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Post By The problems introduce themselves in this offworld occasion by... the Hooded Hood. Sat Sep 25, 2004 at 10:12:15 am EDT |
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#173: Untold Tales of the Transworlds Challenge: The Starting Gate, or Lives of the Party | |
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#173: Untold Tales of the Transworlds Challenge: The Starting Gate, or Lives of the Party Previously: The cosmic Gamesmaster has begun his Transworlds Challenge, a race between all the civilised words in the galaxy. The winners receive the glittering Starseed. Those who fail to compete will be wiped out. The Lair Legion and their allies have travelled to Alpha Reticula with sentient vehicle Aunt Sally to prepare for the contest. Note: There’s a lot of characters in this one, and while I’ve tried to provide proper introductions and necessary background, there’s a Who’s Who of the Transworlds Challenge provided in the footnotes below for the really baffled.  The Gamesmaster’s Gameship looked like a giant 1950’s model of a molecule, a complex interconnection of spheres and rods that encompassed roughly the size of Neptune. There were sufficient separate habitats that each competing species had private space of their own, and a communal mall with training and leisure facilities. In addition to the candidates and their support teams came the curious and the thrill-seekers, the journalists and official observers, the traders, the con-artists, and anyone else who could scrape up an excuse to head through the teleportals provided by the Gamesmaster for the purpose. “This is incredible,” gulped Nitz the Bloody as he stared down through the plexiscreen window at the teeming throng below. “Not only do aliens exist, but there’s millions of ‘em.” “Yes,” agreed Yo. “And Yo is to be looking forward with fun for shopping with them.” The excited pure thought being had a point. The marketplaces that had sprung up in the communal areas were packed with the exotic and the rare – or at least with things that seemed exotic and rare to the hopeless provincials from the planet Earth. “Perhaps later?” Hatman suggested. “Right now we need a game plan.” “Right,” sighed Uhuna. “Duty comes first.” She pouted a little but followed the others down into Aunt Sally’s hanger bay. “Hello, everybody,” the sentient vehicle greeted her guests. “I hope nobody’s still feeling space sick?” “I was alright until you reminded me,” said Visionary, turning pale again. “Excuse me…!” “Okay,” Hatman called the assembly to order. “Now it’s very important that everyone knows what we’re doing, and what this Transworld Challenge is all about. Lee, have you managed to absorb all the rules the Gamesmaster’s drones provided us with?” “Oh yes,” agreed the Librarian. “There’s lots of detail, but the main contest is pretty simple. There are four legs to the race.” He gestured to the screen and Al B. Harper punched up the images. “The first leg is really an elimination round,” Lee explained. “There are roughly nine thousand contestants, but only the first five hundred past the finishing post continue on to the second test.” “So we get there first,” shrugged Trickshot. “No biggie. Aunt Sally’s pretty fast.” “I am a third generation Austernal transdimensional transportation vehicle,” the whiz wagon explained. “I have a quantum singularity power source and seven quantum transfer thrust conversion engines. So yes, I can go pretty fast. But I’ve been looking at the specifications for some of these alien vehicles. I may not be the fastest.” “We’ll consider the opposition in a moment,” Hatman considered. “First let’s hear the tests.” “Well, round one is the speed trial,” the Librarian recapped. “A straight dash through deep space of around a hundred and fifteen light years, and no dimension-hopping or time travelling allowed. Oh, and no weaponry except to clear debris.” “There are rounds where weapons are allowed?” worried Goldeneyed. “Round two is the obstacle course. The terrain isn’t announced in advance. It could be land, sea, hard space, nebula, or a mixture of them all. The objective is to survive and reach the finish line.” “Are these time trials?” Nats wondered. “In each of the four tests, five points are awarded for coming first, three for second, two for third, and one point to every group that gets their vessel across the finishing line with at least one crew member still alive,” the Librarian explained. “This is rather dangerous, isn’t it?” Uhuna started to worry. “You will be careful all of you, won’t you?” “We’ll be fine,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! assured her. “We’re the good guys. We have to win. The baddies’ll cheat but their plans will go astray and they’ll end up hitting the finishing post or something.” “You do know that Wacky Races is just a television show, right?” checked Amy Aston. “What do you mean, ‘just’?” “The third test?” prompted Hatman. “The scavenger hunt,” Lee