Finally collected and proofed this story...

In the late 1950s, a new super team appeared on Earth 2 - Team Justice (www.5earths.info/earth-2/showcase-e2-teamjustice-tp1959/). The most mysterious member was the shape-changer, Enigma. Very little is known about this hero… until now!

Prologue

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to Civic City, January 1, 1951," the robot tour guide on the big tour bus from the 31st centruy droned over the internal PA system. Various display screens hung throughout the bus displayed numerous colorful scenes of the city as she spoke. Statues of men on horses, a man standing on top of a tower, a very large bell with a crack in it, several churches, a waterfront with a docked wooden sailing ship, a street filled with people dressed in outlandish costumes. The guide continued:

"The city has a population of over 7 million residents, and today the population is swelled by almost another half a million as out of town visitors flock to see the city welcome the New Year with the traditional Mummer's Parade. As you can see, thousands of people dress in costumes and frolic on the city's main streets. This tradition began informally the 1800s. 51 years ago today, in 1900, the Mummer's parade became an official City-sponsored event." The monitors flickered, and the city scenes were replaced by a schedule. "We will be leaving for our next destination promptly at 4:30; if you aren't back by then, you risk being stranded here in the past. For those of you who prefer to stay with the bus, entertainment, including a virtuality tour of Civic City, along with refreshments will be provided."

Perhaps half the tourists left the bus. A tall, distinguished-looking, well-dressed gentleman with white hair and a mustache glanced at a scrap of paper in his hand. The time travel method that had been used to send the bus and tourists here from the future had the side effect of removing their memories of future events that might allow them to alter that very future, but he'd found an ingenious method to send himself a message through time. He read the message, then turned purposefully towards the center of the city. As he strode away, another man, smaller, with receding brown hair and wearing a garish sports jacket, approached him. After a brief conversation, the two men from the future walked off together.

For a while they were trailed by an attractive girl with short, blonde hair, probably around 19, who had been seated next to the white-haired man on the bus. After a few paces, she hesitated, looked doubtfully back at the big, sleek, streamlined light green tour bus, so much more modern in appearance than the vehicles that were passing her on the street, and finally shook her head. When she turned back, the two men she had been following were out of sight. She stood uncertainly, unsure of what to do.

A couple of girls had been watching from a narrow side street, and they now walked up to the tourist. They both seemed to be about the same age as the tourist, and the newcomers were both gaudily dressed and heavily made up.

"Hey, honey, ya lost?" one of them asked, a brunette. "Ya look like yer sugar-daddy just left ya."

"I'm not really lost," she replied. "I was just hoping to watch the parade with... er..." she realized she didn't know the names of either of the two she'd been following. "those two men. I'm from out of town, and they're the only 2 people I know in Civic City."

"I'm Ruby and she's Trixie. Now ya know us - so you'se can go ta the parade wit us, huh?. Let's go!" said the other, a woman with straight black hair and a narrow face. "What's yer name? Where ya from?"

The tourist realized that she didn't know this information, but she quickly remembered that the tour company had made provisions to help her in spots like this, when time travel impaired her memory of the future. She touched a ring on her left hand with a finger from her right, and words appeared in her mind. "I'm Hope Hazard from Radiance, Pennsylvania," she told her new friends. She didn't know what to say next, but she didn't have to say anything; Trixie grabbed her arm and dragged her off towards the center of the city.

Message From the Future

The two men from the future quickly invaded radio station WXYZ and stole the cash prize for the special New Year's edition of the Barrel O'Gold game show, more than a quarter of a million dollars. The station was only a few blocks from the secret headquarters of the Justice Society, and the JSA quickly apprehended the thieves. They were stunned to discover that the thieves were tourists from the future, one of them was not even human, and that the robbery was part of a plan to get their attention.

Human civilization in the 31st century was in danger from an alien species called the Chameleons, who could assume any form. The Chameleons were using their power to loot the rich human society of the time, and humanity had been at peace for so long that no one knew how to stop them. Professor Canfield Ellery, the leading historian of the 31st century, had purchased a ticket on a time tour bus with the express purpose of delivering an encoded message to the JSA pleading for their help. The man with him turned out to be a disguised shape-shifting Chameleon named Chogpu, a secret agent who reported directly to the Chameleon Chief, Knelo, and whose mission in the past was to prevent Professor Ellery from contacting the Justice Society.

The JSA managed to decode the message, and in spite of Chogpu's interference, they were able to return to the future with the tour bus. In an adventure called 'The Day the World Ended' (see All Star Comics #56, January 1951), the JSA drove every Chameleon remaining on Earth in the 31st century into deep space and insured that they wouldn't return for at least a thousand years. Thanks to the side effect of the time travel process, when they were returned to the past, though they remembered encountering Ellery and leaving for their time trip, they had no recollection of their actual adventure in the future. And no one, either in the present or the future, realized that one passenger of the tour bus was left behind.

Incident in the Slum

Ruby, or maybe it was Trixie, had suggested that the three gals stop at a bar after the parade and have a few drinks to 'welcome in the New Year'. Hope had been surprised at how quickly the first drink started to affect her, and then she awakened in a totally different environment.

She felt awful, as if she had been severely beaten, and the room around her seemed to be spinning, and she felt a chill that caused her to shiver uncontrollably. There was a taste in her mouth worse than anything she could remember, and wherever she was, the place smelled so bad she was gagging as she tried to breath. She was lying on an uncomfortably lumpy surface, and the blanket covering her was soaked. Someone was moaning pitifully; she realized it was her own voice.

"About time you f*(#!n woke up, b!#(h!" an angry, masculine voice barked at her. "Better get up - you gonna have to make a bundle today to pay me back for the doc I brought in here for you." The speaker was big, blonde and rugged looking, wearing white pants and a shiny red shirt. His face was all planes and angles, and the rage that currently showed in his expression fitted the face perfectly. He pulled on a pair of white gloves, then reached out and roughly pulled her into a sitting position "Hurry up, b!#(h, this ain't no f*(#!n charity."

"Who are you?" she managed to stammer. Her mind wasn't working too well, yet, and being battered wasn't helping her think more clearly.

"I'm the boss here, b!#(h!" he screeched "And you had better f*(#!n learn that in a m*%#@r f*(#!n hurry." He hit her across the mouth, a vicious backhand blow.

She shook her head, spraying spittle and blood, but the blow actually helped clear her mind a little. He didn't notice, right away, that her blood wasn't red. "You really have a very limited vocabulary, don't you?" she asked coldly. She was astonished at how suddenly her fear had vanished, replaced by a fast-growing rage.

He didn't have any idea what she'd just said, but he knew that tone. She needed another lesson. He slammed another blow at her head, this time a solid punch at her jaw, rather than a backhand slap. He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to bruise her face, but it really didn't matter all that much - he knew some guys who would even pay a little extra for a banged-up b!#(h.

And then he was screaming! Before his hand reached her head, her face... changed! Her head grew longer, sprouting pointed ears, and she wasn't a battered human girl any longer, she was a monster - a monster with a wide open mouth with more teeth than a shark, and she chomped her mouth shut, and he started screaming as the pain hit. She shook her head twice to tear his hand free, ignoring his terrified screaming, then spit hard directly into his face, and his own fist bloodied his nose, and somehow, the last thing he ever noticed was that it was covered in green goo, and then he passed out due to the pain and his falling blood pressure.

He was lying in a puddle of congealed blood, his body cold and stiff by the time Trixie and Ruby found him. They didn't even bother calling the police - just took all the cash they could find and caught the first train out of town. The next girl back stayed around long enough to remove his gold necklace before she torched the place and then headed for the bus station. Her take for the evening was enough to get her home to Needles Point, Arizona, and she vowed she'd never leave Needles Point again.

Nobody really cared that a condemned building in the Civic City slum burned down, and nobody tried too hard to identify the body. Based on the neighborhood, anybody could guess what he'd been doing there, and who cared about a pimp whose girls had finally wised up? The JSA never related the death to their latest case - and nobody ever realized that a fugitive 30th century Chameleon was now loose in the United States in 1951...

Radiance, PA

On the bus ride to Radiance, Hope spent a lot of time reflecting about her current situation. Though she didn't know it, the knockout drug she'd been given by Ruby and Trixie had reacted synergistically with her alien physiology and the memory loss treatment by the tour bus company to remove even more of her memories: she no longer remembered that she came from the future, or that she was a Chameleon. She realized that she wasn't quite human, as the people around her defined human, but that didn't bother her; it was normal for her. She nervously twisted her ring, and she was reassured - the tour company had programmed that ring with the 1950 Encyclopedia Britannica and other relevant information, and each time she activated it, a little more of that knowledge was imperceptibly transferred to her brain.

The tour company had also provided her with another very subtle survival tool. In her purse was a small device that used dirt, dust, lint and atmospheric impurities to synthesize mileu-specific currency. Not enough to affect the economy and thus alter history, but a few coins and bills a day. The device would only work for her - if she failed to handle her purse for 48 hours, it would stop until she picked up the purse again, and it would vaporize if anyone tried to take it apart. She wouldn't get rich by saving up the cash the device made, but it was enough to keep her from going hungry. Each time she used her ring, she received a subliminal message reminding her that it wasn't unusual that her purse was never empty, and that she should keep this capability a secret.

"Welcome to Radiance, Pennsylvania's largest port!" she read from a billboard as they came over a small hill. She could see the whole city, and beyond the city, Lake Erie.

'As far as I can tell, I've never seen this place before!'

She twisted her ring nervously again, which didn't help her remember the view, but the next time she saw a street sign, she was able to match the streets around her with the map in her head. She knew exactly where she was - and yet she knew nothing about her surroundings! The home address she remembered was several miles outside of town to the west; she decided to spend the night in a hotel and go look for her home tomorrow. She was only vaguely curious about her homestead; she felt no urgency to locate her family. She had the feeling that she didn't have a family to locate..

The next morning, she discovered that her feeling was correct; the address she remembered had been an orphanage which had burned to the ground four years ago, and all records had been destroyed. She wasn't upset; she'd already come to the conclusion that she was on her own - and that she had been on her own pretty much her entire life. It was time to stop looking for clues to a past that she seemed to have lost, and start building a future that she would want to keep.

A few months after she arrived in Radiance, Hope sat at a too-small desk in an elementary school classroom, surrounded by a dozen other women, most of whom appeared to not be too many years from thirty, one way or the other. Some were nervous, while others were seemingly serene. A few were silent, while others chattered like irate squirrels. A few, like Hope, studied their scripts. They were all aspiring amateur actresses waiting for their auditions for the production of a new play, Pat Parker, War Nurse, by the Radiance Irregular Theatre Ensemble.

Almost everyone remembered the Pat Parker, War Nurse comic that had been popular during World War II; relatively few people knew that during the war, there really had been a Captain Pat Parker, a nurse in Britain's Royal Air Force. Many of her comic book adventures were based on the exploits of the real Pat, though the stories were usually greatly exaggerated. The play had been written by local playwright P. Eric Schwartz, who was also directing the initial production. Schwartz was hoping that people's memories of the comic book would make it a good draw, and that he would get some good reviews in the local press as well as increased regional exposure.

Though Hope had (probably; she couldn't remember) never performed on stage before, she felt no anxiety about playing a role in front of an audience, and she'd decided to audition for the lead. She'd spent some time studying Pat Parker, and thought she was ready to 'be' the War Nurse. And, after sitting in this crowded classroom for a couple hours poring over the audition script, she knew her lines by heart.

'What an interesting expression,' the thought popped into her mind. 'Shouldn't it be 'I know my lines by brain?'' She chuckled, and realized with satisfaction that neither the thought or the chuckle belonged to her - they both came from the Pat Parker persona she was striving to project.

It's Not Easy, Being From the Future!

After she'd realized that her past was a dead end, Hope had looked for a job. She'd read the Want Ads in the Radiance Sentinel and quickly realized that she didn't have many useful skills. She'd applied as a history teacher at one of the city's high schools, and though she had impressed the principal with seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of history, she'd been passed over because she had no teaching experience and no credentials. After a week of searching, she'd settled for a job washing dishes on the late shift at a diner not far from her rooming house. She could learn other skills by observation, and she was sure she would have a better job within months.

She didn't last long at the diner. The other members of the night staff didn't like her; one quiet shift she'd overheard them talking about her.

"She works too hard; it makes the rest of us look bad!" one of the busboys said. "I can't even take a short break when she's working or the boss comments on it." His shift usually consisted of a series of short breaks, and he always left an hour early and had his girlfriend, one of the waitresses, punch out his time card at closing time.

"She's weird - don't sweat none in da hot kitchen," said one of the cooks. His face was glistening, and he regularly used a half dozen hand towels during his shift keeping his hands and face dry.

"Neber wears glubs when she does da dishes, but 'er hands er always perfekt. I alwuys wear heaby rubba glubs, I only do half da dishes dat she does, und I spend un hour ever night after work puttin' lotion on my hands," complained another dishwasher. She held up her red, scaly hands for comparison. It was an occupational hazard of washing dishes.

"Don't talk much," said a waitress, who usually spent about half of her shift talking to anyone who would listen, complaining about her husband and gossiping about everyone else. "And always pertends how smart she is." She tried to imitate Hope's voice: "It's always: 'How do you think North Korleena's new statehood affects the rest of Saudi Asia?' she asks. Or, 'How will the convention of the tan sisters affect our everyday lives?'"

She stopped and laughed condescendingly. "She ain't so smart. Everbody knows North Korleena, and South Korleena too, are both down south, not in Asia, and they been states for hundreds'a years, and that nuns wear black, not tan, even when they're in their private rooms back at their conventions!" She crossed her arms and nodded her head sharply once. "What's she think, I'm an Eeyore anus?" All her listeners nodded their heads as though what she said was gospel.

A couple of days later, the boss called her into his office, a small room just off the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Hope, but I've got to let you go. Don't think it's because of your work," he said, unhappily, "because it's not. You're my best worker, one of the best I've ever hired, but the rest of the staff has threatened to quit if I keep you on. While I hate to lose you, I can't afford the time it would take to hire and train a whole new staff. Though I admit, it _is_ tempting with that crew."

Hope started to stand, but he motioned for her to remain seated. He had paused, not quite sure how to phrase his next thought, then continued, his tone apologetic. "Don't take this the wrong way because it's not your fault, but you _are_ disruptive. That's the best way I can put it. You don't seem to have much use for your fellow co-workers and they can sense it. Whether or not you actually like other people, you should at least learn to act like you do."

"Learn to act like you do," - the words resonated in Hope's mind. She recalled them again the next day as she paged through the Sentinel on her way to the Help Wanted ads. A half page notice caught her eye, an announcement of upcoming theatrical auditions. Next week, the Radiance Irregular Theatre Ensemble was going to begin production of a new play, Pat Parker, War Nurse.

Reading the notice awakened a part of her mind that insisted that Hope would be a superb actress, able to adopt the persona of someone else, and convincingly 'be' that person. But it told her that she had to 'know' her model to be that convincing. Since she couldn't study Pat Parker in person, she would have to use alternate methods. She was going to be busy for the next week!

Becoming Pat Parker

Hope's research included visiting the library, scouring the city's second-hand stores for used comic books, and spending a day at the public hospital.

At the Radiance Public Library, the librarian helped Hope find three references to Pat Parker: an interview in the Stars and Stripes newspaper; a picture in feature article in a wartime issue of Esquire feature "The Girls We're Fighting For" (Pat was wearing her skimpy heroic costume in a typical cheesecake pose), and a brief mention in a Life article about a USO tour visit to London, featuring Bob Hope plus Wildcat and the Atom of the Justice Society of America.

There were a dozen second-hand stores listed in the Radiance Yellow Pages, and Hope spent a couple of days visiting them all. She ended up with a half dozen well-thumbed issues of the War Nurse comic. Most of the stories weren't really believable, but she could see that some of the stories were based on events Pat talked about in the Stars and Stripes interview.

Hope spent the last day before the auditions at the Ray of Hope Hospital in downtown Radiance. Using her powers to assume the appearance of people who worked the hospital, it was easy to sneak and snoop around the hospital unnoticed. In fact, she found it quite enjoyable and she had the distinct impression that she'd done this kind of thing before, though she couldn't remember it. 'Was I a spy?' she wondered?

She'd spent several hours in close proximity to Isabela Hardy, the assertive, compassionate Supervisor of Nurses, including secretly assuming her form. In some manner she couldn't describe, Hope knew she was 'absorbing' and memorizing the woman's unique aura. Isabela wasn't Pat Parker, but Hope would blend what she'd learned through reading with the memorized essence of Isabela, and that might be enough to get her the part.

The Play is a Hit!

Excerpted from the Radiance Sentinel Theater Review of the opening night performance of Pat Parker, War Nurse:

"War Nurse is well written, impudent and bold, a black comedy that satirizes the glorification of war with bite and sass exactly appropriate for today's war-weary society. This is a play not just for the theatre fan, but for everyman."

"Hope Hazard's performance as Pat Parker is beyond uniquely wonderful. Her voice is slow and detailed and her facial expressions are equally impressive in their versatility. She believes in her character, and she seems to think that she actually IS her character, and the result is a scintillating, incredibly believable and sympathetic performance not usually seen this far from the New York stage. Hazard has a bright future in theatre, a future that should quickly see her on Broadway."

