Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business RAINBOW GIRL: Book 27 - Rekojeth

CHAPTER ONE - THROON

The time bubble appeared on the launching platform. Ral Benem quickly exited, as there was a waiting queue. Three of the new Subs quickly entered, and the time bubble vanished again, almost immediately re-appearing. By the time he was joined by Dag Wentim, the bubble had appeared and vanished twice more.

“This is the only one operating,” Dag explained. “The other two are undergoing necessary maintenance.”

“I wish Professor Peacock would finish the fourth he promised us soon,” Ral complained. “They are virtually our only reliable transportation off Throon now.”

“We are capable of nearly a thousand trips each week, without breakdowns,” said Dag. “We are servicing worlds far outside the United Planets, as well as within.”

“I understand we need to require our Substitute Legionnaires to use their powers for good,” said Ral, “But I sometimes wonder about the quotas we have instituted. It may be affecting the quality of our missions. I believe we sent three Subs to rescue someone’s pet cat from a tree recently.”

“Actually, it was to rescue a pet tree from a cat,” said Dag. “Don’t be such a culturalist.”

They entered the boardroom, where a dozen Substitutes were gathering. He and Dag sat on either side of Staq Mavlin, in the three chairs at the head of the table.

“How was your family visit?” Staq asked.

“I waited on Takron-Galtos outside minimum security until visiting hours ended, but Jan never showed,” said Ral. “Ivy is almost as cold; although at least she is civil in our visits, if not talkative. She now managing the Legion Academy, and will be attending a graduating ceremony for some of the team later this month. Shall the begin the meeting?”

“This meeting of the Council of Fifteen is hereby called to order,” Staq declared. “Mr. Secretary?”

“We have only one item of new business,” said Knucklewalker, the current secretary to the Council. “The hero known as Chameleon-Eye has completed training, and has requested admission to the Legion.”

“What are his powers again?” Ral asked Staq, sotto voce.

“He can change the color of his eyes,” whispered Staq.

Ral Benem sighed. “This is something that has begun concerning me as well,” said Ral. “I realize that the Charter of the Substitute Legion of Super-Heroes of Throon states that anyone with super-powers who completes the appropriate training may take the oath and become a member in full standing, but this… is this really a power at all? How useful could it be in battle, or anywhere else? Perhaps the time has come to amend the Charter.”

“That is precisely the sort of thinking that caused us to create the Legion of Substitute Heroes in the first place,” said Dag Wentim. “What matters is their willingness to use those powers for good, not their raw power. We provide a suitable venue for that. If they can’t measure up, they can leave of their own accord. But I don’t think it’s our place to screen our applicants for ‘usefulness’.”

“You’re right, of course,” said Ral. “What missions do we have coming up?”

The quartermaster, Bizarro Rose, spoke up. “Yesterday, Rainbow Girl was attacked by Eyeful Ethyl. Rhent— I mean, Visi-Lord— is putting together a team to go back and rescue her. So far, he has recruited only The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes. Chameleon-Eye ought to fit in well with that team.”

“Put them in the queue,” said Staq. “And send a direct report to the three of us when the mission is complete. As this concludes new business, unless an executive session is needed, the Founders will now be excused, and the remaining Twelve will conduct the remainder of today’s business.”

CHAPTER TWO - ETHEL-LYNN NIWTYN-LEFEAUGH

Ennis was at work. It was Nona’s day off, and she was nowhere to be found on Jahnson’s Planet. Dori should have been alone..

And yet, still another stranger had appeared on Dori’s couch, unannounced. Apparently human, she had dark hair and dark eyes, and was wearing a red jumpsuit ornamented in an animal-paw print.

“Red Leeta,” said Dori.

“So glad you recognize me,” said Red Leeta.

“The renegade from Galadriel, who finds employment as an assassin,” said Dori. “What do you want with me?”

