League of Superheroes: Passing Time 5

I was more than a little annoyed at Charlie's attitude: finding a way to use the time-field controller as a weapon was a good thing and even a little clever. But perhaps I should've mentioned that it could be non-lethal. "I'll just knock them out."

He looked both satisfied and inquisitive, so I continued, "The trick is that if part of the body is sped up, it doesn't get any fresh blood and goes to sleep. So what if you isolate the head? The brain doesn't get any oxygen or blood, and the guy conks out in just a few seconds of accelerated time."

"I don't know. I don't like the idea of isolating the brain like that; you could upset various rhythms. But there is a very simple way to deal with the problem. Just give me the controller and run for your bike. I'll take care of the rest."

I started to ask whether he had a divine revelation on the topic, but I didn't want to hear the answer. I handed him the controller and started running. The rest were right with me--Allen took the lead almost immediately.

Of course I looked back. The thugs were gesturing as though they had guns, and they were kind of slow to realize they didn't. Then they started after us, and I remembered something really important about Charlie.

He was a really practical guy, especially when it came to medicine or anything related. He probably knew about as much as an EMT back then, and a lot of people were surprised at his hobbies: his mom, a nurse, got him into needlepoint, macramé, and such. But it made sense, because the needlepoint was good for a surgeon's fine control, and any doctor ought to know how to tie a good knot.

Yes, the goons' shoes were joined at the laces, and they dropped like a pack of plastered penguins.

"The shoelace is mightier than the wedgie?" I asked Charlie. He just grinned and nodded. We reached our bikes and got aboard while the gang that couldn't think straight wrestled with Charlie's handiwork.

We had barely set out when Allen, who was still in the lead, motioned us into some shadows. The ruckus had attracted some cops, and although the goons finally had the sense to take off their shoes, the cops' guns were handier.

"Why do I think your guns and friends are parole violations?" one of the cops asked.

A familiar voice answered, "I don't know, unless you're an awful good guesser."

Another familiar voice said, "Manny, remember our little talk about indoor and outdoor voices?"

"But we're outdoors!"

The sound of a minor scuffle followed, and we decided to head for home. As I told Dad later, friends are good for passing time, but sometimes you have to know which one to pass it to.

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League of Superheroes: Passing Time 4

Unfortunately, using compressed time causes a light fluctuation. No faster than I could go without Allen's Tachyon suit, it wasn't that noticeable, but it must've acted like a subliminal neon sign: "Abuse me! I'm a time-shifting practical joker!" In any case, they decided to take out their frustrations on a not-so-innocent bystander, and I prepared to defend myself. Even with time control, that could get tricky. Although I could punch them all over in a fraction of a second, the punches would be my usual pathetic ones. I figured I could dodge really well, though, especially since they put their guns away in favor of their fists. So I turned the controller on and sidestepped what was probably a lightning-fast jab. It was a great time for wisecracks, but whatever I said would emerge from the time field almost simultaneously as a jumble, so I kept my mouth shut.

It took me a while--maybe a couple seconds of regular time--to realize that Allen wanted to join the game. I jacked up my time as high as possible and said hello. "Not bad for an amateur, huh?"

"Not bad for a brainless monkey. In real life, I don't think you can wear a guy out by dodging his punches."

"I'm trying to avoid actual violence."

"I'll be sure to tell Charlie. You need to scare them off or at least discourage them a lot. If that fails, we could take their guns."

"We're trying to duck publicity, remember? What would we do with the guns?"

"Let Rod have 'em. With his Titan suit, he could make them into Art."

"And probably destroy some evidence. I doubt this is their first job."

"You'd rather have me fetch a cop? That's publicity too--especially if you're all dead when we get here. Just let me show you how it's done."

I rechecked the situation: The goons' fists had barely moved. I crouched below them, and the world went back into high gear.

The thugs gasped and almost stumbled over me, and the other two had a similar experience: synchronized wedgies. Allen was back in position, looking almost innocent. Rod roared with laughter. Then he just roared and reached behind him. The next thing I knew, the world had stopped again, and Allen was handing the controller back, a sheepish grin on his face. Oh, sure, so it'll look like my fault.

I was racking my brains for a way to one-up a mass wedgie when the opposition one-upped the whole business by drawing guns. That's when I had a really clever idea and nearly got us in even more trouble. I was just activating the unit when I noticed that Charlie was starting for me--a risky move under the circumstances. I granted him an audience--I was getting used to it, and I was wanting to brag a bit anyway.

"Tom, we need to go beyond wedgies," he said.

"Absolutely correct. And I just figured out how to use this toy as a weapon."

"That sounds drastic."

It is, of course. Tune in tomorrow for the conclusion!

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League of Superheroes: Passing Time 3

There was another problem, though: since our gear (presumably including the time-field controller) would self-destruct if someone unauthorized got nosy, the thugs might regret ripping us off. I don't know how big the blast would've been.

