And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie archive
once again.

And here's where you can find The Bellerophon Gambit (and other
MISC LNH tales):

https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/Misc/

And we have the conclusion of The Bellerophon Gambit by 'Dial "D" for'
Dave Van Domelen! Is it time for PegaSYS to trash an office?!
Is it time for (fictional) Dave Van Domelen to embrace his DESTINY?!
And what about X-Chequer?!? What about him?! Are we going to get
an X-Chequer miniseries -- or at least a One Shot?!!!

Find out in...

_
| | Classic
| | =
| | ____ ____ _ ____ ___
| |__ | [] | | [] | | | | [] | | _ \

|____| \__] \__ | |_| \__/ |_|\_\
||
|_| OF NET.HEROES

ADVENTURES #305

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THE BELLEROPHON GAMBIT The Conclusion
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Part Three "To Ride PegaSYS"
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On Andale Atoll, Acton Lord moved into a flurry of activity. The
Superbowl had just ended, and Action Lord had to be sent back in time using the
Foreshadower Tubes in order to implement his part of the plan. Meanwhile, the
tracer Acton Lord had placed on the PegaSYS during a chance encounter on
TrekMUSE Refuge had only twenty minutes of operational power left. The base
was chaos in perfect orchestration.
Acton Lord no sooner threw the switch on the Foreshadower than he leapt
into the machine himself, resetting it for crosstimeindex to send him on the
trail of the mystical beast he sought. In his hand was a harness forged from
AlmostUnobtainium, a material not quite as strong as Unobtainium, but also
more, well, obtainable. As he began to fade he fervently hoped that the delay
hadn't cost him his prize to the all-powerful Fan.Dom of the Alt.Ra....

* * * *

The all-powerful Fan.dom of the Alt.Ra was at that very moment finally
closing in on alt.greener.pastures, where his instrumentation told him the
PegaSYS was.
"Honestly, Damn Yankee, one would think you had no sense of direction
whatsoever! We lost almost two weeks on that shortcut you took through
alt.religion.kibology. Oh well, at least I was able to add to my collection of
Obscure Religious Icons."
"Sorry, boss. Say, if you're so all-powerful, why didn't you just zap us
ta da alt.greener.pastures?" asked the Northern Nabob of Negativity.
The Fan.Dom sighed. "I've told you this before, you know. Well, it'll
pass a few paragraphs, if nothing else." Ignoring Damn Yankee's puzzled look
at his turn of phrase [Ed. note: The Fan.Dom is all-powerful, hence KNOWS he
lives in a fictional universe], he continued. "You see, I learned soon after I
gained my powers that absolute power is really boring. I mean, what's an
immortal life with no challenges? Thus I intentionally hobble myself in order
to make existence tolerable. Certainly, I could own everything I wished
with but a thought, but it's not the having, it's the thrill of getting.
Haven't you ever intentionally done something the hard way just for fun? I
mean besides that last 'shortcut'."
"Er, no boss. You created me outta whaddya call whole cloth. I've only
been around for a few months, tops. But is dat why ya got all dese gizmos and
henchmen and stuff I see around the base? Ta make tings more challenging? So,
like, it's more exciting to win by a field goal in the last five seconds than
to run away with the game 52-17?"
After a momentary look of puzzlement at his lackey's statement, the
Fan.Dom replied, "Exactly. I also damp down my omniscience so I don't always
know what lies ahead. The closer to the wire it gets, the happier I am. And
although I am curious as to why you became so incompetent recently, I am
intentionally not letting myself know, since it will obviously provide me with
some sort of later challenge."
Damn Yankee gulped and said sheepishly, "Aw, boss, can't a guy have an off
week or two? Ya ain't gonna...bag me...are ya?"
"No, not yet. Maybe after I get the PegaSYS. So you have that long to
shape up."
"Yes, sir!"

