Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business Klar Ken T5477’s Miscellanous Musings

Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne
Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin.

* * *

He nodded and went out … and in a moment I heard Winnie-the-Pooh – bump, bump, bump – going up the stairs behind him.

The Tale Of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter
Once upon a time there were four little rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail and Peter.

* * *

But Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.

The Little Prince written by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, translated by Katherine Woods
Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest.

* * *

And no grown-up will ever understand that this is a matter of so much importance!

Le Miserables by Victor Hugo, translated by Isabel F. Hapgood
In 1815, M. Charles-Francois-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of D--.

* * *

Only, many years ago, a hand wrote upon it in pencil these four lines, which have become gradually illegible beneath the rain and the dust, and which are, to-day, probably effaced:
Il dort.
Quoique le sort fut pour lui bien etrange, Il vivait.
Il mourut quand il n'eut plus son ange.
La chose simplement d'elle-meme arriva, Comme la nuit se fait lorsque le jour s'en va.

(My translation: He sleeps. Although his fate was strange, nevertheless, he lived. He died only when his angel abandoned him. The thing simply happened, as the night comes when the day has ended.)

The Legion of Super-Heroes
“I’M SORRY, SUPERBOY, BUT WE CANNOT ADMIT YOU INTO OUR SUPER-HERO CLUB!”

(First words on the cover of Adventure Comics #247, 1957)

* * *

“LONG LIVE THE LEGION”

(Last words in the last panel of Legion of Super-Heroes #23, 2013)

This is a very scary lineup, and I would be very interested to read a story where this does happen! I'm sure Brainy and Superboy would take center stage again. Would any Legionnaire be safe, if these Supergirls go lethal? I think only the Kryptonians/Daxamites, as well as Phantom Girl and possibly the magicians, would be.

I have a couple of things. Don't expect this to continue.

AFTER THE LEGION – MARS

Wynn and Marte Allon had retired, and had purchased a house in New Denver. Their home was of a typical “flying crescent” style, built cliffwise into Apollonis Mons.

Since his permanent re-assignment to Earth, Gim Allon had managed to have dinner with his parents every other weekend for eight months straight—fully one-third of a Martian year. They appreciated this new consistency.

Mostly, he had enjoyed socializing with his parents. His work at the Science Police was demanding, intense, and, to be honest, somewhat lonely. He was something of an outsider in the SP, and something of a curiosity. A former Legionnaire, it was also well-known that he had been married to a Durlan. Casual conversations often turned awkward as comrades pressed him for details about either experience in his past. The female officers tended to avoid him.

It was a relief to unwind once a fortnight in the comfort of his parents home, a hundred million of miles or more away on Mars.

However, he expected tonight’s dinner to prove more uncomfortable. He had agreed to it with his parents, but his ambiguous feelings might explain why he had turned up half an hour late.

“Gim! These are the Konns,” his mother hailed him from the door.

Mr. Konn reminded Gim of Marla Latham; Mrs. Konn could have been Mrs. Allon’s sister.

“And this is their daughter, Rachama,” Mrs. Allon continued.

Rachama Konn had the appearance of someone who spent a great deal of time outdoors. Her olive complexion matched her short, dark, curly hair and her chocolate-drop eyes. She was tall, taller than her parents, possibly an inch or two taller than Gim, the sign of a Terran raised her whole life in the low gravity of Mars. Despite her height, she was not slender, but stocky and muscular.

The Konns were old friends of his parents. Gim knew that Rachama was a marine biologist, working for the Martian Maritime Audit, cataloging the wide variety of alien species that had carved out ecological niches in the terraformed Martian seas. It was obviously physically demanding work.

Gim also knew that this dinner was intended to something of a blind date, and he knew Rachama knew it, too.

“Pleased to meet you, Rachama,” offered Gim, extending his hand.

Rachama took Gim’s hand and laughed. “Very formal, Officer Allon. If you call me Raxx, and I’ll call you Gim. And I am glad you’re finally here: dinner’s ready, and I’m starving!”

As they turned back into the house, Mrs. Konn threw her daughter a glance, as if to say, “You are not taking this seriously.” Raxx shrugged her broad shoulders at her mother.

“We have a problem,” he heard his father call out. As they rounded a corner, Gim saw immediately what the problem was: an SP officer in full riot gear was standing next to his father in the middle of the dining room.

“Sergeant Xaudhary, New Denver Science Police,” she introduced herself. Holo-credentials flashed beside her helmet. “I just transmatted in. We have a situation, Allon,” she continued, addressing Gim. “Take a look.” She gestured toward through the archway into the living room.

The living room wallscreen was set to a planetary news channel. A building hovered high in the Martian sky—far too high. Broken utility pipelines and connections dangled from the base. Sergeant Xaudhary zoomed in on the holo. There was a solitary man beneath the massive building, apparently supporting the entire structure on his shoulders.

“It’s a renegade Daxamite named Kel-Nik. He broke parole, left his homeworld illegally, stowed away on a cargo vessel, wanted to make a big name for himself in the Solar System with his Daxamite powers, we guess. He got as far as Mars when he began to feel the effects of lead poisoning. He’s demanding anti-lead serum in exchange for hostages, and there isn’t any available. The nearest place we can get it from, as far as we know, is Daxam, and they tell us they need a DNA sample from him to produce it. If he weakens to the point where he can’t hold that shopping complex up any longer, he and it will come crashing down, and we lose a thousand lives or more.”

