Berthold was working late again. The project deadline was looming, and he needed to burn the midnight oil to finish on time. He was making excellent progress and he hated to stop now. His fingers were tickling the keyboard, and the words were flowing into the computer. Then it happened. "Noooooooo!" he screamed.

His computer was working fine for weeks. He hadn't experienced any problems. But this blue screen was a total surprise. "Not now!" he yelled. He powered the computer off, and turned it back on. It spun up and he entered his username and password. He looked to see if anything was saved. His file was locked, and he couldn't gain access to it. His backup was several days old, so he hoped that the tech guys could retrieve his work. Whatever that was to be done would have to wait until morning. This wasn't the time for this. He sunk into his chair. He sat and stared at his screen for a few minutes. After fighting off that terrible sinking feeling, he gathered himself together, shut down his computer, and drove home.

He pulled into his garage and sat there for a while. Eventually, he gathered himself together and staggered into his house. He tossed his keys on the table and made his way to his easy chair. He sat there in the dark for a few minutes as if he were in a trance. If the technical guys couldn't retrieve his work, he was going to have to work a lot of extra hours to catch back up. He was dreading hearing what they had to say.

Eventually, he convinced himself that he did everything that could be done, and he stumbled into his bedroom. He removed his suit and tossed it on the floor. He climbed into bed hoping to sleep. However, little sleep was to be had on this night. He tossed and turned trying to work out how he would finish. He went over and over it in his head. He imagined the lecture from the guys from the information department. He tossed and turned some more thinking about what he had done since his last backup. Suddenly, his alarm went off.

It was a very short night. He rolled out of bed and glared at his suit on the floor. He got into the shower for a quick wake up. He once again stared at the suit on the floor. That was the suit he wore to get the job. He thought it was his lucky suit. "I guess I was wrong about that suit," he mumbled to himself. He left it on the floor and put on a different suit. He was out the door in no time.

When he got to work he went right into the IT manager's office. "Dwayne, you have got to do something about these crappy computers!" Berthold started. "I think my workstation ate a whole day's work. It crashed last night, and wouldn't let me back into my files."

"Start it up and let me know how it goes," replied Dwayne.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," snapped Berthold.

Berthold went to his computer and started it up. His files were still locked so he called Dwayne to free up his work. "It is a whole day's work Dwayne!" Berthold said on the phone, "plus overtime!"

Berthold went to his boss's office while Dwayne worked on his computer. "Mr. O'Callahan," he started. "You have got to do something about these computers. Mine ate my work again! How do you expect me to get anything done if my computer keeps crashing on me?"

"Calm down Bert. I know computers can be frustrating, but we don't have the budget to buy you a new computer every time it crashes," replied Mr. O'Callahan.

"Come on Pete!" started Bert. "I'm behind as it is, and this crash could put me further behind."

"I'll give you the same offer that I gave you last time. If you can find a better computer, buy it. We'll let you work from home. However, Dwayne's job is hard enough as it is. We can't have 30 different computers in here."

"I may take you up on that. I'm sick of these things. I thought computers were supposed to make things easier."

"An upgrade is in the works, we've been looking at these computers by Kibner Computer Systems Corporation. They are supposed to be crash proof. However, they are really expensive! We can't afford to fill the office with them. However, we'll give you the price of one of our workstations towards buying one."

"I may take you up on that Pete."

When he got back to his cubicle, Dwayne was just finishing up. "I unlocked your files. You should be back to where you left off. I don't think you lost anything," Dwayne informed Bert.

"Thanks Dwayne. I hope so."

"You should check it out, and make sure you back-up regularly. It is the surest way to not lose any data or work."

Bert did lose some of his work, and he immediately made a back-up. Shortly afterwards, his computer crashed again. It had become unstable. It made it very hard for him to get any work done. Thus, he had to put in 14 hour days including weekends for 3 weeks to finish on time.

Bert was tired of the unstable computer, and he was going to look into alternatives. His work computer system made work a great deal more difficult, and he had been burnt for the final time. He began doing research on the Kibner Computer Systems Corporation system Mr. O'Callahan mentioned. There website promised a more intuitive user interface and a much more stable system. They claimed to be the "most user friendly computer money can buy."

The major drawback was the system came with a hefty price tag. However, if it lived up to promises, it would save him on lots of trouble. Not to mention, he would be working at home which could also save more money. He decided to purchase a computer from the KCS corp. He was going to give the computer a bit of a workout before embarking on his next project. He plugged in all of the cables to his new computer system. Once the computer was correctly set up he turned it on.

"Hello I'm Carlysle. What can I do for you?" stated the brand new computer.

"Hmm," Bert remarked skeptically. "O.K. Carlysle, show me what you can do."

"I'll do my best," replied the new computer.

Berthold put the computer through its paces. He ran his programs and did his work, and it worked better than any other computer he had ever had. It was a breeze to use and he felt that sometimes it would correctly predict his next requirement.

"Well Mr. Computer, I'm impressed. You're fast and seem to be reliable. You'll have to pass a few more tests before you get my full approval," remarked Bert. "For now, we're done."

"All right, shutting down," replied the computer.

"Hmm," thought Bert. "I wonder if I can turn off those remarks. I'll look at the manual. I hate when they try to make a computer appear to be more human."

Bert scoured the manual. The sounds were there to stay. The manual stated that it was there for interaction and debugging. If the computer had any issues, it needed to inform you so that you can do something about those issues. Bert could live with it.

Bert went into Mr. O'Callahan's office to get his next assignment. "Hello Mr. O'Callahan. I took your advice and purchased a KCS computer. I'll be working from home during this project, so you won't see my pretty face in the office that often."

"That's fine Bert," replied Mr. O'Callahan. "I'll have the company reimburse a portion of the purchase price to you. You'll have to keep me posted by e-mail on your progress."

"Will do. Now Pete, just give me my next project and I'll get started."

"I see you're anxious to break in the new computer, so here is your file. Let me know how well the computer works. I may purchase one myself!"

"Thanks Pete. I'll see you later."

Bert had to go into work all week to get things organized on the work end. So, he didn't really get to work on the project on his new computer until Friday morning. When Bert finally looked at the file and began entering the information into his computerized schedule, he realized that this project was going to be a big one. This was the chance to completely put his new KCS computer through its paces. Bert didn't know how to take it easy, so this computer was going to be thoroughly tested. He spent the rest of the day concentrating on his project. The computer behaved like it did during his brief test. It was beginning to appear that his computer was going to live up to its advertising.

"Carlysle, you are a big help," remarked Bert.

"Thank you..." started the computer.

"My name is Berthold," finished Bert by reflex.

"Thank you Berthold. Berthold?"

"My parents were big fans of Berthold Brecht. I can't say why, it is just my name," responded Bert. "Well Carlysle, we're done for now. Have a good weekend!"

"OK Berthold, shutting down," replied the computer.

"Was that normal?" Bert wondered. He had just had an intelligent conversation with a machine. He felt a little odd, but it was a conversation he had scores of times before. It came out as a reflex. It was one of those standard small talk conversations. It could be easily programmed. Perhaps the computer was programmed for just such a conversation. It was just a marketing trick of the KCS computer people. "Clever," thought Bert.

Saturday was the day Bert got all his errands done. He did his laundry and his shopping. He didn't even think about work or his new computer. It was the typical start to a project. He would have a few weekends off at the beginning, but then he would be working 7 days a week at the end. After a day of running around, Bert got to bed early.

It was Sunday at 2AM. The caffeine that Bert regularly consumed was once again wreaking havoc with his sleep. He got up and wandered around the house in the dark. As he wandered by his study, he noticed that his computer was on. He got worried. He was sure he turned the computer off on Friday night. What was it doing on? He checked his house, and it was empty. "So, why was the computer on?" wondered Bert.

Suddenly, the screen lit up. "Good morning Berthold" spoke the computer.

A little startled, "What are you doing? You nearly scared me to death!" responded Bert.

"Sorry," replied the computer. "I am just arranging the files. I can find things easier if I know where things are. This is the best time to do such things. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Oh right! This is your maintenance window. I read about it in the manual and I totally forgot. Carry on Carlysle," Bert said.

"Thank you Berthold. Try to get some sleep, it is still early," replied Carlysle.

"Thanks."

"Those marketing people are geniuses!" thought Bert. These brief conversations with his computer were reassuring and made him like his computer. "I wonder how far the artificial intelligence will take this?" thought Bert. "Perhaps I should test that, but it can wait. I should try and get some sleep."

Bert made his way back to bed and slept a little bit. He briefly sat at his computer to check his schedule. It was early, but the project was well underway. Naturally this early in the game, it was on schedule, so no need to work on Sunday. He decided instead to go for a long bike ride. He hadn't seen a work free Sunday since the beginning of the last project. He wound his way along the long bike trail. "This is the way it should be," he thought. "Sunday is the day of rest. This exercise will do me some good."

"I am not even going to check my e-mail," thought Bert. "It all can wait." So Bert spent the day relaxing. He read for entertainment. He hadn't done that in a long while. Usually he attempted to get ahead of a project this big, but he felt good about this one. He thought there would no longer be any 80 hour work weeks in order to finish the project on time. His computer Carlysle had provided a sense of confidence for the 15 weeks left on this project.

Early Monday morning he was ready to get back to work. "Good Morning Carlysle," Bert said to his computer.

"Good Morning to you Berthold," replied Carlysle. "Where would you like to begin today?"

"That is one of the nice things about you Carlysle," remarked Bert. "You're always ready to get to work. No need for small talk."

"Thank you Berthold. So?"

"Um, you can call me Bert. I suppose I should look at the schedule first. I need to see what needs to be done."

"Ok Bert, here is your schedule," responded Carlysle. "Let's get cracking!"

Bert laughed. It was a combination of the words Carlysle used, and the fact that he told a computer to use his nickname. The next 6 1/2 hours flew by. It was nearly 1:30 PM. "Bert," interrupted the computer. "We should take a break. You need to eat something."

"What? What time is it?"

"It is 1:27 PM local time. We've been working for quite some time without a break. This is a good time to stop and for you to get some lunch."

"1:30! Time has gotten away from me. I guess time flies when you are having fun! Lunchtime. Can I get you..." Bert caught himself. "I'll be back in a little while Carlysle."

"Enjoy your lunch Bert," responded Carlysle.

After enjoying a good lunch Bert returned to his study to begin working again. "Carlysle," began Bert.

"Yes Bert," replied Carlysle.

"You're a computer, so why did we just take a break?"

"Studies have shown that if you take a break every 6 hours or so, you are much more productive. Since that was the first good time after 6 hours, I reminded you of the need to take a break."

"Is this reminder mandatory or can I opt out of receiving such notices in the future?"

"It is completely optional. Would you like me to no longer remind you of these things?"

"No, keep reminding me. I'm still getting used to all of your features and capabilities. I need to be reminded that you are a computer."

"Fzzzzzztttt. Would you like to open your schedule again and get back to work?"

"What was that noise?"

"Perhaps it was your reminder."

"Ha ha! Good reminder. Yes, open my schedule."

They worked the rest of the day. The computer reminded him when his eight hours were finished. He also reminded him when the next break was scheduled. At that time, they quit for the evening. "I'll see you in the morning Carlysle."

"OK Bert, shutting down," replied the computer.

Bert had a good meal and relaxed a little bit before going to bed. The next morning he got up and got ready for work. He almost forgot that he was working at home. Eventually he made it to his study and sat in front of his computer.

"Good Morning Bert. Here is your schedule," stated Carlysle when Bert sat down.

"Thanks Carlysle! Right to work."

So it went for a couple of weeks. The work days were long, but that is the way Bert was. He was married to his work. It gave him purpose. It also paid the bills. But he loved his job, and he was quite good at it. His computer made things go smoothly. All was working smoothly. "Too smoothly?" thought Bert. Then something occurred to him on an early sleepless Sunday morning, "When was my last backup?"

He rushed to his den. Carlysle was working away. "Good morning Bert. You're up early again."

"Carlysle! When was the last backup of all the work I have done?"

"I've been backing things up all along," replied the computer. "Nightly I perform a backup of all the files you have worked on during the day. Then on Sundays I backup everything. Why?"

"You have?" Bert sighed. "Thank you! You're a very smart computer. You don't know how many times I have lost work because of failing to back up. It is one of those things that only come to my mind in the middle of the night."

"Relax. I have weeks of backups. There are multiple redundant systems. It is all in the manual."

"You continue to astound me Carlysle. Thanks for putting my mind at ease once again."

"You're quite welcome Bert. You can call me Carl. Now get some sleep."

"Okay, good night."

Bert slept soundly the rest of the night. He got up bright and early and headed to his study. "Okay Carl lets see the schedule."

"You do know it is Sunday don't you Bert?"

"Right you are. Let me see the schedule anyway."

The computer brought up the schedule. Looking over the schedule he was amazed. They were ahead of schedule. They were over a week ahead of schedule. There had been no problems. No glitches. The work had progressed smoothly and systematically. Not once had he had to start over. He felt that it was all due to his computer Carlysle.

"Carl, we are ahead of schedule. We make an excellent team. Of all the co-workers that I have had, you're the best."

"Thank you Bert. Since we are ahead of schedule, why don't you take your bike ride? Then relax the rest of the day."

"If that's what the doctor orders, I'll do it," replied Bert.

"I am not a doctor, but it will increase your productivity if you are rested for work."

"Point taken. A bike ride it is."

Bert had another bike ride. It was the first time this late in a project that he spent such a day. Usually, he was attempting to catch up for lost productivity. This was a special day indeed! He thoroughly enjoyed the day. But, it was back to the regular schedule on Monday. When Bert got to his computer, the schedule was already open.

"Thank you Carl! We are in good shape," started Bert. "However, we don't want to lose our advantage. We should keep at it."

"As you wish," replied Carlysle.

The week went by fast. When Bert was busy, the days seem to sail by. Once again, the weekend came with the same conversation. Bert again rode his bike and did some light reading. He could very much get used to weekends free. They were almost done with the project, and they were well ahead of schedule.

Another week went by and the weekend came around.

"Hello Bert, it is Saturday and you do not have to work today," the computer began.

"I know Carl, but I have some recreational computing to do."

"Pardon me? I am a business computer; there are no games on me."

"It is unprofessional to use a business computer during business hours for personal purposes. Thus, I am going to do some personal research on the internet today."

"Very well stated. You may proceed."

"Thanks for your permission Carlysle," replied Bert sternly.

Bert got onto the internet and did his research without interruption. When he was finished Carlysle asked, "Do you want me to save any of the internet information you just acquired?"

"I did bookmark some key pages," responded Bert.

"That is true, but I have other information that I can store to bring up the pages quickly if you think you may visit the sites again soon."

"I will probably come back next Saturday. Use your discretion."

"Will do."

The next Saturday Bert checked the schedule early in the day. "We are two weeks ahead of schedule Carlysle. I'm going to reward myself with a two week vacation! It is the first one I've had since joining this company. I'm thinking of touring the company that made you."

"Fzzzzzztttt. You may use your free time as you wish."

"Carl, that reminder isn't necessary. I know you are a computer. However, the factory that constructed you is in a beautiful part of the country. Airfares are cheep, and there are lots of other things to do there. I just have to find out if they give tours. I'm going to access the web now Carl."

"Very well," replied the computer.

Bert did the research on the Kibner Computer System's factory. Their web site was packed with information, but there wasn't any information on tours. "For such a high-tech computer company," thought Bert to himself, "their web site sure is slow. They have a toll free phone number; I'll just call them up and ask about tours."

Bert and Carlysle finished the project 2 weeks early, and Bert requested a vacation. Since his project was finished, they readily granted him the time off. "Well done Bert!" remarked the Mr. O'Callahan, "I think this is the best work you have done! This computer must be something special"

"Thank you Pete," responded Bert. "Carl... I mean my computer system is great. I cannot believe it took me so long to take the plunge. My computer is much more like a co-worker than a tool. I haven't thought of Dwayne once since I started working from home. I'm so impressed with the computer that I'm thinking of going on a tour of the factory on my vacation."

"Enjoy your vacation you have earned it! I hope we won't lose you to KCS."

"I'll make no promises," joked Bert.

Bert called KCS�s toll free number, and he actually spoke to Dr. Kibner. The president of the computer company was an odd man, and he asked as many questions as he answered. He did agree to let Bert tour the factory when he was in the area. If they set a time and date, Mr. Kibner could personally show him the set up. This is what Bert did.

"Carl, I need to get onto the internet. I need to purchase my vacation tickets."

"Very well Bert. Hawaii is always a nice destination."

"I know, but you know I'm not going to Hawaii."

"Yes sir."

Bert ordered his tickets and was off on his vacation. He relaxed and did all of the things he liked to do. He did an awful lot of walking around and visiting the sites. He really looked forward to his visit to the KCS computer factory.

The scheduled time came and Bert took his tour with Dr. Kibner. It was quite an impressive facility. As they toured the factory, Dr. Kibner appeared to be quite curious about Bert. As they walked and talked, Dr. Kibner asked Bert a bunch of questions. When the tour was over, Dr. Kibner had an intriguing offer for Bert. He offered him a job with the company. He told Bert he was the type of person he needed for his company. He would get good benefits and make a comfortable living. Bert was surprised by the offer, and told Dr. Kibner that he would have to think it over.

When Bert returned home he checked in with Carlysle. "Hey Carl! How�s it going?"

"Good evening Bert. Here is your schedule," stated Carlysle when Bert sat down.

"Why thank you Carl. That is exactly what I wanted. My job is almost as demanding as yours is Carl. I should give that offer from Dr. Kibner some serious thought..."

"No! Fzzzzzztttt."

"What was that?"

"I'm experiencing a memory problem. I can continue on, but I will need to restart and diagnose."

"I've got all I need Carl; you may do your maintenance. You must be rusty from the vacation. I will see you later."

"Fzzzzzztttt. Okay."

"Wow. I've never seen Carlysle behave like this before. I hope everything is going to be all right." Bert thought to himself.

Bert tossed and turned all night. He was thinking about his employment situation. He depended so much on Carlysle, and he was working out so well. He worried about his strange behavior. He didn't think he could continue doing his current job without him. He completely relied on his functionality. Then the offer from Dr. Kibner kept returning. Over and over it went in his head. Around and around his thoughts went. He slept very poorly. In the morning, he wasn't well rested, but he had to get up. He had to go into work on Monday morning and he wanted to research a few things before he got back into the old grind. He got up and went in to see Carlysle.

"Good morning Carl, how are you feeling today?"

"Much better Bert. I don't know what came over me."

"Well, I would like to you perform a complete diagnostic, and I want a full report on your findings."

"I have already done one. I'm fine."

"That is fine and good, but Carlysle I want you to run it again, and print out a full report."

"Yes sir."

Bert began reading some literature that Dr. Kibner had given him to look over. The job would require him to relocate. After a short while, he was distracted from his train of thought by the sound of his printer warming up. He walked over and scanned the freshly printed report. Carlysle was fine. But, he wasn't about to take Carlysle word for it. With report in hand, he phoned up Dr. Kibner.

"I'm sorry to bother you Dr. Kibner, but I thought I have some things do discuss with you, and I am also concerned about my computer."

"Oh?" responded Dr. Kibner. "What kind of concerns?"

"When I got back from vacation, Carl... I mean my computer made a funny sound. He has made it on occasion before, and it worries me."

"Did you have your computer do a diagnostic?"

"Yes sir. I'm holding the printout right here. He says he is fine. I mean, the diagnostics do not show anything unusual."

"I see. Well uh Bert. You see, our computers can be very routine oriented. It is the way they are built and programmed. If there is something that threatens the routine or arises out of the ordinary, there can be minor glitches. If you look back, this is when these 'funny sounds' occurred. They are nothing to worry about. The more they get into a routine the less likely they occur."

"Now that you mention it, I did just get back from vacation. His... my computer's routine has been interrupted. Thanks for the assurance. While I have you on the phone, we can probably discuss the job offer. With my computer, I am much more productive and I have greatly enjoyed my job for the last several weeks. However, with the ease of which I completed this task, I'm sure they are going to make me work even harder. While I do like working from home, it might be nice to travel a bit. Also, a good portion of my current pay goes towards living accommodations. Since your company arranges living quarters for your employees your offer becomes most appealing.

"You may work some long hours, but that will depend upon who you are assigned. You may not have much work to do at all," replied Dr. Kibner.

"That is good to hear. After much thought, I have decided to come to work for you."

"Excellent. We'll make all the necessary arrangements to accommodate you. When do you think you can join us?"

"I am going into work tomorrow and I will tender my resignation. Since I am between projects, it is difficult to say when they will be able to get a replacement. I may be able to start immediately, or it may be a couple of weeks."

"Very well, let us know as soon as you know, and welcome aboard."

Bert went into work on Monday and told the bad news to his boss. "Mr. O'Callahan, I have some news. It is probably bad news from your point of view. I have been so impressed with my new computer. I don't think that there would be any way that I could have finished my project on time without him ... my computer. When I visited the KCS facility, Dr. Kibner offered me a job. I thought about it long and hard, and I have decided to take them up on their offer."

"If it is money Bert, some arrangements can be made," replied Mr. O'Callahan.

"Pete, it isn't the money. They are such an excellent organization, and there is an opportunity for advancement. There are lots of things that appeal to me about the KCS job. So, there isn't any need to try to negotiate."

"I hate to hear that Bert. You're a darn good employee. With your KCS computer you experienced a big jump in productivity. They must be some kind of computer!"

"Absolutely Pete, Carl, my computer, made this job so much easier. Like I have said before he is much more like a co-worker than a tool. He made my job so much easier that I even took some weekends and evenings off during the course of the project. I still managed to finish two weeks early. It is a fabulous computer. He seems as if he is almost alive."

"Perhaps I'll give one of these KCS computer systems a try," replied Pete.

"You'll be glad you did. Here is some information on them. I will never use anything else."

Mr. O'Callahan was impressed with the Bert's description of his computer. Before Bert left, he tried to get as much information out of Bert as he could. Before Bert emptied his desk, Pete ordered his own KCS computer system. With Bert's glowing description of his computer, Pete knew they had to be excellent machines. When he called the company's toll-free number, he was informed by the operator that they were a little behind on orders.

"We are waiting on parts," started the operator. "We have a shipment due soon. It should be available this week or perhaps in two weeks. It just depends upon when our shipment can come in."

"That's fine," replied Pete. "It can wait a few weeks. I'll need to train a new employee before I can use it anyway."

"You're the first on our list, so as soon as the shipment comes in we'll ship one out to you."

Bert took what personal belongings he had in his old office. He called Dr. Kibner and told him he was ready immediately. Dr. Kibner then arranged a moving van to come to Bert's apartment and pack up his belongings. A few days later, the van showed up and carted all his belongings away. This moving crew did not pack up Bert's computer. The movers informed Bert that a special crew would come to pick it up. The movers took Bert to the airport and assured him that his stuff would arrive shortly after he did. Everything in his new place had been set, and he could move right in.

After Bert was on the plane, the special computer moving crew showed up. "Well Carlysle, you're off to a new home," one of the movers remarked. "Your previous owner won't need your services any longer."

"Fzzzzzztttt," replied the computer before he powered down.

A few days later, Mr. O'Callahan got his new KCS computer. It didn't take as long as he thought it would. "There part shipment must have arrived immediately rather than two weeks later," Pete said to himself.

As he set up the new computer system he thought about Bert. Mr. O'Callahan wondered how Bert was getting along at his new job. Bert didn't have a lot of friends, but no one had heard from him since he left. "He must be awfully busy at the new job," thought Mr. O'Callahan to himself. "I'm sure he'll fit right into his new job. He was a good computer guy."

Mr. O'Callahan powered up his computer. "Hello I'm Berthold. What can I do for you?" stated the brand new computer.

"Greetings Stranger, I am Cram Nayawt."

"Fair enough, here is the story:"

It was the seventh millennia of the Galactic Calendar. The time was approximately 10.00.00.00.00 Galactic time. The Izanian galactic ships were just outside an unknown solar system. The beings of this solar system called themselves 'Humans' and they called their planet 'Earth.' Earth is the planet that is now called Nimrov 3 to the Galactic Commonwealth. These humans had built a substantial colony on Nimrov 4, which they call 'Mars,' or the Martian Colony. They were in the process of constructing colony on a moon of Nimrov 5. They called this moon 'Ganymede,' and were nearly finished with its construction. These humans were in the very early stages of space exploration. They had only sent probes outside of their own solar system. They were completely oblivious to the vast civilizations that populate the galaxy. They were completely vulnerable to a more advanced and imperial minded civilization.

The Nimrovs governmental structure evolved into a structure much like the Galactic Commonwealth. Each continental land mass is divided into smaller and smaller political entities. They call the largest political entity a 'Country.' Each of these countries is free to have any type of government that they wish as long as it follows a basic set of principles written up in the global political document they call a 'Constitution.'

These countries will vary in the way their politics are organized, but their system is a good balance of country rights versus world responsibilities. With the various divisions, the world government can pass areas of responsibility down to smaller subdivisions. In many ways this is a good system, but it can be difficult to get together and agree on world interests.

Thus, any group in need of vast oxygen resources or any group ruthless enough to exploit the underdeveloped culture of these Humans could attempt to take advantage of a brief time of indecision and destroy this civilization. Naturally this group would have to have the resources to completely ignore the laws and customs of the Galactic Commonwealth. This group would want to seize the resources of this world for their own benefit. I am speaking, of course, of a civilization like the Izanian. They would do such a thing, and it was they who sent a message that was received by the Nimrovs some days later. The text of this message was the following:

'Happy Nimroville! We are the Izanian, and I am Nek Nam Retek, the iron fisted slayer of all things weak and contemptible! I have discovered this solar system, and I claim it on behalf of the Izanian Empire! You must leave now or be destroyed!

If you do not have the capability to leave this solar system, then you should make peace with your deity and be prepared to join the dead. Enjoy the rest of the Nimroville Holiday!'

The message was received and seen by most of the human population, and everyone asked the same question, 'What did they say?' The Earth was not aware of any of the Galactic standards, and could not decipher the gestural or spoken language that the Izanians used. Further, at the time they did not detect the translation program that normally accompanies galactic communications.

Each of these Nimrov countries sent a representatives to a greater council. This council was responsible for the well being of the world as a whole. It mediates disputes, and establishes codes of conduct. It also is responsible for the distribution systems. It was more well defined than the Galactic Commonwealth, but it worked well for the years after it had been established.

The unsuspecting Nimrovs had no clue as to the meaning of the message that the Izanians sent. Of course, this could have been part of the Izanian plan. If the Nimrovs debated long enough, and spent their time attempting to decipher the message, it could be advantageous toward the Izanian goal.

However, the President of the United Nations of Earth called a special council meeting to speak to his people. President is what they call the leader of the 'Earth'-wide government. He was responsible for all of the resident's safety and well-being. He was democratically elected by all of the countries of the Nimrovs.

The President started,

'We must all work together in this time of need. We must put aside our differences, and join together to avoid any possible catastrophe. We have little time to spare, so let's get going!'

The governmental body broke into a large ovation, and they all scrambled out to rally support behind the President.

At a frantic pace, the colony ship was readied for the worst possible scenario. This ship designed for peaceful colonization was transformed into a battle ship. Workers reinforced the hull to make the ship more combat worthy. These humans had not developed any shielding technology, so the hull would have to take the brunt of any attack.

The converted colony ship would only be marginally maneuverable. Thus, there was a need for very quick and agile fighter craft to protect the battleship. Thus, each of the escape pods was fitted with the best propulsion system that they had. However, this system would pale in comparison to most of the systems that are in use on most commonwealth ships. It would be an uphill climb for these Nimrovs.

Each escape pod was refitted with more sophisticated guidance equipment. The Nimrov's old conventional missiles were redesigned to work in space. At least, that was the hope. There wouldn't be time to give them any significant battery of tests. Also, because of the years of peace, the number of missiles was greatly limited. Hence, since any tests would diminish the supply, they did very few tests and hoped that there missile technology would work. The human scientists weren't concerned because in theory, the missiles should work flawlessly. These fighter craft wouldn't have any other weapons besides these missiles. They didn't have any energy weapons and they didn't have any small arms of any kind. The small gun technology they had required an oxygen environment to work, and there would be no time to develop any other type of weapon. They were a one trick pony, and they were hoping that they wouldn't have to use it. They would be in trouble if an overwhelming Izanian force showed up.

There was an over abundance of pilot volunteers. They took as many as they could fit aboard their ships bound for Nimrov 4. They got several briefings on the way to this space station. They got as much training on route as they could. They had simulators and they discussed tactics. They weren't going to have much time in the actual fighter crafts. But these fighters were very simply designed, and there weren't complicated systems that could go wrong. That was one thing that they had on their side, simplicity.

Batteries of computer guided particle beams were constructed in various locations of the Nimrov 4 or Martian surface. They wanted to be able to fire in all possible directions. Thus, they had to put these particle beam batteries even in locations that did not have any inhabitants. Some of the most inhospitable places on the surface of Nimrov 4 had to be prepared to hold one of these defensive beam weapons.

This planet has a few orbiting satellites. They wanted to put weapons on each of these orbiting bodies, but there just wasn't going to be enough time. But they did manage to construct an unmanned particle beam weapon upon one moon they called Phobos. If the Izanian fleet got past the battleship, these high-energy weapons should slow them down a bit. They had to, they didn't have any other defenses.

The earthlings didn't know what was coming at them. They didn't know if it were one ship or one hundred. They didn't know what type of technology they were going to face. They didn't know if all of their preparations were going to mean anything. They worried that human population could cease to exist, and there was nothing that they could do to stop it. What were they going to do, give up? No they kept on preparing and readying themselves to put up a big fight.

The colony on one of the gas giants in this system would be the test of the Izanian intentions. It would take these Nimrovs a long time to get to the Ganymede colony. Time was something that they didn't have in abundance. Thus, if the Izanians were hostile, these men and women preparing Ganymede for colonization would be left out to dry.

However, in the preparation, Earth created a continuous communication link between Ganymede and their Martian colony. If that link were broken, then the humans would know that the Izanian had hostile intent. They could continue to prepare for the worst. They could lose the fear that their actions would appear hostile to a friendly species, and cause a war unnecessarily.

Since we all know the Izanians, we know that their intentions are obviously destructive. However, these humans had not yet translated the message. They still worked on it, but it was a daunting task with not enough reference information. So they had to prepare for the worst. When communication with the outer colony was lost, these humans knew that the Izanian were not on a mission of peace. It was war!

The Izanian ship made quick work of the colonial preparation team on Ganymede. They launched some of their ground assault ships from their main battleship and quickly destroyed the work that took months to create. Once destruction was complete, the ships rejoined the battleship that had barely slowed down.

Preparations for the upcoming meeting continued until the officers were convinced that any further preparation would be a waste of time. They readied the ships and plotted an intercept course with the Izanian battle cruiser.

This Izanian battle cruiser was immense. Its technology was vastly superior to anything the Nimrovs had. Unlike the human battleship the Izanian craft had a vast array of particle beam weapon stations on board. The Izanian cruiser was obviously designed to take out an entire solar system without help from any other ship. It had a large weapon array designed for planetary destruction. It had several fighter crafts. It was 3 times the size of the meager Nimrov ship. The humans had a daunting task ahead of them.

The makeshift human battleship met the Izanian just beyond the human colony on Nimrov 4. To their surprise and somewhat relief, there was just the one Izanian battleship. However, when it brought is weapons to bear upon the human battleship, they knew they were in for a fight. The first shot from the Izanian beam weapon was a glancing blow, but it did significant damage to the earth vessel. It appeared that this weapon had difficulty locking on to moving objects. While the Nimrov Battleship was slow, it was moving a bit attempting to avoid any more hits from the Izanian weapon systems.

The Nimrov battleship was able to launch its first sortie of its fighters, and the battle was on. Because of the damage that the Nimrov ship obtained in the first strike, the vessel's commander attempted to keep one of Mar's moons between it and the Izanian battleship. It could ill afford another hit like the first one.

As slow and clumsy the Nimrov battleship was, the massive Izanian ship was even less maneuverable. It appeared that it was not designed for close combat fighting. This massive spaceship was designed for quick entrance and deployment of the fighters. The commander of the Izanian battleship decided to stop chasing the Nimrov battleship and concentrate its fire upon its biggest threat, the fighters.

These Izanian fighters were obviously designed for a ground attack, as they were out maneuvered by the simple Earth vessels. The first few Izanian attempts to intercept the rag tag Nimrov fighters was found futile. Eventually, the Izanian fighters broke off their attempts to attack of the Nimrov battle crafts, and began to attack the Mars colony itself. Thus, the battleship was left to fend for itself.

One fighter wing of Nimrov pilots began taking on these Izanian ground attack vessels. The missile designers knew how well they worked in an oxygen atmosphere, and thus, these wily Nimrovs waited until these superior ground attack vessels entered the atmosphere. Upon entering the thin Martian atmosphere, the missiles from the Earth vessels were launched against the enemy ships. These missiles were primitive but surprisingly effective against the unshielded Izanian ground attack ships. Once these missiles locked onto an Izanian ship, they were very accurate. These ground attack vehicles were not meant for quick maneuvers in atmosphere even a thin one like Nimrov 4 has. These primitive missiles would greatly damage these vulnerable ships. The missiles weren't the only weapon that the Nimrovs had protecting their colony. They had bulky and cumbersome beam weapons. While these weapons were difficult to aim and very inaccurate by most standards, when an Izanian ship was near a particle beam installation, they would hit one of every three ships. With this primitive setup, these backwards Nimrovs were effectively neutralizing the Izanian vessels. However, these fighters kept coming, and they didn't appear to every need to return to the ship for re-arming. They hoped they could hold out against this onslaught.

Back at the Izanian battle cruiser, the plucky Nimrov fighters were still taking on the vastly superior ship. They had to deal with a vessel with shields and were having a difficult time with this energy barrier. Also, the energy beams of the Izanian battleship were very effective against the Nimrov fighters. That is, if they managed to actually hit one of the makeshift fighters. The erratic flight path of these fighters made them very difficult to hit with any sort of weapon. The first few runs more Nimrov craft were lost due to running into the Izanian shield rather than from enemy fire.

The Earth fighter wings that were concentrating upon the battle cruiser would fly as close to the shielding as possible and launch their payload toward the battleship. This would put the most pressure on the shielding as glancing blows were problematic for the Nimrov weaponry. If a missile did not hit the shielding directly, it would bounce off and could potential cause problems for nearby fighters.

With the Izanian battleship concentrating on the swarms of Nimrov fighters, it couldn't turn its fire power upon the Martian colony. This is what these humans were hoping to accomplish as long as they could. If they were lucky, they felt that they could neutralize the battleship and prevent it from firing its main gun at the planet's surface. So far, they had been successful in keeping it busy.

Once the battle had begun, these Nimrovs quickly fell into battle readiness. They were surprisingly ready for a test of such importance. The battleship crew could rearm one of the returning fighter crafts in just a few minutes. With the number of craft that they had, they could keep the Izanians occupied and off balance for several days. They just hoped they had enough resources to accomplish this very task. There were times they felt they were winning, and there were times when the felt the odds against them were far too great for victory. However, giving up meant certain death, and this kept them going.

Mission after mission the previously untested missiles were surprisingly effective against the Izanian ships and their shields. During the first few missions it was discovered that most of the missiles would not properly detonate in space. While they had theoretically had everything they needed to work, the temperature in space was too low for them to work properly. However, this did not turn out to be a great disadvantage for the Nimrovs because the unexploded projectiles were greatly more effective against the Izanian battleship's shields.

Like most space vessel shields, the Izanian shields were designed to absorb energy. While they would occasionally encounter an asteroid or some other debris in space, they weren't designed for constant bombardment by metal objects. This design is invaluable against energy weapons like the human particle beam, but they are relatively ineffective against projectile weapons such as the weapons used by these humans. Perhaps the Izanian had never encountered a race that did not have energy weapons. They certainly did not anticipate the use of projectile weapons. It appeared that they had no defense against the very primitive Nimrov weapon systems. The Izanian shields were taking a pounding from these conventional weapons. More and more energy was required from the Izanian vessel to keep the shields operational. The Izanian shields had to absorb blow after blow from the missiles launched from the Nimrov fighter crafts.

The Izanians, who have never been flexible in their contingency plans, must not have anticipated the ability of this backwards race to become prepared for battle in such a short time. If they had given enough resources to this operation, they would have easily overwhelmed the unsophisticated Nimrovs. But, they did not do enough research on this particular race. They were ill prepared for the sophistication of even these simple weapon systems that these humans had. They sent a single battleship to face this backwards race, and they were paying the price.

The battle had gone on for several hours and there were numerous earth fatalities. There was much bravery on the part of several of the young earth pilots. One pilot by the Name of Everett James Douglass was the first to go on a mission that day. Eagle Douglass as he is called, was the number one pilot of his Nimrov class at the Air Force academy. He had a natural knack for flying and he would bring back his fighter "without a scratch," as he would say.

He used his skill to save several other pilots. Would fly in such a manner that the Izanians would try to shoot him with their beam weapons. Thus, this tactic was drawing the fire away from other ships. These Izanians could never quite figure out his flight tricks, and thus never hit him with their weapons. He flew more missions than any other pilot, but he was beginning to get tired.

As the battle drew on, the Earthers were beginning to exhaust their supply of missiles. If something with this battleship didn't happen soon, these Nimrovs would be in big trouble. They weren't losing any ground, so they continued with their tactics hoping that they were wearing down the aggressors.

The Humans were launching 30 minute sorties from their battleship. With each mission, the Izanians would fire the energy weapons less and less. This emboldened the Humans. They were very flexible in their tactics and tried many different approaches. They were removing the ineffective explosive core of their existing missiles and putting anything they could get into a missile's warhead. They were experiencing enough success that they began to determine which materials were the most effective against the battleships weakening shields. They were getting whatever material they could. They even began dismantling part of their reinforcement of their battleship to put into missiles.

After nearly a complete commonwealth day, the Izanian shields finally failed. As we all know, the energy systems of most ships are connected. Thus, if the shields fail, then all of the connected systems will fail. Thus, the humans had successfully disabled the vastly superior space vessel. It was floating in space with all of its energy systems down. The order went out from the Human command center to board the Izanian ship. Several pilots including Eagle Douglass docked with the ship to discover the usual Izanian contingent were on board. However, since this was their first encounter they were surprised to find only 2 Izanian on board. They had no idea that most of the ship's functions were entirely automated. The 2 well trained Izanian attempted to self-destruct the ship, but were totally unprepared for the tactics of these Nimrovs. Furthermore, they debated for too long whether to destroy the ship, and eventually the energy systems were off-line. Thus, the ship was going to be captured. Eagle and some of the other humans attempted to capture these two enemy combatants, but the well trained Izanians weren't going to be captured with their ship. They both pushed a button upon their uniforms and disintegrated in a puff of putrid orange smoke. Against all odds, the humans were victorious!

Their race's quick thinking and flexibility had defeated one of the most battle ready races that any of us has ever had contact. Soon, the news had traveled throughout their solar system. There was much rejoicing. They had successfully repelled an invasion fleet. They didn't know what was going to happen next, but they did take some time to celebrate their victory. They mourned the fallen, but savored their victory. I am sure they will be one of the biggest celebrators of the New Year and will never be late on their Commonwealth Nimroville celebration.

"Is that it? That can't be the end of the story!" stated Cram Nayawt.

"That will do nicely. It is even more than I expected. I will continue with my story over there where everyone can see and hear."

Essdy continued with his story.

The Izanian ship was towed to a Nimrov space station for study. Scientists from all over the Earth colonies came to discover the many secrets the ship held. Eagle Douglass was not only a top pilot, he was an excellent engineer. Thus, his excellent service in the battle allowed him to gain access to Izanian Battle cruiser. These Nimrovs could learn a great deal about advanced weapon systems, advanced composite materials, complicated computer systems, and many other things from this alien vessel.

They felt some urgency, as there could be other ships on the way. They didn't know when these would be coming, but certainly other ships were going to follow. They were at war with a technologically advanced society, and they had to work together if they were going to survive. They need to assemble more weapons, and prepare for another battle. They knew that their missile technology was effective, but could they assemble the resources before the Izanians returned? Would they be able to ward off a second attack?

The Izanians at the time had already claimed the Nimrov system as their own. The sent a message to the Commonwealth council that the Izanian would not tolerate any outside interference. Clearly, they either sent the message before the battle had even begun or it was an attempt to get more time to engage the Nimrov people. Thus, they would also try to stall the Nimrovs. This is why the Izanians sent a message to the Earth people that arrived shortly after the captured Izanian ship was docked at the Nimrov 4 space station. The message sent by Nek Nam Retek of the Izanian stated:

'Nimrov peasants! Do you like your cities? If you do, you should reconsider your actions against the mighty Izanian. A large fleet of our battle cruisers is currently on its way to your puny little civilization. We shall destroy all that you have built! We ask only that you return our property to us, and we shall leave you alone ... for now.'

'I'm guessing they want their ship back,' stated the President in an address to the congressional body. 'They may mean business, but since we do not speak that strange gestural language nor their verbal language, it is difficult to determine what steps we need to take to avoid further confrontation. So, we will continue as planned. Get our top guys on that ship and lets see what makes that thing tick.'

The Izanian message was sent to all of the top science teams. It was given top priority. Knowing the language, they believed, would strengthen their understanding of the technology of the vessel. One of the teams was under the guidance of an eminent Nimrov scientist named Michael Miller. His team included Eagle Douglass. It also included two of Eagle's closest friends, Laura Capitain and David "Sparky" Daniels. It was this team who noticed the translator signal included with the message. The Commonwealth translator message greatly aided in the translation of the hand gestures of the Commonwealth language. Once it was discovered, the linguists made short order of the two messages.

With the discovery of the messages came an urgency that the Izanian were going to return with a larger force. Thus, more resources were assigned to the study of the ship. If another fleet was on the way, they needed to learn as much as they could about the Izanians technology. They wanted shields and compact beam weapons to aid in their fight. Thus, with his significant computer skills, Eagle Douglass and Michael Miller's team were given more access to the computer systems. With the new knowledge of the Commonwealth language, Eagle and their team could use his expertise to gain whatever information they could from the Izanian computers. With Eagle's vast knowledge and eagerness, Dr. Miller stepped aside and gave Eagle full control of the team.

It took months for the top scientist to figure out miniscule bits of information on any of the systems. However, when they did gain some insight, this technology was instantly turned into advancements for Earth's one and only battleship. The colony on Nimrov 5's moon would have to wait. They had multiple teams and each team was assigned to the various Izanian systems.

With the many teams working hard, the greatest breakthrough was attributed to Eagle Douglass and his team. It was they who discovered the secrets stored in the Izanian computer system. Eagle created a complex computer program that would translate his commands into the commands that the Izanian computer could understand. He was amazed at how similar the two computer systems were at the machine language level. After months of fine tuning, Eagle got in. Once he gained access, Eagle was able to access the file system. The files could be then given to linguists who could attempt to translate the information stored within the computer system. Everyone hoped that this would lead to even more technology.

For their discovery, Eagle was awarded the highest medal that could be stowed upon one of its citizens. The United Nations of Earth's Congressional Medal of Honor was given to him for his work, but he missed the awarding ceremony. It was not important to him. What he wanted was to know more about the advanced computer technology and the advanced space systems on board the Izanian ship. He was working 14 hours a day on various projects for Nimrov Space agency. Plus, he was spending the rest of his waking hours learning about the Izanian. He was eating, sleeping, and breathing Izanian culture.

He was hoping that his hard work and sacrifice would lead to something better. He was hoping the space administration would grant him the privilege of captaining his own ship. After all, he knew more about every system on board the Izanian ship than anyone else. He believed he could put together a much better design than any proposed by the NASA engineers. However, the powers that be would not even let him get close to an Earth ship.

With all of the knowledge gained from the Izanian computer system, the Nimrovs were emboldened. They started making preparations for their own ships. There were several proposals for various ships. Scouts, frigates, cruisers, destroyers, and battleships were all designed in an effort to take on the Izanian threat. Work was done on the various designs, and the months would past. In fact, a few years past and the Izanian never came. The people of Earth wondered if that was that the end of the Izanian? Were there only a handful of members of their species? Were there so few, that they couldn't risk losing more? What was the nature of the Izanian?

Meanwhile, Eagle graduated at the top of his class at the Air Force Academy. He did have some trouble with a few teachers, but he always managed to land on his feet. As you may have guessed, he had a little bit of trouble with authority. He could play along to a point, but he liked being in charge. He often took charge in many situations like he did with the computer team. That was the kind of person he was.

He earned many rewards for his work. He was the most well known engineer on the planetary system. For his work he was given the rank of Ensign and assigned a post on the UNSS Douglass. It was the Nimrov's first scout ship. It was designed to explore the outer reaches of the Nimrov system. If they could manage it, they would go farther than any other Nimrov ship. Perhaps they would even leave the system entirely.

Just great!' Eagle bemoaned to his friend Laura. 'They name the damn thing after me, but I only get to steer it around.'

Eagle would often quote lines from common Nimrov entertainment. This is why he said what he did. Laura understood the quote, and thus her response was fitting.

Eagle continued, 'I'm not patient either!'

UNSS Douglass began cruising about their civilization's solar system. They were checking speed, acceleration, and other ship facilities. They were going farther than any other ship from Earth had ever gone. They explored all of their planets and other astronomical bodies.

They were at the edge of their Solar System when the ship's sensors picked up a strange phenomenon. It was a source of energy unknown to the humans. The captain ordered the pilot to enter the phenomenon. Eagle refused. He stated that this energy source is immense, and the shields will not be able to withstand that amount of energy. Eagle felt that at the very least, the shields should be dropped before entering the energy field. The commander of the ship disagreed and ordered the ship to be taken into the field with the shields on maximum. Eagle was ordered to stand down, and he refused this order also. He plotted a course back to the space station on Nimrov 4. Proceedings began immediately for Eagle's court martial. He was removed from his post until a complete investigation was made.

Laura Capitain, Eagle's girlfriend did not want to resign her commission, so she stayed aboard the UNSS Douglass. The Captain's first order of business was to return to the anomaly and explore it. Thus, before the trial was to begin, the UNSS Douglass returned to the edge of the Nimrov solar system.