Lauren Emerson

Finally, a Job

Morris Wall, the Publisher of the Radiance Sentinel, was a supporter of the Radiance Irregular Theatre Ensemble. He was impressed with Hope's work ethic during rehearsals and her superb performance on stage. When he discovered that she was looking for a job, he hired her as a receptionist, so she didn't have to go back to washing dishes. When she first started working at the paper, she allowed a lot of Pat's personality to come out, but she soon realized that Mr. Wall hadn't intended to hire Pat Powers. Pat was too assertive and independent to be a secretary who sat at a desk all day and handled routine duties. Hope had to tone down Pat's contribution to her personality, but she kept Pat close by and often 'asked her advice'.

Hope Makes a Friend

A young man entered the reception room and walked confidently up to Hope's desk. She had never met him before, but he spoke to her in a friendly manner. "Miss Hazard, please tell Mr. Wall that Tom Rogers of Cuyahoga Mills is here for our 2 PM appointment."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rogers," she replied with a smile that Pat told her was apologetic. "Mr. Wall has asked me to tell you that he's been delayed. We've recently moved our printing presses to a new building, and there've been some issues with the building. He's taking an inspection tour now. He promised he'd be here until 2:30, if you would like to wait."

"Suits. You must have today's paper, right?" He smiled. Pat told her to chuckle, so she did, noting that she'd just heard a little joke. Of course she had today's paper! She pointed to the end table next to the comfortable sofa and watched as he walked over to the table, then went back to her work. Pat told her that Tom was attractive, a shade over 6 feet, with an athletic build, his blonde hair cut short in a flattop crew cut. Hope liked some men and didn't like others, but she didn't feel a particular attraction to men, so she didn't follow up by 'chatting him up' as she knew Pat would have done. But Tom restarted the conversation himself.

"Are you a baseball fan, Miss Hazard?" he looked up after he'd paged through the paper.

"I read the sports section every day," she replied apologetically, "and I can tell you who's winning, who's losing, and the names of a lot of the players - but I've never seen a game."

"Never seen a game?" he replied, disbelievingly. "We'll have to do something about that. Do you know what semi-pro baseball is?" She shook her head. "It means that teams are made up of players who want to play professionally and others who just like to play, but have other jobs. I play for the Radiance Racers of the Tri-State League, and we're playing the Redcliffe, Ohio, Hawks on Saturday afternoon. Would you like watch us play?" He could see that she was hesitating, so he added quickly, "A couple of my friends will be there and you can sit with them, so you won't be alone in the crowd. What do you say?"

With no activities to replace rehearsals and the other tasks of producing War Nurse, Hope was getting tired of doing nothing on weekends. The next tryouts weren't for a month. "Why not?"

At that moment, Mr. Wall walked in. "Sorry I'm late, Rogers. Let's get right to business, eh?" Tom spent the next 90 minutes trying to convince Wall to buy his newsprint from Cuyahoga Mills instead of his current supplier, Franklin Paper. On his way out, he made arrangements to meet Hope on Saturday, and introduce her to his friends.

Hit and Run

Mr. Wall kept her late that night, and the sidewalks were almost deserted in the evening twilight by the time she turned the corner to her street. The car came out of the night like a banshee, with squealing tires and a roaring engine, barely making the corner and coming thisclose to rolling over. The driver straightened the wheel frantically and over corrected, and the car bounced over the curve with a crunch and struck Hope a glancing blow in the back with the front left fender. There was a deadly 'thwunk' and then she was flying through the air, her limbs failing bonelessly and her body bent backward into a position no intact human body could possibly survive. The car sped away, barely slowing, the driver still struggling to control it as it wavered from one side of the street to the other. In a couple seconds it was gone. There had only been 2 other people on the sidewalk at the time, and both of them were so busy diving for cover that they didn't have time to watch Hope's deadly flight.

While it was a human form that went flying, what landed was nothing like human. Instinctively, Hope's body changed, reacting to the situation. Her arms, legs and head shortened, vanished almost instantly into her torso, which shortened and grew wider, until she was a ball - maybe twice as big as a beach ball, covered with tough, resilient hide, and she bounced several times before she rolled into a small, well-tended yard and came to rest against the base of the bushes.

A fair percentage of her body's cells had been damaged beyond repair; they were quickly absorbed by the rest of the cells. Such a vast, fast change left Hope a little disoriented, and it took a few seconds before she returned to her human form. Except, she'd lost her clothes along the way; she concentrated to remember what she'd been wearing, and her shape shifted again. Now apparently fully clothed and totally unharmed by the violent hit and run and her subsequent solo flight, she used the bushes for cover and snuck around the back of the house, then slipped out onto the street.

In the confusion that was developing over a hit and run with no body, she managed to retrieve her purse unnoticed, and then she made her way home. Such drastic changes to her physiology, made so quickly, required a lot of energy, and Hope was exhausted. She fell asleep almost instantly.

Excerpt from the Radiance Sentinel the next day:

"Hit and Run or Hoax?

Police were left with a mystery last night. Several people reported a hit and run accident on Prospect Avenue at around 9:30 last night. A late model Ford reportedly hit a young woman and tossed her through the air before racing away. Police investigation found no blood and no body, though there was a trail of ruined woman's clothing pointing in the direction that witnesses reported the body was thrown.

Police are treating the incident as a hoax and the alleged witnesses received a stiff warning, even though Prospect Ave. residents who were indoors at the time also reported hearing the roaring engine, squealing tires and a sickening 'thud'. Police Chief Lambert replied with an angry "No comment" when approached by this Sentinel reporter with the statements of the neighbors."

Threat From the Baffler

About 10:15 AM the next day, a private messenger delivered a message to Miss Sheryl Farrell, Executive Secretary to Radiance Mayor Hutchinson Foxcroft. The unsealed envelope had the Mayor's name printed in big, bold letters, and a message: "Extremely Urgent. Open and Read IMMEDIATELY." However, the Mayor was also the Chairman of the City Council, and the weekly Council meeting had started at 10.

"I'll see that Mayor Foxcroft receives this as soon as the City Council meeting is finished," Miss Farrell promised.

"I think it would be better if you interrupted the meeting. In fact, it might be best if the City Council gets the message as well," he replied, his tone insistent. "If you don't believe me, you should read it yourself."

"I can't read messages addressed to the Mayor!" she squeaked uncertainly. "I'll get fired."

"If he doesn't get this message in time, people will die! Are you willing to take that risk?" His tone was dark, threatening.

Miss Farrell looked at the envelope; it was unsealed, after all. She hesitated, then quickly opened it and pulled out the single sheet. She puzzled over the hard-to-decipher handwritten message for several seconds before she decided what to do. When she looked up again, the messenger was gone. Miss Farrell jumped up from her desk, raced across the room and burst through the door into the Council Chamber. All thoughts of decorum had been pushed out of her mind by the deadly contents of the message. She ran to the Mayor and almost screamed. "Foxy! You have to read this, right now!" She thrust the page in front of his face.

There were several moments of confusion, as the Mayor tried to reprimand his secretary, she insisted, loudly, that he read the message, and the rest of the City Council tried to figure out what was going on. With Miss Farrell hanging on his arm and literally begging him, he finally glanced at the message and the first line instantly drew his attention.

"Quiet!" he barked. The Council members, and Miss Farrell, all instantly stopped talking - most people sooner or later regretted disobeying Foxcroft's orders. He read the message through once, then turned to his distraught secretary. "Miss Farrell, call Chief Lambert instantly and tell him we have a police emergency. I want him and his smartest detectives here 10 minutes ago." She ran from the room, glad to have someone else taking responsibility.

Foxcroft stood, turned to face the Council. The Councilors were by now milling around uncertainly. "Sit down, Councilors!" He waved the paper. "I've just received a grave threat to the city. Some madman calling himself 'the Baffler' has threatened to blow up something, and boasts that even if he gives us clues to what, we won't be able to stop him."

As soon as he stopped talking, every Councilor started asking him questions, and for a couple instants, the room was filled with chaotic babble, until Foxcroft's next roar brought instant, total silence.

"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!" He waited for that instant, then continued. "As you heard, Chief Lambert should be here in a few minutes. Meanwhile, let me read you the note."

The Note

"Mayor Foxcroft, beware! I'm going to blow up something in Radiance today, and there is nothing you can do to stop me!

I hope that got your attention, Mr. Mayor. You have probably heard of me, the Baffler, arch-nemesis to that bumbling metal maroon, Robotman. I recently grew tired of his incessant interference with my plans, and decided to move to a new city. I looked for another city on the shore of a Great Lake, and settled on Radiance. I plan to own this city, and there is nothing that anyone in Radiance can do about it.

To prove to you that I'm serious, today at 2 PM there will be an explosion somewhere in Radiance, causing damage, destruction and loss of life. I will cause this explosion with my latest technological invention, which I've decided to call the Remote Radio Detonator. Two radio beams, carrying signals of my own devising, will cross paths somewhere in Radiance, and where they cross, the signals will combine synergistically to cause an explosion.

To prove that you are helpless, there are 3 clues below to my chosen target. Even if you solve them, you won't be able to stop me, but you may be able to evacuate the target before 2.

Worst of luck!

The Baffler

1. I'm always approaching, but never arrive.

2. I'm the destination where are you always going, but can never arrive?

3. I exist throughout the universe, I'm always around, yet I arrive instantaneously and vanish instantly.

Tick tick tick... BOOM!

Riddle Me This

Chief Lambert rushed in shortly after with 2 police detectives trying to keep up. He was frantically waving a note, which turned out to be almost identical to the warning the Mayor had received.

"We figured out the first clue on the way over," Lambert announced triumphantly to the crowd now filling the Council Chamber. "We're always approaching 'tomorrow', but it never becomes tomorrow, it's always today."

"The answer could be 'the future'; it fits just as well," one of the Councilors shouted stubbornly.

"It could be either," Foxcroft stepped in. "Let's work on the others; we don't have much time."

"I know the next one," Miss Farrell said timidly. Several of the men looked at her scornfully, one even laughed. "Never mind..." she whispered in anguished embarrassment, and turned to run out of the room.

"Hold on, miss!" Lambert said. "What do you think the answer is?"

"There," she said gratefully. "The answer is 'there'. You are always going 'there', but when you arrive, it's 'here'. It's the same kind of question as the first one. You see?"

"Very well, then!" Foxcroft accepted the answer before anyone could complain. "So, if the third riddle is like the other two, the answer must be..." he paused for a second. Several Councilors had already figured out the likely answer, but they knew the Mayor liked being the center of attention, so they shut up. "...'NOW'!" he yelped triumphantly. "It's always 'now' anywhere in the universe. But one now becomes the next now every tiniest instant, and it also becomes the last now just as quickly."

"Congratulations, Mr. Mayor!" cooed Councilor Bumkiss, the ultimate yes-man on the City Council. "That's so clever!"

"None of these riddles was hard," Lambert objected. "But what do they mean? That's the real riddle for us. 'Future There Now' or 'Tomorrow There Now'. Think, people!"

"That one's easy, too, Chief," Detective Damon spoke up. "The IBM World of the Future traveling exhibition in the Lakeside Convention Center. Heck, they even call one of the exhibits 'Today's Home of Tomorrow'. That's gotta be it."

Foxcroft immediately sprang into action. "Chief, call the Convention Center and order an evacuation, then get over there in force and make sure it's empty. And make sure it STAYS empty! Farrell, you call the hospital and tell them to send some ambulances out, just in case! Bumkiss, you call the Fire Department. I want a ring around the Convention Center at a safe distance." He didn't waste any time, but began a flurry of other orders, and within a few minutes, the room was empty around him as everyone had an important task to carry out. Foxcroft crumpled up his copy of the note and threw it at the wastebasket in the corner. He gave a single bark of laughter when the paper wad bounced off first one wall, then the other, and then dropped into the bucket.

But… What About the Riddle?

No one died at the Lakeside Convention Center. In fact, there was no explosion, there, either. Instead, there was an explosion in an apartment house on the south side of the city, totally leveling it. Fortunately it had only recently been finished, and only 4 of the apartments were occupied. Still, the death toll was 11, including 4 young wives, 3 children, one husband who stayed home from work because he wasn't feeling well, and the manager and janitor.

Detective Damon was devastated. But no matter how he put the words of the clue together, they never pointed to 'new, partially occupied apartment building on the south side'. Early the next morning, he was still sitting at his desk, just staring at the wall, when one of his colleagues, night shift Detective Sam Bolt, tried to cheer him up.

"Hey, Don! You know how people sometimes refer to kids as 'the hope of the future'? Maybe that's what the clue met, someplace where there were kids."

"So I missed it after all, and those kids died because of me? Thanks, Sam, for pointing that out..." Damon said sarcastically. He dropped his head to his desk with a painful thump - and then bounced up again.

"There are too many apartment buildings where kids live! Even if that was the real meaning of the clue, nobody could possibly have figured it out." Now there was fire in his eyes, and new determination in his voice. "Thanks, Sam, for pointing that out!"

He yelled to the orderly. "Eugene! Get me some coffee, strong and black! Then run down to the forensics lab and see if they have any new information on the explosives the Baffler used, will you? Hurry!" He reopened the file folder on his desk, and started re-examining everything they'd collected on the explosion. "OK, Mr. Wise-Guy Baffler, you're gonna find out you made a big mistake, taunting us that way!"

The Sentinel Has the Story

Thursday AM edition

Headline: "11 Murdered in Apartment Building Explosion"

Featured Story: "Costumed Villain Claims Credit

The Baffler's claim to be Robotman's arch-nemesis was more of a boast than the truth. There are only two recorded encounters between the two of them, in 1949, and he hardly gave Robotman enough trouble to qualify as an arch-nemesis.

The Baffler was an inventive genius who turned his inventions to petty crime. In January 1949, the Baffler and two confederates used one of his inventions, a silent explosive, to blow open a safe in a small business. Robotman saw them escaping with their loot on rocket-powered roller skates and gave chase. They barely managed to escape with the help of the Baffler's magnetic powder, which stuck Robotman to the pole of a streetlight. Convinced of their superiority to the durable detective, the trio used the Baffler's inventions to stay ahead of the police as they carried out a massive crime spree.

But Robotman was something of an inventive genius himself, and he put together a bag of tricks of small gadgets of his own in advance of their second encounter. The next time the two inventors met, the Baffler literally de-feeted the lawman of steel, cutting his feet off at the ankles with a rocket buzz saw. Robotman replaced his feet with a pair of motorized wheels from his bag of tricks and skated off after the crooks. They were stunned that he'd found a way to follow them, and he captured them easily before the Baffler could use another of his own gadgets.

Neither the police or press in Chicago had any record of the Baffler leaving clues to his crimes."

*see Detective Comics #143, January 1949, "Robotman vs. The Baffler" readcomiconline.to/Comic/Detective-Comics-1937/Issue-143?id=5171#17

"The Baffler's defense lawyer convinced a jury that his client had been forced into crime by his confederates, and had actually secretly aided in their capture by pretending to have used up all his gadgets when Robotman caught up with him. He was released with a suspended sentence, while his confederates were sentenced to 5 years in prison. They promised revenge, and swore that even from prison they would make him pay. The Baffler has not been seen or heard from since those threats were made."

"Baffler's Clues Mislead Police"

This story printed the three clues and the location that Detective Damon had deduced. In addition, one of the Sentinel's internal numbers was provided. Mr. Wall had assigned several cub reporters to answer that phone 24 hours a day, and the story asked the public to call in with alternate answers for the riddles and the target.

Friday AM Edition

"Baffler To Strike Again, Provides More Riddles

The mysterious criminal who calls himself the Baffler responded to the stories in yesterday's Sentinel by throwing a paper-wrapped rock through the office window. The paper was yet another note containing mysterious riddles which he claims are clues to his next target. In the note, he mocked the previous efforts to solve his clues:

'The article with my biography in this morning's paper wasn't too flattering. You had better be more careful - I can cross the beams of my Remote Radio Detonator above the Sentinel building as easily as I can any other building in Radiance.

I guess Mr. Mayor and Chief Lamebrain needed more time to figure out my clues. So I'll give you more time before the next explosion. Where? You figure it out. When? If you solve the clues in time, you can evacuate in time to save lives. But you still won't be able to stop me.

1. I always run, I never walk, I have a mouth but never talk,
I have a bed but never sleep, I have a head but never weep.

2. I have feathers that help me fly, head and body but not an eye,
Your strength propels me through the air, but I'm not thrown to get me there.

3. I have towns but no houses, roads but no trucks,
Seas but no water, lakes but no ducks."

Break a leg!'

Please call the Sentinel's 24 hour Riddle Hot Line, Adams 45789, if you have a solution for the riddles and the clue, or any information on the Baffler."

Hope and Friends Decode the Riddles

Shortly before noon on Saturday,Tom pulled to the curb in front of Hope's apartment in his 47 Willys Jeepster convertible. She was already waiting, sitting on the bench at the trolley stop in front of her building. Tom got out of the driver's side and a shorter, red-haired young man with a bulge at his waistline got out of the passenger side. Before the other guy climbed into the back seat, Tom introduced him and his other passengers.

"Hope, meet Tade Mehlville, Janie La Roux, and Herb Simms. Fellows, this is Hope Hazard." Janie was an attractive blonde and Herb was tall, with black hair and wide shoulders. Tom turned to Hope with a conspiratorial grin. "Don't know quite why, but Tade prefers that people call him 'Tubby'."

Tubby snorted. "So would you, if you were named Tade!" The other 3 laughed, so Hope laughed too.

"I'm pleased to meet you all as well." she said, reaching into the back seat to shake hands. Herb was impressed with the strength of her handshake, totally unlike that of most women of the time.