“They tell me you have some experience in this sort of thing,” Sergeant Xaudhary looked skeptical. “And you have…well, friends. I have an open sub-ether connection, a portable transmatt, and a fast ship at your disposal.”

Gim was overwhelmed. A thousand ideas streamed through his mind, but all of them involved there still being a Legion Headquarters in Metropolis. His “friends”, as the sergeant had called them, were now scattered across the Galaxy.

”I’m not tall enough,” he thought. “That building is miles in the air.

Wynn Allon leaned over, and whispered in his son’s ear.

“Got any ideas?” he asked.

“Not a one,” Gim whispered back.

“OK,’ his father answered. “I hate to do this, but… take Officer Xaudhary. Go to the New Denver Downtown Deli. Order a two corned beef sandwiches there for me. Yes, you know I hate corned beef. But trust me. Keep an open mind.”

Less than a transmatted minute later, Officer Allon and Sergeant Xaudhary were walking in the front door of the New Denver Downtown Deli. The proprietor stood behind the counter. He was a small, fat, cheery, balding man with a tattered fringe of gray hair.

“Gim Allon!” the little man cried. “I haven’t seen you in ages! What brings you here?”

“Sergeant Xaudhary,” offered Gim, “this is an old family friend, Martin Hunter. In addition to running this deli, he is a cantor at our synagogue.”

“What can I get for you?” Mr. Hunter asked.

“My father asked me to order two corned beef sandwiches for him,” Gim replied.

“Has it come to that?” The little deli man turned beet-red. “Everyone! Please! The Deli has been temporarily closed! I will have to ask you to leave!” he shouted. “Not you two,” he addressed the SP officers.

After hurrying his customers out into the street, Mr. Hunter closed and locked the door behind them. Then he changed the wallscreen to the news channel. A holo of the flying building came up.

“A renegade Daxamite,” Sergeant Xaudhary explained again. She gave the same brief summary as before.

“And the Science Police are not prepared for such an eventuality?” Martin Hunter queried.

“UPGov is putting together a Special Forces Unit to deal with just such exigencies—we will even to be coordinating with the Green Lantern Corps and Thanagarian Hawk-Police… but for now…there has been some red tape…”

“And the Legion was dissolved prematurely,” Martin Hunter finished. “Well, let’s see if our little friends downstairs can help us.” He toggled a well-concealed switch on the deli case. It slid aside, revealing a stairway leading down to a hidden basement. Mr. Hunter marched down, obviously intending them to follow.

“Your father and I ran into them once as years ago. Before you were born, Gim. They tend to be terribly shy and secretive; I don’t know who else might know of their existence.”

They entered an elevator, which descended very fast. Still, it was a good two minutes before they stopped.

“In thinking about it since, I would guess their technology is perhaps thirty centuries ahead of what is generally found among the United Planets. I’m sure they have the ability to erase our memories, but they trusted us to keep their secret. That may be the bargain: keep your mouth shut, and they’ll leave you alone. But we know they have protected Terran colonies in the past—and don’t necessarily object to what we’ve been doing on the surface. They may offer us help again.”

As the elevator doors opened, the three emerged into what was obviously an small underground chamber. The walls were smooth, variegated polished rock, rather resembling marble. The floor was a uniform gray, and soft; walking on it was like walking on a thick sponge. The domed ceiling was lower than Gim was comfortable with; he was feeling somewhat claustrophobic. The air around them seemed to be itself the source of all illumination; it appeared to radiate a faint, rosy glow.

A group of half a dozen clearly alien men and women in crimson uniforms were waiting for them. They each stood perhaps five feet high, with round heads, round bodies, but slender arms and legs. Their ears were sharply pointed. Although they wore soft helmets or cowls, it was clear they had small, Durlan-like antennae as well. Their skins were various bright shades of green.

“Welcome again, Martin Hunter. Welcome, Officer Gim Allon and Sergeant Solunna Xaudhary of the Science Police,” one of the green women spoke. “We are the Martian aborigines—the native inhabitants of Mars. My name is Boba Ran, jansem of the local Martian… police… force. We can help you.”

Jansem Ran led the group through a series of winding tunnels of the same polished stone, to another room containing a holographic display much like the ones in the Allon home and in Hunter’s delicatessen. This one was free-standing, however, in the middle of an otherwise apparently empty room. It also showed Kel-Nik, hovering with the building full of hostages. As Jansem Ran spoke, two other crimson-uniformed Martians moved about the room, appearing to manipulate invisible, intangible keyboards—but brief patterns of light showed that there were indeed controls there.

“We are directing a hyperbiopulse at the Daxamite,” Jansem Ran explained. “This will render him unconscious for an hour, more or less. His powers will not be diminished, so the fall will not harm him. We have determined that he will fall in an undeveloped area, so damage will be minimal. It is up to your forces to recover him, and have him dealt with appropriately.”

“We are also directing a… well, you would say a tractor beam, or gravity ray… at the shopping center, and will lower it safely to the ground. We could return it to the same area of the city the Daxamite tore it from, but our council has determined that this would be excessive interference. Your SP forces will need to evacuate the center after it has safely landed.”

“Sergeant Xaudhary, your may inform your Chief Hu of the details of your encounter with us. She is entirely aware of our existence. However, you are otherwise to keep silent regarding what you have seen today. Chief Hu will manufacture an official explanation. Our race is… sensitive… in matters of… privacy. We do not wish the surface-dwellers of Mars, nor the United Planets generally, to be entirely aware of our existence. You may think us xenophobic, but in truth we are only… isolationist.”

