Episode 73

... from the Files of Hydrogen Guy

Note! Read Chapter 31 of The Grayhound Chronicles first.

A "Crossing Over" Recap with Ms. Kimmie Parks
Registered President, Official The Grayhound Fan Club

So like I get this call today saying "Hi, is this Kimmie Parks?" And I'm like "Yes?" thinking it's like some perv or someone trying to sell me on having my carpets cleaned or something but then the voice says, "Are you the one that does the chapter summaries for The Grayhound Chronicles?" and I'm like "Yeah," like anyone else does them, and then the voice says "We need your help." and I'm thinking, like COOL I'm going to be doing secret government work and maybe getting to wear really cool clothes like that chick in Matrix except I don't want to have my hair a slicked down like that because it looks like she hasn't washed it in like forever which would be really gross and like impossible for her to sneak up on anyone because they'd be like do you smell something, oh my god, there's like some chick in shiny pants who has really stinky hair shooting at us!

But that's not what they wanted at all.

Instead it turns out that they wanted me to write the summaries for like both sides of this whole crossover thing. Which is cool I guess but I told them that I'm not sure I can speak Canadian, and they said it's ok, they will translate which I suppose means putting "u"s in all the words and calling him Zedrng or something.

Ok, so like, here goes. Like in Chapter 31 Chris and JB (they're like the guys from the cool story I write for) were battling an evil pastry when they run into these two science geeks named Jim Evans and David Marcolin (who is like, totally hot by the way, but not as hot as Chris or Robert) who pour coffee on the pastry thing to kill it but then it turns out that JB recognized Jim for being like this total brain guy and got excited before Chris dragged him out and then we find out about this guy named Mark who I think is like at my school who's even more a geek and fixes computers by feeling them up which was a bit oogy but then these guys named Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy stop by Chris and JB's and yell Happy Kwanza which I think is some Canadian holiday or something andJB gets even more excited because Hydrogen Guy is like his all time biggest hero which Chris could care less about because he like just totatlly avoids the living room where the other three are listening to Hydrogen Guy rambling about his exploits and then we find out that Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy are like the Jim and David guys from eariler and they talk about what a total grump Chris is (which I like kind of agree about) but then we switch back to that Mark kid who messes around with the stoplights before he goes home.

Part II - "Boise on the Side"

At nine o'clock on the morning after their return from Boise, Idaho, David Marcolin walked into the coffee room of the Maple Ridge Institute of High Energy Physics. It was a sign of his distracted frame of mind that he wasn't floored by the fact that his frequent collaborator Jim Evans was already there. Evans, for his part, was absorbed in a pile of pre-prints he'd collected at the conference, and barely raised his eyes from the page as he greeted his partner.

Evans
Ahoy, face. Group meeting at one-thirty. Bring your Boise slides. Oh, and I put an article from Newfoundland Journal of Marine Nuclear Chemistry on your desk. I thought you might like it.

Marcolin grunted with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. He collected a cup of coffee and sat down at the table across from Evans. Evans looked up from his paper, noticing his partner's drawn expression for the first time.

Evans
Great Feynman's G., Dave! You look rough. Feeling okay?

Marcolin
No. I feel horrible. I had a terrible sleep last night, and this morning I have a cold. I must have caught it on the plane. I can't smell a damn thing.

Evans
Probably for the best, Wicks made the coffee this morning. Stuffed up?

Marcolin
No, I just can't smell anything.

Realisation dawned.

Evans
Oh, you mean smell smell. Well, no big deal. I've got enough super-atomic sense of smell for both of us. I guess if we need to distinguish isotopes, we're just out of luck... Or we'll do it the old fashioned way, with the Pocket Mass Spectrometer. Just enjoy life as a normal human being for a while, I guess...

Marcolin
That's not the worst of it, though. I could hardly sleep last night because of the disturbing dreams I was having.

Evans
Really. You're the last person I'd expect to say that.

