Karate Kid

Times Past, 1981

An Old-Fashioned Christmas

by Martin Maenza

Charles Brewer carried a large parcel under his arm as he walked up the Manhattan sidewalk towards the brownstone where he lived. The man whistled as he walked with a pleasant look on his face and a friendly greeting for those he encountered. The man was heavyset, but the walk from the subway station to his home when the winter air had a bit of a chill was invigorating. A few flakes of snow started to fall from the sky, and that made him smile. He truly loved the holiday seasons.

After climbing the six steps to his stoop, he noticed a small brown papered package waiting for him. “Oh,” he said with some surprise, “I wonder what that can be.” He placed the large parcel down while he unlocked his front door. Then, he picked up both packages and carried them inside.

Once inside, he put the larger box down on the couch with the mystery package next to it. He then fetched a letter opener from the desk and began to cut into the taped top of the newly arrived box. “Perhaps someone sent me a holiday present,” he mused, looking for some kind of familiar return address. None was evident. Once a large slit was made, Charles put down the opener and peeled back the two ends of cardboard.

There was packing material on top, the Styrofoam popcorn kind. He reached between the material, rummaged around for a few seconds and then found the item inside. Charles lifted it out, spilling the Styrofoam to the floor, to reveal a porcelain ballerina atop a small ornate box. “Oh, my,” he said with a smile, “how pretty.” He gave the little brass key in the back a few turns, then set the item down on a flat surface and bent over it to get a better view.

A little musical tone played ‘I’m Dreaming of A White Christmas’ while the ballerina spun slowly on the platform. As she performed her dance, her arms raised and lowered in a mechanical way. Charles smiled even more so. “Very nice. I wonder who…?”

Before he could finish his words, a stream of gas shot out from the sculpted girl’s finger tips, enveloping Charles’ face in a cloud of noxious fumes. The man clutched his throat but for naught. He fell back on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

After a moment, the front door latch clicked and a stocky man with long brown hair slipped into the home. He turned and entered the front room where Charles lay unmoving on the floor. The music box finished the last of its tune and stopped. The newcomer smiled, picked up the music box and said “a wonderful job, my dear.”

He then turned to the couch where the other package was. Lifting the lid, a red suit with white trim was visible. There was also a floppy hat that matched, dark boots and a belt, and a fake white beard and wig. “Excellent,” the man said, closing the box again. “Just what I need.” He reached down and fished the wallet out of Charles’ pants pocket. It included about thirty dollars in assorted bills, a driver’s license and a store identification card. “Excellent.”

The man tossed the wallet and the music box into the box with the suit, then closed the box and picked it up. “Don’t worry about a thing, Charlie, my boy,” the man said as he stood over the fallen body. “I’ll make sure your commitments are kept. After all, we can’t disappoint all those kids who want things from Santa, can we? Ha ha ha ha!” The man with the brown hair and glasses locked the door to the brownstone behind him as he left. If things worked out right, it would be after the New Year before anyone found the late Charles Brewer. That would give him ample time to enact his plan.
***

 

With less than a week before Christmas, the Big Apple was feeling very chilled. Some snow accumulations were visible between the sidewalks and the street. Despite the weather, a young man with wavy brown hair and broad shoulders walked along the west side of the city without so much as a coat, hat, gloves or scarf. He was dressed in black pants and a white short sleeved shirt with a high yellow collar and a black T-shirt underneath. A black belt and brown wrist bands completed the outfit.

Folks he passed by gave him second glances, more so wondering why he wasn’t bothered by the icy cold chill than why he was dressed so oddly. He didn’t concern himself with the looks he was receiving because he was focused on the building numbers as he moved up the block.

“2133 should be near here,” he said to himself. Finally, he noticed the number beneath a hanging sign with the image of a sun peering over the horizon. It hung before a stairwell leading to a second floor business. Karate Kid climbed the stairs two at a time with a quick step of his white boots.

At the top, he found a glass door and opened it slowly. Inside was a large room with mirrors on two sets of the walls, and a large series of mats that covered a good portion of the floor. On the mats, an oriental man stood in front of a group of men and women of varying ages; he was dressed in a red top and black pants while they wore white. All were barefoot.

