A Very Shapely Christmas

[DocQuantum]

I'm reposting the entire story, with the earlier chapters somewhat rewritten. See below.

[DocQuantum]

See below.

[johnreiter902]

glad to see another story for earth-4. I've always been interested in the Shape.

[lawrenceliberty]

I love the use of the Revere and her uncle plot and your selection for who the uncle is was a good one. I also always figured most of those stories from DC's Blue Beetle had some kind of equivalent in our E-4 history. That's why I used Alkemi in place of Dr. Alchemy and introduced Melody Case on E-4 too.

[DocQuantum]

Thanks, Libby. Yes, your use of those characters were part of my inspiration for including Angela Revere, and the villainous uncle plot was too similar to Kevin Boyd's history NOT to use as comparison. Of course, those villainous uncles are completely separate individuals, who affected their younger relations in similarly negative ways.

[DocQuantum]

See below.

[DocQuantum]

It sure would be nice if I could get this story done by Christmas this year!

[DocQuantum]

I managed to get a bit more of this story written, but alas, not in time for Christmas, and it's still unfinished.

[DocQuantum]

See below.

[DocQuantum]

See below.

[DocQuantum]

Chapter 1: Taking Shape

In a suburban neighborhood in Hub City, a red-haired young man tucked his two little girls into bed and kissed them goodnight, then turned off the lights, leaving on only the dim Christmas lights that the girls had insisted on decorating their rooms with for the holiday season. After all, the very next day was Christmas morning, the most special day of the year.

The nightly routine was simpler than it was for most parents of young children. He and his wife had really lucked out with kids who fell asleep when they were supposed to. Well, he had lucked out, at any rate. His ex-wife now wanted nothing to do with any of them.

Kevin Boyd had never been very lucky with women. At least, he had never been lucky with the women he'd always been attracted to. He had a knack for pursuing the wrong kind of woman -- the kind who would chew him up and spit him out and move on to the next guy. That, in a nutshell, was what the girls' mother was like. She had a few psychological issues to deal with, to say the least, and taking care of her own children just wasn't something she could handle. Oh, she'd agreed to marry him after she got pregnant, but she decided she didn't want to be a wife and mother any longer by the time their second child was only a year old. Goodbye, Jolene.

That left Kevin struggling to raise two girls alone, all while trying to keep food on the table with a single income. He was a high school science teacher, but it had taken him years to find a good school that could hire him full-time. During the years he'd worked as a substitute, he'd often had to do odd jobs on the side. But with two girls to watch over, it was difficult.

He had no family left to speak of. His parents had died when he was young, leaving him an orphan. He was raised by his uncle, an eccentric old scientist -- some would call him a mad scientist -- named Professor Scott B. Duba, but everyone had called him "Scuba" Duba behind his back, ever since his own days at college. Eventually, Scuba warmed to the nickname and began using it himself, in place of his real name. Uncle Scuba was a hard man to live with, never letting the boy forget that he hadn't been under any obligation to take the boy in, and that the boy had to pay his way in order to stay there by long days of hard work.

But something happened when Kevin was a lonely young boy that changed his life forever. One night in 1966, after a particularly grueling day of work cleaning his uncle's laboratory and doing odd chores around the house, Kevin decided to run away. Like most young boys who ran away, he hadn't planned where he would go. He just needed to get out of there. But his uncle's bedroom was near the front door, so the only escape route for him was the back door that went through the lab.

Kevin had tiptoed through the dark laboratory that night, trying to find the doorway by memory, and ended up crashing into something. Whatever he crashed into caused the lights in the lab to turn on, as well as activate his uncle's latest invention.

It was a curious experiment. Professor Duba had created a small figurine from a type of plasticized chemical of his own invention and placed it in a large glass bowl. On each side of it were special lamps, one that shone super-hypertensity white aura-light, while the other shone ultra-ebonized black light. The eccentric scientist, like a modern-day Dr. Frankenstein, believed that he could somehow bring the figurine to life if he could only discover the correct dosage of light beams to shine at it. To Kevin, it just looked like another of his uncle's crazy inventions that would never work.

But on that night in the summer of 1966, when Kevin Boyd caused the device to become activated, a miracle occurred that would change his life forever.

As the blasts of white and black light struck the plastic figurine, it began to change shape, to slowly grow, until it was the size of a full-grown man. Moreover, the figurine was wearing a stylized yellow and black costume that looked like something a comic-book character might wear, and it had a cartoonish face that looked almost shapeless, with just a mouth, two eyes, and eyebrows to give it any real definition. He looked just like a crash-test dummy come to life, complete with the black-and-yellow-checkered, circular crash-test logo. The logo, in turn, was a modification of the international maritime signal flag Lima, used to signal a vessel to stop immediately, but he would only learn that little fact a few years later while in high school.

Kevin was understandably shocked by this development, as he uttered, "It looks almost human now, yet it isn't! It... it's only a -- a shape!"

But he was positively astonished when the thing repeated his words. "Only... a shape..." Whatever his uncle had created, it was intelligent and able to mimic the sounds of the English language within only seconds of its creation, and could apparently understand it soon enough as well.

As a child, Kevin was able to accept this new, unexpected development much better than an adult in his situation might have, so he began to talk with the new creature, who proudly proclaimed himself to be Kevin's friend. The Shape, as he was called, then showed Kevin some tricks he could do, turning himself into a giant-sized bouncing ball and proceeding to bounce all over the lab.

