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APR 15 |
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“Long Ago and Far Away”
In The 41st Century...
Certainly there were few lovelier planet than Helicon to be found anywhere in the thousands of galaxies that comprised the Galactic Commonwealth. It was a safe bet that it could be just about the furthermost world as well. It took the fabled Vona-Tekautz star cruisers nearly eight days to arrive there from New Krypton. Those star cruisers had long been revered as the fastest ever built by the Kahre. That it took one of them so long to reach Helicon was a testament to just how far away it was from the Galactic Core. The slim, fair-haired youth that disembarked from his personal cruiser looked around him at Helicon's only starport. At the request of Helicon's leading citizen, only one starport had been constructed in order to maintain the beauty of the planet's landscape. But considering that Helicon was so far off the main starlanes, one starport was more than enough to service the ships that came there. On a good day, Helicon Starport hosted perhaps fifty to seventy vessels.
Massive trees thousands of feet high that glowed with outrageously lush colors waved in the breezes, which smelled like the memories of first love, a direct contrast to the highly advanced machinery of the starport and the variety of interstellar crafts berthed there. Even though Helicon was so far off the normal commercial star lanes, it remained a popular world for two reasons: the climate and the leading citizen of the planet.
The youth immediately reported to customs, located in an almond-colored spire a thousand stories high, since it doubled as the planet's administrative center. He was treated with deference and respect. He merely held up his hand, palm outward, and whoever saw what was there bowed and gave him his way.
The youth looked up and observed hundreds of humanoid forms filling the golden sky by means of directional levitation or outright flying. The youth smiled and with an ease born of years of practice, pushed off from the ground and joined them in flight.
Helicon was not a world of unchecked technology. In fact, outside of the starport, there were very little outward signs of technology. Houses were modest structures of artificial materials that simulated natural woods and stone and such. Very few building were over five stories tall, save for some scattered administrative buildings located north of the starport.
The youth turned toward the south, however. The man he sought lived in the warm, rich green lands of the southern hemisphere, where he lived quietly with his descendants, his own children either having died or gone on to other planets where they carried on his work and made names for themselves.
The youth flew over mountains of purple and gold, over rivers wide and grassy plains where great horned beasts roamed. They paused and regarded the flying youth with intelligent eyes gleaming like jewels in the golden sunlight. He flew over forests teeming with life and oceans that rolled and crashed with azure waves on obsidian shores.
Finally, he landed next to a Braalian raised ranch style house two stories high. Some children were busy at play, laughing and running and flying out in front. The youth watched them as a pudgy, dark-haired man ran from the house to approach the youth.
“Greetings. I am Har-Ve. I haven’t been told to officially greet you but I thought I should. It’s best you know right up front that your visit isn’t particularly welcome. I myself was half hoping you wouldn't come,” Har-Ve’s voice was wistful. Regret and apprehension were most apparent in his jade green eyes. “He's looking forward to your visit, but many here don’t.”
“I haven't come to ask him for anything but information.” The youth looked over the shoulder of his one-man reception committee. Small delegations of official looking men were leaving the house. He could make out a couple of Durlans, even a Duwayi. “Pardon me for my inquisitiveness but may I ask who they are?” He gestured at the group.
Har-Ve looked over his left shoulder. “Just another group who ask for his help or advice. This is every day. At least a hundred representatives from as many worlds come to him for aid. And he always refuses.”
A man and a woman landed next to the youth. It was obvious they were related. Both had dark, straight hair and clear bright blue eyes. Both wore jumpsuits of red trimmed in blue and the man's chest boasted a single disc of gold on his broad, muscular chest. “You must be Gideon Kent,” the man said, stepping forward to shake hands. “I'm Tor Gandon. This is my sister Rael. I must say, when we got your communication, I was surprised and shocked. The Kent name is one that hasn't been heard in quite a long time.”
Gideon Kent smiled. “I adopted the name Gideon Kent, but I still use my Kryptonian one for official business. As I told you, I'm an historian and quite naturally, being a member of the Superman Dynasty, I've always been fascinated by Kal-El and his amazing alter ego of Clark Kent. Just call it my own little tribute.”
Rael Gandon didn't seem very pleased to see Gideon as she put herself into the conversation. “I want to make it very clear that I won't see my grandfather upset, Kent or whatever you call yourself. He's spent the last several centuries here in peace and solitude.”