“Someone approached me with a contract on you,” said Red Leeta. “Not my usual clientele, so I turned him down. Rekojeth, he calls himself. Undoubtedly he will try to find someone else to send your way. I thought you ought to know.” She stepped towards the window. “Oh, myyyy. Here comes someone now. I’d better be off.” She stepped out through the (closed) window, and was gone.

“We have an unidentified vessel dropping out of hyperspace in near-planet vicinity…”

If telepathic energy were visible light, the psychic network on Jahnson’s Planet would have been lit up like a Christmas tree.

“We are reporting an object moving at near-light speeds targeting Jahnson’s Planet…”

“This is a red alert. We are under attack. Unidentified vessel, less than 100kg has entered the atmosphere…”

“Schwarzwald Park, emergency evacuation procedures! You have been targeted by some sort of missile…”

“Dori! Get out of there now!” a voice spoke of the air. “Your suite is the target!”

The outside wall crashed in; and Dori Aandraison was thrown across the room.

“How do you like me now?” asked Ethel-Lynn Niwtyn-LaFeaugh, climbing from the rubble.

Dori’s golden force-shield had snapped on in response to her mounting fear. Now that Ethel was standing there, she was terrified. There was something not right about the look in her many eyes.

“Interplanetary-class flying belt,” Ethel explained. “Coluan force-shielding. All courtesy of Rekojeth. And that weakness you’re feeling? That’s enervating radiation. I tracked down the doctors who gave Roy his upgrade, and got myself some of the same.”

Ethel lifted a hand, and the nearby sofa ignited, engulfed in a blast of energy.

“Even better—I can generate bolts of ionizing radiation as well. You can call me… The Radioactive Woman now!”

Dori’s ever-strengthening force shield was filtering out much of the radiation; and some of the weakness was passing, but she was highly motivated to keep herself in a state of abject terror.

“Ethel… you know...” Dori said weakly. “That those illegal bio-tech ‘upgrades’ were what ultimately killed Roy. What were you thinking? Jahnson’s Planet has an excellent hospital system. Surely they can reverse…”

“Revenge!” Ethel cried. “You took my little girl away from me! And now Horace has run off to Gamorr with some little home-wrecking pig! I’ve lost everything! Why should you have any happiness? Why should you have your own little baby after you took mine away from me?” She began to crackle with ionizing radiation. The carpet at her feet singed.

“Maryaliza misses you,” Dori lied. “She longs to see her mother. Let us take you to her on Earth.”

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” Ethel screamed.

Suddenly, a garden of giant, translucent day-glo flowers appeared in the room. Translucent unicorns could be seen grazing in a green-glass meadow growing from the carpet. Ghostly fairies flitted through the air. Distracted, Ethel looked around in confusion.

A time bubble appeared in the far corner of the room.

“Freeze Optic!” shouted Visi-Lord, leaping from the time-bubble. Ice formed up to Ethel’s knees, momentarily immobilizing her before evaporating from the heat of radiation.

A young girl in a bright, multi-colored jumpsuit helped Dori up off the floor. “I’m The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes,” she said. “I can project unconvincing illusions.”

An entirely unconvincing translucent cartoon dragon sprayed entirely unconvincing flames at Ethel.

“Black-Out Optic!” cried Visi-Lord. The black beam missed, shooting past Ethel, and out the broken wall. “Hypno-Optic!” was another miss. The second “Freeze Optic!” was as ineffective as the first. Ethel seemed to be getting her bearings now, realizing she was facing four foes rather than one. She began what appeared to be an energy build-up.

“Stun you!” cried Chameleon-Eye. Ethel toppled to the floor. The new boy held a strange ray-gun in one hand, currently whining in power-down mode.

“I think you need a different battle-cry,” said Visi-Lord.

“I’ll work on it,” said Chameleon-Eye, re-holstering the stun pistol. His multi-colored eyes twinkled.

“Xiphias Gideon, can you hear me?” Dori spoke into the air.

“{Hello, Dori Aandraison}” came the thought in her mind. “{What can I do for you?}”

“Will the tesseracts hold living creatures safely? I have a modified Earth female in my room spewing dangerous radiation everywhere. Can we hold her safely—somewhere?—until the EarthGov SP’s get here?”