The terrific racket caused by the living bouncing ball, of course, awoke his uncle, who stormed into the lab angrily, then quickly became excited to find out that his experiment had worked. But the Shape had sensed danger from the old scientist and fled through the window before Professor Duba could experiment on him. The Shape's intuition was correct, for the unpredictable old scientist was immediately angered that his creation would run away, and he called the authorities -- any authorities he could reach -- to proclaim the Shape as a menace to be destroyed.

Kevin tried to talk his uncle down, but he knew how crazy the old man could be, so he ran out of the house in pursuit of his new friend. He soon spotted the Shape escaping with feet that had turned into bicycle wheels, all thoughts of danger gone from his childlike mind as he enjoyed the sensation of rolling away. He went so fast that Kevin couldn't keep up with him, but winded as he was, the boy kept running after his friend.

By the time he found him, the Shape had already gotten himself into trouble. Spotting a couple of men at an electrical tower, he had approached the men in order to have the same kind of fun that they were having. But the men, unknown to him, were communist saboteurs from East Germany, sent there to cut off all power to a nearby U.S. Army base called Camp Kiljoy. The spies' plan was then to break into the base and steal secret missile plans that they knew were kept there.

Kevin arrived just in time to overhear the spies' conversation and witness the Shape inadvertently doing their job for them when he turned himself into a knife, then electrocuted himself on the wires, shorting them out as he cut them. As the spies ran off to their car to head for the base, Kevin rushed up to find his friend shaken, but relatively unhurt.

In fact, the only thing that appeared to have been hurt was the Shape's feelings, since he'd thought the men had played a mean trick on him. After Kevin quickly explained that the men were enemy spies, the Shape acted just as rapidly, turning his hand into a lasso that he used to capture them, then knocking them out. Kevin then told the Shape they needed to get to Camp Kiljoy as fast as possible to stop several other spies from carrying out their plans, as there were more than just the two they'd seen.

The Shape turned himself into a yellow and black horse -- like one seen on the ubiquitous cowboy TV shows and movies that were constantly playing on the television in the laboratory -- and Kevin jumped onto his back. Within a few minutes of riding, they arrived at Camp Kiljoy, where the Shape grew wings from his back and flew them over the fence like some kind of Pegasus. There they located a building that was conveniently labeled Headquarters of Secret Documents and lay in wait for the spies they knew were inside.

When the spies ran out to the getaway car they'd thought was left by their allies, they were surprised when the yellow and black convertible moved forward of its own accord and crashed into a tree, knocking them out cold. Kevin came out from behind the bushes he'd hidden in and congratulated the Shape on capturing the spies.

Unfortunately, before he could get the Shape to hide, all the lights came back on, and the area was flooded with soldiers. Kevin looked around and saw no sign of his friend anywhere, but only a small black and yellow knapsack. As the officers arrived and recognized the fallen men as the notorious spies Karl Mikten and Vic Facsh, whom they'd been trying to find for months, Kevin casually picked up the knapsack.

The soldiers were astonished, thinking that the little boy had captured these spies himself, but at that moment arrived Kevin's uncle, Professor Duba, in his tiny old car. Since the soldiers had seen no one there but the boy and the spies, the eccentric scientist's wild claims that a creation of his own called the Shape had helped Kevin capture the spies fell on deaf ears. The Professor took Kevin home, planning to use the boy as bait to capture the Shape himself for experimentation, not knowing that the Shape was right there on Kevin's shoulder in the form of that knapsack. (*)

[(*) Editor's note: See "It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's the Shape," Charlton Premiere v2 #1 (September, 1967).]

That was the first adventure the two best friends shared together, but it would not be the last. Over the next few years, as Kevin grew up, he and the Shape had a number of cases, fighting criminals, spies, and even the rare super-villain, all while keeping the Shape out of the clutches of his creator, Professor "Scuba" S. Duba.

Kevin often thought of his old friend, especially at times like these. But now wasn't the time to delve too deeply into the past. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and it was time for him to play Santa Claus. He knew his girls would be up by the crack of dawn, and he wanted to make sure everything was ready for them by the time they awoke.

Taking out the carefully wrapped presents from a shelf above his closet, where the girls couldn't reach them, Kevin laid each of the gifts under the elaborately decorated Christmas tree, artfully arranging them to make it look like more presents than they had ever seen. It was already past midnight, and he was exhausted as he took a look at the fully lit tree and all the gift beneath it before he switched off the lights and went to bed.

If he'd been just a little more clearheaded, Kevin Boyd might have noticed that one of the presents looked a bit different than the others. It was wrapped up in a ribbon and a bow like the presents next to it, but it wasn't sheathed in red, blue, or gold wrapping paper like the other Christmas gifts. It was yellow and black, and it seemed to shift slightly in place, as if in anticipation of being unwrapped on Christmas morning, if it could wait that long.

***

It was Christmas Eve in Hub City, but Angela Revere was in no hurry to go home. The young secretary with shoulder-length black hair and thick-rimmed glasses had felt like a prisoner in her own home for months now, ever since her uncle moved in with her. She knew that her dearly departed mother had never approved of her eccentric brother, and would never have allowed him to stay in their house. But Angela was all alone now, as both her mother and father had died a few years earlier, leaving her the family home, and a sizeable mortgage that she could barely afford with her receptionist job at Kord Industries.

When her uncle arrived in bad shape a few months earlier, beaten and bruised and looking like he was on death's doorstep, pleading for her help, Angela felt she had no choice. Stitching up and cleaning his wounds even as he cursed her out from the pain, she nursed him back to health and hoped that once he was back to normal he would move out.