revealed. “A test of skill, deductive ability, and courage in assembling a collection of objects and returning home. To finish that one you need to have got all the items as well.” “Sounds fun,” admitted Nats. “So what do you want to bet we’ll have to get monsters teeth or something?” There were no takers. “And the fourth leg is the endurance race,” the Librarian concluded. “A long haul through some of the harshest, most dangerous terrain in the Parodyverse – and no ban on weapons. The other competitors are considered to be just more hazards.” “I am armed with a pair of heavy duty gravity accelerators and a point defence/assault laser battery,” Aunt Sally assured them. “The weapons are worked by the people in my nacelle compartments.” “You can’t fire them yourself?” Ebony, high priestess of the Manga Shoggoth, asked. “Well I can, dear,” the ship replied, “but I’m squeamish.” “They push us, we push back,” Trickshot declared. “Simple as that.” “Not quite that simple,” the Librarian noted. “Everyone and their brother will be out to cull the newbies when the race starts. Just surviving is going to be a major challenge.” “We don’t just survive,” Hatman assured them. “We win. Whitney’s life is on the line, and Starseed was our friend too. We win, right?” “It’s what I do,” shrugged Trickshot. “Should we all pile our hands together now and do a victory shout?” CSFB! suggested. “I’ll just go get Visionary out of the lavatory then, shall I?” asked Nitz the Bloody.  ~~Do you think they’ll be alright?~~ Cressida the Wonder Worm asked Sir Mumphrey Wilton as they gazed at the stars above the Lair Mansion. “Good chaps, the lot of them, even the chapesses,” answered the leader of the Lair Legion. “No reason they shouldn’t be.” He glanced over at the rumpled figure of dull thud as he slouched in his grubby t-shirt and knitted cap. “Wishing you’d gone with them now?” “Kind of,” thud admitted, “but Cressie wants tae find her origins, an’ this seemed like a good time for a break.” ~~I seem to have been subjected to Abhuman plot-altering mists, but not by the Abhumans~~ Cressida noted. ~~I need expert advice on this, so I’m going to the Antarctic, to the Shoggoth’s lair.~~ “The Shoggoth couldn’t help you here?” the eccentric Englishman puzzled. “It’s not Shoggy she wants to talk to,” thud explained. “It’s the diabolical Dr Moo.” “And Ms Waltz was imprisoned in stasis by the Shoggoth,” Mumphrey realised. ~~Was is the correct tense~~ Cressida added. ~~Apparently the Shoggoth let her go because he felt she might be unhappy. So now she’s loose again. But Antarctica’s where the trail starts, so that’s where we’re going.~~ “If we can borrow a Lairjet, that is,” dull thud asked apologetically. “We won’t get this one all covered in pickles, I swear to ye.” ~~Mr Epitome has taken the opportunity to go and “advise” spiffy again on the Badripoor takeover~~ Cressida pointed out. ~~We could still be on call like he is if there’s an emergency. A non-cosmic challenge emergency I mean~~ “Take care then, m’dear,” Mumphrey told her. “You too, young thud.” He thought for a moment. “Er, don’t feel you have to bring me back a souvenir form the Shoggoth’s lair, what?”  “So,” beamed Dancer at the Dark Knight and Fin Fang Foom. “How have you been? Did you miss us?” The urban legend controlled his temper so as not to hammer his fist into the wall. “Well, things were going pretty well until just now,” he answered roughly. “We’d got the 66 Gates drugs ring pretty well infiltrated until somebody wandered in to say hi and convinced the bad guys to give up their life of crime and turn over a new leaf.” “It’s a shame to lose all those defence fees,” agreed Lisa Waltz, “but there’ll always be more generic drug dealing thugs to get under the covers with.” Finny shuddered, because with the amorous advocatrix you could never be sure how literal she was being. “Was there a special reason you called to see us in the middle of what we used to call our case, or is this just a social call?” the Makluan dragon wondered. “Well, we have missed you at the mansion,” Dancer smiled at them. “And also at the Bean and Donut Coffee Bar. Takings have been down fifteen percent since DK stopped calling in there.” “But actually we needed some help,” Lisa added. “Regarding this Transworlds Challenge.” “I thought we’d already sent the team off to derring do?” Foom frowned. “Is there some problem?” “Well, not if we want to play by the Gamesmaster’s book,” Dancer admitted. “But who’s going to trust an all-powerful cosmic being that wipes planets out if he doesn’t like the way they play?” agreed the Dark Knight. “Mumphrey sent you to work out how to take cassock-guy down if it comes to that.” “Let’s say we’re the jokers in the pack, and we like to stack the decks,” Lisa suggested. “All the while not getting the Earth deleted for cheating,” Dancer added, “If possible.” “Sounds like a good plan,” agreed Finny. “What do you need from us?” “Nothing right now,” Lisa smiled at him, “But I’ll remember the offer.” “We just need to talk to the Chronicler of Stories,” Dancer noted, trying to sooth the twitchy wild-eyed dragon. “And since the Chronicler’s an other-timeline version of DK…” “We don’t talk these days,” the Dark Knight said grimly. “Ethical similarities.” “You mean differences,” suggested Finny. “I know what I mean.” The urban legend stepped back into the shadows. “You want to see Lost-the-Mission Boy, you’ll have to find another way in.” “No problem,” breezed Dancer. “The chances are good.”  “Alright! A party!” enthused Trickshot. “I gotta see if I can find me one of those green-skinned alien chicks that needs to be taught all about Earth-lovin’.” “Be careful,” Amazing Guy warned him. “This is a reception for the contestants in the race. All the teams are here. It may seem like a social event but it’s deadly serious. Don’t get caught alone and don’t let them psyche you out.” “We need more information on the main contenders,” the Librarian suggested. “Perhaps if we mingle?” “Are we allowed to fight them?” CrazySugarFreakBoy! demanded. “Can we, huh? That big Jabba the Hut guy over there’s the Slimy Slaver Lovetoad, and he just needs kicking from here to Tattooine.” “There is to be being a general truce,” Yo warned. “Any race that is to be starting to be fight is to be eliminated from challenge – and eliminated.” “So if we can get them to start it, we’re thinning the opposition?” Falcon suggested. “And having their planets destroyed,” Visionary pointed out. “So don’t.” “I’m worried at how many people I can recognise,” Goldeneyed admitted to Hatman as he pushed through the throng towards the canapés. “Isn’t that Anihillatus, the Lord of the Negativity Zone?” “I’d hate to think how powerful he’d become if he got hold of Starseed,” Hatty shuddered. Across the room CrazySugarFreakBoy! was trying to buy Nightslide of the Shee-Yar Imperium Guard a drink. “Oh sure, every time you guys have come up against us guys we’ve kicked your booty,” he admitted to the lithe alien girl with his most endearing grin. “but that doesn’t mean I can’t buy you a Pan-Galactic Gargle-Blaster.” “It will be our pleasure to see you arrogant Earth heroes humbled at last,” promised Gladeater, leading the Shee-Yar team in the challenge. “We have studied your vehicle,” Broodmaster R’Pr of the S’Zox Assassin’s Guild assured Al B. Harper. “It is inferior to our own sentient deathships. We shall eliminate you once weapons are free, and mount your carcasses in our trophy cabinet for future hive generations to understand the correct way of eviscerating Earth creatures.” “Or you could pass the weenies on sticks?” Al B. suggested. “Do not to be scowling,” Yo encouraged the Super-Skunk, multi-powered representative of the powerful shape-shifting space conquerors. “Is no reason to be being afraid. Yo is sure you will be to be doing your best in racing.” “Why are you dragging me away from those nice men from Pigeonworld?” Uhuna asked Nats. “They were only telling me about how much better their reproductive abilities were than Earth humans.” Nitz the Bloody found himself cornered by three strange-looking beings. One was covered in a shiny red sheath like liquid metal. The second was a huge humanoid that appeared to be composed of dirt and broken bones. The third was an albino woman with eyes that reflected universes. “Er, so you’re in the race, eh?” he said, trying to sound cheerful. “You are High Priest of the brief mortals of Sol III, yes?” Terrorox, former herald of Galactivac enquired. “We do not like Sol III.” “I’m getting that a lot,” Nitz admitted. “I think we have some PR work ahead of us.” “Even if your Earth survives this contest, though your team will not, we shall destroy it,” promised Undermind Obscura. “Tell them that. Tell the Probability Dancer. We are coming for you. And her.” Nitz swallowed hard. “Can I tell her who sends their best wishes?” he ventured. “These are the heralds of Galactivac, the Living Death that Sucks, are they not, Visionary?” considered Ebony, slipping up beside the Priest of Zeku. “I’m sure I recognise that genetic alteration, although I’d have to have the Shoggoth dissolve them a little bit to be certain.” She reached for the amulet around her neck that contained a blob of the creature. “Probably best not to,” suggested Vizh as the Crimson Cyclist shied away from the elder being. “C’mon Nitz, you’re missing the gateaux.” “It’s going quite well,” Amy Aston suggested to Miss Framlicker. “Nobody’s been annihilated yet. Miss Framlicker downed her drink gloomily. “The party’s young.” And by the bar Trickshot stood in the path of an armoured warrior half as large again and looked down the business end of a Rod of Importance. “Is there a problem?” he demanded of Dronon, the Public Accoster of the Skree Star Empire. “The problem,” answered the absolute legal authority of a thousand conquered worlds, “is that you are standing where I wish to walk.” “Yeah. And the problem with that,” the arrogant archer replied, “is that where you wished to walk