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Chapter One: Housekeeping

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Dori installed the egg in an alcove, a place of honor in her home in Sixteenth City. She immediately made arrangements to meet Alder Lokasenna at the Seventh City Third Bank early the following day. She attempted to purchase a 3D Printer and RoboChef® online, but discovered that they were only sold by the manufactuers in block shipments to planetary governments. Xolnar was not one of the purchasers. She managed to contact a supplier of used equipment on Thanar. She was surprised, and rather insulted, that Dori was looking to purchase just one of each.

“It’s not worth the shipping to send out less than a hundred,” she said. “If you can’t get them from XolnarGov—well, your world may not have the power infrastructure to run them.”

“I suppose I could come pick it up myself,” said Dori. “Combine family business with personal business. Can you send me manuals, with system requirements?”

The dealer charged her two credits each for the manuals, but forwarded them quickly.

The units were self-contained, and drew a fairly reasonable amount of power—about as much as a refrigerator and a sonic shower combined each. Of course, that meant it would more than double the power bill in a typical Xolnaran home. If every family on Xolnar installed a Printer and RoboChef, it surely would overtax the power infrastructure. She would also need to purchase and install a dedicated Omnicom for the appliances, as Xolnar did not have its own planet-wide computing network: they relied on the Weber’s World Web.

“Why do you suppose Xolnarans don’t have 3D Printers and RoboChefs?” Dori asked Alder Lokasenna the next day.

“A lot of reasons, I suppose,” said Alder. “The miners are an independent, rough and traditional bunch. Change is difficult to accept, and mining life is supposed to be hard. And those sorts of appliances are usually provided and maintained as a government benefit: Xolnaran government isn’t particularly set up to help the miners individually; it’s mostly run by representatives of the Mining Concerns. Besides, we do well enough without them. Civilization managed for thousands of years on Earth without them.”

The safe deposit box was keyed to her father’s thumbprint. Alder had prepared the necessary legal forms, and it was reprogrammed to accept Dori as the new owner. The bank manager unlocked his control with a thumbprint-scan, then asked if they wanted privacy in opening the box. Dori declined. She pressed her thumb against the lock, and the box slowly slid open.

There was nothing inside except a small, old-fashioned metal key. On the head were carefully inscribed the initals, “U E”. On the reverse, the initials “N I M”.

“What do you think it means,” asked Dori.

“I have no idea,” said Alder Lokasenna. “I checked the bank records, this box was originally your mother’s. It came into you father’s possession after she died. Apparently, he removed all the contents, except this key. Do you have any idea what it might open?”

“No idea at all,” said Dori.

There was a locksmith in the local hardware store in Seventh City. “What can you tell me about this key?” Dori asked him, after Alder had left. The little bald man took the key from her.

“It’s not really a key, per se,” he said. “That is, there isn’t any lock that it would open. It’s more like a key that would be used to wind up a child’s toy, such as an old music box, a mechanical train, or a dancing clown. I’ll tell you one more thing about it, though.” He dropped the key on his counter. It made a musical ringing note. “Looks to me like it’s made of solid silver.”

Dori took the key back to her home in Sixteenth City. She put it in the locket she had originally bought to keep Bil Katz’ pressed flower in. It rattled a bit, so she wrapped it in a piece of cloth. She hung the locket around her neck again, carrying yet another mystery with her.

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CHAPTER TWO: SUMMER

The next day turned out to be WinterMelt.

Summer comes on fast in equatorial Xolnar, and throughout the day, the temperature rose twenty-five degrees Celsius. Melting snow and ice flooded the streets, carried away by giant drains. By sundown, tiny green shoots were already pushing their way out of the ground, and the black-barked trees were budding. Tomorrow, or the day after, the first animals and birds would emerge from their long hibernation, first stripping the loose bark from the trees, then attacking the fern-like grass and flowers, eating them almost as fast as they could grow.

Tomorrow would be a perfect day to visit her new property in Ninth City.

It seemed a perfectly ordinary tract of land, on the outskirts of the city. Dori visited another hardware store, this time in Sixteenth City, and bought herself a portable prospector’s sensor array. She returned to the Ninth City property, and went over the entire area carefully. The ground was muddy, and the new grass was now growing up past her ankles. It was a long and sometimes sticky task, and in the end, she had found nothing: no mineral deposits, no buried treasure chests, nothing.

She returned to Sixteenth City, and searched the mortaging records. Her father had bought the property for cash, about thirty weeks before her mother passed away.

“They were going to build a new house,” Dori deduced. “Because with three, the house in Seventh City was beginning to look too small. Maybe with a big fenced yard for me to play in. But then Mah died, and Dah… well, he started the journey to becoming the person I knew him as.”

She wished she could have remembered those days, when her parents were newlyweds, and new parents, and seemed so—well, happy, yes, but also defiant in their happiness together.

The next project was the kitchen appliances.

Dori called up to the Seventh City Satellite to have them fuel and ready her cruiser. “Are you taking her out?” Dockmaster Belinda asked.

“For a trial run,” said Dori. “I will be re-docking in a few days at Sixteenth City Satellite.” There was a palpable look of relief on Dockmaster Belinda’s face.

“I have to warn you,” said Dockmaster Belinda, “This is an old ship. We did the best we could, but it could do with a complete engine refit. It will run all right, but it’s slow, and burns a lot of fuel. I would suggest you take it to a qualified Rocket Mechanic or two, and have some serious work done on it.”

“I think I know just the ones,” said Dori.

