Story 7: Be Careful What You Wish For 1

Page 1: The Arrival of Robot Boy!

Aaaaand we are on to the next issue and halfway through the Action Comics backup stories! Christian will be joining us as of this story. To simplify things, Robot Boy will have applied in the last round but had a contract obligation helping a UP research vessel track and tag Charekesh’s native giant sea turtles. Hence, he wasn’t around in the last two stories but he’s back now.

We open with a flashback to the application process, where the Legionnaires have had a long day grading super hero hopefuls like Gyroscope Lad, Botany Girl, Lucy Skydiamond, Ant Princess (“you control ants?” “Not ants, ant.” “So, one at a time?” “No, just this one... wave hi, Anty! Oh, he’s gone to sleep.”) Amidst these earnest young hopefuls comes a boy made of metal...

[BR: Josh, Myles, both of Future Boy and Bubble Boy would have heard of this entity’s story in the press, though I’ll let Christian tell the tale.]

Adom stands in line waiting patiently for his chance to interview, quietly observing the other applicants, noting the diversity in their appearance and abilities. He wonders what hand, if any, his ancient kinfolk played in fostering that diversity.

He has a momentary impulse to let Proty off leash for some quick exercise - Proty eagerly expressing his excitement at the notion through their mental link - but suppresses the urge, not knowing the League's policy on pets.

When his turn comes and he is ushered inside, he takes a moment to survey the League's new headquarters. It is as yet rather spare in its amenities, something he approves of heartily. Utilitarianism is a hallmark characteristic of the metal-kin.

He pauses a moment to allow the League members who will be interviewing him a chance to assess his appearance. He is humanoid in shape, a little taller than the average human male. His skin consists of a seamless sheathe of silver-grey flexi-metal and his anatomical features are amorphously smooth, with no suggestion of conventional humanoid musculature. He is hairless and mostly androgynous, only a slightly wider shoulder to hip ratio suggesting a masculine figure. His head is smooth and helmet-like. He might be mistaken for a human in a metallic encounter suit, except for the clear T-shape visor plate in the center of his head, behind which can be seen not a human face but naked circuits, flashing panel lights, and whirling gears.

He raises his right arm, opening his hand (which consists of a thumb and mitten-like claw) in a gesture of peace. His voice is quite human when he speaks, but with a slight mechanical distortion, not unlike a slightly garbled radio broadcast.

"Excitement. I send greetings to family-unit designate Legion of Super Heroes. I am designate Adom Threy. I come to serve. I am the Robot Boy."

[CI: Meant to add that in terms of his appearance, I wanted something very much how a robot might have been imagined in the 1950s. I had initially thought to go full "Robbie the Robot" or Cliff Steele/RobotMan, but ultimately took my cue from Gort, of "The Day the Earth Stood Still." So, basically, picture Gort, but with a clear face plate behind which you can see Robbie the Robot style mechanisms.]

[BR: Well that's not what I expected, but wicked cool! I now wonder how Dolar is going to react to someone who has no expressions or visible physical cues....]

[BR: OK everyone, start with the questions!]

A small figure - a Slan girl - leans forward with some interest. She asks, "What can you do that the average United Planets citizen cannot?"

"Amusement. I am still learning about the peoples of the UP. I am uncertain what qualifies as average. Pride. I am metal-kin. You are soft-kin. I am more durable. I am stronger."

"More durable and stronger is good," Patin says, done up in her disco mini dress of rainbow polka dots, but with a bit of expensive jewelry to show that she's at least slightly serious. She yawns (perhaps weaerd after a day of interviewing hopeful heroes who are mostly more the former than the latter. "At least as long as you can move faster than a few feet a minute--don't ask. So you're Robot Boy, because you're a Robot -and- a Boy. So, I'm not going to ask how you work, where, who, or what you come from, or whether I can call you Robo for short. Someone else can ask you those if they want, but I'm having a good day.

"So... why do you want to help? Who do you serve?"

"Sincerity. I help because it is my purpose. One must have purpose. Sadness. I served my soft-family. They are no more. Hope. I seek a new family-unit."

A moment later, Adom adds, "Consternation. I am not a robot. Robots are mindless automatons. I reason. I emote. I had a family. Patience. I am not a boy either. Designation Robot Boy was suggested as a frame of reference for the people. I can be Robot Girl if you prefer."

"What happened to your family?" Gorvo asks. "They were soft? Not like you?"

Adom bows his head momentarily before responding. "Reverence. I had both soft-kin and hard-kin. The soft-kin were the Creators. They were the Mother-Fathers. They sent me to prepare this world for their arrival. Bitterness. I failed in that task and was lost for many aeons. Those who found me tell there is no trace of my civilization having ever existed. My people are no more. Determination. I must honor their memory by serving the soft-people of this world as I once served my kin."

Dolar’s eyebrows draw down in an expression of utter confusion. “/How old are you/?"

"Embarrassment. I apologize that I cannot answer your question with precision. My internal chronometer was damaged during the incident that interrupted my mission. Thirteen solar cycles of my homeworld passed between the time I came into existence and my arrival on this planet. Two cycles of this planet passed before the event that immobilized me in the planetary crust. After that I estimate one million seventy-six thousand eight-hundred fifty-two cycles passed before I was discovered and disinterred. The margin of error on my estimation is plus or minus one-hundred thousand cycles. I again apologize for the vagueness of my answer." The rate of the lights flashing behind Adom's faceplate momentarily accelerates. "Unease. Does this disqualify my candidacy?"

"Not by my books," Diskette says, interest having pulled her out of her chair and mock enuii so she's now sprawled from the chair to the lectern she's using as a desk, elbows keeping her barely upright. "I mean, we don't have an exact age requirement, just a statement of purpose that implies that we're not adults, but...in any case, by my count, you've lived through 13 years, so you're thirteen plus the time since you were found. Time spent trapped in the planetary crust doesn't count.

"And also--you can survive being trapped in magma for millions of years? How tough -are- you?"

"Fifteen," says Ode, correcting Diskette.

[BR: good thing that correction was before the leadership election or Diskette might have lost her cool there... carry on.] [JK: She's trying to be better, truly she is, now...]

"Oh, right; two cycles of solitary wandering first. So 15-ish."

"Relief. My adaptive repair mechanisms are sufficient to endure environmental stresses that would destroy most soft-skin organisms. They were in constant operation. The greater threat was tedium."

Dolar looks even more perplexed. “You were awake the whole time? And it got boring?"

"Amusement. There were periods of non-awareness during power recycling and self-repair modes. Consciousness was present for the greater duration. I enjoyed much self-reflection. Proty assisted in easing my aloneness."

"Proty?" asks Ode.

"Fondness. Proty is companion designate pet. Perplexion. Accuracy of designation pet is uncertain. It is challenging to explain."

Adom turns around. Attached to his upper back is a silver disc roughly the diameter of a salad plate. A low thrum, not unlike the musical emanations of a theremin, fills the air. The disc detaches from his back, hovering in midair. It tilts on its axis, so that its edge faces towards the Legionnaires. It's several centimeters thick and resembles a classic "flying saucer." There's a clear rectangular window along one side, behind which can be seen the same kind of circuitry that resides behind Adom's faceplate, as well as an eye-like roving camera lens. It deploys a short antenna from the center of its roof.