He looked at his partner with growing concern. David had a unique relationship with the world of dreams. Ever since shortly after the accident that gave them their powers, Deuterium Boy had been able to travel through the hidden land of dreams as easily as the waking world. Apparently there existed an entire realm, created and sustained by the collective psychic potential of humanity and some higher animals, that was accessible to normal man only during REM sleep. Hydrogen Guy had never been able to access it himself, other than in the fitful subconscious way that most people do. Apprently he was hopeless as a serious dreamer. Hydrogen Guy suspected that his partner had learned this mastery of dreams from Doug, but Deuterium Boy was always unusually reticent about discussing it.

Deuterium Boy's alter-ego continued his complaint.

Marcolin
I kept dreaming about this crowd of people. They were blocking me from entering the dreamlands, and they kept shouting at me. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I got the impression thre was something that they wanted to know. They wouldn't let me pass until I answered them, but I couldn't answer them because I didn't know what they were saying. It was like that all night...

Evans
Sounds strange. Maybe it's just the cold... you ever have something like that when you were sick before?

Marcolin
Well, usually I don't sleep as well when I'm sick, and that makes it harder to dream-travel. But never like this before. And aside from not being able to smell anything, I don't feel like I'm sick...

Evans
It's probably just some weird bug... you've been working pretty hard lately, too, in the lab and the Cave. Not to mention playing kayak polo on the weekends. Maybe you should take it easy for a while. Talk to Doug about it, though, it might be significant.

Marcolin
Yeah, you're right... God, that's one of the things I hate about flying. You're cooped up in a plane with a hundred strangers, breathing recirculated air. It's a wonder we don't all die of the plague.

Evans
Easy there, pilgrim. Why don't you try and catch a few zeds before the group meeting. Here...

He pulled a thick wad of paper out of the pile beside him. The single article was half as thick as the whole pile.

Evans
Pirbright's review article on solid state acausal field theory. The section on quasicrystalline limit cycles alone is enough to knock you into blissful slumber for hours.

Marcolin
Great. I feel sleepy already...

Evans
If you're still feeling like crap tonight, I'll give Yolanda a call and you can turn in early.

Marcolin
[sighs] Thanks, Jim. I should be okay. I stopped at the Cave and brought some of Carl's "pick-me-up" tea. I'll be fine for tonight.

Evans nodded.

Evans
Good. We need you in top shape.

Marcolin
It's nice to be appreciated.

Evans nodded again, sipped his tea, and took the next paper off the pile.

Evans
Besides, I have twenty bucks on your kayak polo team for this weekend's tournament. And I don't intend to lose it.

When Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy returned to the Hydrogen Cave sixteen hours later, Hydrogen Guy was feeling far less benevolent towards his partner. An observer in the Cave could have heard Hydrogen Guy's voice before the elevator even opened.

Hydrogen Guy
I'm not being unsympathetic, but all I'm saying is, if you're not going to block the plasma blast, don't make me think you are!

He waved his arms emphatically as they walked into the Cave's living area. He headed straight for his kettle and teapot, not even pausing as he pulled off his hat and mask and tossed them on the couch.

Deuterium Boy threw himself wearily on the love-seat, stripping off his own mask.

Deuterium Boy
Will you just let it go? How many times do I have to apologise? I'm sorry, already! I tried, but the deuterium shield just didn't happen!

Hydrogen Guy
I'll add "can't get it up" to your list of ailments. I'll start you on a course of Elemental Viagra tomorrow.

Deuterium Boy responded with a pithy and obscene imperative. Hydrogen Guy, however, had been distracted by a yellow sticky note on the cabinet door.

Hydrogen Guy
Hey, did you have somebody in the Cave today?

Deuterium Boy
No, why?

Hydrogen Guy plucked the note off the door and held it up.

Hydrogen Guy
There's a note here in somebody else's handwriting. It says "Who are you?"

Deuterium Boy
What?

Hydrogen Guy passed it to him across the counter. Deuterium Boy looked at it with a puzzled expression on his face.

Deuterium Boy
I have no idea what this is.

Hydrogen Guy
You saw me set the security system when we left, right?

Deuterium Boy
Of course! And you turned it off upstairs when we came in, too, remember? You think we have an intruder?

Hydrogen Guy
Impossible. Nobody could crack that security system, and if anyone had been in here, we'd know it. Why would they leave us such a stupid note, anyway?

He took the slip of paper back from Deuterium Boy and peered at it intently.

