December 29, 2011- Added Dragon's Teeth to the Hero Museum part of the Contents page.

December 10, 2011- Added the Magistracy's origins to the contents page. They start with Jerry Silver.

November 25, 2011- Finished the first draft of The Right Hand of Doom. It is posted on my blog at herogames.com/blogs.

November 1-30, 2011- Participating in the national novel writing month. The Right Hand of Doom is being posted on my blog at the Champions forums.

October 30. 2011- Added a chapter to The Rangers' Monster Invasion. Cord and Joe start tracking the monster down.

October 28, 2011- Added a chapter to Imaginary Enemies. Mack Foster starts his search while arguing with his table and a mailbox.

October 26, 2011- Added a chapter to The Abominable Amulet. Eric plans for his future.

October 26, 2011- Added a chapter to Take Me to the River. Riverton searches for his enemy's next target.

October 20, 2011- Added to the Color of Justice. Carlos Caltone works on his machinery.

October 18, 2011- Added chapter to Rangers' Monster Invasion. The three principals meet up and get deal with Cord's case before heading out to look at the cows.

October 12, 2011- Imaginary Enemies has Mack Foster looking for the paw thief at his old stomping grounds.

October 11, 2011- The next chapter of Chasing Chase reveals that Cindy Taggert still wants our hero dead.

October 10, 2011- The new chapter of the Abominable Amulet reveals where the amulet came from and how it was moved to someone who didn't know how to use it.

October 5, 2011- Added another chapter to Take Me to the River. A discussion leads to a plan.

September 23, 2011- Added a chapter to Take Me to the River. Riverton has a dream and when he awakes he decides to check on Big Cal.

September 21, 2011- Added The Town to the Wreckers section. The Wreckers are faced with losing the whole town during another invasion.

September 17, 2011- Added The Color of Justice to the rotation.

September 14, 2011- Added The Rangers' Monster Invasion to the rotation.

September 13, 2011- Added Chasing Chase to the rotation.

September 11, 2011- Added Imaginary Enemies, and the Abominable Amulet to the rotation.

September 5, 2011- Added Chasing a Beast to Contents page.

August 29, 2011- Chapter ten of Take Me to the River is done.

August 24, 2011- Epilogue to Seeing Red is done.

August 23, 2011- Added Chapter 11 to Seeing Red.

August 23, 2011- Added Chapter 10 to Seeing Red.

August 8, 2011- Added another chapter to Seeing Red.

August 8, 2011- Added another chapter to Take Me to the River.

August 1, 2011- Seeing Red has a chapter eight.

July 30, 2011- Take Me to the River has a chapter eight.

July 29, 2011- Uploaded the Epilogue for Roland.

July 27, 2011- Added the next chapter to Roland.

July 26, 2011- Added Halloween to the contents page.

July 25, 2011- Added another chapter to Roland.

July 20, 2011- Added another chapter to Seeing Red.

July 18, 2011- Added Chapter 7 to Take Me to the River

July 17, 2011- Added link to Bob's Walk on Contents page to Createspace.com's E-store.

July 14, 2011- Chapter 7 of the Headless Thompson Gunner is up

July 11, 2011- Seeing Red has another chapter up.

July 7, 2011- Loaded The Knight of the Ring to the Contents page.

July 6, 2011- Take Me to the River has a chapter six now.

July 4, 2011- Clash of the Titans is done.

July 2, 2011- Chapter 6 of the Clash of the Titans is done.

June 29, 2011- Tremaine and the Lightning is done.

June 29, 2011- The end of The Magic Hat is done.

June 27, 2011- Chapter six of Tremaine and the Lightning is done.

June 24, 2011- Added another chapter to Roland.

June 16, 2011- Added chapter five to The Magic Hat.

June 11, 2011- Added a chapter to Seeing Red.

June 10, 2011- Loaded In the Company of Strangers to the contents page.

June 9, 2011- Fixed two bad links on the Book One Page.

June 8, 2011- Medea and Aggie finally meet in Clash of the Titans.

June 8, 2011- Take Me to the River has another chapter.

June 4, 2011- Added one chapter to Tremaine and the Lightning.

June 3, 2011- Added a chapter to Roland.

May 25, 2011- Added a chapter to The Magic Hat.

May 23, 2011- Added Sentinels of Magic to the contents page.

May 23, 2011- Added a chapter to Seeing Red.

May 20, 2011- Added a chapter to Clash of the Titans

May 19, 2011- Posted up for Tremaine and the Lightning and Take Me to the River.

May 17, 2011- The end of Cleaner Magic is done.

May 14, 2011- Chapter 4 of Roland is up.

May 12, 2011- Another part of The Magic Hat is up

May 10, 2011- A new chapter of Cleaner Magic is up.

May 9, 2011- Added The Lost to the table of contents

May 6, 2011- Added another chapter of Seeing Red

May 5, 2011- Added to Take Me to the River and Clash of the Titans

May 3, 2011- Added another chapter to Tremaine and the Lightning.

April 30, 2011- A new chapter of Roland is up.

April 27, 2011- Added another chapter to The Magic Hat.

April 26, 2011- Second chapter of Cleaner Magic is up.

April 25, 2011- The second chapter of Seeing Red is up.

April 16, 2011- Added Fire Versus Ice to the Contents page.

April 16, 2011- Chapter two of Tremaine and the Lightning and Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner is up

April 4, 2011- Started Tremaine and the Lightning

April 4, 2011- Started The Magic Hat for the Hero Museum

April 4, 2011- Started Clash of the Titans

April 4, 2011- Started Take Me to the River

April 4, 2011- Started Cleaner Magic for Counterparts.

April 4, 2011- Started Seeing Red

April 4, 2011- Started Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner

March 25, 2011- Moved the Hero Museum to its own listing.

March 25, 2011- Moved Book One to its own page.

March 25, 2011- Proof of Bob's Walk came. I have to edit it and resubmit.

March 17, 2011-Loaded the epilogue for Jack Dragon's Counterpart.

March 12, 2011- Chapter seven of Jack Dragon's Counterpart is done.

February 18, 2011- Chapter six of Jack Dragon's Counterpart is done.

February 14, 2011- Loaded Leaguer Reunion to Contents page.

February 12, 2011- A new chapter of Jack Dragon's Counterpart is up

February 5, 2011- The end of Chasing the Monkey is up.

February 5, 2011- Chapter four of Jack Dragon's Counterpart is up

February 2, 2011- Loaded Starship Leaguer to the Contents page.

January 31, 2011- The third chapter for Chasing the Monkey is up.

January 31, 2011- The second and third chapters of Jack Dragon's Counterpart is up.

January 26, 2011- Second chapter of Chasing the Monkey is up

January 26, 2011- Finished Music in the Desert.

January 24, 2011- Added the two stories with the Counterparts.

January 23, 2011- Posted more of Music in the Desert here.

January 21, 2011- Started but did not post Music in the Desert before now.

January 21, 2011- Finished Duncan's Engine.

January 17, 2011- Started Chasing the Monkey

January 15, 2011- Started Jack Dragon's Counterpart.

January 12, 2011- Finished Stoplight's Bird.

January 10, 2011- Trying a new updating system for stories. The latest update for Duncan's Engine is at this page.

January 8, 2011- loaded all the Magistracy stories starting with Silver's Magistracy, all the Donovan stories starting with The House on the Corner, the two Wrecker Stories starting with The Will.

January 8, 2011- The epilogue of Liquid Metal History Lesson is done.

Moser and Pack filed all the paperwork from the case while watching things move through the courts. Things went quicker than they thought as soon as it was confirmed that their present Rockwell was the same Rockwell Hue Man had tried to capture. Being a wanted fugitive had put him on everyone's radar when he was captured.



His outstanding warrants had been kept in storage since no body had ever been found. When he reappeared, they had been renewed and readied for service.



No one had believed he had been killed in the vanishing act he had performed apparently.