Val Armorr bowed his head slightly, mostly out of habit, as he entered and then quietly found a seat along the wall. He noticed the trophies along the shelf near the back, along with a folding screen with an ornate painted design that separated the office area from the main instructional area. Kwai Chang’s, he thought to himself. Why didn’t she tell me?

Val leaned back and watched quietly as the teacher went through his instruction. The man was teaching the group a series of kicks: front, side and round, with more complex combinations for the higher ranking students.

Inevitably, Val’s mind wandered back to his own youth, growing up in Japan. But, in fact, his past was not ‘back’ but actually ‘forward’ in the future, the 30th Century to be exact.

Val Armorr, born the son of Valentina Armorr and Kirau Nezumi, a master criminal known as the Black Dragon, was raised by another man when his mother died. The man who raised him, a man he knew only as Sensei, was more than just his teacher in the martial arts. Val learned from Sensei to appreciate peaceful pastimes such as sculpting and painting, and how to draw upon his own inner strength through cleansing meditation and spiritual enlightenment. Val was an eager student but eventually grew restless.

In his late teens, Val left Japan and headed to sprawling city of Metropolis to join the famed Legion of Super-Heroes. Unlike those hopefuls who came from other planets with the unique abilities of their races, Val viewed the whole thing as a challenge. How could he make himself, a non-powered Earth human, into a Legionnaire? With a proficiency in all forms of hand-to-hand combat and hand weaponry and his own specially designed form of super-karate, Val tried out for the team on the eve of the Khund invasion and was accepted along side three others: Ferro Lad, Nemesis Kid and Princess Projectra.

The fates would take their turns with his three fellow inductees.

One would die in the ultimate sacrifice to save the universe from the deadly threat of the Sun-Eater. Another would become Val’s bitter rival and part of the reason he now was spending time in the 20th Century, nearly a thousand years before his birth. And the third, ah the third, she would become the true love of Val’s life and the other reason he was here in the ancient past, proving his worth as a suitor to a daughter of royalty.

It had taken a little while for Val to adjust to the ancient ways of the 20th Century, but he did so with the help of some new found friends. One of whom was the red haired woman with freckles and glasses that was taking classes here.

The teacher had commanded the students to line up like the beginning of class. When all were in place, he said “Chareyut!” Immediately, the men and women stood tall, feet together and arms at their sides.

Next, the teacher said “Rei!” They all bowed to him, and he bowed back. “Kneel down.” The students again followed his command.

Placing his hands on the mats before him in a triangle-like pattern, he said “Meditation begin. Mokuso hajime!” They all bowed their heads silently, eyes closed.

After a moment, he said “Mokuso yame!” They all raised their heads and opened their eyes, for meditation was over. “Good class, everyone. Remember, the dojo will be closed over the next two weeks for holiday. Do make sure you practice your katas. Sayonara.”

With that, the students were dismissed and began to move about the room to gather their things. Some went immediately to the changing rooms.

Iris Jacobs crossed the room to where her friend was sitting. “Val, thank you for coming,” the redhead said. “How long have you been here?”

“Just a little bit,” Val replied. “I didn’t know you were interested in taking karate lessons.”

“You inspire me,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “You like my gi?” She did a little turn so he could see her white uniform, tied at the waist with a white belt.

“Very nice,” he said. “You know, I would have been more than happy to have given you lessons myself.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Iris said.

A number of students had been watching as Iris talked to the handsome young man. There was then the sound of a voice, a sort of gentle clearing of one’s throat. “Ahem.”

Iris turned around to see Kwai Chang standing behind her. “Oh, Sensei,” she said, slightly startled. “May I introduce my, uh, friend Val Armorr?”

“Welcome to my dojo,” the instructor in red and black said. He had shiny, long black hair, tied back in a ponytail. He looked to be about thirty years old or so.

Val gave a slight bow. “You have a very disciplined group of students here,” he said.

Kwai Chang half smiled. “Thank you. Did I overhear that you also teach karate?”

“I practice mostly,” Val said. “Though I have given some lessons to my friends on occasion in the, uh, past.”