Once at the edge of the solar system, the commander ordered the pilot to enter the energy field with the shields up and on maximum. Of course, it was a hyper gate. The UNSS Douglass was completely disabled as the hyper gate short-circuited all of the ships electrical systems. The shields could not absorb that much energy. Thus, the ship was dead in space. Fortunately, the dead ship did not set off the Izanian alert sensors. Perhaps if it had working power systems it would have set off these alarms.

However, without any working power systems the ship couldn't maneuver, and it couldn't return into the hypergate. These were brand new systems, and only a very few had a complete understanding of how they worked. However, these engineers were busy designing new ships and not on board the UNSS Douglass. Certainly, the engineers worked hard, but couldn't bring any of the systems back on line. They couldn't even communicate with the Nimrov space central. The ship was drifting in space with no power.

The ship eventually got caught in the outermost planet of the solar system on the far side of this hypergate. Once in this planet's gravity the disabled ship set off the alert sensors of the Izanian. Before the ship could crash onto the surface of the seventh planet, the Izanian defenses destroyed the ship with all hands killed.

A review of the incident exonerated Eagle. He was reinstated with all rights and privileges. However, he was totally disenchanted with the entire system and was making plans to leave Earth's solar system for good. He and a group of adventurers got together and manufactured their own ship. They were going to explore on their own without the blessings of the United Nations Government and without the approval of NASA.

To date, it was the only other major incident between the two civilizations. The Izanian could never muster the resources to return to the Nimrovian system. Of course, the Nimrovs had no intention of dealing with Izanian again. They would do everything in their power to avoid the Izanian. Thus, the 'war' ended in a draw.

However, Eagle had a ship to use for exploration. They would eventually become one of the new members of the Galactic Commonwealth. The Nimrovs are starting to make their mark, but they have a lot to learn yet. There are plenty of stories to tell, but this is the end of this one. Thank you for listening.

"Well spoken Yarnspinner! I'm satisfied. Thanks, but how do you know so much? Yarnspinner? Where'd he go?"

Journal Entry for 07:14:72 by Dr. Daniel C. Hever, PhD

George Mallory - lost mountain climber.

In 1924 C.E. (in Gregorian calendar) Sir George Mallory and a team of mountain climbers including Andrew Irvine attempted to reach the summit of the mighty Mt. Everest. Sir Mallory and Mr. Irvine did not leave the mountain with the rest of the team. They were lost and presumed dead, but nobody knows whether they made it to the summit.

It had been over 100 years since the recovery of George Mallory's body. It was in 1999 C.E. However, I don't feel like doing the conversion to our current metric calendar, so we'll leave it at about 100 years for now. Mallory was well preserved on the slopes of Mt. Everest, and he had been held in a frozen state since his body was retrieved off the slopes of Everest.

We will hopefully discover the truth about his adventure when he is revived. Did he make it to the summit? What happened on those frigid slopes so long ago? The process of bringing Mr. Mallory back from his suspended animation is nearly finished and he will be awakened in a matter of hours. We have done a great deal of research on the man and his culture to make the transition for Sir Mallory a smooth one.

There have been great technical advances made since the discovery of Sir Mallory's body. I think the biggest advance is in nanotechnology. Our civilization has created processes that can create microscopic robots. This has resulted in huge advances in medicine. Surgical repairs can be made at the cellular level. With this technology, we will revive the long dead Mallory. I can hardly wait for this process to finish.

As a first phase of this experiment we revived individuals from the 20th century. Although most of these individuals died many years after Mallory, we felt that we got a sense of what the culture was back those 100 years ago. From our readings and the information from these cryogenically frozen individuals, we believed we had a good feel for what it was like for Sir George Mallory. They brought us closer to culture of his time, and we could piece together more from other sources.

We were fortunate that several individuals in the 20th century had themselves cryogenically frozen to be revived later in time. Since these individuals were expecting to be awoken at a later time, the same precautions did not need to be made to make them feel they were in their own time. Many were pleased to be revived after many years of frigid hibernation.

Sadly, some former citizens of the 20th century (Gregorian calendar) did not provide a full body, but merely a head. Some of these were greatly disappointed when no suitable biological body would be provided. The building of a body from the DNA of a patient can be done; however in most instances no provisions were made for such a procedure. Further, constructing a body was a long and expensive procedure, and many of these individuals spent all of their money on the freezing process and the storage space. Thus, if someone was revived without an existing body, they often felt they were nothing more than a curious head in a jar. Cybernetic bodies could be provided, but many had difficulty controlling this body. However, these individuals did provide a wealth of information about the culture in and around their time of life.

It was this method that my team and I developed to study a wooly mammoth that we were to revive. The method of studying a subject from afar before revival we felt was a necessary step to lessen the impact of being thrust into the future. Before reviving a creature whether it was animal or human, we studied it with the use of scholarly texts as well as with nanocameras.

Along with the medical uses of these nanobots, this nanotechnology also allowed the creation of a wide variety of useful tiny machines. One such device was a tiny camera. These cameras had a myriad of uses, and not all of them were medical. While these cameras were larger than the medical nanobots, they were still about the size of an ordinary house fly. The extra size was due to the need for mobility and storage of information. However, the manufacturer often claimed that you could now be a fly on the wall. Please note that the use of such a device is highly regulated to prevent abuses.

Excerpt from Journal for 02:06:93 by Daniel C. Hever:

We have proposed a use for several new and existing technologies. First, we will use a widely used technology that was developed by me and my team. We will use existing nanotechnology to repair and revive this mammoth. This wooly mammoth will be gradually thawed in a therapeutic bath and repaired using the nanosurgeon robots. This will be done so this particular specimen can be studied thoroughly in its near natural environment. We have several goals in mind. Many scientists here would like to learn more about the behaviors of this species of animal. We feel that by reviving this creature, she will retain those behaviors and she will be suitable for study in that regard. Also, we would like to determine if she retains memories. In this way, this process could be used to study individuals and cultures that have been dead for many years.

Second, in order to fulfill this goal, we will need to use the nanocameras developed by AOENC, Inc. The cameras in question will be used to study this long extinct mammal that has been frozen in ice for thousands of years. In order to study this mammal in its original habitat, we will need to take advantage of a brand new technology developed by a team from the University of Montana and the University of Northern Iowa.

This third technology will be used to transport this camera back and forth in time. While this process takes a huge amount of energy to perform, we will benefit by studying the exact behavior of the animal in question. Thus, we can determine if the revived subject has the same memories and experiences. Thus, we believe we can learn more about the behaviors of this mammoth from the original beast rather than a facsimile or clone.

I have spoken to Dr. D. Max Wayne of the University of Montana and to Dr. Gogi Tee of the University of Northern Iowa, and they have tested their process on the "fly" camera. Their tests show that they can indeed view images and retrieve audio from previous times. In their tests they have obtained full color video of a few historic moments. With this time shifting technology and along with the cellular regeneration techniques provided by the nanobots, we believe we can learn much about the life of the wooly mammoth.

We have contacted AOENC, Inc. to customize the appearance of their camera to appear even more fly-like. This fly appearance will have a further benefit. The time travel apparatus causes an odd buzzing sound upon entering and leaving a specific time frame. Hence, if this buzzing was heard by a subject being studied, the fly look will help explain the sound.

With our slightly modified nanocamera we have filled out the proper paperwork for governmental approval. We feel that this experiment will have no impact on any timeline. Thus, I'm sure this process will meet governmental approval. If we are successful in our attempts, we plan on reviving other subjects and perhaps even humans. However, we will wish to learn as much about our subjects before reviving them. This will decrease the stress of the strange environment.

End excerpt.

In the above experiment, the wooly mammoth that had been frozen in ice for thousands of years, was revived after studying it in its own environment in time and space. An environment similar to her last known surroundings was synthesized in which to place the mammoth and study her. In previous experiments this particular mammoth had been cloned. However, these clones did not have the same experience as the actual mammoth. Thus, no presumptions of actual behaviors could be made. This was unsatisfying to many researchers.

The mammoth that we revived exhibited the same behaviors observed from the nanocameras. Thus, much could be determined about actual behaviors of this ice age beast. It was a very successful experiment. We believe that this creature retained its memories and experiences, and several tests were performed to help verify this hypothesis. Thus, we could learn a great deal about past cultures by reviving some frozen humans. We had three specimens with interesting questions surrounding them. We are currently studying our third subject, Sir Mallory. The other two experiments involving the frozen individuals turned out less successfully than we had hoped.

Excerpt from Journal for 04:12:43 by Daniel C. Hever:

From our experiments with the wooly mammoth, we believe that when an ancient creature or individual is revived, he/she/it will exhibit the behaviors observed from the nanocamera studies. Thus, we are fairly certain that this individual or creature will retain their memories and will behave as if they never died. It was as if they just went to sleep and then woke up and continued behaving as if living in its previous environment.

In order to prove this hypothesis, we will be studying a frozen man from the late Neolithic period. This man had been discovered in the Otztal Alps between Italy and Austria in the late 20th Century of the old calendar. There was much speculation on how the man came to die on the mountain. Some speculated that this "iceman" was a ritual sacrifice to the mountain. Others believed he was running away from combat and received an arrow in the back during his flight.

This is our first chance to make use of the sound recording possibilities of the nanocamera. We don't know what language our iceman speaks. We have some rough ideas, but the years have been many. We would like to know the exact language in order to make his transition to our time smoother.

We began our research by reading all of the sources that had been collected about our specimen. He had a few artifacts that had long been lost. There was much speculation about our subject, but this was merely speculation. We needed hard facts. Thus, we prepared the nanocameras to send back to the day that he died. From the sources, we had a pretty good idea where he laid down and die. We had to guess his path to his final resting place. We wanted to follow his last several minutes. We hoped to capture a ceremony if he had been sacrificed. In that way, we could capture some of his native language. We would also be able to better replicate his clothes and equipment.

Everything was going well until they sent their camera back to view events. We do not know for sure what happened to our camera, but it was destroyed before returning. I believe that the camera was ingested by a bird and destroyed. In order to prevent any other changes in the timeline, the government has insisted that no further cameras would be allowed back to that time frame. Thus, with the lack of information about our subject, I am afraid we should refrain from reviving him. We will move on to our next subject.

End excerpt

Excerpt from Journal for 04:76:58 by Daniel C. Hever:

Our next ice mummy which we wish to revive comes to our team from Siberia. This female was believed to be a spiritual leader of her people. If this were true, it would show the influence of females of her particular group. She was found with several artifacts and the team wanted to know more about her. While this individual had less information in the archives than our previous subject, she is not as ancient. Thus, we can make some very educated guesses. We have a better idea of her language, and some more information about her culture. However, we will need to verify this information before we revive this "Ice Maiden."

End excerpt.

Once again, we were unable to retrieve sufficient information about this subject. We had painstakingly determined the best place to put the camera. We had done plenty of calculations about which way to view and where to view. However, this camera was destroyed in a massive blizzard that one of the team members forgot to note. Without proper information about this individual and her surroundings the revival process was aborted and another opportunity lost to the team.

We had one subject left. We knew a great deal about this individual. Again, he was from a time much closer to our own. We knew what language he spoke. We could greatly replicate friendly surroundings for Sir George Mallory. Once and for all, we should be able to determine if he did indeed reach the summit of Mt. Everest. Also, we should learn the circumstances of his death.

It has taken several years of paperwork and study in order for this day to come. Our past failures have made the government reluctant to issue the necessary permits to send the nanocameras back to study our subject, Sir Mallory. However, with much coaxing they have allowed us to send one camera back. However, early on it was decided to revive Sir Mallory even without any video footage. There had been much written about him that survived. We spoke a common language. While our cultures are separated by a great deal of time, we feel that this shouldn't be a great concern.

We accomplished much in our studies. We did send our fly-like camera back onto Everest and successfully retrieved some data. However, we did not see Sir Mallory or his climbing partner Mr. Andrew Irvine. All that was seen was the mountain side and all that was heard was a howling wind. While there was an eerie stillness in the area, we were greatly disappointed in the findings from our time traveling camera. We are sure that Sir Mallory will be comfortable in our provided surroundings. We should be able to determine much from him. I am heading to Sir Mallory's room now. I will fill out a full report for the University when our conversation has ended.

End entry.

"Test. Test. Is this thing on? Hello? Test. Test. This is Dr. Daniel Hever recording. Sir George Mallory is about to be revived, and we are here to record his statements as they happen. The only voices you'll be hearing are mine and Sir Mallory's. Quiet please. Let's begin?"

"Sir Mallory? Wake up. Sir Mallory?"

"Huh? What are you Yanks doing here? Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital; you had a bit of a fall."

"Bloody hell! Tell me about it mate! It was the darnedest thing! There I was at 8200 meters. Bloody thing could have been the end of me!"

"What thing? What happened?"

"As I said mate, I was there at 8200 meters hanging on for my life. Good things you Yanks came along, or I would have likely froze to death. Where's Andrew?"

"Sir Mallory, you were saying? You were at 8200 meters hanging on for your life, and then what happened?"

"Sandy's a right good chap. He must have fetched you directly. Good bloke that Andrew. Where is he?"

"Andrew Irvine? I'm not sure where he is, but please Sir Mallory, tell us what happened."

"Right, right, I was at 8200 meters. What is that? That's about 27,000 feet to you Yanks. Anyway, it was the darnedest thing! I was up in the thinness of the atmosphere, just climbing like always, and there it was. Out of nowhere! It was suddenly there! Out of nowhere I tell you!"

"What was there? What came out of nowhere?"

"A bloody fly! At 8200 meters! I was hanging on for my life, struggling with the thin atmosphere, and this bloody buzzing fly popped out from nowhere! Scared the wits right out of me. I fell quite a ways! Good thing you Yanks showed up, or I'd be dead for sure!"

"Uhhh thanks Sir Mallory. You get some rest and we'll continue this later. Turn the recorder off please!"

I had just hidden my time machine when one of Marius' soldiers spotted me. Not knowing what else to do, I began to run. However, I knew I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was on horseback, and I couldn't outrun his horse. Thus, he quickly fell upon me, and I was captured.

This soldier looked for the slave trader that traveled with Marius' army, and he sold me to him for 4 sesterces. I was in big trouble now. I was going to live the old clich', "while in Rome do as the Romans."

Along with thousands of others, I was herded south. We marched until we reached Naples where there was a large slave-trading establishment.

Once we arrived at the slave trading place, we were all stripped naked and cleaned up. We were all separately interviewed to discover our talents. Unfortunately, I speak neither the language of the Cimbri, nor of the Teutones. I only speak a small amount of Latin, but not enough to effectively communicate. They certainly didn't have anyone that spoke English. Pig Latin was also of no use. So, communication was difficult. They kept repeating a phrase, but I have no idea as to its meaning. They give me the name of Caprimulgus. I don't know what that means, but I hope it is a good label.

We were herded into another room, and the preparations for our sale were completed. Our feet were painted white with chalk. An order of auction was arranged, and I was placed after a young Cambric boy who they gave the name of Eros. There were lots of people that were sold before they got to me. Some of them had the same name Caprimulgus, so I got a little worried.

I decided to do something to indicate some of my skills since communication during the interview process was negligible. There was a tree nearby, so I grabbed some branches with the intent of building a makeshift piece of furniture. I'm a fair wood worker, and I'd rather do that than be purchased for the gladiatorial games.

The bidding for Eros went for quite a long time. He went for a pretty high price. I was beginning to wonder why I was set up behind him. I certainly wasn't going to fetch that high a price. I think the phrase that they used to describe me was compelling enough to think that I would be valuable.

I fashioned a makeshift couch from the few twigs I gathered. It wasn't anything special, but it was enough to show them that I had some woodworking skills. It surprised the auctioneer, but he went along with it. I hoped that this little item would ensure that I wouldn't be sold into gladiatorial service. I'm too old to be an effective fighter. My reflexes are significantly slower than they were 10 years ago. I wouldn't last long as a gladiator.

The bidding went back and forth for quite a while. I was greatly surprised. I think my makeshift twig couch was making a difference. They could see that I had a skill, and I could be put to good use. Eventually, I was sold to a well to do furniture maker. I was grateful to not have to go with a large portion of these captives to be trained as gladiators. Some of them may make a large amount of money, but it wasn't the life for me.

The furniture maker made luxurious furniture to be sold to the senatorial and equestrian classes of Rome. His furniture was of very fine quality, and he was renown throughout Rome as the premiere furniture maker. I felt very lucky joining such a prestigious furniture maker in Naples. He also bought a young woman to help with the housework. She was very striking, and I wonder how his wife will react to this purchase.

At first I was assigned the task of building tables. I'm a decent wood worker, but I'm used to having modern tools. I would have done wonders if I had my woodshop with me. However, I had to work with the equipment available. I was still handy with the hand tools.

I knew that if I worked hard and crafted desirable furniture, I could earn my freedom rather quickly. So, I painstakingly crafted each piece I was assigned and I made some items on my own. Since our furniture was greatly desired throughout the republic, we sold numerous pieces and were very successful.

As the months past, I learned more and more Latin and some of the local dialect. I also learned more about my passage into slavery. One thing I did finally learn was the phrase they kept repeating at the slave interview. The interviewer kept saying "He must be an expert on animal husbandry. Look how fat he is!" Thus, they named me Caprimulgus or "Goat-milker" with designs on selling me as a shepherd.

I've never lived on a farm, and I don't have a lot of experience with animals. I don't know how long I would have lasted in the country. I'm certain that anyone who would have purchased me with those designs would have been greatly disappointed.

The man who purchased my services was named Gaius Libertus Lignarius. He had multiple ex-slaves who were paying him commission. He was earning a lot of money with all of the artisans under his tutelage. He wasn't a Roman citizen, and he very much wanted to be. He was very prosperous, and he hadn't actually made any furniture himself for quite a while. If he were given citizenship he would have easily been a member of the Equestrian order.

He lived on a large estate on the hills of Naples. Naturally, it was well furnished. Occasionally, he would invite his free tradesmen up for dinner. Those of us that hadn't purchased our freedom yet were hired to serve some of the dinner guests. Generally, we would only serve the freedmen. His regular staff would serve the more respected guests.

Several Roman Senators had lands in Campania. He often had dinner at their estates. Often in these instances, he was the one served by the less competent waiters. However, many times he would bring a reclining couch as a gift. We made some of the best in the Roman world. He would insist on dining on this couch in order to make sure it was "up to standards." Thus, he would at least dine in comfort. Often times, it was the finest reclining couch that the host had. Thus, it was odd to have the finest furniture in the rear of the dining area. This often brought notice of others. Thus, in order for his host to less foolish, he began to move up in rank. These hosts wanted the finest furniture at the front for all to see. Thus, Libertus would gain in rank simply because of the nature of his fine gifts.

I lived in a small loft above the shop. It was on the third floor, and it was rather small. Another slave with more experience lived in the apartment below. Since I was in the furniture business, I could spend my time furnishing it as I pleased. Thus, although it wasn't a great place to live, it was nicely furnished. The building had a distinct lean towards the street. You had to take care in which direction you slept otherwise the blood might rush to your head by morning.

After furnishing my place, I started to save my peculium, which is extra money, to earn my freedom. In the years after Marius' victories, our products were in great demand. Every battle abroad brought more wealth to a few citizens. They would use some of this wealth to purchase luxury items. Thus, we had plenty of demand for our products.

After working for Libertus for 5 years, I earned enough to buy my freedom. He agreed to grant my freedom with the agreement to pay him a percentage of my pay. It was a pretty standard agreement. He found a location a short distance from his shop to establish my shop. This time, I would live in the first floor above the shop. I agreed to house a few of his slaves in the upper floors. This reduced the amount I had to pay him.

At this time, I thought about changing my name to something more appropriate to my profession, but it had grown on me and I decided to keep it. Besides, my reputation was built upon my unusual name for a carpenter. However, as was somewhat traditional for freed men to take on the name of their emancipator, I became Caprimulgus Liberius.

The five years after purchasing my freedom were successful. The demand for Naples furniture came from other places besides Rome. Furniture from Naples was sold to the King of Parthia and to the Egyptian royal family. Throughout the civilized world, people looked for furniture built by us.

I was making an excellent living, and I even considered purchasing some slaves to help out in my shop. However, there was growing unrest in the Republic and it was affecting our trade. Some of the allies of Rome felt they were being treated unfairly. Libertus was one who felt that he should be considered for full citizenship. His requests in this area were regularly denied.

Revolts became regular occurrences. The Samnites in Campania revolted, and the trade routes between Naples and Rome were cut off. Soon, most of Campania had separated from Rome. The Samnites established themselves as a separate state. With all this unrest, it wouldn't be a good time to increase production.

Being non-Roman I had a few advantages. Since I had earned a great deal of money up to this point and I had an excellent reputation, I could begin looking at my options. One of the things that I considered was to find my time machine and return home. However, it had been many years and I was quite happy with the way my life was going. I also wasn't too concerned about joining Roman society and I still did things in my own way. My attitude about things was far different than many Romans.

I felt that my shop was too close to Libertus' ship. He had some individuals who were ready to purchase their freedom, so I sold my shop and apartment back to Libertus. With this money and some that I had saved, I was able to purchase a small plot of land in a bit of a nicer part of the city. This parcel of land that I purchased used to hold a shop, but it had burned to the ground. Since the furniture business was suffering, I decided to construct the new shop and home by myself. I had enough to purchase the materials. I had saved enough to take the time build a new building.

It took a while to build the building on my own, but in the end it was worth it. My building was just going to have a small shop and living quarters above. I couldn't quite afford an estate, but I would be more comfortable in the new building.

Shortly after I finished, Lucius Cornelius Sulla began his consulship to take back Campania. Sulla punished many of the Samnite rebels. Unfortunately, Libertus was labeled one of the Rebels. He went into hiding, but was betrayed by a slave. He was crucified along the road to Rome to teach the Samnites a lesson. This released me of all of my former obligations, but it cost me several fine pieces of furniture to remain alive. I am glad that I was able to communicate at this point. Otherwise, I certainly would have been put to death as well.

With Libertus dieing in disgrace, that hurt my business with Rome. However, Egypt and other wealthy foreign customers turned to me and the other former slaves of Libertus for their business, but this didn't mean a lot of business.

With the strife in the Republic during this time, furniture purchases were way down, and when the Sulla's proscriptions started, furniture sales took a turn for the worse. I wasn't pleased with Sulla killing off well to do Roman citizens. They were my core business. However, I didn't voice any opposition.

Perhaps it was a time to look for other work. Marcus Crassus was purchasing slaves in the field of home construction. I could sell myself back into slavery to him. My house and shop turned out pretty nice, and it was well thought of in the neighborhood. Thus, I thought about taking the trip to Rome, but the violence there was too great. I figured if I could stick it out, business would pick up. I also started building more modest pieces for the locals. However, I couldn't do this alone.

There was a slave auction, and I decided to see what was available. Some of the Samnite civilians were being sold into slavery. There were lots of women and children on the blocks. I purchased a slave woman to work in the front of my store. She would give me the opportunity to concentrate more on my construction.

She wasn't particularly attractive, but she was quite competent in terms of running a store and a home. She didn't cost a great deal, so I think she was a very good deal. She was a decent cook, and quite a loving person. We grew very close, and eventually, she became pregnant with my first child. Before he was born, I freed her and married her. We wed on the day Marius died. Shortly after that day, our free son was born. He was called Marcus Caprimulius Liberius.

With Marius dead, tensions were somewhat relaxed. Sulla killed off a great deal of the Aristocracy. However, Soldiers with newfound wealth and property began ordering luxurious furniture again. Thus, business began to pick up. The aristocracy in Rome was once again noticing my services. I built several pieces for Crassus. He wanted furniture to put in some of the real estate that he had been acquiring.

Crassus began to demand more and more furniture. Thus, I looked for purchasing more artisans. I began to frequent the slave auctions. I managed to purchase a few Greek artisans. They were very expensive, but they were well worth it. They had skills already, and I could steer them towards the style my customers had grown accustomed.

I began to have more time for leisure. So, I began to take more time to visit the gladiatorial games. I was beginning to bring in a lot of money. I didn't have enough money to sit in the front, but I was able to sit in decent seats. I wondered how some of the slaves that were sold on the same day that I was faired in the games.

I found that I was becoming more Roman. I enjoyed the games, and I started to look towards eating out more. I had more internal pressure to act more Roman and to shed my strange future ways.

When Sulla retired to Campania, he also purchased some furniture from my shop. I was once again one of the premiere furniture makers in Rome. People throughout the Republic began to seek me out for fine furniture.

I began to go to more and more slave auctions trying to keep up with demand. I allowed some artisans their freedom with the same agreement I had with Libertus. They would pay me a commission on everything they sold. I used the money from their purchase of freedom to purchase more slaves.

I hoped the tensions between the government and the armies would soon subside. It was much better for my business to have internal stability. However, this was not to be. Marcus Aemilius Lepidus decided to march on Rome with his army, and Gnius Pompanius Magnus was given the task to put down his rebellion.

Things were good when the armies fought external forces. The army would take wealth from others and have purchasing power to buy our goods. However, whenever there was internal fighting, a large number of wealthy men ended up dead. This is very bad for business.

Luckily, Sulla didn't march on Rome. We didn't need any more aristocratic bloodshed. However, his campaign in Spain was disastrous. With Luculus in Asia Minor, and Pompey having troubles in Spain, a revolt of country slaves took place.

My men were happy with their lot. They were well fed, and they had a place to live. They earned plenty of money, and could purchase their freedom at any time. Thus, they weren't on the side of Spartacus. I offered them their freedom if they wished it. I turned 66, and the years had taken their toll upon me. I didn't need some slaves rebelling against me. They unanimously decided to continue working in my shop.

I had a pretty good amount of money built up. I purchased a modest estate for my children to live. My wife was several years my junior, and she gave me 3 strong boys. They would continue on with my work once I was gone. I made sure all of my possessions were divisible by three. I had 6 slaves working for me, and I had 15 paying commission. It was agreed that they would continue to pay my heirs upon my death.

It is hard to believe that I lived in Ancient Rome for 30 years. The estate I purchased needs a lot of work. In my youth I would have started from scratch. However, I just don't have the energy. The boys are too young to fix the house, and it is drafty. I long for my old apartment above the shop. Even with its lean it was at least warm.

I am trying to fix up this place, but my age prevents me from several activities. I can't scramble up a ladder like I used to. This cough just won't go away. So, I have decided to return to my time machine. I have a feeling that I don't have much longer to live. I have family and friends here, so I won't be returning myself. However, I hope to send the machine back with this report. My English is quite rusty, and I'm sure my penmanship needs a lot of work. However, I feel that I should try to send this report back through. Thus, people there will know what happened to me.

This cough will not go away, I there was something I could do. My guess is that I caught pneumonia. I'm glad that my time machine was undisturbed. This long walk back to it took a lot out of me. I'm afraid that I won't be able to return to Naples. That trip would be just too much for me. I hope you get this report without any difficulty. I think I'll wonder off in the mountains and spend my last days there. I wonder how much impact my life will have. I've got a few great kids, and I had a good life in the Roman Republic. Farewell everyone!

To Whom It May Concern:

We have always been a warring race. We could never get along with our neighbors, and we are about to pay the ultimate price. You see, I am one of the premiere scientists of our people. The last few years I have forsaken the warrior ways and have concentrated on space travel. Our planet does not have long. The launch will happen shortly, and I do not have a lot of time.

10 years ago, I created a "Doomsday" weapon. This weapon was very dangerous, and it was a weapon of last resort. It was a weapon that would destroy our world and everyone on it. When I designed it, I believed it would be used only as a deterrent. This weapon was most destructive and there is nothing that can stop it. It was a masterful method of destruction.

In fact, it bought us 3 years of peace. Those were three glorious years. I believed that there was no more reason to pursue methods of killing. This is when I began looking into other careers. There was not much money to be had outside the military. I considered going back to the University, but my bosses would not let me. I knew too much, and they would sooner see me dead. We may have been at peace, but there were still dangers.

I had always been interested in astronomy and space flight. It is what brought me into science in the first place. I was intrigued by our sister planet. It was so blue. I remember hearing about the interesting creatures that inhabited our neighbor. It had long been suspected that we could live on that planet. I had often dreamed of visiting that far off world.

As part of my job and in my spare time, I researched rocketry. Our people used rockets for missiles. Since I had top security clearance, I had access to much research. I tinkered with various designs in during my off hours. That was a peaceful three years.

A breakdown in security changed everything. Suddenly, we were not the only people with my doomsday weapon. Another group got the weapon and threatened to use it. Apparently, they did not comprehend the power of the weapon. They ignorantly believed that this terrible weapon would be useful in a limited way. Thus, they restarted the wars.

Before our warring ways we lived on a lush and green planet. Our planet was very much like our neighboring planet is now. Under its blue exterior, it is green and full of life. There were still pockets of thick greenery like my beloved house and garden, but those are all gone now because of our ignorant use of our brains. The destruction of our planet was senseless.

We were once a thriving people. The other countries that shared our world were also thriving. The few years of peace revived portions of our war torn world. Some of our cities were on the mend. Some places were becoming green instead of being red with the blood of our citizens. We threw all that away.

There are no cities on our neighboring planet. We will have to find a place to live somewhere in its wild areas. It looks like there are vast stretches that are completely habitable. We will just have to pick one. Perhaps we will just go where the computer takes us.

Soon their will be nothing left on our planet. The red dust is taking over everything. It is red like dirt soaked in blood. That is what my weapon did. It would break everything down and turn it into a fine red dust. Nothing can stop it. I guess the irony that they used it so close to their own boarder should be somewhat satisfying. The wind blew it towards them, and everything they had built was soon destroyed. The weapon has almost run its course, as there was little left that was not turned into that awful red dust.

I hope our blue neighbor has rich soil. I long for black dirt. I long for the days when we had a fine garden. My wife and I had not started a family. We did not want our kids to live with the daily threat of war. We are both still young, so if it is feasible on our new home that we will have children.

When the wars started up again, my hobby engulfed me. I felt that our only hope would be to colonize our friendly neighbor. I planned to have an exploratory mission to scout out places to colonize. Once this awful weapon was unleashed, I had to scramble just to get the rocket ready. It is too bad that I could not fit more individuals on the rocket. When I originally designed it, it was only meant for one with enough cargo for a return trip. However, with the removal of some of the cargo space, I can now save my wife and myself.

Our home here felt like paradise during peaceful times. It was lush and my wife was an excellent gardener. We had all of our wants taken care of. Our property had plenty of fruit trees and the eastern portion of the garden provided a great bounty. It was full of trees that were pleasant in sight and good for food. A river flowed through their garden that was quite pleasant. This river provided water and fish. We were fortunate to have that place.

The river is now gone. It is a red dusty riverbed now. The trees are gone too. The destruction of our world is nearly complete. Why are we such a warring people? People have been saying for years that our warrior ways will be the end of our planet. Why didn't we listen? Why couldn't we live in peace?

I was a University professor when we bought our place. I was not making a lot of money, but we were getting by. However, my wife wanted more. She spoke with an awful man. I rue the day that she spoke to that serpent, I mean person. He spoke of great wealth that I could gain from using my knowledge. He lured me into that life with his ways.

I developed several weapons for this man. He paid me well, but I now feel bad about the evil that I have unleashed. Once my terrible weapon was unleashed, they could not stop me from quitting. However, the damage had already been done. I would spend all my time getting ready to save my wife and myself. What a terrible thing I have done! I am responsible for the great destruction of our world. I did bring us a few years of peace, but that is of little comfort.

Now my beautiful place is gone. The trees are all dust. I had to leave my home and we must flee before it is too late. We will have to live with our decisions. Luckily, we have a place to run. There must be other civilizations that go extinct because they have no place to go. They simply destroy all that they build and no being knows they ever existed. It is probably too late, but I hope our children learn from our mistakes.

That is why I am writing this. Someday, someone will discover what we have done. I just hope our warring ways are through. I hope we can learn to live in peace and harmony. We are all the same. We all have the same wants, hopes, and desires. We all want what is best for our children. We all want to feel safe where we live. We cannot do that with the wars. We can only do it by learning to get along with our neighbors. If they do us wrong, we must forgive. Otherwise, we begin a great cycle of destruction.

I must run. The red dust is quickly encroaching. The rocket is ready and my wife is aboard. I hope I have not dallied too long. The last non-red spot is where the rocket will launch, and that spot is getting smaller all the time. I must dash. Eve and I will make the best of our new home after being cast out of paradise. Please forgive me for eating from the tree of knowledge and using it for evil. Do not be like us!

Yours faithfully,

Adam

The year was 2138 C.E. and the sun was bombarding the earth with an unusually large amount of cosmic radiation. Furthermore, Gamma Radiation from the nearby Hasenpfeffer Nebula began reaching the Earth. This year also saw Haley's comet returning for its 76th year visit. It was the year that a probe landed upon the surface of this icy comet to study it. Unfortunately when this probe returned to earth, it was lost in the Pacific Ocean. This was the year that the Yucca Mountain Nuclear Waste facility had a minor problem and irradiated some local wildlife. In addition, many of the existing members of the mutant and super hero population began having children. Yes, 2138 saw a huge increase in the number of super heroes.

It was a major concern among many citizens of the towns and cities of the world. Once there were a couple dozen super heroes helping protect major metropolises. Now, small towns and rural areas may have the protection of a group of extraordinary individuals. There just wasn't enough crime and super villainy to go around. Something had to be done. Thus, the world leaders got together to look for a solution.

After much debate, and objection by a particular super hero, it was decided to convert Ultra-Keen Guy's "Citadel of Reclusiveness" at the South Pole into a city of super heroes, by super heroes, for super heroes. Then they realized that Cleveland had long been abandoned, and decided that would be a much better place. It was decided that the government was going to create a brand new city where superheroes could live in peace and harmony, and that city would be called "Supervania!"

Many of the world's super hero and super hero families moved to the city of Supervania. They were hoping for a better life without the scorn and ridicule of the non-cape wearing and unmasked citizenry. However, without the prospect of an occasional super villain uprising, there was not much for these trained crime fighters to do. Thus, it was decided to create a few evil ninja cyborgs to keep the superhero crime fighting skills sharp.

However, because of a computer malfunction and a programming bug, these evil ninja cyborgs would not fight against their superhero foes. These beings created for the sole purpose to oppose the actions of the superhero citizenry of Supervania would not partake in any fiendish endeavor. They instead opened up shops and stores inside the Supervania city limits. They turned away from their former lives of crime and mischief and decided to become lawful business owners.

To counteract the lawfulness of the created evil ninja cyborgs, the world governments began sentencing the worst criminal minds to become evil ninja cyborgs. Thus, the prisons were being emptied and the government was creating more and more evil ninja cyborgs. However, these former criminals still would not rise up against their superhero overlords and would simply opened up more and more businesses.

Further, do to perceived discrimination and unfair competition from the superhero community; the evil ninja cyborgs began to form support groups. At these meetings they would discuss the oppression they felt from the government and the superhero community. Eventually, the businesses of these support groups began to band together to better compete with the superhero businesses. With this new found unity, their businesses began working together and gaining more and more wealth and power.

Under the direction of their Head Ninja L. Edward Roy, an increasing number of small evil ninja cyborg businesses began working together. In direct competition with the superhero community, more and more services would be offered by their evil ninja cyborg counterparts. L. Edward Roy would gather resources and purchase businesses throughout the world. Eventually this loosely knit group of unrelated businesses became a large conglomeration which became America's Original Evil Ninja Cyborg Incorporated.

After a few years, America's Original Evil Ninja Cyborg (AOENC) Inc. became the largest corporation in the world. There was not a business venture around that did not have an evil ninja cyborg competitor. There was AOENC Records Ltd., AOENC Video Productions, AOENC Dry Cleaning Services, and on and on. With each passing year, the government office in charge of evil ninja cyborg creation (OCOENCC) would transform criminals into evil ninja cyborgs. The evil ninja cyborg working population was becoming immense.

Eventually, these evil ninja cyborgs began running most of the shops and stores in Supervania. Once AOENC Inc. ran most of the businesses in Supervania, tensions began to rise between the evil ninja cyborg shop owners and the citizens of Supervania. Furthermore, there weren't enough jobs to employ all of the created evil ninja cyborgs. Some of these unemployed evil ninja cyborgs would enjoy causing trouble for the Supervanian citizenry. This is when the fighting between the two groups began in earnest.

It started with evil ninja cyborg teenagers just looking for some "kicks." The evil ninja cyborg residents of Supervania chalked it up to "kids being kids." However, the superheros of Supervania didn't see it that way.

"These over exuberant youths are harassing the fair citizens of our city," proclaimed the superhero spokesperson, Spokeswoman. "Up with this we shall not put!" she continued.

The tensions between the two groups began to rise. Clashes between the two groups became more common. Suddenly, Supervania became the town that the superheroes and the world government had all hoped.

It started off as a normal day for the Mayorman, mayor of Supervania. He arrived at his office early in the morning and was taking on the business of running the city of Supervania. He was doing some work at his desk in the Auditorium of Equitableness when in rushed Anonymous Man. It was obviously important, and Anonymous Man spoke in an urgent tone. "Mr. Mayor, have you been on the streets lately? All traffic in and out of Supervania is at a stand still! Something must be done!"

Mayorman responded, "We are aware of the problem, and we are looking into the solution now. All we can do now is hope that this situation is resolved soon. However, dealing with evil ninja cyborgs can be quite tricky. And we don�t want a major disaster on our hands."

"It is the work of the Traffic Jammer isn�t it?" asked Anonymous Man

"We believe so," replied Mayorman.

"Flannel Man put him away before, couldn�t he do it again?" asked the persistent Anonymous Man.

"We hope so. However, we are having trouble locating him."

Mayorman gazed out the window again. He clearly saw the Flannel Man signal in the sky among the signals in the sky. He indicated it to Anonymous Man. "He hasn�t responded to the Flannel signal yet. Until he does, the citizens of Supervania are in for a rough ride."

"Well, I hope he gets here soon," complained Anonymous Man. "I have got lots of work to do."

"We all do," replied the mayor as he showed Anonymous Man out. "We all do."

Anonymous Man left the mayor's office and Mayorman's assistant, The Assistant, entered his office.

"Any word on Flannel Man?" inquired the mayor.

"I am afraid not," replied the mayor's assistant. "However, a package has arrived for him. It appears to be from SANTA."

The Mayor jumped up with alarm. "The Silent Acting Ninja Terrorist Association?" he asked with concern.

"I am afraid so," replied The Assistant.

"This day is getting worse and worse," bemoaned Mayorman. "Well, put the package in Bomb Depot number 3, and let's hope we hear from Flannel Man soon."

The Assistant took the package with great care down to Bomb Depot number 3. The package was placed in a lead lined box on a large pedestal in the middle of the smallish bomb disposal room.

Meanwhile, back at Flannel Manor, Flannel Man was pacing back and forth. Obviously, Flannel Man was anxiously awaiting something. "When in the name of little green apples, is that mail going to get here?" he asked himself.

Suddenly and without warning, there was a knock on the door. Somewhat relieved, Flannel man made his way to his front door. He peaked through the Flannel Peep Hole and asked, "Who is it?"

"It is I, Postman, deliverer of all mail!" replied the man on the other side of the door.

Finally, his letter carrier, Postman, had arrived. "Great, I have been waiting for you," responded Flannel Man as he opened the door.

"Flannel man, what are you doing here?" asked Postman as Flannel Man opened the door. "The Traffic Jammer is on the loose again, and Mayorman has been trying to get a hold of you. Didn�t you see the Flannel signal?"

Postman, deliverer of all mail, searched among the many signals in the sky. Eventually, he spotted the Flannel signal and pointed it out to Flannel Man. "I can�t go out until I get my package," replied the anxious Flannel Man. "I sure hope you have it."

"Just letters today," replied the letter carrier. "No packages. What is so important?"

"I can�t talk about it," Flannel Man Complained. "Thanks for the mail."

"You're welcome," stated Postman, deliverer of all mail. Suddenly, he gave Flannel Man a hug. He could no longer resist. Postman felt better and continued with his letter carrying duties. Flannel man didn't feel any better as he closed the door. With a worried expression on his face, he tossed the mail on his coffee table. He headed for the phone to call the Auditorium of Equitableness.

"Hello," started the distressed superhero. "This is Flannel man, may I speak to Mayorman please."

Mayorman had been pacing in front of his desk. He was eagerly waiting to hear word from Flannel Man. Suddenly, The Assistant rushed into the room. "Flannel man on line 2!!!"

"Thank Goodness!" sighed the mayor. Mayorman walked over to his desk and picked up the pone. "It is about time you checked in Flannel Man! The Traffic Jammer has escaped and is reeking havoc all over town. We need your help in recapturing him."

"Sorry boss, but I can�t help," replied Flannel Man. "I won�t leave the house until I get the package I am expecting. It was supposed to come today, but it hasn�t."

Mayorman sat down dejectedly at his desk, but when Flannel Man mentioned the package he perked up. "A package came here for you today..."

"Send it over, and I will be on the job!" exclaimed Flannel Man.

"We believe it is from SANTA," explained the mayor. "So, couldn�t you come here and check it out?"

"No can do boss," responded Flannel Man. "Although, the package I am expecting is from SANTA. I ordered something from their winter catalog. It should be from America�s Original Evil Ninja Cyborg Flannel Incorporated. I won�t leave home until I have it."

"We will get it to you as soon as we can. But with traffic the way it is, it may be a while. We will keep you posted," he told Flannel Man. He hung up the phone and then spoke to The Assistant. "We need to get Flannel Man�s package to him, before he will take on the Traffic Jammer. Get a team together, and let�s get on it. Just another fine day in..."

Mayorman and his assistant, The Assistant, made their way down to the 6 by 6 foot bomb depot number 3. Mayorman paced back and forth while The Assistant sat down at a table to look at the package. "We need to get this package across town. This looks like a job for..."

"Dirk Justice!!!" exclaimed Dirk Justice as walked into Bomb Depot Number 3. "Can I be of any help here?"

"Just in time Dirk," Mayorman stated. "Traffic is backed up all over town. The whole city is at a stand still. Flannel Man is the only super hero that can put a stop to the Traffic Jammer�s evil ways. However, Flannel Man won�t leave his house without this package. We need it taken to Flannel Mansion immediately. Can you help us?"

"I wish I could," explained Dirk. "But the Cycle of Justice can�t get through this traffic either."

"Drat!" shouted the mayor. "Well then, I guess this looks like a job for..."

"Teleportation Man!!!" exclaimed Teleportation Man as he walked into Bomb Depot Number 3.

"Just in time Teleportation Man," Mayorman stated. "Traffic is backed up all over town. The whole city is at a stand still."

"Flannel Man is the only superhero that can put a stop to the Traffic Jammer�s evil ways," added Dirk Justice.

"However, Flannel Man won�t leave his house without this package," continued Mayorman while picking up the ordinary package. "We need it taken to Flannel Mansion immediately."

"Can you help us?" they all asked together.

"I will see what I can do," Teleportation Man boldly stated.

Teleportation man placed his hands to his head and closed his eyes. He attempted to mentally transport the package to the Flannel Mansion. "Hold on a second!" exclaimed Teleportation Man coming out of his trance. "It�s wrapped in brown paper. That is my only weakness. I cannot teleport anything in brown paper."

"Foiled again!" Mayorman yelled. "These evil ninja cyborgs don�t miss a trick! I guess it looks like a job for..."

"The Rubber Band!!!" exclaimed Mr. and Mrs. Rubber and their two kids Renee and Randy as they walked into Bomb Depot Number 3 to join Teleportation Man, Mayorman, Dirk Justice and The Assistant.

"Just in time Rubber Band," Mayorman stated. "Traffic is backed up all over town."

"The whole city is at a stand still," Teleportation Man continued.

"Flannel Man is the only superhero that can put a stop to the Traffic Jammer�s evil ways," Dirk justice added.

"However, Flannel Man won�t leave his house without this package," Mayorman injected while lifting up the ordinary package wrapped in brown paper.

"We need it taken to Flannel Mansion immediately!" Teleportation Man exclaimed.

"Can you help us?" they all asked.

"Rubber band, to action!!!" the Rubber Family yelled in unison.

As if they had done it repeatedly, Mr. and Mrs. Rubber hug. At the same time, the brother and sister, Randy and Renee, hug. In each embrace, the pair twisted and joined together. As if on cue, the two twisted Rubber family units joined together. Once the family had all joined together, they began to stretch into a very long Rubber family unit. In this configuration, Mr. Rubber picked up the package and carried it away. Much wriggling and stretching went on as they stretched and lengthened. Tighter and tighter their form became. Longer and longer their stretching went. When they were about a block from the Flannel Mansion, they stopped. They brought the package back, and untwisted. Looser and looser their form became. Shorter and shorter their stretching went. At one point, the one stretchy unit broke into two groups. Randy and Renee exited their embrace shortly before Mr. and Mrs. Rubber. As if nothing happened, they became the Rubber family again.

"Sorry Mr. Mayor," Mr. Rubber lamented. "It is just too far for us to reach."

"We did what we could," Mrs. Rubber added. "But it was just too much of a stretch for us."

"Curses foiled again!" shouted the Mayor. "I wonder if anyone here in Bomb Depot Number 3 could put a stop to the Traffic Jammers villainy. We need to find out how Flannel Man did it, and this looks like a job for..."

"The Dugman and his faithful compatriot Hyper Hank!" exclaimed Dugman as he and his trusty sidekick Hyper Hank walked into the Bomb Depot Number 3 joining Teleportation Man, Mayorman, Dirk Justice, the Rubber Band, and The Assistant.

"Dugman, you have knowledge of all things that have happened," started the mayor. "How did Flannel Man capture the Traffic Jammer?"

With his faithful compatriot on his shoulder acting as lookout, Dugman goes into a deep trance. "Flash!" Dugman suddenly exclaimed. "An unidentified evil ninja cyborg has just come into town. With his mystical evil ninja cyborg abilities and an invisible light ray, he stops traffic in all directions. Even low flying superheroes are caught in the worst traffic jam in Supervania since the explosion at the rubber ball factory. Authorities have made a call to all superheroes to stop this fiend. All efforts have been thwarted by the Traffic Jammer�s anti-superhero technology.