"We've got to be going," Tom told his friends. "The game doesn't start until 1, so you guys have plenty of time, but I'm supposed to be in the clubhouse before 12:30." He handed Hope into the front seat and closed the door for her.

"Tom's such a gentleman,' Herb said.

"This morning, at least," Janie agreed, deadpan. "I wonder what makes today different?" Pat whispered to Hope to ignore their byplay.

"So, where are you from?" Janie asked curiously. "All Tom told us about you was that you work at the Sentinel - and that you're a real dish!"

"Geez, Louise, Janie! Cut it out!" Tom yelped emphatically at his mischievous friend.

"Isn't that cute? He's blushing," Janie chuckled.

"We already knew about the 'dish' part, though," Tubby added, gallantly. "We all saw you in that play, Pat Powers, War Nurse. In fact, Janie went back three times!"

"Yes, she was my hero during the war!" Janie agreed. "I spent every nickel I could scrounge up on the 'Pat Powers' comics; still have them all, in fact, every one!" she boasted proudly. "So now, tell us more about Hope!"

"Only if you promise I can read your comics!" Hope insisted. "I searched this town from top to bottom for old issues when I was researching the part, and only found a few, and they aren't in very good shape."

After Janie nodded, she continued, "I'm actually from Hazard, lived here most of my life." She'd worked out a back-story for job and theatre interviews but she didn't get a chance to tell it, right then.

"Great, a native! So what do YOU think the Baffler's clues mean?" Tubby asked, covering up a yawn, followed by more yawns from Janie and Herb. Finally, Tubby finished. "How do River, Map, and Arrow relate to Radiance?"

Hope had been thinking about that a lot. Though she wasn't really from Radiance, the database the forgotten future tourist company had telepathically slipped into her brain gave her more information about the city than even the most learned local historian.

"There are 3 rivers associated with Radiance." she began. "The Arrow River is traditionally considered the western boundary of the city, the Mill River runs right through downtown and Four Mile Creek is to the east."

The three in the backseat nodded to each other as she said that, while Tom started to smile and then stifled a yawn of his own.

"Hosiah Fitz, the first mayor of Radiance after the Revolutionary War, was also a famous mapmaker, and one of his maps hangs on the wall of City Hall, next to the original city charter. Arrow River is prominent on that map. In fact the Arrow River Map Company, which is also downtown, took its name from that famous map." Janie turned to Herb and the two shook hands, grinning at each other.

"The Museum of History and Natural Science is on River Road, and right now it's hosting a traveling exhibit. A year or so ago, a Professor of America History made a fascinating discovery in the Southwest - the cavern hideout of an obscure old West masked vigilante named Swift Arrow. There were hundreds of 'trophies' in the cavern, which are now part of this traveling display. One of the artifacts is supposed to be a treasure map to a trove of Incan gold..."

Tom took his right hand from the steering wheel, clinched it into a fist and made a short jerking motion.

"I can only think of one other reference that might fit. You might not know it, but the old luxury car, the Bierce-Arrow, was manufactured right here in Radiance until they went out of business. The factory was right at the outlet of the Mill River into Presque Isle Bay, where they had their own docks. The facility has recently been purchased by Lakeshore Fire Apparatus, and they now build fire trucks there. I don't know how the Map clue fits, though."

"That's what I think is the answer," Tubby said. "The Map part is just another red herring. Herb's a cop, and he overheard the Mayor and Chief Lambert arguing over it..."

Herb interrupted, "I didn't say they were arguing, Tubby! I said they were discussing."

Tubby ignored his friend. "Hizzoner agrees with me, the Bierce-Arrow factory. But I'll bet I figured it out before he did!"

"Sheriff Lambert leans more towards the museum," Herb added.

"So what's your theory, Hope?" Tom asked.

"I'm not sure yet," she replied cautiously. "It seems strange to me that while the Baffler's first clue seemed to indicate only one target, there are at least 4 easy answers to this one. I think we're still missing something."

The three in the back seat looked stubborn, not wanting to abandon their own pet theories, but Tom looked startled - and was silent and thoughtful the rest of the trip.

"OK, you guys, have fun!' he yelled back over his shoulder as he walked into the clubhouse. "See you after the game!"

"Don't fall asleep on the field, Tommy, boy," Herb advised. "The ball might bounce off your head for a hit. Your manager will kill you!"

"Yeah, well, don't you guys fall asleep in the stands, either. Make sure you explain the game to Hope!"

Excitement in the Ticket Line

It was a beautiful day for baseball. The sun was bright, the sky cloudless a cloudless blue, and the dazzling green grass and the infield in the small stadium were in perfect condition. There were maybe 800 people half-filling the bench seats in the stands, which started behind the third-base line and wrapped around behind home to first base.

"The reason there's so many people here is that today's the last game of the first half, and the Hawks and Racers are tied for first,' Tubby explained eagerly. "The winner will be First Half Champs. After the second half, the First Half Champs play the League Series against the second Half Champs for the pennant. The Hawks are the defending champs, beat the Buffalo Bisons in last year's Series." He waved at a group of about 300 people, who were sort of isolated in the third base side. "Most of them are from Redcliffe; it's only about an hour's drive west."

Hope knew the distance to Redcliffe much more accurately than that, but she'd discovered that people got unhappy when she displayed too much knowledge. But Janie, who was holding Herb's arm as they walked, jabbed him with her elbow. "Geez, Louise, Tubb - remember, she grew up here. She knows where Redcliffe is!'

Herb spoke up. "Tom plays third, so we're going to sit right behind third base. Hope those Hawks fans will be good losers!"

"Only way the Racers win is if they walk Pete Lincoln," Tubby replied, and the guys talked baseball, with Janie joining in occasionally as they stopped at the concession stand. As they stood in line, the crowd around them was buzzing with talk about the Baffler and his riddles. The four joined in the conversation, but they heard nothing they hadn't already discussed in the car until a newcomer to the line interrupted everyone loudly. Janie shook her head with disgust; this guy was already two sheets to the wind.

"I was talking to my friend Sam, who was out late last night," he almost yelled, wanting to be sure everyone heard him. "On his way home, he saw somebody wearing a trench coat or robe or something sneaking around downtown! I'll bet it was this Baffler guy, planting a bomb! The paper said he wears a cape!"

"Hey, I saw that same guy last night, up near the Presque Isle Park!" someone else threw his 2 cents into the ring. "Right around midnight."

"Couldn't'a been - that's when my buddy saw him, and he was definitely downtown!" the first one argued loudly, angry that someone was trying to steal his limelight.

"He don't need no bombs, stupid, he's got that radio whachamacallit, just point it at sumthin and it blows up!" someone else tossed out sarcastically.

Someone else spoke up sarcastically, "You don't believe that bullducky, do ya? Nobody could build somthin' like that."

"I'll bet Lex Luthor could, easy!" Suddenly people were quiet - even if the Baffler hadn't built the Remote Radio Detonator himself, there had been numerous people in the past 5 years who'd gotten hold of Luthor's inventions and turned them to their own, usually nefarious, purposes. When subdued conversation began again, the topic was about everything but the Baffler.

A Little Excitement During the Game

Early in the game, there was a disturbance after Pete Lincoln, the center fielder for the Hawks hit a home run to put his team ahead. A handful Racers fans apparently thought that the celebration coming by the Hawks fans was excessive. They rose from their seats behind home and tried to swagger into the impromptu visitors' section to make their views known. The swagger was more like a stagger, and though they were very loud, it was difficult to decipher their slurred words. A couple of ushers tried to calm them down, but they weren't having any. Herb quickly identified himself as a deputy sheriff and helped escort the drunks to the door. He rejoined his friends and the incident was quickly forgotten.

Around the fifth inning, Janie stood up anxiously. "I just realized I left my purse in the car! I'll be back in a few minutes." Herb and Tubby both started to stand, but she waved them back to their seats. Hope stood as well.

"I'll go with you," she offered. She turned to the guys. "I can tell that explaining everything to me is keeping you from enjoying the game, boys, so I'll let you off the hook for a while."

As they walked through the parking lot, they discussed the game. "It seems simple enough," Hope commented "and now I think I understand the stories in the paper a lot better. But I don't know what they see in it - it's not very exciting,"

Janie laughed. "Sometimes I think that too. But I enjoy sitting in the sun, surrounded by mostly guys, the brilliant green and great smell of the grass, the guys, the hot dogs and beer. And did I mention the guys?" They both chuckled; Hope even before Pat told her to.

Tom's car was parked at the far end of the parking lot, in the area reserved for players, next to the school bus that brought the Hawks to the game. As they got closer, Hope put a hand on Janie's arm. "Janie, there are several men hiding behind that bus!" she whispered. As Janie started to crane her head for a closer look, Hope whispered again, urgently "Don't let them know we know!"

"I don't see anyone," Janie replied doubtfully. "Why would there be anyone out here hiding?"

Hope changed directions a bit, now heading for another car parked on the other side of the bus. "It's those guys that got thrown out before. They're probably planning to jump us when we reach Tom's car."

Janie still didn't quite believe in these hidden attackers, but she decided it wouldn't hurt to be cautious. "So, why are we moving closer to them instead of leaving?" she wanted to know.

"If they want to stay hidden, they're going to have to move. That means they'll be a little off balance and it will be easier for _us_ to surprise them."

"Why don't we just leave them alone and go back inside?" Janie asked. She knew what her own answer would be, but she was curious about how Hope thought.

"That's a bad idea," Hope shook her head once, sharply. "They'll charge us for sure as soon as we turn our backs."

Janie shook her head, a little doubtfully, but she wasn't as reticent as she was pretending. It had been a while since she'd been in a good fight. At least, she no longer had the urge to yawn! "Is there anything in your purse you can't afford to lose?" she asked her new friend.

"I wouldn't want to lose the purse, but the stuff inside isn't very important. Why?"

Jamie smiled and held out her hand; Hope dropped her purse in it. Janie unhooked the long strap from one side of the purse and rehooked it on the other side. It dangled from the strap; she hefted it experimentally, checking its weight. She bent down and grabbed a handful of gravel, dropped it inside, hefted it again and smiled in satisfaction. "You'll get it back," she promised with an evil smile, "... maybe a little battered and dirty. So where's our victims now?"

"They're a little confused; they're sneaking around the front of the bus so we won't see them when we get closer. They still think they're the hunters." By now, they were close to the back of the bus. "You keep going. I'll sneak down this side and as soon as they see you, I'll jump them from behind."

She sounded so enthusiastic that Janie was a little alarmed. "No permanent damage!" she admonished her new friend. Hope hesitated, then nodded. She slipped away down the right side of the bus while Janie kept strolling towards the car parked to the left.

When they saw Janie coming closer, the group got ready to attack - and then paused in mild alarm when they realized she was alone. Before they could do anything else, Hope screamed and charged them from behind. Three of them turned around in confusion, to see a fearsome figure racing towards them, a hairy, slavering wolf-woman with vicious fangs and claws. The wolf's features melted into Hope before they could be sure what they were seeing.

Janie raced forward and swung the purse like a rock on the end of a string, smashing the left temple of one of the now-stationary ambushers, knocking him to the ground. She dropped the purse and raised her hands in a boxing stance, and her second opponent was so stunned to see a girl pretending to know how to box that he laughed. He stopped laughing when Janie tagged him with a left jab but still didn't take her seriously. He stepped forward and spread his arms to grab her, and walked into a straight right to the solar plexus, which dropped him to the ground gasping for breath.

Hope instinctively used her abilities to good advantage. She had lengthened her legs to run faster, and altered her head to be more suitable as a battering ram. She moved more quickly than her first opponent expected, and managed to smash the top of her head into his jaw before he could react. He dropped instantly to the ground and whimpered once, then stopped moving. Hope's leg stretched, twice as long and flexible as any human's leg, wrapped around the ankles of her second opponent, and she jerked him off his feet. Her hand changed into a sharp blade of bone and she punched towards his heart, but then she remembered her promise to Janie. The blade morphed back into a fist - twice as large as her normal fist and covered with hard bone. She pulled the punch up, and hit him under the jaw. He bit off the tip of his tongue and collapsed, blood starting to burble in his mouth.

The fifth man saw all of Hope's transformations, and two of his friends drop to the ground as if they were dead, and he took off running, screaming in horror. Janie picked up the purse, swung it a couple of times like a sling, and let it go. It caught him right behind a knee, which collapsed, and he fell to the ground. He grew silent as the two women approached him. He was white as a sheet and his eyes had rolled up.

Janie snorted, picked up the purse, and started walking back towards Tom's car. She reattached the strap and handed it to Hope. "That was kind of fun," she said, 'but it didn't last long, did it? You're not even sweating," she noted to Hope admiringly, as her new friend dropped into stride next to her. Janie grabbed her purse from the floor of the Jeepster, and they casually headed back to the stadium. As they passed the guy who had bitten his tongue, Janie turned him over onto his stomach with her toe. "He could drown, otherwise. Horrible way to go." She didn't sound horrified.

"Say, how'd you know those guys were there?" she asked, interestedly. "Even after you told me about them, I didn't see 'em until just before they tried to jump me."

"I don't know, exactly," Hope admitted. "I just sort of 'felt' somebody waiting to ambush me. Instinct, maybe?" she asked uncertainly. "Maybe I saw them, I don't know." Her tone changed from puzzled to scorn. "They sure didn't know much about concealing themselves!" For some reason, this puzzled her; she instinctively expected predators to be virtually undetectable until it was too late.

"Say, you're a pretty good fighter. You didn't learn that by watching War Nurse a few times." Hope was relieved that her friend hadn't said anything about her shape changing; apparently Janie's attention had been elsewhere.

"Not exactly," Janie replied slowly. "I grew up in a really rough neighborhood in Big City. It's not the first time I've had to handle a group of drunks."

"So, what are we going to tell the fellas?" Hope asked.

"Why tell them anything? These guys will probably be gone by the time the game is over, and if they're not, well, they musta had too much to drink, huh?" Janie replied practically. "Herb's a cop; if we told him, we'd have to fill out a report of some kind and wouldn't get home until midnight."

The rest of the afternoon was pleasant, and, as Hope had predicted, the drunks they'd knocked down had cleared out by the time the game was over. As they were dropping Hope off, Tom helped her from the car and walked her to the door. "Mr. Wall has decided to buy the Sentinel's newsprint from Cuyahoga Mills, and we're going to sign the contract on Tuesday. So I'll see you then, OK?"

Lunch Date with Little Boy Blue and Miss Redhead

When Tom came out of Mr. Wall's office on Tuesday, he looked jubilant. He stopped at Hope's desk and asked her out to lunch "I'm paying, and don't argue!" he insisted with sparkling enthusiasm. "I just closed the biggest sale of my career, and I can afford to celebrate a little!" They met up with Janie, who also worked downtown. Janie looked very tired, with bags under her eyes, her hair flat and lusterless, and she moved very hesitantly. Tom's enthusiasm and energy melted away as they ate, until he looked as tired as Janie. Every time one of them yawned, several others in the small cafe would quickly follow suit - though Hope was apparently immune to that reaction. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her.

"What's up with the two of you?" she demanded. "You both look like you haven't slept for a week!"

They looked at each other and Janine nodded slightly. "I think it's OK to tell her, Tom," she added. "It's not like we're doing anything wrong."

"Not much choice now, is there?" Tom asked with a wry smile. He turned to Hope. "You've heard the rumors about people in some type of costumes being spotted roaming the city after midnight?" Hope nodded. "Well, those people are me, Herb, Tubby and Miss Redhead, here." He smiled at Janie; she stood and gave a half-bow, then sat down again. "We've been looking for the Baffler, and trying to find bombs in the places the riddle seems to suggest. We've been getting up at midnight and spending 3 or 4 hours prowling around, so none of us is getting enough sleep."

Hope was puzzled. "Why are you wearing costumes? Why are you even doing it in the first place? I can see why Herb might do something like that if the sheriff ordered him to, but what about the rest of you? Janie, you're a math teacher at the Radiance High School for Girls, right? Tom's a salesman and Tubby works in a hardware store. I don't understand." She didn't doubt her new friends; when she'd studied Pat Powers she'd learned that there were people all over the world who put on costumes and patrolled a city at night - and during the day - but she still had no inkling why anyone would do such a thing.

"We like to help people. If we could catch the Baffler or find a bomb, we might save some lives, and the four of us think that's worth doing," Janie replied, very seriously. Her next words were in a much lighter tone. "As for why the four of us? We're sort of used to it. In fact... Now Presenting," she said in a pretentious tone while she opened both hands and turned them palm up, pointing in Tom's direction, "...Little Boy Blue!"

Janie obviously expected Hope to know of Little Boy Blue, so she quickly searched her memory. "Sorry, Janie. The only Little Boy Blue I know is in the nursery rhyme, and I'm sure Tom's not some fictional character from some ancient kiddy poem. Or is he?" They all chuckled at that.

"We were heroes during the war, just like Pat Powers!" Janie boasted. "Tom was Little Boy Blue, I was Little Miss Redhead, and Herb and Tubby were the Blue Boys. We cleaned up Big City!"

"We all retired after the war," Tom continued the story. "I moved here when I got my job with Cuyahoga Mills, and the rest of the gang moved here, too. Radiance is our city now, and even though we're retired, we're not going to let a bad guy like the Baffler threaten our city!" He was very emphatic - then stopped and his voice dropped in disappointment. "But we haven't found anything yet. No bad guy and no bombs... No clues to how he blew up that apartment house, or why."

