Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business RAINBOW GIRL: Book 26 - Healers

Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it,
For that your self ye daily such doe see:
But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,
And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me.
-- Joss Albens’ first love note to Bell Aden (quoting Edmund Spenser)

CHAPTER ONE - BELL

Bell Albens looked terrible.

The right side of her face was covered with a red, pimply, blistering rash. Much of the skin of her jaw and neck was dry, flakey, cracked and peeling. Her hair was thinning and greying, her eyes jaundiced and yellow. She had lost a terrible amount of weight.

Joss and Bell had asked Dori to meet them in the Jiuzhaigou Forest Park. Dori had not even known the two Mardruan farmers were on Jahnson’s World.

“When you told me to meet you here at the hospital, I was afraid something was wrong,” said Dori. “Bell, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you for coming, Dori,” said Joss. His flat, asymmetrical face was twisted in agony.

“Dr. Fa will see you now,” said the nurse on duty. Dori hesitated. The nurse nodded. “All three of you, yes,” she said.

Dr. Fa was tall and slender, and looked very young, but Dori was becoming used to that in people as the years went by.

“Dori, Bell is suffering from Giffen’s Disease,” said Dr. Fa. “It is quite a rare condition, found primarily on the Terran agricultural colony worlds, such as Winath and Mardru. I did my internship and post-graduate work on Manna-5, and am one of a small number of physicians well-acquainted with the disease.”

“Dr. Fa has been working with us for several months now,” said Joss. “We have been very grateful for her help-- and for her presence on Jahnson’s World.”

“Bell, I don’t like how this is progressing,” said Dr. Fa. She turned to Dori. “I need to explain the particulars of Giffen’s Disease.”
“By the late 21st century on Earth, genetically modified organisms were common, although the technology remained rudimentary. Primarily it was plant life that was modified, in an attempt to feed the ever-burgeoning population. Of course, the human population of Earth today is ten times what it was then. The primitive GMO technology of the time was sometimes haphazard, poorly understood, and poorly regulated.”
“When Earth left for the stars, they took their seeds with them. They also took with them some of the detritus of genetic modification from earlier centuries. One of those fragments evolved.”
“Giffen’s disease is a viral fragment which induces reorganization and modification of the human genome. Intestinal flora, for example, may be the source of invasive DNA, or even plants or animals in the local environment. This results in chaos in the patient’s metabolism. It affects every host differently: some may survive for decades with only minor disability.”

“I’m not one of those,” said Bell, in a croaking whisper. “Dr. Fa projects I might have only one or two years left.”

Dr. Fa frowned. “Having seen the progress of your illness,” said Dr. Fa, “I am sorry to say that original prognosis was almost certanly overly optimistic. But that is where you come in, Dori.”

“There is no recognized treatment for Giffen’s disease,” said Joss. “So we have been seeking alternative medicines. We first went to Medicus One and Daxam, of course, although we suspected they would be no help. Then we visited Orando, Talok VIII, and the Sorcerer’s World to consult the mystical healers there. We have even been looking for ReAnimage of the Wanderers, who has healing powers.”

“The Wanderers are in the Sculptor Galaxy,” said Dori. “Which is a long way from here. Brainiac 5 was looking for them as well.”

Dr. Fa sighed. “Our hope now lies in metahumans with healing abilities, which is why Joss and Bell are back on Jahnson’s Planet,” she said. “According to your biography, the indigo aspect of your aura has such healing properties.”

Dori had a brief pang at the memory of her mother’s death. “Yes, that’s true,” she said. “But I have poor control over those abilities. I cannot promise anything.”

“Dori,” said Joss. “We are still also hoping to contact Sodam Yat, and through him the various other Lantern Corps. We have a request in to Colu for assistance. We will be traveling to Avalon, once our visas are cleared. We are trying everything. You are not our last hope; but you are one hope. Do what you can.”

Dori sat across from Bell, taking her claw-like hands. She recalled what she had learned about the Indigo Tribe and the Proselyte Entity over the years. It was the Entity of Compassion, or Empathy. She reached down into her emotional core. She certainly felt sympathy for Bell, but Empathy? To feel what she was feeling? How did you access that? Dori sensed a rising indigo aura, faint, but growing. What was the corresponding emotional hue of the Entities’ alter-egos, the Seven Deadly Enemies? She tried to recall her time on the Rock of Eternity. The indigo demon was Injustice. How did that correspond to Compassion?

Justice was like Karma, giving others what they had earned. Good for good, evil for evil. Injustice was rewarding evil with good, and vice versa. Perhaps Bell did not deserve to be healed. Wouldn’t healing her be an injustice? Dori felt her indigo aura grow stronger. But Dori loved Bell; she wanted to see her healed. Compassion. But Dori’s mother had died, despite Dori’s best childhood efforts. Empathy. Why should Bell be healed when Dori’s mother had not been? Injustice. A welter of conflicting emotions raged, as Dori felt her deep indigo aura intensifying. Suddenly, in a moment of clarity, Dori saw Bell’s ravaged physiology, just what was the source of her body’s deterioration. She saw the girl’s genome, a colorful, winding staircase… Dori tried to change, to heal the girl’s body, but she could not seem to grasp hold on anything. The strange, paradoxical emotions raged within her, then suddenly died. Dori opened her eyes, and slumped, exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It was so strange. I know Bell is sick-- obviously-- but looking at her with my ‘healing’ power, I couldn’t find anything to heal. It’s like-- it’s like she’s perfectly well already. Although that's absurd.”

Dori looked at Bell Albens, still sitting in the chair across from her. Clearly, this indigo meditation had had no effect at all.

Joss Albens and Dr. Fa nodded. “This is the central problem,” said Dr. Fa. “Giffen’s Disease affects the DNA directly. True, it becomes altered, corrupted and adulterated, but it is still Bell’s DNA. The disease does not merely infect the patient: it changes who and what the patient is.”

“That is the other reason we came to Jahnson’s World,” said Joss. “We feel Mr. Jahnson may be able to help us, using his abilities.”

“Indeed,” said Dr. Fa. “Ennis has powers that work on a deep, genetic level. The Giffen’s viral fragment has specifically adapted itself to affect the human chromosome. If Bell were to be transformed into another creature, the demi-virus might be left with no host, nothing to attack, and become dormant. In her new form, it might be isolated, and we could purge it from her system. Theoretically. Then she could be un-transformed back into her own beautiful self. Theoretically.”

“We have made an arrangement to meet with Ennis in his office this evening,” said Joss. “You may know that already.”

Dori nodded. “And I know something else,” said Dori. “From my examination of Bell. It’s not just her life that hangs in the balance here, is it? Bell, you know you’re going to have a baby, don’t you?”

Bell nodded weakly. “Yes,” she said. “And she is infected, too.”

CHAPTER TWO - THE ENCHANTED FOREST

Dr. Fa provided Bell with a hoverchair, and Dori accompanied Joss and Bell out of the hospital.

“We’re going to visit my parents until Ennis is ready to meet with us,” said Joss.

“Do you mind if I tag along?” asked Dori. “With Ennis working, our rooms are kind of empty. And I haven’t seen your parents since the reception.”

The three took the planetary monorail from the Jiuzhaigou Forest Park to the Enchanted Forest. The Castle hotel was as gaudy and pink as ever, but that was not their destination. Entering through one of the hidden doors which Dori knew dotted Jahnson’s Planet, they entered the Enchanted Forest proper. It was only a twenty-minute walk to the House of the Three Bears.