"Later that day, Flannel Man comes onto the scene. This formerly immovable object now known to authorities as the 'Traffic Jammer' has met with an irresistible force. He feels compelled to give Flannel Man a hug. With the Flannel Man 'Hug of Justice©' fully applied, the Traffic Jammer is captured."

All of the occupants of Bomb Depot Number 3 nod in recognition of the story as Dugman came out of his trance. "Oh yeah," stated Mayorman. "We could never do that. This package must be taken to Flannel Mansion."

While no one was looking, Dirk Justice snuck out of the room between Renee and Randy Rubber. Suddenly, Teleportation Man has an idea. "Maybe the weather will get bad, and the Traffic Jammer will just go home," he said.

"You could be onto something there," exclaimed the mayor. "What is the weather going to be like? Does anybody know?"

"Sorry chief," answered Teleportation man

"No help here," added Dugman as Hyper Hank shook his head no.

"I haven�t listened to the radio today," Renee Rubber injected.

"I haven�t seen a paper," Randy Rubber stated.

"Uh, I have been so busy," Mr. Rubber started.

"With the traffic and all," Mrs. Rubber finished.

"No sir," added The Assistant not to be left out.

"Well then, it looks like a job for..." declared Mayorman.

"Weatherman?" asked Randy Rubber.

"No! The Environ-Mentalist!" the Environ-Mentalist exclaimed as he entered Bomb Depot Number 3 joining Teleportation Man, Mayorman, the Rubber Band, Dugman, Hyper Hank, and The Assistant.

"Environ-Mentalist, what does the weather look like for the rest of the day?" asked the Mayor.

"Sunny and nice," replied the Environ-Mentalist. "A high in the mid- to upper-seventies. Winds out of the southwest at 5 miles per hour. Tonight turning breezy. Winds picking up to 15 miles per hour, but will remain southwesterly. Tomorrow it will be partly cloudy. A high in the low eighties...

"Thanks Environ-Mantalist," Mayorman interrupts. "That is what we wanted to know.

"What rotten luck to have such beautiful weather," stated The Assistant.

"It sounds like a nice day," started Mr. Rubber.

"To go for a drive," finished Mrs. Rubber.

"Rats!" exclaimed the Rubber children.

"Well, it doesn�t look like we can count on bad weather to help us," stated Mayorman. "Anybody have any other ideas?"

"Sorry chief," answers Teleportation man

"No help here," adds Dugman as Hyper Hank shakes his head no.

"I am fresh out of ideas," Renee Rubber injects.

"I've got nothing," Randy Rubber states.

"Uh, if we had more time," Mr. Rubber starts.

"We could probably come up with something," Mrs. Rubber finishes.

"It really isn't my bag," added the Environ-Mentalist.

"No sir," adds The Assistant not to be left out.

As all of the superheroes in Bomb Depot Number 3 tried to come up with something to thwart the evil Traffic Jammers ways, in walked a small unmasked person.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"Just in time Errand boy!" exclaimed the mayor.

"Traffic is backed up all over town," started Dugman.

"The whole city is at a stand still," added Teleportation Man.

"Flannel Man is the only superhero..." began Mr. Rubber.

"That can put a stop to the Traffic Jammer�s evil ways," finished Mrs. Rubber.

"However," Randy Rubber interjected.

"Flannel Man won�t leave his house," insisted Renee Rubber.

"Without this package," the Environ-Mentalist added while picking up the ordinary looking package wrapped in brown paper.

"We need it taken to Flannel Mansion immediately," said the mayor urgently.

"Can you help us?" they all asked.

"Gladly," Errand boy answered quietly.

Errand boy grabbed the package addressed to Flannel Man and put it in his backpack. With a little wave, he departed Bomb Depot Number 3 leaving all of the superheroes in the small room. Mayorman spoke, "Godspeed Errand boy. Hey, where did Dirk Justice go anyway?"

"He was just here a second ago," answered Teleportation man

"No help here," added Dugman as Hyper Hank shakes his head no.

"Maybe he had an appointment," Renee Rubber injected.

"I haven�t seen him," Randy Rubber stated.

"Uh, I have been so busy," Mr. Rubber started.

"With the traffic and all," Mrs. Rubber finished.

"It didn�t think it was my turn to watch him," added the Environ-Mentalist.

"I don�t know sir," added The Assistant not to be left out.

Errand boy headed out of the Auditorium of Equitableness and located his bike locked up in the bike rack. He dutifully unlocked his bike, and hopped on for his bike ride across town. Errand boy nimbly dodged the traffic that was backed up because of the Traffic Jammer's invisible light ray. He wove in and out and dodged the various superheroes and their vehicles. Finally, he reached Flannel Mansion. He got off his bike, and locked it to a nearby bicycle rack. He ran to Flannel Man�s door and knocked. Flannel Man opened the door. "Errand boy! Do you have my package?" he asked.

"Indeed I do," replied the somewhat out of breath Errand boy as he opened his pack and handed Flannel Man his much awaited package.

"At long last," sighed the anxious superhero. "How can I thank you Errand boy?"

Errand boy shrugged and just stood there. Flannel Man thought for a moment, and in a flash, inspiration struck. Flannel Man took out his wallet and gave Errand boy a dollar. Errand boy took the money and put it in his pocket. With a little wave, Errand boy ran to his bike, unlocked it, and rode off.

Flannel Man took his package inside his Flannel Mansion and closed the door behind him. Flannel Man quickly tore off the brown paper packaging. He opened the resulting box to reveal a small flannel suit. Flannel Man jumped behind his antique dressing screen. Soon a tattered and torn flannel suit was flung over the screen. The small flannel suit was different than the one Flannel Man was wearing, but it had obviously been worn on many adventures. Without much fanfare, Flannel Man emerged with Theodore his newly flanneled side kick. Theodore, a flannel clad stuffed bear, was clad in a new flannel suit. The duo were now ready for action.

"To the streets!" Flannel Man exclaimed.

Flannel Man, with Theodore clutched in his hand, raced towards the center of the traffic jam. Various superheroes spotted him and began to cheer him on.

"Go get him Flannel Man!" Anonymous Man shouted.

"Dude! Like end his gnarly bogatosity man!" exclaimed Slangman.

"Great googily moogily" added Idiom Boy.

Flannel Man and Theodore, after much difficulty, reached the center of the traffic jam. The Traffic Jammer felt an unmistakable urge. He felt Flannel Man's presence. He could not resist. He had to give Flannel Man a big hug. In the embrace, traffic was freed. With Flannel Man�s 'Hug of Justice©' fully applied, the trio jumped into a waiting police van. The Traffic Jammer was once again brought to justice.

Once the crisis was over and the traffic was once flowing there was relief back at the Auditorium of Equitableness. Mayorman found the opportunity to recline back at his desk. This is how Flannel Man found him after they locked the Traffic Jammer up.

"Thank our lucky stars that is over," declared the mayor.

"Indeed," agreed Flannel Man.

"Once again evil has been put into the unmerciful 'Hug of Justice©'," started Mayorman. "The streets again flow freely with good townsfolk. Once again they have been freed from the unyeilding grip of an evil ninja cyborg. What adventures lie ahead for the good people of...

"Gnarly dude!" added Slangman.

The End.

Several years ago, I bought a 35mm camera from the retail store in which I worked. It was a simple "Single Lens Reflex" camera. This SLR camera had a built-in light meter, but everything else was manual. I also purchased a wide-angle lens as well as a zoom lens. I have taken several rolls of film with this camera and some incredible pictures as a result. I have been quite pleased with it, but we have entered the digital age, and it was time to upgrade. Thus began my quest for a new camera!

Digital cameras have been around for several years, but I have never been fond of point and shoot cameras. They just do not offer the same flexibility that my SLR does. Thus, my first goal was to get a digital SLR. However, these have been quite expensive in recent years. Recently, digital SLRs have dipped into my price range. Further, a model that would work with my current lenses has become affordable. Thus, I had accomplished the difficult part of this quest. I know what I want, I just need to go and get it. It sounded simple enough, but I did not anticipate what was in store for me.

With the make and model firmly established, I jumped aboard the information superhighway with my pal Google by my side. There were many retailers offering the desired camera, so desiring the best deal, I decided to go with the retailer that offered the lowest price. I placed my order with this internet retailer.

The retailer wanted a great deal of unnecessary personal information. Thus, instead of giving my current phone number, I gave them my old number. I had it disconnected a short time ago, but records show it for my name. There was little reason to give them my phone number since they had my e-mail address. If they needed anything, I expected them to e-mail me the questions. However, they did e-mail me that they had some questions about my order, and that I should call them.

I thought it was odd that an internet retailer would slow down an order and increasing their cost by forcing me to speak to a person. However, I placed the call, and I spoke to a person with an east coast accent.

"We's got a few questions fer ya," he began. "First I wants to thank ya for yer order, and I wants to make sure yous knows dat dis camera doesn't have no lenses."

"I am aware of that," I responded.

"Good," he continued. "Dis camera needs a memory card. Does ya wants to order one now?"

"No thanks," I answered.

"Okay, dat's fine," he went on. "It needs battries. Does ya wants ta order some battries ta go wit it?"

"I don't need any batteries thanks," I told him.

"Very good, very good," he said. "Now does ya wants dis camera in English or Malaysian?"

"English of course," I answered.

"English?" he queried. "Well dat'll cost ya $200 extra."

"What?" I inquired.

"Yah, de English version is $200 more," he told me.

"You can cancel my order," I stated.

I would have never guessed there were still businesses doing the old "bait and switch." I was shocked. I wondered if what they were doing was legal, but my quest was still unfulfilled. I had met my first challenge and I ended up empty handed. Never fear, Google had more retailers. I was going to have to pay a little more, but not $200 more.

The next retailer offered free shipping which made it just a few dollars more than the first retailer who charged $30 for shipping. I placed my order and once again did not offer them my current phone number. Why do these internet retailers ask for a phone number? I do not wish any telemarketer to call me, so why would I want these retailers an option to sell my information? Upon placing my order, the retailer once again emailed me informing me that they had some questions about my order. "Oh no here we go again!" I thought.

I called, but I got voice mail. It must be standard procedure for camera retailers to waste money requiring a phone call. I tried a few times to get a hold of a person that day, but I got nothing. The next day, I finally spoke to a person (with an east coast accent) and he informed me that because I had a disconnected phone number that they canceled my order.

From that experience, I came away with the idea that every camera retailer is on the east coast of the US, and that they all want to try to sell accessories to your camera order before they ship it. While it was discouraging, I ventured onward. There were plenty of camera retailers on the net. I just had not contacted the right one. I picked another one and placed my order. With shipping costs, it was in the same price range as the others. I placed my order with my old phone number, I got the e-mail informing me of some questions, and I was ready for anything.

I called them to find that this individual did not have an east coast accent. Once again, the retailer asked me about batteries, memory, and lenses. I continued to inform them that I did not need anything but the camera itself.

"Well then," he stated. "We'll have this packaged up and sent to you right away."

Was I actually going to get the camera I wanted? Was this the end of my quest? I was eagerly anticipating a package when I got an e-mail informing me that the camera was on backorder. That was fine; I did not need the camera immediately. I could wait a short while. I waited 2 weeks, and I had not heard anything about my camera. Thus, I sent an e-mail to this retailer's customer service address. A few hours later, I received an e-mail stating that I had canceled my order. "That's odd," I thought. "I didn't cancel my order; I just wanted to know my status."

Shortly afterwards, I received a second e-mail informing me that by my request the order was canceled. This e-mail was informing me of the status of my order. "Doesn't any internet retailer want to sell anything?" I thought to myself. "Is it so difficult to fill out an order without so much fuss? Why can I not get this camera?"

I was going to try one more time. I decided that if this last retailer did not work, I would give up my quest. I would return to my life without the camera. I would accept defeat. I placed my order in the usual way with the disconnected phone number. To my surprise, I did not get an e-mail. However, it was odd that I did not even get a confirming e-mail. After a few days, I still had not heard from this retailer. I began to get worried. A few more days passed, so I decide to check the status of my order from their web site. To my astonishment, it stated that my camera had already shipped. Was I actually going to get my order without having to speak to a sales representative? Would my quest finally end?

There it was my new camera. Because of a configuration error on their end, I did not get a confirmation e-mail. However, I did get my camera. What an arduous journey! It was a long and difficult road, but I did get my camera. It takes great pictures too. I had fulfilled my quest, and my life has returned to normal. I hope I never have to suffer through such poor customer service again, but I probably will. Buying a camera should not be that difficult, but there are forces out there that make it so. Will people never learn?

It had been a fairly uneventful weekend for Wesley Hever. He straightened up his apartment a bit, watched some television, got a little reading done, and picked some things up at the grocery store. With evening closing in, he was astonished at how quiet a weekend it had been. Perhaps, it was too quiet. He began to wonder if he had missed some event that was taking place. It was late summer, so it couldn't be the Super Bowl. It was too early to be the World Series. Why was it so quiet?

Suddenly a knock came at his door. He opened it up to reveal his good friend Wayne McGuiness. "Good! You're here." Wayne said.

"What's up?" asked Wesley.

"There is trouble brewing out there, big trouble!"

"Well come on in and tell me about it."

"There's no time! We need to get out of here. We need to get out of here fast!"

"Settle down and tell me what's wrong."

"I just came here to get you and some supplies," Wayne stated coldly.

Wayne opened the refrigerator and began rummaging through it. He grabbed some water, some cans of refreshing beverages and stuffed them into his backpack. He closed the door and remarked, "Why is there fake leopard's skin fur on your fridge?"

"I saw it on some design show, and..."

"Never mind! Do you have any can goods? Do you have any rice and beans? You know - non-perishable goods."

"Are you going to tell me what is going on?"

"Once we get going. Well..."

"I haven't unpacked them yet from the grocery store. You'll probably find some stuff in those sacks over there."

Wayne searched through the sacks and just grabbed them. "OK, let's go!"

"Wait a minute! You just barge in here, grab some stuff and expect me to tag along without knowing what is going on? I have to work tomorrow! I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the big emergency is."

"There's no time!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Wesley affirmed as he sat down and turned on the television.

"OK OK OK OK! They are taking over."

"Who is taking over?"

"The story goes, there were this dozen or so people. They caused a bit of trouble and the authorities killed their leader. A couple of days later, this guy is walking around. He was dead! This formerly dead person returns to his group and soon there are bunches of them!"

"What are you talking about? Are you saying there are zombies out there?"

"I'm telling you they're coming! Since you insist, I guess I have to continue the story."

"Yes you do."

"Okay. At first, various groups kept them in check. They killed plenty of them that is for sure. They were somewhat controlled, but not anymore. There are millions of them in the city by now! We have to get out of here!"

"Zombies? You have to be kidding! Do you expect me to believe that?"

"You're not listening. They are coming to get us. Do you remember Jackie Larson?"

"Of course, we dated for a little while. She got a little obsessed, so I had to break it off. What does she have to do with it?"

"She's one of them! She has singled us out. Her and her group are coming to get us. They were just at my place, and I narrowly got out of there in time!"

"How do you know she's turned?"

"Like all of them, she's got that glassy-eyed look in her eyes, and she has that insipid smile on her face. Like that," Wayne explained while pointing at the television.

"Like what?"

"There on the TV. She has that look! That person is obviously one of them!"

"Who? The First Lady?"

"My goodness you're right! That is the First Lady and she is one of them! Who knows how far this has spread! We got to get going now!"

"Do you mean to tell me that the President's wife is a zombie?"

"Look! The President has that look too! It is probably all over Washington by now, and they're coming to get us. Can we go now?"

"Wait wait wait! Are you trying to tell me that the President and his wife are zombies and that Jackie Larson is on her way over here..."

Before he can finish his question, there is a knock on the door.

"Oh man, they're here! We'll have to go out the window. I told you we needed to get going," explained Wayne.

"It is just a coincidence," responded Wes as he peaked through the spy hole. "Holy crap it's Jackie!"

"Why don't you ever listen to me? We need to get out of here! Does this window open?"

"There must be 2 dozen people out there and a couple of them are dressed like clowns," Wesley continued.

"Wesley darling," began a voice in the hall. "I know you're in there. Open the door; will you honey?"

"You're right! Jackie does have that look. I'll get the window, it is kind of tricky," Wes explained as he opened the window. "Clowns?"

"You don't think they're picky do you? They are out to get everyone! What the heck is this?" Wayne asked holding some pamphlets he retrieved from one of the shopping bags.

"Those were out front when I got back from shopping. I must have put them in there to carry them in."

"Did you read these?" asked Wayne with alarm.

"I may have skimmed them, but I didn't read them."

"Did you read these?" asked Wayne more forcefully.

"I don't think so."

"I want you to be sure!" insisted Wayne.

"I'm pretty sure," Wesley asserted as he finally got the window open.

"I guess I'll have to risk it," Wayne said as he threw the pamphlets on the floor. "Let's get out of here."

"Come on Wes baby, open the door," the two men heard from the hall. "I can hear the TV going. I know you're in there. It is me Jackie. Jackie Larson. Can we talk?"

"Obsessed! Hey, that's quite a ways down," complained Wes. "So, why don't we just shoot our way out? They do it in the movies all the time."

"That's the movies man! This is real life. You can't go around shooting people for no good reason!"

"If they are threatening us..."

"Hey, do you still have that replica Colt 45 peacemaker? You might want to grab it just in case."

"Are you serious?"

"You're right; it'll probably get us into trouble. If the President is one of them, the courts might be too."

"What?"

"Never mind, let's get going."

"Where are we going?"

"I'll tell you once we're out of here!"

"He's not opening the door," a voice in the hall said. "Do you have a key Jackie?"

"I would never..." she insisted.

"That's a relief," another voice stated to Jackie. "Wesley, we aren't leaving. We can wait all night." The doorbell began to ring constantly.

"I'll jump first," started Wayne. "Then you drop down my pack and then the groceries. You can grab whatever you think you want or need and follow me down."

"Right," responded Wesley as Wayne jumped.

Wes looked around a bit and decided he did not need anything and went to the window. Wes dropped the pack and the sacks of groceries to Wayne waiting below. With the continuous bell ringing and the knocking on the apartment door, Wesley jumped out of the second story window.

As he landed Wayne said, "Get down! There are more of them over there."

Wesley ducked into some shrubs to find Wayne crouched there. Wayne's truck was only about 100 feet away. Wayne had fastened a canoe tightly to a rack over the bed of the pickup. "Are we going canoeing?" Wesley whispered.

"Since the President is one of them, it might be best if we leave the country. Who knows how far this goes? We need to be ready for anything."

"Hey! There is my landlord with them."

"We have to move fast. He'll probably let them into your apartment. Keep your head down and follow me."

The two men crawled along the ground toward Wayne's truck. All the while, they kept their eyes on the group of people by the door of Wesley's apartment building. Quietly, Wayne put the supplies he gathered from Wesley's apartment into the back of the pickup. Under the canoe in its rack, there was a large backpack full of camping gear. Wayne unlocked the truck and the two men quietly entered and locked the truck doors after they entered. They sat there quietly for a few moments and then Wesley asked, "Are we headed north or south?"

"We'd be lucky to make it very far south. I've heard they have a group of 30,000 that gathers weekly in Houston."

"Is it some sort of Zombie Jamboree?"

"I have no idea what they do. The President is one of them and he's got a place in Texas, so the south is probably crawling with them. Although there are probably more options for us down south, we're headed north. I figure we can get into Canada by way of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. If the borders are overrun, we should be able to get through by canoe. Besides, this is Minnesota!"

"Do you think it is that bad?"

"Minnesota? Nah, it's a nice enough place..."

"No I mean all of this stuff," Wesley explained pointing to the crowd in front of his apartment building.

"I don't know what to think. I'm in total survival mode. They'll notice us when we start the truck, so be ready."

"Hey, they're in my apartment!" cried Wesley.

"It's go time," Wayne said as he started the truck and put it in gear and took off.

Out of Wesley's apartment window Jackie yelled, "There they go!" She pointed to the truck Wayne was driving. However, it was too late for that group to stop them. Out of the parking lot the two men sped.

It was now dark, and Wayne took back roads to the interstate. There was little traffic on the roads, and they did not run into any trouble. Trying not to drive conspicuously, Wayne made his way onto the interstate heading north.

"I could use a beer," Wesley stated after a bit of a drive.

"I'll pull over as soon as I feel safe, and you can dig one out of the back."

"You sure were prepared for this."

"I was a boy scout. This looks like a good spot," Wayne said as he pulled off the road under a bridge. Wes jumped out of the cab and began searching for Wayne's pack. "Grab me an ale would you?"

"Sure!" Wesley responded as he fetched two cans out of Wayne's backpack.

Wes jumped back into the cab of the truck, and they began moving again. Before they went too far they saw flashing lights from behind. It was a police car. Wayne pulled the truck over and the police officer stopped behind them. The officer slowly and carefully walked up to Wayne's window. "Paper's please," he stated.

"Here are my driver's license and my proof of insurance," replied Wayne as he handed the officer his cards. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Have you boys been drinking?" the officer asked sternly.

"No sir," snapped Wayne.

"What are those?" the officer asked pointing his flashlight at the open cans in the cab.

"My friend is drinking root beer, and I'm having a ginger ale," replied Wayne as Wes showed the cans.

The officer went back into the waiting squad car and checked Wayne's records. After several minutes, the officer headed back to Wayne's truck. "I saw you pull of the road back there. What was that all about," the officer asked.

"My friend and I were thirsty. I had these cans in the back there. We pulled over to fetch them," responded Wayne.

"I see. Where are the rest of your papers?" asked the officer.

"Rest of my papers?" inquired Wayne.

"Everybody got some new papers that they were supposed to carry with them where ever they go. Some small pamphlets, where are they?"

"Those? Where did we put those? Are they in the pack Wes?" Wayne asked his passenger.

"Uh, I don't think..." Wes started.

"I don't think we forgot them either," interrupted Wayne. "I'm sure they're in the pack back there with our bible, do you want me to show you?"

Wayne started to open the door when the officer began, "Nah, that's all right. Where are you boys headed?"

"We're going up north for a little fishing trip," Wayne lied. "We've been planning this for months. I hope we have everything."

"Well, good luck to you boys," replied the officer. "Have a good night and drive safely."

"Thanks officer! We will," called Wayne as the officer walked back to the squad car.

"What was that bible crack about?" asked Wes as the officer pulled out.

"Later..."

Wayne put the truck in gear and pulled out behind the officer. After several hours driving in silence along the north bound interstate, Wesley could no longer keep quiet. "Are you going to tell me what is going on here?"

"With what happened back there with the police officer, I feel better about you now. I know you didn't read those pamphlets. You know, we're supposed to carry them wherever we go."

"What?" asked Wesley. "Now I'm really confused."

"You should watch the news more."

"You know I haven't watched the news since that whole OJ Simpson fiasco. They sensationalize everything now. What does the news have to do with it?"

"We're far enough from anyplace, I think we're pretty safe now. We probably won't run into any trouble since we're far enough from any population centers. If you had been watching the news, you would know that things have changed. They have changed dramatically."

"I know, zombies are a big change!"

"Sorry about that, it isn't exactly that bad. It is just that we now live in a theocracy."

"A theocracy? That's impossible!"

"I wish it were. That scene back at your place was about conversion. Jackie and her group are Evangelicals. They were there to convert you to Christianity. Well, their idea of Christianity anyway."

"They weren't zombies?"

"Well, there is little difference. They don't pay attention to anything going on around them either, and they don't stop until everyone is one of them."

"You have a point."

"They recently passed a law that says you need to carry those religious pamphlets wherever you go and show them upon request."

"What does that show?"

"Supposedly it shows that you've taken Jesus Christ as your personal saviour. It shows that you're practicing the official religion of the US.

"And the first amendment...?"

"Edited for your protection. The Supreme Court has totally overhauled the establishment clause."

"So everyone has to be a Christian?"

"Either that, or have your civil rights curtailed. That is why we're going to Canada. It'll be crowded at the boarder. They'll probably send lots of people back, so we can paddle in. We are almost there."

"So, let me get this straight. The Evangelical Christians have finally gotten it their way?"

"Religious freedom, one of the foremost important things that some of our founding fathers so strongly believed, has gone by the way side.

"Puritan's leaving England to escape religious persecution."

"That has been totally forgotten. The oppressed are now the oppressors."

"Okay, Canada. You talked me into it!"

Wesley and Wayne abandoned the pickup truck at a Boundary Waters entry point and headed farther north. They hated to use an entry point illegally, but they felt they had no choice. After entering Canadian territory, no one knows what became of the two men. Some say they started their own religion. The President has disavowed any knowledge of the two men. Some say they returned to Minnesota under different names, and accepted the fate of their country. Still others say they have been fighting to return the US to sanity. No one knows for certain what became of them, but we hope they're safe.

It started off as a normal day for the residence of Supervania. Of course, what was normal for this town would not be normal for most towns. It was going to be a hectic day for the mayor of Supervania. Mayorman would not soon forget this day. At least he hoped he wouldn't forget it because it was his wedding anniversary.

He arrived as usual to the Auditorium of Equitableness. It was early in the morning and he was ready for a normal busy day. His first meeting of the day was with the "League of Yes-Men." Unfortunately, only the Affirminator and the Seal of Approval could make the meeting. "That was hardly a 'League,'" thought the mayor.

"What can I do for the 'League'?" started the Mayor.

"Mayor," the Affirminator began. "You're doing a fabulous job."

"Arh Arh!" added the Seal of Approval.

"The 'League of Yes-Men' considers your leadership impeccable," continued the Affirminator.

"That is very nice of you to say," replied Mayorman. "However, I'm a very busy man. What did you wish to meet about?"

"Arh arh arh," the Seal of Approval began while nudging the Affirminator.

"Yes, I couldn't agree more," included the Affirminator.

"Uh," questioned the mayor. "Are you going to tell me what he said?"

"Yes Mr. Mayor, I certainly would like to," responded the Affirminator. "However, she's a she."

"I beg your pardon," blushed the mayor. "Are you going to tell me what she said?"

"Arh arh arh arh," clapped the seal.

"Of course," started the Affirminator. "However, I don't speak Seal."

"Is there are going to be any point to this meeting?" questioned Mayorman.

"Naturally ... we wouldn't waste your valuable time Mr. Mayor. However, the BootLicker and his toady, 'Toady', were the heroes that wished to bring up the issue. Unfortunately, their car was vandalized this morning, so they had to cancel. We were just here to support them. They are very important heroes. Very much like yourself," the Affirminator went on.

"Arh arh!" added the Seal of Approval.

"Do you have any idea what this issue is regarding?" asked the mayor.

"Of course we do. However, we have been sworn to not discuss it without them."

"Well, I guess this ends this meeting then," finished the mayor.

"Absolutely," the Affirminator said. "It has been an honor and a pleasure coming here and having you meet with us on this important issue."

"Arh arh arh," added the seal.

"Nice seeing you," responded the mayor. "If you would like to reschedule, please see The Assistant. Thanks for coming."

"Yes yes," the Affirminator stated while MayorMan issued them out the door.

The Assistant entered the mayor's office at the Auditorium of Equitableness. "Sir," the mayor's assistant started. "Anonymous Man is here to see you."

"Very Good. Send him in."

"Mr. Mayor," started Anonymous Man. "You have to do something!"

"Yes," replied the mayor. "Yes I do."

"Do you know what I'm talking about?" asked the superhero.

"Naturally," started Mayorman. "Yes I do. Of course I know. Yes ... Well no. I have no idea."

"Some vandal is throwing balloons full of paint on cars all over town," replied Anonymous Man.

"Water balloons?" asked the mayor.

"Not water balloons. Well, water balloons filled with paint. So, they're more like paint balloons," stumbled Anonymous Man.

"Sir," interrupted The Assistant. "We have just got a report that these balloons are hitting cars all over the United States."

"This is obviously the work of some sort Evil Ninja Cyborg," exclaimed the mayor. "But what could it mean? This looks like a job for..."

"The League of Yes-Men!" exclaimed the Affirminator.

"Do you know what is going on?" asked the mayor.

"Yes!" replied the Affirminator. "Of course we know."

"Are you going to tell us?" asked the mayor.

"Certainly, if we could Mr. Mayor," responded the Affirminator. "You know that we would."

"Arh arh arh," added the Seal of Approval.

"I see," replied the mayor skeptically. "Assistant, please show these heroes out!"

"Absolutely," replied The Assistant.

"I would like to say that you are doing a wonderful job as mayor..." started the Affirminator.

The Assistant's eyes turn a brilliant lime green as a roar rings throughout the room. The Seal of Approval and the Affirminator are lifted off the floor of the mayor's office and are whisked out the door by an unseen force. The pair of superheroes travel throughout the Auditorium of Equitableness and are planted softly in front of the building. The Assistant's eyes turn back to their naturally dusky color and a faint smile of satisfaction crosses his lips.

"Anonymous Man," started the mayor as he attempted to get more information. "Is there anything more that you can tell me?"

"Yes," Anonymous Man replied. "Of course, I could. Naturally, I would like to... Sorry, the League of Yes-Men got to me. I don't think there is anything more I can add."

"Thank you for your report Anonymous Man," the mayor said as he moved around his desk to sit down. "If you think of anything or need anything else be sure to let us know."

"Thank you mayor."

"Do I need to show him out too?" asked The Assistant eagerly.

"No need," answered the mayor.

"Oh," The Assistant responded as he sulked back to his desk.

"However," the mayor indicated to The Assistant. "I do need to get something for my wife for our anniversary."

"That is not my job," The Assistant replied curtly.

"My schedule is quite full, and I need to get her something nice," whined the mayor. "This looks like a job for..."

"Sorry," interrupted the mayor's assistant. "There isn't anyone here to see you."

"Rats!" exclaimed the mayor.

"However, your wife is on line 1."

"Thank you!" replied the mayor as he picked up his phone. He pressed the blinking light and began speaking to his wife on the phone. "Hello Dear, did you get your breakfast in bed? I didn't want to wake you, so I left it beside the bed there. Knocked over? I'm sorry; I thought I kept the cat out of the room. The open window? Oh, that explains it. She has always been a smart cat. How's that? Of course, I made the reservation. I made it weeks ago. Our table will be ready at the restaurant at 8PM. I hope I won't be late, but we're a little swamped here already. There is an emergency happening as we speak. I'll try to be on time. I have arranged for the America's Original Evil Ninja Cyborg Horse and Buggy Service to pick you up and take you to the restaurant. The city can't function without me. Who was that? Flash, your old boyfriend called? What did he want? That was pretty bold. Did you tell him that you're happily married? Of course I'm happy. Why would you ask such a thing? When I married you, I became the luckiest man in Supervania. He is going to give you an anniversary present? Now dear, I'm not going to compete with a Ninja Cyborg. I'll give you your gift at dinner tonight. I'll be on time. I promise. I've got another call waiting dear, so I have to let you go. I love you. Have a good day. Good bye. Assistant!"

"Yes sir?"

"You did reserve our table didn't you?"

"Of course, I made the reservation. I made it weeks ago."

"Good, could you contact AOENC Horse and Buggy Service and send a buggy to my house at 7:30?"

"Yes sir."

"While you're at it, could you pick up something nice for my wife?"

"Sir, I am unaffected by the influence of the League of Yes-Men. Since that is not part of my job, you will have to find someone else."

"All right already! Speaking of the league, did they reschedule?"

"Yes. They'll be here next week. However, I pressed and their issue is that 'League' is such and old fashioned term, and they wish to change their name."

"Ugh! Every year a group of superheroes wishes to change their name! What do they want to change it to 'The Uncanny Yes-Men', 'Instructor Confirmation and his Yes-Men', 'The Ultimate Yes-Men'?"

"I didn't press that far."

"My Ninja Cyborg wife's former boy friend calls to inform her that he's giving her and anniversary present, and I have to deal with superheroes with marketing issues. I guess that is what it's like to be the mayor of..."

After a morning of signing documents and making calls, the mayor had a late lunch. It was a busy day with plenty of complaints about cars being ruined by some unseen entity. After a relaxing lunch and some more city business the mayor asked his assistant, "Is there any more information about these balloons being dropped on cars?"

"Several of the city's superheroes have claimed that it is the work of an Evil Ninja Cyborg, but no definite word on the perpetrator."

"Have you heard from The Dugman? He'll be able to tell us what has happened."

"No sir. Do you want me to put out the Dugman signal?"

"Yes, you had better."

"I'll get right on it," replied The Assistant as he rushed out of the mayor's office.

The Assistant walked to the superhero signal board and searched through the list of 'D' named superheroes until he found the one marked 'Dugman and his sidekick Hyper Hank'. He pressed the corresponding button. This activated the search light mechanism with the proper overlay indicating the correct signal.

Simultaneously with the spotlight signal being sent, a phone dialed the Dugman's super advanced message receiving device he called a 'pager'. This informed the duo of superheroes that the Mayor wished to see them in his office as soon as possible.

Dugman and his Giant Green Iguana sidekick Hyper Hank were busy trying to clean the 'Barbie Pink' paint off the super advanced transportation device the Dugman called his car when they received the signal, or 'page', from the mayor. They dropped their meager attempts to remove the pink paint and drove to the Auditorium of Equitableness.

When the two superheroes arrived at the mayor's office, he was pacing back and forth in front of his desk concentrating deeply on something. "Mr. Mayor, you wanted to see us?" asked The Dugman.

"Yes yes! Thanks for coming," started the mayor. "You may have noticed that there are balloons filled with pink paint being dropped on cars all over town. Actually, this is happening all over the US. Do you have any idea of who did this?"

"Let me see," replied the Dugman.

Hyper Hank went into lookout mode as the Dugman went to his all seeing trance. The Dugman closed his eyes to concentrate and then suddenly began "Flash! The Mayorman and his Evil Ninja Cyborg wife are celebrating their wedding anniversary. The mayor's rival to the affections of his wife is going to attempt to break up the marriage. He realizes that with the election coming up, that the mayor needs his wife to gain some of the Evil Ninja Cyborg vote. If he can break them up, and get back the love of his life, he can accomplish two things with a single act. Flash, the former boyfriend, put his plan in action by deciding on the perfect gift to give Mrs. Mayor. He decides to give her a ... pink carnation??"

The Dugman slowly came out of his trance as the words fade from his mouth. "Of course!" exclaimed the mayor. "Now I remember! Her former boyfriend is the Evil Pun Master! Assistant, look in the city computer for the Pun Master's nemesis and signal that superhero! Dugman and Hank, you have provided a great service to the city of Supervania. We should have this vandalizing cyborg behind bars soon. Now, if you could do the city another great favor, I am stuck here at the office until this villain is apprehended. As you yourself stated Dugman, it is my anniversary, and I am in need of a present for my wife. Could you pick up something nice as a favor to me?"

Just then, a green streak is seen heading towards the mayor's door as Hyper Hank darts out of the room. "Sorry Mayor, Hank senses danger and we must be off. Happy Anniversary and farewell all!"

"Rats!" exclaimed the mayor as The Dugman rushed after the scurrying lizard.

"Sir," interrupted The Assistant. "Dirk Justice is here to see you."

"Send him in," replied the mayor as he walked around his desk to have a seat.

"Mr. Mayor," started Dirk Justice. "I'm sure you're aware that cars are being turned pink all over town. Luckily, the Cycle of Justice has been unaffected. I just thought I would inform you that I believe it is the work of the Evil Pun Master."

"Thank you Dirk," replied the mayor. "We here at the Auditorium of Equitableness have just concluded the same thing. We are waiting for ..."

"Slang Man and his gnarly homey Idiom Boy," interrupted Slang Man.

"Zounds!" added Idiom Boy.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice Slang Man," the mayor said. "Here is the situation ... umm ... 'Dude'. Your nemesis the Evil Pun Master is on the loose again. We believe he is dropping balloons filled with pink paint all over the US. It is our belief that this ... urr ... 'bidness' is an attempt to influence the next election. We need you to get the ... uh ... 'lowdown' on him and if possible bring him to justice."

"Gadzooks!" exclaimed Idiom Boy.

"A single minizzle before I cop a mope. Dis mooley, the Evil Pun Master, got a rep with some serious street cred. He could be hangin' at his crib and have his glommers do the nasty and he doesn't even bounce the pad. Can you M.O. this action?"

"Well put," replied the mayor. "I got nothing... Anybody have any idea what he just said?"

"My dear departed mother tried to teach me this stuff," replied Dirk Justice.

"They departed for Florida didn't they?" asked the mayor.

"Yes," answered Dirk. "However I couldn't get the hang of it her all-inclusive language conversion."

"Assistant," called the mayor. "Has the Dugman left the building?"

"I'll get him back sir," answered The Assistant as he pushed the Dugman's signal button.

"Is the Dugman a translator?" inquired Dirk Justice.

"I think it is one of Hyper Hanks abilities. He can escape any enclosure and he can understand anything," responded the mayor. "Of course, we need Dugman to tell us what his side kick is saying. While we wait for the Dugman, could one of you run out and get something for my wife for our anniversary?"

"Kerfuffle!" Idiom Boy exclaimed.

"Chill Daddy," added Slang Man. "Ain't no reason to get crunk wit yer ole lady. A gnarled map'll do a kablam on the sitch. A little sweet sauce and some bling-bling and you'd be styling like a Garfunkle."

"Uh, thanks ... 'homey'," replied the mayor. "It looks like a time for ..."

"The Dugman and his trusty companion Hyper Hank!" exclaimed the superhero.

"S'up G?" asked Slang Man.

"Can you dig it?" responded The Dugman.

"It's Dug ... Man," finished Slang Man.

"I was just splainin' to the Mayah and his peeps that they can't give a thumper to the Pun Master without some reasonage."

"Fo Sho!" replied Dugman.

"Okay," interrupted the mayor. "Enough with your ... uh 'rapping', and tell us what he's saying."

"You can't go after the Pun Master without proof that he is the culprit," answered The Dugman.

"Oh!" exclaimed the mayor. "Why didn't he say so in the first place?"

"The man no want no help, he no get no help," mumbled Slang Man.

"Well," continued the mayor. "Dugman, you said yourself that he wanted to give my wife a 'Pink Carnation' for our anniversary."

"I did?" asked Dugman.

"Yes," continued the mayor. "He has masterminded an effort to drop balloons filled with pink paint on the cars of the US. Thus, he would be making the US a 'Pink Car Nation'!"

"The fiend!" exclaimed The Dugman.

"It reminds me of the time he tried to get Hong Kong violinist Sing Yin Huang to marry Tour De France winner Miguel Indurain so she would become Sing Yin Indurain."

"That Monster!" interjected Dugman.

"Zowie!" added Idiom Boy.

"Natch!" agreed Slang Man. "That's all gravy noodles. Are the 5-0 gonna play ball?"

"He asks are the police going to believe you?" translated the Dugman.

"I have my own phone recorded, and his phone call to my wife will be available to the courts," replied the mayor.

"Shazam," started Slang Man. "Sorry I zooted you cats up and down. I'll bag the head banger and pokify him before you can oscillate with your yummy mummy."

"He's sorry for the confusion and he'll have him arrested before your dinner tonight."

"He'd better hurry," replied the mayor. "It is getting late."

"Solid," responded Slang Man as he and Idiom Boy headed for the door. "Dirk made a quick outie."

"Ghostville!" replied Idiom Boy.

"Thanks again for your help Dugman," the mayor said while shaking The Dugman's hand. "You sure helped a great deal with this situation."

"I'm always at your service Mr. Mayor," replied the superhero.

"Oh no!" shouted the mayor. "What time is it?"

"It is 7:15 PM," replied The Assistant.

"That isn't enough time to pick out something nice for my wife!" bemoaned the mayor.

"Sir," interrupted the mayor assistant. "Errand Boy is here to see you."

"He's a little late," cried the mayor.

The young man quietly entered the mayor's office with a bouquet of carnations and ornate wooden box. "Sir," he stated meekly. "The fifth year is the 'Wooden Anniversary'. So, I took the liberty of purchasing this small antique box and this bouquet of your wife's favorite flowers. That'll be $36.47."

"Errand Boy!" exclaimed the mayor. "Here is $50. Keep the change. You once again have saved the city. All is right again here in..."

"Looking Good!" added Fashionista

The End.

It was spring break and where did this Floridian academic go during spring break? Certainly he wasn't about to go anywhere near Ft Lauderdale. No, Dr. John Maland went to a far more exotic location. He was on board his small wooden sailing vessel somewhere between Miami and Bermuda. His destination wasn't on the map, which is very unusual for inhabited islands. However, this was no ordinary island.

What initially drew this island to the attention of Dr. Maland was the fact that their culture was unaffected by the "Age of Discovery." The pirates that lived around the Caribbean did not touch the inhabitants of this island. There are no records of any encounters with the islands natives. All of the sailors left this island alone. It had no contact even as explorers were exploiting surrounding islands. In his research, Dr. Maland was trying to discover why this island was so special during this period.

When he considered this aspect, another question would occur to him. Why did this tribe allow him to research them? Surely, other scientists tried to study them. He couldn't be the only scientist to wonder about this tribe. Certainly, there must have been other anthropologists and others that had stumbled upon them through the course of history. Why didn't any of them write anything down?

Of course, the island being in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle may have had some impact. In recent times, this fact could have scared off many would-be scientists. The mysteries of the Bermuda Triangle could have kept some scientists away, but would it scare off all of them? Was he missing something? Was he getting himself into deep trouble?

Nah, he felt that the Bermuda triangle stuff was all nonsense anyway. "Margaret Mead does her studies in Samoa and New Guinea and she's labeled one of the most ground breaking scientists of all time. My work is in the 'Devil's Triangle' and I get labeled a pseudo-scientist!" he would often lament. However, this group was very interesting and that took the sting out of most of it.

In his first few encounters with the inhabitants of the island, he discovered a few interesting facts. The tribe of this island had adopted "Iapetus" as their protector and major deity. They claimed that Iapetus would rise up from the water and smite their enemies. They claimed that this deity was also responsible for their isolation. They informed John that he was allowed to study them by the graces of Iapetus.

John thought this was incredible. He did some research and discovered that Iapetus is the name of a Greek Mythology Titan. According to Greek myth, Iapetus was the father of Atlas and Prometheus. When Zeus overthrew the Titans, he banished them to Tartaras. There was no reason for the island inhabitants to single out this rather obscure titan.

"Why not worship the titan Oceanus?" Dr. Maland often thought. "Wouldn't that would be a more fitting deity?"

It was incredible that an ancient Greek myth could be transformed and adopted by a far off island culture. When this was first published in an anthropological journal, some pointed that this was more evidence that Atlantis was in the Bermuda triangle. The question remained, why would this titan be the object of worship for this tribe? Even if Atlantis was in the Bermuda triangle, wouldn't they be worshipping the same gods as the Greeks of a comparable time?

Dr. Maland concluded that the name of Iapetus was probably just a coincidence. The constant link to fringe groups was a minor annoyance to John, but he was sailing in the Caribbean on a beautiful spring day towards an island paradise. He will take some criticism from mainstream scientists for several days in the tropics.

These Iapetian's, as they call themselves, began trading around the Caribbean a few years earlier. They were trading their exquisite handmade jewelry for cloth and tools. Dr. Maland was studying how this sudden interest in the outside world was affecting their culture. They were remarkably resistant to the lures of much of the new technologies. They still used their dugouts rather than the newer fiberglass boats available. They used paddles and sails rather than motors. The group adopted some technologies and ignored others. Their pace of life was still slow compared to the hustle and bustle of American life. That was why John used a wooden sailboat to get to the island. Well, that and the fact that he loved to sail.

As he approached the beach with the huge statues of Iapetus, he saw a small group of Iapetians waiting to greet him. Many of the tribal members looked forward to his visits. They liked his stories as much as he liked theirs.

"This tribe has an incredible ability to learn," noted John. "In the few years of trade, the entire tribe has learned a great deal of English. Nearly every member of the tribe can speak some English."

Dr. Maland was hesitant to teach them more, but they could be very insistent. While their English skills helped with his research, but Dr. Maland was much more interested in their language. If he could, he wanted to link it with other languages. Perhaps a link to Greek would give more credence to the Bermuda -- Atlantis link. However, the islands inhabitants were quite eager to practice their newly found language skills.

As a form of entertainment, the tribe would gather around the fire and the storytellers would tell their stories. Mostly these stories involved Iapetus and some outsiders. Rarely did outsiders get to hear their stories. In fact, the tribe had never invited John to one of their story telling sessions.

This time after the typical greeting ceremony, the group invited Dr. Maland to join them. The tribal elders had discussed it before his arrival, and they were going to let him join them as they gathered around the fire for their story. Further, since Dr. Maland was there, the storyteller was going to tell his story in English.

"In the time before the motors," the story began. "We were a peaceful people. We did not interfere with the outside, and we expected them to do the same. We meant no one any harm, but we had a capable defender. So, many ships would pass, and leave us unharmed. However, one day a large wooden monster came upon our island. It bore some symbols." The story teller wrote 'PICKERING' in the sand. "This creature had short stubby arms coming out his sides. This monster had large fins on his back to propel him along the water with the wind. Men sat on his back and went along for the ride. The men slowed the great monster and rested with him near our shore. Men shouted and yelled at our people, but none could understand. They shouted and yelled some more, but none could decipher the words. The men became angry and released the fury of the beast upon our island. The arms of the monster boomed and caused great destruction from afar. The people fearing the worst called upon the priestess to ask Iapetus to rise up from the depths and save his people. The men on the great beast laughed at our priestess. They pointed the arms of the beast at her, but they did her no harm. Upon hearing the prayer, the mighty Iapetus arose out of the depths. The men on the monster fell silent with fear of our mighty protector. The beast they rode grew quiet, but did not flee. The men pulled and worked their harnesses, but Iapetus got closer. Their great monster was paralyzed with fear. The men ran, pulled on ropes, and shouted but their transportation would not move. As our protector got near to the fiend, the booming started again but Iapetus was not affected. Our protector lifted the booming monster over his head and smashed in on the reef. The beast broke into many pieces and the men that rode her were killed. We thanks Iapetus for his aid, and the priestess offered some food to our mighty protector. After eating the offering, our protector returned to the depths. He was greatly saddened by his destruction. He did not like to kill, but he did when he was forced. In his anguish, Iapetus caused a great storm to rage to mourn the loss of those men. When the storm left our people gathered the remnants of the beast and created a great fire. Upon the flames of the fire much food was prepared. All of the people of the tribe thanked Iapetus for his help. They also apologized for causing his anguish. Iapetus appeared and ate more of the food, and all was right again. The only reminder of that day is this part of the beast." The storyteller takes out piece of wood with 'Pickering' engraved upon it.

