Legion of Super-Heroes Fanfic: "Myriad," Chapters 8 and 9 of 9

Chapter Eight

One of the Myriads had done the unthinkable.  She had slipped past Superboy and Mon-El.  While her replicates kept the two Legion titans busy, she alone accessed the corridor to the main lab.  It had been easier than she thought.  Blame it on male egos – they probably never thought a mere Carggite girl would outsmart them.

But there was no time to be overconfident.  The sheer number of replicates had taken a serious toll.  Myriad found it difficult to focus on her mission or to even remember why she was there in the first place.  But in a few minutes, her mission would all be over and no one would ever stop her again.

She found the door to the main lab strangely unguarded.  Surely the Legionnaires knew where she was heading by now.  Why hadn’t they posted more Legionnaires outside, or even automated sentries?  Perhaps she had already encountered all of the available Legionnaires.  

No matter.  She placed Invisible Kid's flight ring in front of the scanner.  The door whisked open.

The main lab sprawled out before her like a mini-citadel of its own, with rows and rows of objects she couldn’t begin to recognize.  She could get lost for days trying to find what she wanted.

But there it was, right in front of her. The upright diagnostic bed was unmistakable, as were the cylindrical apertures extending from its side.

Starfinger’s psonic analyzer.

She went cold.  Repressed memories came flooding back.  Why in the galaxy did she want to expose herself to such agony again?

“My deductions were correct,” came a voice from behind her.  Myriad spun around and came face to face with Brainiac 5, the Legion’s super-genius.  He stood with his arms folded, looking not the least surprised.  “It is the Hanscom cellular duplicating ray you are after.”

“H-Hanscom?”  Myriad said, the name dimly familiar.

“Dr. Lars Hanscom. Better known as Starfinger.  You know Starfinger very well, don’t you, Thleka Caredi?”

“Y-You know my name?”

“Once I deduced that our intruder was Carggite, it was simply a matter of scanning the holo-news from your world.” Brainiac 5 stepped forward slightly. "One report, several months old, told of a young woman being abducted in broad daylight by a winged creature which teleported out of nowhere.  It had to be Warxxi, Starfinger’s winged servant.”

Myriad blinked as the memory resurfaced. She had been on her way to the Temple of the Three Suns when the creature appeared out of nowhere. Its scaly wings blotted out the sky. People around her ran, but she couldn't move. It's raw power, it's sheer grace and beauty transfixed her. She didn't realize it was coming for her until it was too late.

"Starfinger wanted to know the secret of Carggite replication," Brainiac 5 continued, "so he could create more replicates of himself. "He must have experimented on you, a random citizen of Cargg, before he perfected the process and tried again by recently kidnapping Duo Damsel."

"He tortured me with that device!" Myriad pointed to the psonic analyzer. "It felt like he was splitting me apart atom by atom, and then he just returned me to Cargg, as if nothing ever happened."

"But something did happen afterwards, didn't it?" Brainiac 5's tone was sympathetic, even compassionate. "You split into four, and then five, and then six bodies. Replicating more than twice is not unknown on Cargg, but it is rare. You were regarded as a freak, an abomination . . ."

"They shunned me!  I didn't ask for any of this, but it didn't matter."

"And yet you want to expose yourself to the psonic analyzer again."

 Myriad realized the Coluan probably already knew of the toll creating so many replicates was taking on her. "If I can correct the imbalance, I can create even more replicates of myself without straining," she admitted.

"And then what will you do?"

 “I’ll create an army and return to Cargg! I'll make them pay for shunning me."

“So, that’s what you want, simple revenge?”  Brainiac 5 asked, rhetorically.  “You are a sick woman, Thleka.  The sheer number of replicates is taking its toll on you.  Surrender and we can help--”

Before the Coluan could finish, Myriad replicated two more of herself and jumped him.  But all three were immediately repelled.  As they picked themselves off the floor, Brainiac 5 glowered at them.  “Did you truly think that I would confront you without activating my force field belt first?”

“It doesn’t matter!” one of the Myriads shouted.  “This is what we want!”  All three flew toward the psonic analyzer, and then watched in horror as it changed.  The analyzer morphed into Chameleon Boy, the Durlan Legionnaire who could imitate the appearance of anything.  Myriad had been tricked.

