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“Will you just draw?”
“Fine. Go on.”
A head appears through the rubble and red smoke: a swoop of dark wavy hair, bright eyes, a broad smile, a strong jaw, and a mischievous chin—
“A mischievous chin?” Charles interjected. “How exactly do you propose I imbue a chin with a sense of mischief?”
Iris ignored him.
“Hello, friend!” the newcomer exclaims. “Forgive me so rude an entrance—your planet’s exosphere gave me a touch of trouble. I’m usually gentler on the way down.”
“Walter will never print that kind of innuendo.”
“He’s an alien, he doesn’t know it’s innuendo.”
“If you say so. Does our extraterrestrial friend have a name?”
“I’m getting to that part.”
“Allow me to reciprocate your introduction,” says the stranger, dusting himself off and holding out his hand in what is recognized across the universe as a symbol of friendship. “I am Prince Axilon P’Shar the Brave of Ko-Fon-Thet, Son of the Star King Vixus, Steward of the Lesser Worlds.” He pauses for a second, then adds: “That includes this charming place.”
“Lesser world?” Ranger sputters. “In all my days—”
“I mean no insult,” says the prince. “I only mean the planets with civilized societies that have not yet mastered intergalactic travel.”
“Well, there have been a few setbacks in that regard,” says Ranger, remembering his own adversity while traversing the wormhole, the war on Zalia, and the loss of his beloved Sura, all trials that stemmed directly from Man’s quest to the stars. “But what brings you to our world?”
“It is a tradition among my people,” the prince explains. “The second-born son of the Star King will travel out into the galaxy, offering assistance and friendship to any and all he encounters. It is my sworn and sacred duty.”
“Your offer of help is much appreciated,” says Ranger, “but unnecessary. This planet already has a bodyguard.” (He is unaware that even now, at this very moment, the man formerly known as Professor Oswald is undergoing a transformation that will place Earth in grave danger.)
The alien tilts his head.
“How curious,” he muses.
“What?” Ranger asks.
“That you believe yourself capable of guarding the front door as well as the back, at the same time.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Only that a wise man takes the hand of friendship. Until I have aided this planet in some way, I am bound by the ancient code of my people to remain.”
“And…how long might that be?”
“You would have to consult the Seers at the great caves of Elsor,” the prince says, “for precognition is not one of my gifts.”
“What are your gifts, exactly?”
At that moment, they both hear an engine approaching above them, nearing the bridge that Axilon destroyed on his descent. A moment later, Ranger’s enhanced eyesight can make out headlights.
“They must not be able to see the hole in the road!” he says, readying himself to scale the ravine should he need to catch the vehicle as it falls. Before he can move, the air around him begins to swirl with scarlet energy, and he watches in dumbstruck wonder as the ruined stones of the bridge float back up above them to form a new makeshift bridge. The car passes over it and vanishes into the trees on the other side of the valley. When Ranger turns to the prince, he is resplendent in a crimson glow.
“One of my gifts,” he says.
Ranger smiles and extends his hand.
“What did you say your name is again?”