Dori took the long TubeCube commute to Seventh City. Her personal flyer was docked above Sixteenth City, soon both her vessels would be there. On her way to the elevator, she stopped by Neutrino Way. The little house she was renting looked good in the Summersun. Mrs. Toorbin was out in the small front yard, their little girl, now a toddler, playing happily in the tall grass. Tiny rabbit-like xolnae peeked through here and there.

She had brought quite a few items to stock the cruiser. A new, custom-designed flight suit, her father’s warmsuit (you never knew), a more modern navicomp, a small mess kit. She loaded a package of Xolnaran sandwiches onto the cruiser as well.

“I ought to buy a Printer and RoboChef for this ship, too,” she thought. “That would allow me hot meals on board. Not sure I could meet the power requirements, though. Not without some serious re-engineering.” She set course for Thanar.

Gaal Jindrich did not look well at all. He slumped even more in his hoverchair, his cheeks were sunken, he had dark circles under his eyes.

“Sometimes I think I would go back on the Rejuvium just to get a decent night’s sleep,” said Gaal Jindrich. “Eighty-five years doesn’t seem so long a time, sometimes, but I think it might be long enough for me. I’ve seen a lot more of the galaxy than most folks.”

“I brought your old cruiser,” said Dori. “Would you like to see it?”

“No, thanks,” said Gaal Jindrich. “Too tired for excursions these days, Dori. Glad to see it’s being put to good use, though.”

“I re-named it the XSS Manakahas,” said Dori. “But my Mah and Dah called it ‘Eva’s Wardrobe’.”

Gaal Jindrich chuckled. “That was my little sister Eva. Loved those old stories. If there were such a thing as trips to a real fairyland, she would have been the first to sign up to go.”

“My father bought one-hundred-sixty acres of land on Xolnar, just before Mah died. Do you know what they planned to do with it?”

“Sorry, don’t know. Like I say, I kind of lost touch with your Mah a little. We were a lot of years apart, didn’t really grow up together… Xolmar seemed pretty far away back then. Your Dah, well, the prospecting business had ended, and we were always more partners than friends. He had a lot of strong opinions; I didn’t always agree with him. I liked them both, though, deep down. Good people, your Mah and Dah.”

Dori opened the locket, and showed Gaal Jindrich the tiny silver key. “This was the only item in a safe deposit box they owned,” she said. “Does it mean anything to you? I was told it might belong to a child’s toy.”

“I’ve got a lot of years, and a lot of memories to sort through, but, nothing, nope, sorry, not right away. Nothing comes to mind. From what I understand, Eva was more one for books than toys, but by that time I was out on my own, asteroid-hopping, you know.”

“I’m sorry to press you like this,” said Dori, “But you’re my only link to the past. I thought I knew my Dah, but he was very different that I ever imagined.”

“No, no, it’s nice. Makes me feel useful,” said Gaal Jindrich. “Just about all I can do nowadays is reminisce about the past. And you’re my only kin, Dori. I’d leave you Stillwater in my will, but I’m determined to give it to the employees. And I’d give you my sigellian collection right now, but there’s too much paperwork involved.”

“I found Dah’s, by the way. It was on the cruiser.”

“Hmn. Good for you. Very valuable stuff, sigellian.” Gaal Jindrich’s eyes were getting heavy. “Made our fortune, your Dah and me.” His head dropped to his chest, and he began to snore. Dori waited for awhile, then, feeling Uncle Gaal must need his sleep, went back up to the cruiser.

She had accessed a manual for the Vanishing Box. In addition to DNA sensors, it was supposed to be telepathically sensitive. Dori faced the box away from her, just in case she failed, and thought, “Top box, top box.” A mechanical sense of confidence seemed to radiate from the little box, and it opened.

In the first compartment of the Vanishing Box was a small gold ring. Inside was a brief inscription: “and they shall be one”. Her mother’s wedding ring.

Had her father had a wedding ring? she wondered. She pictured his hands, knobby and callused. She never recalled seeing a ring of any sort. The ring in the little box was much too small for Dori, even for her little finger. She reached back in her mind, far back, trying to picture her mother’s hands, lifting her up, holding a memory crystal, or poised over a keyboard. Pale hands, with short, well-trimmed nails, fingers long and delicate. And a plain gold band on the fourth finger of the left hand. This was that ring. She couldn’t wear it herself, so she unwrapped the little key, wrapped the key and ring together in the dark silk, placing them both back in the top of the Vanishing Box.

She visited the second-hand appliance dealer on Thanar, and purchased two 3D Printers, a supply of Solid Ink, two RoboChefs, and two new Omnicoms. She also discovered they sold trans-suits, and bought an extra one for the cruiser, which nearly doubled the amount of her original purchase.

She spent a couple of days in orbit above Thanar, stowing one set of appliances in the cargo bay, and installing the other set on the bridge. It made things a little crowded on one side; she had to re-calibrate the gyros when it was all done. As an experiment, she dumped a couple of sandwich packets into the hopper for the RoboChef. It took a short time to sort the ingredients, then Dori pulled up a list of possible menus. The original sandwiches themselves were there, of course, but also some new items: toasted cheese, pancakes or waffles with ham, something called triticale soup. Well, she would have to experiment with the RoboChef at home, and then provide the appropriate ingredients for her favorite meals the next time she took the ship out.

She had a couple of ideas to improve the cruiser. She set course, leaving Thanar behind.

More mysteries! Eager to see what happens next on Dori's search, Klar.

CHAPTER THREE: REPAIRS

* * *

Dori’s first stop was Throon, the planet of strange, ancient technology revitalized by the Legion of Substitute Heroes. As the Throonan Constitution required that the world be governed by meta-humans, misfits from across the Galaxy had been flocking to it for a dozen years.