Jansem Ran considered Sergeant Xaudhary carefully.

“You are too curious, and do not always understand that truth can sometimes do more harm than judicious deception. What is the old Earth aphorism? ‘Discretion is the better part of Valor.’ Do not force us to take more extreme measures to keep our presence here the open secret that it is. For now, return quickly to the surface, and communicate with your superiors. The Daxamite should be falling to ground even soon.”

It was true. The Martian hologram showed a small form falling to Earth; the massive building above descending more slowly.

The three hurried back to the elevator.

“As you can see, the Martians are a strange breed,” Mr. Hunter explained. “They are not natural telepaths, but have constructed machines that do read minds, and they are not careful about using them. They also follow events on the Martian surface closely using other technology, but seldom interfere—as far as your father and I know, they never interfere unless appeals to them directly, and then only in the most urgent circumstances.”

The elevator arrived at the surface. Even before ascending the stairs, Officer Xaudhary had transmatted herself back to New Denver Science Police Headquarters.

“I have followed your career with interest, Gim,” Martin Hunter explained. “We take the bad with the good, yes? But you will want to get back to your parents now. Can I call you a hovercab?”

“No, thanks,” Gim replied. “I still have a souvenir from… before. It’s just transportation now…” through his glove, he touched the Legion ring on his right hand.

“Give my love to Rachama,” Martin Hunter asked. “You could do worse.” He winked.

“Well, that’s my business,” Gim replied. “Although I suppose where my parents are concerned, it’s everybody’s business.”

He flew off into the purpling Martian evening sky.

AFTER THE LEGION – TALOK VIII

“Your ‘warrior’ is sleeping peacefully. The poultice will surely be effective. You may expect a complete recovery.”

The words were spoken in bitter, acidic tones. The old woman may as well have spat on the floor.

“Auntie Vaidya, are you also joining in disparaging my life-choices,” asked Tasmia Mallor. “I have already heard it from a dozen relatives.”

“His genetic makeup is entirely incompatible with Talokite DNA. You may as well have mated with a dumb beast. You even gave him your finger.”

“And he thought it a greater sacrifice than it was. He did not know of Malloran regenerative ability.”

“It is because of our careful centuries of breeding that we share that power,” the old woman answered, accusingly. “The men and women of the Shadowclan take powerful warriors as their mates, to improve the line with each generation. You have failed in your duty as an anointed princess of the Mallors. Your cousin Grev took a bride from the Memory clan in order to bring a generation of peace to our world. You could learn from his sacrifice for duty.”

“When we learned the unfortunate truth, I invoked the Unbinding. I brought you the spawn of the degenerate ‘warrior’ who defeated my Lar. Kirt Niedrigh also defeated—even imprisoned—the entire Legion. His political influence remains on Earth today—although he himself was a sadist and a murderer. His seed should have more than met your needs. My life has been about nothing but duty.”

“Whatever the power of the father, the offspring was weak and malformed,” the old nurse replied. “It did not survive a fortnight in the birthing chambers. What of the other ‘heroes’ you associated with? What of this ‘Superman’ that defeated Niedrigh?”

“You speak of a phantom, Vaidya ,” Tasmia replied. “This Superman you speak of has been dead a thousand years.”

“The Family controls the Shadowcave. The Family gave you your powers. You still have a duty to fulfill.”

“The Family has had eyes full of avarice, and seeks power where it has never been found. How many powers have we gained and lost over the centuries? Strength, speed, flight, the solid shadow-light, telepathy, telekinetics, psychoglaciation: they appear for a generation, and then vanish forever. Malloran blood wins out in the end.”

“Then there are throwbacks like myself,’ Vaidya Mallor said bitterly. “I entered the Shadowcave, expecting to become a Champion, and gained these accursed healing powers instead. It is literally Malloran blood which heals your ‘warrior’ now… and perhaps some day there will be one who brings a resurgence of our lost power.”

Tasmia turned on her heel, preparing to walk away from her great-aunt. As she opened the door, she discovered a servant, timidly waiting outside in the hall.

“What are you waiting here for?” Tasmia asked impatiently. She wondered to herself how much of the argument the servant girl had heard—not that every word was not already common gossip throughout the Palace.

“Pardon me, Lady Mallor,” the girl muttered, bowing her head in servility. “There is a person asking for you at Shadow Manor.”

“Grev’s palace?” Tasmia asked. “Tell them I am otherwise engaged, and will be for the foreseeable future. Then have the palace guard remove them.”

“I- I’m sorry, m-my Lady,” the servant girl stammered. “She has already been there two days. She has neither eaten nor slept, and has refused all hospitality. When we have explained that you will be occupied for some time, she has answered, ‘I have nowhere else I need to be.’ When the palace guard has tried to escort her out, they have been unable to move her. When they brought weapons it was… we have a large number of damaged weapons.”

“Tasmia, your former consort will sleep peacefully for hours,” * spoke up. “The nurses here are perfectly capable of watching over him. Let us both go and see this curiosity together.”