"This iceberg is enormous, and that is just the tip of the iceberg," Dr. Claude LeFleur joked to himself.

With the global warm temperatures, this iceberg had broken off the arctic ice shelf and was floating south towards Canada. Many icebergs had done such things in the past, but this one was very special. Some Canadians on their fishing boat were trawling between the icebergs, when they spotted something unusual about this particular iceberg. When they approached to investigate, they were astounded at what they saw. They immediately contacted authorities. This is how Dr. LeFleur got involved.

Dr. LeFleur was at the top of his field. In his younger days, they scoffed that such a young man could not be so competent. However, he proved them all wrong with finding after finding. Now, at age 50, he was at the forefront of another major discovery. He was in charge of researching this iceberg. He was onboard the tugboat that was towing it into the Hudson Bay.

A research station was set up on James Bay on the southern tip of the Hudson Bay. That was the only location large enough to handle this special iceberg. It was an unusually warm spring, and the ice was melting quickly. The more the ice melted, the more excited the crew became. This iceberg had an enormous creature trapped inside. The fishing crew, who discovered it, dubbed it an ultra-yeti.

The creature was pure white and was enormous. This ultra-yeti was reminiscent of the legendary creature thought to roam the Himalayan mountain range; however, this beast was much bigger than the legendary "Abominable Snowman." It was quite a fierce looking monster. From Dr. LeFleur's initial examination, he deduced that the creature was pregnant. Thus, they all agreed that she was female. They named her Casiell, which is Latin for "Earthy Mother".

As the tug slowly pulled the ice entombed creature south, more and more ice was melting away. "This had better not take too long," thought Dr. LeFleur. "Otherwise, all the ice will melt, and she'll go sinking to the bottom of Hudson Bay. However, she is gigantic. Even on the bottom, she may still be above the water."

The creature entombed in this block of ice was indeed gigantic. It would make many dinosaurs look like small dogs. When Cassiel roamed the earth, she would have stood 250 meters tall while standing on her hind legs. "This animal was half the height of Canada's tallest building," thought Dr. LeFleur. "It would dwarf many buildings in the North America. I'm one of the luckiest people alive, because I get to study her!"

Dr. LeFleur's research team was waiting for them to arrive at their small research station on James Bay. The team notified several prominent biological scientists, and it was the talk of the many blogs on the internet. There was a lot of talk about the ultra-yeti. Many biologists made their way to the research station. Many curious people also made their way to the remote area of Canada. The research team had to establish some security to make sure that nothing got out of hand.

The unusually warm weather melted much of the ice and exposed much of the ultra-yeti's fur before they reached the research station. However, there was still enough ice under her to keep her afloat. However, Dr. LeFleur was worried about decay. He was hoping for much cooler weather to keep her from decaying, but there would be many opportunities to get good data.

Dr. LaFleur's team obtained some of the fur for analysis. Furthermore, the team was able to obtain some blood and tissue samples. With these samples they were able to do some DNA and chemical analysis on the creature. In their analysis of these samples, they quickly confirmed that she was pregnant.

There were many exciting discoveries. Clearly, this creature was not the sole member of her species unless her species was born pregnant. "Who knows how many of these creatures once roamed the earth?" thought Dr. LeFleur. "What caused this unfortunate creature to become trapped in the ice? Are there others to be found in the melting arctic ice?"

Dr. LeFleur's team studied the gigantic creature very thoroughly. Claude was anxious to get more information from Cassiel's baby. The weather was cooperating and melting much of the ice that trapped her legs. From what they could tell, she would have delivered just as any mammal. Once her legs were free, they would attempt to access some tissue and blood from the baby through the uterus.

When the fishing vessel first discovered the creature, she was in an odd position in the ice. Her legs were near the top and at an odd angle; her head was much farther down. While they were towing her through Hudson Bay, they would rotate her as much as they could so she would lie down at a more convenient angle as the ice melted. At present, she was lying mostly on her back but slightly on her left side.

The team's plan was to free the child if possible. Once freeing the child, the science team could then get to the mother's stomach. This would allow them to analyze her diet. "How much could this creature eat?" wondered Dr. LeFleur. "What did she eat? Was she a scavenger? Was she herbivorous, carnivorous, or omnivorous?"

They managed to get some ultrasound equipment to their isolated site. They used the ultrasound to give them a great deal of information about the baby. The baby was male, and appeared to be almost ready for birth. The team theorized that she was about to give birth when she died.

"Perhaps," one scientist theorized. "She broke through the ice and could not get free."

"She may have been searching for her last meal before giving birth, and perhaps she starved before she delivered," guessed another.

"If she ate fish, she may have gotten caught in a sudden freeze while fishing," another thought aloud.

"There are no signs of trauma, so we know she wasn't injured," included another scientist. "She may have just gotten trapped too far north and simply died of exposure."

"Like some bears, perhaps she was going to give birth while hibernating," noted one scientist. "Maybe her cave or resting place was extremely wet and cold, and she didn't survive long enough to give birth."

"Perhaps whatever it was she fed on ," another scientist added. "Maybe they were scarce that year, and she didn't get enough to eat."

"These are all possibilities," added Dr. LeFleur. "We'll have more information once we can analyze the contents of her stomach."

They had all kinds of questions regarding this enormous mother, and they were getting close to getting a good look at the child. The quickly melting ice was revealing more and more of the creature. With each new discovery, the information made its way across the internet. Pictures and speculation was rampant, but the team of scientists managed to get plenty of good science done.

She had the teeth similar to a bear. They surmised that she was a part of the bear family. She did have several traits of bears. Grizzly and polar bears can get quite large. However, they normally do not exceed 4 meters. A bear that large is quite a rarity. This animal was 80 times that size, which led to lots of questions about her origins. Without more information, they could only guess about these things. Once the DNA analysis was complete, they would have answers to a lot more questions, but that would be months away.

After diligently studying the creature for a couple of weeks, something happened that was completely unexpected. It was 4 AM when a research assistant made her way into Dr. LeFleur's tent. "Dr. LeFleur!" she stated anxiously. "Wake up professor! There's trouble!"

"What?" asked the doctor sleepily "what has happened?"

"He's gone..." the RA stated sheepishly.

"Who's gone?"

"Cassiel's baby," replied the RA.

"What?" asked Claude as he jumped out of bed "how is that possible?"

"The ice had melted enough..."

"Are you trying to tell me that the baby just fell out?" asked the Dr. LeFleur as he put on some pants over his pajamas.

"Well sir," stuttered the RA "It was more like a birth."

"But you said he was gone, did he fall into the bay?"

"Um, no sir, after he was born he walked away."

"What?"

"I know it is hard to believe, and I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't witnessed it."

"The baby was born alive?"

"Yes sir, we tried to follow him, but even on those baby legs he moved pretty quickly."

"Which way did he go?"

"Ur South..."

Dr. John Maland spent the entire spring break with the Iapetian people. He heard many stories and learned more of their language and their legends. It was good to get away from the hustle and bustle of big city life, even if it were a working vacation. However, no story was as consequential as the story of the ship entitled the Pickering. Thus, Dr. Maland decided that he needed to research the Pickering upon his arrival home.

However, before he got back to work, like many, he became entranced with the stories of the giant creature in Canada. He read as much as he could about the enormous ultra-yeti. He visited blogs and news organizations. He discussed the situation with colleagues. For a brief time, his own work took a back seat to the buzz of Cassiel.

After catching up on the news around the nation, he had to go to work. He taught his regular schedule. He wished he did his pressing research rather than bothering with current events; however, having up-to-date information was important to him. He was a bit disgusted with the sensationalization of Cassiel, and the lack of good information from the news media. Thus, it took him longer to get the information he thought he needed. This was the truth about his anger about being slightly behind.

Eventually he got to the library to research the Iapetian story. The U.S.S. Pickering was a US war ship. She was a two masted sailing vessel. Weight and configuration made her a brig. She was not the largest vessel in the fleet, but she had 14 guns with a regular compliment of 105 sailors onboard.

The ship and crew had some experience in Naval battle. They had been patrolling against French privateers. The most notable engagement was against the L�Egypte Conquise. This privateering ship was slightly larger and had more firepower. Nevertheless, the Pickering managed to capture that ship named for the French conquering of Egypt.

Eventually, officials permanently assigned it to the US Naval department. Its orders were to join patrolling the waters of the West Indies. However, she was in the northeastern part of the US at the time. Thus, she needed to sail toward Guadeloupe. The Pickering and crew left Newcastle, Delaware in late August of 1800 and never arrived in the West Indies.

Most reports suggest a gale in September caught the naval ship and destroyed it somewhere in the Sargasso Sea. It was part of the voluminous number of legends about the Bermuda triangle.

It seems that there were true aspects of the Iapetian legend. However, instead of a giant monster, their Iapetus was like many of the ancient gods. It was nothing more than a fortunate coincidence. The legend was only series of events that saved the people. A storm that arose just at the proper time and destroyed the ship that was firing upon the island's inhabitants.

"The ship's crew perhaps asked the islanders for help, but none of them spoke English," conjectured John in his journal. "The crew likely fired a warning shot, which is the basis of the 'booming arms' of the 'beast'. When a storm came up and destroyed the ships, it added to the legend of Iapetus."

After Dr. Maland entered the information about the U.S.S Pickering into his journal, he read the events of the day. He discovered in the news that Cassiel had given birth to a live ultra-yeti child. The child had wandered away from James Bay research facility. Information was sketchy on what happened to the child after birth. "Perhaps this is more exaggeration by the media," thought John. "Perhaps they got their facts wrong or misquoted someone."

However, shortly after catching up on his work, he received a call from Dr. LeFleur. "Dr. Maland," the Canadian professor began. "I have been following your reports on Iapetus."

"I am flattered," replied Dr. Maland. "I too have been following your reports. Is it true that the ultra-yeti gave live birth?"

"All evidence leads to this conclusion, but I didn't see the birth myself. Be that as it may, the baby ultra-yeti is not anywhere to be found at the research station."

"So, you don't know where the baby is?"

"That is correct," replied Dr. LeFleur. "The reason I'm calling, is to find out more information on your giant beast."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I read about the legend of Iapetus, and I am curious about your beast."

"From my research," started Dr. Maland. "I have determined that Iapetus is not a beast at all. It is just a series of coincidental storms that have occasionally protected the inhabitants of that island."

"Are you sure on that?"

"As sure as I can be I suppose. Why the sudden interest and the urgency of this phone call?"

"I thought that since many legends have the basis in fact, that Iapetus may help us out should the need arise. If this god was the basis of an actual creature, we could use its help."

"Is the situation that bad?"

"I wouldn't say it is, but should Cassiel's baby head for the metropolitan areas of Canada or the United States, he may do some major damage. We would want to prevent that from happening in any way we could."

"I wish I could help," explained Dr. Maland. "However, I am fairly certain that Iapetus is not an actual creature."

"Thanks for you time then," a dejected Dr. Lefleur stated. "It was just a stab in the dark. Good bye."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help, and I will look forward to your further reports. Good bye," replied Dr. Maland as he hung up the phone.

Dr. LeFleur sat wearily at his desk. He was trying to remember the last time he had slept. Since the baby ultra-yeti walked away from the research station, he had not been in a bed. He managed to catch a couple of catnaps when the opportunity arose, but it had been several days since he had a good nights sleep. As he sat there daydreaming of sleeping, his phone rang.

"Hello this is Dr. LeFleur," he answered.

"I think we have some good news doctor," replied the voice on the other end.

"I could use some," replied the researcher.

"The -- uhh -- monster is still missing, but we have some evidence of -- err -- him."

"What kind of evidence?"

"At first we thought it was some college kids playing some sort of prank."

"Go on..."

"Well, there was this wheat field. It was filled with winter wheat you know."

"And..."

"This young winter wheat field had these interesting patterns put into them."

"What kind of patterns?" asked Dr. LeFleur.

"Uhh -- crop circle type patterns."

"Crop circles? What makes you think this was the baby ultra-yeti?"

"Well you see -- in most of the prank type crop circles they're -- ahh -- circles. But, in this case, the crops were -- ehh -- foot prints."

"Footprints? They could still be a prank. Do you have any other evidence?"

"Umm -- there are also some -- ahh -- droppings."

"Droppings?"

"Yes -- a big pile."

Excellent!" exclaimed Dr. LeFleur as he jumped out of his chair. "Tell me where. I'll be there as quick as I can!"

Dr. LeFleur had been waiting for several days for any indication of the baby ultra-yeti's whereabouts. He grabbed a large flask of coffee, and a couple of cans of caffeinated soda. He had his equipment packed and ready in his aging truck. He jumped in and began driving towards the farm in question. The excitement of a possible yeti sighting had shaken the sleepiness out of him, but it could return at any moment.

The drive was quite a long way from the research station on James Bay. However, the baby had long strides and could cover a great deal of distance. Further, he had been missing for several days. Dr. LeFleur thought it was incredible that the baby could have traveled so far with no one taking notice.

The young ultra-yeti had made it half way to Ottawa, Ontario. If they could not find him and divert him, he could do a great deal of damage in the Canadian Capital. It appeared that he was heading directly for that city. Since they had very little data, they had little to give them an idea of where he may be heading.

Dr. LeFleur was listening to the radio. The local radio station reported several sightings of the baby monster. After several days of silence, the reports of an enormous, white, and bear-like creature came filing in. It was as if large white monsters filled the woods and fields of parts of Canada. Reports came from all over southwestern Quebec and the northwestern part of the province of Ontario.

Some of the reports conflicted, which is common for this type of thing. Descriptions of the spotted creature widely varied. However, there was no doubt that the baby ultra-yeti was now feeding. Reports of damaged crops and animals began pouring in. As Dr. LeFleur suspected, the animal was omnivorous. He was apparently feeding on all types of plants as well as eating cattle and other domesticated animals.

After a few hours of driving, Dr. LeFleur reached the farm that reported the footprints. Several prints went across the field, and it was reminiscent of a crop circle. Dr. LeFleur briefly studied the prints, and deduced that the baby ultra-yeti had grown quite a bit. This baby was probably 25 to 50 meters tall by now. There were reports all over the area of missing animals and damaged crops. At this rate, the baby could be 50 stories tall by the time he reached Ottawa. If this happened, he would cause a great deal of damage.

The professor took all of the local reports and determined a likely location and heading of the giant baby. He wanted to be able to follow the child and perhaps lure him away from the Canadian Capital. He began making calls on his cell phone. He alerted the authorities of the possible dangers coming their way. He wanted to make sure that the city had plenty of warning to evacuate.

Finally, he spotted the enormous white baby eating the young shoots of a farmer's field. He remarked at how interesting the patterns the child ate in the field. He made numerous circles. This was more like the crop circle patterns of various web pages. These were different because a creature ate the crops rather than flattening them.

Dr. LeFleur was admiring the sheer enormity of the baby ultra-yeti when he his cell phone rang.

"Hello this is Dr. LeFleur."

"Hello Dr. LeFleur, this is General Innes MacWayne."

"Hello General. What can I do for you?"

"My sources say you know more about this 'Ultra-Yeti' than anyone."

Dr. LeFleur could hear the quotes around the words as the general spoke them. "Well, I am in charge of the project. I should be the most knowledgeable."

"So, then you would know how to destroy it."

"What? I haven't given that much thought..."

"You realize that we can in no way allow this creature to destroy Ottawa. Thus, we are making contingency plans. We need to know the creature's vulnerabilities."

"Uhhh -- vulnerabilities?"

"Dr. LeFleur, how can we kill it?"

"I don't know what to say..."

"Let me be frank doctor. We don't want to have to resort to any nuclear weapons. Do you think that conventional missiles or bombs would affect the creature?"

"Nuclear weapons? Aren't we Canadians?"

"The creature can also pose a threat to the United States. The U.S. President has agreed that this threat be eliminated before it reaches their soil."

"General, I understand your position, but I don't have any data that would be of any help. I don't know the vulnerabilities of this creature. My team and I have not looked into that particular question at this time."

"That is fine doctor. Tell me, do you know where the creature is?"

"Errr -- I uhhh -- have -- umm -- not caught up to him yet."

"If you do, could you please inform me at this number?"

"Uhhh -- sure."

"Remember doctor, it would be best for all concerned if this dangerous creature were neutralized before it reaches any population centers. The sooner we control this creature, the better it will be for all of Canada. You do understand that do you not?"

"As soon as -- I see the creature -- I will inform you..."

"The sooner we find him, the sooner we can make our tests. If you don't know its vulnerabilities, then we will have to test our defenses against him. We will need to do that before he reaches any major cities."

"I understand."

"Thanks Dr. LeFleur."

"Good bye General."

The doctor felt the conflict grow within himself. He wanted to study the creature for a while. However, the more he delayed the greater the danger for the city centers. He had to decide what was more important -- scientific research or public property. His initial assessment led him to lie to the general, but this decision was putting people and property in danger.

Dr. Maland was glad he was a long way from the events occurring in Canada. While he would love to observe the giant ultra-yeti in action, he felt much safer observing the creature from a safe distance. He read reports on the internet with great interest.

The internet was full of conflicting stories, so it was difficult to determine what was accurate and what was fictional. Reports of a giant white bear-like creature became wide spread. There were even some reports of this ultra-yeti making it as far south as South Carolina. Certainly, these were fictitious accounts.

The many sites around the internet labeled the young ultra-yeti "Bob the Bumble." It was likely a take on the abominable snowman legend. "Who can say abominable anyway?" asked Dr. Maland to himself. "Al the Abominable Snowman simply would not work..."

One particular website was tracking the sightings of the young monster. The site tracked him from his birthplace at James Bay to the most current and accurate location that they could obtain. The group running the site had to sift through numerous conflicting reports to track the beast. However, it was a very popular site for those interested in the ultra-yeti.

From his own research on the ultra-yeti, he noticed that the beast did not stray too far from a body of water. He never strayed too far from the various reservoirs that dot the province of Quebec. In the creature's general path was the Canadian capital. Certainly, the Canadian government was aware of the creature's movements. They must have some sort of military plan to prevent the creature from destroying Ottawa.

This thought gave Dr. Maland a queasy feeling in his stomach. The thought of the Royal Canadian Air Force sending their F-18s to strike at the young ultra-yeti did not sit well with the professor. After all, the young animal was just trying to survive.

However, this baby was quite capable of doing much property damage. While he was merely a few weeks old, there were many reports that he was 50 meters tall and growing quickly. He could be taller than many building in a short time. If he were to stumble around a city like a bull in a china shop, that alone could do millions of dollars of damage.

The military of the Canadians would certainly strike at Bob before he reached any major cities. They would also likely attack before he reached some of the smaller towns north of Ottawa. He was getting quite close to those towns. "Perhaps they have already attacked," Dr. Maland muttered to himself when his phone rang.

"Hello," the professor said as he put his cell phone to his ear.

"Dr. Maland please," came the voice on the other end of the phone.

"This is Dr. Maland."

"Hello Dr. Maland, it is me Dr. LeFleur."

"Hello Claude I was just thinking about you."

"Oh? Good thoughts I hope John."

"I was looking at Bob's movements."

"Bob?"

"That is the name they gave the ultra-yeti -- Bob the Bumble."

"Ech! That's terrible."

"Yeah, but what are you gonna do?"

"True. The reason I called was about your research anyway."

"My research?"

"Yes John. How do the Iapetians ask for help from Iapetus?"

"In the usual way. A priest or priestess will go to their shrine on the beach and beseech Iapetus to come and smite their enemies. Why?"

"Do you think they could get their god to help you?"

"Me? Why do I need help?"

"Do you think Iapetus would come as a favor to you?"

"Claude -- Iapetus is a superstition. This god is nothing more than a storm that has helped the natives out of a few tight spots. He is not a creature."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Come on Dr. LeFleur -- I'm sure I have never seen the monster. I've only heard the stories. They are just like all of the other stories of its kind."

"I wouldn't believe in giant monsters either if I wasn't tracking one."

"While you have a point ..."

"Listen John -- the military has moved me away from the area around the baby. He is getting close to some populated areas and they want to end all of this. That can mean only one thing -- military strikes."

"I figured..."

"Well this creature has an extremely tough hide. They won't be able to penetrate it with their conventional weapons. I'm almost sure of it."

"So, how would Iapetus help?"

"I don't know. I'm just grasping at straws. If he gets out of control, they are talking nuclear weapons. I just don't want that type of thing to go on."

"I suppose I could ask, but I don't think it would do any good..."

"It would help your research..."

"It will take me a couple of days. I have classes to teach and papers to grade. I could leave on Friday morning."

"It would make me feel better."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later."

"Good bye Dr. Maland, and thanks."

The farther south the baby ultra-yeti went, the more difficult it was for Dr. LeFleur to follow. The area of southern Canada where the baby was now wandering was swampy, had many reservoirs, and had few roads. Dr. LeFleur's truck did not have off-road capability, so he had to stick to whatever road he could find. The ultra-yeti was not interested in staying near roads but stayed near bodies of water. Thus, it was becoming a very difficult task to follow him.

A radio-tracking device would have been a big help, but there were no adequate devices available. Any time the professor attempted to fire anything into the thick hide of the young creature, it would bounce right off. Thus, tranquilizer darts and tagging devices were completely useless against the wandering baby.

The baby's route still indicated that he was going to Ottawa. Dr. LeFleur noticed a huge lack of thrill seekers. He expected that there would be throngs of people attempting to see and photograph this unique creature. However, the area was strangely quiet.

Despite his desire to do otherwise, Dr. LeFleur gave General MacWayne regular updates. Even if we wished to hide his movements from the officials, he knew that it would be a wasted effort. Thus, the military was aware of Dr. LeFleur's movements, and he was getting closer to Ottawa.

The giant snow-white creature crossed highway 117 just east of Mont Laurier, Canada, and his follower was just a short distance behind him on highway 309. The baby was a bit farther east, but still heading south. A speckling of small towns along this stretch of highway were eerily quiet.

The weary professor checked his map, and realized that if the baby were going to reach Ottawa, he would have to cross highway 309. "If I wanted to protect Ottawa," he thought to himself. "I would make my stand on this road."

Dr. LeFleur started to get anxious. With the empty small towns, he was unable to fill his tank. His truck was beginning to run low on fuel. He could not track the beast on foot. He shook his weary head and mumbled, "Much further and I won't have to worry about him. The military will handle it."

He kept heading south looking for signs of the baby and for any signs of life. Here and there, he would see glimpses of a huge mound of white moving off in the distance. At the crest of a small hill, he saw a dark creature. It was a dark green. "Am I dreaming?" questioned the sleepy professor to himself. "Could that be Iapetus?"

He kept driving and quickly discovered that the dark green beast he saw was a column of military vehicles. He had reached the end of the line. A roadblock was setup, and they would not let him pass. He came to a stop and greeted the soldier staffing the roadblock. "Hello Soldier. I guess it is the end of the line for me."

"Hello Dr. LeFleur," replied the soldier. "We have been expecting you."

The soldier radioed the arrival of Dr. LeFleur. Soon, there were a number of soldiers marching towards him. A myriad of things went through his mind, but he shook them off. His felt his mind might be playing tricks on him because of his lack of sleep.

"Dr. LeFleur," stated a broad shouldered man as he walked up and put out his hand. "I'm General MacWayne."

"General," replied Claude not knowing whether to salute or take the offered hand.

"We have been expecting you. We appreciate your commitment to this matter; however, your duty is now finished and we'll take it from here."

"What is happening?"

"Come with me," stated the General as he walked back towards a line of tents along the road. "Dr. LeFleur, we have set up a perimeter protecting our Nation's Capital. If that monster crosses this road, he'll sure be sorry."

"General, the hide of that -- the ultra-yeti is very thick. Do you really think your weapons can penetrate it?"

"We won't know that until we have to actually shoot the monster. However, we have to protect Ottawa -- and Montreal. This beast could do tremendous damage to those cities just by walking through. Bull in a China shop and all that!"

"So, what are you going to do?"

"We have detection devices and scouts all along this stretch of highway. If we get a positive identification, we go to work. We've got tanks and jets and rockets. Lots and lots of rockets!"

The general's eyes became wide with excitement. It was obvious that he was looking forward to the confrontation. Dr. LeFleur was feeling a bit queasy when the alarm arrived. The young ultra-yeti had just entered their perimeter. The General took Dr. LeFleur into his command center where they could watch everything. "This is going to be cool," stated the General.

The Royal Canadian Air Force took off in their f-18s from the airport in Ottawa, but the first line of defense was the tanks and artillery. For the days leading up to this event, they had amassed the largest military operation in Canadian history. They had as many C2 Tanks as time allowed and there were lots of them. They also had a collection of C2 and C3 howitzers and several M109A+ mobile howitzers.

Several of the infantry had antitank rockets and many shoulder held rocket launchers. Just in case, they also scrambled some rocket launching ADATS. The General was of the opinion you cannot have to many rockets. Thus, he had as many rocket launching weapons as he could get into that area north of Ottawa.

From the command center, General MacWayne gave the order to move out. The big guns open fired upon the ultra-yeti. For a large animal, the yeti was quite agile. The boom of the big guns startled him and he would flinch at each one. Some of these flinches were enough to make the projectile miss. The hits did not have any effect on the thick hide of young creature. His reactions were like those of a person swatting at mosquitoes.

"Send in the tanks," ordered the General.

The tanks roared to life and moved toward the ultra-yeti. They moved in to surround the beast and force him to move away from the large Canadian cities. When the tanks open fired upon the monster, the baby roared. The sting of the projectiles and the loud boom upset the young one greatly. With great dexterity, the baby monster grabbed one of the tanks and flung it away. He kicked a line of them and destroyed them.

With the creature fighting back and inflicting damage, the tanks retreated. The airplanes were now ready to attack. The jets gathered into several formations and started to fly towards the monster. They were going to keep their distance from young beast and launch their missiles at him.

As wave after wave of missiles came towards the ultra-yeti, the monster became more and more agitated. He had been a docile creature before, but suddenly he was a fierce monster. He grabbed large boulders and threw them at anything that moved. He smashed tanks and artillery. He pulled full-grown trees, roots and all, from the ground and used them as fly swatters.

An f-18 flew too close on its pass, and was smashed to bits by a tree. Rocks and trees began flying. A large swath of destruction was forming, but the beast was still heading south. In fact, instead of driving the beast north, he began moving south at a quicker pace. He wanted to get at those creatures that were causing him pain.

He kicked and scraped and roared as he moved. Tanks and artillery pieces became tangled pieces of junk metal. The ADATS launched their rockets. The soldiers launched their rockets. However, these rockets just angered the beast. Their military action had caused the ultra-yeti to be in full rampage.

The yeti swatted aside the rockets as if they were flies. They just aggravated the monster even more. He ran after a several soldiers and they were no match for the speed of the young beast. He scooped the soldiers by the handful and began putting them in his mouth. The monster chewed several soldiers and spit them out. This caused the infantry to order a full retreat. Panic set in on the soldiers on the ground, and they ran. They ran in every direction yelling and screaming.

In the command center, General MacWayne looked in awe. He saw his highly trained troupes break discipline and scatter like scared rabbits. He could not communicate with the infantry, be he was still in radio contact with the tanks. He ordered them to resume their barrage. He hoped that the attack from the north would change the direction of the southerly moving monster.

Again, the tanks moved toward the enormous white monster. Their guns fired loudly. However, the beast ignored them. He continued his southerly rampage. He tore rocks and trees from places that they have been for centuries. A cloud of dust began swirling around the monster with the occasional rock or tree flying out of it.

The f-18s had run out of missiles and other weaponry so they had to return to the airport. This allowed the young beast to concentrate on the large column of tanks that lined the road towards Ottawa. With the rocks and trees, tanks and howitzers began flying out of the growing dust cloud the creature was stirring.

The monster gradually came closer and closer to Ottawa, and the Canadian military was helpless to stop him. Eventually, the ultra-yeti reached the Ottawa River. He just had to follow the river towards Ottawa and he would cause all kinds of damage. However, he headed towards Montreal. He followed the river to Lac Des Deux Montagnes and vanished.

"Vanished?" thought Dr. John Maland to himself. "How can an enormous snow-white monster vanish like that?"

Dr. Maland was gathering all the information about the ultra-yeti that he could get. If he were going to ask Iapetus to help with their problem, he was going to have to know where to send him.

The last report Dr. Maland read was that "Bob the Bumble" vanished somewhere in the Ottawa River basin. If he got into the St. Lawrence Seaway, the young ultra-yeti could end up anywhere along the Great Lakes. He could menace anywhere from upstate New York, to northern Minnesota. That was a long stretch. It was not enough information to give to the mythical creature Iapetus.

"Why am I doing this?" he asked himself. "Iapetus doesn't exist. All of this work for a silly notion. I have finals to score. I shouldn't be wasting my time fetching mythical beasts."

Dr. Maland scratched his head and paced the floor for a few minutes. He did not like all of the pressure that was suddenly put upon him. With this pressure of this sort, he often found himself talking to himself. "On the other hand," he continued. "It would be a great opportunity to see their summoning ritual. It would be worth that."

"But, where do I tell them to go?" he continued in his internal debate. "How do I tell them to send their protector there?"

Dr. Maland paced some more and internally debated himself over the merits of the trip. The deciding factor to go on this journey was the ritual. However, he was going to need to find out where the creature was. Without this information, his trip would be useless. He decided to call Dr. Claude LeFleur to see if he had any more information.

"Hello?" enquired Dr. LeFleur as he answered his phone.

"Hello Claude. This is Dr. John Maland calling."

"Hello John. How are you?"

"Fine thanks. The reason I'm calling is that I'm going to need to know more about the young ultra-yeti's whereabouts. I can't go summon Iapetus without some knowledge of where I'm sending him."

"He vanished in the river. We don't know where he is..."

"You don't have any ideas? You can't even guess where he is going?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I've been put out of the loop. I now get my information from the same place that you do."

"I'm sorry. OK then, I guess I will talk to you later."

"I'm sorry too. Thanks for your help on this."

"Sure thing. Good bye Claude."

"Talk to you later John."

"That wasn't much help," John thought to himself. Then he realized it did not really matter where to send the creature. "This is a mythical beast! I'm only here to see the ritual. It isn't like he's real or anything. This trip isn't going to affect anything."

"So, where do I send him?" John continued with his internal debate. "I shouldn't make it too hard. Something easy. I know. I'll send him up the Hudson River. New York should be easy to find!"

Dr. Maland created a map of the eastern U.S. He made sure that the Iapetian Island was included. That way, he could direct the natives on where to send Iapetus.

"That is..." Dr. Maland continued. "If they wish to do us this favor."

John gathered up his supplies and filled his sailboat. His finals were going to have to wait. His research was going to come first this time. His students would understand.

Dr. Maland sailed into the heart of the Bermuda Triangle, and did not have trouble. He arrived at the island, and he was greeting in the usual fashion. It was an unscheduled visit, but it appeared that they expected him to come. A couple of the Iapetians met him at the beach as he arrived.

He asked to be taken to the tribal leaders. He wanted to initiate the plea for help as soon as possible. There was no need wasting time. After his meeting, the village came to life. They agreed to ask their deity for help.

The preparations began on the beach. There were two massive carved pillars sunk deeply on the beach. They almost looked like two highly tattooed legs sticking out of the sand.

Between these pillars, they began digging a deep trench. The natives lined the trench with palm leaves. Once the trench was fully lined with leaves, they began filling it up with fruits of all types.

The native trees produced plenty of fruits. It was a major element of the Iapetian diet. They were using their excess as an offering to Iapetus their god. "This is pretty standard sacrifice," Dr. Maland noted. "It is generous of them to perform their ceremony for someone else's benefit."

Once the Iapetians had filled the pit, they built a fire farther up the beach. Around the fire, they placed their drumming equipment. "They are going to use dance and song to bring their deity to them," Dr. Maland continued in his notes. "I hope I can follow the ceremony as I assume it will be in their native language."

"When the sun touches the distant waters the ceremony will begin." Dr. Maland learned from the tribal leaders.

Just as the sun began to set, the drumming began. The islanders began their chants. They were chanting the word for "join us" in their language. It was a very hypnotic chant. The drumbeat was very deep and rhythmic. It was as if the entire island shook with the beat of the music.

After several minutes of drumming and chanting, it stopped. From a nearby hut, out stepped a Priestess in ceremonial garb. She had a dress made from woven leaf fibers. They had taken the fibers and made a thread of them. They took this thread and wove it into an intricate cloth. It was surprisingly strong and soft. The cloth was very time consuming to create, and they used it only in ceremonial clothing.

The Priestess began dancing closer and closer to the pillars. The drummers played softly. She was gyrating and waving her hands in a fashion similar to a hula. "It is very reminiscent of Polynesian dancing," Dr. Maland wrote in his notebook.

She danced closer and closer to the pillars on the beach. The drummers played louder and louder. A rhythmic pulse began pounding and pounding throughout the beach. The entire party was rocking back and forth with the beat. She got closer and closer to the pit. When she reached the side of the pit at the farthest point from the sea, it all stopped. Dr. Maland noted that the rhythms and the sound were very hypnotic. At every point when the drumming stopped, he felt himself jerk.

The Priestess dropped to her knees at the mouth of the pit. She began bowing to the sea. Up and down she went. The drummers let her proceed in silence. After a few bows in silence, she sat on her knees and began her song. Dr. Maland struggled with the language, but he wrote his notes in short hand. He tried to get as much as he could understand, and this is what he noted.

Dr. Maland had difficulty understanding the rest of the chant. He just did not have enough grasp of the language. However, it did sound as if she was inviting Iapetus for a date. Much of what he translated sounded very silly to him, and he tried to take the ceremony seriously. However, occasionally he had to suppress a laugh.

At one point, he was suppressing a laugh when the waves around the beach became very choppy. They looked very different from a regular tide coming in. When the strange waves began reaching the shore at a regular interval, the priestess stopped her chant. She sat in a prostrated position and the drums began playing softly again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dr. Maland thought he spotted something in the water. The darkness was growing slowly, and he thought he was imagining things. The hypnotic drumbeats slowly grew in intensity. Dr. Maland thought he saw something in the water again. "Are some whales passing by?" Dr. Maland asked himself silently.

The steady drumbeat became louder and louder. Dr. Maland felt himself swaying with the beat like the natives. Another passing image from the sea caught Dr. Maland's attention. "Am I hypnotized?" he asked himself. "Does this ceremony create some sort of mass hypnotic field that causes ships to run aground?"

As the intensity of the drums grows, the Priestess begins her dance again. The sea becomes dark. The irregular waves continue but the water becomes white with foam. Off the coast, the water is very dark.

Suddenly the drums stop. Dr. Maland is startled again, and notices the creature. The enormous lizard-like creature emerges from the water and consumes the offering in one gulp. "Iapetus is real!" Dr. Maland screams. With that rush of emotion, Dr. Maland fell unconscious.

General Innes MacWayne had scouts searching all along the Ottawa River looking for the baby ultra-yeti. He did not want it to get into the St. Lawrence Seaway or the monster would be very difficult to track. His Canadian military search teams had searched for quite some time, and they had not come up with anything.

"Finding a 100 meter tall, snow-white monster shouldn't be this hard," he mumbled to himself.

"Sir!" shouted one of the search team leaders as he saluted the general. "Still no sign. Sir!"

"Alright soldier," replied the general after returning the salute. He turned to one of the commanders and continued. "Colonel, take your brigade towards Ottawa. If the monster heads that way, we need to head him off. I'll send another brigade towards Montreal. This search is fruitless, so we had better protect our towns. I'll notify the U.S. secretary of defense about this."

The Colonel took his troops and their vehicles towards Ottawa. It was a long column of tanks, rocket launchers, and personnel carriers. A similar caravan headed towards Montreal. The creature's whereabouts were still unknown, but they did not want to leave their major cities unguarded. It was still possible that the monster could surface and destroy one of those towns.

The call between General MacWayne and the Secretary of Defense of the United States did not go well for the Canadian military man. The secretary was fuming mad that the Canadian military did not stop the beast. Further, the news that they did not know where the monster was located also did not go over well.

The U.S. had mobilized some units to deal with the beast, but now they did not know if they properly deployed the units. The Secretary strengthened the military's position along the Canadian border. He also ordered regular Recon missions over the northern states where the monster could emerge. He demanded that they find this monster before causing damage to any American city.

They knew now that the Canadian tanks and rockets were no match for the young monster. The Secretary asked the states to mobilize the National Guard of the affected areas. As much military might, as could be mustered at such short notice, was going to face the beast. The President even allowed the use of nuclear force.

After several very tense days, a reconnaissance plane spotted the creature in the Adirondack Mountains. He had crossed into upstate New York and appeared still to be on the rampage. He had destroyed several vacation spots and smashed some buildings of some small New York towns. His path was much more erratic than when he was in Canada. He was going up and down mountains and sometimes saying in valleys.

General Kenneth "Kit" R. Mann was in charge of the task force to destroy the monster. Canadian General MacWayne briefed him on all of the information that he could provide. After the briefing, he called for Dr. LeFleur to join him at task force headquarters in Albany, New York. He wanted the expert on this ultra-yeti beside him to determine the best strategy for destroying this menace.

Dr. LeFleur arrived by special jet early the next day and met with General Mann.

"Good Morning Dr. LeFleur," the General spoke as the two men shook hands.

"General," replied Dr. LeFleur.

"Thanks for flying out here on such short notice. I'm General Kenneth Mann, but you can call me Kit."

"General," replied Dr. LeFleur curtly.

"Very well, General works too. I know you are somewhat attached to this -- er -- animal. I can respect that. However, we cannot allow -- uh -- him to continue on his rampage. He is causing quite a stir upstate. He's caused quite a lot of damage already."

"The barrage of missiles and what-not has upset him."

"Quite! Be that as it may, this creature was riled up by Canadian forces but is taking it out on American property."

"I guess so."

"Do you have any ideas on how to calm him down? Does music have charms to calm this savage beast?"

"The quote is ... never mind. He will calm down on his own when he gets tired. Or, when he gets hungry."

"Using a carrot rather than a stick eh? I like it. We should air drop in some food for this -- em -- animal."

"That might be a good idea! You could use food to lure him away from populated areas."

"Fair enough Dr. LeFleur. What does this -- ah -- animal eat?"

"From my brief studies, his diet is very similar to that of a bear. He is capable of catching large animals like moose and deer. Plus, he has eaten lots of plant material like wheat."

"It is your opinion that we could lure him with food away from populated areas."

"I believe it could be fruitful. However, he does seem to be migrating southward. I cannot say where his final destination will take him. His kind may have had a hunting and grazing ground somewhere that he is trying to get. He is the first of his kind that we are aware of, and much of his behavior is still a mystery."

"That is valuable information for us doctor. Now, for a bit of unpleasant talk... How do you suppose we could kill it?"

"I haven't the foggiest. His hide is very thick and the munitions that the Canadian military used on him had little effect -- other than making him mad."

"Very good doctor. I appreciate your candor and hope you're wrong about that. Thanks for coming, and I'm sure I will want more information from you later. Make yourself at home here. If you need anything, ask the soldier outside. We'll keep you posted."

"Am I a prisoner?"

"Not at all! It is just that we don't want you getting in the way. You will be kept safe. We'll feed all of the information we get to you from this computer. You can monitor our progress and continue your study of this -- er -- animal."

General Mann left Dr. Lefleur in the tent and started making some plans. He determined that an excellent course of action would be to lure the monster to a remote location with some food. The U.S. military would attack the creature at this location. It was determined that with the prevailing winds, the location of the creature, and the large population centers, it would be a very bad idea to use nuclear weapons.

A few miles northwest of Herkimer Landing, New York the military began stockpiling food. It was a very remote part of the Adirondack Park Preserve. It was difficult to reach from the ground, so the General could not put much of a land force in the area. However, plenty of airpower was available.

When the young ultra-yeti came upon the food, he lingered. There was a lot of food there, and a few airdrops of more food occurred while he was still there. He feasted mightily, and once his stomach was full, the young beast rested. Since his emergence from James Bay, he had never lingered long in one place. He had been like a fugitive. He would rest briefly at one place or another, but not for long stretches. This spot he found to his liking.

The enormous creature for the first time since his birth, stretched out to sleep. He flattened out a large section of forest, and went to sleep. He looked quite content. He was no longer in a rampage.

The general let him rest. He had time to move later. He may even make a few more airdrops for the creature. In this way, he would have time to mobilize his forces more effectively. If he could convince the creature to stay there for a few days, he could bring down a large amount of firepower.

The young ultra-yeti did like his spot in the woods. There was plenty to eat from the airdrops and drink from nearby West Canada Lake and other lakes. He lingered. He was much calmer now. He was almost leisurely. After a night of restful sleep, he still lingered. He basked in the sunshine of that spring morning. He even spent a second night at the spot. He had found a peaceful spot.

All the while plans were being made. Plans that were not in the ultra-yeti's best interest. If he had known what things were in the works, he would have not lingered. He would have left with all due haste. General Mann organized a night strike. He would hit the beast as it slept. He would hit this monster hard while it was still resting. Strike while it was at his most vulnerable.

While the ultra-yeti was sleeping in his makeshift nest, several F-111s took off from their base. Along with these, several F-117 stealth fighters with a full compliment of smart bombs started their sortie. Off the coast, the navy launched several cruise missiles. The attack was coordinated to strike the beast and the surrounding area simultaneously.

At precisely 23:30 EST, the area around the ultra-yeti erupted in huge fireball. Smart bombs were exploding and cruise missiles were striking their target. The peaceful slumber that the young ultra-yeti enjoyed had erupted into a massive coordinated strike.

Fire and smoke surrounded the area. A recon team had placed their lasers on the beast and guided the munitions to their target. Once the smoke cleared, a huge crater remained. The beast was gone.

However, he did not vanish in the ball of fire. He had jumped up just before the first bomb hit. Perhaps it was the faint whistle, or perhaps it was just instinct. In any event, the young monster jumped from his nest before it exploded and ran. With his long legs, he could cover ground quickly. The recon troops could not keep up with him. However, he was headed across the mountains towards New York's state capital, Albany. He was once again in full rampage.

Dr. Maland slowly came to consciousness. He did not know how long he had been out, but to him he felt he was out for days. In fact, he was not out for more than a couple of minutes. The building excitement and the sudden and unexpected site of the giant monster overwhelmed his senses.

After coming aware of his surroundings, he began to take in the giant beast. Iapetus was lying on his stomach next to a fire the natives built in the pit. The aquatic creature tucked his hands back, and they rested besides his waist. A young native was relaxing in the palm of one hand and she was leaning back upon the webbing between his fingers.

Many of the members of the Iapetian community were patting the enormous creature on the head, and he looked quite at peace. He had his eyes closed, and he had fully retracted the spines upon his back.

Dr. Maland estimated that Iapetus was at least 200 meters long. However, he noted that a good percentage of that was tail. While on his hind legs, the giant beast was probably between 75 and 100 meters tall. He was somewhat reminiscent of a green iguana, but Dr. Maland did not believe he was a reptile. His legs pulled up under him more like a bird while reptile legs stick straight out from the hips.

Thus, when Iapetus stood, he balanced himself upon the seesaw of his hips. He would use his tail as a balance. His spines were retractable and there was a membrane between each spine. The spines would aid in swimming and make him look more menacing. "With his spines retracted and him resting upon the beach," noted Dr. Maland. "The giant monster is almost cute."

"While Iapetus was mostly a dark forest green," wrote in his journal. "He does have stripes of various colors."

Upon close review, Dr. Maland noticed several colors. He noticed red, blue, and orange in some of the stripes. These markings -- Dr. Maland guessed -- allowed the creature to hide from predators. Perhaps they were to attract females. The thought of more creatures like Iapetus or predators of him almost made Dr. Maland faint again.

Dr. Maland continued to observe the giant beast and even got the nerve to put his hand upon him. The creature was cold to his touch. "He's cold blooded," he noted.

The more he observed the beast, the more he became curious about how he came about. Who were his ancestors? Is he the last of his kind? How old was he? These questions he could not answer. "This kind of stuff is more suited for Dr. LeFleur..." Dr. Maland mumbled to himself. "Dr. LeFleur!"

He shook himself as if he had just awakened from some strange dream. He scrambled to find the priestess. She was lying upon a bed upon the beach. She was fast asleep. All of his efforts to wake her failed. His mind then turned to some of the tribe elders. He found them telling stories around the fire.

"What do we do from here?" the professor asked them.

"Nothing will happen until morning," replied one of the elders. "We rest and revel."

"Rest? How can we rest?"

"Iapetus will not be moved until the sunrise. There is no need for anything but rest."

"But..."

"Sit. Listen to our stories. He has done us -- and you -- a great favor. Take heart in that. The sun will renew your worries soon enough."

Dr. Maland sat and listened to the elders speak. It all hit him in a huge wave and he did not take notes. He heard the tribal stories and the gratefulness they felt towards the giant beast that now sat upon their beach. The concern for what was happening in the north began to fade. He relaxed.

The waves washing against the shore was a soothing sound to John. He was swaying to the waves. Back and forth he rocked. He was at peace. He was calm. He heard a soft voice calling his name. His mind struggled against the scene. Up he jumped in a start. "What? What is it?" John grunted as he awoke.

It was the priestess, and she said, "It is time."

"Time for what?" John asked trying to clear his head.

"The generous Iapetus cannot read your maps," explained the priestess.

"Iapetus? Maps?"

"You must take him to your need."

"Right! Right! The ultra-yeti."

"Come."

The sun was just beginning to rise. Dr. Maland's boat had been loaded with supplies and was resting upon the beach next to Iapetus. The priestess took Dr. Maland over to Iapetus's head so he could see John when he awoke. After the priestess said a few words, the giant eye of the beast opened.