It was only a half-day’s flight from Thanar, but unmistakably outside the U. P.

Dori did not recognize any of the Substitute Legion who greeted her, but they seemed to recognize her. They were all terribly young, but happy to introduce themselves.

The first identified himself as Adonais of Geeqou, also known as Prince Charming .

The second was a semi-humanoid giant, evidently constructed of some shiny yellow stone. She introduced herself as Rhoda of the Citron Clan of the Jade People, from the planet Lapidarus Yu, and known among the Substitutes as Goldbrick .

The third was a bird-girl named Papagena .

Dori was going to ask them for the temporary use of their Urk-2, the technological hyper-savant, but the little Marícelestial gremling attacked her ship with glee as soon as it landed. The little creature emerged, apparently well-satisfied, after only an hour or so. Inside, Dori could not see what it had done to her ship, aside from some obvious superficial cleaning, but she trusted the little creature for a tune-up more than any sapient mechanic.

Unfortunately, the antique engines were still not generating enough power to both run all the shipboard systems, and the Solid Printer and RoboChef®.

Her next stop then would be Malthus, a significantly longer journey.

She was greeted on by another of the interchangeable little blue people.

“I am Qwon Quinn Quagga,” he introduced himself. “I will be your guide for your stay on Malthus.” He led her to another one of the small, open homes she and Ulu and Zel had stayed in before. “Have you conveyed our message to the United Planets about our desire to establish trading relations? Ah, I see in your mind you have not. “

“I’m sorry,” said Dori. “I forgot. I have been rather… preoccupied lately.”

“The Malthusian race is billions of years old. We are well acquainted with forgetting,” said Qwon Quinn Quagga. “But we are also familiar with patience. Remember us to your leaders when you can.”

“I did meet Ganthet and Sayd, though,” said Dori.

“Ah, I see in your mind you mean the Ganthet and Sayd who died a thousand years ago. Of course, that is not possible. Of course, Ganthet and Sayd are common enough names among Malthusians. Almost as common as ‘Laurel Gand’ on Daxam. There are a trillion Malthusians on Malthus, and scattered throughout the Galaxy. Natually, anyone might call themselves Ganthet and Sayd.” Qwon Quinn Quagga smiled innocently.

Dori saw this line of conversation was fruitless. “The last time I was here,” she said, “You upgraded the engines of our cruiser for the price of refueling, plus one credit. I wonder if the same arrangement might be available to me for my new cruiser.”

Qwon Quinn Quagga stared briefly out into space. “You believe you were undercharged,” he said. “And have returned to exploit that opportunity. We will refuel your vehicle, but will not upgrade your engines for less than… three credits.”

Dori reluctantly agreed, attempting to shield her thoughts as much as possible from Qwon Quinn Quagga. If many more people became aware of this technology, Malthus might actually end up charging people what it was worth.

“I am a student of other races throughout the galaxy,” Qwon Quinn Quagga explained. “I have been studying the Terran tea ceremonies, a cultural ritual fraught with deep philosophical and spiritual significance in your culture. Would you do me the honor of sharing this with me?”

Dori agreed, although with real reluctance this time. She had had enough teas in her dreams recently.

“I give you the choice of the Japanese, Indian, or English tea ceremonies,” Qwon Quinn Quagga announced solemnly.

“English, please,” said Dori, trying to suppress a giggle.

Qwon Quinn Quagga produced a very authentic-looking blue china teapot, with matching cups and tea-plates. He then produced a tray of the same multi-colored gelatin cubes Dori and her friends had eaten on their last visit. He produced a second tray for himself—it was like a conjuring-trick—although these gelatin cubes were mottled grey and brown. Each tray also held the same, small, non-peanut.

“Terran and Malthusian physiologies are sufficiently divergent as to require entirely different nutritional profiles,” he explained. “Oh, but I see that these foodstuffs lack the appropriate familiarity necessary for the tea ceremony.” Dori’s platter of gelatin cubes was transformed into cucumber sandwiches and little chocolate cakes. It was entirely an illusion: Dori could still feel the gelatin cubes beneath the outward appearance, and they were as watery and tasteless as before. The ‘tea’ in the pot was apparently just hot water, but Dori ate and drank as merrily as if she were back in Metropolis—and with very much the same sincerity.

“The concept of ‘tea’ is entirely contrary to Malthusians notions of sustenance,” said Qwon Quinn Quagga. “It is entirely non-nutritive, but to Terrans, appeals to the senses with its strong and subtle flavors. To the Terran constitution it is paradoxically invigorating and relaxing. The Malthusian diet, on the other hand, lacks visual, gustatory, or olfactory appeal—indeed, is neutral to all the senses—yet is perfectly balanced nutritionally.”

“I suppose the human senses of taste and smell evolved to help distinguish good food from bad, when both were in equal supply. Malthus has been in existence so long, this function is no longer necessary, I suppose,” said Dori.

“The difference between a hero and a villain,” said Qwon Quinn Quagga, apropos of nothing, “May sometimes be found only in when and how they choose to interfere.” He smiled. “This is intended as a statement of deep philosophical and ethical import, which will recall itself to your mind in a future moment of crisis.”

“Thank you,” said Dori. “Lovely weather you have on Malthus at this time of year.”

“Sodam Yat is not as mad as he seems,” said Qwon Quinn Quagga.

“Really?” said Dori. “And are you Malthusians as mad as you seem?”