* * *

When Tasmia arrived at the anteroom of the palace, she was impressed by the figure waiting there. Easily seven feet tall, with golden hair and bright blue eyes, she might have been handsome once. Now her face was battle-scarred, her nose had obviously been broken at one time. In contrast, her costume was absurd. She was dressed in a deep forest green tunic, with matching leggings, and slippers with pointed toes. She wore a floor-length scarlet cloak, the cowl thrown back over her shoulders. Familiar with Terran folktales, Tasmia imagined her apparel as a combination of Robin Hood and Little Red Riding Hood.

The woman did not stand on the floor, but levitated a couple of inches above it. She did not look like someone who had been waiting a long time, but looked perfectly capable of waiting much longer if necessary.

“Tasmia,” whispered Vaidya, “she is a Daxamite!” She displayed the output of the portable medical sensor in her hand. “But there is something strange… she might… she might be compatible! Your cousin Adro…”

“Vaidya, think of something else for a change. Get your mind out of the gutter. We know nothing about this woman.”

“You know, I can hear you,” the mysterious woman replied from across the room. “You look wonderful, Tasmia. Considering your recent trials.”

“Do I know you?” Tasmia asked.

“No, and hopefully you never will. I don’t suppose we could speak privately? But perhaps you could come close enough that I do not need to shout.”

“At least a few guardsmen,” whispered Vaidya . “She is too dangerous to meet with alone.”

“She could destroy us both where we stand without moving a muscle. She undoubtedly was aware of our presence at the hospital, only a few miles away, but chose to wait patiently here. If we have anything to fear, it is too late now.” Tasmia motioned to one of the servants nearby. “Prepare the smallest banquet room. Bring Vaidya and I some lunch, and something for our guest as well, whether she accepts it or not. Do not hurry. We may be some time.”

The three women sat silently until the room was prepared. They adjourned to a polished round table which would have held no more than twelve or fourteen.

“You seemed in no hurry to tell your story,” Tasmia ventured. “and it seemed intended for myself alone. Who are you?”

“My name is Lar-el Gand,” the tall woman replied. “It is a common enough name—there must be hundreds of women and girls with the same name on Daxam.”

“I am something like the fiftieth great-granddaughter of Lar Gand’s brother. I was born on an asteroid in the Rickleff system, but spent much of my childhood on Earth. Approximately eight years from now, I will be caught in a powerful explosion. I can only assume that I will be believed dead. Instead, I was transported back to your time.”

“I say your time, because it is not mine. But I know this of your history: the Legion has been disbanded. Lar Gand has been seriously injured. But I also know that your Lar will recover.”

“About five years from now, as Mon-El, he will go one-on-one in a battle with the Time Trapper. Because the Time Trapper will be severely weakened, Mon-El will destroy him. That will be the end of your universe. Time itself will be re-ordered; at least a thousand years of history will be altered, perhaps far more.”

“I appeal to you: do not let this happen, if you can possibly prevent it. It will not make things better; in some ways it will make things worse. Glorith will assume the role of the Time Trapper, as well as becoming a ‘goddess’ to the Khunds. At her bidding, she and they will annihilate the population of Daxam. No one will be powerful enough to prevent this genocide.”

“If you can prevent Mon-El from destroying the Trapper, your time ought to continue to unfold normally. The Legion, and perhaps its successors, will continue to thwart the Time Trapper’s plans, none of which is as bloody and destructive as those of Glorith.”

“I, myself, only have existence in the alternate timeline. As I said, there are many now with my name, but none with my history or parentage. I do not know what will happen to me in five years if the Time Trapper is not destroyed. I suppose I might vanish like a candle-flame being blown out. I may go on to live a quiet, peaceful life on Daxam.

“We could give you a home among the Mallors in the Shadowclan,” Vaidya offered. “You would be more than welcome. You would be a princess.”

“Yes,” said Laurel, “And the Mother of Champions. No, thank you. I left a daughter back in the future, and motherless now. It is a strange thing, but I think the ache in my heart at not having her, at not being with her, is greater than if… I would almost see Daxam destroyed, if it meant I could see her again.” Tears welled in the invulnerable eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Tasmia apologized. “I cannot imagine your pain. I thank you for bringing us this warning. But I may have little influence on Lar—we are no longer married. And beyond that, I cannot imagine what circumstances might bring him to kill…”

“Destroy,” corrected Laurel.

“… to destroy the Time Trapper.”

Laurel Gand’s countenance immediately changed from sorrow to anger. “It is because the Trapper killed Superboy.”

“But, history tells that Superman was killed by Steppenwolf's parademons..."

“Not Superman, but Superboy—the Kal-El of the Time Trapper’s ‘Pocket Universe’. He was a member of the Legion in this timeline. He never existed in ours.”

“I don’t believe he ever existed in our Universe either—Superboy was recruited by the Legion from the year 1929, when he was Clark Kent—before he ever became Superman. And he was only called Superboy here in the 31st century.”

All this talk of alternate timelines, histories, and universes was causing Tasmia to doubt Laurel’s sanity. A mad Daxamite—but not exactly a Daxamite, according to Aunt Vaidya. Was she really from another Universe?

Laurel thought for a moment. “The thirty-FIRST century? But the Legion was founded in the mid-thirtieth century: in the year Earth-year 2957, to be exact.” She took in Tasmia’s glazed look. “Am I correct?”

“You are off by about forty years,” Tasmia replied. “I would be as old as Aunt Vaidya now, if that were the case.”

“What year is it?” Laurel inquired. “I have spent the last few months on Daxam, and it appeared I was five years in the past!”

