Heroes' Reunion

Dylan Cook of The Four Heroes was back. That same dark hair and same warm smile greeted the first well-wishers in an opulent observation-lounge attached to Prof’s sanatorium, Phoenix standing proud by the side of her love. One genius Grindo’s medical ministrations had restored to Dylan even the use of his legs, where Earth-technology would have been unable to do so, such that he walked strongly and without so much as a limp as he moved through the waiting-room shaking hands and embracing again and again. There was laughter, and many tears. To the ever-modest Prof Dylan did his best to express thanks for which mere speech could barely suffice, while James, Carmilla and Flashtease bestowed on their old friend the most joyous of welcomes home in return. Even Flashshadow, who had never met Dylan, murmurously faltered out something unintelligible but no doubt in keeping with the spirit of this happy time.

The door swished open. There, with Iskira behind him, stood Joe. All merry tumult in the observation lounge fell silent at once.

On his recent encounters with Dylan, and no less so this one, Joe had found himself reverting to the boy who waited outside his house for him on the day of Nottingham’s creation. As they looked at each other now, our hero was more mindful than ever before of how long ago that was, and that what had since come between himself and Dylan was not the dispute of boys but of men. He did not require any of the various prophecies which stated that that was the way it was destined to be. Joe saw well enough in this very room, and at this very hour, that the process foretold in those grim texts was already begun.

“Dylan,” said he. “I am glad to see you well.”

“Likewise, Joe,” Dylan replied, and it was clear from his voice he shared all Joe’s longing for things to return to how they once were, and all his sorrow that this could not be.

“And I am aware,” Joe continued, “that you bear no blame for the circumstances of your own recovery – ”

“So,” Phoenix finished for him, “if you would be good enough to return to your coma at ze earliest convenience, zat Joe might feel validated, we will say no more of zis incident.”

“Phoenix…” Dylan ventured.

“De rien, cheri,” she declared in a clear voice. “’E is not listening to me. Ze last time I tried to talk to ’im, ’e did not listen zen.”

Joe knew this was more than a scolding for lack of etiquette. Phoenix was reminding him that if she was to be accused of neglecting her duty to The Four Heroes’ cause in the name of matters of the heart, she was scarcely alone in ever having been guilty of such a lapse. Indeed, when their present roles were neatly reversed, Joe’s self-indulgence had ultimately played at least some part in Dylan’s having suffered his incapacitating injury in the first place.

“Guys,” attempted Carmilla, “there’s no need for this. Everyone involved in this thing goes back years. Why can’t we just – ”

One of the other doors opened. There stood 4-H-N, crying.

“It’s…Phoenix Prime,” she sobbed out upon the stunned company. “She’s…gone…!”

The others ushered her over at once to sit down on one of the couches, whereat they gathered round and listened in gravest concern as tearful 4-H-N tried to tell her story. Soon however, all the clone could do was repeat ever more inconsolably that she had not meant for her advice to produce such a reaction in Phoenix Prime, and as none of her family’s comforting words seemed to convince 4-H-N herself of the truth to her own protestation, Carmilla presently had no recourse but to hold her sister close to her and gently shush her into silent weeping.

Dylan, his brow deeply furrowed with helplessness and distress, began: “If this had anything to do with me, anything to do with what she did, then…then I’ll find her, somehow, show her it’s OK, that these things happen. We can make this right…!”

But James and Iskira were in each other’s arms. Only over this short time on Planet Grindotron had their longest-lost daughter Phoenix Prime occupied the place which should have been hers since birth, rather than the lifetime of loneliness these parents unwittingly foisted on her instead. They had only just begun to know her, only just begun to realize their dearly-held dreams of making amends. Now they had lost her again. As for Phoenix, she was white in the face as she sank to the seat behind her. They had come so far. She had taken it on as her personal quest to transform Phoenix Prime’s anger to beliefs she might live by and in so doing find peace. How could it be that at a single stroke, all her good work might be unmade?

“Did you imagine your deed would be without repercussions, Phoenix?” Joe could not help asking.

“Go ahead and gloat, Joe,” she retorted coldly. “But I draw ze line at lectures from you on ze consequences of one moment’s weakness.”

“Why are ye even still here, laddie?” thundered James. “D’ye no’ ken when tae leave a family alane tae their grief?”

“That which concerns The Four Heroes’ cause concerns me, Sir!” Joe returned. He threw out a hand in the direction of the two Mini-Flashes, who by now were standing meek and mute. “This galaxy’s young have some vital role to play in the coming conflict. For this reason I have elected to educate them, in readiness for that day. Yet even as we speak, Alliance-sponsored trans-galactic broadcasts celebrate our cause as you misrepresented it, Phoenix, when you intervened in a war that was not ours and derived personal gain at the cost of another’s freedom! The Mini-Flashes are Alliance citizens. You cannot be permitted to undermine my work with them thus. Too much depends on it.”

Dylan let out his breath long and slow.

“Phoenix has mentioned already that my climbing back into a life-support tank isn’t an option,” said he. “So Joe, why don’t you tell us what exactly it is you’re expecting us to do?”

