Post by lee on Jun 30, 2024 23:13:44 GMT
The Wanderers
(Legion of Tyranny)
Part One
Earth 2983--
“Have you forgotten Krypton?” the scientist asked, his voice growing loud enough to reveal his aggravation,
“A myth,” someone replied.
The scientist shot the speaker an angry look.
“The legend of Krypton is just a tale told to unruly children to convince them of the
importance of heeding their parents.”
The scientist turned to the new speaker. “With as much respect as you have earned from me, Mr. President,” he said, his voice cold and even, “you are a fool.”
The Earthgov president leaped to his feet. “Watch your tone.”
A second scientist stepped forward and pulled his companion back. “Forgive Vidar, your excellency,” he said. “His frustration comes from concern. Concern for us, for you,” he said, indicating the council, “and for all of Earth's citizens.”
Vidar pulled away. “Bah,” he said. “My frustration comes from trying to convince imbeciles of their deadly folly. Surely even the scientists of Krypton's House of El would have shared my frustrations. To think parents would resort to using the destruction of an entire planet as a way to coerce their children into behaving is asinine. Come, Regulus. Let us leave these fools. We have much work ahead of us before the end comes.”
“No matter how much you desire it,” Dr. Regulus told his colleague once they were out of the council chambers, “you cannot simply will them to believe our theories. They are not scientists; they demand physical proof. Charts and graphs mean nothing to them.”
Vidar wiped the thin layer of perspiration from the top of his bald heard then rubbed his hand on his white tunic. “When the physical evidence is before them, it will be too late.”
Once they were beyond the confines of the Earthgov building, a personal transport vehicle hovered nearby. As they approached, a door opened and the two men stepped inside and sat down.
“Your expressions speak volumes.” The speaker had the build of a former athlete. His face was framed by shoulder-length reddish-blond hair and a close-cropped beard and mustache.
“You don't know the half of it, Leland,” Dr. Regulus said. “The council still wouldn't listen to the facts.”
“Did you expect anything less, Zaxton?” Leland asked. “Then, we have no choice but to proceed without their blessings.”
“How far have we progressed?” Dr. Regulus asked.
“Several of the colony planets in the system have offered to take some of the expected refugees until a new homeworld can be found, but not enough to save the majority. We have one Seeker-class ship in space dock on the dark side of the moon: it has remained hidden from Earthgov's sensors until we heard their decision. We also have two dozen Evac-class ships in various stages of completion at my factories on Neptune. We’ve even gone so far as to contact other dimensions, namely the one called Skartaris. Unfortunately, although understandable, the Morgana, as she calls herself, said her world could not possibly take refugees. She said she would be expending most of her energy preventing the destruction of Skartaris and wouldn’t have time to keep our people safe.”
“Why would she have to keep our people safe?” Dr. Regulus asked.
“From my research,” Leland said, “Skartaris is a world more akin to medieval Earth than the one we know. And, that includes creatures we believed only existed in ancient history and legend.”
“Do we have any ideas of a target planet?” Vidar asked, steering the conversation back to the scientific realm and away from the fantasy world of Skartaris.
“I have a list of the inhabited and inhabitable in what the fabled Guardians designated sectors 2813 and 2814. My people are also looking at possible candidate worlds for terraforming, if it comes to that.”
“What about recruitment?” Dr. Regulus asked.
“Recruitment is taking a little longer than expected. We need to be certain we have the right group of people for the mission,” Leland confessed as his vehicle decelerated and came to a stop in his private port at McCauley Plaza.
Leland McCauley's personal secretary was waiting at the open doors of his private lift when the trio approached. The look on her face let the men know there was news.
The group rode the lift in silence. Leland glanced at the faces of his companions as they neared his penthouse suite. Although her eyes danced with excitement, his personal secretary waited patiently to reveal what she knew. Dr. Regulus' eyes revealed that he, too, was excited to hear what she had to say. Vidar was still lost in his own anger at the ignorance of the Earthgov officials.
When the lift stopped and the group entered the hallway just outside McCauley's office, the young woman excused herself and approached a gentleman seated nearby. As she drew near, the man looked up at her, then his eyes moved past her and fell on Leland McCauley. To his credit, he calmly climbed to his feet and took slow, measured, steps.
“What can we do for you, Mister...?” Leland asked, giving the man an opportunity to introduce himself.
“I know what is going to happen,” he said, “and I want to offer my help.”
“We will take all the help we can get,” Leland assured him. “We would, however, like to know exactly who is offering to help.”
“Oh, forgive me,” the man apologized as he extended his hand. “My name is Markx Grimbor,” he said, “and I am a locksmith.”
Part Two
Earth 2984--
“Did you hear?” Markx said as he approached Leland’s secretary. “More importantly, does he know?”
“Mr. McCauley is expecting you,” the young woman said.
The locksmith looked at her for a moment before realizing she had answered his question. As he stepped forward, Leland’s door slid open. He paused before entering and looked back at the secretary.
“It will be fine.” She mouthed the words.
Markx tried to smile, but he knew his appearance was more of that of a man in pain. He gave up, mouthed the words “Thank you”, and passed through the open door.
For the better part of a year, Markx Grimbor had worked closely with Leland McCauley in trying to save the planet, or, at least, find a way to save as many people as possible. He knew a few of the man’s associates, but the man in the office now was a stranger to him.
“They have declared me a criminal,” Markx said. “All I did was try to save their lives.”
“It will be alright,” Leland tried to assure him. “You can’t blame them, though. Not really. What would you do in their position? You wake up one morning to find your homeworld surrounded by massive chains; you are going to feel powerless and start trying to blame someone.”
“Haven’t you explained that the chains are a stopgap at best?” Markx asked. “They are helping to hold the planet together long enough for the people to be evacuated.”
Leland sighed. “We are still trying to convince them the threat of earth’s destruction is real.”
“Until then, what am I to do?” Markx asked. “I can’t live my life and try to maintain the chains’ integrity from a cell.”
Leland and his guest stood up. “We understand that, which is why I had already planned for such a possibility.”
Markx looked at the two men. “I don’t understand. What do you plan to do?”
Leland looked at his guest, then smiled. “It is simple, really. We are going to turn you in.”
The locksmith was stunned. “Turn...turn...me in?”
“As a matter of fact, the authorities should be here shortly,” Leland told him.
Markx turned and started to run toward the door, but he felt something wrap around his waist, keeping him from going anywhere. He struggled for several seconds, before looking to see what held him. He was stunned when he saw a tentacle preventing him from leaving. He looked back at the two men.
Leland’s guest had one arm extended, but it had ceased to be an arm at the elbow, instead, becoming the very thing that held him in place.
“What…?” the locksmith started to ask, a look of horror on his face.
Leland approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy. I told you we had planned for this.”
Markx shoulders sagged. Betrayed. He couldn’t believe Leland had betrayed him.
Leland continued to smile as he glanced at his guest. “You can let him go.”
In an instant, the tentacle was gone and the man’s arm was normal again.
“Markx,” Leland said, “I would like you to meet Toog Lintens. Toog is a Durlan.”
The locksmith didn’t know what to say.
Toog stepped forward and extended his hand as his human form began to change into that of an orange humanoid with antennas. “I apologize for the deception,” he said.
Markx reluctantly shook the Durlan’s hand. “I still don’t understand.”
The secretary’s voice could be heard over a small speaker on Leland’s desk “The authorities have entered the building.”
“We must hurry,” Leland said.
Toog circled Markx a few times, then stopped in front of him. The locksmith’s eyes grew wide when he found himself staring into his own face.
“I’m going to need you to step into my restroom,” Leland said.
It was finally starting to dawn on Markx what Leland had planned. “I’m sorry you are mixed up in this.”
Toog, or rather, the new Markx smiled. “They will forget about you soon enough and this will all be over. In the meantime, I will be able to come and go as I please, thanks to my abilities. They will never suspect it isn’t really you they are holding.”
Markx grabbed the Durlan’s hand again and shook it. “Thank you for this.”
“Just make sure to keep your world safe until your government decides to act.”
“Mr. McCauley,” the secretary’s voice said. “The authorities are here.”
Leland motioned for Markx to hurry. “Please tell them I am bringing Mr. Grimbor out now.”
Part Three
Earth 2984--
Leland let his finger push and pull files and images back and forth across the screen of his compu-pad. Faces and names flashed before his eyes. “How many?” he asked, looking up at the young woman standing patient before his desk.
“Twenty-four, so far,” she replied.
“What makes this group so special, Dr. Teylor?”
Dr. Reise Teylor cleared her throat and began to answer the one question she was sure he would ask. “As you know,” she began, “aside from the rare mutation or implant, those of us on Earth have no special abilities. For the past year, I have been researching the legends of old, specifically the twentieth century, where hundreds of men and women had unique abilities that set them apart from their fellow man. Early on in my studies, I happened upon a phrase, “the meta-gene”. “
Leland looked up. “Meta-gene?”
Dr. Teylor smiled, proud of what she had discovered. “When certain stimuli were introduced to an earthling's life in moments of excessive stress, their bodies changed; they gained abilities.” Knowing her employer was the possessor of a limited amount of patience, she skipped over the majority of her discovery. “During the physical exams of the recruits, we detected an anomaly in some of the young men and women.”
She could see he was intrigued and his next question proved it. “This anomaly...the meta-gene?”
“Yes,” she said, and anticipating what he would ask next, she volunteered the answer. “So far, we have discovered several individuals who could possibly have the meta-gene.”
Leland looked, again, at the names and faces on his compu-pad, then, back up at the young woman. The smile he revealed was infectious and Dr. Teylor was soon smiling as well.
His smile quickly vanished, but hers remained. “Even knowing about this meta-gene, how do you purpose to activate it? Surely, we aren't expected to manufacture the various scenarios needed to trigger the change.”
“We don't have to,” she replied. “Knowing it now exists, we have identified nearly two dozen individuals who have already experienced the activation of their meta-gene. We have managed to recruit most of them and feel the others will join as soon as they are given the opportunity.”
As Leland scrolled through the remaining recruits, his eyes grew wide when they fell upon the final one. He looked up at Dr. Teylor and then back at the screen. “Is this...? Are you...?”
The woman nodded. “Yes, that is your niece, Celeste, and, yes, it appears she has an active meta-gene.”
Part Four
Dr. Regulus took a deep breath, then entered the room at the med-center. Two eyes—the only things visible beneath the bandages that covered the bed-bound figure—watched his every movement. Before Regulus could speak, a strong but slightly muffled voice addressed him.
“You made it,” the figure said.
Dr. Regulus smiled. “I told you I wouldn't miss your big day.” He paused a moment before continuing. “So, Dirk, how are you feeling?”
“Anxious,” the young man replied, “but I figure that is to be expected.”
The older man nodded.
“I'm also feeling a little warm, but that might be the bandages.” Dirk's eyes glanced at the doorway. “I wish they would hurry and get these things off of me.”
“I want you to know,” Regulus began, but Dirk raised a hand.
“We've talked about this before, Zax” Dirk said. “I'm the one who was careless. I shouldn't have walked in without letting you know I was there. Your quick thinking is the reason I am still alive.”
Regulus knew Dirk Morgna was telling the truth, but it didn't ease his conscience. Even though he had managed to save the young man, his assistant, Zarl Hendricks wasn't as lucky. Before he had the chance to fall too far into despair, however, Dirk's nurse, an attractive Sklarian, entered.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Regulus,” she said, before addressing her patient. “Dirk said you wouldn't miss his big day.” She turned to her patient. “And speaking of big days, are you ready to get rid of these bandages?”
“More than ready,” Dirk admitted.
The nurse smiled. “Dr. Nar should be...ah, here he comes now.”
Dr. Nar, an Ungaran, entered and nodded to his patient.”How are you feeling?”
“To be honest, Doc,” Dirk began, “I feel like I'm burning up.”
The doctor raised the med-scanner that hung from a strap around his neck and let its beam sweep over the young man. Looking at the readings, he reset the device and repeated the sweep. “Odd,” he said, softly.
“What's wrong?” Regulus asked.
Nar reset the device again, then removed it from around his neck and handed it to Regulus. With his free hand, he touched Dirk on the forehead with the palm of his hand.
Dr. Regulus waited until he was clear, then performed the scan himself. After seeing the results, he, too, felt the urge to touch the young man's forehead. “Fascinating.” A thought crossed his mind. “Aside from burning up, how do you feel?”
“Pretty good, actually,” Dirk replied, after a moment of thought.
“What are you thinking?” Dr. Nar asked Regulus.
Regulus handed the med-scanner back to Nar. “Can this be set to detect gene anomalies?”
The Ungaran made a few adjustments, then handed it back. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
Dr. Regulus performed the scan, read the results, then returned the device to Nar. He smiled as the physician read the results himself, looked at Dirk, then back at the results.
“I have never, in my time of dealing with Earthlings, seen anything like this,” Dr. Nar said. “What am I looking at?”
Dirk looked at nurse—who shrugged—then at the doctors, his expression one of worry. “What's wrong with me?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Dr. Regulus assured him. “It seems the accident has activated what was once called a “meta-gene”.”
Dirk held his hands up before his face. “Does that mean we can start removing these bandages?”
Dr. Nar smiled and held out his hand. “Nurse Drayl, “he said, “would you hand me the low-intensity laser?”
Seconds later, the bandages were being removed to reveal unblemished, pink skin.
* * * * *
“This is not how I hoped to be spending my first day without bandages,” Dirk told Regulus as they arrived at McCauley Plaza. “Nurse Drayl was going to stop by my place after work to give me a thorough post-bandage exam.”
“And I truly hate that you are going to miss it,” Regulus said, smiling at his companion, “but the future may just depend on what we discover about you over the next few hours.”
Dirk looked at the man, not sure if he was being serious or just having a laugh at his expense. He couldn't decide which.
As they entered the main building of the complex, a young woman stood with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Dr. Reise Teylor hid her excitement at actually meeting someone with an active meta-gene very well.
“And who might you be aside from the love of my night?” Dirk asked, taking her left hand and raising it to his lips.
“I'm the one who is going to put you through your paces and see what you are made of,” she replied, pulling her hand back.
Dirk smiled. “Sounds...promising.”
“I've waited my entire career for this,” Reise said, returning the smile.
Part Five
The Watchtower, 2985--
Leland McCauley stood on the observation deck of the satellite, looking out at the golden yellow and red rocket being loaded with supplies. The now-enlightened Earthgov had officially named the craft “Terra's Hope”, but the twenty-three young men and women who would be calling it home until a suitable new world was found for the people of Earth, simply referred to it as “The Clubhouse”. Waiting in the distance, he, occasionally caught a glimpse of the first three completed Evac-class ships, waiting for the bulk of the planet's population to begin boarding. He had been amazed at the spacecraft he had commissioned to save his people, regarding them as the pinnacle of scientific achievement—until the satellite appeared in geosynchronous orbit over the Earth's equator.
The satellite was far beyond anything he could have imagined, beginning with its stealth technology. If it had, as its sole occupant had claimed, remained undetected for nearly a thousand years, it was beyond anything he had ever seen. According to the Martian, the systems were a combination of Earthian, Thanagarian, Martian, Kryptonian, even Atlantean, as well as that from worlds he had never heard of, such as New Genesis and Apokolips. The satellite, a massive structure, had employed a staff of hundreds to take care of the mundane day-to-day maintenance. According to his companion on the observation deck, the staff had been made of a mixture of individuals who were either the best in their respective fields or troubled youth who just needed an opportunity to rise above their situations. At some point, as his teammates began to retire and pass away, he began replacing members of the staff with robots—many of who were once heroes in their own right.
“The Earth owes you debt we will never be able to repay,” Leland McCauley said to the green humanoid beside him. “Had you not made your presence known and convinced the Earthgov that what we've been saying is the truth, countless lives would have been lost.”
“Since losing my homeworld,” the being began, “I swore to protect the people of this world. H'ronmeer, why must I lose another one?”
Leland looked at his companion's reflection in the glassite. The Martian had chosen to make his presence known to the people of Earth in the form he had once worn during his days as a hero. His powerful body was only somewhat diminished; age—and the burdens of duty and sorrow—had stooped his shoulders and bent his posture, but not by much. He was still an imposing figure and the determination to protect burned bright in his crimson eyes.
“J'onn,” he said as he turned. “What will you do...after? You would be more than welcome to join us in search for a new home.”
The Martian stood silently watching the loading of the Clubhouse for a few moments more before turning to face Leland. “Thank you, but, no. Even though you have chosen to find a new, uninhabited, world to call home, there are still colonies on most of the planets in this solar system. We have decided to take the Watchtower out of Earth's orbit once the last evac-ship has left and use its capabilities to protect the entire system. With Earth gone, there are those who would like to take advantage her absence and enslave the others.”
“I can’t help but wonder if we shouldn’t have found a way to take the colonists from the other planets with us,” Leland said. “You know when the Earth is destroyed, it is going to send very large fragments of the planet in every direction. How do we know we aren’t dooming the rest of the solar system, or, at least, the planets closest to us, as well?”