That had been five months ago now, and he was still occupying her home. Not only that, but her uncle had taken over most rooms in the house with his experiments. He was a scientist who had turned to crime when Angela was still a child, and he remained a wanted man for numerous scientifically based crimes over the years. Thus, because he could not purchase the equipment he needed for his experiments, he forced Angela to do his dirty work for him.

But she soon proved unable to procure everything he needed through the usual channels, such as Radio Hut or local bankruptcy auctions, especially when she could hardly afford to put food on the table, let alone buy expensive electronics and chemicals. And that was when he suggested that she start taking things home from work. She was shocked at the idea that her uncle wanted her to steal from her employer, but each day that passed he kept pestering her, breaking down her resolve, until she finally acquiesced.

The first theft was a small one, just a circuit-switcher. But when she got away with stealing that little item, her uncle asked her for more. Now she was stealing a few items a week for her uncle, smuggling them home in her large purse, and she felt sick to her stomach about it. Her boss, Ted Kord, had been so good to her over the years, hiring her directly out of high school and offering her a job with great perks despite having no secondary education. She owed so much to Mr. Kord, and stealing from him made her feel like dirt. But her uncle never gave her a choice in the matter. As far as he was concerned, she owed him -- the whole world owed him, in fact -- and soon the world would pay everything they owed to him, and more.

Angela had delayed returning home for hours now. After working a half-day, she had gone out to walk around downtown for hours, just looking through the store windows at all the Christmas displays and listening to carolers singing songs at the Christmas tree display at City Hall. Inwardly, she had hoped in vain that some kind of Christmas spirit would come upon her, washing away her troubles at the same time like something out of a movie, but all it had done was to make her more miserable. She had already found herself in tears even as everyone all around her were laughing and singing songs of good cheer, something that had been lacking in her life for far too long now.

It was already dark by the time she drove into her driveway and walked into the house, the only one on the street with neither Christmas lights nor a Christmas tree to be seen. In fact, the curtains on all the windows were drawn and had been for a while now. It had been five months, in fact, since daylight had entered her home.

"Well?" her uncle's gruff voice came. "What took you so long, Darling?" He always called her that, but it never sounded endearing, since it was often followed by threats.

"I went out with a few of the girls from work, Uncle," Angela replied in the little girl's voice she always affected when speaking with him.

"Oh? Why is that?" he said, raising one eyebrow as he looked up from his work table -- her former coffee table modified with longer legs -- which was covered with several devices and various light-bulbs. "You didn't tell them anything about your dear old uncle, did you?"

"Of course not, Uncle!" she replied, a bit too quickly. "I..."

"Next time they invite you out," he interrupted as he tightened a screw in one of his makeshift devices, "just say no. I don't want you getting too close to any of them. I wouldn't want any 'friends' of yours to think they could drop by uninvited. Do I make myself clear?"

"I know, Uncle, I know," Angela said sadly. "We just went out because it's Christmas Eve."

"Eh? What's that? Speak up, Darling."

"It's Christmas Eve, Uncle," she replied.

"December 24th already," her uncle sighed. "I've lost track of things again. Well? Did you bring me what I asked for?" He chuckled to himself, a dry rasp that turned into a coughing fit. "Where's my, ah, 'Christmas present,' Darling?"

"It's here," said Angela, pulling an object from her large purse and handing it to him.

"Yes, yes, I do appreciate it, Darling," he said, inspecting the flashlight-like object. "Just as I appreciate your discretion. I'll remember it when the name of Doctor Spectro ascends once more to the heights of grandeur!" As he spoke his name, her uncle held the object up to the ceiling, shining upon it a green glow that increased in intensity as he adjusted a lever.

"Of course, Uncle," said Angela, doing her best to keep from tearing up again, "whatever you say."

[DocQuantum]

Chapter 2: In Bad Shape

The next morning, Kevin Boyd awoke from his slumber when his two little girls pounced up on his bed and started shouting, "Wake up, Daddy! Wake up! It's Christmas!"

Opening one bleary eye, Kevin glanced over to his window. It was still quite dark, with only a dim glow of a sun that still hadn't cracked over the horizon. "Don't you think it's a little early, girls?"

"It's Christmas morning, Daddy!" said Rachel, a redhead like her father, who was dressed in Blue Beetle pajamas. "You said we could open presents before breakfast!"

"Yeah, Daddy! You said, you said!" agreed her little blonde sister, Stacy, wearing Booster Gold Underoos.

"All right, all right," said Kevin with a smile. It wasn't like he was going to get any more sleep that morning, anyway.

Rachel and Stacy cheered and ran into the living room, where the glow from the Christmas tree was the only thing irradiating the room with any light. Kevin pulled on a housecoat and trudged to the kitchen to make a cup of instant coffee.

"Can I play Santa this year, Daddy?" asked Rachel.

"No, it's my turn!" complained Stacy.

"But you were Santa last year!" said Rachel, and the usual bickering began.

"Girls, girls, girls! Why don't you both play Santa?" Kevin shouted from the kitchen. Before they could protest any further, he added, "Or... we could wait until after breakfast, if you two can't get along."

He listened for a moment to the children whispering, until Rachel said, "We'll behave."

"Good," said Kevin, and grabbed his cup of black coffee. Sitting in the living room, he watched as Rachel and Stacy each tore into their presents, one by one.

His attention was focused on his girls' reactions to the gifts they'd received, and on writing down what each of the gifts were so the girls could write thank-you cards later on. But by the time they'd gotten around to the gifts behind the tree, Kevin began frowning as he spotted one particular gift box. He didn't remember wrapping anything in yellow and black or even having received any presents that looked like that at all. Something else was tugging at the back of his mind, something important that he should have remembered, but he didn't know what. It was simply too early in the morning to do much heavy thinking, and his mind was still fuzzy from lack of sleep.

