he fought the older LMB when he was a boy, he’d fight the younger LMB when he was old and they were boys and girls. And he still lost.

So perhaps it was time for one other tactic. Perhaps it wasn’t just the LMB he could destroy. Perhaps it was the 31st Century itself…before it even came into existence. With that thought, he turned back to the Time Machine, and prepared to utilize the nega-bomb he had secured in his travels. He would unleash it on Metropolis itself and kill everyone. There would never be an LMB if they never had a place to form.

“After all of these years, Gero,” came a voice suddenly, “you still don’t understand.” He knew it immediately and it caused a deep, terrible fury deep within every fiber of his being. Time Boy.

The Archduke of Time turned and came back out from the Time Machine. Standing before him, in the plain clothes of 1944 dress clothes, was H.G. Wells. He looked very, very old. Noticing that immediately, the Archduke smiled and felt a surge of confidence. “The years have not been kind to you, Bertie,” said the Archduke, holding the sound of Well’s nickname with utter contempt.

Time Boy simply looked back at the Archduke with pity. He truly felt bad for his oldest and most recurring enemy. “Do you really think battling you as been so important to me, that I’d waste every second of my life doing it?” he said. “For thirty years you’ve tried to stop the Legion. Well for me, it’s been almost seventy. These melees we’ve had—which to you, might be epic—to me were an annoying distraction.”

The Archduke, bitter as ever, spit on the ground. “Look at you! The great Time Boy! You’re so old now. What is it, mid-80’s? Well past history’s recorded age of death for you. You’re likely on the cusp of dying even now. And you now what, Bertie? That gives me great pleasure.”

Bertie again shook his head with pity. “Gero, this emptiness inside of you. It’s…it’s going to eat you alive. You’re still young enough to stop it. You still have time to let it go and have a great life.” As he spoke, he could see his words were having the opposite effect on the Archduke, who only grew angrier. “I know I’m close to the end now,” he said at last, confirming what the Archduke suspected. “But I’m not afraid. I’ve had an incredible life. I’ve had adventures. I’ve had great loves—one in particular. I’ve had a wonderful family and children. I’ve had friends…oh, how I’ve had friends. And I’ve had the LMB. I’m not sorry and I’m not scared. And if you can change, you still might have that.”

The Archduke was not amused. “You were once a young fool and now you’re an old fool. I’ll destroy the LMB before it even is created. And probably you with it.”

Time Boy put his head down and shook it as the conversation came full circle. “You still don’t get it,” he repeated. “You cannot change the past. You cannot alter time. What happened, happened. And you’ve spent your whole life trying otherwise, wasting away one day at a time. Even now…” he added.

And with that comment, the Archduke realized that once more, he had been tricked. Nearby, Matlock (the Matlock of 3028) was pulling the nega-bomb out of the Time Machine and out of the Archduke’s grasp. The entire conversation had been a ruse to disarm the Archduke. And once again he’d been defeated.

“You…you…bastard…” he said, almost at a whisper.

And Time Boy felt a wave of sadness over him

The Archduke did not scream, nor did he hurl threats. For he had finally reached his breaking point. He simply ran to the Time Machine, once more throwing open its doors. But this time, yet another strategy would be in mind. “it’s you, Bertie…it’s you…you’re the reason for my failures…why didn’t I see it?...you’re the my great enemy…”



As he traveled in the Time Machine…all at once the Archduke recalled each and every defeat he’d ever had. And almost all of them were because of Time Boy.

“I’ll kill Wells…” was all he said to himself. “It’s the only way…”

He was beside himself with rage and grief.

“Before he was a time traveler….I’ll kill him…”

And he tried.

And when that was unsuccessful, he realized he’d have to go back even farther. He’d stop Wells at the moment of his birth. So he tried again. And the Legionnaires had always known he’d go there eventually. So they were waiting with a trap ready to be sprung.



March 12, 2998,
Earth
The United Planets

“It’s not your fault, Bertie,” said Matlock, who could tell his friend felt tremendous regret over the Archduke of Time. “It’s not any of our faults. It’s not Cobie’s fault either, and Cobie is his father. It’s a terrible tragedy the Archduke became who he did. And whether that was the by cruel design of some unseen force, or just fate itself, the fact remains: we did not do it. We simply stopped him when he tried to bring others harm.”