There were really only two bears now. Jorn and Manna Albens had been in their seventies when they had arrived on Jahnson’s World with their ten-year-old son. They were now pushing ninety. They were still hale and active, despite having been transformed into bears. The three had preferred their new animal forms, and had remained in a little home in the Enchanted Forest ever since.

As Joss strode along, guiding the Bell’s hoverchair, he stripped off his shirt, and metamorphosed from his human to bear form.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” said Dori.

“Only here on Jahnson’s Planet,” said Joss. “There is such an ambiance of telepathic communication here, and I have been a bear so long, that I can tap into Mr. Jahnson’s powers without him knowing it. I used to do this all the time in High School, when the other kids would ask me why I chose to live my life as a bear. Once I showed them my natural face, they understood.”

As an adult, while human, Joss generally hid his frankly objective ugliness under a Zyzan holographic image. Dori, however, had seen his natural appearance enough that she was used to it: it was like being around a strange-looking alien. It was the personality and person that mattered, rather than the surface.

“Does Ennis know you can do this?” Dori asked.

“I never told him, and he’s never said anything to me about it,” said Joss. “Probably not. Maybe though. Do you think he would be upset if he knew?”

“Ennis is one who likes to be in control,” said Dori. “You might want to break it to him at some point. Gently. There might be others who can do the same thing.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Joss. “It took me years to figure out how to do it. I’m not sure anyone else could learn to do it. I’ve never seen my folks spontaneously transform.”

Manna Albens fussed over Bell, and attempted to console her in the way she knew best: by cooking. Bell had little appetite, but for the rest there was a feast available. There were cups of spicy shrimp cocktail, a pot of hot bouillabaisse, a peculiar salad of mixed grains and sliced fruit, cakes, pie, cookies, and, of course, sweet porridge.

Jorn Albens spent a good deal of time talking with Joss, interrogating him about Giffen’s Disease, as if the old farmer could find a cure in his garden.

“How contagious is it?” asked the old bear.

“For you and Mother?” said Joss. “Not at all. It affects humans only. And the virus mutates to affect the host very specifically, so the chance of infection is much higher in blood relations; but even then, the odds of contracting the disease are minimal. With a quarter of a trillion Terrans scattered throughout the Galaxy, there is perhaps one new case of Giffen’s Disease every decade.”

“Very rare,” said his father, seeming to mull it over. “I can see why it has not been much studied. You are fortunate that Dr. Fa is right here on Jahnson’s Planet.”

“She is one of only a very few physicians who have even studied Giffen’s,” said Joss. “She is probably the Galaxy’s expert. But even she admits that what she knows is mostly what we don’t know.”

Thom Greyson, the elder Albens’ foster son, came home in time for dinner. It was a welcome chance for some good news. Thom was a slight, handsome boy, his blue eyes with a slight exophthalmos, and with curly blonde hair so fair it was almost white.

“Thom has been accepted as a cadet at the Time Institute,” said Manna Albens proudly.

Joss Albens fist-bumped his foster brother with his paw.

“Thom Love,” said Dori. “I can’t believe it! Are you fourteen already?”

“I’ll be leaving for New Titan in the Naltoran system at the end of the school year,” he said. “An artificial moon there called Mykronos, actually.”

“You will be studying to become a Temporal Physicist?” Dori asked.

“No, I’m entering the Chrononaut program as a cadet,” he said. “Explore strange, new worlds. Answer questions of history. Where did the Maricelestials go, for example? I’m already in the Time Institute’s Chrononaut Reserve Officers' Training Corps here on Jahnson’s Planet,” Thom drew a silvery jacket out of his backpack, and modeled it for Dori and his family. Dori was intrigued by the unusual emblem of the Time Institute’s Chrononaut Corps.


As Thom left to put away his school things, Joss accompanied his little brother to his room.

“They grow up so fast,” said Dori.

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” said Manna Albens. “Our little Joss, already married, and us about to become…” the old bear sat down suddenly, eyes on Bell in her hoverchair, tears running down the sides of her muzzle.

“Where there’s life, there’s hope, Mother Albens,” whispered Bell.

CHAPTER THREE - THE EXPERIMENT

They met Ennis Jahnson, not in his private office, but in the Transformations Room, which Dori had visited only once. The bank of Wallscreens was dark, as the Park guests were enjoying their evenings in their transformed states. Dr. Fa was there, as was Dr. Bernardine ‘Bunny’ Chandrasekhar. There were two large plasteel tubs of water.

“One salt water, one fresh water,” Ennis explained. “I never know what someone is going to transform into, so it’s best to be prepared.”

“Remember, this is a dual transformation,” said Dr. Chandrasekhar.

“Better keep a close watch,” said Ennis. “I’ve never used my powers on an embryo before.” Dori looked surprised. “No, Dori, not surprising, really. Although I have done countless transformations, the sorts of people who vacation on Jahnson’s Planet are not the sort to crave natural gestation.”

Dr. Fa readied her medical recorder. Dr. Chandrasekhar placed the Transformation Gown over Bell, for modesty’s sake. Still in her hoverchair, Bell struggled to remove her clothes from under the gown.

“Take it slow. Take your time,” said Ennis. “I have nowhere to be until morning. We’re all friends here.”

But Bell was clearly exhausting herself with the effort of getting undressed. Joss had dressed her in light, loose clothing, but it was still too much of an effort for her. Dori and Dr. Chandrasekhar came to her aid, and in short order, Bell was resting comfortably in the hoverchair under the Transformation Gown.

“Ready?” asked Ennis. The two doctors nodded. “Here we go,” he said. He made no gesture or sign, but Bell’s face-- the only part of her visible-- immediately changed.

“Fascinating,” said Dr. Fa. “The genomic metamorphosis is instantaneous! Both mother and fetus are affected… I am detecting the detritus of the Giffen’s viral fragments… it appears to be working… no indication that the virus is reviving… in fact, her immune system seems to be attacking the material… we will do a complete cleanse as well of course…” she looked at Dr. Chandrasekhar. “But it may not even be strictly necessary!” Dr. Fa turned to Joss. “We should have your wife in full health, and back in human form within a day or two.”

Bell stood up, and threw off the Transformation Cloak. She stood before a full-length mirror on one of the walls of the Transformations Room. Her silvery-white fur gleamed, her black eyes sparkled. She had taken the form of a skinny, underfed, but undeniably healthy polar bear.

“And what did my baby transform into?” she asked, in a clear, musical voice.

Dr. Fa checked her medical scanner. “Also a bear,” she announced.

“You realize,” said Bell Albens, “That this changes everything.”

There were, of course, Ursinoids in the United Planets, notably on Planet Sanders. However, none of them had physiology near enough to Terrans to want to relocate to Mardru. Over the next few decades, though, Ennis would transform a few guests into bear-forms, and some expressed a desire, when questioned, to leave the human rat-race, and try their hand at an agrarian lifestyle. Thus a small colony of bear-farmers slowly grew up on Mardru.

Joss and Bell’s daughter Halle even married one of these new immigrants, although she could have had the human male of her choice.

CHAPTER FOUR - THE FAMILY GROWS

“I am going to refer you to Doctor Marion,” said Dr. Mumby to Dori. “She is the pediatric specialist here in Schwarzwald.”

“Then I really am…?” Dori asked.

“Yes, you and Ennis managed it,” said Dr. Mumby. “You are well and truly artisanally pregnant.”

“Really?” said Dori. “I didn’t really think… you said it was possible, but… so quickly?”

