"Games"

[pauljmsn]

GAMES

By Paul E. Jamison[/center]

PROLOGUE, Part 1

Four years ago

It was a lovely day to fly. Visibility and ceiling were unlimited, so the sky was a deep blue and unbroken by a single cloud. He was at about 15,000 feet, his favorite altitude for long-distance flying, and he was watching the green Dakota plains roll along far below him.

People were always asking Superman: “Why the cape?” He had to admit that there was no good answer. Batman wore his cape for several reasons: gliding capability; bullet-proofing; an effective weapon with the weights sewn in the hem; and, above anything else, good old-fashioned psychology. The Shadow of the Bat was enough to frighten any criminal and quite a few of the Good Guys. As powerful as Superman was, there were times when Batman’s silhouette gave him the willies.

But his own cape – it was showmanship, nothing more. Clark Kent had attended a circus in Smallville when he was a mere lad and had been enthralled by the high-wire acrobats. They all had worn gaudy pink and blue capes with gold-lamé trim, and he’d thought that that was the coolest thing in the world. When the time came to put together a costume, he’d stayed away from the gold lamé and had gone with simple red, with the sign of the House of El as the only decoration. But he had to have a cape. It was at times like this that he simply flew along and enjoyed the way that the cape flapped out behind him. What was wrong with showmanship?

A lot has been written about Superman’s powers and abilities, some of it greatly exaggerated. Lois had taken great joy in a recent article in some puff-piece celebrity magazine that had said, in all seriousness, that he could hear a sparrow fall from a tree on the other side of the Earth. That was nonsense, of course. Even if his hearing, acute as it was, could extend all the way around the curve of the Earth, there was far too much noise in between for him to hear a thousand squawking condors using a thousand megaphones, much less the peep from a little bird. Even if he could hear such a thing, there wasn’t much he could do about it from half a world away.

But now, at 15,000 feet in an otherwise empty sky, it was easy for Superman to notice something else sharing the airspace, even something several miles away. Like, say, what appeared to be a small animal falling through his altitude, heading straight for Dakota farmland.

Superman turned his attention to the creature. It was – a weasel?!

His first gut reaction was pure farmboy. Pa Kent hated weasels because they were always getting into the henhouse and stealing eggs. But Superman couldn’t just ignore this one. There was no sense in letting an animal die if it could be rescued. So he turned and followed it down. Besides, maybe he could find a clue to what it was doing up here.

He got closer and realized that it wasn’t a weasel, but a ferret. Nice-looking creature, a Sable, he thought it was called. It was tumbling down at terminal velocity, and he could hear the heart still beating.

Superman quickly matched the ferret’s downward velocity and scooped it into his hands. The ferret stared up at him wide-eyed.

Superman smiled and said, “Easy there, little fella, I’ve got you. Now where did you come from, I wonder?”

The ferret replied, “Please don’t patronize me, sir.”

Superman had seen some strange things and had met some remarkable creatures in his time, but this startled him. Thankfully, he didn’t drop the ferret.

Something tickled at the back of his mind. “Oh, that’s right, there are talking ferrets out there! I’m terribly sorry!”

“Mustela sapiens, yes. That’s all right. I do appreciate the save, thank you so much. My name is Constable Murphy of the RCMP. And I know who you are.”

“Oh! That Constable Murphy! I’ve heard good things about you! It’s an honor to finally meet you, Constable! Only… um… why are you up here?”

“I’ve been doing undercover work with an agent of the Canadian Security Intelligence Service. He’s posing as a very eccentric Canadian drug dealer who travels everywhere with his pet ferret –” Murphy touched his neck; he was wearing a collar marked with the word PONGO. “– which is why I’m stuck with this abomination. Up until a few minutes ago I was with my, um, master in the private jet of a Mexican drug lord. Then Agent Bonehead of the CSIS blew our cover. The drug lord had me tossed out first just to be mean.”

Superman was looking above. “Cessna Citation X at about 20 thou? Heading South-Southwest?”

“That’s the one.” Cradling Murphy in his hands, Superman began to climb.

They were soon close enough that the jet was clearly visible. Murphy said, “Agent Idiot at least was putting up a fight when I left, but he was outnumbered, so I figure he’ll be on his way down soon – ah, here he comes now.”

“I’ll get him.” Superman cocked his head to one side and listened. “I’m afraid he’s not taking it very well.”

“Can’t say as I blame him, really.”

By the time Superman snagged him, the undercover agent had passed out. Superman shifted the man and the ferret around to more comfortable positions and resumed climbing after the jet.

Murphy asked, “So, what now? I take it you’re going to do something about the baddies?”

“Sure am.” Superman narrowed his eyes and gazed at the jet above. Despite what the cartoons and comics try to tell you, Superman’s Heat Vision is not visible to the human eye. It didn’t look like he was doing anything beyond staring. But, suddenly there was a bright flash within the left-hand engine, followed by a cloud of dark smoke. A few moments later, the same thing happened to the right-hand engine.

“There. Now they’ve got no way to go but down. If the pilot’s any good, they’ll just glide. I’ll put you and your colleague down on the ground and come back for them.”

“Sounds fine to me. Again, thank you very much for the rescue.”

“You’re quite welcome, Constable.”

“Call me Murphy.”


Three years ago

Lois leaned back in her window seat and let out a contented sigh. Of the many perks she got as a star reporter for the “Daily Planet”, traveling First-Class had to be the best. Granted, she also had access to what could be considered even more exclusive air travel – literally one-to-one service – but honestly, it wasn’t as comfortable as this. Whenever she flew by the other method, it involved being wrapped up in that red cape of his to keep out the cold, and as often as not she required bottled oxygen. She appreciated the intimacy of traveling with him, but for long-term trips this was much better.

Lois stretched out her legs and slipped off her shoes. She wouldn’t have wanted to do that if she’d been flying Coach. Theoretically it could be done, but there was always the possibility that some angelic little girl with curly blonde hair might steal her shoes and gleefully run up and down the aisles waving them around; she knew this from experience. However, she certainly couldn’t complain this time.

A smiling flight attendant came by and leaned over the aisle seat. “Are you comfortable, Ms. Lane?”

“Oh, yes. I’m quite fine, thank you. I’m getting settled in.”

Lois noticed that the attendant was carrying something. It looked like an infant carrier for a car. The attendant began to fit it to the aisle seat. “I’m getting things ready for your seatmate, Ms. Lane. I hope you don’t mind.”

Lois wasn’t sure how she felt about sitting next to a young child, but she figured it couldn’t be too bad; hopefully it wouldn’t be old enough to want to steal her shoes. But then she realized that the seat wasn’t quite the right size and shape for a child of any age.

The attendant finished attaching the seat and turned to speak to the floor. “May I pack your hat in the overhead bin, Constable?”

A high-pitched voice replied, “That would be fine, Ma’am.” Lois stared as a small paw held up a miniature version of a campaign hat. The flight attendant placed it in an overhead bin and stepped back.

Lois was astonished when a ferret in a red serge uniform leapt up into the small seat. It turned to her and said, “How do you do? I know you – you’re Lois Lane!” It held out a paw. “I’m pleased to meet you. Constable Murphy at your service!”

Lois recognized him then. “Of course! Of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police! I’m delighted to meet you!” They shook hand and paw.

The ferret settled down and the flight attendant made a bit more fuss over him as he buckled in. After she’d moved on, Murphy said, “It looks like we’re stuck sitting together until we reach Sydney. I’m hope you have no objections.”

“None whatever. I’ve heard quite a bit about you and this is an honor. Do you have business in Australia?”

“A bit. I’ll only be staying a few days, though. Then I’ll be heading for Tokyo to attend an international conference on law enforcement. I’ll be representing the RCMP’s Ferret Division. I take it you have reporter stuff to do in Australia?”

“Yes, I’m doing a little journalistic investigation in the Outback. Nothing I can talk about, you realize.”

“Understood. I’m a little surprised that you’re travelling alone. I’d have thought that your husband would want to go with you.”

“He wanted to, but it didn’t work out. Clark has some business to attend to himself. He said he’d try to catch up when he could.”

“I see. Well, in the meantime, I shouldn’t be too bad of a travel companion. Some of my friends say I snore, but they may just be teasing me about that.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

Within half an hour the Boeing 747-8 was climbing away from LA International and heading out over the Pacific. Two hours later, Lois was reading the latest Carl Hiaasen while Murphy was listening to some Japanese language tapes on his Walkferret®. That’s when four men with big guns came into First Class.

People began to scream as one man, a hard-looking American with a holstered pistol and a semiautomatic machine gun, strode to the front of the cabin. How he’d gotten his weapons onboard was anyone’s guess. He waved the semiautomatic around and shouted, “Alright, this is what is known as a hijack situation! Settle down, people, or bad things will happen!”

Another armed man joined him. This one was Arabic. He had the hard look and tough attitude of a man that the State Department sometimes referred to as a “Freedom Fighter” or a “Terrorist”, depending.

His eyes swept the cabin. He didn’t look like he approved of what he saw. He said, in heavily-accented English, “I am Amjhejy. I and my colleagues represent the Qurac Separatist Movement, and we have taken over control of this aircraft for the furtherance of our holy cause. Our goal is to break away from the puppet forces that now rule Qurac under the control of the Western governments. I know that you soft creatures do not respect that cause –” He looked at the American standing next to him. “– Indeed, some of our fellow soldiers, like Mr. Trask here, are only in this for monetary gain. But you can be useful to us in achieving our aims. You and everyone else on this aircraft are now hostages. If your weak governments do as we say, you will not be harmed. If they care so little about their subjects, which is a possibility, you will suffer. For now, do as you’re told and you will not get hurt.”

Lois murmured, “Oh, dear, another one.”

Murphy leaned over and whispered, “This doesn’t happen all the time, does it?”

Lois replied, “Oh, no, not really. But it’s happened before with me. One of those things, I guess.”

“Ah. Do you expect to be rescued?”

“I’ve always been so far, Constable. For now, my suggestion is to keep your seat belt fastened.”

“You, woman!” Amjhejy and Trask strode over to her. The Quracan said, “You will keep quiet, or an example will be made of you! Do you –”

“Urrk!!”

Amjhejy looked at Trask. He was surprised to see that the mercenary had gone pale. The Quracan asked, “What is wrong?”

Trask pointed and sputtered, “That – that’s Lois Lane!”

Amjhejy shook his head.

“Lois Lane! The reporter for the ‘Daily Planet’!”

Amjhejy looked at Lois and smiled. “Ah, yes, the American newspaper. Well, then, she will be useful to us. You, woman, will be spared. You will write messages to your government –”

Trask interrupted. His voice was quavering. “You don’t understand! That’s Lois Lane! She’s – she’s a friend of Superman!!”

Amjhejy stared at him for a moment, and then threw his head back and roared. “Superman? The mighty Man of Steel? The one who they say can bend iron bars with his bare hands? The one who can fly?” He laughed again. “Do you seriously think that we of Qurac really believe in this Western fairy tale?” Amjhejy removed his pistol from its holster and held it up. There was menace in his voice as he said, “Let this Superman come and try to rescue you! We will see how he reacts to a bullet between the eyes!”

Murphy said, “You’d be surprised.”

The Quracan stared down at the Mountie as if he were seeing him for the first time and bared his teeth. He hissed, “A talking animal? The Demon’s pet! You heathen Americans dare to keep such animals?”

“Hey, I’m nobody’s pet!”

Amjhejy pointed to Murphy and calmly said, “Trask, shoot it.”

The mercenary looked at Murphy for a moment, then at Lois. She didn’t seem too disturbed by this. Trask shrugged his shoulders and pulled out his own pistol. He pointed it right at the ferret’s small skull.

Murphy simply said, “I know Superman, too.”

Amjhejy couldn’t quite follow what happened next. The gun disappeared quickly back into the holster, and Trask stepped back; his eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of his head.

Amjhejy sneered at the man. “And you told me that you and your men were strong. I should have known differently. You’re as weak as all Westerners.” He held up his own gun. “Very well. I shall have to do this – ungh!!”

The cabin ceiling had now become the cabin floor. Trask, Amjhejy and the other two gunmen hit the ceiling hard, along with several other passengers who weren’t buckled up. Lois and Murphy, however, calmly hung from their seat belts. Murphy said, “Pity about the other passengers.”

The aircraft suddenly righted itself and people tumbled to the floor. Lois replied, “They’ll be alright. It could well have been worse. They never complain.”

The airliner was soon on the ground in Hawaii, far more quickly than the 747 was designed for. The door was opened and Superman checked for injuries and rounded up the hijackers. The mercenaries and the terrorists gave no resistance, except for Amjhejy. When Superman approached him, the Quracan screamed something about his righteous cause and swung at him with a wicked-looking knife. Soon the blade was broken and Amjhejy was looking very confused.

It was some time before Superman could greet Lois and Murphy. He smiled down at the ferret and said, “Hello, Murph! Fancy meeting you here!”

Murphy nodded. “Good to see you again, Supes. We always seem to be running into each other at altitude. Not that I’m complaining this time, either. Thanks for another save.”

“You’re welcome. Ms. Lane, pleased to see you again.”

“And you. It seems like you’re always pulling my fat out of the fire, too. And I’m definitely not complaining.”

“I’m here to help, you know that.”

It was only for a brief instant, but Murphy noticed a look that passed between Lois and Superman. Nothing was said, and the look didn’t last long. But he’d seen that look before, and he knew what it meant. Murphy silently wondered if Clark Kent knew about this. He said nothing to either of them.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that Murphy recalled pictures he’d seen of Clark Kent and thought to compare them with Superman. Then he realized that Clark did know. Of course he did.

Murphy chuckled. A pair of glasses evidently made for a very effective disguise.


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

PROLOGUE, Part 2

Two years ago…

The little bundle in Clarissa’s arms began to squirm. The Cinnamon ferret stopped and lifted one corner of the blanket to look.

Two ruby-red eyes looked back at her. They seemed far too big for the tiny body covered in white fur. The baby ferret gave her a big, open-mouthed smile.

She couldn’t help but smile back. Such beautiful red eyes. They’d only been open for a few days. His father would have loved them.

She held Little Levi up and gave him a gentle kiss. She wished that Albert could be here to see his son’s eyes.

The car accident that had taken her husband – and her Father – away had only been a few weeks ago. The Rabbi had said that grief for loved ones would not – should not – ever go completely away, but that eventually it would fade to something bearable. For now the pain was still strong.

The uncertainty about the accident angered and frustrated her. A human had come across the wreck several miles outside of Kingman and had found Papa and Albert; he could do nothing for them but call 911, and almost immediately a ferret emergency vehicle had reached the scene, followed closely by human vehicles. The two bodies had been taken to the Skippy Compound nearby, and someone had towed away the wreck. Clarissa had found the Skippys to be kind and helpful. The autopsies established that there had been nothing wrong with Albert; his driving was obviously not at fault. But no one could determine what had happened, as the car had completely disappeared. It still hadn’t been found.

Clarissa was walking south along the 300 block of North Main Street in Wichita. She’d just been visiting the Sedgwick County Courthouse for the umpteenth time in several days, but the Sheriff’s office still hadn’t been able to tell her anything. At least the stupid deputy wasn’t implying drunken behavior on Albert’s part anymore; from what she’d heard later, the Sheriff had given the deputy a thorough bawling out for such insensitivity. Clarissa received some satisfaction from that.

On the way from the Courthouse, Clarissa had stopped at the branch office for the Skippy’s attorneys, located just off Main on 3rd Street. They were much more sympathetic than the humans, although they hadn’t been able to help much, either. The Skippys were combing the entire county of Sedgwick looking for the wrecked car, but there were too many places that it could be, and that was just counting the junkyards. Skippy assured her that they would find her husband’s car, even if it took years. Clarissa realized that he’d meant it.

Now she was walking down Main to meet the Rabbi’s mother Miryam at the public library. It had helped so much to talk with Sammy. Such a fine Rabbi he makes. And his friends and family had been wonderful, too. Miryam had invited her to celebrate Hanukkah with them in a month, and Clarissa was definitely going to accept.

Just ahead of her now was the Occidental Building. The building was a favorite of Clarissa’s; it still looked like it had when it was built in 1874, back when people put a lot of craftsmanship into structures. In a few moments she’d be walking under the portico.

Across the street there came the sound of breaking glass. Clarissa looked across at the high-rise Epic center building. There were a couple of humans staring at some glass in the middle of the sidewalk. She looked up.

At about the 20th floor, a human had broken out some window glass, and now he was leaning out and he was holding – a rifle?!

There was the sound of a shot, and a window in the Occidental shattered. Clarissa dropped to the ground. People screamed and began to run. A second shot, and a car window was broken.

Another shot, and another. People ducked behind cars and in doorways. Clarissa looked around. She was next to a parking lot – right out in the open. The Occidental was too far away, and so was a bench in the opposite direction. Clarissa and her baby had nowhere to hide.

She looked up at the Epic. The sniper was looking down at her.

The little bundle began to whimper. Clarissa put as much of her own body between Levi and the gunman. There was nothing else she could do. “Please, God,” she murmured, “Please let my baby live.”

The gunman swung the rifle around to point directly at Clarissa. She couldn’t – she wouldn’t – turn her head away from him. She wondered if she’d have time to hear the gunfire.

There was a shot.

Clarissa saw a blur of blue and red appear between her and the building. It took her a moment to realize that the bullet had never reached her.

The sniper fired more shots. The blue-and-red blur seemed to be all over the place, and none of the shots hit a living target.

Actually, all of the bullets hit one living target, for all the good that they did.

The blur became a human floating in midair, directly in front of the sniper’s window. There was a breeze up at that level, and the human’s red cape was flapping briskly behind him. The gunman gaped at him a moment, then began firing round after round at him, point blank. The flying man didn’t move an inch. He just stood there – perhaps floating was a better word – with his arms folded and let the bullets bounce off. They hit the building, however, and when another window broke, he grabbed the gunman and pulled him out of the building.

Superman swooped down and made a flying pass along Main to check for damage, while dangling the sniper below him. He stopped right above Clarissa and began to ask, “Is anyone –”

The gunman swung his rifle around and slammed the stock directly into Superman’s face.

There was a loud crack, and Superman started over. “Is anyone hurt?”

All Clarissa could do was to shake her head.

“Good. I have to go.” Clarissa watched as Superman turned and flew toward the County Courthouse. The sniper was still flailing at Superman with his rifle, which was doing it no good whatsoever.

Levi was crying now, and Clarissa hugged him closer. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the flying man in blue and red.


Nine months ago…

Like many a traditional Jewish wedding, this one was followed by days of parties and dinners for the couple’s family and friends. The first human/ferret get-together was two days after the wedding itself. For this occasion, special arrangements had to be made. A series of tables, chest-high to a normal human, were scattered around the reception hall. With these, the ferret guests could visit with the humans without getting stiff necks from looking up all the time; it was also a good way to avoid getting stepped on by a drunken two-legs.

