JUNE 25, 1987
Bruce Stacey’s Condo
Lindell Terrace Condominiums
4501 Lindell Blvd
St. Louis, MO
After a month Bruce has had his fill of Television programming. Although he has become fascinated with the costumed man in Philadelphia on the News. Bruce would love to be able to propel himself through the sky. As it stands all he can really do is float. It has become clear to him that most people in the world can’t do anything like he can just as his father had always told him. But this Master Warrior, could he be one of the young people he met years ago in the House of the Thirteen. Master Warrior would appear to be the right age for the other guy there named Steve. There was a dark haired girl there too could she be this Sentry from San Diego? he wonders.
Bruce grew up in the mountains of Missouri alone with his father having no exposure to anyone his own age. That strange night in the House of the Thirteen was the only time he felt like he had friends his own age. Bruce’s father always told him it was only a dream, but he never wanted to believe that his father was right. For a long time Bruce was sure it was all true that there were four other people with special powers like him. As he got older he sometimes questioned that fact, but now it appears it was true. Maybe he should try going to Philadelphia or San Diego to meet them.
Not much is going on around here. His only visitor has been Phil Kinkaid who has taken him out to show him the city several times. He has seen many of the sights of St. Louis, the Gateway Arch, the Busch Sports Stadium, and the St Louis Art Museum. In all this time he has not heard from Cloris Armstrong once. He has tried going to her office several times, but it is almost like she is avoiding him. It would seem that the only way to catch her in her office is to sneak in unannounced.
It is 4 am, far earlier than anyone will be in the office. Bruce has been up since 3 am to shower and dress for his rogue mission. He combs his overgrown brown hair back out of his eyes. Back home his father would have cut his hair by now, citing insect infestation. The last time anyone cut his hair was his father and now he can’t bring himself to let anyone else do it.
Phil Kinkaid usually doesn’t arrive until 8 am to make sure that Bruce has his day laid out for him. Bruce has come to suspect that it is a plot just to keep him busy and away from the Publisher’s office. Dressed in new clothes other than the old hand mended ones he came to St. Louis in Bruce is sure he will blend in with everyone else on the street. It is his descent from the tenth floor terrace that might draw attention to him if he is seen by anyone. His father always encouraged him to use his powers, to learn what he could do with them and push his limits. It was an easy thing to do living so high in the mountain wilderness with no one else around to see, but here in St. Louis all Bruce wants to do is fit in. Although he is excited to see there are others who can do amazing things by normal standards on the News, he will keep his powers hidden for now. It is pouring rain as he begins the walk to Howard Publishing. Not a drop of rain touches Bruce as he employs his Null-force power to shield himself. It would not do to arrive at the office soaked to the skin, this is an appropriate use of his power on the near empty early morning street.
Dr. Bybo’s secret lab
Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
Dr. Bybo has been studying a St. Louis based author’s book, “The Scarab.” for months now. In it the author Lawrence Stacey gives the location of a lost alien spaceship. Bybo has been using that information in hopes of finding that ship. The Taum Sauk Mountains are vast and he has used every technique available to him to search the mountain range for months. Surprisingly his equipment has found something about three miles from an abandoned cabin at the top of the mountain. A team of men has been dispatched to retrieve whatever it is out there that has registered on his satellite scans. It reads as foreign metal encased in concrete measuring to be a cube to be 6 feet by 6 feet by 6 feet.
“Dr. Bybo we have found the location,” the voice comes over the radio. “Strangely it was all new tree growth up to the sight, nothing more than twenty years old, sir.”
“Excellent,” Bybo replies over the radio. “Begin excavation, I expect it back at base by morning!”
“Sir, there is a slight problem,” the voice says timidly over the radio.
“What!” Dr. Bybo exclaims, “What is the problem?”
“When we arrived a land mine was detonated by one of the large pieces of equipment,” the subordinate explains. “Sonar shows that there are more bomb buried in the area.”
“Then clear them!” Bybo shouts into the radio. “Do what you must, just do not damage the package!”
Alameda International LTD.
The offices of Howard Publishing
1221 W Lockwood Ave
St. Louis, MO
The sun isn’t even up when Bruce arrives outside the building where the offices of Howard Publishing are located. He has learned a lot in the past weeks in the big city. One thing is that cameras are everywhere inside the building. Getting to Cloris Armstrong’s office unseen would be impossible so he has found another route. In an alleyway behind the building he locates the woman’s office by counting off the windows from the corner. Bruce then activates his power to lift him up the nine stories to the window of Cloris Armstrong’s office.
His years of practicing to use his Null-force has made him skilled in doing what might seem impossible. Stepping onto the ledge outside the office window Bruce focuses the smallest of Null-force beams on the inside window latch. Concentrating his Null-force this tightly makes it almost as if the target is being forced away from the pull of gravity. It takes a few minutes but Bruce is pleased when the latch on the window inside pops open. Bruce steps inside the office locking the window again behind him to ensure his entry remains a mystery. Taking a seat on the leather sofa he waits for the editor to arrive.
8 am and Cloris Armstrong arrives at her office to find Bruce Stacey asleep on the leather sofa in her office. Her first thought is anger at the lack of security in the building that this guy could get in here unnoticed. Walking to her desk she reaches for the phone to call security to remove the young man. But then she reconsiders, placing the receiver back down on the base. Clearly she can not hide from this man, whoever he truly is, she needs to face him. Cloris steps over to the sofa, reaching out she shakes the sleeping young man’s shoulder. He stirs slightly. Taking hold of his shoulder she shakes him harder, realizing that this boy is nothing but a mass of muscle under his loose fitting button down shirt.
“What?” Bruce exclaims coming around. He looks around the office and then at Ms. Armstrong realizing where he is. “I figured this was the only way I was going to get into your office!” he states sitting up straight on the sofa. “I appreciate all that Mr. Alameda has done for me but I came here to be an author not a shut-in!” “Have you even read my book?” he asks eagerly.
Cloris Armstrong turns to pace back behind her desk, where she always feels the most in charge of a situation. Standing authoritatively with her fingers braced on the edge of the walnut desk she replies, “Yes, I have read your book.” “I question if it truly is your book and not just more ranting written by your father.”
Bruce is shocked by her statement. “It is my book, I wrote it with my own hand!” he almost shouts at her as he stands up his full six feet, four inches. “My father encouraged me to write it all down, but never did he have any input!” Bruce stands silently glaring at the Editor for a moment. “What is your problem with my father anyway?” “He told me that you were close friends, that you would help me.” His stance is imposing to Cloris but not threatening. The moment she feels threatened she will push the panic button hidden under the edge of her desk.
“Have you ever read any of your father’s books?” Cloris asks bluntly.
Bruce’s face turns from anger to confusion. “No, I was unaware that he was an author,” Bruce replies. “He was a teacher of college aged students.”
Cloris wants to not believe anything this man tells her, but he stands looking at her with the innocence of a puppy. After finishing reading his book all Cloris wanted to do was know who he truly is. There is no way this young man is the son of Larry Stacey! None of his story makes any sense to her, if not for Mr. Alameda she would have thrown this fraud out seconds after he began his outlandish story. “How is it you were raised by a man and want to be an author but never read either of his books?” Cloris deals out two books from a stack on her desk. She flops the first one down in front of Bruce. “The Scarab,” she announces, “Lawrence Stacey’s first book tells the story of the world of Damerax that is raked by civil war.” “It is seen through the eyes of two star crossed lovers, Greeta and Hubaut.” The Editor then places another book on the desk about ten inches away from the first. “Lost Boy Found, tells the story of an alien boy Oolam who comes to Earth after the world of Damerax was destroyed at the beginning of another war.”
Bruce stares at the two books on the desk, both of them are about three inches thick. The cover art is disturbingly familiar to him but he has never heard of either of the titles. His father had many books at their home in the mountains but neither of these were one of them. Clear as day Bruce can see his father’s name on the cover of Lawrence Stacey.
“Then there is your book, Finding a Home,” Cloris states, flopping Bruce’s manuscript down on the desk in between the other two books. “It fits right into the storyline between Larry’s two books!” “You even use the same names, Greeta & Hubaut and the planet Damerax!” the editor declares. “And you expect me to believe that you never read either of the other books!”
Bruce is thoroughly confused now, he doesn’t understand how any of this is possible. “I swear to you it is true, I never read these books!” “My father never even spoke of them!” Bruce insists as he picks up the first book entitled “The Scarab.”
“After reading your manuscript, I did some research,” Cloris admits, sitting down in her desk chair. “I wanted to know who you really were, I could only assume you were some kind of scam artist looking to capitalize on Larry’s infamy.” “I searched every police record I could get my hands on.” “Then I turned my attention to birth records.” “I found this.” Ms. Armstrong pulls a sheet of paper from her desk drawer. It looks rather official as she lays it on top of Bruce’s manuscript.
“What is it?” Bruce asks to pick it up to read the fancy scripted words “Birth Certificate” across the top.