Unfortunately, Allen was still holding the controller, and the head goon noticed it. He wasn't real observant otherwise. "Hey, is that a computer or a player?"

Dolt. If it had been either one, it would've had a screen. With a bit more imagination, he might've thought it was an old-fashioned satellite radio.

"Let me see..."

His voice trailed off, and the light dimmed for some reason. I could barely see that Allen's right hand was empty.

My right shirt pocket, on the other hand, was full, and I suddenly realized that everyone else had stopped, though I caught the movement as Allen's left hand returned to his side and he lapsed into normal time. That's when the light dawned: he had gone to compressed time and extended the field so he could resume his earlier position unnoticed. Otherwise he would've still been drawing his hand away when he left the field and reverted to normal. Once I entered the time field, I had slightly less light to work with because it was moving through the field faster than it was entering. I pulled the controller out of my pocket, held it behind me, and turned it off.

"So you're a magician or somethin', huh?" the goon finally said. "Well, I can make things disappear too." He reached for Allen, and I re-activated the controller.

Now, if what follows seems juvenile, it was; but it was also desperate. Even with the controller I didn't have much time to think of a plan. Rod was obviously weighing his chances, and Charlie was praying quietly. Why couldn't one of them have been standing next to Allen?

But as everyone else ground to a halt, a recent threat came to mind, and I decided to do to them what Allen hadn't done to Rod. I reached over and yanked up on the head guy's undies. It was the world's fastest wedgie.

Then I noticed that the second in command was usefully close. "Idle hands are the Devil's tools," Grandma used to say, and his were unemployed. So I placed them in a convenient spot and resumed my original pose and speed.

The boss gasped. Then he spun around, catching his associate in an awkward position. "What's the matter with you? You been hangin' with Manny?"

The other man protested that someone had moved his hands, but he didn't seem to believe it himself. I couldn't blame him: when I repositioned them, they were limp, because they entered my time field and his brain was no longer telling them what to do. Their report on events--every sensation--got stopped at the edge of the field. So did their blood flow. It only lasted a second or two, local time, but it must've been confusing to get all that backlogged info in a split second, especially when he also found himself holding the bag, so to speak.

More tomorrow!

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League of Superheroes: Passing Time 2

The worst part of Rod's schemes was the lecture that went with them. I was already in a bad mood because it was a little too quiet after school. Although Allen had run off most of the media shortly after the kidnapping, there were still a few paparazzi lurking around. As Darklight, I could've checked, but I was stuck as mere Tom Reilly, which gave my suspicions nowhere to go. It didn't help that Rod had us bike to a vacant lot near school. The area didn't get a lot of traffic, and I hoped to avoid a drug bust from curious cops. I thought our old headquarters would've been better, but we were still avoiding it then.

"Your problem," Rod began, "is that you keep forgetting that time only changes in a small area. When you sped up your chores Saturday, the sweeping went pretty well—"

"The dust kept flying out of the time field, so I had to chase it," Allen complained. "It took longer personally, but only a second in normal time."

"But you were in your suit and could go faster," Rod said. "And you still messed up the mopping."

"The mopping went okay; it was the drying that didn't work out."

"Because you thought really extending the time field would make the floor dry faster. But it didn't, because the field locked out the dry air currents and heat that would've done the job. That's why I've come up with some experiments to help you figure out how to use that toy right."

It was a good idea, though better to watch than to read. Delete that: there was the bit about running at a wall and trying to climb up. That was good. Allen had tried running up a wall before, and it only worked when he wore his suit. But crawling up caused the controller to interpret his momentum as gravity--probably a feature, not a bug: Genie couldn't be fooled that easily--and he could crawl for several seconds up a wall before he lost gravity--enough to reach a second-story window with practice.

Maybe it was his impact against the semi-condemned building on the east of the lot that shook the vermin loose, or maybe it was the darkness that crept up on us as we endured Rod's lectures, but just then some thugs rearranged our agenda. They looked like they might do the same for our faces. There were just four of them, but they looked tough, and we looked like the Geek Quartet.

"Well, look what we have here," one of the goons said. "Some kids with no one to take care of them."

"We'll have to take care of them, then," another said.

"I dunno," a third mumbled. "They look like they're doin' okay. Besides, I thought we was gonna find somebody to rob."

"'Scuse me," the second goon muttered. He began beating up his associate. Since "Manny" was the only thing he said afterward that was neither vulgar nor profane, I suppose it was the idiot's name.

It was a splendid time to leave. Delete that: we thought it was. The leader of the group disagreed, and so did his gun. "Not unless you're faster than a speeding bullet, kids."

With his time-field controller, Allen probably was. With his suit, he definitely was. But then, with his suit, he was bulletproof, too. He could get away easily, but could he get a cop back there in time to save the rest of us? Apparently he didn't like the odds.

More tomorrow!

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