“Here on Earth, it is September of 2013,” Tasmia explained.

“Then this is the future,” Laurel mused. “Sideways through time, and thirty-three years into the future. There may still be a way home.” She stared at Tasmia intently. “I need the greatest mind in temporal mechanics in the Galaxy. Do you know where this universe’s Rond Vidar is?”

There was something in Laurel’s eyes that made Tasmia hesitate. Her Aunt Vaidya must have seen it, too, for she gripped Tasmia’s arm tightly.

“Your Rond Vidar” said Tasmia. “He was a Green Lantern, too?”

“Yes,” Laurel replied, hopefully.

“His ring,” Tasmia answered hesitantly, “returned to Oa.”

Whatever Tasmia and Vaidya were expecting, it was not this. Laurel Gand sat, rigid, still as a statue, face impassive, emotionless, tears streaming from her eyes.

The servants were bringing in lunch.

I have been pleasantly startled thinking about the number of black heroes who had joined the Legion since Tyroc.

1. Invisible Kid II (Jacques Foccart)
2. Computo (Danielle Foccart)
3. Catspaw (?) (April Dumakas)
4. Kid Quantum (James Cullen)
5. Kid Quantum II (Jazmin Cullen)
6. XS (Jenni Ognats)
7. Gear (I.Z.O.R.)
8. Three-Boot Star Boy

There have been about two hundred or so Legionnaires, including the Classic Legion, the Five Year Gap Legionnaires, Batch SW6, the Reboot, the ThreeBoot, and the new members of the Retroboot. Which makes the black Legion contingent about 5%, or around the same number as Durlan or Xanthuan members.

Of course, Jacques is just a black Invisible Kid, XS is just a black Flash, and Star Boy is just a re-colored Thom Kallor.

But I particularly like that Gear and the Kids Quantum are just sort of incidentally black; their powers do not duplicate those of other characters, nor do they spring from typical 2Oth-century racial stereotypes.

(Women in comics have similar problems: in fact, I have been struck by how “normal” a super-heroine would appear wearing Tyroc’s original costume.)

I actually think the Threeboot Star Boy has a stronger personality than the other version. I think his costume is also better than the other versions. As I have said before, I would not be surprised to see that version in future media adaptations of the Legion of Super-Heroes.

Kryptonite musings.

Kryptonite first appeared in the Bud Collyer Superman radio show, although “K-Metal”, with similar properties, appeared in the comics books a couple of years before.
Originally described as a “strange, green metal”, a “metallic element”, “strange element from Superman’s home planet”, “an element unknown on Earth”, it was once described as Element 126. Until its eventual discovery, element 126 is known in Earth terminology as Unbihexium.

In the first Christopher Reeve Superman movie, kryptonite is described as a mineral: an amalgam of several elements, both known, unknown, and imaginary. In the Byrne Superman age, the mineral-like nature of Kryptonite became canon. Kryptonite from different parallel universes was of a different structure: the kryptonite which weakened the Pocket Universe Superboy had no effect on the Byrne Superman; the kryptonite which strengthened Ultraman had no effect on Superman, and vice versa.

(I wonder if kryptonite can be used as a kind of Time Beacon, to distinguish between various quantum realities?)

In the Smallville TV series, kryptonite was a radioactive crystal embedded in small quantities in the “meteor rocks” from Krypton. It has gradually assumed this crystalline nature in the comic books as well.

So which is it? Metallic element, rock-like mineral, or crystal? I suppose it depends on which Universe you’re in.

More kryptonite musings:

Kryptonite’s effects on Superman are apparently ataxia, enervation, and extreme pain, leading to unconsciousness, then coma, then death.

It always appeared to affect Superman’s physical strength most immediately; he frequently seemed to retain heat vision and invulnerability until just before the very end.

I actually never thought of kryptonite as painful until recently. When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, I described my complaint to my doctor as “kryptonite-like weakness”. I had to then explain that I meant I felt as if something were draining away my life-energy, not that I was in excruciating pain.

Varieties of kryptonite (at first described as isotopes) were pretty stable for a couple of decades: there was green, red, white, and gold kryptonite. “Blue kryptonite”, or Bizarro kryptonite, was not really kryptonite at all, but an artificial, manufactured substance.

Over the years, there have been a greater variety of colors and flavors: jewel kryptonite, rainbow kryptonite, pink, orange, purple, black, opal, and polka-dot* kryptonite.

In the Silver-Age Hyperman of Oceania story, blue zoronite is Hyperman’s equivalent of green kryptonite, and yellow zoronite is Hyperman’s equivalent of red kryptonite.

Sigellian is a radioactive blue substance which affected the Legion of Super-Heroes the same way green kryptonite affected Kryptonians. Whether it affected Terrans, and those of Terran stock, or only super-powered Terrans, is unknown. (There might be a rationale for the latter, with the later writerly invention of the “meta-gene”.) Sigellian, however, appeared only once, and was never seen again. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view.

FOREVER EVIL ULTRAMAN IS AN IDIOT

After coming to Prime Earth, the new Earth-3 Ultraman moves the moon so that the sun is blacked out all over the Earth.

This is because sunlight saps his powers. Just like Night Girl.

Now, moving the Moon away from the Earth to about six times its current orbit would allow it to remain stationary with respect to the Sun, as viewed from Earth. (It would have an orbital period around the Earth of 365 days.) However, it would be only a tiny speck on the surface of the sun, covering only about 1/40th the area of the surface.