They expected to be called to the stand at one point. They gathered the kids and set them down in front of Perry Mason, Matlock, and Law and Order so they would know what court could be like. Then they took them to the courthouse to watch an actual trial so they could see what happened if they were called to the stand.



A good defense lawyer would call them to the stand and impugn them for being emotional machines. Pack was sure of that. That's what he would do.



Making the boy robots look bad was the easiest route to victory Pack could foresee.



Halfway through the opening statements, the defense asked for a meeting with the prosecution. Pack and Moser wondered what was going on. A plea of guilt was entered and the jury was dismissed.



Rockwell would be sentenced in a private hearing in a few days.



"So we don't have to testify?" Red pulled his tie off. "This was a waste of time."



"It's coolsville." Whitey smiled. "This was a meeting of squares."



"I would have loved to take part in the legal system." Blue stuck his tongue out at his brothers.



"Suck up." Red glared at his azure sibling.



"How do you feel about it, Green?" Moser hoped that would stymie any looming argument.



"We did what we were supposed to do, bub." Green's eyes seemed to be following cracks in the courthouse floor. "Now we can let others do the rest of the heavy lifting."



"Sounds reasonable to me." Pack nodded at the guards. He ushered the kids out in the bright sunlight.



"Besides Rockwell has already planned how to escape the prison and start over." Green turned and headed for the parking deck where the van was parked.



"What makes you say that, Green?" Moser saw that the rest of the boys and Pack were as amazed as he was at the statement.



"Why else would he change his mind and strike a bargain unless he had researched the prison where he was going and figured a way to escape?" Green paused to watch traffic with his usual intentness.



"Shouldn't we warn the authorities?" Moser looked at Pack. The engineering student shrugged.



"Nothing they can do about it." Green headed to the deck. "Rockwell planned the deal to his wants."



"How do you know this, slowpoke." Red started pulling off his court suit as soon as they reached the van.



"It's what I would do, bub." Green got in the back where he could look out the back window.



"That's kind of scary." Pack shook his head. He ushered the other kids into the van.



"You see what we have to put up with every day?" Red got in his spot, folding his clothes up and holding them on his lap.



"We should put Green in charge of field operations." Moser got in the shotgun seat. "He's a tactical genius."



"I have to agree there." Pack got behind the wheel.



"Tactical genius?" Red glared at the two of them.



"Stable too." Pack started the engine. He backed out of the parking slot and headed for the exit.



"Stable." Red sounded even louder.



"Quiet too." Blue smiled as he twisted the knife.



"And he doesn't blow himself up breaking into the bad guy's villa." Whitey put his hands behind his head as he took on a sleeping posture.



"You guys are a riot." Red glared out the window on his side of the van.



"We should tell the district attorney that we think Rockwell can escape from his cell." Moser loosened his own tie.



"I'll give him a call." Pack nodded. "The number's in the rolodex. Maybe we can arrange for a transfer to some other jail."



"What are we going to do for the rest of the day?" Red glared at his adoptive fathers. He had wanted to get on the stand and tell the world Rockwell had tried to blow him up and failed. Not testifying had made a mess of his day as far as he was concerned.



"I thought we could tour the museum of fine art." Moser pulled out a brochure from the glove box.



"I thought about fishing myself." Pack checked his watch. "We can sit around on Lake Michigan and just relax."



"Snoresville." Whitey waved away the suggestions. "Let's hit the amusement park and ride some rides."



"Let's shoot some hoops." Red made a basketball shooting motion with his hands.



"We can watch a game at the park." Blue did a wave with his arms. "I want a baseball."



Pack and Moser looked at each other. One of their boys had said nothing.



"What do you want to do, Green?" Charlie looked down the middle of the van to the back.



Green didn't turn to face the front. His eyes were on the traffic on either side of the van as it cruised through the city. They all knew he thought faster than what he was doing now.



"I would like to go to the zoo." Green kept looking out the window. "I don't mind tagging along to what the others want to do."



"Let's go to the zoo." Blue chimed in. "We can watch the game on television later."



"Are you crazy?" Red turned to face Blue. "Who wants to look at some smelly animals?"



"I do." Blue smiled. "That's two to one right there."



"You're doing this to spite me." Red settled in a pout.



"Sure am." Blue smiled even wider.



"Let's see these animals." Whitey broke in before the disagreement could get violent. He didn't want to get caught in the middle.



"To the tigers, old chum." Moser laughed.



Everyone looked at him with some amazement, except Green. The emerald robot kept his gaze out the window and a stolid expression on his face. He almost smiled.



"Don't ever say anything like that again." Pack shook his head.



"Too much?" Moser kept his deadpan forward.



"Orbital." Red held his hands up over his head.



"Grotesquely." Blue shook his head.



"Over the top, daddy-o." Whitey crossed his arms.



"Elephantine proportions, bub." Green didn't turn to face the front with his pronouncement.



"I'll try to tone it down." Charlie smiled as he looked out the window.



"I hope so." Pack slowed in the traffic. "I'll have to get a new best friend if you don't."



The scanner buzzed a report of a robbery. The partners looked at each other. Should they send the kids after it? The city did pay them to protect its citizens, but only in extraordinary circumstances.



"All right." Red pulled open his door. "Time to kick someone's butt."



He jumped out in the street and took to the air on a roaring rocket trail.



"Close the door, Blue." Moser shook his head. "We have to talk to him about his impulse control."



"What impulse control?" Pack checked the lanes before pulling onto the shoulder of the road. "He'll need backup, Whitey."



"On it, daddy-o." The white robot bailed from his side of the van. He took off at the head of a vortex of air.



"Hopefully Red won't set anyone on fire." Moser listened to the scanner to get an idea of what the police were doing.



"You don't ask for much." Pack pulled back out in traffic. "Let's see if we can catch up at least."



"Hopefully he won't leave a trail of destruction is a lot to ask for in my opinion." Moser hit the switch on the dashboard. Emergency lights and a siren cut on.



The city gave them the right to cut through intersections when necessary. It was deemed acceptable for transport of essential personnel to the scene of an emergency. They were only supposed to use it on a job, and not to impress their girlfriends, and family.



Cars pulled out of the way as the van roared toward the chase.



"We'll head to the zoo after we bag these guys." Moser pulled out his paperwork clipboard for the after action report he was going to have to file.



January 7, 2011- Music in the Desert chapter one is up

He rode down the two lane road, wind blowing in his face, listening to things only he could hear. There should be a town up ahead. He would stop there to get something to eat, and gas for his bike.



Maybe the song in his head would have meaning there.



He had been on the road for as long as he could remember. He had learned to play the guitar from his father, who had learned from his father. Often his travels gave him new songs to add to his repertoire.



He smiled when he saw the town ahead. Then he frowned. Shouldn't it be bigger?



He passed a man walking on the side of the road. A scarf and hat obscured his features in shadow. The walker held up one gloved hand as the motorcycle rolled by.



The rider looked back. There was nothing there but sand and scrub. Where had the man gone to vanish in such flat country? He frowned, but kept rolling. Sitting down to a meal meant more than investigating a phantom.



He had a feeling he would be seeing that ghost again. The wave suggested that. The man had acted as if he knew the musician.



He pulled his bike into a lot of a small diner, parking next to the door. He placed his helmet on the handlebars and headed into the restaurant. His guitar case hung over his shoulder as it always did unless he was playing it.



The sign next to the door said 'seat yourself' so he picked a table near a window so he could keep an eye on his bike and watch the desert.



There was something out there. He could hear the song in his mind telling him that much. What could it be?



The waitress walked up to the table. Her smile seemed a little tired. He was the only customer. Maybe she was having problems outside of work.



"What can I do for you?" She held her pad and pen in front of her as she waited for him to order.



"A cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake." He didn't bother looking at the menu. Most places like this had some combination just like what he ordered.



"It'll be up in a minute." The waitress pulled the order off the pad. "I'll get your shake right now."