“First, issue a public retraction,” Joe commenced. “The damage done by this quadrant’s influential media may hopefully be remedied by it too. Then, as you enjoy a certain leverage with the Alliance which I evidently do not, you must petition them for Scientooth’s release…”

Even before he was halfway through the sentence, it was clear his listeners had no intention of doing as he instructed. Dylan declared unsmiling:

“Joe, you may be the one and only person I know who could stand here, on this planet, and defend Scientooth in front of the Grindo who saved my life. Prof showed you the movie, right?”

Once again Joe could not restrain himself. “Yes, it was Grindotron cinema at its finest,” he flung back. “I doubt Scientooth’s side of the story will ever be told on such a high budget.”

“Praise our production-values by all means,” Prof put in with extreme calmness, “but tread very carefully when you question the veracity of what my people suffered.”

“Joe didn’t mean it like that, Professor,” said Dylan. “Look, everybody knows history’s written by the winners. There are things you have to do in war that’d be unacceptable if there was peace, like there is between Toothfire and the Grindoes now. That’s why we sign treaties, with terms both factions agree on. So there’s accountability, resolution, new laws. It’s a system that works.”

4-H-N, drying her eyes in Carmilla’s caress, said nothing. She could not but feel that if it was so easy to own one’s warlike acts in peacetime, Phoenix Prime might still be here.

“But Scientooth?” continued Dylan. “He was a renegade, a war-criminal at large. His kind are dangerous. We don’t even know whether he was biding his time in Nebula Seven, or actively plotting new aggression from there – he came right out and admitted to the girls he had spies on Grindotron. Part of what The Four Heroes did, Joe, was tracking down villains like him. We helped Admiral Kasei round up Dr. Vytrex and the other Banthal loyalists when they were making trouble on Mars. The Tykosian government asked us to hold the Mecha Squad in a Nottingham jail because they didn’t have maximum-security facilities themselves. I don’t see that this is any different.”

“Tykosis entrusted their prisoners to us because they knew we were humane,” Joe reminded everyone pointedly.

“Toothfire justice isn’t the same as ours,” was Dylan’s reply. “But Scientooth is Toothfire, and it’s what he signed up for. We’ve handed him over to the authorities. You used that phrase often enough back in Nottingham, Joe. Seems a little late in the day to start questioning what it means.”

Phoenix made the next contribution. She began to laugh. Scornfully, scathingly, and devoid of the scantiest trace of humour.

“’E does not care about justice!” she exclaimed to Dylan and the whole assembly. “All zat concerns ’im is ze presence of a rival! ’E fears zat an equally valid and Alliance-endorsed interpretation of ze cause will draw supportairs away from ’is…’is…rock-star entourage! Ze one long love affair of ’is life, it is not Neetra, nor Nottingham, nor ze Four ’Eroes – it is ’is own egomania!”

Joe, prior to this day and in circumstances easily as arduous, had once heard a very similar accusation from someone more important to him than Phoenix. Perhaps that was why our hero could muster no ready response for the latter now, but at any rate, it was Dylan not she who Joe addressed as slowly he repeated her words:

“‘Rival interpretations of our cause?’ Dylan, do you not see that that of which Empress Ungus warned us already escalates beyond our control! From here stretches the road that leads one of us to The Foretold One!”

“I do see it,” Dylan responded. “But you’re implying it’s going to be me, and frankly, I’m not so sure of that.”

Heatedness was at last starting to touch Dylan’s tones.

“Maybe Phoenix is right, Joe. Maybe you just don’t like it that here in this galaxy, we’re establishment and you’re outside looking in. Not so long ago it was the other way round. Pretty much everyone in this room was sleeping rough, living like we were crooks on the run, because you and your buddies in the Next Four put us there. When I couldn’t fight anymore, Phoenix and her family lugged my body round war-torn Nottingham, keeping me alive. I don’t know how they managed it. But no-one noticed you lending a hand. I know, important business up in space with Gala, making sure there’d be a future threat for you to prepare the Mini-Flashes to fight against. Nice work if you can get it.”

“Dylan…” Joe began. He wondered if his friend could know how badly this pained him.

“I don’t take any pleasure in saying it, Joe,” Dylan told him. “I just need you to see that when it comes to Phoenix, Scientooth and the cause, you’re in no position to make demands.”

He spoke with finality. Looking on Dylan’s face, and the faces of Prof, Phoenix and her relatives, Joe knew this conversation was over. Therefore he announced:

“If you for your part will make no statement, and mean to remain public figures in this sector claiming allegiance to The Four Heroes…then we cannot be friends, Dylan. This oldest of friendships needs must mean nothing, as must everything we have shared. Everything. Even the day you waited for me at your home, the day we met. If our cause dictates it, then that is what I shall stand by.”

He strode for the exit, both his Mini-Flash friends hurrying after him.

“Joe,” said Dylan. Our hero halted and turned.

“On that first meeting you’re always talking about, you ordered my Dad to be quiet,” Dylan declared. “Having known me and my parents the sum total of approximately one minute. I never brought it up with you before now. But I’ve felt like it more than once. Because times like that, Joe, your unique personality wears a little thin. Even for an old friend.”