“Do not judge us all by Ngyah Ngyah Ngyang, and Ganthet and Sayd,” said Qwon Quinn Quagga. “Long life sometimes brings madness, but often also brings wisdom. There are those who have studied the Terran races far longer than I, with whom you might be more comfortable. But we wish to exercise only the smallest energies necessary to guide you on your path. Now, you see, I have overstepped my bounds. You are concerned that Malthus is manipulating you. Perhaps we are, but only that you might recognize the vistas of possibility that lie before you. Complete submission to the Seven Deadly Enemies of Man, or utter powerlessness and extinction, are not the only options. There are a myriad of middle grounds. It is for you to choose your own path among.”

“And here I thought you were going telling me that Ganthet is dead,” said Dori.

“Ah, one can only wish that he had stayed that way,” said Qwon Quinn Quagga. “But now he has written his Histories, and will live forever. You find we Malthusians amusing, with our apparent failure to grasp what you believe is most essential.” He shrugged. “May you never meet the Poglachians, and discover how terrifying a sense of humor can truly be.” He put his teacup down. “Your ship is ready,” he said.

“We have re-fueled your ship, and upgraded your engine nacelles and control systems,” said the Malthusian engineer. We also upgraded your trans-suits, as they displayed a window of vulnerability to… I believe you call it, ‘trans-Feynmanium radiations’. That will be one credit extra,” he said with a look of cunning.

“I cannot tell you what your engines are truly worth,” said Dori. “As far as I can tell, they work at the theoretical limits of efficiency. You might be able to get a Coluan to tell you. But one of the principles of Terran economics is that you may charge what the market can bear. Think about that.”

“Or,” said the Malthusian engineer, “it is possible that United Planets credits themselves are of little worth on Malthus, and it doesn’t really matter what we charge, as long as our engines are going to the right place. You never know.”

“You Malthusians,” said Dori, “Are a confounding blend of opacity and forthrightness.”

“Perhaps we wish to remind you,” said the engineer, “That even when we are at our most straightforward, there are deeper implication that you may not fully understand. Or perhaps we merely enjoy messing with your mind. Tread carefully, Dori Aandraison, for you stand precariously at the Perimeter of Wisdom.”

As with her last trip to Malthus, Dori left with a headache. Now she felt as if her skull were full of cobwebs.

The Throonan Subs seem to multiply like rabbits. I do not have a complete list, but they tend to turn up scribbled all over the margins of my notebooks. Here are a few others I might have used in this episode.

Other members of the Substitute Legion of Super-Heroes of Throon:

Knucklewalker: Frog-faced, ram’s-horned 9-foot-tall gorillazoid-ish alien with Timber Wolf-class super-strength and an 8th-level intellect on the Coluan scale. Sardonic, ironic, and somewhat irritating personality.

Flower Girl: Power to transform seeds directly and instantaneously into flowers without going through the various intermediary plant stages.

Kid Kabbalah: Possesses various mystical abilities related to the Kabbalistic tradition. For example, his ‘Merkabah’ power gives him the ability to ascend up to heaven in a whirlwind of fire, in order to gain arcane knowledge, mystical insight and / or temporary magical or miraculous abilities from The Presence. Or, just travel around on a whirlwind of fire.

Fetcher: Employs a small tamed demon-imp (named Gobanrech) which is able to locate and retrieve any object or objects in existence at the present time, merely by hearing them described in sufficient detail. e.g. “Please bring me all lost 1963 U.S. pennies, that is, those not currently in the possession or control of any other individual.” Voila! Instant riches.

Personality Pete: Every morning when he wakes up, Pete has a new personality. Some have unusual or remarkable abilities: high charisma, super-intelligence, artistic ability. He gets the occasional psychopath or sociopath. Pete retains all the memories of his past “incarnations”, but has no sense of congruity or continuance of experience from one personality to another.. Mostly, the variations are subtle, at least to the outside observer. The remarkable personalities show up perhaps once or twice a year.
Subjectively, however, each of these separate personalities knows that sleep equals death—at least, for the current personality. For some, this is an overwhelming existential anxiety. The terror of annihilation keeps them awake for days, until sleep deprivation finally overtakes them. For others, it is an excuse to live life for the next twenty-four hours to the fullest, as though there is no tomorrow—which, in fact, for him, there is not.

Some of them sound like they could qualify as full Legionnaires.

Personality Pete....I would not want to be him.

CHAPTER FOUR: CAPTURED

It is unusual in the vacuum of interstellar space to encounter anything larger than a dust mote between destinations. Dori was therefore surprised when the proximity alarm sounded. She was on a near-collision course with three fairly large objects. She approved the suggested course correction, and the target objects changed course as well. Fearing the worst, she brought the sensors to maximum, but still could not resolve the image at this distance. She checked the registry broadcasts. It was worse than she expected.

She was being targeted by three Khund warships.

“United Planets Vessel, Xolnar Star Ship Manakahas, you have trespassed into Khundish Space. Prepare to come to a full stop, and be boarded by representatives of the Khundish Empire.”

Dori checked her star maps. She was clearly within United Planets territory. The nearest world—less than a parsec away—was Millenius, a recently inhabited world which claimed to the one-thousandth Terran colony since the New Expansion.

On the one hand, Dori hated Khunds, for what they had done on Xolnar. On the other hand, they were entirely predictable. The big yellow Khund that boarded her ship was built like a small tree—or perhaps a bear that had recently swallowed a small tree. He was covered in cybernetic weaponry. Obviously, he was the leader. The pink Khund was smaller, barely Dori’s size. He had a meek, subservient posture, and was covered with cybernetic sensors and communications devices. Clearly he was the brains, but beaten down by Khundish society and custom sufficiently that he would not even think of questioning the orders of his superior.

“Clearly, you are a United Planets spy,” said Big Yellow. “Your ship will be confiscated, and you will be executed.”