"Thank you." The rider smiled through the road dust on his bronze skin. He pulled his gloves off and placed them on the table. He had set his case in the other seat opposite of him to keep an eye on it.



The waitress returned in a few minutes with the shake. She put it on the table in front of him and placed a straw beside it. She raised an eyebrow at the case sitting up like a person in the other seat.



"It's a guitar." He smiled. He pulled the paper off the straw and stuck the tube in the milkshake. He smiled at the chill after all the hours in the sun on the bike. "I play a little."



"Are you any good?" She smiled. "I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry."



"It's not a problem." The rider got out of his seat. He placed the case on the table and opened it. He pulled out a black guitar with gold leaves around the edges. He pulled the strap over his head so it could hang down in front of him.



He strummed the gleaming strings and crystal clear notes rolled out.



"Give me a second." The rider played some random notes to tune the guitar. He adjusted the knobs on the neck until the sound was exactly right.



Then he played a song taught him by his father. The music washed over the dining room in liquid movements as his fingers danced on the strings. The waitress smiled at the sound washed over her, relieving her cares for a moment.



"That was great." The waitress stood on tiptoe. "Thank you for that."



"It's no problem." The guitarist placed the guitar back in its case. "I like playing whenever I can."



"Order up." The cook rang the little bell even though there was no one else in the diner.



"I'll be right back." She hurried to the dividing counter. She placed the food on a tray and brought it back. She placed the food on the table in front of her customer. "Here you go."



"Thank you." He started digging in. It had been a while since he had eaten other people's cooking.



"Would you like anything else?" The waitress stood at his table.



"I seem to remember the town was bigger the last time I came through." He paused his eating to switch seats. He gestured for her to sit down in his vacant spot. He didn't trust anyone to sit next to his guitar.



"We lost some of the local businesses." The waitress sat down. "The town has been drying up ever since."



"Wasn't there a music museum around here?" The guitarist frowned as he started eating again.



"It closed a couple of years ago." The waitress shrugged as she put her forearms on the table. "It was the first to go."



"I hate to hear that." The musician looked out the window.



"The building is still there if you want to visit it before you leave town." The waitress pointed out the window on the other side of the dining room. "It's the next left at the crossroads."



"Thank you." He smiled. "Is Stumpy's still open?"



"Yep." The waitress smiled. "It's the only place to get gas for miles. The town will blow away before he does."



"I hope your fortunes turn." He finished eating, sipping on the shake.



"I hope so too." The waitress stood. "The diner will go out of business if we don't get more customers."



"The food should be packing them in." The guitarist handed her a twenty, and held up his hand to keep her from handing back change. "I wish you a good life."



"Thank you." The waitress put the twenty away. "I appreciate that."



"Vaya con Dios." He pulled his case on his back as he walked back out in the heat of the desert sun. He pulled on his helmet after getting on the bike.



He started the engine and pulled out of the lot. He decided to talk to Stumpy. Maybe there was something he could do to help the people.



The song in his head said something wrong was in the air. If he fixed that, maybe the town would prosper again. Music was known to fix things where other things failed.



Maybe Stumpy had an idea of where the curse had started.



And he had learned a thing about ending them from his father.



He turned to cruise past the music museum. Plywood and boards covered the windows and doors. The property had a for sale sign out front. A giant guitar made of bronze stood out in front of the place on a pedestal.



He turned in the middle of the road and rode back to the main drag. He turned left and headed to Stumpy's.



He rolled up to an old fashioned pump. Signs covered the windows for everything imaginable for sale. A junkyard sat behind the gas station.



It looked the same as it had the last time he had come through. The only way this place was going to change was if someone killed Stumpy and made the changes themselves.



He got off his bike, taking off his helmet. He put it on the bike as he walked inside the gas station. The old man had added an air-conditioner so the ceiling fans could circulate cool air around the shelves.



"El Mariachi!" Stumpy limped, half hopped down an aisle to see who made the bell on the door ring. "How's things down in Mexico?"



"Fair." The guitarist smiled. "How's things for you here, Stumpy?"



"Sucking." The old man lost his smile. "It's like a curse has been put on the town."



"I noticed the museum had closed." The musician indicated the direction with a thumb. "Who owns it now?"



"I don't know." Stumpy rubbed his chin. "Grass died a couple of years ago. He didn't have any kin as far as I know."



"Could you call the real estate company and ask for me?" El Mariachi smiled. "I might want to reopen it."



"Sure." Stumpy reached for the phone book. "It's Eli Cortez's company. He's the only one making money now."



"I have to go up to a music festival in Oklahoma." The musician pulled out a twenty and handed it over. "I should be back through in a couple of days. Tell him I'd like to talk to him in person on Friday about the museum."



"I can do that." The old man hopped to the phone. "Are you really going to buy the place?"



"I don't see why not." He smiled. "Bluegrass Hanes was a friend of the family. I don't see why his place should die just because he did."



"A noble sentiment." The voice drifted from the back of the general store. It made Stumpy reach for the pistol he kept under his register. "I doubt it will be as easy as you think."



The man in the scarf stepped out from behind the end of the shelf. He nodded at the both of them.



"Who are you?" Stumpy took his hand from the gun. He had a feeling he was dealing with someone that didn't care about bullets.



"I'm just a wayfarer walking my own path." The man in the scarf smiled. Shadow from his hat hid his face. "The museum won't stay open no matter what you do. That's where your curse is."



"Then I will open the place back up and see if I can break the curse."



January 7, 2011- Liquid Metal History Lesson 17 is done

Green led the way with his sure steps. He had his eyes on something ahead of them. He didn't veer from his path.



Blue wondered if he had quietly snapped his programming.



"I'm losing him, bub." Green shook his head. "There are too many footsteps starting to mix in. We need height."



Blue stretched an arm to grab the cornice of a building. He pulled himself up with a simple retraction of his arm. He did this until he stood on the roof. He started down the same path they had been following, jumping across alleys and streets.



He spotted the fleeing man headed for the local train tracks. That made sense. The doctor didn't have transportation, didn't have any money. He needed public transportation to make his getaway.



Blue followed at a distance, calling back a direction. He didn't want his brothers showing up to spoil things. Green called back from a spot running parallel to the pursuit. Whitey and Red were still at the storage lockers.



Red probably was still stuck in the corridor thanks to his absorbing all that heat from the trap.



He turned his attention back to the chase. Rockwell could still have some of that stuff on him. That would mess up any bystander he happened to grab. They needed to cut him off from the train if they could.



A hostage situation was bad in his opinion.



"We're going to try and cut him off on the stairs." Blue made several jumps to get to the edge of train station. "I need you to catch him from behind, Green."



"Coming, bub." Green crossed through a café, running out the back to get to the street. "I see him."



"We're going to try and stop him from grabbing any of the people on the stairs with him." Blue jumped to the train station.



"I'm headed for the stairs, bub." Green tried to use things around him as cover as he closed on Rockwell's back. He moved with a speed that belied his slow personality.



"I'm cutting him off right now." Blue dropped down on the stairs. He landed lightly. The pedestrians scattered to get out of his way.



Rockwell reached under his coat at the sudden appearance. Blue jumped to grab him before he could use his liquid fire. The tube fell on the metal stairs and exploded.



The stairs developed a hole as molten metal rained down on the street. The bottom came free from the top under the weight. Those on the top half of the staircase scrambled to get to the stable ground of the platform.



Green grabbed the railings to prevent the bottom half from crashing down since part of the supports had been eaten away by the liquid fire.



"Let's go, bubs." He called. "I can't hold this thing all night."



"You should have given up when you could." Blue sprayed water on Rockwell and the metal to neutralize the chemical concoction.



"My legs!" The mad scientist writhed in pain. "What have you done to my legs?"



Blue examined the appendages. He shook his head. The liquid fire had eaten a hole in the scientist's legs. Some of it must have splashed when the tube broke.



"Sit down and I'll do what I can for it." Blue looked at his brother holding up the stairs. Green nodded. He could do that all night.



