Remember WENN Characters

Betty was in the middle of explaining to Scott that he couldn’t claim that WENN was the first radio station to operate in Pittsburgh when they were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

“Will you get that?” Scott asked, turning away and standing up. He stared at his trophy bass, thinking, as Betty picked up the phone.

“Hello, Gertie,” Betty said, and paused. “From London?” she asked. Scott turned. Anything involving London had an obvious connection to Victor Comstock –

though he had been killed several months ago and Betty seemed to have recovered, he never knew what might set her off again.

“Oh, well, if Victor sent him, he must be okay,” Betty said. Of course, Scott thought.

Betty hung up the phone. “There’s a man in reception that says Victor sent him,” she said. “He’s got a story that he wants to try out on the air.”

“What?” Scott asked, suspecting a rat. “Victor sent him? When? Why hasn’t he come before now?”

“Supposedly he had trouble getting out of England because of the war, and he can only stay here for a couple of days.

He’s a professor of literature at a college in Oxford, and Gertie says he looks the part. I think we should at least see if he’s for real.”

Scott shrugged. “How do you know that he’s not just some golddigger trying to take advantage of you and this station by using Victor’s name?”

“If his story’s good, who cares?” Betty asked. “And if he really did know Victor, I don’t want to offend him.”

“Well, let him in,” Scott said. “But I want to read his story before we broadcast it.”

“So, Scott, what do you think about the Professor’s story?” Betty asked. He’d taken it home with him the night before.

“Well, it’s alright,” he said. “A little long for a radio broadcast, don’t you think?”

“Scott, you’re so professional,” Betty said, slightly mockingly. “Why the sudden interest in the artistic side of things?

I really liked the story as the professor explained it over dinner last night – and I don’t think there’s any doubt that he met Victor,

with all the stories he told about him. He had even more stories than you did, Scott.”

Scott coughed. “Well, basically, I agree – it is an interesting story. But it is a little too long.” Betty nodded in reluctant agreement.

“But, last night, I took the liberty of rewriting it a little. And I think I improved it. Here, have a look.” He tossed a script down on the desk. Betty picked it up.

“The Lord of the Radio, by… Scott, I don’t think the professor will want you to put your name on it with his own.”

“Just read it,” Scott said. “It’s great!”

“Alright…” Betty said dubiously. She turned the page.

THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RADIO

Chapter One

There is a script of such power that it will make whomever reads it on air a star. But there is a catch – once you become a star by reading the script, you will be so stuck up and intolerable that you will never be able to return to normal life. It was written at Network Headquarters as the finale to a series, the other nine parts of which were given to nine station managers, led by Chuck Crowley at WEEP. But the script was lost one day. Many years later it was found by an aspiring actress named Ruth. But the same day, her enemy Booth, later known as Hilum, took the script and locked Ruth in an elevator. Booth (Hilum) disappeared with the script, and Ruth was never seen again.

This time, the script was missing for so long that it became legend. But one day, the Radiomaster Victor the Gray was told by his friend of the Burgh, Gionetti Robbins, that Robbins had discovered something that might have been the script in a drawer in a basement underneath a city he’d visited.

Victor warned Gionetti not to use the script, but Gionetti read it and became just famous enough to have to leave the Burgh. Gionetti left the script in the hands of Betti Robbins, his intern, and went to study coffeemaking with the elves of Greensboro, led by the revered Mr. Eldrond.

Victor was not certain that the script was the finale, and left the Burgh to take council with the Chief Financier of the Radiomasters, Rollie the White. He knew that the evil station managers, led by Crowley of WEEP, were on the lookout for it, though, and told Betti to keep it safe and to meet him in Washington at a specified time, taking her lawyer and anyone else who wanted to come with her. “Do not read the script on air,” he warned her. “The station managers will hear it and come to find it – and you!”

Betti promised, knowing that the Networks would grow unbearably strong and force the Burgh’s radio station out of business if it got hold of the script. So she asked her lawyer Doug Gamgee to come with her.

“Well, Betti,” Doug said sheepishly, “actually, I already know all about the script – your cousins Foley Brandybuck and Eugenia Took told me about it. Your things are packed and we’re ready to go! I can’t wait to see elves. Or a sunrise.”

“My gosh!” Betti exclaimed. “I would have thought Foley at least would keep things to himself!” But she quickly forgave them for conspiring against her when she thought how long a journey she had in front of her, and how many rude strangers she might meet along the way.