“Actually, I am Dori Aandraison, a private citizen of Earth. I am also a retiree from the U.P. Diplomatic Corps, and it is perfectly clear to me what is going on here.” That would give them pause. Actual United Planets spies often were retired diplomats. “Your stealth exploration vehicles have located something valuable between Millenius and the actual Khundish border. Probably an old, dead world with some interestingly advanced technology. You intend to hold the Millenius Colony hostage, in order to grant a border concession from the U.P., without revealing the nature of your discovery.”

“You see?” Big Yellow shouted to Little Pink. “She is a spy!”

“And this is what you will do with my ship,” said Dori. “You will allow me to take the three of us to Millenius, where I will place my vessel in a stable orbit. You will then take me to the surface, where you will imprison me with the rest of the hostage colonists, because in your experience, indiscriminately killing United Planets citizens tends to delay negotiations. You are not here to start a war, you are here to get firm control over your new discovery. Then you will start a war.”

“She is essentially correct,” Little Pink advised Big Yellow. “If she is a spy, we can always kill her later, when the negotiations with the United Planets are completed. Let her be humiliated by helpless imprisonments for now. Remember that while Millenius is unquestionably in Khundish Space, the United Planets may at present hold a different position.”

Dori took the controls of her cruiser. “You must explain to me all your actions before you take them,” said Little Pink. “You will do exactly as we say. My superior is… impatient… with insubordination.”

“And the two of you will leave my controls alone. Now powering up engines. Do not touch anything. Setting course for Millenius. Co-ordinates are displayed here. This is an old vessel, and the mechanisms here are delicate. Requesting on-board computer to calculate stable orbit trajectory. See how I am not alerting Millenius to our arrival. I am now shutting down external ship communications. Do not interfere with my 3D Printer or RoboChef®. I hope you have communication with your commanders, and will let them know that we are arriving, I do not wish to be shot out of the sky. Please to not touch that little black box. It is called a Vanishing Box for a reason. Please do not touch it, Khund Leader. Let me complete this operation, and I will show you the memory chip in the base, and how to operate it. Please do not touch it. Please, Brother Fox, don’t throw me in that old briar patch. This sequence of keys will lock in the orbital approach. I hope you have contacted your superiors. Please don’t…”

“A tachyon transmission signal has been detected,” said Little Pink. “I believe it was triggered when Khund Leader attempted to open the Vanishing Box.”

“I requested that you leave my equipment alone,” said Dori. “These devices are very sensitive.”

The dynamic between Little Pink and Big Yellow had changed.

“This is your fault,” said Big Yellow. “You were paying too much attention to the flight controls. You should have been examining the other on-board equipment as well, and not left it to me to do so.”

“I have a full record of these proceedings,” said Little Pink. “We will see who the High Commander will find at fault when they are replayed.”

“You will not transmit those recordings,” said Big Yellow. “We are dealing with a case of espionage. Certain material may need to be redacted.” Big Yellow was sweating. Little Pink radiated the Khundish confidence of a flunky who had undeniably caught his superior in an indiscretion.

“Now entering orbit around Millenius,” said Dori. “Please do not disturb my equipment. Leave everything on-board undisturbed. I am now your prisoner.”

Dori had chosen an orbit far above what would have been usually recommended. On approach, here sensors had detected that Millenius was surrounded by a nearly invisible force-sphere. Big Yellow and Little Pink gripped her solidly, without commenting on what was now occuring. A Khundish vessel had placed the Manakahas in a tractor beam, and was pulling towards the faint glimmer of the force-field. A small hole opened up, a clear sharpness replacing a faint blurriness. The orbital momentum of the Manakahas was adjusted, and it was released from the tractor beam. A shuttle with two Khundish guards even larger and burlier than Big Yellow arrived to take Dori down to the planet.

The single city on Millenius was contained within similar a force-bubble. Guards at the entrance to the city created a similar temporary portal for Dori to walk through, and then the city was shut tight again—imprisoned.

What troublemakers these Khunds are!

Will Little Pink turn into an ally?

And who else is imprisoned down there?

CHAPTER FOUR: THE COUNCIL OF ARCHONS

Dori approached the first Terran she came across. “Can you tell me who is in charge of the colony here?” she asked. “Other than the Khunds, I mean.”

“The Council of Archons, of course,” said the colonist. “Are you a stranger here? How did you come through the shield?”

“I am not a native of your world,” said Dori. “My star-cruiser was just impounded by the Khunds. Who is the head of the Council? Is there a way I can see them?”

“The Alpha Archon is the supreme leader of the Council of Archons,” said the colonist. “You could try following the roads to the city center—the colony is set up like the spokes on a wheel, with the governmental offices at the hub. But I doubt that the Council will see you. They have other concerns right now, as you may have noticed.”

The Council chambers were not difficult to find: every other building was made of standard pre-fabricated Colony materials, while a single building in the center of the city was made of hewn stone. SP officers stood outside the Council chambers, but they had apparently been unarmed by the Khund invaders.

“The Khunds captured my ship, and imprisoned me in your city,” Dori explained. “I would like to speak to the Council of Archons, if possible. I am a retired member of the Diplomatic Corps, and could possibly be helpful.”

The SP’s agreed with Dori’s request, however, she would have to wait a while.. There were apparently several other SP on a regular patrol. When one eventually passed the Council chambers, the guards motioned to him, then sent him in to ask the Council their opinion. The guard returned, and accompanied Dori to a small office.

Alpha Archon Kagami was a woman about Dori’s age, and completely unremarkable in appearance. Her coal-black hair was liberally streaked with strands of white. She looked very tired.