The Martian placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Steps have been taken already to protect them from most of the damage. Thankfully, their governments heeded my warning in plenty of time. You need not worry about them and cause yourself to bear more burdens than necessary. Just trust me.”
Leland nodded. “I understand,” he said, “and I do trust you.”
J'onn chose to change the subject. “I spent some time observing the Wanderers this morning.”
“The Wanderers?” Leland asked.
The Martian allowed himself a brief smile. “It is what they have started calling themselves. One of the younger ones, Lyle Norg, said that is what they shall call themselves until they find the people of Earth a new home.”
Leland smiled. “Then may it not be a name they have to wear very long.”
Part Six
The Watchtower--
“I don't understand why we all can't just move to Mars or one of the other worlds we colonized in the past.”
“We've gone over this before, Danielle,” Jacques Foccart said to his young sister as he finished packing the last of their belongings. “Even if each planet took refugees, they are not equipped to handle everyone. After a while, the burden on their resources would become too great. Our population is the densest in the system. You must also remember the colonists have had centuries to adapt to their environments while we are not adequately equipped for long-term exposure. We need a world of our own, one suitable for us are we are now.”
“I guess I understand,” Danielle said.
“Good,” Jacques said. “Now, don’t you have some systems to check?” He knew to the casual observer it must sound odd asking a 10 year-old girl to do system checks, but her meta-gene made her the perfect candidate to take care of The Clubhouse’s computer. She was able to interface and communicate with any computer she came in contact with.
Jacques was both surprised and relieved to discover Danielle was a meta since it meant they would be able to stay together. The thoughts of leaving her behind with no one to care for her almost kept him from volunteering for the mission. Knowing she would be with him made the decision much easier. He was even a bit jealous of her ability. While she could communicate with any computer, all he could do was turn invisible...and that wasn’t even an ability unique to him. Another boy, Lyle Norg, also manifested the ability to turn invisible.
“I’ll go as soon as I'm done packing,” Danielle announced as she was closing the last case containing their personal belongings. “Jacques?”
The young man sealed his last case then turned to his sister. “Yes?”
“I miss Mama and Papa,” Danielle said, sounding very much the child she was. “It seems wrong leaving without them.”
Jacques put his arms around his sister. “They have been gone for a long time, Chère Sœur. Their spirits now travel with us wherever we go.”
“I know,” she replied. “It is just...”
Jacques kissed the top of her head. “I know.”
The moment of tenderness ended when a badge on the chest of their uniforms began to emit a series of beeps. Jacques touched the badge. “Oui?”
“Are you ready to go?” The voice belonged to a young woman. “I have Jedidiah with me to help load up your belongings.”
“Everything is ready, Marya,” Jacques replied. “Come on up.”
Moments later, the door to the siblings’ quarters slid open to reveal a young woman with braided, crimson hair and a very muscular young man with purple skin.
“Jed!” Danielle shouted as she ran to him.
Jedidiah opened his arms as the girl leaped toward him and wrapped her own arms around his neck. “Dani,” he said. “Did you get everything packed?”
“I did,” she assured him. “Only the necessities, just like they told us.”
Jed held her at arms length as though she weighed nothing. “Are you sure you just packed the necessities?” he asked in mock seriousness.
Danielle gave him a sheepish grin. “Well, to me they are the necessities.”
Jed set her down. “Okay. As long as they are a necessity to you, I’ll take them to your cabin on the Clubhouse.”
“And speaking of the Clubhouse...” Jacques said.
Danielle looked at her brother. “I know,” she said. “I’m going.” She looked back at Jed. “Bye, Jed,” she said, hugging him around the waist.
“What about me?” Marya asked.
The little girl put her arms around the young woman. “Bye, Marya.” She turned and bolted out the door; the trio could hear her greeting people all the way down the hall.
Jed began to collect the Foccart’s belongings.
“I know you are strong,” Jacques commented, “but, surely, you are not going to carry everything back to the Clubhouse at once?”
“We have a grav-cart in the hallway,” Jed said.
“Are you ready?” Marya asked.
Jacques sighed. “As much as I can be, I guess. What about the two of you?”
“I can’t wait,” Jed replied. “Already said my goodbyes and got my parents’ stuff aboard their Evac ship.”
Jacques looked at Marya. “What about you?”
Marya shrugged. “As soon as we are finished, I will be taking a shuttle to Chongqing to make certain my grandfather is ready to go.”
“How many more of us do you have to collect?”
“Three,” she said.
Jacques held his hand out. “Give me the list and I’ll finish collecting everyone’s belongings.”
Marya cocked her head slightly and looked at him. “Are you sure?”
“If you go now, you can catch the next shuttle,” he said. “It will allow you a little extra time to get your grandfather prepared for the evacuation.”
The girl handed him the compu-pad and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you so much.” She turned and hurried out the door.
Jed was smiling when he came to collect the rest of the siblings’ belongings.
“What?” Jacques asked.
“She actually seemed...happy you offered to take over for her,” the big man said. “Marya rarely seems happy about anything.”
“And yet the two of you have been almost inseparable since you got here,” Jacques replied. “Perhaps, I think, you two might have a mutual attraction for each other.”
Jed laughed. “Not hardly. We enjoy each other’s company is all. She tends to be more relaxed around me than she is normally.”
“Still…” Jacques began.
“Do you want to carry your stuff yourself?” Jed asked, grinning.
Jacques looked at the cases still remaining, then raised the compu-pad. “So, who is next on our list?”
Both men shared a laugh and continued to empty the Foccart’s quarters.
Once it was empty, they made on final walk-through to make sure nothing important was forgotten. Jed returned with something tucked under his arm.
“I am surprised she didn’t pack that,” Jacques said as they exited.
When he and Jed were in the hallway, the lights inside went out and the door slid shut. It was time to start the next chapter in their lives.
Part Seven
The Clubhouse—
Leland McCauley stood in front of the group of young men and women upon whom the hope of the human race rested. He had taken the time to get to know each and every one of them and now took the time to look each and every one of them in the face and make eye contact.
“The people of Earth owe you a tremendous debt,” he began. “Many of you stand before me today, having said goodbye to loved ones, prepared to venture beyond our farthest colony in search of a new home for those you leave behind. We have been in contact with other races, seeking possible information on uninhabited worlds that might support a planet of refugees; these worlds have been uploaded into the computers aboard “Terra’s Hope”, excuse me, “The Clubhouse”.”
A cheer from the young people made him smile.
“We know this journey is going to be long and arduous, but, we have no doubts of your success. The dangers you may face are unimaginable, but, with your unique abilities, we firmly believe you have the capability to overcome whatever seemingly insurmountable odds you might encounter.”
Another cheer.
“And, finally, we know that every great expedition throughout history has had a leader both able and willing to make the hard decisions necessary to ensure their success. The Corps of Discovery Expedition led by Merriwether Lewis and William Clark. Shackleton’s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition led by Sir Ernest Shackleton. The Apollo 11 Mission under the command of Neil Armstrong, which took willingly mankind offworld for the first time. And let us not forget the Ancestors Expedition, led by Major Georj Blackwolf in the 23rd century. That expedition took a large group of Amerinds from Earth in search of the Star People—the Athranians, as we now know them to be—who took their descendants to the world the captives called Starhaven.
“Allow us to introduce to you, based on his knowledge of interstellar travel, and input from you, the members of this expedition, your leader for this mission...Kirt Niedrigh.”
There was another loud cheer that lasted long enough Leland to step back and Kirt to take his place. The young man allowed the cheer to continue for several seconds before he raised his hands to quiet them down.
“My fellow Wanderers,” he said as the room grew still. He looked around, then a big smile appeared on his face. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go find a new home!”
* * * * *
Despite Kirt’s rousing cry to go find a new home, once the excitement died down, the Wanderers continued preparing for their journey. Accompanied by his adviser, an attractive woman unfamiliar to most of those on the Clubhouse. Everywhere they couple went, gossip was left behind when they moved on.
Kirt had just finished speaking with their very young computer expert when he and the woman met Leland in the hallway.
“Kirt,” the man said, his smile not wavering. “How are things looking to you?”
The mission leader returned the man’s smile. “We should be ready to lift off on schedule.”
“Good,” the older man replied. He then turned his attention to the woman. “I know everyone connected to this mission, Miss, but I don’t seem to know you.”
Kirt spoke up. “Sir,” he said. “I’m afraid that is my fault. When she approached me saying she had been assigned as my adviser, I thought you knew.”
Both men looked at the woman, their smiles gone.
“Is Zerinna Zatara your real name?” Kirt asked.
The dark-haired woman nodded. “It is.”
“Why did you say you were assigned as my adviser?”
“I have been,” she answered.
“Miss,” Leland said. “If this is a ruse just to get off Earth, I’m afraid it is not going to work. If you can explain why you are here to my satisfaction, the worse that will happen is you will be politely escorted off the premises. If not, you may well be spending the remainder of your time until evacuation in a science cell.”
“I can assure you Miss Zatara was assigned as an adviser on this mission.”
The two men turned toward the sound of the voice in time to see the Martian becoming visible. Kirt raised his hands in defense, but Leland gently pushed them back down. “She is here at your request.” It was half question and half statement.
The Martian nodded. “I was once friends with an ancestor of hers nearly a thousand years ago. She is wise beyond her years and, I believe, someone who can be of great value to the team.”
Leland smiled. “Why wasn’t she brought into the program from the beginning if she is a meta?”
“Zerinna is not a meta,” the Martian said. “She is what is known as a homo magi.”
“So, she has spent time on Sorcerer’s World,” Kirt commented.
“Actually,” the woman spoke up. “I have never been to Sorcerer’s World. I gained a portion of my training from the Morgana in Skartaris, as well as communing with the spirits of my ancestors. Mine is a family long familiar with the ghosts of the past.”
Kirt was a young man who feared very little, but what he was discovering about his new adviser was not setting well with him. “What are her other qualifications to be my adviser? I would think a knowledge of tactics and science would be needed.”
The Martian nodded. “Zerinna is one of the few humans to ever receive training from the Pedagogues of Colu.”
Both men had heard of the Pedagogues, emissaries of the Benevolent Computo, High Governor of Colu. “You must be gifted, indeed,” Leland said. “I have heard the Pedagogues seek out only the most promising students.”
“Trust me,” the Martian replied. “Zerinna will be a great asset to this endeavor.”
Two beeps issued forth from a badge on Kirt’s navy blue jacket. All eyes were drawn to the badge.
“Kirt,” the young man said. “What is it?”
“We might have a problem, Captain.”
“Is that you, Peter?” Kirt asked.
“Yes. I was on the bridge and one of the long range sensors went off,” Peter said.
“I didn’t think they were online yet.”
“Danielle was running a quick diagnostic on them to make certain they were fully functional and an alarm began to sound. She checked the system again and shut the alarm off, but we decided to look at the data.”
“And?” Kirt asked.
“There is a ship inbound,” Peter replied.
“Inbound from where?” Leland asked.
“Danielle is checking on that, Sir,” Peter replied. “Hold on.”
The girl’s voice replaced Peter’s. “According to the computers’ trajectory calculations, which they promise are accurate to within less than a parsec, the ship is coming in from Khundia.”
Peter’s frantic voice cut back in. “It’s not just a ship. This thing is the size of a small planet!”
“Mr. McCauley,” another voice on the comm system called out. “We have an incoming transmission coming from out near Pluto.”
“On my way,” the man replied.
The Martian looked at Zerinna. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
The young woman spoke. “Tropsnart mih ot eht noitacinummoc retnec.”
In the blink of his eye, Leland McCauley was standing in the communication center in the Watchtower. A chorus of gasps at his sudden appearance filled his ears; although he was just as surprised as the staff, he gave no indication that his sudden appearance was anything but planned.
Well, now we know what she can do, he thought. “So”, he said aloud. “Let’s find out what our visitors want.”
Part Eight
Leland McCauley, along with the head of the Earth Emergency Services, Chief Zall Morgan, and Mojai Desai, the current Earthgov President, watched as a shuttle from the Tyrrazian Rescue World set down on the spaceport tarmac. The hatch opened and a party of four white-clad Tyrrazians led by a Khundian, also wearing white, emerged.
President Desai stepped forward and greeted the visitors. “Welcome to Earth.”
“I am Ambassador Ghadrak,” the Khundian said. “We are here to help with the evacuation of Earth.”
There was a collective sigh of relief from the humans.
“How did you know of our situation?” Chief Morgan asked.
The ambassador seemed genuinely surprised. “From the aid request we received, of course.”
Now, it was the humans’ turn to be surprised. Since Chief Morgan had asked the question, he knew Zall never sent the request, so President Desai looked at Leland, but the man just shrugged.
“If I may, who sent the request?” the Earthgov leader asked.
Ambassador Ghadrak removed a small tablet from his pocket and tapped the screen. After a moment, he replied. “This makes no sense. According to my computer, the message was received several weeks ago, which gave us time to make preparations and gather supplies, but it was originally produced and has been “suspended”, for lack of a better word, in our system for nearly two centuries. It is almost like it was waiting until now for us to receive it.”
Zall asked the question they were all thinking. “Who could have sent it? Who would have had such technology 200 years ago?”
“The message isn’t from the past,” Ambassador Ghadrak said, “it’s from the future.”
Although wide-eyed at the information, Leland’s mind turned the idea over and over. “Theoretically, I believe it is possible.”
The Khundian scrolled up and down, looking for any sign of a sender. When he found nothing, he moved to where the three humans could see the message itself.
“In the month of what the people of Earth called August, in the year of 2985, a great cataclysm will bring about the complete destruction of the planet. While they will have time to save many, many more will not survive...unless the benevolent Khundians intervene.”
President Desai brought his hand up to cover his mouth. After a moment, he removed it and spoke. “That is less than a month away.”
“There is no possible way to complete the evacuation by then,” Zall said.
Of the three humans, only Leland kept things in perspective. “Gentlemen,” he said to his companions. “Look on the bright side. Thanks to this mysterious request, and the appearance of the Khundians and the Tyrrazians, the people—all of the people—of Earth now have a chance.” He looked at Mojai Desai. “I believe you need to call an emergency meeting of the council, immediately. Now that we know roughly how much time we have left, we need to move up our already short timeline.”
Chief Zall Morgan quickly bid the group farewell, pausing just long enough express his gratitude to their rescuers. Before he was out of earshot, he was already on his comm contacting his people, letting them know of what had just occurred. By the time he reached the Earth Emergency Services office, his top people had begun to gather.
After Zall had left, President Desai, accompanied by Ambassador Ghadrak, left for the Earthgov building. Leland was left standing with the four Tyrrazians. He approached the group and smiled.
“So, would you care to join me aboard the Watchtower?” he asked. “We might as well begin coordinating our efforts and setting up our communications.”
One of the four stepped forward. Like the others of his race, his skin was red and stretched tight over a muscular frame; unlike the others, however, he was missing his right arm. In its place was a prosthetic replacement made up of an array of scanners and sensors, all designed specifically to aid in diagnosing and assisting the sick and injured. He nodded to the human. “I will join you while my brothers return to our worldship and begin making preparations to move closer to your planet.”
“How are you known?” Leland asked.
“I am called Tyr.”
Part Nine
The Watchtower—
Leland and Tyr arrived to find the Martian speaking to a bald, middle-aged gentleman in a short white jacket and matching slacks. Tyr’s eyes widened at the sight of J’onn, having never seen one of his fabled race before. The Martian saw Leland and his guest and motioned for them to join the conversation. After introductions were made, Leland addressed the man in white.
“So, Dr. Morlo. I trust you are here with news of the Chemoid Program,” he said.
“I am,” the doctor replied. “The first of them has emerged from the development pods and has been cleared to begin assisting on the evac-ship.”
Leland nodded. “If I remember correctly, you were beginning with twelve to see the results before full production was initiated. How are the remaining eleven progressing?”
“Based on the information we have gleamed from the tests performed on Gorn, we have been able to determine they are all exceeding expectations and the last of them should be emerging in three days.” Dr. Morlo was pleased to provide his positive news.
“That’s fantastic,” Leland said. What he said next caught the scientist off guard. “Unfortunately, we will no longer be continuing the program.”
The news caught even J’onn by surprise. Before either of them could speak, Leland continued.
“We no longer have the time to see the end results. According to what we believe is credible information, Earth has less than a month before it ceases to exist.”
“That explains the arrival of the Tyrrazian Rescue World,” the Martian replied.
Tyr spoke. “We know you have your evac-ships, but you won’t have enough of them operational before the end comes. We have come to help evacuated everyone, including as many of the other species who call this world home. Of course, we will begin with humanity before we begin collecting the rest.”
Dr. Morlo seemed crestfallen, though whether it was because of Earth’s shortened time or the termination of his project, no one was certain.