“You and Ennis are clearly in the peak of health,” said Dr. Mumby. “It is not too late, now. In the first trimester, it is still possible to transfer the embryo to a mechanical womb. Which I would recommend.”

“Because of my age?” asked Dori, who had just turned fifty.

“Because struggling through an artisanal pregnancy is the height of foolishness, when mechanical wombs are both convenient and safe. The technology is five hundred years old, tried and true, but now we have this craze for doing things the ‘all-natural’ way,” said Dr. Mumby.

“With an attitude like that,” said Dori, somewhat hurt, “Why did you choose to specialize in OB-Gyn?”

“I have an interest in women’s health,” said Dr. Mumby. “And a woman’s health is best served by outsourcing unnecessary labor and exertion to machines. Now, it is also possible to suspend growth temporarily, in case you feel you need more time to be ready to take on this responsibility.”

“Oh, we are completely ready,” said Dori.

“Well and good,” said Dr. Mumby. “In the first trimester, it is also possible to do some gene-editing, although in the case of the offspring of two metagenetic parents, I wouldn’t advise it. After all this time, the metagene is still not well understood.”

“I think we’ll take the baby we get,” said Dori.

“Of course, it’s really too early to tell,” said Dr. Mumby, “But a preliminary scan shows no obvious genetic weaknesses. She looks to be a healthy baby girl.”

Dr. Mumby went to her cabinet, and took out two syringes. “This is time-release Cure,” she said. “It will keep your hormones operating naturally throughout the pregnancy.” She injected Dori in one arm, then the other. “Six months on the left, and six months on the right. Giving you a third of a year to nurse your daughter, if you wish to go the full ‘all-natural’ route. Ennis can let his cure expire, and if you change your mind about nursing, I can give you a dose of Vaccine Reactivator. Now, a little warning. You will possibly experience intense mood swings. Knowing you as I do, I would virtually guarantee it. Some post-partum depression is common, but can be effectively treated with a dose of Vaccine, if it becomes to severe. Listen to your body, and pay attention to your emotions, but don’t necessarily believe them. In a million years of human evolution, no one has come up with a cure for morning sickness that didn’t have unpleasant side effects. It’s OK to be picky about what you eat.” She gave Dori a memory crystal. “Read. Read together with Ennis, if you can. If you have questions, anything at all, get in touch with me. I want to see you every two weeks anyway, until the baby comes. Then it’s up to Dr. Marion.”

* * *

“I’ve always fancied the name Meredith,” said Ennis.

“And I would like to memorialize my mother and uncle,” said Dori. “How does Meredith Jindrich Jahnson sound?”

“A name to conjure with,” said Ennis.

CHAPTER FIVE - SAGNOL

“Why is Jahnson’s Planet closing for three days?” asked Dori.

“I’ve kept it a surprise as long as possible,” said Ennis. “I am taking us to celebrate our new status as expectant parents on Sagnol.”

“Sagnol?” said Dori. “They have a waiting list over a year long.”

“Indeed,” said Ennis. “I made the reservations just shortly after we visited Iridium House on Earth, to announce our engagement.”

“And you expected us to be expecting by this time?” said Dori. “Did you consult the Seers on Naltor?”

“Nothing like that,” said Ennis. “It is merely a fortuitous circumstance that when our reservations are available, we have something to celebrate. Of course, I feel like celebrating every day I’m married to you.”

“Flatterer,” said Dori. “Go on.”

* * *

On the day, Ennis led Dori out to the parking lot. “Sagnol has anti-teleportation shielding, so we’ll have to take the long way,” he explained.

“Do you want to take my flyer?” Dori asked, anxiously thinking of Ennis’ old antique.

“All arranged, actually,” said Ennis. “Months ago. We’re taking a space cabbie.”

The big yellow taxi arrived right on cue. The driver stepped out, a tall, lean, lanky sort with a friendly face, in a forest-green uniform.

“Two for Sagnol?” he asked.

Ennis nodded.

“Any luggage?” asked the driver. “Or is this just a day-trip?” He flexed one arm; it was robotic.

“Just the two of us,” said Ennis, “And pick us up after dinner.”

“Part of the service,” said the taxi-driver. Once they were underway, he explained, “There is a slight additional charge. It’s a long flight. You need to tell me your stories.”

“Excuse me?” asked Dori. “Which stories?”

“Your stories,” said the taxi driver. “Everybody’s got ‘em. Your life, your biography, your adventures. How the two of you met. True stories. There’s a whole Universe of stories out there. I collect ‘em. Don’t share anything too personal; it’s up to you. Go.”

Ennis spent an hour or so recounting his life history. The driver nodded and grunted at the appropriate points. “I might fancy being a guest on Jahnson’s Planet for a day,” he said. “Dunno about my wife, though. She’s pretty happy back on Zanadoo. Or, as my cab knows it, coordinates zero-zero-zero-zero.”

It took substantially longer for Dori to tell her story. She tried to leave out the most outrageous parts, but the cabbie always seemed to know when she was holding back, and pressed her for more. Then he would say something along the lines of “You’re not funnin’ me, are you? This is a real, true, story, right? At least, you think it is? Well, I’ll take your word for it.”

After Dori had told as much as she cared to, the driver changed the conversation. “Sagnol, eh? I’ve got a cousin works as a waiter there. You know the history?”

“Very well,” said Ennis.

“I’ve heard of it,” said Dori. “I don’t know the details, though.”

“Sagnol is an almost perfect duplicate of Earth,” said the cabbie. “G-zero star, M-1 class environment. Soil chemistry virtually indistinguishable from Earth. No animals larger than a rabbit, though, and no native plants more evolved that ferns. Rich gal name of Sagnol bought the place, and started a restaurant there. Ten thousand separate restaurants, really, scattered across the planet. Each one surrounded by acres of farmland. A single seating of one million customers each day, six days a week, and there’s no menu. You eat what your waiter brings you. Everythings locally sourced, 100% all-natural. Pure Terran cuisine, so the clientele is limited to folks who can stomache that kind of food. But still, it would take a thousand years to seat every person of Terran descent living today, so meeting someone who’s had dinner at Sagnol is pretty rare. O’ course, customers pay top dollar, too, and it’s a long way to go just for dinner, so that keeps the waiting list down to a few months.”

“What happened to all the native wildlife?” asked Dori. “Did this Ms. Sagnol just wipe it all out?”

Ennis was about to answer, but the driver cut him off. “Nope, nope, not at all. There’s a nature preserve runs across the whole planet, in between the restaurants and ranches and farms. Strict segregation; not even a stray seed of speck of pollen is given a chance to invade the natural environment next door. The Terran environment and the aboriginal environment share the planet 50-50 now.”

“I appreciate the history lesson,” said Ennis. “You have quite a service, here.”

“I told you, I collect stories,” said the taxi driver. “And there’s a lot of them out there in the Galaxy, believe me.” He pulled into orbit around a little world, docking at a space station nearby. “This is your destination,” he said. “The maitre’d will seat you on the planet.”

“You are scheduled for Chez Jupiter, Bringer of Jollity,” said the maitre’d. “Your shuttle is leaving at Gate 451-057.” The ‘shuttle’ was larger than Dori’s cruiser, with seating for a hundred passengers. It seemed to have no pilot; Dori assumed it was computer-controlled. On the ground, things were highly organized at Chez Jupiter. The group was quickly and efficiently seated, Dori and Ennis shared a table for three with an empty chair.

“You are awaiting the rest of your party?” asked the waiter, who introduced himself as Jacques.