“Excuse me for a moment, Val, Sensei,” Iris said as she grabbed her bag and headed to the changing room to put on her regular clothes.

Kwai noticed the belt about Val’s waist. “You are a black belt,” he stated though it had some questioning tone to it. “Are you versed in the traditional forms of karate and tae kwan do?”

“Of course,” he replied proudly.

“Perhaps you would be interested in some sparring,” the oriental man offered. “Since you have no gear, we would go with light contact only.”

Val considered. He noticed the conversation between the two men had drawn some interest by the students as well. He had to weigh the option very carefully. “I certainly do not want to interfere with your class schedule,” he said.

“Not a problem at all,” Kwai replied. “I have forty minutes before my next group comes in. It would just take a few moments. You seem interested.”

“Well,” Val said hesitantly. Iris was still in the changing room, so he could not use her as an excuse. “All right.” He gave in, sat down and removed his boots and socks. He then joined Kwai Chang on the mats.

“We will use the blue colored squares for our ring,” the instructor said. “The red mats for out of bounds.” The two men moved to the center of the blue square. “Shall we begin?”

“Sure,” Val said. They both bowed to one another then immediately moved into fighting stances, one hand raised in an upper block while the other was down low, feet apart with one foot before the other.

“Ki-ah!” Kwai yelled as he lunged forward with a right punch. Val immediately countered with a upper block with his left hand, stopping the blow from connecting. Val then countered with a front kick that moved at lightning speed, but he pulled it back just as his toes barely grazed the fabric of Kwai’s uniform.

The oriental man moved back in surprise by the kick. The students watching had been impressed as well. “Very good,” he said, taking measure of his sparring partner. He knew now that the belt about Val’s waist was hardly decorative. “Let us continue.” He then countered with a series of spin sidekicks.

Val dodged them easy enough. While physically countering Kwai Chang’s moves with his own, in his mind he wrestled with how to handle the situation. How could he honorably spar and at the same time not cause the sensei to lose face in front of his students, in his own dojo?

By the time Iris Jacobs returned from the changing room dressed in a sweater and pants, the two men had been going back and forth for a few minutes. Kwai Chang was showing signs of a good work out while Val barely had broken a sweat. When she joined the others on the side, one of the other women turned to Iris and said, “Wow, that friend of yours is really good.”

Another of the women, a blonde, chimed in and added “And he’s hot looking to boot!”

Iris felt a bit uneasy about the whole thing and was hoping it would end soon. Luckily, her prayers were answered that afternoon. Val made a misstep out of the square, barely with his heel, thus ending the contest.

The brown haired youth bowed to the instructor out of respect and thanked him for good work out. Val then joined Iris along the side where he put on his footwear quickly. “Ready to go?” he asked her.

Iris nodded, and the two walked out the door and headed down the steps. She waited until they were down on the sidewalk and moving away from the martial arts school before she said, “so, you threw that sparring match, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Val asked, trying his best to act surprised.

“Don’t be coy with me, future boy,” she said playfully. “I’ve seen you in action. I know how good you really are. You’ve taken on the likes of Major Disaster, the Revenger and Master Hand. The only way you could have lost to my teacher is if you were holding back…a lot!”

Val smiled. “Well, maybe just a little.” He took her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Actually,” Iris said hesitantly, “I need to head to the train stop instead.”

“Train stop? Why?”

“That’s part of the reason why I wanted you to meet me after class,” Iris explained as they walked. “With the school kids on break, I was going to head home upstate for the holidays. Spend Christmas with my family, you know.”

“Oh,” Val said, a bit surprised. He and Iris had been pretty much inseparable since they had met that he hadn’t even thought of her going off for a few days alone. “Well, that sounds like fun. OK, the train stop it is then.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Iris apologized. “It just kind of came up, the plans I mean. Not the holiday.”

“No need to explain,” Val said. “You go and have fun. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

Iris smiled. “I wanted to give you something,” she said as she rummaged through her large duffle bag that contained her travel items, her gi and such. Val held the bag for her at the bottom while she dug. Finally, she pulled out a round item wrapped in colorful paper. “Here, this is for you.”