was already occupied by the pregnant lady, okay. So wish ta walk somewhere else, bozo.” The confused woman in the gypsy clothes behind the archer blinked in surprise as someone stood up for her. “You risk much in denying passage to a Public Accoster, terran,” Dronon warned Trickshot. “Yer not goin’ anywhere near my passages, twinkie,” Carl Bastion assured the Skree. He noted the rest of Dronon’s squadron peeling from the bar to flank their commander. “Please,” the pregnant woman assured him. “I can move.” “Don’t trouble yourself, sister. Less the smell here’s botherin’ you.” “Is there some problem?” Goldeneyed asked, drifting in to stand beside Trickshot. Hatman took up position at the other side. “Your team-mate lacks discipline,” Dronon warned the humans. “And survival sense.” “He probably knows there can’t be any fighting here at the reception,” suggested Amazing Guy, joining the little tense knot. “He knows what would happen to his planet if he started something.” “Eh, didn’t Skree-Lump blow up last time we went there?” G-Eyed pointed out before he realised what he was saying. “Er…” “We shall be specially looking for you,” the Public Accoster promised, pointing his Rod of Importance at the Lair Legion. Hatman turned to the flustered woman. “Are you okay?” he asked Amazing Guy concentrated for a moment on the purple-skinned mother-to-be. “Yesmin, of the Clan Klayhog, the nomads from the Eridani cluster,” he sensed, using his cosmic awareness. “You’re their time-seer.” “Please,” Yesmin told them, “I don’t want any trouble. Just let me go find my Clan.” “No trouble from us,” Hatman assured her. “In fact we’ll escort you back to your folks.” Trickshot watched AG and Hatman lead Yesmin away through the crowd. “The trouble with this shindig,” he complained to G-Eyed, “is that it’s dull as ditchwater.”  ManMan put down the payphone and went back to the caddy where Xander, Cleonie, and Mad Wendy were waiting for him. Wendy was bored, and little winged octopi in rainbow colours were flitting round the vehicle. “I spoke with the JBH,” he told his companions. “Apparently the Yurt went on another rampage and he’s back in custody in the Safe.” “Good,” considered Xander the Improbable. “That’ll make him easy to find.” “To find?” worried ManMan. “We have to find him? You said you wanted to know where he was. You never said find him.” “Haven’t you worked out where this is all going yet, Joe?” Knifey chuckled. “We have to go and recruit the Yurt,” the master of the mystic crafts explained to the Elvis impersonator. “We’re going to need him on the team.” “He’s a psychotic battle-crazed loon,” ManMan objected. “Yes,” agreed Xander. “And he’s in the Safe, the most security super-villain lock up on the planet.” Xander nodded. “Presently,” he added. “I like road trips,” Mad Wendy told the clouds.  “Right, we’re in,” Killer Shrike said, glaring suspiciously at the crowd around him. “Who do we kill?” “We don’t kill anyone,” Blackhearted, the alternate-reality dark version of Goldeneyed warned him. “We’re here to find out what’s happening, not to rack up a body count. Yet.” Keiko looked around the groups of beings gliding, strolling, and even skittering around the Observation Deck. “At least your headgear won’t look as ridiculous here,” she comforted Simon Maddicks. Killer Shrike was finding it hard to command his companions’ respect in his traditional super-villain garb with its half-mask and bright yellow topknot. “Listen, Little Miss Stabby-Pants, for your information…” “No,” interrupted Sorceress. “We are not listening to this conversation again. We have a job to do here. Do it.” An androgynously-beautiful golden humanoid drifted towards them. “You are the world avatar for Sol Three in Mutter’s Spiral?” it chimed to Whitney Darkness. “Welcome to the holding area.” “Holding area?” Killer Shrike asked suspiciously. “Why are we up here on this big balcony lookin’ down through the glass at all those guys milling about having a party down there?” “Because we’re being held,” Keiko surmised, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings and trying to adapt as quickly as possible. Just one look around her at the bizarre life-forms and ridiculous beings firmed up her resolve to find some way of keeping all of this out of her own native reality. “Down there all the contestants and their support crews are mingling before the big match. But this level’s reserved for the ‘stakes’ – the world avatars who will be snuffed out if their team doesn’t win. Am I right?” “You are correct,” the androgynous service-being agreed. “We shall make your world avatar and her retinue as comfortable as possible during your stay, and then arrange for your disposal should your own planet not prevail in the challenge.” “I can’t teleport out of here,” Blackhearted discovered. “Some kind of dimensional lock.” He didn’t add that it was a good job they had access to a fundamental Parodyverse artefact, the Portal of Pretentiousness, created by the great powers to see and