#90: Profusion and Proliferation

Introduction to Volume IV: Civilian

I graduated from Arbor State University in the spring of 1984—a year late, for reasons I’ve explained elsewhere and at the time was still trying to live down. Briefly, I attribute the delay in part to what I call my delayed freshman crisis. Being a studious student, it took me a couple years of college before I came out of my shell socially and sexually, aided by more extroverted friends and various psychoactive substances, not to mention a serendipitous, protracted hookup with Yarn Man.
        Another impediment was my discovery, in the summer of 1982, that I was a natural-born megahero, which earned me a costume and some quirky new colleagues. As Ms. Megaton Man, as I called myself, the few adventures I’d had, if you could call them that, were a distraction at best, only making my return to the dean’s list that much more challenging.

#89: Crown Heights

When they joined the Reconstituted Megatropolis Quartet, the Phantom Jungle and Rubber Brother thought they’d be doing glamorous things alongside Liquid Man, Yarn Man, and Kozmik Kat, like battling intergalactic menaces that threatened to invade earth.
        In truth, so did I.
        Instead, our alter-egos—Donna Blank, social worker, Jasper Johnson, philanthropic volunteer, and myself—had to spend all our time coordinating with the City of Megatropolis Social Services to find housing, financial assistance, and food stamps for all the civilians who had lucrative careers in the Quantum Tower in the other reality, but had found themselves completely dislocated, socially and financially, by the sudden move to this dimension.

#88: The Quantum Tower

Since my visit to the Forbidden Future, I swore off any form of transportation that was faster-than-light let alone temporal or dimensional, and decided to fly myself to New York as Ms. Megaton Man. So, one morning I suited up, with the class ring my father had bought me for graduation snugly under my yellow glove. Kozmik Kat, who could probably fly but was too chicken to try, had to settle for being uncomfortably crammed into my backpack. The digital readouts on my visor kept me out of the air lanes—it even provided me a good public domain book to read, A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom by Andrew Dickson White—and we made it in a couple of hours, although Koz clawed me once or twice when I wasn’t paying attention and we hit turbulence.

#87: Those Chosen Few

In the parking lot outside the Big Yard, I spotted my father, Clyde Phloog; although he was in his civilian form and not his default Silver Age Megaton Man stature, he still seemed a head taller than everyone in the crowd. He was dressed in a sharp business suit and was snapping away with a self-developing film camera as Stella and I approached, triumphant, in our caps and gowns, clutching the scrolled mock-sheepskins we’d received on the stage.

#86: Apocalyptic Megachallenges

Flying back and forth from Detroit to Troy had been relatively easy for me, even in winter, because it was north and south, but Detroit to Ann Arbor was a different story. Arbor State University was due west, and often I’d often run into strong westerly winds, and in frigid temperatures it was even worse. My uniform offered thermal protection for most of my body, but the V-neck on my torso went down to the bottom of my sternum, leaving the center of my chest, neck, and face exposed to the wind. In late February, with highs in the twenties and lows below zero, I would really feel it.

#85: Who Watches the Watchmen?

I’d been haranguing Avie for twenty minutes with my theory about the Multimensions, and my suspicions concerning Reverend Enoch, while she went through her workout in the basement of our apartment.

#84: Archangels and Other Responsible Grown-Ups

The weekend before finals week, all I could think about was the impromptu trip I had taken with Kozmik Kat to the Forbidden Future. Most people visit Europe after they graduate, as a present; I had accidentally visited 2184 before my graduation. It felt like I’d had desert before finishing my vegetables; graduation was going to be anticlimactic.