It was a sizable crowd of both humans and ferrets. The bride and groom had many friends of both persuasions, some quite well-known. There were several astronauts and cosmonauts circulating through the crowd, and a certain billionaire from Gotham City was the inconspicuous object of a lot of attention. Possibly the best-known human faces there were a married couple that worked for “The Daily Planet”. They were sipping drinks and talking with two Sable ferrets – one dressed in a red serge uniform, the other floating in what he referred to as his “Hoverchair” – when the guests of honor climbed the ramp to the tabletop and joined them.

Murphy smiled and said, “You know, I’m worried that you’ll get the big heads from all this attention. Parties last night, a party tonight, who knows how many more? I can just see you two becoming party animals, and what would that do to your synagogue? Downhill to wrack and ruin, I can just see it.”

If Sammy could have blushed, he would have been beet red. He smiled at his old friend and replied, “Yeah, right. You know perfectly well how uncomfortable stuff like this makes me. Now, Clarissa here –” He held up his bride’s paw. “– she eats this stuff up. I figure she’ll be a major force in my congregation’s social scene.”

Clarissa shrugged. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

Lois smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. We’ve heard so much about you.”

Sammy said, “Oh, my, where are my manners? Lois, Clark, you two haven’t met Clarissa, have you? I want to introduce you to my beloved wife. Dear heart, this is Lois Lane and Clark Kent.”

Clarissa shook the hands of the two humans. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! We’re honored to have you here!”

Clark said, “The honor is ours as well. We’ve been friends of Sammy and these other two for some time. We couldn’t turn down the invitation.”

Clarissa said, “I saw you two outside the synagogue grounds during the ceremony. It was nice that you were able to get so close.”

Lois laughed. “Another of the perks of being star reporters for the ‘Planet’. We were able to get to the front because everyone thought we were reporting on the event. Well, that’s true – I’ll write up a piece for the Society page and be proud to do it – but the main reason we were there was for our friends. It was a lovely ceremony.”

Max said, “As I recall, your wedding was quite the posh affair, too. I certainly enjoyed it.”

Clark said, “That’s right, I’d forgotten that you and Murphy and Sammy were there. If you don’t mind my saying so, it’s easy for you to get lost in the crowd.”

Murphy chuckled. “Well, it was quite the crowd to get lost in! Lots of famous humans and only the three of us! That was fine with me, though.”

Max said, “Fine with me, too. Nobody ran into me.”

Lois said to Clarissa. “This, though, was your time. You made a lovely bride. You have a son, don’t you?”

Clarissa smiled brightly. “Yes, Levi! He’s far too young for something like this. He’s a few months over a year old and he’s only started talking. My mother’s watching him tonight.”

“That’s a shame. I would like to meet him sometime.”

“I’ll have to introduce you.” Clarissa’s smile turned warm. “Ms. Lane, I want to thank you for the kind words. It really is nice to meet you.”

“Well, any friend of these three is a friend of mine.” Clark nodded in agreement.

Clarissa went on. “I understand that, and I appreciate it. But it’s more than that. We ferrets are… different. It means so much that you’re willing to extend understanding and tolerance to creatures that aren’t even –” She sighed. “– aren’t even human.”

It was the purest coincidence that at that moment, Clark Kent and Murphy each had a mouthful of their respective drinks. Clark immediately dealt with his mouthful by spewing it out like a garden hose. Murphy dealt with his mouthful by trying to inhale it.

Clarissa was bewildered. Lois was daubing at Clark’s tuxedo and Sammy was pounding Murphy’s back as the Mountie hacked and choked. She looked over at Max. He was sitting in his Hoverchair and looking surprisingly calm about the whole thing.

Clarissa looked from human to ferret to ferret to human. “Was it something I said?”

Nobody answered her. They all just looked guilty, like they’d had their hands in the collective cookie jar.

Clarissa finally looked at her husband and said, “There’s something I don’t know about, isn’t there?”

Sammy’s response was a definitive, “Well…”

Clarissa held up a paw. “Okay, hold on. I know that we said that we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other, right?”

“Um. Yes, dear.”

“But that’s not a very realistic promise to make, is it? I know that sometimes you have to keep secrets. I mean, you have to keep Christmas presents a secret –”

Clark leaned forward and asked Max, “Do they celebrate Christmas?”

“That’s just an example! – Alright, birthday presents. And there are other people’s secrets, too. Would I be right in assuming that this something I don’t know is someone else’s secret?”

Sammy said, a little more firmly, “Yes, my love.”

“Okay, then. I can accept that. It’s none of my business.” She looked at them all. “I admit I’m curious, now. If I’m not supposed to know – ever – that’s that. But if I do find out – well, that’s God’s will.”

Clarissa smiled brightly then. “So – anyone for some more punch?”

END OF PROLOGUE

[pauljmsn]

Part 1


The first thing you notice about the Skippy Compound is the runway system. The two main runways are parallel and oriented ten degrees from Magnetic North, to take advantage of the prevailing Kansas winds. There are also two pairs of additional runways, oriented at sixty degree intervals. All runways are over 15,000 feet long and could have easily accommodated a Space Shuttle landing (assuming that NASA and the Skippys were speaking to each other). If you’re flying high enough above the Compound, the runways and the numerous taxiways resemble a snowflake.

At the center of the snowflake is the Skippy Control Tower, and close to the runways are the many buildings devoted to aerospace – the airplane hangars, the engineering offices, the large shops in which the components to the first Skippy space station were being fabricated. The runways and associated buildings dominate the landscape, but there is so much more to the Skippy Compound. In the Northwest corner is the farming community, where crops are grown and livestock are raised to feed thousands of ferrets. In another part of the Compound is the Residential area. Nearby is the Recreational area, with golf courses, baseball diamonds, swimming facilities, the justly famous Cafeteria and so much more to keep the Skippys and their families entertained.

In the Northeast sector of the Compound, close to the Aerospace campus, are the Advanced Research facilities. In these buildings, the Skippys conduct a wide array of scientific and technological studies. There are buildings of all sizes and shapes scattered around the complex – the Materials Research and Metallurgical Laboratories; the Chemistry Laboratory; the Astronomical Observatory Facility; the High-Energy Physics Lab, with the Nuclear Breeder Fission reactor and the Fusion Reactor; and the Biological Laboratory. The Biological Lab is the world’s largest repository of genetic data on Mustela sapiens. Truth to tell, it’s the world’s only repository of genetic data on Mustela sapiens, and is fiercely guarded.

Clarissa and her family lived nearby in Wichita, but she had been fascinated with the Skippy Compound from the first day she had visited. She loved seeing the wide variety of flying vehicles – everybody did – and she particularly wanted to see the scientific laboratories. The life of a Rebbitzin was a busy one, but today she finally had enough spare time for a tour of the Advanced Research facilities, and Second-in-Command Skippy was escorting her around the various labs. Clarissa didn’t understand a fraction of what was going on, but Second-in-Command Skippy was doing a good job of explaining some of it. They’d already been to the Materials Research Lab, where Clarissa had been impressed with a particularly tough and lightweight ceramics material that the Skippys had developed; she’d been told that it would soon find use as the heat shield for the Skippys’ second-generation orbiters. The two ferrets had just entered the lobby of the High-Energy Physics Lab when Skippy’s cell phone began to chirp.

Second-in-Command Skippy took out the phone and looked at the screen. “H’m”, she said. “This is from the Astro Observatory. I can’t see how this could be important, but you never know. If you’ll excuse me, Clarissa, I’ll take this outside. Do you mind waiting here?”

Clarissa shook her head. “That’s fine. Is it okay if I look around?”

Second-in-Command Skippy thought for a moment. “That ought to be fine. There are some restricted areas, but they’re marked, so you shouldn’t have any problems.” She left the building and began talking into her phone outside.

Clarissa wandered through the door at the other end of the lobby and looked around. There wasn’t much to see beyond a bland corridor with a series of unprepossessing doorways. She walked down the hallway.

Clarissa came to a door marked HIGH-ENERGY PARTICLE BOMBARDMENT CHAMBER – OBSERVATION GALLERY. This looked promising. She noticed a sign beneath a lamp next to the door: CAUTION! RESTRICTED AREA WHEN TESTING IS TAKING PLACE! UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ARE NOT ALLOWED IN OBSERVATION GALLERY WHEN RED LIGHT IS FLASHING! That was clear enough, but the lamp above the sign was dark, so it must have been okay. She opened the door and went through.

The door led into a long, narrow room with a few comfortable chairs. One wall consisted of a window, lightly tinted and tilted outward above ferret-waist height. Clarissa leaned to the window and looked down into a larger room below.

The room below was lightly furnished, with desks and tables and cabinets around the perimeter. The room was dominated by a large cube in the center, about a meter long on each side. The ceiling and three walls of the cube were made of heavily tinted glass, and the corners were reinforced with shining metal angles. The wall nearest the observation gallery had a ferret-sized glass door built in, and it was open now. Judging from the door, the glass walls must be about nine inches thick.

The left-hand wall of the cube was a block of metal two feet thick, and the edge Clarissa could see was covered with flashing lights, dials, LED screens, buttons and switches. The nearby wall of the room was covered with even more dials and screens and switches. A metal tube, about two inches in diameter, extended out of this wall and evidently went right through the chamber wall into the chamber. The tube looked like a rifle barrel to Clarissa, and she reflected that maybe that’s what it was, with atomic or subatomic particles for ammo.

There were three Skippys in the room, dressed in heavy coveralls – antiradiation suits, no doubt. Each Skippy had heavy goggles pushed up on his or her head, and a heavy helmet hung from a loop on the suit’s belt. One of the Skippys was in the small glass chamber, examining at a pedestal in the center and taking notes on a SkipBoard®. Resting on the pedestal was a crystal of some sort. It was like no other crystal that Clarissa had seen before. The chamber was dark, but she could see that the crystal glowed from within, with a weak green light. She wondered what it was.

The Skippy left the chamber and closed the thick door. Through the tinted glass, Clarissa could still see a little of the crystal’s green light.

The Skippy gave a paws-up after she’d latched the door, and another Skippy said, “Preparations complete. Put your protection on!”

The three Skippys settled the goggles over their eyes and placed the helmets over their heads. They were now completely covered from head to tail with thick radiation-proof gear.

The Skippy in charge must have had some sort of microphone in his headgear. Clarissa heard a high-pitched, muffled voice over a nearby intercom.

“Project K Gamma Radiation Bombardment Test One, ready to begin – now!”

A Skippy flipped a switch. Immediately the bombardment chamber, even through the thick, tinted glass, filled with light. In the center, the crystal’s green light became much brighter. Clarissa thought it was beautiful. But somehow, the sight unsettled her. She thought she’d read something once about a green crystal, but she couldn’t quite remember –

“Ma’am?”

Clarissa looked around. Just inside the gallery door was a Security Skippy, giving her a stern Security-style look.

“Ma’am, this is a restricted area. You’re not supposed to be –” The Security Skippy looked at her more closely and became flustered. “Oh, Rebbitzin! I’m – I’m sorry…”

Clarissa recognized him then. He was a member of her husband Sammy’s congregation. She smiled, and replied, “That’s just fine. You’re doing your job, and very well, I might add. But the red light outside wasn’t flashing, so I thought it was all right to come in here.”

Skippy rolled his eyes. “Oh, terrific. Stupid bulb’s burned out again. I understand, Ma’am – no harm done. But I will have to escort you away from here. Were you in the building with some else?”

“Yes, I was. Second-in-Command Skippy was with me, but she had to take a phone call. We ought to go out to the lobby, I think.”

The Security Skippy and Clarissa met Second-in-Command Skippy as she was coming back in the front door. She looked at the other two ferrets and asked, “Is something wrong?”

The Security Skippy shook his head. “Nothing, really, boss. The Rebbitzin wandered into a Restricted Area, but it wasn’t marked properly, so it’s not her fault.”

“Okay, no worries then. Clarissa, the Astronomy folks have evidently come across something odd, and I’m gonna have to go over there to see what it is. Do you want to come along?”

Clarissa replied, “It isn’t restricted, is it?”

Second-in-Command Skippy chuckled. “No, it’s not. You’ll get a chance to see what the stargazers do. Come on!”

##################

Located on the roof of the Astronomical Observatory Facility is a small dome which houses the first optical telescope that the Skippys built, in 1927. The 20-inch telescope is still recognized among the human astronomical community as an outstanding example of craftsmanship. Next to it is a large dish antenna, the Skippys’ first radio telescope, built in 1947. Both instruments are still used by the Skippys.

Primarily, however, the Facility serves as a clearing-house for astronomical observations that originate all over the world and beyond. The Skippys have ground observatories established on all continents, including Antarctica. At all times, at least one Skippy-6R Research aircraft is in the air, carrying the Skippys’ “Sleepy Weasel” High-Altitude optical telescope. And there are three SkippySat® Orbital Astronomical satellites in polar orbit. Electronic data from all of these sources are transmitted to the Astronomical Observatory Facility for collation and review.

Clarissa and Second-in-Command Skippy were bending over a table consisting of an LCD screen; another Skippy was standing next to them. Two images were projected onto the screen now. Each image was of a white square covered with small black spots. They looked like negative images of a star field, which is exactly what they were.

Clarissa looked up at the astronomer Skippy and said, “Okay, we learned about this in school. Astronomers prefer looking at negative images of star fields, because black-on-white is easier to study than white-on-black.” She looked closely at the two images again. “But these two pictures look identical. Are they the same star field?”

The astronomer Skippy replied, “Almost – but not quite. These photos were taken of the exact same portion of the sky – directly above the South Pole, as it happens.” He pointed at a small dot in the center of one of the images. “This isn’t really an existing star. It’s an imaginary projection of the Earth’s axis onto the star field. There’s no South Star corresponding to the North Star on the other side of the sky. These photos cover the same portion of the sky, but the only difference is time. They were taken less than 24 hours apart – one was taken a day and a half ago and the other about twelve hours ago.”

Clarissa said, “I see. But the stars haven’t moved, so there shouldn’t be any difference.”

“That’s so – but sometimes a light in the sky does move, and that’s why we take two photos like this – to compare them and see if any of these points of light have changed position. We do that with something called Image Differencing. We align the two images electronically and eliminate any identical or near-identical pixels. Anything left marks an object that fluctuates in brightness or that has moved in the time interval between the two images – a comet or an asteroid, usually.”

Second-in-Command Skippy said, “The Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory has named nine comets after the Skippys, because we discovered them this way.” To Skippy he said, “Okay, this is leading to something. Your guys must’ve already done a comparison of these two images. Do I assume that you found something unusual? Not just one comet?”

The astronomy Skippy replied, “Yes, we have, boss. I can’t just explain it. Here, I’ll show you.” He pushed a couple of buttons and a third image on the LCD screen. “This is the difference between the first two pictures.”

Clarissa raised her eyebrows and the Second-in-Command Skippy whistled. There wasn’t just one black spot; there weren’t just three. The third white square showed dozens of black spots. They were clustered together in the center of the image, all falling within a circle, and it seemed to be centered on the dot marking the South Pole projection.

Second-in-Command Skippy looked at the astronomy Skippy. “All of these stars moved their locations within a 24-hour period?”

“Yes’m. And we’ve studied the images further, and they all seemed to have moved outward from the central point an equal amount.”

Clarissa said, “But that’s impossible. Stars can’t move!”

Second-in-Command Skippy said, “But it appears that they have. Clarissa, I’m afraid that we have to cut the tour short. You’ll have to go back the Headquarters, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly.”

“Thank you. If you’ll wait a few moments, I’ll go with you. Skippy, send copies of these files over to Headquarters. I’m gonna have to talk to the Bossman about this.”

##################

One wall of the Head Skippy’s office is mostly taken up with an LCD computer screen that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The two black-on-white star field images were now projected on the screen. One had been labeled IMAGE #1 and a time stamp had been added: BASE TIME 00:00:00.00. The other had been labeled IMAGE #2 and the time stamp said 23:37:59.32. The Difference image, showing the stars that had apparently moved, was also projected on the screen. The point marking the South Pole axis projection was labeled, and a circle had been drawn around the stars.

The Head Skippy was standing in front of the screen. He’d been studying the images for several minutes and had said nothing. Second-in-Command Skippy stood behind him and did not break the silence.

Finally the Head Skippy spoke. “A gravity lens.”

Second-in-Command Skippy replied. “That’s what the astronomy Skippys think, too, boss. There’s something out there that’s generating a gravitational field massive enough that the light rays from the stars behind are being bent around it. The stars haven’t moved, but their light has.”

The Head Skippy nodded. “This object, whatever it is, creates a perfect circle of bent light. And it’s centered exactly on the Earth’s axis. Do the astronomy guys have any idea how far away it is?”

“They’ve just finished some parallax measurements from data from our stations in the Southern Hemisphere. Brace yourself, boss. It’s only about 238,800 miles from the Earth.”

The Head Skippy turned and looked at her. “That’s the average distance between the Earth and the Moon.”

“Yep. Actually, it works out to the nearest mile.”

“Is there any evidence of a massive object out there? Something generating that much gravity should be affecting the Earth’s orbit.”

“No. No perturbations in the orbit or of any other object in the Solar System.”

The head Skippy turned and looked again at the star images. “There’s only one thing we can conclude. Whatever this is, it’s not natural. Have we contacted the Skippés and Skippées in France?”

“Yes, we have. The Head Skippée confirms our observations.”

“Have we tried contacting the humans about this?”

“Um… yes, boss.”

“By which I gather that we’ve not had any luck talking with them.” The Head Skippy sighed and shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? All right, give me the details.”

Second-in-Command Skippy replied, “The logical first choice was NASA, of course. They still haven’t returned our calls. I think that they’re in one of their moods about us.”

“As usual. Who else?”

“We didn’t even try the National Academy of Sciences.”

“Of course not. Ever since they were taken over by the Intelligent Design bozos, they’ve been too busy rewriting scientific evidence to support their crackpot theories. They’re worse than useless. Anyone else? Any of the real scientific organizations? Universities? I’d even settle for NORAD.”

“We’ve tried contacting every group we could think of – ESA in Europe, the California Institute of Technology, S.T.A.R Labs – even some amateur astronomical clubs. We haven’t had luck with any of them.” Second-in-Command Skippy began counting on her fingers. “A lot of them out-and-out refused to believe that anything was wrong. If they weren’t skeptical, they told us that it probably wasn’t worth worrying about just yet. If they weren’t skeptical or dismissive, they’re grossly underfunded and understaffed. If they weren’t skeptical or dismissive or underfunded, they were booked up for months. And if they aren’t any of that, they’re not located in the Southern Hemisphere.”

The Head Skippy muttered. “Just great. Dumb two-legs.”

The Second-in-Command Skippy continued. “In the end, we came down to one group of human beings. Well… human beings and humanish beings.”