“You have come at a very bad time,” she said. “The Khund’s shield cuts us off from our farms and fields. We have begun rationing what little food is left. Several of the colony staged a protest outside the Council chambers yesterday, which turned violent. The SP were not able to restrain them, as our weapons have been confiscated. Only the intervention of another, opposing band of colonists was able to break up the mob. The colony is now dividing into factions. I am not sure how much longer we can sustain a fragile peace.”

“Do you have any idea what the Khunds are up to?”

“It is clear we are to be held as hostages. However, it has been nearly a week, and as far as I know, the Khunds have not contacted Weber’s World with their demands. We assume it has something to do with this new force-bubble technology. The shield appears as strong as a Coluan force-field, if not stronger, and has its own self-contained power source. It is operated from within, but the Khunds guard the controls vigilantly, and we have been unable to approach it. Our only hope is that the Khunds will quickly contact the U.P., and the U.P. will quickly accede to their demands.”

Dori had a glimmer of an idea. “Do you have any meta-humans among your population?”

The Alpha Archon looked horrified. “Of course not. And at any rate, resistance directed against the Khunds would be utterly futile.”

“The U.P. was made somewhat aware of your situation here a few hours ago,” said Dori. “I was not able to transmit detailed information, but you should be seeing a response shortly.”

The Alpha Archon shrugged. “The only response we can hope for is rapid capitulation by Weber’s World,” she insisted.

There was little else Dori could do or say. She felt helpless. She wandered back to the shield controls, where she had entered the city, not knowing where else to go. The Khunds guarding the station would not allow her within a hundred feet.

The colonists ignored her for the most part. The most she received was a glance of curiosity, perhaps mingled with fear. They knew her to be an off-worlder, and thus suspect to the Khunds.

“Dori, I believe we had an appointment?” said a voice behind her. “I have been waiting for you for nearly half-a-day.”

It was Bil Katz.

CHAPTER FIVE: AN OLD… FRIEND?

Bil Katz wore a violently pink shirt trimmed with pearly-grey lace. His slacks were a soft mauve color. His boots were of dark maroon leather, and he wore a cloak of the same maroon coloring with the hood pulled down around his shoulders.

So the I.C.C. had sent ‘Pimpernel’ in response to her tachyon distress beacon. And he had arrived a half-a-day before she had sent it.

“What have you been doing here?” Dori asked.

“Same as you,” said Bil Katz. “Captured by the Khunds when my flyer got too close to Millenius Colony.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion at the shield control station. An extremely large and well-accoutremented Khund was pushing through the just-opened shield. His attention was focused on Dori, and he marched over to her, accompanied by two brutish Khund guards.

The Khund was battle-scarred, and appeared quite old, for a Khund. This was dangerous, Dori thought. He was either smart enough, ruthless enough, or tough enough to have survived to this age, in a society that did not encourage survival.

“Here we have,” said the Khund, ‘Bil Katz, famed holo-star, what you call, I believe, a ‘B-List Actor’. Well-known for his frequent inebriation and womanizing, he was apprehended near Millenius Colony by my troops. Apparently he was in this sector only by an accident of faulty navigation. And here we have,” he continued, gesturing to Dori, “Dori Aandraison, former First-Contact Ambassador and Diplomat of the United Planets, freedom-fighter and free-lance resistance member, and veteran of the Xolnar War. Again, apparently near Millenius Colony only by accident. But she has tricked one of my finest lieutenants into sending an encrypted message to the United Planets from her ship. Now, one Earthling accidentally in this area would be unusual, but it strains credulity to believe that two are here by coincidence. Now, which of these two Earthlings do I think is here under false pretenses?” he asked, rhetorically.

Dori and Bil met the Khunds query with stony and puzzled silence, respectively.

“You do not recognize, me!” The old Khund shouted, pushing Bil Katz to the side, and put his face nose-to-nose with Dori’s. “I am General Lahomok! I, too, was at Xolnar,” he said. “Your people fought there like dragons. But fight us as you will, now, it do you no good.” Dori’s aura brightened, and she began to glow visibly gold with fear.

“With this new technology, we are invincible!” he continued. “Soon, it will be fully installed, then let your United Planets warships come! Perhaps we will take Millenius Colony as our own immediately, and forego hostage negotiations!” He slapped Dori hard across the face. She dropped to the ground, pleasantly surprised to see that she had felt nothing of the assault through her golden force-shield.

Back in the street, Dori hissed quietly to Bil Katz, “I cannot believe this innocent routine of yours works so well so consistently. Now, how long before any real help is coming?”

“The military S.P.s should be able to muster a fleet here within twelve hours,” said Bil. “I was able to relay a message that it was Khunds we are up against, but I could not tell them about this new force-globe technology. If they have installed it on their ships, I’m afraid our fleet may be ill-prepared. Fortunately, with the two of us here now, all will be well.”

“Just what do you think the two of us can do?” asked Dori. “Get past the Khunds? Warn the U.P. forces? Liberate the Colony ourselves?”

“Exactly so,” said Bil Katz. “Dori, you went through Legion Battle Training, albeit only with the Substitutes. But tell me, if you were ambushed by two opponents, one an ugly bruiser with a scar over each eye and a nose broken in two places, and one as beautiful as a fashion model, which would you go after first?”

“You mean, assuming I can’t run away?” asked Dori.

Bil Katz smiled. “Quite. We will assume that is not an option.”

“Well,” said Dori, “I guess I would go after the pretty one first. If I can’t defeat her, I’ve lost anyway. She’s the most dangerous—she’s the one who never allows herself to get hit.”

“Exactly so,” said Bil Katz. “Dori, you and I are dangerous. We are the pretty ones.”