Hope still didn't understand. Other people seemed to have an instinct to help someone else in danger or trouble, but Hope just didn't have that instinct. Her forgotten race had never evolved it. Chameleons were very difficult to kill; if a catastrophic event didn't kill them instantly, they were almost certain to survive. Even if a Chameleon was trapped in the aftermath of a disaster, such as a cave-in, the Chameleon shape-shifting powers made them the best escape artists in the 30th century. So why bother helping? But she had learned that helping people in trouble and saving lives was what Pat Powers did, and now she realized that her new friends also felt strongly about it.

"So now I know," Hope turned to Janie and was going to say "...where you learned how to fight so well," but Janie shook her head slightly. "...your secret. You said you didn't find bombs or bad guys - did you find anything?"

"Radiance is a pretty quiet place, turns out" Tom answered, sounding a little underwhelmed. "I broke up a fight between a couple of drunks outside a bar, Janie saved a woman from a guy who ran a red light, and Herb actually caught a burglar - but not in his disguise; he pulled off his costume and arrested the guy as a deputy sheriff. He thinks he may get a promotion because of it."

"Tubby's feeling a little blue that he hasn't had any action," Janie chuckled. "It always made him feel extra good when we won a fight or solved a crime or exposed a gangster. He felt like he was proving to the world that chubby people can do important things."

"Tubby's as good a man as any I know," Tom added, emphatically.

"And if you don't believe Tom, ask his fiancé, Tiffany!" Janie laughed again. "She thinks he's just the bees knees!"

"Anyway," Tome continued, "what we haven't found is a single clue. There's been no activity around the places the riddle suggests during the night. They've been closed during the day, and the police have been searching the buildings, and nothing. Those businesses are starting to lose money, and the city council is complaining about meeting in the high school. But Mayor Foxcroft insists on keeping those places evacuated until something happens."

"Herb says that Detective Damon, the guy that first came up with the wrong answer to the first riddle, is pulling his hair out, that he still blames himself," Janie chimed in again. "He's certain that none of the obvious answers is correct - but he just can't figure out another answer. He's trying to find other significance in the clues. "Arrow River Map" - the only letters that are in more than one of the words are A, I, R, the first letters of each word are A, R, M, there are 11 letters total in groups of 5, 5 and 3, but all he's doing is making himself crazy."

"Did the Sentinel get any good clues on the 'hot line'?" Tom asked curiously.

"A lot of crazy stuff," Hope admitted. "We passed them all on to the sheriff's office, and they're investigating, but they don't put much stock in anything we've given them." She paused, then continued apologetically, "I hope you don't mind, but all I've heard about at work this week has been the Baffler, and I'd enjoy talking about something else instead. Tom, tell us about your sale! How'd you convince Mr. Wall to give up Franklin Paper?"

"Tell you what, Wall was just getting off the phone with Phil Franklin when I arrived, and boy, was 'the Commander' hot under the collar - I could hear him yelling clear through Wall's office door." Hope smiled; she'd answered the call originally and considered telling the irate Mr. Franklin that Mr. Wall was not in the office. But Wall had seemed to enjoy the shouting match.

Tom told his story and then Hope and Janie had to return to work. "I'm teaching an elective summer class for our more advanced girls in Beginning Calculus at 1:30. Big test today; half their grades. They would be SO disappointed if I were late..."

"You're trying to teach CALCULUS to GIRLS?" Tom asked incredulously.

"Yes, there are girls who enjoy math and want to learn CALCULUS," Janie said with dignity. "Unlike a certain guy I won't name who had trouble with anything more complex than fractions!"

"Hey! I'm a salesman. I need to know how to calculate markups and discounts - but I'll never need to calculate the rate of change of f of x as x approaches zero!" Everyone laughed and they split up.

BOOM

Shortly after Hope got back to her desk, her phone rang. It was Mr. Wilmer, the clerk in the paper's small print shop. "Mr. Wall's new business cards are ready; can you come pick them up?"

"Sure, I'll be there in 5 minutes!" Hope answered brightly. The print shop was on the second floor of the Sentinel's new printing plant, across the street from the skyscraper where the rest of the paper was still located. Plans to move everything else into the new building had been stalled by some issues raised by the City Building Inspector. When she arrived at the shop, there was a short queue. The rest of the new plant was deserted; the night shift, which printed, assembled, bundled, and loaded the morning paper onto delivery trucks punched in at 7 PM and punched out by 5 AM. Hope struck up a conversation with the customer ahead of her, a young woman carrying a small baby boy.

"I'm the first President of the brand new Radiance Junior Women's Club," Luella Downer, the attractive young mother said proudly. She was the driving force behind the recent founding of the Radiance JWC. Hope made a mental note that Luella and the new JWC would make a good human-interest story - she'd suggest it to Mr. Wall as soon as she got back to her desk. "We've got over a hundred members already, and we decided that we should get our charter and bylaws printed and bound. I'm here to pick up the order. It's so exciting, seeing something material come about because of all our hard work!"

Before Hope could reply, there was the tremendous BOOM of a close-by explosion. The violent pressure wave pummeled the people in the shop like thousands of simultaneous punches from Jersey Joe, and the windows were blown out, filling the streets outside with dangerous daggers of glass. The entire building shook violently, knocking everyone to the floor, and the boom was replaced with a deafening cacophony of other noises - crashes as heavy things fell, cracks like sticks of dynamite exploding as heavy wooden beams snapped, screeches of tortured metal, all against a background of rumbling moans and groans of a building dying, falling in on itself. Luella's head hit the counter, knocking her senseless, and her baby rolled across the floor, wailing in pain and terror.

Hope's instinctive first reaction was to curl into an armored ball, as she had after being hit by the car the other day, but she remembered her new friends' enthusiasm about helping other people, and inside, Pat was screaming at her. Instead of cocooning, as she hit the floor Hope stretched one arm towards Luella, the other towards the baby. Her hands grew in size, until she could easily wrap her elongated fingers around her targets. She wrapped her legs around the legs of a massive table that supported a linotype machine, two mimeographs, and a hand press and let her arms snap back to normal, yanking mother and baby under the desk almost instantly. Debris was falling around her and the room was filled with dust. She turned her attention to the other people in the room, but she was out of time; two floors of debris collapsing above her smashed through the ceiling and falling rubble filled the room.

Hope's shaped her body into a pillar, and she converted as much of her mass as possible into the hardest bone-like substance she could. She and the Downers were huddled against the counter, and she felt her bony armor crack in several places as concrete chunks and some girders crashed down. The legs at the other end collapsed, but between Hope's support, the protection afforded by the counter and the heavy legs of the table, her end held up, trapping Hope and the Downers under an impromptu lean-to. Debris continued to clatter down around them for several minutes, until finally there was silence.

Hope's body began its instinctive healing process. She collapsed into a ball, and her damaged mass migrated to the center, while the outside was armored as much as her diminished resources would allow. Whatever was too damaged to repair was ingested, providing raw materials to repair the rest of her body. This arduous process took several minutes.

The baby was still crying, and Luella was now partially conscious and in distress at not being able to help her squalling child. Hope gently arranged Luella on her side, and placed her son in her arms. Luella pulled him closer and sighed, and the baby stopped crying. Hope turned her attention to escaping.

She put her hand against the pile of rubble that was confining them. It didn't look anything like a human hand right now, but more like a sea anemone. The tendrils stretched and thinned, and wriggled into the tiniest of cracks in the rubble. She gently worked small pieces free, pilling them under the low end of the table, and soon had cleared a fist-sized tunnel that snaked around unmovable obstructions, and extended several feet. Suddenly, one of the tentacles broke into an open space. Hope changed into a python and pushed powerfully but slowly through the tunnel and soon saw light. She was about to burst out of the hole and start digging when she heard people yelling.

She had not expected rescuers; though she didn't know it, she was again reacting like a Chameleon. 'They really do want to help!' she thought in amazement. 'Good thing, too, I'm just about totally exhausted.'

She adapted the vocal chords of a human baby and started screaming bloody murder. When someone yelled back, she yelled for help in her own voice. When the rescuers yelled back, she yelled again. 'This tunnel will seem strange if they see it,' she thought wearily, and withdrew it as quickly as possible, exerting her python-powerful muscles to strain the walls as she passed. The fragile equilibrium of the rubble was once again disturbed, and it responded by once again collapsing, though on a much smaller scale. As Hope finally snaked out of the hole, she was followed by a puff of dust. In the pitch black of her temporary shelter, she changed back to her human form, arranged her tattered clothing as best as possible, and passed out from exhaustion.

Hope Meets Isabela Again, for the First Time

Hope had no idea where she was when she awakened, but she was greeted by a friendly and familiar voice.

"Good evening, Miss Hazard. I'm Isabela Hardy, and you're in the recovery ward at Ray of Hope Hospital. How are you feeling?

Hope smiled wearily. "I'm very tired, Mrs. Hardy. And really, really hungry!" She was still a bit blurry, but suddenly she remembered what had just happened to her, and she jerked into full awareness. "Are Luella and the baby OK? What about everyone else?" she asked anxiously.

"You are suffering from simple exhaustion. Unless something else occurs, I expect you'll be released tomorrow morning, though you'll probably sleep the rest of the day when you get home. Donnie, the baby, has some abrasions and bruises, but nothing serious. He's playing with his dad right now. Luella has a concussion, I expect we'll keep her for observation tomorrow and release her on Friday. Mr. Downer wants to thank you for saving his wife and son. You're a hero, you know, Luella told everyone that you dragged them under that table." Apparently Luella had been too groggy at the time to notice Hope's unusual hands; at least, Isabela didn't mention anything unusual.

"What happened to the other people in the building?" Hope insisted. She'd noticed how Isabela hadn't answered her question.

"No one else survived," the nurse answered quietly, her eyes downcast.

"I don't feel like much of a hero," Hope replied. "I saved two, but three others died."

"Hope, it's not your fault!" Isabela insisted sternly. "The Baffler blew up the building; he killed them. You stopped him from killing everyone." Hope wasn't convinced. "Look, nobody, not even Superman or Wonder Woman can save everyone."

She leaned closer, put her hand on Hope's shoulder, spoke softly and compassionately. "I know how you feel. During the war, I served in the Army Nurse Corps, assigned to the 48th Surgical Hospital in Arzew, Algeria. During Operation Torch we had more casualties than cots, and we had to leave the wounded soldiers we knew we couldn't save lying on the concrete floor. I worked with the doctor who was triaging incoming wounded, and we had to choose those we might be able to save and those we couldn't, who would live and who would die."

She closed her eyes and shuddered, then opened them again. "It never got any easier. It was only bearable because of the lives we saved. But we learned quickly not to blame ourselves for those deaths, the enemies who shot those boys, bombed them, blew them up, they were responsible, not us. Just was the Baffler is responsible now!"

Hope cheered up a little when Mr. Downer ("Call me Sheridan") and Donnie stopped by for a short visit, and then Janie showed up.

"Hey, hero! Guess you were jealous of me and the boys, eh?" she quipped as she gave Hope a careful hug. "They wanted to come too, but I told them you were probably too tired to entertain tonight. They sent their best wishes, and more hugs."

They talked for a while, and Janie could see that Hope was depressed. When it was time for her to leave, she asked, "Would you like to come by my place Friday after work? The boys and Tiffany are coming over for pot luck dinner and some Monopoly, and I'd love it if you would come too."

Hope tried to be noncommittal but Janie wouldn't take no for an answer. She tried "But Janie, I don't cook!" Janie had an easy answer for that one. "Stop at Charlie's diner and pick up a large apple pie! That will be perfect. So I'll see you at 6, right?" Finally, Hope agreed.

After Janie left, Hope fell asleep almost instantly, and didn't wake up again until about 11 the next day. When she got home, she ate an enormous lunch, and then fell asleep again for the rest of the day.

Healing With Friends

Hope slept almost all day Thursday, only awakening to eat two extra large meals. To everyone's surprise, she showed up for work Friday. Mr. Wall tried briefly to send her home, but she refused, so he gratefully put her to work. Her day was chaotic but fulfilling, trying to put resources in place to continue printing the paper without interruption. She was not nearly as tired as the day before when she left work and headed for Charlie's Diner. She'd placed the order on her way to work, and she wasn't disappointed. She'd told Charlie that she was going to a party tonight, and he gave her a large apple pie for the price of a medium. He would have given it to her for free, but she insisted on paying.

Janie intorduced Hope to Tiffany, an attractive, long haired brunette with a pixie-like face, who barely topped 5'. Hope was quickly impressed with how intelligent she was. Everyone, including the boys, contributed something to the early potluck meal. Over supper, everyone except Hope wanted to talk about the explosion, and Herb was bursting with news of the Baffler, but Janie ruled that death and destruction and costumed criminals were not appropriate topics for conversation at _her_ dinner party. Instead, they talked about the Sentinel.

"Say, Hope, it was really wonderful that the paper was published Wednesday. It must have taken a miracle!" Janie said in wonder.

"Yeah," Tubby agreed. "Even though it came out slightly after noon and was just 4 pages long, and free, I still paid the guy at the newsstand the full price."

"The Sentinel hasn't missed an issue for over a hundred years," Hope replied proudly. "Everyone felt like they owed it to the people who died to keep up that record. The Radiance Advertiser offered us their presses on short notice." The Advertiser was a weekly paper that usually had around 12 pages and an insert, and a circulation about 20% of the Sentinel. "Franklin Paper donated half the paper we needed, and Cuyahoga Falls the other half."

Tom had helped arrange the paper donation. "The Commander is really a good-hearted guy under all his bluster," he smiled, shut up so Hope could continue.

"Remember, I was in the hospital and didn't actually see any of this," she reminded her friends. "But I heard that the Advertiser's team worked with us all night. They got the typesetting done in record time. But even with only 4 pages (2 folded sheets), a handful of stories and no advertising, we had to run the presses twice as long as the Advertiser normally does." She smiled at her friends. "Mr. Wall decided to make Wednesday's paper free. But a lot of people, like Tubby, paid full price anyway, and Mr. Wall used that money to start up a fund for the families of those who died."

"And one of that handful of stories was about you. It was a great human interest story - the beautiful actress who played Pat Parker, the heroic War Nurse, is now a heroine in her own right! How does it feel?" Tiffany asked her admiringly.

"I still don't feel heroic, Tiff. I feel like I let down the people who... who didn't make it," Hope replied sadly.

"No, those people died because the Baffler blew up the building. Nothing more and nothing less. He didn't give a $#!* about you or the others, he was just playing some sick game." Janie rarely used profanity, but she felt strongly. "He could have killed six of you, but he only got 3. He'll probably get some more; nobody seems to have a clue about finding him. But someone will catch him in the end, and then he'll pay."

"We didn't save everyone all the time either," Tubby added sadly, "Doesn't make you any less heroic. You did the right things, and you did them the best you could, and you saved two lives. That's always worth doing."

"That's what Nurse Hardy at the hospital told me, too," said Hope. "But we're not supposed to be discussing this. So, back to the Sentinel... Yesterday and today were extremely hectic, too, trying to find a larger printer who can handle our load until we get new presses. I spent most of the day arranging details."

Monopoly

When dinner was over, they switched to Monopoly. As they set up the board, Janie was concerned that the game would last all night. "I think we should set a 90-minute limit on the game. The winner is the one who owns the most tokens at that time. If everybody is still in the game, the player with the most money wins." Janie suggested. "Otherwise, nobody ever finishes a Monopoly game."

The others agreed with the conditions, but Tiffany didn't agree about finishing the game. "In my family, we _always_ finish the game. Sometimes we play the same game for over a month."

"And she almost always wins, too, Tubby added proudly. "I played with her family once. They cleaned me out in an hour. I was in way over my head," he warned his friends. "Maybe the rest of us should set up 'Stop Tiffany, Inc.' before we start."

"Why, Tubby Mehlville, you traitor! I was going to cook dinner you dinner tomorrow, but now you can just do take-out." She tried to sound stern, but secretly she was pleased that her fiance was acknowledging her skill.

Hope read the rules, "Just for a reminder. I haven't played in years." In fact, the games a young 30th century Chameleon played while growing up were mostly role-playing games which were designed to refine their ruthless, devious natures, with the goal of infiltrating human society, making slaves of all humans and taking over the Earth. Hope didn't remember this training, but she quickly discovered that she was a very good Monopoly player, and she enjoyed employing her suppressed talents.

Finally, as the game progressed, Herb had a chance to talk about the Baffler. "He left new notes today, laughing at our efforts to find and stop him. No riddles this time; instead he's trying to blackmail the city. If we pay him five hundred thousand dollars by tomorrow at noon, he won't blow up his next target. Hizzoner insists that we have to pay, and Sheriff Lambert insists that nobody should ever pay blackmail, as it only leads to more blackmail. They got into a big argument, which ended when the Mayor fired Lambert and appointed Bumkiss as the new Sheriff." He was very angry. "As soon as this whole thing is over, I'm going to quit the Sheriff's office and move somewhere else. I refuse to work for Bumkiss!"

"So what do you think is going to happen, deputy?" Tom asked curiously.

"Already happening, Tom Terrific. Mayor Foxcroft and the City Treasurer are raiding every city account they can. The fool is going to pay!"

"Maybe he ought to make a deal with Tiff," Janie joked. "She just cleaned me out! Look at all that cash in front of her."

"She's gonna make us rich after her dad retires and gives us the store!" Tubby gloated.

Tiffany and Hope quickly disposed of the others, each collecting 2 tokens. The time limit wasn't up yet, but their friends were bored watching them. "How about declaring a draw?" Janie suggested. "The boys want to dance - and Herb's already filled up most of my dance card!"