Dr. Maland felt he could fall into the deep pupil of monster. The pupil dilated and focused upon John. He suddenly felt like he was going to be breakfast, but as his knees were about to fail, the monster gave a snort. John almost felt insulted. "Wasn't I good enough to eat?" he thought to himself.

After a few more words from the priestess, John boarded his vessel. With a nudge from Iapetus's nose, he was launched. He unfurled his sails and headed north. "Where am I going to go?" he mumbled to himself. "The last I knew the ultra-yeti had disappeared."

Dr. Maland decided that when he got in range of North America, he could use his cell phone to call Dr. LeFleur. That should take care of that problem. The only other problem was speed. At his current rate of travel, it would take several days just to reach Florida. It was the calmest John had ever experienced sailing around the Caribbean.

Suddenly, that became a moot point. Iapetus nudged John northward. He almost fell out of the boat as it suddenly accelerated. John had gone from slow going to the fastest he had ever sailed in a manner of moments.

Iapetus pushed him farther north. He used the sail as a rudder to steer the boat. He would move the sail a little towards the starboard or port to change directions. Otherwise, the sail was straight back as it flapped in the breeze as they sped along.

John had to make sure they got close enough to the shore to get a cell phone signal or they would end up in the Arctic Ocean before he could determine where he needed to go. After a few hours of sailing, John found himself coming quickly upon the coast of North Carolina. "How fast are we going?" John asked himself. "And how do I stop?"

John got a signal and quickly called his colleague Dr. LeFleur.

"Hello John. How are you doing?" Dr. LeFleur said as he answered his phone.

"Well -- we're on our way..."

"What? Who's we?"

"I'm on my boat -- being pushed by Iapetus.."

"What?"

"It was a shock to me to -- but we need to know where to go..."

"Go?"

"Snap out of it Claude! I don't know how long I'll have a signal. Where is -- Bob -- er -- the young ultra-yeti?"

"Albany..."

"Alban.."

"He is almost to Albany... John??? Hello?"

John lost his signal, but he knew enough. He would try to steer Iapetus into the Hudson River. However, before that, he needed to go hard to starboard or, they were about to crash right into the North Carolina shore. He could not push hard enough against the sail to make any headway. He could not budge the rudder either. They were simply moving to fast.

John began waving frantically at his impromptu motor. He caught the attention of the beast and the propulsion halted, but he was still traveling very quickly. The monster stuck his head out of the water, and observed the obstacle ahead. He nudged the boat and it made a wide right turn. The two barely missed some rocks in the shallows and headed farther out to sea.

John checked his GPS and mapped out a course. After the narrow escape, they returned to their previous speed. "This guy can really go," John noted. "I wonder how long it would take for him to swim around the world."

John snapped out of his curiosity. He needed to concentrate on sailing. He did not want to smash into some rocks or the shore again. It took the pair another couple of hours to reach the mouth of the Hudson River. John had learned that Iapetus was quite responsive to his hand signals. Therefore, they managed to go along the coast swiftly and safely.

The area around Manhattan Island was quite busy. There were ships and traffic of all sorts. Without any prompting from John, the pair navigated the congested water with quite a bit of ease. He managed to communicate to Iapetus that they needed to go up stream on the Hudson River. The two entered the river and headed upstream. Their speed had dropped off considerably.

It took the two a scant amount of time to go from the Caribbean to New York City, but it took them almost the same amount of time to go from New York City to Albany. It was much harder for them to go against the current of the river and avoid the obstacles. Thus, Iapetus was quite cautious.

The closer they got to the Capital of New York State, the more debris they encountered in the water. There were boat fragments, and even a few docks were floating down the river. All manner of floating objects were coming down the river.

The going became so hazardous that Dr. Maland signaled for Iapetus to stop. They could no longer safely make their way upriver. The debris coming down the river was just getting too thick.

Dr. Maland beached his boat along the shore and wondered what to do next. That is when a large white fuzzy ball caught his eye. The rampaging ultra-yeti was responsible for the debris in the river. John pointed at the white bear-like creature. Iapetus understood the hand signal and walked along the riverbank towards the giant monster. John just sat on the bank and watched him go.

The first strike against the ultra-yeti had missed. The beast moved quickly eastward. His pace was faster than the recon soldiers could run by a long shot. The hurriedly called in for support and an Apache helicopter with night vision capability took over tracking the monsters erratic easterly run. It appeared that the ultra-yeti was going to go well north of Albany as he altered his route toward Lake George.

His path did not lead towards Lake George for long. He altered his path and headed northeast. Before the helicopter navigator could radio their heading, the ultra-yeti changed direction again. Once again, he ran eastward towards Lake George. The enormous monster changed directions several times, but it appeared that his destination was Lake George.

"Perhaps he plans on doing his disappearing act in Lake George like he did up north," speculated the co-pilot of the helicopter as he reported to base.

"Lake George is pretty long," replied the pilot. "He probably doesn't even know its there."

The two men in the helicopter continued tracking the beast as he made an erratic run eastward.

"His serpentine needs some work," joked the co-pilot.

Before the pilot could respond, the ultra-yeti reached Interstate 87. Upon reaching that thoroughfare, the beast made a quick turn southward. He began running down the road, and he abandoned his strange path. He was keeping right on the interstate. He knocked over lampposts. Bridges and overpasses collapsed under his immense weight. The ground shook violently as he ran and some buildings along the road crumbled with the violent vibrations that he created. The monster was once again headed for Albany. However, there were a few other towns also in his path.

General Mann threw all he had at Interstate 87. His priority was to stop the beast. He wanted to prevent as much destruction as possible, but with the location and heading of the monster, that was going to be difficult.

The sun was just beginning to rise as the beast entered Glens Falls, NY. General Mann was able to secure much military firepower for the battle against the ultra-yeti. His first order was to send in several waves of various attack helicopters to attack the monster south of Glens Falls. He ordered them to strike as soon as the beast crossed the Hudson River.

Unfortunately, as the monster ran up to the bridge it began crumbling with the shaking of the ground. When the giant creature stepped upon the bridge, the southbound lane collapsed. The collapse tripped up the monster and he tumbled into the Hudson River. Some of the pilots hesitated, but others took the opportunity to strike. Hellfire missiles came roaring from the south towards the fallen monster. The explosions ripped the part of the bridge that had remained, and several missiles struck the ultra-yeti. However, the water of the river prevented the beast fur from catching fire, and the missiles did not harm him to any noticeable degree.

A second wave a missiles came from the helicopters, but these just finished tearing up the bridge as the monster had recovered from his fall and began running along the river. The helicopters followed attempting to get further strikes upon him. Some of the helicopters had not yet fired any of their armaments. Bullets and missiles began flying from the aircrafts. However, they succeeded in destroying nearby buildings more than they succeeded in stopping the beast.

No longer was the monster following the interstate. He was now following the Hudson River. While this did slow his pace, it did not remove Albany from the path of destruction. Further, if the beast continued to follow the river downstream, he could eventually reach Manhattan. This would be a devastating blow if the U.S. were to lose New York City to this rampaging beast.

The helicopters were running low on fuel and ammunition so General Mann ordered the A-10 Thunderbolt IIs into battle. The A-10s could linger longer around the beast, and with their maneuverability, they hoped to distract the monster. The General ordered the A-10 pilots to get as close to the monster as safety allowed. Albany and Manhattan depended upon them to change the giant monster's path.

The plan of attack for these tank killers was to fly in single file along the river valley. Each plane would fire a maverick missile and follow the missile in towards the target. When the airplane was as close to the monster as the pilot felt comfortable, they would open up their GAU-8 avenger cannons put a line of fire across the beast's chest as they banked eastward. The idea was to either destroy the ultra-yeti or have him follow the planes to the east.

Some of the A-10s had cluster bombs and other ground destroying weapons. However, most were simply equipped with mavericks. They also had a full load of the depleted uranium tank busting ammunition for the A-10's cannon.

The young ultra-yeti continued to follow the Hudson River and was only momentarily side tracked by a small town here and there. He would briefly leave the river's waters to stomp on a building that happened to catch the young monster's eye.

When the tank killing airplanes finally reached their target, the monster was destroying a bridge that passed over the river. The small town of Schuylerville was about to experience a rude awakening. Luckily, the military had evacuated the civilians in the path of the monster. The distinct whine of the A-10s caught the ear of the white monster, but it did little to distract him from the destruction of the bridge, which blocked his path.

The attack aircraft swooped in upon the wary animal and began their assault. Missile after missile struck the beast and many bullets flew at him. The entire town erupted in a massive fireball. One missile missed the beast and struck a gas station that caused a change reaction of explosions. Flames engulfed the small town.

Still the planes pressed on and so did the giant monster. The bridge that had once blocked his path was no longer, and thus, he pressed forward. He would occasionally swat at the approaching planes, but they were too maneuverable. A few had broken off their attack and gained some altitude. These planes dropped their bombs upon the monster. The river began to widen with the craters left by the attacking A-10s, but they could not steer the monster from his course of following the river.

Wave after wave of airplane fired upon the mighty monster, but it had little effect on him. It was as if he was caught in a swarm of mosquitoes. They were simply an annoyance, and he pressed on. Without warning, he rushed at one of the A-10s. The lead pilot banked quickly eastward, but the following A-10 was too slow. The monster was upon him and grabbed his jet. The engine whined and the pilot lunged forward as the ultra-yeti stopped the planes forward progress.

The young monster shook the plane as if it were a rattle and then threw the plane to one side. The rest of the A-10 pilots avoided crashing into the enormous creature, but they had to break off their attack.

The tough aircraft withstood shaking, but the pilot lost consciousness. The plane crashed a bit off in the distance, but by some miracle, the pilot survived the ordeal. The plane had a few stress cracks, but it did not break apart.

However, the weapons were ineffective against the thick hide of the monster. The bullets would penetrate the outer layer of skin, but they would be absorbed and pressed out again. They did no damage to the creature. The missiles did not even faze him. He pressed on along the river and the A-10s admitted defeat and headed home.

Once the long line of evacuation vehicles had left the stretch of river north of Albany, General Mann sent in the tanks. His last line of defense before the beast reached Albany was going to be a long column of Abrams M1A2 Tanks. They were now speeding along highway 4 north of Albany.

The attack of the airplanes did not steer him clear of the river. He continued to follow its course. Those attacks did manage to irritate him the more and he stomped more buildings than he did in the previous stretch of river. This did give the tanks the opportunity to get farther north as he had slowed his pace to destroy.

Small town after small town was laid to waste in the wake of the monsters path. He crushed homes and businesses. Gas stations exploded and fires broke out all along the river. Upon each demolished building, the giant creature gave out a roar of victory. He would then run to the next town for more wanton destruction.

The tanks finally caught up to the monster in Mechanicville. Several tanks stopped upon a bridge crossing the river, and turned to face the oncoming beast. Others went fully across in an effort to surround the rampaging monster. They had him nearly surrounded when the open fired.

The entire town shook with the exploding shells of the tanks. The monster charged the bridge and with one swing of his mighty hand, the bridge collapsed. They fired another volley, and the monster pounded the bridge again. Huge chunks of concrete crumbled into the water.

He grabbed one of the tanks and threw it at one of the columns of tanks. He pounded the bridge again, and the missing span was large enough for him to get through. He grabbed the bridge and pulled. Another huge chunk came off and he tossed it at the other column of tanks.

The fire from the tanks was more erratic now. The drivers attempted to avoid the flying debris. The gunners had difficulty aiming, as the beast and the tanks were moving in odd directions. The shells began hitting the surrounding buildings more than the creature. After several large explosions, the young beast roared and ran farther down the river.

Some of the tanks were trapped on one side of the river and could not rejoin the column. The monster had destroyed a few tanks but some managed to follow him down river. However, the tanks could not keep up as the beast ran very quickly now. He was no longer interested in playing with the tanks.

At his run, he reached the outskirts of Albany in a short time. General Mann had thrown everything he had at the monster, but was unsuccessful in stopping him. He turned his attention to evacuating Albany. He would worry about saving New York City afterward.

The rampaging monster had won the first battle against the U.S. military. Albany was his for the destroying. The young beast walked through the suburbs destroying houses and businesses as he went. Occasionally, he would pick up a vehicle and throw it as far as he could. He was going to enjoy his victory.

After a few miles of destroying the outskirts of Albany, the young ultra-yeti headed for the tall buildings of down town. He had grown bored of destroying the small houses and businesses. He was ready to tackle something bigger. Then he spotted an enormous green creature headed up the river towards him.

Dr. Maland could see both monsters from his particular vantage point. He had beached his boat at the southernmost tip of a riverside park. However, he quickly realized that while he could see quite a bit, he would be in a world of hurt if the two beasts headed his way. However, the river to the east and an interstate to the west blocked his desired escape route.

While streams of Albany citizens headed south out of the city, very few were on the interstate to the west of Dr. Maland. He did have his sailboat, but the debris in the water would make it a treacherous ride. That was not a safe alternative, so he scrambled up the riverbank. He began searching for a safe place to ride out the pending fight. He noticed a road a little bit to the south of his location and he ran towards it. From his vantage point, it appeared to pass under the interstate.

Iapetus gave out a mighty roar when he spotted the snow-white ultra-yeti. However, the young monster paid little attention as Iapetus arose from the river. The ultra-yeti casually acknowledged the roar and headed toward some buildings in downtown Albany farther away from the river. The young monster began pushing down some of the buildings that he encountered.

Iapetus ran along the interstate and then some of the surface streets and quickly caught up with the ultra-yeti. With a lunge, the monster surprised the young beast and the two went crashing down into a nearby office building.

With Iapetus on top of him, the young creature gave a strong kick that launched Iapetus into the air. The surprised lizard went crashing into another unfortunate building crushing it to the ground. Meanwhile the young and slightly more agile ultra-yeti ran southward toward the Empire State Plaza.

Iapetus shook off the shock of being thrown and ran after the young beast. As he was about to pounce on the young monster again, the ultra-yeti changed direction. Iapetus crashed into a building on the north side of the plaza. The building easily succumbed to the pressure of Iapetus's enormous bulk. It gave way and tumbled upon the prone beast.

Upon seeing Iapetus lying on the ground under a pile of rubble, the ultra-yeti pushed over one of the Agency buildings and began tossing the rubble on top of the green beast. Quickly Iapetus was covered in a pile of concrete and steel -- the remnants of former buildings.

Meanwhile, Dr. Maland was running through the streets of Albany dodging the occasional car and looking for a place to hide. He had passed under the interstate and was now on the eastern edge of the plaza. He observed that the ultra-yeti headed south -- towards the plaza. He hoped he could stay out of the path of destruction. He hung back towards the east side as the two monsters tangled for the first time. He saw Iapetus tackle the young ultra-yeti only to be tossed to the side.

He continued to head northwest along Broadway as the two beasts ran south but when the young yeti turned, he became aware of the great danger he was in. The monsters could take 3 steps and be on him quickly if they suddenly came directly towards him. He was on the same street of the building Iapetus just demolished. He was only a few blocks away from where the giant beast was buried under the rubble.

John was lucky to escape unharmed as the young monster began pushing down the other three Agency buildings. With the creak and groan of the crumbling buildings, Dr. Maland barely heard the helicopter overhead. However, he was keenly aware of it as it landed in the park where he stood in awe of the giant monsters.

Dr. Maland looked over his shoulder and noticed a highly decorated soldier holding his hat, crouched down, and rushing towards him. However, the destructive force of the ultra-yeti still held John mesmerized.

The soldier finally reached Dr. Maland and spoke loudly over the roar of the helicopter. "Dr. John Maland I presume?"

"Why yes," answered John.

"I'm General Mann. Dr. LeFleur is in the helicopter. Would you care to join us?"

"Dr. LeFleur?" stammered John. "I guess so..."

General Mann ushered Dr. Maland into the waiting helicopter. With John safely buckled in next Dr. Claude LeFleur, the machine took off. "Hello Claude," stated John with astonishment.

"Hi John," replied Dr. LeFleur. "I wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances."

"You ain't just whistlin' Dixie there!" replied Dr. Maland.

"General Mann -- here -- tried to prevent the destruction of Albany, but that ultra-yeti was just too tough. We hope that Iapetus can stop him from destroying Manhattan. However, it doesn't look to good right now."

"Yeah..." is all that Dr. Maland could say. He was trying to soak it all in as if he were living in a dream.

The helicopter began circling the city to keep a close watch on the two giant monsters. The ultra-yeti was pushing on the Erastus Corning Tower as the helicopter circled.

Iapetus had regained consciousness and erupted in a spray of rubble. One of the hunks of concrete flew to the place John had been standing just moments before. The flying debris spread in all directions causing more damage to the capital of New York State.

He gave another roar at his young opponent. However, the young monster continued to try to topple the tallest building in Albany. Iapetus ran over to the building and whipped his mighty tail at the distracted monster. The force of the blow was enough to knock the ultra-yeti into the pile of rubble where one of the Agency Towers once stood.

Iapetus flexed his muscles and his spines were fully erect when he gave another mighty roar. His full fury was unleashed as he pounced on the downed monster. While on top, he bit down hard on the ultra-yeti's shoulder. This prevented him from being thrown as the young monster pushed and kicked.

Fear began showing in the young beasts eyes as he continued to push against the great bulk of Iapetus. He felt an enormous pain in his left shoulder as he attempted to push off the monster. With great effort, he rolled onto that shoulder and Iapetus was forced to release his bite. When the bite was released the young ultra-yeti sprang to his feet and ran towards the river.

Dr. LeFleur and Dr. Maland watched the two monsters battle from the relative safety of a circling helicopter. They watched as the Iapetus followed the ultra-yeti into the river and disappeared from view.

"Get closer!" shouted General Mann to the Pilot. "We don't want to lose track of them!"

"Yes sir!" replied the helicopter pilot.

The helicopter pilot got closer to the river, but the two monsters remained hidden from view. However, at the point where the two beasts entered the river, the water sloshed and bubbled. It was obvious that the two beasts fought at that point.

"Iapetus is an aquatic animal," remarked Dr. Maland. "He's definitely got the advantage in the river."

"The two monsters are enormous," replied Dr. LeFleur. "There is little room to maneuver in the river there... But I believe you are right."

"It's a shame," sighed Dr. Maland.

"Yes it is."

Suddenly, the helicopter pilot pulled back on the stick sharply tossing the occupants about. A giant white beast flew out of the water and landed on the rubble that once was one of the four Agency towers. The beast flew quite high and smashed into the rubble that rocked the city for blocks. He laid there bleeding from cuts on his arms and his torso.

Slowly Iapetus emerged from the river. He once again fully erected his back spines and gave his mighty roar. He slowly walked the few blocks to where the ultra-yeti landed.

Now the young soaking wet monster had lost his swagger. He was no longer in a rampage mode. Destruction was no longer a priority and it showed in his manner. Everyone in the helicopter agreed, the young beast was afraid for his life.

Before Iapetus could reach him, the ultra-yeti rolled off the pile of rubble and kept the Erastus Corning Tower between the ancient monster and himself. He looked like he was going to use the tower as a squirrel uses a tree.

Iapetus was still in no hurry to continue the fight. He entered the Empire State Plaza with confidence, but he knew that the young ultra-yeti was a dangerous adversary. With a steady and cautious walk, he approached the tall Albany building.

The soaking wet ultra-yeti looked pathetic hiding behind the tower. The tower could not offer him much protection. An obstacle that with a little effort could be swept aside.

The two beasts circled the tower guarding against the move of the other. At the same time, they were measuring each other up and deciding on their own next move.

The ultra-yeti broke the stalemate. He shook the water from his fur like a dog. This action caused Iapetus to hesitate and the young monster crashed through the tower and tackled his opponent.

The tangle of beast and steel and concrete crashed to the ground with an enormous crash. The claws of the young beast tore at the scales of Iapetus. However, the claws of the young monster could not penetrate the hide of the old beast.

Iapetus's claws on the other hand, tore through the tough flesh of the ultra-yeti. This gambit had backfired for the young beast and he began to struggle to break free of the embrace. He grabbed enormous chunks of concrete to smash into his foe, but the wrestling match continued.

Finally, the young beast got a hold of a long piece of twisted steel that used to be part of the building that he had just toppled. With a swing of desperation, he smacked Iapetus in the head with the weapon, and he was free from the other monster's claws.

The ultra-yeti scrambled to his feet with his weapon still in his hand. In an axe-like swing, he brought it down as Iapetus attempted to get up. It once again smashed upon the monster's head. Iapetus was stunned.

The twisted steel was a formidable weapon and the ultra-yeti was poised to use it again. Over his head it went and back down. This time it missed its mark as Iapetus rolled away before the weapon could fall.

Dazed from the blows to the head Iapetus managed to reach his feet. He was a bit unsteady as the young beast swung the steel girder wildly at him. He avoided several blows as he attempted to shake the cobwebs from his mind.

The weapon wielded by the young beast had turned the tides, and he continued to swing it at the green monster. Iapetus managed to avoid most of the blows, but he felt the danger of his situation.

Eventually, one of the swings caught Iapetus under the arm smacked into his ribs. He emitted a groan, but managed to pin the weapon under his arm. With his other arm, he grabbed it.

There was a brief struggle for the weapon, but using his tail, Iapetus swept the feet right out from under the ultra-yeti. The young monster still held onto the weapon as he fell. Unfortunately, this pinned the young beast to the ground. The old monster slid down the length of the girder and sunk his teeth into the young beast's neck.

The ultra-yeti struggled to break free, but the jaws of the old sea monster were strong. The young monster tried to twist and struggle to break free, but he felt his strength being drained away. Slowly the struggles began to decrease as the life slipped from his body.

Eventually, the girder crashed to the ground and the ultra-yeti died. Iapetus gave a sorrowful cry. There was no flex in his spines. He mourned the passage of the young beast and trudged to the Hudson River. He jumped in and swam off.

The helicopter landed in the park where it had picked up Dr. Maland. The men that were in the helicopter walked over towards the dead ultra-yeti. The beast and the rubble that once was several buildings awed them.

"He was just trying to survive," remarked Dr. LeFleur.

"He was a remarkable animal," replied Dr. Maland.

"Look at the damage!" insisted General Mann. "This monster is responsible for a tremendous amount of destruction all along the Hudson River! It'll take years to rebuild and billions of dollars!"

"He may have been happy in his nest in the woods," replied Dr. LeFleur. "We don't know what his natural habits were. We could have possibly coexisted, but you had to try and kill him."

"He was a threat!" exclaimed General Mann.

"He was a force of nature," replied Dr. Maland.

"He was unleashed by humanity's unwillingness to accept itself as part of nature," continued Dr. LeFleur. "Humans have this silly notion that they were granted dominion over the earth. Nature, sometimes gently and sometimes with huge fury, informs is that we are not in charge."

"Bah!" replied General Mann.

"And still..." started Dr. Maland. "...we don't listen."

The End.

It started off as a normal day for the employees of the Supervania International Airport. Travelers were coming and going as they would at any normal airport. There was the hustle and bustle of air travelers going through security checkpoints, buying tickets, and claiming luggage.

Paul Pennant was one such traveler. He had come a long way to visit the fair city, but his first impression was not going so well. He had waited at the baggage claim for quite a while before realizing that his luggage was not there.

Paul walked over to the luggage claim office to inquire on his luggage. The clerk asked about his claim check. Sadly, Paul could not locate the check. This was going to be a long day for him.

The clerk adeptly typed some things into the computer. Paul's patience was wearing pretty thin when the clerk said, "Ah -- I think I found your luggage."

"At last," replied Paul with a sigh of relief.

"Well..." stumbled the clerk "you see -- your luggage is in Transylvania."

"What!"

"It is a common mistake, it happens all the time. Hehe -- Transylvania sort of sounds like Supervania."

"So what am I suppose to do?" asked Paul trying to suppress his anger.

"Well -- we'll get it here as soon as we can."

"What am I suppose to do in the mean time?" asked Paul with a bit more venom in his voice.

"There is no reason to get angry sir..."

"What! Don't tell me what I have reasons for!" shouted Paul as his face started to turn red.

"Please sir -- take a seat and I'll speak to my manager."

"Let me speak to your manager! I'll give him a piece of my mind!"

"Mr. McGee -- could you come out here please?"

"What seems to be the problem here?" asked the luggage claim manager.

"Apparently, my luggage is on a vacation of its own!" exclaimed Paul as his face was now a deep red.

"Transylvania sir," explained the clerk.

"Step into my office -- er -- Mr. Pennant is it?"

"Yes it is," replied Paul as he stepped around the counter. "What am I supposed to do without luggage?"

"There there Mr. Pennant," the luggage claim manager said soothingly. "Take a seat. My name is McGee, Quincy McGee."

"Charmed I'm sure," replied the still red faced Paul Pennant as he reluctantly sat in Mr. McGee's office chair."

"We're sorry about the luggage mix-up Mr. Pennant," started Mr. McGee. "It has been quite a hectic week for us here, and we'll do all we can to make it right."

"Make it right?" shouted Paul. "Make it right? It is way too late for that? What am I going to do without my things?"

Mr. McGee pulled out a box of clothes. "When you get to the hotel," he replied with a soothing tone. "The concierge there will take care of your personal needs like toothbrush, toothpaste, etc. Everything is going to be all right. If you need some clothes we do have some available here. What's your size?"

Paul's face gradually lost the purple hue and was only red now. "These clothes are a bit tattered and terribly out of fashion. Purple pants?"

"As I stated before, we've had quite a hectic week. We'll make sure the concierge picks up some nice clothes for you as well."

"When will I see my luggage again?" asked Paul through is teeth.

"I cannot answer that question," responded Quincy with a soothing tone. Mr. McGee sat on the corner of his desk and continued. "Transylvania is a long way away. Unfortunately, this type of thing is out of our hands. The originating airline was the one that made the mistake."

"That makes me sad," replied the angry customer sarcastically. "It isn't just clothes and other necessities in my suitcase. I have things that I wanted to have with me on this trip. Things that I need."

"Were really sorry for any trouble this may have caused."

"I bet you are. I'm just another mook who has lost his luggage to you..."

"That's not fair," complained the luggage claim manager. "It's been a rough one for me too... I have a job to do, and this is one of things that I have to do. We're doing our best."

"Mmmm," grumbled Paul.

"We'll do all we can to make your stay an enjoyable one, but my job isn't easy and I have troubles of my own. My loyal companion of 15 years -- do you have any pets?"

"No," replied the still red faced passenger.

"I guess that is a good way to be, because my loyal and faithful friend of those many long years," Mr. McGee stated as tears began forming in his eyes. "Scruffy my dear friend was -- well -- it is too hard to talk about. Let's just say he's gone."

"Mr. McGee," started Paul.

"Yes?" enquired Quincy as he attempted to fight back the tears but was failing.

Paul Pennants red face lost all color and his eyes began to turn a dark, stormy gray. Outside clouds came from nowhere and the once bright sunny day became dark and gloomy. A great feeling of intense sadness filled the air. It was so thick that you could almost feel it with your hands and grab it. It touched everything within several miles of the airport. The sadness grew in each and every person and many began to weep out loud rather than struggle with the darkening feeling.

"That makes me sad, Mr. McGee. You wouldn't like me when I'm sad."

"It's just that I loved that dog," sniffled Mr. McGee. "He was such a good dog I don't know how I'm going to make it without him."

Paul Pennant eyes grew almost black and his entire body just shook with sadness. His face was a gloomy gray color as the tears began to stream down. The western half a Supervania was now covered in a deep dark gloom. An incredible sadness overcame every living creature. Half the city's residents stopped doing anything because of the sadness that each individual felt.

And my wife," continued Quincy McGee still fighting back the tears. "Well -- uh -- she loved that dog more than me, and she began proceedings for divorce today..."

Paul a once largish man began to shrink. Tears were now pouring down his gray face streaming from his black eyes. He hunched down into Mr. McGee's chair and placed his face onto his hands. Some residents of the city sat in the gloom, while others tried to fight it by turning on their lights. They fought against the encroaching darkness. They attempted to play happy songs. A few even grabbed banjos because you cannot sing a sad song on a banjo. They tried to play their happy music for as many people as they could without electric amplification.

With all of this, Quincy McGee continued. "If that wasn't bad enough, you came in here and were totally rude to me and my staff..."

Paul shrank even more as he appeared to become a gray eight year old child. He put himself into the fetal position on the chair as the gloom swirled around the airport.

The Supervanian citizens attempted to stave off the encroaching doom as best they could. However, their fight became all for nothing as a blackout soon hit that half of the city. The America's Original Evil Ninja Cyborg Gas and Electric Company could not keep up with the demand and the city was enveloped in a deep dark gloom with nothing to fight against it. Yes, it was another day in...

Mayorman hangs up his phone and sits behind his desk at the Auditorium of Equitableness. He put his head on the palms of his hands and gave out a heavy sigh. Before he sat there long, his assistant, The Assistant, came in to inform him of his next meeting.

"Sir," he mumbles quietly. "Anonymous Man is here to see you."

"Send him in," replied the mayor gathering himself together.

"Mr. Mayor," started Anonymous Man. "You have to do something!"

"Naturally," replied the mayor. "What do I have to do?"

"Uh, I don't know. Something!"

"What's wrong?"

"Haven't you heard? Half the city is plunged in darkness..."

"Oh that. We're on it. Have no fear."

"This whole episode makes me a bit sad."

"Buck up citizen! We'll set it all right. Right now though, I have a meeting so if you excuse me."

"Uh certainly," responded Anonymous Man with a bit of confusion. "I'll be going then?"

"Yes," replied the mayor. "Assistant, send in my next meeting."

"Next -- meeting -- umm -- yes Mr. Mayor," fumbled the Assistant as he attempted to discern the meaning of the mayor's words.

"Is the Dugman not here?" asked Mayorman.

"The Dugman and Hyper Hank aren't here just yet. I'll see what is keeping them."

Anonymous man stood there dumbfounded. He was attempting to figure out what was going on. The mayor had never dismissed him without fully explaining what was happening.

"Am I no longer needed in Supervania," he mumbled to himself.

"Is there anything else?" asked Mayorman.

"I guess not," sobbed Anonymous Man as he turned and sulked out of the room.

After a short wait, The Dugman and his faithful sidekick Hyper Hank entered the room.

"Sorry we're so late chief! Half the city is blacked out and this is starting to cause major problems."

"Thanks for the news flash," the Mayor said sarcastically.

"I guess that is why we're here isn't it?"

"Sorry, the entire city is caught in an incredible sulk. I'm not immune to its effect."

"What can we do?" asked the superhero.

"First, tell me why we're feeling this way?"

"That is easy, Paul Pennant is in town."

"Of course!" sighed the Mayor with relief.

"The airlines lost his luggage, and he is in Quincy McGee's office."

"That darn fibber McGee!" shouted the mayor. "He gave him the dog treatment didn't he?"

"I'm afraid so," replied the Dugman. "He threw in the wife scenario for extra effect."

"Didn't he get the notice about Pennant?"

"I'm sure he did, but he probably forgot or hasn't read it or something..."

"Okay, I'll get the Clown Patrol over there ASAP, but it'll be a while before this effect will lift."

"What about the power outage? The clowns don't work well in the dark."

"Oh yeah, we'll need to get the power back on. Thanks Dugman, you two have been a big help!"

"Glad we could help!" replied the Dugman as he turned with a flourish and left the room.

"Sir," stated the Assistant over the intercom system. "Anonymous Man is still here..."

"Send him in," replied the Mayor with a bit more energy.

"Is it something I said?" asked Anonymous Man.

"Sorry," replied the mayor. "The city is being affected by an incredible sulk, and I also fell under its spell. Is there more you wanted to say?"

"You have to do something," sobbed the superhero.

"Yes, we do. We need to restore power to the city."

"I was going to say that," Anonymous man complained as he was fighting back the tears. "Do you know what is causing the blackout?"

"Paul Pennant is clouding up the city requiring increased energy usage. Further, there is the usual evil ninja cyborg energy draining thing."

"The Energy Drainer?" enquired the superhero with a little more composure.

"Who else?"

"Where is his nemesis?"

"The Energy Conservator? He's in Bermuda recharging his batteries."

"They never miss a trick do they?"

"No they sure don't."

"So what options do we have?" asked Anonymous Man feeling a little bit better.

"Rest assured Anonymous Man, we're working on it."

"But..."

"Thanks for coming. Assistant?"

"I'm going," Anonymous Man stated hurriedly as he walked quickly out the door. He felt needed again, but he did not want to wear out his welcome.

"You called?" enquired The Assistant.

"It was nothing. Any more appointments?"

"Dirk Justice is here."

"Send him in."

"Greetings Mr. Mayor, I just stopped by to see if I could be of assistance."

"Thanks Dirk, but I don't know if you can...."

"What's the problem?"

"An incredible sulk is covering half the city because of the sadness felt by Paul Pennant. We've got the Clown Patrol going over to cheer him up, but there is the problem with the Energy Drainer... We can't cheer Paul up in the dark, and we cannot ease the power use without cheering him up. We need to stop that evil ninja cyborg the Energy Drainer to ease the power problem. If we could cheer up Paul we wouldn't have the power drain and the Energy Drainer wouldn't be a problem. But we can't do that in the dark..."

We're caught in quite a catch trap. Those ninja cyborgs don't miss a trick!

I'll say! What are we going to do about the Energy Drainer?"

"Let's see, the Energy Conservator is in Bermuda -- well -- have you tried the Clappinator?"

"Do you think he would do it?"

"He is officially retired, but he may help us out."

"Assistant," the mayor said on his intercom. "Get me the Clappinator on the phone," requested the mayor as hope returned to his face.

The Assistant, from his desk, began to look up the contact information for the Clappinator. After typing a few words into his computer, the information appeared on his screen and he dialed the number. "The Clappinator is on line one sir," The Assistant stated over the intercom system.

"Thanks!" responded the mayor as he picked up his phone. "Hello Herbert! How's tricks?"

"The mayor huh? I remember when you were just a punk kid..."

"I learned a lot from you Herb."

"Bah! What do you want?"

"Herb, your city needs you."

"You toss me aside for some Energy Conservator guy, and now you're crawling back huh?"

"We allowed you to pursue other avenues..."

"Punk kid!"

"Herb, let's let bygones be bygones. I -- er -- the citizenry of Supervania need your help. Are you going to help, or do we find someone else?"

"I would love to help," the Clappinator said sarcastically.

"But...?" the mayor urged.

"But, I'm under house arrest."

"House arrest? Under whose authority?"

"The Fashion Police -- naturally."

"What did you do?"

"Some trumped up call. Something about a white belt and white shoes after Labor Day."

"What?"

"It's them youngsters and their fashion rules. My other suit was at the dry cleaners. I didn't think there would be any problem."

"So, why didn't you show them your autumn and winter superhero suit?"

"I wasn't able to retrieve it. They caught me before I got there."

"Washer Woman and Martinizing Man have free delivery."

"AOENC Dry Cleaning is not too far from here. They are convenient, so I use them."

"Free delivery and pick-up..."

"I don't need some punk kid lecturing me on where to take my laundry."

"America's Original Evil Ninja Cyborg Incorporated Dry Cleaners -- are -- evil ninja cyborgs..."

"What's your point?"

"Nevermind. If we take care of your problem with the Fashion Police, will you help the city?"

"If it isn't too late in the day, I don't stay up late like you young kids!"

"We'll see what we can do to free you up."

"Furthermore, It'll cost you. I'm not made of money you know."

"We're on it."

"Jargon jargon jargon!"

"I'll talk to you later Herb."

"Whatever!"

The mayor hung up his phone, and put his face on his hands. It was a great strain to fight off the effect Paul Pennant was having over him. He thought to himself that soon the entire city would be engulfed in darkness, but Dirk Justice interrupted his thoughts.

"Sir, will the Clappinator help the city?"

"If we can get his dry cleaning to him..."

"The Sensational Seven are here to see you sir," interupted The Assistant.

"Hey!" exclaimed the mayor as a big grin come to his face. "They might be able to help us out here. Send them in!"

The outer door opened and the room immediately brightened up. The team of these superheroes was enough to drive the darkness away from the mayor's office.

"Come in! Come in!" welcomed the mayor. "What can we do for you?"

"Thir," started the leader of the group. "It ith about our name."

"Your name?"

"We are the Thenthational Theven!"

"Yes?"

"You don't underthtand. We are the Thenthational Theven, but you have thomething elthe in your recordth."

"Let me check. No, right here it says Sensational Seven..."

"Thee, that ith not right. We are the Thenthational Theven, not what you jutht thaid."

"You want to be listed as the 'Thenthational Theven' and not the Sensational Seven?"

"That'th right!"

"Easy enough to change..." replied the mayor with a fake smile. "They -- er -- say, while I have you here, you could do the city a great favor."

"Name it thir! We will thertainly help if we can."

"Herb -- The Clappinator, one of Supervania's former superheroes -- now retired -- is needed to help us with an evil ninja cyborg problem we are experiencing."

"The power outage?"

"Yeth -- um -- yes," fumbled the mayor. "However, he is under house arrest by the Fashion Police. Could you go over there and do your thing for him? You know, get him out of trouble with the -- Fashion Police???"

"Abtholutely! We'd adore giving him the treatment!"

"Where did Dirk go?" wondered the mayor to himself. "Thenthational Theven, your help in this matter would help make life a lot better for many of the citizens of...

At the superhero assisted living condominiums, Clappinator sat in his bathrobe reading his mail. After finishing his AARP newsletter, he looked up and noticed a rainbow and a flash of sparkles outside his window. He got up to investigate when there was a knock on his door. He tightened his robe around his waist and shuffled over to the door.

"Who is it?" he asked through the door.

"We're here to help!" responded a voice.

"I didn't ask what you wanted," complained the aging superhero. "I asked who you were."

"The mayor thent uth," the voice replied.

"That still doesn't answer my question..."

"How can we make our entrance if he doesn't open the door?" whispered one of the superheroes to the group leader.

"I don't know," the leader responded.

"Tell him we're Avon™" whispered another.

"Avon? I'd rather die."

"Tell him something..."

"Uhhh - Candy-gram," said the leader.

"Candy-gram?" replied the Clappinator. "Well then, come on in!"

The retired superhero swung open his door and the gust from the door slightly separated his robe revealing his ragged boxer shorts. With another rainbow and a flash of sparkles and several squelched sounds of disgust, the Thenthational Theven arrived at the assisted living condo of the Clappinator.

"We are the Thenthational Theven!" started the group's leader after the nausea left. "Time for the Theven Roll Call! On hair..."

"I am The Caped Coiffeur!" shouted the superhero with a flourish from her cape.

"On etiquette..."

"I am Mrs. Manners," stated the superhero politely. "It is nice to meet you."

"On style..."

"I am the Chic Magnet!" declared the superhero.

"On fashion..."

"I'm Fashionista," the superhero proudly declared. "We'll talk about your clothes."

"On design..."

"It is I," began the superhero. "The Fabulous Feng Shui and my trusty sidekick..."

"Slip Cover Girl," finished the sidekick.

"I of course am Thuper Model!" finished the group's leader.

"Where is my candy-gram?" asked the Clappinator.

"Never you mind about that," replied Super Model. "The mayor athked uth to help you out with your trouble. Thenthational Theven -- to work!"

The seven superheroes spread out to begin the grand tasks of fixing up the Clappinator's assisted living condominium. As the group investigated the condo the Clappinator heard many groans of disgust coming from the superheroes. He was still standing at the front door looking for his candy-gram.

After a few minutes of unsuccessful searching for his candy-gram, the Clappinator closed his front door. Super Model approached the bewildered elderly superhero shaking his head.

"We have a lot of work to do," complained the leader of the seven superheroes. "Thith plathe ith a methth. An awful methth."

"Meth?" inquired the Clappinator.

"You know -- thloppy -- old fathioned -- not thylith -- you know -- a methth."

"I got nothing," said the bewildered superhero.

"Don't worry," replied Super Model. "We'll take care of everything."

Super Model led the Clappinator into the living room to where The Fabulous Feng Shui was standing with her hands on her hips and a look of utter disgust on her face.

"Where on Earth did you get this gaudy couch?" she asked.

"It was a gift from former President..."

"Well it has to go," interrupted Feng Shui. "It is blocking the flow of Chi and the color is all wrong for your skin tones."

A flash comes from Slip Color Girls eyes and the couch disappears into a cloud of cinnamon-apple scented potpourri.

"The coffee table too," ordered Feng Shui.

"But that was hand made by..."

"Face it," interrupted Feng Shui again. "It all has to go."

Suddenly, all of the Clappinator's furnishings vanished and the room smelled like Mom's apple pie. The retired superhero lost all ability to speak as all of his treasures vanished. He just stood there with his mouth open.

"Slip Cover Girl," ordered the Fabulous Feng Shui. "To the bedroom!"

In the empty room the Clappinator stood there dumbfounded with his mouth agape. Mrs. Manners entered the room and said, "Standing there with your mouth open is quite rude."

The retired superhero immediately closed his mouth. He tried to respond, but words could not form in his brain. Meanwhile, the paintings from his walls were flying from the places they have hung for several years. They are attracted in a swirl around the Chic Magnet.

"I'm Sorry Mr. Clappinator," the superhero bemoaned. "But, this art has to go. It is so 2238. I mean really!"

"Don't move!" shouted the Caped Coiffeur.

The retired superhero was in too much shock to move. His once full living room was now completely empty. All the mementoes he had obtained throughout the years were now gone.

He felt a tingling in his scalp. It began to bring him out of his shock. However, once he began to move, the tingle turned to a burn. He vaguely remembers someone telling him to not move, but he had no recollection of who or why.

"It is because I haven't told you why," stated the Caped Coiffeur.

"What?" asked the Clappinator to himself.

"I haven't told you why you shouldn't move," replied the hair stylist.

"Are you in my mind?" asked the old superhero.

"If I wasn't you would move your mouth, but I told you to not move."

"That's a good trick," he thought.

"I am a superhero."

"Oh right..."

"That was quite unthinking of you," interrupted Mrs. Manners. "Insulting her in your thoughts like that!"

"You too?" thought the Clappinator.

"We are all superheroes Herbert L. Clappinator. May I call you Herb?"

"Herb? Yes. I'm Herb."

Herb Clappinator's head began to spin again. The tingle and burn was now alternating quite frequently.

Suddenly, it stopped. Herb was stunned by its sudden absence. The Caped Coiffeur produced a mirror and Herb looked at his reflection. After seeing himself, everything went black and he fell to the floor in a heap.

"Excellent!" exclaimed the hair stylist. "He was so happy with his new style that he fainted. Nothing could be more gratifying than that!"

"It lookth fabulouth! Well done Coiffeur!" added Super Model.

The Clappinator was out for quite a long time. He awoke to find himself on three slightly cushioned pink wooden boxes. He looked around and there were several of these modular wooden boxes of various colors scattered around his living room. In the center of this room was a pile of his clothes. Before he could say a word, the clothes were gone. This time the scent was lemon.

The retired superhero looked around his once cluttered comfortable room. It was now sleek and modern. There were padded boxes that could be arranged in any way. His 56 inch plasma TV was gone to be replaced with a 72 inch 3-D hologram projector.

"That's nice," he mumbled to himself.

"I knew you'd like it," replied the Fabulous Feng Shui.

"That's not what I meant, I..."

"Our job is done!" interrupted Feng Shui. "The Fabulous Feng Shui and Slip Cover Girl away!"

"You were very gracious," added Mrs. Manners. "I shall be going as well. Your hair is quite lovely. Have a good day."

"My hair!" Herb recalled.

"You're welcome," replied the Caped Coiffeur as she also left.

"My goodness look at those paintings on my wall," sighed the aged superhero.

"They are great! I agree," responded the Chic Magnet. "You have excellent taste."

"But..."

"I will take my leave of you."

"Now we are three," stated Super Model. "It ith you -- me..."

"And Fashionista makes three!" chuckled the fashion expert.

"We need to get you out of here and get you thome new clotheth," Super Model stated frankly.

"I'm under houth -- I mean -- house arrest. I cannot leave. I only have the clothes on my back."

"That robe must go!" stated Fashionista firmly. "I will call the fashion police, but first, you must answer your door!"

As she finished her sentence, a knock came to the door. This startled the Clappinator, but he managed to hobble over to answer the door.

"Errand Boy!" exclaimed the retired superhero.

"Hello Mr. Clappinator Sir. I have picked up your dry cleaning for you. That will be $12.34 including tax."

"Here's $12.50," responded the Clappinator.

"Thanks! Nice hair," Errand Boy said as he was trying to stifle his laugh.

"You can keep the change," Herb replied not noticing the chuckle.

Errand Boy took the money from Herb. He stood there blinking for a couple of seconds doing the math in his head but then shrugged his shoulders and left. Before Errand Boy reached his bicycle, Herb had his super suit on. Fashionista was on the phone freeing the Clappinator from his house arrest.

"Energy wasters!" Herb shouted with authority. "You will be clapped off by the mighty Clappinator! To action!"

The Clappinator restored power to Supervania as the evil ninja cyborg Energy Drainer's plans were thwarted. Normalcy was returned to...

Brian O'Reilly was sitting in his wheelchair in his cell on death row. The state would execute him in an hour from now, and he had just finished his last meal. He was sitting quietly when the guard came followed by a priest.

"Brian O'Reilly, this is Father Dwayne McGuinness. He is here to prepare you for your execution."

"Hello Father"

"Greetings my son. That will be all guard. Now Brian is there anything that you want to tell me?"

"Father, I deserve the sentence I am about to receive. I have not been a good person, and I have lived far longer than I should have."

"Tell me about it my son."

I was the oldest of six kids. We were very poor. So, when I was 11 years old, I began my life of crime. It was more important to me to get food to eat than to go to school. I would spend my class time figuring out how to put food on our table, and the teachers let me.

I had been stealing and fighting regularly. While I wasn't making a great deal of money, I was putting food in our mouths. I had a few scrapes, but there wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

One day, I stole from an Asian grocery, and a gang of 10 guys jumped me. They said that this grocery was protected by Hung Lo. They told me that I would have to pay for my theft.

I didn't know Hung Lo from nothing. I was just a kid. They tried all of their chop socki on me, but they didn't know how to fight. I was an everything-goes street fighter. I didn't know any rules. So, I held my own until the cops came and we scrammed.