The boy robot ripped the sleeves off Rockwell's coat. He wrapped them around the wounds and then he pinned them in place with fasteners improvised from paper clips the mad scientist had in his pockets.



"That should do you until the medics arrive." Blue used a piece of railing as handcuffs to hold the man's arms behind his back. "They're on the way."



"You stopped me from proving that time travel will work." Rockwell glared at his captor.



"We stopped you from possibly blowing a hole in reality and killing the universe." Blue grabbed him and lifted him over his shoulder. "I prefer to look at it that way."



"I like this reality, bub." Green let the last person off the stairs. "It's where I live."



"And do you really think time travel is all that great?" Blue carried his prisoner off the truncated steps.



"You guys got him." Whitey dropped down from the sky. "I didn't get a piece of the action."



"We saved the universe." Blue shook his head. "That's what really matters."



"Dullsville." Whitey shook his head.



"It's where you keep your video games, bub." Green settled in to wait for the police. A call over the police band should bring them running.



"Coolsville." Green and Blue looked at each other. They decided to let it slide.



Red arrived a minute later. He glowed red hot as he landed. He paused when he saw the bad guy wrapped up in manacles.



"You guys left me." The robot paused at the pain on their enemy's face. "What's wrong with him?"



"He dropped his stuff on his legs." Blue made sure to stand between his brother and the villain. Red wasn't known for his good temper.



"Burns, doesn't it?" The boy robot loomed over Rockwell. "You tried to blow me up with that stuff. How does it feel, butt head?"



"Do you mind?" Rockwell gritted his teeth. "I can do without the speeches."



Sirens interrupted their talk. Police cars rolled up first. The officers got out and took in the scene with a few looks. They frowned at the injured Rockwell on the ground.



"He dropped some heavy duty acid." Blue pointed to the stairs. "Some of it splashed his legs."



"So this is the Arson Robber?" One of the cops tilted his hat back. "He doesn't look all that bright."



"He's set fire to a bunch of buildings." Blue shook his head. "He doesn't have to be bright."



"We'll take him into custody." The cop checked Rockwell's legs. "We'll have to take him to the hospital first. Better tell them to get a bed ready in the prison ward."



The other cop spoke into the radio hooked to his shoulder.



"An ambulance and some detectives are on the way." He reported. "The Feds will be screaming for this guy too."



"It's nice to be considered valuable." Rockwell smiled.



"We'll be glad to get you off our hands." Red glared at the doctor. "I hope you like jail."



"I doubt there's enough proof of anything for me to go to jail." The doctor smiled. "I was attacked by defective machinery."



"I'll show you defective." Red caught fire in his anger.



"Cool it, Red." Blue stood ready to hose his brother down. "He's trying to provoke you so he doesn't have to go to jail. It's the oldest trick in the book."



Red let his fire dissipate, returning to his normal color. He nodded. Why make it easy for the defense?



Rockwell grimaced at the failure of his ploy.



The ambulance arrived minutes later as the group waited in silence. Pack and Moser showed up next, checking on their boys. Then detectives and agents from the government showed up. The wrangling started after that.



After some arguing, and some phone calls, it was agreed the city would try Rockwell for the arsons. The Feds could have him for the bank robberies. A check would be put in the mail for Moser and Pack. Everyone would be happy.



The Feds would take apart the machine Rockwell had built as soon as his trial was over. It would be placed in storage like any other confiscated weapon. The threat that it might pose would be determined by people who knew better to fire it to make sure it worked as advertised.



Super weapon assessment was a dangerous job but someone had to do it.



Pack handed over a copy of the theft tape from the electronics warehouse, and what documentation they had to show that Rockwell had committed the crimes in question. He signed for the transfer and wished them the best of luck on their prosecution.



They loaded up in the van and headed for home base.



January 5, 2011- Stoplight's Bird 10 is done.

Paul waited on the top of the crate. The men pulled the tops off the crates of weapons. The noise of ammo being loaded in magazines and the magazines being loaded into submachine guns filled the air.



The police must be on the scene.



How long did he have before they reached the crate he had boobytrapped. He had to get out of the hold if they opened that crate and disturbed the grenade inside of it.



He kept himself motionless. He didn't want to be trapped in the ship with armed men all around where he was. His power gave him an advantage, but not certain victory.



A bullet in the back of the head would drop him just like anyone else.



That's why he planned to keep his enemies in front of him.



The men ran from the hold when they had weapons ready to go. He waited for the footsteps to fade before he climbed down from his perch. He went to the door. He listened for late arrivals before he risked a peek out in the hall.



It looked clear. He listened. No one walked the corridor.



He headed for the stairs toward the rear of the boat. That would take him to the raised tower. He kept an eye out for anyone seeing him before he saw them.



They were on a war alert. He could expect fireworks if he was spotted sneaking around.



Paul climbed the stairs, wondering what the signs meant. He didn't recognize the language. He admitted that wasn't hard. He knew some pigeon Spanish, but that was all.



Maybe he should check out Rosetta Stone to improve his skills.



He found an outside door. He peeked through the window. The lights of police vehicles flashed their blue across the ship. The men rushed to the rails with their weapons.



Did they plan to take on the whole police department? What were they thinking?



He noticed chains were being retracted by winches at the front of the ship. Some of the men were cutting ropes. They were going to run for it.



He couldn't let them do that. Once he was discovered, he would have to fight them all. He didn't want to be forced into killing a bunch of guys just to get off a boat.



He should talk to the captain about this.



Paul worked his way up to the bridge. The whole crew seemed to be on the deck with guns on the police. If he could stop the ship from moving, maybe he could help the police round up the crew.



If he kept the ship in place, it could lead to a massacre.



He walked in the bridge area. Three men were watching the scene below. Another man had a hand on the big wheel on a post, and the other on a stick next to the wheel.



"Is this the way to Cutter Bay?" Paul made sure to have a revolver ready before he said anything. His experience with this group of men showed him they were more than willing to pull a gun and shoot first before asking questions.



The men turned with hands on weapons. The captain ducked beside the wheel. Apparently he knew he could get shot from both sides and didn't have a weapon to add to the firefight. The lever was still on FULL STOP.



Paul slowed down the motion so he could take his time. It would be easier to kill these men, but he didn't want to do that. He had to worry about charges for an assault on foreign soil. That could quickly escalate to murder charges if he wasn't careful.



Three bullets exploded out of his revolver, covered in green light shining through the yellow he saw. The rounds punched holes in their gun hands like a television cowboy trick shooting for a crowd. The weapons fell to the floor.



"I think we need to talk." Paul waved the men away from the window. "I think you need to get up and join your friends, Captain."



"There are four of us." One of the men sneered at the detective. "You only have three shots left. Which will you kill when we rush you?"



"I have another six shots right here." Powell drew his other revolver. "Now let's have a friendly chat without the histrionics."



"Speak." The spokesman clutched his wounded hand with the uninjured hand.



Paul noted that the other men had the same stoniness to injuries. Perhaps they had been shot before.



"I have the bird you killed Smith to get." The detective moved away from the wide windows, taking refuge in a corner where he could see both doors, but still have some cover. "I'm going to hold on to it. I want you to surrender to the police, and plead guilty to whatever charges come up."



"What if I say no?" The spokesman took a step to the left.



"Then I'll have to shoot you, and ask the next man in line." Paul shook his head. "Killing me won't get you the bird since only I know where it is."



"I don't believe you." The spokesman took another step to the left. His companions spread to the right.



Paul shot the two men to the right in the legs. He shook his head.



"No one had to get hurt." The detective didn't get close to patch the wounded. "Since you don't want to listen to reason, I'll have to hurt all of your men to call them off. I hope you're happy."



"I have a job to do also." The spokesmen glared at Powell. "No one is going to stop me from doing it."



"You're stopped." Paul shook his head again. "The only question is how many you want to take with you on the way to jail."



Paul shot him in the leg too. He didn't have time to take prisoners. If he hurried, the police would be able to rush them to the hospital.