Hope's friends were amused that she didn't know how to dance. Tubby had brought his collection of swing music, and they all 'cut the rug' for an hour or so. Then Janie spun a couple of slow romantic songs and dimmed the lights. She and Herb went off to the love seat in the corner, and Tubby and Tiff commandeered one end of the sofa, leaving Tom and Hope alone on the floor. Tom was kind of flustered.

Kissing a Robot

"I'm sorry, Hope - I know we don't really know each other very well yet... maybe I should take you home."

Hope knew what kissing and necking were; P. Eric had managed to work a lot of each into the play. But she had never enjoyed those scenes as much as the other actresses. She wondered if it might be different without an audience. "I'd like to stay, Tom," she said shyly, a line that had always drawn cheers, applause, and approving whistles from the audience when Pat had used it.

Tom broke out in a smile the size of Lake Erie. He took her by the hand, moved to the big easy chair, and pulled her down on his lap. For a few minutes, they didn't say anything. Hope found that necking was pleasant, but not nearly as stimulating as Monopoly or as invigorating as dancing. Pat was telling her to enjoy it - Tom was strong and handsome and a skilled kisser - and she liked him, but there was something missing. Tom felt it too, and their activity kind of just wound down instead of ratcheting up, and they ended up whispering quietly.

"I'm sorry again, Hope," Tom apologized. "You're the best looking girl whose ever sat in my lap, but it just seems like we're not really meant for each other. You're bored, aren't you?"

"Not at all, Tom. You've been really nice to me, and I appreciate it, but there's just no sparks between us." Hope didn't really understand the reference to 'sparks' but her director had wanted to see 'sparks fly' when Pat first encountered the play's leading man. "Maybe I just need more practice. We can keep trying if you want?"

Tom had been a little disconcerted by Hope's reactions. She had seemed enthusiastic enough, but he'd had the feeling that she was closely studying everything they were doing. And she was right; he hadn't felt any spark either. 'Not like kissing your sister,' he thought as he tried to figure it out. 'More like kissing one of those humanoid positronic robots from an Asimov story.'

"That's sure different!" he whispered with a lopsided grin. "Usually, at this point, it's the guy who's trying to convince the girl to go just a little further and the girl who wants to just be friends."

"No matter what I do," she whispered back a little sadly, "it seems like I'm always 'different'. Sometimes I think I don't belong here... that I'm from somewhere else far away, and that's where I really belong."

That seemed eerily like his 'positronic robot' thought to Tom, which made him more uncomfortable. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, then Hope asked "So... what are your plans for the future?"

Tom intended to run for City Council next year, and maybe Mayor a few years later, and after that, perhaps Congressman and Senator. He wanted to make the world a better place. "And politicians affect more lives than I ever could as a costumed hero. What about you?

Hope had never really considered her future; most of her efforts over the past year and a half had been about establishing her identity and fitting into a society which still seemed strange to her. "I think I'd like to be a professional actress," she replied timidly. "Can you keep a secret?"

He raised his finger to his mouth, swept it from one side to the other. "My lips are sealed!"

"I haven't told anyone this yet because it sounds too good to be true," her whisper was breathless, wistful. "Last week, I got a letter from a theatrical agent on Broadway. She'd heard about my performance in War Nurse, and she'd like me to come to New York next month and audition for a part. If I get it, she's offered to be my agent!"

Tom was pleased that she'd cheered up, and they talked enthusiastically for a few minutes. He even snuck in another kiss - after all, a boy with a girl in his lap never truly gives up - but there were still no sparks. Finally, Janie popped up for air. "Hey, guys! It's getting late. My neighbors won't stop talking if you don't go home soon!" she laughed.

It took another 15 minutes of stretching, thank-yous, 'great Party Janie' and good-nights before everyone filed out the door. One thought was on everyone's mind 'Tomorrow is definitely going to be interesting!'

Increasing Demand

The next morning in the Mayor's office, the phone rang. The room was crowded, with the Mayor, the City Council, Sheriff Bumkiss, Detective Damon, Mr. Wall, the City Treasurer and several deputies. The Mayor's secretary, Miss Sheryl Farrell, was also there, serving coffee to the men. With some trepidation, the Mayor picked up the phone.

"Uh... umm... Mr. Baffler, umm... hold on, let me put the City Treasurer on the phone." He hurriedly pushed the phone into the hands of a tall thin man who had a very worried expression on his face.

"Um.. Mr. Baffler, my name is Eugene Greenbanks, and I am the City Treasurer of Radiance. It has been very difficult getting together the cash required on such short notice, and I'm afraid that so far we only have $400,000. If you could give us until Tuesday..." He scrunched up his face in pain and yanked the phone away from his ear, held it out to the Mayor. "He wants to speak to you, Mr. Mayor." He handed over the phone with a sigh of relief and quickly moved as far away from the Mayor as he could.

"Maybe you think I'm playing games here, Mr. Mayor," the Baffler said, sarcastically stressing 'Mayor', "but I'm not. So the deal has changed. You deliver the cash, and once I've counted it, I'll tell you what's gonna blow up, and you'll have about two hours to clear the structure. Then, next Saturday, we'll do this again. I want the 100 grand you welched on today, plus another 500 grand. And you better have the whole amount this time, or... BOOM! No warning."

Some of the deputies in the room were muttering until Bumkiss told them to shut up. Detective Damon refused. "As Sheriff Lambert said, if you pay a blackmailer, you end up paying over and over again."

"Damnit, Damon, shut your mouth!" Bumkiss screamed. "If we had the full amount this morning, he'd have been satisfied and this would be over now."

"Yeah, it's our fault he's going to blow something else up today." Damon muttered sarcastically. "And if we can't come up with the rest of the million by next week, it'll be our fault when people die?"

The mayor had his hand clamped over the mouthpiece of the phone and he was waving frantically for silence.

When Damon started to say something else, Bumkiss snapped. 'You're fired!" Damon turned on his heals and left.

As he stalked from the room, Damon spoke loudly. "I thought we learned a lesson about appeasement from Hitler and Chamberlain."

"We'll have the money next week!" the Mayor promised the Baffler anxiously. "Please don't kill any more people!"

"Bad for re-election, isn't it, Mayor?" the Baffler chuckled. "Now, here's what you do. I want you to carry the money. You and Miss Farrell, and anyone else who's brave enough, except any cops!, go out the front door of City Hall. The skirt gets into the maroon Lincoln with the motor running. Don't bother checking on the plates - it's stolen. Foxcroft, you open up the bag carrying the dough, on the hood of the car, so I can see it. Yes, I'll be watching..." he laughed like a vaudeville villain "BWAH ha HAH!"

"I understand," the Mayor's voice was quavering "You won't shoot m... er, anyone, right?"

"I won't shoot anyone - not my style. But if I see the Sheriff or any deputies... BOOM!" He laughed his vaudeville villain laugh again. "Make sure you leave the cash uncovered for 2 minutes, then shut the case, throw it in the back seat, and everyone goes back inside. The dame will find further instructions on the seat. Nobody follows her. She'll drive around for about 20 minutes, carry out my instructions, and I'll start counting the money. It better be 400 large, or else... BOOM! If it's all there, I'll call you back." He hung up.

The delivery went off without a hitch. The secretary drove around town for 20 minutes, making a lot of turns. Finally she got out of the car and carried the suitcase onto the porch of an abandoned house - and then ran like hell for a pay phone! A few minutes later, the phone in the Mayor's office rang again.

"Just counting now," the Baffler sneered at the Mayor. "Tell Sheriff Bumpkin to clear the Watermill Bridge. You have 2 hours from... now!"

It took half an hour to get everyone off the bridge and roadblocks established. It was a good thing they hurried; the first of two explosions was 45 minutes early and the second, only 2 minutes later - and the beautiful bridge was shattered, the roads on either side leading to jagged ends, and the debris clogging up the Mill River. It would be weeks, and cost millions to clear the channel and repair the damage caused by minor flooding upriver.

Tiffany Deduces a Clue

The Blue Boys and Miss Redhead got together at Tubby's apartment that night, to discuss their future nocturnal activities. Janie had invited Hope as well. "She's smart, and she's a way better fighter than I am!" she told her friends. They looked at her strangely - how did she know that? "Oops!" she sighed. "That was supposed to be Top Secret." Tiffany was there as well; she had been planning to cook for Tubby, but they decided to get a pizza instead.

"He's not using radio!" Tubby insisted. "I was scanning every frequency with my short wave for an hour before the explosion and scanned every band - nothing unusual. Certainly not some Nikola Tesla/Skylark of Space exploding radio rays."

"So he must have used bombs. But how did he plant them?" Janie asked. "We've been out looking every night... nothing."

"Surely you don't think 4 of you could search the whole city?" Hope asked. "Even costumed heroes can't catch the bad guys all the time."

"The structures are the clues!" Tiffany spoke up excitedly. All the others looked at her. "The clues he left were meaningless, right?'

"Well, he did kind of threaten the Sentinel in the second note. But the clues themselves DO seem meaningless," Hope was dubious. "What do you mean?"

"All three structures were completed in the last few months. And all 3 were plagued by complaints of shoddy construction." Her friends looked skeptical. "You know I'm really interested in buildings and real estate?" Her friends nodded; she had mentioned it during the Monopoly game, during which she had showed off the results of that interest. "I talked to the landlord of the apartment building - his staff was always doing minor repairs. Hope told us last night that Mr. Wall had just toured the print plant to see firsthand the things that his employees were complaining about. And only last week, a chunk of cement fell from the bridge. I read it in the Sentinel."

"Wow! I wonder if the companies that built them used substandard building materials - and are blowing them up now to hide it?" Herb asked excitedly. "Who were the builders?"

"Lake Erie Construction built the Sentinel print plant," Hope replied. "I found the file folder with the contract just last week for Mr. Hall's lawyer."

"That wasn't the name of the company that built the bridge," Tiffany added. "That was Big City Builders. I thought it was odd that some company from Big City would be building a bridge so far away." But none of them had even noticed the construction effort at the apartment building.

"It seems unlikely that 3 different companies would be doing the same thing - unless they were ALL involved," Tom cautioned his friends.

"I wonder how we can find out?" Hope asked her friends. "The Sentinel's morgue had already been moved into the basement of the new building before the explosion. The public library is closed."

"Anyone doing construction in Radiance needs a city building permit," Tiffany mused. So there must be records in City Hall..."

"Good luck getting into City Hall on a Saturday night. Especially tonight, the place is locked up tight as a drum," Herb informed them. "The deputies that walk the downtown beat used to have a key, so they could walk through the ground floor once or twice a night, but when he got elected a couple years ago, Hizzoner Foxcroft didn't like that. Nobody but the maintenance team allowed in over the weekend."

"So the place is empty right now?" Tom asked thoughtfully.

"Don't even think about it, Tom!" Herb ordered his friend. "I'm a deputy - and I'll lose my job if we get caught."

"I never said 'we'," Tom objected.

"Anyway, I have a better idea," Herb replied. "Detective Damon has been studying this case intensively; I'll bet he already knows."

Late Night Investigations

Damon was at home; he invited Herb and his friends over for a beer. Some of them weren't interested - but Herb told them that Damon had sounded really depressed and probably needed some friends right now. So off they went. A little while later, Damon was organizing them into teams.

"OK, Herb and Janie check out Lake Erie Construction, Tom and Hope, the Big City Builders, Tubby and Tiffany take Keystone Construction. I'll check out the records in City Hall. Make sure you don't get caught!" He certainly wasn't depressed any longer!

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Herb whispered to Janie as they parked his car not far from the offices of Lake Erie Construction.

"Cmon, Herb, it's not like the Blue Boys and Little Miss Redhead never broke in to the bad guys' headquarters before!" Janie reminder her friend.

"Yeah - but I wasn't a deputy then."

"Look," she whispered firmly. "I'm going to do this. You can sit here alone and wait for me, or..." she got out of the car and stepped into an alley not far away. Herb dithered for a few seconds, but then the thought of his girl, alone in a dark alley in a not-so-good part of the city at this hour convinced him to move. To his relief, there was only one figure in the alley - she looked like a cartoon ghost, with a pointed head and a long robe that covered her arms and legs like she was draped in a sheet - except the hood and robe weren't white, they were so dark it was almost impossible to see her in the shadows. He knew that robe was blue; a blue so dark it was almost black, because he was carrying a similar robe.

In a few seconds, two dark-wrapped figures slipped through the shadows in the alleys until they reached the back door of the building they were seeking. The lock wasn't exactly top of the line. Janie had always been the sneaky member of the Blue foursome; she pulled out some small tools from a pocket on the inside of her cloak and worked on the lock while Herb nervously stood guard and bit his tongue to keep from nagging her to go faster. He didn't understand women, but he understood enough about this one woman to know that nagging her never produced desirable results! It seemed like 2 hours, but it was closer to two minutes when the latch clicked open.

It was darker inside than out; Janie pulled a small electric torch from another interior pocket, and they furtively moved through the corridors of the empty, run-down office building looking for the door to Lake Erie Construction. "They sure don't waste any money on their offices, do they?" Herb whispered. The corridor floor needed to be swept and washed, and the paint on the walls was peeling. They found the LEC door; the sign on the frosted glass was neatly painted and looked like it was new.

Herb looked the other way. "I do _not_ want to watch you," he said softly.

Janie chuckled. "Done!" She cautiously opened the door and they slipped inside. Discretely using their torches, they determined that they were in a reception room with a new rug and new furniture. There were no papers on the secretary's desk; it wasn't locked, and the drawers were pretty bare as well, with only office supplies.

The inner office was much the same - brand new accoutrements and a desk devoid of anything interesting. Janie looked through the file cabinets that lined one wall - most of them were empty, but one in the middle was filled with folders - most of which were full of blank pages. They closed all the drawers and snuck back outside, then to their car.

"Geez Louise, that was boring!" Herb swore under his breath. "I can't believe we risked going to jail for _that_!" Janie was disappointed as well, though they were both relieved that they hadn't been caught. Thought they didn't know it, Tubby and Tiffany were having much the same experience at the office of Keystone Construction - though Tubby had boosted Tiffany high enough to climb through an open window and let him in, rather than one of them picking the lock. Tom and Hope, though, were having a much more... interesting experience at the office of Big City Builders.

Big City Construction's office was in downtown's tallest building, not far from City Hall and the Sentinel, and there was some traffic on the street despite the late hour. Tom and Hope split up to walk around the building looking for a discreet way in. When he didn't run into Hope behind the building, Tom continued on and soon found Hope waiting in an open door on the other side.

"It was unlocked," she told him innocently, thinking 'after I slipped my arm under the door, stretched it up to the knob, and then turned it.' She pulled their cloaks out of her large purse and they put them on. Big City Construction was the only company on the second floor, so they snuck up a stairwell. At the top, Tom eased open the door and peeked out. Hope had tried to go first, but Tom figured that he was the experienced costumed hero, as well as being the man of the group, so it was his responsibility. The corridor was empty. It was dimly lit; their dark capes were not going to conceal them very well in the hall.

"We'll have to be extra careful," Tom whispered. To Hope, it sounded almost as if he were yelling. Concealed under her hood and cloak, she'd adopted the body of a humanoid cat to improve her senses and ability to move quietly.

"Thissss way," she hissed quietly, and moved off to the right. They soon found the door to BCC; through the frosted glass they could see that the room beyond was dark. The door was locked, and Tom knew little about picking locks. "I can open it - you keep watchhhhh," Hope whispered. She hoped her whisper would conceal her hiss. She put her hand on the doorknob, concealing it from Tom with the big sleeves of her robe. Inside the sleeve, two of her fingers shrank in diameter and stretched. She slipped them into the keyhole. Once inside one of the fingers glowed with luminescent light and a very small eye appeared on the 'fingertip'. Working deftly with the other finger, Hope was able to figure out the lock mechanism. She shaped her exploratory finger to fit the lock properly, withdrew the one with the eye, converted the 'key finger' into very hard chitin, unlocked the door, and quickly made both fingers normal again.

"How'd you do that?" Tom whispered.

"I used some of the tools from one of the inside pockets," she whispered back, showing him a small roll of tools which she then tucked back into the pocket. "You guys are sure well-equipped for your midnight spook acts!" She was wearing Janie's spare cloak, and Tom had explained about the pockets on their way here.

"Yeah, but where did you learn?" Tom asked.

"Not now, Tom!" she insisted. She didn't know what she was going to tell him later, but maybe he would forget to ask. They slipped into the office and started searching. They found a lot of stuff - unfortunately, neither had any real idea exactly what they needed to find.

"I guess we'll have to take a lot of it with us," Tom suggested. "They'll know somebody was in their office, but they won't know until Monday."

"Umm, Tom, I think they know NOW!" With her cat-keen ears she heard sounds of people climbing the stairs. "Somebody's coming!" She started towards the door, but at that instant, the corridor lights came on. They rushed into the inner office.

"Out the window and down the fire escape!" Tom ordered.

"No use - somebody's down there waiting for us."

The outer door was opened cautiously, then they heard the steps of several men entering the outer room.

"What should we do, Tom?" Hope asked.

"I don't know, never been in a pickle like this before!" he replied. "We could go UP the fire escape to the roof.

"Come outta der wit' yer hands up, see!" a deep voice boomed from the other room. "Building Security!"

"Once we reach the roof, what would we do then?" Hope asked with a sardonic smile.