And then, as Rachel reached for the large gift and began tugging at it, nudging it out from below the tree, it finally hit him.

Jumping out of his seat, Kevin spattered coffee onto the rug as he shouted, "Rachel -- Stacy -- get back!"

The yellow and black gift box suddenly began trembling and moving in place, and the girls' eyes widened in a mixture of fright and wonder as it seemed ready to explode. And then it did.

With a loud pop, the gift box burst open even as it changed into the shape of a full-size man-like figure in a yellow and black costume who looked just like a crash test dummy come to life.

"TA-DA-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!"

Kevin stood in his living room, dumbstruck at the sight before him. He knew at a glance that it was his old friend, the Shape -- it could be nothing and no one else -- but his first response at seeing a yellow-and-black-colored Christmas present transform into a full-sized humanoid was fear. After all, hadn't it been years since he'd seen the Shape in person, and even more years since they'd been constant companions? It was just so strange to see the Shape here, in a domestic setting that he had always maintained as a safe, protected zone for his daughters' sakes.

"Shape...?"

"Hiya, Kevin!" the Shape said, his arms outstretched and growing longer by the moment. Before Kevin realized what was happening, he found those rubbery arms wrapped completely around him, and then several more times around them both for good measure. "How have you been all these years, old buddy, old pal?!"

The Shape had squeezed his eyes closed as he hugged his old friend, and now opened them comically wide as he saw Rachel and Stacy, looking at the strange figure with something akin to shock and awe. "And who are these two little tots?" he said happily. "Why, Kevin, ol' pal -- have you become a daddy?!"

Kevin was finding it hard to adjust to everything that was happening. He'd lived a sedentary, quiet life for so many years that he'd forgotten that, wherever the Shape went, chaos always followed. His living room was no exception. "Uh, yes, yes, I have," he said. Motioning for his girls to come over to him, he indicated his oldest as he said, "This one is Rachel, and..."

"RACHEL?!" cried the Shape, turning into a huge ball and bouncing in place on the oak-panelled floor, creaking each time he rebounded. "That's an awesome name! I just love it!" The redheaded girl couldn't help but grin.

"A-and this one is Stacy, my youngest," he said, patting her head.

"STACY!" Switching back into his humanoid form, the Shape suddenly turned his right hand into a microphone and burst into song, singing his rendition of The Name Game. "Stacy, Stacy, bo bacey -- banana fanna fo facey -- fee fi mo macey... Sta-cy!"

The blonde girl laughed and began clapping. "Again! Again!"

"How did you fit in that little box?" Rachel asked him, her inquisitive young mind racing to find a logical explanation for the absurdity. "That's impossible!"

With a chuckle, the Shape replied, "Why, I can change my shape into anything! Squeezing into the shape of a small box is a piece of cake for the Shape!"

"So are you an action-hero," the redheaded girl asked, "like Blue Beetle?"

"I sure am, Rachel!" replied the Shape, suddenly posing with his hands on his hips as a black and yellow cape fluttered out from his shoulders. "The Shape is the name, and crime-fighting's my game... though I am also quite partial to Hungry Hungry Hippos if you ever want to play." He added with a wink of his button-like eye, "And I'm an old friend of your pop's, too!"

"Daddy, how come you never told us you knew any action-heroes?" Rachel said, almost accusingly.

"Well, sweetie, it was a long time ago, and I--"

"Can Mr. Shape please stay for breakfast, Daddy?" asked Stacy. "Can he, please?"

"Pleee-eee-eeease?" the two girls pleaded in unison as the Shape began frantically nodding his head, a comical grin spreading across his face.

"Well..." he began, taking stock of the scene for a moment, "...okay."

"YAYYY!" the two girls and the Shape cried out, and as the pliable hero reached out his black-gloved hands, he took each of them by the hand, and they started dancing crazily in a circle in what looked to be the weirdest game of Ring Around the Rosy Kevin could have imagined.

Without any prompting, the Shape immediately began playing with the two girls, their brand-new Christmas presents completely forgotten as Kevin Boyd trudged into the kitchen to cook up a serving of pancakes. Things seemed to be getting a bit out of control, but he wasn't sure what else he could do right now.

***

The criminal scientist who had called himself Doctor Spectro for so many years breathed heavily, having worked all through the night without ceasing on his latest invention. He was desperate now, for he knew his body only had a short time left. Feeling older than his years, he was succumbing to a disease that none of his treatments could cure, something that he had only uncovered after his recent brush with unexpected violence at the hands of a bunch of street punks who had thought him easy prey.

Where had it all gone so wrong? Why was his genius no longer enough to save himself?

Emery Thomas Specter's journey began innocently enough. As a child, he developed a fascination with color and its effects on his emotions. This led him to cultivate a deep interest in science, particularly inspired by the groundbreaking work of scientists like Albert Einstein and Thomas Edison. However, it was Nikola Tesla who captivated Emery the most. Tesla's groundbreaking research in electricity and transmission of power had revolutionized technology, providing the world with essentials like electricity and radio.

Driven by his passion for understanding the electromagnetic field, Emery not only studied the light spectrum but also devoted himself to specializing in it. Unfortunately, his pursuit of this particular field disappointed his family, who had hoped he would become an ordinary family doctor. Through medical school, Emery witnessed firsthand the limitations and failures of modern medicine, which prompted him to explore alternative approaches.