Hydrogen Guy
A man's handwriting. Right-handed, maybe in his early to middle thirties. Very precise, small tight letters. Only suggestion of a flourish is on the question mark. I'd guess a very professional, business-like individual, and someone who expects this question to be answered... Sound like anyone you know? ... DB? DB, you okay?

Deuterium Boy was staring glassily into the middle distance, as if listening to a faint, far-away conversation. Hydrogen Guy placed a hand on his shoulder, and Deuterium Boy started. For a split second he looked at Hydrogen Guy as if he'd never seen him before, then whatever it was passed, and his usual expression returned.

Deuterium Boy
Yeah... yeah, I'm fine, sorry, HG, I just kind of zoned out for a second.

Hydrogen Guy withdrew his hand but continued to look at Deuterium Boy with concern.

Hydrogen Guy
That's it, no more midnight crime-fighting for you. You take the day off tomorrow.

Deuterium Boy
I told you I'm fine.

Hydrogen Guy
No you're not. You looked catatonic for a second. Go home, get some sleep, and don't come into the lab tomorrow, either. I'm serious, you're starting to worry me.

Deuterium Boy
Oh, all right... What were you saying about the note?

Hydrogen Guy
Oh, nothing, just a little handwriting analysis. I'll talk to Doug about this. Maybe it's him, and he's going off on another one of his weirdo oracle jags again. Either that or we have a ghost...

He trailed off as a thought occurred to him. He glanced at Deuterium Boy. He was looking perfectly normal, if a bit tired. Hydrogen Guy filed his thought in the back of his mind and carried on as normal.

Hydrogen Guy
Anyway, like I said, go on home. Try to sleep. Take some NyQuil or something.

Deuterium Boy
Sure... sorry again about the shield thing...

Hydrogen Guy shrugged.

Hydrogen Guy
It's okay. I'm sorry for ragging on you about it so much. Your energy's probably just down, is all... Hey, your staple-gunning and Deuterium-O-Rang throwing was just stellar tonight, though. That lasso thing - when'd you work that up?

Deuterium Boy
Uh... oh, you know, just something I'd been... working on. It's nothing, really. Okay, I'll take off. G'night.

Hydrogen Guy
'Night, DB.

He picked up his mask and headed off towards the garage. Hydrogen Guy watched him go, with an unsettled, thoughtful expression. He looked back at the post-it note for a few more seconds, then slipped it into his pocket.

Meanwhile, in Boise, Idaho...

"C'mon guys, this isn't funny anymore. What did I do wrong?"

Not too long ago, this would have been something JB would have appreciated. For whatever reason he was now getting the silent treatment from the Justice Furlong.

"Okay, I apologise. I'm sorry that I've been ignoring you, but seriously, you guys are almost always going at it. I needed a bit of 'me' time. Not that I don't appreciate all that you've helped me with, even if the waitress at Louie's aged a bit since the last time Myron came through town. We're all adults here, right? Guys??"

A far-from-blessed silence was all he heard in reply.

It was even worse when Chris finished his shower and opened the door.

"There, do I still stink?"

"No, not as bad, but a bit."

"Kripes! I've taken three showers this morning. I don't think I have any skin left."

"Well, maybe Zrng used too much garlic last night or something."

Chris stormed by mumbling to himself, "Perfect, some hidden defender of the shadows if any two bit hood can smell me coming."

"I didn't say you stank, Chris, I just..." the final part of the preceding statement wound it's way into JB's mind, "HEY!". Unfortunately, JB was unable to come up with an appropriate response. Might as well face it, he'd gone rusty. For the last year or so, that had been Becky's fun.

JB slumped down a bit more and pressed a button on the remote, then panicked a bit. In his previous life (before becoming his brother's sidekick) JB was a computer geek. There is one smell that sends the cold shiver of panic through every one of them, and that's the smell of ozone. The smell that says "Hi, you now need to spend money replacing something, you idiot."

JB sniffed again, but the scent was fading fast. He raced over to the laptop and began sniffing. Oddly, there were a large number of smells, more than he remembered, but ozone wasn't overpowering them. Strangely he didn't feel concerned. He then began sniffing everything else electronic to see if he could find out what had just blown.

Nothing.

"Chris?" JB asked.

"Yeah?"