“It is your birth certificate,” Cloris replies. “Read who was named as your mother was on that document.”
Bruce’s eyes scan down the document to find the listing for mother. “Cloris Leslie Armstrong,” he reads aloud. Bruce looks to the nameplate on the editor’s desk. “You are my mother?” he asks.
Cloris smirks, “Of course not, that is a faked document.” “If you look to the bottom you will see that the officiator on it was Rebecca Zimmer.” “She was Larry’s sister, she worked at the County Register for years, clearly Larry had her fake this Certificate for him.”
“Why would he do that?” Bruce asks, more confused than ever. “Why would my father do any of this?” “Where is this Rebecca Zimmer, I need to speak to her!” Bruce demands.
“That is not possible, she passed away ten years ago, lung cancer,” Cloris reveals as she finally begins to feel some compassion for this young man as she realizes that he has no idea who he is either. Bruce sits back down on the leather sofa staring at the document in his hands. Cloris moves from behind her desk giving up some of the control she enjoys. “When Larry, your father left St. Louis he was a troubled man,” Cloris begins to explain sitting down in a leather chair next to the sofa. “His first book had been a fabulous success only to be scared by his second.”
“What do you mean scared?” Bruce questions.
“Lost Boy Found was nothing like his first book,” Cloris answers. “The reason was his fans saw it as a rip off of a story they had heard a million times.” “There were lawsuits filed on copyright infringement.” “Larry insisted that his book was different because it was a true story.” “He was labeled crazy and the publisher recalled all of the books and fired his Editor, making it impossible for either of them to get another job in the industry.”
Bruce looks to Cloris, his heartbreak showing in his eyes. “You were his editor?” he asks.
“Yes, and I turned on him too,” Cloris Armstrong confesses. “That is when he left.” “He told me he had to get away from people, get things worked out.” “I regret not trying to stop him but I had my own problems to deal with.” “When he didn’t come back, I honestly believed he had killed himself.” The two people sit silently in the office for more than a few minutes, neither knowing what else to say. Then Cloris gets up to return to her desk. “I really think you should read this,” she says, giving Bruce the book titled, “Lost Boy Found.” “I hope it will make some things clearer to you.” “You are really the only one who might be able to figure out the truth.”
Bruce Stacey’s Condo
Lindell Terrace Condominiums
4501 Lindell Blvd
St. Louis, MO
It is 10 am when Bruce arrives back at his Condo to find Phil Kinkaid waiting. “Where have you been?” Phil interrogates the moment Bruce walks in the door. “You know you are not going anywhere without me!” Bruce ignores his supposed assistance’s demands as he goes to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water. He carries with him the book given to him by Ms. Armstrong. “You don’t seem to understand disappearing like that puts my job in jeopardy!”
Bruce walks to the living room sitting down on a reclining chaise. “I understand perfectly, you are my prison guard, not my friend,” Bruce says, placing his water bottle on the side table. “The rest of your day should be easy because I am going to sit here and read this book,” he says holding up the copy of “Lost Boy Found.”
“Where did you get that?” Phil questions. “I thought all of those books were recalled by the publisher.”
“Why don’t you go back to whatever it was you were doing for the past two hours,” Bruce tells his hired “bodyguard.” “I’ve got a whole hamper full of dirty laundry, I know how much you enjoy that!” Phil stands slack jawed in the center of the room as Bruce begins to read his father’s book.
Three chapters into the book Bruce finally realizes, “This book is about me!” he says looking up to not see Phil Kinkaid anywhere. The events described in the book are clearly things Bruce remembers happening to him as a child. How is that possible? His father wrote this book years before he was born! He spends the next two hours reading the book from cover to cover. Bruce relives every monumental moment of his life through the eyes of his father. It is as amazing as unbelievable to him, from the first time he used his Null-force as his father called it to the first time he lifted a tornado above the mountaintop. Even the events at TJ’s Truck Stop Diner are described in accurate detail.
Closing the book Bruce thinks back to TJ’s Truck Stop Diner. Chuck Hart spoke to him of his ability to dream the future, perhaps his father had something similar. But it still remains a mystery as to why his father would not tell him the truth about any of these things. Then it finally sinks in, if this is a book of his life story, then Larry Stacey and Cloris Armstrong are not his parents. He is the child, Oolam from the planet Damerax! That would explain everything that is different about him.
It is a lot to comprehend all at once as Bruce gets up from his chair for the first time in hours. Going to the kitchen he fixes himself some lunch, a sandwich and a glass of milk. He realizes then what Ms. Armstrong said about his book, that it was the same characters Larry used in his first book. Bruce has another revelation as he sits down at the table to eat. Greeta and Hubaut are his birth parents. He too has written a tome of history not fiction. That first book, what was it called? he thinks, “The Scarab.”
Just then Phil Kinkaid returns carrying luggage with him through the front door. “What are you doing now?” Bruce asks as his associate struggles to get in the door.
“Isn’t it obvious, you can’t be left alone!” Phil replies. “So I’m moving into the spare room!”
“Great, now drop that junk, we need to find a book,” Bruce tells him as he chugs down the last of his milk.
June 27, 1987
Commander Edma’s stronghold
The warehouse District
St Louis, MO
Commander Edma’s new location has been fortified into a stronghold over the past few months. It has come a long way since they arrived in Missouri. Discarding the identity of Janet Redmayne has been a big advantage as they move toward their ultimate goal. She now freely inspects the progress of her plans openly wearing her own appearance. Commander Edma is an imposing figure standing nearly six feet tall. Her blue-gray skin has smooth scales like that of a snake. From the top of her head a crop of blue blonde hair sprouts to flow down her back held by bands of silver. She wears a uniform not very different from something Earth military would wear, although it is much more resilient.
The construction of Robo-drones has preceded Edma’s estimation beautifully. Having found a near endless supply of energy to fuel them, the Robo-drones have become a very useful tool in the beginning of construction of a starship to get home. The ship may still take many months to build but the construction will go much faster with a hundred Robo-drones at her command.
Climbing the stairs to the balcony level of the old warehouse that has become her stronghold on Earth she goes to meet her second in command. Never did she expect to find such an incredible piece of technology on Earth. The Android once know as the Guardian of Themyscira has been at her side for nearly a year now. She has found many uses for its adaptive skills once she reprogrammed it using her own Nanotechnology. It most recently was used as the husband of Janet Redmayne when she gave it the name Robert. The name is all that remains now that she has stripped it of its fleshy sheath to appear as its true plantlike self. “Robert what is your report for me?” she demands entering the hub of activity. Several Robo-drones work at different stations in the large control center platform.
“Mistress, the human Cifredo has found a way to cloak himself from our observation,” the android Robert replies. “And it would appear that the Argoian Powersuit has gone dormant although it is still linked to the power source.” Commander Edma did not take the threats of Antonio Cifredo seriously but she has still kept his activities under surveillance while working to find yet another alien on Earth in this city, that might aid her in the war at home.
“No matter, Cifredo and his granddaughter are of little interest to me any longer,” Edma replies. “Their usefulness has passed!” “Tell me about this other mystery alien, have you located it yet?”
“Continual scans over the last forty-eight hours have detected use of an alien energy not of Earth origin,” Robert replies. “With all systems on-line as of this morning I have identified the alien as Damerax in origin.”
“A Damerxite?” Edma marvels. “That is not possible, they were all destroyed with their planet!” Edma moves to the control panel to examine the data herself.
“It would appear that one survived the detonation of the Anti-world device your people used on the planet,” Robert suggests.
“Well then it shall be my pleasure to rid the universe of this last bastard!” Edma exclaims turning away from the control panel to contemplate her plans.
“What is your will, Mistress!” Robert asks as all of the Robo-drones in the room turn to hear the Commander’s words.
“Your research into the humans and Zeni-human acclimate has proven successful?” she quires.
“Yes, Mistress,” Robert answers. “I can now definitively find the humans most likely to become Zeni-humans upon exposure to the Bernr parasites.”
“Then I think it is time we use the last of the Bernr parasites to create a very special team of assassins.”
JULY 13, 1987
The Armstrong household
2924 Sutton Blvd.
Maplewood, MO
It is early morning after Bruce has read and reread his father’s books and his own several times. Bruce has finally decided what his next step needs to be. Sneaking away from Phil again was not hard because he was passed out on the sofa after a late night. Bruce has taken it upon himself to go to Cloris Armstrong’s home to return the book he borrowed from her weeks ago. The sun is just rising over the horizon as he stands at her front door apprehensive about ringing the bell. When he hears the television News on inside replaying footage of Master Warrior and Sentry’s activities in Boston he finally rings the bell.
He could hear someone inside calling out, “I’ll get it,” then hurried footsteps to the door. The door is opened by a tall thin young man with dirty blond hair, probably only a few years younger than Bruce. He is dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt with a look of shock on his face. “It’s, it’s you!” he says.
“Excuse me, I was looking for Ms. Armstrong,” Bruce says to the young man. “Perhaps I have the wrong house, I’m not used to houses being so close together.”