“{Absolutely, Dori. And she will experience no passage of time until she is released from the tesseracts. Stasis will probably do her some good. If she is dangerously radioactive, it cannot be good for her health.}”

“So I tried to tell her,” said Dori. “And can you send Ennis a message that we have been attacked by the Legion of Super-Villains again? Rekojeth was mentioned. And Ethel’s a parolee from Labyrinth. Maybe he can file a complaint, or something.”

“{All done, as you requested}” came the message from Xiphias Gideon. The unconscious form of Ethel faded away, presumably into the Jahnson’s Planet storage tesseract.

The Substitutes had been listening to one side of this exchange with interest.

“We brought some Nuke-Away® for you,” said The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes, producing an aerosol, and giving both Dori and the room a once-over.

“You’re real name wouldn’t happen to be ‘Lucy’ would it?” Dori asked.

“No, it’s Akera,” said The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said Dori.

“Time for us to go,” said Visi-Lord. “Time… so to speak.”

“Give my regards to the Founders,” said Dori.

As the time-bubble faded away into the timestream, Dori shook her head. “Kids these days,” she said to herself.

CHAPTER THREE - THE RAINBOW FLASH

Squerl Dox of Earth-C-minus answered the call.

“Let me speak to Brainiac Dox or the Karabot, please,” asked Dori.

“I’m sorry, both the Brainiacs are indisposed,” said Squerl Dox. “May I help you instead?”

“Look, I know you’re an A.I. hologram,” said Dori. “And one slapped together clumsily. Your fur is glitchy, and I can see right through your tail.”

The little green squirrel glanced back to confirm it was true.

“I would like Brainiac Five to give me just one-twenty-fourth-part of his attention,” said Dori.

The hologram shifted into a representation of the face of Querl Dox. “I am now listening with one-twenty-fourth of an ear,” said the hologram. “What is it, Dori Aandraison? I acknowledge I owe you a favour.”

“I am looking for Rekojeth,” said Dori.

“Xart Prax, currently operating under the appellation Rekojeth,” said Brainiac Five. “Recently instigated an attack on your person effected by Eyeful Ethel. Thwarted by the Substitute Legion of Super-Heroes of Throon. No doubt you are seeking revenge. If I knew where he was, I would still hesitate to tell you. He is an extremely dangerous Coluan, Dori. As you know, he applied his tenth-level intellect to the study of battle strategy. After his failed experiments to increase his intelligence to twelfth-level reversed his emotions-- well, the more confident he is that his strategy will succeed, the more fearful and paranoid he becomes. That he is in hiding from you now is a bad sign. Taking him by surprise is almost equally dangerous, as he will counter-attack without thought, with reckless confidence. He still experiences manic glee when he causes the death of others, which gives us hope that if we can cure him, re-reverse his emotions, his is still redeemable. That is, he must be ‘really’ experiencing deep sorrow.”

“But what if that failed experiment never happened?” said Dori. “What if he never attempted to gain twelfth-level intelligence in the first place?”

The hologram became somewhat clearer. “You now have a full one-eighth of my attention, Dori,” said Brainiac Five. “Are you suggesting meddling with the time-stream?”

“Yes, I am,” said Dori. “Xart Prax threatened not only me, but my baby. And he came terrifyingly close to succeeding. I am tired of dealing compassionately with my enemies. I want to make sure that Rekojeth never comes into existence. Why would he attack me, anyway?”

“The most reasonable explanation is that he hates you. You are a very likable person, Dori, and his emotions are reversed. Possibly he may have come to believe that you are his only hope of being restored to normal. Even I initially misunderstood your powers, until your interview with The Karabot. Of course, there is the possibility that your question was purely rhetorical.”

“Brainiac,” said Dori, “Have you read Zellani Vakk’s translation of the Books of the Entities of the Emotional Spectrum?”