On the road, they had a close shave – they were almost caught by Crowley and the other Radiowraiths. But they eluded him by taking the journey in a different order than he expected, and then planting a trail that lead to Philadelphia.

The next stranger they ran into was even more mysterious and dangerous-looking than the Radiowraiths, however. He wore a hood that shaded is features, and carried only a stuffed bass. He motioned to the script that Betti had left hanging out of her pocket. “I’d be more careful with that, Miss Robbins,” he said.

Betti held the script tightly. How did he know who she was? “I’m Ms. – Ms. Underwood,” she said briskly. “And you are… Mr…”

“Please, no Mister,” said the stranger. “I’m only called Mister by the council for the plaintiff.”

“I’m a lawyer,” Doug spoke up defensively, “and I don’t trust you.”

The stranger ignored Doug. “…But many people call me Scotagorn. Victor sent me here to meet you and guide you to Greensboro, where Mr. Eldrond has called a council of men, elves, and dwarves to discuss what to do with the script.”

“But Victor told me to meet him in Washington,” Betti said.

“Change of plans. Rollie the White turned out to be a traitor, captured Victor, and tried to find out who had the script, and where, and tried to get Victor to work for the Network. He thinks it’s inevitable that large corporations like the Network will force small businesses like WENN out of business. Of course Victor would have none of it. Oh, will you look at the time – we’d better go.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Doug said. “How does he know all this?”

“I have a letter from Victor himself,” Scotagorn said, taking a folded paper out of his vest pocket. Betti took it and read it, and then handed it to Foley to get his opinion. He nodded approvingly after reading it.

“Eugen?” Betti asked.

“If Foley agrees,” replied Eugen.

They set out, traveling through woods and fields, Scotagorn leading them by seldom traveled paths, his hood always covering his face, and his hand always resting on the stuffed bass in his belt.

One evening they came to a cliff that overlooked the border between Virginia and North Carolina. They climbed the hill and looked down. “Are we almost there?” Eugen asked. “I’m not complaining, but it’s hard dragging this organ everywhere, especially up the hills.” Foley patted her on the back as she stopped, panting.

“You stay here,” Scotagorn said to the four Burghfolk. “I’m going to go get us some pike – some freshwater Pennsylvania pike. Did anyone bring beans?”

“We have beans,” Doug said, still suspicious.

“Alright, Doug,” Scotagorn said. He wandered away, looking at the ground, trying to guess where the closest stream was.

Betti wandered away from the group as well, worrying about Victor’s safety. She walked down to the bottom of the hill, staring off into the sky until it grew dark. Rollie had turned traitor and attempted to brainwash Victor? How had Victor survived?

Suddenly she realized that the sky had darkened, and that she could still see! She turned back to the hill – Doug, Eugen, and Foley had lit a fire! She ran up the hill.

“Put it out!” she said. “They’ll see you!”

“They’re supposed to,” said Eugen. “If we don’t fight them here, then they’ll chase us all the way to North Carolina, and I don’t think I can run that far.”

“But we can’t fight them. We don’t have Victor with us, and even Scotagorn seems to have wandered off and isn’t here to help. We’re just ordinary Burghfolk.”

“Everybody’s ordinary until they give it that something extra. After all, you know the difference between ordinary and extraordinary – extra.”

Before Betti had a chance to reply, the four Burghfolk heard footsteps. They turned towards the noise, and saw what they had all been dreading since they left the station – five of the nine evil station managers who had been corrupted by the Network – the Radiowraiths.

The one leading the rest removed his barracuda from its holster at his side menacingly, in one smooth motion. As he stood glowering over Betti and her friends, the other Radiowraiths copied his motion one by one. For a few seconds, they stood together like a set of five tall black statues, the firelight reflecting off their barracudas. Then they attacked.

The Burghfolk had never been in a fish-fight before, and so gave way without much resistance. Soon Crowley, the leader, stood right in front of Betti, and he struck – the tip of his barracuda brushed her chin.

She snorted, shrinking away from the blow. “That tickles!” she giggled, brushing her chin with her hand.

Crowley tried to grab the script while Betti giggled, but suddenly Scotagorn was there, brandishing his stuffed bass! Whack! Whack! Whack! He beat the Radiowraiths back to the edge of the hill, away from the still-giggling Betti, his bass flashing in the moonlight. As he was about to send them rolling backwards down the hill, they turned, holstered their barracudas, and ran.