“No, this is right,” Derrick Armstrong says, reaching out to grab Bruce’s arm. “You’re the guy from the storm, the one who saved us!”
The familiarity that Bruce saw in the boy when he answered the door makes sense know, he is one of the boys from that car in the tornado. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Bruce says, trying to sound sincere.
“Derrick, who is it?” Cloris Armstrong calls to her son as she walks up behind him. “Oh it’s you,” Cloris says at the sight of Bruce Stacey at her front door. She dressed in a robe and slippers drinking from a cup of coffee.
“I just wanted to return your book before I leave,” Bruce says, holding out the book to her.
“Lost Boy Found, by Larry Stacey,” Derrick Armstrong reads from the cover. “That’s ….”
“Hush, Derrick,” Cloris says. “Bruce came into my office where we can talk privately.” Bruce wipes his feet on the mat to step inside. He follows the editor to her office down the hall from the front door. Derrick follows close behind them. At the door Cloris turns to her son, “No, you go get your breakfast, let us talk privately,” she tells him.
The inside of the home office is much different than Ms. Armstrong’s office downtown. The walls are lined with shelves full of books. Bruce has never seen so many books in one place. As usual Cloris takes a seat behind her desk, laying the book down. “Now what is this about you leaving?” she asks.
“I have to go back,” Bruce replies. “I have to find the ship before the scientist.”
Cloris signs, “You are as insane as Larry was over all of this!” “It is a book, a work of fiction!”
“No, it is not,” Bruce replies. “I don’t know how, but that book is the story of my life!” “Everything my… Larry wrote in those pages, really happened to me!”
Cloris sits behind her desk still skeptical. “I see you are trying not to call him father anymore,” she comments. “Why is that?”
“Because he is not,” Bruce replies. “Greeta and Hubaut are my parents.” Bruce lifts his hands pointing at Ms. Armstrong’s two hundred pound oak desk and it floats up from the floor. The well educated book editor pushes her wheeled chair back against the wall in shock at the sight of the floating desk. “If the events in the book continue to play out as he has written them, this world is in danger.” “I am the only one who has the power to stop the scientist from discovering the secrets of my ship.” Lowering his hands the desk softly returns to the floor.
Cloris Armstrong sits in her chair speechless for a moment before responding to what she has witnessed. “There was something else,” she mutters. “There were parts of both of his books that I edited out.” “Something about the anatomy of the Dameraxites.” “I felt it was not necessary to the story and rather strange.” “The Damerax people had bodies that were completely symmetrical, split right down the center.” “Where humans have one heart, one liver, one stomach the Dameraxites had two.” “Can you prove to me you are a Dameraxite?”
Bruce stands silently for a moment, he knows what Ms. Armstrong is asking him to do. It is the one thing that his father always told him to keep completely secret. He can think of no other option, after all she was identified as his mother on the fake Birth Certificate. Without another word Bruce undoes his pants and drops them to the floor. Through the surprised look on Ms. Armstrong’s face he can tell he has made his point. “Is that proof enough for you?” he asks, bending down he picks up his pants.
“It’s true,” Cloris whispers, still in shock over seeing what she just did. “It was all true, Larry wasn’t crazy.”
“I believe it is,” Bruce replies. “This is what he raised me to do, to save this world.”
Commander Edma’s stronghold
The warehouse District
St Louis, MO
Commander Edma addresses her android servant, “Robert, have all of the new Zeni-humans been accounted for?”
“Yes Mistress, all have been brought into the fold, save the one who did not survive,” Robert answers.
“Very well then it is time for some field trials,” Edma announces. “Have you located the Dameraxite?”
“Yes Mistress, he is going by the name of Bruce Stacey and he is on the move,” Robert informs the Spartan Commander. “After identifying the nature of the alien and adjusting scan parameters, I have been able to identify residual uses of the Null-force energy up to two years ago.” “It would seem that the Dameraxite is returning to a location he has been prior.”
“Excellent!” Commander Edma announces, perhaps he will lead us back to the ship he used to arrive on this planet.” “Dispatch agents 2, 8, and 23 to the Dameraxite’s current location!” “But hold them in check until I give the order!” “Surveillance only!”
JULY 14, 1987
TJ’s Truckstop Diner
4300 Showplace Dr
Farmington, MO 63640
Bruce sits alone at a booth table in the restaurant eating breakfast. It is a long hike up the mountain even for him. He has no idea when the next time he will be eating this well, so he fuels up. He half expects to see Chuck Hart again at the counter, but there is no sign of the truck driver.
“Hi, Bruce isn’t it?” the young man says sliding into the booth across from him. Derrick Armstrong smiles as he drops his backpack on the bench seat next to him.
“What are you doing here?” Bruce asks.
“I want to come with you,” Derrick replies. “I know it was you who saved us in that tornado, I want to help you.” “Repay you for saving my life, maybe be your Jimmy Olsen.”
“Jimmy who?” Bruce questions. “Look, you really need to go home.” “Does your mother know you are here?”
“Please Mom spends most of her time at work, she won’t even miss me until morning,” Derrick tells his new hero. “I heard you and Mom in her office through the air vents.” “I want to help.” “You’re the guy from my Dad’s book.”
“Your father was Larry Stacey?” Bruce asks as his mind races to put two and two together.
“Yeah, he died before I was born though,” Derrick replies as the waitress approaches the table.
“Can I get you anything, sweetheart?” the friendly big haired waitress asks.
“I’ll have two eggs over easy, bacon and hash browns,” Derrick replies. “And a big glass of milk like he’s got.”
Bruce waits for the woman to leave the table before speaking again. “If you believe that I am the man from your father’s book then you would know what I am about to do is too dangerous,” Bruce justifies.
“Being from the hills you probably have never heard of this, but I am what is called an adrenaline junky,” Derrick replies, taking a sausage link from one of Bruce’s many plates on the table. “I live for danger!”
“I know what an adrenaline junky is,” Bruce retorts. “How is it that you have read that book?”
“Like I said Mom spends most of her time at the office, I’ve read most of the books in her library,” Derrick answers as the waitress brings him his milk.
“You boys going for a hike?” the waitress asks, pointing to their backpacks on the benches next to them.
“We’re going on an adventure,” Derrick replies with an excited tone in his voice.
“I’ve had plenty of that of late with the strange weather we’ve been having the past months,” the waitress replies.
“Then you were here for the twister?” Derrick asks.
“Yep, strangest thing I ever did see, that one,” she answers.
“We were there too, Bruce here saved my life,” Derrick tells the woman.
“That is enough,” Bruce says, reaching to squeeze the boy’s forearm on the table.
“I thought you looked familiar,” the waitress says. “You were eating with that truck driver at the counter.” “I never forget a handsome young face.” Bruce simply smiles, blushing and nods as the waitress hears a bell that draws her to the kitchen.
“Let’s face it you can’t leave me here with my big mouth,” Derrick says, shrugging off Bruce’s hand from his arm. “I could tell everyone in this place what you did in that tornado.”
“I know what blackmail is too,” Bruce says, going back to his breakfast. “It’s illegal.”
“Yeah but I really want to go with you,” Derrick says. “I even brought Mom’s gun if you’re worried I could get hurt.”
Quality Inn
Room 145
1400 W. Liberty St.
Farmington, MO
Three guests have spent the night in this room for none of an unusual reasons. Each of them are the survivors of an alien creature known as a Bernr parasite. In the past month, each of them also survived a near fatal drug addiction that fed the parasite until it forever changed their genetics making them Zeni-humans. Each has developed a different power set that they owe to their benefactor Commander Edma.
Now two of them wait for the third to report back on their target. Even now all are eager to end their association with the alien Commander as one reports back to Edma. “Commander, we have news,” Craig Pitis explains over an alien communication device. “The target has been joined by a teen boy.” “They intend on hiking into the mountains in search of something.” Craig Pitis is a former car thief who joined the Military to escape his gang life on the streets of Chicago. His mother’s family had come to America from Venezuela and they were driven to succeed in their new country. It seemed that no matter how hard his single mother pushed him he did not have enough of that family drive to satisfy her. The Army seemed like the perfect place to escape but he soon discovered that the Military was not for him either. When he was given a dishonorable discharge he moved to St. Louis trying to build a new life for himself. He was on the verge of failure again, when Commander Edma offered him a way out.
“Excellent,” Commander Edma replies, “All of you keep close to them, when they find the ship take them out!”
“Yes Commander,” Craig replies, signing off the transmission. Craig gained two things in the Army one was his tightly trimmed haircut, that his black hair still has to this day and the other was the joy of giving others orders. “You heard the woman we need to follow them,” Craig demands, turning back to the bed where he believed the third member of his team was waiting. “Shit!” he exclaims hurrying across the room to the closed bathroom door. Barging into the small motel bathroom he finds it empty. Looking to the open window he knows what has happened. “That little bastard snuck out!” “He’s going to fuck up everything!” Craig runs out of the motel room door to the front parking lot. Then around the building finding no sign of the young man who is the third member of Commander Edma’s team. “FUCK!” he shouts standing in the back alley. “I’ll kill that little snot nose myself if he screws this up!”