On the other hand, moving the Moon towards the Earth, so that it is about six times closer, would entirely obscure the sun: but only occasionally: the moon would move swiftly through the skies, orbiting the Earth about once every two days.

So if Ultraman wants to black out the Sun with the Moon, he has to move the Moon closer to the Earth, and then hold it in place there, against the forces of gravity and the laws of orbital mechanics. Supertelekinesis, or something.

Of course, this would play hob with the tides, but I won’t go into that now.

There are so many other simpler solutions.

1) Half the planet is always in night. Fly to the other side of the Earth every twelve hours or so.
2) Establish a two Fortresses of Solitude, one in the Arctic, and one in the Antarctic. Move every six months.
3) Build a secret underground lair, or seize the Batcave.
4) Sleep during the day.
5) Wear a hood. Make the entire costume out of some tough, opaque material.

And so forth.

Location: Earth-3R

The original Silver-Age Crime Syndicate had powers similar, but not identical to, the Justice League.
1) Ultraman: While he apparently needed a certain level of continuous kryptonite exposure to maintain his abilities, exposure to new fragments of kryptonite gave him not just more, but new, additional powers. The entire “Crisis on Three Earths” begins when Ultraman gains the power to see across dimensions.
2) Superwoman: In addition to Wonder Woman’s powers, Superwoman possessed the power of flight, and a different sort of Magic Lasso. While she usually kept it in the form of a rope, it was capable of assuming any shape: a sword, an airplane, whatever.
3) Owlman: Possessing a “super-brain”, he was not only intelligent, but had the ability to control the minds and actions of others. Even Batman was powerless against his will.
4) Power Ring: The Ring of Volthoom was not just capable of creating hard-light constructs. It was actually magical, and Power Ring could use it to craft spells. One such spell “cursed” the Justice League and Justice Society so that if they defeated the Crime Syndicate, they would exchange places, assuring that the villains could not lose.
5) Johnny Quick: Nothing unusual here. Move along.

Now imagine a world where the original Silver-Age Crime Syndicate—whose powers are not identical to the Justice League—are heroes. Even more powerful than the Justice League, they could do even more good.

But Earth-3 was also a world where there was no true, complete good. Even the Crime Syndicate’s enemies had their own agendas. So Earth-3R is a world without true evil. Lex Luthor is a corporate giant, but all his businesses are legitimate, and he is a unapologetic philanthropist. The Joker, permanently, horribly scarred in an industrial accident, is an avant-garde performance artist. The characters we know as the Flash’s Rogues Gallery help him keep Central City safe.

Human beings are generally civil, tolerant, generous, and helpful to one another. Crime is almost unknown, no one locks their doors. There is poverty, of course, but no abject, crushing poverty. Many people engage the production and appreciation in the Fine Arts, Music, Dance, and other refined activities. The super-powered beings of this universe spend their time averting the consequences of natural disasters, saving lives, and building a better society.

OK, so there is little opportunity for conflict. The stories would be boring. But if you lived in this world, would you truly be ‘bored’?

I think the Earth-3R could have some interesting stories set in it, though it may not necessarily be sustainable as an ongoing series. Natural disasters, territorial beasties, cosmic entities (in a world where conflict rarely occurs, even someone like Mr Nebula could be formidable & he's definitely not evil)...you could do some interesting stories where the heroes are faced with something that challenges their morals to succeed....and even without evil motivation there's still room for conflict. Two opposing kings who want what's best for their respective countries may not have the luxury of mutual cooperation in some circumstances.....I like this world for storytelling challenges!

Earth-3R sounds like an interesting concept. It would make for a good mini series, at least. Great idea you have there, Klar!



That was the version of Star Boy who appeared in the Legion toon as well!

Clark Kent was once an ordinary Earthman. As a reporter for the Daily Star, he accompanied astronauts into orbit on the International Space Station. A near-by collision of a Kryptonite meteor with another radioactive meteor from Earth-3R’s own Solar system damagedthe station, putting the lives of the crew in danger. But Clark discovered that the strange radiations which sickened the crew had given him super-abilities allowing him to come to their rescue.
As Ultraman he now seeks out kryptonite both on Earth and in space inorder to sustain and increase his powers.

Thomas Wayne, Jr., the son of Dr, Thomas Wayne and Martha Cranston Wayne, and older brother of Bruce Wayne, grew up with every comfort and luxury money could buy. At a young age, he demonstrated a superior intellect, and at the age of twelve, was admitted into Harvard University. It was there he discovered his mutant telepathic abilities, and resolved to use both hismental and psychic powers for the benefit of mankind.
His friends good-naturedly nicknamed him Owlman because of his inclination to stay up until the small hours of the morning studying. (He had found at a young age he could get by very well on only three or four hours sleep a night.)
He eventually earned a Ph.D. from Harvard in a field he himself designed himself: Pataphysical Science Studies, which included Organic and Inorganic Chemistry, Physics, Biology, Sociology, and Physical Education.
Upon his graduation, his friends gave him an “Owlman” costume as a gift; a gift which Thomas cherishes.

Luma Lynai is the last survivor of the doomed planet Staryl. Rocketed to Earth as an infant, she was found and trained by the Amazons of Paradise Island (Themyscrya). At the age of twelve, she began her career as Superwoman, the rescuer and protector of Earth-3R.
Six years later, she assumed the identity of Lois Lane, and entered Metropolis University to study Journalism. In her position as a reporter for the Daily Star, she is in an excellent position to learn of dangers around the world, in which her powers might be needed.