“Thank you, no,” said Ennis. “We are all here. The young lady is eating for two, and will have double portions.”

The waiter raised an eyebrow.

“Again, how did you know I would be… expecting… months ago?” asked Dori.

“Not at all, not at all,” said Ennis. “I was merely taking the advice of Mrs. Brill, your cook at Iridium House, who mentioned your... inefficient metabolism.”

It was, indeed, a long trip for a single meal, Dori thought, but the meal was undeniably delicious.

Each course came with a little card that explained its intent and provenance.

The first course was a dish called “Six-Flavour Soup”, a perfect blend and balance of spicy hot, sour, sweet, bitter, salty, and savoury.

The second was a cool salad, without dressing, chunky vegetables under a bed of mixed greens, garnished with rose petals and violets.

Baskets of fluffy corn bread and challah were refilled at regular intervals.

In between courses, small batches of sherbet were provided, no more than a couple of spoonfuls.

The main course was a small chicken Ennis identified as a Rock Cornish, stuffed with mixed grains and nuts, and roasted until the skin was brown and crispy. Ennis received one whole bird, Dori received two. This was accompanied by small bowls of colorful mixed vegetables in a barely-there sauce, and mashed root vegetables with a pleasant tang.

No drinks were served but fresh water, but this was so cold it made a slush.

Dessert was a hot fruit compote, almost unnecessary after the sherbets, but welcome nevertheless.

Dori noticed Ennis failed to finish anything, always leaving a bit behind on his plate for the Jacques to clear. Dori, on the other hand, ate her double-portions down to the last drop of sauce. She had just finished three months of morning-sickness, and was utterly determined to thoroughly enjoy her double-portioned meal.

Dori and Ennis were both feeling a bit sleepy when the Space Cabbie picked them up. It seemed later in the day than it probably was, but Dori had lost all sense of time. The ride back to Jahnson’s Planet was much more quiet and sedate.

“Say!” said the driver suddenly. “How about a night-cap before I send you guys home? One drink, my treat. We’re just passing by Callahan’s Place.”

Dori scarcely registered the comment, only annoyed to be awakened from her half-slumber. Ennis, however, jolted awake. “Certainly,” he laughed. “And put the drinks on my tab, instead.”

The yellow cab touched down on a small asteroid outside a bar with the name Callahan’s in large letters, and the smaller words Crosstime Saloon underneath. It seemed to Dori rather small and disreputable, and very lonely on this isolated asteroid. Inside, however, the ambiance was palpable. Pleasant conversation drifted up from the tables. A man was playing piano. There was a parrot just inside the door, admiring itself in a fragment of mirror.

“Tell it what language you speak,” said Ennis to Dori, quietly.

“Interlac,” said Dori to the parrot. The parrot unleashed the most insulting and obscene streak of invective Dori had ever heard, in perfect, unaccented Interlac. Then it turned back to the mirror, and said, “Pretty girl”.

Ennis said, “Khundishi” to the parrot, and another stream of words followed, entirely unintelligible to Dori, followed by the parrot again entirely ignoring them, in preference for its reflection.

“The usual, Mike,” said the driver to the bartender. He was given a tall, slender, frothy drink with entirely too much smoke pouring out of it. “No worries,” said the driver to Dori and Ennis. “Non-alcoholic. I’m driving.”

“A Not-Beer,” said Ennis.

“Cucumber mojito,” said Dori.

“One virgin cucumber mojito for the mother-to-be,” said Mike the bartender, bringing out the drinks. He jerked his thumb at the cab driver. “He had you tell your stories?” he asked.

Dori and Ennis nodded.

“Well, I’m sorry, but you need to tell them all over again,” said Mike. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have brought you here.”

Dori and Ennis spent the next three hours regaling the clientele of Callahan’s Place with their personal histories. When it was over, the room applauded. There was a large blue caterpillar sitting at one of the tables in the shadows in the back of the room. “I have something important to say to the young lady,” it said. “Keep your temper.”

“What?” said Dori, but the room burst into short laughter, then everyone turned back to their tables. The caterpillar seemed to have disappeared.

They were closer to Jahnson’s Planet than Dori had realized. The Space Cabbie had them home in short order. He dropped them off in the parking lot outside the Schwarzwald Hotel, gave a magnificent low bow, climbed back into the taxi, and disappeared into the sky.


* recipe for the Not-Beer Cocktail
>> 1 fluid ounce Everclear vodka
>> 1 tsp of Rayners Organic Black Treacle
>> 10 fluid ounces of chilled seltzer
>>> In a glass or ceramic beer stein, combine vodka and treacle. Stir. (Treacle will not dissolve)
>>> Add seltzer.
>>> Yes, it is as nauseating as it sounds.

CHAPTER SIX - DOCTOR ANAVIZ

Dori had come down alone to the Schwarzwald cafeteria for lunch. Ennis was having lunch with a VIP in the Cedars of Lebanon. She used the buffet, and was looking for a seat in the crowded room, when a stranger motioned to her to join him at his table. She thought he might be a Janusite; tall and square-jawed, he was entirely bald, without even eyebrows. However, when he smiled, she saw he had teeth like a horse, not characteristic of Janusites.

There was a second person at the table. He appeared a little under four feet tall-- it was hard to tell, as he did not stand when Dori approached. He was also entirely bald. His skin was grey-blue. He had four active arms, and his eyes were crystalline and insect-like.

“Ms. Aandraison, I am Doctor Avaniz of Exxor,” said the little blue man. “A pleasure and and honor to meet one of the owners of Jahnson’s Planet.”

“You would have to meet with the Lithochelonians, if you want to speak to the owners,” said Dori.

“No, no, it is you that my companion and I we wish to speak with,” said Doctor Avaniz. “Certainly you. Your husband as well, although perhaps you could relay our proposal to him.”

Dori was becoming rapidly skeptical. “First, you have not introduced your companion,” said Dori. “Second, if you have a proposal, you might submit it in writing, and let me eat my lunch in peace.

“We will certainly provide you a detailed, written proposal,” said Doctor Anaviz, standing as though to leave. “But let me give you a quick outline. In recent years, and even moreso in the future, we believe, there are a number of children of metahumans who need to learn to use their powers productively, and find their place in society. We are beginning an exclusive school for such special children on Exxor. Ten years old, Earth-standard, I think, might be an appropriate age to begin at our school. So you see, there is plenty of time for the two of you to make a decision.”

“And what is there on Exxor,” said Dori, “That I might wish to send my daughter there in ten-and-a-half years?”

“May I say with all modesty,” said Doctor Avaniz, “I possess a twentieth-level intelligence. I would be the children’s primary instructor.”

Dori noticed a subtle, psychic influence pressuring your to agree. She realized it was not coming from Doctor Anaviz, but from his large, horse-toothed companion. “You know,” she told the little doctor, “I am heartily tired of you supposedly superior individual telling me how to run my life. So you have a twentieth-level intelligence. Others I have met have near-magical abilities, or have lived billions of years, or are remarkably wealthy, or have found some obscure, arcane metal tablet, or have some other reason to think themselves superior to the hoi polloi, and qualified to tell me how to run my life.” Dori’s emotional aura was shifting toward the red. “All I want is an ordinary life. All I want for my daughter is an ordinary life.“

“Oh, Dori,” said Doctor Avaniz. “How could you possibly have an ordinary life when you yourself are so extraordinary? And it is clear to me, from current signs, that the UPGov will soon begin to take more of an interest in regulating extraordinary individuals such as yourself, and Ennis, and your daughter. How much better to place her in my care, where I can protect her, and help her reach her full potential? You can trust us. We have already solicited your friend, Driscoll Foccart…”

“You should seriously consider our offer,” Doctor Avaniz’ strange companion finally spoke. He had a deep, gravelly voice, and spoke as if his mouth was full of marshmallows. “It would be in your best interest. We will protect her. It would be a shame if something bad were to happen to her.”

