Lost Genre Guild 3: Deep Enough; Let's try to Get Back Out

In our previous thrilling episode, Murray the Alchemist, from the Light at the Edge of Darkness story "At the Mountains of Lunacy," and Allen Peters, or Tachyon, from League of Superheroes, were examining the homepage of the Lost Genre Guild when they discovered evidence of hacking by the Chicken Booksellers Association. Allen decided to investigate...

Allen/Tachyon: These Chicken Booksellers are a desperate bunch. Watch out for fowl play.

Murray the Alchemist: Are you sure that wasn't my line? It sounds like--

Mysterious Figure: Don't move! My robots have my Chickenizer aimed at you!

Rod/Titan: We're not chicken! Who are you?

Mysterious Figure: Oh, no--you first. Which one is Bond? No one? Huh. Superman? Scarlet Pimpernel? Mary Poppins?

Rod/Titan: We're the League of Superheroes--yes, plus Murray, thanks for reminding me. I'm Titan, that's Tachyon--

Mysterious Figure: I am called "Guildfinger."

Rod/Titan: "Guildfinger"?

Guildfinger: Yes. I finger guilds our Association doesn't like: point-point-pointy-point! I even poke them a bit. Right now I'm targeting the Lost Genre Guild.

Rod/Titan: That doesn't sound too serious.

Guildfinger: It isn't. Such groups are a lost cause anyway. We at the Chicken Booksellers succeed precisely because people don't really want change: they yell about it, but they vote in the guys who've been messing things up for a couple years already. Sequels are always a safe bet. People won't buy real change: they're too chicken to read Christian spec-fic, and we're too chicken to print it, unless the author's well established.

Rod/Titan: Then why not leave the LGG alone?

Guildfinger: It's the lack of principle of the thing. The sky could fall on our heads from an unexpected quarter or even dime. So we're out to undermine the LGG.

Murray: Even I wouldn't stoop to mining someone's unders! You should be ashamed!

Guildfinger: No, you can be ashamed! Try our Chickenizer, League of Superchickens!

[Sound Effect: At least the second-loudest buckaw you ever heard]

Rod/Titan: We're chickens? Okay, that's just stupid. I knew having Murray along would drag us into his kind of story.

Allen/Tachyon: Very funny, Guildfinger. Do you expect us to squawk?

Guildfinger: No, Tachyon, I expect you to fry!

Murray: That explains the robots with the chef's hats and "Kiss the Cook" aprons.

Allen/Tachyon: But I'm still Tachyon!

[Sound Effect: Several reversed buckaws nearly superimposed on each other, together with the normal one]

Guildfinger: Squawk!

Allen/Tachyon: Now the feather's on the other wing, Guildfinger! It doesn't take much compressed time to reverse your ray's effect on us and give you a dose of your own medicine.

Murray: Funny--he doesn't look like a chicken so much as... Well, isn't someone else going to say it? Fine! I'm not afraid of any bomb, even in dialog: "I guess if a chicken sticks his neck out too much, he cooks his own goose!" There, I said it.

Mysterious Figure #2 (Okay, really this is the first one from yesterday, so Guildfinger was #2, and this is #1, and... Oh, figure it out for yourself!): Not so fast!

Murray: Okay, but it's not the kind of line you want to linger over.

Rod/Titan: So who are you? You're stroking a cat--are you Frank Creed, star of book signings and LGG offshoots?

Allen/Tachyon: No, Frank looks more like Scott Morris. Come to think of it, have you ever seen them together?

Murray: This guy looks like Donald Pleasance on a bad face day.

Mysterious Figure (etc.): Really? What about Telly Savalas? Now, then, which of you is Bond?

Murray: Again with the Bond bit?

Mysterious Figure: All right, then, how about Bagginses, my Precious?

Rod/Titan: Nope.

Mysterious Figure: Astroboy? Professor Hyde-Whyte? Mary Pickford? Gumby?

Rod/Titan: Check a mirror on that last one. We're the League of Superheroes. You would've known that if you'd been paying attention.

Mysterious Figure: Hah! Well, I am Ernie Scarecrow Blogfeld, terror of bloggers everywhere. We are disrupting your pathetic blog tour, and you can't stop us!

Rod/Titan: We don't have to. This is the last day of the tour, and I think this is the only blog you "disrupted."

Blogfeld: There are others?

Rod/Titan: Duh! Look at the list below. Can you guys even read?