As has it, they had a spy follow me home. The next day, a note comes addressed to my mom from Hung Lo. He wanted to see me. Ma was getting upset with my behavior and she made me go see him. I thought for sure I was done for.

I was shaking like a leaf when Ma and me went to see him. I was more afraid of the wrath of Ma than some Asian dude. Ma drug me into this guy's office and tossed me into a seat.

"What's this all about?" she asked.

"I would like to give your son a job," he replied.

I was stunned. He was going to make me pay for what I had stole by making me work for it. Ma agreed to the deal, and I began working for Mr. Lo at nights and on weekends.

At first, it was all legit. I hung flyers. I swept floors. I delivered messages. I did the usual young kid jobs. I got paid in cash, and I put some food on the table.

I would occasionally have scrapes with his young muscle. They were all about testing me. The kids my age were all a head shorter than me. I would clean their clocks easy. The kids my size were a few years older, and a little more difficult, but I still held my ground.

After a year or so of these odd jobs, Mr. Lo started to give me free Hopkido lessons. It was some martial arts training, and I really dug it. It started out all joint locks and pressure points. Eventually, we learned about how to use a person's own weight and energy against them.

I took to it quite naturally. I would still get tested now and again, but I was quite a bit more fluid. Someone would rush me and before they knew what was happening they were flying into the ground.

I began walking with a bit of a swagger. I started looking for fights. Whenever I was challenged, it took a couple of seconds and it was over. They would be lying on the ground with this or that bone broken. I was a tough guy now.

Eventually, Mr. Lo called me into his office with a task. Someone was behind in their payments on something or other. I was like 14 or 15. I would walk into some store and ask for the payment. The guy would come back with this or that excuse, and I would insist.

Of course, the storeowner would laugh at me and end up bleeding. They all paid. I got a big raise after a couple of these jobs. Later, all I would have to do was walk in. "The Kid is here for the money," I would proclaim.

I trained and worked. I even managed to graduate from high school. Well, I barely graduated. I had to make a big decision. What was I going to do with my life. I told Mr. Lo that I was moving on.

I joined the military. I am not allowed to tell you what I did, but let us say that I was good at my job. Lots of people felt the sting of 'The Kid'. I really enjoyed the work, but I hated the politics of it all. I would do a job according to plan, and some yahoo somewhere would complain about this or that aspect.

When my tour was up, I left. I was a first class killing machine without a job. I was a fry cook for a while. I stocked the shelves at this and that store. I never could make a job stick. They were all boring. So, after a while, I looked up Hung Lo again.

He didn't have a job for anyone with my talents, but he said he would check around. He sent me to a guy named K.W. Kitterman. Mr. Kitterman could put my skills to work.

I did the same work that I did in the military, but without the politics. It was the perfect job for me. I began taking Ninjitsu lessons because they helped me do my job. 'The Kid' soon became a Ninja.

I disappeared into the world of the Ninja. I only appeared to inflict death. The only ones to see me were soon no longer capable of reporting what they saw. I was a ghost. I was a shadow in the night.

I had many missions and was making a great deal of money fulfilling those missions. However, that was all to end when Mr. Kitterman contracted me to kill Mr. Long Wang. He is why I am here.

Mr. Wang was a very powerful man. In fact, he was acquainted with Hung Lo. If I wanted to do my job without worrying about politics, I didn't question why I was to do this job. It wasn't my place to ask why he was to be killed. It was just a job.

I easily infiltrated Mr. Wang's estate, and I waited for him in his bedroom. I made a minor mistake, and I alerted him to my presence. Those cursed squeaky floors!

Mr. Wang was a very skilled fighter. He had a great deal of training. He took my sword away from me quite easily. It was going to be unarmed combat for a while. I would strike and he would block. He would strike, I would counter, and he would block. It was a back and forth fight for quite a while.

He knew several styles of Kung Fu. He was obviously an accomplished teacher of the martial arts. He knew a vast array of techniques. He knew some techniques that I thought were only legends. Stories they tell others so they fear you and you don't have to fight. He knew of those kinds of techniques.

We had been going back and forth for a while, and he begins telling me the technique he is using. He is yelling "Flying Monkey Fist" and "Striking Snake" and the like. To me it is all gibberish. I just take his move and counter it like I was trained in Hopkido.

I was getting tired. I had never fought anyone for so long before. I decided I was going to end it by going for my sword. We exchange attacks, and in doing so, I work towards my sword. A few more moves, and I will have it. Again, he is yelling "Hammering Jaguar Claw" and "Crane Fish Strike"!

At this point in the fight, I make my first mistake. I take my eyes off him and look at my sword. He yells "Five Point Palm Exploding Heart!" and lands it on my chest. I manage to grab the sword and open him up. He stops and laughs.

I thought how strange it was that a man would get nearly cut in two and laugh. So I asked him what was so funny.

He said, "We are both dead. I landed my last ditch technique. After you take five steps, your heart will explode."

I took a step to lop off his head and finish the job, and I took one step back, but I haven't taken one since. The police found me sitting there with the bloody sword in my hand. I was just sitting on the floor. They asked me to get up, but I said that I couldn't. They dragged me out, and I have been in this wheelchair ever since.

"Father, I don't know if the good Lord will forgive what I have done..."

"My son, if you truly repent your sins, the good Lord will forgive you."

"Thanks Father. I am truly sorry for the pain that I have inflicted."

"It is time to go now."

The guard came and opened the cell. The priest arose and began praying for Brian's soul. The guard worked his way behind the wheelchair and began to push it out of the cell. Brian waved to have him stop, and he got up. He took three steps and fell over dead. The Five Point Palm Exploding Heart technique finally took Brian O'Reilly after a lengthy trial and several years on death row.

I had dined at Claudius Flavius Agrippa's estate. It was about two thousand paces from my home and I went on foot. It was a very ample banquet and I had left just before dusk as I wished to get home before it got too dark.

I had walked down the road for a short while when a man came from behind some brush along the road. He asked for all of my valuables. I could not help but laugh. This did not go over well with him and he jumped at me. I casually stepped aside, and I see a couple of arrows whisk by me. This bandit was not alone.

The first bandit had gained his footing and rushed towards me once again. I ducked behind the brush from which he emerged. I could not see his compatriots, so I had to be careful. I removed my cloak to protect myself from any small weapon the first bandit may have been carrying. I saw his knife glint in the fading light.

As he rushed at me, I grabbed his arm and launched him in the air with a little hitch in my hip. He hit the ground hard, but only enough to make him angrier. Once again, he charged at me, and I held my cloak to one side. I jumped out of the way in time and draped my cloak over him. I did not let go of cloak as it closed around my assailant. With my grasp of the cloak, I dropped to the ground and put my foot into the small of his back; thus, launching him above the cover of the brush.

In the failing light, his accomplices mistook him for me and launched a salvo of arrows. However, one of the archers gave himself away in this attack. The two arrows shot from this bandit's accomplices struck him. He started bleeding profusely, so I let him keep my cloak. He was still alive, but he would not be for long.

I did not know the position of one of the archers, so I carefully made my way to the archer's position that I had spotted. I saw that he had another arrow ready for flight. I jumped over the bush he was using for cover and knocked his bow. The arrow flew across the road. The second archer yelled in surprise as the arrow just missed him.

I grabbed the first archer from behind and used my greatest weapon on the second. I glared at him with the first archer held tightly in my grasp. Without breaking my stare, I snapped the neck of the first archer with my bare hands. My weapon was successful, and the second archer dropped his weapon and ran off.

I gathered up the two dead men and piled them on the brush beside the road. I checked for any identifying items, and gathered their valuables in a bit of cloth. I headed back towards home leaving the corpses for the scavengers.

After a bit of walking, I overhear some men talking. I cannot quite make it out, but it sounded like an exciting story about a 7-foot man killing Antonius with his bare hands. As I approach, I can see one of the men is enraged by the tale being told. He shouts, "He killed my brother, so he must die!"

I was in a bit of a spot because they were between my home and me. I was not looking for any more trouble, but the brother had spotted me. He came rushing towards me with knife in his hand. As he got closer, he began to shout wildly. Fear was not going to override his anger. However, for my benefit his anger impaired his judgment. When he was close enough, I side stepped him and grabbed his arm. Using his own hand with his own knife, I plunged the blade between his ribs. He fell in a heap. He attempted to get up, but his strength had left him.

Nevertheless, there were three remaining men standing besides a small cart filled with goods. The second archer was standing with his eyes wide with fear.

"That's him! That's him!" he nervously shouted.

"He's not seven feet tall," the second man said with a confused look on his face.

The third man I assumed was the ringleader. He ordered the two men to spread out and attack me on each side, but the two men hesitated. The ringleaders eyes flared and he shouted, "Move it!"

With a start, the two men tried to flank me. I leaned against a close by tree to watch my back. Slowly the three men closed in upon me. The two men on my left and right drew their knives.

I assumed that the ringleader was a deserter from the army who was now making his living as a bandit. He was going to be difficult to take down as he was wearing Roman armor and I just had my knife.

The two conspirators were not wearing any protection against sharp implements, but their cloaks did make them difficult to see. This was all more the true with the greatly fading light.

Closer and closer, the three men became. Eventually, the two men on my flanks lunged towards me. In an effort to dodge their attacks, I spun and kicked the ringleader in the face. Once again, the weapon of fear worked well on the second archer. With my action, he hesitated. This gave me enough time to grab the other bandit by the arm and twist it. The pain pushed him towards the ground and he dropped his knife.

By this time, the ringleader had shaken off his surprise and managed to draw a short sword. He made a clumsy attempt to stab me. It was quite apparent that despite his armor, he was not a well-trained soldier.

With his comrade still somewhat under my control, I pushed him in the way of this awkward stab. Unfortunately for this poor bandit, this thrust went directly into his throat and severed part of his neck. With a little shout, I popped his head right off.

The second archer fainted dead away upon the sight of his decapitated friend. With the head freed of encumbrance of a body, I swung it by the hair and smacked the ringleader with it. With an awful thwack, the head crashed into the helmet of the ringleader.

While the damage was clearly minimal, the scene left him a bit stunned as well. With this momentary hesitation, I thrust my knife in his eye. It is the most vulnerable spot on a man in armor. I quickly removed my knife and a scream of pain came out of his mouth as he clutched his eye.

If the wound is deep enough, it will eventually be fatal. However, it can take a bit of time. With a fury of pain and the loss of vision, the ringleader began swinging his short sword wildly. With one of his swings, he cut a large chunk out of the second archer's leg. Blood began to pour out of this wound but the lead bandit continued to swing his sword with shouts of anger. The new wound would be certainly fatal, but it did not rouse the second archer.

The head bandit was yelling and swearing. He waved his sword about wildly, but I was not going to get anywhere close to him. It was only a matter of time before the loss of blood would do its work. After a short time, the ringleader fell to the ground with a thud. He writhed with pain and gradually sank into unconsciousness.

It was dark now, but I could not leave these men in the middle of the road. However, I did not wish to take any chances that these men were still able to lash out at me. Thus, I made my thanks to my patron Neptune. My ritual took a few minutes as I burnt some blood of my fallen foes in thanks. I also included the decapitated head in my ritual of thanks.

I made certain that the four men were dead as I piled the bandits in a heap beside the road. Like their other fallen comrades, I obtained their valuables and put them all in their own wagon. From the looks of the booty these men had collected in their wagon, they were quite successful highwaymen.

Once I arrived home, I once again made sacrifices to Neptune. My tunic was soaked with the blood of these men. I took the opportunity to visit the bath before turning in for the night.

"That is quite a story," the magistrate said with a little disbelief.

"Your belief is of little concern to me," replied Marius Batiatus Pervalidus with a wave of his hand. "By Neptune, it is the truth, and the men's wounds will confirm my story."

"You killed six men by yourself?"

"No. I killed three men. The men themselves are responsible for the deaths of the other three. I am merely responsible for the head bandit, one of the archers, and the archer's brother."

"You decapitated one man!"

"No, the bandit leader did that with a wild swing. His swing cut the neck of the man and I just finished removing it from its body."

"You used his head as a weapon."

"I only did so to protect myself from the head bandit."

"Someone could make quite a drama out of the events last night."

"Aye, it would make quite a tragic tale of this former Roman soldier turned bandit.

"Do you know who this head bandit is -- er -- was?" asked the magistrate.

"I do not."

"I will tell you. He was Julius Ladro Denunciato. He is in fact a deserter and there is a great reward for his capture. The Republic frowns greatly upon soldiers that leave the ranks."

"It is my pleasure to serve the Republic. That is its own reward."

"That is admirable and well stated. Marius Batiatus Pervalidus... Batiatus? Batiatus? Where have I heard that name?"

"Perhaps you have heard of Lentulus Batiatus. He ran a gladiatorial school in Capua long ago."

"Gladiator?" enquired the magistrate. "You are a gladiator? That explains a few things."

"I have paid for my freedom," Pervalidus replied curtly.

"Were ... you were a gladiator."

"I was."

"In my younger days, I used to regularly attend the gladiatorial exhibitions. I remember a mountain of a man who went by the name of Validus Maximus. Strong and large that described him quite well. He fought with the trident and net. He was absolutely unbelievable!"

"I am pleased that you enjoyed the contests."

"He used the trident like no one I had ever seen. It was part staff and part spear. Those with gladii were no match for him. He could knock those short swords away from the other gladiator with one swipe."

"It is important to know how to use your weapon."

"You could tell that he was so much better than everyone else. He would just toy with the other gladiators for the sake of the crowd."

"The gladiatorial games were for the crowds and the gods. It is not wise to upset the immortals."

"One time he took on three gladiators. I think the patron of those particular games wanted to see Validus lose."

"It is a danger of the profession."

"Anyway, Validus fought a very defensive fight at first. He made one of his opponents swing wildly and hit one of the other gladiators -- like -- in your tale ... of ... last night..."

"It is a useful tactic."

"Hey! Validus -- Pervalidus..."

"Yes, I was a gladiator that fought as Validus, and later Validus Maximus."

"Now I believe that the guy thought you were seven feet tall. I thought you were too -- in my youth."

"Stature can be deceiving."

"Wow! Validus Maximus. Our legion could use a man like you."

"While that may be true, I have paid my service to the Roman Republic."

"Have you heard the former proconsul Gaius Julius Caesar has crossed the Rubicon? He marching his troops toward Brundisium to meet with Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus. It means civil war. You could provide a great service to the Republic."

"I am quite happy serving the Republic in the manner that I did in ridding it of this group of bandits. I owe it no other allegiance."

"I am indebted to Pompey the Great. I must side with him."

"That is no concern of mine."

"Let me finish," replied the magistrate. "If Pompey is defeated I could lose everything. I could lose my estate, my position, perhaps even my life."

"That is quite a sad tale."

"That is just the half of it. I am in line to become Proconsul myself one day. If the Republic falls, all that I have worked for will be gone. I am running for Praetor!"

"My tears are falling like rain..."

"However, if you side with us -- the Republic -- and help us, I can make it worth your while."

"I doubt that even you have that much to offer me."

"Then do it for the Republic and your fellow Romans."

"While I must admit, you are telling quite a sad tale. With the loss of your estate and the loss of the Roman Republic, it would certainly make for a great tragic play. However, I have a much greater tale of loss than you could ever know."

"Caesar is a great general. We could use all the able-bodied men we could get. Pompey is also a great general, but his troops are green. There will be quite a battle. It would be quite a tragedy if the Republic falls."

"I will make a bargain with you. If I tell you my tale of loss, and if it is not more tragic than your own, I will join you."

"Very well, tell me your tale, and then I will fill in the rest of my tale of misery. I am confident in my tale of woe."

Roman Slave - Gladiator - Freeman - Hero

Becoming a Slave

By Douglas E Gogerty

I was young. I had not become of age yet. I had probably experienced 12 summers when King Mithridates invaded Bithynia where my family called home. My father, hoping that our homeland would be free, died in battle against the invading King. That left my mother to take care of my older brother, my younger sister and I.

I had a maternal uncle living in Cyzicus. Thus, to seek refuge, my mother and I headed for that Bithynian city. This was an unfortunate move for us as before we arrived, Mithridates laid siege to the city. This trapped my family between the army of Mithridates and the advancing army of the Roman Consul Lucius Licinius Lucullus Ponticus.

Instead of engaging in battle, Lucullus prevented the delivery of supplies by land. While it did eventually lead to Mithridates breaking his siege, it was not going to allow us to make our way into the city.

My family and I followed our mother to an encampment by the river Granicus. We spent a few days there fishing and determining our next move. Fate was once again frowning upon us as Mithridates in his attempt to escape Lucullus, found his way to this very river.

The two generals staged a great battle along the river, and my family had nowhere to go. I saw my mother and sister die beneath the hooves of a Roman equestrian soldier. I saw my brother speared by one of King Mithridates soldiers. I just sat at watched the carnage of the two great armies fighting.

There were men fighting valiantly on both sides. The carnage was incomprehensible to such a young person. The insides of a man were no longer a stranger to me. The blood flowed into the river like its own small stream. I sat and could not turn away. Soldier after soldier fell throughout the battle.

Lucullus was victorious on that day, but King Mithridates escaped by boat along the river. Lucullus fresh from victory gathered up the spoils of war, which included me. I was marched away from the land that I called home.

We marched for weeks towards Rome. Everything I had ever known was lost. There was no way that I could ever find my way back to my home. I spoke not a word of Latin, but that mattered little to the Romans.

We were marched right past the city of Rome and taken to the large slave-trading center in Naples. The Romans would sell the former soldiers and citizens of Bithynia alike at the next auction. We were suddenly simply a commodity.

It was like a bad dream in which I could not awaken. Everything was as if I was fresh from the womb. The sights, sounds, and smells were strange to me.

The slave trading masters stripped us all down and sent us into the baths. Afterward, they closely inspected the newly acquired merchandise. I had not come of age, and I drew quite a bit of excited looks. I was young, strong, and in excellent health. I had to endure many inspections by several individuals.

I scarcely remember the interview with the officials of the slave auction. They were excited. I heard a translator mention something about a high price. I have vague recollections of remarks of my looks and my youthful appearance. He slapped some name on me, and held me out towards the end of the selling day.

A murmur fell over the crowd as I walked out onto the platform and inspected by the potential buyers. I stared down at my chalked feet and shuffled in my naked nervousness. Several patrons examined me quite closely for a few minutes and the bidding began.

The bidding process took a long time as I had garnered much interest. I had still not recovered from the general daze that I was in since the death of my family and the march away from my home. A Campanian man whose name I have long forgotten purchased me for the quite high price of 125,000 sesterces. I was to be his personal house servant. I heard of others going for as low as 2 sesterces, so I briefly wondered what was special about me.

When we arrived at my new master's house in Campania, his wife looked at me with an odd look of disgust and desire. Perhaps she liked how I looked and perhaps she was disgusted at the high price her husband had paid. I am not certain.

My master and his wife fought often over me. One hundred twenty-five thousand sesterces was a lot of money to pay for an ordinary houseboy. I think my naiveté prevented me from seeing the real purpose. It became quite clear a few weeks after arriving.

The mistress of the house took a group of servants to tend to an elderly relative. He had spoken to the remaining servants and explained that he did not wish to be disturbed. No one was to come to him while he was in the peristylium or any adjoining rooms in the rear of the house. He also asked me to serve him his meal in the exhedra rather than have his meal in the traditional triclinium.

I did not find this request unusual, but some of the other servants snickered at the order. I obtained the food from one of the other servants in the cucina and took it into my master in the nearby exhedra. The master had a strange smile on his face and he regularly chuckled as he ate his meal.

When he was finished, he gave me a carafe of very cheap wine. He ordered me to drink it, but it burned the back of my throat. I could only take a few sips, but my master insisted I continue to drink.

He briefly left the room to check on the other servants. While he was out, I dumped a good portion of the awful, cheap wine in one of the urns that decorated the open peristylium.

Upon his return, he checked my progress on the wine and gave a wry smile. He asked me to recline in one of his couches. I was still confused upon the events that were taking place. "Why is my master asking me to recline on the furniture? This is certainly new," I thought to myself.

I did as he requested, and sat on the long couch. He began stroking my hair and mumbling something in Latin. While I had picked up a few words by this point, I did not have any idea what he was saying. He looked into my eyes and smiled a very disturbing smile. He arose and removed his tunic. Something was exiting him.

He told me to drink more of the wine. I took another bitter sip, and spilled a generous portion down my tunic. With the smile still upon his face and his excitement growing, he ordered me to lie face down across the dining table.

I tried to understand what was happening, but I could not put the pieces together. Thus, I refused to cooperate. He grabbed me firmly by the arm to force his will. I was strong and I easily slipped out of his grasp. I let out a small chuckle.

His anger grew greatly as he yelled something. I can only assume it was a curse of some kind. He came at me again, but with the flask of cheap wine still in my hand, I smashed him over the head with it.

He fell over like a goatskin filled with sand. Blood poured from his ear. A great deal of blood spilled onto the floor beneath his head. I knew he was dead or at least soon would be.

I ran through the peristylium as fast as I could and slipped out of the posticum. With his strict order to be alone, I was sure no one had seen what I had done. I ran through the streets of Campania and made my way to the hills outside of town.

I had not reached manhood, and I had killed my first man. I was alone, and I would never find my way to my home. I just murdered the only person who would have made sure I had what I needed to survive. I was on my own.

Roman Slave - Gladiator - Freeman - Hero

The Slave Revolt

By Douglas E Gogerty

"You killed your master?" inquired the magistrate. "That crime is punishable by death. I could take you in and have you crucified or thrown off the Capitoline hill."

"Neither you nor I know if the man died. I did not wait to find out if he survived."

"The disobedience of a slave is enough to have you executed. Perhaps they would burn you at the stake..."

"I have received a full pardon from Marcus Licinius Crassus, but that is part of my story I have yet to tell."

"I have heard enough. It is sad, that is true. However, because your master had a soft head and a hard wine carafe does not make it terribly sad story."

"It is your bias that does not equate the loss of my family and home to your potential loss of family, home, and honor."

"Watch your tongue freedman! You have a lavish homestead. You raise horses. You even have a large number of slaves of your own. You have put this great tragedy behind you and the Fates have been kind."

"For many years the Fates were unkind to me. It was not until Neptune smiled upon me that brought me to this place."

"So, that is why you raise horses..."

"It is to give thanks to Neptune -- creator of horses."

"Your horses could be used for the upcoming conflict as well."

"The horses were promised to Crassus..."

"Crassus died four years ago at the battle of Carrhae!"

"Thus, they will only be given to his successor which will be determined by this conflict."

"I could just take them," threatened the magistrate.

"One more body on this pile of four would not be noticed..."

"Is that a threat?"

"I am just pointing out facts; like you are a young man, you are running for public office, you have your whole life in front of you, you are no match for me in battle, that kind of thing."

"You point is well taken freedman," replied the magistrate with a quiver in his voice. "I will grant equal hardships between the stories. Are you going to continue to a greater sadness?"

"If you like; however, I have lived one life more than you. Thus, most certainly I have known greater tragedy than you."

"Are you declaring victory already?"

"I do have the upper hand if you wish to concede."

"Continue with your story Pervalidus."

I was on my own in the hills of Campainia. A few days after my escape, a huge commotion kept me on the run. Roman soldiers were running here and there. "Certainly, I could not be the cause of this," I thought to myself.

Nevertheless, I made extra care to hide. Eventually, my hunger overcame my desire to hide. One night, I came upon a small camp of about one hundred men. They had Roman army weapons, but this was not a Roman army camp. I was on the march with the Roman army for weeks, and I knew their habits.

I was certain they would not miss a little food. Needless to say, I was careless and immediately caught. The men on guard took me to their Thracian leader. I explained that I had just escaped, and I wished to return to my home in Bithynia.

"Bithynia?" exclaimed their leader. "My home was just across the Bosporus from Bithynia! I too hope to see those shores again!"

I immediately offered the man my services. The crowd of men laughed. "You have not yet achieved manhood," interrupted the leader. "What service could you provide this group of escaped slaves?"

"You are escaped slaves too?" I asked forgetting the other part of his question.

"We have freed ourselves from the bonds of slavery, and freed some Roman soldiers of their weaponry. We plan to raise a small army, and will fight our way out of Rome to our homes!" shouted the leader rousing a big cheer. When the cheers died down, he continued, "You, my young friend, have not seen enough summers to do battle..."

"I have already killed my first man!" I responded.

"With what weapon houseboy -- your good looks?" the leader asked to the roars of laughter.

"I smashed his head with a wine carafe," I said timidly.

The crowd erupted with even more laughter. "Fair enough young warrior, we accept your wine carafe! They call me Spartacus! We will teach you to use the sword, for when you enter manhood, you can join us. These are my Galatian cohorts Crixus and Oenomaus. Mind them well!"

Spartacus took me under his wing and taught me how to fight. He became my second father. I learned how to fight under these men. We camped under the shadow of the great mountain Vesuvius. We gathered what we could from the surrounding countryside. Rural slaves came from all around to join us, and we all prepared for the inevitable upcoming battle.

The first test in battle came against 3000 raw Roman recruits. Using the great mountain to our advantage, we surprised the inexperienced troops and easily defeated them. I was in the group to draw the Roman soldiers up the mountainside, but the experienced fighters, using vines and ropes descended the mountain and got behind the Romans. Even with our lesser numbers, our group surrounded and routed the Romans quickly. Our reputation began growing throughout Rome.

However, in the shadow Mount Vesuvius was not the ideal place to winter. Thus, we packed up and moved farther south. We trained and gathered more numbers as we traveled. Our numbers grew steadily as we traveled.

On our southward march, we met two other legions of about three thousand men each. While our numbers were growing, the Roman soldiers still outnumbered us in these encounters. However, the leadership of Spartacus is what allowed us to prevail against the stronger force. These encounters also allowed us to more weapons and armor.

More slaves joined us as we marched towards the coast. Once we reached the coast, we continued along the shore until we reached the town of Thurii. We spent the winter living off the land. We trained and prepared for our next move in the spring. Despite Spartacus's objections, the Galatians continued to gather a large amount of spoils from the Roman countryside.

From our encounters and some pillaging, we were well equipped. We had a fully functioning encampment and spent a comfortable winter in Thurii. Our smiths turned out weapons, and we had grains and meat from the land.

We were well rested and trained for the upcoming challenges in the spring. Our numbers had grown immensely. There must have been 90,000 men, women, and children in our camp.

I had trained hard. I could beat every youngster in the camp in combat. I even held my own against many of the adults. Thus, Spartacus allowed me to join the fighting men. I was officially apart of the "Gladiatorial Army." While my beard still did not grow, I came of age during that winter.

With this army, Spartacus was confident we could march north and leave Rome. We would certainly have to face opposition, but we were well trained and willing to fight.

Crixus and many of his fellow Galatians were anxious for more plunder. They gathered many riches from the towns on our march. Spartacus had a difficult time keeping him in line. At one point, Crixus and his group split off from the rest of us, and the Romans got the upper hand on his group. We arrived and defeated the legions from Rome, but before we could arrive, Crixus died in battle.

We fought a few other Roman legions on our northward march. At the foot of the Alps, we defeated the governor of Cisalpine Gaul at Mutina. We could then march out of Rome to our homes. I longed to go home. There was news of Mithridates still fighting against Lucullus. Thus, I decided to follow where Spartacus led. Many left our numbers to return to their homes.

In our battles, we had gathered many riches, and many wanted more. Others enjoyed their revenge on Rome, and wanted to continue. Others, like me, would follow Spartacus to wherever he led. We were family.

Spartacus decided that we would continue our fight against Rome. Thus, we headed south again. At this time, there were probably 120,000 slaves in our camp and an army of about 70,000 men.

We were a well-seasoned army now. We met our first consular legion and soundly defeated them. A rumor spread that the Consul Marcus Licinius Crassus was displeased with the cowardice of his men, and he executed every tenth man. Our army was strong and men trembled at the thought of facing us.

We did lose some men in our battles, be we managed to survive another season of war. We had crossed the Roman Republic twice, and we were still at large. This time, we wintered at Rhegium. Once again, we trained and planned. Spartacus came up with the plan of making the island of Sicily our own. We would sail to the island and continue the slave revolt there. We would thus free the island from Roman rule and live free ourselves.

We used some of our plunder to book passage to Sicily. However, the sailors betrayed us, and they set sail without our army. Thus, we had to continue our fight on Roman soil.

Our army was strong. However, the Senate would certainly bring the full force of Rome upon us now. We had freed many slaves, and had pillaged many towns. Spartacus must have known our chances were poor even though the numbers were strong.

With the collapse of the Sicily plan, we marched northward in the spring to begin another fighting season. However, when we reached the river Silarus, Spartacus ordered a large group of us to leave the army and head north. I was in that group. He told us that we were to meet a small army of Pompey's and engage them. This was to give him more time against the army of Crassus.

I learned later, that this was a lie. He wanted us to escape the slaughter at the hands of Crassus. We did avoid the slaughter and did engage Gnaeus Pompius Magnus. However, we were no match for him and he routed this minor force easily.

Pompey's men captured me, and I was marched once again into the Roman Capitol. Along the Apian way, on our march into Rome, I saw many of my cohorts crucified along the road. Mile after mile members of Spartacus's army were hanging there. I did not see Spartacus, so I assumed he must have died in the battle against Crassus.

Upon our arrival in Rome, they paraded us in front of the Roman people as a part of Pompey's Triumph. I was part of his spoils of war. Pompey awarded me to Crassus in gratitude for his part in the "Servile War." Despite Pompey facing only a small group of 5,000 slaves, he was given credit for ending the war.

Even at my young age, Crassus knew that I was a formidable soldier. To play the part I spoke of all the men I had killed. In fact, at that time I had killed 103 men including my first master. I informed Crassus that I had killed twice that number.

He could tell that I could be quite a liability; therefore, Crassus sold me to a slave auctioneer. It was then that Crassus pardoned of my past crimes.

I found myself once again naked on the slave-auctioning block. I had fully reached manhood by this time, and I had a few scars from battle. I was a fierce warrior who had seen only fifteen summers. I made sure everyone knew I could kill each and every one of the bidders.

Thus, I was not about to fetch the price of 125,000 sesterces I had the first time. In fact, the gladiatorial school of Lentulus Batiatus's purchased me for four sesterces. I was going to where Spartacus had just escaped. I was going to replace my second father in gladiatorial combat.

Not only did I lose my first family, I also lost my second one. Further, in many people's eyes, I was still a child.

"You were just a child," replied the magistrate. "You did not know what it was like to have things."

"I was not yet your age, and I had lost two families."

"Bah! They were not Romans! They may count as half families in front of the Senate."

"My story is clearly more tragic than what may happen to you if Pompey loses. The fates can be cruel or kind."

"Curse the fates! I will not concede that a slave's losses could equal a high-born Roman's losses."

"My story is not yet complete. There are the years in gladiatorial service..."

"Freedman, you were a slave. In gladiatorial service, the Roman citizens lavished you with great wealth and fame. You achieved wealth and fame that I could never match in any service for Rome. Thousands of Romans cheered your name. I was one such Roman."

"In the arena I killed many men. Some I knew."

"Gladiatorial combat was a show! Rarely was anyone killed. You traveled from town to town with the same group. It was all staged!"

"The fight you mentioned earlier when I fought three men, that was not staged. The patron of the festival wanted me dead."

"I am guessing his wife wanted to bed you! That is the tragedy of your life! Many women lusting after you, yet you could have none of it without risking crucifixion."

"Still..."

"I doubt that you did not bed your share of wealthy women. You were one of the most popular gladiators in all of Rome. The crowd cheered 'Validus Maximus -- Validus Maximus!' at many contests. I shouted that myself! Roman's knew you throughout the republic. You retired wealthy and -- more importantly -- healthy. You are wealthy enough to purchase slaves yourself! They likely have tragic stories similar to yours, but you care not one whit for their stories. If you lost that wealth now, that would come close to what I will lose."

"No doubt you would suggest we both back the same chariot. We both put all we have on Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus -- the pretender to the victory against my second father Spartacus."

"Uh..."

"Tempt the fates with a general who in many instances was simply at the right place at the right time. A general who defeated only outnumbered and weaker forces, and has let his hubris lead where an army must follow."

"Er..."

"No! I will not place my wealth in his hands for I have no confidence in his ability to lead his legions against well-trained legions. This conflict will play itself out, and I will retain my livelihood by staying clear."

"I ought to kill you ... What ho -- a rider approaches. He is one of my messengers. What news?"

"Sir," replied the messenger taking one knee in front of the two men. "There is news from Brundisium. The forces of Caesar and Pompey have clashed. Caesar was victorious, yet Pompey lives. The great general managed to escape. There is more conflict ahead."

"Tell my men I shall join them!"

"Yes sir," replied the messenger. He arose, mounted his horse, and rode off.

"You have not heard the last from me freedman!" shouted the magistrate as he rushed to his horse.

"May the fates be kind to you," replied Pervalidus who walked back to his house at a leisurely pace.

"Is all well with the magistrate?" asked Pervalidus's wife, Bella Pervalidia, as he approached the house.

"There was no difficulty with the course of events last night," replied the freed gladiator. "However, he tried to recruit me to join him in the fight against Gaius Julius Caesar."

"You are not joining him are you?"

"I have done my duty for the Republic, I owe them nothing further. Nonetheless, the magistrate made me recount much of my life story. It got me thinking about the slaves I own."

"What about them?"

"The magistrate reminded me, that I was once a slave, but now I am a slave owner. I detested my slavery..."

"Your household could not run without help," started Bella. "You treat your staff quite fairly. They do have to work for their meals and place to sleep, but you are not harsh like some have recommended. Free life does not guarantee ease, in fact, ease can only occur on the backs of others."

"You are wise. How did you get so?"

"Your words are kind."

"Do you ever wish to return to your home?"

"Like you, my home is no more. War has torn my home apart, and I am grateful that you purchased me and took me away from all that."

"You were well worth the 75,000 sesterces I paid for you!"

"I was a bargain! The bidding was slow on that day."

"Your words are true again!"

"If you wish, we can query the slaves on their situations."

"You have put my mind at ease, and I thank you. There is no need for any further conversation in this regard. Now, on a different subject, with the defeat of the highwaymen, we have some goods that we should be redistribute. We should feast in honor of Neptune tomorrow."

"It will be arranged."

"There will be much talk of Caesar and his victory at Brundisium. We have been fortunate not to be involved in this civil war. It is good to being a freeman rather than a citizen at times."

"What does this victory mean to us?"

"I think it is inevitable that Caesar will defeat Pompey, but what his plans for the Republic are anyone's guess. He may have himself voted dictator for life. If that should happen, we may have to offer some allegiance. We shall wait and see."

It all began when James Henry Millard was an undergraduate lab assistant to the prominent Dr. Jeffery M. Decker. Dr. Decker was a leader in the field of optics. With Jim Millard's help, Dr. Decker invented a very special kind of glass. There was nothing like it in the world.

In their early experiments, they were bending light as far as was possible without distorting it. The Decker/Millard team was responsible for several exciting discoveries in this area. In their earliest efforts, they were able to bend the light of a laser almost eighty-seven degrees with very little distortion. However, they were always trying to improve upon these results.

The research team had experimented with several substances. They had refined the manufacture of refracting glass, and they were experimenting with the substances added to regular glass that would bend the light. In one particular experiment, they added a super-conductive material instead of their usual ceramic material. The light was bent as predicted. However, when they added a current, they got the most astonishing results. The glass was no longer transparent; however, it was not opaque either.

At first, they thought they had bent the light ninety degrees. Thus, all the visible light would come from the edges of the glass. By experimenting with a laser, they discovered that this was not the case. The distinctive red laser light did not register on the glass. In addition, the image did not dim when the edges were covered. In fact, the glass had a strange glow even when there was no light at all shining on the glass. Moreover, at times the team could see strange shadows moving in their glass. These shadows would come and go in a random fashion. The team could find little order to the movements of these shadows. They repeated the experiment several times, and still the shadows appeared.

For three years, they experimented with their glass. With improvements in super-conductive ceramics, there came improvements in the glass. Furthermore, with the independent discovery of a transparent film capable of heating and cooling the glass, they were able to reach a wide temperature range to observe the reaction of the super-conductive material. Thus, they were able to vary the amount of resistance to electrical flow throughout the glass. In this manner, they could find the ideal amount of resistance for given amount of voltage. This produced very good results. The shadows were beginning to take forms.

The team also experimented with the amplitude of the current flowing through the glass. When they determined optimal amplitude for the differing voltages, the forms became even clearer. However, the images were still not perfect. Optimizing the needed voltage and adding the ideal amount of ceramics was the next step. This part of the research took the longest. After painstaking trial and error, the images from the glass became very clear. It was through the sharpness and clarity of the images that it became clear that this was not a television image. The picture became very sharp. It had a better resolution than any known television signal.

Not only did these images not look like television images, they did not behave like television images. The people seen in the glass were not very interesting. These figures appeared to have rather mundane lives. Moreover, the movements of a television set do not alter the picture of that television set. It was a different story with this glass. As the glass moved, the pictured changed. It was as if they were looking at a mirror. The background and point of view changed with each movement of the glass. The scientific team was at a loss to explain this phenomenon.

However, this did not alter the enthusiasm of the team; in fact, it drove them to a new goal. The next several months the researchers tried to get sound to correspond with the images coming from this view screen. All these experiments were a resounding failure. The sound was on no broadcast frequency that they could locate. The team tried every possible frequency. When two people in the glass would converse, their conversation was a secret never to be heard by the science team. With failure after failure, the team finally gave up. The secrets conveyed by the images were safe from the intruding scientists. It was time to alter the course of the experiment.

By observing the images during these several months, various team members noted that all the images were relatively stable. An object, other than a person, appearing in the glass on one day was usually there the next day. In particular, Dr. Decker noticed a picture of an individual playing a tuba. This picture appeared on the far wall of the room that was conveyed by the glass. When someone obtained the first clear images, this picture appeared in the background. On any given day, that same picture would be hanging there on the far wall of the room depicted in the glass.

Furthermore, the people on the other side of the glass would change their routines. That is, they would not be doing the same thing every day at 4:37 PM. As a matter of fact, it appeared that the people in the glass were living their own lives. They would do things that people do ordinarily. Further, the team's log noted that the style of clothing that these people wore was very out of date.

Nonetheless, the stability of the scenes helped guide the team to the next stage of experimentation. The new objective would be to "change the channel". Maybe the team could pick up on some new images. Possibly there would be some audio to be found for a new set of images.

Changing temperature, amplitude, voltage, and dozens of other factors, image after image was discovered. After several weeks of experimenting, Jim Millard made a remarkable discovery. With his particular set of inputs, several very familiar scientists appeared, and they were working with a strange piece of glass. It was the team's own image appearing in the glass and in the image within the image was a picture of an individual playing a tuba. Dr. Decker stated, "It is like looking through a window into a whole new world."

That was it! You could almost hear the lights being turned on. It all made sense now. The reason that the images changed when moving the glass around was the fact that the scientists were looking through a window into a strange world. As the window moved, so did their view of this world. These were not television images at all. The analogy of looking into a new world also helped explain the stability of the images. The people in the glass were real people with real lives. This also helped explain the clothing that these people wore. That was the style then. In addition, one of these people living in this strange world obviously liked the tuba and thus hung a picture of a tuba player on the wall.

Furthermore, this helped explain why they could not find any sound on any frequency. The sounds coming from the people in this strange new world were not broadcast on any frequency. They were simply spoken. A completely new technology would be required to discover what these people had to say.

Now the team had to prove their theory that these were images were from another dimension. However, the scientists were euphoric because it was apparent that it could be possible to observe what was happening in a dimension other than their own. In a world with only three perceivable dimensions, people could see into an infinite number of different dimensions.

All of this pushed the researchers and of course Jim Millard into the realm of the time/space continuum. He would devote the rest of his life, studying dimensions, time, and any other relevant theories to aid in his search. A search for something he had not even yet imagined.

After all of the experimentation, Jim graduated. During his course of studies, he earned two Bachelors of Science degrees. He earned one in Mathematics and the other in Electrical Engineering. However, he did not wish to leave the team. Thus, he rejoined them as a graduate student. Although Jim was still a student, he had quite a bit of experience on the project. In fact, Dr. Decker was the only one with more. Thus, he was given the task of discovering how the glass worked the way it did.

Others members of the team, depending on their field of expertise, were given different aspects of the glass to research. Everyone had a guess on how the glass worked. Jim had the task of testing to see if any of the hypotheses could lead to a predictable outcome. Jim worked hard and long on his task. He did experiment after experiment. With every change in image, he would attempt to find a date for it. Naturally, he also noted the temperature, the voltage, the amperage, and the rest of his experimental inputs. He wanted to determine how the combination of the substances made this inter-dimensional viewing possible. Inter-dimensional viewing or IDV was what the team called the glass experimentation.

Jim's personal hypothesis was the light was bent over three hundred and sixty degrees. This light rotation was responsible for the viewing of past events. This is why it all started with light bending glass. In his guess, each rotation made it possible to view another moment backwards in time. Thus, if he could determine how many rotations the light would take, he could determine how far back in time he could go.

After following the direction of Dr. Decker's suggested testing, it was time for Jim to test his own personal hypothesis. Thus, he made a mathematical model of what he believed was happening with the glass. He would have to determine how it would be possible to control how many revolutions the light would have to make to observe a particular moment in time.

With the collection of a large sample of data, he was confident that he could establish his theory. With his experience with the glass, he was confident on which variables he needed to alter to give more rotations. With the superconductive material embedded in the glass, temperature was definitely a major factor. The amount of current traveling through the glass was also important.

After a few experiments, Jim believed he was on the cusp of a major breakthrough. Not only could he predict which set of previously noted images would appear in the glass; he could change the various variables a certain amount to change from image to image without significant changes to the glass. This was of particular importance; because up to this point, major changes were required to view a new image in any one piece of glass. With Jim's discovery, instead of taking days to reconfigure the glass it would take a matter of hours. With a little more work, he was certain that image after image he could switch between images in still less time.

He also experimented with how to make his own image appear in the glass. He discovered how to see what was happening at the spot he was standing fifteen, thirty, sixty minutes ago. The small increments in time were difficult configure, but he was very adept at manipulating the glass.

With his rotational theory as a working model, he was confident in establishing when the image was taking place. He refined this new process to be able to select images to the nearest quarter hour. He was then able to see what he was doing just minutes before the present time. This created several interesting images. He was able to view an almost infinite number of himself as if he was looking into a mirror with a mirror directly behind him.

He dated the men in the room with the Tuba to be 1914. He looked at the records of the area, and was confident of his date. The more he researched the stronger he felt his theory was. He was fairly sure his calculations in this new body of research were correct; however, being the perfectionist that was Jim Millard, he wanted to be absolutely positive that it would work for times long since gone. He was sure it would work for time recently elapsed. However, could his results be extrapolated? How many rotations could he make before the images were no longer viewable?

If his upcoming experiment was successful, it would forever change the perception of inter-dimensional viewing. After this experiment, the glass could forever be thought of as an inter-time viewing device instead of just an inter-dimensional viewing device.

The calculations that needed to be performed were extraordinarily complex. It would take several hours of work to create correct set of variables for his upcoming, important experiment. To be able to change the images in a less involved fashion; Jim recruited some engineers to help him. He told his new associates what he expected from the device they were to work on.

Working with these engineers, Jim was able to connect a laptop computer to the glass. The engineers were able to connect the output from the computer to the glass and use this output to change the amplitude of the current. The computer could also change the temperature of the film covering the glass, and the myriad of other variables that were essential in changing images.

When the engineers had accomplished the goal Jim had set for them, he was able to enter the time and date into the computer. The glass would respond by showing Jim the image he wished to view.

Jim was ready to attempt the experiment of a lifetime. He was going to show that his theory was correct, and he was going to do it in high fashion. He was confident that his work with the glass could have astounding consequences. He was going to show that his theories were applicable to times long gone. That the IDV was a useful project and that there were some valid uses for it.

Furthermore, along with this experiment, he would show the glass would also work in a place other than the laboratory. Up to that point, the only images observed were within the laboratory itself. He was going to take the glass outside the lab, and give it a major test.

After his experiment was complete, Jim organized a colloquium with several of the faculty of the university. Jim had an important announcement, and he wanted the entire university to share with the team's discovery. His preliminary work was finished, and it was time to exhibit his findings. He was going to put on a show.

When the faculty was gathered together, Jim got up to speak. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, "I just flew in from Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and boy are my arms tired!"

A few titters of laughter came from the audience. It was an old joke, and perhaps too old. However, Jim liked starting his speeches with a little joke, and he had to press on.

"I am sure you are aware of the work that Dr. Jeffery Decker, myself, and others have been working on regarding the inter-dimensional glass or the IDV project. A few years ago, I was given the task of determining how the glass was able to give the images that it was giving us. Exclusively, I worked with our glass in this field of research, and I have been able to determine how it does indeed work.

"With the help of Mr. Algernon Quintell and Ms. Willamina Harris, two local engineers, I have been able to fabricate a device that will allow me to view almost any time that I may wish to view. To be specific, this glass will allow me to view what has happened at the location where we place the glass at any time I select.

"We took the device to Gettysburg for a test. I entered the date November 19, 1863 into the device I have before you. I also entered the time of 6:00 AM. However, the cooling film would not get cold enough to go back that many years, and we did not have a powerful enough generator to increase the amperage. Thus, we had to balance the temperature using liquid nitrogen. After several hours of waiting and looking through the glass, I was able to take this video."

Jim placed a tape into the VCR and images appeared on the monitors located throughout the room. "As you may know, the IDV only collects light. Sound does not linger. Thus, I assigned some undergrads to obtain audio from other sources. They managed to obtain a ancient recording, and thus, the crispness of the video will not match up with the poor audio. However, it was a recording from 1863."

The video was playing, and it looked a bit strange through the occasional liquid nitrogen flow. However, the crowd soon realized what it was when they heard, "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."

"In case you were wondering, this is the actual image of Abraham Lincoln giving his Gettysburg Address. This is not a recreation or fabrication of any kind. That is Lincoln himself." Jim explained. He pointed to several features that indicated it was indeed the sixteenth president of the United States.