They had been walking to the side of the city opposite the shield controls. Dori bumped right up against the near-invisible wall. She noted the cracks in the ground which indicated that this was, indeed, a bubble, and not merely a dome. Summoning up all the fear she had been suppressing, she saw her aura brighten, then blaze into gold.

“I have my own personal force-field, which may be as strong as theirs,” Dori said. “And I want to try something.” She pushed against the shield surrounding the city. Her golden-aura-clad hand slipped through the shield as if it were not there.

“Can you take me out with you?” Bil Katz asked. “I have a trick of my own.” He pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, and promptly vanished. “Unscannable technology,” he explained. “Sorcerer’s World magic. A tarn-cape.” He uncovered his head, and re-appeared. “I have been doing some reconnaissance around the city; the people here are cowed; I don’t think we could muster much resistance. I might be able to do some sabotage among the Khunds, if you could get me through this shield.”

Confident now that she could thwart the Khund’s technology, and more confident now that there was at least one person on her side, Dori relaxed. Her golden aura faded. “I’m having a little problem maintaining my powers,” Dori explained to Bil Katz.

“{What a paradox},” Dori thought to herself. “{As long as I’m afraid, I have nothing to fear. But unafraid, I am in real danger.}”

She thought some more. There was plenty of fear on this planet: the colonists were imprisoned, facing starvation, and surely terrified. Perhaps if she could tap into that…

Dori opened her mind. She felt the fear of the colonists flow into her aura. She opened her eyes. Her golden aura was as bright as she had ever seen it. The inklings of a plan formed in her mind.

“I know you would like to get outside, and do some invisible espionage,” Dori told Bil. “But I think I have a better plan. Do you happen to know how hard these Khundish shuttles to fly?”

“They’re pretty straightforward—just point and go,” said Bil Katz. “Can’t make anything too easy for a Khund. And they have no locks or security of any kind. Khunds tend to think no one would be foolish enough to steal from them. For the most part, they’re right.”

“Then this is what I need you to do,” said Dori. “I want you to talk to the colonists. I imagine you are pretty good at starting rumors. I need you to feed the fear that’s smoldering here. Tell them how ruthless the Khunds are. Tell them the U.P. has abandoned them. Tell them about guillotines… I don’t know, but keep as many colonists as fearful as you can. And if you can manage to get a panicked mob to take control of the shields away from the Khunds, do it. Mobs can be built on fear, as well as courage. That shield can keep the Khunds out, just as surely as it can keep the colonists in. If I succeed, you’ll know within the hour. If I fail, well, you’ll have to come up with a Plan B.”

Bil Katz looked at her contemplatively. “You think like a Hero,” he said. “That’s going to get you killed someday.”

Dori circumnavigated the city, looking for the nearest possible shuttle. There was one unattended about a hundred yards from the city. She effortlessly walked through the force-globe, and out into the open. She was immediately spotted, and the Khund soldiers immediately opened fire. The blasts ricocheted harmlessly off her force-field. More Khunds joined the fray. She drew on the fear in the city behind her, strengthening her shield.

The nine heads of the Entities reared up in the back of her mind.

She felt herself falling, then floating, disembodied. She was deep in a jungle, somewhere, somewhen. Two ape-like creatures, one black, one brown, were fighting over a carcass. The black ape was clearly superior in strength, and tore the carcass away from the little brown one, and began to walk away with it. The little brown ape grabbed a large stone from the ground, and with its extra-long arms, brought the stone down on the back of the head of the black ape. The scene froze, just as the stone was about to connect.

“See the origin of the Khundish race,” the voices of the Entities narrated. “This murderer is the ancestor of all Khunds. If he were to die here, it would never come into being. If he had never existed…”

Dori saw time stretched out again, the atoms of this little ape swirling and cascading into the past and future. Rage welled up in her: rage against the Khunds, at their constant depredations against all intelligent life. She could immolate the little ape: turn him to a pile of ashes before he struck the killing blow…

“This is intended as a statement of deep philosophical and ethical import, which will recall itself to your mind in a future moment of crisis,” she heard Qwon Quinn Quagga say in her memory.

Dori wrenched herself back to reality. She still stood in the midst of a barrage of Khundish weaponry, an empty shuttle only a few steps away. She heard General Lahomok shout above the fray, “Target the shuttle!”

Dori reached back into the city with her mind, draining its inhabitants of their fear, strengthening her shields. She broadcast it out, along the ground, enveloping the Khundish shuttle with glittering gold. Once Inside, she took her time mapping out her flight-path. She could afford to, as long as the shields held. She was increasingly nervous. The plan had seemed so simple in her mind, but now her own fear was feeding the shields, in addition to that of the colonists. She searched for her star-cruiser with the Khundish sensor array. Bil Katz had been right: it was child’s play to operate. There was his ship in orbit… and there was hers. Surely General Lahomok would have figured out her plan by now. But no:as she approached her cruiser, she saw two Khundish ships were moving into position between it and the global shield-bubble. She would have to get by them, and through the shield, to get back into space. “{He must be thinking I plan to escape},” she thought. “{He doesn’t know me very well.}”

Inside her cruiser, she dropped the golden force-field around the shuttle, and wrapped it around her cruiser. The shuttle was immediately destroyed. Something else else was happening: there was a lessening of fear from the cities. There was, however, a growing trepidation among the junior Khund officers nearby. Dori tapped into that, as well. She set course down, back to the city, changed out of her flight suit, even stowing her trans-suit away. She changed into the specially-designed flight suit she had brought on board earlier. It was bulky, and difficult to move in. She prepared to exit through the cargo bay doors, but first…

Dori had taken the precaution, with the protection of the Malthusian-enhanced trans-suit, of wrapping each speck of sigellian in lead foil. She now unwrapped the red sigellian chip, and placed the box carefully on the floor.