TJ’s Truckstop Diner
4300 Showplace Dr
Farmington, MO 63640
Bruce and Derrick walk from the Diner still in disagreement over what will happen next. “How did you even get here?” Bruce asks aggressively.
“I took a taxi,” Derrick replies grinning.
“You did not have money to pay for that breakfast you ordered but you had money for a taxi?” Bruce retorts as he looks across the lot. In the truck parking there are several flatbeds loaded with big Earth moving equipment. On the side of the truck it reads Alameda International LTD, Construction Contracting Division.
“The taxi cost more than I anticipated,” Derrick explains as they walk toward Rt. 67.
“Alameda International LTD is that the same company that owns your mother’s publishing company?” Bruce asks, pointing to the trucks.
“Yeah, Howard Alameda owns hundreds of diverse businesses,” Derrick replies. “Some people say he is the richest man in the world, but not even the press can figure out his net worth.”
“Mr. Alameda is the man that brought your mother and I together,” Bruce mentions. “Strange that those construction vehicles would be here now.”
“Maybe it is a sign that we are to go together too,” Derrick teases.
“So what Armstrong, you’re this jerk’s friend now?” a voice calls from the parking lot behind them.
The two young men turn to see a third standing in the middle of the Truckstop parking lot. “Stan?” Derrick questions, confused by the presence of his friend. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to take payment for my car that this asshole wrecked!” Stan Fennimore replied angrily.
“You’re joking right, he saved our lives that night,” Derrick argues. “It was the storm that wrecked your car.”
“You boys figure this out, I need to go,” Bruce says, leaving them behind to continue walking toward the highway. Bruce makes haste figuring this is his way to dump the kid.
“Don’t turn your back on me asshole!” Stan Fennimore shouts, raising his right hand. The ground beneath their feet suddenly begins to tremble. Bruce stops in his tracks to look at the blacktop under his feet as it begins to crack open. Then back at the new arrival as sweat beads on his forehead.
“Holy shit!” Derrick shouts. “Stan, are you doing this?” Derrick turns to look at Bruce who is as surprised as he is when the ground under his feet explodes sending him high into the sky. Derrick runs toward his friend shouting, “Stan, what are you doing?” “Stop this!”
“If you are taking his side, then die at his side!” Stan growls in a low tone that Derrick has never heard him use before today. Stan turns his hand that now glows toward his former friend as he runs toward him. A large chunk of blacktop leaps up from the ground toward Derrick. As captain of the basketball team he is used to lunging for the ball. There is no ball as he dives for the parking lot. Derrick tumbles onto his shoulder tearing his shirt to scrape his skin. Using both hands Stan moves in for the kill, raising up a pillar of Earth from below the broken blacktop. It lurches up and then arches down toward the boy still laying on the ground.
Derrick Armstrong closes his eyes bracing for the impact, then there is nothing. The young man on the ground opens his eyes again to see Bruce standing over him, a foot on either side of his body. Bruce holds out his hand and the arch of dirt and rocks is turned, broken apart sent floating straight up into the sky. Bruce looks back to the boy on the ground to see that his shoulder is bleeding. “Did your friend always have this ability?”
“No, never,” Derrick replies, still a little in shock at the sight of what is happening. “I’ve know him since we were ten, he could barely skip a rock across the lake!”
“We’ve got to stop him, at this rate this place could be turned into the Grand Canyon of Missouri!” Bruce replies over the noise of the churning arch of Earth that he deflects skyward.
Derrick reaches for his backpack to retrieve his mother’s revolver. “NO!” Bruce shouts. “There has to be another way!” “If I could just redirect this ground he is churning up I could send it down onto him.”
“Why can’t you?” Derrick asks, “Do like you did with the tornado!”
“I can’t, all I can do is make things float, not control the air itself,” Bruce explains. “I was lifting the tornado by using the solid things inside it!”
Derrick thinks for a moment as he puts away the gun. “Dude, that is stupid!” “You were so controlling the air, how did you fly to the car if you weren’t controlling the air?”
It does sound stupid now that Derrick says it out loud, maybe he was controlling the air. Bruce raises his free hand to swirl it around at the floating dirt and stone. Soon a mini whirlwind is created that condenses the free floating dirt into a large mass. “Damn, I think it is working!” Bruce shouts in excitement looking back to the boy on the ground behind him.
Then moving his hand forward the wind pushes the weightless chunk of dirt and rocks over toward the unsuspecting Stan Fennimore. Bruce then releases the floating chunk from his power and it plummets downward. An instant before he is buried under tons of soil Stan ends his attack on Bruce to try to shield himself.
“Give me your arm,” Bruce says, reaching out to Derrick. The boy reaches up to have Bruce pull him up from the ground. Before Derrick can speak Bruce is carrying him as he runs down the edge of the highway. “It is clear that I can’t just leave you here now, you’re getting your wish.”
Derrick feels strange being carried by this man, but then he realizes the speed that they are moving. Then something else happens. “Holy Shit!” Derricks shouts as he looks down to see Bruce’s feet are no longer touching the ground. “Shit, we’re flying!”
“So we are, I guess you were right once I understood my power it was easier to control,” Bruce smiles at the boy. “This is really incredible isn’t it?”
“Where to now Superman?” Derrick jokes.
“I’m no Superman,” Bruce replies. “I’m going home.”
JULY 15, 1987
Dr. Bybo’s secret lab
Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
Dr. Bybo has had the Dameraxite ship in his lab for weeks now, only fully excavating it from the steel and concrete it was sealed a few days ago. He has spent the last twenty-four hours examining every aspect of the alien craft. It is clear to him that this craft was not built for interstellar travel, yet it still managed to make the trip here from light years away. Meticulously taking it apart piece by piece he has found that its power core of batteries is completely dead now, most likely have been for decades. Finding an appropriate way to recharge the batteries will be pivotal to further study.
Bybo is intrigued by every circuit, every intricate part of the ship. He has identified many of its systems, life support, navigation, and defenses, but there are systems missing from the ship like propulsion. Bybo can not figure out how this thing could have ever left the ground let alone traveled across space. More importantly there seems to be no main Core Processor for the ship. He has spent hours on that theory before deciding that the ship’s Mainframe computing core has been removed.
The book made no mention of anything like that happening. Bybo rereads the book written by Larry Stacey that he has used like a treasure map to find this alien ship to discover that there is not one sentence to suggest that the ship was not buried whole. Nor is there a mention of the small back up battery that has triggered a small blinking red light that does not concern the mad scientist as he watches it flash. It is a light that sends a signal to alert others who may have an interest in finding the ship. Others who are long dead in Bybo’s opinion.
It would appear to Bybo that to reactivate this ship, to truly see what it can do, he will have to find a new Mainframe core for it. He has been experimenting with a new process for years, perhaps it is time to use it on this alien ship to discover its true potential. He will need a human volunteer for the procedure, which will not be hard to find because everyone at his lab is completely dedicated to his cause.
Stepping out into the corridor of the underground base he spots the perfect volunteer. “Lt. Vasco, is it?” he calls to the six foot, four inch man who walks toward him. “Are you ready for your next step in service to the cause?” he asks.
“Yes Sir,” the large man replies with a salute.
“Right this way then son,” Dr Bybo says, leading the man back into his laboratory. The lab is littered with different parts of the Nanny-ship as the soldier enters, the dedicated man pays little attention as he watches Dr. Bybo clean a space on an examination table. Then the Asian man that everyone at the base follows blindly turns back to Lt. Vasco to say. “I will need you to remove all of your clothing and lie on this table.”
The obedient soldier doesn’t question his leader as he strips down to his underwear and shoulder holster. “I will need them to go too young man.” “Don’t worry when we are finished you will have a brand new set of weapons.” “Looking over the young man’s large muscular body, Bybo smiles, “Yes, you will do nicely.”
TJ’s Truckstop Diner
4300 Showplace Dr
Farmington, MO 63640
Craig Pitis and a petite young blonde woman stand at the front of the crowd that has been drawn to the area the Police and Firemen have taped off in the Truckstop parking lot. Her name is Caren Heinze and her anger over the events that have taken place shows just as clearly on her face as it does on Craig’s features. At the center of the torn up parking lot a large mound of dirt and rocks is piled. Most of the rest of the lot looks as if an Earthquake had hit it. The early hour has proven good for the fact that there were few people in the lot. Most of the witnesses to the battle really don’t even understand what happened.
“That little shit!” Caren complains. “I said, you should have let me wear him out last night!” “He would have still been asleep now!”
“Then he would have been of no use to us at all today!” Craig counters. “I think I’ve managed to wipe the memory of everyone who saw what happened here today.” “Any investigations should fall to only some strange natural phenomena.”