"You running a hairdryer or something?"

"No. We don't own one."

"What about an iron?"

"Nope. Why you smell something else now?" Chris asked with more than a bit of taunting annoyance in his voice.

"No, um, I guess not."

JB sat back down carefully and tried to recreate what had happened. Chris had walked by and then he hit the power button on the...

...the Remote!

JB sniffed hard at the power button. There was no mistaking the scent of ozone that was coming from it. But the remote ran off of two AAA batteries, hardly enough to make that kind of smell, and he was positive he would have had to hear some loud crackle of electricity.

He turned up the volume on the TV.

"... have not been able to determine why vandals have somehow altered all of the televisions of this popular retailer to show only Yiddish Soap Operas. Police are asking for your help to get any information as to who..."

No, his hearing was okay.

"Jeez, JB! Could you turn down the TV?"

"Um, sorry. I think there's something wrong with this remote..."

"Probably, considering that Zrng has pretty much bonded with the thing."

"Maybe we should get another one."

"Why should we get one? If Zrng messed with it he should buy it." Chris pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number. A faint chirping could be heard coming from the kitchen. It wasn't from Zrng.

Chris grew more annoyed, "Oh, fer cryin'... You get the guy a phone so that we can all keep tabs on each other and he keeps forgetting the damn thing. Advanced species, my ass. Well, if he ate all the Buzzy Bits as well, he's going to Costco to get a fresh supply. That'll teach him."

Chris started foraging through the kitchen looking for his breakfast of choice.

JB caught another strong scent. "Hey Chris, you may want to recheck that cabinet." It was the scent of greasy oats, chocolate, caffeine and... caffeine? How did JB know what caffeine smelled like? Yet there was no doubting that was exactly what it was.

"Bingo! Thanks, Brah! Last box too, that greedy green..."

JB wasn't paying attention. His mind was racing. He could smell chemical compositions. Instantly his fan-boy neurons leapt at the remote chance. He sat trying to think of another test. There, beside his laptop was his mug of water. It was a glass half-litre mug that was about half full.

JB stared at the mug, or more precisely, the contents of the mug. He focused his thoughts, envisioning what should happen, and then suddenly, it did. There, sitting in the middle of the glass, was a bubble. It hung frozen half way between the bottom and the top, exactly where JB wanted it to.

"chrrrriiiiIIIIIISSSSS!!!!!"

"What?" Chris yelled back between mouthfuls.

"Look, I... ", JB pointed at the glass where the bubble had been.

"Hey, it's your turn to do the dishes." Chris said and shovelled another spoonful of cereal.

"No, I made a bubble in the glass, right there. Here I'll show you."

"You made a bubble?" Chris said not quite as impressed.

"Yeah, I just focused on making one and.."

"JB, have you been getting enough sleep?"

"What? Of course I have, look, I think I might be an elemental"

"I'm not so sure about the 'ele' part of that."

"I'm serious, Chris!"

"JB, c'mon, neither of us have any real powers to speak of. You just lucked out because of some bad fashion sense and a closet full of bad karma." Chris spoke up as if to a crowd of folks behind JB. "Not that I don't appreciate you guys." He dropped back to normal, "but seriously, were just a couple of average guys with less than average jobs. There's no need for you to keep looking for superpowers you don't have. Give it a break or you're going to get yourself delusional and seriously hurt."

Chris plopped himself down on the couch and flipped on the remote. JB could still smell the ozone. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to sit here and eat my breakfast, and then if you like, we'll head out to get a new remote. I think I see what you mean. Zrng's damn near rubbed the numbers off of this one."

"Okay, great." JB said, less than enthused. Well, he couldn't get Chris to help. There was one place that he could turn to get a bit of guidance. "I'll just be over here going through some e-mail."

Chris simply nodded as he chewed.

JB went to his bookmark list and loaded a link that was near the top his "Groups" category. He clicked on "Post a new message" and then entered in the subject line: "How do you know if you've become an Elemental?"

