LNH: Golden Visions TEB [EW/ACRA]

[Jeff McCoskey~]

Concluding 'Golden LNH-Men Week' here at Pseudo Random House, P-RH is
proud to present a special TEB, _Golden Visions_....

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Contents: Introduction_____________________Jeff J McCoskey
The Trial of Deluge______________Dave Van Domelen
The Fate of Familiar_____________Martin Phipps
Golden LNH-Men, Florida Edition__Jeff J McCoskey

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Introduction:

To quote myself (my favorite source), "It was the oddest part of an
odd phenomenon that I actually attracted men...who wanted to join the fight."
Well, not _attracted_ per se, though I like to think I'm rather easy on the
eyes ;]
No, this was even better. Two of the most respected (at least by me)
writers in the LNH decided there was enough source material, yet enough
untold story to write followons to Golden LNH-Men. This TEB reprints those
works, which I heartily reccommend to anyone who enjoyed GLNHM. They
represent some decidedly different voices in the GLNHM world, which is what
any world needs to be a success.
I'm honored they joined me.
The last vignette was a response to a posting last spring about a
comic book author who was censored in Florida for depicting Catholic
pedophilia or something (you can see how informed I am on the subject).
Someone posted outrage at the state and prompted this 'rewrite.' I put it
last so the good stuff wouldn't get skipped over ;]

Lastly, thanks again to all who supported this project. The strong
response I got denied the 'no place for serious LNH fiction' tenet. 'Course
that place is Elsewhirls....

Jeff J McCoskey
Editor-In-Chief, Pseudo-Random House

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The Trial of Deluge: A Golden LNHMen Special
Golden LNHMen created by Jeff McCoskey, used by permission
copyright 1994 by Dave Van Domelen for Pseudo-Random House
============================================================================