Dori rose from her chair, eyes flashing, her anger building. “Are you threatening me?” she growled. “Are you threatening my child?”

“That was not helpful,” Doctor Anaviz mumbled.

Doctor Anaviz’ companion rose from his chair, along with Dori. He raised himself to his full height, then kept on growing. He had easily doubled in size, his skin turning gray and pebbly, sharp, stony projections shooting out from his arms, shoulders, knees, chin…

Mr. Church, Manager of the Schwarzwald Forest Park Hotel, came over to their table.

“Anaviz,” he said, “Call off your Doomsday Attack Dog. You are making a scene.” In a quieter voice, he addressed Dori. “Please sit down. We don’t wish to disturb the other guests-- of which, I might add, Doctor Anaviz is not one.” He threw a sharp glance at the little four-armed man.

The grey giant standing before them did not relent. “What are you going to do, Church? Fight me?”

Mr. Church ignored him, instead addressing Doctor Anaviz. “So, your creature has evolved rudimentary intelligence, shape-shifting, and some psychic ability. You still need to teach him to control his temper.”

“I have brought him to at least at ninth-level intelligence,” said Doctor Anaviz meekly. “If only he would use it.”

“What are you going to do, Church?” the grey monster repeated aggressively.

“And what if I do nothing?” asked Mr. Church. “What if your only opponent is my authority as Manager of this hotel, and social propriety? Oh, you have fought against those in the past, but have you ever won?”

Doctor Anaviz’ monster shrank down to its more human-like form, and the two vanished. The other diners, who had been watching the floor show, turned back to their meals.

“How did you…” Dori stammered. “What did you do? What was that thing?”

“It was all bluff, I assure you,” said Mr. Church. “The creature-- an unfortunate product of misguided guided evolution-- has some rudimentary psychic ability, but was unable to see what was in my shielded mind. It could not know what I would or could do, or even what I meant in questioning the creature. The thing has been called The Ultimate for centuries, a rather absurd name, as it has known nothing but defeat after defeat. As for Doctor Anaviz, I suppose that he was attempting to corral you into his ‘Rumplestiltskin Initiative’? Despite his so-called twentieth-level intelligence, he is not smart enough to understand why the people he approaches think it a bad idea. Please, relax, enjoy your lunch. Let the staff know if there is anything else we can do for you.”

Dori took time to send a quick message from her Omnicom to Drura Foccart.

“Do you know a Dr Anaviz?” she texted. The reply from Drura was almost immediate.

“What a creep”

Dori was expecting that her meal would be cold; she was debating whether to ask the staff to re-heat it, or provide her another. To her surprise, it was still piping hot.

[U]CHAPTER SEVEN - NONA

“That door is new,” Dori accused Ennis. “Did you put it there?”

“Guilty,” said Ennis. “I took a piece of the apartment next door, changing it from a two-bedroom to a one-bedroom. “Take a look.”

Ennis thumbed the new door in their suite. It opened onto a little 3-by-3-meter room, with an attached, private Sonic Shower and Cleanroom.

“You’ve been interviewing Doulas, haven’t you?” said Ennis. “I thought she might stay here, when it’s nearer time for the baby to come.”

“Now that is an odd coincidence,” said Dori. “I have found a girl I think I could work with-- I say girl, she looks only eighteen or so, but she’s had over a decade of experience on Earth; she must be at least in her thirties. Plenty of excellent references. Despite what you have said of your guests on Jahnson’s Planet, there are a number of ‘fine’ Earth families that have had artisanal births. Ordinarily, Nona charges about a thousand credits for her services, but she says she has taken early retirement-- wants to explore the Galaxy. She offered her services in exchange for room and board only on Jahnson’s Planet until the baby comes. And here you have already made a perfect little room for her. She may want you to transform her, and let her explore the Forests as well; I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“It doesn’t seem like a very good trade,” said Ennis. “Three months at a hotel on Jahnson’s Planet would be a hundred times as expensive.”

“You’re right, of course,” said Dori. “But is sounded so reasonable at the time. And if she lived with us, it wouldn’t us anything… that is, she wouldn’t be taking up a room… You see? It just seems so reasonable to me. I guess she really made a good impression.”

“It’s up to you, of course,” said Ennis. “Whatever you decide. But why not use one of the doulas already on Jahnson’s Planet? There must be at least twenty. Women have babies here, too, don’t they?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be more convenient,” said Dori. “I’ve even interviewed a few of them. But Nona… and here you have had an extra room built for us. Why would we need that, if our doula were just a few minutes away, here on Jahnson’s Planet?”

“You’re right,” said Ennis. “I suppose I’m just overly concerned. I want everything to go perfectly. Well, whatever you decide.”

“I think I will hire Nona,” said Dori. “It just seems like it will all work out. Almost as if it’s fated to be.”

* * *

“I am older than I look,” said Nona, “But you must be used to that, yourself. I’ve read your autobiography, you know.”

“Half-autobiography,” Dori replied. “And so much has happened since then.”

Nona had brought with her an antique spinning wheel, which filled half the little room. Dori had never seen such a thing.

“It’s a hobby I’ve had since I was a little girl”, she explained. “Spinning thread. It’s very relaxing.”

“And this,” said Dori, indicating a two-meter-long staff, “is a spindle?”

“No, that is called the distaff,” said Nona. “This is the spindle.” She held up a smaller, hand-sized object. “Together, they keep the thread from getting tangled, and winding properly onto the spools. Perhaps you would like to learn spinning?”

“I don’t think so,” said Dori. “It seems to require a great deal of equipment, and a lot of sitting in one place.”

“Sitting quietly,” said Nona, “Is excellent meditation. And it is amazing how much one can get done.”

CHAPTER EIGHT - LADY MYSA’S GIFT

Mysa Nal showed up at Dori’s door with a large box. It contained a sort of garment, something like a cross between a dress and a cape, made of layers and layers of some light, gauzy fabric.

“It’s an ectoplasmic cloak,” Mysa explained.

“Ectoplasm?” said Dori. “Is it alive?”

“No more than wool, or cotton, or silk is alive,” said Mysa. “It’s a semi-physical manifestation of Ectenic force. It’s true that necromancers and mediums sometimes drape it over soulstuff to make spirits of the dead visible, but it’s not in any way living itself.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Dori. The fabric swirled with a shifting, dancing, pale pastel paisley pattern.

“Try it on,” said Mysa. Dori did so. It was entirely modest, and opaque. “It should respond to your mind.”

It only took a little practice to transform the ectoplasmic cloak into a little black dress, or comfortable work overalls.

“It’s so light and cool,” said Dori. “It feels like I’m wearing morning mist. But it looks so substantial. I like it. Thank you so much, Mysa.”

Dori experimented with a couple of other configurations, including her “Rainbow Girl” costume.

“Mysa,” said Dori, “Apropos of nothing… I heard recently that witches lose their powers when they fall in love. Or have to give up their powers, in order to experience love. That’s not really true, is it?”

“No, that’s an urban myth. I’ve been in love twice, and have never lost my powers. Lost a lot of other things, but not my powers. Both were pretty ill-advised affairs, for different reasons. I still technically have my magic now, it’s just that it’s fully occupied doing other things. One other thing.”