"Do you have a loudspeaker?" Paul pointed the full revolver at the captain.



"It's right there." The captain pointed to a microphone hanging by the control panel.



"Testing." Paul glanced out the windows. The men on deck looked up at the bridge. "Your leaders have been shot. Stand down and prepare to be boarded by the police department. Throw down your weapons and prepare to be boarded."



The men opened fire on the bridge. Paul stepped back in his corner as bullets blasted the glass out of the way. They were really good shots.



"We will never give up." The spokesman worked on his leg while he sat on the floor.



"Maybe you should." Paul walked over and picked up the weapons the men had dropped. "It will keep you alive a lot longer."



The detective looked over the dashboard of the ship. He didn't know anything about it. None of the labels made sense to him.



"How do I turn off the engines?" He pointed one of the captured pistols at the captain.



"You push down the three switches on the left, then turn the dial next to them down to zero." The captain indicated the right switches with a shaking hand.



Paul followed the directions as glass fell inside the bridge area. Some of the men had decided to come up and deal with him. He shot the instrument panel to make sure no one could turn the engines back on from the bridge.



Three bullets remained in his revolver.



He was glad that he had picked up the spares from the cargo hold now. He didn't have time to reload now that everything was in the fire.



"If I were you, Captain, I would take cover and wait until the shooting is over to come out." Paul opened the door to the bridge.



"You won't stop us from achieving our goals." The spokesmen tried to stand, but his leg collapsed.



"You have already been stopped." The detective headed down the stairs. "All that's left is stopping the rest of your gang."



Paul reloaded both revolvers as he descended to the top deck. He dropped the empties on the stairs. He could jump ship and no one could stop him. He decided that he might as well handle this last piece of business for the police.



It still left him with one really big loose end since he didn't know why the crew wanted the bird. He would have to try to figure that out later after he stopped the shooting.



January 2, 2011- Liquid Metal History Lesson 17 is done.

Blue made sure his radio worked before he started his infiltration. He didn't want to get caught out on his own if things went bad. His brothers would break in the place with one word.



He hoped they would break in to rescue him.



He looked at them. Maybe he was better off not getting in trouble in the first place.



He stretched his arm through the fence and pulled himself through to the other side. He flattened himself out so that he was laid out on the ground. He yanked himself forward to get close to the storage site.



He pulled himself together and looked around the corner. No one was in sight.



He headed down the hall. He avoided the cameras where possible. He didn't want to alert Rockwell to his presence.



He quietly listened to the lockers until he found one with unusual noise coming from it. He sent a message back to the others. Their guy was there, or had left his machine working while he was out stealing more parts.



Blue needed to get a look. There might be more than one guy wandering the place with electrical chirping going on.



He sent the locker number back in case he was spotted. He didn't want them to have to search for him if things went bad.



Blue flattened out a hand. He sent it under the door, pouring under it like his native element. He shifted his eyesight to see through the hand. He nodded at what he saw.



They had been right.



He drew his hand back. He had seen enough. The man had his machinery running at full blast. He had to be stopped before he decided to fire the thing.



"We have to get in there." Blue walked down from the storage locker so he wouldn't be heard. "He's working on something in there from the looks of it."



"We're coming in, Blue." Moser sounded worried over the radio. That wasn't a good sign. "Keep your eyes peeled in case he spots us."



"No worries about that." Blue flattened against the wall while making sure he could see the door to the locker. He didn't want any more fires to break out if the guy escaped.



Red and Whitey showed first. That wasn't a surprise. They were able to fly and moved faster than their adopted fathers, or Green. the turtle.



"We break in and zap him." Red had a hairdo of fire.



"Coolsville." Whitey held moving air in the palm of his hand.



"We're not waiting for the Dads?" Blue looked down the hall.



"The guy is a homicidal maniac." Red shook his head. "Let's go."



He went to the door of the storage locker and yanked it up. He wanted to deal with their enemy before he did something else crazy.



An explosion of flame followed as soon as Red pulled the door open far enough. He drank the blast in, expanding like a balloon to block the hall.



"Fudge!" Red waved his little arms from the middle of his beach ball body.



"I told you." Blue squeezed pass his brother and formed up to his normal body inside the lab.



"That is not coolsville, bro." Whitey blasted his brother out of the way with a tornado.



"I'll get you for that, Whitey." Red tried to straighten himself out with his stubby arms and legs. He needed bigger hands if he wanted to get back on his feet.



He should have seen the trap before he opened the door. He growled as he tried to roll to get his feet and hands under his rotund body.



"Fudge!" He changed front to back in a second. He forced the captured flame into his limbs. That shrank his body into something more manageable while enlarging arms and legs so he could get around.



Blue and Whitey pointed fingers as they rushed the lab. They didn't see anyone other than themselves. Where had the brains gone?



"Over there." Blue pointed to a monitor. It showed the hall outside in perfect detail. "He saw me."



"Where did he go?" Whitey turned again. He paused at a section of the wall that seemed odd compared to the rest of the room. He fired a tornado at it. The section of the wall fell over.



"He cut his way out of his lab and took off." The kid robots investigated the other storage locker. The door was open a crack.



"What's our next move?" Blue went to the door and stuck his hand underneath. No one stood out in the hall waiting to douse them with burning oil.



"We find this guy while he's still on the move." Whitey opened the door all the way. "If we keep after him, we can get him before he sets up shop somewhere else."



"We should have got him this time." Blue shook his head. "We blew it. You go that way. I'll go this way. Maybe we can catch him on the lot."



"Right." Whitey summoned a tornado to carry him to the end of the hall. He turned and headed for the nearest exit.



Blue ran to the other hall and headed for the exit on that side. Maybe they could catch their slippery enemy while he was trying to get away from the lot. He certainly wasn't going to double back to where Red was in his fat glory.



At least Red was blocking that escape route so Rockwell couldn't get behind them.



Where were Green and their dads? Extra eyes were what they needed if they wanted to keep up with Rockwell.



"Whitey." Moser's voice cut through their radio link. "We need someone in the air."



"I'm there, daddy-o." The air rider shot up in the sky with his typical wind bursts. He didn't see anything moving. Where had Rockwell gone?



Blue paused at his exit. He thought there should be something heading for the fence on this side of the place. He didn't see anything. Where would he go if he was under attack? He would head into the drains because of his malleability.



He doubted Rockwell had the same options.



He still might have gone underground if had some way into the tunnels under the city. His liquid fire was an instant cutter.



All he had to do was cut his way into the floor from that second room. Covering the hole might only take seconds if he had it ready. As soon as he saw he had company, he could turn on the door trap, cross to the other room, close it up, pull away his cover and drop down in whatever tunnel he had ready.



That made more sense than he vanished while Red and Whitey were coming up to break into the place.



Was he being too paranoid? Was there such a thing? He had to check that other room. He wanted to make sure. Rockwell had already shown he could do things they hadn't expected. A prepared escape route wasn't impossible.



Blue went back to the second locker and looked around. He nodded at Green walking in from the other unit.



"Whitey doesn't see anything suspicious from the air, bub," Green took a moment to slowly look around the unit from the hole in the wall.



"Let me take a closer look at this place, Green." Blue stretched himself out to cover every surface. He shifted his sight along the surface of his body. He pulled himself together by a box over a set of cracks in the concrete floor.



"There's a section of the floor that looks glued together right there." Blue pointed at the box.



"Let's take a closer look, bub." Green slid the box out of the way. He inspected the floor. He punched it. The concrete broke away in a near perfect circle.



"It looks like you're right." The emerald robot dropped down in the hole.



"Wait for me, Green." Blue dropped down into the dark with his brother.



The metal kids looked in both directions. They listened. A human in the dark would make noise moving around.



Green pointed down the tunnel. He started walking as quietly as he could toward the sounds he heard.



Blue followed with a frown. Green usually sat like a lump. Now he was leading the chase. How did that happen?



