Previously on We’re Not in Edison City Anymore, Candystriper again lies in mortal peril in the hospital while, elsewhere on Earth, Mr. Superlative works with the wizard Vencentus the Mighty to change time! Will the Green Moth and her friends be able to stop him? Will Candystriper survive? We’ll find out, but first we return to the story of Sam Superlative Jr., stranded in another world. Or at least we will, after the usual commercial word:

Thirty Years Ago, the Planet Emi

No matter how homesick or even worldsick one might be, one does not just set off on a space journey in hopes of returning to an interdimensional rift without proper preparation. For one thing, one has to consider the roots one has already put down. His powers showed no sign of flagging, not that he’d noticed, but all the same, Sam Superlative Jr. wasn’t a kid anymore. His own son was now about as old as he’d been when he first crossed. They didn’t even know if it was possible to get back into the rift, let alone make it all the way back to Earth in one piece. The last thing Sam wanted was to be stuck in yet another dimension.

In the end, after much discussion with his own family, not to mention Murg and Weel and even the new Trar, (“Groo”, the Trar had piped helpfully), they had all decided that Sam and Samuel the Third should go, but only to explore what the rift was like now. Under no circumstance would they try going through. Everyone, including the Trar, agreed that was too great a risk.

Samuel stayed over at Murg’s that night so that his father and mother could spend the night alone together for a while (not for the last time, nobody ever said aloud). That morning, as Sam pulled on his tattered old cape and began the walk, his wife called to him from the doorway.

“Take care,” Frie said, as she always did.

“You as well,” Sam replied, as he always did. “I’ll be back soon.”

He hadn’t flown in a little while, but it was like riding a Trar (on Earth he would’ve said something else, he’d forgotten what). He remembered the skill easily and soared away, Samuel by his side.

They arrived at the little world’s single spaceport soon enough; passage to Verin Prime was expensive, but Sam had put enough back that he could afford a trip like this every so often. “We won’t be able to do this again for a while,” he observed as the ship lifted away. “Better enjoy it.”

“Mm,” Samuel the Third said thoughtfully, eying the drink selection menu. Everything his son did was thoughtful, or seemed so, Sam had observed. He hadn’t thought he’d been that way when he was young. Must’ve got it from Frie, he mused idly, watching the stars slide into whorls of light in the window as the ship went into primary burn.

They arrived at Verin Prime a few days later (technically, “standard ship-cycles according to Smiegflip Mean Time”, but Sam like most beings thought of it as days). Sam was surprised to be met at the spaceport by his old friend, Melinda Lu Flirnalirxzaney. “Doctor, ah, Prime Minister…” he said, offering the customary bow.

“None of that!” she telepathically beamed at him, laughing happily. “I remember you from when I was Primarily Field Retrieval Lead! Please, call me Melinda! Now, I’m sure you’ll want to see the rift, we’ve set up all sorts of observational equipment and we think we’ve med some progress towards stabilization, but really we won’t know until we launch the sensor-bot which is actually in half an hour so it’s really fortuitous you’ve arrived, isn’t it?”

“The what?” Sam said, even as she hurried them away from the ship and onto a waiting shuttlepod. Melinda seemed only to have sped up as she’d grown.

“Ah,” Samuel the Third said, “I read about that, this is the Perseron Mark Two sensor drone, isn’t it? Does it have xanthic field detectors?”

“It does!” Melinda said, with the glow of a scientist pleased that someone else has noticed and understood her work. “I suggested that myself, actually, or at least part of it; there’s a particular material we found that refines the sensor capacity just so as to be able to detect the xanthic fields and I really think-”

At that moment an alarm went off, then a multitude of them. The shuttlepod skidded to a full emergency stop. An officer in a pale uniform had been sitting in the front, next the shuttlepod pilot, now he swiveled around and hurried to speak quickly to Melinda in hushed tones. She turned several colors in shock.

“Oh dear,” she said at last to Sam and his son. “Apparently, something’s come through the rift. From the other side, I mean.”

“The other - from Earth?” Sam said, and his heart leapt.

“Yes, well, at least, he seems human like you,” Melinda said, and her tentacles trembled. “And he’s awfully upset. He’s already begun threatening our people. The xenocon filters haven’t quite kicked in yet so we don’t know what he wants-”

An image had just materialized on the shuttlepod viewscreen. “Wait,” Sam said slowly. “I know him.”

“Is that the Captain Marriage you talked about?” Samuel the Third said.

“No,” Sam said. “If my memory’s right the Captain wore different colors, and anyway I think he had a different-” Then he blinked. “I do know him! That’s John Cute! He was with the government, I think, back on Earth; what’s he doing here?”

“Whatever it is, he’s just attacked one of my diplomats!” Melinda interrupted.

“What?” Samuel the Third exclaimed. His father took a more direct approach; he leapt to his feet, flung open the nearest exit hatch and blasted off into the sky. Whatever trouble John Cute had brought here, he was going to stop it, right then and there.

Sam smashed down in the middle of what should’ve been a standard park with a placid interdimensional rift running through it, ordinarily protected from the public by interphase shield walls. Now the park looked like a warzone. Smashed shuttlepods and sparking robot parts lay everywhere, and small fires dotted the landscape. Above it all, a tentacled civilian held screaming in one hand, floated the enraged John Cute, swearing incomprehensibly.

“Hey!” Sam shouted, reaching back to the knowledge of English he’d had a lifetime ago. “Put her down, now!”

“Yeah? Yeah?” John Cute roared, not even registering that someone was speaking his language. “You want me to put her down! Fine!” He snapped the diplomat towards the ground like a tantruming child throws a toy doll. “Take her!”

Sam moved like lightning. He caught the civilian just in time and set her down just as he saw John descending towards him in a thunderous blur. He had microseconds to react and even though it wasn’t quite enough he started to raise his arm but then-

From the shuttlepod, Samuel the Third heard a sound like dull thunder.

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