Conducting experiments on diseased animals and, controversially, a few human subjects, Emery became convinced that the visible light spectrum possessed the power to treat various ailments. He delved into explaining the profound impact of colors on human moods and how they could leverage the body's immune system and natural healing abilities. Yet, rather than receiving support and recognition from his peers, Emery faced ridicule and rejection.

Jealousy, combined with their inability to comprehend his unconventional reasoning, led fellow doctors and medical scientists to mock Emery relentlessly. Their efforts led to his termination from the hospital and the revocation of his medical license by the overseeing board.

Only years later would he learn that such authorities had been put into place by a certain power structure that funded all established medical schools and associations in order to keep producing and selling overpriced medicines that supposedly treated illnesses but in fact only turned patients into addicts who needed to take those medicines for the rest of their lives. Dr. Emery Specter was interested only in curing illnesses, not making money from human suffering as the pharmaceutical industry was.

Deprived of resources and allies, Emery sought assistance from established scientists and potential patrons, including medical technology firms and even the military. However, his pleas fell on deaf ears. Despite his undeniable brilliance and unwavering conviction, Emery lacked the charisma necessary to persuade closed-minded individuals of the truth.

Pushed out of the medical field and stripped of his financial security, Emery found himself in a desperate situation. He couldn't help but compare his predicament to that of Tesla's. When Tesla was swindled out of the millions owed to him, he had turned to unorthodox methods to continue his life's work.

In order to survive, Emery took on an assortment of odd jobs. However, he refused to abandon his beliefs regarding the healing potential of the visible light spectrum and their ability to influence emotions. Determined to prove his theories to a disinterested world, Emery was willing to explore unconventional avenues, no matter the cost.

Emery, bitter over his rejection by the scientific community, repurposed his experiments and equipment as a sideshow act. His eccentric nature and brusque personality perhaps benefited him when he presented the idea to the owner of a traveling circus. Using a form of his actual surname, the circus billed him as Doctor Spectro, Master of Moods, and set him up in a sideshow, complete with a black and white costume with rainbow-striped arms and legs.

Despite initially finding the act ridiculous, Emery aimed to use popular entertainment to educate the public about the importance of color and gain enough recognition to disregard the opinions of scientific and medical authorities. The audience responded positively to Doctor Spectro's display of colored light altering their moods, but there were also unbelievers who disrupted the show. Doctor Spectro used his emotion-manipulating power to silence them. Emery believed that his act could become more popular, allowing him to progress to larger stages and eventually television, where he could spread knowledge about the benefits of light and color, including potential cures for supposedly incurable diseases.

However, fate intervened when a criminal named Rodent approached Emery, offering him payment to act as a distraction for a bank robbery. Emery, aware of Rodent's true intentions, declined the offer and demanded that he leave. In response, Rodent punched Emery, causing him to stumble backward into his experimental apparatus. The prisms on Emery's wrists captured the light, and he was exposed to its refracted energy. The powerful red rays transformed him, focusing his hatred for the world that rejected him.

In that moment, Dr. Emery Thomas Specter died, and Doctor Spectro was born. Empowered by the absorbed light, Doctor Spectro vowed to show his newfound power to anyone who had ever laughed or mocked him. Rodent and his associates fled in fear as Doctor Spectro turned his rays on them. Fuelled by his bitterness, Spectro unleashed his white-hot rage to seek revenge. When another unsuspecting individual entered his tent, Doctor Spectro used dark green rays from his prisms to make the person fall ill. Determined to demonstrate his control over his own will, Doctor Spectro decided to carry out what Rodent had asked of him.

Ultimately, Emery's transformation into Doctor Spectro marked a turning point in his life. No longer content with being rejected, he sought to assert his power and mastery over others. The rejection from the scientific establishment had fueled his bitterness, and now, with his abilities, Doctor Spectro was ready to teach the world a lesson in power.

Outside the bank, Doctor Spectro used his body to cast vari-colored light-rays onto passersby, paralyzing them in fear. With a mere application of color and light, he commanded the crowd's response. Captain Atom attempted to intervene, but Spectro turned the crowd against the hero, making them hate their would-be savior. Ironically, Spectro, who sought to be humanity's savior through visible light, couldn't help but note the irony.

The inevitable confrontation between Doctor Spectro and Captain Atom ensued. The rabble served as a distraction from Spectro's battle with the representative of authority. Though Spectro had no hatred for Captain Atom specifically, seeing him as someone he was not, Spectro saw everything he believed he lacked in this gleaming figure. Captain Atom was a secret weapon known only to a few in the U.S. government at the time, and Spectro remained oblivious to his true identity. When Captain Atom was unveiled to the public the following year, he would be celebrated as the world's greatest hero, while Spectro would continue to be denied acclaim.

Their battle led them to a remote area away from anyone Spectro could manipulate, and Captain Atom made a grave mistake. In his desperation to end the battle before Spectro could prove his superiority, Captain Atom threw Spectro into high-tension power lines, playing into Spectro's hands. Spectro absorbed the immense electromagnetic power, surpassing all known human limits and becoming virtually unstoppable.

However, like Icarus flying too close to the sun, Spectro was too new to this world to understand his limitations. As he unleashed his full power of color and light, fueled by a lifetime of pent-up rage, his physical body burned up like an overloaded lightbulb. Doctor Spectro's light went out, leaving nothing but a multicolored spectrum passing through Captain Atom before dissipating.

Though it seemed Doctor Spectro was dead, he miraculously survived in a changed form. His consciousness existed in the electromagnetic spectrum, a ghost capable of haunting the world to the end of time. (*)

[(*) Editor's note: See "Doctor Spectro, Master of Moods," Captain Atom (Charlton) #79 (February-March, 1966).]