* * * *

In a major Midwestern university, the being who was once known as Dial "D"
for dvandom, capricious scourge of RAC, sat despondently in his tiny cubicle,
wracking his brain over Quantum Mechanics equations for his Midterm that week.

* * * *

Acton Lord suddenly found himself about forty meters above the ground, a
rather untenable position for a native ground-dweller. Obviously the PegaSYS
had been in flight as he homed in on it. But he had anticipated such an entry,
and activated his powers, corrupting the curvature of spacetime to reduce
gravity locally and allow him to descend unharmed.
He surveyed his location. It looked for all the world like a grassy
valley between two craggy hills. A few twisted bushes and briars clung to the
sides of the hills at painful-looking angles, and the grass was interspersed
with ankle-high clover. Some area looked to have been recently cropped by some
animal. In the distance, he heard a small brook murmuring.
Heading toward the sound, Acton Lord surveyed the skies, looking for the
PegaSYS. A few fluffy clouds drifted lazily by under the noonday sun. A swarm
of gnats buzzed nearby, but didn't approach near enough to be swatted. A
winged form caught his eye, but it was only an owl of some sort. "Odd for an
owl to be out during the day...the creator of this news.group must have been
lax in his research," thought Acton Lord. Briefly kneeling, he pulled up a bit
of the turf, revealing a label reading "alt.greener.pastures". Nodding quietly
to himself, as if this confirmed a pet theory of some kind, he stood back up
and rounded a knoll.
There before him was the brook, wending down between the hills. On the
other side was some sort of pavilion, walled on three sides by evil looking
briars. The side facing him was open, and just beyond it he saw the object of
his search...the PegaSYS!
Stealthily he crept toward the beast, careful to keep the briars between
him and it. He had wisely worn a dull brown jumpsuit, which blended well into
the bushes. He had just reached the point on the hedge nearest the PegaSYS,
when suddenly a flying craft screamed into view! Cursing as he recognized the
insignia of the Fan.Dom of the Alt.Ra on the side, Acton Lord leapt for the
startled pseudo-horse.
Time seemed to stand still. The PegaSYS leapt skyward in the direction of
the pavilion. Acton Lord rose to meet it. And from the craft emerged a mylar
snug, rapidly hurtling toward both of them. A powerbeam lanced out from Acton
Lord's right hand, deflecting the bag, and at the same time his left hand
snared the PegaSYS in the AlmostUnobtainium harness. The PegaSYS bucked, and
Acton Lord was forced to hang on with both hands while activating the harness's
control circuits. He was a sitting duck for the next mylar snug, should it
come. But suddenly the craft lurched, as if hitting an unexpected thermal,
and the bag flew wide of its mark. Laughing at the obvious success of his
plan, Acton Lord then initiated control, and the PegaSYS warped out as the
third bag zoomed toward it....

* * * *

"THAT'S IT! I'm SOOOOO cheesed, Damn Yankee. I think it's time I flex a
little metaphysical might and find out exactly why you *intentionally* made me
miss that shot!"
"But boss! I thought you said you liked a challenge! So I made it harder
for you to aim..." stammered the Rust-belt Raider.
"Sorry, that doesn't cut the mustard...ACTION LORD! Don't try to leap out
of my lackey's body, mister," said the Fan.Dom as he wrapped the hapless
individual in Spiritual Snugs. "Now, Damn Yankee, just step out of there and
leave our couch potato friend behind."
Damn Yankee did so, and nearly fainted. "Eurgh! Nearly a month with that
spud letting my body go to pot! And I have a splitting headache from watching
so much TV...and I feel nauseous!"
Action Lord could say nothing, as he had no mouth in his disembodied form.
Yet he had the strangest urge to scream.
"Now, you personified typo, we'll see where you look best on my wall, and
then go about getting the PegaSYS away from your ally..." chuckled the Fan.Dom
of the Alt.Ra....

* * * *

"YAAAAAAAAH!!!!! What the hell is that horse doing in my office!"