shift through realities. Right now it was their only means of escape. “So all of these people here are the world-avatars your master is holding hostage,” said Whitney Darkness coldly to their host/ess. “They have each agreed to be their race’s stake.” “Or have their planet destroyed,” the Sorceress accused. “Who’s here?” “From your locality,” the androgynous servitor answered, unperturbed by it’s guests’ anger, “there is Princess Annar of the Skunk Confederacy…” “The green-skinned kid with the chin like oatmeal,” Killer Shrike surmised. “The Skunks must be pretty desperate to sacrifice their princess,” Blackhurted frowned. “And pretty determined to win.” “Arbiter S’Trakk of the Z’Sox…” “The spider-thing with too many legs?” KS guessed. “It moves like an assassin,” Keiko observed, with remarkable perception. The entire Z’Sox species was bred with those abilities in mind. “Ancient Shadara of the Thonaggarians, last survivor of the Great Eyrie after the disaster that struck her people…” “The old gimp with the tatty wings,” Shrike pointed. “What disaster?” Sorceress frowned. “D’rothy, property of the Slavers Corporation of Frammistat Eight…” “She’s only a child!” Keiko said angrily. “Yeah, a kid they felt they needed to keep power dampeners on!” Blackhearted noticed. “I really don’t like the Slimy Slaver Lovetoad. I think his internals organs might look better teleported out of his fat lizard stomach.” “And Prime Mistress Oma, betrothed of Dronon, the Public Accoster of the Skree Star Empire.” “Dronon’s future wife is on the line?” Blackhearted realised. “Uh oh. That’s going to kind of motivate him!” “She’s the one pushing her way through the crowd because of her superior physique?” Keiko frowned. “The blue-skinned bitch with her nose in the air?” And who keeps her centre of balance too high, despite her evident combat training, she didn’t add. “Prime Mistress Oma was personally selected for this task by the Public Accoster himself,” the golden servitor assured them. “He said no sacrifice was too great for the glory of the Skree Star Empire. It is quite likely that he and his team will once again win in any case.” “She thinks so,” Keiko noted. “Yeah,” agreed Killer Shrike. “Try not to stab her, okay?” “On behalf of my creator the Gamesmaster I hope you have a pleasant stay on the Observation Deck. You will of course have full access to all the information feeds of the events. We shall do our utmost to ensure that your final days are comfortable.” So said the servitor before winking out. It was no longer required to exist. Killer Shrike looked around him at the world avatars. A few looked back curiously, but most seemed frightened, alone, vulnerable. “So?” the mercenary asked. “Who do we kill?”  “I’m grateful to you for safely escorting Yesmin back to us,” the Patriarch of the Klayhog Clan said to Yo, Hatman, CSFB!, Trickshot, and Nats. “There are few here showing such courtesy to others.” Yesmin clutched her belly. “We both thank you as well,” the very pregnant woman told them. “Hey, damsels in distress are part of the job description,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! told her with a big sweeping bow. “You have to be the Earth heroes,” Clan Elder Broto guessed with a cackle. “We’ve heard of you, even in our nomadic wanderings.” “We didn’t do it,” Nats said quickly. “Er, unless you heard something good about us?” “We heard you were a brash, interfering people with little understanding of the cultures you disrupt,” Yesmin told him. “But we also heard that you are hated by the Skree, and the Skunks, and the Slavers of Frammistat Eight, and that recommends you to us. We hope you win.” “Uh, us to be winning?” Yo puzzled. “Don’t you want to be to winning for yourselves?” Broto chuckled ruefully and shook his head sadly. “We compete to survive, young hero, like many here. We know we have no chance of winning, no hope of reclaiming our stake, my son, our leader…” “My husband,” added Yesmin, swallowing hard. “But it would be nice to think that for once the prize would be gained by some who might use it for good, not for conquest or destruction,” the Clan Elder said.  Falcon spotted Amazing Guy’s urgent gestures and pushed his way through the throng to join the protector of the Parodyverse and the Librarian. They were huddled in conversation with a large bipedal frog of some kind. “This is Dr Blargleslarch, of Frammistat Eight,” AG told Sam Wilson. “A slaver?” Falc scowled. “Certainly not,” snapped the alien. “We’re not all like those profit-hungry barbarians, you know. I’m an archaeologist.” “He’s one of the patrons of the Moon Public Library,” Lee Bookman explained. “He’s here on the Frammistat support team.” “Not that I want to support the Slimy Slaver Lovetoad and his cronies in enslaving the Starseed,” Blargelslarch explained, “although it would be nice to save the poor child our world has used as stake for entry of this vile contest. That’s why I was sharing what I know with my old friend Amazing Guy here.” “You have