Adom turns back around to face the Legionnaires again. "Pride. Proty is an extension of me. It is my far-eyes. It is my roving-self. It thinks and it feels and can act independently but lacks sophisticated reasoning capacity. Similar to your companion animals. Hence designation pet." The saucer drops in altitude, gently rubbing its edge against the side of Adom's leg at a height corresponding to a human thigh. Adom rests his right hand atop the saucer and softly scratches. The antenna begins to wag rapidly from side to side. "Affection. It is also a good boy. A good, good boy."

Gorvo suppresses the urge to admit Adom to the Legion straight away on the strength on Proty. He does blurt out, "That's so cool! Do it do tricks? Does it let other people approach it?"

"Pride. Proty assisted in my work. It possesses superior optics and can transmit its observations directly to my sensory receptors. It can retrieve objects of limited mass via gravitic attractor systems. You may approach without concern. It is not aggressive."

If anyone opts to approach, Proty will whiz out to meet them halfway, curiously circling that person and s obviously scanning with his optics, the robo-saucer equivalent of sniffing someone's hand.

Ode will, grinning when Proty does that.

“Oh! How clever is it? A sextet of black-backed Proty-sized disks appear in midair in facing pairs, a non-topological path that starts "behind" Proty and ends in front of diskette. Come here, Proty," she calls. still in her precarious sprawl.

[CI: Not sure I understand the set up. What is she asking Proty to do?]

[DK: Diskette makes teleportation disks — I think she’s built a maze of disks where Proty would have to go backwards in order to move forwards toward Diskette.]

[JK: Yup! It's basically a straight line, but only if he follows her voice rather than the normal geometry of the room. ]

[CI: Is the nature of her discs public knowledge? I've read the previous turns but I can't remember if she wanted ever filmed on holo using her powers or anything like that. Trying to remember more for Robot Boy's reaction than Proty's.]

[JK: That's an excellent question, but I think the answer is a qualified yes. Diskette's used the teleport nature of the discs (not for herself, but for other people who would fit through them) in public enough that it's probably known that she can make small space-warping discs, but I'm not convinced (particularly since she hasn't bothered to explain the matter to the public) that people universally believe that all the things she does with them are applications of the space-stretching power; at this point that's probably a single crazy fan theory, but other people might think that the discs that aren't obviously teleports are energy absorbing or projecting (or solid platforms, which, of course, they are only by virtue of being anchored to some nearby solid surface). Even if there were no other verified instance, rescuing small sophonts in the opening adventure by opening a gate to where they were in the plane was pretty obvious. ]

Proty spins around in the air several times, the roving lens of its camera lens sweeping over the floating discs. It levitates higher in the air, then zips over to Diskette, either failing to comprehend the task she assigned him or opting to ignore it. It's dome antenna wags expectantly.

Adom takes a few steps closer to the discs. "Fascination. The reports are correct. You can generate trans-space warp-gates. Like the Creators but with no instrumentality. It would give me pleasure to discuss this ability with you at length when opportunity permits."

"Sure!" Diskette says, "Er, if you make the team, I mean, otherwise we'll see. I can't make them very big or go very far, but they're handy."

He turns his faceless gaze towards his hovering 'pet.' "Proty: Listen and execute." The same sort of weird therimone noise that Proty emitted upon first activating now arises from Adom, ceasing a moment later. Proty zips through the air through the portal Diskette had set behind his original position, executing the series of jumps she laid out for it in the correct sequence. As it emerges, Adom says, "Satisfaction. Proty: Heel." The saucer flies back to its master, resuming its position at his side. "It must be instructed before it can master a new trick. Like any pet."

"So I see, Diskette says, rubbing Protty's "ears" and letting the discs collapse. "Though most animals would go through the portals without thinking, I think; to find the discs confusing you have to model the world around you in your memory, like a human or a computer. If you're operating on more immediate perception, it's simple; you see and hear me in front of you and just go forward."

"Uncertainty. Proty is not an animal. Designation pet is useful but limited. Proty is an extension of self. I am it. It is I. Perception-cognition is blended but unequal. It is difficult to explain. Your right hand with a brain is still your right hand."

Ode stares at his own right hand, pondering this.

Ode’s right hand produces a thought bubble of itself and the right hands of the other Legionnaires rocking out before an ambidextrous audience.

Dolar shakes off her initial confusion and concern about causing offense – a student of Metaxian forms would see a fleeting version of ’the outsider knows nothing of our ways’ ripple over her before she leaves her seat and cautiously approaches Proty. “So, a portion of yourself can act independently at a distance? How far can Proty go before you cannot communicate with him?"

"Uncertainty. Estimation twelve miles. Curiosity. Do I satisfy qualifications for membership in family-unit designate Legion of Super Heroes?"

"Probably," Jinnjahl says, leaning forward a second time. She touches a sketch, and a set of gym equipment appears out of nowhere. "Demonstrating more durable without risking harm is tricky, but could you demonstrate how strong you are?"

[BR: how big a set of gym equipment?]

Mmm. It's just one sketch, and more complicated than a runway, even one with a beacon. So say two machines which can be configured to work different muscle clusters depending on desire and species (they'd have to be more configurable than ours or species-specific), some planks and hanging bars and other stuff for isometric exercise, one machines for walking or stairstepping or jumping or biking depending on how it's configured, and a set of free weights complete with a "machine" that's basically a shell strong enough to withstand the weights falling on it: set the shell up in the right configuration for your exercise, use a lever to move the weight up to holding rack in it, lock the lever down, get inside the shell and exercise relatively safely.

Sound reasonable? Or should I lock it down to just the shell and weights? The rest is basically chrome

Adom steps over to the weight lifting section of the equipment, sets it to the heaviest possible weight, and casually presses it over his head. "Curiosity. Is that satisfactory? I can lift the entire unit if required."

Jinnjahl leans back. "You're more than enough stronger than any of us for your strength to be useful, so I at least am satisfied, but if you join we'll need to know how much you can lift in an emergency."

Adom lowers the weight and faces the Legionnaires. "Pride. I am rated for a lift of eighteen tons before risk to structural integrity occurs."

Page 2: Top Row: Diskette, Miss Anima

Editorial Box: Several Weeks Later

The first panel is an otherwise silent one, with Miss Anima watching a joyfully tearful Faraday Pklan embracing her mother. It’s obvious from the scene that Faraday’s gamble worked, and her mother has been reinstated at her job.

Miss Anima then gets a call on her communicator from the Institute "Bat Island Patient regained consciousness; SP are picking up."

The second panel is SP officer Zendak talking to Alba Coryax aka White Raptor, who is in a holding cell at SP headquarters.

“Look, kid, you have a real opportunity to help yourself out in terms of the charges and sentencing. Just tell us who your clients were….”

Alba smiles his cocky smile, “But officer, I have – everything was arranged through blind drops. I had never even seen the buyer before we met at the Diplomatique. Very cloak and dagger, this stuff.”

Third Panel is officer Erin talking to Diskette, also at SP headquarters

“Unfortunately, Mr. Coryax isn’t being terribly cooperative,” Erin sighs, the image of the ongoing questioning on the wall behind her. “Nor is Mr. Liel. Ok, either Mr. Liel. Raptor’s buyer was a litter-mate of the mercenary your team rescued from Bat Island. He just woke up this morning out of his coma. Neither man is talking, no surprise.”

While not a Wynathian herself, Diskette knows that the bond between litter-mates is often unbreakable, something her terran-origin family has taken advantage of in business transactions. But in this case, it means that the men in custody aren’t likely to reveal their employer.