The next day, David took Hydrogen Guy's advice and called in sick. It had been another bad night - the same dreams about a crowd of spectres, shouting incomprehensibly at him and stopping him from entering the dream lands. He spent the day playing video games, eating chicken soup, and worrying about what his girlfriend Avalia - who was a waitress in one of the dream lands' more exclusive (not to mention eldritch) clubs - must be thinking. After dinner he went to the Cave and played some more games there. By the time Hydrogen Guy came in to get ready for his nightly patrol, David felt he was going out of his mind with boredom. At first Hydrogen Guy refused to let him go out with him, but finally he relented.

Hydrogen Guy found three more notes in various spots in the Cave similar to the first, only in different handwritings, none of them familiar. These he slipped into a compartment on his Useful Things belt without mentioning anything to Deuterium Boy.

They came back earlier than usual. Deuterium Boy protested, but his partner insisted. His cold, Hydrogen Guy said, was still affecting his powers. This made him a liability. Deuterium Boy pointed out his atomic speed still seemed to work (if sporadically), and he could throw Deuterium-O-Rangs better than ever, but his arguments fell on deaf ears.

In fact, Hydrogen Guy had noticed this - and considerably more, which he suspected Deuterium Boy was only half-conscious of himself.

They parted with the argument still unresolved. Deuterium Boy declared he was going in to work tomorrow, and Jim couldn't stop him. Hydrogen Guy said fine, but he'd go on patrol tomorrow over his dead body. Better mine, he emphasised, than his.

The next day, Jim Evans woke up at the ungodly hour of eight AM. He put on his Hydrogen Guy outfit, grabbed his usual brown suit to change into later, and headed for the League of Heroes.

One of the secrets to success in anything, Hydrogen Guy found, was knowing the right people to ask when a problem seemed too deep for one man to tackle. In his physics career, he had a long list of friends and collaborators in various fields with whom he often consulted to help shed light on thorny scientific problems. In his superhero career, he had a shorter but far more specialised list of those he called upon. Doug, of course, was his chief prognosticator and spiritual advisor. Chuck War was there whenever the problem involved extraterrestrials, mechanics, or things that went boom. Various informants, contacts and fellow heroes gave him needed tips on everything from obscure court rulings to the latest in underworld gastronomy.

But when sheer volume of experience was needed, he turned to the Codger. And this, he felt, was an experience issue.

The Codger had been a superhero and hidden defender of the shadows longer than practically anyone else in the business had been alive. At the hail-and-hearty age of 87, he was no longer on active duty, strictly speaking, but he still kept his hand in, providing logistics and worldly wisdom to the kids doing the job today. Including his grandson, who despite his reputation as both a world renowned theoretical physicist and one of the country's most successful superheroes, he still thought of as the moppet who tried to put pants on the dog.

Hydrogen Guy found him playing checkers with the computer, an EOB 8850. The Codger was playing black; the computer was white, and its "checkers" were indicated by spots of light on the board.

Codger
'Morning, pup. Aren't you supposed to be going to your real job about now?

Hydrogen Guy
Just thought I'd stop in for a word. How's the game going?

Codger
I've beaten it once already, and it's starting to forget its manners.

He jumped two of the computer's "checkers". The lights went out on the board, and a sound reminiscent of a raspberry came from the computer's speakers.

Codger
Somebody needs to teach you how to be a gentleman.

He hit the pause button on the board and gave his full attention to Hydrogen Guy.

Codger
Seems like you have something on your mind.

Hydrogen Guy
I do. I'm worried about Deuterium Boy.

Codger
What's the matter with him? Other than that he's a fat-head, of course.

Hydrogen Guy
I'm starting to think he's possessed.

The Codger raised his bushy white eyebrows. Even for him, this was a new one.

Codger
Possessed? You mean as in possessed by Evil Spirits?

Hydrogen Guy
Well... I'm not sure if they're evil, yet... I'm not really sure. It's just he's been acting strange ever since we came back from Boise --

Codger
How was the trip, by the way?

Hydrogen Guy
Fine, thanks. I brought you a Spudchucker's cap, like you asked. The conference was above average, but the locals are a bit odd. But I was saying, DB's been acting strange, and I've been finding weird notes around the Cave.

Codger
Hm. Well, like the man says, tell me everything, omitting no detail however slight.

Hydrogen Guy began by telling him about Deuterium Boy's strange dreams, lack of sleep and his mysterious "cold".