Scottagorn turned back to the Burghfolk. “Wow,” Eugen said admiringly. “You sure gave them what for.” Foley nodded enthusiastically.

Scotagorn grinned. “Well, they were tough… but not tough enough,” he said. “But next time, remember your organ. You’re not bringing it for nothing, you know. Having organ music to fight to would really help… not to mention sound effects,” he added, looking at Foley.

“Oh, gosh, Scotagorn,” said Eugen, “I’m sorry. I forgot all about it, in the excitement.”

“What about Betti?” asked Doug. “She hasn’t stopped giggling since that guy’s barracuda brushed her chin.”

“Oh, no, just as I thought,” Scott said. “The tickle of the Un-Live.”

“The tickle of the Un-Live?” Eugen asked. “What’s that?”

Scotagorn sighed. “The Radiowraiths are the Un-Live – they’re neither on nor off the air,” he explained. “Whatever signal they do transmit is transmitted through their barracudas, and it tickles – kind of like static. And the tickle never really goes away. Don’t ask me to explain it any more than that. The point is, she’ll be giggling nonstop until we give her some elven coffee – we’ve got to get her to Greensboro, pronto!”

They packed their bags and kept on, walking in the dark and in the daylight, until they were all nearly giddy with sleep deprivation; Betti’s incessant giggling was all that kept them awake. Finally, though, when they reached the river near Greensboro, they simply had to stop. Scotagorn set his alarm clock at eleven pm, though it was nearly eight in the morning, and took Betti aside.

“We can’t make it without a little sleep,” he told her. “You’ve got your giggling to keep yourself awake – you’ve got to get yourself through to the finish line. We’ll catch up to you at Greensboro.”

“Alright,” Betti giggled, stepping dizzily into the shallow water.

When she was almost across, the Radiowraiths appeared on the side she had started from.

“Give us the script!” Crowley called. “I want it for my station. You can get a new script for your own station.”

“No!” Betty laughed. “I would have given it to you earlier if I was just going to hand it over!” The Wraiths made a move to follow her across the river. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Betti warned between giggles. “You’re broadcasting, sort of. Electricity and water don’t mix.”

The Radiowraiths ignored her. As they stepped into the water, sparks flew, causing them to do a very silly dance and run screeching into the forest. Betti laughed so hard that she fell over, and kept laughing until she fainted.

Chapter Two

Betti awoke slowly, and then suddenly realized that she was lying on a couch in a very comfortable and stylish study, and her friend Victor the Gray was there, half-sitting on a desk flipping through a book! His familiar old pointed hat and pikestaff were lying on the desk behind him. Betti sat up quickly.

“Victor! I must have been asleep!”

Victor looked up from the book and smiled. “Mr. Eldrond gave you some decaffeinated coffee to stop the giggling – it must have put you asleep.” He put the book down and stood up. “You did an excellent job getting the script this far – I knew I could count on you.”

“I would have felt so much better if you had been with us,” Betti said. “But how are you? What did Rollie do to you?”

“Well, he… it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that all of you made it safely.”

“Yes, and thank you for sending Scotagorn; he really was a big help.”

“Scotagorn? Who is Scotagorn?” Victor asked, looking puzzled.

“Scotagorn. The man you sent to help us get here,” Betti said. “You know, with the stuffed bass, and the hood?”

“Oh!” Victor said. “I though he told me his name was Shermagorn.” Betti shook her head. “Hm, well, we have to get to the council meeting,” Victor said. “Everyone else is here, and they are waiting for you.”

At the council meeting, Betti was faced with a roomful of strangers, who all greeted her very differently. Victor introduced them all as he led her past them to her seat. There was a tall elf with long, dark brown hair, that carried a fantastically-wrought set of bow and eels. His name was Jeffolas Singerleaf, and he invited her to lunch as soon as he met her. (She thought he was a little bit forward). Then there was a short, bald dwarf with spectacles and a bushy red beard. He was broadcasting the news for his people as they met, and so just waved to her as she walked past. Victor said his name was Mackli son of Bloom, Dwarf of a Thousand Voices, and he had with him a tough-looking mackerel axe. Betti also met a woman named Celiamir daughter of Mellethor of Long Island, New York, of the Agitato Public Library (whose motto was ‘Stay Awake and Read!’). Celiamir gave Betti a quick smile and a peppy ‘hi-hi!’ as Victor hurried her past.