“The works by the False Ganthet?” said Brainiac Five. “No, I cannot say I have. I prefer non-fiction.”

“You ought to, one of these days. They helped me better understand my powers,” said Dori. “Pay particular attention the the sections regarding Volthoom, the First Lantern.”

“Interesting,” said Brainiac Five. “I will give them my attention as soon as possible.”

Dori considered. She had, occasionally, been able to affect the emotions of others. She had always been able to make others like her, and had once been able to drain fear from a crowd. But such efforts might have unpredictable effects, directed at Rekojeth. What would happen if she overwhelmed him with a blast of pure will? Would his emotions be dampened, or enhanced? What was the dark side of Ion; that green idol she had seen on the Rock of Eternity? Dori searched her mind. It was Hubris, or Pride. Would a blast of green energy remder Rekojeth humble?

It had been about ten minutes when Brainiac Five called back.

“Some of Zellani’s translation is problematic,” he said. “She often uses modern colloquialisms which do not accurately reflect the underlying meaning. But all in all, well done.”

“I ought to have known,” said Dori, “That you could read Ancient Maltusian.”

“Nothing of the kind,” said Brainiac Five. “It was necessary for me to learn it today. That is why it took me so long to get back to you. Dori, does your connection to the Emotional Spectrum replicate the powers of Volthoom?”

“Yes,” said Dori. “No. That is, I have never tried to use it-- them-- in that way. But it seems… perhaps it is possible. Some… have told me I could. That the Entities would teach me how.”

“Volthoom is a verified historical figure,” said Brainiac Five. “It is unquestionable that he actually existed. But he was a madman. His unlimited power corrupted him, destroyed his humanity-- if he was ever human to begin with. Had it not been for the Hidden Ones… Please do not follow that path. I acknowledge your maternal instinct, and your desire to protect your child. However, there are others-- myself included-- who are attempting to apprehend and heal him. It is only a matter of time. Please be patient. Take care of yourself-- but leave Rekojeth alone.”

“I will consider your advice,” said Dori. “Thank you.”

Once again, Dori found herself entertaining an unwanted guest. A young man in a lavender bodysuit, decorated with a rainbow lightning bolt, was standing in her living room. Sparks of multi-colored lightning flickered around his body.

“Hello, Great-Grandmother,” said the boy. “They call me the Rainbow Flash. Meredith’s daughter married into the Thawn-Allen line. Will marry.”

“So, you are from the future?” asked Dori.

“Yes, I have come back to warn you-- do not go through with your plans against Rekojeth. Please do not meddle in his history. It is too dangerous.”

“You have come back in time to warn me against altering the timeline?” asked Dori. "The one which created you"

“I recognize the irony,” said Dori’s putative descendant.

“Because I will fail?” asked Dori.

“Because you will succeed,” said the Rainbow Flash, “And create the alternative future with which I am familiar.”

“And how do you know any other future would be better?” asked Dori.

“It must be,” said the Rainbow Flash. “It has to be. But already, I see I have convinced you… Good-bye, Great-Grandmother...” He faded away, as though he had never existed. Had he been real?, Dori wondered. Or a construct of Rekojeth, meant to throw her off the track?

Dori did what she always did when facing a hard decision. She consulted her feelings.

Taking out her yoga mat, she sat and inspected her deepest feeling. Which was the right path? She wanted to protect herself from the mad Coluan. From anyone who would do her and her child harm. She was tired of having others rescue her. She wanted to take control of her own life. And yet, Brainiac Five was correct: accessing the full power of the Entities of the Emotional Spectrum was a path to madness. She had seen it had even affected the Maltusians themselves. Even Sodam Yat, to an extent. But just this once… she could turn back time… she could see that Xart Prax never became Rekojeth… Far away, she could hear the Entities of the Emotional Spectrum cheering, “Yes! Yes!”

“Well, that decides it, then,” Dori said to herself.

* * *

Ennis came home for dinner that evening.