Still, that would not be the end of Doctor Spectro. No, he had far too much work to do to let such a thing as a lack of corporeal existence stop him. Then, as now, Spectro would return yet again, and this time he would show the world.

He chuckled to himself as he lost himself in his reveries, but something tugged at his thoughts as he tinkered with an electronics panel over the table, which was covered in old newspapers to protect its finish. A name in one of the headlines seemed to leap out at him, and finally pulled him forcefully back into the present.

Pushing the pieces of his new invention aside, he stood up from a chair and carefully pulled the oil-stained sheet of newspaper up off the table, allowing a few small screws to tumble to the floor. Those were the least of his concerns. The article he now began to scan for information with frantically moving eyes was all he cared about in the world at this moment.

A hideous grin formed on his face as, upon a closer reading, he found what he had sought in those printed words, and he exclaimed loudly, "This is it! Angie, Darling! I will be needing your help on this day of all days!"

[DocQuantum]

Chapter 3: Shape Up or Ship Out

As the holiday season had begun to approach, Kevin Boyd knew that this year's Christmas had to be extra special for his two daughters, Rachel and Stacy. It had been a challenging year for the slightly frazzled high school science teacher and single dad, and he wanted to make sure they had an unforgettable holiday.

With decorations adorning the house and the gift-wrapping season in full swing, Kevin couldn't wait to see the excited smiles on his little girls' faces. Little had he known that an unexpected twist awaited him, conveniently concealed inside a giant Christmas present. With the arrival of the Shape, his home had become a scene of chaos.

Now, as Kevin laid out a spread of pancakes topped with whipped cream and strawberries for his girls and their unexpected guest, he couldn't help but think back on the time he and the Shape had gone their separate ways all those years ago.

Just as all good things must someday come to an end, he was forced to say goodbye to his childhood friend when the eighteen-year-old Kevin headed off to college. Kevin had realized that he needed to forge a life of his own, away from the crazy life of an action-hero, and by that time the Shape had become ready to find his own way in the world without his guidance.

Twenty years ago, when the Shape had first inexplicably come to life like some rubbery Frosty the Snowman, his speech had been limited to simple, short words and phrases that he'd picked up from Kevin and his uncle. Back then he had sounded like a toddler just learning his first words, and in a way that was exactly what he'd been. In the years since then, however, he'd mastered the English language and a few others besides, and had picked up many colloquialisms in order to fit in better with people. The Shape had also attained a great sense of humor along the way and liked to use it as much as possible in order to make people laugh. It was the best way he'd found to make new friends. Of course, the Shape often went a bit too far and could seem positively manic at times, as if Robin Williams had been given super-powers. He just hoped his girls wouldn't be too scared of this odd cartoon character come to life.

Even though his broken English had improved over the years, the Shape never lost his childlike enthusiasm for living life and finding fun wherever he was, constantly living out the TV scenes he had seen while being shaped back in the laboratory while under those special lights. If anything, Kevin had always been the more mature one in their friendship. Although the Shape hadn't really made much of a name for himself as an action-hero like the members of the Sentinels of Justice, Kevin had always believed him capable of being the equal of any of their number, and more. The Shape simply needed his independence, and Kevin knew he was only holding him back.

Tearfully, the two had parted ways, and Kevin's life over the next four years became an intense mixture of study and socialization with fellow students. It wasn't easy for the young man, since his only real friend throughout childhood had been the Shape. So when it came down to making friends and meeting girls, Kevin often found himself being taken advantage of by people who preyed on his kind of naïve good nature.

In the decade since then, Kevin had graduated and then slowly built a career and family for himself out in California. This past summer his plans had been interrupted by the death of his Uncle Scuba and the old estate that was left to him in his will. After the funeral, Kevin ended up moving back into his old house on the outskirts of Hub City with his young daughters, quickly and amazingly landing a teaching job at a local high school before the fall semester. The old laboratory at the back of the house had been under lock and key ever since, until he could find enough time to deal with it between raising two young children and working as a teacher at an inner city high school in a bad neighborhood.

Days ago when his Christmas break began, Kevin had started wondering what had become of his old friend. The Shape was still a very low-profile action-hero, but occasionally Kevin heard his name in the news. Last year, during the strange events that everyone called the Crisis on Infinite Earths, he had spotted the Shape in a news photograph battling the Shadow Demons that had seemed to be everywhere. But he hadn't heard much of anything about his old friend since then, and he'd wondered why.

With the recent resurgence of action-heroes, particularly the Sentinels of Justice over the last couple of years, Kevin Boyd had wondered if the Shape would eventually be invited to join the team. He may not have been as high-profile as the Blue Beetle or Captain Atom, but he knew the Shape was just as capable as those big-name crime-fighters. He still believed in his hero.

As an adult, Kevin had also often wondered if the true facts of the Shape's origin were really known to him. How likely was it that a chemically treated figurine created by his eccentric uncle could come to life merely through a simultaneous application of white and black light? He knew his uncle had never been successful with his inventions before, so what had made the Shape so different? And how had the Shape been able to pick up language so quickly and easily, not to mention learn about all the types of shapes he became in those early days? The Shape had become a horse without ever seeing one, for example, almost as if he had plucked the idea right out of his memory. Sure, the television was always on, but that was before the Shape had even been brought to life or had any real sensory organs. Nothing about the Shape's origin made any scientific sense at all.