Blogfeld: Curses! Look, over there! It's Elvis!

Rod/Titan: Get a life!

Blogfeld: It's Frank Morris and Scott Creed fighting over a cat!

Rod/Titan: Research isn't your strong point, is it?

Blogfeld: It's the pizza delivery guy!

Rod/Titan, et al.: What? Where?

[Sound effect: High-speed clucking fading into distance]

Rod/Titan: Drat! He got away!

Murray: Well, someone needs to give the people today's moral in a poetic, witty way, so it figures I'll have to do it. Friends, don't let the Chicken Booksellers win! Get involved in Christian spec-fic today! Or did they already zap you with the Chickenizer? That's no way to live! Get out a good book, like my Guide to Homemade Explosives, available at a bombed-out bookstore near you, and-- Hey! Knock it off, Titan, or I'll--

Well, wasn't that riveting? Remember to support Christian spec-fic and give the chickens one in the giblets. And in the meantime, check out these other fine blogs, probably free of Blogfeld interruptions...
Brandon Barr
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Kathy Brasby
Grace Bridges
Valerie Comer
Courtney
Frank Creed
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Janey DeMeo
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Andrea Graham
Todd Michael Greene
Katie Hart
Timothy Hicks
Joleen Howell
Jason Isbell
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Kait
Carol Keen
Lost Genre Guild
Mike Lynch
Magma
Margaret
Rachel Marks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Nissa
John W. Otte
Crista Richey
Mirtika
Hanna Sandvig
James Somers
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Phyllis Wheeler
Timothy Wise

Lost Genre Guild 2: Going Deeper

Yesterday we began our blog tour of the Lost Genre Guild with Murray the Alchemist, from the Light at the Edge of Darkness story "At the Mountains of Lunacy," and Rod Davies, or Titan, from League of Superheroes, examining the founding concept of the LGG. Today we'll add the other superheroes to the mix, especially Allen/Tachyon, who will hack his way into the mysteries of the LGG Website.

Allen/Tachyon: You heard the man. Let's have a look at their homepage. Hmm. A bit flat for speculative fiction. I was expecting some garish illustrations at least, but no dragons, spaceships--

Murray the Alchemist: No alchemists.

Allen/Tachyon: Way to find the upside, Murray. Now let's look at the other pages. Hey, they've even got a link to the home page on the home page! I guess Frank's into self-referential humor. "The Guild Review" is a group of short reviews of Christian spec-fic. "Bookshelves" showcases Frank's attempts at recycling cardboard boxes--okay, no, it's a list of books and stuff by LGG members. "Media Room" sounds scary, but they don't actually have any reporters in there. It's just PR for some Christian spec-fic titles. "Resources" is pretty much a links list for other LGG sites and similar groups. "Catalogue" is exactly that: a promotional listing of LGG-related projects. "CONTACT" is pretty much what you'd think, too, unless you're thinking about starting an old plane. Whatever spins your prop. And "ABOUT" tells you what it's all about, even if you aren't Alfie.

Murray: Okay, so are we done?

Allen/Tachyon: Anyone could get all that! No, I'm going to hack into the horrifying underbelly of the Guild itself!

Rod/Titan: Sounds gross--and there could be kids reading this.

Allen/Tachyon: Yes! As I suspected, there's a missing link the casual visitor wouldn't spot!

Rod/Titan: Wow! Is that what's inside Frank's head, or is Steve just showing off his inability to use a paint program again?

Allen/Tachyon: Actually, it's somebody else's work. But I think it shows there's more to LGG than you might think...

Meanwhile and elsewhere, a mysterious figure sits in the gloom, stroking a cat.

Mysterious Figure: Drat. Those meddling kids may be on to us! I shall have to contact Number Two and tell him to try harder.

Meanwhile again, back at the blog...

Allen/Tachyon: Well, let's see what other hidden links I can find... Wait! A worm from the Chicken Booksellers' Association! Let's follow it!

Oh, my! Whatever will happen next? Tune in tomorrow to find out whether the Chicken Booksellers' Association is litigious. Meanwhile, have a relaxing dose of comparative sanity with these other CSFF bloggers::
Brandon Barr
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Kathy Brasby
Grace Bridges
Valerie Comer
Courtney
Frank Creed
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Janey DeMeo
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Andrea Graham
Todd Michael Greene
Katie Hart
Timothy Hicks
Joleen Howell
Jason Isbell
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Kait
Carol Keen
Lost Genre Guild
Mike Lynch
Magma
Margaret
Rachel Marks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Nissa
John W. Otte
Crista Richey
Mirtika
Hanna Sandvig
James Somers
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Phyllis Wheeler
Timothy Wise

Lost Genre Guild 1: Get Lost!