“I have decided,” said Dori, “To ignore this Rekojeth, the latest in a long string of villains who have been targeting me. I will leave it to others, again.”

“Perhaps a wise course,” said Ennis. “We know so little about him, really. Querl is the expert on renegade Coluans. I never did like playing the hero, anyway.”

Suddenly, Rekojeth himself appeared behind the couch, in front of the window. Startled, Dori and Ennis quickly recognized it as a mere hologram.

“Well done, Dori Aandraison,” the mad Coluan cackled. His laughter was like fingernails on a blackboard. “Let there be peace between us!” He smiled, giggling. “At least, until the next time!” Convulsed with laughter, the green man suddenly paused. “Help us, Dori Aandraison, you’re our only hope!”

Ennis had, by now, found the tiny holographic projector in front of the repaired window. He crushed it under one foot. It made a satisfying crunch, as Rekojeth’s image faded away.

“I wonder what sort of Coluan beast he would transmogrify into?” Ennis said casually.

CHAPTER FOUR - QUIS EST VERITAS?

There were only two occupants of the Legion cruiser.



“Ovinnik Bast is an unusual name,” the blue-skinned boy observed.

“That is the Earth-name I chose,” answered the cat-faced girl. “But the Legionnaires prefer to call me ‘Copycat’. You are to be my Legion supervisor on this mission?”

“I am not yet a Legionnaire,” said the android Probe®. “I simply an Academy graduate, just as you are. This is mission is intended as an evaluation of my skills as much as it is of yours.”

“But are you not Graym Ranzz, brother of the Legion Leader, Validus,” asked Copycat.

“I am not,” said the blue-skinned boy. “Graym Ranzz is in a medically-induced coma on Colu, still suffering from Sigelian Brain Fever. Due to the extensive and progressive damage in the area of his hippocampus and amygdalae, Brainiac Five uploaded his memories and personality-- one might say, his ‘soul’-- into an electronic brain for safe-keeping. That brain was housed in an immature, ‘teen-aged’ android Probe® body. That brain and body are… myself. I took the name ‘Veritas’-- an ancient word meaning ‘truth’, as just as the name of my ‘brother’ Validus, means ‘strength’.”

“But you do not consider yourself to be Graym Ranzz?” asked Copycat. “Perhaps a Graym Ranzz? A -- copy?-- of Graym Ranzz?” Copycat laughed at her use of the Interlac word she had so recently learned.

“There are numerous reasons not to consider myself so,” said Veritas. “While I have Graym’s memories, they are like a dream-- although I do not sleep. They seem distant, like something that happened to someone else. His personality is more immediate, but even that is affected by my nature. Graym Ranzz did not have the intellectual capacity of my electronic brain. I am told I register level eight on the Coluan scale of intelligence. Nor did he have my modest telepathic senses. This has caused us to diverge, and individualize. For example, Graym would not have been troubled by the existential question, as I am.”

“Which existential question?” asked Copycat.

“Quis est Veritas,” said the blue-skinned boy. “Who is Veritas?”

“Nor do I puzzle about such questions,” said Copycat. “We Nyorpans are what we are.”

“You are a world of shapeshifters?” said Veritas.

“Perhaps,” said Copycat. “Perhaps not. It depends upon your definition. All Nyorpans are able to change our form. But we do not merely take on the appearance of others. We also replicate their skills, abilities, powers, personalities, and memories, down to the last detail-- their ‘souls’, as you have proposed. Where I do meet this Graym Ranzz, I could touch him, and would be completely subsumed into his identity. Of course, I, too, would then suffer from Sigelian Brain Fever.”

“Then, when we shook hands back on Legion World…” said Veritas.

“Yes, I added you to my repertoire,” said Copycat. “However, I am told I ought to request your permission before becoming you. I am still trying to understand this odd concept of ‘privacy’ you non-Nyorpans seem to value. On Nyorp, sharing our various forms with one another is the major activity among us. It is as common as ‘eating’ seems to be across the rest of the Galaxy.”