Time Boy looked up at his friend. “I know, Matt,” he said. “Perhaps part of me hoped that here, in our final encounter, I’d convince Gero to see a different path. After all, I’ve known him for almost 70 years.”

Matlock smiled. “As I’ve told you, old friend, maybe you did. Who knows how the Archduke’s story ends? Neither of us do, for sure. But perhaps your words will have left some meaning. All you know is you tried.”

November 1, 1945
London, England

He stood there overlooking the Thames River, letting the steady flow of the river and cold November air relax him. He leaned heavily on his cane, allowing himself to dwell on several long memories. After some time, he spoke out loud, not caring if any passerbys noticed. “Jane,” he began, “I miss you more than anything. Especially now. Especially after what the world has seen.”

Though he knew it was going to happen in the future, he never suspected that in his lifetime, man would develop nuclear weapons. It was a very difficult blow to him. World War II was tough enough, especially the atrocities committed by the Nazi’s—and yes, the Red Army too—coming out; but two atomic bombs in Japan hung over him greatly.

“I’m coming to the end now. I can feel it in my bones. I’m so tired. And I think its time. My world is either in the past, long gone…or in the future, far, far away from now. But not today.” He grew quiet again, thinking he’d said enough out loud and that he should stop acting like a silly old man.

Jane officially had died in 1928. Though secretly…just as Matlock secretly was his ward for 25 years…and secretly he was really 89 instead of the official 78…she lived for another 11 great years. She finally died in 1941. For Bertie and Jane shared an incredible secret that only his friends in the far future of the 31st century knew. Jane, who was commonly believed to have been his cousin Amy Catherine Robbins, was secretly A Princess of Mars from the year 2185. And she was the great love of his life.

He remembered one of the last conversations they had together when it was clear she was dying; evidently her Martian physiology could only handle living on Earth for so long, and she refused to part with Bertie. She said there was a question she had meant to ask him for decades but never got around to it.

“Tell me about the Time Machine, Bertie.”

“The time machine?” he laughed. “How it works? After all these years? Do you plan to use it?” he smiled.

“No my love,” she smiled back and ignoring his teasing. “Where does it come from? What is it? And how did you acquire it?”

Bertie smiled at that and then took a moment to figure out the best way to explain. “Well, before I had it, it had its own odd history. Where it originally comes from, I do not know. Though I suspect Cobie knows somehow. He must have learned it some time prior to his ‘Dr. Cobalt’ days. Likely in the Time War.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “The Time War. No matter how many times you thought you played your part in that damnable war, you kept on being involved one last time.”

“Yes,” he said. “I suppose you’re right. But in a way, haven’t I always been playing a part in A Time War, even if it wasn’t The actual Time War?”

“I suppose.”

“Anyway, after its creation, the Archduke of Time gained control of it. And he used it for a good 30 plus years. Until at last he fell into a trap the LMB had waiting for him…and they acquired it.”

“This is during Cobie’s ‘Dr. Cobalt phase’ as you like to call it.”

“Yes. He gained it then and held onto it for a year. He had to gain it then, you see, because he had been waiting for something. The key. He needed the key to operate it. Which he gained, and then once he had both the machine and the key, he decided it was time for me to gain them. And so I did, and I gained the machine. Which I’ve had for almost 80 years.”

“Oh Bertie, it’s so wonderfully complex. The way you’ve just described it is the Machine’s timeline. Which is rather different than your own, is it not? And the Archduke’s? And Cobie’s?”

“Yes. Indeed it is. Let’s say the Machine is Linear A—“

“No, please no,” she insisted. “Let’s say you’re timeline is Linear A. The Machine could be Linear B or something.”

“I’m honored,” replied Bertie. “The Machine’s is Linear B. It’s origins are shrouded in mystery until the Archduke gains it at age 14 and then loses it to the LMB; who then give it to me.”

“And what will you do with it now?” she asked. “Have you decided?”

Bertie smiled widely and all at once she knew the answer. It was obvious after all. “I’ve known what I was going to do with it for a long, long time Jane. And when the time is right, I know exactly where it goes next.”