The Head Skippy looked at her. “Ah. Them.”

“Yep. Actually, we probably should have gone with them in the first place. They could actually do something about this. I put in a call to them; they’ll be getting back to us pretty soon.”

A voice spoke over the room intercom. “Hey, boss, we’ve got a call from up in orbit.”

The Head Skippy said, “What, the ISS? We haven’t got any orbiters up now.”

“No, the other space station. The Justice League’s ‘Watchtower’.”

The Head Skippy said to Second-in-Command Skippy. “Here they are, like you said. Where’s our Superhero Liaison?”

Second-in-Command Skippy looked at her watch. “This time of day, he’s usually in the gymnasium.”

“Right, call him and have him come up here. He ought to be in on this.” The Head Skippy said to the intercom. “Patch the call through.”

##################

The Gymnasium was large and, befitting the Skippy Compound, state-of-the-art. Among other things, it held an Olympic-class swimming pool, a racquetball court, and hundreds of ferret-sized exercise machines. One corner of the main gym floor was set aside for equipment that had been especially designed to be handicapped-friendly. This was for one ferret in particular.

Because of his hind-end paralysis, Max felt it was important to keep his upper body in peak condition. So he tried to set aside at least one half-hour every day for his own exercise routine. Most of the time he would work out with pull-ups from a free-standing bar or with bench presses. He had a small swimming pool set aside for personal use, but he rarely used it. The warm water tended to override what little control he had on his bodily functions, and after most swims the pool would have to be completely drained and thoroughly scrubbed out.

Exercise not only worked the muscles of his upper body, but it also gave Max some free time to think. He’d put his arms on autopilot, lifting weights or pulling himself up, and he’d let his mind wander wherever it wanted to go. He might mentally work on the manuscript for his latest Western; he might plan the itinerary for his annual vacation; or he might even try and figure out just what it was that the crazy humans were up to this time. That last was usually a real stumper.

At first, Max tried to keep track of the time mentally, but it was soon apparent that this was difficult, given his mind’s tendency to wander. At least one time, when he’d finally quit exercising, he’d been surprised to discover that he’d gone over the half-hour mark… by at least three hours. His arms had ended up feeling like overstretched rubber bands. Max had never known how much pain rubber bands must feel.

So, the Skippys had set up a timer for him. Max would set the alarm for whatever period of time he wanted, and he’d plunge into his chosen exercise routine with an ear out for the buzzer. At worst, he’d only go ten or fifteen minutes beyond the set time before he noticed the alarm or before somebody complained.

This day Max was lying on his back on his special bench, and he was pumping away with a barbell weighing thirty pounds. His anti-grav Hoverchair sat quietly nearby, and he had the remote control in a small holster attached to the bench.

Today was the day for his semi-annual physical checkup in the Infirmary. He’d been going for checkups for several years, as regular as clockwork, and Doctor Skippy would give him a thorough going-over. Thanks to regular physical therapy, his lower body was in as good a shape as could be expected, and his upper body had always been in fine form. There had never been any problems with Max’s health.

Today had been different.

Doctor Skippy had the latest diagnostic equipment, and he’d conducted the normal battery of tests. Then Max waited until the data had been analyzed and the Doctor could give him a report.

The doctor had come into the waiting room with a grave look on his face, carrying some computer printouts, and had set down by Max.

The Doctor had said, “Max, the computer says that you’re in the preliminary stages of kidney failure.” Doctor Skippy did not believe in hedging around about any problems.

Max hadn’t been given enough time to react to this before Doctor Skippy continued. “Now I for one am a bit skeptical about these results. The diagnostic equipment is the best around, but it’s not perfect. The kidney diagnostic machine might need recalibrating; I’m having some technicians come over to look at it. In the meantime, there are other tests that I can perform.”

So the doctor did some more traditional tests on Max, and the Skippy techs went over the diagnostic machine to see if something was misaligned.

It turned out that there was. The machine was recalibrated and Max was retested. The final diagnosis was that Max’s kidneys were fine after all. Still, Doctor Skippy bumped Max’s checkups up to a quarterly schedule for the foreseeable future.

After the Doctor was done, Max went to the gym, and this time he didn’t set the alarm.

Max had received his spinal injury at the hands of a human toddler so long ago. He was used to the paralysis; it was a part of who he was. But he had no illusions about what it might mean to him sometime down the road. He was paralyzed from the waist down, and he always would be. The chances were better than even that the internal organs below the break in his spine would begin to deteriorate sooner or later. Heavy exercise and physical therapy would help him put off any problems, but it may only be prolonging the inevitable. It may be years; it may be never. Neither he nor the doctors knew for certain.

But Max was mortal. He never completely forgot that fact, and he was reminded of it from time to time. For instance, whenever a vehicle of some sort exploded underneath him. Or when a piece of machinery was malfunctioning, like earlier today.

Max lay on his back and lifted the barbell up and down, up and down. He wasn’t sure what he felt about the events of the day. He wasn’t even sure how he could process his feelings. He left the exercise period open-ended because he thought that the rubber-band pain he was going to get was a good antidote to the reality of mortality.

A buzzer sounded and Max stopped, holding the barbell in midair. That was odd – he could have sworn he’d not set the alarm.

But it was the intercom system. Second-in-Command Skippy’s voice came through. “Hey, Max, you there?”

“Just a moment.” Max carefully set the barbell down in the cradle just behind his head. “Okay, I’m here. What’s going on?”

“We’ve got some business with the superhero community, and we’d like to have our Liaison in on it.”

Max picked up the remote and pressed a button. His Hoverchair hummed to life and lifted up to hover a couple of inches off the floor. “Justice League business or Green Lantern Corps business?”

“It’s the League. I’m up in the head Skippy’s office. We’re on the line now with the Watchtower.”

“Sounds good.” Max liked being an Alternate Green Lantern, but they rarely called on him. And the Justice League was more fun to work with. Max pressed a couple of buttons, and the Hoverchair began to skim over to him. “Which League member are we talking to?”

“Um. It’s…” Second-in-Command Skippy hesitated for a moment. Then she grumbled, “It’s… ‘The Scarlet Speedster.’ Max, have I ever told you how much I hate those cute superhero nicknames?”

Ah. The Flash. Max replied, “Yeah, well, blame a free press. It’s the reporters in the tabloids who come up with these silly names.” He carefully maneuvered the Hoverchair next to the bench. “They seem to go out of their ways to be clever. And alliterative. It’s like a mental sickness with them.”

“And the supertypes have to put up with it, poor guys.”

Max snorted. “Some go for it more than others. The Flash told me that he’s talking with the League’s lawyers about having that ridiculous ‘Scarlet Speedster’ phrase copyrighted.”

Skippy groaned. “Oh, brother…”

Max began to ease into his Hoverchair. “Okay, I’ll be up to the Head Skippy’s office as soon as I can. I want to stop and take a shower first, though.” He grinned. “If you want, you can tell Flash to cool his heels until I get there.”

“I’d enjoy that.”


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

Part 2


Whatever endeavor the Skippys turn their paws to, the results can always be described in superlatives. The Skippy Canteen Services supply all of the meals and foodstuffs for the Compound, from the numerous fast-food kiosks, to the Main Cafeteria, to the upscale diners, and it is generally acknowledged by those in the know that Canteen Services produce some of the best food on the planet. The four-star “La Mustel” diner generally has a long waiting list for reservations, both ferret and human.

The Skippys, however, readily admit that there is one other establishment that makes one particular sandwich better than they do – although, strictly speaking, it’s not located on the surface of the planet. That establishment is the cafeteria on the Justice League’s Watchtower orbital station, and the sandwich in question is the cheeseburger. Indeed, the Watchtower regularly ships down large quantities of quick-frozen miniature cheeseburgers for the Skippys.

When questioned, the head chef of the Watchtower cafeteria will say that his people’s expertise with cheeseburgers is primarily a matter of self-defense. One of the superheroes in the Justice League eats a lot of cheeseburgers.

When the door irised open and Max maneuvered his Hoverchair into the Head Skippy’s office, the computer screen on the wall was in Video Conference mode. On the screen appeared the head and shoulders of a human wearing a close-fitting red cowl with little yellow wing-shaped objects on the temples, the sort of things that flower delivery companies seem to think the god Mercury wore on his headgear. The human was in the process of wolfing down a cheeseburger.

The Flash smiled and mumbled through a half-full mouth, “Hi, Max! Excuse me a moment here.” He finished off the burger and picked up another in a fast-food wrapper. He concentrated on getting the paper off. The Second-in-Command Skippy looked over at Max and mouthed, “Third.”

You had to make allowances for the Flash. Like so many superheroes, he had no control over those things that made him what he was. He was known as “The Fastest Man Alive” (and his official website reminded you of it over and over and over again), but he paid a price for that distinction. That price was a very high rate of metabolism. It took tremendous amounts of energy for the Flash to run at speeds over Mach One, and it seemed like he was eating all the time to make up for it, even during critical Justice League conferences. Max and the Skippys were patient with him about this apparent rudeness. They knew how important food really was for the man. At one time the Flash pushed himself too hard without eating and collapsed in the middle of the Yukon in metabolic shock. Murphy and some other ferret Mounties had saved his life.

The Flash took a big bite from his third cheeseburger and said, “So, Max, what’s this you want the League’s help with? Some sort of anomaly in space?”

“Just a sec.” The Head Skippy handed Max some papers, and he took a few moments to go over them. “Right, some sort of – gravitational lens, is that right? – a quarter of a million miles above the South Pole.” Max thought for a moment. “Or would that be a quarter of a million miles below the South Pole? Anyway, it’s out there and we’re kind of curious about what it is.”

The Flash took another bite. “Can’t say as I blame you. You guys are pretty spaceworthy. I’m surprised you haven’t gone out there to look yourselves.”

The Head Skippy said, “Well, we’ve got our Orbiter, true, and we’re flight testing the second one now. But we’d have to go into polar orbit to get to whatever-this-is. That takes a lot more energy than just putting something in equatorial orbit. Plus it would take a lot of energy to send something out as far as the Moon, like this thing is. We might be able to cobble a booster together for the Orbiter that could do one or another, but doing both at the same time is beyond us right now.”

Second-in-Command Skippy said, “Besides, this thing isn’t in orbit; it’s holding stationary where it is. We’d have to kill all of our orbital velocity once we got up to the anomaly, and after that our spacecraft would have to remain under constant acceleration to keep from falling back to Earth. Waaay too much for us.”

“I’ll take your word for that. I’m just a chemist. All the space stuff is over my head. Have you talked to NASA about this?”

The ferrets remained silent.

The Flash chewed thoughtfully for a few moments. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Sorry. So, how can we help you? Want a ride?”

The Head Skippy replied, “That’s what we were thinking. Would there be a problem with that?”

The human finished his cheeseburger and wiped his lips with his napkin. As fast as he ate, the Flash never belched. “I don’t see that there would be. I think it’s a good idea to get the League involved, anyway. This thing could be a big problem, and looking into big problems is our job.”

“I agree.” Another human came into view on the screen and leaned forward over the Flash’s shoulder. This human wore a blue shirt with a red cape. He wasn’t muscle-bound, but somehow he managed to look… strong. Superman smiled. “Hi, guys.”

“Hi, Supes! How ya been?”

“I’m fine, Max. I overheard the conversation and thought that I’d offer my services.”

The Flash grinned. “Well, then, there you go! You guys were worried about energy, and the Action Ace here has energy to spare!”

Superman looked uncomfortable. Not all superheroes liked their nicknames. “Um… yeah. It wouldn’t be a problem for me to fly out to this anomaly. I could even fly my small cruiser and take someone along to make some observations. One of the Skippys, perhaps.”

The Head Skippy thought for a moment. “Now that I think of it, that sounds like a good idea. One of us would use fewer consumables than a full-grown human. We’ll send some measuring instruments along with you, and one of our guys could operate them.”

The Flash said, “So, how would you choose the passenger? Hold a lottery or something?”

The Head Skippy looked at Max. “Actually… why not our Superhero Liaison? You’re a smart fellow, Max. You ought to be able to work the instruments easily. What do you say?”

Max turned the suggestion over in his mind. He enjoyed space travel, and his disability was not a handicap in a weightless environment.

Max remembered his ruminations in the gym earlier. That decided him. When you’re floating in orbit, surrounded by the Universe, your own mortality didn’t seem that serious.

He smiled. “Count me in. Supes, you’ve got yourself a passenger.”

Superman nodded. “Excellent. It’s been awhile since you and I have done anything together. This’ll be an opportunity to catch up.”

The Head Skippy said, “It’s settled then. Your people and mine will get together and iron out the details. Let’s get this show on the road, folks.”

##################

The Man of Steel was a remarkable individual, who could do things that few others could do. But he still needed to breathe. Granted, he could hold his breath for a very long time – long enough to get to the Moon and back, with enough reserve to hang around for an hour or so. But for long trips away from Earth, he preferred being safe to being sorry, so he would travel in his own personal spaceship.

The ship wasn’t much larger than necessary to hold Superman plus a few supplies – food, drinking water and oxygen, with a little extra room for whatever he felt he needed. Beyond some small thrusters for maneuvering, the main propulsion system was himself.

For the trip to the Anomaly, the Skippys had installed a compact suite of measuring equipment – videocams, magnetic recorders, radiation sensors, and the like – plus a seat for Superman’s passenger. The Skippys had placed the important controls on the left side of the setup, to take advantage of Max’s left-handedness. The seat had been specially designed for him, with a six-point safety harness and a small recess built into the cushion to accommodate the cellphone holster on Max’s hip.

Max was strapped in loosely enough that he could lean over Superman’s shoulder to ask, “Tell me again how we can go so fast in this thing without getting plastered on the back wall?”

Superman replied, “Thanagarian technology. There are projectors built into the hull that negate the effects of gravity and inertia during High-G maneuvers. Don’t worry; we’ll be fine.”

“But how, um, reliable are these Thanagarian gizmos?”

Superman smiled. The best of folks have their fears. “Ask Hawkwoman the next time you meet her.”

Max shrugged and fiddled with a switch on his console. “Hey, people back there. Can you hear me now?”

Second-in-Command Skippy’s voice came over the radio. “We can hear you just fine, Max.”

A three-way linkup had been rigged between Superman’s little ship and the Communications rooms in the Skippy Compound and the Justice League’s Watchtower. The Head Skippy and Second-in-Command Skippy were in charge of the comm in the Compound, and The Flash in charge on the ‘Tower. The Flash’s voice said, “Loud and clear here, little guy.” It was one of those rare moments when he wasn’t eating.

Sammy was in the Compound Communications room with his wife Clarissa and their son. Levi wasn’t getting much out of the experience. Fortunately he had some of his toys along. Murphy was up on the League Watchtower.

Second-in-Command Skippy said, “We’ve recalibrated the sensors on SkippySat® 23, and we’ve been able to pick up some data from the Anomaly. Not much, but we can actually detect that whatever-it-is is there. We show you about a hundred klicks from it. Do you see anything yet?”

Max looked out the windshield over Superman’s shoulder. They had traveled in a wide circle around the Anomaly and were now approaching it from outward. Far below them was the blue marble of Earth, with a white patch in the center that was Antarctica. But he saw nothing else. “No joy, guys. Maybe if we get closer.”

Superman narrowed his eyes. “I do see… something. Nothing definite, just a bluish haze. But there’s something there, sure enough. Give us a few minutes.”

Soon they both could see the Anomaly, for what that was worth. It was vaguely circular with indeterminate boundaries, colored a pale blue that looked like it was just on the verge of flickering.

Max punched a few buttons and the videocams started to whir. “Not much to see – just a blue cloud.”

Superman said, “I’ll fly around to one side.”

Max continued. “Okay, it’s flat on the far side – what we first saw. And looking at it from the edge – huh! There’s a short cylinder of some sort on the side nearest the Earth. It’s the same almost-flickery blue cloudy stuff as the disc that it’s attached to.”

The little space vessel circled around further. “Almost between the Anomaly and the Earth now – Hey! Look at that! There’s a tunnel!”

The Head Skippy said, “A tunnel? Leading where?”

Max replied, “Um – nowhere. It looks like Space has a hole in it.”

Superman said, “I know what this is – it’s a wormhole!”

Sammy, in the Comm room, muttered, “What’s a wormhole?”

Clarissa softly replied, “It’s a tunnel that connects two points in space through the Fourth Dimension.”

“Oh.”

The Head Skippy looked at them and said, “Some scientists have said for a long time that wormholes exist in order to satisfy their theories of the how the Universe ticks. Others have said that’s it a lot of hooey and wormholes can’t naturally occur. After all this time, it’s still a hot topic, especially with the Intelligent Design folks calling a lot of the shots now.”

Levi looked up from his toys and said brightly, “Worms? We see worms, Daddy?” Levi was getting to the age where gross things fascinated him.

Superman said over the comm hookup, “Naturally occurring or not, I’ve come across them before. Quite a few space-faring civilizations use them for interstellar travel.”

Max said, “That’s how the Green Lanterns travel, so I’ve used them from time to time myself. But this one looks different.”

Superman said, “I agree. I haven’t seen one that looks like this.”

Second-in-Command Skippy said, “That explains a lot of the gravitational anomalies we’ve observed. Can you tell where this thing leads? Can you, um, see out the other side?”

Superman replied, “Let’s get closer.” A few moments later he said, “Okay, we’re about five hundred feet away now. The entrance is about one hundred feet in diameter. The inside – oh, dear – the inside twists around quite a bit. Sort of. In three dimensions and probably a couple of more. It can give you a headache if you look at it too long –”

“Uh, Supes?” Max sounded worried. “I think we’re close enough now. You can stop any time.”

“I am stopped! What’s wrong? Hey, we’re not getting closer – the walls of this thing are extending out!”

“Yikes! Superman, those walls are coming toward us! Let’s get away from here! Back up! Back up!!”

“I’m trying! But I can’t! Something’s got hold of us and I can’t get free!”

“Somebody back there – anybody! The walls are closing in on us! Somebody help –”

Silence.

Second-in-Command Skippy’s voice was barely audible. “We’ve lost communications with them. And the data from the wormhole was cut off, too.” He looked at the Head Skippy. “They’re – they’re gone.”

The silence lasted for a very long second, and then everyone seemed to be shouting at once.

Levi was confused. Now what were the grownups going on about?

##################

The view outside the spaceship was bending and twisting in all sorts of directions. It was nothing like Max had ever seen before. It was almost too much for his mind to process, and he focused his eyes on the interior of the ship to get away from it. Inside wasn’t much better.

Max’s and Superman’s bodies were bending and stretching in ways that no vertebrate could, and in some ways that invertebrates couldn’t have managed either. Why didn’t it hurt? Max’s mind kept expecting pain. In fact, it almost demanded pain; at least that would lend a little sanity to the proceedings.