"OK, take off your robe and stash it!" Tom replied. He suited action to words and their robes were quickly hidden in an empty file drawer. He pulled the tails of Hope's shirt out of the waist of her skirt, and did the same with his own. "Mess up your hair and pretend to be pulling your clothes on when they open the door." It probably wouldn't help, but what the heck?

Enter the Baffler

"OK, youse had your chance. Youse ain't comin' out, so we'se comin' in, and youse won't like it," the same voice said. The door opened, and 3 big, burly men, in ill fitting suits, one of them totally bald, came in, all pointing guns. Tom and Hope quickly put their hands up. The 'Building Security team' saw two young adults, casually dressed, their clothes in mild disarray and their faces flushed.

"Who're youse?" the last one in said. "What youse doin' here?" His voice was higher and a little squeaky.

"We were looking for someplace private..." Tom began.

"Shaddup!' the bald thug said emphatically. He was the one who had given the order for them to come out. He turned to the talker. "It's not our job ta ask da questions, Johnny - we'se just supposed to 'detain' 'em until da boss gets here."

Their captors detained them by forcing them into chairs, tying their hands behind them and gagging them, then placing them back to back and wrapping more ropes around them. And then they waited, but they didn't have to wait too long. A few minutes later, another man joined them. He was short, wearing a black tuxedo, green opera cape, a thin domino mask and a top hat, and carrying a cane.

'That's the Baffler, all right!' Tom thought to himself. 'I guess we hit the jackpot.'

"We'se caught dem sneakin' around, Boss," Johnny offered.

"I can see that, you cretin!" the Baffler snapped. "Did they find anything?"

"Gee, I dunno, boss - we dint have time ta look around yet. But somebody set off d'alarms at d'other offices, too. Jonesy and Donny's checkin' dem out now."

Before either man could say anything else the phone rang. Johnny picked it up. "Yeah?" He listened for a few seconds. "It's Tommy, boss. Somebody's snooping around City Hall."

The Baffler took the phone. "Tommy, you and Jack keep an eye on the snooper at City Hall. If he tries to leave before I get there, slug him." He handed the phone back to his flunky. "You three get these two ready for the short trip."

"Mind if we'se work 'em over first, boss? This job's been sorta, well, boring so far." This was the bald guy again.

"Once you get them back to the warehouse, Jilly, I don't care what you do with them, as long as nobody hears and they end up on the bottom of the lake in cement galoshes when you're done. And keep it quiet here, we don't want any more snoopers." The Baffler turned and swept from the room.

One of the thugs removed the ropes holding the two vigilantes to their chairs, and insured that their hands remained properly bound. Jilly ordered one of the others, "Lenny, bring da car around to da loading dock." The thug who hadn't spoken so far hurried out of the office. Jilly turned to his captives, "We'se goin to da elevator. No funny bizness er ya gets it right here."

On the way to the elevator, Hope stumbled and fell. Jilly roughly pushed Tom onward. "Johnny, slug da skirt in da head and carry 'er. Hurry it up."

Johnny reversed the gun in his hand and bent down to clobber Hope. Before he could, she rolled over. Instead of a cute girl, he was facing a fearsome monster with a mouth wider than his head, filled with more teeth than a shark. He started to scream but it was cut off quickly with a pained gasp as she kicked upwards, once, shifting mass and muscle into her right leg. Willy fell to the floor, moaning, curled up into the fetal position.

Tom took advantage of the distraction - as Jilly turned to see what Johnny was screaming about, Tom lowered his head and drove his shoulder into the small of Jilly's back with all the power in his legs. Jilly's head and shoulders jerked backwards and then he was driven forward. His gun went off and then flew from his hand as his body snapped into an unnatural position, then he fell to the floor with Tom on top of him. He was struggling weakly when Hope stepped up to the two of them and pointed Johnny's gun at his face from only a few inches away.

He stopped struggling. "See how YOU like it, jackass!" she hissed and slugged him with the gun, knocking him out. She turned to Tom and started deftly untying his hands. "Somebody outside must have heard that shot. We should get out of here before the deputies arrive!"

"How'd you get loose?" Tom wanted to know.

"They did a really bad job of tying my hands," she replied evasively. "Maybe they thought I wasn't dangerous because I'm a girl?" They sure hadn't done a good enough job to hold someone who could absorb her hands and wrists into her arms and then instantly re-form them again as soon as the rope dropped away.

"You keep an eye on these guys," Tom whispered. "I'll be back in a few..." He ran lightly back to the office, lay one of the cloaks on the floor, and dumped a lot of papers on it. He then wrapped it up into a bundle and raced back to his friend.

"Y'know, Hope, I'm worried. What if the others get caught? They know about them checking out the other companies, and they know about Damon at City Hall. You heard what the Baffler told his flunkies to do with us. What if the others get caught too? Those guys are my best friends, and these bad guys play rough." There was fear for his friends in Tom's rough whisper - fear she hadn't heard when it was just the two of them in danger.

"We should go to the police, Tom!" she whispered back.

"If Lambert was still the Sheriff, I'd agree with you. But Herb says Bumkiss told them not to do anything without his specific orders, and by the time he even decided to check out our story, it would be too late. We have to get to that warehouse and help them somehow!" he insisted.

"But we don't even know where it is," Hope objected.

"So, we'll have to get Lenny to take us." Tom paused in thought. "Tell you what. I'll sneak into the loading dock from outside, and get as close to the car as I can. Then you stumble through the inside door like somebody pushed you. When Lenny's distracted, I'll jump him and put a gun to his head."

"That's pretty brave, Tom, but don't think it will work. Lenny's probably pretty jumpy after hearing that shot and if he sees you, he'll shoot, and we don't even know what kind of cover there is in the loading dock. Even if it works, he'll probably just refuse to take us to the warehouse. After all, what are _you_ going to do, shoot him? Or, maybe he'll just lead us into a trap. I've got a better idea, but I'm going to have to trust you with a big secret - and then you are going to have to trust me." She was very serious. "You and your friends trusted me with the Blue Boy secret; I think I can trust you with mine."

Tom was mystified and despite the circumstances, more than a little intrigued. He nodded. "Of course you can trust me!"

"Good," Hope replied with a small smile - he didn't know what he was getting into. She hoped this wasn't a mistake. "You're familiar with Plastic Man, right?"

Damon Gets Caught

Detective Damon was quietly ransacking the City Engineer's office. He'd found the building permits for the three structures which had already been blown up. They seemed legit, so he kept looking. All three of the suspect companies had first started applying for permits a couple of years ago. He dumped all the permits from the last 2 years into a briefcase.

He'd noticed that Big City Construction only did jobs for the city, while the other 2 only did private jobs. Contractors for city jobs were always selected by the 'submit your proposal and bid in a sealed envelope, low bidder gets the job' process. In another file cabinet, Damon found folders containing the proposals and bids for most of the city building projects over the past year. However, the detective was unable to find folders that corresponded to four of BCC's permits, and one of those was for the Mill River Bridge. He started stuffing folders for the few other projects that BCC had bid on into his briefcase; he figured it was time to go.

He was too late. Just as he shut the case, Tommy and Jack burst into the room with guns drawn. "Don't move, pally, or I'll blast ya!" Tommy said. Like their pals at the other office, these two were big and well-muscled. Damon figured they had both been construction workers at some time - and even though he thought of himself as a good fighter, he knew he couldn't take both of them, even if he could find a way past their guns.

"Who are you guys?" he snapped at them angrily. "You're going to be in big trouble, busting in here like that and waving guns!"

"Shaddup. We got da gats and we ast da questions!' Jack replied. "Whatta _you_ doin' here?"

"I work here; I was just finishing up some paperwork," Damon answered. Good an answer as any...

"Smart ass, huh?" Tommy barked. "Ain't nobody workin' dis late on a Sat'day. We'se Building Scurity and you'se is under arrest for burgary!" He waved his gun at the detective. "Put down da case and den put yur hands up!"

"Nothing doing!" Damon replied cooly. "Show me some ID!"

While Tommy kept him covered, Jack stepped closer. "Ya want ID, pally? Here!" and and slammed his pistol into the back of Damon's head. The detective collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

Into The Enemy Stronghold

With his hands bound, Tom stumbled through the loading dock door, followed closely by Johnny. "Head for the car, pally," the gangster said gruffly, waving his gun for emphasis. "No fast moves, hear?" Lenny started to get nervous when Jilly didn't follow with Hope.

"Where's Jilly and da skirt?" he asked anxiously. "We gotta be leavin'!"

"Since da Baffler gave d'ese guys ta us, Jilly wants a little private fun wit da broad," Johnny explained with a leer. "Says dey'll catch up wit us."

"Da boss, he ain't gonna like it," Lenny warned.

"He says he won't be long. He'll bring her car wit' 'em and we'se can dump dat inna lake too." Johnny opened the rear passenger door and pushed Tom inside. "Sit up, punk, and you'se get ta live a little longer." He slid in next to Tom.

Lenny had't put the car in gear yet. "Ya knows da boss, he don't like it when guys don' do what he tells 'em ta do."

"You know Jilly's da bosses' pet," Johnny replied angrily. "C'mon, lets git outta here. Jilly kin take care'a his own damn self."

Lenny finally put the car in gear, muttering to himself as he did so. Soon they were racing through the almost deserted streets, headed towards the waterfront area along the inner shore of Presque Island Sound. Radiance wasn't exactly a thriving port these days; without the war to drive shipping on the Great Lakes, and with the rise of long distance trucking, waterfront traffic had been declining for a couple of years. While the area wasn't run down yet, it was dingier than most of the districts in Radiance.

It wasn't long before they pulled up at another loading dock, behind a dilapidated warehouse with a faded sign, "<Something> Trading <something>". Lenny got out and opened the passenger door, pointing his gun at Tom while he got out. Johnny slipped over and followed through the same door, his gun aimed at Tom's back. Lenny led the way into the warehouse. Most of the interior lights were off, though a couple of lights along one wall led to a door with a shining frosted glass window. They herded Tom to that door; Lenny opened the door and Johnny pushed him through hard so he stumbled, fell, and rolled across the floor. The two thugs followed their hapless prisoner through the door.

There were two other men with guns in the office, and 4 bound, blindfolded figures sitting on the floor, their backs propped up against the wall. They laughed as Tom grunted with pain. Johnny grabbed his prisoner and roughly pushed him against the wall as well. One of the laughers turned to Lenny and Johnny. "Where's Jilly? Da boss called and said youse was on da way."

Before Johnny could speak, Lenny answered. "Jilly, he stayed back at d'office with da skirt; Tommy, said he wanted some 'private time' wit 'er," he spit out angrily.

The other thug answered, "Boy, da Baffler ain't gonna like dat!".

"Dat's Jilly's problem, Jack!" Lenny said. "I'm tired'a him bein' da bosses' pet." He swept his hand to indicate the prisoners. "Who's da bundles?"

"Snoopers at d'udder offices!" Jack replied. "Tought they'd got away clean; didn't count on bein' jumped by guys wit gats once dey got outta da offices. Funny ting - all of em was wearing dose tings." He pointed to a pile of dark blue hooded robes lying in a corner. 'Carryin some intersting stuff, too. Maybe deys tryin' ta be da Batman." He laughed, while the others registered disapproval.

"Geez, Jack, clam up, willya? Can't do us no good, you sayin' dat guy's name like dat." Lenny complained.

"Waz he gonna do, swoop over from Gotam in da Batplane? He don't care about some small time burg like Radiance." Still, there was a lull in the conversation, everyone looked around nervously, and nobody brought up the Batman again.

"So what are we gonna do wit dese mugs?" Lenny asked.

"Da boss told us to get dat one dere," Johnny pointed at Tom "and his girlfriend ready for da short walk. But he din't say nutin' bout the rest of 'em. Maybe we better wait fer him ta get back. Bumpin off all sixa dem tonight, da coppers might cop wise." He paused suddenly, turned his ear to the door as if listening.

"What's wrong, Johnny?" Tommy wanted to know.

"Din't youse hear dat?" he replied. "I'm gonna take a look." He opened the door cautiously and slipped out. A few seconds later, there were several gunshots, one of which shattered the frosted glass window, briefly filling the office with a painful spray of shattered glass, Outside they heard a thump, like a body falling to the cement floor, and then silence. The other thugs pulled their guns and took cover and Jack shut off the lights. The 'bundles' could hear the thugs taking up positions where they could cover the door.

"We better scram, fellas!" Lenny whispered. "Head fer da back!"

"What about Johnny?" Jack whispered. "We gotta help 'im!"

"Screw him!" Lenny whispered back succinctly. "John Law'll be here quick after dem shots. Head fer da back!" he insisted, more urgently.

Suddenly the lights came on and the fighting mad Blue Boys and Miss Redhead attacked the three mobsters. Jack was on his hands and knees, just starting to get up, when Janie landed on his back, knees first. His arms collapsed and his chin bounced off the thin carpet. His gun went off and the bullet from the wild shot crashed into the wall, fortunately missing everyone else. Tubby kicked his gun hand and the gun went skittering across the floor. Lenny was just starting to stand and turn, and he turned right into a haymaker launched by Herb, which straightened him up. He staggered backwards against the desk, which put him further off balance, and Herb moved in.

Tommy was quicker than his friends; he had time to roll over and lift his gun, but Tom was coming in low. He dove as if making a late tackle and used a nasty trick that had been used on him once in high school, he made sure his knee landed in a very vulnerable spot, and the thug screamed in pain.

The three thugs were all big, tough guys, and this fight was far from over. Lenny rolled over, throwing Janie off him and into Tubby's legs, and managed to get to his feet while Tubby was trying to regain his balance. Even though he was

only half-conscious, Lenny launched a flurry of quick punches, more to give himself time to recover than to hurt Tubby. Tubby took two quick steps backwards, momentarily getting just far enough away that he was able to bring his hands up in a classic boxing pose. The two men looked at each other for an instant; then Lenny snarled and started swinging again. The fight looked lopsided, as Lenny was several inches taller than Tubby, and for another few seconds, all Tubby could do was try to block or dodge Lenny's wild but very powerful blows. He didn't totally succeed; a blow to the jaw snapped his head around and he saw stars.

Herb quickly launched some powerful blows at his own foe. Jack still had his gun, and Herb didn't want to take chances. After a punch in the chin slowed his opponent, he stepped in and grabbed the thug's gun hand with both of his own. "Honey," he gasped, as the gunman started pounding on him with his free hand, "a little help here..."

Tom grabbed Tommy's gun hand and slammed it down on the thin carpet. This was both a bad and a good move; Tommy screamed in pain when his hand hit, and he pulled the trigger as his hand convulsed. The bullet tore through the office door. Tom tore the gun from the thug's unresponsive hand an instant later. Tommy threw Tom off of him with his other hand and climbed to his feet before the younger man could recover.

The thugs were outnumbered, and they didn't have their guns, but now that they had weathered the initial storm, they liked their chances.

Lenny stepped forward and took a poke at Herb, and then the door crashed open. Donny used the distraction to dive for his piece, which was on the floor behind the door. With any luck, this would be the Boss, but nothin' else had gone right tonight. He wanted to be armed just in case they had some more bad luck.

Instead of the Baffler, (ex) Detective Damon pushed into the room and trained a gun on Jonesy. "OK, you guys get your hands up!" he ordered harshly. He didn't look so good - he'd been roughed up in the 'custody' of Tommy, Jack, and the Baffler, and he was pretty angry.

"Rush 'em! He can't get us all!" Lenny said.

"Ya BUM! It ain't you he's pointin' dat gat at!" Jonesy complained loudly.

"No need ta worry, boys!" Donny said menacingly as he stepped up behind Damon and poked the gun in the back of his head. "Ever'tin's under control! Drop da gat, copper!"

"You're wrong about that, pally," Damon chuckled as he slowly bent over to put down the gun. "We can still do this the easy way. You boys can save yourselves a lot of pain if you surrender now." He casually moved forward a couple of steps as he straightened up, and Donny took a step forward, unconsciously following his target. His back was now to the door.

"Shaddup, copper!" Donny snarled. The other thugs started moving to pick up their own guns, then stopped at a noise outside the door - and looks of horror came over their faces. Damon dropped to the floor too quickly for Donny to pull the trigger.

The other thugs were gibbering in terror. "Oh, crap! What's he doin' here?" "F#(%in big mouth Jonesy!" Donny started to whirl around, and as he did so, a fist, hard as a rock and covered in a dark gray glove, hammered him in the side of the jaw, and he dropped instantly to the floor without even a moan. Following the punch like a bolt of gray lightning, the Batman surged into the room.

Batman to the Rescue

"Cheeze, we give up!" Jonesy yelled, as he and Lenny scuffled backwards until their backs were pressed tightly against the wall, cringing in submission. "I ain't fightin' wit' da Batman!"

"These thugs won't give us any more trouble," Batman predicted confidently in his deep, almost sepulchral voice. "Tom, why don't you, Tuffy and Detective Damon go drag in the Baffler and his other two flunkies? Damon can show you where they're tied up." He turned to the rest of the young adults and smiled, winking at Tiffany, who had been dumbfounded since she had first seen the Cowled Crusader.' Herb was startled at the use of his old nickname - nobody had called him Tuffy in years. Of course, the Blue Boys and Little Miss Redhead hadn't encountered the Batman since the War, either.

"Sure thing, Batman! Hey, it's really great to see you again!" Tom agreed enthusiastically. "Glad you remembered us, and thanks for coming in response to my message!" He started for the door, followed by Damon.