“Your team’s connecting Mr. Brande’s theories with the supposed bomber from the Diplomatique to Ande Liel tightens things further, since the Liel brothers are cousins of the proprietor of the Cosmos Club. None of them officially work there, but it’s one more link.” She flicks an errant strand of once again red hair back o9ut of her face, “and intel is trying to make a match with the two women Miss Amina sketched from Coryax’s memories.”

Erin grimaces “Unofficially, I think Liel is behind a lot. Officially, we can’t prove any of it.”

"Mr. Music's team, technically," Diskette responds, "but it's all of us. It's frustrating that we can't nail Liel now, but he'll slip up eventually. Plus, Alba probably knows more than he's letting on. Let me talk to him; maybe I can get to him."

Erin shrugs, "it's not like I could stop you if you really wanted to talk to him. Just don't get carried away."

A few minutes later Patin finds herself inside the room with Alba. He smiles a genuine smile. "An unexpected pleasure. My side is healing fine, thanks."

Patin smiles back. "I'm glad; I just meant to weaken the armor, not pierce what was beneath it. So what are you going to do now?"

He shrugs, "Not sure. This," he waves his arms around, his wings being held under soft restraints, "is part of the job. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, happens to everyone. It's also a lot safer for me to _not_ divulge on my clients. And it's safer for you to..." his voice trails off, leaving the thought unfinished.

"To what?" Diskette fills the silence, hands on her hips, "Not that it matters much; you've danced with me twice now; when do I ever play it safe?

"But I don't see what you're getting out of this at this point. I mean, you knew this was your endpoint, eventually, knew how dangerous the job was, so why take it? It's not like the heists were your idea; there's no way you'd take on a job like with without buyers in hand."

"I'm a thief, Felos. It's what I do. I make out pretty well, rainy day fund and all that. Look, come back and visit and I might end up dropping something else by mistake but right now, just don't go chasing after my clients," there's real concern in his eyes. "There are people out there who are _really_ dangerous. Hoist the jolly roger and start slitting throats dangerous.”

[DK: Oooooh, he /likes/ you, Patin. /And/ he’s /clever!/]

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about. You're a thief, yes, but you don't want anyone's throat getting slit, and neither do I. Liel's a known quantity, but this scheme of his is stalled--for now. But if there are people who want to do something worse than sell ships...they're going to hurt people if they're not stopped."

Page 2, Tier 2 left: Mr. Music Bubble Boy

The first panel of tier 2 is Mr. Music and Bubble Boy meeting with Olles Senn in the plaza outside the Daily Planet building. The headline of the Daily Planet “Legion Foils Industrial Espionage Plot in Dramatic Rooftop Battle” is scrolling by on the marquee. Olles is handing each of the teens street purchased ice cream cones.

“One good scoop deserves another,” he quips lamely. “I limited the story to just the foiled heist, and I heard that Miss Pklan’s mother got reinstated. Don’t I feel virtuous.”

“Now, off the record, can you tell me what else you found out?”

With a quick glance at Gorvo to make sure there's nothing he shouldn't say off the record, Ode will fill Olles Senn in.

[LP: Is there anything he should keep mum on? He'd like to know if the reporter can see anything he's missing in terms of connections between the assorted bad guys. But also, Olles has been good to them and Ode would like to reciprocate.]

[BR: I'm going to say no - it's not in genre to worry too much about it, Olles already knows the outline and is a damn good reporter so Ode can't know what Olles doesn't already know. So we can assume Olles ends the day knowing everything one way or the other.]

Olles gives a low whistle between the gap in his teeth. "My, my, my, that's interesting. We have a lot of half-finished, uncorroborated stories on the Cosmos Club in the files. The woman you saw, by the way, is probably a mercenary code-named Detona. Wynathian origin, I think, long history in UP crime files, real name unknown. She's the woman you call when you want an unverifiable accident due to mechanical error, supposedly developed a form of remote control micro-explosive device."

Olles takes a bite of his own snack, a street pretzel, and Gorvo sees a drip of mustard desperate to escape and stain the reporter's shirt. "Nasty customer, she is. Metal Lass is lucky to still have all her fingers. But when would she have had time to rig the crystal?"

"I don't know," Gorvo replies exasperatedly. "We followed the thief straight from the apartment to the club. Detona would have to be very quick to get hold of the crystal and hide a micro-explosive in it. Unless...

"Unless she can just rig things to blow with her mind. I've seen really skilled Tallagians rapidly expand micro force bubbles inside other things to blow them apart. But she's the wrong colour for a Tallagian."

Since Gorvo didn't step in, the mustard splatters messily on Olles' stylish black shirt. The reporter has a dumbstruck look on his face from Gorvo's casual statement. "Now that's...interesting. Do yourselves a favor, legionnaires, and start running that one down: are there any species that can do that? probably not, but check. Take what you know about how she looks and back into a species. Detona first started working 15 years ago, she's supposed to be in her mid 30's. Start looking into news reports about accidents or events for women of that species at or a little before that timeframe in that age range. see what pops."

"Shoe leather, kids. it's how the job is done." Olles looks sage and wise at the youths, then sees the bright yellow splotch on his shirt and throws the rest of the pretzel into the garbage can with a mournful expression.

[LP: I thought about having Mr. Music look up from his notetaking to see that and get napkins and club soda, but... I think that you already have the best beat to end the scene on.]

[MC: Agreed, though Gorvo is tempted to point out that his shoes, and Olles' too, are made from synthetic materials.]

Page 2, Tier 2 right Metal Lass, Robot Boy, Future Boy

[Diane, Josh, Christian, natter away.]

At the Legion Headquarters, Metal Lass and Future Boy are waiting to officially welcome Robot Boy to active duty. He has spent the last several weeks completing a contract to help tag and track Charekesh’s giant sea turtle migrations. The Robot and Proty are approaching the HQ, which is already looking very much improved from the last time we saw it. If one looks carefully enough, you can see the tiny figure of the strange creature that lives there curled up in one of the upper windows.

"What's Robot Boy like?" Tok asks. "I mean, I've read through the newsposts and other data on him [1], but I didn't notice him on the interview day since I was focused on the scintillating girl, and our inductions were separate. But...a non-human origin techno-sapient of alien origin? He must be fascinating!"

[1] Or should it be "them?" Robot Boy's interview seemed to indicate that he didn't identify with a gender, but was happy with pretty much all pronouns, so I could see he, them, em, or xi.

[BR: I leave that up to Christian, but if we're going with Robot Boy then Him would seem the appropriate pronoun to simplify things.]

[JK: True. It didn't fit the flow, but I was going to have Diskette suggest a non-gendered name given that Adom didn't strongly identify with a gender; Robotic or Robo or Robotesque or something given that Adom is robot-like, not a boy or a robot, exactly. But it looks like we're going with Robot Boy for now]

“He is……hard to read.” Dolar answers. “But he always tells you the emotional context of his speech, which is a considerate action many sophonts fail to appreciate. And his desire to help others seems sincere.” Her posture shifts to a form of wry amusement. “For someone who was buried alive for more than a million years, he is surprisingly well-adjusted." "I'd say, I mean, he must be self-repairing at a phenomenal rate, with error checking much better than a base-human's biology--but you mean his personality, of course. Still, by my calculations, it's time to stop talking about him if we don't want to be rude ."