The two kids paused at light drifting down from the ceiling ahead. They didn't see their quarry. Where had he gone?



Green listened. He swiveled his head as he cast about. He pointed upwards.



Blue stretched his arms up to grab a manhole cover. The light was coming in from the holes in the cover. He pushed it aside so he could pull himself out of the tunnel.



He looked around. Their foe seemed to have vanished again. They had blown it.



Green climbed out of the tunnel. He silently looked around. Then he started walking.



Blue raised his hand to point in the direction of the storage lockers. He stopped. Green had seen something he hadn't. Maybe he should follow along in case there was some kind of trouble.

January 2, 2011- Stoplight's Bird chapter 9 is done.

Paul covered his face with his collar. He wanted to cover his face completely, but didn't have anything he could use as a mask. He put that on his to do list if he lived.



He stood at the stern of the ship. He took a few steps back. Then he charged and jumped. As soon as he hit the metal of the keel, he stopped motion on his body. He climbed the boat in a careful jog until he got to the rail. He climbed over it and settled on the deck.



Where could he go from here? He needed to find the boss of the outfit. That guy had the answers to his problem.



He doubted he could give the bird to the man, or woman. He had seen it. And they didn't seem that big on letting witnesses live.



He didn't want to get involved in a firefight either. He needed something to put these guys away so when he called the police, there would be no mistake about what was going on.



Paul decided to check the cargo area before he tried crew quarters, or the bridge. He didn't know who was in charge. If they had stored weapons, he could do something about that. It might be enough for the police to do something about the ship.



It might be enough to get them off his back.



He used his power to slip by men wandering the corridors of the ship as he worked his way down. Stopping their motion long enough for him to get by was child's play. He stepped inside the cargo bay. He made sure the hatch was dogged tight before he started looking around.



He didn't want anyone asking him for his invitation while he was snooping around.



Paul looked around until he found a wrecking bar. He started at the first crate near the door. It was marked as a holder for shovels. He pried the top off. He shook his head. He had never seen shovels that needed magazines of bullets to use like the ones in that crate.



He worked his way down the row. There were a ton of firearms packed away for later use.



Why did they have all this firepower? What did it have to do with Smith, or his disc?



Paul tried to decide what to do. He didn't want to leave this stuff laying around. They had killed enough people.



He pulled out his phone. He checked it. He didn't have a signal.



He needed to head back to the top deck and make his phone call in the open. He needed backup to take the ship.



He didn't want to shoot every man onboard just to save his own skin.



If he had to do that, then so be it. He wasn't giving them a free shot at him either.



He wanted to live to go back to doing divorce work.



Paul made his way up to the top deck the same way he had entered the ship. He picked a place to hide while he made his phone call. He needed someone to know where his enemies were before he did something stupid, or was discovered and had to do something stupid.



He didn't have enough ammo to deal with all the people he saw walking around.



If he had to fight his way back to their cargo, he could hold them off with what was stored down there.



That would be ironic in his opinion.



He dialed Cole's number. His last call hadn't worked out the way he wanted. He needed to go with someone he knew.



"Yeah?" Cole sounded preoccupied. Maybe he had found out something about the case with the digging into the wounded men.



"This is Paul Powell." The detective kept an eye on the crew in case he needed to make fast exit. "I need to talk to you."



"I am at your building." Cole had snapped to alertness. "Where are you?"



"I am on a ship down on the docks." Paul gave him the name. "I followed one of the guys from the shooting."



"You saved my guys." Cole said something to someone nearby. "They reported that you shot up an ambush team like Wyatt Earp."



"I didn't want to, but I caught some of their guys watching my office." Powell checked his surroundings again. It was time to move to another hiding spot. "They have a cargo of weapons on this boat. If you come in, come heavy."



"I'm setting the wheels in motion." Cole gave some more directions to one side. "Where are you?"



"I'm on the boat." Paul spotted a man coming his way. "I have to go."



He closed his phone and put it up. He didn't want to be talking when he should be blasting.



The detective stopped motion and moved out of potential lines of sight. He let the man go by. He decided the safest place for him was with the cargo. No one was down there.



It could be the perfect place to hide while he waited for Cole to do something. And if things got bad, it gave him plenty to use if he was discovered by the crew.



He planned to hunker down and wait. Cole and the police could take the boat if they were careful. They didn't need him to save their bacon.



On the other hand, he needed to get some insurance in case the police department couldn't get on the boat in a timely manner.



He walked down the row of crates until he found one loaded with grenades. He placed that next to a stack of missile launchers. He pulled the pin on one of the grenades and carefully placed it with the spoon in place back in its holder.



It wasn't much of a trap, but if it went off, it could sink the ship. If things came to that, he knew he had been killed and the police assault had failed.



He checked his revolvers and the spare ammunition for them. He had enough to stop some of the men he had seen. He needed backup weapons if he wanted to make sure he didn't run out of bullets.



He grabbed a selection of pistols from their crates. He grabbed several magazines. He loaded the magazines with bullets, and then loaded each of the pistols. He unloaded the guns and checked to see if they would fire if he used them.



He didn't want to shoot at someone and find out the firing pins were not in place. That would be embarrassing and lethal in the middle of a gunfight.



Paul reassembled the weapons and settled in to wait for the police to arrive. As soon as that happened, he could go back to the simple cases he preferred. Being a vigilante didn't suit him.



He checked his watch. Where were Cole and the rest of the police department?



Paul counseled himself to have patience. It might take a while for Cole to move on the boat. There might be other agencies involved. He might not be able to get a warrant.



He might have to take on the whole boat alone. That was something he didn't want to do.



He checked his surroundings again. He was alone in the cargo hold. Everything looked like he had never touched it. The hatch was moving.



He walked down to the other end of the hold from the door. He climbed up on a stack of crates to get a better view. Men flooded into the compartment.



This couldn't be good.

January 2, 2011- The end of the first Tale From the Lonesome October is done.

Andy Axelmore danced away from the metal appendages. He fired his green flame from his mouth as he flew in a circle. He hated the monsters that came to Earth. Maybe he should leave the planet for somewhere else.



They all seemed to be looking for the thing in his head.



His enemy shrugged off melted metal skin from the blast as it struck out again. One of the tentacles blasted the Green Gazer into the roof of the nearby shopping center. He went through to the merchandise floor in a coat of emerald flame.



Andy picked himself up, letting the green flame rebuild the damage from the impacts. That had hurt. He looked up through the hole. He needed to get that thing away from people. Looking around showed him a lot of flat bodies from where it had attacked before he arrived.



That thing used people for food like a milk shake. If it got to a really populated area of town, he would be hard pressed to contain it.



The flame built up as he leaped into the air. He needed to get the thing in a place where no one was around. Then he could wear it out with some calculated maneuvers.



Andy gauged the mass of the thing as he flew at it. He would have to get big himself if he wanted to lift it out of the parking lot.



He expanded under the power of the green flame in his brain. He felt strength pour into his muscles as his power burned through his veins.



"That is a good trick." The black mass blinked hundreds of eyes in amazement. "I had not thought the green star would allow that."



"Time for you to go home." Andy opened his mouth. Green flame sliced out in a thunderous roar. The tentacles lashed around at the melting of its body.



He grabbed one of the tentacles and pulled on it as he headed straight up. If he could get it out of Citytown, he could cut loose and kill the thing in a second.



"Take this, human." Thousands of limbs wrapped around Andy. They began to squeeze against his aura. He concentrated against the pain of being crushed. He still had to get the thing out of the city.



They broke into space. The green flame pointed to the moon. That was Andy's favorite place to have battles against the alien marauders.



He needed to break the grip on him before he was crushed. He aimed for a crater on the dark side of the moon and headed in at full speed.



Maybe smashing into rock would open its grip. He doubted that the impact itself would do anything. The alien had already survived reentry to Earth without any means to fly.