Chameleon Boy next turned into a Dakledian spider and ensnared one of the Myriads in his 14 arms.  The other two Myriads also found themselves busy.  Shrinking Violet, who had been hiding in tiny size, resumed her full height and slugged one Myriad, while Phantom Girl phased out from a wall of consoles and, turning solid, grabbed the third Myriad, judo-flipping her (a move Karate Kid had taught her).

“You fools!” the Myriad who was ensnared by Chameleon Boy blurted.  “I can replicate more ... as many as it takes ... to defeat you!”

“I doubt it,” Brainiac 5 said, as he activated a nearby console.  Giant video screens appeared around them, showing Legionnaires fighting Myriads replicates throughout the headquarters.  Myriad watched in horror as her sea of selves started to thin out, then vanish altogether, leaving only perplexed Legionnaires.  “The actual psonic analyzer,” Brainiac 5 explained, “is hidden elsewhere in this room. As well as being able to replicate cells, it can also subtract them.  You have been exposed to its invisible rays from the moment you entered the lab.”

“What Brainy’s trying to tell you,” Chameleon Boy said, “is that what Starfinger gave you, the Legion has taken away.”

“That’s right,” Phantom Girl added.  “There are only three of you left.”

“You’re just a normal Carggite, now,” said Shrinking Violet.

Myriad’s scream echoed throughout the lab, reverberating off the walls before she wore herself out.

Chapter Nine

Invisible Kid’s shift at monitor duty was just beginning.  Perhaps this is all he’s good for anymore, he thought.  By the time he had woken up in the alley behind the Crev Café and flagged down a Science Police cruiser, the action was all over.  He had missed the whole thing.  Fortunately, no real damage was done, and Myriad had been apprehended and turned over to UP authorities.  Even Invisible Kid’s injuries were slight, though enough to delay his mission to Pasnic. 

But the damage to his pride had been severe. A deranged woman had invaded Legion HQ using his flight ring.  His flight ring.  Perhaps his days as a Legionnaire were truly over.

 “Hey, Lyle,” Matter-Eater Lad said, bounding into the monitor room. “Here’s the report on the applicants who are trying out next week.  Looks like a bunch of losers, if you ask me. One of them looks kind of interesting though, if you’re into mucus.”

Lyle took the report and glumly tossed it over on a console.

“Hey, cheer up,” Matter-Eater Lad said.  “It could happen to anybody.  We’re Legionnaires, not gods.”

“How would you know?”  Lyle said.  “It would probably never happen to you.”

“What?  Getting clobbered by a girl?”  Tenz replied, wistfully.  “Probably not.” 

Invisible Kid rolled his eyes.

“What I don’t get is,” Tenz added, “what were you doing in that nightclub by yourself?  Don’t you know the Crev is in a rough neighborhood?”

“No,” Lyle admitted, “I didn’t.”

“Well, why don’t you come along with Val and me when you get off duty?  We’ll show you where the classy spots are.  Then you can pick up some real girls who won’t turn out to be super-villains.”

“Thanks, but I have a paper to finish.”                

“Suit yourself,” Tenz replied, shrugging, and started to walk out.  “But you spend way too much time writing research holos, if you ask me.  You’re not Brainy, you know.”

Lyle bristled.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Coluans have wet dreams about test tubes, but the rest of us are human.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m officially off-duty, so I’m going to go be human for a while.”

Lyle pondered this.  His career as a Legionnaire had been rewarding and eventful.  But there was more to life than saving the universe from the Fatal Five and writing research papers.  As a Legionnaire, Invisible Kid was expected to be well organized and precise.  But without Lyle Norg, the spontaneous brat who created an invisibility serum because he wanted to skip school, there would be no Invisible Kid.  And, just like that, Lyle made another spontaneous decision.

“Hey, Tenz,” he shouted as his teammate was almost out the door.  “Can you wait for a moment?”

“Sure,” Matter-Eater Lad replied.

Lyle hit the intercom, ringing the dorm room of his friend, Chemical King.

“Whassup?”  a sleepy Condo Arlik answered.

“Chem,” Lyle began, “something's come up.  Can you fill in for me on monitor duty tonight?”

Chemical King perked up.  “Sure.  For you, Lyle, anything.”

“Thanks,” Lyle replied.  “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”  He then toggled off the intercom, and turned back to an amazed Matter-Eater Lad.  “So, while we’re waiting for Chem to get here, tell me more about these classy night spots.”

A Power Club Dramatis Personae: Who’s Who in Damon’s World

Now that The Power Club™ is available, let’s review who the main characters are and what they can do.  