To begin our blog tour of the Lost Genre Guild, I thought I'd turn things over to a couple characters who have appeared in "lost genre" type works and are familiar with Frank Creed, who founded LGG. So today's guest hosts are Murray the Alchemist, from the Light at the Edge of Darkness story "At the Mountains of Lunacy," and Rod Davies, or Titan, from League of Superheroes.

Murray the Alchemist: So I guess we have to talk about how Frank founded the Lost Genre Guild. Or found it. Maybe he should find a book on grammar instead.

Rod/Titan: Different words, Murray. Cue the language geek...

Tom Reilly/Darklight: Romance and Germanic roots, yes. You see, "found" is related to "foundation," which--

Rod: ...is more than anyone wanted to know. Thanks for calling. Anyway, Murray, shouldn't you give the link for LGG?

Murray: No, because we've already seen it, so who cares, and why should I tell someone how to find a group that wants to be lost? Besides, if it's Christian fiction, why's it the "Lost" Genre Guild? Shouldn't it be the "Saved" Genre Guild? It makes no sense!

Rod: I think it means "undiscovered" or something--thank you, no language geek interruptions this time!

Murray: Anyway, Frank Creed began the Lost Genre Guild when a sudden inspiration hit him. You can still see the bump if you look hard...

Rod: Wrong bump; that was another inspiration, and I thought we were steering clear of that one.

Murray: What are friends for? Or enemies, whatever. Anyway, Frank looks around and doesn't see much Christian speculative fiction coming out, and suddenly it hits him like ears to the head: people can ignore several individual Christian spec-fic writers, but gather them all in one place, and people can ignore them all at once! Frank's into efficiency.

Rod: I think it's more like getting a bunch of Whos to yell "We are here!" together so they don't get boiled.

Murray: And here I thought it was the other kid who was into Literature! Take it from me: getting everyone together in one place just makes it easier to blow you all to the Moon! Ka-Boom!

Rod: What I wonder about is the statement on the main page: "CHRISTIAN BOOKSTORE SHELVES ARE NEARLY BARREN OF SPEC-FIC." Okay, your bookstore may vary, but CSFF has had lots of Christian spec-fic over the last year. If they aren't on the bookshelves, they're available through online bookstores. Why the drama? I'd like to call in an even greater mind to figure this out.

Murray: Something smarter than you? But my athlete's foot can't go on! It hasn't shaved!

Rod: No, I mean Genie.

Genie: Marketing matters are not within my usual bailiwick, Rod.

Rod: But as a matter of simple logic, what's the deal, here?

Genie: A swift perusal of prior CSFF and CFRB posts indicates that most Christian spec-fic authors are either self-published, published by a small press, or already well-known in some other field. Thus, if Donita K. Paul hadn't started out with romances, she probably wouldn't have been able to publish her Dragonkeeper books. And last month we saw that John Olson had to team up with an established writer to get published. So it's accurate to say that the status quo hinders new writers. The Lost Genre Guild helps new writers get noticed and read, even though it isn't a publisher itself.

Okay, problem solved. Join us tomorrow for a look inside the Lost Genre Guild. I bet we'll encounter a strange man stroking a cat and muttering to himself...

In the meantime, see what the rest of the CSFF has to say on this vital topic:
Brandon Barr
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Kathy Brasby
Grace Bridges
Valerie Comer
Courtney
Frank Creed
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Janey DeMeo
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Andrea Graham
Todd Michael Greene
Katie Hart
Timothy Hicks
Joleen Howell
Jason Isbell
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Kait
Carol Keen
Lost Genre Guild
Mike Lynch
Magma
Margaret
Rachel Marks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Nissa
John W. Otte
Crista Richey
Mirtika
Hanna Sandvig
James Somers
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Phyllis Wheeler
Timothy Wise

League of Superheroes: CFRB Tour Wrap-up

Ansric: We made it through a week-long blog tour. Any closing thoughts?