Andy shrank to normal size when he was close enough to hitting the moon. He sped through a gap that had appeared as the tentacles tried to adjust to his new size. He flew clear and left a trail of green light behind him to mark his passing.



A cloud of dust sprang from where the metal mass of death smashed against the lunar surface. Ripples of shifting ground followed for a brief second. Then everything slowly returned to normal.



The thing started trying to pull itself together to plan how it was going to deal with its flying foe.



Andy blasted it with his dragon breath as he flew around it. The fire seemed to be the only thing that hurt it. He supposed the green fire in his skull burned brighter than crashing into the atmosphere.



Why hadn't it burned his brain out by now? He had been using the flame constantly for the last two years.



Maybe his brain had burned out without him noticing it.



Andy stopped blasting when he saw his enemy employing a new tactic. He tried to backpedal to escape. He went down, buried by ugly aliens.



"I'm going to rip you apart." The alien spoke through many mouths, vibrating radio waves. "Then I will return to the pastry bar and eat my fill."



"Eat this." A giant green fist slammed the many aliens into the air to float to a landing a distance away. "You messed with the wrong guy."



"You can't stop me." The aliens all raised spiked hands. "Defeat is inevitable."



"Is that what you think?" Andy focused his vision on his enemy. "You can never beat me. You don't have the manpower for it."



The alien split again and again until it was the size of a man. Each waved spiky limbs around to show they were ready to fight.



Andy smiled. He opened his mouth and swept his green flame across the crowd. Explosions rewarded his efforts.



He frowned as more of the aliens sprang up from the debris from the ones he had blown apart. The engines were weak points but the bodies had some way to heal up from devastating attacks.



It was doing the same thing he did when under attack.



How could he beat it?



He had to find some way to contain the thing and put it somewhere it couldn't harm anybody.



How could he do that? It was already showing itself immune to everything he had thrown at it. What could kill him? That's what he had to use against it.



He hadn't tried to fly into the sun. He wasn't sure he could survive that. Could the mystery alien live through something that hot and crushing?



Andy decided he had to find out. It might be his only chance to get rid of the pain in the neck.



Tossing someone into a nuclear furnace had once seemed like overkill. Now it seemed like the perfect solution to his problem.



He wondered what the next problem would bring?



A multitude of metal fists told him he should still work on his current troubles. The cracking of bone was replaced by searing light as the green flame repaired him in an instant. He grabbed his nearest enemy and punched out his heart.



Andy felt better with that one punch, but his wounded enemy simply picked up the pieces and crammed them back in its chest.



The A-Man took three seconds to ponder his tactical situation again as he fended off multiple high speed blows. His green flame helped with shields while he used his enhanced arms to block other things.



He needed to overwhelm his enemy and put them in a bottle they couldn't escape. How could he do that?



Maybe the moon could help him with that.



Andy struck the ground. Dust covered the battlefield. He ran his green flame over the cloud, transforming it. The changed dust hit the crowd of alien death dealers and stuck like a giant spider web.



He smiled as the alien tried to break free from his trap. Now all he had to do was get rid of it. He hoped the sun was hot enough to do the job.



Andy grabbed the web and took off in a trail of flame. His enhanced muscles carried the tons easily. He paused when he felt the first pull of gravity on him. He didn't dare go any closer.



He didn't know if his flame could take the heat and crushing gravity of the sun. That would be risking too much for what he wanted to do.



The A-Man spun the web of sand around and then he released. The sun did the rest with its inexorable pull.



That should take care of that.



Aliens sprouted from the web. They stretched out in a living chain to grab at him before they traveled too far toward the sun.



Andy tried to fly out of reach to escape his enemy. He hadn't planned that. Tentacles reached out to grab him by the arms.



He blasted the metal limb to break the grip. He shifted his gaze to focus on the expanding cloud of enemies. He had to encourage them to their doom.



Andy grew one of his fists into a giant hammer. He swung from outside of the pull of the sun's gravity. The invader tried to spread out to cushion the blow and keep from being sent deeper in the solar grip.



It might have caught the solar wind to stop its fall.



The Green Gazer punched a hole through the middle of the sail, folding it in the process.



The aliens tried to spread out to form a sail he couldn't punch through. That seemed to slow its fall. It laughed. Soon it would be out of the gravity well and headed back to Earth.



Andy aimed for the asteroid belt. He grabbed the biggest rock he could carry in his jazzed up form. He headed back to where the alien spread like some weird flower in space. He flung the asteroid into it like a pitcher for the Yankees. The planetlet hit and kept going, dragging the monster with it. They both vanished in a splash of the solar ocean.



"The pastry bar is closed."



epilogue

Andy Axelmore returned to Citytown on a flash of green light. He still had things to do before he vanished back into his ordinary life again.



The first thing he had to do was help round up the dead bodies. He could do that easily with his speed and power. He was stymied by the authorities having to photograph the scene to explain what had happened to the general public.



He grabbed one of the cameras and took pictures of the scene with his super speed. He changed cards on the run as he photographed everything. He handed the photos over to the government investigators for their review.



Then he marked out a space and began clearing the flattened bodies out of the building first. The men on the scene could handle the ones on the outside while he worked. A tent was set up for reception, tagging and bagging for transport to a morgue for notification of the family.



That was something he was glad he didn't have to do. Hundreds of families would be told that their loved ones had been killed by a rampaging monster. He was glad he didn't have to be the one telling them what had happened.



Just imagining the conversation was making his stomach rebel at the thought of it.



When Andy was done carefully laying out the bags of bones for the doctors, he started repairing the damage with his green flame power. He started with the building itself where the alien had crashed into it.



His green flame made the debris dance backward to fit together as good as it had before the monster had blasted through the ceiling. Everywhere he looked, things moved on their own accord. It wasn't much, but at least he had saved the place from being condemned.



He didn't know if it would save the businesses in the place. People might avoid the place due to what had happened.



He couldn't help that. Aliens attacked. They smashed things. He zoomed in and fought them off. Collateral damage was something he tried to avoid, but knew he couldn't. His speed was only good if he had a direction to move in.



He couldn't be everywhere to fight everything. His mind wouldn't allow that.



Andy flew around the shopping center to make sure everything had been fixed right. He moved out in the parking lot. Asphalt moved back in place. Lines repainted themselves. Cars moved back into parking slots and out of the way.



Andy landed with his red cape fluttering. He frowned at the repairs he had done. The only thing out of place was the ambulances taking the bodies to the morgue. The investigators walked the scene for any clues they had missed before the repair work had started.



Andy looked out toward Citytown. It all looked so normal now compared to moments ago. How many more space monsters would he have to rip apart before they stopped coming to get the green flame from him?



He would kill any threat to his people.



The first alien he had run into had taught him that.



Andy blasted into space. He had done what he could. It was up to others to pick up the pieces. He headed for the sun. He wanted to make sure the asteroid hadn't come out the other side with the alien intact.



This enemy had been the toughest he had ever faced. He wanted to make sure it was dead before he got back to his life.



He circled the sun just outside of the gravity well. He didn't see anything that looked like a black mass of metallic death machine.



It looked like his plan had worked. He knew it would. He headed back to Earth to assume his disguise.



The M-Man floated in space quite a ways away from the sun. He had survived at a diminished capacity. It would take some time for him to heal without raw materials. Most of his abilities were out of reach.



The asteroid had struck his joined body and sent it careening toward the nuclear furnace of Sol. He was going to die. He fired part of his body away like a seed from a mushroom.



It was the only way the M-Man could think to ensure its survival.



The seed had its memories and a small engine to get it going. That was the best he could do under the circumstances.



He had known the possessor of the green flame would be a worthy opponent but had still expected to win. He hadn't thought he would be the one clinging to survival.



The main body hit the sun, trying to use the asteroid as a shell for survival. Both burned away in a matter of minutes before they reached the core of the sun. He cut the transmission to the seed so it wouldn't feel the pain it had as gravity and nuclear reactions did their destruction on its body.