intelligence about the race?” Falcon perked up. “Yes. Our seers have discerned quite a bit about the first contest,” Dr Blargelslarch admitted. “We know where it is to be.” “That would be very useful to know,” the Librarian admitted. “We could prepare, train, research the terrain…” “This is the speed trial, right?” AG remembered. “Yes. It’ll be a combination of space and ground travel. But the space component is on the edge of the Dead Galaxy!” Falc strained to recall the LL case file. “A whole galaxy interdicted and destroyed by the Celestian Space Robots?” “Right,” shuddered the Librarian, who had visited. “And full of very odd spacial conditions. The sub and hyper-space layers are in tatters, making faster than light travel very dangerous and space-folding impossible.” “It makes sense,” Amazing Guy considered. “Cuts down on the advantages of big ships and technology, relies more on skill and courage to take risks. Evens the field.” “It’s a brutal choice,” Dr Blargelslarch warned them darkly. “Many people will die on this leg of the race.”  “Miss Framlicker!” Uhunalura called is an excited whisper. “I need to speak with you!” Miss F broke off from a conversation with a group of squid-like engineers from the Crab Nebula and let herself be dragged away to an alcove. “What now?” she demanded. “I was just trying to set up a transport route through the…” “Miss Framlicker, I was talking to some men…” “No, really?” “And they told me about something! Something we have to try!” Miss F blinked. “Um, Uhuna, I’m very flattered of course, but really…” “The Light Constant Shift Circuit!” Uhuna went on. Now the EEE Manager was really puzzled. “The what? What are you talking about, Uhuna?” Amy Aston joined the huddle. “She’s heard the buzz,” the engineer explained. “Quite a few races are talking about it. The Z’Nox assassin-ships use a special kind of technology to ripple between worlds. Helps them appear without warning, inside planetary defences, right through energy defence screens and the like.” “And they do it with the Light Constant Shift Circuit,” Uhuna went on. “It changes the constant for the speed of light, makes faster than light travel require less energy.” Miss Framlicker whistled softly. “That would give someone a huge advantage if they were trying to break the light barrier in normal space.” Now Nitz drifted over to see what was happening. “Normal space?” he asked. The others looked at him like he was the village idiot. “There are three typical ways of faster-than-light travel,” Miss Framlicker lectured impatiently. “You can drop out of normal space where we usually dwell into one of the adjacent physical realms, like hyperspace or subspace, where conventional high-speed travel can get you much further much faster.” “Aunt Sally does that one,” Amy interjected. “You can create a huge pinch in the fabric of timespace linking two distant points instantaneously and fly through the momentary gateway,” Miss Framlicker went on. “It requires massive energies to do it, and it can’t really be done in a planetary atmosphere if you’re covering galactic distances.” She considered and added with a sigh. “Unless you’re Lisa, for some reason.” Nitz nodded and was glad his iron mask covered the baffled expression on his face. “Or you can just power through the E=mc2 barrier, burning massive energies to change the speed of light constant by rewriting the physical laws in your immediate locality,” Miss Framlicker explained. “Aunt Sally can do that too,” Amy grinned, “but not for long. The big ships that are a mile wide have a real advantage when it comes to that kind of travel. But usually it’s the least efficient of the three methods. The power cost is too big.” “Except there’s this Light Constant Shift Circuit the Z’Sox have,” Uhuna said excitedly. “If we had that we might be able to solve the energy requirement! And these men said they’d let me have the blueprints if I’d only…” “Word’s out all over the party,” Amy pointed out. “Whoever ripped those designs is peddling it everywhere. Well, he’s not, since apparently the Z’Sox have sanctioned him, but the tech specs are being sold and traded and resold and re-traded everywhere. Tomorrow everyone’s going to have that modification.” “Then we need it,” Miss Framlicker decided. “Okay,” agreed Uhuna brightly. “I’ll just get some mayonnaise from the salad bar and then…” “That won’t be necessary,” Hatman said firmly striding up to join the group. “We won’t be cheating.” “Cheating?” Visionary asked, noticing the Earth-cluster and heading towards it with a loaded buffet plate. “Some villainous bad guy is cheating?” “Nah, it’s not cheating,” CSFB! argued. “It’s trickstering. That’s cool.” “That is certainly an imaginative use of the transient verb,” Ebony noted wryly. “I’d certainly like to get a look at that tech,” Al B. Harper admitted. “But it’s wrong,” Hatman persisted. “Just because everybody else is doing it…” “Then we gotta,” Falcon interjected. “You heard about the terrain for the first leg, right? We