The strange creature stands up, looks expectantly out the window at something, and then leaps away.

[CI: Does Robot Boy notice the strange creature, or is this more of an aside for the reader?]

[BR: it’s set up for something in a few minutes.]

Adom strides into the headquarters and the presence of his new teammates, openly studying the changes in the interior design. Proty is "off leash," hovering at shoulder height and visibly vibrating with an anxious desire to dash off and play. Adom halts at what he considers a respectful distance, about a dozen paces. "Joy. Greetings to Legion of Super Heroes kin-friend code-designate Metal Lass. It brings pleasure to be in your presence again." He bows his head momentarily, then shifts his position so that he is directly facing Future Boy. "Curiosity. I am Legion-member designate Robot Boy. Who are you?"

"Hi, Robot Boy," the Wythian responds, flashing a big grin. "I'm Future Boy, also a Legionairre--I was at the same testing day you were, though I'd teamed up with the Legion before that in an unofficial capacity for the Entropy Monk case, and joined up officially a few weeks ago. I've read a lot about you. I can see the future, or rather, make predictions with a high degree of accuracy using wide observations and unconscious synthesis. And also, I invent things. Which reminds me, I'm going to need to take some measurements to kit you up with a Legion jet pack, since based on your nature and strength, I'm guessing you're heavier than the average Legionairre .

"Fascination. I have rocket-assisted leaping capabilities. Can your jet pack design be modified to incorporate my existing systems? I do not have any data on the relative weights of the other Legion members. I have observed that that I am heavier than the average soft-skin humanoid inhabitant. I can provide you with any necessary data on my dimensions."

Future boy nods. "The 'Jetpack' I've designed is properly speaking an antigrav device with jet-assisted propulsion, so working in existing rockets should make the design easier, if anything. My biggest worry is power. I mean, you're strong enough that I could just make the unit bigger to make things work, but that's awkward and has other consequences. On the other hand, it's possible that I could just drop the jet entirely on your model and devote the unit entirely to A.G.; we'll have to see what works best. I don't know enough about your body to know whether it's possible, or even desirable, to finesse the power problem by drawing on your own reserves. I've been thinking about that for future versions in any case even for the human-origin legionnaires; quite a few of us clearly have power reserves that far exceed what's normally safely possible with modern technology, so being able to tap into that could make miracles happen. Er, sorry, I get carried away a bit; my first name -- Tok -- got adjusted for a nickname a lot growing up, and it wasn't entirely unjustified."

Adom spares Proty a glance as the saucer-pet continues to vibrate. "Patience. I will ask. Is pet-designate Proty permitted to rove? It is its function to explore and record."

Dolar chimes in. "Proty is certainly welcome to explore the clubhouse. And it is appropriate for you to use my given name here as well — the ‘hero names’ are really just to avoid confusion during missions.” Her body shifts into the form that expresses remembered embarrassment. "I must admit, even though I understand their utility, they make me feel a little silly."

[BR: The code names are AWESOME! They're LEGION]

At Dolar's statement Proty shoots off to explore, only to be tackled by the strange badger-cat thing. The creature starts chasing Proty around the base, and later in the conversation we see the tables have turned and Proty is chasing the happily romping ball of bristly fur.

"Embarrassment. I will refrain from utilizing code-designates. I am yet mastering the customs of this world. I apologize also for being unavailable during your last mission. I was called to assist in cataloging the lifeforms of this planet. I have experience in this."

"I like the code names," Tok says, "They remind us that we're supposed to try to be larger than life even when that's not natural. But they're probably too formal for this kind of chat. So, do you have any idea what that thing is, then?" Tok points vaguely in the direction of the creature playing with Proty.

"Embarrassment. I cannot identify the species. The lines are familiar, but my data of observed fauna is a million years out of date. Confusion. It is not a pet? Is it vermin?"

[CI: I was waiting to see if Brian might chime in as to whether Adom knows anything about the creature, or its ancestors at any rate. I suppose it would have helped if I had actually asked...]

"It's not vermin," Tok replies quickly, "it was here before we were! But we don't know what it is."

[BR: your choices are ominous foreshadowing or running gag.]

[DK: Duh, running gag right up until the point that it “matures”, grows to enormous size, and goes on a misunderstood rampage around the port until the Legion uses its affection for them to bring it under control.]

[BR: if you think I'm _that_ predictable you are in for a sore awakening when my secret plans do come to fruition.]

Page 2 Bottom Tier

The first panel is an exterior shot of the Comet Club. There’s a word balloon coming from it that is simply ‘Unacceptable!”

Second panel is inside Ande’s office, with him behind his big status desk and the curtain closed behind him. Two other members of the Liel litter are in the room with him. “These children have become entirely too much of a nuisance! And the media coverage makes them all but untouchable!”

The two men are glancing at each other, both clearly relieved that their boss isn’t going to ask them to try to snuff super powered kids. “Detona’s flight takes some of my best leverage off the board, I have just heard that your brother has regained consciousness, (‘Clark Be Praised’ he mutters, as both other men do the same) and has now joined your other brother in Hoose/Gow. And we didn’t even get the starship plans. The entire situation is a botch.”

“What should we do, boss,” One of them asks, as the other eyes the curtain warily. While it looked like their cousin wasn’t going to take it out on them, one can never be sure.

Third panel, much the same construction, “All the Liel kin should disappear for a bit; head to the ship, stay out of sight. As long as your brothers don’t talk, there’s nothing that can link the Club to anything else, but I can’t risk any of you being seen here, as the SPs will be looking for you and at me.”

He ponders for a moment. “What we really need is a big distraction, something large enough to take the SPs eyes off of all of us for a bit while we clean up and recover….”

Issue title: BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR….

Page 3 Top Tier (whole team)

Just as Mr. Music is gaveling in the first meeting with Robot Boy present, there is a communicator chirp from Robot Boy’s internal comm link.

“Adom, this is Captain Queen of the UPSV Naiad,” the unnecessary formality from one of the first soft kin that Adom met upon his rescue is an indicator that this is an official call. “I understand that you have started your time with the social service club ‘Legion of Super-Heroes’?”

"Pride. I have. I am with kin-unit Legion now."

“I’d like to formally request their, your, assistance in a matter. Several of the native aquatic fauna we were tracking have broken away from the group and are heading North by Northwest. We don’t have immediate resources to follow them and see if their deviation might have consequences. Does your team have the flexibility to assist?”

"Dismay. I cannot answer for soft-kin Legionnaires. I will ask. I pledge my assistance regardless of response." Adom relays the Captain's request, replaying her transmission. "Concern. The creatures are very large. And radioactive. Their deviation could represent a danger to others if not to themselves. Hope. May I pledge Legion assistance?"

Gorvo pipes up. "Of course we'll help. It will be fun!"

Adom receives a data file with the giant turtle’s original course and their current course and location, which Proty is able to project as a hologram for the rest of the team to see.

As that image comes up Jinnjahl pulls up the Encyclopedia Galactica file on the Charakesh native fauna.