Rod/Titan: I'm kinda surprised how many people took KidChat seriously about Genie's age. She isn't seven. All you have to do is look at what's said about the protests at Gibbroek's to get a general idea how old she'd really be.

Allen/Tachyon: Which is the kind of thing only Rod would bother doing.

Rod: Because I'm the only one here with brains.

Ansric: The topic does come up more in Genie at Large, along with a few other details about the events of League of Superheroes. One thing that has surprised me is that some people—not on this tour, so much—don't seem to realize that Genie was actually alive. Perhaps that's because of Gibbroek's remarks: he wouldn't have thought her alive anyway.

Charlie/Micromegas: I don't think people realize how life and death are viewed by a lot of doctors. For example, one of the major reasons that death keeps being more and more broadly defined is simply that you generally can't use organs from a corpse, even a fresh one. So they just say that someone is as good as dead and keep him alive until they've harvested the organs. So from Gibbroek's perspective, Genie was as good as dead, and he harvested some parts. Her heart may not have been beating at that point, but her brain was okay.

Tom/Darklight: Doctors are pretty scary these days.

Charlie: Not all of them. But it's hard to dedicate yourself to life and healing when you reject the Author of Life.

Ansric: Another point is that people seem to assume that you're all the same age. There isn't a major spread, but you're not exactly quadruplets, either. Charlie is the oldest, then Allen, then Tom, then Rod. And Charlie's almost a year older than Rod. If it hadn't been for the home-schooling scheme, you wouldn't have grown up together.

Tom: And now you're getting into stuff that we didn't really understand ourselves until later. I keep telling you that it's important to keep things in sequence. I mean, at this point--during LoS—I knew that the Davies family had been in the area the longest, followed by the Peterses and Taylors, and we showed up just as things were getting interesting. But the details—that Mr. Taylor led Mr. and Mrs. Davies to the Lord and helped get them together to begin with, that Mrs. Peters went to the wall and even beyond it to save Rod's life, that Dad was stung by some academic bait-and-switch that positioned him to intervene at another dark time in Rod's life and bring our families together--we didn't know any of that until our climactic encounter with Nathan Scott in Genie Reborn. I wish they'd told us, but I understand why they didn't. Sometimes kids talk when they shouldn't, and it was a precarious balance. But I didn't go into that in LoS. I tried to avoid anything I didn't know at the time.

Ansric: Clarice, any comments?

Clarice/Goodcheer: I think I like the next story better.

Ansric: Because it's when the others start taking you seriously?

Clarice: Sort of. But Genie's more like Genie, too.

Ansric: And in Genie at Large we also see the early signs of the horror that finally emerges in Unity Six.

Clarice: I didn't like what happened in Unity Six. There should have been another way.

Ansric: But it enabled you to guide Tom and Charlie in Anchor Point.

Tom: So we did something stupid--

Ansric: That made everything turn out right. I quote:

I have thought long and hard about that ever since—especially once I found out what we actually did. I still think that I would’ve done it, even knowing what would come of it. We were Genie’s friends, and she needed us. If helping her opened Pandora’s box a little wider, well, so be it.—Anchor Point

I've said that the tagline for the origin series would be the lot of you screaming "Genie!" in unison. But your desperate attempts to save her aren't the true focus even of the origin series. Hope is the focus of the series as a whole, along with God, of course. But Clarice is far more important than anyone originally imagined. Last call for comments.

Rod: It's a pretty good story, even though Tom didn't explain the physics as much as he should've. I mean, invisibility isn't that hard: You just bend the light through hyperspace--

Allen: And hit the temporal pause button on the mouth before we all fall asleep. I thought the balance was pretty good on exposition. The hacking was oversimplified, of course.

Tom: Pause yourself this time.

Charlie: There's less emphasis on prayer in this story than in the later ones. But it's a good start.

Ansric: I think we'll leave it there. I'm overdue on some reviews and general posting, but we'll revisit the League later.

Purchase League of Superheroes at Writer's Cafe Press, Barnes and Noble or Amazon.

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.

Purchase League of Superheroes at Writer's Cafe Press, Barnes and Noble or Amazon.

Check out these other member blogs this week for more info.

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!

Purchase League of Superheroes at Writer's Cafe Press, Barnes and Noble or Amazon.

Check out these other member blogs this week for more info.

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!

Purchase League of Superheroes at Writer's Cafe Press, Barnes and Noble or Amazon.

Check out these other member blogs this week for more info.