She loved him for that. For that part of her life—the way it all worked together somehow. It took him many years to come to that same sensibility; that how it all pieced together was something to find strength in rather than frustration and puzzlement. And now, at the end, he’d begin tying as much of it together as he could.

August 13, 1946
London, England, UK
Earth

He’d been feeling very ill lately—the kind of tired, sick feeling that an elderly person feels. The tendency to deny what was happening was there for him to grab…but he had seen so much in his life that he did not feel scared. He was not going to run. He’d face it.

He took a long look at the costumes on display in front of him. His original Time Boy costume, worn during his teenage years and early 20’s. His revised Time Boy costume worn during his most adventurous days when he felt his most confident. And, looking in the mirror, the plain clothed look of the current century at its most recent version, which he wore now. He’d make sure these costumes were included in the final package he gave the Legionnaires.

The present day had reached an odd turning point following the end of the Second World War and the advent of nuclear power. And he realized he did not want to be a part of it…at least not at this age, he thought with a smile. Only the younger Time Boy had the naïveté needed for the 1950’s.

And so he said farewell to the Present.



September 21, 1866
Atlas House, 46 High Street, Bromley
England

On the filthy streets of Bromley, Dr. Wells looked up to see a shimmering violet hue expanding in the sky in every direction. At its center was a machine, around of a man that pulsated with energy. The machine was empty, as its pilot had descended below. Other figures moved in the sky at alarming speed. In the distance, he could hear the booming voice of Power Boy: “I’ve got him!”

Amazing, he thought with a smile as he turned down a deserted alley that was about to have another visitor. He watched as suddenly Cobalt Kid—or “Doctor Cobalt”—appeared in front of him.

Doctor Cobalt was smiling to himself when he stopped to see Time Boy standing there with an even larger smile. “I should have known you’d be here, Bertie,” he said as he walked forward and gave his friend a hug.

“You look quite pleased with yourself,” said Time Boy, hugging him.

“I am. I just delievered the Key to Ibby. That means he’s got it right now above us in the sky. The Machine can be opened. The Archduke is caught and the machine is ours.”

Time Boy smiled. “And Darden had it this entire time?” he asked, though in a way that suggested to Cobalt that he always knew this information.

Cobalt smiled. “He did.”

“And what else did he tell you?”

Cobalt sighed for a moment. “Nothing I didn’t already know. He tried though, as I knew he would. But he couldn’t save him.”

“And that’s what matters,” said Time Boy nodding.

Up above them, they could hear the Archduke being cornered now. “Your time is up, Archduke,” said Power Boy.

Doctor Cobalt turned to Bertie now, and Bertie was shocked to see that a tear was running down his face. “Is this the end, Bertie? Will I see you again?” he asked. “Is this the last time I see you when you’re a grown man?”

Time Boy smiled at him. “You told me once you’d tell me anything, Cobie. But I’m afraid this one thing, I’m not going to tell you.” He leaned forward and gave him a hug.

Cobalt hugged him back, accepting his response. “I love you, you know.”

“I know. And I love you too. All of you.”

They stood there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company for what felt like the last time. Finally, they overheard as the Archduke made his final escape without the Time Machine: With his time machine lost, all would be lost for him…until a third party reached out, and saved him. And suddenly he was gone Onwards to plague the LMB in a new and more terrible way in the TIME WAR.

“He escaped, dammit,” said Doctor Cobalt.

“Of course he did, Cobie,” said Time Boy. “You know that.” And before Cobalt could react or walk over to his friends, he saw Time Boy checking his watch and Bertie then spoke up. “You better move, Doctor. You need to get in there and make a delivery.”

Cobalt nodded and immediately sprang to action, knowing he could waste no more time. As he walked across the street, he suddenly looked back. And he offered a big smile. “Thank you, Bertie. For everything.”

Bertie smiled back. “Thank you, Cobie.”

Cobalt walked over to the house in front of him and knocked hard on the door. Quickly, it opened. In the distance, Bertie heard him speak: "Dr. Desmond Cobalt, at your service"



September 27, 3004
Legion World

He was sitting alone, brooding to himself. Though many visitors had come to see him, he was not yet ready to accept them. Time Boy decided he would not give Cobie the chance. Cobalt Kid, believed dead for a year, had returned to the LMB after undergoing the most severe torture of his life for months on end. And in his immediate freedom, he found himself as a General immersed in war, killing his enemies and ordering even more killed. He was traumatized to a point where he believed he was beyond repair. But Time Boy knew better.