While in college he had become quite a reader, and Kevin had come across the idea of the homunculus, a popular concept in alchemy in the sixteenth century. The alchemist Paracelsus first spoke of a homunculus, a miniature creature created in the form of man, but besides the general idea, the Shape's origin was supposed to be rooted in science, not alchemy. Professor Duba had always been eccentric enough to take his inspirations from disparate sources, so why not alchemy? However, the idea of the homunculus was just that -- an idea. Paracelsus had only theorized what was possible, and as far as Kevin knew, no one had ever successfully created one. Anyway, the idea was scientifically absurd; the human brain alone was far too complex to duplicate through such primitive methods.

Kevin had also considered the possibility that the Shape's origins lay elsewhere in the universe. Could his uncle have recovered an extraterrestrial creature from a fallen UFO and restored it to life? If the Shape was a highly intelligent alien whose shape-changing abilities were paired with slight telepathy, it would certainly explain why he was able to absorb a complex language so quickly. Although the Shape spoke very simply at first, like a young child, he quickly grasped the complexities of English and soon mastered it, though occasionally he still lapsed back into his early speech patterns. His lack of any earlier memories could be explained by the trauma of having "died" or at least gone into a deathlike state upon crashing on Earth. And that led to another question: if the Shape was an extraterrestrial, could there be others like him on Earth, and would they be friends or foes to humanity?

But these thoughts passed out of Kevin's mind as he tried to focus on the present. It was Christmas Day, and he had two young daughters to think of. His own adventures with the Shape were long since over, even if his old pal had just now dropped by for a long-overdue visit.

And as he watched the boundless enthusiasm that the Shape still had, Kevin just felt tired. It had been many, many years since he and his old friend had gone on their adventures, and he'd forgotten just how much energy it took to keep up with the Shape. Even his girls had begun tiring themselves out after having pony rides on the Shape's back that soon turned into kangaroo, turtle, and train rides throughout the house. It was exhausting just trying to keep up with the spectacle of it all. But now, with breakfast finally made, he hoped things could settle down for a little while.

As his girls and the Shape sat down at the kitchen table, Kevin served each of them their pancakes, then turned on the radio, tuning it to an AM station playing Christmas Oldies. Rachel and Stacy had already become fast friends with the Shape, and they now constantly competed for his attention, resulting in a never-ending chatter that Kevin could barely keep up with. Christmas Day was already getting out of hand, and his stress level was rising quickly.

"What am I doing?" he muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to regain control over his emotions. "Get it together, Kevin!"

When he opened them, he realized that the room had become quiet, and the others were all looking at him. Stacy giggled.

"Are you okay there, buddy?" asked the Shape.

"Daddy, why did you close your eyes like that?" laughed Rachel. "You looked so silly!"

Oh, my gosh! They're always watching me and everything I do -- and now there's three of them! thought Kevin. That's it. I've got to put my foot down and get some order back in this house!

"Okay, kids, you've had your fun with Mr. Shape, but I'm sure he has places to go, and people to see," said Kevin. "As soon as everyone's done breakfast, we can say our goodbyes and let Mr. Shape go back to doing real action-hero stuff."

The Shape was already shaking his head. "No, no, I don't have anywhere to be right now, old buddy! I came here to see you guys!"

"Well, you've seen me and the girls," said Kevin. "And now you ought to get going before you overstay your welcome."

"Awww..." began Rachel, while Stacy began to bawl. The Shape just looked shocked.

Well, that could've gone better, Kevin thought to himself. He was beginning to feel a bit sheepish for turning out his old friend so soon after his arrival, but he'd already made his decision, for better or for worse.

Just then, the doorbell rang, providing a very welcome interruption.

"I'll get it!" cried Rachel, and began running for the door.

"NO!" Kevin shouted, causing her to stop in her tracks. "I'll get the front door. You and Stacy go find Shape somewhere to hide. I don't want anyone to know he's here." The girls both nodded, and he turned back to the door. "Who could be making house calls on Christmas Day, anyway?" he grumbled under his breath.

When he opened the door, he found himself momentarily speechless. For standing there was a pretty young woman with short dark hair and pink-tinted, wide-rimmed glasses. Others might have dismissed her as a mousey secretary, but to Kevin Boyd she was absolutely gorgeous. "H-hello?" he stammered, a strange smile creeping over his face. "Uh, how can I help you?"

The young woman smiled bashfully herself and said, "Hi, are you Kevin? Kevin Boyd?"

He nodded.

"Good, good!" she replied cheerfully. "I'm Angela -- Angela Revere -- and I work for Kord Industries. I understand you've inherited a fully stocked chemical laboratory from your uncle. My condolences on your loss, by the way."

"What?" asked Kevin, confused. "Oh, yes, right. Well, that was months ago. We weren't all that close, anyway."

"Be that as it may, Kord is always on the lookout for cutting-edge scientific breakthroughs of the kind your late uncle was known for," continued Angela. "Tell me, Mr. Boyd, would you have any interest in divesting with the lab? Say the word, and we could present you with a sizeable offer. You wouldn't have to do a thing. We would take care of the rest. I'm sure you'd be glad to have it off your hands after all this time."

"Well, yes, that would be nice," agreed Kevin, rubbing his disheveled hair with one hand and realizing he was still in his pajamas. "Uh, can you give me some time to think about it?"

"Oh, of course, Mr. Boyd," she continued. "Take all the time you need. I can leave you my number, if you wish."

"S-sure, sure," Kevin stammered. "Let me go grab a pen." Angela smiled warmly and turned to look in the other direction as Kevin closed the door halfway, then ran into his kitchen to grab a notepad and a pen.