have to have that circuit to stand a chance.” “So let’s get this straight,” Visionary worried. “We’re the ones that’ll be cheating?” “No,” said Trickshot. “The bad guys cheat. We don’t.” “We trickster,” CSFB! explained. “No, we don’t,” Amazing Guy argued. “Then we’re no better than the villains.” “But we win,” pointed out Miss Framlicker. “You’re not forgetting Whitney’s life is at stake here, are you Hat?” Goldeneyed asked the caped crusader. “Of course I’m not,” snapped Jay Boaz. “But we don’t cheat to save her. Period.” “So she dies for your principles?” Falcon scorned. “What a tight-ass!” “Uh guys,” Nats interjected before the discussion could deteriorate any more, “Isn’t this kind of Yo’s call? Yo and Nitz?” “Me?” gulped the Priest of Zeku. “And me-ing,” Yo added, joining the group at last. “What is to be the problem?” Yo thought s/he could understand a dozen people all talking at once, and it was so. “Very well,” the pure thought being replied. “Yo has heard all of your cute-viewpoints and has to be decided. We are not to be stealing of and using of Light Constant Shift Circuiting. That is to be Yo-choice.” There was a chorus of protest, but the deputy-leader of the Lair Legion held up a hand for calm. “Without that modification we’re finished before we started,” Amy warned. “Yo is to be thinking we still have a chance,” answered the pure thought being. “But I’m all for the cheat,” Nitz pointed out. “Then is to be too bad Yo has outvoted you.”  The next morning more than nine thousand vehicles hovered in deep space on the edge of the Dead Galaxy, dwarfed by a backdrop of ruined space shredded by rippling black dots. The Gamesmaster raised his arms and spoke telepathically into the minds of every contestant. “The games begin,” he warned them. “And the race commences. Let the trial winnow you, and the testing prove you. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” “Begin.”  Next issue: The media event of the millennium has commenced, with on-the-spot reportage from across the galaxy. Join us as we watch the universe watching our heroes… but watch out! All is not what it seems. Coming soon in Untold Tales of the Transworlds Challenge: Live on All Channels  The Footnotes Will’Nae stand It, Captain: dull thud’s quest: Cressida is seeking the diabolical Dr Moo (principal character of former poster Diao Waltz, Lisa Waltz’s fictional and real life sister), bovine-specialist genetic scientist, and No. 1 Biology Person in the Parodyverse cast list. Moo’s been imprisoned by the Manga Shoggoth since the end of Untold Tales #58, pending whether poster-Daio ever returned to the board. But you all saw the message she put up recently advertising her artwork, right? That’s gotta count, yeah? More on this plotline sometime after the Transworlds Challenge arc, or if poster-thud reappears, whichever comes sooner. Mr Epitome Goes to Badripoor in Mr Epitome #34, and it’s probably fair to assume that his interest in that turbulent Pacific-rim nation-state doesn’t end when the UN declares its sovereignty. And let us not forget that Letitia Gahagan, the Idiom, has now received sanctuary there. Just saying. Fin Fang Foom and the Dark Knight departed from the Legion and set off on their own Byzantine agenda in Untold Tales#169. It looks like the 66 Gates drugs cartel is their first port of call. The Chronicler of Stories and the Dark Knight are different incarnations of the same Greg Burch, split off from each other long back by circumstance and destiny. One has become a bleak and obsessed cosmic being, the other an undead vigilante crimefighter. At the moment they don’t have much to say to each other. The JBH (Justa Bunch of Heroes) is an informal alliance of do-gooding superheroes with an ever-changing roster, based off Vessel, a vast sentient ship usually orbiting the Earth. The Yurt, a massive gamma-irradiated cross between a Russian nuclear worker and a peasant hut, was recently working with the team before being captured by the Lair Legion in UT#167. He has been imprisoned in the Safe Metahuman Containment Facility.  The Who’s Who of the Transworlds Challenge The Team from Sol III: Hatman (Jay Boaz), who has the ability to take on powers associated with whatever headgear he dons. CrazySugarFreakBoy! (Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove), whose Impossibilitium silly suit and associated gadgets are powered by his ability to process sugar into super-powers. Trickshot (Carl Bastion), a loudmouthed and talented archer. Nats (Bill Reed), a telekinetic and pyrokinetic transdimensional deliver man. Goldeneyed (Bryan Katz), super-strong teleporter who recently left the LL after arguments about his tenure as deputy-leader. Visionary, LL founder and possibly-fake man. Amazing Guy (Scott Brunsen – or possibly not given where Crisis might be going), protector of the Parodyverse gifted with cosmic awareness and the ability to control solid energy forms. The Diplomatic Mission from Sol III: Nitz the Bloody (Shawn