“Hello, Cobie,” he said from the shadows.

Cobalt jumped. Even with his prowess, he was too distracted to detect him. “Bertie,” he said, surprised. “What are you doing here?” His tone suggested some annoyance.

Time Boy, showing every bit of his 93 years of age, stepped forward. “I’ve come here to teach you one final lesson,” he said.

And in that moment, Cobie knew this was the very end of the road for Time Boy. He pushed away all of his emotions and feelings, stood up and helped Bertie find a seat. “I’m sorry, Bertie,” he said. “I’ve been in a foul mood. Let me help you.”

“No need for apologies, Cobie,” replied Bertie. “I know all about it. You’ve been through quite an ordeal. Life-changing and not in a good way. I’m so sorry, m’boy. I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”

Cobalt tried to change the subject. “I made it through,” he said half-heartedly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Cobie,” said Bertie, putting his hand on Cobalt’s hands. “We’ve always been blunt with one another. And I’m sorry to say…I’m almost out of time now. I’ve come here to tell you once again that life is full of choices. Ones that you must continue to make. Choices you’ve made time and time again. And now you need to reaffirm what you believe in.”

Cobalt remembered the words Bertie spoke to them when he first him. He knew they were true then and he knew they were true now. “I feel so alone,” he said. “So cold. I…I don’t actually even feel anything. I’m so empty. Like used goods.” As he said the words, he looked away. He was now too damaged to even cry—he believed in his heart he’d never cry again.

“You are not alone, Cobie,” he said. “Remember that. Always. And also remember your sworn duty. To fight for what you believe in, even when you don’t understand why you continue to do so. For the Legion. For Legion World, your new home. There is a place for you here. You just have to make it.”

Cobalt considered the words. “I’m thinking of opening an official Security Office. Crujectra gave me the idea. I think it could provide some value to Legion World.”

“I think it would provide some value to you,” said Time Boy.

Again, they were quiet for a moment. “Bertie,” said Cobalt finally. “You once told me you’d tell me anything I asked.”

Bertie nodded, smiling at the irony of his breaking that promise an hour earlier.

“Answer me then. Will I be killed? Do I die like so many of my friends in the Hall of Heroes?”

Bertie looked at him with a tender look that was warm but also very, very sad. “You do, Cobie,” he said quietly.

Cobalt nodded at the knowledge which confirmed what he feared and suspected. In his deepest moments during the torture, he made a vow to himself that if he survived the ordeal, he would make sure he died on his terms. “Okay,” he said at last.

“I hope—“

Cobalt cut him off. “Okay, Bertie,” continued Cobie. “I’m going to open the Office of Security with this Space Ranger fellow.”

Time Boy smiled at him. “You’ve made a good choice.”

They stood up as Bertie planned to depart. Cobalt now understood the gravity of the visit...that this was Bertie's last. "Bertie, I--"

"I know Cobie," he said warmly. "We have many more years together for you, and we've had many great goodbyes."

Cobalt smiled. It was a weird thing to hear but he was satisfied. And suddenly he felt a curiosity peak. "What will you do with the Time Machine?" he asked.

"Oh, I know exactly what to do with it. It will go somewhere...where its needed most."

Cobalt smiled. "Goodbye, Bertie," he said. "Meet it at your own terms".

"Indeed," he said. "It's about choices, Cobie. And faith." And then he buttoned up his coat and departed. "Goodbye".



July 17, 3002
Earth,
The United Planets

As he stepped out, he noticed it was a very hot summer night in 2002.

Raging all around him was chaos. The Legionnaires battled Lucifer Lass and her minions as the LMB grew increasingly deep into a larger threat to their existence.

He wondered what action he should take--if he should attempt to aid them. But he wouldn't have much of a chance.

Still, in those final moments, as the debris that would kill him hurled downwards, he felt a familiar surge of adrenaline.

Bravery. Adventure. Honor. Brotherhood. Peace. Doing what was right.

These were the principles he stood for.

He embraced them all one final time.