Hydrogen Guy
... and that's just the beginning. The last couple of days, his other Elemental powers have stopped working, not just his atomic senses. When he tried to put a deuterium shield a couple nights ago, he failed, and last night he nearly fell off a building when he tried to float. His atomic speed works sporadically, but when it does - and this is very odd - it's accompanied by bursts of super-strength.

Codger
That's not one of your powers, is it?

Hydrogen Guy
Not that I'm aware of. Also, his Deuterium-O-Rang throwing has become simply incredible. And twice he's done this lariat trick with a cable that's like something out of a rodeo.

Codger
Hm. Funny. He didn't get another snoot-full of bad Indian food, did he?

Hydrogen Guy
I don't think so. That's not all, either. He's been doing other weird things, out of character.

Codger
Go on.

Hydrogen Guy
Last night I came out of the Usual Coffee Shop to find him sitting on a planter, talking to a pack of cats. And they seemed to be talking back to him.

Codger
He's always liked cats, hasn't he? Got two of the little buggers himself, if I remember...

Hydrogen Guy
Yesterday afternoon, when he was alone in the Cave, he rearranged the Cave's investment portfolio.

Codger
I didn't know you had one.

Hydrogen Guy
Neither did I. I found out about it when I listened to the voice-mail from our broker... And the other thing is, last night he showed me up in front of Peterson by solving a crime.

Codger
What do you mean, "showed you up"?

Hydrogen Guy
Last night the West Haney ING was apparently a victim of a cyborg attack. Peterson thought it was Battle Cyborg Bob's MO, and I didn't see anything to make me disagree. While I was engaged in the usual give-and-take with Peterson, though, DB scoped out a few footprints and some scratches of paint on a nearby car and deduced that the culprit wasn't the Vanguard of Carnage, but a local gang using titanium boots and a remote controlled mannequin. He explained his reasoning afterwards, and of course it all made sense, but I still can't see how he knew to look for those things...

Codger
Was he right?

Hydrogen Guy
Yeah. Peterson picked up the guy DB fingered and got a full confession.

Codger
Hah! You're jealous.

Hydrogen Guy blushed.

Hydrogen Guy
Don't be ridiculous... I'm worried. The weirdest thing is, after he does these things, he acts like he doesn't remember! When I ask him about them, he mumbles a bit and changes the subject, but I can tell he doesn't know what I'm talking about. After the ING last night, I dragged him back to the Cave and took him off active duty.

Codger
Hm. You're right, that is strange. What about these notes you found?

Hydrogen Guy pulled out four scraps of paper from his Useful Things belt and handed them across.

Hydrogen Guy
Here they are. I found the first one the night after we got back from Boise. The security system had been on the whole night, and no one entered the Cave except me and DB. But he'd been in the Cave alone earlier that day to pick up some tea. And I found this by the tea cupboard... The other three I found after he'd been alone in the Cave for the afternoon. One was by the PC, one in that bathroom, and one stuck to the fridge. I didn't tell him I found these ones.

Codger
You think he wrote them? They're not in his writing...

Hydrogen Guy
No, each note's in a different hand. I count two well-educated men in their thirties, a young woman from a poor rural background, and a left-handed young man. They all ask the same question.

Codger
"Who are you?"

Hydrogen Guy
What else am I supposed to think? It sounds weird, but taken together, the signs seem to indicate that Deuterium Boy has picked up at least four passengers. Or maybe he's just cracking up, I don't know. I'm in a muddle, to put it mildly. How do I handle this? What do you do when your partner's not who you think he is anymore?

Codger
Four superheroes who are replacing his powers with their own...

He was staring intently at one of the notes. It was the one Hydrogen Guy had found next to Deuterium Boy's computer, written on a scrap of note-paper.

Hydrogen Guy
What is it?

Codger
I'm beginning to wonder if I'm cracking up myself. I know this handwriting.

Hydrogen Guy
You WHAT?

Codger
Wait here...

He got up from the table with surprising speed for a man his age and left the room. About five minutes later he returned with a dusty photo album. He set it down on the table next to Hydrogen Guy and sat down. He flipped it open, raising a small cloud of dust. Hydrogen Guy tried to fight back a sneeze.

Codger
This is the one... glad I gave all this stuff to the League instead of donating it to the government like your Grandmother wanted... here we are!