The Tyrrazian looked at Dr. Morlo. “What are these Chemoids you are creating?”
The man in white perked up. “ My Chemoids are synthetic lifeforms I am, or, rather, was developing to act as support crew on the evac-ships. They require minimal sustenance, no oxygen, and no need to sleep. We were going to use them to take care of the menial tasks so the evacuees would have one less thing to worry about.”
Tyr nodded. “Wouldn’t the evacuees prefer to have something to do aboard the ships to help keep their minds off of their loss?”
Dr. Morlo smiled. “We considered that, and while there will be humans acting as supervisors, we decided most of them would prefer not to be spend the entire trip working in waste management or something equally disgusting.”
Tyr thought for a minute. “Could they be trained for something more than just menial labor?”
“I believe so,” Dr. Morlo replied. “Why?”
“A Tyrrazian Rescue World ship could always use assistance with the evacuation of dying worlds.”
Dr. Morlo considered the possibilities. “I believe they could be programmed, and then further trained if the need arose, to do something like that. Unfortunately, as you just heard, the Chemoid Program will proceed no further than the original twelve already in development.”
Tyr turned to Leland. “I believe you are one of those in authority, so I will put the question to you. Would it be possible to move the good doctor and his equipment to our world ship? In addition to aiding in rescue, these chemoids could also be useful when survivors are transplanted on other worlds.”
“I believe that is a wonderful idea,” Leland said. “But, there is one condition.”
“And that would be?” Tyr asked.
“Wherever our citizens end up, we have enough chemoids to help us begin again.”
Tyr extended his hand. “I believe that is an acceptable request.”
Part Ten
Metropolis, Earth—
Ral Benem was not a native of Earth, yet something had drawn him here, even after the the planet had instated a ban on new offworlders who might have intended to make the journey. How his tiny craft had made it past all of the Earth’s security measures was beyond him, but now that he was here he had to figure out why.
He gathered the few belongings he had brought with him, then turned and left his craft without a backward glance. That same something that had drawn him here made him feel it would no longer be needed. He could only hope he hadn’t been lead to his death by an overactive imagination.
The Watchtower—
“Hey, J’onzzy,” a familiar voice heard only by the Martian said. “He’s here, just like ya said.”
J’onn let his mind drift outward until he sensed the young man. Over the centuries, his already-impressive telepathy had grown to rival some of the strongest minds on Titan.
“Ya want me ta do it now?” the voice asked. “I can meet up with him in no time.”
The Martian kept his thoughts to himself for a moment. “Are you certain you want to go through with this?” he asked. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be with…”
“Don’t say that name,” the voice warned. “I’ve done good avoiding her for the past few centuries; let’s not spoil that now.”
“Very well,” J’onn replied. “You realize this could be your final adventure. We have no guarantee you will survive leaving Earth.”
There was no sadness when the voice responded. “But, if I do…”
“Then, do what needs to be done,” J’onn said. The young man might not survive both of you, so you need to get him to the Watchtower as soon as possible. I will make sure you have no trouble gaining access, and we will have a vessel prepared.”
“On my way,” the voice said. “See you soon, J’onzzy.”
“Good luck, Boston.”
Metropolis—
Ral felt like a tourist rather than someone who might be on a mission. Again, he began to doubt his reason for coming to a doomed planet. “Perhaps I should just turn myself in,” he muttered to no one. “At least then I would have a better chance of surviving.”
“Trust me, pal,” a voice that only the wind was privy to responded. “You are definitely gonna survive.”
Had the young man from Mardru been able to see past the veil separating the living from the dead, he might have noticed the ghostly figure of a man dressed entirely in red with a designer white “D” on his chest. What had once been a solid white mask was now a true representation of his face, and that face was wearing a grin.
Ral managed to take two more steps before he felt like he was falling into a dream. As Boston’s ghostly form entered into his body, it seemed as though he was being gently ushered into a room apart from himself. For a fleeting moment, he saw the being that was taking possession of his body.
“Don’t mind me,” Boston said. “I’m just here to get you where you are going.”
Ral didn’t know what to say, so he began to scream. Had anyone seen the young man at that moment, all they would have seen was the stranger standing and staring off into space; were they able to hear his thoughts, however, they would have doubted their own sanity.
“Whoa, kid. Tone it down,” Boston told him. “We have work to do, and very little time to do it what with the world about to explode and everything.”
“Are...are you the voice that drew me here?” Ral asked.
“Nah,” Boston said. “I’m not sure who called ya here, but you’ll meet the guy who sent me a little later..”
Ral started to ask another question, but the ghost cut him off. “We really don’t have time for this. Nighty night.”
The Mardruian was suddenly asleep in his own mind. Boston put a smile on the young man’s face as he did a cartwheel. This did catch the attention of a passerby on his way to prepare for the end. “Don’t mind me,” Boston shouted with Ral’s voice. “I finally decided to quit talking and do something.”
An hour later, after making Ral’s body do things he would have never thought possible, Boston arrived at Catskill Park, one of the few green places left in the city. Most of the protected wildlife in the park had already been evacuated to holding areas where they would soon be loaded onto the evac-ships. Seeing no one around, not that it would have stopped him anyway, Boston put Ral’s hands up to his mouth in the form of a cone and yelled.
“Come out, come out, wherever your are.” With that done, he walked over to a park bench and sat down. He managed to remain seated for all of two minutes before the joy of being in a real body had him back on his feet. Like a master puppeteer, he had Ral’s body dancing and jumping and tumbling about like a madman. He only stopped when he heard a voice behind him.
“Why have you called me?”
Boston/Ral turned to see a vine sprouting from the ground, followed by another and another. As more and more vines grew, they began weaving themselves together into the shape of a large man-shaped figure. A big grin appeared on the possessed young man’s face.
“Alec?” Boston asked. “Are you in there?”
The figured looked at him through unblinking eyes for a moment. “I remember the one you call Alec. I shall call upon his memories which are stored in the Green.”
“Yeah, well, try to hurry,” Boston said. “You more than anybody knows we don’t have much time left.”
“Boston?” the figure asked. “Is it really you?”
“In the flesh...well...in somebody’s flesh,” Boston replied.
“Why have you called me forth? I was preparing for my death with the death this world.”
“How about you put that whole death talk on hold? Do you remember J’onn J’onzz?”
“I do,” the figure answered.
“Well, he sent me. He has a plan that will save you now so you can help save the people of Earth later,” Boston said.
“I don’t understand,” Alec confessed.
“See this kid,” Boston said, casting Ral’s arms out wide and making him turn like a man showing off his new suit. “Well, he’s got the gene.”
The figure moved closer. “Yes. I can sense something familiar...wait a minute. Is he...is that…?”
“Yep,” Boston grinned. “His gene is tied to the Green of his world, and that means you can hitch a ride off this train wreck before it’s too late.”
“And why does J’onn wish me to leave Earth?” Alec asked as small tendrils extended from his hand to Ral’s arm.
“When the folks of this world reach a habitable planet, you might help connect it to the Green and help it flourish.”
Alec thought for a second. “I will miss this world. Hopefully, I will still be able to call upon the Green of the new world and access my millennia of memories.”
Ral’s hand reached up and touched the figure’s shoulder. “Then, get in here so we can get back to the Watchtower.”
The figure’s vines began to encircle Ral and, once he was completely covered, slip through the pores of his skin. He was amazed at how well he melded with the young man.
“I’m going to wake him up so he knows it’s more than just me and him in here now. Oh, and just so you know,” Boston said, his voice filled with mischief, he will probably start screaming.”
Ral did not proved the ghostly acrobat wrong.
Part Eleven
The Watchtower—
J’onn and Zerinna were waiting when Ral arrived.
“J’onzzy,” the young man said, or, rather, Boston said using Ral’s voice. “We have arrived, just like I promised.”
J’onn let his mind reach out. “Alec,” he said telepathically.
“I am here,” Alec replied, also using Ral’s voice.
“Ya know, J’onny-boy. It’s a bit crowded in here. Wasn’t there supposed to be a new ride waitin’ here for me?”
“Hold on,” the Martian said as he touched his temple. “Your “ride” is on its way.”
“Well, kid. Alec. It’s been fun, but I gotta be goin’,” Boston said as he left Ral’s body. Only Zerinna saw him floating nearby.
“I trust you understand why you are here, Ral Benem,” J’onn said.
The young man cleared his throat. “Um, well. I think so. Alec, that’s what he told me to call him, has tried to explain how we are going to be “traveling” together for a while. I know he and I are connected to something called “The Green”, and while we are together, I will be able access it as well. He said he will teach me more about it as we are traveling.”
“Holy crap on a cracker!” Boston said, although only J’onn and Zerinna could hear him. “Is that a freakin’ Amazo android?”
“It is,” J’onn replied. “We very well couldn’t let you possess a human for the trip.”
“No way!” Boston continued. “Is that really Robotman with him? Cliff, is that you?”
“That’s not Cliff Steele,” J’onn said. “Cliff’s brain suffered an aneurysm, of sorts, several hundred years ago. In truth, I believe he had simply grown tired of losing everyone and initiated an overload that mimicked an aneurysm.”
“So, that’s just a plain old robot?” Boston asked.
“Could you please enter into the Amazo android?” J’onn asked. “It will make this conversation much easier.”
A second later, the 8 foot tall Amazo android began to move around like it was getting used to doing more than just walking. “This is pretty cool,” Boston admitted. “How am I doing this? Normally, I’ve only ever been able to possess living folks.”
“You can thank Zerinna for that,” J’onn told him.
“I’m not sure I like the colors, but I do love the mobility,” Boston said. “Thanks, pretty lady.”
“I am glad it suits your needs,” Robotman said.
“Thanks,” Boston replied. “Now, if you aren’t Cliff, then who are you? Obviously, there is still a human brain in that body.”
Robotman extended his hand. “My name is Kyle Giella. This body has been my home since late in the 25th century. I used to belong to an organization called the Knights of the Galaxy.”
“Yeah,” Boston said. “Never heard of them. Anyway, if you are are friend of the Martian’s, that’s good enough for me.”
“Would you like for me to show you around while you get used to your body?” Kyle asked.
“Sure,” Boston said. “And, maybe when we are done, you can help me do something about these colors,” he said pointing at his “skin”.
Once Boston and Kyle were gone, J’onn turned his attention back to Ral. “Even though you are here now, I want you to know you have a choice to make.”
“I do?” Ral asked.
“Yes, you do. I know you coming here was more our doing than it was yours, so, if you choose not to do this, we will understand,” J’onn said.
The young man stood silent for a moment. “Alec says he knew you many, many years ago, and that you were a noble being. I know that Alec might be needed when Earth’s refugees reach another world and I will gladly do what I can to help. I just have one question.”
“What would that be?”
“How did you manage to find and reach out to me to summon me here? I mean, you must have pretty powerful telepathy to do that.”
“I am not the one who called you to come to Earth,” J’onn said. “I was only told of your coming, of your connection to the Green, and how you could possibly be of aid in the, hopefully, near future.”
“Then, who called me here?” Ral asked.
Although his face did not show it, there was uncertainty in J’onn’s voice when he answered. “I honestly do not know.”
The Aegean Sea--
A beautiful, though aged, woman clothed in diaphanous veils of mist stood on the shore of a somehow forgotten island. Despite all of Earthgov’s technology, it had been several centuries since any mortal had set foot here. A great cloud covered the face of the sea in all directions, yet a ray of sun brightened the land beneath her feet.
“It is done,” the woman said. “I am ready to leave this place.”
“As the humans were so fond of saying, it’s about time.” The voice was deep and seemed to come from both everywhere and nowhere.
“Leaving for me is not as easy as it was for the rest of you,” the woman said. “My very being has been tied to this world, and now I am about to lose a part of myself.”
“I take it you found someone,” the male voice said.
“I had to reach out very far to find someone who could carry the Green inside, but he came, just as I hoped.”
The air in front of her began to twist and warp until a portal began to open up. Within the portal stood two men, one a thick-set man exuding great power and the other, a slender man holding a staff topped by a winged serpent.
“Well. What are you waiting on?” the big man asked.
“Yeah, Gaea,” the other man added. “The others are waiting.”
Gaea, known to worshipers throughout the years by many names, including Mother Nature, stepped through the portal. The moment her feet left the island, the Earth shuddered.
Part Twelve
Leland looked at the young man standing beside J’onn, a look of amusement on his face. “Could you please just go ahead and tell me; do you have any other additions to this team I should know about?”
The Martian sensed no malice or anger emanating from his friend, simply curiosity. “There was another I have been hoping to find, but I fear time is running out. The Clubhouse is set to launch in two days.”
“What makes this one important?” Leland asked.
“She can access people’s emotions,” J’onn said. “She can sense how they are feeling, and, possibly, even affect their emotions.”
Ral stepped forward. “Pardon me, but Alec wants to know if she feeds off of other people’s emotions?”
“Alec?” Leland asked.
“I will explain later,” J’onn told him. He looked back at Ral. “If she does…”
“...Then, that poor child must be in torment given the emotional state of the people of Earth right now,” Leland said, completing J’onn’s thought. “I will do what I can to make sure she’s found...for her sake, if nothing else.” He thought for a second. “Do you know her name?”
The Martian shook his head. “All I have been able to find out is that she is called “Psyche”.”
“Psyche,” Leland repeated. “If you will excuse me.”
“Of course,” J’onn replied. Turning to Ral, he said, “I will introduce you the team leader, Kirt Niedrigh. He will get bring you up to date.”
* * * * *
Mega-California—
Antonio Stefanacci was in the process of cataloging and packing the various artifacts of the Museum of Mystic Arts when a young red-haired man approached him.
“I guess the doors were unintentionally left unlocked,” Antonio said. “Given the upcoming cataclysm, we are, obviously, closed. Please, however, feel free to stop by the gift shop on the way out and take what you want. I see no reason for everything to be destroyed.”
“Thank you,” the young man said, “but I am here to see you.”
Antonio looked at his visitor. “Do you mind if I continue to work while we talk? I still have several items to pack before they are collected.”
“Not at all,” the young man said. “My name is Roon Dvron, and I am looking for a girl.”
Antonio glanced at the young man and smiled. “I think you have come to the wrong place.”
“Not at all,” Roon replied. “You are Antonio Stefanacci, curator of the Museum of Mystic Arts, are you not?”
“Obviously.”
“You are a member of the Circle of Light, as well,” Roon continued.
The older man dropped a pendant that resembled a closed eye surrounded by a dozen very small globes. “How…?”
Roon reached down and picked up the pendant. “You should be more careful with these artifacts.”
Antonio took it from Roon. “This thing? Some charlatan dropped this off one day claiming it was an item of power called the Eye of Agamomo, or something like that; I’ve never detected anything mystic about it.”
Roon shrugged. “I think your nervousness confirmed your identity.”
“So, what do you want with me?” Antonio asked. “Who is this girl you are searching for?”
“She is called Psyche,” Roon told him. “Rumor has it she was once a prisoner of the Cult of Azarath, until she was rescued by the Circle of Light. With everything going on, she is probably going out of her mind with the flood of emotions. The people who sent me to find her want to help her.”
Antonio looked at the young man. “Why would they want to help her?”
“Because,” Roon replied, “they need her help.”
“How can they help her?” the older man asked, still somewhat skeptical.
“If I can find her, she gets to move to the front of the line off this soon-to-be dead world.”
Antonio thought about it for a moment. Although he hadn’t been present at her rescue, he had been a key part of keeping her safe. “All right,” he said. “I’ll take you to her.”
The trip to where the young woman was was shorter than the young man had expected. Antonio led him down several flights of stairs to a sub-basement beneath the museum. At the bottom, the pair them proceeded down a long corridor to an iron door. The older man waved his hand and muttered a phrase in a language Roon had never heard before. The door swung inward and the young man caught sight of the one he had come seeking. Like the fabled Sleeping Beauty of ancient legends, an attractive young woman with platinum blonde hair lay upon a simple cot; the slow rise and fall of her chest let Roon know she was in a deep sleep.
“We have been keeping her sedated to prevent her from being overwhelmed by the high emotions running rampant right now,” Antonio said. “Give me a moment and I will wake her up.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Roon said. “Azarath doesn’t care if she is awake or asleep; we just want her back.”
Antonio knew he only had seconds left to live, yet he knew he couldn’t let the cult recapture the girl again. “The world is coming to an end,” he said, trying to buy enough time to activate one of the few charms he had secreted about his body. “Why not let the poor girl live in peace until that time comes?”
“Azarath has plans for her,” Roon said, pulling a small blaster from his pocket. “Unfortunately, there are no plans for you.”
Antonio knew he was too late to do anything.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” Roon continued. “Since you were so nice to bring me directly to her, I’ll give you a choice. I can kill you now, or I can chain you up down here and let you await the end of the world all alone.”
“Or,” said a new voice, “you can choose option number three.”