Gideon smiled reassuringly. “The last thing I want to do is upset your...grandfather, you call him? Surely, you–”
Tor laughed. “Actually he's our grandfather so many times removed than we'd be here for Arioch only knows how long reciting ‘great’. But simply calling him 'grandfather' suits us all just fine.”
The pudgy man looked nervous as he said. “Do you want to go in and see him, now?”
Gideon Kent nodded. “I've come a long way to meet Lar Gand.”
The room Gideon Kent was escorted into appeared to be a combination study/laboratory with a high domed glass ceiling that allowed plenty of natural light to flood in. Floating slabs of some anti-gravity metal supported real books and scientific equipment. Curving shelves on the walls accommodated more books from a thousand worlds. Books on art, law, science, logistics, philosophy and a dozen other subjects. Gideon could only look upon them in total amazement. He’d seen books, certainly, but never so many all in one spot. Books were not unheard of and he owned ten himself…but this was the 41st Century, after all. By means of a Bacterial Network Processor injected at birth, one could have access to any one of millions of Interface Shrines that were part of the galaxy wide Albion Network and get any information needed. At any time, anywhere, instantly. But actual books that one had to sit down and read…well, that was a treat reserved for the wealthy and the scholarly.
A tall man stood before the window, looking out at the playing children garbed in a simple robe of black and red. Hair of the purest white fell to his shoulders and when he turned to greet his visitor, Gideon could see the lines of age in his face and the sunken, deep-set eyes. As far as anybody knew this man was probably the oldest humanoid being still living. Born in the 20th Century on the far distant planet of Daxam, his legend stretched through to the 30th Century and his fabled adventures with the Legion Of Super-Heroes and further beyond that as he had gone on to even greater deeds.
“I'm Lar Gand. Welcome to my home.”
“I wasn't sure you'd see me, sir.”
“It's been a long time since this house was privileged to receive a member of the House of El. Before we speak, may I...”
Gideon extended his hand and showed his palm. Slowly, a symbol in gold and black appeared in his palm, glowing softly. The legendary S symbol that all members of the Superman Dynasty bore in one form or another on their bodies, encoded into their very DNA.
Lar Gand bowed his head for long minutes before speaking. “It was worth your coming here just for me to see that once again. Please, sit down and let's have refreshments and you can tell me just why you've come so far.” Lar turned his head and called, “Har-Ve!”
The pudgy man who had first greeted Gideon came bustling into the chamber. “I am here, Glorious One! What is your bidding?” He bowed so low that Gideon feared the man would overbalance and go rolling across the marble floor.
Lar sighed wearily. “Har-Ve, you don't have to do that to impress the visitors I get. Please, just bring us some Denebian wine and something to snack on. Maybe some of those Illorian pastries your wife bakes so excellently.”
“At once, O Light of the Cosmos!” Har-Ve backed out of the room, still bowed low until he reached the doorway. Once there, he blinked out of sight at a speed that would have been regarded as supernatural by anyone who did not possess the vision of a Kryptonian descendant.
Gideon’s said in surprise; “A Daxamite?”
Lar nodded. “I saved one of his ancestors back in the 36th or 37th Century, quite frankly I forget which. So his family has come here to serve me ever since. It embarrasses me to no end, but I can't get them to leave.”
Gideon chuckled. “O Light of the Cosmos?”
“Har-Ve thinks he has to put on a show to impress my guests. I apologize. Now, tell me news of the galaxies. We're on the back end of the Commonwealth and news is slow to reach us.”
Lar Gand refilled his guest's cup. “I had no idea that such advances had taken place. I've been here for hundreds of years, catching up on my own research.”
“I wouldn't think you were so interested in science.”
“Very few did. Back in the 20th Century where I was born, my father was one of Daxam's most accomplished scientists and I was reared almost from birth to take his place one day. Of course, The Great Invasion changed all that when Daxamites learned that under a yellow sun we gain tremendous powers and abilities.”
“Not to mention eternal youth, it would seem.”
“Hardly.” Lar touched his pure white hair. “The results of tests I've done on myself conclude that the older I get, the slower I age. It has its benefits and its drawbacks.”
Gideon sipped some more wine and looked around the huge chamber. “You spend a great deal of time here, I imagine.”