Max’s snout was stretched out over a foot in front of him. It would have touched the back of the Man of Steel’s head, except that Superman’s neck had twisted itself so that his head was someplace else.

Max looked down at his hands and his jaw dropped – literally; it was lying in his lap. His fingers were incredibly long now, too, and they didn’t seem to have joints anymore. Max’s fingers whipped around in the air like the tentacles of a furry squid. He tried desperately to hold his fingers still, to get them to stop writhing about. Max was afraid that they’d get all tangled up if he weren’t careful. It occurred to him that they might still be tied in knots when Reality finally stopped doing… whatever it was doing. He didn’t want to think how painful that would be.

Something with a rounded edge appeared out of the corner of Max’s eye. He got a better look and realized that it was his own ear. He didn’t know if it was his ear doing something strange or if it was his eye – maybe both. For the first time in his life, Max could look directly into his own ear canal.

He’d just made a mental note to get his ears cleaned out when they got back when Reality stopped doing it.

Hard.


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

Part 3



“Max?”

Max was having the “Royal Wedding” dream again. He was dancing with Fred Astaire this time, and it was going great. His dress fit perfectly. He wasn’t sure why, but Max was thankful that this particular dream wasn’t about flying.

“Max!”

He was evidently lying on a sandy beach or in a desert. It was warm but not uncomfortably so. Max opened his eyes. The sky was a muted red. It must have been close to Sunrise or Sunset.

He looked around and saw the spaceship. Some parts looked like they didn’t return to reality quite the same way that they’d left it, but most of it was simply a wreck.

Someone with torn blue tights was bending over him. Max lifted his head up. “Hi, Superman. How are you doing?”

“I survived. We both did, thankfully.” He hesitated. “But I think that while we’re here, I’ll have to go by Kal-El. ‘Superman’ doesn’t really fit now.”

Then Max realized that it wasn’t Sunrise or Sunset. The red light was coming from directly overhead.

Max lay his head back down in the warm sand. “A red sun. That’s terrific. Hundreds of planets this wormhole could have taken us to, and it had to pick one with a red sun!” Now he noticed that Kal-El had a bloody cut on one cheek and several bruises. “That means you don’t have any powers, doesn’t it?”

Kal-El nodded. “You know red sun radiation takes my powers away. Believe me, I’ve checked. Can’t fly. Can’t see through things. Can’t lift anything too heavy. I’m just as human as I look, as long as we’re here.”

Max grunted. “Speaking of which, do we have the faintest idea where here is? Can we even tell how far we are from Earth?”

“No.” Kal-El pointed to something behind Max. “They can probably tell us.” Max turned around to look.

Not far away were a group of riders, armed with spears. Wherever this planet was, the steed of choice was tall and looked like a plucked ostrich. The riders nudged the haunches of the beasts, which clumped forward on their two huge legs. Max got a closer look at the riders themselves and grunted.

About a year ago, Max had spent a sleepless night in a small cinder-block cell in Burma with an electric cattle prod and a very large python. He’d come away from that experience with two things: an appreciation of long-life batteries and a deep hatred of snakes. His antipathy was so strong that he didn’t think highly of anything scaly or reptilian. And these riders were definitely reptilian.

They had blunt snouts and beady little eyes and a fine covering of scales. Granted, the scales were little more than raised ridges, and the beady eyes actually had eyelids. The tongues were long, but not forked. And they had well-developed pecs; these creatures worked out. Still, it took all the open-mindedness Max had to not go with his gut feeling.

The plucked-ostriches trotted forward and surrounded Kal-El and Max. The vaguely reptilian beings looked down at them. Every one carried a spear and wore a black harness which held a round silvery object over the chest. The tallest lizard began to speak in a watery hiss, and the circle on his chest began to issue sounds along the lines of “goog”, urk”, “awwwnk”.

Kal-El said, “Apparently a translator.”

The device emitted some hissing noises. Max said, “That seems to be the case. It must be learning our language.”

“I’d say so.” To the tall lizard, he said, “Hello. Who are you and where are we?”

The translator wheezed and hissed and burbled for a few minutes. Then it said, “We are known as the Yvmneq, and this planet is Cynarg. I am Lord Kaa. What is your name and where do you come from?”

“I am Kal, of the House of El, and this is my friend Max. We are from the planet Earth. I am surprised that you do not know that. Didn’t you send that wormhole to our planet?”

“The Tvmzb device operates on a random program. We can send it out to the stars, but we do not control the destination.”

“I do not understand. Why would you – Hey! Don’t do that!”

Max was confused, and then realized that someone was behind him. He rolled over and discovered that another of the riders had been poking his lower body with the point of a spear. He hadn’t felt it. It hadn’t broken the skin, thankfully. “Hey!” He shouted. “That’s not fair, taking advantage of a handicapped critter! Call Mister pointy off!”

Lord Kaa looked down at Max for a moment, and said to Kal-El, “Interesting. Is your pet sreerg a mimic?”

“I am not a pet! I am not Kal-El’s pet, or anyone else’s pet! I am my own creature and nobody owns me! And believe me, I am NOT a Mimic!!”

The Yvmneq with the spear said, “Lord Kaa, it evidently feels nothing below the waist. It must have a spinal injury. I do not understand why its master has not terminated its life. It would be a mercy to remove it from its misery.”

Max rolled his body around to face the spear carrier. It was amazing how belligerent Max’s rolling could be. He howled, “I’m only miserable when someone is poking at me like I’m being roasted on a spit! And I DO NOT have a master! One more time - I am NOT a pet!!”

Lord Kaa raised his non-lizardlike eyebrows. He nodded at the Yvmneq, who backed away from Max.

Lord Kaa turned back to Kal-El. “Now, then, what were you asking?”

“It ought to be obvious. Why would you send your, um, device to a random planet?”

“We send many Tvmzbf to unknown planets, and we wait for them to be activated by whatever inhabitants there are. If the device is never activated, then we know that the planet has no sentient life. Would I presume that the Tvmzb was in space, some distance from the surface?”

“That’s correct.”

“That is deliberate. For the inhabitants to be able to detect the device, and to travel to it to investigate, implies that they have developed technology and space travel. That is what we are looking for.”

Max said, “‘The Sentinel’!”

Kal-El looked down at him. “Beg pardon?”

“‘The Sentinel’ – it was a famous short story by Arthur C. Clarke. It was about some astronauts finding an artifact on the Moon. They discovered that fiddling with it triggered a signal that was sent into deep space, and they figured out that it was put there by some alien civilization, to let them know that Earthlings had advanced enough to travel to the Moon.”

“That’s right; I remember that one. The story was the basis for ‘2001’.” Kal-El looked at Lord Kaa. “So you put that thing there by simple chance to let you find space-faring civilizations. Why would you do that? And why kidnap us?”

“Our logic is such: To investigate the appearance of a gravitational anomaly like the Tvmzb, the inhabitants of a planet would send out someone in good physical shape – space travel is best done by the strong. And I would say that you, Kal of the House of El, look to be in excellent shape.”

“Thank you, I think. Why do you require a physically fit inhabitant of Earth?”

“To participate in the Game. You will fight one of our warriors in the Arena of Battle.”

”What?! You arranged our kidnapping for the sake of a prize fight? Do you do this for every advanced civilization that you come across? Why?!”

Lord Kaa had explained this several times before. “For many centuries, the Yvmneq have been a warrior race. We have fought ourselves, we have fought others. How well we did in the fighting was almost irrelevant – we lived for the fighting. But we fought too well. Soon we realized that we were in danger of becoming the victims of genocide – from our own actions. Winning or losing, we were killing ourselves. So, in order to survive, we stopped warring on others.

“But we are warriors – fighting is in our blood. So we developed a substitute for war. Now we satisfy our warlust with the ritualized fight of the Games.”

Max said to Kal-El, “That explains a lot about football.”

“Not helping, Max. And you want me to take part in this Game?”

“Correct. Whenever we discover the civilization via the Tvmzb, we transport one of their warriors here.”

Max narrowed his eyes. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? What are the stakes to this Game?”

“An astute question, Max. You are an intelligent being. If the representative warrior of the Earth wins the Game, the Yvmneq will leave the planet alone and will not bother the inhabitants in the future.”

Kal-El said, “And what if I lose? What do you get out of it?”

“Earth will pay a forfeit. What kind of forfeit varies. It may be in the form of a regular tribute to the Yvmneq, or it may be indentured servitude, for a predetermined amount of time. It is up to our leaders to decide that. It would depend on the Earth’s resources, and on the inhabitants.”

“And if I refuse to fight?”

“That counts as conceding the Game.”

Kal-El and Max stared at one another. Finally, Kal-El turned back and said, “We could protest that this is barbaric. That won’t make any difference, will it? Do we have a choice?”

“No. Your fate was sealed when you approached the Tvmzb.”

Kal-El looked down at Max. The two said nothing, but finally Max nodded his head.

Kal-El said to Lord Kaa, “Very well. We have no choice but to accept.”

“Very good. You are brave, Kal of the House of El. Follow us. We will take you before our queen Zvff Uvff.”

Kal-El picked up Max and walked along beside the plucked ostriches. No one bothered to restrain him. The Yvmneq warriors seemed to operate on the Honor System. That was a good sign.

Max quietly said, “Kal, is this a good idea? You’re not operating at the norm, and these guys look pretty buff. Are you sure that you can take them on?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Max, it’s that strength doesn’t always win the day. I figure that if I keep my confidence up, that’ll help a lot.”

He looked at the reptilian riders. “I hope.”

##################

“Soop’man! Da-daaa!”

Clarissa looked up in time to watch as Constable Murphy once again fell through the air, to be caught by Superman. Actually, it was a Constable Murphy action figure, rescued by a Superman action figure. With a little help from paws with snow-white fur.

Little Levi provided the sound effects for these daring saves, with a “Whoooosh!” and a “Boom!” whenever Superman caught Murphy.

The Justice League had so far made sure that the general populace was as yet unaware of the disappearance of Superman and Max, but it would leak out sooner or later. In the meantime, the League and the Skippys were intensely busy, working out what to do about a rescue operation. Other ferrets were deeply concerned, but there was nothing they could really do except go about their regular business and keep an ear out for any news. The Skippys were handling it. Everything would be fine.

Sammy was at the synagogue now, with a minyan. If nothing else, his congregation could pray. Clarissa had stayed home with their son. It was getting close to his bedtime, and she was waiting as he played out his energy with his toys.

It had been a little over two years since Clarissa had first seen the Man of Steel. She knew that Superman was a good friend of Murphy, Max and even Sammy, but she’d never really met him. She’d heard a lot about him, and she wasn’t sure how much of it was true.

Clarissa found Superman fascinating. To have all of that power, and to use it for nothing more – and nothing less – for the good of humanity, furred or not.

Some of her fascination must have been communicated to her son. Whenever she had glimpsed the red-blue blur shooting across the sky, Clarissa would point at it and say, “Look, sweetie! That’s Superman!” He’d been far too young to understand, but he was soon following the blur with his bright red little eyes. Now he had a whole range of Superman toys and Superman bedspreads and pajamas and decorations in his room. He still didn’t quite understand who Superman was, but Levi knew that he was special.

Like almost all ferrets, Clarissa normally avoided the humans’ supermarket tabloids, but the Midnight Star recently did an in-depth – relatively speaking – article on Superman. Clarissa actually sat down and read it because, well, it was about Superman. The article made some wild speculations about the Man of Steel’s private life and boyhood that set Clarissa howling. It also listed his strengths – getting half of them wrong –limitations – getting only a few wrong – and weaknesses. The list of weaknesses was short and, from what Clarissa could tell, surprisingly accurate. She’d glanced over the rest of the tabloid and afterwards had to delve into Kafka just to get the bad taste out of her mouth.

Now Clarissa was thinking about the tabloid article on Superman, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. She watched her beautiful little boy play with his action figures, and she let her mind focus. Clarissa realized that it had to do with something that had happened over the last few days. Was it the disappearance? No, that wasn’t it. She thought that it had to do with the discovery of the Anomaly, but, no, that wasn’t quite it. It was close, though – something that had happened at about the same time.

It was her visit to the High-Energy Physics Lab – that was it! And the radiation test on that green crystal –

Then Clarissa remembered what she’d read in the tabloid article.

She had to do more research. She turned to the table and switched on her personal laptop.

Superman and Constable Murphy clattered to the floor. Levi’s face lit up and he said, “P’ay game, Mamma?!”

Clarissa typed in her username and password. “Mamma has to look something up. It won’t take long, little one, and then we’ll play a game.” As SkippyOS® booted up, she turned around. “Come over here. You can help Mamma.”

“Ho-hay.” Levi was still getting used to the whole walking thing. Most of the time he preferred to fall back on good old reliable crawling, but today he got to his feet and he shakily toddled over to his Mamma.

Clarissa held out her paws and caught Levi as he reached her. “Good boy!” She turned around and seated him in her lap. “Are you comfy, little one? Good.”

Levi watched as Clarissa opened up the SkipNet® web browser and scanned the daily news. Murphy had been named acting liaison with the Justice League, and the Babylon orbiter was being readied for an emergency flight to the League’s Watchtower satellite. There wasn’t much else in the news and Clarissa opened up SkipTrace®.

The Skippys’ Software Division had developed a search engine for the ferrets’ exclusive use, and it was no surprise that the result was better than anything the humans had ever come up with. Most humans didn’t even know about it, as with other things concerning the ferrets, but MicroSoft knew full well that SkipTrace® beat its MicroGoogle seven ways to sundown. So MicroSoft had tried to buy the Skippys out, to the tune of a proposed price in the eight-digit range. The Head Skippy had responded with a counterproposal: MicroSoft would make no more such silly offers in the future, and in return the Skippys would not make their own software available for sale to humans. If that happened, MicroSoft knew that it would have to declare bankruptcy within six months. No further buyout offers were made.

Clarissa typed KRYPTONITE into the search box, set the preference for “Search External Web” and hit the “go” button.

As good as SkipTrace® was, it was still well-nigh impossible to filter the wheat from the chaff on the World Wide Web. Most of the first ten hits were auctions for “Kryptonite” on eBay. Clarissa ignored these. They were either fraudulent or selling what had wisely been declared a controlled substance. Either way these auctions were illegal and would be pulled by eBay within minutes.

Clarissa also ignored any website with the description in all capital letters. And there were other obvious kooksites that weren’t worth exploring. It wasn’t until she’d gone to the third page of hits that she saw something that might be worthwhile – an abstract for a paper on Kryptonite from the Physics Department of MIT. Still she didn’t go to this one. She hadn’t wanted to study any data on Kryptonite on the Web; it was enough to know that there were some websites that you could take seriously.

Clarissa went back to the SkipTrace® search page. This time she set the preference for “Search Skippy Intranet” and searched for KRYPTONITE again.

She got nothing.

There was no list of webpages. There was just a notice stating “WARNING: YOU DO NOT HAVE THE PROPER SECURITY CLEARANCE FOR THIS INFORMATION!”

So, the Skippys’ internal computer network did have some data on Kryptonite, but it was restricted, and Clarissa couldn’t access it.

She couldn’t get any information from the Skippys online about Kryptonite. And that told her a lot.

Clarissa opened up the folder for Levi’s games, and her son bounced around in joy. She decided that someday she’d have a talk with the Head Skippy. For now she opened up a counting game for Levi.


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

Part 4


The Yvmneq city was a collection of rough stone dwellings with touches of technology here and there. As their escort marched through the streets, yvmneqf of all ages and sizes stopped whatever they were doing to look at Kal-El. They’d probably seen far more exotic aliens, so they didn’t seem all that interested and soon turned back to whatever they’d been doing. Through the open windows of the houses, Max could occasionally glimpse the shimmer of some electronic screens – personal computers or televisions, probably. Plucked-ostrich riders shared the streets with a few antigrav skimmer vehicles – something like Max’s Hoverchair. The soldiers took Max and Kal-El to a stone building larger and more ornate than most – relatively speaking. The Yvmneq didn’t seem to go in for architectural ornamentation.

Max had never quite understood the human fascination with mammary glands. Size seemed to count a lot for women and especially for men. He couldn’t see the point. The ability of human women to feed babies didn’t depend that much on the size of the containers, did it? He just chalked it up to another bit of human craziness, and was thankful that ferrets didn’t develop such an obsession with their mammaries. The thought of a bra with eight cups was a bit much.

Zvff Uvff was sitting on a simple throne as Kal-El was led in by Lord Kaa to stand before her. Max couldn’t help noticing how she was built. Zvff Uvff had the lightly scaled skin and the blunt snout of the race, and she was also, as the humans put it, stacked.

Max had to admit that a reptilian creature with a rack was novel.

The Queen stood up and walked over to examine Kal-El. Max had met his share of royalty, both on and off Earth. He knew that royals were technically no different than everyday ordinary citizens. But still, there was something there – perhaps they simply expected obedience and respect as merely their due, and it affected their demeanor. Zvff Uvff was definitely royalty. She moved with grace and dignity, and she had intelligence and power. Hanging from her neck was one of the ubiquitous translation discs. Max was getting used to tinny electronic voices speaking English, to the point where he hardly noticed the discs.

Queen Zvff Uvff looked at Max for a moment and said, “Man of Earth, why did you bring your pet?”

It’s not wise to talk to royalty that way, especially when the other side has all the weapons. But Max reacted automatically. “I am not a pet!”

Fortunately, Zvff Uvff was not that sort of royalty. She looked at Max thoughtfully and said, “Very well.”

The Queen turned to examine Kal-El. “It’s Kal of the House of El, is it not? I am told that you come from Earth. You look like you would make a good fighter. Are you?”

Kal-El had met far more royalty than Max, and he replied with the proper amount of deference, “I am known for my abilities, Your Majesty.”

“Do you know why you have been brought here, Kal of the House of El?”

“It has been explained to me by Lord Kaa, Your Majesty. I am required to fight a champion of the Yvmneq in the Ring of Battle. The fate of the Earth will be decided by the outcome of that fight.”

“Yes. By the workings of chance, it is now your planet’s turn. I hope that you fight well for her.”

The Queen turned to Lord Kaa. “We will go to the arena. The champion of Earth will meet his opponent there.” Zvff Uvff walked regally out of the room with her retinue. Kal-El and his guard followed behind.

Max had thought that the Yvmneq that he’d seen so far had been muscular, but his heart sank when he saw Kal-El’s opponent. The reptilian’s limbs and his semi-scaly chest bulged with muscles like steel cables, and he was a whole head taller than Kal-El. His translation disc looked like it was bonded to his chest.

The Yvmneq fighter glowered at him and said, “I am Ovt Tnybbf. You may as well concede your defeat now, little man. I will easily win the fight tomorrow.”

Kal-El nodded and smiled. “I am Kal of the House of El. I offer you my greeting, Ovt Tnybbf.”

The greeting was not returned. Ovt Tnybbf was not a polite Yvmneq. He didn’t quite curl his lip.