The only people there that Betti knew were Scotagorn and her old mentor Gionetti Robbins. Each of the strangers had a contingent of their own kind; Betti was glad that she was seated safely next to Victor.

Mr. Eldrond entered and called the meeting to order.

“What does he do?” Betti whispered to Victor.

“No one quite knows,” Victor replied. “But he makes a great pot of coffee.”

Mr. Eldrond shifted around in his robes uncomfortably. “I don’t know why they make me wear these things,” he said. “Now, I have something to read to you.” He held a paper in front of himself and peered at it through his spectacles. “Dearly beloved,” he read slowly, and with entirely the wrong emphasis, “we are gathered here together in this company today to join together this man and this woman in…”

Victor coughed. “Um, Mr. Eldrond, I think that’s the, um, wrong page. Nobody’s getting married in this story, except for maybe some minor characters, later.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Eldrond. “What happened to the other page?”

Once the correct page was found, the council continued with only minor delays. Betti heard how, long ago, Seldon Sauron wrote the one script and tried to use it to gain political power. He was defeated by a warrior lady, Agatha daughter of Sherwood, the founding leader of the FCC. But she took the script for herself, and tried to use it to make the FCC more powerful (before it was lost). Betti also heard that Hilum, the Burgh person from long ago that had found the script, had been to Broadway where Seldon Sauron’s Network Headquarters was, and had been the one to tell Seldon Sauron, the lord of the Radiowraiths, where to find it. Jeffolas also reported that Hilum had been spotted following his group of elves to Greensboro, and that she was therefore probably somewhere near.

The council decided to do two things. First, all the copies of the script had to be destroyed, which meant going to Network Headquarters to make sure there were no carbons. Second, the Network staff, who Victor suspected of having Nazi allegiances, because of what Rollie had said, had to be defeated. They decided to focus on the first task first.

There was a lot of argument about who would take it. Celiamir wanted it for her own station. Neither Jeffolas nor Mackli trusted Celiamir. Gionetti offered to take it, but people thought he’d just lose it. Finally Betti knew what she had to do.

“Alright, I’ll take it,” she said.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” said Mr. Eldrond. “Now we can send you off and be done with it. Who wants to go too? Betti shouldn’t go alone. There should be nine.”

“Why nine?” Scotagorn asked what everybody was thinking.

“Because, that’s how many people we don’t have rooms for. What do you people think this place is, anyway, a hotel?”

“I will go with you, Betti,” Victor said.

“And I’ll fight for you, with my tuna,” said Celiamir. Betti was starting to like her already.

“You will have my eels,” said Jeffolas.

“And my mackerel,” said Mackli, challenging Jeffolas.

“I’m going too,” said Scotagorn. “I’m going to see this through, or my name isn’t Scotagorn Sh— Scotagorn. Very exciting!”

“Who else?” asked Mr. Eldrond.

“Well, Doug will want to go,” said Betti. Scotagorn rolled his eyes. “And my cousins, Foley and Eugen, they’ll want to go.”

“They aren’t warriors – they don’t even carry fish,” said Mr. Eldrond.

“They are her friends, and should be allowed to go, if they want to,” Victor said.

“Alright, Victor, if you say so,” agreed Mr. Eldrond.

It was set. They left very soon, leaving just enough time for Betti to say goodbye to Gionetti, and for him to give her his treasure – a small perch the he said would glow blue in the presence of Nazis.

Mr. Eldrond had suggested that they choose a way to go that the enemy wouldn’t expect. Since Victor would needed to go to England by the government anyway, they crossed the Atlantic and walked through northern Africa. In going across Europe, they tried a route through the Alps, but, since it was almost Christmas, they were very nearly snowed in. The way was completely blocked, and they had to find another route. Unfortunately, there was only one choice left to them.

“Not the French Underground!” the Burghfolk exclaimed when they found out where Victor and Scotagorn were planning to lead them. But it was the only way.

They had trouble getting in, until Foley suggested that Victor tell everyone that they were friends. Fortunately, that was the one word of French that Victor knew, and he led them into the underground, saying, “Voz amis. Voz amis!”

Mackli was the only one comfortable during this part of the journey, because he had family that was part of the underground. But when the group drew near the part of the underground where his relatives had lived, they noticed that they were meeting fewer and fewer people, until it had become deserted, except for themselves. Mackli found his relatives’ house, and ran inside, leaving the other eight in the street.