Val put her bag down on the sidewalk for a moment and took the offered gift. The item felt soft, and the wrapping was tied with a red ribbon. He pulled away the paper to reveal something balled up inside. “What’s this?” he asked. Letting the item unroll and dangle, it was a multicolored strip of woven material about a foot or so wide and four feet long.

“It’s a scarf,” Iris announced. “I made it myself. Do you like it?”

“It’s nice,” he said, putting it about his neck. He certainly appreciated the token. “I think this is the first time someone actually ‘made’ something for me.”

Iris took the ends of the scarf and wrapped them around a bit. “There,” she said. “Much better.”

“Thank you,” Val said a bit awkwardly. Then he paused. “I, uh, don’t have anything to give you in exchange, right now. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” Iris said. “You’ve saved my life a number of times over these last few months. It’s the least I can do. Besides, Christmas is just as much about giving as it is receiving.”

“Still…” Val said.

Iris leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

When she pulled away, he put his hand to where she kissed, surprised. “I…what was that for?” Val asked.

Iris bit her lip slightly. “Mistletoe,” she said. And with her gloved hand, she pointed to a sprig of vegetation hanging in the door frame where they stopped. “It’s a tradition here. If someone is standing under the mistletoe, you’re supposed to give them a kiss.”

Val nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard of that tradition,” he said.

“Consider that my gift,” Iris said shyly.

“Until I can get you a proper gift,” Val said as he picked up her bag. “I think perhaps we should go, though, so you don’t miss your train home.” He took her hand, and they walked on down to the station.
***

 

Val later returned to the apartment building on the west side where he had taken up residency the last few months. Just as he closed the heavy wooden front door behind him and stepped into the stairwell, the apartment door in front opened suddenly.

“Mr. Armorr!” a familiar voice chirped. It came from a woman in her early fifties, rather full figured with extremely curled grayish hair. She was dressed in blue dress with a white frilly apron. “I thought I saw you coming up the front walk.”

Val stopped and smiled at the woman. “Mrs. Geichman, hello.”

She approached him and put her left hand on the scarf that draped down his chest. “Why, what a beautiful wrap,” she said rubbing the material a few times before taking her hand away. “Wherever did you get it?”

“Iris made it for me,” he said. “It was a Christmas gift.”

“Oh, what a sweet child she is,” Emily Geichman said. “You two make such a lovely couple.”

“Uh, we’re not…” Val started to say.

His landlady interrupted him. “Speaking of Christmas gifts, I have something for you!” She ducked into her apartment door and came back with a round decorative tin. “These are for you.”

“Oh,” Val said, surprised by her gift. She stood staring, waiting on him, so he felt obligated to open the container. Carefully prying the metal lid up with his finger tips, he opened the container to see a large number of cookies inside. Shaped like stars, trees and bells, the pastries were frosted colorfully and included some sprinkles. “Why, these look lovely.”

“I made them myself,” she said proudly. She reached into the tin, grabbed one of the trees and raised it to his mouth. “Here! Try one!”

All Val could do with the oncoming ‘assault’ was to take a bite of the offered item. She watched as he chewed it in a rather prolonged way. “Well?” she asked. “Are they to die for or what?”

“Mmm, yesh….” Val said with a full mouth, not even swallowing, “..to die forfff.”

“Well, I better get back to my baking,” Mrs. Geichman said as she dropped the half-eaten cookie back into the tin and waddled back towards her apartment door. “My son Sidney, the doctor, just loves to give these out to friends, so I better finish getting things together. Happy holidays, Mr. Armorr!” Her door closed loudly behind her.

Val looked around the foyer suddenly and then darted up the stairs. Quickly he fished out his key, jammed it into the lock, threw open the door and rushed for the kitchen. He spit the remains of the cookie out into the sink, turned on the water and let it run the evidence down the disposal. “Oh boy,” he said to himself softly. “I couldn’t bear to tell Mrs. Geichman how bad those things are.”