Kal-El continued. “It is too early to predict the outcome of the fight. We will have to see what happens when the time comes.”

“Why does your pet make that noise?” For once Max did not protest the word.

“He has something caught in his throat, I think. He will be fine.”

“He will be fine – but that is more than you will say!” The warrior snarled. “I do not know why we should even bother with these games! In the Old Times, the Yvmneq could have easily conquered your planet, and we could do it now, if only –”

“Ovt Tnybbf.” The voice was polite, but powerfully polite. Queen Zvff Uvff continued. “You know of our history. We nearly wiped ourselves out with bloodlust. By games such as these do we satisfy our love of the fight without paying the price of war. The games have served us well for many years. You know that.”

Ovt Tnybbf bowed his head and replied, “You are correct, Your Majesty. I forgot myself. I apologize.”

He seemed humble enough, but Max thought he could detect something beneath the surface. Ovt Tnybbf would bear watching.

Lord Kaa said, “Kal of the House of El, I will show you the arena. Follow me.”

He led Kal-El to a large auditorium. Several hemispherical cages were scattered around the floor. One cage nearby was about 12 feet high and 25 feet in diameter. It was surrounded by some bleachers that looked like they could seat about three hundred spectators. A Yvmneq was raking the red sand floor of this cage out smooth.

Lord Kaa said, “The two combatants will be locked into this cage until one has been defeated and the fight is over. The bars are not meant as a barrier. The framework of the cage is electrically charged and there is a force field in the gaps. Watch. Soldier, your spear.”

The Yvmneq lord took the soldier’s weapon and thrust it between the bars of the cage. The gap erupted in a cascade of sparks and bolts of electricity.

“It looks impressive, but I assure you that it is not injurious or painful. The purpose of the shield is to indicate when a fighter has touched the bars of the cage. That is a signal that the fight is over and that the fighter has lost. The force field also forms a barrier. A fighter cannot leave the ring as long as it is turned on.”

Kal-El said, “Are there other rules for this fight?”

Lord Kaa replied, “There are others, but they will be explained to you before the fight begins.”

“And when will that be?”

“Tomorrow morning. For now, you will be shown to your quarters. You will find them comfortable, and you and your companion will be well-fed.”

Kal-El nodded and said, “Thank you, sir.”

While they were being led away, Max whispered, “Kal – we need to talk. I don’t know if you’re taking this seriously enough.”

“I know how serious to take this, Max. We’ll talk over dinner.”

##################

It was clear that the Yvmneq believed in treating fighters with respect, domestic or alien. Kal-El’s and Max’s quarters were no more ornate than anyplace else they’d seen, but the rooms were neat and comfortable. The food they were served turned out to be quite good. Yvmneq and Earth metabolism were similar enough that they shared the same nutritional requirements.

There was plenty of food for both Kal-El and the ferret, but Max didn’t have his enzyme supplement with him, so he stuck with the meat. In any case, he didn’t feel like eating much.

Kal-El was reclining on a couch, and Max was laid out on some soft pillows. The ferret was chewing on a particularly tender morsel that actually didn’t taste like chicken.

Max swallowed and said, “Okay, Kal, you don’t seem particularly worried about tomorrow. Do you really think you have a chance in beating that big galoot?”

Kal-El raised his eyebrows. “Why, Max, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t have any confidence in me!”

Max held up a paw. “No, no, don’t get me wrong. I have every confidence in you! It’s just… well… with the red sun, you’re not really Superman right at the moment. That dude’s a lot stronger than you are now!”

“True. I haven’t got my powers, but that doesn’t mean that I’m helpless. I’m still in pretty good physical shape. And it helps that this planet’s gravity is only about three-fourth’s that of Earth’s. That ought to help.”

“Yes, it will. But still… you’re at a disadvantage here, Kal.”

Kal-El actually smiled. “Maybe not as much as you might think, Max. I do know a fair amount about martial arts.”

“Really? It’s hard to picture Superman needing to know about self-defense.”

“Ordinarily not, I agree. But there are times when I won’t have my powers to call on. Like right now.”

Max nodded. “Oh, good point. How much do you know about martial arts? Who taught you, if I’m not being nosey?”

“Not at all. You know him, all right. Batman taught me.”

“Ohhhh… Now he would make a good teacher. What brought this on?”

“It started when I first met him. He was in Metropolis hunting the Joker and I came across him in a nightclub after hours shaking down a small-time hood for info. I came up from behind and put my hand on the Bat’s shoulder and told him to ease up. He responded by throwing me clear across the room. Batman’s touchy like that.”

Max had to suppress the urge to giggle. “I’ll bet that doesn’t happen very often.”

“Nobody had ever done that to me before! I flattened out a couple of tables and lay there for a few seconds. I wasn’t hurt, but I was in shock.

“Batman and I worked together later and tracked down the Joker. But the incident in the nightclub left me thinking. So, a few weeks later, Clark Kent showed up on Bruce Wayne’s doorstep and asked about learning some good self-defense moves. Credit Bruce with seeing that it was an excellent idea, and he spent three months teaching me what he knew.”

“That would have to be a lot. Batman has in interesting fighting style. I saw that in Burma last year. You must be pretty doggone good with martial arts, then.”

“I think so. Bruce thought so after we were done. We still go a few rounds in the gym from time to time.

“I may not be as strong as Ovt Tnybbf, but there was one important thing that Batman taught me: sometimes brute strength isn’t enough.

“Besides, whatever happens tomorrow, it won’t do any good to worry tonight. I just have to have confidence that I’ll win.”

Max looked out the open window. The red sun had set about an hour ago and the night sky was dominated by two of the planet’s three moons. The moons washed out most of the stars so only a few were visible. Even so, the pattern of stars was completely foreign to Max. He felt so helpless. It was one of those rare times when he regretted his injury.

Max finally said, “I hope you’re right, Kal. I wish I could help.” Still, the meat tasted a little better. But still not like chicken.

##################

The Head Skippy had been up and in his office since before dawn. He was at his desk now, scanning the latest emails and messages in SkippyIM®, answering the high-priority ones and flagging others for later.

Second-in-Command Skippy’s face was on the full-scale LCD screen on one wall. She was up on the Justice League’s Watchtower station with a contingent of Skippys. Beside her was Murphy.

The Head Skippy asked, “How is it going up there?”

Murphy replied, “The League made one of their ships available for the rescue effort. When we’ve got it fixed up, we’ll fly out to the spot where the wormhole disappeared.”

Second-in-Command Skippy said, “I’ve got our boys calibrating some sensors to install on the ship. We’re hoping that the wormhole left some sort of radiation signature. There may even be a trail that will lead back to the wormhole’s point of origin. We could at least work out which direction Superman and Max were taken.”

Murphy said, “Once we do that, Hawkwoman will have a Thanagarian cruiser ready for interstellar flight. We’re already working on the crew – Hawkwoman herself and the Martian Manhunter; the Blue Beetle will go along for his technical expertise; I’ll be leading some Skippys, too.”

The word nobody was using was “maybe”. Maybe there would be a radiation trail – maybe they could work out which way they’d gone – maybe the Justice League and the Skippys would be able to find them. Too many maybes.

But there was nothing else that anyone could do.

The Head Skippy said, “Murph, have you heard back from the Green Lantern Corps?”

“John Stewart is off on Corps business in Sector 3050. Hal Jordan wants to go along – he’s known Supes for years – and he’s heading back for Earth as fast as he can. Hopefully he’ll be here in time to go along. As for the rest of the Corps – haven’t heard a thing. The Oans don’t seem all that concerned, but that’s them. Who knows what they’re thinking?”

“Right. Okay, guys, I’ll let you get back to it. Keep me informed.” Murphy and Second-in-Command Skippy nodded, and the screen went blank. A second later, a series of memos and reports started flashing up.

The Head Skippy leaned back and started reading the reports. If anything needed his attention, someone would call him. The Head Skippy was in charge of their end of the rescue work, but he did not believe in breathing down his people’s necks. He had good people in charge of parts of the rescue, and he trusted them to do good work in his absence. To the Head Skippy, micromanagement was bad management.

Things were proceeding smoothly. Between them, the Justice League and the Skippys stood a good chance of finding Superman and Max.

Maybe.

To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

Part 5


Kal-El and Max were escorted by Lord Kaa to the arena early the next morning, about two hours before the fight was scheduled. The bleachers were already filling up. Two Yvmneqf were examining the cage. To one side, another Yvmneq was bent over an electronic console. Unlike the other Yvmneqf that they’d seen, this one was small and gangly. Lord Kaa pointed him out and said, “That one is named Gbnql. He is a technician and will monitor the force field. If either you or Ovt Tnybbf touch the field, it will be recorded and he will determine if it is a legitimate hit.” Max thought Gbnql looked nervous. It didn’t seem like a natural state for a reptilian creature.

To one side, Ovt Tnybbf was doing some warming-up exercises. He looked over at Kal-El and flexed his biceps in a very human way, and he smiled grimly in an all-too-human way. Kal-El smiled back.

Lord Kaa said, “Kal of the House of El, is there anything that I can do for you while you are fighting?”

Kal-El replied, “It’s very kind of you to ask. Will you look after my friend Max?”

He held Max out and Lord Kaa took the ferret. The reptilian’s grasp was gentle. He said, “I will be glad to care for your –”

Max said, “Please don’t.”

“– your traveling companion for you. For now, you must train for the battle. We will leave you.”

Max said, “Best of luck, Kal.”

“Thanks, Max. I’ll see you later.”

Lord Kaa wasn’t a bad person, really, once you got to know him. Once Max got past Lord Kaa’s “pet” bias, the two of them had a pleasant conversation. The preparations for the fight weren’t that interesting to watch, and Lord Kaa took Max on a tour of the arena complex.

Most of the other fight cages scattered around the arena were empty; Kal-El’s match with Ovt Tnybbf was the star attraction that day.

There was one other cage that was being used, however. It was smaller than the one Kal would be in, only about four feet high and eight in diameter. Two Yvmneqf were seated at consoles on opposite sides of the cage.

There were two robots fighting each other in the cage, gleaming metal with ovoid torsos and spindly arms and legs. Built into the right arm of each robot was a small lance, and each left arm held a shield with a mirror-reflective surface.

Max watched the robots circle each other, swinging with the lances and blocking the blows with the shields. He looked more closely at the two Yvmneqf, who seemed to be concentrating closely on the match. They wore metallic skullcaps. Max noticed that the Yvmneqf’s body language seemed to match the movements of the robots – and in some cases seemed to anticipate the moves.

Lord Kaa said, “This as a sporting event that we particularly like. The headgear that they wear, you see –”

“I think I can guess. Those skullcaps are thought-transference devices, right? They’re controlling those robots mentally.”

Lord Kaa looked thoughtfully down at the ferret in his arms. “That is correct. It seems that I underestimated your intelligence. I apologize. With the robots, the two Yvmneqf can conduct a duel without actually fighting themselves.”

The match ended in a way Max hadn’t anticipated. Abruptly, a bolt of energy shot out from the tip of one of the lances. The robot swung its arm around and the energy bolt passed across the other robot. The middle portion of the torso disappeared, and the robot fell to the ground in two pieces. Lord Kaa said, “A disintegrator ray. It will slice through anything – except the shields, which will reflect the ray away harmlessly. It will not penetrate the force field about the Ring, either.”

The two controllers stood up from the consoles. The losing Yvmneq removed his control cap and bowed deeply to the winner. The winner bowed in return. The two left the small cage together; behind them, an attendant came up and cleaned up the remains of the losing robot.

Max said, “Interesting…” Thoughts were forming in his head. He remembered the feeling of helplessness of last night.

Finally he made a decision. He looked up at the Reptilian and said, “Lord Kaa?”

“Yes?”

“I challenge you to a duel.”

Lord Kaa stared down at the ferret. “What do you –”

Max pointed at the cage. “Two robots at ten paces. Or whatever units of measurement you want to use.”

“But why do you challenge me?”

“You called me a pet. You called me a pet more than once. I am not a pet. I am an intelligent, rational being, and I consider the term ‘pet’ to be insulting. I am challenging you to a duel to defend my honor.”

The Reptilian stared at the robot Ring for a few moments. The sand had been smoothed out and there was no sign of the previous battle.

“It is possible… But are you intelligent enough, little one, to control the robot mentally?”

There was a trace of ice in Max’s voice. “I and my kind are quite developed mentally, thank you. Please be careful, Lord Kaa, or you will offer further insult.”

“I withdraw the question.” Lord Kaa had the grace to do that much. He thought for a moment. “Yes… Such a match is possible… With the robots, the difference in our sizes would mean nothing.”

He looked down at Max. “We have control caps in your size. That is not a problem. But…” Lord Kaa’s brow wrinkled. “We are of different species, you and I. Our kind developed on different planets. Our neural systems may be completely different. The control devices are wired to work with the Yvmneq nervous system. They may not do so well with creatures from Earth.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out, is there?”

Lord Kaa summoned another Yvmneq named Freinag and ordered him to bring two robots over and two control caps. One of the caps that Freinag returned with was much smaller than the other.

Lord Kaa gave the smaller skullcap to Max to examine. The inner surface was densely packed with circuitry and over a dozen electrodes. There were two notches in the edge of the helmet which would fit closely around Max’s ears. It didn’t look uncomfortable.

Max handed the helmet back. “It looks like it will fit just fine. Okay, next step?”

Freinag tinkered with the helmet and one of the robots. Soon he said, “The helmet is synchronized with the Fighter Robot, Lord.”

Lord Kaa replied, “Good. Thank you.” He turned to Max. “It is ready. Will you test it?”

“Yes, please.” Max took the helmet back and placed it over his head. Freinag leaned down and adjusted one final circuit.

Max’s skull felt like it exploded, over and over again. All five of his senses became scrambled, along with a couple more senses that he hadn’t known about. He felt purple. He tasted green. He touched a scream that crawled up the wall; he never did figure out whose scream it was. Finally he blacked out.

Max had no idea how long he was out. Lord Kaa was looking frantic, odd for a Reptilian to show compassion. “Max?! Max! Are you all right?”

It took a few moments for Max to recalibrate his senses. “Ump. Urk. Gloob. Umm… Yes, I think so. I’ve got a headache now, though. Whoa, that’s a trip I don’t want to take again! You were right. Yvmneq and Earth neural processes must be too different. The mental control thing isn’t gonna work for me.”

Lord Kaa sighed. “I was afraid of that. I think you have no choice but to withdraw your challenge.”

Max’s headache abruptly was gone. “Ohh, no. I will not withdraw it. I will fight for my honor, even if it means dragging myself by my arms and gnawing on your ankle!”

Max looked at the small control helmet. “There must be some way of recalibrating that thing – Hay, wait a minute.”

Max’s eyes narrowed and he looked at the helmet more closely. “Lord Kaa, just why do the Yvmneq have a thought-control helmet small enough to fit a ferret’s head?”

The Yvmneq Lord replied, “There is a creature on this world that we call a Sreerg. Except for the fact that you only have two eyes, and that your mouth is horizontal, you are remarkably like a sreerg. This helmet fits the skull of a sreerg.”

“I see. Is this… sreerg an intelligent creature, then? Can it control a robot?”

“No, it is not. The helmet was not meant to send thoughts, but to receive them.”

He indicated the robots. “Many years ago, we used a variation of the Fighter to conduct some of these games. The torso is hollow and large enough to hold a sreerg. There are controls for the occupant to manipulate the arms and legs of the robot. A thought-control cap was placed on the head of the sreerg, and contestants would manipulate the sreerg’s legs mentally to move the robot’s limbs. It was said to take more skill to fight that way.”

Max was shocked. He stared at the Yvmneq Lord. “You – you used those dumb creatures to fight your games?! That’s horrible!!”

Lord Kaa nodded. “I agree with you; it was barbaric. We eventually realized this and abandoned the practice. The sreerg is now a protected species, and some of us keep them as pets.”

“Well, that’s better.” Max thought for a moment. “Those other robots, though – the ones that a sreerg could fit in. Do you still have some around?”

“I believe that we do, yes.”

“So I could climb into one and I could manipulate the robot’s limbs, couldn’t I? I could fight that way.”

Lord Kaa looked down at Max. Max looked right back. The Reptilian said, “I cannot talk you out of this? It would be far more dangerous for you.”

Lord Kaa was right. Max could be killed by the disintegrator ray. He said, “No, you can’t talk me out of it. I must do this.”

“Very well.” Lord Kaa turned. “Freinag? Do we have one of the older Fighters for a sreerg?”

“I’m sure we do, Lord Kaa. But I feel that I must point out that this is all a lot of trouble to go to for someone’s pet.”

Lord Kaa heard something go hissss. He turned to look down at Max. The ferret’s eyes were now slits, and something looked different about him. Then the Reptilian realized that the creature’s ears seemed to have disappeared. But there they were, folded flat against Max’s skull.

“Freinag?”

“Lord Kaa?”

“I don’t believe that you should have said that.”

##################

The Memorial Garden was the most peaceful place in the Skippy Compound. There were hundreds of headstones and monuments scattered around, surrounded by shrubs and flowers that the Skippy caretaker always kept neat and trim. The monuments and stones listed the names of many, many ferrets, both Mustela sapiens and the Domestic kind, the companions of human friends. There were many human names as well.

Winding through the monuments were neat little paths, kept in fine condition by the caretaker. There were many benches scattered about, mainly ferret-sized, but a few were for humans.

As busy a Rabbi as he was, Sammy always took time to wander the Memorial Garden. It helped to calm his soul. He would stop to look at a name and let the memories flow. Most recently he’d assisted in the installation of the monument to the former residents of Poland. Beneath the tall obelisk were buried the bones of the Jewish ferrets that they’d brought to America, and on the sides were some names, but far too many “Unknowns”. One of the actual names was DANIEL, the ferrets’ first Rabbi. Elsewhere in the Garden had been a special stone marked DAVID; he’d been disinterred, to be reburied next to his brother.

It was a cool morning, and Sammy was walking along the path to a stone marked NOAH, perhaps even more special than David’s had been. He rounded a corner, and there on a large bench near the stone was sitting a human female.

Lois Lane looked up at the Rabbi’s approach and smiled. “Hi, Sammy.”

“Hello, Lois. Welcome to the Garden. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“You never are. I wanted my privacy, but now I feel like company.”

Sammy sat down on a ferret-sized bench. He asked, “How are you doing, Lois?”

Lois Lane looked at the ferret. She knew that it was not a trivial question. She sighed. “Oh, I’m doing as well as can be expected. Do you know how the rescue operation is going?”

“It’s proceeding well, from what I’ve heard. The Skippys figure that the spaceship will be ready to leave by this afternoon. They’re working as fast as they can, Lois.”

“I know. I’m just – a little anxious.”

“We all are. But I know that you’ve more reason to be anxious than others.”