Herb took a couple of steps after them, then stopped and stuck his hand out. "Thanks for the save, Batman!" He hesitated, then continued diffidently, "Say, nobody calls me Tuffy anymore - it's Herb, OK?"

The Batman shook his hand firmly and grinned. "Sure thing... Herb!"

"Why don't the rest of you start tying up these guys?" Batman asked the remaining adventurers. Janie and Tubby started trussing the hoods up in their own ropes, while the Batman kept a careful watch, ready to clobber any thug who tried to make trouble. "You look a lot trimmer than last time we met, Tade," the Darknight Detective commented.

Tubby groaned. "Aww, say, Herb kin use his real name iffen he wanna, Mr. Batman, but I poifer Tubby. Who ever hoid'a some-un wit'..." he paused "dat utter moniker?"

"Tubby must be nervous, Mr. Batman - he's worked for years to get rid of his 'accent'. Thinks it makes him sound like he came from the streets," Janie spoke up. She sounded a little nervous herself.

Batman looked at her and winked again. "I see you're not so little any longer, Miss Redhead. You've grown up nicely. Robin will be sorry he stayed in Gotham. And, by the way, it's just Batman. After all, we're old friends."

"Sure, Mr. err, sure Batman," Tubby stuttered. "Hey, I'd likya ta meet my fiance, Tiffany Wilkins."

Batman turned to the starstruck Tiffany. "You've got a fine young man, here, Miss Wilkins. He's probably never told you about the time he saved my life." She shook her head, still unable to talk.

"Robin and I had been captured by a Big City gang boss. He left us tied up in a warehouse filled with dynamite and a timer. I'd already warned the boys and Miss Redhead to stay out of the fight, but Tubby, here, ignored my orders and snuck into the place to cut us free. We almost didn't make it out in time. That's where he got that big scar on his leg."

Tubby didn't remember saving Batman's life. He actually _had_ gone into the warehouse to rescue the 2 heroes, and he had the scar where he'd been struck by flying debris to prove it, but they'd already freed themselves. He hadn't really expected the world-famous hero to remember, though, or to credit Tubby with saving his life!

At this praise for her fiance, Tiffany finally got up the nerve to speak. "He's so modest,"" she tittered "He always told me he fell off a scooter." She took her fiance's hand, "He'll always be... My Hero!"

Damon, Herb and Tom came back through the door, dragging 3 bedraggled hoods behind them. They were tied in strips of their own clothing, plus scraps of rope and wire that Detective Damon and the Batman had found in the old warehouse.

"Herb, you and Janie should go find a payphone and call the Sheriff's office," Damon suggested. "Bumkiss probably wouldn't believe me."

"Don't you carry a police radio in your utility belt, Batman?" Janie asked eagerly. She'd been the one who had sewed the equipment pockets into the hooded cloaks worn by the 4 young heroes when they patrolled Radiance, and she was curious to see exactly how Batman managed to conceal a radio in one of his small belt compartments.

"Ah..." Batman spoke slowly, seemingly taken off-guard at the question, but he recovered quickly. "Sorry, I already tried it - it got smashed in battle with these 3 'gentlemen'," he replied, pointing at the latest prisoners. "Guess Robin was right when he said we should carry spares."

He turned towards the door. "I'll walk you two out, and then I have to get back to Gotham. The Batplane's double-parked," he quipped. "Make sure you get the whole story from these guys, Detective," he suggested to Damon as he left the room. "There's more going on here than you're aware of yet."

There was a pay phone only a couple of blocks away. When they reached it, Batman handed Herb a gun that had belonged to one of the thugs. "You two take care of yourselves; good to work with you again!"

Just at that moment, a car roared around the corner, tires squealing, and for just an instant, Herb and Janie were blinded by the vehicle's high beams. When their vision cleared, Batman was gone.

Herb wasn't about to turn their prisoners over to Sheriff Bumkiss, so he called ex-sheriff Lambert instead. In a few minutes, Lambert and several deputies showed up at the warehouse. "Nice work, all! Next job I have, if you ever need work, come see me!" 'he praised the group effusively when he arrived. 'If I ever work again,' he thought ruefully. 'I wonder how Bumkiss is going to take the credit for this?'

"Sir, did someone go to the offices of Big City Construction? Batman and I left Hope Hazard there to guard a couple of tied-up thugs," Tom anxiously asked the ex-Sherriff. "He gassed them before we left and said he was sure she'd be OK, but I'm still worried!"

"A couple of patrol cars got there while we were on our way here," one of the deputies reported, "and they radioed that she was OK. Apparently the Batman stopped there after he left here, just to check up on her." Relieved, Tom thanked the man.

"OK, let's take them back to the jail," Lambert ordered.

"Don't forget, John - you aren't the Sheriff any more," Damon warned. "Foxcroft and Bumkiss might not be really happy to see us."

"If Foxcroft doesn't reinstate him, they're going to have to hire a whole new Sheriff department," Herb replied. "We had a union meeting earlier today, and everyone - all the deputies, the clerks, secretaries, the receptionist, and even the janitors - are all going to go out on strike, or quit if we need to, if we don't get Sheriff Lambert back."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, son," Lambert replied, a little flustered. "It would look real bad on your records, and make it almost impossible for any of you to ever get hired in law enforcement again."

"We know that," Herb agreed defiantly. "We're all sure that even the Mayor isn't _that_ stupid."

Chaos in the Sheriff's Office

The prisoners were properly cuffed and stuffed into squad cars, and they were all soon delivered to the Sheriff's Office. The Baffler was taken into a distant room for questioning, while the others were held in the jail's 3 small cells.

"This is more prisoners than I've ever seen in a whole year," the oldest man present, Senior Deputy Grahame, commented in amazement. He'd been a deputy for over 20 years.

Lambert and Damon were interrogating the Baffler when there was a disturbance in the main office. Sheriff Bumkiss had arrived. Once they realized what the fuss was about, the two went back to their business of asking questions.

"You can't go in there, sir," Herb said respectfully as he stopped Bumkiss from entering the interrogation room. "There's an interview in process, and Sheriff Lambert doesn't like to be interrupted."

"The Hell I can't! He's not the Sheriff, I AM! Get the Hell out of my way!" Bumkiss snapped. A couple more deputies stepped over and stood behind Herb, their faces stern. Bumkiss looked at the wall of blue in front of him and turned away, muttering threats. The deputies relaxed, but Bumkiss surprised them by turning back and running past them to the interrogation room before anyone could stop him. "Lambert and Damon, get the hell out of my jail or I'll have you arrested!" he screamed as he pounded on the door.

There was no response from within the room, so Bumkiss turned to the deputies who were approaching him. "You've got one more chance - break down that door and arrest them, or I'll fire you all."

Tiffany ran into the hallway from the Sheriff office, carrying a thin book. "Sorry, sir, but _you_ can't fire them," Tiffany spoke up. She held up the book so that everyone could see the Radiance city shield on the cover. "According to the city by-laws, Section 2, Paragraph 2, the Sheriff must be duly elected by the citizens of Radiance. While the Mayor is within his rights to remove a Sheriff for cause, the by-laws clearly state that the position of temporary Sheriff devolves to the highest-ranking deputy until a special election can be called." She held out the book. "Here, you can read it yourself - you can't fire them because they don't work for you, they work for Acting Sheriff Grahame." Several of the deputies cheered; Grahame looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Bumkiss sputtered and then smashed the book out of her hand. "I was legally appointed by the Mayor, and I'm the Sheriff until he says otherwise!"

Grahame stepped forward. "You had better calm down, Mr. Bumkiss, or I'll be forced to arrest you. We can hold you until the legal eagles figure it all out." He didn't look happy - Herb knew that Grahame had always avoided situations which forced him to exercise authority.

Bumkiss finally realized that he was not only outnumbered, but that the deputies were reaching the end of their patience. He turned and stomped into 'his' office, than slammed and locked the door. He was muttering about the calling Mayor, abusing duly appointed authority, notifying the State Police, contacting the Governor, and mobilizing the National Guard until the slamming door cut him off.

Not long afterwards, the Mayor arrived. He joined Bumkiss in the Sheriff office and they had a short conversation, followed immediately by a loud argument. It ended when the Mayor screamed at the top of his lungs

"Shut your f*{#!|| mouth or you won't even be a member of the g@**&~||*d City Council by tomorrow!" and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him and shaking the entire building. He stood still for a minute, until his heavy breathing slowed somewhat, and then he walked imperiously into the interrogation room. Nobody dared to get in his way or even speak to him; after all, while they had never worked for Bumkiss, they had always worked for the Mayor.

Lambert and Damon were dismayed when the Mayor quietly slipped into the room, but to their surprise, he closed the door softly, sat down on a chair in the corner, and closely observed the interrogation with intense interest. He didn't even interfere with them when they got a little 'rough with their prisoner; their techniques weren't quite legal but, after all, this guy had killed some of his citizens - and a quick, highly publicized conviction would help him in next year's election.

An Interesting Story

Questioning elicited an interesting story. Damon later wrote it up in narrative form:

"The man we arrested as the Baffler turned out not to be the Baffler after all, but Mark Page, a.k.a. Cinders, a rising star in the rackets in Big City, About 3 years ago, Cinders says he got a phone call, and the caller made him an offer he couldn't resist - come to Radiance, be the top crime boss, and make lots of money in the crooked construction business as well. Cinders got his start and his nickname in a crooked construction company in Big City; he was the perfect guy to run this scheme, and the scheme was perfectly suited for him."

"Cinders and his favorites, the other guys we brought in from the warehouse, pulled a couple of jobs to build up their nut, and then they beat it out of Big City and set up here. Within a couple of months, they'd got some contracts by being the low bidders, and the first couple of contracts, they played it straight, even though they were just barely breaking even. Then when they were established as legitimate, they turned coy, and put in mostly bids they knew would get rejected - but somehow they still managed to be the 'low bidder' on the most lucrative jobs."

"They used cheap, substandard construction materials and skimmed a bundle off the top. They knew that someday, something would go wrong in one of their completed buildings, and they'd get busted, so they made plans for that in advance. They built caches of dynamite right into the structures they were building, and rigged up a hidden switch in each structure that sent power to a slow timer. So nobody saw anyone planting bombs; all they had to do was get somebody into a building, or a maintenance nook in one of the bridge supports - and a couple of days later - BOOM! The plan was perfect - they kept the profits they'd skimmed, plus whatever they could extort from the city."

"Cinders swears that somebody in town helped him set up everything, and told him what jobs to bid on, even suggested the Baffler disguise and the riddles, but he had no idea who his unseen partner was. None of his henchmen ever overheard him talking to the partner, but he doesn't seem smart enough to even plan something this complex on his own, much less carry it off for so long."

"Jonesy was the guy who actually flipped the switches in the places that blew up. When he heard that Cinders ratted on him, he went a little crazy - even with cuffs on, it took 4 guys to keep him from hurting himself, trying to bust out of the cell. I wouldn't want to be Page if they're ever in the same room together; his new nickname might be something like 'Pebbles'."

The Mayor didn't speak up until Lambert and Damon were questioning Cinders about his unknown partner. Cinders insisted he didn't know - and Lambert was pretty sure he was telling the truth. But Foxcroft didn't care.

"It doesn't matter whether he really knew or not. It's obvious who it had to be!" Foxcroft interrupted with a sniff. "Someone who could make sure his companies always won the contracts, regardless of their bids. Someone who would make sure they got building permits, regardless of how shoddy their project proposals were. Someone who could guarantee that their substandard work never failed a city inspection. It has to be Dagwood Vardol, the City Engineer!"

He turned to Cinders, his face ruddy with rage, screamed "You have $400 grand of my city's money, scumbag, and I want it back!" He was practically frothing at the mouth; Cinders closed his eyes and turned his head aside to escape the flying spittle.

"You ain't gettin' me on dat, too! I never touched dat dough. Da guy on da phone, he picked it up. Was sposed to meet us at da warehouse tonight to give us our split. He prolly saw dat we wuz in trouble and took off. The bastid!" No amount of questions, threats, or mild physical persuasion could get him to change his story. The only other information they got from their prisoner was that the 'cut' taken by the mysterious voice for the shoddy construction jobs had been more than six hundred thousand dollars.

Finally, Lambert called an end to the questioning. Before they left the room, Foxcroft stopped them both and spoke, reluctantly. "Um...I was...er, ah, perhaps I was..." he seemed to be having trouble finding the right word. "Um, perhaps I was a little bit hasty in releasing the two of you..." Having got that much out of the way, he returned to his usual brisk manner, giving the two a peremptory order: "Find Vardol and get back that money!"

Deputy Grahame was thrilled to find out he was no longer the acting Sheriff, and he quickly took several other deputies, including Herb, to arrest City Engineer Vardol. Who, predictably, wasn't found at his apartment. As Herb later told his friends:

"Vardol is in his early 50's; been the City Engineer for almost 30 years. Skinny guy, kept mostly to himself, never got married and didn't have many friends. His apartment was what you might expect - tiny, sparsely furnished with really old furniture, probably bought second-hand, almost no decorations, but you could see that he normally kept it neat as a pin.

"Musta kept the cash in his mattress - it was zipped open and the stuffing was strewn around on the bedroom floor. And he was definitely in a hurry - there was at least a grand in crumpled bills mixed in with the mattress stuffing. We also found a few items of ratty old clothes and the crumpled receipt for a set of expensive new luggage scattered with the stuffing. Damon figures he was in a hurry. He had over a mil in cash, so he didn't bother with the pocket change, just took his clothes and cleared out."

"His car was missing, too. We've sent out BOLOs on his car and plates to the Pennsylvania, New York, and Ohio State Police, and asked the Mounties to keep an eye out for him at Niagara Falls. He can't have gone too far yet; he only picked up the cash 12 hours ago and did some shopping and packing afterward. There weren't any scheduled flights out of the airport in that time, and only one train, so we're sent wire photos to him to all the train stops along the way.

"Goodness, this has been a busy day, and we've been up all night," Tiffany yawned, which caused all her friends to yawn as well - except for Hope. "Maybe we should all watch the sun come up, go to early morning Mass, and then go home for some sleep. "Things should be calmer today - I hope!"

It Doesn't Add Up

'It just doesn't add up!' Hope mused to herself the next afternoon. 'Nobody who knows him believes that Vardol would do something like that. Everyone agrees that he really was 'squeaky-clean' all his life. He went to church every Sunday and volunteered at the soup kitchen every Wednesday. He put out scraps for stray cats at night, and every Saturday he fed pigeons in the park.'

She'd learned a lot about Vardol at work today, and heard a lot of theories - every reporter at the paper had a pet angle. And they'd all sat in her office and given her all the details, as each reporter tried to convince Wall to assign him to the story: 'He's been a crook all along, and he finally got too greedy,' followed by 'he was getting old and desperate and saw a chance to make a big killing', followed by 'he found out he was dying and he needed money to pay his medical bills' to 'he finally found a girlfriend, and needed a lot of money to court her.'

The two theories that drew the most ridicule from the other reporters were: 'it wasn't Vardol at all, he was secretly replaced by his evil twin brother a few years ago' and 'it wasn't Vardol at all, he was secretly replaced by an alien shape shifter from outer space a few years ago.' That last one had seriously intrigued her: she could do that, if she wanted to! It depressed her as well - would people start thinking SHE was an alien when they found out what she could do? Could she actually BE an alien from outer space?

No matter how many people laughed at the 'it wasn't really Vardol; someone took his place' theories, Hope knew they couldn't be discounted. But they didn't seem right to her. Some of the people with stories to tell had known the ex-City Engineer for years, and they had never noticed a change in his behavior. He lived in the same place he always had, same furniture, shopped in the same places, wore the same styles of clothes all the time. If someone else had replaced him, wouldn't _someone_ have noticed changes in his behavior?

She had other, more solid objections as well. 'Why didn't Vardol run this kind of scam 20 years ago, when he had already established an above-suspicion reputation, and he was young enough to enjoy the money? Supposedly he's running away with over a million dollars, but Vardol never spent a penny more than he had to on anything, even in the years since this scam started working. And why did he leave behind the money in the mattress stuffing, but buy a new set of luggage to take all his threadbare old clothes with him? With just that thousand dollars that he apparently didn't care about losing, he could easily have purchased an entire new wardrobe, with enough left over to buy a new car!'

Mayor Foxcroft's office door crashed open, followed closely by a man dressed neatly in a business suit, wearing a fedora. "I'm sorry, Hutchey," wailed Miss Farrell. "He just wouldn't stop..."

"That's OK, Miss Farrell," the Mayor replied through gritted teeth. His look said otherwise. She quailed as she realized she had used her private nickname for him... in public!

Foxcroft examined the intruder closely, but didn't recognize him. "Leave the door open and call Trombley; this gentleman will be leaving shortly." He turned to his 'visitor'. "You can save yourself a lot of trouble by leaving right now, jackass." The man shrugged, seemingly not caring about future trouble "Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you want? How dare you invade my office!?" the Mayor demanded, further enraged by the intruder's nonchalance.

"Why, my name is Steve Zodiac, Mr. Foxcroft. I'm a private investigator. I'd like to ask you some questions about City Engineer Vardol and the man who was pretending to be the Baffler."

"Then go talk to the cursed Sheriff's Office!" Foxcroft exploded. "They know everything I know! Besides, that case is wrapped up."

"No, Mr. Foxcroft, it's not. Vardol is still missing."

"So," the Mayor replied, his voice a little less loud, "you're looking for Vardol? Who are you working for?"

"I was hired by Mr. Nestor Newman. His wife and baby daughter were killed in the explosion of the Lakeside Apartments. Now, can I ask you some questions?"