The new M-Man became aware as it drifted in space. Swift calculations told him he could still be pulled back into the sun because of gravity. He had to do something about that if he wanted to live.



He spread out his body and caught part of the solar wind. He aimed for the second planet. He could skim the atmosphere for things to make modifications to his body to make it spaceworthy again.



Then he would try a subtler approach. Trying brute force again was asking for more trouble now that he knew the owner of the green flame knew how to use the energy in the weapon.



He would have to think of a better way to get what it wanted.



Then it would eat all it wanted at the pastry bar. It could grow big enough to challenge other systems lords and take their extraordinary engines.



The galaxy would bow to its power.



"That's time." The bartender pointed to the clock on the wall. "It's closing time."



The man in the green hoodie nodded at the announcement.



"Thanks for listening to my story." He waved at the audience, finished his drink and headed for the front door.



"The hero has the same name as you do, Andy?" One of the audience members asked as he passed.



"I couldn't think of anything original." Andy brushed some of his brown hair away from his face. He smiled. "I have to go."



He paused at the door, looking at the others who were getting up to leave. He smiled again at something he had seen that had struck him as funny. He stepped outside the bar.



Andy walked away from the Lonesome October. He pulled up his green hood. Flame wrapped around him. His clothes became a red cape, purple and gray shirt and pants. His eyes spouted little columns of flame as he walked.



He looked up at the night sky. He blasted away from Gull City like a rocket. The world became a blue dot under him before it vanished from a lesser sight than what he possessed.



He breached the Oort Cloud and kept going into the galaxy beyond. He headed for a world he had adopted as his own out there on the other side of the galactic arm. It needed him more than Earth did.



He had erased his presence on Earth to cover the fact that he had ever existed there. No one on his new home knew where he was from. He kept it that way to stave off attacks to people who would be used as hostages if his connection to them became known.



His new world was more than capable of defending itself from the alien threats that wanted his green power for themselves. He was just another guy there.



He just couldn't cut the cord to his homeworld. It was like visiting your family on a holiday. So every now and then, he walked the city of his birth and listened to some stories from others. He wondered how many were as true as his.



He focused his attention on his new home. He poured on the speed. There were still things that needed his particular abilities to get the job done.



He broke into hyperspace as the Lonesome October closed its doors. He descended on his new home as the bartenders started cleaning after story night. He saved someone's life as they locked up for the night and headed for their cars in the lot.



Andy smiled.



The end.

January 2, 2011- Duncan's Engine chapter 44 is done.

Mr. Pace held his sword next to his leg as he walked in the hall. No one seemed watchful to him. He could be invisible to the soldiers lounging around.



Didn't they know what was going on outside?



They should be reaching for weapons and rushing the door. He frowned as he thought. Maybe they had expected the commotion, and didn't realize what the source was. He wondered what they expected to cause as much of a ruckus as he had.



He wondered how long he had before they realized their mistake.



Mr. Pace walked up to the large tank at the other end of the hall. He walked around it. He didn't like the fact it didn't have markings. He doubted what was inside was water.



He looked for a way to open it. He wanted to see what was inside. He had a feeling it had been readied for Duncan's arrival with his girlfriend. If he could scotch that now, it might save them work down the road.



He frowned at a lack of hasps, grips, or hinges. The thing had been welded shut without a seam. He would have thought it impossible before some of the things he had done already.



He needed to open that tank and look inside to make sure it wasn't a threat.



His glove still had some power from the looks of it. It was ragged with holes and peeled places, but it seemed to still be working. It should have enough to punch a hole in the cylinder.



Mr. Pace put the point of his sword against the metal wall. He held it in place as he concentrated. Then he stabbed through the tank with a quick motion.



A scream answered his probe. Blood welled up in the hole. The soldiers turned to face the source of the high wail.



I blew that. Mr. Pace readied his sword to fight his way out of the hall. He planned to get clear no matter what.



The soldiers readied their weapons to prevent him from doing that.



Mr. Pace looked for another way out as the crowd came closer. It didn't look good. The only door he could see was at the other end of the great hall. A platoon stood between him and that escape path.



He glanced at the bottom of the tank. It rested on a cradle. He wondered what would happen if he dumped the tank off the holder. Would it roll where he wanted?



He decided to find out.



He swept his buzzing sword through the arms of the cradle. The arms fell under the weight. That brought another scream from the hole in the tank.



He pushed with his gloved hand. Another scream expressed displeasure at moving. The soldiers scrambled to get out of the way of the steam roller he had set in motion. He ran behind the rotating cylinder, trying to avoid engaging the enemy.



Getting out seemed more important than cutting some goons down. If he wrecked Morgan's secret weapon while he was doing it, so much to better for the good guys.



He wished whatever was inside the tank would stop screaming.



The cylinder hit the door frame. The stone walls on the sides of the portal stopped the heavy weight with a crash. The scream stopped when the thing stopped moving.



Maybe the impact had concussed the screamer into silence.



That would make his day.



Mr. Pace fended off a couple light attacks as he ran at the tank. He wanted to get out of the room. He might have trapped the inner guard and Morgan's secret weapon in one fell swoop.



He vaulted to the top of the tank. He slid across the metal surface. He went through a small gap at the top of the blocked door frame. He dropped down on the other side and got to his feet.



He waved at the soldiers who were trying to get through the gap to follow him. He could cut them down one at a time now.



He turned and ran. He didn't want to get trapped between two groups of soldiers because he had decided to stab whoever tried to follow him.



It was better to keep moving in his opinion.



Getting bogged down was a good way to get killed.



He decided to get out of the castle now that the enemy knew he was there. Maybe he could lead some of them off before Duncan got there.



A group of soldiers ran around the corner he was going to use to get to the outer wall. They stood to block his path. Something was different about these men. They seemed more ready to fight than the ones he had embarrassed in the great hall.



They parted to reveal a man in too much armor. He looked like something out of a comic book rather than a soldier than a fantasy world. His black armor gleamed as he moved to the front of the line to confront Mr. Pace.



"You don't look like a challenger to the throne." The general smiled. "You have done a lot of damage to my castle so I can't let it pass."



"I heard the Queen owns this castle." Mr. Pace held his sword ready. "I'm sure she'll forgive what I've done."



"Even if that's true, why should she?" The general seemed annoyed at the mention of anyone owning where he had set up.



"Because I know her husband." He smiled to rub it in.



"That won't help you." The other man raised a hand like drawing a gun. A vent opened on the back of the gauntlet as he pointed at Mr. Pace. Light blazed out of the square opening.



Mr. Pace raised his sword to block out of instinct. He felt his glove vibrate as it worked to shield him from the blast. The light struck the blade and went into the ceiling in the hall. Stone blocks started falling around them.



He jumped back to get clear of the rocky rain. The general pointed at him again. He decided that the next attack should be deflected into the man's heavy looking suit. That would stop those lasers.



He glanced at his glove. A new hole ran in the palm of it. It might go out on him any minute. He had to get out of there.



That suit didn't look like it was going to run out of power any time soon.



Where had Morgan come up with the idea for that? It didn't belong with the rest of the world he had seen on his journey to the castle.



The blast came as Mr. Pace ran down the hall. He batted it back as more of his magic glove burned away. He didn't think he had enough to block more than one more blast with his blade.



Soldiers moved in to cut him off. He raised his sword. He wondered how many he could take with him before he went down.



"Don't even think about it, old man." The general pointed his weapon at Mr. Pace. "I'll let you live until the Queen arrives if you put down your sword now. Otherwise, they'll find a smear when they get here."



Mr. Pace considered the odds. He decided it was better to live a few more moments than get killed before the job was done. He dropped his sword.



"That was very wise of you." The general gestured for his men to seize his enemy. "The sword."



One of the underlings handed him the blade. He seemed puzzled by its lack of magical properties. He handed it to one of his men for guarding in case he figured out how to unlock its potential later.



Mr. Pace looked at the crowd and wonder if he should have gone down fighting.



January 2, 2011- Link to 2010

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