“I finally have the time to engage in pure scientific research. But you didn't come here to talk about me, did you?”
“Perhaps I have. There have been several attacks on New Krypton, attacks centered on laboratories or research centers working on time travel. The Linear Men themselves are concerned about this, but to date, our security forces, even with their help, haven't been able to capture the attackers.”
“If you've come to ask me to help capture them–”
“No...I would not dream of asking you to end your well-earned retirement, but my research into these attackers turned up something very interesting. You fought the same attackers threatening us back in the 30th Century alongside of Brainiac 5, Ultra Boy, Night Girl and Invisible Kid. The records of that time identified your enemy as called Amok.”
Lar Gand's deep blue eyes opened wide. “Now there's a name I haven't heard in quite a long time. Amok. It's an artificial life form, you know, created in nutrient tanks and then augmented with bionic implants that collect and store cosmic energy. It's a devastating living weapon, one that should have never come into being. And you say that there is more than one?”
“Actually, there have been five of them that have been confirmed as separate entities. They've been engaged in battle by several of my relatives and the New Krypton Security Forces. Each time, not only have they escaped, but they have inflicted severe damage and injury on those engaging them in combat.”
“What is exactly that they are trying to take from these research centers?”
“They've downloaded all manner of files and data on the time travel methods of a dozen different worlds. The information they've taken is quite common and could be found just about anywhere else on any number of worlds.”
“Which means that they're not just looking for data on time travel after all. They're looking for data about Kryptonians relating to time travel…and I have an idea who.”
“Kal-El?”
Lar Gand nodded soberly. “I think so. Amazing. After all this time, I'd almost forgotten about it all.”
“Could you tell me about what happened when you fought Amok back in the 30th Century with your teammates?”
“Oh, that wasn't the only time I fought it. I also had some run-ins with Amok back in the 20th Century as well.”
“Anything you can tell me would be of immense help.”
“Very well. I'll start back in the 30th Century. You see, for a long time I had another name which was used so much, my birth name sounded strange and alien to me...”
In The 30th Century…
“MON-EL!”
Ears that could hear a heartbeat a world away heard the scream. Mon-El slowly placed the broken, bleeding body he held in his arms down next to an already overworked doctor and he flew away, youthful face set in a grim mask of determination.
It took him only eight seconds to fly six miles to Chronopolis, a research city located on the remote world of Losweg VI. The city, once a marvelous example of what a research city should be was now in danger of being turned to rubble.
Mon-El landed next to Brainiac 5. The green-skinned youth turned and looked at his teammate reproachfully. “Where have you been, Mon? Jo's taking a beating out there.”
“Trying to save some lives, if that's okay with you, Brainy. Lydda's with some doctors outside of the city where they've set up an emergency triage. I've been flying the wounded out there.” They stood on the roof of a building that up until the Amok's attack had been a dormitory for the technicians living and working in Chronopolis. Brianiac 5 watched Ultra Boy's fight with his usual cold, calculating gaze.
“But Jo's...”
Mon-El didn't answer, but again flew away, skimming over shattered buildings and smoking craters. Some six miles ahead, Ultra Boy was being pounded into the ground by a creature eight feet tall. Humpbacked with a misshapen, horse-like head, its three-fingered hands lifted and fell like two great war hammers, smashing the green and red form of Ultra Boy deeper and deeper into the polycaribidum pavement. The creature was covered in a grayish-red chitinous skin that served as armor. Vents opened up in the back to expel noxious gases. Its legs were short and squat but muscular and the ground cracked and sagged under every step it took.
Mon-El flew in, seized up Ultra Boy in his arms and flew back to where Brainiac 5 stood. Ultra Boy was unconscious and breathing shallowly. While he was almost as powerful as Mon-El, his one major weakness was that he could only use one of his super-powers at a time. While Mon-El had been flying the wounded to safety, Ultra Boy had switched to invulnerability and decoyed Amok to buy time.
Mon-El checked his friend with his X-Ray vision. “He'll be fine. He's suffering from exhaustion more than anything else. Where's Lyle?”
“Trying to sneak closer to that thing in order to analyze it better. We need more information about that creature, Mon.”