The Gamera (Testudinata Urania) bares visual similarity to the Terran Sea Turtle, but it is a considerably different animal. The Gamera’s shell is perfectly balanced for protection from predators and shelter from pressure variation, as the Gamera will dive from the surface to the crust deep under the sea near tectonic plates and scrape up the surface to filter and store radioactive elements as a means of heat generation in the extremes of Charackesh’s environment. The shells up to a meter thick [is the GM switching between imperial and metric measurement? Of course he is, he’s an American!], and is partially constructed of repurposed ocean crust. Gamera hatch at one meter in size, and by adulthood are upwards of 30 meters in diameter. When Gamera reach the last stage of their lifespan (at 45 meters or larger) they abandon diving, living the remainder of their lives on the surface. The slow decay of their shells at that point produce fertile soil, and based on their proximity to Charekesh’s surface land a Gamera may become home to plant and avian life. They are beautiful parts of the UP capital planet’s ecosystem.

Gorvo is likely slightly scandalized by what is left out of that description, and can add the following:

“The Gamera is a versatile predator, making use of both its beak and clawed flippers to engage larger animals and a baleen filter to strain the sea for smaller food sources.

“The filtered water is super-heated (the Gamera actually cooks its food as it eats, improving its ability to extract nutrition from the consumed sea life) and can be ‘spouted’ back out at considerable range. Depending on how the Gamera holds it before spouting it may be primarily steam. And Radioactive.

“The usually ignore bipeds as they aren’t food and few are dumb enough to attack the things, and some hermits or research crews have set up on the surface of elderly ones. They found scars on the shells that are evidence of wrestling even worse things under the sea, and an autopsy required quantities of anti-matter to completely penetrate the decaying shell.

Adom, by personal experience, can add that the Gamera’s aura of warmer water and nutritionally viable waste make them eco-pockets – wherever there are Gamera there are also lots of smaller fish, and larger shark-like predators on those smaller fish, and toxic sea snakes that use the Gamera’s shells as coral reefs. And while Gamera mostly ignore soft-kin vessels the captain of UPSV Naiad warned Adom that when Gamera get ‘stroppy’ they will submerge under a ship and rise quickly. He’s seen one over tip a surface craft (and an anti-gravity skimmer at that!) more than three times the Gamera’s mass and swamp others.

Gorvo summarizes these details and reminds the group, "The Gameras are big but not dumb. They won't see us as a threat so long as we refrain from hurting or startling them, but if they start spraying super-heated steam it's time to pull back ."

Ode briefly daydreams about an underwater show, with the band -- er, team -- accompanied by the turtles playing percussion on their own shells.

As he comes to understand how big they are, this vision morphs into the band doing their performance on the back of a happy turtle, with other turtles watching, audience seated on their backs. Smaller turtles are still accompanying the band on their shells.

Somewhat belatedly, he tries to remember what he knows about the team's aquatic capabilities and just how deep these turtles go underwater.

• Bubble Boy engages in extreme scuba diving as a hobby _and_ his force field provides not just short-term life support but permanent protections against “the bends” due to air pressure regulation.
• Robot Boy is functionally invulnerable to environmental conditions.
• On the down side, sound travels differently under water so Ode’s music might be less effective vs totally submerged targets
• if Diskette tries to make portals from the air to underwater they will spill out; however Ode has seen her play with water before, and Diskette is perfectly capable of stay underwater a while with a disk-snorkel.
• Metal Lass May have difficulty doing her forms underwater.
• Miss Anima needs to be able to touch her images which are often on paper (Though given Jinnjahl she doubtless has a spare waterproof sketchbook; or to get meta a sketch of full water proof sketchbook….) Jinnjahl can make useful under-water equipment with sketches
• Future Boy is neither unusually useful nor unusually hurt by being surrounded by water; he's entirely usually very capable of drowning, but given time he can certainly improve an underwater craft; this has -not- been his priority; has he had a premonition about this, Ode wonders….

[BR Josh raises an interesting question but no, Future Boy didn't have a premonition on this, which means it's based on some well outside-the box circumstances that haven't had any media coverage; Future Boy has read about the Gamera migration because it's close enough to New Metropolis to be news and with the science vessel following them. That in itself may mean something.]

[MC: Re 'that in itself may mean something.' When I'm the GM it usually means that the GM forgot a pesky precognitive power. I'm sure Brian's more on top of things than I'd ever be.]

[BR: Hush, you. I do have some outs in that the power is written up as being under GM control _and_ that Josh was insistent that it be super pattern recognition and not actual precog. Since this is a seriously under the radar and out of the box problem I get to nod sagely and go “yes, interesting isn’t it...”]

"Where are they, and where will they be tomorrow and the next day?" Jinnjahl asks, "Will they stay in the habitable zone?" She considers. "What equipment will we want, and what equipment that we can't get or that is too big to bring, should I sketch? I don't have a great variety of waterproof pages." Adom is able to adjust the display of the Gameras' position, and it shows the creatures are south and slightly west of New Metropolis, and like the city their new course will keep them in the habitable band. Unfortunately their new course has them intersecting with New Metropolis by 'midnight' tonight.

Dolar leans forward with a gesture of concern. “It would seem that we are not being blessed with a great deal of time. If we cannot convince the Gamera to change course, how feasible is it to redirect the city instead?"

Adom considers the logistics for a moment. "Skepticism. Would it not be problematic to evacuate the entire city in time? Concern. This deviation in course is aberrant. Perhaps there is an external factor confounding their instinctual navigation that could be neutralized."

"Yes," says Ode. "Could be another Bat Island situation.”

Dolar twists in the forms of avoiding misunderstanding. “I agree that evacuating the city would not be possible in the allotted time, Adom. But the city also migrates. Is it possible to slow the city’s progress so the Gamera is more likely to miss it? There must be some engineers we could consult with — and it would buy us some time while we investigate."

"We know the Science Police," Jinnjahl says, "we don't know the city propulsion engineers. They do."

She looks at Adom. "Our mission has just changed from investigation to redirection: is there any way to lure the Gamera, or otherwise change their course?"

"Uncertainty. They metabolize radioactive material. Perhaps they could be induced to follow a sufficiently irradiated source.”

“A very interesting idea,” Dolar says. “If it is not too large and encased in a metal sphere, I believe I could manipulate a radioactive lure at a safe distance from us."

[CI: Sorry, missed the fact that there was a question directed to Adom. Not sure if he knows any other method of attracting them (Brian?), other than having a Japanese school boy sing to them, because, of course, Gamera is a friend to all children.]

[BR: the Naiad was studying them to see why they take the course they do, so no one had any idea what might induce them to change course so radically. Though a check to see if today is City-Wide Singing Schoolchildren day might be... no, that's not it.]

[BR: as for the SPs, we can assume you call them and let them know the issue - I expect that conversation will take place in tier 3 of this page.]

Page 3 Middle Tier, whole team

The next tier is a single panel long shot of the Legion's disused spaceship HQ's hangar bay, where tok has just pulled the cover off a gravskim that can be best described as ‘retro’. The Legionnaires appear multiple times int eh panel as they walk around the latest addition to their team.

Future Boy pulls down a tarp, revealing an a conspicuously retro gravskim, kitted out in chrome and brass, looking like nothing if not a 1953s Cadillac, up-sized to be able to hold the team and gear with room to spare, and floating happily without any wheels. "This is Bessie," he says.

The mechanical gizmos behind Adom's face visor whirl and buzz rapidly as he studies the craft. "Curiosity. You refer to vehicle-unit as 'Bessie.' Is not that designation typically reserved for soft-sentients? Is it intelligent?"

"Not necessarily," Future Boy responds. "You could think of it as a practice related to animism; humans tend to give names to anything we spend enough time with and view as an individual and think of them a bit as a person even though we know they're not, like a pet rock; swords, houses, countries, and certainly vehicles."