Alan Scott was an engineer working on a machine intended to accelerate healing of individuals with severe injuries. When the machine overloaded, Scott found his metabolism accelerated to one hundred times normal. Isolated from the rest of mankind, Scott used the time to perform small, helpful, and anonymous acts of service, as well as to investigate the nature of the change his body had experienced. He discovered he did not need to eat or sleep at all during this period, as he was somehow drawing energy from a sort of inter-dimensional “Acceleration Force”. Not knowing whether the effect was temporary or permanent, he was relieved when his body finally ‘crashed’ after twelve hours; fifty days, subjective time.
A hearty meal and a good night’s sleep, and he felt quite normal in the morning.
He eventually realized that he was not normal, that his body chemistry had been permanently altered, and that his metabolism was gradually slowing down. After a few days, he was only moving at one-half normal speed. Using the knowledge he had gained during his fifty-day ‘exile’, he quickly developed an ‘Accelerant Serum’ which would allow him to return to normal, or to replicate his original experience, but under more controlled circumstances. The serum allows him to accelerate himself from normal up to 300 million times, at which point, ordinary walking speed is near the speed of light. He must take a dose at least once per day to maintain normal metabolism; other than that, the acceleration is completely under his control. He designed a special uniform which complements his abilities, when he becomes Johnny Quickly

Carol Ferris inherited Ferris Aircraft from her father. A generous philanthropist, she firmly believed in the principle of noblesse oblige. The alien magicians known as the Zamorans, sensing her desire to do even more for humankind, granted her the Amethyst Ring of Volthoom, a powerful arcane artifact which gives her a wide variety of eldritch powers. As Power Ring, Carol aides and defends the people of Earth personally, as well as through her philanthropic organizations.

It was Owlman, seeing the potential of these four heroes, who organized them into the [b]Charitable Syndicate Internationale.[[b]

On Earth-3R, the colors of the heroes of the Charitable Syndicate Internationale (CSI) are reversed from those of the JLA and Crime Syndicate.

ULTRAMAN dresses in bright orange and green.OWLMAN wears a silver-blue owl-helmet (der Eulehelm), a gray bodysuit, and an orange-and-brown cape. He also carries a multi-function ray-gun in a holster.

SUPERWOMAN has a costume of white and indigo. She carries a shape-shifting silver lasso, a gift from Paradise Island.

JOHNNY QUICKLY has outfitted himself in turquoise, with indigo lightning-bolts and helmet-wings.

POWER RING sports a white-and-magenta uniform, with a large pink heart-emblem, and wields violet star-sapphire-like supernatural energy.

Once, millennia ago, Persia’s “Fertile Crescent”, the breadbasket of the world, extended far into north-western Iran. Overfarming due to ignorance, and centuries of small misfortunes reduced this area to a desert. Yet it is possible today that hat it could be restored. Thomas Wayne, Jr., also known as Owlman, had applied his superior intellect to the problem. An appropriately constructed system of aqueducts and irrigation conduits would allow the northern deserts to “blossom like a rose” within a few decades.

Johnny Quickly had accelerated up to nearly the speed of light. One second of real time passed like ten years. Energized by the Acceleration Force, he would not need to sleep or eat for up to twelve hours—four thousand centuries subjective time. How much could a man accomplish in four thousand centuries?

The giant seemed to appear out of nowhere. Even at Johnny’s unimaginable acceleration, it was impossible to see where he had come from.

“How…?” he stammered, involuntarily.

“Darkseid is beyond time,” a sonorous voice bellowed. “Your puny temporal tricks are meaningless to me.”

Crooked red beams shot from the giant’s eyes. Johnny knew dangerous when he saw it, and reversed direction immediately, simultaneously activating the Syndicate signal. In one-fourteenth of a second, the signal would travel half-way around the world, and his friends would receive the alert. Subjectively, that was about nine months’ time. He had far less than that to figure out how to avoid the red beams.

In his Antarctic Fortress, Ultraman was tightening his kryptonite gauntlets. He did not like to wear them too often; long-term exposure to kryptonite radiation was correlated with an increased cancer risk in ordinary humans. But this—monster—had been wreaking havoc for a quarter of an hour already. It was a being of incredible power and rage. Johnny was missing, and even Superwoman and Power Ring had been unable to calm the creature. It would require the highest power levels to face the monster. He teleported to Teheran, where the creature had last been seen

The monster was holding the unconscious bodies of Power Ring and Superwoman by their necks, high above his head. The two women were severely beaten, but still alive. The Silver Cord of Proteus and the Amethyst Ring of Volthoom lay useless at the monster’s feet.

“I am Darkseid, ruler of Apokolips and conqueror of many worlds. Your companions have fallen. Look around you at the destruction that has already been caused by the fruitless efforts of these weak women to defy me. Yet you may still turn away my wrath.”

“Your “ultra-powers’ are insignificant compared to mine. Yet you could be of use to me. Submit to my will, Ultraman, and I will spare your world,” Darkseid demanded.

Clark stared into the glowing red eyes of his opponent. His enhanced senses told him that attacking the creature physically, even with his kryptonite-augmented powers, although devastating to the surrounding area, would be ultimately futile.