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Part Four "Brass Ring or Bust"
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As we open, the scene is a small office area in a Major Midwestern
University. Tiny cubicles normally fill the room, but most have been knocked
over by the wings of the mighty PegaSYS. Fortunately the ceiling is high
enough that the horse doesn't panic from claustrophobia. A pudgy man wearing
glasses and a Suicide Squid T-Shirt lies in one corner, an expression of
amazement and fear on his face. Astride the PegaSYS is Acton Lord, no longer
wearing the drab brown jumpsuit he wore to capture the beast, but rather his
full regalia. Reaching down to the man, he speaks.
"Come, Mr. Van Domelen. Your destiny awaits."
"Er, yeah. Right. Can it wait until after my midterms? Jeez, Frank is
gonna have a fit over what your horse did on his desk."
[Watchdog here. How can it be that the very writer of this story is not
aware of what is going on? Simple. This is an alt.version of the writer, the
one who was at one time Dial "D" for Dvandom. The actual writer of this story
has never entered the net.worlds.]
Acton Lord's face took on a darker cast. "You may not know what role you
played in my history, Creator, but I will not allow some poorly-considered
retcon stand in the way of my continued existence. I know you have the DVANDOM
Dial. Its power stands out like a beacon to one senstitive to the ways of
power."
"What are you talking about? And why do you look like me on steroids?"
stammered the grad student.
"Hold out your left hand. JUST DO IT!" Acton Lord commanded. When the
man did so, Acton Lord grabbed the cheap Casio watch on Dave's wrist, searing
it with a PowerBeam. Before Dave could scream, the plastic had burned off,
revealing the indestructable Unobtainium DVANDOM Dial underneath. "Now do you
remember???"
"Yeah, I remember. But I didn't have the time for all the net.foolishness
I was in. I had a real life to consider, so I wrote a story that would remove
me from the continuity by tying your origin to Sig.Lad's metamorphosis."
"And you did a sloppy enough job of it, too. For what about Action Lord?
Where did Sig.Lad come from in the first place? And what about X-Chequer?!?
Without you to dial up X-Chequer to kill off RAC during Cry.Sig, it would not
be destroyed! And it still exists, as a pitiful wretch of a world, because
you rewrote history without thinking first!"
"So what do you want *ME* to do about it? Retcon more? Listen, I don't
have the time to go over all those megabytes of storyline and insert the proper
dialed-up characters. I have to get this E&M done by tomorrow."
"I have already amassed the necessary coordinates. By riding the PegaSYS
we can replace all of the necessary characters in their proper time indexes in
a twinkling. You will hardly be missed here. Now grab your coat, this could
be a chilly ride.
Dial "D" for dvandom grabbed his black trenchcoat, black fedora and black
walking stick and donned them, then Acton Lord helped him up onto the back of
the PegaSYS.
With a single wingbeat, the great net.horse was airborne and already
surging through the net.worlds. In a pair of computer-colored, surreal
double-page spreads with lots of weird camera angles and closeups, the two
flitted like phantoms throughout time and space, restoring the origins of every
character that D"D"D had ever dialed up. Yes, even Letter.Man, although that
one quickly moved to another news.group. As the pages progress, the Dial is
glowing ever brighter, as it is channelling energies at a rate that challenges
the capacity of even Unobtainium. Then it is done, and they come to rest on
the hillock overlooking the pavilion where the PegaSYS was found last issue.
"Whew. That was tougher than a problem out of Jackson," sighed D"D"D.
"What next?"
"What happens next s that I blast you [ZAPP!] and steal your dial while
you are too tired to prevent its theft! BWAHAHAHA! With this dial, and the
PegaSYS, I can travel to the Source Code, and gain infinite power without any
corruption!" Laughing maniacally, Acton Lord spurred the PegaSYS into flight
and shoved the unconscious form of D"D"D to the ground.
Higher and higher flew Acton Lord. Soon he began to encounter resistance,
but the power of the Dial broke through it. Up through passwords and system
buffers he rose, growing in confidence and arrogance the whole time.
Then an owl flew in front of the PegaSYS, causing it to rear and buck. His
attention diverted from controlling the power of the Dial, Acton Lord suddenly
felt a searing pain in his wrist! He smelled his own flesh burning as the Dial
overheated and melted to slag, burning his hand off in the process! Screaming
in pain, Acton Lord clutched the stump of his left wrist as the molten remians
of the dial fell from him. But in doing so, he lost control of his mount, and
was thrown.
Down he fell, screaming and desperately trying to use his power to save
himself. But nothing worked. Whether it was the pain that kept him from
saving himself, or some outside source, no one will ever know.
After an eternity of pain and confusion, Acton Lord's world suddenly
turned bright red before fading rapidly to black, as his body was torn by the
briars of the thorn bush he landed in.