The ship’s monitor indicated that the cruiser had fallen into orbit around Dracksler.

“DrackslerGov, this is Copycat of Nyorp, and Vertias of Winath, on a mission under the direction of the Legion of Super-Heroes.” Veritas was manning communications. “You have a damaged reconnaissance satellite you need assistance in recovering?”

“Legion cruiser, this is DrackslerGov,” came the reply. “Fortunately, it has fallen in an isolated location, on Dvesha’s Island. Proceed with extreme caution. These old extraplanetary exploratory vessels used nuclear reactors as motive power, and it is highly radioactive.”

Veritas shut down the communicator. “I am frequently astonished that any intelligent species has managed to survive without utterly destroying their world.” he said.

“Many did,” noted Copycat. “We need to pick up this object, and transport it safely to Weber’s World for disposal?”

“Yes,” said Veritas. “This anti-gravitic containment unit ought to do the trick.” He opened a hatch, and indicated a cube about two-and-a-half meters tall. “The only difficult part is maneuvering close enough to pick up the pieces satellite, without over-exposing our ship to the nuclear radiation. The area will probably be chaotic, with more or less radioactive fragments scattered around a largish area. I suppose we can use the ship’s tractor beam to collect it all.”

“I have a form that is quite resistant to radiation,” said Copycat. “I’m sure I could take the containment unit around, and fill it up with pieces myself. Depending on how long it takes, I might have to shift back to my base form and rest and recharge for awhile. Still, it might be easier that way.”

“You have a point,” said Veritas. “I’m sure I could monitor your physiology from the ship, in case your other form is not a radiation-proof as you imagine.” He checked the monitor as the cruiser descended. “Odd,” he said, “The wreckage seems to be very localized. It is possible that this satellite did not break up at all on re-entry. I am not entirely familiar with ancient Dracksler technology. Who knows what it may have been made of.”

“Get the ship as close as you safely can, and I will reconnoiter,” said Copycat. There was no shifting, no intermediate form, but suddenly, a short, stocky being had replace the cat-like girl. His face looked as though it had been carved from pink granite. His single, ruby-like eye wrapped halfway around his head. His lips were thin and brittle-looking. He wore what appeared to be a helmetless spacesuit.

“I am Qob,” said the creature. “Eons ago, I came to Nyorp, a space-explorer. The natives were friendly, and very interested in copying my form. I have been duplicated and re-duplicated for generations. I suppose they still find me interesting, and useful.”

“Do you understand our mission?” asked Veritas. “And agree to help us?”

“I retain many of my host’s memories,” said Qob, “Although they fade the longer she uses my form. I am willing to explore this world. And you need not concern yourself with my resistance to radiation. My people are virtually invulnerable to such hazards.”

Qob left the ship, towing the anti-gravity case behind him. “These telepathic communication devices are a marvel,” he commented. “I do not see the crash site. Am I near?”

“You are virtually on top of it,” said Veritas. “Check around with your hand monitor.”

“There is nothing here,” said Qob. “Wait… there is a small device here, outputting an intense amount of nuclear radiation… no, it is not nuclear radiation at all… it is a signal, mimicking radiation, for your monitors… it is all an illusion… Why…?”

“Return to the ship immediately!” Veritas shouted audibly as well as telepathically. “It’s a trap!”

Copycat appeared for just a moment in her default form, then quickly shifted into a swiftwolf, speeding back to the ship in a streak of crimson and gold, quickly leaving the containment unit behind. Vertias simultaneously opened the airlock, and brought up the shields as she arrived, shifting once again to her default form. In that same instant, a silver-and-green saucerlike craft materialized out of the air above them. A golden ray lanced out, slicing through the ship’s shield, disintegrating a portion of the airlock, and the wall next to it. Protected by a Coluan shield-belt, Veritas took a direct hit, but was unharmed. But Copycat, hit only a glancing blow, staggered inside, her left arm a withered, burnt cinder.