"Bessie was originally an industrial loader, part of the complement of the base's original configuration when it was decommissioned. Of course, she'd gone to seed with the rest of the place when she was abandoned, but she made a great testing ground for my ideas of different ways to build gravity rigs before I had to go too deep into miniaturization."

"Of course, she's got power to spare; at least once I got her main gravity generators online, but the spoiler tubes aren't just for style; they act as gravity gears, turning what would be pointless and for our purposes mostly useless power into speed and, by letting them be stered, maneuverability. But mostly, of course, the point of Bessie is that while our jetpacks only have a few hours of flight, it's going to take a lot of concentration to use them actively and they aren't built for long flights yet. But Bessie? She holds days of power as long as we don't drain her batteries for something crazy, and her core technology is hundreds of years old and stable as a rock."

Gorvo's jaw drops steadily as Future Boy runs through his description of Bessie. Finally he blurts, "That is SO COOL. Our own grav-car, and stylish to boot! I call shotgun!"

"Confusion. The vessel is equipped with armaments?"

Dolar shakes her head while her hands ripple in the forms that show amusement at a minor misunderstanding among friends. “While I would not be at all surprised if Tok has installed some kind of defensive machinery inside “Bessie", I believe Gorvo means that he would like to sit up front.

“So I assume; it's a figure of speech -- although since Bessie's a bit on the big side, nearly everyone can sit up front, though not necessarily right next to the pilot. But I think you're ideal for that if you're not going to pilot yourself, Gorvo, since the oceans are your domain.”

"I didn't put weapons in her, no; I mean, I guess we could repurpose something, but I mostly figured that the Legionaires would be better weapons than anything we could include, and that it was better to use the space for more engine.

"She's also got a full comm station, fitted with pretty much any sensor or radio I could think of. I don't like lacking access to information, so in this particular area I did put a lot of minitarization into her."

"I'd say she's designed without anything to spare, but that would be a bit of a lie. After all, she was an experiment to start. So I haven't really had time to make sure there wasn't anything unneeded; she's got extra secondary and tertiary engines, and secondary gravity spoilers, for instance, not because I expect to need them, but because they were experiments with ideas that didn't end up panning out. I mean, they worked, but they didn't work for the jet packs, so I moved on."

"Finally, as a mobile home, she's a bit lacking. She does have some bunk space for the while team belowdecks -- but with all the things I have packed in here, it's tight quarters. I mean, hopefully we won't need to use them on this trip; the if we can't redirect the Gamera within a few hours we have a lot more problems, but for longer trips, it might get a bit tight."

"We need a safety officer," says Ode. "Not for Bessie. For the water."

"Safety officer?" Patin asks, "How do you mean?"

"Someone who knows the environment well enough to give safety orders and overrule me because I don't ."

Page 3, Bottom Tier

It’s another long panel, showing Bessie and the Legion over the ocean, heading to the wayward whale-turtles.

Officer Erin’s voice is coming over the communications array “And the Legion is already in route? I’d make a comment about asking forgiveness rather than permission, but this isn’t technically a crisis yet. I’ve sent the information up to the city council and the SP leadership and they’re going to accelerate us a bit. The Gamera will pass neatly behind us and give everyone a nice sightseeing opportunity.”

“But you be sure to let us know immediately if there’s another change in direction….” There’s an edge to her voice there that makes it clear that the SPs are taking this, and the Legion’s assessment, seriously.

"Sure thing, Officer Erin! We're en route at speed. If it wasn't for my force-field my hair would be a proper mess."

“I’m sure someday you’ll find a problem big enough to meet up your hair, Gorvo,” Erin chuckles.

Gorvo confers with Ode before dropping Olles a line about the team's current task at hand.

"Go ahead," says Ode.

Gorvo closes off the first call and switches over to Olles. At the reporters pick up he lays out the situation.

“Okay,” Olles says, and the team can hear him scrambling for a stylus to get this down, “to confirm, three giant radioactive turtles are bearing down on the city and the UPs first official super-hero team is moving to intercept and redirect? Do I have that right?”

“*Attempt* to redirect,” Dolar interjects. Though invisible to Olles, her teammates can see her use the forms that show the need for precision in an important endeavor. “Also, the city will be sped up slightly to move it beyond the point where the animals are currently predicted to cross its path.”

Olles tone is serious, “attempting... modesty makes good copy but poor headlines... we got the notice about the change in speed and the rare migratory viewing opportunity, but this is a new angle. I’m sure it’s nothing big, but your team being out there makes for a better story.”

“Thanks for the update, Legion! Let me know if anything changes...”

"Off the record," says Ode, "is it... foolish to wonder if this is another Bat Island?"

There was a moment of silence, then Olles asks “But how would someone keep something as big as a Gamera?

"You... wouldn't. You'd have a destination in mind, out of the way, a... big underwater place or... cave or lagoon? And you'd tell people to show up at the right time.”

“Does a place like that exist on this planet?” Dolar asks.

Page 4-5: Whole Team

This is a giant two page spread right out to the edges of the paper with some overlaid panels. The shot is primarily if a tiny image of Bessie in the upper left corner and three massive Gamera in the ocean under them. None of them are fully on panel, leaving their size still something not containable by the page. The center one is past diving age, and there is verdant greenery on its huge back. The other two are smaller, but only in comparison. The sea around them teems with sea life of various sorts.

All three are turning their heads to look up at the incoming ship.

“Gods and hammers....” says Dolar.

"...whoa..." mouths Ode. (If there's a close up for this, we see him reflected in the eye of one of the Gamera. Big eye. Tiny Ode with tiny whoa-balloon.)

"Well," Patin says, "It's probably good that they've noticed us?

“Notice, good. Take an interest in, maybe less so." Gorvo's force bubble visibly darkens as he reflexively protects himself.

"Still, I guess we get closer. Right, Mr. Music?"

Adom studies the creatures, matching each one with the data profile in his memory banks. "Admiration. The creatures were relatively passive towards the Naiad during its period of study. It must be hoped that whatever factor has diverted their course has not triggered any aggressive instincts. One of the crew gave these specimens the designates Inky and Pinky and Clyde. He found it humorous. I did not understand."

"Was there a fourth Gamora he named Blinky?" Tok asks.

Following their pre-arranged plan, Miss Anima gingerly extracts a picture of what she hopes will materialize as a radioactive material (she has marked it with a 'danger, radiation' sticker and placed it partially in water to display the Cherenkov radiation) . Sticking her hand through a disk that Diskette appears to be holding in her hands for maximum control (so it sort of looks like Jinnjahl is sticking her arm through Patin's torso), we see her hand and the drawing emerge a considerable distance from the ship, on the outside of Bubble Boy's newly erected protective sphere. With a nod between Miss Anima and Metal Lass, the Slan girl animates the picture and immediately whips her hand back, with Diskette closing it immediately thereafter.

The sphere of radioactive metal is now under Metal Lass' control, and as she lowers it towards the vast beasts the Legion can see the creatures’ eyes move to track and focus on the sphere. Keeping it as far away as she can manage - some 80 meters since she isn't under the stress of combat - Metal Lass' graceful Forms lower the lure closer to the creatures’ eye level as Future Boy maneuvers Bessie closer. The plan, ad hoc and improvisational as it may be, seems to be working, as for several minutes the great beasts - primarily the largest - do shift their direction to follow the tempting energy source.

