Later, after the British authorities had taken away the spies, the heroes sat in H.G. Well’s study at his Regent’s Park home, enjoying a brandy with the famous author.
“I want to thank you chaps again,” Wells said. “You’ve done me a great service. I can never repay you.”
“It was our pleasure,” Doctor Mid-Nite said, clutching the copy of The Invisible Man that Wells had autographed for him.
“I still don’t believe the Nazis really thought cavorite was for real,” the Sandman said, shaking his head. “It sounds like a bad Republic serial.”
A while later, the heroes said their good-nights and left Wells’ home. The aging author, tired from all the excitement, prepared to go to bed. He spied the pulp magazine lying on a table in his study. Wouldn’t do to have Mrs. Kipps catch that in the house; he didn’t need another lecture about his fascination with “American piffle,” as she called it.
Taking the magazine in hand, he reached for his belt buckle. Wells’ fingers slid the cover of the buckle aside, revealing a glowing blue material. The author began to rise off the floor of the library, floating nearly to the ceiling. He deposited the magazine on top of a bookcase, next to others of its type. He then replaced the belt buckle cover and floated to the floor, and walked off to bed.