He looked at the tin in his hands and tossed it on the counter as if it were toxic. “Yuck, I doubt even Tenzil Kem, with his Bismollian digestive system, could stomach those.” He opened the refrigerator, pulled out a can of carbonated soda and popped the top. He quickly downed the can, hoping to further wash the taste from his mouth. The bubbles in the drink caused him to belch loudly. He chuckled to himself. “Then again, Tenzil has been known to eat some rather nasty things in the past without the least bit of indigestion.”

Val moved to the living room area of his apartment, settled into one of the chairs, and continued reading a novel he had gotten out of the public library. He was growing rather accustomed to reading books that were physically in his hands, page turning and all, rather than on holo-screens as he did growing up.
***

 

A sudden knock on the door stirred Val from his sleep. He was slightly disoriented, and it took him a few moments to realize he fell asleep in the chair reading.

The knock came again.

“Coming,” he said aloud as he sprang to his feet and rushed to the door. Val checked the peep hole first before reaching for the knob, given the late hour of the visitor. When he saw who was on the other side of the door, he exclaimed, “What the…? No way!”

As he flung open the door, a group of eight individuals, five males and three females were standing there in long coats, their arms full of boxes and bags. Val recognized them instantly. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Hey, buddy,” the red haired Dirk Morgana, aka Sun Boy, said. “You going to invite us in or what?”

“Come in, come in,” Val said as he opened the door wide. “But we have to keep it down. Don’t want to wake the neighbors.”

“Don’t worry about it, Val,” the black haired Rokk Krinn, aka Cosmic Boy, said. “Just tell them you’ve got unexpected visitors from out of town.”

“Waaaaaay out of town!” the brown haired Gim Allon, aka Colossal Boy, added with a smile.

“Good to see you, Val,” the dark haired Tasmia Mallor, aka Shadow Lass, said as she gave Karate Kid a kiss on the cheek in greeting. “Lar told to give you his best.”

Val knew she was referring to Mon-El, the Legion of Super-Heroes leader. “Thanks,” he said. Then he did a double take. The woman did not have her usual blue skin tint that was common of the natives of Talok VIII. She appeared to be a normal, light skinned Earth woman. “Tasmia, that’s a new look for you!”

“You have to thank Brainy for that,” she said with a smile.

A male with short blond hair and equally colored light skin followed Tasmia into the apartment. “It was nothing really,” Queryl Dox, aka Brainiac 5, said with his usual tone of superiority. “Simply a modification to our flight rings to generate a field of illusion, allowing us to blend in anonymously with the natives of this century.”

“Don’t mind him,” the red haired Garth Ranzz, aka Lightning Lad, said. “You know how cranky Brainy can get, especially after a trip through the time stream.” On his arm was a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair.

Imra Ardeen, aka Saturn Girl, nodded in agreement with her boyfriend. “We figured since you were going to be here during the holiday season, we would bring a little joy to you.”

“Yeah,” Garth added with a smile, “even though its hardly summer from when we came.”

“Boys,” Imra said, dismissing Garth’s comments. She followed him into the room.

That left one person standing in the hallway. Val turned and saw the young woman with full, flowing white hair standing with such poise and dignity. “Jeckie, hi,” he said, leaning forward to give her a kiss. It landed on her cheek as she turned her head slightly. “Won’t you come in?”

Princess Projectra, Jeckie to her close friends, stepped into the apartment and looked around. “Very quaint,” she said. “Given our years together, I didn’t realize you had such an affinity for pink.”

Val shut the apartment door, but a chill seemed to remain in the room. “Uh, it came this way,” he said about the furnishings. “My landlady had it decorated this way, for her son. When he moved out, she rented the room and, well, I needed a place to stay that I could afford.”

“Charming,” Projectra said coolly.

Val realized this was going to be an interesting visit.
***

 

After a few hours of catching and hanging out, the apartment seemed a bit cramped for the group of young people, so Val suggested that perhaps they would like to take in some of the local sites. It was not long before the females chimed in with “shopping!”, forcing the males, who outnumbered them two to one, to give in. The group ended up at one of the largest retailers in the city, a many floored department store that took up the expanse of four large metropolitan city blocks.

And, of course, it was December 24th, the second busiest shopping day of the season, right after the day after Thanksgiving. Needless to say, the establishment was crowded with all those last minute shoppers trying to get gifts for their friends and loved ones. Folks were picking over the clothing racks in search of even the closest sizes, and shelves where the hot items of the season were long since empty.