“How is Chip?” Dori asked.

“I don’t know,” said Mysa. “We don’t see one another much. He’s what now? Six? Seven? That’s about two months old, in Korlon-Dryadic years. I don’t know whether to think of him as a future beau, or a step-son. Ill-advised, as I said. I really ought to try to get over it.”

“No other more recent ‘beaus’?” asked Dori.

“Well, I think Harlack had a little crush on me for awhile,” said Mysa. “But he found a nice Khundish girl to settle down with. They’re looking a a place in Cimmeria.”

“Cimmeria?” said Dori. “I don’t think I know that world. Is it Khundish?”

“It’s a subcontinent of the Sorcerer’s World,” said Mysa. “You really like the cloak?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Dori. “I’ve thought of ectoplasm as more... gooey, gloppy, I guess. But this is wonderful.”

“Ordinarily it is,” said Mysa. “But we have a wizard-in-training on Tharn from the Spider Guild, who has figured out how to spin it into thread, then weave it into the fabric you see here.”

“Oh!” Dori gasped. “That reminds me. I need to introduce you to my new doula, Nona. She’s been with us a month now. She is a dear. Spinning is her hobby.”

“Where is she from?” asked Mysa.

“Earth,” said Dori. “She has a house in Taxco, in Southern Quebec.” She knocked on Nona’s door. The small, dark-haired girl answered.

Now it was Mysa’s turn to gasp. “Dori, do you know who this is?” asked Mysa.

“I’m Nona,” said Nona. “Pleased to meet you, Mysa. Again.”

Mysa fumed. “You don’t even try to hide it,” she said. “You use your real name. You bring your spinning wheel, and your spindle, and your distaff. Unbelievable.”

Dori was nonplused. Mysa pulled out her Omnicom, and pulled up an article from the Encyclopedia Galactica. She handed it to Dori.

“Nona, also known as Clotho. She and her sisters, Decima and Morta, also known as Lachesis and Atropos. Known anciently as the Moirai, or Fates. Clotho spins out the thread of human life, Lachesis weaves the fate of the individual, and Atropos… I can’t believe you are here, posing as a mortal.”

“There is precedent,” said Nona. “Long-nosed, big-footed Hestia spent the nineteenth and twentieth century employed as a British nanny. And even now, as we speak, Eros is playing human on Xanthu.”

“But you are not a mere Vesta or Cupid,” said Mysa, accusingly. “You spin their threads as surely as you spin Dori’s and mine.”

“And a burden of work the two of you are, believe me,” said Nona.

“What are you doing here?” asked Mysa.

“Wait,” said Dori, trying to catch up. “Is she not really a doula?”

“Oh, I have brought a great number of babies into this Universe,” said Nona. “All of them, in fact.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Mysa, again. “You haven’t answered by question.”

“Nor will I answer you,” said Nona. “But I will say this: Dori was seeking a good doula. You cannot say I don’t have experience.”

“And when you have finished your duties, will Dori still have her child?” asked Mysa.

“That is for the Fates to decide,” said Nona. “But I will say this: Yes.”

Dori expected it would take some time to get used to the iea that she was sharing her suite of rooms with a god. But it soon became quite natural. She often entirely forgot that Nona was anything other than a valued employee, a young-looking human girl from Earth. Mysa continued to make regular visits, although she evidenced decreasing suspicion as time went on. Nona accompanied Dori on her visits to Dr. Mumby, and did occasional check-ups herself, but mostly spent a great deal of time in her little room, spinning.

CHAPTER NINE - CHILDREN OF THE SUBSTITUTES

Some Preliminary History, Linking The Retroboot Legion to the Five-Year Gap

Thom Kallor, Legionnaire and former Substitute Legionnaire, is crushed to death by the collapsing Legion Headquarters.

In his last moments, he attempts to use his power to save himself. Drawing mass from the stars into his own body, he hopes to create a sort of resistant invulnerability with his increasing density. It does not work. When the Legion excavates the site, they find Thom’s lifeless body, crushed and mutilated in the wreckage.

But super-heroes do not necessarily follow the same rules as mere mortals, and many have proven difficult to kill.

As the mass he ‘borrowed’ from Earth’s sun returns to its core, Thom Kallor’s consciousness returns with it. He finds himself in a peculiar state: his self bound to a diffuse, burning mass of hydrogen.

“Well, this is quite a predicament you have gotten yourself into,” says a strangely familiar glowing golden man, evidently perfectly comfortable in the heat at the heart of the sun. “But perhaps I can help you. If I remember correctly, your parents are astronomers, living on an artificial satellite orbiting Xanthu?” The golden man got a faraway look in his eyes. “Yes… I see them.”

And suddenly, Thom Kallor was home on Xanthu. His parents had only been notified of his death minutes before.

Confused and disoriented, Thom’s parents register him in therapy, both cognitive and pharmaceutical. His history of schizophrenia and bipolar disorder do not help in his adjustment to his literal new life.

Thom neglects to let any of his Legion comrades know that he is alive.

When Nura Nal, training as apprentice to the High Seer of Naltor, has a vision of Thom, safe at home on the satellite above Xanthu, she at last discovers he has returned from the dead. She is rather put out that he had not told her himself.
This is the proverbial straw that breaks the proverbial camel’s proverbial back. Unable to deal with this constant high level of drama anymore—death, life, madness, lost in time, always in need of rescuing—Nura calls it quits with Thom.

A couple of years later, mostly recovered, Thom relocates to Naltor. Rather than reconciling with Nura, however, he is hired by Yvvya Val Purtha, owner of the Batball Team known as the Naltoran Dreamers, as the team’s new coach and manager. Thom and Yvvya begin a professional relationship which quickly turns personal. When they are married, Thom gains a half-ownership share in the team, which he transforms from middling-average to championship-level players.

===============================================================

Children of the Legion of Substitute Heroes (In Order from Oldest to Youngest)

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Sol Purtha of Naltor
(Dream Boy / Dreamer)
He is the son of Lanu Purtha and Yvvya Val, both native Naltorans. When Yvvya divorces Lanu, and marries Thom Kallor of Xanthu, Sol becomes the former Substitute Legionnaire Star Boy’s step-son.
Thom recommends Sol for membership in Legion 2.O when the team requires a precognitive. He is only a member for a short time, but forms a close relationship with the young man known as I.Z.O.R. of Linsar (also known as Gear). The two former Legionnaires eventually marry, and have a son, who ultimately grows up to become a member of “Legion 2.5” under the name Nexus.