He tapped the album meaningfully. It was opened to a page near the middle. On one side of the page were a pair of ancient black and white group photos featuring costumed heroes from the 1940's. A yellowing cardboard booklet was attached to the other side. A few simple lines of typewritten text on the cover indicated what it was.

Codger
This is all from the General Assembly of '41, the one about the Kobiyashi Rai. Last time one was ever held in San Francisco. It was such a big deal they even called folks back from the Front for it. This is the program...

He pulled the booklet out and flipped it over. With a triumphant "A ha!" he pointed to the faded ink on the back.

The crabbed handwriting was identical to the one on the note.

Codger
When we got back from lunch, I realised I'd left mine back in the automat. A pal of mine gave me his - said he'd already committed it to memory. He'd made those notes on the back during the morning briefing...

Hydrogen Guy
Who is this?

Codger
He called himself the Dark Detective. What was his name... Myron something... Doesn't really matter. He was a deductive genius, pretty good guy, too. At that time he was based in Seattle, which was a big deal for the city in those days. Worked all over the American Northwest, so we saw him up here a lot more than most Yankee heroes.

He pulled out one of the photos from the other page. It showed a group of about ten heroes, posing in front of the San Francisco Courthouse. Hydrogen Guy recognised the Blue Prowler - the Codger's Golden Age identity - on the left hand side of the group. The Codger pointed to a figure dressed in sombre colours, slightly behind and to the right. He had a stylish fedora and a cape that looked like it would flow nicely.

Codger
That's him. He was a pretty vocal opponent of the ban. He and Karl must have spent half their time arguing about it...

Hydrogen Guy
Karl?

The Codger pointed to another figure a few spots away from the Detective, wearing a wide-shouldered pinstriped suit and cape.

Codger
Captain Industry here. Lord love a duck... Vancouver was a strong union town then, and this guy'd been mixed up in quashing some labour riots back in New York, so you can imagine our guys had no great love for him... He and the Detective were part of an outfit called the Justice Furlong, along with Lady Peacemaker and Faunaman. Heh, surprised I still remember the names... Here, those two between them.

He pointed to a timid-looking younger man in a bright-coloured costume and a pretty woman in a patriotic cowboy outfit.

Codger
When the States got involved in the War, all four of them got classified 4F. I always got the impression that stuck in Myron's craw. The Justice Furlong moved to Sunnyvale, not far from San Francisco, to keep an eye on things. I always thought it was partly because Myron didn't want to let the city go - he had no superpowers but still had to keep the ban, and Karl wanted to make sure Myron kept it. The whole group disappeared about a year after these were taken, no one ever really figured out what happened. End of story.

Hydrogen Guy was staring at the photo, his jaw hanging open in an unintelligent expression of shock. But his mind was none the less whirling.

Two well-educated men in their thirties, a young woman from a poor rural background, and a left-handed young man. Four superheroes replacing Deuterium Boy's powers with their own. A hero named Karl.

Puppyboy, back in Boise, addressing an unseen person named Karl.

Hydrogen Guy jumped to his feet with the fervour of a man who'd just figured out he'd been had.

Hydrogen Guy
Thanks, Gramps. I think I understand what's going on here.

Codger
You going to tell me what it is, or do I have to wait for the incident report?

Hydrogen Guy was halfway to the door. He called back over his shoulder.

Hydrogen Guy
Don't know how, don't know why, and just a hunch as to who, but I think DB's been possessed by the Justice Furlong!

He shouted the last words from out in the front hall, and they were punctuated by the League's front door clattering shut.

The Codger shrugged his shoulders and went back to his checkers.

Codger
Kids these days...

When Jim Evans strode into his office, David Marcolin was surfing the web. He wore an amused smile.

Marcolin
Hey, check out this message on the diatomic.com message boards.

David frequently lurked, and sometimes posted (under his civilian name), on the Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy fan site's message board. Mostly, Hydrogen Guy suspected, to counter what he claimed was a hydrogen-centric fan base.

Marcolin
"How do you know if you've become an Elemental?" I think somebody's been reading those comics too much. I wonder if it's the same JB we met in Boise...