The antipsychotic drugs were starting to wear off, but for the first time
in a long time, I didn't mind. HE was gone, finally. All I had to cope with
was the torrent of my own inner voices...and compared to HIS tortures, they
were almost whispers. My thinking started to speed up and sharpen. I started
to get bored by the simple act of counting the dots in the ceiling. It was a
pleasant sensation to not come out of the haze into a tearing hell of psychic
torment. I might not need the drugs again...which is good. Especially since I
know *exactly* what side effects they have.
It had taken a long time to get the doctors to agree to administer
thorazine, and later the more powerful antipsychotics. After all, my illness
seemed to be simple Multiple Personality Disorder...a neurosis, not a
psychosis. And originally it was, perhaps. A neurosis is, essentially, a
method of coping with reality, while a psychosis is a total break with reality.
At least a break with consensual reality.
But I Digress, and lucidity is such a long-lacking sensation I'm loath to
break it by self-created ramblings. This internal monlogue isn't as much for
me as for you. Yes, you out there at the computer. How do I know about you?
I'll get to that. I still have some more to tell you before the other voices
drown me out.
The doctors finally determined that my condition was unlike anything
they'd ever seen, and probably *was* psychosis after all. So they gave me the
drugs. They didn't cure me, not even to the extent that they work on normal
psychotics (is there such a thing?). But they did numb me to the point that I
didn't care. Let HIM do whatever HE wanted, I was beyond feeling.
Ah, but who is HE? The matter of that lies in my own history. You've
probably already made some guesses as to who I am. If you guessed Dan Von
Modnitz, you were right. If you guessed Deluge, you were wrong. How can that
be? Aren't Dan and Deluge one and the same? Veronica thought so. Doctors
might try to say that we're separate personas, and not exactly the same. But
we're far more distinct than even that.
The best place to start would be the beginning, which is for me far more
straightforward than for poor Corpus.
It was 1955, and I was a recent recipient of a Doctorate in Physics, one
of the thousands who flocked to the sciences in the wake of the nuclear
"explosion" in Physics. I'd recently gained a non-tenure position at a major
university in the Midwest, it's not important which one...besides, they'll deny
ever knowing me. Dr. Hellfire's terror wave was still years away, and the Cold
War had been brewing for some time. My research was odd in that it actually
was not classified at all, but still had to do with radioisotopes. If only I'd
been a more careful scientist.
Oh, I was a renegade. Even without what happened next, I probably would
have been out on my ear within months and stuck teaching high school science in
North Dakota or something. It's amazing I got away with my unsafe practices
for so long.
Funny how fate can catch up to you before the tenure board does.
The newly-built addition to the Physics building was almost levelled.
Fortunately, I was working at nearly three in the morning, so no one else was
caught in the blast of...nonreality. That's the best way to desribe it.
Whatever it was, it wasn't from this reality. I'd opened a real life Pandora's
Box, and just like in that myth, it closed before anything but bad could
escape.
And who was there to take the full brunt? Me, of course.
<We always suffer, don't we Speck?>
Uh-oh, better hurry it up, the peanut gallery is opening. Anyway, I was
*so* fired. Not that I would have noticed at the time...I spent the next year
in the hospital in a coma. Well, not a coma per se...I thrashed about like a
landed fish, I'm told. No real muscle atrophy for me, no sir!
Exposure to the nonreality gave me power literally beyond human imagining.
It was certainly beyond mine, which is why I "shut down" for a year and was
never right in the head after that. I can only presume HE had a similar
experience...it's too painful considering him directly to be sure. But where
HE got what Cary later called "Omnipotence without Omniscience," I got the
reverse. Omniscience without Omnipotence. Knowing everything, all the
horrible contradictory truths of existence. Even someone built for metaphysics
like Cary would have buckled under that mental weight, never mind a down-to-
earth materialistic physicist.
HE was likened to the Writer. I'm the Reader, seeing everything and
unable to do anything about it. I suppose that's why I first became Sigmund.
More accurately, that's probably why Sigmund was the first shell persona
to develop. A personality that let me interact limpingly with the outside
world while inside I coped with my awesome knowledge. Sigmund was shaped by my
love of the Wagnerian tragic hero, which I now saw myself as: tragic. Doomed
by my own abilities. Incomplete and imbalanced, Sigmund was perfect for the
new superhero fad...hysterical strength, a rather black and white philosophy,
and no shame whatsoever. For a first try and building a person from scratch,
he was a pretty good job. Years passed while I hid in the shell of the
bombastic hero.
Finally, I thought I was ready to come out into the open, show my real
'face' as it were. I spent three days in a very good approximation of an
epileptic fit after that try. No, I couldn't yet. But deep down I felt
Sigmund to be too much of a caricature. Surely I could do better than that?
Thus was born Deluge, not referring to water as many thought, but to the
flood of information at my mental fingertips. Deluge was more carefully
designed, given a more caring personality, more depth. And also a glimpse into
my true mind, a glimpse that gave him amazing intuition.
Understand at this point that I, Dan, did none of this consciously. My
consciousness was still stunned. But I was growing, expanding my subconscious
to greater levels...the only real way to manage omniscience, really. And
subconsciously I created these shells.
I did perhaps too well in projecting myself into Deluge. He shared my
cockiness, my disdain for caution. And it cost me. Deluge might have been
able to guess any motive or event he cared to, but when facing the Ebony
Warlock, he never considered that the oh-so-subtle hypnotist might do something
as unsubtle as set off explosives in his mountainside bolthole, burying the
Mighty Vanguard under tons of rock. Only Miss Mace's quick actions saved my
body. Deluge went insane with grief...he truly loved Miss Mace, I think.
Odd, how one can have multiple personalities and have one of them go
insane? That was one of the clues that told the doctors that I wasn't a normal
MPD case, by the way.
Deluge retreated into a catatonia of self-recriminations, a stone prison
of his own making. My subconscious, in a fit of creativity, thrust forward a
dual persona next. Galaxian and Speck. They served for a short time, but soon
HE entered the picture. I must have known the kind of threat HE'd pose, and
developed my fourth shell to try and warn everyone. The Mysterious Stranger.
But by then, I was a Cassandra...an oracle no one would believe. Ironically,
the Mysterious Stranger actually had controlled access to my omniscience, and
could know a great deal. But after several rejections and disbeliefs, he
started being coy. Childish, even...taunting people with his knowledge but not
revealing it.
<For that would be abrogation of my Stranger's Oath!>
Then the Hack Writer of Reality started flexing his muscles, both real and
metaphysical. Oh, the pain it caused me! Seeing all of reality rearrange to
suit a peevish whim, a hormonal demand! He may have been a writer, but he had
little experience or dramatic flair. His work on reality was bad amateur
fiction. Although the Mysterious Stranger should have been the herald of my
return to sanity, the acceptance of my power and the ability to cope with it,
instead he was the doorman to utter madness. By the time HE finally denounced
his godhood, I was in a tailspin it would take years of uninterrupted peace to
recover from. I entered therapy and convinced the doctors to give me drugs to
let me not see the remaining blunt alterations of HIS. Now began the
kaleidoscope of shells, a Shell Game with my mind as the pea. How desperately
I wanted HIM dead, or at least removed! Even muddled and confused by HIS
continued presence in the proceedings, I did my best to help the plan for his
downfall. Even my shells could tell Kirby was the key, that he could remove
the Bumbling God from us and let us heal.
<But Deluge almost prevented that in his mad quest for vengeance. There
must be Justice.>
A new voice. Exposure to Corpus had started the process of creating
another persona, and this one was obsessed with justice. I can feel them all
pressing against the back of my eyes...the trial must be ready to start.