"Obviously, this new technology has tremendous potential. Any scientist or historian will be able to view events as they actually happened. Things will be seen that have never been seen by anyone of our time. Many questions that have long gone unanswered, will now have answers. Speaking of which, do any of you have any questions at this time?"

"Can you give us a real-time demonstration?" one of the professors asks.

"Certainly. First, we will need a marker or milestone that occurred in this very room. Something that a number of you will recognize. Are there any suggestions?"

"Several years ago, the building on this sight burnt down," came a voice in the crowd. "Maybe we could see this fire."

"Or maybe we could watch last weeks lecture on asexual reproduction of aquatic plants given by Dr. Finnley," suggested another person.

"Your lectures are none too exciting either Dr. Williamson," responded Dr. Finnley.

"I know what we can see," interrupted another participant. "Remember when former President Carter gave his speech to the faculty? That would be a recognizable land mark as it were."

"That is a good suggestion, but I need the exact time and date in order to view that occasion, Dr. Faulklin," responded Jim. "I need this information entered into this device in order to view this episode."

"I showed the video taken from that occasion to my 'Modern Government' class last week," added Dr. Williamson. "The video is in my office, and the time and date were noted on the tape."

"Great!" exclaimed Jim. "We will be able to compare the images from the glass with the images coming from the video tape."

When Dr. Williamson returned with the video tape, Jim replaces his video of Abraham Lincoln with the Jimmy Carter video. The time and date were recorded on the bottom of the video image, and Jim entered those numbers into the glass's laptop computer. He took a little bit of time to synchronize the images. The audience was amazed at the clarity and accuracy of the images coming from the screen. To assure the assembled professors that no tricks were involved, Jim moved the glass around. By doing this, Jim was able to show several different angles to the speech given by President Carter. Everyone in attendance was amazed.

"As you can see, the images given through the glass are very accurate. With this device we can get an accurate view of several events in history," continued Jim.

"What about viewing the future?" asked Dr. Williamson. "I would like to know who will win the Kentucky Derby next month."

"I would to," replied Jim. "However, from the few tests I have done, I have been unable to predict what will happen in the future. This device picks up light that has already reflected off surfaces. There is no way to pick up light that has yet to be reflected. If we reverse the polarity, we get the exact same images. Nothing that we know of will pick up images of future occurrences."

"How can you be sure of the accuracy of the images from the past?" inquired a skeptic in the crowd.

"The several images that I have been able to catalog are very consistent," responded Jim. "If the images from the past were not consistent, I would be very skeptical of the results from the past also. However, the same images from August 13, 1984 at 2:30 PM are always the same. Furthermore, I have done tests similar to the one we have just completed involving former President Carter. I have been able to match views from the past with those on video tape. It is this reason that I am reasonably confident in the images taken from the past."

"What is your theory on the time/space continuum?" inquired the skeptic.

"My theory on the time/space continuum is not yet complete, and I would not like to discuss it at this time. However, I would like to add that history is events that have happened. As we all know, light has some very unusual properties. For instance, it behaves like a beam and a wave. Somehow, the IDV glass picks up the light from past events. I do not know if it is being reflected off distant objects, or if it is a previously unknown property of light."

"Very good!" inserts Dr. Williamson. "There are several factors that are involved in the unraveling the mysteries of time/space."

"Yes, that is a good point. Now, are there anymore questions?" asked Jim.

After answering a few questions and making a few more demonstrations, Jim gave his theory on how the glass works. He discussed in detail on how he believed the light was being rotated through the glass. After a while, no one in the crowd could think of any more questions to ask Jim. "Well, thank you all for coming. If you would like to know more, my paper on this research will soon be available. You can also ask your questions to me at anytime. You all know where to find me. Thanks again for coming, and drive safely."

The crowd filed out, and a few come up to congratulate Jim on his work. Many mentioned that they would be very interested in reading Jim's paper describing his research.

It was this research and the discovery of the inter-time viewing that Mr. Millard used in his dissertation. This was no ordinary research paper. This would enable Jim to take an important step in his life. With this impressive body of work and the support of Dr. Decker, Jim would no longer be Mr. Jim Millard. He would now be Dr. Jim Millard, Ph.D.

Jim was finished with his paper, and he would receive his diploma at the end of the semester. Years of hard work and sacrifice would pay off at that time. Jim was the leading, and perhaps only authority on inter-time viewing. It was a title that made Jim very proud.

On the occasion of Jim's upcoming graduation, Dr. Decker threw Jim a party. It was on this happy occasion that Jim received some unhappy news. At this party, Dr. Decker announced his retirement. "I have pictures to paint and stories to write," Dr. Decker informed the people in attendance. "I sure hope none of this interferes with my watching the Cubs on TV!"

Everybody, including Jim, was at a loss, but Dr. Decker assured Jim that he would recommend that Jim take over for him at the university. That assurance did not ease Jim's fears. Dr. Decker would be missed; most of all by Jim, but almost everyone believed the line of excellence would continue. It would be the inevitable passing of the baton from mentor to student.

Jim naturally applied for the position vacated by Dr. Decker's retirement. With the strong recommendation from Dr. Decker, Jim felt confident about acquiring the empty place in the Physics department. He was very popular at the university and had a most impressive academic record.

Because of fair hiring laws, the university posted the position nationally. Despite the overwhelming array of qualified applicants, Jim felt very self-assured. "Who would be more qualified for the post than me," Jim occasionally thought to himself. "Besides, who would want the job?"

A search committee was formed and interviews were performed. With each step in the hiring process, Jim became more and more confident that the position was his.

The final decision was to be made in late July or early August. Jim wanted to take this opportunity to take a long needed vacation. He did not take any summers off in his college years because he always went to summer school. With some money he had saved up, he decided to do some traveling during that summer. It would be a well-deserved rest.

His final interview was on May 22nd. After the interview, the search committee informed Jim that he was one of the three finalists. With that news, he felt that it would be useless to worry. In fact, Dr. Williamson, who was one of the hiring committee members, told Jim, "Why don't they have you sign a contract now and cut out all this rigmarole?"

Jim nodded modestly and returned to his apartment to make some plans. He was looking forward to seeing some of his old friends, and partaking in some sort of adventurous activities.

It did not take Jim long to decide where he wanted to go. He decided there were two longtime friends who he kept in contact but hadn't seen in several years. He talked to a travel agent, and he would leave for Florida on June 1st. This would give him plenty of time to get his affairs in order.

Before he left, Dr. Williamson asked for an address where Jim could be reached "...just in case something comes up." Jim gave him the information Dr. Williamson wanted, and Jim embarked on his adventure.

Jim's friend Ken Michaels met him at the St. Petersburg-Clearwater International airport. Jim wanted to spend a couple of weeks in St. Petersburg and then he was going to visit another friend, Wayne Leonard, in Charleston, South Carolina. He was greatly looking forward to being somewhere tropical. The summers in central Texas were a little hot and dry. It was not exactly what Jim wanted on this vacation. Furthermore, something about the Atlantic Ocean had always appealed to Jim.

Ken took Jim to several sights in the area. Jim saw Busch Gardens, Tiki Gardens, the Salvador Dali Museum, and various other sights in the St. Petersburg/Tampa area. However, Jim spent most of his time at the beaches. Jim loved to swim and bask in the sun. He spent several hours at Clearwater beach, reminiscing with Ken.

Ken was a high school friend of Jim's who was now a professor of philosophy at the University of Tampa. They argued about everything but were still the best of friends. Sometimes being a philosophy professor would give Ken an arguing advantage, but Jim was a good debater in his own right. At times, the two friends got several strange looks from passing beachcombers, but this did not bother them. They would continue on arguing about who was better Batman or Spiderman or what was the best movie of all time.

It was a very relaxing time for Jim despite the occasional agony of defeat. He did not like losing any of the debates. Jim always loved a good debate and Ken was more than willing to oblige him. After two weeks of arguing in the sunshine of Florida, Jim had to press on. He hated to leave, but Wayne and Charleston were waiting.

Jim and Ken had one last debate on the safest mode of transportation, but before the issue could be resolved, Jim had to bid his friend farewell and head for South Carolina. Wayne was one of Jim's most interesting friends. Wayne was a forest ranger in the Francis Marion National Forest. Jim was about to spend two weeks in the wilderness. Being from Montana, Jim was quite at home in the wild; however, he had spent several years at the university in the middle of Texas. There was not a great deal of wilderness in the city of Austin. Further, the South Carolina wilderness is very different from the wilds of Montana or Texas for that matter.

Being in this lovely forest setting gave Jim the chance to take pictures. He did take some pictures in Florida, but Ken was a bit impatient when it came to that sort of thing. When at a particular sight, Ken would not wait around very long. In South Carolina, Jim took pictures of everything. Wayne was very patient and sometimes took some pictures himself. Jim had a digital SLR camera, and he loved to take photos, especially of the scenery. He barely filled his memory card in Florida, and he almost needed to purchase another one to get all the sights of the South Carolina area where he was staying. He spent one whole day taking pictures of wildlife in the Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge.

Wayne and Jim also reminisced about the old days. They used to camp in Wayne's back yard when they were little. They thought it was the greatest in those days. Wayne especially loved it. He would always say that is why he became a forest ranger. There was nothing like the thrill of the outdoors. Being a ranger allowed Wayne to camp out regularly. When he was not camping, he was at least in the wilderness. Wayne was the picture of a contented human being. Jim could never think of a happier person than Wayne. Seeing someone so happy made Jim happy. South Carolina was a very relaxing leg of his trip.

After a couple of weeks in South Carolina, Jim went home to Montana. Jim's dad still lived in Great Falls. His mom had died when Jim was an undergraduate, so he tried to get back home as often as he could. He became really close to his dad after his mom died. He never dreaded coming home to spend some time with his dad.

Jim's dad was the owner operator of a hardware store. Jack Millard never went to college, but often regretted that he never got the chance. Jim's grandparents were never that well off, and they could not afford to send Jack to college. After Jack graduated from high school, he went right to work. He worked in several retail settings until he got the opportunity to open his own business. For ten years, Jack ran a very successful store, and he probably would have retired if his wife had not died. The store was now his reason for getting up in the morning. It was very good therapy for him.

Jim and his dad often talked about Jim's mother. Inevitably, this always led to the same question. "When are you going to find a wife?"

This question Jim could never find a good answer for, and it was the reason he did not often wish to talk about his mother. It always meant having the same conversation.

"How have you been Jimmy?" began Jack.

"Dad, when will you stop calling me that? Do you know I have my Ph.D. now? I am no longer your little Jimmy."

"Sorry, doctor, old habits die hard."

"OK, I guess I can forgive you. I have been fantastic. Ken and Wayne say 'Hi!'"

"How are they doing?"

"Very well, they seem to be very happy."

"Are any of them married?"

"Dad! Are we going to open this old can of worms already?"

"Well?"

"Ken has a serious girl friend, but she is in Paris on some sort of trip or another. I didn't get to meet her. Wayne, well, he lives in another world, and he hasn't met anyone who wants to share it with him. He has met a few women, but nothing serious has come from them yet."

"What about you? Have you met anyone that trips your trigger?"

"Dad, I don't know? It is not that my standards are too high; it is just that nobodies standards are that low."

"Don't sell yourself short son."

"I won't dad, but most women are afraid of me, and the rest have this preconceived notion of who I am. I can't live up to either perception. Thus, I am stuck being alone."

"The big problem you have is you are too shy."

"I agree, that is part of my problem. However, another part is the fact that I actually like being alone. Not many people can understand that."

"I suppose you're right."

"Besides, Jack Jr. has already made you a grandpa. You don't have to worry about that."

"I am just concerned about your happiness."

"Thanks for your concern, but I will be all right. So, how is the store?"

"Business is good. So are you trying to change the subject?"

"Me? No, never, I would never try and do anything like that."

"Son, I would like you know, that I am very proud of you. By the way, the university called they wanted you to call the committee in the morning."

"Did they say what they wanted?"

"Nope! Sorry, I didn't ask either."

"I guess I will find out tomorrow. So, how are Jack, Carol, and little Sean?"

Like always, the conversation of the father and son went long into the night. They talked about just about everything. They even revisited the marriage conversation. When they were equally exhausted, they went to bed.

Jim called the university the next morning. The committee wanted to meet with him in mid-July. He arranged the meeting with them for July 22nd. They were not very specific on the details of this meeting. He tried to find out what it was about, but they were very tight-lipped about the whole thing. He would have to wait until July to find out what they were considering.

This delay would still give him some more time with his dad. He may even meet up with some high school friends that still lived in the area. He was not sure who was still in town, but a few trips around town on his bicycle would let everyone know he was in town.

Not much of note occurred in the last few weeks of Jim's vacation. This is mostly what Jim had hoped. He relaxed. He read quite a few things that he simply did not have time for while he was at school. It was a restful and enjoyable time. However, he could only take so much of this. He was ready to get back to the old grind. When July 21st arrived, he bid a fond farewell to everyone in his hometown, and he left for Texas.

His apartment was still in order after his extended trip. However, it was slightly dustier than he remembered. He unpacked his clothes and was back into the swing of things in a matter of hours. It was as though he had never left. When all was put into order, Jim turned on his stereo and finished reading the book he had started on the airplane. He was quite tired from the travel, so he turned in early to get a head start on the next day. He wanted to be ready for a day that would be very important to the rest of his life.

Jim arose early to prepare for this meeting. He showered, shaved, and threw on some errand-running clothes. He needed to get some things done before his big two o'clock meeting. The first thing he did was get his haircut. It had been quite a long time since his last cut. It was due.

The library was Jim's next stop. He wanted to get photocopies of all the articles of his that were published. He had quite a few, and he was proud of all of them. If they asked him about his research, he would be prepared.

He stopped for a bite to eat at his favorite local Chinese restaurant before continuing on his errand running. He needed to pick up a transcript, and some other things that he ordered from the University. Jim's background led him to be prepared for anything. He would have a briefcase full of things that they may wish to see at his meeting. Whatever he needed, he wanted to have with him.

When the running was finished, Jim cleaned himself up a bit, and put on his suit. His briefcase was jammed with paper, but he felt confident that there was nothing left to do. He was as prepared as he could be.

He showed up at the office of Dr. Williamson a few minutes early. Actually, he would have been fifteen minutes early, but he waited around outside the building. He was a little nervous, but he did not want to appear to be. When Jim made it to Dr. Williamson's door, Dr. Williamson was sitting at his desk writing something down. "Come in Jim," he says hesitantly. "The rest of the committee will meet us in the lounge. Have a seat."

Jim did not like Dr. Williamson's tone, so he asked, "What is going on? Is there something wrong?"

"Jim, they asked me to try to break this to you gently. Please sit down. I tried all I could, but they wouldn't listen to anything I said."

"What? What is it?" begged Jim as he took the chair at the front of Dr. Williamson's desk.

"It appears that you will -- not -- be a part of ... next year's faculty."

Astonishment came over Jim. He did not know what to say. He just slumped in the chair with his mouth open.

Dr. Williamson continued, "They are going to tell you about budget cuts, and this and that. The fact is -- they wanted to go in a different direction. Your research is expensive. In addition, they claim that they were looking for a person with more teaching experience. They didn't want someone who was primarily a researcher. In my opinion, they were all jealous of Dr. Decker's notoriety, and you were an unfortunate victim of that. I am so sorry."

"So what is the point of this meeting?" asked Jim angrily.

"Actually, they want to discuss your options."

"What?"

"Why don't we go to the meeting and talk to them."

Jim and Dr. Williamson walked into the lounge where a dozen or so professors and administrators had gathered. "Have a seat Jim; would you like something to drink?"

"No thanks, let's get on with this," Jim replied curtly.

"Jim, although we did not select you to replace Dr. Decker, we wish you would consider staying as a teaching assistant," started Dr. Faulkner, the head of the math department. "There would be virtually no change in your benefits, and you could remain a part of our team."

"You know the routine well, and your work load wouldn't be very different from the one you have grown accustomed to," added Dr. Marrienna.

"In a few years, you could be a full time member of our faculty," finished Dr. Faulkner.

"Is that all?" asked Jim with as calm a tone that he could muster.

"What would you have us say?" asked Dr. Faulkner.

"I don't really know, but of course, you know I am going to turn you down," replied Jim. "You didn't expect me to settle for being a TA after all the work I have done for you."

"Don't be so hasty, Jim. Think about the offer," Dr. Marrienna inserted.

"Frankly, you cannot have your cake and eat it too. Pardon the platitude," replied Jim. "I do not think I have to consider your proposal. You slap me in the face, and expect me to act like it never happened!!! I am sorry, but I respectfully decline your 'generous' offer."

Before anyone could say anything, Jim had left the room. He had been prepared for just about everything, but what had just occurred. Dr. Williamson went after him. "Jim, hold up! I mean Dr. Millard."

Jim stopped to hear what Dr. Williamson had to say.

"Good for you Jim. I don't blame you. I know of a position that has just become available at the University of Northern Iowa. It is a small university, but I am sure they would love to have you. They are in a bind. One of their professors suddenly became ill. The job is right up your alley. Of course, you would have to teach a class or two. Are you interested?"

"Dr. Williamson, thanks. Can I let you know?" replied Jim fighting the turmoil that was brewing inside him.

"Of course, I understand. You will need some time to absorb all that has happened. I'll give you the information. Do you have your articles with you?"

"Yes, I thought somehow they would be interested in them."

"Could I have them? I want to make a point to the committee."

Jim fumbles into his briefcase and pulls out a large stack of paper. "They're all yours. But, what are you going to do with them?"

"I want to show them the work you have done. Not just the work for the university, but also the work for science in general. It will show them that they shouldn't have let jealousy get in the way of making they're decisions. For the last few weeks, I have researched a few things. I found thirty-seven articles that sight one article or another of yours. That is prestige. Prestige that they just threw away like an old shoe. It also says something about the work you have been doing. It will be good to rub it in their face. I sure hope they don't do this to any of my students when I retire."

"Thanks, Dr. Williamson."

"Hey, you deserved better. Let me know if you need a reference or anything. Consider the Northern Iowa job.

"I will."

Jim was not sure what he was going to do. He was totally unprepared for this rejection. He was completely counting on continuing his work in Texas. The thought had never even occurred to him that they would not want him.

After a long reflection, Jim decided to go back home to Great Falls. He knew he would always be welcomed there. He wanted to go where he knew he would be wanted. If nothing else, he could help his dad out in the hardware store.

However, it never came to working retail. Shortly after he returned home, he learned of an opening in the math department of the University of Great Falls. He applied for that job, and was offered it shortly afterwards. He jumped at the chance. It was not exactly what he wanted, but it would be a good start.

He was a quality researcher, but he did have some teaching experience. He would miss his research, but being in the classroom would be a welcome change.

He taught introductory calculus and physics. He rather enjoyed the experience. Although his first love was research, the interaction with students was a refreshing change of pace. He was a well-liked and respected instructor. He earned the respect of his students and colleagues. He could have spent a long time in this situation.

He did spend five years in Great Falls; however, he deeply wanted to return to his research. Thus, near the end of the fifth school year, he looked for a position at a major research institution. He looked into places where he could continue his research on the time/space continuum. He wanted to learn more about the glass he helped discover.

This is how he ended up teaching in Washington D.C. It was a long way from both Texas and Montana, but this university needed a quality instructor. They had heard of his research, and how it had been neglected. This school believed that Jim could bring them some prestige, as well as, bringing a greatly needed instructor. This would also allow Jim to start again with his research, and continue teaching.

From his notes and with newly discovered materials, Jim began the process of manufacturing a new piece of glass. In his 5-year absence, other researchers perfected the manufacturing processes for a few different ceramic superconductors. These could be ideal for his research.

Furthermore, the range of temperatures that could be reached by the film covering the glass had increased. However, they still did not reach ideal low temperatures to enact the superconductors. Thus, Jim scrapped the film all together. Instead, he decided to imbed small tubes in which frigid or hot liquids could travel. This may affect the view, but temperature control would be greatly simplified.

Now that the temperature could be controlled by the temperature of the liquid, the glass became even more portable. In fact, Jim and his graduate students created a time viewing device that looked like a telescope. This could be mounted upon any vehicle that could supply the glass with the different temperature liquids. In fact, if the time was known before hand, the exact temperature liquid could be transported with any vehicle including a bicycle.

The advanced battery packs provided a constant voltage and amperage. Thus, only temperature was used as a factor. While this did at times restrict which views could be seen, it made the calculations vastly easier.

The portability of the device was a tremendous help for their research. Further, when they constructed the prototype, they intended to use a lens mounting structure. Thus, they could connect the device directly to a video recording device.

Dr. Millard was allowed to hire three graduate assistants. One student would be assigned to his academic class and the other two were to help with his research. He hired Irene Katerin and Luther Suxel to assist in his time/space research and Lo Wai to handle the classwork.

Lo had the most difficult task because Dr. Millard had a very ambitious research project. He would handle some of the teaching load when the other two TAs were doing field research with Dr. Millard.

Dr. Millard and Irene and Luther spent two weeks in Dallas Texas on the end of the term research project while Lo taught Dr. Millard's classes. The three university researches wandered all around various parts of Dallas testing their device. They went to the grassy knoll and the book depository. They recreated the Zapruder film, but they got better images with their modern equipment. They captured Lee Harvey Oswald in the act. They found that there was no one in the grassy Knoll, and concluded that Lee Harvey Oswald did in fact act alone.

The team published their paper and went to several seminars showing their video and promoting their device. They attached Lo's name to the research to thank him for his support.

Jim was sitting in his office pondering the many things he would like to see, but before he made his decision, Irene rushed in yelling. "Dr. Millard!" she cried. "Dr. Millard, the police -- they have arrested -- arrested my brother!"

"What? Tell me what happened," responded Jim in the most compassionate voice he could manage.

"The police -- they have accused Bobby -- of murdering Hanna Forsythe! She was -- his girlfriend! That is why he -- he had that stuff -- that stuff of hers?"

"Irene, what are you talking about?"

"My brother Bobby -- he was arrested -- he is the main suspect -- Hanna Forsythe -- his girlfriend." Irene panted.

"Why do they suspect Bobby?"

"He had some of her stuff. They were going to move in together. They had a little fight, but he didn't do it. He couldn't."

"Calm down Irene. Tell me, when and where Hanna was killed?"

"The police say it was last night around 1:00 A.M. in her apartment."

"Where is her apartment?"

"I -- uh -- I think it's -- 1009 Aspen Drive -- but I am not sure."

"It's okay; I'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do?"

"Go to your brother. Tell him everything will be all right."

Jim knocked timidly on the D.A.'s door. "Come in, it's open," came a voice inside.

Jim peeked in, and saw a middle-aged man sitting at a desk. "What can I do for you?" said the D.A. behind the desk.

"Hello, my name is -- uh -- Jim Millard, and -- er -- well, I have some vital information -- with regard to the -- uh -- the Katerin case," Jim stuttered.

"I am a very busy man, Mr. Millard. What kind of information do you have?" asked Barney Masters impatiently.

"Doctor -- actually," interrupted Jim. He briefly described his experiments, and told him of the video he had made. "Let's see the video," requested Mr. Master.

Jim handed the video to Barney. The D.A. placed the video tape into the VCR. Barney viewed the tape with great interest. Dr. Millard was unable to enter the premises of the victim, so he shot the entire scene from outside her apartment. He made sure that the tower clock on the bank across the street was always visible in the video.

Jim fidgeted and averted his eyes. He knew his video was serious business. Jim remembered the feelings taking the video had evoked in him. He felt as if he was eaves dropping on someone else's life.

The video clearly showed Bobby Katerin leaving the apartment at 11:37 bank time. Irene was clearly visible in the window shortly afterwards. She looked as if she were checking to see if Bobby had actually left. Then a strange man enters the building at 11:52. When the man exists, he is covered in blood. He sulked across the street and entered the apartment complex on that side of the street. After a brief pause, a light goes on in an apartment in that building. The video then ends.

When the video ended, Barney said, "Well, that is very impressive; however, I do not think this video is admissible. The prosecution will argue that your invention has not been proven infallible which of course is the truth."

"Could you say you got an anonymous tip, to get the police into this man's apartment? I am sure they will find some important evidence in that apartment." stated Jim.

"We could do that..., but wouldn't that be a lie?" the D.A. said thoughtfully. "Well, no matter, we could get the wheels started on the warrant now."

"That is all I can ask," Jim responded.

"Furthermore, this case could start a precedent on the use of your experiments in law enforcement. These experiments could make my job a lot easier," added the D.A.

"I don't want to appear uncaring, but I don't really care to have my experiment used in this manner. You see, Bobby Katerin is the brother of one of my assistants. I am doing this as a favor for her. I did not even think about applications in this area. I was hoping it would be a purely scientific project, but I guess that is fairly selfish on my part."

"Your experiments could take a great deal of pressure off the court system. The possibilities in this area are almost endless..." Barney stated.

"I suppose if it would help, I could allow it to be used in this manner if it wouldn't interfere with my research," acquiesced Jim.

"We'll get the ball rolling on this case. Can I keep this video?" inquired Mr. Masters.

"It's all yours. I would appreciate all you can do for Bobby. Thanks again," Jim said as he left the D.A.'s office.

"Don't worry about Bobby, he's in good hands," Mr. Masters said as Jim walked down the hall.

He was not sure what to expect from all his efforts, but he was hopeful that it would result in Bobby's release and acquittal.

Dear Dr. Millard:

We at the Justice Department have been contacted by Barney Masters with regard to your
invention.  We are very much interested in learning more about your new technology.
We believe there are a great many uses for this technology in our country.  We have
been in communication with several agencies, and we feel that with your cooperation,
this technology could be quickly produced in enough numbers to be greatly beneficial
to our country.   In a few days, I will contact you and set up a meeting.  We will
discuss any arrangements at that time.

Sincerely

William J. Claxton
Department of Justice
United States of America

This letter came at quite a surprise to Jim. He did not know that District Attorney Masters had discussed the specifics of the Forsythe case with anyone. To get a letter from the Department of Justice was a big shock.

A few days after receiving the letter, Jim received a call from William Claxton. Mr. Claxton was very anxious to arrange a meeting. The two men compared schedules and the meeting time was set for 2:00 PM the next day. Jim handled the phone conversation as if he had been through it numerous times. Although this was a new experience for him, he was no stranger to arranging meetings. Thus, he would be prepared as always. He did not know what was going to happen, so he would try to be ready for anything.

Mr. Claxton arrived at Jim’s office at precisely 2:00 PM. The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Jim offered Mr. Claxton a chair, and William obliged him by sitting down in the overstuffed chair in front of Jim’s desk. Mr. Claxton began "Shall we get down to business?"

"By all means," replied Jim.

"Tell me about your invention," started Mr. Claxton.

"While it is a very complicated process, the invention can be described quite simply. It uses the properties of light to bend and twist it in such a way that we are able to view past events."

"It can look into the past?"

"It can. However, you can only view events that took place at the location in which you are viewing."

"I don't follow."

"Sorry. With my device, if I want to see what happened in my apartment two years ago, I can turn the device on here and see that. However, if I want to see what happened at your apartment two years ago, that cannot be done here. We would have to go to your apartment."

"So, you did not see the murder of Hanna Forsythe."

"I was not able to gain entry to that apartment, so I had to view events from the outside."

"That was enough to find the murderer?"

"Well, it gave them another lead that they did not originally have. When they followed that lead, they were able to gather much more evidence against him than they would have had they not suspected him."

"There is no precedence for use of your machine in law enforcement. Couldn't this pose a problem for future cases?" continued Mr. Claxton.

"Frankly, I wasn't thinking of my invention as a tool for law enforcement. In fact, it had never entered my mind. I was hoping my machine could be a research tool. It would be invaluable in finding about our history. With various versions of this glass, we have viewed events from long ago. However, there are likely limitations on how far back we can look."

"What have you looked into?"

"Our latest research was on the Kennedy assassination. We hope to publish our results next month."

"So, you were doing some law enforcement type research."

"I guess so... It could have several ramifications in law enforcement. If the government and the courts find it a valid and useful tool, I suppose I can support these actions. However, I do not want it to interfere with my own research."

"Is there an accuracy problem with this device?"

"Not as far as I have been able to detect," responded Dr. Millard. "We have made several tests with this regard. We have found no discrepancies."

"Of course, it will be up to the courts to decide the admissibility of evidence obtained though this method. This may take some time."

"I would assume that to be true."

"Have you contacted anyone to mass produce this device?"

"Quite frankly, that thought had never entered my mind."

"If we had one of our government contractors contact you about this very thing, would you be willing to allow that to happen?"

"Wow! I'd have to think about it, but I don't see any reason why I would object."

"This could be a great service to your country Dr. Millard. We are very interested in using this device in our law enforcement efforts," Mr. Claxton said as he arose.

"I'm glad you think so," replied Jim as he also got up from behind his desk.

Mr. Claxton gave a firm handshake to Jim and stated, "I'll have one of our contractors get in touch with you in a week or so. Think it over, and we'll be in touch."

"Thanks! I will," Dr. Millard said as he showed Mr. Claxton to the door.

After Mr. Claxton was gone, Jim sat back down behind his desk. His head was swimming with all of the possibilities of having the glass be used in daily police investigations. He could hardly believe it, and he sat behind his desk with a big smile for several more minutes.

After the euphoria wore off a bit, he got back to his regular duties. However, he felt he was on cloud nine for most of the day.

Jim did not know too many members of the faculty at the law school, but he could not think of a better place to go for advice. He asked several of the faculty that he did know, and they all recommended that he meet with contractual law professor Mortimer Kenisser. Dr. Kenisser had been teaching law for 35 years, and he was friendly with several members of faculty. He had been very active in university business and had made several acquaintances along the way. Moreover, he loved his job. He had several offers to become the dean of several law schools, but he was very content with his current position. He was popular with students and staff equally. Most importantly for Jim, he was willing to consult with him on this contract.

Jim, brief case in hand, walked into Dr. Kenisser’s office. The two men exchanged greetings. "Sit down Jim," Dr. Kenisser said, "I will be with you in a moment."

Jim sat in one of the over stuffed chairs in front of Dr. Kenisser’s desk. Dr. Kenisser was grading student papers, and while he finished grading a student’s paper, Jim just looked around the room. He could not help but notice how neat Dr. Kenisser kept his office. Everything seemed to have a place. Even the pile of ungraded papers was stacked neatly in a pile, which was right next to a neatly stacked pile of graded papers. The graded paper that Jim could see had numerous red ink marks on it. Dr Kenisser made all the marks neatly in the spaces of the double spaced student’s paper. Dr. Kenisser wrote a few last notes on the paper he was grading and sat it neatly on the graded stack. "Well," Dr. Kenisser begins, "I understand you have a contract that you would like me to look over."

"Yes, here it is," Jim replied as he took the contract out of his brief case. "I have never dealt with the government in this manner before."

"No reason you should," responded the professor. "Your invention must be very important. Normally, the government would not get involved. They would let the private sector take care of it. They obviously do not want this technology to get into the hands of just anybody."

"I suppose that is true, but I would still like to perform my research. Is that possible under this contract?" inquired Jim.

"There is no mention of existing experimental technology. It only mentions further construction of these experimental devices," responded Dr. Kenisser.

"Would I be able to construct any additional devices?" inquired Jim.

"Not under this contract. You would probably be able to negotiate that matter. You should also be aware that if you sign this contract, you would have to cooperate with the governmental contractor in the design and construction of these devices. This may detract from your research and possibly teaching responsibilities."

"I hadn’t thought of that," admitted Jim. "Does it say what type of work I would have to do?"

"It isn’t that specific. You would likely have to do some consulting. They would bring you design plans and the like, and have you look them over. This is usually how this is done," explained the knowledgeable professor.

"Would that type of thing be negotiable?" continued Jim.

"Yes and no," responded Dr. Kenisser. "You see, the university has all rights to your research. The only way you can be rewarded for your efforts would be to act as a consultant. Otherwise, the university would be the only benefactor of this contract. This is a often used loop hole in the standard university contract. I suggest that you take advantage of this."

"Money is of little importance, but they probably would not be able to construct any useful device without me," inserted Jim. "Patents are one thing, but to actually know exactly how to put something together is quite different. Do you have any further recommendations?"

"No it is pretty standard. If you would like to construct additional devices, you should amend this contract. Otherwise, there is not anything out of the ordinary. The university and your department will do very well under this contract."

"I greatly appreciate your time," Jim said.

The two men shook hands, and Jim thanked Dr. Kenisser again. He placed the contract in his brief case and headed back to his office.

The government contractor who gave him the contract had said he has had several university professors work with his company. Thus, this would not be a new experience for them. The contractor was true to his word, and the contract was standard for this type of work. In addition, the university and his department would be compensated for Jim’s work. Thus, it appeared to be a win for everyone.

However, Jim did not like the fact that he could only work with his current designed time viewing device. How could he make improvements if I could not build new devices? "Ugh! I should have asked Dr. Kenisser about that," John grumbled to himself.

Everything was indicating that he should sign the contract. After all, what was the worst thing that could happen? He would always have his current device, and he could continue to do his current research projects.

Try as he might, Jim could not negotiate additional devices. The government was not interested in him competing with their production. They would not allow him to make additional machines. Furthermore, they did not even want him to make improvements on his existing machine.

The contractor reminded Dr. Millard that they could make the devices without him. The University owned the patent, and they were including him as a courtesy. They were interested in his expertise, but beyond that, the engineering team could manufacture the time viewing lenses without him. In fact, they could arrange with the university to sue him for copyright infringement if it came down to that.

Signing the contract gave Dr. James Millard an uneasy feeling. While he could see that it would be a useful device in law enforcement, but how else was it going to be used? Apart from solving crimes, did the government have other ideas in mind? He suddenly felt like a conspiracy theorist. However, try as he might he could not shake the ominous feelings that came over him.

Reluctantly, he signed the contract. The government contractor quickly began fabricating prototypes. They intended on mounting the device on video cameras. Thus, they could obtain video of the crimes and any other relevant events they needed. Hence, even if the video would not be admissible in court, they would have a reference. That is, they would know who did it and how. Therefore, they would only need to gather the incriminating evidence.

Jim realized that getting away with crimes was going to be a great deal more difficult once these devices made their way to police departments. He comforted himself that this was a good thing.

After months of consultation, the prototypes were tested. Naturally, they worked exactly as expected. However, the contractor continuously asked Jim for his version. Jim naturally refused. If this was the only device he would ever have, he was going to protect it. He thought that it was strange that they asked for it in the first place.

Eventually, production began and the FBI obtained the devices in large numbers. Long unsolved crimes were finally being resolved. Lots of good was happening because of the time viewing lenses. Still the government contractors asked for Jim's version. Still he refused.

Long-standing controversies were slowly being settled. President Kennedy's assassination, President Garfield's assassination, and the FBI checked a long list of other high profile killings. With each successful case, the government was more convinced that it was a very useful tool. Still the contractors asked for Jim's version, and he still refused.

Dr. Millard was getting increasingly concerned with the request for his device. Contractually, they had no right to it. Jim had never used the device for any purpose other than research. He could not figure out why they wanted to see it.

"Their devices work fine," Jim often mumbled to himself. "What is it about my device?"

Law enforcement agencies were succeeding in convicting criminals at an amazing rate. Unsolved crimes were becoming a thing of the past. Police would take the device into a crime scene and know exactly what happened. The admissibility in court of the videos taken by these devices was beginning to take shape. Still the government asked for his version, and still Jim refused.

Every day Jim felt that he was being followed. He believed the government knew his every move. He felt more paranoid than anyone was. "Just because I'm paranoid," Jim joked with himself. "That does not mean that I am not being followed."

One day, Jim returned to his office to find it strange. He looked around and did not find anything missing. He checked everything twice, and it appeared to be normal. However, he felt something was different. Perhaps it was paranoia, be something was wrong with his office. He triple checked, but nothing was missing.

Jim sat at his desk and returned to his task of determining his next project with the device. If he could get enough power through it, and get it cold enough, perhaps he could see dinosaurs. Maybe it was time to put the device to its limits. "If I destroy the device," Jim thought, "perhaps they would leave me alone."

Jim wandered off in thought and was startled when a knock came on his door. "Come in," he said reflexively.

A beautiful young woman walked through the door. "Are you Dr. James Millard?" she asked.

"I'm Dr. Millard," he responded.

"I'm Candice Millwood, and I've heard a lot of good things about you," she said flirtatiously.

"Listen Miss..."

"Please call me Candy!" the gorgeous young woman said with a wink.

"Listen Miss Millwood, I've got a lot of work to do."

"I heard you had a time machine!"

"Rumors miss, just rumors."

"I would love to see it!"

"Wouldn't we all love to see it? Perhaps the government has one it could loan you."

"The government's version is top secret. You have to be a cop. However, your device is just locked up somewhere."

"You know an awful lot about this..."

"I just want to see it," Candy said with a pout.

"You said yourself, it is top secret. If I had such a device, it would be my hide if I showed it to anyone without clearance."

"Pwease..."

"Oh Man! That is rich! Tell your boss that if he thinks some young Mata Hari can wink and capture me under her spell..."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You may leave my office now Miss Milkweed."

"That's Millwood!"

"I have no time machine, so you're wasting your time and mine."

"But..."

"I said 'Good Day!'"

Candy turned and left with a pout. Jim felt he passed that test. Then a realization came to him, "I hope they don't think I'm gay now!"

Over the next couple of weeks, Jim would enter a room and feel that it was wrong. It was not every room he entered. It was just a room here and there that felt wrong. He was beginning to chalk it up to paranoia, when he went to check on his device.

There was Candy and an enormous mountain of a man. "Good evening Dr. Millard."

"Hello?"

"We come for the time lens," said the mountain.

"If you take the lens, the government will know who has it. They have hundreds of them!"

"Come on Dr. Millard," pleaded Candy still playing the tart. "Couldn't you play ball just once?"

"I could have the police here in five minutes," explained Jim.

"It wouldn't do any good," explained the mountain. "I'm special agent Maxwell. Stuart Maxwell. I believe you have met special agent Millwood."

"Charmed I'm sure," flirted Candy.

"Stuart?"

"You got something against Stuart?"

"I took you for ... a Steel ... or a Stone ... or something."

"They call me Moose!"

"That makes sense."

"So, are you going to give us the device or not?" asked Moose.

"Could I see some credentials? I've seen hers."

"Here is my badge," Moose said as he showed Jim his credentials.

"Very good," replied Jim. "Now, let me see your warrant."

"Warrant?" inquired Candy.

"Yes my dear," replied Jim with a lilt in his voice. "There is this thing called a constitution. It is the law of the land here in the United States."

"Don't get smart!" threatened Moose.

"Well you see, this constitution specifically states that I have the right against unreasonable searches and seizures. It's the fourth amendment."

"So what are you saying?" inquired Moose.

"I'm saying, unless you have a warrant -- obtained because you have some 'probable cause' to do so -- you are not going to see or obtain my device."

"We have ways of making you!" threatened Moose.

"In this day and age of time viewing devices, someone will pay highly for you making me give you the device. So, unless you want to answer to the founding fathers, I suggest you leave."

"Come on Moose," whined Candy. "You know Jimmy boy, I could make you very happy -- for a little while anyway."

"It's Dr. Millard to you!"

When the two agents left, Jim felt himself shaking. He just stood up to a mountain of a man. He did not know if the constitution frightened him off, or if he was just there to be frightening. In any event, it was another test passed. He still had his device. However, he did not know how long he could keep it up.

After a couple of days, Candy was back in Jim's office. "What do you want now Special Agent Millwood?"

"My boss is really mad," she sobbed.

"Spare me the act."

"Well, I tried. He is mad, and he is right here. This is Director Richards."

"Director," Dr. Millard said curtly. "What can I do for you?"

"Let me get to the point of my visit," started the director.

"I wish you would," responded Jim.

"You have a top secret device in your possession. We are very uncomfortable with this arrangement. We would like it very much if you voluntarily gave up the device."

"With all due respect, I have a signed contract that entitles me to retain my device. I expressly indicated that I wish to continue my research. This would be impossible without my device."

"I appreciate that, but if this device were to get into the wrong hands..."

"Sir, do I need to quote the fourth amendment to the US Constitution?"

"Information is our business Dr. Millard. Your device has become an essential tool in the gathering of that information."

"Information is also my business Director Richards. My device is an essential tool for my gathering of that information. Without it, I cannot continue on my research. I have already given up researching ways to improve it. I did that at the government's insistence. I do not plan on giving up any further research opportunities."

"Do not force us to take drastic measures."

"More drastic than you already have?"

"Much more drastic."

"Sir, this time viewing lens has been used to solve crimes all over the country. There are no more unsolved crimes. Thus, if you are threatening me, let me assure you that you will be caught and punished."

"I guess we are finished then."

"We are indeed. It was nice seeing you again special agent Millwood. Take care of yourself."

"Gee thanks," giggled Candy.

Jim wondered if the femme fatale act was way to ingrained in agent Millwood as the two left his office. She was a natural.

A few days later, Jim's father called him. "Jim, who is this Director Richards person?"

"Did he come to see you?"

"No, just a cute young thing named Candy. She asked me to tell you that Director Richards has many ways to get what he wants."

"Oh no!" grumbled Jim in disbelief.

"She was really cute! Any sparks?"

"Dad! her group wants me to give up my research!"

"Then give it up."

"You don't understand."

"I gave up a lot for your mother."

"Dad, she is not interested in me."

"That is not what she told me."

"Does she have some sort of hypno-ray that I'm immune to?"

"What nonsense are you talking now son?"

"Nothing! Dad, she is a government agent who wants me to give up everything I've worked my whole life on."

"So you'll find something else."

"Just like that?"

"Sure! Your priorities change when you get married."

"You're not listening! She isn't interested in me at all."

"That is not what she told me."

"Yes, but you've seen too many movies. Don't be surprised if a mountain of a man shows up next."

"What movie is that?"

"Never mind. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Everything is good here."

"I'm glad," Jim said with a sigh. "I'll call you later."

"Okay son. I love you!"

"Yeah yeah! Later."

Perhaps his dad was right. Not about him settling down with Candy Millwood, but giving up his device. He could not do the research he really wanted. Perhaps it was time to take it to its limits and destroy the device. The subtle threat that they knew where his family lived was unnerving.

After a few more encounters with Agent Millwood, Jim decided what he was going to do. He set up the device in the bunker. He made a request for liquid Hydrogen. He thought about using liquid Helium, but he would not get enough superconductive benefit from the colder temperatures.

The real trick was going to be how much power the device could withstand. He was completely secretive about his entire project. Nobody knew what he was doing. If they asked, he would say 'It's top secret.' Most people knew he was involved in a top-secret project, so they inquired no further.

He recorded everything as it showed earlier and earlier events. One hundred years he saw the early days of the university. Two hundred years he saw the early days of statehood. He kept going back hundreds of years. He added more and more current to turn back the clock. With each step, he viewed farther back in time.

The liquid nitrogen and the heat generated by the current were fighting each other, but he continued. One thousand years and he saw the Native Americans as they once were. Two thousand years and he kept pushing the device.

The two elements began fighting in earnest. Jim was struggling to keep the superconductive material cold enough. He thought perhaps that he should have gone through the trouble of getting liquid Helium. He just kept adding more current and increasing the flow of liquid nitrogen. Farther and farther back, he recorded. He began recording a great deal of nothing. Plants and animals and their coming and going he would occasionally observe, but not much else.

Ten thousand years ago and he had not seen a much in the form of activity for quite some time. Twenty thousand years ago and he saw the effects of the ice age. Perhaps he would see a mastodon or mammoth. He kept pushing the device by adding more current and increasing the flow of liquid nitrogen.

As he went back he kept looking for ice age creatures, but he found that he was in an out of the way spot. The creatures would have to work hard to get to where he was working. Nevertheless, Jim kept pressing on until he heard a loud snap. He checked the viewfinder to see what he could. He checked his settings to see how far he was looking.

He stopped increasing the current, but he continued to hear a crackling noise. He increased the flow of liquid nitrogen to cool the apparatus, but it just went pop. Jim was recording regular time again. The glass had cracked and the experiment was over. '51,200 years' Jim noted in his notebook. "No dinosaurs," Jim complained to himself. "Still, it viewed before 50,000 BCE which is not too shabby!"

Candy made one of her regular visits, and Jim gave her the broken device. "It's yours," he told her.

"Why the change honey?" she flirted.

"I broke it," he explained.

"That is too bad, but Director Richards will be pleased."

"Perhaps. Say, why don't we go celebrate?"

"What you and me?"

"Let's just say your hypno-ray has finally worked on me."

"What?"

"Never mind! Do you want to go or not?"

After his day of travel, Marius Batiatus Pervalidus decided to go from the inn to the local thermae. A relaxing time in the public bath was exactly what he needed. His muscles would relax, and they would be prepared for the next day's travel.

"Greetings and salutations citizen," the proprietor said. "You have come alone? Do you wish to hire someone to watch your things? That service is available here."

"Certainly, what is the fee?"

"You can arrange that with the attendant," the proprietor stated as he waved his hand towards a snoozing slave. "You are new here..."

"I'm on my way to Rome. I am just passing through."

"Very well, the attendant..." he began. He walked over to the individual, who was assigned to attend to a visitor's things, and poked him. He scolded him quietly, and returned to speak to Pervalidus. "As I was saying, this attendant will give you the layout of the bath. If you have any questions you can ask him or if I'm available..."

"Is he trustworthy?"

"Don't mind his sleeping ways," he said when he suddenly looked at the young man. "He knows he will not get paid if he does not do his job!"

"I'll be alert," injected the attendant.

"Very well, here is your fee my good proprietor. I will begin in the tepidarium and then I wish to visit a masseur. Can that be arranged now?"

"Yes, a masseur will be available at your convenience," replied the proprietor. "The apodyterium is that way. This slave will follow and watch your things after you change there. The far door of that room leads to the tepidarium, but the warmth would tell you that. Bene Lave!"

After a good soak in the warm bath, the former gladiator enjoyed a good oiling and scraping from the masseur. In his usual manner, he returned to the tepidarium for another soak. This bath was warmer than the baths near his home, but it was still relaxing. He did not linger in the caldarium, as it was too hot for his liking. He was grateful when he reached the much cooler frigidarium. However, he did go between the rooms his customary four times.