Evans felt a chill down his back. He swung around to David's side of the desk and scanned the message on the screen.

Evans
Damn. I hate being right.

Marcolin
Right? About what?

Evans
Come on, we're going back to Boise.

David nearly fell out of his chair.

Marcolin
What?!

Evans
NOW.

JB walked slowly into the dimly-lit room. He looked around in trepidation. He was in some kind of tikki lounge. A bar padded in red vinyl and lined with bamboo occupied one wall kitty-corner to the door. Tables clustered around the rest of the floor, all empty. Torches hanging on the wall did little to illuminate the booths around the edge of the room. Something told him this was a good thing - undefinable shapes seemed to occupy those booths, shapes that a rising terror told him he did not want to meet. The terror grew in proportion to the strange, thumping rhythm that came up through the floor from the club downstairs.

JB had no idea where he was or how he'd got here.

Suddenly a voice behind him shouted "HEY!" JB whirled around, expecting to see a clawed monstrosity swooping down on him, ready to tear out his entrails like crepe paper. Instead he saw a tall, dark-haired, unbelievably beautiful woman wearing white robes stalking towards him. Aside from these, she was looked like a waitress, with a black pocket apron with a pad and pencil in the pocket. She had a grim expression on her face.

She stopped less than two feet away and glared down at him.

"Who the hell are you? Where's Dave?"

JB stared at her, stunned.

"Well? Answers. Now."

He gulped nervously. Finally he was able to find words.

"What.. who... is Dave?"

The waitress's glare intensified.

"Don't give me that! You're only the third mortal in here in the last five hundred years, and he was the last. And you're a superhero. If that's a coincidence, then I'm a Gug's aunt."

JB looked down. He was still wearing the costume.

"Now," said the waitress, "you have exactly ten seconds to start telling me who you are and where David's been the last three nights,... or I'll show you to one of the booths."

JB immediately started to gibber incoherently. Avalia rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay, okay. Shush!" JB fell silent. He continued to look at her with a look of pure panic on his face. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

He shook his head. Her expression softened.

"Do you have any idea where you are?"

He shook his head.

"Do you have any idea who Deuterium Boy is?"

He started to shake his head, then stopped. "Y-y-y-yes!"

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Take a breath... okay, good boy. You want a drink? No? Probably a good idea, anyway. Now, listen carefully. This is Club Kodor. It's not a safe place. Got that? Not safe."

JB nodded emphatically.

"You're not supposed to be here. Deuterium Boy is. He's my boyfriend. My name's Avalia."

"I-I-I'm J-J-JB."

"Hi, JB. JB, do you have any clue how you could be here and not Deuterium Boy? This is a very difficult place to find, even for experienced dreamers. Like I said, only three people have come here in the last five hundred years."

JB stared at her, not fully comprehending.

Suddenly, he heard a buzzing sound. It was comfortingly familiar... he felt the sound tugging insistently at him...

"I-Is that the d-doorbell?" He looked around, curious. He didn't see an outside door...

"Shit!" she exclaimed, "He's waking up! JB, you have to remember this! Contact Deuterium Boy, tell him something is wrong! Understand? Deuterium Boy, something wr--"

Her voice faded away, and the buzz of the doorbell became the only sound he heard. He opened his eyes. He was lying in his own bed.

He sat up groggily. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was nearly noon. Damn, he thought, half the day gone... another deep sleep filled with weird dreams...

The door buzzed again. And kept buzzing, like somebody was pressing the button as hard as he or she could, and keeping it pressed.

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Chris was already halfway to the door. "This is getting to be an annoying trend," the Grayhound muttered.

He opened the door. Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy were standing on the doorstep, and this time they weren't bearing a fruit basket. They looked every bit as tired and disgruntled as Chris felt.

"A really annoying trend," said Chris.

Hydrogen Guy looked from Chris to JB, standing a few paces behind his brother.

"We need to talk," he said.

Holy Body Switches, Hydrogen Guy!!

Have the 4F Foursome signed a new lease in the Isotopic Amigo's skull? Has Number One Pup become an Elemental? Is Hydrogen Guy right in his belief that there's been dirty work at the crossroads? Will Kirk Cameron be making an appearance?

Find out one week from today, only at

The Grayhound Chronicles!