She felt a brief sense of overwhelming dizziness and disorientation. There was that peculiar tingling sensation again. Then, once again, emerging from her cruiser onto the solid ground of Millenius, she was a fifty-foot-tall, fifty-tonne giantess again.

Dori rampaged. There was no other word for it. Protected by her golden shield, fed by the growing terror of the Khunds, she smashed shuttles, ships, supply depots, anything she could get a foot or hand on. Eventually, the entire Khund invasion force fled back to orbit. Shortly, however, she was being bombarded again, with force-beams and energy torpedos from the sky. Some of the attack seemed to be targeting the city. Dori saw that the Khunds inside had formed a strong defense against the colonists; it was a stand-off, but the Khunds had control of the shield. Dori anticipated the next move: they would drop the shield, and destroy the city—perhaps even sacrifice the Khunds still left on the ground—in order to have their revenge against her, the United Planets, the colonist, whoever. They needed to have some victory to report to their superiors.

And she needed a quick victory, now.

Dori reached down through the energy-dome covering the city. She grabbed hold of the Khunds at the shield control station, tossing them outside the shield, two at a time. Shortly Bil Katz appeared, signaling thumbs-up. The colonists had control of the shield.

The Khund guards ran away. Dori saw them vanish into thin air—she hoped it was a teleporter, returning them to their ships, rather than a disintegration beam from their commanders. It had now been less than an hour since her sigellian exposure. She had at least five more hours as a giant, but probably ten hours at least until the U.P. forces showed up.

The Khundish bombardment from space was letting up. The ground outside the city was smoking and cratered, but Dori and the city itself were unharmed. Perhaps the fleet was running out of ammunition, or power, or will. Dori stalked over the ground. There was an area which appeared to have been un-targeted. Dori had a hunch. She recognized what must be the shield controls for the planetary containment bubble. She crushed it with one foot. The stars suddenly became brighter, sharper.

The Khundish bombardment had stopped completely. But there was something flying down from the sky.. some other ship or weapon?

“Oh, no, please,” thought Dori.

It was a Khundish Green Lantern.

The Green Lantern did not hesitate. A bolt of destructive energy flashed forth from his ring. The green energy twisted, deformed, then came to a halt in mid-air mere feet from Dori. The green ribbon metamorphosed into a huge serpent, tail pointing at Dori, dragon-like head and jaws facing back at the Khund Green Lantern. Its jaws twitched menacingly.

“{Oh, no, you don’t Ion},” Dori thought, forcing the Entity back into her mind. She absorbed the emerald energy mostly harmlessly, but felt a twinge of indigestion.

She had a strange sensation; her powers had never manifest like this before. She was peering through the Central Power Battery on Oa. Sodam Yat stood before it, gazing back at her.

“Honestly, Sodam Yat, a Khundish Green Lantern?” Dori shouted at him. “What were you thinking?”

The Green Lantern’s ring flew off his finger. “Nowak the Khund, you are no longer worthy to bear this ring!” the ring uttered, in Sodam Yat’s voice. Nowak the Khund’s Green Lantern uniform vanished, and he plummeted to the ground. Dori fell on one knee, and caught him handily. She placed him gently on the ground, and he began to run away like a madman.

Suddenly, there was a tear in the sky. A half-dozen Green Lanterns appeared above the Millenius colony. Among them, Dori recognized an Tsauron, a Gil’Disphan, and a Noc’sagite. Now, with something new to target, the Khundish Fleet opened fire again. It was like shooting ducks. Flying, glowing, green, invulnerable ducks.

After six hours, Dori felt the now-familiar tingling again. She removed her human-sized flight suit from the pocket of her giant-sized version, and quickly returned to her ship. She carefully re-wrapped and replaced the red sigellian fragment, and returned the little lead-lined box to its place of honor on her storage shelves.

By the time the U.P. fleet arrived, the Khunds had been imprisoned by the Green Lanterns, who were doing their best to restore the war-ravaged Millenius fields. United Planets weaponry was not required, but the ship’s food stores were distributed to the colonists, with more food aid promised until the next growing season.

Dori, by that time, had shrunk to the size of nine inches, and was peacefully sleeping on her gigantic bed in her stateroom aboard the XSS Manakahas.

Wow! You can certainly write action scenes just as well as you do more wuiet moments. Well done!

One of Pete's more philosophical personalities once theorized that Pete replicates extant personalities-- that his multiple identities are not unique. So it is possible that you will be Personality Pete at some time in the future... but just for one day.

Those Throonan Subs... the universe is a strange place.

I liked the irony of a trillion sentients living on a planet named Malthus. Also the way cities are numbered on Xolnar and the idea of Wintermelt. You've made Xolnar an interesting place, not just a frozen training camp.

Dori's search for answers continues to be a compelling mystery. She was very cool, James Bond-like when taken prisoner by Big Yellow and Little Pink - she knew they were dolts. When she encountered the General, she felt real, legitimate fear. The idea of using that fear to defeat rather than to be defeated is a good lesson for anyone. Worth the price of a cup of water "tea", in any event.

Cramer! Welcome to Earth-K.

Hopefully you have read my other fancid telling of how the Subs ended up inheriting the planet Throon: http://www.legionworld.net/forums/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=818730&page=1

As well as the ORIGINAL Throon story in Adventure Comics 319.

Read the original Adventure story but just started your Earth-K story. It's a long one but HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Long Live the Subs!