* * * *

Back on Fan.Dom's flying craft, the cosmic collector observed the fall of
Acton Lord with a certain amount of pleasure. He spoke one word:
"Bellerophon."
"What do you mean by that, sir?" asked Damn Yankee, who had returned from
the bathroom compartment after taking several emetics.
"If only Acton Lord was a student of the classics as I am," said the
fan.Dom of the Alt.Ra, gesturing to his traveling copies of Classics
Illustrated. "Bellerophon sought to use the Pegasys in Greek Mythology. At
first he used it in service of the people, and the gods permitted it. But when
he tried to fly to Olympus to become a god, he was struck down, and fell a
great height into a briar patch. He lived the rest of his life a deformed
cripple. But Acton Lord reached much higher, so fell further. That body will
not be getting up again. However, with all of those GIFs (which I have a
bagged and signed edition of) I'm sure he'll be back."
"Will we be going after the PegaSYS, sir?"
"No, I don't think so. It has joined the Source Code, and even *I* am not
powerful or foolish enough to attempt to go there. Nor will we go after th
remains of the DVANDOM dial, since it is no longer in even Fair condition. No,
let's go home, Damn Yankee. I'll unbag Slim Goodbody to help you work off
those extra pounds. He needs to get out every so often to stay fresh anyway."
And with that, the craft warped out of alt.greener.pastures, the extra
passenger leaping off the top unnoticed as he turned into a data stream and
left by his own means [Watchdog note: this is Sig.Lad, having caught a ride in
alt.religion.kibology].

* * * *

Below, on the hillock, a figure in a black trenchcoat began to sit up,
propping himself with his black walking stick. A glowing blob of golden metal
appeared in the sky and fell slowly until it had flowed over the top of the
staff, which then was remade into Ebon Unobtainium. The figure stood
dramatically, his eyes shaded by his hat (or perhaps by some supernatural
power), and his Suicide Squid T-Shirt visible under his opened coat.
"I am Dial "D" for dvandom no longer. With my Editorial Staff and newly
found Comic Awareness, I am now and forevermore, the....
DVANDOM STRANGER!!!!!!!"
Somewhere lighting crackled.

* * * *

At the Net.Ropolis Cemetery for Currently Dead Superbeings, there was a
major commotion. A lightning bolt of Dramatic Energy had struck one of the
graves. Workmen were searching for the headstone, but the grave was already
seen to be empty. One of them ran, breathless up to the supervisor.
"Ahunh...I found it...hunh....The dead guy is named Ellipses King."
"Not dead anymore, he isn't. This could be bad. Alot of fire and
electricity and a missing corpse." The supervisor flipped through one of the
files on his comppad. "We could have an Elemental on our hands."
"But they've sucked since Willin<WHAP> Owww...."
"Not that kind. The DC kind."
Everyone shuddered, save one man hidden conveniently in shadows. He
didn't shudder, he rubbed his hands in joy. "Now is the time for my
return...."

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Next Week: Something, something Classic LNH!!

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Arthur "Same Classic Channel. But Same Time? Probably not." Spitzer