Griffin), youthful Priest of Zeku, an African Earth deity. Ebony of Nubilia, High Priestess of the Manga Shoggoth Cult Falcon (Sam Wilson), SPUD-assigned bodyguard Vehicle: Aunt Sally, third generation Abhuman exploration transport. Earth Avatar Stake: Sorceress (Whitney Darkness), a witch who has fallen prey to the Hooded Hood and doesn’t like it. Sol III Support Crew: Yo, pure genderless thought being, deputy leader of the Lair Legion. Al B. Harper, brilliant but eccentric archscientist. The Librarian (Lee Bookman), keeper of the Lunar Public Library. Miss Framlicker, Manager of Extraordinary Endeavour Enterprises, the interdimensional transportation company for which Nats works. Amy Aston, short-tempered mechanic for EEE. Princess Uhunalura, exiled Abhuman with the gift of transferring injuries between people; Nats’ lover. Working behind the Scenes for Sol III The Hooded Hood, cowled crime czar and scheming archvillain, who has deployed a number of agents such as… Sorceress (Whitney Darkness); see above Killer Shrike (Simon Maddicks), a combat-hardened mercenary assassin supervillain from another reality. Keiko Chinato, police detective and former political assassin from another different reality. Blackhearted (Bryan Katz), a bitter cynical version of Goldeneyed from a different timeline. Back on Earth: Sir Mumphrey Wilton, leader of the Lair Legion. Lisa Waltz, the amorous advocatrix, LL founder and legal advisor; Lisa’s cat is indestructible. The Probability Dancer (Sarah Shepherdson), waitress turned chance-manipulator. Mr Epitome, US government sponsored superhuman soldier. The Manga Shoggoth, a loathsome elder being. Cressida, the Wonder Worm, and her host dull thud, questing for their origins. NTU-150 (Jamie Bautista) millionaire industrialist inventor Asil Ashling, Mumphrey’s amanuensis and No 1 Visionary fan. Kerry Shepherdson, Visionary’s rebellious ward, and one of the Junior Lair Legion.. Hacker Nine (Zack Zelnitz), computer anarchist hiding out in Visionary’s condo. Lindy Wilson, Falcon’s little sister and Zack’s friend. Pigeon (Julia Thompson), Falcon’s girlfriend and fellow SPUD agent. Lisette (Laurie Leyton), retired superheroine and Goldeneyed’s old girlfriend. Bethany Shellett, Laurie’s flatmate and Goldeneyed’s potential girlfriend. Working Behind the Scenes with Xander Xander the Improbable, master of the mystic crafts, and usually the Parodyverse’s Sorcerer Supreme. ManMan (Joe Pepper), wielder of the talking knife Knifey. Mad Wendy, a world-class reality-altering telepath who’s as stable as the Dow Jones index. The inconceivable Yurt (Vlastimock Bogoff), gamma-irradiated walking peasant hut. Cleone, a mythological swanmay and Xander’s new familiar. The Aliens The Skree Star Empire, led by the fascist Dronon, the Public Accoster, wielder of the Rod of Authority; his betrothed, Prime Mistress Oma, is her world’s stake in the Contest. The Skunk Confederacy, a race of shape-shifting conquerors, led by the multi-powered Super-Skunk; Princess Annar is their stake. The Z’Sox, a race of arachnid assassins commanded by Broodmaster R’Pr; Arbiter S’Trakk is their stake. The Shee-Yar Empire, represented by the Imperium Guard led by Gladeater; their high priest is the Eyrie-Father The Thonnagarians, a fierce race of Pigeonpeople; amongst their team are Eyrie Master Bensun Jak and warrioress Shazara Pel; their stake is Ancient Shadara, last survivor of the Great Eyrie. The reptiloids of Frammistat Eight, led by the Slimy Slaver Love Toad; slave D’Rothy is their stake, the Hierophant is their religious leader, and scholar and archaeologist Dr Blargelslarch is a reluctant part of their support team. Anihillatus, lord of the Negativity Zone, is a bioengineered creature of immense destructive power with an instinctive link to and control of the mysterious otherdimensional Negativity Zone. The Heralds of Galactivac, competing for the Tarkadian homeworld, are the space-bending Crimson Cyclist, the fear-manipulating Undermind Obscura, and the bone-controlling Terrorox. The fourth herald, not part of their current endeavour, is the Probability Dancer. Clan Klayhog, nomads from the Eridani cluster, are one of many no-hoper competitors; led by Clan Elder Broto and his pregnant daughter-in-law Seeress Yesmin; Jesmin’s husband, Broto’s son is their Clan’s stake. The Nacluv are a highly advanced and highly stuffy civilisation. The Crystaxians are a crystal-based life form recently displaced from their homeworld. The Broob are a parasitic race of savage insectoids. The Maxellians are a super-powered race of expansionist adventurers. The Apuffyliptians are brutal survivalists from Dark Thugos’ stronghold. The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Who's Who in the Parodyverse Where's Where in the Parodyverse  Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2004 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2004 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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