He returned a few moments later with an old leatherbound journal. “Look at the last page,” he said with wide eyes, holding it open so everyone could see. “I don’t like it at all.”

It read, “NAZIS. Must leave…” and the writing trailed off.

Victor and Scotagorn conferred. “There’s no safe place nearby,” Victor said, “but we can’t go on and on without rest.”

“I know, we already tried that,” Scotagorn said. “Let’s take turns sitting up.”

This was done; Eugen went first, but Victor soon relieved her, because he couldn’t sleep anyway. It was during Victor’s watch that he noticed the sounds outside. When he woke her (much earlier than their set wake-up time), Betti noticed that her perch was glowing a luminescent blue. She began to explain about the fish, but Victor interrupted her.

“I know about that fish. It’s famous, so much so that the elves gave it a name. It’s very valuable, and I’m glad that Gionetti gave it to you.”

“What is its name?” Betti asked.

“Ouch,” Victor told her.

“Oh,” Betti said. “That’s kind of strange.” Victor shrugged.

Everyone drew their fish and waited in the shadows for the Nazis to attack. But the attack didn’t come. Victor was worried, and left his place to sneak a look outside the heavily curtained window. What he saw brought no comfort. He motioned for Scotagorn.

“Sher – ”

“Not that name, not now,” Scotagorn interrupted.

“Sorry,” Victor said. “Look – they’re coming, but they haven’t got around to the other side of the house yet. You have to take these people to safety – go to the elves in Lothlorien – it’s in Canada – and seek help from Gertrudriel. Tell her Victor the Gray sent you.”

“And what about you?” Scotagorn asked.

“I’m going to lead them away from you, so you can get through France undetected.”

“You’re abandoning us?”

“I’m saving your hides! I’ll meet up with you later, if I can, on the northern shore of Lake Erie. Go!”

“Victor, I…” Scotagorn began.

“Scotagorn, you can lead them.”

“I don’t know…”

Victor took Scotagorn by the shoulder. “I’m counting on you,” he said. “I care about these people very much. You have to take care of them. Go!”

“How do I get them to leave?” Scotagorn asked. “They won’t want to leave you.”

“Tell them the room is full of odorless gas,” Victor said.

“Odorless gas?”

“Any better ideas?” Victor asked. Scotagorn shrugged, and went to speak to the others.

As he was hustling them out of the house, the first Nazi poked the nose of his viperfish through the window. When the Nazi crawled in, Victor tackled him, alerting the Nazis outside to their prescence. Betti was the last to leave, and saw the Nazis pouring in through the window, surrounding and attacking Victor, who was hopelessly outnumbered, even despite his prowess with the pikestaff he carried. Scott pulled Betti out of the doorway into the street.

“Scotagorn, he’ll be killed!” Betti pleaded.

Scotagorn nodded grimly, and took his bass out of his belt. Celiamir joined him, drawing her tuna. They stepped back into the house, still unheeded by anyone but Victor.

He saw them through the crowd of Nazis around him. “Fly, you fools!” he shouted as the Nazis overcame him and pulled him away through the window.

Scotagorn finally got the group to move, and led them through France to England, where they caught a steamer to Toronto. Eventually they reached Lothlorien, home of Gertrudriel and the group of elves that she led.

Scouts caught them on the edges of the country and brought them before her. She was a radiant lady, dressed in a long white gown, her only ornament a sparkling black telephone receiver hanging around her neck.

“I’ve had a call, from my friend Tom Eldrond,” she said. “He told me to expect you. But he said there would be nine – he was specific about that point. I have gifts here for nine. Where is Victor the Gray?”

“He was killed by Nazis in France,” Scotagorn said. “But we sure would appreciate the gifts.”

She had gifts for all of them. She gave them three rowboats in which to cross Lake Erie, and everyone was given a warm coat and a big bag of peanut brittle. Scotagorn, Betti, and Doug received special gifts as well. Gertrudriel had her people take his bass and stuff it inside of the floppy swordfish from which it had come; then the swordfish was re-stuffed and given back to Scotagorn.

“This is the fish of the house of…”

“Sherwood, I know,” Scotagorn said. “The fish with which Agatha daughter of Sherwood defeated Seldon Sauron, many years ago.”

“Yes,” Gertrudriel replied. “It is given to you. Don’t lose it.”