Pushing back through the crowd behind them Craig and Caren regroup away from the activity. Then not far away from where they stand the ground begins to tremble again. The grass parts as the dirt underneath pushes through to reveal a tunnel. Stan Fennimore climbs out from the hole, bruised and bloodied.
The oldest of the group, Craig stomps over to the young man who collapses to lay on the ground next to the tunnel. Craig grabs Stan by the arm, yanking him to his feet. “You Asshole!” Craig shouts in Stan’s face. “If I hadn’t been able to form a mental link with that boy before they fled we would have lost them completely!!” Craig throws Stan back to the ground in a heap.
Caren then moves in on the exhausted High School student. “If you screw up again, I’ll screw you so hard you will never wake up!” she says, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.
High in the Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
Derrick Armstrong follows Bruce through the woods up the mountain for what seems like miles. They have no compass or map, It is like Bruce knows every step he takes like the back of his hand. As they reach a thinning in the trees Derrick asks again, “Why couldn’t you just fly us up to this clearing over the top of the trees?”
“Because there would have still been too much wind flow,” Bruce replies. “This new power is still not fully under my control, I’m afraid it would have torn the tops of the trees off!” “We are almost there now.” They hike for about another fifteen minutes when they come upon a log cabin that was clearly built by hand.
“What is this place?” Derrick asks.
“It is home,” Bruce sighs, stopping to look at the cabin. It is just as he left it completely untouched by the outside world. “This is where I grew up,” he tells his traveling companion. “You’ll be safe here.”
Now it is Derrick who’s eyes scan the area around the old cabin in the forest. “This is the cabin from my father’s book?” he questions, spotting the old outhouse about fifty feet down the hill. “I can hardly wait to see inside, it looks just like it was described in the book!”
The two young men go into the cabin through the unlocked handmade wooden door. Inside it is one large room that smells of wood smoke and sweat. In the center of the room is an old wood stove with a large metal kettle on it. Off to one side there is a table with two chairs. On the back wall are cabinets for storage and counter space. Two hand made beds are on either side of the room placed under windows. Derrick rushes to the center of the room to look closer at the wood stove. “Is this where you first discovered you were unable to be burnt by fire?” he asks like a school boy in a museum for the first time.
“Yes, it is incredible how he described it in the book,” Bruce answers. “It happened just like that, I was about ten years old, loading wood into the stove when I realized I had been leaning against the hot stove when my shirt began to burn.”
Derrick looks at the two beds, one is much larger than the other. “That is where you slept as a child,” he says pointing to the smaller bed to the right of the room. “Your father built it when you were five and out grew your crib.” “He used the measurements of his own body to build the bed to size.” “Then when you got too big for that bed your father switched beds with you to give you the larger one over there,” Derrick says pointing to the bed on the left side of the room.
“It is like you were here when it all happened,” Bruce comments. “That is why I can’t understand what that was all about down at the Truckstop today.” “Everything your father wrote about my life happened just as he said until now.”
“You mean until you left here,” Derrick adds. “There is nothing in the book about you ever coming to St Louis.” Bruce knows he is right but it still confuses him. His father always spoke of how he would use his powers to be a hero, but he never told him how it would happen. If everything his father wrote after he left for St. Louis is different, is there even a mad scientist after his ship?
“Why don’t you take off your shirt and have a seat, so I can have a look at that arm. Derrick does as he is told and Bruce takes a wet towel to wipe away some of the dirt and stones in the wound. It is just a scrap and the blood has just begun to dry. “I think this will heal fine,” Bruce tells him.
“Did you ever get hurt?” Derrick asks, turning back to the wall with the door they entered the cabin through, “Those are your father’s diplomas.” Derrick says. “I remember how in the book it said that you would stare at them for hours as you laid in bed.” As Derrick jumps up from the chair to step closer to read the documents framed on the wall he is shocked by what he sees. “These are the diplomas of Lawrence Stacey!” he exclaims looking at Bruce. “How is that possible? He died before I was born!” Derrick Armstrong looks back at the documents on the wall, his mind racing with ideas. “Does that mean that he was your father, the man that raised you?” “He was living up here in this cabin for the past eighteen years?” He looks as if he is going to cry when he looks back at Bruce. “Did you know this all along?” Derrick sits back down in the chairs at the table shaken by this new information, trying to make sense of it in his head.
“I’m sorry Derrick, I didn’t know how to tell you,” Bruce says. “I actually didn’t even know you existed until yesterday when you answered the door at your mother’s house.” “In all truth I don’t even think Dad knew you were ever born.”
“Oh great!” Derrick shouts. “That makes everything better, my Mom has been lying to everyone!” Derrick looks at this big dumb guy who stands with an expression of pity in his eyes. “Look I need some time to figure this out, I’m going to go for a walk.”
“No, you need to stay here where it is safe, I will leave,” Bruce tells him. “I need to see if there really is a ship buried out there in the forest.” “Feel free to look around, most of the stuff here is your father’s.” Bruce says leaving the cabin. “I think he has an old shirt in that dresser, you can put it on if you want.”
Commander Edma’s stronghold
The warehouse District
St Louis, MO
“Commander!” Robert calls into the base wide communication system. “I have detected a Damerax distress beacon not far from here, in the mountains!”
“A Damerax distress beacon?” Edma replies when she manages to get to her communicator. “From what source?”
“I have run the frequency through all available data files to learn it is from something called a Nanny-ship,” Robert replies to his Commander who arrives in the control center.
“A Nanny-ship?” she questions looking over the specs displayed on the screen. “How is that possible, a Nanny-ship is little more than a toy.” “It is not capable of interstellar space travel!” “Pinpoint the location of this beacon. I want drones on it now!” “We need to know who has triggered the beacon!” “We need to find that Dameraxite before it can breed!”
“Breed, Commander?” Robert quizzes. “If there is only one Dameraxite left in the universe how can it breed?”
“Dameraxites are more than meets the eye!” Commander Edma charges. “Now get me drones in that location!”
A Log Cabin
High in the Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
Bruce returns to the cabin to find that Derrick has started a fire in the old stove. He wears an oversized flannel shirt. “Was my father a fat slob or what?” Derrick asks, holding the big shirt out from his thin body.
“Actually, that is my shirt,” Bruce replies. “Your father was thin like you, well muscled in his prime from all of the hard work we did around here.” “Until the end, the last year or so he lost most of his muscle.” “I picked up most of the heavy lifting jobs around here.”
“Oh.” “So what did you find?” Derrick asked, trying to change the subject. Bruce doesn’t reply. “I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Derrick says. “It was just a shock, I guess.” “While you were gone I realized it wasn’t your fault.” “Besides, this makes us brothers.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Bruce tells the young man as he walks to sit at the table. “I may have been raised by Larry Stacey, but he was not truly my father.”
“Yes, he was,” Derrick says, going to sit at the table. “He was nothing more than a sperm donor to me for whatever reason.” “He was a true father to you, don’t deny that.”
“Derrick, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Bruce says, looking the young man in the eye.
“I think it is time you call me Deke, all my friends do,” Derrick suggested. “Even the ones that try to kill me.”
“I’m so confused,” Bruce replies. “I thought I knew what I was meant to do.” “Now everything is falling apart.”
“What are you talking about?” Deke questions. “We have only begun this adventure.”
“We?” Bruce asks, suspecting that Deke is up to something again.
“I read it again,” Deke says, holding up the original manuscript titled “Lost Boy Found.”
“Where did you get that?” Bruce questions.
“It was here all along,” Deke replies. “I have something called a photographic memory,” he confesses. “In the book, the father had a secret hiding place.” “It was never revealed what was in that hiding place, so I looked.” “It was the first draft of the book.” “There was something else.” “In this original manuscript, after your twentieth birthday the wording of the book changes, the pronouns change.”
“What do you mean?” Bruce questions.
“Look here,” Deke says, flipping through the pages to one with a folded corner. “When you were twelve and floated up into the trees for the first time it says, ‘His father was so proud of what he was becoming, he could not bring himself to chastise the boy.'” “Then after your twentieth birthday it reads, ‘His guide in the world was sure this was the right path for him.'”
“Your point?” Bruce asks.
“I am your guide now, not Larry,” Deke explains.
“What is that?” Bruce asks, reaching for a piece of metal poking out of the binding of the book. He pulls it out of the manuscript’s binder.
Deke eyes the shard of metal as he asks, “So what happened, did you find the ship?”
“No, its gone, dug up,” Bruce explains. “Trees are uprooted all the way down the mountain, like a tank went through.”
“Then the scientist has the ship!” Deke exclaims reaching for the scrap of metal that Bruce holds in his hand. Deke suddenly gets a look of deep concentration on his face. “This is when you go to your mother’s grave.”
The two young men make their way through the forest to the grave sites not far from the house. Bruce looks to the rustically carved stone that marks his mother’s grave, next to where he buried his father.