Antonio heard something heavy hit the ground. He turned to see who the newcomer was, not knowing if he would survive the next few seconds. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the red-headed young man face down on the floor, several sharp objects sticking from his back. Standing in the doorway was a young man in a very familiar body sleeve; he had seen it on the holo-vids as the uniform being worn by the group of young people who had been chosen to leave Earth ahead of the evac-ships.
“I hope you are okay, Mr. Stefanacci,” the young man said.
Antonio was surprised to see the young man before him, his rescuer, was covered in what appeared to be quills. He looked back at the body of Roon and realized it was these quills that were sticking out of his back.
“My name’s Pete,” the young man said, extending a hand to assist the older man to his feet. He smiled. “My friends call me ‘Porcupine’.”
Part Thirteen
Zerinna stepped through a portal she had opened to the museum; Antonio didn’t ask how she had managed to bypass the many wards he had in place.
“You’re the new girl, Zerinna, right?” Pete asked. “You got here fast.”
Zerinna smiled at her teammate. “Mr. McCauley said time was of the essence.”
At the mention of Leland McCauley’s name, Antonio knew he had been right in trusting the young man. “Shall I wake the girl?” he asked. “Or would you rather wait until you have her back to...uh...wherever you are taking her? I don’t want the world’s emotions to overwhelm her.”
“You must have been busy with your work,” Zerinna said. “A Tyrrazian Rescue World has appeared and is offering to help with evacuation. Hope is now the primary emotion on Earth.”
Antonio nodded. “Then, she should be fine.”
Within moments, the young woman’s eyes fluttered open and she tried to sit up. Her panic became palpable when she discovered she could not. Antonio stepped to where she could see him. “Give it a minute,” he assured her. “You were kept immobile so you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself.”
Sensing only goodwill from the man, the young woman tried to relax. True to his word, she felt control of her body slowly returning.
“What happened?” the young woman asked when she was finally able to sit up.
“You were a prisoner of the cult of Azarath,” Zerinna said, stepping forward, “but Mr. Stefanacci and his…” She looked at Antonio. “...Friends managed to find and rescue you.”
The young woman looked first at the girl, and, then, at the boy. “Who are you?”
“We are part of the Wanderers,” Pete offered.
“They are part of the group of young people who are leaving Earth in hopes of finding us a new world to colonize,” Antonio told her. “And they want you to join them.”
“I am Psych,” the young woman said, and I would be glad to join you.”
* * * * *
Zerinna was the last to step through her portal onto the deck of the Watchtower; Leland, J’onn, and Kirt were already there. She knew the Martian was already filling Psych in telepathically, so she turned to the two men.
“Pete got there just in time,” she said.
Pete smiled. “You know, it’s okay to call me ‘Porcupine’,” he told her.
“What happened?” Leland asked. “Was there trouble?”
“One of the cultist beat me there, but not by much,” Pete reported. “I managed to follow them to where the girl was.”
“And what of the cultist?” Kirt asked.
Pete was suddenly serious. “He won’t bother her anymore. Hopefully, his fellow cultists will get the message.”
“Yes. Well,” Leland said. He looked at Zerinna. “It looks like you brought more back than just the girl.”
Zerinna held up a bright yellow, high-collared cloak. “It was a gift from the curator of the museum.”
The yellow caught J’onn’s attention. “The Cloak of Destiny,” he said, his voice low and respectful. “I would have thought Nabu reclaimed it when Kent died.”
“You know of this?” Leland asked.
“It belonged to a hero from just before my time named Dr. Fate,” J’onn said. “Why would the man just hand this over to you?” he asked Zerinna.
“He said it was for helping Psych and saving his life,” the young woman replied.
Pete looked at Psych, then at Kirt. “Do you want me to show her around the Clubhouse?”
“Perhaps it would be better if Zerinna did that?” Kirt said. “I need you to make sure everyone’s gear is properly stowed.”
Pete smiled. “I will see to it.”
As he turned to make his way back to the Clubhouse, Psych reached out and touched him gently on the arm. He stopped and looked at her.
“Thank you,” she said.
Pete grinned and patted her hand. “You’re a Wanderer now, and we take care of each other.”
“I wasn’t at the time,” she told him.
Pete’s grin grew even bigger. “Ah, I knew you would join once you got a look at this smiling face.”
Psych smiled as the young man turned and walked away. She was still watching him go as Zerinna took her by the arm. “He is a very honest and happy person,” she said. “He regrets what he had to do back at the museum, but he believes it was what needed to be done and is at peace within himself.”
J’onn and the others heard Zerinna mutter a phrase they knew was one of he spells and, suddenly, the two women were no longer there. Leland smiled at the Martian.
“Well. I can see why you wanted this girl on our crew,” he said.
Kirt nodded. “Both of them, actually.”
Part Fourteen
One day until launch—
Psych had met most of her teammates on this most important of missions—and gotten a pretty good idea of what they were truly like—and was now settling in to her own little cabin aboard the Clubhouse. She had seen inside of a few of the other cabins and marveled at how colorful they were, decorated with items, memories, really, from their past; in contrast, her new home was quite sterile looking. She had very little memory of her life before being taken prisoner, and what memories she did have were spotty, at best. She felt tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes, but before they could fall, there was a soft knock upon her door. She wiped her eyes and answered.
“Enter.”
The door slid open at her command and two young women stepped inside. The two girls could not have been more different. One was tall and slender with exceptionally long red hair, while the other was a bit shorter with pale yellow skin and what appeared to be black make-up around her eyes and running down her cheeks.
“See,” said the first girl. “I told you she wouldn’t have anything but an old, dingy cabin.”
“Sussa,” the other girl said. “You don’t have to sound so rude about it.”
Psych smiled. “She didn’t mean anything by it.” She glanced around again. “And, she’s right. It is rather dingy.”
“See,” the one called Sussa said.
“You are Sussa Paka,” Psych said to the more forward of the two girls. “And your name is Berta, Berta Haris. Welcome to my, uh, cabin. What can I do for you?”
Sussa’s long hair began to move, seemingly on its own, until it snaked around her waist and extended toward Psych; it was wrapped around a small vase. From the voluminous sleeves of her gray cloak, Berta pulled a small bouquet of flowers.
“We thought you might like a little color in here,” Sussa said. “It needs it.”
Psych felt the tears forming in the corners of her eyes again, but, this time, the usual accompanying sorrow was missing. Instead, the was feeling something she hadn’t felt in her self in a long time, happiness. “Thank you both, so much.” She wasn’t sure if that was enough for what she was feeling.
Sussa threw her arms around the newest Wanderer and pulled her close. “Come on, Berta, join in. Let’s make it a group hug.”
Reluctantly, Berta joined in.
“Okay,” Sussa said after a few seconds, “We have to get back to work. Do you know what your job is, Psych? Or, have they assigned you anything yet, seeing as how you are so new?”
“I’m not sure,” Psych replied. “I’m sure I’ll find out soon. I am supposed to meet with the captain in an hour.”
Sussa gave her another quick hug. “Let us know how it goes.” She grabbed Berta by the arm and led her from the room.
As they rushed down the corridor, Psych could hear Sussa’s voice yelling to tell her goodbye. With nearly a half an hour before her meeting with Kirt, she closed her door and looked at the vase. She moved it from one spot to another trying to find the perfect place; she finally placed the flowers on the little stand beside her bed. Happy that her cabin was now a little less dingy, she decided to seek out the leader of the Wanderers.
* * * * *
Kirt and Zerinna were on their way to the bridge when they saw Psych coming down the corridor toward them. They stopped long enough for her to join them.
“Are you getting settled in?” Kirt asked. “How is your cabin?”
Psych smiled. “The cabin is a little less dingy now, thanks to Berta and Sussa,” she replied. “It is easy to settle in when you don’t have any possessions to worry about.”
“Yeah,” Kirt said with a smile. “I see your point.”
“I will meet with you later to make certain you have a proper uniform before launch tomorrow,” Zerinna added.
“How are you doing?” Kirt asked. “I know with all of the excitement building, everyone’s emotions are probably overwhelming you.”
“I am managing,” Psych replied. “Mr. Stefanacci gave me an item to help filter out the stronger emotions so I can cope a good bit better.” After a moment, she continued. “So, I was told you would tell me what job I would be doing on the ship.”
“What kind of training have you had?” Kirt asked.
As the newest member of the crew thought for a moment, Zerinna noticed someone pass by the opposite end of the corridor. “Hold on a second,” she said. “I’ll be right back. I have an idea.” She hurried away, only to return a few moments later with a young man in tow.
When Kirt saw who was with her, he knew what she had in mind. “I’m learning to trust J’onn’s judgment even more.” He looked at Psych. “If you haven’t met him yet, this is Val Armorr. He is the head of security. I think is is a wonderful idea, Zerinna.”
Val extended his hand and Psych accepted it. “So, Zerinna said you might be joining my team.”
Psych smiled. “Well, I mean, maybe. I guess.”
Kirt spoke. “Since you can affect emotions, you would be a great addition to security. You could help diffuse most situations where calmer heads are needed.”
The girl shrugged. “Well, I don’t know how much I could do besides that. I’m not much of a fighter, and I have zero knowledge of using a weapon.”
“Are you willing to learn?” Val asked.
Psych thought for a second. “I suppose so, if you think I could.”
“Trust me,” Val said. “If you are willing to learn, I can definitely teach you.”
“It’s settled, then,” Kirt said. “Psych, I know you have met most of the crew, but let me officially welcome you aboard the Clubhouse. I believe you will become a valuable asset to the Wanderers.”
Part Fifteen
Launch Day—
Aside from members of the Watchtower’s robot crew, most of who once belonged to the heroic Metal Men, the Clubhouse was empty; the entire crew was assembled aboard the Watchtower. The entire Earth council, along with many other government officials and important members of society, as well as a good number of the crew’s family members, were in attendance. The observation deck had been chosen for the Launch Day Ceremony. Chairs were set up for everyone and a platform had been assembled near the large viewports. The Watchtower had been rotated just enough so the Clubhouse dominated the scenery. A platform had been set up between the chairs and the viewports and a single podium stood front and center. As President Desai approached the podium, everyone began to take a seat.
“My fellow Earthians, esteemed guests, honored family members. I bid you welcome in the name of hope. We are gathered here today, not to say farewell, for farewell seems like such a final ending, but to say good journey, to the fearless crew of Terra’s Hope—excuse me, the Clubhouse. Over the last few weeks, since this group of fearless young explorers have begun to gather, I have realized that we were wrong to give their ship the name Terra’s Hope. In truth, Terra’s,--Earth’s--true hope is not the ship that will travel beyond the stars and into the unknown, but its crew. I could go on and on about how much I admire these young men and women, some of Earth’s best, brightest, and bravest, but I know they have a busy day ahead of them. So, without further adieu, allow me to introduce to you, as they call themselves, the Wanderers.”
Everyone in attendance stood and applauded as 35 young men and women entered and took their place on the platform behind President Desai. For the most part, everyone wore matching body sleeves, although there were certain alterations based on the owners’ abilities, where necessary. Several of them looked uncomfortable as the center of attention, while a few seemed to revel in it. After a moment, Desai raised his hands and brought things back under control.
“We are going to give you a few minutes to meet the crew before we send them on ahead on the journey we will all soon be making. Once they are return to the Clubhouse, we will remain here on the Watchtower until after they launch.” He turned to face the Wanderers, and, in a low voice, said, “You have thirty minutes until you return to the ship. Remember, as you mingle with our guests, they are sending with you all of their hopes and dreams. Beyond the gratitude of the planet, I want you to know how much I, personally, appreciate what you are about to do. Thank you.” He took the time to shake the hand of everyone of the Wanderers before sending them into the crowd.
As the group began to mingle with the audience, both Ral and Psych remained back, but only for a moment. Both Berta and Sussa approached Psych, inviting her to come and meet their families. Thinking he had been left alone because he wasn’t actually from Earth, Ral was surprised when a familiar voice called his name.
“Ral!”
He turned to see the android Boston had called Amazo, now wearing a red outfit with dark hair, waving at him. He looked up at Boston as he drew near.
“Whaddaya think?” Boston asked.
Ral smiled. “It his what you looked like before you, uh…”
“Yeah,” Boston replied. “Well, except for the pointy ears and, ya know, being 8 feet tall. Anyhoo, I hope ya aren’t mad at me for bringin’ ya into this mess.”
The Mardruian continued to smile. “Honestly, I feel like I am right where I belong. Thank you for finding me and bringing me here.”
“Hey, don’t mention it, kid.”
Ral thought for a second. “So, are you going with us?”
“Nah,” Boston told him. “J’onn has plans for me on the Watchtower. He says we will have our hands full keeping the rest of the solar system safe once the Earth goes kablooey.”
Ral stuck his hand out and Boston’s big hand wrapped around it gently. “I hope we meet again,” the young man said.
“Me, too, kid,” Boston said. “Me, too.”
Although a few crew members couldn’t wait to return to the Clubhouse, time passed too swiftly for most of those in attendance. President Desai returned to the podium and announced, with a mixture of sadness and excitement, the time had come for the crew to say their goodbyes.
The Wanderers lined up and, with Kirt in the lead, left the observation deck. Moments later, the dignitaries and family members gathered at the large viewports and watched as a shuttle docked with the launch platform. Although the platform was enclosed, and the Wanderers could not be seen leaving the shuttle, many of those on the Watchtower began to wave. Everyone knew within the hour the Clubhouse would disembark and begin its quest to find a new home.
Part Sixteen
The Clubhouse—
Since much of the ship’s launch sequence would be handled by computers, very few of the crew were actually needed. Kirt was in his seat, Danielle Foccart, the crew’s youngest member, was at a nearby computer station, Zerinna was seated near Kirt, and a young woman, with long, dark hair named Anjelika Dugensa was at the communication station. Val Armorr, as head of security, stood near the door. The remaining crew members were in the recreation area watching a vid screen of their impending lift off.
“This is all so surreal,” a young woman with green skin and long, greenish-blonde hair commented. “We are actually watching a live feed of the outside of the Clubhouse while being inside the Clubhouse.”
“I know what you mean, Tayla,” a young man, one of two who wore a metal mask over his face, replied. “Andrew and I were talking about it last night.”
“May I ask you a question?” Ral inquired of the young man beside him.
“Sure,” a slightly overweight young man replied. “But, please, call me Chuck.”
“Alright, Chuck. I am Ral. As you have obviously heard, I am not from Earth, so, I am curious what this countdown is they are talking about.”
Chuck smiled. “Apparently, back when mankind started leaving Earth to explore the stars, the final few seconds before the explorers left in their rockets and shuttles, there was a countdown of their time remaining on this planet. I guess someone decided to revive the tradition for this momentous occasion.”
Ral nodded and smiled. “Thank you for explaining it to me.”
Chuck patted him on the back. “No problem. If you have any other questions about how, or why, we do things, feel free to ask me.”
President Desai’s face appeared on the screen and everyone grew quiet. As expected, his speech was very similar to the one he told less than an hour past; the only difference now was the address was changed to include the entire world.
Back on the bridge, as President Desai reached the end of his speech, Anjelika opened communications with the Watchtower. “Are you ready, Kirt?” she asked.
Kirt took a deep breath and nodded. “Whenever the president gives the signal.”
“...The leader of the expedition, Captain Kirt Niedrigh. Captain Niedrigh, can you hear me?”
Anjelica touched a key and Kirt’s face filled every vid screen on the planet that was on.
“President Desai. I can hear you loud and clear,” Kirt replied.
A cheer could be heard coming from the recreation deck a few decks below.
“Captain Niedrigh,” President Desai began. “The countdown to your departure has commenced and we are down to the final minutes. Are you ready?”
Kirt smiled. “We are ready to get underway. The crew is anxious to find a new home for everyone.”
“Before we say goodbye for a final time on this planet,” Desai asked, “do you have anything you wish to say?”
Kirt thought for a second. “First, and I speak for all of the Wanderers, we want to send our heartfelt thanks to the Khundians and the Tyrrazians for coming to the Earth’s aid. We leave here with lighter shoulders knowing our families, our friends, and our fellow Earthians have a greater chance of survival because of their intervention. Next, we wish to thank Mr. McCauley and those he had assembled who have gone to great lengths to help assure the survival of the people of Earth. In addition, we would like to thank J’onn J’onnz, or, as we affectionately call him, the Martian. Had he not appeared when he did and convinced the Earthgov officials of the coming destruction, a great number of lives would have surely been lost. And, finally, I, personally, would like to thank my fellow crew members who have volunteered for this mission. May we find the success we seek and reunite with our friends and loved ones before too much time passes.” He smiled and spoke to President Desai. “Mr. President. We await your countdown.”
“Ten.”
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
“Seven.”
“Six.”
Everyone in attendance joined with President Desai. “Five.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
Unlike the violent shutters of the old Earth rockets as they fought against the Earth’s gravity to achieve orbit, the Clubhouse slipped easily from its docking area with little more than a whisper. Cheers erupted all across the planet as the group calling themselves the Wanderers left the dying planet behind to begin their search for a new home.