In The Power Club™, kids who develop super-powers must live inside “the district,” a small, confined series of neighborhoods in which they are separated from “ords” (people who have no powers), other than their immediate families, and have limited freedom. Kids can gain more freedom if they join a special club—if the club accepts them.

The "code names" in parenthesis are not used in the story, and they may or may not be used in the sequels. Damon, who came up with the names, thinks they’re great. Danner thinks they’re dumb. You decide.

DAMON NEUMEYER (“Master of Darkness”)—Age 13, Damon has the ability to create darkness.  He can plunge a medium-sized room into total darkness by creating a “darkspace,” a mysterious environment that appears to be a part of him. Only Damon can see inside the darkspace—images appear black and white to him. No one can hear inside the darkspace unless he opens a “soundspace” for them to communicate. Neither Damon nor anyone else can see or hear what goes on outside the darkspace. Damon has lived in the district since age six and, because kids aren’t allowed to use their powers in public, he hasn’t had much chance to develop his power; hence, the reason he wants to join The Power Club.

KYLE POWELL (“Teleporter King”) – Age 15, Kyle can teleport himself, other people, and objects. The person or object being teleported appears to “scramble” as if its insides and outsides are being rearranged and reassembled somewhere else.  People who are teleported often feel a brief sense of nasuea afterwards. While the distance Kyle can teleport himself or others is uncertain, he refuses to “send” anything out of his line of sight to prevent it from merging with another person or object. Kyle can teleport two people at the same time, but doing so is very dangerous. 

DENISE EVANS (“Forture Teller”) – Age 14, Denise can see the future. Her power, so far, is very imprecise.  For example, she can predict an event which will occur but not exactly when it will occur. Or she may know the exact time of an event but not how it will turn out.  She may sense that others will need her help but not know the exact details.  On the other hand, Denise can predict with alarming accuracy how other people will behave or what they will say. Denise claims her visions are never wrong.

VEE EVANS (“V-Blur”) – Age 12, Vee—Denise’s younger brother—possesses super-speed. Vee does not know exactly how fast he can run because, being confined to the district, he has nowhere else to go. But he’s fast enough to avoid Damon’s darkspace and to zip around unseen by most people, who perceive him only as a fleeting blur. Because of his power, Vee sometimes talks fast and can be very impatient.

ALI REEVES (“Flyer”)—Age 14, Ali can fly—a power most kids in the district would love to have. But Ali, too, hasn’t had a chance to learn how to control her power. Being gravity-less and ground-less, she can easily float away. However, she is learning to have greater self-confidence and can swoop in and out of dangerous situations.

DANNER YOUNG (“Tower”) – Age 14, Danner can grow to enormous heights. As he grows, his strength and weight increase proportionately. His upper limit is 30 feet, but he rarely grows higher than 20 feet. His power gives him enormous self-confidence and an aggressive personality. He keeps his normal height at six feet just so he towers over other kids.

These six principal characters in The Power Club™ are not the only kids in the district with powers. Soon we’ll take a look at others, including the villains.

If you like this post, you may also like:

• "Is 'the District' in The Power Club Evil?" 
• "The POWER CLUB Chapter 1: 'A Special Club' (Revised)"

What Do You Think of My New POWER CLUB Book Cover?

Print version available soon!

Ebook version available NOW at Amazon Kindle.

Be Authentic: Should Writers Be Themselves?

Be authentic.

This advice became a frequent theme at the Business of Writing – Success workshop last Saturday. Several presenters encouraged writers to be ourselves—even if we’re boring! Such advice is very appealing. After all, many of us became writers in order to express ourselves.

But being authentic carries risks. What if no one likes you? What if you don’t like yourself?

These questions keep resurfacing as I sit in a restaurant, chowing down on breakfast, and listening to old tunes piped through the intercom. Bruce Springsteen’s “Hungry Heart” played earlier. If you know the song, you know how it begins:

Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack

I went out for a ride and I never went back

In a sense, Springsteen glorifies a man who abandoned his family. Yet the song was a hit precisely because it exposes an authentic feeling we all share: the hungry heart that can never be satisfied, not even by the traditional avenues of love and marriage. Being authentic means being real, which means admitting we’re not perfect. We’ve let ourselves and others down, and our hearts are still hungry.

But being authentic can be dangerous. Just look at the state of U.S. politics these days. 