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Ives Benem Jor
(Ivy)
Vacationing on Rimbor, Ral Benem (Chlorophyll Kid) has a fling with a woman named Jan Jor. Ral does not realize that this is the infamous ‘False Pretenses Kid’ who served prison time for joining the Legion in its earliest days under false pretenses. Jan, on the other hand, knows exactly who Ral Benem is.
The two enjoy several days of Rimboran debauchery until affably and agreeably parting ways. Ral has no idea that Jan is pregnant.
Fast-forward six years, and Jan is in trouble with RimborGov for smuggling and ‘piracy’. With the Legion disbanded, Jo Nah is back living on Rimbor, and being somewhat involved in Jan’s capture, takes responsibility for young Ivés while her mother is in prison. Jan reveals to Jo that Ral is the father, but elicits a promise that this will remain a secret. RimborGov’s treatment of Jan also instigates Jo’s break with the Rimboran authorities.
When Jan Jor’s prison sentence is extended, and when she is then committed to a prolonged stay in a drug-rehabilitation facility, Jo unofficially adopts Ivés as his ward.
When Tinya Wazzo returns from her period ‘lost in time’, she and Jo marry, and officially adopt Ives.
It is not until Ivés is ten years old that Ral learns that he is her father. He attempts to contact Jan, who is still bouncing between prison, psych-rehab, and drug-rehab, but is rebuffed. His relationship with Ivés is somewhat strained, but he tries to be present for her as a father, without much luck.
Ives, on the other hand, has deep Legion connections, looking to Kent Shakespeare as a mentor, even ending up as a ‘third wheel’ on his dates with Brita An’Nan as their romance blossoms. She also develops a crush on Garridan ‘Validus’ Ranzz, which is at last reciprocated, and the two become an ‘item’ during their teen years with ‘Legion 1.5’.
Garridan, however, ends up marrying Lauren ‘Star Sapphire’ Gand, a girl some eight years his junior. A couple of years later, Ivés ends up falling in love with, and marrying Garridan’s brother Graym.

================================================================

Pol Krinn II
(Magnet Boy)
The son of Rokk ‘Cosmic Boy’ Krinn and former Substitute Legionnaire Lydda ‘Night Girl’ Jath, Pol’s double heritage gives him an array of super-abilities.
In addition to his father’s Braalien magnetic abilities and quantum magno-vision, he also possesses Kathooni infra-red vision. Also a natural leader like his father, Pol serves honorably in the later incarnation of ‘Legion 1.5’ for many years.

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Driscoll Foccart
(Necromancer)
Half-Earthling and Half-Somathuran, Driscoll has copper-colored skin, deep gray eyes, and deep purple-black dreadlocks.
His ability to see the spirits of the deceased is attributed to side-effects of his father’s exposure to Norgine.
At the age of seventeen, he is admitted to the Unseen University on the Sorcerer’s World. With his natural abilities, quick mind, and his father’s political talent, Driscoll becomes a prominent Necromancer, political leader… and supporter of Mordru.

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Izunah Retzun
(A Perfectly Ordinary Girl)
When the Legion of Substitute Heroes goes up against Kirt Niedrich’s Justice League of Earth, they are hopelessly outclassed. Color Kid is blinded, Infectious Lass is lost in time, and using his borrowed Bgztlr powers, Kirt Niedrich, the self-styled Earth-Man, pushes Double-Header two meters beneath the surface of the Earth. The surviving Legionnaires retreat to regroup, and to fight again another day.
Frenk and Dyvud Retzun suffocate to death, buried alive, forgotten.
But there is an after-life.
Frenk and Dyvud are offered a bargain.
Frenk Retzun's soul is bound with the angelic being Naqamael, the Spectre, the Spirit of Vengeance, while Dyvud Retzun's soul is bound with Rachamael, the Radiant, the Spirit of Mercy. Inseparable in death as in life, the two brothers encounter forces in the transcendental world which threaten the fate of the Universe to a far greater degree than the xenophobia which has taken hold on planet Earth.
On the distant planet of Malacthon, a Terran colony far beyond United Planets space, Frenk and Dyvud defeat an ancient malevolent entity with the help of an angel who calls herself Loshem—an exile from Heaven who has dedicated that last several hundred years to defending this modest little world.
While their ethereal selves patrol the world (and beyond), Dyvud and Loshem create material bodies for themselves, taking up the ordinary lives as ordinary Malacthons. The Spectre is disdainful, considering this a waste of time and resources, but the Presence does not object, so there is nothing he can do.
In the process of time, Dyvud and Loshem Retzun have a daughter, Izunah, who is perfectly ordinary in every way. She serves as a portal through which the three spirits view the mundane world. The Spectre learns that Vengeance is sometimes best delayed; the Radiant learns that Mercy is never deserved, but very often desperately needed, and Loshem learns something about Love, both of the Human and Divine variety.
When Malacthon is invaded by powerful Khundish sorcerers with the ability to imprison the spirits, the material Dyvud and Loshem lead a insurgence against them, driving them from the planet, and freeing their immaterial selves.

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Halle Albens of Mardru
(A Perfectly Ordinary Ursinoid)
Transformed by Ennis Jahnson into bears, Joss and Bell Albens have a daughter, Halle, who is naturally a bear with a human mind. She is able to transform into a beautiful, fully human woman at will, although she seldom chooses to do so. Half-polar bear, half-brown bear, she is by occupation a hyper-hydroponic farmer with her parents. Although technically not a child of the Substitutes, Dori ‘Rainbow Girl’ Aandraison is her god-mother.

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Meredith Jindrich Jahnson
(The Faery Queen)
Daughter of Ennis Jahnson and Dori Aandraison, she has no distinctive super-abilities herself. However, because of her heritage, she attracts the interest of the Faery. Initially introduced to Faeryland by the wizard Ambroise and his associate Ythorod the Witch-Killer (both born in the 19th century) Meredith eventually becomes queen of a fairyland called Toyland, in which all the eldritch residents have two forms: one, elvish or fairy-like, and another, a living toy or doll.

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Anjalani Vakk of Lupra
(A Perfectly Ordinary Luprakon… sort of)
Ulu ‘Color Kid’ Vakk and Zel Lani have a single daughter, Anjalani. In a Galaxy with limited, although extensive, resources, it is unusual for a family to have more than two children. (The Ranzzes are a notable exception.) Anjalani appears perfectly normal from birth, and displays no remarkable abilities. Until she reaches puberty, when she develops the ability to bend light. Obvious applications are making herself invisible, and making other things invisible, and immunity to energy-weapons. It takes some practice before she can bend light accurately enough to focus it into concentrated laser-like beams.
Her application to the Legion is rejected, as her powers will only work with ambient light—she is not able to actually generate light on her own—but she attends college on Throon, where her somewhat limited abilities are more appreciated.

================================================================

Forrest Benem
(A Perfectly Ordinary Mardruan)
Ral Benem returns to Mardru, and marries a young Mardruan woman named Cutie George. Perfectly aware of his complex and complicated relationship with Jan Jor and their daughter Ivy, Cutie is patient with her husband, and tries to encourage him in improving his relationship with his daughter.
In the meantime, they have their son, who they name Forrest. A couple of years younger than Halle Albens, he is nevertheless aware of the strange community of bearish farmers that is developing on Mardru. He also follows the loyally the exploits of the Legion of Super-Heroes, and especially those of his half-sister ‘Ivy’.

================================================================

Nelva Mavlen of Schwar
(A Perfectly Ordinary Schwarran)
Staq ‘Fire Lad’ Mavlen returns to Schwar, and marries a young Schwarran woman named Lin Maava. He is considered quite a catch; his travelogues are popular not only on Schwar, but throughout much of the United Planets, and the royalties earn him a modest fortune reasonable income. Like most Schwarrans, Lin is highly xenophobic and provincial, unwilling to travel off-world, or even to much of the rest of Schwar. Tolerant of her husband’s wanderlust, she becomes less so after the birth of their daughter Nevla, wanting Staq to spend more time at home. He accedes, while still keeping in contact by hyper-wave with the many friends he has made throughout the Galaxy, and among many alien races. Nevla grows up as a normal Schwaran, taking mostly after her mother, never displaying any unusual powers, nor ever traveling off-world like her father.