“This is wild,” Rokk said as he watched the bustling shoppers. “I had heard tell of things like this in the history holos, but I never expected to experience it in person.”

“Hmmph,” Queryl grumbled. “I much more prefer shopping online. Less hassle, faster service with delivery to your door, and you can have hundreds of computations running in the background all the while you are doing it.”

The dark haired youth just shook his head at his teammate. “Brainy, you know how to suck the fun out of even the simplest of things.”

Gim was checking out some items on one table. His flame haired friend came up and joined him. “What’d you find, big guy?” Dirk asked.

Gim held up a brass candle holder slotted for nine candles. “It’s an old-fashioned menorah,” he replied. “I thought it would make a great Hanukkah present for my parents this year.”

Dirk checked the tag and nodded in agreement. “Hey, nothing like getting an antique at a reasonable price.”

Garth stood with two of his friends near of display case of ceramics. “Yeah, can you believe it, Val,” he was saying. “Wildfire actually won the election. With Mon-El’s term ending and Drake’s beginning, we’re going to be in for some interesting times.”

“I’m sure,” Val Armorr said. Having been leader of the Legion, like Garth and so many of the others, Val knew how difficult the job could be, especially when certain personalities clashed. Val had his share of conflicts with Mon-El during the recent term, especially over Val’s deciding to take leave of the team to come to the 20th Century. He half wondered if maybe that is why Mon-El did not join the others on this little visit after all.

“Enough of that, Garth,” Tasmia said. “He doesn’t want to hear about all the organizational interworkings. We’re here with a purpose.” She then turned to Val. “This was an excellent idea,” she said smiling. “Thanks for being such a good host.”

“No problem,” Val said absently.

“Say,” Tasmia wondered, “this is a nice scarf. Where’d you get it?”

“A friend of mine gave it to me as a gift the other day. I probably should pick up something nice for her, given that she put all her spare time into making this for me special.”

“I’m sure we can find her something. I’ll be glad to help out.”

Projectra stood by a rail, listening intently to the exchange between Val and Tasmia. She brooded silently, especially since Val had voluntarily chosen to ‘exile’ himself to this earlier century. She still did not understand why, nor was she about to confront him on it. Certainly not with everyone else around at least. The only reason she had agreed to join the others on this little ‘good will’ visit was because she was very curious about how Val had been faring.

Obviously, she thought, he’s faring just fine.

Imra joined her at the rail. “You doing OK, Jeckie?” she asked her friend.

“Fine.” As if Imra needed to ask, being from the telepathic race of Titan, one of Saturn’s moons. “It’s just a bit noisy in here is all.”

“I find it kind of nice,” Imra said, “despite the crowds.” She gestured down over the rail, to the main floor four levels down. “Look at all those people. They all seem to be in a festive mood despite the shopping frenzy. See, even the children, especially the children. Such joy on their faces as they wait in line to tell Santa Claus what they want.” She referred to a small area in the center, in a little makeshift village amidst two towering pine trees decorated with lights and large ornaments.

Projectra nodded. “The children do seem happy,” she said absently. “Have you ever thought about, you know?”

“What?” Imra asked. “Having kids? Oh sure, of course!” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “But don’t say anything to Garth about it. I certainly don’t need to scare him off with talk like that.”

“You two do seem happy together,” Projectra noted. “You’ve been a couple for so long now too. Do you think he’ll ever propose marriage to you?”

“I’m hoping,” Imra said. Then she paused. “How about you and Val? What’s going on there?”

“Honestly, Imra, I don’t know,” Projectra said sadly. She glanced over the railing and eyed the twinkling lights in the reflective surface of the ornaments. It reminded her of the stars, of being a young girl on Orando, and looking up at them at night. How much simpler life had been then. “The carefree life of a child,” she whispered.

Then she noticed something down below. Something unusual caught her eye!