Lois nodded. “Yes, thank you for that.” She looked out over the Garden. One of the taller monuments was nearby; on the side was the single word HAGERSTOWN. “That makes it particularly hard, though. Whenever he goes off and disappears, a lot of people become concerned. I certainly do, for better reasons than they. But I don’t dare show it.”

It was easy to talk to Sammy. Lois continued. “He’s not just Superman – he’s Clark. He’s my Clark. But that’s a secret that he has to keep – and so do I. I can’t show the world how concerned I am for him.

“Sometimes it’s a burden, Sammy. Whenever Superman goes missing, Clark does, too. That’s quite a coincidence, right? And we both have to make certain that nobody notices it. Oh, there are tricks. Clark Kent is a quiet guy and not many people notice if he’s not around – at least for awhile. And I make excuses. The ‘Daily Planet’ has always had a liberal attitude for leaves of absence – I think that’s part of the reason Clark looked for a job there. Clark’s a good reporter, so they overlook his absence, as long as he has a legitimate excuse and he gets his stories in on time. As far as the ‘Planet’ knows, Clark’s parents are old and feeble and need a lot of help around the Kent Farm. And Clark is sick a lot – or I’m sick and need care. Or – you get the idea. I sometimes worry that we’ll run out of excuses and somebody will start wondering. So far, we’ve been lucky.”

“Hopefully, your luck will hold. Other people have led double lives and have been even more successful. History has many examples.”

Lois nodded. Then she smiled at Sammy and said, “Do you remember what it was like when Superman first appeared in public?”

“Oh, yes! He caused a sensation.”

“There had been costumed mystery men before. But Superman is different, and you could see it right from the start. It isn’t just how powerful he is. I think it’s his –” Lois made a gesture with her hands. “– his philosophy. Some superheroes fight crime. He does that, but for the most part, he simply uses his powers to help. No matter how big the job, he does it for the sake of others. It must be that Kansas upbringing. And you could see it from the start.”

“I know. My Father took one look at the news reports and said, ‘Now that’s a nice guy!’ Never underestimate the power of a nice guy. Dad always enjoyed your articles in the ‘Daily Planet’, by the way. I think he still has his scrapbook.”

“Thank you. I was involved right from the start. I think it affected me. There have been superheroes for a long time, and there have been superhero fans for just about as long – I guess they’re Groupies now. Superman has his own fans, too, and they’re a unique lot. I’d say they want to be a combination mother, lover and protector. I ought to know. I was one of them from the start, and everyone knew it. They called me, ‘Superman’s Girlfriend’. I’ve never cared much for that nickname. I think every human female on the planet wants to be Superman’s girlfriend.”

Sammy thought of Clarissa, but said nothing.

Lois continued. “It’s different with Clark, though. I had a thing for Superman, but it was no more than a crush, just like everyone else had. But with Clark, my feelings just… grew.”

Lois looked at a couple of headstones nearby. The names were HONEY and SUGAR, and someone had placed bouquets of roses on the ground in front of them. “When Clark first hired on at the ‘Planet’, I’m afraid I wasn’t very civil toward him. I had a plum position as a top reporter, and I looked on him as a rival. He turned out to be good at his job – plus he’s always been a fast typist. So we didn’t get along, and I pulled some dirty tricks on him. Reporters are like that. But he never pulled any tricks on me in return.

But time went on, and things between us changed. We learned to respect each other, and we became friendly rivals. Then we were colleagues, and then we were partners. And of course we became friends. And then we became more than friends. And after that…”

“I know how it happens.”

“Of course you do. But there was always the Secret between us. Has anyone ever told you how I found out Clark’s big secret?”

“No, they haven’t.”

“It’s quite simple, really. Clark told me.”

Lois was looking at the memories. “Oh, my. I think I’d had some suspicions at first, when Clark and Superman appeared on the scene at the same time. And you never saw them together, and things like that. But I never took any of that seriously. But to have him actually tell you… And show you…

“It was a major shock. We’d been a couple for quite awhile, and everyone was thinking of the ‘M’ word – I know we both did. And then he sprang this on me. I had to back away and think for a few weeks.

“In a way I resented not being told sooner, like maybe around the time we first met. Why didn’t he tell me then? Didn’t he know that he could trust me?”

Sammy said, “I’m sure that every Super-Groupie would say the same thing.”

“Oh, that’s a good one. And you’d be right. I got away from that nonsense and started thinking. When would he have known that he could trust me? Back then, I would have looked on it as the story of the Century, and it would have made my reputation. Oh, no, he would have been an idiot to share his big secret with me, back then.”

“But once you two became serious, when would be a good time to tell you?”

“You’re good at this, Rabbi. When, indeed? I would have had to find out sooner or later. It’s not something to put off until just before the wedding. And he would never have considered keeping it a secret after the wedding – that would be a lousy start to a marriage. But when would be the right time to tell me? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there never would have been a ‘best’ time to tell me. So Clark told me about his alter ego when he did, and I came to terms with it. A couple of months later, Clark actually got down on his knees and proposed to me.

“And I soon realized something. His is the greatest secret in the world. Only a handful of humans – and ferrets – know it. He revealed it to me before he asked me to marry him. I had a choice. I could have said ‘No’ to his proposal. And he trusted me enough to tell me his secret first. That is what Clark and I have between us.”

Sammy smiled. “I think the marriage was a foregone conclusion. You two make a wonderful couple.”

“Thank you, Rabbi. It’s still not easy. What Clark does when he puts on that blue suit and red cape is dangerous. I can’t say that I don’t fear for him. He’s even been killed once – by that Doomsday creature. Oh, he came back from the dead, all right, but he won’t be able to next time. We’ve been told that. When he disappears like this, I can’t help but wonder – will this be it?

“But I will tell you this, Sammy, I will not stop him from fighting his never-ending battle. That’s who Superman is, and the world needs him.”

“Lois, Clark is very fortunate to have a helpmate like you. I know he’s as proud of you as you are of him.” Sammy turned his head to one side. “You know, I believe I hear someone coming.”

“Right. We’ll table the discussion, then. Thank you, Rabbi. It helped.”

Soon Clarissa came around the bend and her face lit up. “Hello, sweetheart! Ms. Lane! It’s nice to see you! To what do we owe this visit?”

Lois smiled back. “Oh, I like to come up here to the Memorial Garden once in awhile. It’s a nice place.”

“So where’s Clark? Is your husband doing alright?”

Lois tried to be nonchalant. “Oh, he’s doing fine. He’s just busy, that’s all.” Lois looked at Clarissa and smiled again.

Clarissa smiled back. She said nothing, though, and Lois thought that there was an odd look in her eyes.

Human and ferret looked at each other for a second. Lois finally turned to Sammy and said, “She’s figured it out, hasn’t she?”

Sammy replied, “Well, I’m not sure –”

“Oh, it’s no surprise. I wouldn’t put anything past you ferrets! Murphy figured it out. You figured it out! Okay, Clarissa, you’re right – my husband Clark really is Superman.”

Sammy looked at Clarissa. Her eyes were about to pop out of her head. He said, “Um, dear heart? You had figured it out, hadn’t you?”

She turned to Sammy. “Huh? No! No, I had no –” She stared at Lois again. “– I had no idea.”

The human stared back. Finally Lois bowed her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Oh, Lord. I got that one entirely wrong. Do you ferrets realize how difficult it is to read your faces?”

Clarissa’s mind was catching up with what she’d just heard. “Clark is Superman? And Superman and Max disappeared yesterday, and –” Her eyes grew round. “Oh, no. Your husband! He’s gone! What you must be feeling…” Clarissa came forth and put her paw on Lois’ knee. “Oh, you poor dear.”

This was too much for Lois. A tear trickled down her cheek. “Sometimes it is such a burden.”

Clarissa exchanged a look with Sammy. The Rabbi cleared his throat and said, “Well, I have to be going. I’ll leave you two alone. Nice to see you again, Lois. Later, my dear.”

Sammy kissed Clarissa and walked down the path. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he looked back. Clarissa had climbed up on the bench and was sitting by Lois’ side. He could see the human talking, and Clarissa was listening closely.

Sammy smiled and turned the corner out of sight.


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

Part 6


The Yvmneqf had completed their examination and had found it satisfactory. Kal-El and Ovt Tnybbf now stood in the middle of the cage. The door was closed, and the nervous-looking Gbnql turned the force field on. The bars glowed softly with blue light.

The bleachers were now full, but the crowd was relatively quiet. The Yvmneq did not seem to be a demonstrative race. But there was a sense of anticipation. They were very interested in this contest.

The most prominent seat in the bleachers was another simple throne occupied by Queen Zvff Uvff. She was speaking softly to a nearby Yvmneq, most likely an advisor, about something. A little bit of government business, perhaps. Kal-El wondered idly just what kind of political setup the Yvmneq had. Was the Queen an absolute monarch, or were there a prime minister and a cabinet somewhere? Odd what goes through a person’s mind in a moment like this.

It wasn’t long before the Yvmneq advisor nodded and walked away to do whatever it was. Queen Zvff Uvff stood up then and held a hand up for silence. Not that there was much noise being made by the crowd anyway.

The Queen spoke. “Kal of the House of El, the rules of the Game have been explained to you already, but I will repeat them now.

“The object of the game is to defeat your opponent in combat. If a fighter is rendered unconscious or incapacitated, he has lost. If a fighter’s body is in contact with the floor of the Ring of Battle for a significant amount of time, he has lost. If a fighter comes in contact with the force field around the cage, he has lost.

“There is only one restriction placed on the method of fighting. There are no weapons allowed in the Ring of Battle. All fighting is with the fighters’ bodies.”

Kal-El could have sworn that he heard Ovt Tnybbf snort, but he wasn’t sure.

Queen Zvff Uvff continued. “Kal of the House of El. Ovt Tnybbf. Are you ready for the Game to begin?”

Kal-El replied, “I am, Your Majesty.”

Ovt Tnybbf simply said, “Yes.”

“Very well.” The Reptilian Queen bowed her head, and so did all of the spectators. Kal-El felt it was only polite to do so.

He may have heard a slight sound. He may even have a sixth sense about such things, like Batman. Kal-El just knew to drop to down to his knee. A large, scaled arm swept by just over his head.

Ovt Tnybbf was spun around with the force of a blow that hadn’t landed. Kal-El jumped up and grabbed the beefy arm and began to climb. When he’d reached the vicinity of the upper torso, he swung his fist and connected with the Yvmneq’s temple.

Ovt Tnybbf roared and tried to make a grab for Kal-El, but he missed. Kal-El sailed over the Yvmneq’s head and leapt through the air to land on his feet. Ovt Tnybbf shouted something that his translation disc couldn’t handle and lunged at Kal-El. Kal backed away and the two began to circle each other.

The Yvmneq audience began to make some noise. This was apparently going to be more interesting than they’d anticipated.

##################

Max looked at the sreerg combat suit and couldn’t help but think of it as a mecha from some anime cartoon. It was vaguely humanoid, and there was a transparent canopy so he could see what he was doing.

Max was thankful that he didn’t suffer from claustrophobia. The torso was big enough for a full-grown ferret to fit in, more or less comfortably, but only just. The interior seemed to be well-ventilated, so overheating wouldn’t be a problem.

There were ferret-size handgrips and foot pedals. Lord Kaa demonstrated them. “These grips control the arms of the suit. You can move the arms easily up and down and side to side. In addition, this is the trigger on the right grip which fires the energy ray from the lance. The ray can be fired at any time, but there is only so much energy in the power system, so don’t use it too much. It is also considered bad form to rely too much on the disintegrator ray. The foot pedals, of course, work the legs in a similar way.”

Max looked at the trigger, and then at his right paw. He looked up and said, “I don’t suppose you have one of these things for a left-handed critter?”

Lord Kaa stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s just that I’m left-handed. That means I favor my left hand over my right. Back on Earth, some humans and some of us ferrets are born that way. No one really knows why. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

Lord Kaa said nothing.

Max said, “Um… that’s not the case here, is it?”

“It is not.”

“Ah.” Max looked at the mecha. “Well, never mind. I’ll be fine.” I hope.

Or maybe he wouldn’t be. “Um. I can’t use my legs. I won’t be able to work the foot pedals?”

“I have thought of that. The thought-control technology can be useful here. We can connect the legs of the robot to some electrodes that can be attached to the skin close to your spine. You could then control the legs mentally through your spine. It will still be painful because of the difference in nervous systems. However, you may still choose to concede –”

“Connect me up, then.”

They shaved two small patches of hair from Max’s back, next to his upper spine. Max found that using this setup did indeed cause pain. The intensity of the pain varied, depending on how hard he worked at it. It was not as bad as scrambling his brain, however, and he figured that he could almost get used to it. The seat was slightly uncomfortable. After all that he’d been through since the previous day, Max still had his cellphone, and the shape of the seat caused it to press against his hip. Naturally he was out of his coverage area, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying to make a call several times.

The Yvmneq technicians connected the electrodes on Max’s back to the wiring in the mecha and lowered him in. They then closed the small canopy, and Max was cut off from the outside world.

Max began testing his controls. He could move the mechanical arms quite easily. He had better control over the left one, with the mirror shield. At least he’d be quick on the defense.

Max’s opponent would be Lord Kaa himself. The reptilian sat behind an electronic
Console, just outside the small Ring. In front of the Yvmneq lord was one of the thought-control caps. Across the small arena was the robot that Lord Kaa would be controlling.

As Max flexed his robotic arms, he stole a glance at the robot. It was standing there, as unmoving as a rock. There was no head, just a smooth top to the torso, but Max still got the feeling that it was staring at him. Max had to admit that it was tempting to just let loose with his disintegrator ray and tear that smug robot to pieces right from the beginning, before they even started. But Max would never do that. That wouldn’t have been fair.

Finally Max was satisfied that he could control the mecha’s arms. Now he started working with the legs.

Not surprisingly, it was hard. Max was using thought processes that he hadn’t used since the accident that had paralyzed him so long ago. He finally managed to get the legs to move, but it was jerky and awkward. And the pain was always there.

Lord Kaa said nothing and waited while Max got used to the setup. The Yvmneq lord was the embodiment of patience. Max could practice all day as far as he seemed to care. Three Yvmneqf had become interested in this small contest and stood nearby watching and muttering among themselves. Max couldn’t read the Yvmneq, so he didn’t know what they thought of the little Earth creature with the nerve to challenge one of their own.

However, Max didn’t want to put it off forever. He figured that no amount of practice would make him any better at working the mecha. So, after a few final moves, Max stood at attention.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

They’d installed a small radio in the mecha. Lord Kaa replied, “Very well.” He then bowed his head. In his little cockpit, Max did the same.

Lord Kaa placed the control cap on his head, and his robot moved into position. It raised its lance and shield. Max did the same.

##################

Bruce Wayne had begun their training sessions by talking about his philosophy for battle. Apart from his commendable attitude about not using guns, it essentially boiled down to using whatever fighting techniques that worked. At one point, Bruce had said, “Always look for your opponent’s weak spot. Exploit that and you can beat him.”

Clark had thought about this. It sounded obvious, even a bit trivial. But he’d thought that he could see a flaw. He’d said, “I’ve fought some very powerful customers. I don’t think some of them had a weak spot!”

Bruce had given him That Look and had replied, “Everyone has a weak spot.”

Since then, Superman had discovered many times that this was true. Kal-El was certain that Ovt Tnybbf had a weak spot, but at the moment he was having a tough time finding it.

Earth’s champion was hopping around the ring, avoiding the giant Yvmneq and trying to land as many punches and kicks as he could. The reduced gravity gave him extra mobility, and he could hop up high enough to land some blows on that monstrous head. The ears and nose did not prove vulnerable – Kal-El wasn’t even sure where they were – nor did the not-soft-after-all underbelly. He even tried something as dirty as a rabbit punch, but the back of the Yvmneq’s neck was as solid as anything else. So Kal-El kept jumping and taking potshots.

A couple of times, Kal-El was unlucky enough to get caught by Ovt Tnybbf and got tossed around. He landed hard on the sand, but fortunately he hadn’t gotten seriously injured yet. Some bruises and cuts, nothing more. Kal-El quickly resumed harassing his opponent.

At one point, Ovt Tnybbf stopped and shouted “Enough!!” He turned to the throne. “Your Majesty, order this Kr– this creature from Earth to stop this foolish behavior and fight like a true warrior! This is a fight, not some ridiculous dance!”

Queen Zvff Uvff looked at Ovt Tnybbf thoughtfully. She then turned and said, “Kal of the House of El, how do you reply to this?”

Kal-El said, “Your Majesty, I cannot possibly fight as a warrior. I am physically weaker than my opponent.”

“Ha! He admits defeat, my Queen! He is weaker than I!” Ovt Tnybbf raised his muscular arms and strutted around the Ring. He shouted to the bleachers, “I claim victory in this contest!”

Surprisingly, there were no answering cheers from the audience. Kal-El couldn’t be sure, but he thought that the Yvmneqf in the bleachers didn’t agree.

Queen Zvff Uvff said, “I believe, Ovt Tnybbf, that your opponent said that he is only physically weaker than you. Kal of the House of El, Do you admit defeat?”

Was there a touch of amusement in the Queen’s voice? Kal-El replied, “No, I do not, Your Majesty.”

The Queen nodded. “As I have said, there are no restrictions in fighting technique. Ovt Tnybbf, the claim is denied. Let the contest continue!”

Ovt Tnybbf snarled in disappointment and swung at his opponent. It was a bad move. Kal-El easily ducked by dropping to the ground. He’d been thinking of weak spots, and while he was down there, he kicked out at Ovt Tnybbf’s knee.

The Yvmneq lost his balance and fell heavily to the sand. He didn’t stay down long. In an instant Ovt Tnybbf was up again and lunging for Kal-El. Kal-El easily avoided him and danced around the Ring.

So the huge Reptilian did have a weak spot. Not much of one, but things were that much less hopeless now.

And noises were starting to come from the bleachers. The spectators were actually getting interested.

##################

Max didn’t know if gambling was a part of Yvmneq fight culture, but the three spectators did seem to be eagerly following the duel.

Lord Kaa’s robot swung its lance arm at Max’s mecha, but he easily parried it with his shield. In return, he swung his lance, but it was a mediocre blow; the robot countered it easily.

Max was moving around, but it was poor legwork. He stumbled and somehow managed to keep from falling over. All the while, pain was jabbing at his upper spine. The robot moved much more swiftly and surely. Max wondered if Lord Kaa was actually holding back. But, no, Max was sure that the Yvmneq lord wouldn’t do that. Perhaps Max was really holding his own.

The robot’s lance swung around and the ray beam shot out. Max brought up his shield in time and the deadly ray was reflected to one side and splashed against the side of the cage. The force field absorbed the ray beam with a small explosion of sparks and electricity.

Max wondered how Kal-El was doing. Max hadn’t had a chance to talk to him before the contest had begun. Did Kal-El even know that Max was fighting on his own?