“Tell Lyle to pull back and I'll engage it. I didn't have much effect on it before, but I was holding back. Now that the area's clear, I can–”
Amok lifted both hands and round orifices opened in its palms and streams of pure cosmic energy burst forth, ripping through the buildings and domes of the research city. Amok had already laid waste to twelve square miles in the last four hours and showed no signs of slowing down.
Mon-El cracked his knuckles and said to Brainiac 5 in a voice that left no room for argument, “Tell Invisible Kid he's got one minute to get clear, then I'm coming in with everything I've got.”
In The 41st Century…
“Incredible…' Gideon Kent murmured. “So then, this Amok was already attacking a known time travel research outpost when you and your Legion comrades engaged it?”
Lar Gand took another sip from his goblet of Denebian wine. While relating his tale, Gideon had noticed that he had been imbibing more and more of the potent drink. It hadn't escaped Gideon's notice that Lar had become quite emotionally involved in his tale of the events of the 30th Century. It was obvious from the faraway look in his eyes that he wasn’t just retelling events from long ago. He was reliving them in his mind and in his spirit.
“Yes. We had received word from Rond Vidar, who was part of the team engaged in research there. Hardly surprising, in fact. Rond was...is...perhaps the finest mind ever to have existed as far as time travel is concerned. He invented the Time Cube and, to this day, many of his applications are still not understood by the finest scientific minds.”
“There have been stories that Rond was of Gallifreyan origin.”
Lar laughed softly. “I spent fifty years searching for Gallifrey and never found it. I wish I had. Maybe things might have turned out differently. But you didn't come to hear that…you want to know what happened when we fought Amok and what happened then…”
Gideon Kent nodded eagerly. “Indeed. I'm honored that you would tell me a story of what happened when you when a member of the fabled Legion.”
Lar Gand poured himself more wine and took up another Illorian pastry and munched it thoughtfully. “Lyle Norg had retreated as I asked him to. Jo was pretty much out of action and the only other member with the power to help me take on Amok was Wildfire and he was three thousand light years away…but in those days, I was very sure of my power…”
In The 30th Century…
Mon-El impacted into Amok's midsection with a force that threw the creature backwards at least a good eight miles. Spinning like a berserk top, it whirled through the air, smashing through the remains of the Ominversal Directional Nexus Center, throwing smashed machinery and masonry everywhere. Hitting the ground, it dug a trench thousands of feet long before at last stopping.
Amok climbed out of the smoking crater it had dug, it's misshapen, horse-like head opening in a roar of defiance.
Mon-El hung in the air a thousand feet above the creature, probing it with his hyper-vision powers. He could see cosmic induction implants, Thanagarian power base induction bio-grids, Neressian transneural download nanoworks. Somebody had artificially bio-engineered this creature to do nothing to destroy.
Mon-El placed a hand to one of the two circular golden discs on his chest that not only served to hold his sky blue cape to his shoulders, but also acted as communication and diagnostic devices. “Brainy.”
“I'm here, Mon.”
“Evacuate the planet. I've invoking Legion Protocol Omega.”
There was silence for three second before Brainiac 5 answered. “Lar…that's serious…I'm sure that once Wildfire and the others arrive–”
“We don't have time for that. This thing is a living battery of cosmic energy. There's a good chance it could kill me and that means it can kill the rest of you for sure.”
Brainaic 5 had enough respect for Mon-El's scientific knowledge not to argue with him. “Mon, if you take it on…I would not be pleased if I knew could stay and help prevent your death at the hands of this thing and I left...”
Mon-El smiled as he said, “Brainy, remember what I told you about a year ago?”
Mon-El knew quite well that Brainaic 5 never forget any conversation he had with anybody, and especially not that one that had taken place during a battle against Mordru when Mon-El had plunged into one-on-on combat against the insane sorcerer.
“You told me ‘The Bullet That Will Kill Me Has Not Yet Been Cast’…it's a quote attributed to the Earth soldier Napoleon, I believe.”
“That's right. And it applies here. Get everybody out, Brainy. Leave Amok to me.”
Mon-El dropped like a meteor and crashed into Amok with a force that shook the ground for six square miles. The dust and dirt raised by the impact was thrown into the atmosphere for miles where it would spread like a blanket throughout. Mon-El had known this. A battle of this magnitude would not be conducive for normal human life, which was why he had ordered Brainiac 5 to evacuate. A battle between Mon-El and Amok could go on for hours until their energy reserves were exhausted and, while that was going on, the planet could easily be laid waste. And he didn't really know if he was going to survive it. But if he didn't, Amok wouldn't either.