“Kiletipzeyxim,” said Ultraman.

to be continued

KRAKADOOM!

Darkseid was struck from behind by two beams of brilliant green light. Taken by surprise, he dropped the unconscious Power Ring and Superwoman. There was seemed to be no other effect on the giant.

“I’ve circled Earth over a hundred times to get those beams back to their owner,” Johnny Quickly commented. “And nothing happens?”

Simultaneously, Sir Mixyezpitelik, the 5th-dimensional vowelled Knight of Order, had appeared at Ultraman’s side.

“Oh, Darkseid, Darkseid,” the bowler-clad elf lamented, “Go back home. This Universe is inconducive to your presence. See how much energy your Omega beams have lost in only a few circuits of the globe? And it has already faded from red to green. Why, in a few more minutes, your Omega-force would have degraded to powder-blue or even lavender! Let me let you in on a little secret: Mankind fell here, but it got up again. And it’s the same everywhere: on Dhor, or Alstair, or Khundia. Do you want to know what the Anti-Life Equation is here? Zero! It’s Zero Equals Zero!”

“Do not taunt me, imp!” Darkseid threatened. “My power…” Suddenly, the giant stumbled, falling to one knee. The force of impact seemed to awaken and revive Superwoman and Power Ring. They retrieved their weapons, the Silver Cord morphing into a silver sword, the Ring of Volthoom glowing brightly.

“You are an avatar of Evil,” Mixyezpitelik explained. Ordinarily, you feed on the stuff. But here, there is so little of it, you are radiating it out into the environment, weakening yourself.” He held up a smoking black ball of mist. “If I hadn’t been collecting it like a ball of yarn, your presence might have actually corrupted something.”

BOOM!

“Do not think you can thwart Darkseid so easily,” warned the Apokolyptian Emperor. “I will have my revenge on this mockery of a cosmos.” He turned and strode majestically into the Boom Tube. Sir Mixyexpitelik threw the misty yarn-ball of Evil at the retreating god’s head. Mid-flight, it changed into a pink water-balloon, bursting and drenching its target. There was a ferocious howl as the boom-tube closed.

“Ooh, that was nasty stuff,” Sir Mixyezpitelik sputtered. Now I need a bath, and a hot cup of tea to settle my nerves.

“That is the greatest threat the Syndicate has yet faced,” Ultraman remarked. “To think that such monsters exist in the Multiverse!

“Should we face another such threat, we will stand together,” swore Power Ring, as her healing purple rays danced over Superwoman and herself.

In the sky, Johnny Quickly saw the Owlplane approaching. “Better get back to work,” he commented. And he was off in a blur.











http://www.hello-cthulhu.com/?date=2003-11-30

VIRTUE

This is a philosophical concept which had currency until about the mid-nineteen-sixties, when it began to lose favor; to the youngest of the current generations, it is an entirely unknown concept, even alien.

The idea is that there are certain attributes of personality which are, in and of themselves, good and desirable. As an example, one could take the moral of the fable “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” to be: be trustworthy, or when you really need people to trust you, they won’t. However, if trustworthiness is considered a virtue, then it is good and desirable in and of itself, no matter what your reputation might be, or what others think about you.

Although the concept of Virtue predates Plato, he enumerated the “four cardinal virtues” from which, supposedly, all others spring. These are, Courage, Prudence, Temperance (or moderation), and Justice.

Courage: The emotion of fear is experienced when we perceive a threat. The heart pumps harder, adrenalin surges, muscles tense, and we prepare to fight or flee. Those who fight are called Courageous. Those who flee are called Cowardly. But it is the same emotion.

Moderation: As your mother told you, too much of anything is not good for you and too little may be just as bad. Wisdom and moderation in all things. It is important to know the difference between a glass of wine and a case of wine. Moderation is a universal truth: if the Universe were a place of pure order, it would be static and unchanging. The singularity (or, perhaps, nothingness) which existed before the Big Bang was a condition of zero entropy. On the other hand, if the distribution of matter and energy in the Universe were completely random, even and perfectly homogeneous, it would be cold, gray, and boring. There must be a balance between Law and Lawlessness, which modern mathematicians have designated Chaos.

Prudence is the ability to comprehend the appropriateness of actions within context. For example, it is morally acceptable, even advisable, to attempt to rescue an individual from drowning. However, if one is personally unable to swim, such a heroic exercise is imprudent.

Justice is giving others what they deserve, and not giving them what they do not deserve. Paradoxically, Mercy is an attribute of Justice, and involves giving others what they do not deserve, and not giving what they do deserve. Moderation and Prudence temper Justice.

According to Plato, all other virtues naturally flow from the possession of these four. To name a few: Trustworthiness, loyalty, helpfulness, friendliness, courtesy, kindness, thrift, and cleanliness of body and mind.

The word Virtue comes from the root Vir, meaning human. (as also seen in Werewolf) To be Virtuous is to be human and humane, to lack virtue is to be beastly.

Some pope or other added to this list of “natural” virtues the “spiritual” virtues of Hope, Faith, and Charity. The idea being, that one might naturally possess the cardinal virtues of Plato, but the three spiritual virtues are only received as the gifts of God.

Nowadays, this concept of Virtue for Virtue’s sake is archaic. Certainly, it does not exist in the New DC Fifty-twoverse.

However, if four modern cardinal virtues were to be enumerated, we might select Efficiency, Lack of Sentimentality, Pragmatism, and Greed.