(Legion of Tyranny)
Part One
Earth 2983--
“Have you forgotten Krypton?” the scientist asked, his voice growing loud enough to reveal his aggravation,
“A myth,” someone replied.
The scientist shot the speaker an angry look.
“The legend of Krypton is just a tale told to unruly children to convince them of the
importance of heeding their parents.”
The scientist turned to the new speaker. “With as much respect as you have earned from me, Mr. President,” he said, his voice cold and even, “you are a fool.”
The Earthgov president leaped to his feet. “Watch your tone.”
A second scientist stepped forward and pulled his companion back. “Forgive Vidar, your excellency,” he said. “His frustration comes from concern. Concern for us, for you,” he said, indicating the council, “and for all of Earth's citizens.”
Vidar pulled away. “Bah,” he said. “My frustration comes from trying to convince imbeciles of their deadly folly. Surely even the scientists of Krypton's House of El would have shared my frustrations. To think parents would resort to using the destruction of an entire planet as a way to coerce their children into behaving is asinine. Come, Regulus. Let us leave these fools. We have much work ahead of us before the end comes.”
“No matter how much you desire it,” Dr. Regulus told his colleague once they were out of the council chambers, “you cannot simply will them to believe our theories. They are not scientists; they demand physical proof. Charts and graphs mean nothing to them.”
Vidar wiped the thin layer of perspiration from the top of his bald heard then rubbed his hand on his white tunic. “When the physical evidence is before them, it will be too late.”
Once they were beyond the confines of the Earthgov building, a personal transport vehicle hovered nearby. As they approached, a door opened and the two men stepped inside and sat down.
“Your expressions speak volumes.” The speaker had the build of a former athlete. His face was framed by shoulder-length reddish-blond hair and a close-cropped beard and mustache.
“You don't know the half of it, Leland,” Dr. Regulus said. “The council still wouldn't listen to the facts.”
“Did you expect anything less, Zaxton?” Leland asked. “Then, we have no choice but to proceed without their blessings.”
“How far have we progressed?” Dr. Regulus asked.
“Several of the colony planets in the system have offered to take some of the expected refugees until a new homeworld can be found, but not enough to save the majority. We have one Seeker-class ship in space dock on the dark side of the moon: it has remained hidden from Earthgov's sensors until we heard their decision. We also have two dozen Evac-class ships in various stages of completion at my factories on Neptune. We’ve even gone so far as to contact other dimensions, namely the one called Skartaris. Unfortunately, although understandable, the Morgana, as she calls herself, said her world could not possibly take refugees. She said she would be expending most of her energy preventing the destruction of Skartaris and wouldn’t have time to keep our people safe.”
“Why would she have to keep our people safe?” Dr. Regulus asked.
“From my research,” Leland said, “Skartaris is a world more akin to medieval Earth than the one we know. And, that includes creatures we believed only existed in ancient history and legend.”
“Do we have any ideas of a target planet?” Vidar asked, steering the conversation back to the scientific realm and away from the fantasy world of Skartaris.
“I have a list of the inhabited and inhabitable in what the fabled Guardians designated sectors 2813 and 2814. My people are also looking at possible candidate worlds for terraforming, if it comes to that.”
“What about recruitment?” Dr. Regulus asked.
“Recruitment is taking a little longer than expected. We need to be certain we have the right group of people for the mission,” Leland confessed as his vehicle decelerated and came to a stop in his private port at McCauley Plaza.
Leland McCauley's personal secretary was waiting at the open doors of his private lift when the trio approached. The look on her face let the men know there was news.
The group rode the lift in silence. Leland glanced at the faces of his companions as they neared his penthouse suite. Although her eyes danced with excitement, his personal secretary waited patiently to reveal what she knew. Dr. Regulus' eyes revealed that he, too, was excited to hear what she had to say. Vidar was still lost in his own anger at the ignorance of the Earthgov officials.
When the lift stopped and the group entered the hallway just outside McCauley's office, the young woman excused herself and approached a gentleman seated nearby. As she drew near, the man looked up at her, then his eyes moved past her and fell on Leland McCauley. To his credit, he calmly climbed to his feet and took slow, measured, steps.
“What can we do for you, Mister...?” Leland asked, giving the man an opportunity to introduce himself.
“I know what is going to happen,” he said, “and I want to offer my help.”
“We will take all the help we can get,” Leland assured him. “We would, however, like to know exactly who is offering to help.”
“Oh, forgive me,” the man apologized as he extended his hand. “My name is Markx Grimbor,” he said, “and I am a locksmith.”
Part Two
Earth 2984--
“Did you hear?” Markx said as he approached Leland’s secretary. “More importantly, does he know?”
“Mr. McCauley is expecting you,” the young woman said.
The locksmith looked at her for a moment before realizing she had answered his question. As he stepped forward, Leland’s door slid open. He paused before entering and looked back at the secretary.
“It will be fine.” She mouthed the words.
Markx tried to smile, but he knew his appearance was more of that of a man in pain. He gave up, mouthed the words “Thank you”, and passed through the open door.
For the better part of a year, Markx Grimbor had worked closely with Leland McCauley in trying to save the planet, or, at least, find a way to save as many people as possible. He knew a few of the man’s associates, but the man in the office now was a stranger to him.
“They have declared me a criminal,” Markx said. “All I did was try to save their lives.”
“It will be alright,” Leland tried to assure him. “You can’t blame them, though. Not really. What would you do in their position? You wake up one morning to find your homeworld surrounded by massive chains; you are going to feel powerless and start trying to blame someone.”
“Haven’t you explained that the chains are a stopgap at best?” Markx asked. “They are helping to hold the planet together long enough for the people to be evacuated.”
Leland sighed. “We are still trying to convince them the threat of earth’s destruction is real.”
“Until then, what am I to do?” Markx asked. “I can’t live my life and try to maintain the chains’ integrity from a cell.”
Leland and his guest stood up. “We understand that, which is why I had already planned for such a possibility.”
Markx looked at the two men. “I don’t understand. What do you plan to do?”
Leland looked at his guest, then smiled. “It is simple, really. We are going to turn you in.”
The locksmith was stunned. “Turn...turn...me in?”
“As a matter of fact, the authorities should be here shortly,” Leland told him.
Markx turned and started to run toward the door, but he felt something wrap around his waist, keeping him from going anywhere. He struggled for several seconds, before looking to see what held him. He was stunned when he saw a tentacle preventing him from leaving. He looked back at the two men.
Leland’s guest had one arm extended, but it had ceased to be an arm at the elbow, instead, becoming the very thing that held him in place.
“What…?” the locksmith started to ask, a look of horror on his face.
Leland approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy. I told you we had planned for this.”
Markx shoulders sagged. Betrayed. He couldn’t believe Leland had betrayed him.
Leland continued to smile as he glanced at his guest. “You can let him go.”
In an instant, the tentacle was gone and the man’s arm was normal again.
“Markx,” Leland said, “I would like you to meet Toog Lintens. Toog is a Durlan.”
The locksmith didn’t know what to say.
Toog stepped forward and extended his hand as his human form began to change into that of an orange humanoid with antennas. “I apologize for the deception,” he said.
Markx reluctantly shook the Durlan’s hand. “I still don’t understand.”
The secretary’s voice could be heard over a small speaker on Leland’s desk “The authorities have entered the building.”
“We must hurry,” Leland said.
Toog circled Markx a few times, then stopped in front of him. The locksmith’s eyes grew wide when he found himself staring into his own face.
“I’m going to need you to step into my restroom,” Leland said.
It was finally starting to dawn on Markx what Leland had planned. “I’m sorry you are mixed up in this.”
Toog, or rather, the new Markx smiled. “They will forget about you soon enough and this will all be over. In the meantime, I will be able to come and go as I please, thanks to my abilities. They will never suspect it isn’t really you they are holding.”
Markx grabbed the Durlan’s hand again and shook it. “Thank you for this.”
“Just make sure to keep your world safe until your government decides to act.”
“Mr. McCauley,” the secretary’s voice said. “The authorities are here.”
Leland motioned for Markx to hurry. “Please tell them I am bringing Mr. Grimbor out now.”
Part Three
Earth 2984--
Leland let his finger push and pull files and images back and forth across the screen of his compu-pad. Faces and names flashed before his eyes. “How many?” he asked, looking up at the young woman standing patient before his desk.
“Twenty-four, so far,” she replied.
“What makes this group so special, Dr. Teylor?”
Dr. Reise Teylor cleared her throat and began to answer the one question she was sure he would ask. “As you know,” she began, “aside from the rare mutation or implant, those of us on Earth have no special abilities. For the past year, I have been researching the legends of old, specifically the twentieth century, where hundreds of men and women had unique abilities that set them apart from their fellow man. Early on in my studies, I happened upon a phrase, “the meta-gene”. “
Leland looked up. “Meta-gene?”
Dr. Teylor smiled, proud of what she had discovered. “When certain stimuli were introduced to an earthling's life in moments of excessive stress, their bodies changed; they gained abilities.” Knowing her employer was the possessor of a limited amount of patience, she skipped over the majority of her discovery. “During the physical exams of the recruits, we detected an anomaly in some of the young men and women.”
She could see he was intrigued and his next question proved it. “This anomaly...the meta-gene?”
“Yes,” she said, and anticipating what he would ask next, she volunteered the answer. “So far, we have discovered several individuals who could possibly have the meta-gene.”
Leland looked, again, at the names and faces on his compu-pad, then, back up at the young woman. The smile he revealed was infectious and Dr. Teylor was soon smiling as well.
His smile quickly vanished, but hers remained. “Even knowing about this meta-gene, how do you purpose to activate it? Surely, we aren't expected to manufacture the various scenarios needed to trigger the change.”
“We don't have to,” she replied. “Knowing it now exists, we have identified nearly two dozen individuals who have already experienced the activation of their meta-gene. We have managed to recruit most of them and feel the others will join as soon as they are given the opportunity.”
As Leland scrolled through the remaining recruits, his eyes grew wide when they fell upon the final one. He looked up at Dr. Teylor and then back at the screen. “Is this...? Are you...?”
The woman nodded. “Yes, that is your niece, Celeste, and, yes, it appears she has an active meta-gene.”
Part Four
Dr. Regulus took a deep breath, then entered the room at the med-center. Two eyes—the only things visible beneath the bandages that covered the bed-bound figure—watched his every movement. Before Regulus could speak, a strong but slightly muffled voice addressed him.
“You made it,” the figure said.
Dr. Regulus smiled. “I told you I wouldn't miss your big day.” He paused a moment before continuing. “So, Dirk, how are you feeling?”
“Anxious,” the young man replied, “but I figure that is to be expected.”
The older man nodded.
“I'm also feeling a little warm, but that might be the bandages.” Dirk's eyes glanced at the doorway. “I wish they would hurry and get these things off of me.”
“I want you to know,” Regulus began, but Dirk raised a hand.
“We've talked about this before, Zax” Dirk said. “I'm the one who was careless. I shouldn't have walked in without letting you know I was there. Your quick thinking is the reason I am still alive.”
Regulus knew Dirk Morgna was telling the truth, but it didn't ease his conscience. Even though he had managed to save the young man, his assistant, Zarl Hendricks wasn't as lucky. Before he had the chance to fall too far into despair, however, Dirk's nurse, an attractive Sklarian, entered.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Regulus,” she said, before addressing her patient. “Dirk said you wouldn't miss his big day.” She turned to her patient. “And speaking of big days, are you ready to get rid of these bandages?”
“More than ready,” Dirk admitted.
The nurse smiled. “Dr. Nar should be...ah, here he comes now.”
Dr. Nar, an Ungaran, entered and nodded to his patient.”How are you feeling?”
“To be honest, Doc,” Dirk began, “I feel like I'm burning up.”
The doctor raised the med-scanner that hung from a strap around his neck and let its beam sweep over the young man. Looking at the readings, he reset the device and repeated the sweep. “Odd,” he said, softly.
“What's wrong?” Regulus asked.
Nar reset the device again, then removed it from around his neck and handed it to Regulus. With his free hand, he touched Dirk on the forehead with the palm of his hand.
Dr. Regulus waited until he was clear, then performed the scan himself. After seeing the results, he, too, felt the urge to touch the young man's forehead. “Fascinating.” A thought crossed his mind. “Aside from burning up, how do you feel?”
“Pretty good, actually,” Dirk replied, after a moment of thought.
“What are you thinking?” Dr. Nar asked Regulus.
Regulus handed the med-scanner back to Nar. “Can this be set to detect gene anomalies?”
The Ungaran made a few adjustments, then handed it back. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
Dr. Regulus performed the scan, read the results, then returned the device to Nar. He smiled as the physician read the results himself, looked at Dirk, then back at the results.
“I have never, in my time of dealing with Earthlings, seen anything like this,” Dr. Nar said. “What am I looking at?”
Dirk looked at nurse—who shrugged—then at the doctors, his expression one of worry. “What's wrong with me?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Dr. Regulus assured him. “It seems the accident has activated what was once called a “meta-gene”.”
Dirk held his hands up before his face. “Does that mean we can start removing these bandages?”
Dr. Nar smiled and held out his hand. “Nurse Drayl, “he said, “would you hand me the low-intensity laser?”
Seconds later, the bandages were being removed to reveal unblemished, pink skin.
* * * * *
“This is not how I hoped to be spending my first day without bandages,” Dirk told Regulus as they arrived at McCauley Plaza. “Nurse Drayl was going to stop by my place after work to give me a thorough post-bandage exam.”
“And I truly hate that you are going to miss it,” Regulus said, smiling at his companion, “but the future may just depend on what we discover about you over the next few hours.”
Dirk looked at the man, not sure if he was being serious or just having a laugh at his expense. He couldn't decide which.
As they entered the main building of the complex, a young woman stood with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Dr. Reise Teylor hid her excitement at actually meeting someone with an active meta-gene very well.
“And who might you be aside from the love of my night?” Dirk asked, taking her left hand and raising it to his lips.
“I'm the one who is going to put you through your paces and see what you are made of,” she replied, pulling her hand back.
Dirk smiled. “Sounds...promising.”
“I've waited my entire career for this,” Reise said, returning the smile.
Part Five
The Watchtower, 2985--
Leland McCauley stood on the observation deck of the satellite, looking out at the golden yellow and red rocket being loaded with supplies. The now-enlightened Earthgov had officially named the craft “Terra's Hope”, but the twenty-three young men and women who would be calling it home until a suitable new world was found for the people of Earth, simply referred to it as “The Clubhouse”. Waiting in the distance, he, occasionally caught a glimpse of the first three completed Evac-class ships, waiting for the bulk of the planet's population to begin boarding. He had been amazed at the spacecraft he had commissioned to save his people, regarding them as the pinnacle of scientific achievement—until the satellite appeared in geosynchronous orbit over the Earth's equator.
The satellite was far beyond anything he could have imagined, beginning with its stealth technology. If it had, as its sole occupant had claimed, remained undetected for nearly a thousand years, it was beyond anything he had ever seen. According to the Martian, the systems were a combination of Earthian, Thanagarian, Martian, Kryptonian, even Atlantean, as well as that from worlds he had never heard of, such as New Genesis and Apokolips. The satellite, a massive structure, had employed a staff of hundreds to take care of the mundane day-to-day maintenance. According to his companion on the observation deck, the staff had been made of a mixture of individuals who were either the best in their respective fields or troubled youth who just needed an opportunity to rise above their situations. At some point, as his teammates began to retire and pass away, he began replacing members of the staff with robots—many of who were once heroes in their own right.
“The Earth owes you debt we will never be able to repay,” Leland McCauley said to the green humanoid beside him. “Had you not made your presence known and convinced the Earthgov that what we've been saying is the truth, countless lives would have been lost.”
“Since losing my homeworld,” the being began, “I swore to protect the people of this world. H'ronmeer, why must I lose another one?”
Leland looked at his companion's reflection in the glassite. The Martian had chosen to make his presence known to the people of Earth in the form he had once worn during his days as a hero. His powerful body was only somewhat diminished; age—and the burdens of duty and sorrow—had stooped his shoulders and bent his posture, but not by much. He was still an imposing figure and the determination to protect burned bright in his crimson eyes.
“J'onn,” he said as he turned. “What will you do...after? You would be more than welcome to join us in search for a new home.”
The Martian stood silently watching the loading of the Clubhouse for a few moments more before turning to face Leland. “Thank you, but, no. Even though you have chosen to find a new, uninhabited, world to call home, there are still colonies on most of the planets in this solar system. We have decided to take the Watchtower out of Earth's orbit once the last evac-ship has left and use its capabilities to protect the entire system. With Earth gone, there are those who would like to take advantage her absence and enslave the others.”
“I can’t help but wonder if we shouldn’t have found a way to take the colonists from the other planets with us,” Leland said. “You know when the Earth is destroyed, it is going to send very large fragments of the planet in every direction. How do we know we aren’t dooming the rest of the solar system, or, at least, the planets closest to us, as well?”