Santa Claus, in the middle of seeing children, suddenly bolted up right and leapt up to stand upon his great big red chair. “The time has come,” he bellowed in a loud voice, “for the real fun and games to begin! Ha ha ha ha ha!” He pressed a button on his belt, and suddenly the toys that appeared to be mounted about the winter wonderland set sprang to life and started attacking the patrons!

“We’ve got trouble!” Projectra announced to the group.

Before the other Legionnaires could react, Karate Kid was vaulting over the railing. As he free fell the four levels down, he threw his legs over his head and began to somersault. This allowed him to control his descent easy enough. Ever since I arrived here, my flight ring’s been busted, he thought, but I know how to improvise!

He caught the edge of one of the huge decorative trees and swung himself around, changing his momentum and his speed. He released from the branches, flipped twice more and landed solidly on his two feet on the main floor. “Now to take out this troublemaker!”

“You won’t have to do this alone, Karate Kid!” a voice called from above. Val turned to see Cosmic Boy, the illusion of 20th century clothes dropped to reveal his pink and black costume, flying down. The hero from Braal was flanked by Lightning Lad dressed in blue with lightning bolt trim and white pants highlights, and Sun Boy dressed in red and yellow.

“You boys look like trouble!” Santa Claus snarled. “That puts you on my ‘naughty list’! And I’ve got just the thing for you!” He tapped his belt again.

To the panic cries of the crowd was added the sound of buzzing engines as a dozen gleaming, razor sharp winged planes began soaring about quickly, trying their best to slice any target they could be lucky to clip.

“Come on, Rokk, Dirk!” Lightning Lad rallied the troops. “Let’s make short work of these jet threats!” He outstretched his hands and electricity began to form about the end of his white gloved hands. In a second, an arc of lightning shot through the air and exploded one of the planes.

“Right with you, Garth,” Cosmic Boy replied. He cut around sharply in the air as a plane passed by him. He waited for the plane to turn to make a second pass at him and outstretched his hand. A wave of intense magnetism swept through the air and right into the path of the oncoming plane. As the plane continued to move forward, the magnetism ripped through its metal frame, tearing the deadly toy apart as if it were wheat passing through a combine. “Hah! Just as I thought. These things weren’t made to handle abilities such as ours!”

“Will you guys watch what you are doing?” Brainiac 5 yelled from below as he darted underneath the battle. A woman with a stroller had frozen in her tracks with surprise, making the pair a sitting targets for the falling shards of metal. The green skinned young man in purple ran to their side and touched the controls on his bulky yellow belt. Instantly, a protective shield shot around the three of them, and just in time! The shrapnel from the shredded plane bounced harmlessly away inches from their heads.

Santa scowled. “More of you? Well, if its a war you want, allow me to introduce my army!” Another tap of his belt and suddenly shots began to ring out all about the floor, thanks to a large platoon of six inch high army men armed with rifles and blasters.

A blue skinned woman in a skimpy black costume with a dark cape flew in action. “Perhaps I can blind them and foil their aim,” Shadow Lass said. From her hands, she projected a stream darkness that encompassed a small group. Undaunted, the warriors continued to fire wildly, and their shots were heading not only towards the heroes but to the crowds as well. “Oh, that’s not good. Not good at all!”

“Have no fear, Shady!” a booming voice called out. Suddenly a male figure in red and blue started to grow in size. In a moment, Colossal Boy was a towering giant in the center section of the store. He easily was as tall as the third floor rails. “At this size, I can block the shots and protect the people. Those bullets are hardly mosquito bites to me when I’m like this!” He positioned his body in such a way to keep most of the patrons safe as they moved towards the exits.

“Good work, Gim,” a blonde in pink called out. “While the others take on the attackers, we can act as crowd control.” Using her telepathic abilities, Saturn Girl sent a message to as many of the panicked shoppers as possible. Calmly, orderly, head for the exits! The situation is under control, but please move to safety! Thank you.

Sun Boy continued to pick off tiny soldiers one by one with his controlled flame blasts. “There’s so many of them!” he exclaimed. “This could take all day!”

“I know!” Karate Kid grumbled. A number of other mechanized figures were attacking him directly. He swatted them away like bugs as they fell down from the large Christmas trees. As the astronauts and samurais and wrestlers fell to the floor, he stomped them hard with his mighty kicks, smashing them to pieces. “We need to get to the heart of the…. gack!”