Mon-El lifted Amok up, drew back his right fist and delivered a blow at hypersonic speed. Amok flew up into the atmosphere in a careering arc that would land it somewhere in the planet's northern arctic region.
Mon-El took a minute to catch his breath. Superhuman endurance only counted when put against the relative power of your opponent. And Amok was powerful. Mon-El prepared himself to fly after his foe when a purple-gloved hand landed on his caped shoulder.
Mon-El turned and looked, knocked the hand off and stepped into a fighting stance. Long ago, Karate Kid had taught him the martial arts of a dozen worlds, partly because Mon-El loved learning new things and partly because he had anticipated his being on a world on in a situation where his superpowers wouldn't work. Either way, against this foe, he wanted all the skills he could muster.
Seven feet tall, dressed in a ragged purple robe with an hourglass hanging around his neck that glowed with the Sands of Time, the Time Trapper floated several feet above the rubble strewn ground. “Hello, old friend. Is that any way to greet family?”
“I don't have time for your games! Whatever you want–”
“Mon! Wait!” Another figure flew down from the sky, dressed in a solid green jumpsuit with the insignia of a long forgotten corps of heroes. But this young man was their heritage. And Mon-El felt an affinity with him. Like this young man, they had roots in the long-ago 20th Century.
Rond Vidar was the 30th Century custodian of the power of the Green Lantern Corps. Once they had been the warriors and protectors of justice and Mon-El had fought beside two of the greatest champions of the Green Lantern.
Alan Scott and Hal Jordan.
Mon-El had known them both. Honorable men of power and courage. And even though the Green Lanterns had been outlawed in the 30th Century, Mon-El still honored their heritage. In a way, anyone who held the name of Green Lantern was part of his family. They all had roots in the 20th Century Mon-El had been born in.
“Rond, I don't know what you're doing with the Time Trapper, but I don't have the time for it now.”
“Mon! That's just it! TIME is what we're here for! PLEASE! You've got to listen to the Time Trapper!”
The Time Trapper spoke in a voice filled with great good humor. “He's right, Mon-El…if you don't accept my help, the very fabric of this reality you know will be affected. In fact, I'm going to tell you this…if you DON'T accept my help, many things you know will be affected.”
Mon-El's hands tightened into fists. “I do not have time for these games.”
Rond Vidar, his face lit by the glow of the Green Lantern ring on his right hand said urgently, “Mon, Amok is only a tool of a scientist from the 84th Century who wants to destroy Kal-El!”
Mon-El frowned. “The Superman of the 20th Century? The founder of the Superman Dynasty?”
The Time Trapper chuckled. “Exactamundo, mi amigo! And since YOU have such experience with the vagrancies of time and again, you will be our agent is this matter…it's not like you and I haven't been through this before.”
Mon-El did not speak. His eyes glowed with the fire of a hundred suns and beams of pure expended solar energy burst forth to engulf the Time Trapper. And when it was finished, the Time Trapper floated in mid-air, unharmed.
“Don't you get tired of doing that?”
Mon-El turned in mid-air and flew away at hypersonic speed. One thing he didn't need in his life right now was the Time Trapper with his cryptic and maddening talk about the common destiny they shared and-
Mon-El was shocked as he looked to his left and saw the Time Trapper at his elbow.
“Look, Mon, can we slow down and wait for Rond? We're going to need him for this. And it's important.”
Mon-El landed, along with the Time Trapper. Rond Vidar caught up to them a few minutes later. The power of a Green Lantern was fast as thought, but not as fast as the natural power of a Daxamite.
“Okay,” Mon-El threw back his long sky-blue cape over his broad shoulders. “I'm only going to hear this because of Rond and his knowledge of time travel.” Mon-El watched Amok with his telescopic vision while he listened.
“Mon, the very fabric of reality is in danger…” Rond Vidar insisted.
“It always is,” Mon-El said absently. “You have to give me better proof than that.”
The Time Trapper said in his hollow voice, “There is an enemy who is trying to erase Krypton from existence. If he does so, Daxam will also cease to exist.”
The Time Trapper had finally caught Mon-El's attention.
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To Be Continued...
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