“I assume that you haven’t given any thought to who is buried there?” Deke says as he tries to ignore his father’s grave. Deke falls to his knees on top of the grave, his hands digging into the dirt. “It’s here,” he says, sitting up to dig in his pant’s pocket to retrieve the scrap of metal from the book binding. “There isn’t a human body buried here, it is something else.”
Bruce sprints back to the tool shed by the cabin in two minutes flat. He returns with two shovels. “Then start digging!” Bruce announces tossing Deke a shovel.
Deke looks at the shovel and then down to the grave. “Can’t you just make the dirt float up into the sky like you did at the Truckstop?”
“My power doesn’t work like that, it only works on loose objects,” Bruce explains. “Once we loosen this up I might be able to use my power.” The young men begin to dig for a time turning over shovel after shovel.
“So what was he like?” Deke asks after a while as he takes a rest to lean on his shovel.
Bruce looks to the grave next to the one they dig in. “He was a smart man, a good teacher,” Bruce tells Deke. “He always pressed me to do better, he never wanted me to be a quitter.” “It was always a struggle for me to not give up when things went wrong the first time.” “I think he would have been proud of you.” “Like you, when I was ready to give up you pushed me to keep going.”
“How did he die?” Deke asks as he begins to dig again.
“In his sleep, I sat with him for hours hoping that he would wake up,” Bruce confesses. “In my heart I knew he was dead but I just couldn’t face it.” “Sit there waiting for him to breathe again, tell me it was a joke.” “Then when I accepted that wasn’t going to happen I made my plans to come to St. Louis.”
Then Deke’s shovel strikes something hard and metallic in the grave. “I think we’ve got something!” Deke scrapes the dirt from what appears to be the lid to a metal box.
“Here, get up out of the hole,” Bruce says as he reaches out to touch Deke’s shoulder as they float up the top edge of the hole.
“That is so cool,” Deke says as his feet touch back to the grass. He watches as Bruce reaches out now to the box top showing through the dirt. It trembles for a minute as it reaches up to pull free of the ground. As more of it emerges it is clear that it is no casket. “What is that?” Deke asks of the backpack shaped metal container that floats in front of them. Then Deke reaches to touch his hand out to it.
“No, don’t touch it!” Bruce shouts, “We don’t know if it is safe!” But his warning comes too late. Deke’s eyes glow for only a second before he falls back flat to the ground. The object they unearthed stuck to his hand.
JULY 16, 1987
Dr. Bybo’s secret lab
Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
What was once Lt. Dominic Vasco is gone now that Dr. Bybo has grafted most of the Nanny-ship to his body. The alien metal shell has become a full body armor of green and indigo. It has been a long and painful procedure as each piece has been added to his flesh. Never once did the trained soldier cry out in pain or resist as the alien circuitry burrowed under his skin to take root in his nervous system. The recipient of this sadistic gift has been left barely conscious and completely incoherent.
“Beautiful, simply beautiful,” Dr. Bybo mutters, giving no concern to the pain he has put the man through in the past hours. He examines his handy work, checking each graft to make sure there has been no rejection. Removing his handiwork now would be a messy endeavor, most likely tearing the man underneath flesh from his bones. Bybo moves to put the final piece to his puzzle, a green and indigo faceplate that fits completely over Vasco’s face giving him the look of an insect.
At the center of the faceplate between the dark bulging eyes the small red light still blinks. Dr. Bybo has determined the light to be a beacon of some sort but he cares not. By all of his research there is no longer anyone to answer that call. Yet there is still no sign of activity with his new creation. Perhaps, it will take a few hours for the alien armor to fully assimilate with the human host. There is one final addition as Dr. Bybo connects a low voltage cable his creation to perhaps stimulate some activity.
A Log Cabin
High in the Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
Derrick Armstrong lies unconscious on the smaller of the two beds in the log cabin. Over his chest the backpack sized alien metal box floats weightless, suspended by Null-force. Derrick’s right hand is attached to the side as if glued there. Then suddenly Deke wakes, he sits straight up shoving the box aside freeing his hand in one single movement. “Jesus Christ!” he exclaims.
“Thank God!” Bruce says hurrying to the bedside. “I was beginning to fear the worst.”
“How long was I out?” Deke asks.
“Eight hours or so, it is nearly 10 o’clock at night.” “When I tried to separate you from the box it caused an adverse reaction,” Bruce explains. “I couldn’t take you to a hospital, there would be too much to explain.”
“You don’t know the half of it!” Deke says, looking at the alien box now lying on the floor. “I know what it is,” Deke tells Bruce as he swings his feet over the side of the bed to the floor. “It is the Core Processor for the Nanny-ship!” “Your…Our father removed it from the ship before he sealed the ship in concrete to bury it.” “I think he hoped that by doing that it would change the plot of his book.”
“How could you know that?” Bruce asks, looking at the alien box from his home world on the floor. “Did it tell you that?”
“No, its battery is gone,” Deke replies, rubbing his head. “I don’t know how I know that, I just do.” “The moment I touched it the images, sounds, and even smells rushed to my senses.” “It was overpowering.” “More than before,” Deke says, taking the shard of metal that they found in the binding of the book from his pocket, “Like when I touched this, I knew the rest of it was hidden in the grave.” Deke walks over to the Core Processor on the floor. He cautiously reaches out to touch it, not wanting to get knocked unconscious again. This time there is no dramatic reaction as Deke picks up the alien processor. On the side there is a slot the same width and length as the metal shard he holds in his other hand. He looks to Bruce as he slides the shard inside the opening. Suddenly the dead device comes to life as it begins to hum softly. “I think that was the battery hidden in the book.”
“Here I don’t think you should be holding it when it comes online,” Bruce says, flicking his hand to use his Null-force to lift the Core Processor from Deke’s grip. The small device reacts to the Null-force as it begins to glow. “What is happening?” Bruce questions aloud.
“I think it is using your power to recharge itself,” Deke replies. “I think it is somehow connected to you, it always has been.” “Can you hear what it is saying?” “Does it make any sense to you?”
“I can’t hear anything, what are you talking about?” Bruce asks.
“You can’t hear that?” Deke says. “It sounds like ‘Scarab, Scarab’ over and over again.”
“You mean like the title of the first book?” Bruce wonders.
Deke is lost in thought for a minute then he remembers, “More like it can lead us to the rest of the ship.”
“No, you’ve been through enough,” Bruce tells his new friend. “You should stay here and rest.”
Meanwhile outside in the forest two men wait hidden in the trees. “Let me just level this old dump!” Stan Fennimore grumbles.
“If I see so much as a pebble roll, I will wipe your mind back to infancy!” Craig Pitis threatens.
Then there is a crunching of leaves and small sticks in front of them. The night air shimmers slightly as Caren Heinze becomes visible. “They’re both in there, looks like the younger one just woke up from a nap.” she tells her companions. “They also have some kind of box that keeps floating around the room.”
Just then the communicator in Craig’s pocket pulse. Pulling the small device from his pocket Craig responds, “Commander we have found them, they are held up in a cabin in the hills.”
Before Craig can finish his report Commander Edma gives him new orders, “Forget them!”
“What, we tracked them for hours up the side of a mountain!” Stan exclaims.
“They are no longer my primary concern!” Commander Edma responds. “I have located the distress beacon from the ship, it is about two miles east of your location.” “Drones have shown me the location is a military fortified outpost.” “Nothing the three of you can not handle, I want it destroyed!”
“What about the ship and these men we have been following?” Craig asks.
Commander Edma is clearly annoyed by all the questions she is getting about her orders, “Once you have leveled the base, killing everyone inside, you can return to mission.” “I want Cifredo, the man in charge there, dead!” “And if Fennimore goes off plan again, lobotomize him!” “I’m sending the location now!” “Edma out!”
Looking back to the small clearing, Stan Fennimore watches as Bruce Stacey leaves the old cabin, the strange alien device floating in front of him. It leads him off into the darkness of the forest. Stan wants nothing more than to bring every tree Bruce walks past down on top of him. But he knows that Craig can and will wipe his mind back to infancy if he steps out of line again. He has seen him do it. “Craig, can you get a lock on his brain yet?” Stan asks.
“No, I still can’t read him, it is like he doesn’t think the same way we do,” Stan replies. “His mind is all a jumble.”
Dr. Bybo’s secret lab
Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
“Scarab,” the word slips from the lips of the man sealed in the alien armor created from the Nanny-ship. The sound doesn’t travel beyond the confines of the green and indigo armor as he speaks the word again, “Scarab.” He is hearing the call in his mind that has been infused with alien technology.
Dr. Bybo stands in the corridor outside the lab discussing his plans with one of his men when the bright light shines through the small window in the door behind him. “What is this!” he exclaims, turning to fling open the door. He and the other man are blinded by the light from within for several minutes. When the light finally subsides they charge into the room, their eyes still filled with spots. “He is gone!” Bybo shouts. “I want this entire base searched for him now!” the angry scientist demands.