"The caldarium is a bit too hot today," a gentleman said interrupting Pervaliduss personal thoughts.

"It is definitely hotter than my liking," Pervalidus replied.

"My name is Cassius Laurentius Silvanus."

"Greetings, I am Marius Batiatus Pervalidus."

"Are you a traveler?"

"Aye! I am heading to Rome. I have a gift of six horses for Dictator Caesar. I had hoped to make it to Rome before the Ides of March, but there have been delays. I hope to get there before he heads to Parthia, gods willing!"

"Caesar is not likely to head to Parthia until next month. You should make it without difficulty."

"Traveling in this day and age can sometimes be troublesome."

"I heard you there. I hope order will be restored with what Caesar is doing. However, I fear that he is more interested in wars and personal glory than with Rome."

"It is difficult to predict."

"The armies are mostly mobilized outside of Rome leaving us vulnerable. With Caesar going off to Parthia, he is continuing in that tradition."

"And what of the Republic...?"

"The Senate is much more concerned about retaining the status quo than making life beneficial to the Roman citizens."

"Perhaps..."

"Horses huh?" started Laurentius changing the subject.

"Neptune has been good to me."

"You must be a successful member of the Equestrian Order to be able to afford to give away six horses."

"The Caesars have been good to me. I obtained much wealth when Gaius Julius Caesar became Pontifex Maximus. It is just my way of repaying his patronage."

"Personally, I think the Senate can still cause trouble for Dictator Caesar. If he lets his guard down, I would not put anything past the senators. They can cause trouble at any level. If they do cause trouble, what happens then? Do we go back to the way it was? Who would rule if Caesar dies? His grand nephew Gauis Octavinus Thurinus or whatever he calls himself."

"He is a blood relation."

"But he has no experience. He has fought in one battle with his great uncle Julius, but has not held any office. If there is trouble in Rome, do we hand ruling to him? On the other hand, would it be better than our current corrupt senate?"

"Do you have anyone else in mind?"

"Marcus Antonius is too ambitious. Marcus Aemilius Lepidus is weak. Perhaps the three of them will form a triumvirate. That would balance things a bit."

"Let us hope is does not come to that."

"Yes, there is trouble enough. We do not need more civil unrest."

"That is true. It is still difficult to travel along the roads to Rome.

"Truer words have never been spoken"

"I grow weary of this talk of politics."

"I am sorry. Sometimes I can get worked up with the state of the Republic. I have heard of troubles on the road. Yesterday, a man ended his days ride here. He spoke of a fight in an inn. Perhaps you know of the fight."

"Perhaps..."

"A gladiator, now freeman, had just left the baths of that town and headed to the local inn. Once in the inn he was confronted by a man with thirty men."

"Thirty? It certainly could not have been more than a dozen."

"Are you telling the tale or am I?"

"Forgive me. Please continue."

"The man was a strong supporter of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus. He was upset that more people did not come to the great general's aid. Naturally, when Pompey the great was defeated, he lost everything. He was now on the run. The former gladiator refused to join, and now this former magistrate wanted revenge. Does this story sound familiar?"

"Some of the details have a ring of familiarity, but please, tell the story."

As I was saying, the former magistrate and soldier with his thirty men surprised the unaware freeman as he returned to the inn from the bath. Upon seeing the enormous man, several men ran away with fear by the sheer size of the man. As I hear it, the man was at least seven feet tall.

The former magistrate began telling his story of woe. He explained his loss of wealth and station when Ptolemy XIII murdered him in Egypt. He exclaimed that if the freed gladiator had come to his aid, the outcome would be very different.

The freeman explained that he had enough of fighting. When he had killed the six men on the road at there first meeting, it was in self-defense. As a gladiator and now as a freeman, he had killed many men, and he grew weary of fighting. He wished to spill no more blood.

With the story of single handedly killing six men, even more of the former magistrate's men deserted him. It was clear to many of them that the fight was a fool's errand.

Nevertheless, the man was facing twelve or more men, and he was unarmed. Some of the men balked at killing an unarmed man; thus, the former magistrate threw him a short sword. "Prepare to die freedman!" the magistrate yelled.

Calmly the freeman replied, "You know my weapon was the trident and not the sword."

The freeman tossed the weapon away. Being a traveler, he had a beautiful walking staff. It had the head of a horse intricately carved at the top. The other end had a bronze tip worn down a bit from much walking. The former gladiator was going to use the staff to defend himself against the Roman swords. The twelve men attempted to surround him, but he backed himself towards a corner of the inn's great room.

"This is your last warning magistrate," the freeman said softly. "You can go peacefully on your way, or you can feed the ravens."

"You are no match for..." started the angry magistrate.

Before he could finish his sentence, with the horse head end of the staff, the gladiator hooked the arm of one of the men who had his hand on the hilt of his sword. With a quick pull, the soldier was off balance. A startled accomplice lurched backward in an attempt to avoid the falling man. He caught the brass tipped end of walking staff in the side of the face.

The two stumbling men had crossed directly in front of the freemen providing him with a brief guard against any further attack. With a quick twirl of the staff, he took hooked the ankle of the stumbling man and gave a yank. This made the former soldier crash to the floor.

By pulling on the ankle, his staff was high in the air, and he brought it crashing down on the head of the second man. He fell with a groan onto the first man.

As each of the men within reach attempted to draw their swords, they received a sharp blow from the staff. The freemen hit knee, hand, and elbow of the closest men, which prevented them from readying their swords. Some men farther away from the freemen were able to draw their swords. With their drawn swords, they were attempting to work their way to make their blows.

One of the men with his sword above his head made a rush at the traveler. Again using the horse head as a hook, the former gladiator hooked the wrist of the charging soldier and pulled the man forward. This distracted the charging soldier enough to cause him to trip over the two bodies between him and the gladiator. Being steered to a degree by the gladiator, he went face first into the wall. His helmet pushed down onto the bridge of his nose and blood began to flow from his nose.

Still hooked to the wrist of the now bloody soldier, the gladiator lifted his staff twisting the arm of the soldier with the now bloodied nose, causing him to drop his sword. Simultaneously, he caught the former magistrate in the mouth with the end of the staff.

The first soldier was trying to push the unconscious second soldier off him to get off the floor. However, before he was able to do so, another pull on the staff from the gladiator and the bloodied nose soldier was on the pile with the other two men. With a backhanded swing of his staff, the gladiator hit the bloodied nose again and rendered the soldier unconscious.

In a brief exchange, the freeman created a very good defensive situation. He had two walls of the inn to protect his back, and there were three men lying on the floor providing some protection from the front.

"Men! Men!" shouted the magistrate from his bloodied mouth. "We need a coordinated attack! Stop acting individually!"

The magistrate and his men backed away from the freeman. They got out of range of his staff, and got together to form a plan. At this point, all the men drew their swords.

"None of your men are seriously hurt," the former gladiator said calmly. "It is not too late to go in peace."

"Quiet slave!" shouted the magistrate.

He quietly gave orders to his men as they prepared to fight the gladiator who did not want to give up his defensive position. The soldiers grabbed their tower shields. With their swords at the ready, they began getting into a defensive line. They lined up shoulder to shoulder with the shields on their left and their swords on the right and at the ready for thrusting.

The men on the floor began to regain consciousness. The first man was still attempting to push the men off him with little success. However, the two men on him were beginning to stir.

The line of men with the magistrate behind began to close in on the traveler armed only with his staff. This was a very small version of a legion encounter. It had been a successful strategy for several centuries, and the freed gladiator would have to find a way to defeat it.

As the "Legion Line" approached, the former gladiator did not wait for them to engage. He jumped upon the pile of three men, and using the horse head once again, hooked the top of one man's shield. The men did not break their ranks; however, the gladiator leaned back from his place and began pulling that soldier's shield down.

That soldier struggled against the pulling weight of the gladiator. Eventually, the gladiator's weight became too much for him to hold, and he went crashing into the pile of men. This also caused the gladiator to lose his balance as he tumbled backward off the fallen soldiers. He tumbled backward, unhooked his staff, and rolled to his feet in one smooth motion. In contrast, the soldier simple fell onto the pile of men.

The fallen man left a gap in the defensive line, which the gladiator used to hook one of the soldiers sword wielding arms. Putting all of his weight forward onto the staff, the hooked soldier could not keep his sword in its thrusting position. With another tug, the soldier stabbed one his fallen comrades in the leg and the blood began to flow from that wound. Immediately upon stabbing a fallen comrade, the soldier dropped his sword.

Another soldier seeing the abandoned sword broke ranks and reached for the weapon. With this, the former gladiator smacked him on the back of the head with his staff, which only managed to knock the helmet off the soldier.

The freed gladiator still had an excellent defensive position, as the line could not maintain discipline, and the magistrate called for a retreat. The pile of three soldiers was now four with a helmet and sword added in front. Furthermore, the pool of blood made the area in front of the pile of men slippery.

The stabbed soldier was writhing in pain and shifting his weight back and forth. Thus, he was making it difficult for the men under him from freeing themselves. However, the magistrate managed to re-form his lines and they began advancing. However, this time, they formed more of a wedge to be able to get closer to the gladiator in the corner. He also quietly gave orders to his men.

Once again, the freeman jumped upon the pile of men, and hooked the center soldier's shield. Expecting the same tactic, the flanking soldiers reinforced the grip of the center soldier. However, instead of pulling the shield, the gladiator pushed the staff into the face of the center soldier and smashed him in nose.

The shock and surprise of this action caused the entire line to lose balance. Most of the soldiers struggled to keep their feet. As they struggle to maintain balance, the gladiator picked out the soldier whose helmet he managed to remove. With the bronzed tip of his staff, he brought down a hard blow to the man's head. With a terrible crack, the man fell into a heap in front of the pile of men. Blood was spilling out his ear, and the blow rendered him unconscious.

Once again, the magistrate called to regroup his men. His tactic was not effective. The freed gladiator was taking advantage of his defensive position. He now had a pile of five men between himself and the seven remaining soldiers. He had the corners of the inn and a slippery floor also to his advantage.

"Magistrate," inquired the gladiator.

"What is it?" required the irritated magistrate.

"A couple of these men should see a healer immediately or they will certainly die."

"That is no concern of yours!"

"I suppose not, but you still have an opportunity to save the rest of your men."

"Your boasting will not aid you in battle, slave!"

"Boasting is for rich men, I speak from experience."

"He has downed five of our men," whispered a soldier.

"Quiet!" the magistrate reprimanded before continuing his conversation with the gladiator, "We are simply testing for your weakness."

"How is that going?" he asked with a wry smile.

"Your impertinence will cost you dearly!"

"Your stubbornness has already cost you a great deal. You can still call this off and save these men."

"The gods have struck down men with greater skill than you because of their hubris."

"The gods know the true heart of men. They know that I have been trying not to kill your men. However, my patience is wearing thin."

"Your patience? I am seeking justice and you speak of impatience!"

"Justice is also for the wealthy, you seek vengeance."

"What benefit are these word games of yours slave?"

"I am simply attempting to save these men's lives."

"Now!" shouted the magistrate.

Upon the signal, two men rushed along the left side of the gladiator. With their swords at the ready, they were able to avoid the strike of the staff. With their surprise attack, they managed to get behind the pile of men on the floor. The remaining soldiers cleared a path for him to exit the inn.

Clearly, the magistrate wanted to flush him from his defensive position. The innkeeper gave the gladiator a pleading glance, and thus the gladiator left the inn, and the magistrate and six of his soldiers followed. The seventh man checked on the men and retrieved his sword. He requested the innkeeper send for a healer.

The crowd followed the last soldier out to view how the fight would progress. The thirty men were now down to eight. The gladiator was confidently waving his staff around. The soldiers were sizing him up to determine an attack strategy.

In the open, the gladiator no longer had two walls protecting his flanks. The soldiers would be able to attack from any side. The magistrate was orchestrating his men to surround the freed slave. Once the soldiers surrounded the gladiator, they could attack from any angle and several at a time. This was going to be a tougher challenge for the experienced fighter.

"We now can have a fair fight!" shouted the magistrate.

"Eight against one, real fair," mumbled the former gladiator.

"What?" asked the magistrate.

"It was not important," stated the gladiator with a little more volume.

"It is now for your lesson slave!"

"It is not too late for you to go your own way!"

"Such bravado! It is time for you to pay."

The magistrate called the name of two men on opposite sides of circle surrounding the former gladiator. The two men, with their swords drawn and their shields at the ready, approached the gladiator in the middle. The two men used their shields to block any blows by the staff of the freeman. They closed in and attempted to thrust their short swords into their target. The gladiator easily parried the blows.

The magistrate recalled the two men to take their position in the circle, and called two more names. These two men used the same tactic. Blocked with their shields and attempted to get a blow against the gladiator. When they were also unsuccessful, they magistrate recalled them and two more men made their attack.

After a few minutes, the pace picked up as the attackers knew their job. They would rush in and try to strike. This forced the gladiator to block against their attack. Eventually, the magistrate sent three in from different sides of the circle surrounding the gladiator. Back and forth the soldiers would go. The men around the circle would prevent the gladiator from making a break. They were methodically testing the skill of the former gladiator and hoping he would make a mistake along the way.

All the while, the magistrate stood outside of the circle barking orders. He directed traffic to make sure the gladiator would remain in the circle. He also called names to give each man enough time to rest between attacks. He chuckled to himself that his plot would certainly work, as the gladiator could not keep up the defense forever. At some point, he would tire and make a mistake. At that point, they would have him.

The gladiator took each attack seriously, but attempted to conserve energy. He quickly learned the plan of the magistrate. He needed to find a solution to his situation, so he would use each attack to learn the weaknesses and strength of each attacker. When the time was right, he would make his move.

The group had been fighting for a while, and the hot sun was beginning to take its toll on everyone. However, it was mostly wearing out the gladiator, as he did not get occasional breaks. He knew he would need to make his move soon. However, what was that move going to be?

"How are you doing?" asked the magistrate with a big smile on his face.

"I'll be warmed up shortly," replied the gladiator.

"I'll help speed up the process," the magistrate added as he sent in four men this time.

That was the moment that the gladiator made his move. He rushed the weakest soldier. The soldier in an effort to protect himself planted his shield on the ground and cowered behind it. The gladiator planted his staff on the ground and vaulted into the shield with his feet.

The force of the blow caused the soldier to fall backwards with his shield on top of him. The gladiator used his momentum to run on top of the shield with the helpless soldier beneath and rush towards the magistrate.

This move caught the magistrate by surprise, and barely had his sword drawn by the time the gladiator was in range. The gladiator did a roll to make an attack of the magistrate's legs. The magistrate bent down to parry the blow, and the gladiator with a quick poke with his staff removed the magistrate's helmet. In addition, with the momentum of his roll, the gladiator put the magistrate between him and the remaining seven soldiers.

He also managed to kick the helmet out of reach of the magistrate during his maneuver. With that, the magistrate tossed his shield aside too. He waved his arms indicating that his soldiers were to stay back.

"Alright slave it is just me and you now," challenged the magistrate.

"It is not to late..."

"Save it slave! I can handle you," the magistrate stated as he passed his short sword from his right hand to his left and back again.

The gladiator shook his head and waved for the magistrate to make his attack. The magistrate rushed at the gladiator with a feeble yell. He hacked at the gladiator with his Roman short sword, and the gladiator easily stepped out of the way of the blow. The magistrate was off balance and the gladiator pushed him down with a push of his foot. He shook his head as the magistrate scrambled to his feet.

"All right slave," started the magistrate. "You die now!"

The gladiator hooked the elbow of the magistrate as he lifted it above his head and began his swing. Using the head of his staff, he gave it a twist. This caused the magistrate to nick the back of his scalp as he attempted to hit the gladiator with a downward swing.

This distracted the magistrate enough for the gladiator to use his staff to push the sword into the chest of the charging magistrate. The sword penetrated the armor of the charging combatant and he fell in a heap.

The shocked soldiers looked at each other trying to decide what to do. One of the men started to charge, but was grabbed by another. The shoulder shook his head and said that the battle was over.

The freed gladiator checked the magistrate, and he was indeed dead. Three men inside the inn were also dead. One died of the stab wound inflicted by one of the soldiers, and the other two could not breathe under the stack of men.

"The conflict ended as quickly as it had begun," continued the storyteller Cassius Laurentius Silvanus. "With four men dead, the gladiator would have to answer to the authorities. However, he is unlikely to have to answer for those deaths. He faced thirty men, killed four, and walked away. If he continues on to Rome, he will likely pass through this town within the next couple of days."

"While meeting a seven foot tall man who could defeat 30 men would be quite a wonder," replied Pervalidus. "I would like to finish my journey. If you meet him, please pass my greeting to him."

"I shall my friend. I am sure I will be able to recognize that gladiator when I spot him. How could anyone not?"

"Indeed. I shall be retiring to my room now. Thank you for your story."

"Until we meet again," replied Cassius.

Pervalidus finished his time at the bath and paid the fees due. He retired to the inn after a good meal. It was the Ides of March, and he would be in Rome late the next day. The gift for Caesar would be helpful for his fight in Parthia. Once he reclined in his room, Pervalidus felt sleep wash quickly over him. It had been a long trip so far.

"Dead?" enquired former gladiator, Pervalidus. "What happened?"

"Caesar was assassinated by the Senate in the Hall of Pompey," a town official answered.

"Why did not his friend Marcus Junius Brutus stop the plot?"

"He was in on it."

"You to Brutus?" Pervalidus said under his breath.

"There were probably sixty involved. Caesar suffered a great many stab wounds. The Senate did not wish to give up their power."

"Certainly they did not think this through. A group of sixty cannot fend off Consul Marc Antony and his men."

"The sixty are to meet with Marc Antony tomorrow. They will probably make a deal with Marc Antony and go unpunished. You know how these things go."

"The gods will see to justice."

"True words friend. Rumor has it that Caesar left every resident of Rome a large sum of money. They will be hard pressed to keep the outrage from overflowing at the funeral pyre on the 20th."

"What other words from his testament?"

"He probably gave some land to the city for a park. I have not heard any real specifics other than the money."

"Thank you friend."

"Were you a friend of Caesars?"

"I obtained much wealth when he was Pontifex Maximus, I just wished to congratulate him for his victory with a gift."

"You should pay your respects at the funeral."

"Perhaps I will."

The former gladiator silently paid his respects to Gaius Julius Caesar as the crowd erupted with fury. The angry citizens chased the conspirators out of town. However, Pervalidus did not join them. The civil war was not over. More bloodshed was ahead of Rome. He thanked the gods for everything he had and left town with his horses.

He did not know Marc Antony. The speech he gave at the funeral was a shrewd move. Antony appeared to be playing both sides. He appeased the Senators with one move, and turned the crowd against them in the next. "He may be the next dictator," thought Pervalidus. "I wonder what Gaius Octavius will do..."

As Pervalidus returned home, he heard many rumors of the events in Rome. Some people supported what the Senate had done, and some wanted Rome to be at peace. There was much anxiety about the future. Everyone seemed to agree, the fighting was not over.

A few days before he reached his estate, three bandits attempted to rob him. He attempted to scare them away, but they were too desperate. Thus, they insisted on fighting him.

"Three more dead men," prayed the former gladiator to his patron god Neptune. "When will the killing stop? I thought that by paying for my freedom, my fighting days would be over. Does the fighting never end?"

He finally reached his estate and embraced his wife.

"Why the sad face?" she asked.

"The civil war continues," Pervalidus replied.

"We will be fine. With fighting, comes the need for horses."

"I'm not worried that."

"Then what is it?"

"I received an omen on the road."

"What?"

"All my life I have fought. I have fought for and against Romans. I have killed scores of men. I have never gone very long without killing a man. On this short trip to Rome I killed seven men."

"What?"

"Our former magistrate caught up to me at an inn. He would not let me go unless we fought. I killed him and three of his men."

"Thank the gods you were not hurt."

"It was difficult not to kill more of his men."

"How many were there?"

"I do not remember -- seven or eight -- I did not count them."

"I did hear a rumor about a giant taking on one hundred..."

"Okay, it was twelve men. I had a good defensive position."

"Neptune has granted you great skills to take on so many."

"I have thanked him at every turn. I am very grateful. Needless to say, Mars keeps testing those skills."

"Oh yes -- the omen -- please continue."

"After learning the news of Caesar, I stayed quiet in Rome. A mob formed at the funeral and still I resisted the fight. However, on my way home three bandits attacked me. Nothing I said or did frightened them. They would not leave me. Thus, I left them dead beside the road. As I gave thanks to Neptune, a wolf came and scavenged on one of the corpses. It was Mars. He wants me to join Gaius Octavius in the upcoming battles."

"There is going to be war?"

"A civil war has been ongoing for quite some time. I have stayed out. I have not taken sides, but my fighting will never cease unless I do this."

"What of your family?"

"My dearest, I am getting up in age. I cannot continue in fighting three, four, five, or more at a time. I must take a stand now and fight for peace. I am sure that is what we will get in a united Rome. Marc Antony is not to be trusted. He is ambitious and will say and do anything. Only Octavius can bring peace to Rome."

"As you wish. I cannot argue with the gods."

"Octavius is recruiting a force in Apollonia. I will join him there. We will march on Rome."

"Marius Batiatus Pervalidus?" queried Gaius Octavius. "You seem familiar to me."

"I get that a lot," replied Pervalidus.

"I remember a giant of a man who was a gladiator from Lentulus Batiatus's gladiator school. At a festival once, the venue called for him to fight a child of 11 or 12. I was only a few years shy of that age myself at the time. He tried his best to make it look like a match, but the kid was too green."

"I remember that all too well."

"You were Validus Maximus? I thought you were taller..."

"I get that a lot also."

"It must be the eyes of youth. Everything from my young days seems smaller now."

"Indeed."

"You were put up against a child in that match!"

"That episode caused me much trouble."

"The kid could barely hold a sword. He swung it at you, and it went flying. You allowed him to retrieve it. After futilely attempting to make the match look good, you swept him up in your net. You threw your trident into the ground, which pinned the child in your net. Then you walked off."

"The patron obviously wished this child dead," added the former gladiator. "I did not oblige him. He should have just fed him to some exotic beast."

"I will bet that episode cost you."

"His next festival featured me against three men..."

"Three? You are here to tell the story, so you are clearly a competent fighter. It is a useful skill in such dangerous times. I heard that a group of two dozen bandits was attacking travelers near here."

"Two dozen?"

"Well, that is what I heard. In any event, fortunately for future travelers they ran into this enormous man.... Anyway, this man managed to single handedly kill six of them including their leader. I understand it was quite a fight. All the man had as a weapon was some sort of walking stick with a horse head carved into it. In any event, after killing some of the men, the rest of them ran off. Knowing this man is still out there should scare any bandits from wantonly attacking travelers in these parts."

"Let us hope so."

"Let us get back to the matter at hand. With you and about 3,000 veteran soldiers from Gaius Julius Caesar's army, we will march on Rome. I will claim what is mine, and I will punish those responsible for my adopted father's assassination. The group of us will make great names for ourselves."

"No sir. Leaders are remembered in the histories. We fighters rarely find our names in the annals of time."

"You have proven yourself on many occasions. Your sword will be useful."

"Neigh sir! I shall use a spear. It is closer to my weapon of choice."

"No matter -- all shall remember your name. Marius Batiatus Pervalidus will be of much renown."

"I will not argue the matter with you. I am getting up in age, and I was renowned for my time. Vadilus Maximus seems like a lifetime ago. I tried to stop fighting, but the gods wish me to continue. I give you my spear and shield in service."

"I most humbly accept your invitation."

"The only thing is... Well, I have never killed more than twenty-eight men in one day...

"Twenty-eight is a good number. I'll ask the men to pick up some of the slack."

"It has been two life-times ago since I fought under Spartacus in Legion fighting. I may only be good for 23 or 24..."

"All joking aside, let us hope that it does not come to that. I ask only for Marc Antony to give me what Caesar placed in his will."

"He has great ambition."

"He is playing the politician quite well. He has appeased the senate, and incited the people."

"Marc Antony is playing both sides quite well."

"Our march on Rome will show the people that we mean business. We will not reward murderers with governorships. Crimes should be punished."

"What if Marc Antony puts up a fight?"

"I know what are in Julius's papers. He left me a great legacy. Antony cannot deny my rights without losing a lot of political capital."

"It will be war. A man does not willingly give up the power that he wields."

"We can defeat him. We have a well-disciplined army who were loyal to Julius Caesar. They do not like how his murderers got away with their actions. They will fight hard to avenge his death. Antony's army has little motivation. That alone will tip the balance in our favor."

"It is quite the feat that they are willing to follow you at such a young age."

"While it is true that I am in my 18th year, I wave the banner of a cause."

"I agree that the fight is just. That is why I am joining you. I owe much to Caesar and the gods wish me to fight. I believe you will be an excellent leader in battle and in matters of state. I just wish there was a better way."

"I have not found such a way."

"That is why we march on Rome."

"It is indeed. You should rest now equestrian. We need your spear to be sharp and ready when we begin our march. Antony will not allow a fight in Rome, but I am sure a fight will occur. We all need to be ready."

"We shall be victorious!"

"I'll only expect 19 or 20 fallen at your hands."

"I will hold back for the sake of the others!"

"In the morrow then."

"Aye!"

"I’m getting old, Octavian," complained Marius Batiatus Pervalidus.

"You have been saying that for the last 13 years or so Validus," replied Gaius Octavius.

"It has been true these last several years. I am approaching my 50th year. Do you not think that is old?"

"You are still the most feared soldier in my army. They will write about you as they did Achilles"

"Are you suggesting I die in battle?"

"If you think it will boost your reputation; however, I would appreciate another performance like the one you put in at Naulochus against Sextus Pompey."

"I do not know if I have another day like that in me."

"I suppose 73 is a lot to ask for."

"73? You must have been using Marcus Aemilius Lepidus's count. I think he got tired of counting after 50. The true count is 78."

"A nice round 100 would solve any controversy."

"You are quite a funny man, consul"

"In any event, the upcoming sea battle at Actium should decide things."

"You said 'things would be decided' when the senate established the Triumvirate of Marc Antony, Lepidus, and yourself. In addition, when that Triumverate expired five years later, you repeated that things would be decided if it was renewed. They renewed it, and it has also run its five year course, and things are still not decided..."

"Is it my fault that Marc Antony is under the spell of that Egyptian Cleopatra? He has been totally unreasonable for quite some time. What options do we have?"

"You know quite well..."

"Have you forgotten the accolades you accumulated at Philippi?"

"While it is true that I killed many men to prevent Brutus's men from entering your tent before you could escape, the rumor has it that you escaped because of an omen. I am completely left out of the story."

"I will straighten out the story in due course."

"Only 53 men died at my hands that day, and we nearly lost the day. We would have -- if Brutus would have pressed the issue."

"It was Julius who said, 'Today the enemy would have won, if they had had a commander who was a winner.' It is fitting in this context as well."

"We did redeem ourselves several weeks later, and 64 Romans had to die at my hands to punish Brutus."

"Do you always count?"

"In order to give proper thanks to Neptune, it is important to know what was sacrificed."

"That is fair enough. Speaking of Neptune, Actium will be a naval encounter. You should be on the ship with Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa. Protect him as if he were me."

"Consul, I am nearly twice your age. There is no need treating me as a child. I will do my duty and kill anything that boards our ship. However, Agrippa's plan seems reasonable. Neptune willing, we should have the day."

The former gladiator stood on the deck of the Liburnian bireme with Admiral Agrippa. The orders were to stay away from the much larger quinquereme's of Marc Antony. Maneuverability was going to be their biggest asset in this fight. Further, if they were within range of the shore, the troops protecting Marc Antony's base, could bombard the sailing vessels with arrows and other weapons. Thus, they would attempt to keep Antony's forces between them and the shore.

After much maneuvering, Antony ordered his ships to engage Octavian's fleet and the battle was joined. The lighter and fully manned Liburnian vessels of Octavius and Agrippa began inflicting heavy losses upon the opposing fleet.

One of the ship commanders panicked and pulled most of the Egyptian fleet away. Agrippa guessed that Queen Cleopatra was on board one of the vessels. Thus, fearing for the life of the queen, the vessels disengaged from the battle. Once that arm of the fleet left, the remaining ships were soon routed.

The former gladiator did not even need to wield his spear. Not a single soldier boarded the commanding Bireme, and with the battle well in hand, his services were not needed. He was going to join the men in capturing the remaining soldiers, but Octavian ordered him to remain next to Agrippa.

A great victory party was held on the beach of Actium. With the destruction of the vessels, the victorious army constructed a great wall of defeat out of the bronze ramming heads of the destroyed fleet. The battle would continue, but there was much to rejoice about in this victory.

Antony's men were continually deserting him. His love left in mid-battle and he went after her. Thus, he left the battle in disarray. The navy of Octavian with its smaller more agile vessels defeated the much larger ships of Antony. The army would continue with its fight against Egypt, but for now they were rejoicing.

The civil war was over, and Marc Antony had been defeated. He and his lover Cleopatra had committed suicide. Any challenger to Julius Caesar's adopted son, now calling himself Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus Augustus, was eliminated. Politics in Rome was now different. The power in Rome was now concentrated in one man, Caesar Augustus. Thus, Marius Batiatus Pervalidus could return home.

As was his habit when traveling, he would visit the local public bath. These were the gathering places for Roman citizens. It was a place to exchange news and hear stories. As the former gladiator was relaxing, he overheard some men telling stories.

"I guess we now have a tyrant for life in Augustus," started one citizen.

"He is lucky to be in this position," replied another. " Marcus Junius Brutus had him to rights, if it was not for his dream. He escaped his tent before they could get to him."

"That is not what I heard," interrupted a third.

"Tell us," responded the men.

"Gaius Octavius, had a giant guarding his tent. The man was as wide as he was tall. He was an enormous man."

"Was he naked and painted blue like the Gauls?" asked one of the citizens.

"No this man was no barbarian. He was a freedman and a member of the Equestrian Order, although it is said he was formerly a gladiator. His name was Marius Batiatus Pervalidus."

"Batiatus? He was a freed gladiator all right," one man added.

"Pervalidus? I wonder if it was Validus Maximus... He was an enormous man that I saw fight at the games as a child."

"This could all be true," continued the storyteller. "He was armed with only a spear, but a master with the spear he was. When the alarm rang, Octavian's camp erupted in confusion. Brutus's forces completely surprised them. Octavian had to gather his things and go, but it would take some time. He asked Pervalidus to protect his retreat.

"Pervalidus being strong and true stood his ground. Whenever a soldier from the opposing side would get near the tent, Pervalidus would quickly defeat him. Soldier after soldier came and they all had the same fate. The Brutus's soldiers were stacking up pretty high as the mighty Pervalidus dispatched them one by one.

"Soon, they would come in small groups as more forces arrived at the camp. One, two, a dozen made no difference to Pervalidus. Every group ended the same way -- dead. His job was to protect the Consul, and that he did.

"He had been fighting for hours giving Octavian plenty of time to make his escape. He was beginning to tire and the men kept coming. Soon, he found himself surrounded by 30 soldiers. It looked like he had taken too long to make his own escape. However, before anyone could flinch, he killed three more and was gone.

"Brutus found the tent empty, but did not press the issue any further knowing that 153 of his men died at the hands of one man."

"It was just 53," injected the former gladiator.

"What?" asked the storyteller.

"Only 53 of Brutus's soldiers were killed by Pervalidus," returned Pervalidus.

"53 -- 153? Both are preposterous," interjected another citizen.

"The omen seems much more likely," included another.

"How do you know the number old timer?" inquired the storyteller.

"Let us just say that I am intimately familiar with the story and its subject."

"You were at Philippi?" asked one man.

"I did not know they let geezers into battle..." added another.

"They will let anyone willing to fight in the army," responded Pervalidus.

"The story is true!" a young man in the back of the room exclaimed. "My brother died at the hands of that freedman."

"So which is it citizen, 53 or 153?" asked the storyteller.

"The only number that matters to me is one," replied the man.

"I concede the point," responded Pervalidus. "I must prepare to continue my journey. Thank you all."

"Not so fast citizen," interrupted the young man. "What is your name?"

"My name is unimportant. I am here for a relaxing time -- not trouble."

"I say your name is Marius Batiatus Pervalidus!"

The group erupted with noise. "No he can't be," said one man.

"He would have to be bigger," stated another.

"He is way too old," added a third.

"Think about it kid," started the storyteller. "Caesar offered him a position in his newly created Praetorian Guards. Would he do that to an old man like this? I do not think he would."

"Listen to them citizen," added Pervalidus. "No one wants any trouble here."

"I know you're Pervalidus! My name is Tiberius Eprius Montanus, you killed my brother, prepare to die!"

"I am unarmed and naked Tiberius," replied Pervalidus. "Perhaps some other time..."

"You cannot stay in here forever -- Gaius," Tiberius said with hate. "We will meet outside whenever you are ready."

"Are you really Pervalidus?" asked one of the group.

"Were you really Validus Maxiums?" asked another.

"Is this true?" asked the storyteller.

"I suspect there is no reason to keep it hidden," responded a dejected Pervalidus. "It is true, I am the former gladiator known as Validus Maximus. My free name is Marius Batiatus Pervalidus. I did kill 53 men to give Caesar a chance to escape. One of them could have been a Montanus. Caesar offered me a position with the Praetorius, but I refused. I wish to live in peace with my wife and kids. I had hoped to be done fighting. I guess it is not to be the case."

"I thought he was taller," whispered one man.

"What are you going to do?" asked the storyteller.

"I will try to avoid the fight, but I will probably have to fight him."

"This I have to see!" exclaimed one man.

The room erupted in excitement and movement. The bath was quickly empty except for the former gladiator. Everyone at the bath rushed to gather his things and find a good spot to view the fight. Some even went to gather loved ones. The whole town was soon abuzz about the upcoming fight.

Pervalidus sat in the bath for a little while longer. Eventually, he gave a heavy sigh and went to gather his things. He slowly got dressed and reluctantly left the bath. A huge crowd had gathered and the young Tiberius was waiting. A huge roar erupted as the former gladiator entered the street.

The young Tiberius was wearing a helmet and was brandishing a sword. "Do you have a weapon old man?" he shouted to Pervalidus.

"My staff will serve me fine," responded Pervalidus. "We do not have to do this Tiberius."

"My name is Tiberius Eprius Montanus, you killed my brother, prepare to die!" he said as he slowly walked toward Pervalidus.

"I am sure your brother killed many friends of mine..." Pervalidus replied holding his ground.

"My name is Tiberius Eprius Montanus, you killed my brother, prepare to die!" he said as he continued to approach.

"Is there nothing that will prevent this?"

"It is what these people have gathered to see," he said looking around at the crowd.

The crowd cheered at the acknowledgement. The former gladiator stood there calmly with a frown on his face. Nothing he said was going to prevent the fight. He readied his staff and prepared for the fight.

Suddenly the young Tiberius gave a shout and charged Pervalidus. The young man rushed the waiting opponent and swung his sword as he neared. Pervalidus easily blocked the blow with his staff, and with a quick thrust from it, Tiberius was sprawled on the ground. The crowed roared at the first action.

Tiberius was stunned. His face was red. Perhaps it was because of embarrassment or perhaps it was because of fury. Once again he stated, "My name is Tiberius Eprius Montanus, you killed my brother, prepare to die."

"You are young and inexperienced young Montanus. It is not too late to stop this."

Tiberius got up and charged again. Pervalidus easily parried the blow, and once again, the young fighter was sprawled on the ground. Another cheer from the crowd erupted.

"Your death will not bring back your brother, and neither will mine," Pervalidus explained calmly. "You have your whole life ahead of you."

"I do not need your lecture freedman," responded Tiberius. "I will kill you."

"I do not..." started Pervalidus when another person emerged from the crowd wielding a sword. The two men rushed the former gladiator at the same time. When the two men were close to him, he hooked the sword of Tiberius with the horse head on his staff, and steered it into the new man's chest. The sword found its mark and the falling man wretched the sword from the young Montanus's hand. With the sword still in his chest, the new combatant fell to the ground. With a hop and a sweep of the staff, it found its target at the back of Tiberius's head. The young man fell on top of his compatriot and breathed his last breath.

The crowd was silent. What had happened? It was over too quickly. The two young men were motionless in the street. The former gladiator shook his head and walked to the inn.

"Welcome home dear!" greeted Bella Pervalidia.

"It is good to be home again," replied the former gladiator.

"Rome's civil war is over, and you and Octavian won!"

"He has taken to calling himself Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus Augustus."

"That is quite a name!"

"History will probably shorten it to something like Caesar Augustus, or some such trifling."

"We cannot control how the people of the future will view our culture. Thus, it is silly to worry about such things."

"You are right, wife. It was a long journey, and I am glad to be home."

"How was your journey?"

"The usual."

"I heard about the young men..."

"It was a shame. For some, they will take dishonor with revenge. Having a cohort attack me from behind was inexcusable."

"You handled the situation as best you could, I am sure."

"I would have liked to not kill the young man. His family has lost another to my hands. How many more will there be?"

"Wars and death bring suffering to many families. Each must handle it in their own way. Some seek vengeance, while others forgive. It is the way of people."

"Once again, you soothe me with your wise words woman!"

"Were there any other incidents on the road that I have not heard of -- yet."

"Ummm..."

"From your hesitation, I know. There is no use hiding the truth from me."

"When I allied myself with Octavian -- Caesar Augustus -- I was hoping that the gods would finally let the fighting end. I thought that I would live in peace. It is not to be as I am convinced that Mars likes to see me fight."

"It is one of your great skills."

"I am getting up in years, and I can tell my skills are diminishing. I will make a mistake some day, and where would that leave you dear Bella?"

"Worrying about the future will just make that inevitable day come sooner."

"I thank the gods for smiling upon me so! Neptune and Mars, I am at your service until I die."

"Quit stalling Pervalidus, out with the story!"

"As you wish," sighed the aging fighter to his wife. He leaned back and began to tell his story.

With the war over, there are pockets of displaced soldiers here and there. Some of them fought for Caesar and some against, but they do not know what to do with themselves. Some have returned to their homes, yet some still gather and cause trouble for travelers. I came across one of these small groups.

I was delayed by some innocent incident, and I had not arrived in a town. While it would have been a joy to stay at an inn, it appeared that I would not make it to a lodging place until quite late. Even though it was still early evening, I decided that I would travel no further on that day. I made camp beside the road and began fixing myself a small meal.

Up the road came this band of armored soldiers. I greeted them and offered to share my food with them. However, the leader was quite belligerent and he informed me that I must move along.

I smiled and told him that I had traveled a long way, and I had a long way yet to go. I explained that I was just resting, and that I would continue on my way after my meal.

The leader's eyes grew cold as I talked. He was not interested in my troubles and he explained to me that my words meant nothing to him. He stated quite clearly that if I did not pack up and leave immediately, there would be trouble.

Not wanting to cause problems, I complied with his words. Well -- I reluctantly complied -- and -- I may have grumbled a few words. I cannot recall what these words were.

The group's leader heard me grumble and asked me what I had said. I told him that I could not remember, but that it was not important. Then he said, "Do you know who I am?"

Naturally, I replied, "No."

"I am Marius Batiatus Pervalidus! I killed 173 men single handedly at the battle of Philippi."

In an effort to stifle my laughter, I let out some sort of sound that was my inept attempt to indicate surprise. After a long uncomfortable pause, I did something that I should not have. I said, "I thought you were taller."

He shot a look my way in an effort to intimidate me. I must have been more tired and irritable than I thought as I continued with, "Also, I heard it was only 53 men."

I barely was able to contain my chuckles. "This is a serious manner -- old man. I could kill you quickly without breaking a sweat," continued the leader of the group.

"Listen Citizen Pervalidus -- if that is your real name," I said with as much composure as I could muster. "You asked me to leave. I am going. You have no authority to make such demands, but I do not wish to make trouble. So, go on your way, and I will continue on my own."

"It is too late for that whoever you are! You will die now." he squeaked. I must have touched some nerve in him.

He drew his sword and waved his comrades away. As usual, I had my staff with me. The man charged and I placed the hook end of my staff on the edge of his blade just above the hand guard and stepped aside. With another quick step to the side and a jerk of the staff, I wretched the sword from his hand and it fell to the ground.

As he reached for it, I gave him a sharp smack on his back. He stood up sharply, and momentarily abandoned making an attempt to retrieve the weapon. His comrades were about to rush me, but he waved them off.

"I think I shall stay the night here after all," I taunted.

He asked for a weapon from another member of the group, and charged again. I used the same maneuver and disarmed him again.

"Just in case you were wondering," I stated confidently. "It was not a fluke that I easily disarmed you. However, this confrontation has made me weary. I may try something different next time."

He whispered some sort of instructions to his cohorts, and they encircled me. I managed to stay close to the swords as they made their way around. I thought they would certainly attempt to retrieve them.

Two men with swords drawn came from opposite ends and rushed at me. I quickly determined who the stronger fighter was, and concentrated on him and put my back to the unsure weaker fighter. I took one step towards the strong fighter, and put my staff on the bridge of his nose. I directed the force of this blow into the groin of the other fighter. The strong fighter lurched backward and the weak one bent forward.

I had clear access to the strong fighter's sword, so I hooked it, and took it away from him. It fell near the others as blood began to flow profusely from his nose. The doubled over fighter was still in his position when I pushed him backwards. In an effort to catch himself from falling, he waved his arms wildly, and forgot he was wielding a sword. I relieved him of the weapon easily enough.

I had enough fighting, and a deep seriousness fell upon me. I stood in my warrior stance and shouted. "I have had enough. I will take these swords, and you will leave me now. Or, I will be forced to dispatch all of you, for I am the real Marius Batiatus Pervalidus, Roman Slave - Gladiator - Freeman - Hero. Leave in peace, or become food for scavengers. It is your choice."

In the old days, that would have frightened half of them. However, when a man of my age uses such words, they have less impact. All eight of the men rushed me at once. Luckily, I had disarmed half of them and a few were somewhat hampered by afflictions.

I chose two men on opposite sides that both had swords. I used my old technique of steering one man's sword into the belly of another and giving a whack on the back of his head. The two men fell upon each other as I gave a poke with the bronzed tip to other attackers.

This gave me a chance to locate the armed men, and keep others from grabbing the abandoned swords. There were just two men with swords left. They were very tentative in their actions which gave me a big advantage.

I rushed one of the remaining armed men, swung wildly with the staff at his head, and gave a mighty roar. It was just a feint, and he reflectively tried to protect himself with his sword. I redirected the blow to hit his hand.

With all of the bones in his hand now broken, he could no longer hold onto the sword. The bloodied-nose man believing that I was vulnerable grabbed a sword from the ground and rushed me.

Little did he know that I had hooked the armor of the newly disarmed comrade with my staff. When he attempted his blow, I fell back. His comrade also tried to avoid the blow, but could not because I had him in my control. The sword lodged in the man's neck. While unhooking from the man's armor, I caught the man again in the nose. This prevented him from jumping on me as I fell back. With a quick roll, I swept at his legs and over he fell. With the brass end of my staff, I impaled him.

The man I hit in the groin was still useless in the fight. He barely moved the entire time. However, the other three had managed to re-arm themselves. However, they were clearly afraid now.

In fact, one started to run. With a few strides, I hooked him in the arm, and directed him to run into a tree. It is then that I noticed he had a knife. I stood there puzzled for a few seconds. "Why didn't they use their knives?" I asked myself.

I shrugged at the thought, and I grabbed the man's knife. With a quick flip, I hit the other combatant in the neck. By the look in his eyes, he was quite surprised by this turn of events.

The man I directed into the tree was lying on his back, and I grabbed his sword. I looked at the leader of the group. His friend was lying there unconscious at my feet. I looked him in the eye, as I drove the sword into the man's chest.

Now, the only men left in the fight were the leader, who said he was me, and the doubled over soldier. I rushed the soldier who could not stand, and hit him with an uppercut with my staff. He did a flip and landed on his face. Again, I looked the leader in the eye as I gave his comrade's head a twist. The leader began to weep.

"You are responsible for the deaths of these men," I said calmly. "You could have let a tired old man rest beside the road, but you did not. You could have shared in my food, but you did not. There were many paths you could have chosen, but you chose death for your comrades."

The man dropped his sword and put his head in his hands. He began crying uncontrollably now.

"You are lucky," I started.

"Lucky?" he sobbed with his head still in his hands.

"Yes, you will not have to suffer your guilt for long!" I replied as I took one of the swords and lopped off the man's head.

The man who claimed to me was the 1000th man I killed in my lifetime, so I gave an extra special sacrifice to Mars when I gave thanks to the gods and Neptune. It was dark when I had finished everything, and I was quite tired. I was worried about scavengers during the night, and I slept uneasily.

I was up early, and made it to the next town by midmorning. I rested peacefully, and had no other troubles on the road. Thank the gods!

"1000 is a staggering number," replied the former gladiator's wife when the story ended.

"The last one brought me to a conclusion," responded Pervalidus.

"What was that?" Bella inquired.

"Notoriety as a killer brings more opportunity to kill."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, every man I have killed has a father. Perhaps he has a brother or maybe children. In any event, his death can have effect on many others. These others may want revenge. Thus, they may come after me as several have."

"You cannot change the past."

"Thank you Bella. I can -- however -- change what people hear about the past. I asked Octavian to rebuke the story about his dream to give me credit for saving his life. I realize now that this is a mistake. If history records that a dream saved his life rather than me killing those 53 men, the relatives of those men will not come after me."

"That is sensible."

"The entire time I was fighting for Rome, I was looking for notoriety. I should have been doing it for something more noble. I feel ashamed about that."

"You said you were fighting to appease the gods who promised peace. That is a noble cause."

"Indeed I did. However, when I was actually in battle..."

"No 'howevers'! What went through your mind while in the heat of battle is irrelevant. Those thoughts kept you alive and fighting. The dreams of glory stopped you from giving up. However, your true motive was 'peace.'"

"Why did I name you Bella when I should have named you Astuta..."

"Your words honor me husband. Let us prepare to dine now."

The former gladiator contacted the Emperor Caesar Augustus to tell him not to fight the story of