Probably the most authentic public statement made this year was uttered by a Missouri politician. He asserted that women who are raped have a way of "shutting down" their bodies to prevent pregnancy. The assumptions and rationale behind the statement appear to be as follows: If a woman gets pregnant from rape, she must have wanted to be raped. Therefore, rape is not a valid reason for abortion.

To be clear, this was a reprehensible statement from someone who was a) ignorant of biology, b) trying to justify a black-and-white view of abortion, or c) both.

But was it an authentic statement? Almost certainly. It's hard to imagine anyone—much less a candidate for the U.S. Senate—saying it without believing it. The fact that he stuck to his guns and refused to withdraw from the race amid criticism from his own party supports the theory that he was being authentic. (He lost the election, by the way.)

It’s easy to pillory someone who makes outlandish and ignorant claims. Yet should we not admire him just a little for being so honest, so . . . authentic? 

Well, no. Peddling stupidity is never to be admired.

And yet, as writers, we can be just as ignorant at times. We create fictional characters to dress up our own notions of how the world should be or how we think it really is, and those notions can be built upon any number of false assumptions, painful experiences, and comfort zone observations.

In being authentic, we risk exposing those notions—those cherished aspects of ourselves—to painful criticism. Worse, being authentic means looking in a mirror and judging what we see.

The tightrope of authenticity becomes even thinner when one writes for children and young adults. Certain subjects are considered very risky when writing for a young audience. By mentioning rape and abortion, for example, have I crossed the line?

I don't think so. The kids who will be reading The Power Club™  live in the same world in which politicians make controversial statements and in which their parents and other adults in their lives choose sides, debate, and sometimes divide over such issues. Kids are not stupid. They can see what's going on in the world and form their own opinions. They can see that there really is no wall between the fictional worlds we create and the real world we seek to understand. Each realm mirrors and informs the other.

Which brings us back to being authentic. If you are authentic, you reveal who you really are in your stories—warts and all. You risk being criticized for your warts, both by those who want to help you remove them and those who want to feel better about their own warts by making you feel bad about yours. You risk appearing stupid, hateful, ignorant and foolish because, let’s face it, you are all of these things some of the time.

But you also recognize the good in you—and in others. And that some risks are worth taking.

How do you manage authenticity in your writing?

 

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What's in it for You? Rate this Blog

This blog has now been around for a year and a half.  It consists of 85 posts and counting—at least one per week.  While its purpose (like that of most author blogs) is to promote my brand as a writer, it also exists to share insights and advice on writing in general and, in particular, about writing super-heroes and for young adults.

And, apparently, what I have to say has some value, as over 4600 pageviews have been recorded (some, I know, are probably spambots, but we’ll ignore them).  Fifteen people have joined the site (thank you!) and many of you have left comments on various posts (thank you, too!).   

I’m thrilled to have an audience and one that keeps growing! 

But I can’t take sole credit for this blog’s current or continuing success.  Much of that rests with you. Without readers, there would be no point in doing this.

So here’s your chance to tell me what you like and don’t like about The Semi-Great Gildersleeve. What’s working for you and what isn’t? What would you like to see more of or less of? 

(I’m thinking content-wise, though if you have strong feelings about the graphics or any other aspect of the blog, let me know that, too.)

Some questions to consider:

• What attracted you to this blog in the first place?  How did you find it?
• What posts have been particularly insightful, helpful,  or otherwise memorable?  (No, you don’t have to look them up.  Just tell me what you remember.)   Have any been cringeworthy?
• Are the posts too long, too short, too diffuse in terms of subjects covered?
• What keeps you coming back (or, if you haven’t been back in awhile, what’s kept you away)?
• On a scale of 1-10 (ten being the highest), how would you rate this blog in terms of how interesting or useful you find it?

As my work-in-progress, The Power Club™, nears completion, I'll be posting more stuff related to it, such here, here, and here.  But, in the meantime, I've also analyzed old comic book stories such as here, here, and here, and discussed movies such as The Hunger Games and X-Men: First Class.  But this blog also branches out into "this 'n' that" territory, such as The Help and The Beatles. 

My underlying purpose is to show that all writing is connected, and that writers who want to excel in their craft can learn from a diverse body of works while remaining true to their central focus (e.g., super-heroes).  

So, what do you think?  Is The Semi-Great Gildersleeve fulfilling your blogging needs?  If not, what can be improved?