Golden Man

Professor Magnes Aeolus proudly looked out the window of his space station.

Actually, he was looking at a monitor he had jury-rigged from an old Zenith television - the station didn't have any windows.

In truth, the station was lacking in a lot of ways. The computer was actually an amalgamation of several tape drives and CPUs linked together by flat, multicolored cables. Beds were two sleeping bags rolled up in a corner, and the toilet often failed to work.

Still, it was a privately-funded, privately-launched, fully-functioning satellite in geosychronous orbit 22,300 miles above the earth.

That alone made it remarkable.

"Uh, Magnes?"

The professor turned with an audible sigh.

"We'll flush it later, Griffin."

"What?" the younger man asked blankly. "No. No, that's not - Magnes, I think this is getting out of hand."

It was the disheveled, wild-haired man's turn to pause.

"Hmm?"

"I helped you build this project to show the world it could be done. I don't think this satellite was built to demonstrate how to beam solar power back to earth."

"No-o-o-o?"

The professor walked calmly to a keyboard and began to type.

"It will beam power back to earth," he stated with some amusement. "A great deal of power."

"This... isn't what I wanted, Magnes," Griffen said, nervously running his hands through his reddish-blond hair. "You... you've built a death ray."

"Michael, Michael," the odd little man shook his head, smiling. "It's only a death ray if you use it to kill people. I'm just going to use it to intimidate some people - starting with the Greek government."

He looked up at his cowering friend.

"They don't have a space program, you know," he said, eyes twinkling.

"What, what about... superheroes?"

"Fah!" the professor spat dismissively. "By my calculations we're perched over Thessaloniki - those costumed idiots could hardly care about something halfway around the world.

"But in case they do, I've got -

"The Golden Golem!" he cackled hysterically.

Griffen rolled his eyes. He had put up with the cackling because the professor was brilliant.

Crackers, but brilliant.

"If you ever finish - "

Aeolus instantly stopped laughing and turned deathly serious.

"Loading all that information.

"Takes.

"Time."

He poked his young friend in the chest.

"Don't worry. As soon as the information transfer is finished, I'll complete the process of transferring my personality into the Golem. He'll be able to act on his own, to think!"

He wiped a tear from his eye.

"Like me."

"Proximity alarm. Proximity alarm."

Mike Griffin started. He knew it was just a recording, but the professor having the alarm sound in the voice of Margaret Thatcher really bothered him.

"Who knew there was so much junk in space?" the professor mused, activating a baker's dozen monitors of various sizes. "Really, someone ought to clean -

"Awk!"

Though the monitors' resolution was fuzzy, four figures could be seen approaching from what the scientists labeled for convenience "the west".

"Superheroes.

"Can't make out who. Michael. Can you - Michael?"

He looked up, but Michael was already gone.

He shrugged.

He certainly hadn't persuaded Michael to join him because of his bravery.

The professor turned back toward his monitors. Now the heroes were close enough for him to recognize.

The Justice Squadron.

"Everyone seeing what I'm seeing?" Captain Thunder mused over his radio.

"If you're asking 'is that a space station?'," Nova replied, "I'd say yes."

Cap nodded to the brunette in the sky blue minidress. Trimmed in violet, the dress' long sleeves ended in funky violet gloves, to match her buccaneer boots. Around her waist she wore a too-heavy belt of white with purple trim, with a wide, wide collar to match.

He briefly wondered what kind of business he'd gotten into where that was considered normal dress.

"No national markings - definitely rogue," Iron Ace stated calmly, as if this weren't his first time in space. In his blue and silver flightsuit, with his silver flight wings deployed, he looked more like a spaceship than the actual one in front of them.

"Well," smiled Thunderbolt, pulling ahead of the others. "Let's give them a rousing wel - "

"Aaa-yyyiii-aaah!"

Her words were lost in a brilliant flash of light, so intense even the Thunder Twins' eyes were hurt by the glare.

"Terri? Terri!"

Flashes of colors that didn't have names burst in Thunder's eyes as he frantically looked left, right, above, below, searching for any sign of his sister.

"Taking evasive maneuvers," Iron Ace calmly reported. "Still flying blind.

"Sensors say she's to your left and back thirty degrees, Captain."

"Thanks, Ace," Thunder said as he soared back to the floating figure in the purple minidress.

Jeez, she was so still! Unconscious - or -

"Oww," she moaned as he approached. "Anyone get the number of that truck?"