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Freskii Bannin of Tharr
Froyd Bannin of Tharr
(Perfectly Ordinary Psycho-Glaciating Tharrans)
Brekk ‘Polar Boy’ Bannin returns to Tharr, and marries a young Tharran woman named Kalthrein Odomin, also of the cold-projecting tribe of his world. It is somewhat of a duty to populate the planet with the frost-powered elite that keep Tharr livable. They have a daughter, Freskii, and a few years later a son, Froyd. They have a comfortable but mostly uninteresting life on Tharr, taking occasional vacations off-world to some of the cooler planets.

================================================================

Joyna Wentim of Zwen
(A Perfectly Ordinary Zwenite)
Dag ‘Stone Boy’ Wentim returns to Zwen, and marries a young Zwenite woman named Granita Struwwelpeter. Half the year is spent in hibernation, and neither Granita nor their daughter Joyna seems able to overcome the hibernating compulsion as Dag has. His ability to remain on a day-night schedule continually has enabled him to travel the cosmos. During their non-hibernating months however, Dad, Granita, and Joyna travel to Throon, effectively maintaining separate residences and dual planetary citizenship. Dag becomes something of an Elder Statesmen on Throon, and his wife and daughter are nearly equally revered. Joyna serves for many years on the Throonan Council (and, by extension, the Substitute Legion of Super-Heroes of Throon).

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Kassa Nal of Naltor
(A Somewhat Extraordinary Naltoran)
Naltor has a problem. As High Seer, Nura Nal employs a number of young male concubines consorts, but none seem satisfactory enough to produce an heir with, and she can certainly find no man who would make a suitable husband. Undeniably one of the finest precognitives in her generation, and the daughter and granddaughter of High Seers, there is a strong desire that her line not die out. At last, Nura agrees to producing an heir through an in vitro process—but using her own DNA only—essentially, a clone. While accelerated cloning processes are still unpredictable and rife with complications, Nura’s child Kassa gestates a full nine months in the artificial womb, and grows and matures as a normal child. Nura is in most respects a good mother, especially allowing for the burden of her service as High Seer, but she pampers and spoils Kassa terribly. The two mediating factors are Kassa’s tutors, personally chosen by the Naltoran High Council, who provide needed structure to the young girl, and Kassa’s Aunt Mysa, who has seen both wonders and horrors, and knows that we must all choose between them. And that political leaders choose for more than themselves.
Nura retires before wearing herself out as her mother did, Kassa eventually succeeds her as High Seer, and serves honorably and well.

================================================================

Rikki Val Kallor of Naltor
(Dreamer Star Player)
One of Kassa’s contemporaries is Rikki Val Kallor, the daughter of Thom and Yvvya Kallor, who arrives late in their marriage. Possessing only modest precognitive ability, she displays considerable batball skills as a child, which her parents nourish. As a young adult, she becomes a star player for the Naltoran Dreamers, although initially her team-mates and the intergalactic sportscasters portray her as an entitled nepotistic brat. She soon proves them all wrong, with adequate batting and phenomenal pitching skills.
When she retires from her sports career, she becomes an advocate for the Legion, in its fifth incarnation, and again in some disrepute among the United Planets. The results of her campaign to keep the Legion active and independent are successful during her lifetime. However, less than a decade after she passes away, UPGov passes the UltraCorps Initiative, giving the government unprecedented control over the Legion, and placing many of its most powerful members under the auspices of the UltraCorps, a new division of the Interplanetary Intelligence Corps.


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Reginal Chee Bez
(A Perfectly Ordinary Grxyorn)
Khefurb Chee Bez (also Che Bez) is a typical Grxyorn, except for his unusual ears. Grxyorns are of Terran stock, but virtually hairless, with prominent, almost neanderthal brows. Khefurb’s ears are supposedly capable of converting radio waves into sound. He can pick up broadcasts from anywhere in the past, present or future, or even alternate dimensions. (For example, a reality where Lee Harvey Oswald failed to assassinate President John F. Kennedy, and he won a second term as U.S. President.)
His powers went unremarked and seemed unremarkable, until Rond Vidar queried Brainiac Five about the source of Khefurb’s time-and-dimension-piercing ability, and wondered if his power set might be expanded and put to good use. Querl and Rond contacted the Legion of Substitute Heroes, and performed an extensive battery of tests. What they found was disconcerting-- for Khefurb.The ‘radio broadcasts’ did not originate in the past, future, or other dimensions at all. In fact, there were no radio transmissions. He proved insensible to the presence or absence of intentionally generated radio wavelengths at all. Rather, his ‘broadcasts’ originated in his subconscious mind: he was, essentially, broadcasting the soundtrack of his dreams.
Khefurb left the Subs, and went back to school to study journalism. He also studied meditative techniques to ‘quiet’ his subconscious. In both attempts he was successful, and he became a well-known and well-paid news holo-caster. There was still occasional ‘leakage’, but the constant hum of ‘broadcasts’ was significantly suppressed.
While vacationing at his estate on Grxyor, Khefurb met actress-model Francine Tête-Chauve, another native Grxyorn (but whose ears were more Vulcan or Durlan in shape). They had one child, Reginal Chee Bez, who grew up with the usual privileges of a child of the wealthy, beautiful and famous, but otherwise led a mostly unremarkable life.

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Daisy Dursin
(A perfectly ordinary Earthling)
“Porcupine” Peter Dursin first met the 5th-dimensional imp when he was just nine years old. His parents thought of her as his ‘imaginary friend’, but she was terribly real. It was a totally inappropriate relationship: although of similar size, she was an adult, and he was a child. Peter was happy to play with the girl, but she was interested in romance-- something which he was neither ready for, nor even really understood.
Frustrated and enraged, the imp had her revenge: she turned him into a porcupine-boy. But she did not do so with 5th-dimensional magic: rather, she found in the ruins of an ancient civilization a gene-splicing artificial virus that would do the trick for her. Then, saying her name backwards-- “¡Zmrtypnz!”-- she departed to the 5th dimension she was gone forever from Peter’s life..
Pete applied to the Legion of Super-Heroes, then worked with the Subs for a few years. He was invited to Throon during the period of the five-year gap, but when he heard that a medical laboratory which he had visited as a child believed they had come up with a method of reversing the virus’ effects, he returned immediately to Earth.
The operation was a success, as they say, and Peter began a new life as an ordinary Earthling. He met and married Philomena Abercrombie, whose remarkable name hid a perfectly unremarkable woman. Their daughter, Daisy Dursin, was equally unremarkable, and the little family lived happily ever after.

There could be an Edmund Spenser revival in the future, bringing fame and fortune to obscure professors. With universal translators, all is easily accessible.

Giffen's Disease - wonderful! Perhaps in its later stages one has the overwhelming desire to kill martial arts practitioners.

I wonder how bears would manage hydroponic gardening with their big paws. Grow really big crops? Mechanical aids? Genetic modification to improve dexterity? Have you read Terry Bisson's story "Bears Discover Fire"? Highly adaptable creatures.

Nice revival of Space Cabbie and guest appearance of Callahan's. A restaurant planet that sounds like one giant El Bulli, what wonders the future holds! (For the privileged, at least.)

Only Dori could take in stride having one of the Fates as her doula. Coincidence note: I don't think I'd heard the term "doula" before reading this story, then the next day, it was in our local news. Perhaps you are generating reality?

I enjoyed the children's origin stories. Very unexpected manner of saving Thom. Ivy's origin - so logical. The Bannins are the very picture of ordinary. A happy ending for the de-Porcupined Pete and family. Double Header continues to be strange. I can't help but feel sorry for Nura and her daughter, a constrained life after all that freedom she enjoyed in her Legionnaire days.