* *

A white plane, extending to infinity. An infinite object cannot really be
said to have a center, but this did. And I'm at it. A blank white copy of a
courtroom, looking something like the one seen in the opening credits of some
Perry Mason episodes. Sigmund had loved that show.
Sigmund stood as bailiff. Galaxian sat at the Prosecutor's desk, with a
shimmering female silhouette next to him. Speck might be invisible and
intangible to the outside world, but she was real in my mind. Deluge was at
the Defendant's desk, restrained by handcuffs and leg irons. I expected to see
the Mysterious Stranger in the judge's seat, but in his place was a shadowy
dark figure which must be the New Guy.
As if reading my mind (which was his as well, to an extent), the cloaked
enigma turned to me from his desk and said, "I act as the court reporter in
this inner drama, merely observing and recording. To do otherwise would be
betrayal of my oath as...a Stranger."
I looked down and saw I had no body. Of course not, I gave it up to all
of them long ago.
Sigmund drew a deep breath, from the gut, and proclaimed, "All rise! The
court of the mind is now in session, to consider the case against Deluge.
Deluge, you are charged with both the heinous crime of murder most foul, and
also with obstructing the removal of Dr. Familiar from Our presence. How do
you plead?"
Deluge, threw back his head and laughed. It was a most unpleasant laugh.
"Murder? SURE, I plead guilty. But you and I both know that by *not* stopping
Kirby, we're accomplices to far more murders. Let's cut the crap and get to
the real issue. You all think I almost kept Fillmore on Earth, right? Well, I
didn't."
Sigmund cleared his throat. "Your plea of Guilty to murder is noted.
What do you plead to the other charge?"
"Not guilty, and I can prove it."
Galaxian conferred for a moment with Speck while Mysterious Stranger
entered the pleas into the record. The judge spoke.
"Galaxian, present your case."
"Yes, your honor. The prosecution merely needs a moment to realign our
case, as we were expecting not guilty pleas on all charges."
"Granted." There was a pause while Galaxian continued to confer with
Speck. "Now present your case."
"Ahem. It is the prosecution's contention that Deluge's murder of Ebony
Warlock nearly prevented Corpus and the Logical Detective from discovering
Kirby's plot. And had they not discovered it, Familiar would not have done so
either, and only by bringing Familiar into the mix could Kirby set the blame
fully on him. Mere activation of the satellites and slaughter of 1.4356
Billion people would not have removed Familiar from Earth. Indeed, it would
perhaps have inspired him to wreak greater havoc on reality. This is a most
heinous crime indeed."
"I object!" shouted Deluge.
"Overruled. You will have your chance to contradict when the Prosecution
is finished. Continue, Galaxian."
"In truth, I am done. And might I add, I am delighted for once to see the
possibility of Deluge paying for his crimes, instead of the penalty falling on
my weary shoulders."
"Very well. Deluge, your case?"
"All right. This is a sham, start to finish. You all know Kirby's plan
required I kill the Warlock. Why else plant such a clunker of a line in the
Kirbotix show, pointing me straight at the Warlock when the time was right?
Why else send in a Japanese specialist to try and bring me to the surface in
time for the Ninja's funeral? You're just trying to shift all the guilt onto
me, because you think I'm morally inferior, because you know I can and will
kill for justice. Who else but a poor nutcase like Von Modnitz would be
incapable of killing the Warlock without help, thus pointing to an obvious
conspiracy?"
Galaxian stood up. "Your honor, Deluge is plainly guilty, and is merely
dissembling to stay his punishment!"
Before the shadowy judge could respond, Deluge shouted over Galaxian.
"There is a very simple way to verify what I say! Ask HIM!" Raising both arms
because of the manacles, Deluge pointed directly at...me.
All eyes, even the unseen ones of the judge, turned to my insubstantial
form. It was a very uncomfortable form of introspection. I paused a moment,
unsure of my standing in this drama. After all, I'd 'birthed' them and then
abandoned them to lead their own lives for so many decades, did my opinion
really matter here?
The judge spoke first. "The witness will answer the accusation that he
can verify the accused's innocence."
I cleared a nonexistent throat, then quietly said, "He's right. Kirby
aimed Deluge like a gun and pulled the trigger. It was all part of his plan."
My omniscience was nearly managable by now, I only see things when I want to.
And I could clearly see this.
Deluge easily snapped the manacles and leg-irons and grinned triumphantly.
"See? I'm clear!" He started to turn for the door.
"Not so fast, Deluge," came the grating voice from the judge's bench.
"You are guilty of the crime of murder nonetheless. Blame in the actions of
Kirby may or may not affix to any of us, but you are the only one of us to be a
murderer by direct commission."
Deluge spun angrily. "What are you going to do, kill me? Imprison me?
You *can't*! If any of you could keep me down forever, you would have. And
with Familiar gone, there's no punishment you could assign which would be as
painful. Don't make me laugh, Juris...yes, I know your chosen name, new kid."
Suddenly, I felt things click. In the mere weeks that had passed with HIM
gone, things had finally coalesced. Now I knew. I'm not just a reader, I'm a
writer too. But even with my omniscience, I don't presume to be God. I won't
rewrite *this* reality like HE did. But I can indulge in my creative wishes
nonetheless...and punish my wayward shell-self.
I raised my voice, to cut through the argument which had begun over the
authority of the "court."
"Deluge, you're flawed, but not deserving of death for it. Still, I don't
wish to have any part of you now. I'm leaving for the nonreality from which my
powers came. There I can learn how to use my power without the disastrous side
effects Familiar created. Juris, Galaxian and Speck, Mysterious Stranger,
Sigmund...you're all welcome to accompany me, I can even create bodies for each
of you in my new world. Deluge, farewell."
With that, I took my better-behaved selves and departed for the void.
Maybe I'd create a world without superheroes first, it certainly seems simpler.