"You okay?"

She nodded painfully. "Mom always said there'd be days like this."

She righted herself and shook her head.

"Come on."

"You all right?" Nova radioed.

"Yeah. I'm good. That thing packs quite a punch."

"Sight is good to go," Iron Ace swooped over to the small gathering. "Glare filters now in place.

"Captain?"

He drew himself up. Heck, he'd be just as happy letting someone else take charge - but these were the sons and daughters and proteges of the world's mightiest superheroes. And as the son of one of the greatest of all, it was to him that the others turned.

"Let's get that cosmic cannon or whatever," he said, starting toward the satellite again. "We're not racing a countdown or anything, so take your time and avoid those shots."

Nova's hands began to glow white.

"Still have those heat-seekers, Ace?"

"That's affirmative."

"Well, then!"

The woman in blue used one hand to steady her other arm, then unleashed a stream of plasma that dispersed the farther out it travelled. By the time it impacted the gun on the bottom of the satellite, it did very little damage.

"Umm," Thunder said. "You might want to wait until we're closer."

"In space?" Nova smiled.

"Space's cold, gun's now hot," Iron Ace nodded as a missile fired from a port above each bicep. "Smart. Locked on."

The missiles exploded in silence, demolishing the weapon's 'barrel'.

"Nice," Thunderbolt said with a smile, zooming to the remnants of the cannon.

"Let's... just... uuunnh!"

She tore the cannon completely off of the space station, then casually tossed it aside.

Odd, not hearing the metal rend or small explosions or something.

"Um, how do we get in without it decompressing?"

Captain Thunder flew slowly around the station. There was what looked like a small rocketship docked to the station's entrance.

"Hey, Ace. Think you can bypass the airlock?"

Iron Ace smiled inside his flightsuit.

"Affirmative."

Various tools popped out of the suit's fingertips.

"Just give me a minute."

"Michael! I need you to activate - acht!"

Where the hell had Griffin gone off to? The station was only so big!

The professor could only stare in horror and fascination at the viewscreen as Captain Thunder casually moved his only means of escape - the transport ship - out of the way.

If only he had had a few more days - then the Golem would be ready. Then maybe he had a chance.

But the girl had shaken off a blast that would have leveled several city blocks. They had quickly, almost effortlessly, disarmed his cannon. And the only reason that they weren't already in here is that they were trying not to harm him.

He had never felt so helpless.

Or so very old.

There was one option left to him, one last opportunity to thumb his nose at the agents of law.

Luckily, he had never built a base without a self-destruct.

He was not exactly sure when he became aware that he was... well, alive.

His first memory was of awakening amongst the pines. Bits and pieces of metal lay on the ground, still partially covered by the remnants of the winter snows.

He remembered seeing the remains of a man that looked like he had been wearing a hat - no, a helmet, with various wires and curls of steel inside.

Eventually he had come to the realization that he might have been wearing a similar helmet, since he found one (though cracked in half) nearby and no one else was around to wear it.

In any case, that was irrelevant, because he had walked many, many miles before this realization hit.

He had recognized that he had no clothes, mainly because the body had been wearing some and also for some strange reason he thought they were his.

Or something. He realized that the above thought made little sense but at the same time seemed logical.

Odd.

In any case the pants and shoes fit well enough and the shirt was a little small, but he now had clothes.

Why not? The dead man wasn't using them.

This in turn brought up the concept of "theft".

And after a few days of running this through his head he decided that theft was indeed wrong, and he would never take anything again, if only to avoid the bad feelings he got when he thefted.

This, in turn, brought up the concepts of good, and evil.

To him, this seemed fairly staightforward.

One should not spoil such pristine wilderness with garbage, because over time the wilderness will be less clean each time you wanted to use it. One should not kill animals, because then their friends would be less inclined to be friendly to you.

Same rule for people, he supposed.

Supposed, mainly, because he had not seen another person. Ever.

That couldn't be true - he had memories of people, in general at least. All kinds of people.

Especially superheroes.

What was his fascination with those people in the gaudy costumes? and why did it seem as if all his memories were... well, second-hand?

And why hadn't he any memories of one person, one individual?

Thinking about such things made his head hurt.

He paused.

Down a gentle slope before him, a river slowly churned its way through the forest.

He suddenly realized he should be... thirsty, he dimly recalled the word. Thirsty, that was it.