One of the creatures dives gently under the water, perhaps to feed, perhaps because the radiation had triggered some instinct to dive, and the ripple of its passages disturbs their surrounding ecosphere slightly, so Gorvo can see a small school of meter-long predatory fish attack smaller beasts that had been hiding in the Gamera's shadow.

"They're glorious," Gorvo breathes. "Nothing like them exists on Tallag, nothing so large, and yet so serene. It's like watching islands play and swim.”

Dolar smiles in agreement, and adds a ripple of affection to her forms. “Let's see whether we can make them dance ."

[BR: Now making Detect danger rolls! Proty (who I am assuming is out and recording this - Christian are you also transmitting back to the SPs? the Naiad? Olles Senn? All of the above? or just to Bessie, in which case Myles, Josh, since you’re at the controls are _you_ transmitting the images back?), Bubble Boy and Miss Anima all make it.]

[CI: He would transmit to Bessie and the Naiad. Unless someone specifically requested he do so, he would not have thought to include the SPs or Olle Send -- although we can certainly say that instruction came off screen if we want to.]

[JK: Yeah, Future Boy is transmitting this to the SPs and Ollie (with a delay request on broadcast)]

Some primal instinct causes Gorvo to look up from the underwater scene to the back of the largest Gamera, spotting something glinting in the trees. Miss Anima, who had been sketching the scene, also catches an unexpected movement. Both have a few seconds to puzzle out what they might be seeing before Proty chirps something to Robot Boy about the presence of another bipedal life form on the island-sized beast.

There's no way Gorvo doesn't experience a sinking feeling when a turn of Bessie brings the mottled grey skin and distinctive braid of Hardo Senn into view....

"Curiosity. That is not a normal element of Gamera ecology. Do you recognize that soft-skin?"

"Crashing comets! That's Hardo Senn, the Tallagian scientist. What damn nonsense is he playing at?"

"Confusion. I detect no comets. Their impact would be blunted at this depth. Curiosity. Who is Tallagian scientist designate Hardo Senn? I require further input before I can classify the nature of his nonsense."

"It's an interjection," Patin says, her tone flat and somewhat disgusted, "It's just an indication of surprise, not meant to be taken literally. Hardo is clearly responsible in some fashion for the movement of the Gamora towards the city; we just need to figure out how and how to stop him. And we don't have time, but you need to learn some more English; not just words, but tone, shading, metaphor. Learn to understand it even if you're not comfortable reproducing it, at least."

"Clarity. My soft-kin also used interjections sparingly. 'Crashing comets!' was not among them. I will add it to my repertoire. Thank you for your chastisement."

"How did he get there?" says Ode. "And why?"

"Uncertainty. Do we have a means of communicating with him effectively? Perhaps he possesses a radio receiver? If he is somehow controlling the Gamera it is possible he is unaware their course will intersect with a major population center."

“You haven’t met Hardo.” Dolar sighs. “As an experiment, I could move the lure at a sharper angle away from the city, and we could see what the Gamera do in response."

Before the Legionnaires have a chance to see if that would work, Senn steps out into the open and points theatrically at the Legionnaires

And Tok floors the turbines and spins the old-style steering wheel central to the ship's controls sharply, causing Bessie to swing to the left and accelerate markedly .

"Tok!" Diskette shouts, "What are you-"

Page 6: Whole Team

The same concept of a bleeds off the page, the Gamera are too big to fully see background image, this time of the two Gamera on the surface unleashing gouts of radioactive pressurized steam at the Legionnaires and Bessie. A good third of the panel is pure white of the steam, with Bessie bobbing inside the spray contained within Bubble Boy’s force sphere.

[BR: attack roll for the first steam gout is 20 - a clear and definite miss, possibly because of Bubble Boys force field, possible because of Future Boy’s reflexes at the controls – I’ll leave it to Josh and Myles to apply credit to that. The second attack roll is a 1, a successful hit that shatters Bubble Boy’s power. The carried attack for radioactivity is a 19, so no concerns on that score. By the rules of Bubble Boy’s force field, his heavy field is down until he spends an action to restart it, and he took 14 points of feedback damage from the field going down. Fortunately, no one took Hit Point damage thanks to the force field.

"-doing!?" Diskette finishes, her question immediately answered as the Gamera open fire, the blast only missing due to Future Boy's anticipatory action, the radiation easily blocked by Gorvo's force field .

The second, larger Gamera’s blast is wider and more powerful, hitting Bubble Boy’s protective shield like a runaway freight train. The kinetic feedback wracks his body with wash of endorphins, leaving him shaken and off balance, but with extreme concentration he holds the field until Bessie is blown clear from the radioactive steam, protecting his comrades from that invisible killer.

Future Boy struggles at the controls, but keeps Bessie as upright and stable as he can: Miss Anima nearly goes into a bulkhead but is able to grip a seating restraint with her prehensile toes and keep herself stable, albeit half clinging to the ceiling. Meta Lass keeps her forms intact, stopping the sphere from dropping into the ocean.

Cracking over the intercom the legionnaires can hear a transmission from the Tellagi on the Gamera’s back. “Crippled, they called me! Broken! Not a TRUE Tellagi any more! You and your coffee spills and condescending glances, Gorvo, are you laughing at me now? No one laughs at Monster Boy! I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!”

[BR: reactions? Given the scale of the creatures, we might want to treat this as ship to ship combat – you get one action at the end of the round but for x4 effect, or can make a midrange save for the x64 effect – or you can go on normal initiative. Your call.]

[JK: I think Future Boy is mostly occupied driving and keeping the car moving, though if someone has a direction they want the ship going other than "dodging" I'm happy to hear it. FB will try to focus, so he can get his defensive bonus vs further attacks.]

"What the grife are you doing?" Ode shouts into the communicator, furious enough to hit the expletive like hitting a Robl hitting a drum that impinged on his personal space. "You've developed an amazing gift and _this_ is what you use it on? What the bloody grife is wrong with you, Hardo Senn ?"

Dolar turns her head to look directly at Adom’s whirling faceplate. “Now, you comprehend ."

Adom hesitates, uncertain whether League protocol allows him to address their antagonist or if he is expected to defer to the more experienced members, until it occurs to him that he is many thousands of years older than his teammates, which, one could argue, carries its own kind of seniority. He broadcasts, "Pity. You are confused and endangering innocents. Please desist and surrender so that you may receive appropriate psychological counseling ."

He turns to face Metal Lass. "Uncertainty. He should be restrained for his own safety. The aquatic environment poses no hindrance to me but I am not a fast or adept swimmer. Can you use your abilities to torpedo me through the water?"

Without missing a step of her metal-manipulating dance, Metal Lass quickly estimates Robot Boy’s mass. “I could, but I would have to drop the radioactive sphere.” Her eyes widen as inspiration strikes her,

“Miss Anima! How long until the sphere disappears? Future Boy! What are the odds that a Gamara will dive after a radioactive mass as it sinks?"

Jinnjahl calculates, then says “The sphere has a about 15 minutes of life left.”

"The Gamera would probably follow if they were under their own control," Future Boy responds, his eyes blank as he slips into a precognitive fugue, "but they're controlled. I can't predict whether they'd break out of it; I don't have enough data."