* * * *

The building hadn't been this empty since the day it was opened. Of
course, as a public institution of limited funding, the Mental Hospital served
rats to patients desiring meat in their diets...which of course killed most of
them. A few people now resided in the anitseptic halls, mainly those who
couldn't cope with the deaths of so many, and snapped. The staff was minimal,
for many of them ate at work, and had died with the patients. Still, the
Kirbytech systems allowed even a skeleton staff to monitor all the patients the
hospital currently held.
A red light blinked on the console, and the orderly on duty swiveled in
his chair to look at the screen under it. A small LCD 'label' indicated the
room under observation held one Dan Von Modnitz.
The man in the room was grey haired, yet well-muscled. And right now he
seemed to be testing the strength of the walls...of the softness of the
padding. He was frantically beating against the walls and shouting at what
must have been the top of his lungs.
Fumbling with the sound controls, the orderly turned up the volume enough
to hear what Von Modnitz was screaming. And his soul was chilled by the sheer
anguish in the patient's voice.
"DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!"

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The Fate of Familiar: A Golden LNHMen Special
Golden LNHMen created by Jeff McCoskey, used with permission
copyright 1994 Martin Phipps for Pseudo-Random House
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What now? I must have asked myself that a dozen times already.
Obviously I have to somehow regain the trust of the people back home:
afterall, I don't want to go down in history as the man responsible for
the death of a third of the world. Me. To think, _I_ who would never
have harmed a fly. I could never afford such luxury: it would have been
so easy for me to just wish away those who got in my way. They should
have been grateful that one such as I had the power and not someone else.
No. I mustn't think like that... like a god. Besides, it's
healthy -- even necessary -- for them to have someone to blame, lest
they blame each other and proceed to finish another third of themselves
off. The past is past. I must think of the future: my future; here,
on Mars.
The first step is to heat up the soil and release its oxygen into
the air. At the same time, the polar ice caps will melt and fill river
beds that have been dry since before man had begun to walk the Earth.
Now, with a mere thought, appear in my hand the seeds that, with my
encouragement, will take to this soil and produce the plant life that
will serve as the underbrush for future forests. It is fortunate that
there exist here already the elements necessary to support such life!
The next step would be to plant crops in the fertile soil that I've
created. Perhaps I'll indulge myself and build a city or two. Then
all I'll need is people.
How long will that take? Years? Decades? I could never stand
being alone. The sooner I get started the better. Already I feel the
warmth of the ground under my feet, the air getting thicker -- in fact,
it feels a bit humid. No need to warm things up too much just yet.
There: the seeds fall freely through the freshly moistened soil. Just
call me Marvin Appleseed!
Kirby thought that he could play God and drastically reduce the
Earth's population to what he considered acceptable levels. He was
shortsighted indeed: mankind's population will grow to the level it
once was and then it'll be business as usual with the disadvantaged
suffering under the lot handed down to them by the wealthier in society,
the one's Kirby saw as somehow more fit to live. Nor will the deaths of
billions serve to bring mankind closer to the stars as Kirby thought.
I hardly think the space program will be a priority for the foreseeable
future. The idiot! Only when all of mankind is secure and well nutured
can we think of the ultimate destiny of mankind as a whole!
By the time mankind does venture forth from its home, it'll find a
second home waiting for it here... and it'll be one filled with lush
greenary. I've certainly got a long way to go! It's too bad I don't
know enough about botany to encourage those seeds to grow faster than
their normal pace.
No sense waiting though: I've got a whole planet to seed. I'd best
get to walking westwardly from here and see to it that the equator is
seeded first. By the time I've circumnavigated this planet, the seeds
I first planted here will have flourished and have sprouted seeds of
their own.
No sense thinking about how long that will take.