A mechanized cowboy had lassoed the brown haired hero about the head and pulled tightly. A thread thin wire loop cut into his neck.

Karate Kid shook his head back and forth violently, trying to send his attacker flying, but the little cowpoke held fast. The hero’s hands then went for his throat, his fingers trying to slip between the flesh of his neck and the garrote. Once he felt like he had a good grip on each side, he pushed outward on the loop. He felt the wire digging into his finger tips, but he refused to let up despite the pain. It was either small cuts to his fingers or the possibility of being choked to death. Val would rather take the inconvenience of the little cuts.

Finally, the wire lariat snapped, and Karate Kid fell to his knees for a moment to catch his breath. “Val, are you all right?” a white haired woman in a red costume with a red cape asked with concern as she ran up. Princess Projectra placed her hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her. “I was getting to think you didn’t care any more, Jeckie,” Karate Kid said.

“Did you actually think that?” she asked.

He was about to answer her when he came to a realization. “Santa! Where did he go?”

“I don’t…” Projectra started to say. “In all the confusion…” She glanced around. “Wait! There he goes!” She pointed to the fleeing figure.

“Let’s get him!” Karate Kid exclaimed, springing to his feet and bursting off into a full run after the man. “He’s behind all of this, and we can’t let him get away!”

Typical, Projectra thought. Duty first, and personal life last!

She decided to aid her sometimes stubborn boyfriend with her own abilities, whether he wanted the help or not. With a little concentration and the wave of her hand, her illusion casting powers went into action.

The fleeing Santa was making a bee-line for what he thought was a store exit when it suddenly vanished before his eyes. The wall yards ahead of him now appeared to be completely seamless. “What the…?” he exclaimed. “What’s going down here?”

“You are, you maniac!” Karate Kid growled as he nailed the holiday garbed man with a flying kick.

The deadly Santa went sprawling across the floor, his hat and beard tumbling off. When he looked up from the ground, a long brown haired man with glasses was revealed. “Ooooow!” he groaned. Suddenly, he was grabbed by the white furry front of his suit and hoisted in the air. “No, no! Don’t hit me again!” His hands went up to his face to protect himself from another blow.

Karate Kid shook his head in disgust as he held the rotund man aloft with one hand. With the other, he grabbed at the Santa’s belt and crushed the buckle with his strength. “Typical,” the hero said. “You use tools of destruction because you don’t have any abilities of your own!” He tossed the man down on the ground. “Who are you anyway?”

“I can answer that!” Cosmic Boy said. “Being a history buff, I’ve studied enough holos from this era to recognize that face. He’s a criminal known as the Toyman.”

“The Toyman?” Karate Kid asked. “You mean….”

“Absolutely,” Brainiac 5 said, coming up upon the others. “This whole modus operandi and positive identification indeed confirms his identity as Winslow P. Schott. This man is one of the enemies who vexed our old comrade Superboy, but only after he grew up to be Superman.”

“You? You’re friends of Superman’s? I purposely hit New York City so I could avoid that super do-gooder! All my weeks of planning and preparation were foiled by you meddling heroes!”

Brainiac 5 picked up the shattered pieces of the belt buckle. After analyzing the parts for a moment, he nodded his head. “Just as I computed. He was using this device to control all of his weapons of destruction. As soon as you destroyed it, his deadly toys ceased functioning.” Indeed, the sounds of battle had passed, and the Legionnaires were able to check to see if any innocents had been hurt in the crossfire.

“Good going, Val,” Cosmic Boy said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Looks like you put an end to this whole crazy ordeal all by yourself.”

Karate Kid nodded, but over Cosmic Boy’s shoulder he could see Projectra turn and walk away toward the others. Yes, it felt good to know he had his friends to turn to when he needed to.

But, at the same time, he was reminded of something: of the reason he was here in the 20th century in the first place. Val Armorr had something to prove, to himself and to someone else. That was something he wasn’t about to forget just because it was the holiday season and just because the others were visiting.

If anything, this whole incident further confirmed his reason for staying in the 20th century, at least for now.