JULY 17, 1987
About 15 miles from the Log Cabin
High in the Taum Sauk Mountains
Arcadia Township, MO
Bruce has been following the Core Processor of the Nanny-ship for nearly an hour through the dark forest, its glow offering the only light to the path. If it were not for his Null-force he would be concerned that he is completely lost. The Dameraxite device appears to have harnessed his power to propel itself at a speed faster than a normal human could move. He still continually fuels it so if need be he could easily put an end to this adventure. Bruce has put quite a bit of blind faith in Deke’s words that the Core will lead him to the rest of the ship and he is not sure why.
The Core comes to an abrupt stop in the middle of nowhere. Then the light it admits grows brighter to illuminate a larger area. Bruce knows this place, he was here earlier today. It is the hole left behind when the Nanny-ship was unearthed. Why would this piece of junk bring him back here, the ship is clearly gone!
Then he hears something move in the darkness beyond the light of the Core Processor. The moon moves from under a cloud to shine down between the trees. Atop a tall mound of dirt a figure stands, a small red light flashing on its head. “Who are you?” Bruce calls out to the figure.
The response is only one word and it comes from the Core Processor, “Scarab!” The word triggers the figure to action as it springs down the hill of dirt toward Bruce.
This person is clearly a threat Bruce assesses. After only a day of using his Null-force to control the air. Bruce already acts out of instinct to wave his arm sending the Core Processor away, carried near weightless on a strong gust of wind. The figure moves faster than Bruce anticipated as he is on him in seconds. The light of the Core Processor is gone now but it takes Bruce’s eyes only seconds to adjust to the dark as he swings out with a right cross to make contact with his attacker. The aggressor is sent down into the pit dug deep into the forest floor.
Bruce draws back his hand, that was clearly metal he hit. Is this guy wearing some kind of armor? Looking over the edge of the pit he can not see anything. Until he is hit with a bright red energy blast that sends him hurtling back into the trees. Bruce sails for nearly a mile, helplessly shearing off thick tree trunks in his wake. The crack and crashing of hundred foot trees to the ground and each other echoes through the night.
Bruce finally crashes to the ground as well, only slightly disoriented. His Null-force has protected him from most of the impacts. He climbs back to his feet moving to return to battle to find the battle has come to him. The attacker speaks the word again, “Scarab,” as he floats forward into the light of the moon. It is the same word Deke told him the Core Processor said. Bruce can finally see the green and indigo armor. It is familiar to him like something out of a dream. Somehow this man is wearing the Nanny-ship. “Scarab!” the man shouted angrily.
Summoning his Null-force at maximum intent he takes hold of everyone of the fallen trees within reach to use as an attack. The large tree trucks take flight sailing like huge projectiles at their target. “Scarab,” the armored creature says as it raises a hand in defense, a sad attempt in Bruce’s eyes. Then there is a burst of yellow light between the Scarab and the logs. Instantly the log projectiles are gone.
Something deep in Bruce’s memory sparks at the sight of the yellow light burst. Bruce repels upward high into the treetops only seconds before the tree trunks reappear behind where he stood. Looking down at the armored figure, Bruce knows that was one of the powers of the ship that brought him to Earth. He remembers the flash light from before he was here. Somehow that same flash brought him to Earth. Whatever the Nanny-ship has become he is sure it is no longer his protector.
“Scarab!” it shouts again as it launches toward Bruce who hangs floating weightless just above the trees. Bruce isn’t sure what to do but he does not want to take a direct hit from this thing! He activates his Null-force again, but this time on himself. The cocoon of his power reaches out nearly a foot from his body, making it impossible for anything to touch him. Then he moves higher above the trees as the Scarab gives pursuit. Clear of the trees Bruce concentrates to summon the wind from higher up. The colder wind moves down causing a disturbance in the atmosphere that brings on a thunderstorm of dangerous proportions.
The electrical storm erupts upward at first due to the unnatural formation Bruce has caused. Then the alien metal of the Scarab draws the lightning to it like a magnet. Instantly the Scarab is electrified, drawing every bit of the charge from the atmosphere. Taking control of the wind again Bruce sweeps his foe upward into the center of the thunderhead. Nothing could survive that, he thinks. Bruce descends back to the ground to watch as his artificially created thunderstorm begins to settle as it is drained of its power. He stands watching, shielding his eyes as the rain pours down on him.
“Bruce!” a voice calls from the darkness of the forest. “Bruce,” the panting voice calls again as Deke emerges through the trees. He carries with him the glowing Core Processor that cast light onto his face. “Help me, it is getting heavier!”
“Deke, what are you doing here and with that?” Bruce calls out as the rain slows.
“It is the key,” Deke says, dropping the Core Processor to the ground as it becomes too heavy to hold. The light dims as the last of the Null-force fades. “It is the only thing that can stop him!”
Suddenly bolts of red energy strike down from above at them. Bruce glides across the cleared ground to where Deke is huddled at the edge of the trees. “How can you know that,” he questions as he comes to a kneeling position next to Deke.
“I don’t know, I just do!” Deke replies as the sky glows red. “You need to unite it with the rest of the ship.” The two young men look up to the night sky that now burns bright with the fireball that was Scarab. The blasts of energy that rain down on the forest are igniting the dry brush all around them.
“I can’t just leave you here, the fire is growing,” Bruce says, frightened for his new friend.
“It is only going to get worse if you don’t stop that thing!” Deke argues.
“Wait, there might be a way,” Bruce says as he extinguishes the Null-force that protects him. He can feel the heat of the expanding fire for the first time when he hurriedly tells Deke, “Get on my back!”
“What?” Deke shouts.
“Shut up for once and just do it!” Bruce demands. “Get on my back!” Deke finally does as he is told for perhaps the first time in years as he climbs onto Bruce’s back putting his arms around the larger man’s neck. “Put your legs around my waist, hold tight,” Bruce instructs. “I’m going to turn my Null-force back on. It feels like a shock of static electricity as the Null-force cocoons them both. “Can you feel the heat now?” Bruce asks over his shoulder, his lips almost touching Deke’s cheek.
“No, that is amazing!” Deke replies. “Now let’s go get that bastard!” Bruce bends over while carrying his unwanted sidekick to pick up the Core Processor. They begin to float up into the sky toward the glowing red ball of light and electricity. Bruce uses the softest of winds now to guide them to their target. “The Core will connect to its back,” Deke instructs in Bruce’s ear.
Bruce doesn’t even bother to question how Deke knows these things anymore, there is no time. If he doesn’t end this and do something about the fire below it will soon rage out of control. Bruce thickens his Null-force shield as he moves closer to the ball of light. He can’t even see the form inside. The ball of light must be twenty yards across and as the two men move into it they begin to feel the heat. The sweat on Deke’s hands begins to loosen his grip. “I need to thicken the layer,” Bruce warns over his shoulder. Their bodies pressed so tightly together Bruce can feel as Deke’s breathing becomes labored. The thicker his shield the more pressure it puts on them inside it. Bruce can withstand the pressure but Deke’s smaller human body will feel the toll of it.
As they move further into the bubble of light Bruce can at last see the figure at its center. The closer they get the hotter it becomes, he dare not increase his power anymore. “Just do what you must, don’t worry about me!” Deke says in a heroic whisper as Bruce is sure he will pass out soon.
They are close enough now for Bruce to see Scarab clearly. The armored man appears completely incoherent as the electricity from the storm surges off of him. Managing to glide around the figure Bruce reaches the Core Processor forward to make contact with a calamitous effect. Once attracted the Core Processor instantly recharges from the electricity sending the excess back into the sky. Bruce and Deke are shielded from the electrical charge but the force of the blast still sends them sailing for miles through the sky.
When Bruce is finally able to regain control when they are safely away from Scarab and the fire. Bruce looks back to Scarab seeing a blinding flash of yellow light and Scarab is gone. Bruce feels Deke’s hands fall free from his neck. “Oh no,” he mumbled as he quickly descended to the ground to release Deke from within his protective Null-force. Bruce turns to catch the young man as he crumbles toward the grass. “Deke!” he shouts, “Can you hear me?” There is no response as he lays his new friend to the ground. He tries lightly slapping the kid’s face like he saw in an old black and white movie he watched weeks ago. “Deke, Deke, Derrick can you hear me?” he shouts some more. There was something else he saw in a movie, he needed to breathe for the young man. Bruce isn’t sure what he is doing as he pinches Deke’s nose shut and leans forward.
“Get away, man,” Deke gasps, waking to push Bruce back. “I can hear you!” “There is no need for you to do that!” Deke sits up holding his head, “Where are we, where is Scarab?”
“He’s gone,” Bruce answers. “But the fire is still spreading.” “I need to figure out a way to stop it,”
“That’s easy, a tornado,” Deke says. A tornado, Bruce thinks, he has managed to control two of them and it was not an easy thing to do. To create one would just be stupid. Deke can tell from the look on Bruce’s face that he doesn’t like the idea. “Not a big one, just one big enough to pull away all of the oxygen that is feeding the fire,” Deke explains. “After all you did create that thunderstorm, didn’t you?”