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WARNING: This is only a comic. Shouldn't you put this trash down and
hug your family?
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G
O
L
D
E { Cover is the LNH-Men cast chastising a penitent-looking
N youth who is skipping church. }

L
N
H
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M
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(special FLORIDA edition!)
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"I Love you, you Love me. We're a happy family." -- Barney

--====--- ---====--- ---====---
(1994, The Tea House Washington DC)

Lori sat at the table with her daughter, the Logical Detective, Dr.
Familiar, Jack MacMahon, Corpus, and Southern Knight. They were all sipping
tea. Lori spoke.
"I sure will miss Roy. He was a super guy."
"Hey now Lori, you weren't sweet on him were you?" asked Southern
Knight playfully.
"Oh you big lug, you're my super-hero," Lori said to her legally and
religiously consecrated husband. Everyone laughed.
"I just wish I knew how he died," said Corpus. "Dr. Familiar could
you...? Oh nevermind." Dr. Familiar laughed.
"Corpus you wise-mouthed scamp, you know I gave up my powers years ago.
A man having ultimate power? Why that's an abomination against God!" Everyone
laughed gaily, but not in a swishy way.
"Well how about you Logical Detective, my partner without a hint of
homosexual tension? As the world's leading theologian do you have any
theories?"
The Detective frowned. "You know, ever since the death of history's
greatest hero, the Missionary, I've had a theory..." The table leaned in
close, breathlessly. "The only one not here is Kirby," he paused significantly,
"and he's a foreigner to boot! It could only be him!"
They all agreed. "We've got to go to the Evil Empire of Japan right
away!" Veronica and Dr. Familiar stood up.
"We won't be going with you. We've resisted having sexual relations
for so long, but darn it we just love each other so much we can't wait anymore!
You're all invited to the wedding!"
"More tea!" exclaimed Lori joyously.
"Besides mom," said Veronica quietly,"someone'll have to take care of
Grandpa..."
Jack MacMahon laughed in his old-but-wise voice. "Oh deary, I don't
have Alzheimer's. I guess I can tell you now. Years ago your mother had
fallen in with a rock-and-roll crowd. I knew that would lead to alcohol and
premarital sex and we all know where that road leads..."
Everyone nodded wisely. They all said together, "serial pedophilia."
"As a loving father what else could I do? I faked the whole thing to
shock her back onto the straight and narrow! I bet you whipper-snappers think
I'm confined to a wheelchair too." Jack stood up. Everyone laughed piously.
"Now let's go give that furrinner what-for!" The Legionnaire's stood up, left
a generous tip, and rushed out.

---====--- ---====--- ---====---
(1994, New Testament Japan)

The Legionnaires angrily confronted Kirby in his home.
"You mad fiend! Your plan to bombard the planet with gangsta rap and
NC-17 cable video is finished."
Kirby held up his hands. "You have me all wrong! That was my original
plan, but I read some of the Detective's theological texts and changed my mind.
Technology is of the Earth and hence Satan's tool. I was just about to
renounce it all and become a monk. But first, I retooled the satellites to
flood the earth with 700 Club broadcasts and Welfare Reform infomercials."
The Legionnaires cheered. Kirby pressed the button. A small electrical
short zapped Corpus and he fell to the floor.
Lori covered her mouth. "Is he...?
Corpus sprung right up. Southern Knight was happy but suspicious.
"That regeneration thing smacks a little of occult devil worship..."
Corpus' face was suffused in light. "No friend Knight. Just faith in
the one true Lord..." The all laughed and hugged, but in a non-sexual way.

<<fin>>
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