Besides, he smiled as he made his way down to the waters, it was good to see something besides trees and mountains for a change.

He took a long drink - it was cold, and good.

He took another.

Hmm. People built towns along the river. People lived in towns. If he followed the river he would come to a town.

He blinked.

Why had he - ?

He shook his head.

It made sense, and he really hadn't any other plans. And he was beginning to feel that he didn't belong in the mountains and forests.

So why was he out here?

"Cap?"

Nova stood with her violet buccanneer boots ankle deep in the spring snows, activating the radio in her oversized collar.

"Thunder here."

"We found some remnants of that space station, the one that blew up a few months back? Some pretty large pieces."

"Large enough for someone to escape?"

"Escape once, sure," Black Owl said, kneeling down besides the skeleton nearby. "Found a body, or what's left of one. Looks like the animals have been at it; it was a cold winter."

The dark-clad man looked up at Nova.

"Looks like this is what's left of the guy from that satellite."

"At least you found him. Guess that wraps up that case, then," Thunder said. "Good work, you two."

"We've called the county coroner," Nova nodded. "We'll stay until he shows."

Black Owl smiled.

"Case closed."

He continued walking along the river; the ground was softer and more level here, but still rough enough to tell him that cities and people were still a long way off.

Or, he thought as he cocked his head, maybe not.

He hurried his pace a bit.

It sounded like... yelling, and growling?

As he came around a gentle curve, he saw - people! People near the center of the shallow river - and a... a... bear. That was it.

A young man in a helmet and lifevest was shouting and desperately swinging an oar, trying to keep the bear away. A young woman, similarly attired, was screaming frantically, pulling on her leg, which was not moving. The bear, either hungry from his long winter's nap or just extremely annoyed, was towering on its rear legs, swiping at the oar.

And the rapidly-moving river, fed by the melting snows, was threatening to drown the woman despite any action the bear or the man might take.

"Jer-e-meeeeee!"

"Gowan! Git! Go!"

Karunch!

The bear caught the oar on the downswing, shattering it on a rock in midstream!

The young man looked at the handle in his hands.

"Ohh, man."

The bear lunged -

Only to have a golden arm insert itself in his open maw!

"Hey, there," he said. "No eating the people."

The bear swiped at his head with his paws, still trying to gnaw on his arm.

"Oww."

He grunted as he grabbed the bear and lifted him up out of the water!

"Uh. Be right back," he said to the stunned couple.

He leapt for the shore, carrying the bear along.

The bear was as shocked as the pair in the river. He looked at the gleaming golden figure, then loped off into the woods.

The man made his way out to midstream once more.

"Pickings must be kind of lean this time of year," he nodded toward the retreating bear.

Now where did he get that?

"Easy, there," he smiled as he bent down toward the shaking girl.

"My leg," she whimpered. "It's stuck... "

"Here, why don't you hold onto her, while I - "

The young man nodded, still in shock.

"Grab... this... uh, rock's kind of - "

Kawhoom!

"Eep!"

He laughed. "Come on, let's get you to shore."

He leapt over the waters, causing his young charges to gasp.

"Mind if I ask what you were doing in the middle of the river?" he said pleasantly.

"R-rafting," the man panted, collapsing to the grass. "Raft.. tipped... "

"Hmm. Oh, I see it," he said. "Be right back."

He jogged downstream a good hundred yards and gathered the raft from rocks near shore. Then he casually carried it back to the still-recovering couple.

"Here you go.

"By the way... that was really brave, fella."

"Th-thanks."

"Are... are you a superhero?" the young woman asked, pointing to the monogram on his shirt.

He looked down in surprise, then looked up, grinning.

"Why, yes.

"Yes, I am."

So that was it. He was a superhero!

That explained a lot - including how he had handled the bear so easily.

Wow.

"Okay. Gotta be going, now," he said pleasantly.

"Thanks," was all the dumbfounded man could think to say.

"Yeah," the woman said. "Thank you, Golden Man!"

Golden Man, he thought as he waved and walked downriver.

That must be his hero name, he thought, looking at his reflection in the water. After all, he was wearing the monogram - and he was, evidently, made of gold.

Two good points.

But gold - wasn't that a maleable metal? Soft? Shouldn't the bear's bite have at least damaged him a little?

He exhaled forcefully.

Just... accept it.

He was Golden Man.

He walked along into the lengthening shadows.

Now if only he could remember what his secret identity was...