The Martian placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Steps have been taken already to protect them from most of the damage. Thankfully, their governments heeded my warning in plenty of time. You need not worry about them and cause yourself to bear more burdens than necessary. Just trust me.”
Leland nodded. “I understand,” he said, “and I do trust you.”
J'onn chose to change the subject. “I spent some time observing the Wanderers this morning.”
“The Wanderers?” Leland asked.
The Martian allowed himself a brief smile. “It is what they have started calling themselves. One of the younger ones, Lyle Norg, said that is what they shall call themselves until they find the people of Earth a new home.”
Leland smiled. “Then may it not be a name they have to wear very long.”
Part Six
The Watchtower--
“I don't understand why we all can't just move to Mars or one of the other worlds we colonized in the past.”
“We've gone over this before, Danielle,” Jacques Foccart said to his young sister as he finished packing the last of their belongings. “Even if each planet took refugees, they are not equipped to handle everyone. After a while, the burden on their resources would become too great. Our population is the densest in the system. You must also remember the colonists have had centuries to adapt to their environments while we are not adequately equipped for long-term exposure. We need a world of our own, one suitable for us are we are now.”
“I guess I understand,” Danielle said.
“Good,” Jacques said. “Now, don’t you have some systems to check?” He knew to the casual observer it must sound odd asking a 10 year-old girl to do system checks, but her meta-gene made her the perfect candidate to take care of The Clubhouse’s computer. She was able to interface and communicate with any computer she came in contact with.
Jacques was both surprised and relieved to discover Danielle was a meta since it meant they would be able to stay together. The thoughts of leaving her behind with no one to care for her almost kept him from volunteering for the mission. Knowing she would be with him made the decision much easier. He was even a bit jealous of her ability. While she could communicate with any computer, all he could do was turn invisible...and that wasn’t even an ability unique to him. Another boy, Lyle Norg, also manifested the ability to turn invisible.
“I’ll go as soon as I'm done packing,” Danielle announced as she was closing the last case containing their personal belongings. “Jacques?”
The young man sealed his last case then turned to his sister. “Yes?”
“I miss Mama and Papa,” Danielle said, sounding very much the child she was. “It seems wrong leaving without them.”
Jacques put his arms around his sister. “They have been gone for a long time, Chère Sœur. Their spirits now travel with us wherever we go.”
“I know,” she replied. “It is just...”
Jacques kissed the top of her head. “I know.”
The moment of tenderness ended when a badge on the chest of their uniforms began to emit a series of beeps. Jacques touched the badge. “Oui?”
“Are you ready to go?” The voice belonged to a young woman. “I have Jedidiah with me to help load up your belongings.”
“Everything is ready, Marya,” Jacques replied. “Come on up.”
Moments later, the door to the siblings’ quarters slid open to reveal a young woman with braided, crimson hair and a very muscular young man with purple skin.
“Jed!” Danielle shouted as she ran to him.
Jedidiah opened his arms as the girl leaped toward him and wrapped her own arms around his neck. “Dani,” he said. “Did you get everything packed?”
“I did,” she assured him. “Only the necessities, just like they told us.”
Jed held her at arms length as though she weighed nothing. “Are you sure you just packed the necessities?” he asked in mock seriousness.
Danielle gave him a sheepish grin. “Well, to me they are the necessities.”
Jed set her down. “Okay. As long as they are a necessity to you, I’ll take them to your cabin on the Clubhouse.”
“And speaking of the Clubhouse...” Jacques said.
Danielle looked at her brother. “I know,” she said. “I’m going.” She looked back at Jed. “Bye, Jed,” she said, hugging him around the waist.
“What about me?” Marya asked.
The little girl put her arms around the young woman. “Bye, Marya.” She turned and bolted out the door; the trio could hear her greeting people all the way down the hall.
Jed began to collect the Foccart’s belongings.
“I know you are strong,” Jacques commented, “but, surely, you are not going to carry everything back to the Clubhouse at once?”
“We have a grav-cart in the hallway,” Jed said.
“Are you ready?” Marya asked.
Jacques sighed. “As much as I can be, I guess. What about the two of you?”
“I can’t wait,” Jed replied. “Already said my goodbyes and got my parents’ stuff aboard their Evac ship.”
Jacques looked at Marya. “What about you?”
Marya shrugged. “As soon as we are finished, I will be taking a shuttle to Chongqing to make certain my grandfather is ready to go.”
“How many more of us do you have to collect?”
“Three,” she said.
Jacques held his hand out. “Give me the list and I’ll finish collecting everyone’s belongings.”
Marya cocked her head slightly and looked at him. “Are you sure?”
“If you go now, you can catch the next shuttle,” he said. “It will allow you a little extra time to get your grandfather prepared for the evacuation.”
The girl handed him the compu-pad and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you so much.” She turned and hurried out the door.
Jed was smiling when he came to collect the rest of the siblings’ belongings.
“What?” Jacques asked.
“She actually seemed...happy you offered to take over for her,” the big man said. “Marya rarely seems happy about anything.”
“And yet the two of you have been almost inseparable since you got here,” Jacques replied. “Perhaps, I think, you two might have a mutual attraction for each other.”
Jed laughed. “Not hardly. We enjoy each other’s company is all. She tends to be more relaxed around me than she is normally.”
“Still…” Jacques began.
“Do you want to carry your stuff yourself?” Jed asked, grinning.
Jacques looked at the cases still remaining, then raised the compu-pad. “So, who is next on our list?”
Both men shared a laugh and continued to empty the Foccart’s quarters.
Once it was empty, they made on final walk-through to make sure nothing important was forgotten. Jed returned with something tucked under his arm.
“I am surprised she didn’t pack that,” Jacques said as they exited.
When he and Jed were in the hallway, the lights inside went out and the door slid shut. It was time to start the next chapter in their lives.
Part Seven
The Clubhouse—
Leland McCauley stood in front of the group of young men and women upon whom the hope of the human race rested. He had taken the time to get to know each and every one of them and now took the time to look each and every one of them in the face and make eye contact.
“The people of Earth owe you a tremendous debt,” he began. “Many of you stand before me today, having said goodbye to loved ones, prepared to venture beyond our farthest colony in search of a new home for those you leave behind. We have been in contact with other races, seeking possible information on uninhabited worlds that might support a planet of refugees; these worlds have been uploaded into the computers aboard “Terra’s Hope”, excuse me, “The Clubhouse”.”
A cheer from the young people made him smile.
“We know this journey is going to be long and arduous, but, we have no doubts of your success. The dangers you may face are unimaginable, but, with your unique abilities, we firmly believe you have the capability to overcome whatever seemingly insurmountable odds you might encounter.”
Another cheer.
“And, finally, we know that every great expedition throughout history has had a leader both able and willing to make the hard decisions necessary to ensure their success. The Corps of Discovery Expedition led by Merriwether Lewis and William Clark. Shackleton’s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition led by Sir Ernest Shackleton. The Apollo 11 Mission under the command of Neil Armstrong, which took willingly mankind offworld for the first time. And let us not forget the Ancestors Expedition, led by Major Georj Blackwolf in the 23rd century. That expedition took a large group of Amerinds from Earth in search of the Star People—the Athranians, as we now know them to be—who took their descendants to the world the captives called Starhaven.
“Allow us to introduce to you, based on his knowledge of interstellar travel, and input from you, the members of this expedition, your leader for this mission...Kirt Niedrigh.”
There was another loud cheer that lasted long enough Leland to step back and Kirt to take his place. The young man allowed the cheer to continue for several seconds before he raised his hands to quiet them down.
“My fellow Wanderers,” he said as the room grew still. He looked around, then a big smile appeared on his face. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go find a new home!”
* * * * *
Despite Kirt’s rousing cry to go find a new home, once the excitement died down, the Wanderers continued preparing for their journey. Accompanied by his adviser, an attractive woman unfamiliar to most of those on the Clubhouse. Everywhere they couple went, gossip was left behind when they moved on.
Kirt had just finished speaking with their very young computer expert when he and the woman met Leland in the hallway.
“Kirt,” the man said, his smile not wavering. “How are things looking to you?”
The mission leader returned the man’s smile. “We should be ready to lift off on schedule.”
“Good,” the older man replied. He then turned his attention to the woman. “I know everyone connected to this mission, Miss, but I don’t seem to know you.”
Kirt spoke up. “Sir,” he said. “I’m afraid that is my fault. When she approached me saying she had been assigned as my adviser, I thought you knew.”
Both men looked at the woman, their smiles gone.
“Is Zerinna Zatara your real name?” Kirt asked.
The dark-haired woman nodded. “It is.”
“Why did you say you were assigned as my adviser?”
“I have been,” she answered.
“Miss,” Leland said. “If this is a ruse just to get off Earth, I’m afraid it is not going to work. If you can explain why you are here to my satisfaction, the worse that will happen is you will be politely escorted off the premises. If not, you may well be spending the remainder of your time until evacuation in a science cell.”
“I can assure you Miss Zatara was assigned as an adviser on this mission.”
The two men turned toward the sound of the voice in time to see the Martian becoming visible. Kirt raised his hands in defense, but Leland gently pushed them back down. “She is here at your request.” It was half question and half statement.
The Martian nodded. “I was once friends with an ancestor of hers nearly a thousand years ago. She is wise beyond her years and, I believe, someone who can be of great value to the team.”
Leland smiled. “Why wasn’t she brought into the program from the beginning if she is a meta?”
“Zerinna is not a meta,” the Martian said. “She is what is known as a homo magi.”
“So, she has spent time on Sorcerer’s World,” Kirt commented.
“Actually,” the woman spoke up. “I have never been to Sorcerer’s World. I gained a portion of my training from the Morgana in Skartaris, as well as communing with the spirits of my ancestors. Mine is a family long familiar with the ghosts of the past.”
Kirt was a young man who feared very little, but what he was discovering about his new adviser was not setting well with him. “What are her other qualifications to be my adviser? I would think a knowledge of tactics and science would be needed.”
The Martian nodded. “Zerinna is one of the few humans to ever receive training from the Pedagogues of Colu.”
Both men had heard of the Pedagogues, emissaries of the Benevolent Computo, High Governor of Colu. “You must be gifted, indeed,” Leland said. “I have heard the Pedagogues seek out only the most promising students.”
“Trust me,” the Martian replied. “Zerinna will be a great asset to this endeavor.”
Two beeps issued forth from a badge on Kirt’s navy blue jacket. All eyes were drawn to the badge.
“Kirt,” the young man said. “What is it?”
“We might have a problem, Captain.”
“Is that you, Peter?” Kirt asked.
“Yes. I was on the bridge and one of the long range sensors went off,” Peter said.
“I didn’t think they were online yet.”
“Danielle was running a quick diagnostic on them to make certain they were fully functional and an alarm began to sound. She checked the system again and shut the alarm off, but we decided to look at the data.”
“And?” Kirt asked.
“There is a ship inbound,” Peter replied.
“Inbound from where?” Leland asked.
“Danielle is checking on that, Sir,” Peter replied. “Hold on.”
The girl’s voice replaced Peter’s. “According to the computers’ trajectory calculations, which they promise are accurate to within less than a parsec, the ship is coming in from Khundia.”
Peter’s frantic voice cut back in. “It’s not just a ship. This thing is the size of a small planet!”
“Mr. McCauley,” another voice on the comm system called out. “We have an incoming transmission coming from out near Pluto.”
“On my way,” the man replied.
The Martian looked at Zerinna. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
The young woman spoke. “Tropsnart mih ot eht noitacinummoc retnec.”
In the blink of his eye, Leland McCauley was standing in the communication center in the Watchtower. A chorus of gasps at his sudden appearance filled his ears; although he was just as surprised as the staff, he gave no indication that his sudden appearance was anything but planned.
Well, now we know what she can do, he thought. “So”, he said aloud. “Let’s find out what our visitors want.”
Part Eight
Leland McCauley, along with the head of the Earth Emergency Services, Chief Zall Morgan, and Mojai Desai, the current Earthgov President, watched as a shuttle from the Tyrrazian Rescue World set down on the spaceport tarmac. The hatch opened and a party of four white-clad Tyrrazians led by a Khundian, also wearing white, emerged.
President Desai stepped forward and greeted the visitors. “Welcome to Earth.”
“I am Ambassador Ghadrak,” the Khundian said. “We are here to help with the evacuation of Earth.”
There was a collective sigh of relief from the humans.
“How did you know of our situation?” Chief Morgan asked.
The ambassador seemed genuinely surprised. “From the aid request we received, of course.”
Now, it was the humans’ turn to be surprised. Since Chief Morgan had asked the question, he knew Zall never sent the request, so President Desai looked at Leland, but the man just shrugged.
“If I may, who sent the request?” the Earthgov leader asked.
Ambassador Ghadrak removed a small tablet from his pocket and tapped the screen. After a moment, he replied. “This makes no sense. According to my computer, the message was received several weeks ago, which gave us time to make preparations and gather supplies, but it was originally produced and has been “suspended”, for lack of a better word, in our system for nearly two centuries. It is almost like it was waiting until now for us to receive it.”
Zall asked the question they were all thinking. “Who could have sent it? Who would have had such technology 200 years ago?”
“The message isn’t from the past,” Ambassador Ghadrak said, “it’s from the future.”
Although wide-eyed at the information, Leland’s mind turned the idea over and over. “Theoretically, I believe it is possible.”
The Khundian scrolled up and down, looking for any sign of a sender. When he found nothing, he moved to where the three humans could see the message itself.
“In the month of what the people of Earth called August, in the year of 2985, a great cataclysm will bring about the complete destruction of the planet. While they will have time to save many, many more will not survive...unless the benevolent Khundians intervene.”
President Desai brought his hand up to cover his mouth. After a moment, he removed it and spoke. “That is less than a month away.”
“There is no possible way to complete the evacuation by then,” Zall said.
Of the three humans, only Leland kept things in perspective. “Gentlemen,” he said to his companions. “Look on the bright side. Thanks to this mysterious request, and the appearance of the Khundians and the Tyrrazians, the people—all of the people—of Earth now have a chance.” He looked at Mojai Desai. “I believe you need to call an emergency meeting of the council, immediately. Now that we know roughly how much time we have left, we need to move up our already short timeline.”
Chief Zall Morgan quickly bid the group farewell, pausing just long enough express his gratitude to their rescuers. Before he was out of earshot, he was already on his comm contacting his people, letting them know of what had just occurred. By the time he reached the Earth Emergency Services office, his top people had begun to gather.
After Zall had left, President Desai, accompanied by Ambassador Ghadrak, left for the Earthgov building. Leland was left standing with the four Tyrrazians. He approached the group and smiled.
“So, would you care to join me aboard the Watchtower?” he asked. “We might as well begin coordinating our efforts and setting up our communications.”
One of the four stepped forward. Like the others of his race, his skin was red and stretched tight over a muscular frame; unlike the others, however, he was missing his right arm. In its place was a prosthetic replacement made up of an array of scanners and sensors, all designed specifically to aid in diagnosing and assisting the sick and injured. He nodded to the human. “I will join you while my brothers return to our worldship and begin making preparations to move closer to your planet.”
“How are you known?” Leland asked.
“I am called Tyr.”
Part Nine
The Watchtower—
Leland and Tyr arrived to find the Martian speaking to a bald, middle-aged gentleman in a short white jacket and matching slacks. Tyr’s eyes widened at the sight of J’onn, having never seen one of his fabled race before. The Martian saw Leland and his guest and motioned for them to join the conversation. After introductions were made, Leland addressed the man in white.
“So, Dr. Morlo. I trust you are here with news of the Chemoid Program,” he said.
“I am,” the doctor replied. “The first of them has emerged from the development pods and has been cleared to begin assisting on the evac-ship.”
Leland nodded. “If I remember correctly, you were beginning with twelve to see the results before full production was initiated. How are the remaining eleven progressing?”
“Based on the information we have gleamed from the tests performed on Gorn, we have been able to determine they are all exceeding expectations and the last of them should be emerging in three days.” Dr. Morlo was pleased to provide his positive news.
“That’s fantastic,” Leland said. What he said next caught the scientist off guard. “Unfortunately, we will no longer be continuing the program.”
The news caught even J’onn by surprise. Before either of them could speak, Leland continued.
“We no longer have the time to see the end results. According to what we believe is credible information, Earth has less than a month before it ceases to exist.”
“That explains the arrival of the Tyrrazian Rescue World,” the Martian replied.
Tyr spoke. “We know you have your evac-ships, but you won’t have enough of them operational before the end comes. We have come to help evacuated everyone, including as many of the other species who call this world home. Of course, we will begin with humanity before we begin collecting the rest.”
Dr. Morlo seemed crestfallen, though whether it was because of Earth’s shortened time or the termination of his project, no one was certain.
The Tyrrazian looked at Dr. Morlo. “What are these Chemoids you are creating?”