The mecha and the robot circled one another, each one trying to find an opening. Why had Max challenged Lord Kaa to this duel? What had he been thinking? It was one thing to mentally control robots. But Max was actually in the Ring, fighting an opponent with a disintegrator ray. A ferret could get killed that way.

Max got distracted, and that proved to be a grievous error. Suddenly, the robot swung the lance around and shot a bolt of deadly energy. Max was caught off guard, and he forgot that his defense was in his right arm.

He swung his left arm up to fend off the disintegrator ray…

##################

Ovt Tnybbf simply didn’t have a good way to protect his legs. If he bent down, Kal-El would jump on his back and pound his head a few times. The Yvmneq fighter would reach up in anger, but Kal-El had already jumped down to the cage floor again. Then he’d kick Ovt Tnybbf’s legs and knock him down.

One time Ovt Tnybbf fell down hard and rolled on the floor for a second, kicking up a huge gout of sand. Kal-El watched as the cloud of sand contacted the force field. The result was a glittering, sparkly effect along a large portion of the energy field. For all the urgency of the battle, Kal-El found the effect fascinating.

He turned to Queen Zvff Uvff. “Excuse me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, native of Earth?”

Kal-El pointed at the cage bars. “Not that this makes a difference one way or another, but when the sand touches the force field – does that count for something?”

The Queen frowned. “Count for something? – Oh, you mean in the outcome of the contest? No, it doesn’t. It is not uncommon for it to happen, but we pay no attention to it.”

“Ah. That’s what I thought. I was just curious. Thank YOUUU!!!”

A big scaly fist had slammed into Kal-El’s shoulder, and he was sent staggering. Ovt Tnybbf had taken advantage of the lull in fighting to ambush his opponent. Kal-El tried to get control of himself again by digging his heels in the sand. He hoped –

Kal-El’s left heel slammed into something solid and he fell hard. He’d tripped over something just beneath the surface of the red sand, and he was down now. His foot had twisted around sharply.

Kal-El realized that this was it; he’d lost. Ovt Tnybbf would take advantage of this and be on him at the first opportunity.

But Kal-El soon realized that Ovt Tnybbf wasn’t moving. The Yvmneq was just standing there, glowering down at him. The spectators began to mutter in confusion, and the Queen was staring. They had no idea what to make of this behavior.

Ovt Tnybbf grumbled, “So, you found it, did you? I should have buried it deeper. No matter. It’s time to end this ridiculous playing.” He strode forward and plunged his hand into the sand where Kal-El had tripped.

Within a moment, he pulled out a large metal rod, buried just beneath the sand floor, and held it high enough for everyone to see.

Queen Zvff Uvff jumped to her feet and shouted, “Ovt Tnybbf, you know full well that no weapons are permitted in the Ring of Battle! You have broken the rules and forfeited the contest!”

Ovt Tnybbf waved the rod over his head and shouted back. “Enough of these foolish rules! The Yvmneq were once great warriors and we would grind our enemies into the dirt in their defeat! We have turned out backs on the glory of battle! We have become weak and soft! All for the sake of rules!

“NO MORE! I will fight this Kryptonian as a proper warrior, as I choose, without rules!” He held out the rod. “Oh, I assure you, Your Majesty, that I have no intention of using this as a weapon. It will be useful in getting us out of here!”

Ovt Tnybbf turned and thrust the rod at the cage bars.


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

Part 7


Max stared down at the stump of his arm.

He had to look down in his cockpit to remind himself that his real arm was still intact. The end of the mecha’s right arm was gone, though, and the stump emitted some electrical sparks. The lance had been cut in two by the disintegrator ray and now lay on the cage floor.

Lord Kaa’s voice came over the radio. “Max, you have been a brave fighter, but you are now helpless. It will not be a dishonor to concede the fight. You can still defend yourself for some time, but it will accomplish nothing.”

The three spectators made noises of agreement, and they said some words about a good fight. Max only half-listened to this over his radio. He had lost, and he was beginning to feel the despair. All he could do was move what was left of the right arm around. He even pressed the trigger, but nothing happened.

He moved the left arm with the shield around. He could handle it just fine. It would be easy to stave off any further disintegrator attacks, but it would just put off the inevitable.

Max brought the shield up closer and looked at the mirror finish. He was thinking.

Then he dropped the shield to his side. Max willed himself to relax his left hand on the control, and he began to search for calmness in the center of his soul.

When he judged that he was ready, Max stood straight and said, “No. I will not concede defeat. We will have to play this to the end.”

The Yvmneq outside the arena gazed at the mecha in the ring and were silent. Finally Lord Kaa said, “You do not have to do that. You will die –”

“If I’m to die, so be it. I will not admit defeat.”

Max heard one of the Yvmneq spectators say, “This creature of Earth is indeed brave!” The other two agreed.

Lord Kaa finally said, “Very well, brave one. I will honor your wish. I will make this quick.”

Max didn’t move as he watched the robot raise its lance. The shield remained at its side.

The timing would have to be perfect.

Max’s shield arm shot up at the exact instant as the robot’s lance emitted the disintegrator ray. He blocked it easily, and the ray was deflected away.

Max’s timing had been perfect, and so had been his aim.

The disintegrator ray was reflected from Max’s shield and hit Lord Kaa’s robot dead center. A large circular hole appeared in the torso, reaching completely through to the back. Bits and pieces of internal circuitry were exposed and were sparking, and the ray quickly sputtered out.

Max lowered his shield and gazed at the dead robot. His Dad had always told him that a good defense was the best offense. Or was it that a good offense was the best defense? Either way, Max would have to give his Dad a hug the next time he saw him.

Lord Kaa looked at the robot for a few seconds. Then he stood up and removed the control cap and placed it on the electronic console.

The Yvmneq lord solemnly said, “I concede the contest. Warrior, you fought well. I salute you.”

Lord Kaa bowed deeply toward Max. So did the three spectators.

Max’s emotions almost overwhelmed him. He’d won.

He’d won.

There was only one thing that he could have done. Max bowed his mecha deeply in return.

“Yee-OWTCH!!”

Lord Kaa said, “Warrior, what is wrong?”

Max’s field of view consisted of red sand. “It’s these blasted electrodes stuck to my back! I think I blew them out bending over like this, and now I can’t straighten up or move at all! And my back – Ow, ow, ow! – feels like it’s on fire! Ouch!”

“Wait a moment, warrior. I will remove you from that terrible device.”

Lord Kaa lost no time opening the cage and working on the mecha’s canopy. Soon it was open and the Yvmneq was lifting Max out. The electrodes were quickly removed and Max’s back felt much better.

“Thank you, Lord – Hey!”

Lord Kaa lifted Max high over his head and faced the spectators. All three lifted their arms in the air and began to chant.

“Warrior! Warrior! Warrior!”

Max didn’t know what to think of that, until he realized that they were referring to him!

He was stunned. All he could do at first was stammer. Then, with a lump in his throat, he managed to whisper, “Thank you.”

Lord Kaa began to say, “You deserve our –”, when some pyrotechnics began to take place at another Ring nearby – a Ring with a lot more spectators around it.

Max Said, “What is that all about? Oh, my – that’s where Kal-El is fighting! Oh, no…”

Lord Kaa said, “That’s strange – the force field shouldn’t be getting that much of a workout during a regular contest! We must investigate this.”

Lord Kaa, carrying Max, headed for the Ring, followed by Max’s new fan club.

##################

Ovt Tnybbf used his rod to pound the bars again and again, and sparks were showering from the force field all around the cage. Kal-El lay on the sandy floor. His twisted ankle was beginning to hurt now, and he couldn’t understand what the Yvmneq was doing. Neither could the Queen nor the spectators. It had taken them all by surprise, and no one else moved for a few moments.

It was long enough. The cage bars couldn’t take any more pounding, and one of them broke. The force field quickly shut down. Ovt Tnybbf pounded the bars a few more times, breaking some more, until he had an opening big enough to get out.

Ovt Tnybbf turned around and said, “You are coming with me, Kryptonian!” He grabbed Kal-El roughly by the shoulder and dragged him out of the cage.

Ovt Tnybbf strode over to the electronic console, and he shouted, “Open up the Gate!” The technician Gbnql said and did nothing. His eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets, and he was shaking like a leaf.

Ovt Tnybbf swore. “Weak creature – stand aside and I’ll do it myself!” He pushed Gbnql away from the console and began pushing buttons. A disturbance appeared in the air next to the console and quickly became a small wormhole large enough for Ovt Tnybbf to step through.

People were starting to react now. Several Yvmneqf were heading for Ovt Tnybbf. Queen Zvff Uvff was catching up and passing them. She shouted, “Ovt Tnybbf, what do you think that you’re doing?! A wormhole gate within the confines of the arena is strictly forbidden! You have violated the principles of the Game! You will be stripped of your titles for this! You will be arrested and put on trial! Where do you think you are going?!”

Ovt Tnybbf grinned nastily and said, “I have no use for your titles or your rules or your trials! I will take this Kryptonian –” He held up Kal-El and gave him a vicious shake. “– to another location where we can have a proper fight!” Carrying his opponent, Ovt Tnybbf stepped through the wormhole, and it vanished.

The guards, Lord Kaa and Max, and Queen Zvff Uvff reached the console at the same time. The Queen rapped out, “Find where they have gone!”

One of the guards replied, “I am on it, Your Majesty!” and examined the console. He said, “A Gate control panel has been installed here. An attempt has been made to disguise it, but the purpose is obvious.” He started tapping buttons. “I will bring up the Gate History within moments, Your Majesty.”

Lord Kaa said to Max, “Each wormhole Gate control contains a History file of recent jump activity. It is not difficult to access this.”

Queen Zvff Uvff said, “Ovt Tnybbf did not do this alone. Someone had to have helped him.”

Everyone looked at Gbnql. The nervous little Reptilian would not meet anyone’s eyes.

Finally Gbnql murmured. “My Queen – Your Majesty – I –” He swallowed. “I have – gambling debts.”

Gbnql finally looked up at his Queen. “Ovt Tnybbf knew of my debts. I do not know how he found out. He wanted – my help. And he promised to help repay my debts. If I didn’t help – Ovt Tnybbf said he would expose my secrets. And – my family – he hinted that they would suffer – in many ways –”

Lord Kaa said, “And so you helped him set up his vile scheme.”

“Yes, Lord. I – installed the Gate controls. “Ovt Tnybbf buried the – the rod last night when no one else was around.”

One of the Yvmneq guards said, “But Ovt Tnybbf is our greatest fighter! Why would he do something such as this?”

Queen Zvff Uvff said thoughtfully, “And there is something else. Why did Ovt Tnybbf call Kal of the House of El a Kryptonian?”

Lord Kaa said, “That is not possible! The planet Krypton exploded years ago, and none of the Kryptonians escaped!”

Another guard said, “Well, there are rumors of a single survivor, Lord.”

“Yes, but those are fables! No one takes them seriously!”

“You should.”

Everyone looked at the ferret in Lord Kaa’s arms.

Max continued. “You should because the stories are true. There was one survivor of Krypton’s destruction. And that was Kal-El.”

Queen Zvff Uvff’s voice was filled with awe. “Little one, are you saying that Kal of the House of El – he is the Last Son of Krypton?”

Max replied, “Yes, Your Majesty. His parents placed their baby son in an escape vessel, just before their planet exploded. His vessel eventually landed on Earth. He was raised as a human, and he has adopted Earth as his home.”

The guards whispered excitedly among themselves. The phrase “Last Son” was repeated several times.

Queen Zvff Uvff became all practical again. “If this is true – how did Ovt Tnybbf find out that Kal of the House of El is a Kryptonian?” She looked at Gbnql “What do you know of this?”

Gbnql looked like he wanted to sink right through the floor. Max had never actually seen a reptile blubber before. He watched it happening now.

“Ovt Tnybbf had heard the legends of a surviving Kryptonian, Your Majesty, and he believed them. He wanted to track this survivor down, and he finally came across references to the planet Earth. So –” Gbnql whimpered. “So he arranged to have a wormhole Gate sent to Earth –”

Some of the other Yvmneqf roared in anger. Queen Zvff Uvff said, “The selection process by wormhole is supposed to be random! Ovt Tnybbf usurped this process? He compounds his crimes!”

Lord Kaa asked, “Why did he do all of this?”

Gbnql stammered, “Ovt Tnybbf was deeply affected by the tales of Yvmneq warriors of old. He wanted to return to the glory of the wars of those days.”

Queen Zvff Uvff said, “We nearly tore our civilization apart during those glorious wars!”

Gbnql replied, “I don’t think that Ovt Tnybbf… thought that far ahead, Your Majesty.”

“Apparently not. Continue.”

“Ovt Tnybbf became obsessed with stories of the mighty Kryptonian warriors that we had fought in times past, and he felt that the way to return to our glory days was to best a Kryptonian in battle. But Krypton had renounced its own warrior heritage long ago, and now it was gone – except for one survivor. Ovt Tnybbf came to believe that it was his destiny to fight the Last Son of Krypton. He investigated and heard stories of the Last Son of Krypton living on a small planet called ‘Earth”.

“So he… arranged for the Tvmzb device to be sent to Earth. His thinking was that the people of Earth would send their mightiest warrior to investigate, and that warrior would be the Last Son of Krypton.”

Lord Kaa said, “But that may not necessarily so. What if the one they had sent to investigate turned out to be another warrior besides the Last Son of Krypton?”

“Ovt Tnybbf thought of that, Lord. He was willing to take the chance. If the one sent to investigate was not the Kryptonian, he – we – would send the Tvmzb device back to Earth until we did capture the Last Son of Krypton.”

“But what of the other captured Earthers – what would happen to them?”

Gbnql did not answer. He just looked miserable. Lord Kaa thought of this for a few moments, and then he hissed in anger. It was the most reptilian thing any of the Yvmneq had done so far, and Max was glad that he wasn’t the one being hissed at.

Queen Zvff Uvff said, “I see. Gbnql, you will be punished for aiding in this transgression. But know this – your punishment will be light compared to that of Ovt Tnybbf!”

The space above the electronic console grew dark. The darkness was scattered with images of several multicolored spheres hanging in midair. The technician working on the console looked up and said, “I have accessed the Gate History, Your Majesty!”

Max looked at the spheres and made a guess. “That’s a star map, isn’t it?”

Lord Kaa replied, “Yes, it is, warrior. Look at that.” A red sphere centered itself in the middle of the blackness and began to flash. “That represents this star system. In a few moments the technician will determine the wormhole’s destination.”

Soon the star map moved so that another sphere was centered, and it began flashing. Lord Kaa said, “And that represents the star system where Ovt Tnybbf took your friend. They are on a planet in that system now.”

Queen Zvff Uvff rapped out, “Prepare another wormhole Gate! We will travel there with several soldiers to capture Ovt Tnybbf!”

“Your Majesty!” The Yvmneq guards rushed away.

Max looked at the flashing sphere for a moment. He then said, “Lord Kaa?”

“Yes, warrior?”

“That flashing sphere – the destination. Why is it yellow?”

Lord Kaa replied, “It represents a yellow sun. The planet where Ovt Tnybbf traveled to orbits such a star –

“Warrior, why are you laughing?”

##################

Ovt Tnybbf stepped through the wormhole onto a different world. This one was sunny, pleasant, with grassy, rolling hills. He threw his burden to the ground.

Ka-El felt the difference immediately. The pain in his twisted ankle and in his shoulder blade was washing away like water off of a duck’s back. The cuts, the scrapes, the bruises – he could feel them closing. And his strength – his powers – they were flooding back into him.

They must have come to a planet with a yellow sun, just like Earth’s. He turned around to look.

No, it wasn’t like Earth’s Sun. This sun was closer. That made a difference.

Ovt Tnybbf snarled, “Now, Kal of the House of El, we will not be interrupted. We will fight like true warriors!”

Kal-El stood up, straight and tall. He looked grimly at Ovt Tnybbf and replied, “You no longer have the right to call me by that name. You will call me Superman.”

The Yvmneq gaped at him for a second, and then roared with laughter. “So, Kryptonian, you show some fight after all, do you? Very well, you are Superman, for all it does for you!”

Ovt Tnybbf grinned evilly. “Kal of the House of El, Superman – the name doesn’t matter. We will fight now, and you will be beaten properly! Indeed, I am feeling generous. Perhaps you want the first punch?”

Superman nodded. “I’d like that.”

Ovt Tnybbf chuckled. “Very well. Take it then.” He leaned forward and jutted his chin out.

Superman followed through with an upper cut, and Ovt Tnybbf went suborbital.


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

Part 8


It took some time to refine the wormhole Gate’s History log to find the destination planet within the yellow star system. Once that was done, it took more time to pinpoint the exact position on the planet’s surface where the first wormhole had appeared.

Eventually a second wormhole appeared on the grassy plain, larger than the first. A small platoon of Yvmneq soldiers came through, followed by Lord Kaa, carrying Max. Lastly, Queen Zvff Uvff stepped through with several of her guards. This had been the furthest that the Queen had traveled in a long time.

They hadn’t known what they would find. As it was, neither Ovt Tnybbf nor Kal-El was in sight.

It was an awkward moment. Everyone was stood and looked around. One of the soldiers said, “Where could they be?” He hadn’t expected an answer, but he got one.

Max said, “Look. Up in the sky.”

Everyone looked up.

Another soldier said, “Is that a body? Is it falling?”

Lord Kaa replied, “No, it is not falling. It’s traveling too slowly.”

Someone else said, “There are two of them!”

Superman was gently descending, and he was holding Ovt Tnybbf by the wrist. Actually, it didn’t look so much like Ovt Tnybbf that Superman was carrying as a lumpy Ovt Tnybbf-shaped pillow that could have used some plumping. The Yvmneq was bleeding from the mouth and one eye was developing a beauty of a shiner. Ovt Tnybbf seemed to be having trouble holding his head up.

Superman approached the ground and let go of Ovt Tnybbf so that he was standing up. More or less. The Yvmneq swayed back and forth like an old oak in a strong wind.

Finally Ovt Tnybbf opened his eyes as best he could and focused on Queen Zvff Uvff. He mumbled, “I told you we’ve become weak.” Then he fell over on his face.

Two Yvmneq soldiers dragged Ovt Tnybbf away to the wormhole, and Queen Zvff Uvff looked at Superman. The Man of Steel was dressed in what was left of his blue costume, but he stood tall and dignified. He was obviously not going to take any more guff from anyone. The Queen did not offer any.

But Superman was still respectful of royalty. “Your Majesty,” he said.

Queen Zvff Uvff’s reply was equally respectful, perhaps for the same reason. “Kal of the House of El. I have learned that you are the Last Son of Krypton.”

“I have been called that, Your Majesty.”

“I have also learned that you were brought to us under false pretences. For that alone, we would concede the Game to you. But, in the end, you also won fairly.”