“To be honest, that was an accident, I was only trying to use the cold air to freeze Scarab,” Bruce tells Deke with some embarrassment.
“Then this should be easy, just get above the fire and pull in the air from two directions to spin counter clockwise,” Deke explains, his breathing finally returning to normal.
Monday, September 14, 1987
Bruce Stacey’s home
Lindell Terrace Condominiums
4501 Lindell Blvd
St. Louis, MO
Bruce wakes up to the sound of his radio on the alarm clock just like every other morning. “It was an incredible sight to see,” the announcer on the all News station says. “This morning high over Philadelphia the man who has become known as the hometown hero, Master Warrior, did battle on both the street and in the air with a man dressed in a black catsuit.” Reports from a local affiliate say that the hero collided with their copter, before launching back into the sky to go after the man who splashed down in the Schuylkill River.”
The urge comes over Bruce suddenly as he springs from the bed toward the bathroom to remember that the plumber isn’t coming until later this afternoon. Hurrying from his room to the bathroom in the hall he throws open the door to the bathroom. Bruce’s unwanted roommate, Phil, is in the shower when Bruce barges in. “Hey, I’m taking a shower!” Phil calls looking from behind the curtain to see Bruce standing at the toilet.
“I need to have a piss!” Bruce replies over his shoulder. Phil can’t help but watch as Bruce pees with both hands in front of him. Phil watches between the man’s legs as two streams of urine flow to the toilet bowl. He too has read the original manuscript written by Larry Stacey. All that he has suspected since Bruce disappeared weeks back are true!
Phil turns off the water to reach for a towel. He opens the curtain as Bruce continues to stand with his back to him. Phil steps out of the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist to step up next to the man at the toilet to be sure of his suspicions. He breaks the unspoken gentlemen’s code to stare in amazement at what he witnesses. So you are the boy from space your Larry Stacey wrote about in his book,” Phil says.
It is too late for Bruce to hide and he doesn’t really see a reason to anymore. His two penises are out of the bag now for sure. “I guess you were bound to find out sooner or later,” Bruce says, shaking and tucking his dicks away. “I suppose you want to know the whole story.”
“There is no need for that,” Phil says, taking another towel to dry his hair and chest. “Mr. Alameda has supplied me with all the information I need.” “He also has a gift for you when the time is right.” Phil throws the second towel over the shower rail. “Am I right to assume you have fulfilled the first part of your destiny from the book?”
“I found the Nanny-ship if that is what you are asking, but no mad scientist,” Bruce explains. “But what does Mr. Alameda know of it?”
“Mr. Alameda is aware of many things, that is why he had those contractors at the Truckstop,” Phil explains. “He made sure that everything was put back as it was after your battle.”
“I had heard that someone was paying to clean up things that happened with Superheroes,” Bruce comments following Phil from the bathroom back to his bedroom.
Phil reaches up into his closet almost losing his towel as he takes down a large box. He places the box on the bed, the top of it reads. “Madison Custom Clothing.” “Mr. Alameda had this made for you using the measurements the tailor took when you first arrived.”
Bruce opens the box. Inside is a red and gray suit, the fabric is like nothing else he has seen before today. He lifts the gray shirt from the box, under it dark red pants rest. “What is this for?” Bruce asks.
“I have noticed your interest in Master Warrior and Sentry, do I really have to explain for you what you are to use this suit,” Phil says as he starts to get dressed. “Try it on, I’m sure it will fit perfectly.” “Even with your extra part.”
Bruce pulls on the shirt and pants to find a red mask, gloves, and gray boots under them. Lastly he pulls on the mask over his head. He moves to look at himself in a full length mirror on Phil’s bedroom wall. On the chest of the shirt is a design that resembles a large “O”. “What am I meant to call myself?”
“I guess that is completely up to you,” Phil says as he ties his always present necktie.
Friday, October 2, 1987
The Armstrong household
2924 Sutton Blvd.
Maplewood, MO
Derrick Armstrong struggles with his Calculus homework in his room. He is in the top of his senior class but he is still bored by the work and studying it takes to stay there. He thinks about the adventure he had with Bruce last summer often. He wishes he could live that life all the time. It has been months since he has heard from Bruce, he blames his mother for that.
After his adventure with Bruce, Derrick was grounded for the rest of the summer. He became a prisoner of his own home. For the first month he was angry at her for all of the lies about his father. After a month he put that aside trying to understand how his mother felt about him going into the mountains with a man she considers to be an alien threat. She doesn’t understand the role he plays, the course his father has set for him. Derrick even tried to get his mother to see what he did in Larry Stacey’s book. doing that only made her angrier that he had read the book. He will be eighteen in a month, then he will have more say in his life if she likes it or not.
Derrick’s train of thought is broken when he hears a tapping on his window. He looks over to see a masked face peeking in. He should probably be startled but he isn’t as he rushes to the window to open it. Leaning out he discovers a masked man dressed in a gray and red suit floating not far from the edge of the porch roof. “Holy Shit!” he exclaims. “Bruce is that you?”
“Who else would it be, Santa Claus?” the man replies. “Can I come in to talk?”
“Hell yeah!” Derrick replies enthusiastically. The masked man floats toward the window to glide inside bringing with him some of the crisp October air. “Look at you,” Derrick marvels as he walks around the costumed man standing in his bedroom to take him all in. “Where did you get that suit?”
“It’s a long story but I came to you because I need your help,” Bruce says, turning to follow Derrick as he walks around him.
“What does the ‘O’ stand for?” Derrick asked, pointing to the costumed man’s chest.
“Deke focus, I came here because you are meant to be my guide and I need some guidance now,” Bruce demands. Believing he has got his friend’s attention Bruce continues. “Your friend that attacked us at the Truckstop, have you seen him?”
“Who is Stan?” “Not since that day, he never showed up at school when it started last month either,” Derrick explains. “Talk around school is he ran away and his mother has hired a P.I. to find him.”
“That is what I intend to do too, his power is far too dangerous to let running around free,” Bruce explains.
“What are we Batman and Robin?” Deke quips. “We can’t hunt down an angry guy with super powers!” “If you want to use your powers to help people, be a superhero, you need to start small.” “Save a few cats out of trees, catch a burglar, or a helicopter falling off a roof,” Deke suggests. “How about Omni-man!?”
Ignoring the name suggestion Bruce counters, “What if Stan hurts someone else while I’m saving cats?”
“That is the beauty of it, he only wants you!” Deke explains. “If you make a name for yourself on the News, he will come right to you!” “I can hear it now, Olympian saves the city from Earthquaking teen!”
“Olympian?” Bruce repeats.
“Yeah, like the Olympian gods, your powers are kind of godly,” Deke tells him.
“I like the name but it sounds… a little pompous.” Bruce suggests.
Tuesday, October 20, 1987
Bruce Stacey’s home
Lindell Terrace Condominiums
4501 Lindell Blvd
St. Louis, MO
Bruce Stacey is up early and he is eager to catch the 6 am News. He slaps together some breakfast to plop down on the couch in front of the TV switching it on. “Our own local hero has made his third appearance in less than a week,” the reporter opens the Newscast. “He calls himself Olympian, it was around 7 pm last evening that he put his skills to use again, ending a standoff between St. Louis Police and a bank robbery gone wrong.” “Last Wednesday as you may recall, Olympian saved a woman and her infant from a near fatal car accident.” “Most amazingly Olympian saved a small plane from colliding with the Gateway Arch.”
Then Bruce’s star is quickly dropped as the News cast changes direction. “Breaking News from the East coast we have a live feed of Philadelphia’s resident hero Master Warrior in what may be the largest in scale destruction of public property to date.” Bruce’s eyes are pinned to the live broadcast of Master Warrior fighting a Cyclops in Center City Philadelphia. The camera pans the city street as the reporter’s voice over describes it. “The damage is in the millions as the injured are taken from the scene.” “There has not been a way to calculate the loss of life yet.” “But there have been several deaths reported.” “It all began an hour ago when the monster appeared snatching up a SEPTA bus over its head bellowing for the resident hero, Master Warrior.” About thirty minutes ago Master Warrior did arrive on the scene just as he did previously when a Cyclops appeared.” “On that occasion Master Warrior dispatched the monster quickly with little damage.” “This time he does not appear to be fairing as well.”
Then the camera zooms in on Master Warrior as he lays on what remains of a trash truck. Even through Master Warrior’s disguise Bruce can see the pain and blood on the hero’s badly beaten face. “Master Warrior has taken a beating that no normal man could have survived,” the report says with sadness in his voice. “We can only pray that he can defeat this monster before succumbing to his own injuries.”
Bruce has come to idolize Master Warrior to some extent these past months. “Wherever that monster came from it is clear that Master Warrior has met his match. Bruce now has an overwhelming urge, “I need to get there!” He announces to Phil as he walks into the room.
“Get where?” Phil asks with a questioning look on his face.
“To Philadelphia!” Bruce replies running to his bedroom to change. “I need to help Master Warrior!”