The man in white perked up. “ My Chemoids are synthetic lifeforms I am, or, rather, was developing to act as support crew on the evac-ships. They require minimal sustenance, no oxygen, and no need to sleep. We were going to use them to take care of the menial tasks so the evacuees would have one less thing to worry about.”
Tyr nodded. “Wouldn’t the evacuees prefer to have something to do aboard the ships to help keep their minds off of their loss?”
Dr. Morlo smiled. “We considered that, and while there will be humans acting as supervisors, we decided most of them would prefer not to be spend the entire trip working in waste management or something equally disgusting.”
Tyr thought for a minute. “Could they be trained for something more than just menial labor?”
“I believe so,” Dr. Morlo replied. “Why?”
“A Tyrrazian Rescue World ship could always use assistance with the evacuation of dying worlds.”
Dr. Morlo considered the possibilities. “I believe they could be programmed, and then further trained if the need arose, to do something like that. Unfortunately, as you just heard, the Chemoid Program will proceed no further than the original twelve already in development.”
Tyr turned to Leland. “I believe you are one of those in authority, so I will put the question to you. Would it be possible to move the good doctor and his equipment to our world ship? In addition to aiding in rescue, these chemoids could also be useful when survivors are transplanted on other worlds.”
“I believe that is a wonderful idea,” Leland said. “But, there is one condition.”
“And that would be?” Tyr asked.
“Wherever our citizens end up, we have enough chemoids to help us begin again.”
Tyr extended his hand. “I believe that is an acceptable request.”
Part Ten
Metropolis, Earth—
Ral Benem was not a native of Earth, yet something had drawn him here, even after the the planet had instated a ban on new offworlders who might have intended to make the journey. How his tiny craft had made it past all of the Earth’s security measures was beyond him, but now that he was here he had to figure out why.
He gathered the few belongings he had brought with him, then turned and left his craft without a backward glance. That same something that had drawn him here made him feel it would no longer be needed. He could only hope he hadn’t been lead to his death by an overactive imagination.
The Watchtower—
“Hey, J’onzzy,” a familiar voice heard only by the Martian said. “He’s here, just like ya said.”
J’onn let his mind drift outward until he sensed the young man. Over the centuries, his already-impressive telepathy had grown to rival some of the strongest minds on Titan.
“Ya want me ta do it now?” the voice asked. “I can meet up with him in no time.”
The Martian kept his thoughts to himself for a moment. “Are you certain you want to go through with this?” he asked. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be with…”
“Don’t say that name,” the voice warned. “I’ve done good avoiding her for the past few centuries; let’s not spoil that now.”
“Very well,” J’onn replied. “You realize this could be your final adventure. We have no guarantee you will survive leaving Earth.”
There was no sadness when the voice responded. “But, if I do…”
“Then, do what needs to be done,” J’onn said. The young man might not survive both of you, so you need to get him to the Watchtower as soon as possible. I will make sure you have no trouble gaining access, and we will have a vessel prepared.”
“On my way,” the voice said. “See you soon, J’onzzy.”
“Good luck, Boston.”
Metropolis—
Ral felt like a tourist rather than someone who might be on a mission. Again, he began to doubt his reason for coming to a doomed planet. “Perhaps I should just turn myself in,” he muttered to no one. “At least then I would have a better chance of surviving.”
“Trust me, pal,” a voice that only the wind was privy to responded. “You are definitely gonna survive.”
Had the young man from Mardru been able to see past the veil separating the living from the dead, he might have noticed the ghostly figure of a man dressed entirely in red with a designer white “D” on his chest. What had once been a solid white mask was now a true representation of his face, and that face was wearing a grin.
Ral managed to take two more steps before he felt like he was falling into a dream. As Boston’s ghostly form entered into his body, it seemed as though he was being gently ushered into a room apart from himself. For a fleeting moment, he saw the being that was taking possession of his body.
“Don’t mind me,” Boston said. “I’m just here to get you where you are going.”
Ral didn’t know what to say, so he began to scream. Had anyone seen the young man at that moment, all they would have seen was the stranger standing and staring off into space; were they able to hear his thoughts, however, they would have doubted their own sanity.
“Whoa, kid. Tone it down,” Boston told him. “We have work to do, and very little time to do it what with the world about to explode and everything.”
“Are...are you the voice that drew me here?” Ral asked.
“Nah,” Boston said. “I’m not sure who called ya here, but you’ll meet the guy who sent me a little later..”
Ral started to ask another question, but the ghost cut him off. “We really don’t have time for this. Nighty night.”
The Mardruian was suddenly asleep in his own mind. Boston put a smile on the young man’s face as he did a cartwheel. This did catch the attention of a passerby on his way to prepare for the end. “Don’t mind me,” Boston shouted with Ral’s voice. “I finally decided to quit talking and do something.”
An hour later, after making Ral’s body do things he would have never thought possible, Boston arrived at Catskill Park, one of the few green places left in the city. Most of the protected wildlife in the park had already been evacuated to holding areas where they would soon be loaded onto the evac-ships. Seeing no one around, not that it would have stopped him anyway, Boston put Ral’s hands up to his mouth in the form of a cone and yelled.
“Come out, come out, wherever your are.” With that done, he walked over to a park bench and sat down. He managed to remain seated for all of two minutes before the joy of being in a real body had him back on his feet. Like a master puppeteer, he had Ral’s body dancing and jumping and tumbling about like a madman. He only stopped when he heard a voice behind him.
“Why have you called me?”
Boston/Ral turned to see a vine sprouting from the ground, followed by another and another. As more and more vines grew, they began weaving themselves together into the shape of a large man-shaped figure. A big grin appeared on the possessed young man’s face.
“Alec?” Boston asked. “Are you in there?”
The figured looked at him through unblinking eyes for a moment. “I remember the one you call Alec. I shall call upon his memories which are stored in the Green.”
“Yeah, well, try to hurry,” Boston said. “You more than anybody knows we don’t have much time left.”
“Boston?” the figure asked. “Is it really you?”
“In the flesh...well...in somebody’s flesh,” Boston replied.
“Why have you called me forth? I was preparing for my death with the death this world.”
“How about you put that whole death talk on hold? Do you remember J’onn J’onzz?”
“I do,” the figure answered.
“Well, he sent me. He has a plan that will save you now so you can help save the people of Earth later,” Boston said.
“I don’t understand,” Alec confessed.
“See this kid,” Boston said, casting Ral’s arms out wide and making him turn like a man showing off his new suit. “Well, he’s got the gene.”
The figure moved closer. “Yes. I can sense something familiar...wait a minute. Is he...is that…?”
“Yep,” Boston grinned. “His gene is tied to the Green of his world, and that means you can hitch a ride off this train wreck before it’s too late.”
“And why does J’onn wish me to leave Earth?” Alec asked as small tendrils extended from his hand to Ral’s arm.
“When the folks of this world reach a habitable planet, you might help connect it to the Green and help it flourish.”
Alec thought for a second. “I will miss this world. Hopefully, I will still be able to call upon the Green of the new world and access my millennia of memories.”
Ral’s hand reached up and touched the figure’s shoulder. “Then, get in here so we can get back to the Watchtower.”
The figure’s vines began to encircle Ral and, once he was completely covered, slip through the pores of his skin. He was amazed at how well he melded with the young man.
“I’m going to wake him up so he knows it’s more than just me and him in here now. Oh, and just so you know,” Boston said, his voice filled with mischief, he will probably start screaming.”
Ral did not proved the ghostly acrobat wrong.
Part Eleven
The Watchtower—
J’onn and Zerinna were waiting when Ral arrived.
“J’onzzy,” the young man said, or, rather, Boston said using Ral’s voice. “We have arrived, just like I promised.”
J’onn let his mind reach out. “Alec,” he said telepathically.
“I am here,” Alec replied, also using Ral’s voice.
“Ya know, J’onny-boy. It’s a bit crowded in here. Wasn’t there supposed to be a new ride waitin’ here for me?”
“Hold on,” the Martian said as he touched his temple. “Your “ride” is on its way.”
“Well, kid. Alec. It’s been fun, but I gotta be goin’,” Boston said as he left Ral’s body. Only Zerinna saw him floating nearby.
“I trust you understand why you are here, Ral Benem,” J’onn said.
The young man cleared his throat. “Um, well. I think so. Alec, that’s what he told me to call him, has tried to explain how we are going to be “traveling” together for a while. I know he and I are connected to something called “The Green”, and while we are together, I will be able access it as well. He said he will teach me more about it as we are traveling.”
“Holy crap on a cracker!” Boston said, although only J’onn and Zerinna could hear him. “Is that a freakin’ Amazo android?”
“It is,” J’onn replied. “We very well couldn’t let you possess a human for the trip.”
“No way!” Boston continued. “Is that really Robotman with him? Cliff, is that you?”
“That’s not Cliff Steele,” J’onn said. “Cliff’s brain suffered an aneurysm, of sorts, several hundred years ago. In truth, I believe he had simply grown tired of losing everyone and initiated an overload that mimicked an aneurysm.”
“So, that’s just a plain old robot?” Boston asked.
“Could you please enter into the Amazo android?” J’onn asked. “It will make this conversation much easier.”
A second later, the 8 foot tall Amazo android began to move around like it was getting used to doing more than just walking. “This is pretty cool,” Boston admitted. “How am I doing this? Normally, I’ve only ever been able to possess living folks.”
“You can thank Zerinna for that,” J’onn told him.
“I’m not sure I like the colors, but I do love the mobility,” Boston said. “Thanks, pretty lady.”
“I am glad it suits your needs,” Robotman said.
“Thanks,” Boston replied. “Now, if you aren’t Cliff, then who are you? Obviously, there is still a human brain in that body.”
Robotman extended his hand. “My name is Kyle Giella. This body has been my home since late in the 25th century. I used to belong to an organization called the Knights of the Galaxy.”
“Yeah,” Boston said. “Never heard of them. Anyway, if you are are friend of the Martian’s, that’s good enough for me.”
“Would you like for me to show you around while you get used to your body?” Kyle asked.
“Sure,” Boston said. “And, maybe when we are done, you can help me do something about these colors,” he said pointing at his “skin”.
Once Boston and Kyle were gone, J’onn turned his attention back to Ral. “Even though you are here now, I want you to know you have a choice to make.”
“I do?” Ral asked.
“Yes, you do. I know you coming here was more our doing than it was yours, so, if you choose not to do this, we will understand,” J’onn said.
The young man stood silent for a moment. “Alec says he knew you many, many years ago, and that you were a noble being. I know that Alec might be needed when Earth’s refugees reach another world and I will gladly do what I can to help. I just have one question.”
“What would that be?”
“How did you manage to find and reach out to me to summon me here? I mean, you must have pretty powerful telepathy to do that.”
“I am not the one who called you to come to Earth,” J’onn said. “I was only told of your coming, of your connection to the Green, and how you could possibly be of aid in the, hopefully, near future.”
“Then, who called me here?” Ral asked.
Although his face did not show it, there was uncertainty in J’onn’s voice when he answered. “I honestly do not know.”
The Aegean Sea--
A beautiful, though aged, woman clothed in diaphanous veils of mist stood on the shore of a somehow forgotten island. Despite all of Earthgov’s technology, it had been several centuries since any mortal had set foot here. A great cloud covered the face of the sea in all directions, yet a ray of sun brightened the land beneath her feet.
“It is done,” the woman said. “I am ready to leave this place.”
“As the humans were so fond of saying, it’s about time.” The voice was deep and seemed to come from both everywhere and nowhere.
“Leaving for me is not as easy as it was for the rest of you,” the woman said. “My very being has been tied to this world, and now I am about to lose a part of myself.”
“I take it you found someone,” the male voice said.
“I had to reach out very far to find someone who could carry the Green inside, but he came, just as I hoped.”
The air in front of her began to twist and warp until a portal began to open up. Within the portal stood two men, one a thick-set man exuding great power and the other, a slender man holding a staff topped by a winged serpent.
“Well. What are you waiting on?” the big man asked.
“Yeah, Gaea,” the other man added. “The others are waiting.”
Gaea, known to worshipers throughout the years by many names, including Mother Nature, stepped through the portal. The moment her feet left the island, the Earth shuddered.
Part Twelve
Leland looked at the young man standing beside J’onn, a look of amusement on his face. “Could you please just go ahead and tell me; do you have any other additions to this team I should know about?”
The Martian sensed no malice or anger emanating from his friend, simply curiosity. “There was another I have been hoping to find, but I fear time is running out. The Clubhouse is set to launch in two days.”
“What makes this one important?” Leland asked.
“She can access people’s emotions,” J’onn said. “She can sense how they are feeling, and, possibly, even affect their emotions.”
Ral stepped forward. “Pardon me, but Alec wants to know if she feeds off of other people’s emotions?”
“Alec?” Leland asked.
“I will explain later,” J’onn told him. He looked back at Ral. “If she does…”
“...Then, that poor child must be in torment given the emotional state of the people of Earth right now,” Leland said, completing J’onn’s thought. “I will do what I can to make sure she’s found...for her sake, if nothing else.” He thought for a second. “Do you know her name?”
The Martian shook his head. “All I have been able to find out is that she is called “Psyche”.”
“Psyche,” Leland repeated. “If you will excuse me.”
“Of course,” J’onn replied. Turning to Ral, he said, “I will introduce you the team leader, Kirt Niedrigh. He will get bring you up to date.”
* * * * *
Mega-California—
Antonio Stefanacci was in the process of cataloging and packing the various artifacts of the Museum of Mystic Arts when a young red-haired man approached him.
“I guess the doors were unintentionally left unlocked,” Antonio said. “Given the upcoming cataclysm, we are, obviously, closed. Please, however, feel free to stop by the gift shop on the way out and take what you want. I see no reason for everything to be destroyed.”
“Thank you,” the young man said, “but I am here to see you.”
Antonio looked at his visitor. “Do you mind if I continue to work while we talk? I still have several items to pack before they are collected.”
“Not at all,” the young man said. “My name is Roon Dvron, and I am looking for a girl.”
Antonio glanced at the young man and smiled. “I think you have come to the wrong place.”
“Not at all,” Roon replied. “You are Antonio Stefanacci, curator of the Museum of Mystic Arts, are you not?”
“Obviously.”
“You are a member of the Circle of Light, as well,” Roon continued.
The older man dropped a pendant that resembled a closed eye surrounded by a dozen very small globes. “How…?”
Roon reached down and picked up the pendant. “You should be more careful with these artifacts.”
Antonio took it from Roon. “This thing? Some charlatan dropped this off one day claiming it was an item of power called the Eye of Agamomo, or something like that; I’ve never detected anything mystic about it.”
Roon shrugged. “I think your nervousness confirmed your identity.”
“So, what do you want with me?” Antonio asked. “Who is this girl you are searching for?”
“She is called Psyche,” Roon told him. “Rumor has it she was once a prisoner of the Cult of Azarath, until she was rescued by the Circle of Light. With everything going on, she is probably going out of her mind with the flood of emotions. The people who sent me to find her want to help her.”
Antonio looked at the young man. “Why would they want to help her?”
“Because,” Roon replied, “they need her help.”
“How can they help her?” the older man asked, still somewhat skeptical.
“If I can find her, she gets to move to the front of the line off this soon-to-be dead world.”
Antonio thought about it for a moment. Although he hadn’t been present at her rescue, he had been a key part of keeping her safe. “All right,” he said. “I’ll take you to her.”
The trip to where the young woman was was shorter than the young man had expected. Antonio led him down several flights of stairs to a sub-basement beneath the museum. At the bottom, the pair them proceeded down a long corridor to an iron door. The older man waved his hand and muttered a phrase in a language Roon had never heard before. The door swung inward and the young man caught sight of the one he had come seeking. Like the fabled Sleeping Beauty of ancient legends, an attractive young woman with platinum blonde hair lay upon a simple cot; the slow rise and fall of her chest let Roon know she was in a deep sleep.
“We have been keeping her sedated to prevent her from being overwhelmed by the high emotions running rampant right now,” Antonio said. “Give me a moment and I will wake her up.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Roon said. “Azarath doesn’t care if she is awake or asleep; we just want her back.”
Antonio knew he only had seconds left to live, yet he knew he couldn’t let the cult recapture the girl again. “The world is coming to an end,” he said, trying to buy enough time to activate one of the few charms he had secreted about his body. “Why not let the poor girl live in peace until that time comes?”
“Azarath has plans for her,” Roon said, pulling a small blaster from his pocket. “Unfortunately, there are no plans for you.”
Antonio knew he was too late to do anything.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” Roon continued. “Since you were so nice to bring me directly to her, I’ll give you a choice. I can kill you now, or I can chain you up down here and let you await the end of the world all alone.”
“Or,” said a new voice, “you can choose option number three.”