Queen Zvff Uvff turned to look at Max. “And your companion also won his own Game, and, though he is disabled, he has proven himself to be a true warrior.”

Superman looked at Max and raised his eyebrows. Max grinned in return.

Queen Zvff Uvff continued. “Last Son of Krypton, is Earth your home now?”

“It is, Your Majesty.”

“Are you its Protector, then?”

“I suppose I am, Your Majesty. But I am not alone. There are many other beings who serve as Protectors – of Earth and of its inhabitants.”

“I see.” Again, she turned to Max. “Little warrior, are there others like you on Earth?”

“There are thousands more like me, Your Majesty. A few others are disabled, as am I, but most are hale and healthy. And we serve as protectors, too.”

“Your Majesty, may I speak?”

“You may, Kal of the House of El.”

“I want you to be aware of this. Even if I were not there, even if my comrades that I spoke of were not there, even if Max’s kind were not there, even if the ordinary people of Earth were on their own – I do not think that they would take easily to indentured servitude.”

Queen Zvff Uvff looked at Superman for a long time. She finally said, “I take your meaning, Last Son of Krypton. But you have won the Game, and by the rules, the Yvmneq will trouble Earth no more.” The Queen actually smiled. “And from what you have said, I think we should be thankful.

“We will return to our world now. From there, Last Son of Krypton, you and your companion will be returned to Earth.” With that, Queen Zvff Uvff turned and walked to the wormhole Gate.

Lord Kaa held Max out to Superman. “I return this warrior to your care, Kal of the House of El. He has shown much honor this day.” Superman took the ferret into his arms. Lord Kaa exchanged bows with Max and turned to the wormhole.

Superman held Max up and whispered, “What in the world have you been up to?”

Max replied, “Oh, have I got news for you! But let’s get through that thing first.” Superman headed to the wormhole.

##################

The wall screen in the Head Skippy’s office was showing the view from a webcam on the flight deck of the Watchtower station. There were several Justice League spaceships of various sizes scattered about the deck and in hangar bays. Technicians, both human and ferret, swarmed in and out and all over one ship out in the middle of the deck.

A Sable ferret appeared in the cam. Murphy was now wearing a light blue jumpsuit. Already on board the spaceship was a spacesuit his size.

The Head Skippy said, “How’s the fit coming along, Murph?”

“Almost done. The Skippys are almost finished tying the radiation sensors into the control panel, with the Blue Beetle’s help. They’ll be finished soon.”

“Good. What’s there left to do before you’re ready to fly?”

“Not much. I think we’ll be going in less than an hour –”

A flashing red icon appeared in the corner of the screen and an alarm began beeping like crazy. The Head Skippy pressed a button on his computer and the red icon expanded into another webcam view. It was Skippy, the Shop-Floor supervisor for Building 37. The ferret’s dark eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of his head, and he immediately began to babble. “Chief! Chief! You gotta see this!!”

“Oh, Great Caesar’s – Don’t call me ‘Chief’! What’s so all-fired important?”

“Chief, there’s something weird happening on the Main Runway! I’ve never seen anything like it! You gotta see this, Chief!”

“I said –” but Skippy disappeared and the webcam scene switched to an outdoor shot. The Head Skippy recognized the Compound’s main runway.

It looked like a black cloud of some sort was forming just above the surface of the concrete. The Head Skippy thought it was smoke at first, but the cloud began to expand and it was clearly not like any smoke he’d ever seen before.

When the cloud was larger than a grown human, a point of light appeared in the middle. This grew in size and formed some sort of a hole. When it was large enough, the Head Skippy saw that the hole led… somewhere else. Philosophers would have had a field day talking about that “somewhere else”.

When it was big enough, a human stepped through the hole and stood on the runway. He was tall and tousled and was dressed in a torn and tattered blue bodysuit, and he carried a ferret in his arms. The Head Skippy was stunned. It couldn’t be – but it had to be –

The ferret in the webcam was holding a small candy-apple-red object. He tapped at the face of the object and held it up to his ear.

The Head Skippy jumped almost a foot when his telephone rang. He picked up the receiver and said, “Uh… hello?”

“ Great, I’m getting five bars! Hello yourself! Am I interrupting anything?”

“Max!! You’re – you’re –”

“Yep! We’re baa-aack! Didja miss us?”

“Did we – did you – where have you two been?!”

“Oh, that’s a long story. We’ve been a long way away, and I don’t know if we’ll ever figure out where it was. Red sun. Totally different stars in the sky. Alien race. That sort of stuff. Oh, yeah, and Superman and I saved the Earth.”

Somehow that didn’t surprise the Head Skippy. It raised a lot of questions, but for now the Head Skippy thought that he might have trouble expressing himself coherently. Finally his brain settled on practicality. “Um. That’s good. Is there anything we can get you two?”

“Yes. First off, I think we both need a shower. Then it’s probably a good idea to have the Infirmary give us physicals.

“Excuse me a sec – What’s that, Supes?” On the webcam, Superman was leaning over and saying something to Max. “Oh, yeah, the Skippy doctors can handle a Kryptonian. You’d be surprised! – Anyway, we’ll surely need a checkup. We should lend Supes here a set of human-sized coveralls or a jumpsuit; I think he’s good for it.

“I’d get in touch with Sammy if I were you and tell him we’re back. There are people that he ought to get hold of. I’m guessing they’ll be happy to hear Superman’s okay; they might have been worried.”

On the other webcam, the techs and ferrets on the Watchtower flight deck had stopped what they were doing and were staring off to one side. They then broke out into cheers. The news had traveled fast.

Superman was bending down again and saying something. Finally Max said over the phone, “And one important thing. I need some of the enzyme supplement. Then call over to the Skippy Cafeteria and order one Double-Super Large ‘Armageddon’ Pizza with paw-tossed crust.”

Superman bent down and whispered something else. Max nodded.

“Make that one Double-Super Large ‘Armageddon’ Pizza with extra toppings.”


To be continued...

[pauljmsn]

EPILOGUE


One month later

The intercom on the Head Skippy’s buzzed, and he hit the reply button. “Head Skippy. Yes?”

His secretary’s voice came on. “Boss, you’ve got a visitor. Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all. Who is it?”

“It’s the Rabbi’s wife. She says that it’s kindasorta important, but not that important. She can come back later if you prefer.”

“No, no, send her in.”

The office door irised open and Clarissa walked in. She smiled and said, “Hi!”

The Head Skippy smiled in return. “Hello, yourself, Ma’am! Good to see you!” They shook paws and he showed her to a seat.

Clarissa said, “How have things been going? Have things settled down since the big adventure?”

“Not as much as you’d expect. It took several days to debrief Max and Superman, and we and the Justice League still have an ongoing effort to locate the Yvmneq homeworld, but we really don’t have much to go on. To be honest, it may be best to leave well enough alone. But enough about that – what can I do for you, Rebbitzin?”

Clarissa replied, “I have one question to ask you.

“Why do the Skippys have some Kryptonite?”

The Head Skippy looked at her for a long time. Finally he said, “I don’t suppose that it would do any good to say that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Clarissa shook her head. “As you can guess, the life of a Rebbitzin is a busy one. I have a lot on my mind, and there are plenty of things that go on in the synagogue – and here in the Compound, for that matter – that concern me. Not only that, but my husband is constantly going off on adventures. Dangerous adventures.

“I’m always expressing my concerns to Sammy. Tell me, do you know how many times my husband has reached over to chuck me under the chin and say, ‘Now don’t you worry your pretty little head over that, darlin’?’”

The question had never occurred to the Head Skippy, but now that she’d posed it, he was intrigued. He leaned over and replied, “No, I don’t know. How many?”

Clarissa pretended to count. “Oh, I’d say, something roughly in the neighborhood of… never. Sammy could have married a girl like that, and I could have married a man like that. But we didn’t. We both married smart people. What I’m saying here is – I’m not dumb. You can say that you don’t know what I’m talking about, but I won’t believe a word of it.”

The Head Skippy nodded. “I didn’t think it would work. All right, how did you find out?”

“Remember when we were touring the High Energy Facility – was it only yesterday? I wandered into a restricted area where the Skippys were running some radiation tests on a peculiar green crystal. I didn’t think too much about it at the time, but with this thing involving Superman, I remembered reading something about a green crystal called Kryptonite. What little I’d read indicates that its radiation could be lethal to Superman. I put two and two together and tried looking up ‘Kryptonite’ on the Skippy Intranet. That’s when things got interesting. Any information on Kryptonite is restricted, and I don’t have the proper clearance to read it.

“Now, why would the Skippys restrict all information on Kryptonite when you can find a lot about it on the World Wide Web? Granted, most of that is junk, but what’s so important about this stuff that the Skippys clamp down internally on any information? So I put two more and two more together and made a guess.”

“It was a good guess, Clarissa. I’ll see about getting you proper clearance soon. I’m sure Sammy won’t mind.”

“Thank you, but that’s not the point. Why are the Skippys running tests on a piece of Kryptonite?”

The Head Skippy said nothing for a moment. He bent down and idly sorted through some new emails. this was give him time to think. Clarissa waited patiently.

Finally, the Head Skippy looked up and asked, “Well, part of the reason we’re running experiments on Kryptonite is to understand it better and perhaps help Superman develop some sort of resistance to it. But that’s not the main reason, not by a long shot. The Skippys have become custodians of this crystal.

“Do you realize just how powerful Superman is?”

Clarissa thought back to a time when she was walking along South Main in Wichita. “I think I do. He’s very powerful indeed.”

“Yes, he is. Some people think he’s the most powerful being on Earth. I’m not so sure of that. But he is very powerful. I don’t think we’re fully aware of how powerful, and I’m willing to bet that most of the time, he forgets it himself. But he’s… Superman.

“You know the old saying about power, don’t you?”

“Which old saying – the one about great responsibility or the one about corrupting absolutely?”

“I’m thinking of the second one, but they’re both relevant. Think for a moment about power. Superman has an excellent sense of right and wrong – he obviously has to. But the temptation for misusing his power must be there. He’s been able to resist that temptation so far, but in the future – who knows?”

“I can see your point. But Superman is a good man. He wouldn’t think of using his powers for selfish ends.” Jews love a good argument – if not with God, then with each other. Clarissa leaned back and looked at the Head Skippy thoughtfully. “But your argument is still valid, isn’t it?”

“Sammy certainly didn’t marry a stupid girl. You’re right. Superman wouldn’t use his powers for evil intentions. He’s gone out of his way to save lives and protect people from harm. Humans are a rough, selfish, silly, self-destructive species. What if Superman gets it into his head that they need a lot of protection – from themselves? You’re a mother. How tempting is it to overprotect Levi?”

“It is very tempting.”

“Right. I’m a dad and I know what it’s like. All through human history, there have been repressive dictatorships, and many have been started by people who thought that their subjects couldn’t protect themselves properly. Now along comes a being as powerful as Superman. What if he suddenly gets overprotective?”

“I think that I see where this is going. You mentioned old sayings. There’s another one about using good intentions as paving material.”

“Those old sayings have some bite to them. Now, what do humans do – what do we do – when or if Superman decides to set himself up as a supreme ruler? With the best intentions, of course. We all love him, but we have to face the fact that someday, under some not impossible circumstances, someone may have to take him out – for our own good.”

“And the best way to do it is with Kryptonite. It may even be the only way. What you say makes sense. And there are probably no better people on Earth that you can trust this stuff with than the Skippys.”

The Head Skippy shrugged. “Well… there are others. I’ve heard that Batman has a chunk in a secure vault in his Batcave – I think that he paid over a million dollars to get it. But there aren’t many others that I can think of.”

Clarissa thought for a moment. Then she said, “Over a million dollars, you say? Now I’m curious. How did the Skippys get their Kryptonite?”

“Superman gave it to us. He wanted us to have it for just the reasons that I’ve given.”

Clarissa smiled and shook her head. “That is so… noble. That’s why you had to have it, and that’s why you’ll probably never use it.”

“Probably.”

“Right. Probably. Thank you, Skippy, for being honest with me. It means so much.”

“You’re welcome. Honesty is what you deserve.”

Clarissa stood up. The Head Skippy stood up as well. Clarissa said, “I’m going up at the State Capitol in Topeka tomorrow on synagogue business and I have to get ready. Second-in-Command Skippy will be driving me up there in the Skippymobile®.”

“I know – she cleared it with me earlier. I hope your business goes well. Thanks for stopping by.” The head Skippy escorted Clarissa to the office door.

##################

It was a lovely day to drive. The sky above was a deep blue and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. When they had reason to travel away from the Compound, the Skippys tended to avoid the Interstate highway that cut through eastern Kansas. Mustela sapiens was great at defensive driving – essential with the small vehicles that they used – but with something as large and as fast and as busy as the Interstate, discretion was wise. So they traveled on the smaller routes. And a day like today was ideal for tooling along the byways of Kansas.

Clarissa’s business in Topeka had gone well, and she and Second-in-Command Skippy were headed home. Levi was strapped into his special seat with some toys. They were heading back to Wichita now, driving leisurely along State Highway 57 south of Council Grove. The windows were down and Clarissa was enjoying the view of the rolling Flint Hills. There were few human cars on the road, and Second-in-Command Skippy was able to relax enough to enjoy the view as well.

It was the time of year for controlled burning of the grasslands, and with the recent drought, the ranchers had to be careful with the fires they set. Up ahead, just off to the left of Highway 57, Skippy could see smoke rising from the plains. Some human was burning off some grass. As she watched, the smoke seemed to be getting heavier.

The Skippymobile® phone rang, and Second-in-Command Skippy picked it up. “Hello – oh, hi, boss! What’s up?”

The Head Skippy replied, “Something serious. There’s a controlled burn out in the Flint Hills that’s, well, gotten out of control. It’s just north of the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve.”

“I think we see it, boss. We’re on 57 a ways north of Strong City.”

“That’s it. Some humans are fighting it now, and we’ve sent some Skippys to help, but the grass is really dry and they’re having a rough time of it. I’m hearing reports that some folks may be trapped.”

Second-in-Command Skippy looked over at Clarissa, and at Levi in his carrier. The little Albino kit didn’t understand what was going on, but he could tell something was wrong and whimpered. Clarissa simply looked at Skippy and nodded.

“Okay, boss, we’re on our way. We’ll see what we can do.” Second-in-Command Skippy hung up the phone and pressed down on the gas.

As the Skippymobile® got closer, they could see the thick black smoke rolling across the plains; giant flames became visible, hungrily eating at the dry grass. A group of sweaty, grimy humans and ferrets could now be seen, too, but whatever they’d been doing, they weren’t doing it now. They were standing there, looking up at a red-blue blur flying through the fire and smoke.

Second-in-Command Skippy and Clarissa, holding Levi in her arms, got out of the van and listened to the firefighters’ chatter.

Someone said, “It’s – a bird?”

Someone else said, “No, it’s a plane!”

Clarissa smiled. She knew who it was.

The red-blue blur swooped around, blowing out fires with the speed of his passage, sucking smoke and flames up with the vacuum he created. Whenever he sped overhead, humans and ferrets hollered and whooped for joy.

Soon three humans and two ferrets came stumbling out of the field. They were coughing and they were black with soot, but they were alive.

In a few minutes the worst of the fires had been put out, leaving behind blackened ground and smoldering ashes.

The human in the blue bodysuit descended slowly from the sky, amid the cheers and applause of the firefighters. There was a light breeze, and the man’s red cape waved briskly behind him.

The Man of Steel stopped in midair and smiled and waved back at the humans and ferrets. But there was still much to be done. Someone had to look after the five that had been trapped, and the rest of the firefighters had to go back to work. People were already turning away when Superman alit beside the Skippymobile®.

Superman said, “Skippy, good to see you! You’re Clarissa, aren’t you? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

He knew differently, of course, and so did Clarissa. But there were secrets that had to be kept, so she said, “No, we’ve not. It is very good to finally meet you.”

Levi’s ruby-red eyes were wide with wonder as he stared up at the Man of Steel. Superman smiled at the kit and said, “And this must be Levi!” He knelt down to get closer. “Hi, Levi!”

The little kit came all over shy and hid his face in his mother’s arms.

Clarissa gently laughed and said, “It’s all right, little one. This man won’t hurt you. He’s very kind to ferrets. What do you say to him?”

A little red eye peeked out to look at the man in blue. A little voice could barely be heard. “Hi.”

Clarissa looked up at the human. He seemed like a giant – even larger than the average human, it seemed. But his smile was gentle and so kind. She felt almost as shy as Levi.

Clarissa managed to keep her voice under control. She said, “I remember the first time I saw you. It was over two years ago – there was a sniper in downtown Wichita.”

Superman nodded. “I remember him – in the Epic Center building. I’m glad I was nearby and got to him in time before he hurt anyone.”

“So am I. I was there, walking down the street with my baby.” She bent her head down and gently stroked Levi’s fur. “We were caught out in the open. He’d – he’d already fired at me. At us.” Clarissa looked up at the Man of Steel. She could feel tears in the corners of her eyes. “You saved my baby’s life that day. You saved mine.” She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’ve – never had the chance to thank you. Until now. I am so grateful to you for what you did.”

Superman replied, “You’re welcome. It’s what I do. And I’m glad to do it.”

Second-in-Command Skippy had been talking with one of the Skippy firefighters. She approached Clarissa and cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but they just asked me to help coordinate things around here. I think I ought to stay for awhile. Clarissa, it may be some time before you get home.”

Superman said, “Well, maybe I can give you a ride. How about that, Levi? You want to fly home?”

It took a few moments for the little kit to understand what the human was saying. Then his red eye got wide and he looked up at Clarissa. He whispered, “Mamma?”

Clarissa looked up at Superman. She could say nothing, but there was no question what her answer was.

The two ferrets looked out from the cozy nest of the red cape, held snugly in the Man of Steel’s strong, gentle arms. They watched the Kansas plain speed by below, and they felt the breeze of their passage against the fur of their faces.

Little Levi squealed with glee and went “Whooooosh!” Clarissa couldn’t help laughing from time to time, from sheer joy.

It was a lovely day to drive, but it was an even lovelier day to fly.

THE END

The characters Murphy, Sammy, Max, Clarissa, Levi, Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, The Skippy Corporation, etc., are copyright 2009 by Paul E. Jamison. All characters are fictional; any resemblance between these characters and real people, living or dead, is unintentional.

Superman, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, The Flash, Hawkwoman, The Blue Beetle, The Justice League, S.T.A.R. Labs, etc., are copyright DC Comics. So far they haven’t found me out.


Walkferret®, SkipBoard®, SkipTrace®, SkippyOS®, SkipNet®, SkippySat®, Skippymobile® and SkippyIM® are registered trademarks of the Skippy Corporation and are used with permission. (I still wouldn’t press my luck.)

Go to the “La Mustel” restaurant website to find the online menu, operating hours, and the latest specials.

Order Skippy pizzas online! Extra toppings available on request.