"So Monster-boy over there needs to be distracted," Diskette says. "I'll open up a way in front of us; if you go through and grab him, that will be plenty distracting." [Diskette will use her end of round action for a x4 large teleport circle whose other side can be a few feet behind Hardo Sen.]

“Wait a moment.” Dolar interrupts. “It's a good plan of attack, but we need to decide how to hold him once we have him."

"Don't know, don't care, not listening, concentrating ," Diskette says, "But I'm not planning on being here the next time a turtle blasts at it without Bubble Boy blocking the beast's beam; you can if you want!"

Ode mutes communications with Hardo Senn on his end and says, "I'll try to keep him talking. Gorvo needs to keep him from destroying anything, right? Get him first. Knock him out if we have to, until we figure out his range. Get him the grife away from the Gamera!"

"If Diskette can get us to him," Jinnjahl says, not looking up as she flips through pictures, "he can't attack us with the Gamera without attacking himself. They're too big. But drop the sphere, by all means. If Senn stops the Gamera from following, that's a few seconds he's not doing anything else. If he *doesn't* stop them from following, he's going to be busy swimming."

Gorvo says, "If Diskette can get us close to him, my force field can overpower his. That's what he meant by 'broken.' His force fields are weak. I can immobilize him down and Diskette can get us away from the Gamera. I doubt his control over the creatures has great range or, crazed or not, he wouldn't risk travelling on them. "

Gorvo mutters as he clenches his fists. "It's me he wants anyway. Get me close and I'll give him what he wants ."

Diskette concentrates and, pushing her power well past what she every thought possible before joining the Legion, creates an 8’ diameter portal to the surface of the Gamera, not far from where Monster Boy is directing his attack.

Before the Legionnaires can get through, however, Future Boy yanks the yoke of the Gravskim hard right and down, causing Diskette, Metal Lass and Mr. Music to plummet through the open gate .

Miss Anima yelps and makes a jump through the gate, hoping she makes it through cleanly. (She assumes Future Boy has a good reason to do what he did, but that doesn't mean she wants to stay in the aircar, and she does want to try to deal with the person driving the Gamera.)

Outside the aircar, the radioactive lure begins a free-fall toward the ocean.

Page 7: Whole Team

Again, with the oversize, bleeding off the edges background panel with overlapping close ups. In this case, the image is the oversize panel is the Gamera that dove just before the attack started breaching out of the water under the Legion’s Gravskim, flippers extended, glorious in its size, displaying the variegated coloration of its shell, as it snatches Bessie in its enormous jaws.

The first overlay panel is Diskette and Metal Lass, having with their training immediately compensated for the sudden changes in velocity and orientation from falling through a portal that was now under them rather than beside them to a place that was 90 degrees off from that, Metal Lass in a defensive crouch while Diskette stuck the two-point landing, while Mr. Music is flat on his face in the verdant undergrowth of the Gamera’s carapace. Miss Anima came flying through the hole and landed in an all four-position that would have been awkward for a Wynathian but not for her Slan physiology.

The things that the Legionnaires know are that Bubble Boy hadn’t yet restored the field around the ship, and that, industrial loader origin or no, there’s no way Bessie could survive the crushing power of those jaws.

"Oof," says Ode (in very small letters).

Jinnjahl scrambles for a tree branch with a good view and without monsters.

Diskette looks back at the ship, now vanishing inside the beast's mouth. "Oh no! Or...was Tok trying to evade something again? I could...but I lost control of the portal when I had to focus on landing, and can't make it again without knowing where it's going!"

Dolar glares daggers at Monster Boy’s back, a black thought balloon with white jagged letters reading, *YOU….*

The second overlay panel is Monster Boy laughing maniacally, yelling “See, Bubble Boy! See who’s stronger now!”

The third overlay panel is the inside of Bessie, which has avoided being crushed due to Future Boy’s precognitive dive – taking the gravskim into the Gamera’s mouth rather than being crushed by its jaws or pummeled by the beast falling on them. He, Bubble Boy, Robot Boy feel the gravskim’s frame shudder as the beast hits the water. The emergency lights are on, and the portal that would connect them to the surface world has winked out.

In the dim glow of the emergency lighting from Bessie, Gorvo looks round for some way out while trying to stand upright as the skimmer bobs and rolls in the torrents of seawater sluicing between the gullies and crevasses of the Gamera's massive tongue.

"Nice driving, Future Boy. I'd hate to think what would happen if this goliath got its teeth on Bessie.

"Now, how to we get out of here? Preferably without injuring the Gamera."

"Thanks," Tok says, "though I fear I've driven us from the fire into the frying pan; less obviously unsafe, but no less surely cooked. The most obvious, if also entirely unreasonable way to escape is to induce the beast to spit us out in one of those fiery blasts, perhaps with indigestion -- but it would require extreme protection to survive the heat and power of the blast at point blank range. Alternatively, and possibly more safely, we might be able to make our way to where the beast gets rid of waste--if we can survive that long, I suppose that might be less immediately deadly."

[BR: Fantastic Voyage! Or, alternately, Magic School Bus!]

**********

[BR: teams were mostly chosen on the following criteria: Gorvo and Adom need to have their Adaptation/Life Support powers highlighted. Josh’s PCs need to get split up, and having Diskette in the ship makes getting out too easy, plus in a few minutes they’ll be ‘most dangerous gaming’ through the jungles of the Gamera with the local wildlife out to kill them, and that’s very high agility sword swingy. I was torn on whether to put Metal Lass in the ship to have the nascent romance be ‘we may not live through this’, but ‘He’s dead!’ is just as good, and putting her on the Gamera lets us play into some of her power’s limitations in that she now has a very limited amount of metal immediately available. Again, it was a toss up to have Mr. Music in the ship so he and Diskette both had teams to lead, but better I think to have them together and grating on each other still. Finally, every once in a while I like to highlight Miss Anima’s off beat Speed Bonus: she was best positioned to be able to make a decision on staying or going, and while I think she’d have more fun with that in the Gamera-back jungles, she can also summon up life support gear for the underwater sequence.]

[BR: Now, in pure comic book terms the readers wouldn’t see the inside the ship heroes again until next issue, but we’re dispensing with that. Want are everybody’s immediate dialogue reactions? Fighty-stuff will start off next issue.]

Page 8: Reactions

There are four panels on this page: one is the crew of the UPSV Naiad, who have been watching the encounter via Robot Boy’s transmission in fascination, then shock, and now horror. Captain Queen, deadpan with shock, says “They’ve never done that. I’m not sure they can survive that….”

The second panel is the office of the Science Police, where Officer Erin and Sergeant Zendak are also monitoring the feed. Erin has gone pale, in start contrast to her vibrant ginger hair, one hand over her mouth. “No,” she whispers. “The kids.”

Behind her Zendak is grabbing the communicator, raising command. “We have a problem. A BIG problem!”

The third panel is the desk of Olles Senn, receiving what were supposed to be puff piece transmissions of local do-gooder youth helping out a science crew before everyone in the city got to see the pretty sea creatures. Now they may be the opening sequence in a disaster/horror film. Ever the newsman, his first words are “how do I go to press…with this…?”

Finally, inside Ande’s office, his criminal cartel’s wiretap on the SP has paid off. “Yes!” Ande’s fist pumps the air as he yells out “Get both crews moving! This is what we were wishing for!”

‘’’TO BE CONTINUED (?) IN THE NEXT ISSUE OF ACTION COMICS!’’’