Antonio heard something heavy hit the ground. He turned to see who the newcomer was, not knowing if he would survive the next few seconds. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the red-headed young man face down on the floor, several sharp objects sticking from his back. Standing in the doorway was a young man in a very familiar body sleeve; he had seen it on the holo-vids as the uniform being worn by the group of young people who had been chosen to leave Earth ahead of the evac-ships.
“I hope you are okay, Mr. Stefanacci,” the young man said.
Antonio was surprised to see the young man before him, his rescuer, was covered in what appeared to be quills. He looked back at the body of Roon and realized it was these quills that were sticking out of his back.
“My name’s Pete,” the young man said, extending a hand to assist the older man to his feet. He smiled. “My friends call me ‘Porcupine’.”
Part Thirteen
Zerinna stepped through a portal she had opened to the museum; Antonio didn’t ask how she had managed to bypass the many wards he had in place.
“You’re the new girl, Zerinna, right?” Pete asked. “You got here fast.”
Zerinna smiled at her teammate. “Mr. McCauley said time was of the essence.”
At the mention of Leland McCauley’s name, Antonio knew he had been right in trusting the young man. “Shall I wake the girl?” he asked. “Or would you rather wait until you have her back to...uh...wherever you are taking her? I don’t want the world’s emotions to overwhelm her.”
“You must have been busy with your work,” Zerinna said. “A Tyrrazian Rescue World has appeared and is offering to help with evacuation. Hope is now the primary emotion on Earth.”
Antonio nodded. “Then, she should be fine.”
Within moments, the young woman’s eyes fluttered open and she tried to sit up. Her panic became palpable when she discovered she could not. Antonio stepped to where she could see him. “Give it a minute,” he assured her. “You were kept immobile so you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself.”
Sensing only goodwill from the man, the young woman tried to relax. True to his word, she felt control of her body slowly returning.
“What happened?” the young woman asked when she was finally able to sit up.
“You were a prisoner of the cult of Azarath,” Zerinna said, stepping forward, “but Mr. Stefanacci and his…” She looked at Antonio. “...Friends managed to find and rescue you.”
The young woman looked first at the girl, and, then, at the boy. “Who are you?”
“We are part of the Wanderers,” Pete offered.
“They are part of the group of young people who are leaving Earth in hopes of finding us a new world to colonize,” Antonio told her. “And they want you to join them.”
“I am Psych,” the young woman said, and I would be glad to join you.”
* * * * *
Zerinna was the last to step through her portal onto the deck of the Watchtower; Leland, J’onn, and Kirt were already there. She knew the Martian was already filling Psych in telepathically, so she turned to the two men.
“Pete got there just in time,” she said.
Pete smiled. “You know, it’s okay to call me ‘Porcupine’,” he told her.
“What happened?” Leland asked. “Was there trouble?”
“One of the cultist beat me there, but not by much,” Pete reported. “I managed to follow them to where the girl was.”
“And what of the cultist?” Kirt asked.
Pete was suddenly serious. “He won’t bother her anymore. Hopefully, his fellow cultists will get the message.”
“Yes. Well,” Leland said. He looked at Zerinna. “It looks like you brought more back than just the girl.”
Zerinna held up a bright yellow, high-collared cloak. “It was a gift from the curator of the museum.”
The yellow caught J’onn’s attention. “The Cloak of Destiny,” he said, his voice low and respectful. “I would have thought Nabu reclaimed it when Kent died.”
“You know of this?” Leland asked.
“It belonged to a hero from just before my time named Dr. Fate,” J’onn said. “Why would the man just hand this over to you?” he asked Zerinna.
“He said it was for helping Psych and saving his life,” the young woman replied.
Pete looked at Psych, then at Kirt. “Do you want me to show her around the Clubhouse?”
“Perhaps it would be better if Zerinna did that?” Kirt said. “I need you to make sure everyone’s gear is properly stowed.”
Pete smiled. “I will see to it.”
As he turned to make his way back to the Clubhouse, Psych reached out and touched him gently on the arm. He stopped and looked at her.
“Thank you,” she said.
Pete grinned and patted her hand. “You’re a Wanderer now, and we take care of each other.”
“I wasn’t at the time,” she told him.
Pete’s grin grew even bigger. “Ah, I knew you would join once you got a look at this smiling face.”
Psych smiled as the young man turned and walked away. She was still watching him go as Zerinna took her by the arm. “He is a very honest and happy person,” she said. “He regrets what he had to do back at the museum, but he believes it was what needed to be done and is at peace within himself.”
J’onn and the others heard Zerinna mutter a phrase they knew was one of he spells and, suddenly, the two women were no longer there. Leland smiled at the Martian.
“Well. I can see why you wanted this girl on our crew,” he said.
Kirt nodded. “Both of them, actually.”
Part Fourteen
One day until launch—
Psych had met most of her teammates on this most important of missions—and gotten a pretty good idea of what they were truly like—and was now settling in to her own little cabin aboard the Clubhouse. She had seen inside of a few of the other cabins and marveled at how colorful they were, decorated with items, memories, really, from their past; in contrast, her new home was quite sterile looking. She had very little memory of her life before being taken prisoner, and what memories she did have were spotty, at best. She felt tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes, but before they could fall, there was a soft knock upon her door. She wiped her eyes and answered.
“Enter.”
The door slid open at her command and two young women stepped inside. The two girls could not have been more different. One was tall and slender with exceptionally long red hair, while the other was a bit shorter with pale yellow skin and what appeared to be black make-up around her eyes and running down her cheeks.
“See,” said the first girl. “I told you she wouldn’t have anything but an old, dingy cabin.”
“Sussa,” the other girl said. “You don’t have to sound so rude about it.”
Psych smiled. “She didn’t mean anything by it.” She glanced around again. “And, she’s right. It is rather dingy.”
“See,” the one called Sussa said.
“You are Sussa Paka,” Psych said to the more forward of the two girls. “And your name is Berta, Berta Haris. Welcome to my, uh, cabin. What can I do for you?”
Sussa’s long hair began to move, seemingly on its own, until it snaked around her waist and extended toward Psych; it was wrapped around a small vase. From the voluminous sleeves of her gray cloak, Berta pulled a small bouquet of flowers.
“We thought you might like a little color in here,” Sussa said. “It needs it.”
Psych felt the tears forming in the corners of her eyes again, but, this time, the usual accompanying sorrow was missing. Instead, the was feeling something she hadn’t felt in her self in a long time, happiness. “Thank you both, so much.” She wasn’t sure if that was enough for what she was feeling.
Sussa threw her arms around the newest Wanderer and pulled her close. “Come on, Berta, join in. Let’s make it a group hug.”
Reluctantly, Berta joined in.
“Okay,” Sussa said after a few seconds, “We have to get back to work. Do you know what your job is, Psych? Or, have they assigned you anything yet, seeing as how you are so new?”
“I’m not sure,” Psych replied. “I’m sure I’ll find out soon. I am supposed to meet with the captain in an hour.”
Sussa gave her another quick hug. “Let us know how it goes.” She grabbed Berta by the arm and led her from the room.
As they rushed down the corridor, Psych could hear Sussa’s voice yelling to tell her goodbye. With nearly a half an hour before her meeting with Kirt, she closed her door and looked at the vase. She moved it from one spot to another trying to find the perfect place; she finally placed the flowers on the little stand beside her bed. Happy that her cabin was now a little less dingy, she decided to seek out the leader of the Wanderers.
* * * * *
Kirt and Zerinna were on their way to the bridge when they saw Psych coming down the corridor toward them. They stopped long enough for her to join them.
“Are you getting settled in?” Kirt asked. “How is your cabin?”
Psych smiled. “The cabin is a little less dingy now, thanks to Berta and Sussa,” she replied. “It is easy to settle in when you don’t have any possessions to worry about.”
“Yeah,” Kirt said with a smile. “I see your point.”
“I will meet with you later to make certain you have a proper uniform before launch tomorrow,” Zerinna added.
“How are you doing?” Kirt asked. “I know with all of the excitement building, everyone’s emotions are probably overwhelming you.”
“I am managing,” Psych replied. “Mr. Stefanacci gave me an item to help filter out the stronger emotions so I can cope a good bit better.” After a moment, she continued. “So, I was told you would tell me what job I would be doing on the ship.”
“What kind of training have you had?” Kirt asked.
As the newest member of the crew thought for a moment, Zerinna noticed someone pass by the opposite end of the corridor. “Hold on a second,” she said. “I’ll be right back. I have an idea.” She hurried away, only to return a few moments later with a young man in tow.
When Kirt saw who was with her, he knew what she had in mind. “I’m learning to trust J’onn’s judgment even more.” He looked at Psych. “If you haven’t met him yet, this is Val Armorr. He is the head of security. I think is is a wonderful idea, Zerinna.”
Val extended his hand and Psych accepted it. “So, Zerinna said you might be joining my team.”
Psych smiled. “Well, I mean, maybe. I guess.”
Kirt spoke. “Since you can affect emotions, you would be a great addition to security. You could help diffuse most situations where calmer heads are needed.”
The girl shrugged. “Well, I don’t know how much I could do besides that. I’m not much of a fighter, and I have zero knowledge of using a weapon.”
“Are you willing to learn?” Val asked.
Psych thought for a second. “I suppose so, if you think I could.”
“Trust me,” Val said. “If you are willing to learn, I can definitely teach you.”
“It’s settled, then,” Kirt said. “Psych, I know you have met most of the crew, but let me officially welcome you aboard the Clubhouse. I believe you will become a valuable asset to the Wanderers.”
Part Fifteen
Launch Day—
Aside from members of the Watchtower’s robot crew, most of who once belonged to the heroic Metal Men, the Clubhouse was empty; the entire crew was assembled aboard the Watchtower. The entire Earth council, along with many other government officials and important members of society, as well as a good number of the crew’s family members, were in attendance. The observation deck had been chosen for the Launch Day Ceremony. Chairs were set up for everyone and a platform had been assembled near the large viewports. The Watchtower had been rotated just enough so the Clubhouse dominated the scenery. A platform had been set up between the chairs and the viewports and a single podium stood front and center. As President Desai approached the podium, everyone began to take a seat.
“My fellow Earthians, esteemed guests, honored family members. I bid you welcome in the name of hope. We are gathered here today, not to say farewell, for farewell seems like such a final ending, but to say good journey, to the fearless crew of Terra’s Hope—excuse me, the Clubhouse. Over the last few weeks, since this group of fearless young explorers have begun to gather, I have realized that we were wrong to give their ship the name Terra’s Hope. In truth, Terra’s,--Earth’s--true hope is not the ship that will travel beyond the stars and into the unknown, but its crew. I could go on and on about how much I admire these young men and women, some of Earth’s best, brightest, and bravest, but I know they have a busy day ahead of them. So, without further adieu, allow me to introduce to you, as they call themselves, the Wanderers.”
Everyone in attendance stood and applauded as 35 young men and women entered and took their place on the platform behind President Desai. For the most part, everyone wore matching body sleeves, although there were certain alterations based on the owners’ abilities, where necessary. Several of them looked uncomfortable as the center of attention, while a few seemed to revel in it. After a moment, Desai raised his hands and brought things back under control.
“We are going to give you a few minutes to meet the crew before we send them on ahead on the journey we will all soon be making. Once they are return to the Clubhouse, we will remain here on the Watchtower until after they launch.” He turned to face the Wanderers, and, in a low voice, said, “You have thirty minutes until you return to the ship. Remember, as you mingle with our guests, they are sending with you all of their hopes and dreams. Beyond the gratitude of the planet, I want you to know how much I, personally, appreciate what you are about to do. Thank you.” He took the time to shake the hand of everyone of the Wanderers before sending them into the crowd.
As the group began to mingle with the audience, both Ral and Psych remained back, but only for a moment. Both Berta and Sussa approached Psych, inviting her to come and meet their families. Thinking he had been left alone because he wasn’t actually from Earth, Ral was surprised when a familiar voice called his name.
“Ral!”
He turned to see the android Boston had called Amazo, now wearing a red outfit with dark hair, waving at him. He looked up at Boston as he drew near.
“Whaddaya think?” Boston asked.
Ral smiled. “It his what you looked like before you, uh…”
“Yeah,” Boston replied. “Well, except for the pointy ears and, ya know, being 8 feet tall. Anyhoo, I hope ya aren’t mad at me for bringin’ ya into this mess.”
The Mardruian continued to smile. “Honestly, I feel like I am right where I belong. Thank you for finding me and bringing me here.”
“Hey, don’t mention it, kid.”
Ral thought for a second. “So, are you going with us?”
“Nah,” Boston told him. “J’onn has plans for me on the Watchtower. He says we will have our hands full keeping the rest of the solar system safe once the Earth goes kablooey.”
Ral stuck his hand out and Boston’s big hand wrapped around it gently. “I hope we meet again,” the young man said.
“Me, too, kid,” Boston said. “Me, too.”
Although a few crew members couldn’t wait to return to the Clubhouse, time passed too swiftly for most of those in attendance. President Desai returned to the podium and announced, with a mixture of sadness and excitement, the time had come for the crew to say their goodbyes.
The Wanderers lined up and, with Kirt in the lead, left the observation deck. Moments later, the dignitaries and family members gathered at the large viewports and watched as a shuttle docked with the launch platform. Although the platform was enclosed, and the Wanderers could not be seen leaving the shuttle, many of those on the Watchtower began to wave. Everyone knew within the hour the Clubhouse would disembark and begin its quest to find a new home.
Part Sixteen
The Clubhouse—
Since much of the ship’s launch sequence would be handled by computers, very few of the crew were actually needed. Kirt was in his seat, Danielle Foccart, the crew’s youngest member, was at a nearby computer station, Zerinna was seated near Kirt, and a young woman, with long, dark hair named Anjelika Dugensa was at the communication station. Val Armorr, as head of security, stood near the door. The remaining crew members were in the recreation area watching a vid screen of their impending lift off.
“This is all so surreal,” a young woman with green skin and long, greenish-blonde hair commented. “We are actually watching a live feed of the outside of the Clubhouse while being inside the Clubhouse.”
“I know what you mean, Tayla,” a young man, one of two who wore a metal mask over his face, replied. “Andrew and I were talking about it last night.”
“May I ask you a question?” Ral inquired of the young man beside him.
“Sure,” a slightly overweight young man replied. “But, please, call me Chuck.”
“Alright, Chuck. I am Ral. As you have obviously heard, I am not from Earth, so, I am curious what this countdown is they are talking about.”
Chuck smiled. “Apparently, back when mankind started leaving Earth to explore the stars, the final few seconds before the explorers left in their rockets and shuttles, there was a countdown of their time remaining on this planet. I guess someone decided to revive the tradition for this momentous occasion.”
Ral nodded and smiled. “Thank you for explaining it to me.”
Chuck patted him on the back. “No problem. If you have any other questions about how, or why, we do things, feel free to ask me.”
President Desai’s face appeared on the screen and everyone grew quiet. As expected, his speech was very similar to the one he told less than an hour past; the only difference now was the address was changed to include the entire world.
Back on the bridge, as President Desai reached the end of his speech, Anjelika opened communications with the Watchtower. “Are you ready, Kirt?” she asked.
Kirt took a deep breath and nodded. “Whenever the president gives the signal.”
“...The leader of the expedition, Captain Kirt Niedrigh. Captain Niedrigh, can you hear me?”
Anjelica touched a key and Kirt’s face filled every vid screen on the planet that was on.
“President Desai. I can hear you loud and clear,” Kirt replied.
A cheer could be heard coming from the recreation deck a few decks below.
“Captain Niedrigh,” President Desai began. “The countdown to your departure has commenced and we are down to the final minutes. Are you ready?”
Kirt smiled. “We are ready to get underway. The crew is anxious to find a new home for everyone.”
“Before we say goodbye for a final time on this planet,” Desai asked, “do you have anything you wish to say?”
Kirt thought for a second. “First, and I speak for all of the Wanderers, we want to send our heartfelt thanks to the Khundians and the Tyrrazians for coming to the Earth’s aid. We leave here with lighter shoulders knowing our families, our friends, and our fellow Earthians have a greater chance of survival because of their intervention. Next, we wish to thank Mr. McCauley and those he had assembled who have gone to great lengths to help assure the survival of the people of Earth. In addition, we would like to thank J’onn J’onnz, or, as we affectionately call him, the Martian. Had he not appeared when he did and convinced the Earthgov officials of the coming destruction, a great number of lives would have surely been lost. And, finally, I, personally, would like to thank my fellow crew members who have volunteered for this mission. May we find the success we seek and reunite with our friends and loved ones before too much time passes.” He smiled and spoke to President Desai. “Mr. President. We await your countdown.”
“Ten.”
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
“Seven.”
“Six.”
Everyone in attendance joined with President Desai. “Five.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
Unlike the violent shutters of the old Earth rockets as they fought against the Earth’s gravity to achieve orbit, the Clubhouse slipped easily from its docking area with little more than a whisper. Cheers erupted all across the planet as the group calling themselves the Wanderers left the dying planet behind to begin their search for a new home.