Veritas picked up the cat-girl, and thumbed a medical couch out of the wall. As he lay her down, he explained, “It will take him awhile to recharge his weapon. I recognize it; ordinarily it would be able to cut through even my shields, but it was weakened by our ship’s defenses. I’m sure you are in shock. Can you help me interpret your medical readings?”

“Just get us out of here,” said Copycat. She shifted again, this time to a salamander-like being with bright green skin. “Sa’Eed. Pleased to meet you. Dear me, I seem to have lost an arm! Do not worry, I heal quickly.” The arm was re-growing as he spoke.

“I am afraid we are no longer flight-worthy,” said Veritas. “However, if I can access the warp-coils…”

By the time Veritas' work was complete, Sa’Eed was gone, and Copycat was in her default form again, now fully healed. The ship shook briefly.

“I have re-calibrated the warp coils to randomly teleport us up to one hundred meters at random intervals,” he said. “Fortunately, our cloak is still functioning. That should give us some time.”

“I have attempted to send a Legion distress call,” said Copycat. “However, something is blocking communications. I cannot even raise DrackslerGov.”

There was a crash, somewhat far away. “Missed,” said Veritas.

A voice spoke out of the air around them, as though the local atmosphere itself had transformed into a giant speaker.

“Is the game now hide-and-seek?” the voice laughed. “How wonderful! I was expecting a couple of Science Police to fall into my web, but instead, I have found Legionnaires! Make peace with what gods you have, children, you cannot hide forever! Soon you will join your companions on Shanghalla! If they can find the bits!” More mad laughter. Then silence.

“I knew it was a Coluan,” said Veritas. “By his weaponry. But why did it have to be Rekojeth?”

“Rekojeth,” said Copycat. “Xart Prax of Colu. A renegade Coluan who sought to increase his intelligence above Coluan-normal. His emotional process was damaged, so that he experiences joy for sorrow, hatred for love, courage for fear. And so forth. And vice versa. I do not believe I would like to add him to my inventory.”

“It’s all very well to know about him from the Legion Archives,” said Veritas, “But now he is out there, and targeting us with a weapon that can cut through our ship’s shields like… like some very sharp thing cutting through some very soft thing.”

There was another crash, somewhat farther away. The ship lurched.

“A clean miss,” said Vertias. “But we also teleported. If only we could contact the Legionnaires... still, he appears not to know exactly who he is up against, as yet... He may act cautiously... No, scratch that, his actions will be unpredictable...”

“How is it you are not already a Legionnaire?” asked Copycat. “You must have graduated from the Academy before I enrolled.”

“A year ago,” said Veritas. “More. My intellect is easily replicated by Gnill Opral. The Legionnaires are seeking more diversity among their membership. They allowed me, however, to share the laboratory on Legion World. I serve as something of Tech Support, as does Theena. And they gave me a place to live…”

“Because the Legion Leader, Validus, is your brother?” said Copycat.

“And because I have nowhere else to go. Our parents… his parents… find it painful to have me on Lightning Ring Farms on Winath,” said Veritas. “Particularly his mother, and his sisters. Being telepaths, I am a constant reminder of their lost brother… Slightly off. Almost, but not quite, Graym…”

A golden ray cut through the ceiling, creating a gash all the way down to the floor, but fortunately missing both cadets, and any truly vital equipment.

“A hit,” said Veritas. The ship shook violently again.

“I thought he needed to recharge his weapon?” said Copycat.

“That was just a Khundish sonic disruptor,” said Veritas. “Scary, but no real damage, as long as the ship’s shields can re-generate. He’s hitting us when he can.” The ship lurched again, less violently. “And the warp coils have moved us again,” said Veritas.

“I have an idea,” said Copycat. “I have a very powerful form, passed down for generations. I could only become her for a very short time; I wouldn’t be able to shift at all after that, not until I had rested and re-charged. She may be powerful enough… she has fought a Coluan before…”

Supergirl, Kara Zor-El of Krypton, appeared momentarily, then sped away, faster than Veritas could follow. There was a terrible clash and clamor. Then the streak of red-and-blue returned, collapsing into the catlike form of the Nyorpan girl.