Foxcroft expected Trombley any second; it would be easier to humor the man until his 'aide' arrived to escort him out of the building. "I've never heard of you. Are you licensed in Radiance?"

"Actually, I work out of Redcliff, Ohio. Nestor and his wife had only recently moved here from Redcliffe. We've been friends for years." Zodiac replied, calmly. "Here's my license."

He pulled out his wallet, quickly flipped it open to show a stylized badge. It looked official enough, though he didn't give Foxcroft time to examine the photo or the text that proclaimed that Steven Zodiac was licensed PI # 3X2 (9YZ) 4A, certified by the State of Ohio and signed by the Chief of the Redcliff police force. Zodiac quickly flipped the wallet shut again and slipped it into his pocket.

"Did you hire Vardol, Mr. Foxcroft?" Zodaic asked

"I did not," Foxcroft replied with asperity. "He's been with the city since the 1920s. I was elected in 1948."

"Were there ever any problems with him before this?" Zodiac quickly continued his questioning. "Any indications that he might be crooked?"

"I would hardly know that, Mr. Zodiac. The City Manager handles personnel matters." Foxcroft replied, growing more angry as time passed. "Farrell, where the hell is Trombley?" he yelled at his hapless secretary.

"I don't know, Mr. Mayor," she said plaintively, shaking her head. "The intercoms and phones aren't working."

"Damn it, show a little initiative and go find him, then!" he roared. He turned back to Zodiac. "We're through, here, Zodiac. Now get out of my office before I have you thrown out!"

"Mr. Foxcroft, I'm here at the request of one of your taxpayers, a taxpayer who recently suffered a grievous loss - because a building certified as safe by your City Engineer exploded. My client is considering a lawsuit for willful negligence against the City of Radiance. If you won't answer my questions, it will look like you have something to hide. Remember, the election is coming up soon."

"Are you trying to insinuate that I might have had something to do with the extortion scheme against MY city?" Foxcroft was back to roaring. It still didn't seem to impress Zodiac one bit.

"I'm trying to discover the truth about Vardol, so we can be sure the mastermind behind that extortion scheme is discovered and sent to trial. You may know something that can help me. It's only a few questions, after all."

Foxcroft made a clear effort to calm down. "Well, since you're looking for Vardol... I'm sorry, Mister Zodiac. I'm a little on edge today. The vanishing ransom left Radiance with a $400 thousand dollar hole in the budget - plus we have to replace the bridge, and make sure the other buildings built by that maggot who pretended to be the Baffler and my crooked, lying ex-Engineer are safe. And, our insurance company is disinclined to make good our loss. I hope you can find Vardol, but I really don't have the time to help you right now. Talk to the City Manager. Talk to Vardol's secretary. Talk to the Sheriff or anyone else you need to - but leave me alone so I can get back to work!"

Zodiac kept right on asking questions. "Why do you think that Page and his partner started their scheme shortly after you were elected, Mr. Mayor? Why do you think so many bids placed by Page's companies are missing from Vardol's files? The building plans and proposals Page submitted are laughable - they look like they were developed by someone who flunked out of architectural school during his first semester. How was it that nobody ever noticed? Why did you insist on taking back the keys to City Hall from the Sheriff's office so they couldn't patrol the building at night? Is there anyone besides you and the head janitor who has keys to every door in the building?"

At that moment Trombley rushed into the office, a big, beefy guy with thinning brown hair over a ruddy red face. "Cheez, I'm sorry, Mr. Mayor, Sir!" he puffed. "Somebody cut the phone wires in my office." He turned to Zodiac. "Glad you'ze still here, buddy. I'm gonna enjoy this!"

He reached for Zodiac's neck with his left hand; the PI knocked his hand aside. "Hands off the suit, bub. My dry cleaning bill is through the roof already!"

Trombley didn't bother talking any longer, but took a wild swing that would have leveled Zodiac if it landed. But he ducked easily, then stood back up as the off-balance thug recovered, his cocked fists held high in the classic boxing stance - except that his right was extended further. He was left handed... or at least he boxed left-handed. "You're the kind of guy who answers my 'Help Wanted' ads looking for a job as a detective - and the reason I still work alone," he quipped as he blocked another wild swing at his head.

Trombley wasn't as wild as his punches appeared, and as the PI blocked the head shot, the thug slammed a haymaker into his midsection. Zodiac grunted but otherwise seemed unaffected, while Trombley screamed in pain, as if he had just punched a brick wall! He sank to the floor on his knees and held his wrist with his other hand, tears running out of his eyes.

"Bulletproof vest," Zodiac said, sotto voice, then ignored the injured thug and turned back to the Mayor.

"Thanks for your time, Mr. Mayor. You've been very helpful. I may come back later if I have any further questions." He turned and walked into the outer office. The foul comments the Mayor spat after him were drowned out by the Trombley's agonized screams.

Miss Farrell was in the hall outside her office, leaning against the wall, trembling and sobbing. "Say, Sheryl, you're very cute. Would you consider having dinner with me?"

"How DARE you?" she hollered, and she slapped him hard on the cheek, moving so fast he didn't have time to dodge. He did manage to roll his head slightly, and lessen the impact of the blow. "I just know he's going to fire me, and it's YOUR FAULT!" she choked out At that moment, Foxcroft started yelling her name. With a shrug, Zodiac turned and walked away.

Late that night, three disreputably dressed men lurked furtively in the shadows in a narrow alley off a side street in a dingy business district near the Radiance docks. One stuck his head out to examine the street, quickly pulled back. "Get ready, ya mugs, here he comes."

On the street, Private Detective Steve Zodiac approached his office. 'The neighborhood isn't so great, but the rent is cheap enough,' he thought to himself. 'I feel just like one of those down-on-his-luck dicks in the pulps.'

A few seconds later, two of the trio yanked Zodiac violently into the alley and the third one smashed a vicious blow to his jaw. The PI collapsed and the two men holding him let him fall to the ground. "Guess the tough guy's got a glass jaw," the puncher snorted. "Well, we're supposed to rough him up good. Stand him up, boys, so I can knock him down again!"

As the two bent down to grab his shoulders again, Zodiac exploded back to life. A rock-hard fist launched from the pavement like a V2 rocket, catching a surprised mugger square on the jaw, and he straightened up, staggered backwards, and collapsed heavily to the sidewalk.

"l'll show you a glass jaw, punk!" the detective snarled as he tried to scramble to his feet.

As he got to his hands and knees, the standing man launched a kick as his stomach; impossibly, the PI arched his back and seemed to stretch away from the kick, and though he let out an "Oomph!" when it landed, the impact was much less satisfying than the thug had hoped. And then he screamed as the detective's stomach seemed to wrap around his foot, then stopped screaming when Zodiac twisted into another almost impossible position and pulled his other leg out from under him. He managed to get his arms out to break his fall against the pavement, but he gasped in pain as he heard a crack from his left wrist.

The last active thug stepped back, pulled his gat, and fired twice, and Zodiac collapsed to the street. The gunner then took off, running at top speed into the deeper shadows of the alley.

The one who Zodiac had tripped tried to lever himself to his feet and screamed in agony when he put his weight on his wrist. "God damn you to hell, Mugsy, you lily-livered yellow-bellied son of a $!^@#! Get back here and help me with Ziggy!"

Far down the alley, Mugsy slowed uncertainly to a halt. He turned and saw one of his partners supporting the other as they staggered towards him. He turned away again to keep running, and his partner swore.

"You get back here, chicken man, or I'll shoot you myself!" There was a flash from the shouting thug's gun and a trash can next to Mugsy jumped and screeched, crumpling around a bullethole, almost at the same instant that he heard the gunshot. "You know I don't miss unless I want to, you yellow weasel! Now help me with Ziggy!"

"Geez, Zach, I'm sorry, by now somebody musta heard shots and called the Sheriff by now. Da cops'll be here inna minute!" the terrified Mugsy whimpered. "I can't go back to the can, I just can't!"

"Shaddup, you yellow creep! You'll be goin' to the morgue if you ever run out on me again!" Zach promised in a snarl, aiming his pistol at Mugsy's waist. "Last chance! Grab his other arm and let's get outta here or I'll blast your percker inta teeny weeny shreds!"

Shaking with fear, Mugsy clumsily managed to drape Zach's arm around his shoulder, and the three shuffled off into the shadows as fast as they could move, half carrying and half dragging the semi-conscious Ziggy, 'running' from the faint but growing wail of police sirens approaching.

They hadn't gone too far before Ziggy revived enough to walk without being carried, though he still wasn't very steady on his feet. "Man, that guy could $!^@#n HIT!" he moaned.

Zach wasn't in any mood to commiserate. "Ah, shaddup, willya? Bad enough I had to carry you with a broken wrist," he held his arm out, his wrist and hand were bruised and swollen."

"Would you guys quitcher bellyachin?" Mugsy complained. "You're gonna wake up the whole damn neighborhood!"

"Shadddup, Mugsy. If you hadn't pulled your gat, we wouldn't be needing to sneak around like this!'

"Yeah, he'd already knocked out Ziggy and busted your arm. I wasn't gonna be next!"

"We was only sposed ta rough 'im up good."

"Ixnay! The guy what hired us said he wanted da dick offa da case. Well, he sure ain't onna case no longer!"

"You're gonna be the one that tells 'im that Zodiac's dead."

"Would you shaddup about the dead guy?"

"Aww, you shaddup, ya mug, I'll shut you up!"

"Oh, yeah? You and what army?"

The bickering continued until they reached a run-down boarding house."Now shaddup!' Mugsy insisted. "If Old Lady Faffer hears us, she'll throw us out this time!" The three shut up and climbed the external stairs to their second-floor apartment. They'd rather face their unknown patron any time than an angry Mrs. Faff!

Ziggy picked up the phone. "Yes Operator, please connect me to EArth-2, 1, 9, 5, 1. Yes, I know that's a private number and I know it's the middle of the &*%%@#^ night! What'm I, blind? Stop yammerin and place da call, ya loudmout witch!"

The call was brief, unpleasant, and very loud. After his initial report, Mugsy didn't get a chance to say anything else - he held the phone a foot from his ear and cringed. The other 2 could hear their patron clearly. When he slammed down the phone, Mugsy sagged in relief. "Geez - he must learned to cuss from my last girlfriend!"

Ziggy laughed, relieved that he hadn't had to bear the brunt of that fire hose of profanity. He heard a grunt of pain behind him, and then a thud like a body hitting the floor, and as he turned to see what was going on, his world exploded in pain and a flash of white light, radiating from his chin. The pain didn't last long, another blow smashed into his jaw and he made his own thump as he fell to the floor unconscious.

Late Night for the Mayor

There was a light on in the master bedroom in the mansion the City of Radiance provided for its elected Mayor. Foxcroft sat at his desk, seething in anger, while Sheryl Farrell sat on the mattress, dressed in a flimsy wisp of almost nothing. Her voice was timid and shaking.

"Hey, Foxy, why don't you come back to bed? I can make you feel better."

"Shaddup, ya tramp! Get yer ass outta here; I seen enough'a you for one night." She started sobbing, but didn't argue, just started to pick up her clothes where they'd landed earlier. "I said NOW!" Foxcroft roared, and pushed her roughly out the door to the bedroom. She stumbled and fell to the floor. "Keep going or I'll have Luigi toss ya! And you damn well better be on time to work tomorrow!" he yelled as he slammed the bedroom door.

At that instant the phone rang again. "I swear I'm gonna pull that %#$&%$ thing right outta the wall!" he yelled. After two angry strides he picked up the handset. "This better be real (>&<?\|?in good!" he yelled

"Billy? Wash da matter? You sound mad about shomethin," a slurred female voice greeted him.

"This isn't Billy!" Foxcroft roared. "Don't you know it's 3 AM!?"

"Aww, c'mon, Billy, doan be mad. Howabout I come over and scheer you up?" she continued.

"This is a private number. If you call it again, I'll find out who you are and have you arrested!" Foxcroft promised, and then slammed down the phone. "Can this night get any worse?" he $!^@#ed. He pressed the intercom button on the phone; at least something was going right, Luigi picked up before the second ring. "Bring me a hot toddy, Luigi," the Mayor ordered his gentleman's gentleman. "And a snack."

Foxcroft had just started eating his grilled cheese and onion sandwich when the bedroom door flew open and smashed a hole in the wall behind it, and in stomped... Steve Zodiac!

Epilogue - Steve Zodiac Heads to New York!

"I followed the three muggers back to their place, and overheard the phone number they called to report to the guy that hired them. And then I called that number myself, and the Mayor answered," Steve Zodiac was almost finished telling his story to Detective Damon. "He attacked me and I flattened him. And in his safe I found the satchel with the 'ransom money' ponied up by the city last week."

"You took two shots and don't even have a bullet hole in you to show for it?" Damon asked, disbelievingly. "You one of those super heroes? Come to think of it," he mused, stroking his chin, "the Batman was here for a while, and he works with Superman all the time. Could it be..."

"Hey, hold on!" Zodiac interrupted, laughing. "Just a bulletproof vest, see?" He pulled open his shirt, which had two ragged holes in the side, to show a bulletproof vest with several dings in it. "These two, right here," he said as he touched two of the dents, which lay right under the holes in the shirt.

"Well I'll be damned! That was good work, Zodiac!" Damon replied. "So, Foxcroft was the boss and Vardol was in on it too?"

"I don't know anything about Vardol; he wasn't talking to me." Zodiac grinned, Foxcroft had been unconscious about 3 seconds after he'd seen the PI enter his bedroom, and still hadn't awakened by the time the deputies had arrived. "I don't see how he could have pulled off the bidding and permit scams without Vardol's help, though," the PI replied. "With Vardol gone, maybe we'll never know. Personally, though, I think he's somewhere on the bottom of Lake Erie, feeding the fish."

"We'll find out when _we_ interrogate Foxcroft," Damon promised resolutely. "Thanks for leaving at least something for me and the Sheriff's Department to figure out." He paused for a couple of seconds, thinking something over. "You know, if you ever think of joining the force, let me know and I'll be happy to put in a good word for you with Sheriff Lambert."

"Thanks, Don, but I don't think so. I've decided to move to New York City and see if Steve Zodiac, PI, can make it there. I want to see the famous sites, and find the romance and danger waiting in it beneath the Broadway lights," Zodiac replied, shaking his head.

"Well, you be careful in New York. They might lock you up for breaking and entering and assault and battery if you try any chicanery like you did with Foxcroft last night," Damon warned. "If you get caught..."

"Thanks, Don. I'll just have to make sure I don't get caught, eh?" They shook hands and parted. Damon sighed, and started filling out the paperwork for the case.

Epilogue 2 - Hope Hazard Heads to New York

Hope's new friends threw her a going-away party; everyone from the paper and the cast and crew of the play 'Pat Parker, War Nurse' were there as well. "Gee whiz, Hope, your going to New York is sure a surprise!" Janie said sadly. "We just got to know you, and it was nice, having a girlfriend who knows how to fight. All my other friends think I'm some kind of weirdo!"

She turned to the woman with Hope, a blonde woman in her early 40s. "I should be angry with you, Miss Moore..."

The blonde cut her off. "Please call me Sandra," she requested with a smile.

"OK, Sandra," Janie continued. "I should be angry with you for taking my friend away. But, the chance to be the understudy to the lead on a Broadway production is what Hope really wants. How exciting to be contacted by a famous agent like you!"

"We expect Kiss Me Kate to be one of the best received musicals next year," Sandra replied. "Even if Hope never has to fill in for the lead, Holly Harris, she'll be near the top of the line for future lead roles."

"So make sure you write and tell us about the neon lights on Broadway. I want to know if there really IS magic in the air!" Janie insisted to her friend. "Wish I could come with you, but Herb and I are going to settle down here. He thinks he might be first in his own line, to be the next Sheriff of Radiance when Sheriff Lambert retires."

She turned back to Sandra. "You don't seem to think it's weird that I know how to fight. Why not?"

"I was a Secret Service agent when I was your age," the blonde replied. "Got in a lot of fights myself. Got promoted fast, too. Until..." she paused and looked sad, then started again. "I was Assistant Director when the war ended. But I eventually realized that they weren't about to promote a woman to Director. So I resigned and became another sort of agent. And here I am."

Hope was swept away into the party by some of her other friends, but some time later, she found herself alone with Tom.

"I never got a chance to tell you, but you made a _great_ Batman!" Tom offered her some praise. "You fooled everyone."

"Everyone but you, of course," Hope joked. "Actually, I sort of used you as my model. Your build, your mannerisms, though I deepened the voice considerably."

Tom was flattered, but he had something else on his mind. "You wouldn't know anything about that Steve Zodiac character who busted Foxcroft, would you?" he asked suspiciously. "Damon said he looked enough like me to be my brother, even with dark, curly hair instead of blonde. Damon also said Zodiac was moving to New York."

"Never heard of him, Tom," she replied, crossing her fingers.

"Well, I hope he's successful in the Big Apple. And you, too, of course! I'm looking forward to hearing about you in the future." His smile faded. "But you had better be really careful, if most people found out what you can do, they might hate and fear you!"

Hope shuddered when he said that. She didn't consciously remember it, but that was exactly the way her species was received on Earth in the 30th century.

"Thanks for the warning, Tom. And thanks for accepting me, even after you found out my power."

He smiled. "Make sure nobody else finds out. Good luck. I'm sure you'll be famous in a couple of years."

She was swept into the party again, and then swept into the rest of her life.