However, as he did so, he couldn't help but notice how quiet the house had become.

"That's weird..." he muttered to himself. "The girls are never this quiet unless they're up to no good, and as for the Shape, he's never quiet at all... well, hardly ever."

Kevin poked his head around the corner and said, "Sorry, I'll be another minute. Can you wait?"

"No problem!" Angela said at the door. "I'll be right here."

"Great!" he replied, and went to the girls' rooms one by one, only to find them empty. As he went through the rest of the house, he discovered that they weren't in any other room, either. Finally, he checked the back door leading to the backyard and found it not only unlocked but partly open.

Grabbing a coat, Kevin stepped out into the backyard and called out, "Rachel...? Stacy...? Shape...? Where are you hiding? I'm getting worried!"

He listened for a few more moments, looking around at the bushes lining the fence and expecting to hear the snicker of his girls that always revealed their position during a game of hide and seek. But he heard nothing out there. It was eerily quiet, even for this early in the morning. "Where in the world are they?"

If anything, this was all the proof he needed that the Shape's visit was a bad influence on his children. He wasn't happy about it, but he had to send the Shape packing as soon as possible.

[DocQuantum]

New chapters below!

[DocQuantum]

Chapter 4: Bent Out of Shape

A few minutes earlier, the curious Shape had led Rachel and Stacy into the familiar, darkened old laboratory behind Kevin Boyd's house. This was Professor Duba's lab, the place where he had been born and where his earliest memories had been made. As they came flooding back to him, the girls noticed how distracted he had suddenly become.

"Shape?" asked Rachel. "You okay?"

"Oh... sure, sure," said the Shape, pulling himself out of his sad reverie. "Just remembering old times. Now, let's keep playing hide and seek!"

But all three of them suddenly froze in place as they heard a loud clanking sound, like metal being snapped. The Shape, putting a finger up to his lips, shushed the girls and hastily gestured for them to find a hiding spot.

As Rachel and Stacy scurried behind a cluttered shelf, the metallic clank of the garage door lock being broken echoed through the large laboratory room. The artificial man focused his eyes on the source of the disturbance.

The garage door creaked open, revealing three miscreants behind the break-in: a brawny strongman, a short, mustachioed crook, and a wiry-looking cowboy. Armed with flashlights, they entered the lab like a trio of scavengers engaging in a brazen morning robbery on the outskirts of town.

"All right, boys, start grabbin' anything that looks valuable!" the dapper-looking short man barked to the other two. "An' be quick about it!" The room was soon filled with the clatter of stolen scientific equipment being loaded into the moving truck parked just outside.

Amidst the chaos, the dapper man's flashlight unwittingly spotlighted the odd figure of the Shape, a living crash-test dummy standing in a typical heroic pose, with feet wide apart and his arms akimbo.

"What the--?!" the crook exclaimed. "Who the heck is this clown?"

"I am the action-hero known only as the Shape," the artificial man declared with a hint of theatricality. "And you gentlemen are trespassing! I don't think my friend Kevin would be too pleased if you took any of his rightful belongings."

Undeterred, the dapper-looking crook merely narrowed his eyes and ordered to the other two, "Drop that stuff an' get 'im, boys!"

The big ox named Bruno moved toward the Shape. "You think you can stop me?" The strong enforcer then threw a haymaker that would have knocked out any normal man. Instead, the pliable hero twisted his neck at the last minute and dodged the punch.

"Nice try, pal," cried the Shape. "But I'm no pushover!"

"Look at this bozo!" said the cowboy known as Nevada, who made an attempt of his own as he tried to choke the hero from behind with a bundle of rope. Rather than let himself be choked out, the Shape simply disjointed his head and let it fall to the ground, where it quickly rejoined the rest of his rubbery form.

"Now that's just plain mean!" the Shape said. "What did I ever do to you, cowboy?"

"This weirdo can't take on all three of us together!" cried the short mustachioed man known as Dapper Dan. And the three crooks then launched themselves at the Shape in a coordinated assault.

The Shape contorted into various forms -- dodging, twisting, and morphing -- but the numerical advantage of the crooks proved overwhelming even to his artificial form.

In a choreographed beatdown from the gang of three, the Shape was eventually subdued under the pummeling of his three relentless antagonists intent on knocking him out lest he take them to jail.

"An' that's what you get for meddlin', hero!" growled Nevada.

As the Shape lay defeated before them, Dapper Dan had an idea. "Hey, boys, why not bring 'im with us? The boss might have a use for this freak show," he declared with a sly grin.

Unbeknownst to the crooks, Rachel and Stacy had observed the entire ordeal from their concealed nook behind a shelf. Shocked by his defeat, but still determined to aid their newfound friend, they exchanged whispers.

"We've gotta help Shape," Rachel insisted, her eyes gleaming with determination.

"Yeah," Stacy said, nodding in agreement. "What should we do?"

Rachel frowned in thought, then said to her little sister, "Let's sneak into their truck."

"Okay," said Stacy, and the two girls began sneaking through the lab unseen as the crooks kept loading stolen equipment into the truck.

As the crooks worked together to load a particularly large piece on the truck, the two young sisters seized the opportunity to sneak into the truck's cargo area, hiding themselves behind the scientific apparatus already there. The crooks, oblivious to the stowaways, slammed the truck door shut and sped away into the night.

Inside the cramped space, Rachel and Stacy huddled close to the unconscious Shape. "We're going to save you, Mr. Shape -- we promise!" Rachel whispered, her eyes filled with bravery.

But the unconscious action-hero merely stirred in his sleep, dead to the world.