“She couldn’t do it,” said Copycat. “She gave him the full force of her powers: heat-vision, super-strength, but his personal force-field is too strong. She turned over a mountain of soil, and buried Rekojeth and his ship beneath it, but I don’t think it will hold him long. Her memories are fading quickly… she had hoped we had a Phantom Zone Projector. I wish I had touched one once; we could use it on this villain.”

“A Phantom Zone Projector…” said Veritus. “There is one on Legion World. But it is an inanimate object. You could not replicate it or its abilities.”

Copycat laughed. “This artificial distinction between ‘animate’ and ‘inanimate’ is lost on Nyorpans,” she said. “Do I not also re-create the clothing and artifacts of the other living forms I assume? Many Nyorpans shift into rocks or piles of stones from time to time. Of course, having no will, they do not shift back to their natural forms until they have run out of energy. And it takes very little energy to become an outcropping of stone. Some spend months, even years, in those ‘inanimate’ forms. It is considered… restful.”

“Promise me,” said Veritas, “If… if we fail, and Rekojeth destroys our ship… transform yourself into a rock… or better yet, inertron, if you can… wait for the Legion to find you…”

“I would rather we triumph against this mad creature,” said Copycat. “There must be other weapons that are effective against Coluan shielding.”

“Yes, there are,” said Veritas. “The United Planets has been researching them ever since Brainiac Five joined the Legion. Gnill Opral is one of them. A Phantom Zone Projector. The Anti-Daxamite Bomb. A Kormon stun-ray. There is one I can think of that would be particularly appropriate. Also of Coluan origin. It reverses a Dox-class Coluan force-shield so that the individual it protects is trapped within it, immobilized. Everyone outside would be safe from him.”

Veritas looked down at his waist, then around at the interior of the ship. “I almost have what it takes to build one from scratch,” he said. “It could be hooked up to the ship’s offensive systems… I would need to disassemble my own force-shield belt for parts… but I would need parts from a second belt as well, to provide sufficient motive force…” There was another crash, close enough that the ship rocked. “A near miss,” said Veritas.

“But,” said Copycat, “We do have a second force-shield belt.” She transformed herself into a perfect duplicate of Veritas from an hour before. “Ah,” she said. “I understand.”

The two Probes® worked together quickly. The ship took another non-fatal hit, before they were done. The communications panels went black, and the monitors shut down, but they had been useless before, at any rate.

“Fascinating,” said Copycat-Veritas. “This visor is entirely cosmetic. We have no eyes. We ‘see’ through clairvoyant senses. I knew that, of course,” he continued. “Although she did not.”

The two clairvoyants easily targeted the Coluan and his saucer, triggered the anti-shield weapon, then exited their ship. Retrieving the abandoned anti-gravitic transport cube, they loaded the paralyzed Rekojeth into it.

“Brainiac Five,” said the original Veritas, “Has successfully reversed similar brain damage in an alternate-Universe version of Xart Prax called ‘Rekropeth’. I am sure he can quickly effect a similar cure on our prisoner.”

“I know that,” said Copycat-Veritas.

“Of course you do,” said the original.

“Who are you?” asked Rekojeth, giggling, cheerful, almost giddy, and bold.

“Ego sum Veritas,” said the original.

What an amazing battle! Veritas and Copycat would both make fine Legionnaires, in my opinion. Well done.

I love Copycat. Wonderful abilities and more than nine lives. And I feel rather sorry for Veritas, although he seems to be at peace with his situation.

What a peculiar encounter with the Rainbow Flash! Leaves one scratching one's head.

And dear old Brainy, lending 1/24 of his mind to deal with Dori, then learning a language and reading a book in a few minutes. It must get boring, being so smart.

Good joke about rescuing the tree from the cat. Makes perfect sense, having seen many plants destroyed by intemperate and uncaring felines.