She also gave him a rusty piece of tin, telling him to wash it in the water surrounding the stronghold of Medethor and Mellethor on Long Island. Betti received a flashlight, and Doug was given a broom and a box of matches. They were both puzzled by their gifts.

“You will know when to use them,” Gertrudriel said. “At least, I hope you can figure it out.”

Leaving Lothlorien, they rowed their boats across Lake Erie and came to the American side of the lake near Rochester. Betti was getting more and more worried about what she had to do. She didn’t want to ruin the lives of any more of her friends, and was trying to think of how to get them to go back to the Burgh and to safety.

Celiamir was easy to get rid of. One night she approached Betti.

“Betti,” she said, “can I ask you something?”

“No, Celiamir, you can’t have the script. Victor told us not to use it.”

“That’s not what I wanted to ask. A producer called while we were in Lothlorien – Gertrudriel took the message. This producer wants to put me in a movie, Betti! And, well, I wanted to go, but, after Victor died, I wanted to stay and keep you company.”

“Oh, no, enough people’s live have already been ruined,” Betti said. “Go on, please.”

“Thanks, Betti,” Celiamir said. “By the way, would you not tell everyone where I went? They’ll think I was afraid.”

“Don’t worry, Celiamir,” Betti grinned. “I know how to keep a secret.”

Celiamir hugged Betti, and after they said goodbye, Celiamir stole away.

Betti came back to the beach where they had landed and found that everyone had gone, looking for her. Here’s my chance, Betti thought. She took a bag of peanut brittle and her flashlight, and began to steal away. But Doug showed up just as she was about to disappear into the forest.

“Betti, where are you going?” he called.

“To New York, Doug, and I want to go alone. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“You can’t go alone, Betti,” he said. She didn’t say anything. “Come on,” Doug said, “let me carry that pack for you at least. We’ll go together.”

“Thanks, Doug,” Betti said, smiling weakly. He took the pack from her, and they started off together.

THE TWO PLOTS

Chapter One

Scotagorn, Jeffolas, and Mackli met up back on the beach a few moments later.

“Betti?” Scotagorn called in one last attempt to find her. “Be-ttibettibettibettibettibetti?”

“She’s nowhere to be found. I knew we shouldn’t have left her alone,” Jeffolas lamented.

“And where’s Doug?” Mackli wondered gruffly.

“Maybe he went with her,” Jeffolas suggested.

“And look what I found,” Mackli added, revealing Celiamir’s family heirloom, a conch shell horn, as well as the tuna they all recognized.

“She left her horn and her tuna?” Scotagorn wondered. “Has she given up?”

“This can only mean one thing,” Mackli said.

“What, she… went to have her hair done?” Jeffolas asked.

“No, she went to Hollywood,” Scotagorn supplied.

Jeffolas shrugged. “Hm, well, Hollywood could use some fresh blood.”

“But we’ll miss her,” Scotagorn said.

“Well, uh, let’s write a poem about her,” said Jeffolas.

“That’s a good idea,” said Scotagorn. He closed his eyes and recited,

“Roses are red, violets blue

Sugar is sweet; Celiamir, we’ll miss you.”

“Are you finished?” Mackli asked. While he was still speaking, a hagfish arrow thwacked into the sand at his feet.

“A hagfish!” Scotagorn cried. “Nazis! Rollie’s men, if I’m not mistaken! Seldon Sauron’s men use green ones, not white.”

“Where are Foley and Eugen?” Jeffolas cried.

“Still in the woods, looking for Betti!” Mackli said. “Come on!”

After a search, Scotagorn, Jeffolas and Mackli met on the beach once again. Scotagorn was torn; he didn’t know whether to go after Betti, or after her two cousins.

“Man, I sure let Victor down,” Scotagorn said. He sighed. “Well, Betti – and probably Doug – headed for New York, of course, but I have no idea exactly where they are. Foley and Eugen were certainly taken by the Nazis, and we know exactly where they went – we can follow them. We’d better rescue Foley and Eugen. The Nazis won’t be very nice to them.”

For three days the man, the elf, and the dwarf followed the band of Nazis. On the third day they caught up with a huge group of people, but they weren’t the Nazis. They were a group of employees of Mr. Ingram of Ingram’s Coffee, disgruntled by recent changes in the company’s policies, so they wandered around the eastern US capturing Nazi sympathizers. They were led by Mr. Ingram’s niece, Mapowyn, who knew Scotagorn already.

“Well, Scottie!” she exclaimed when she saw who it was that her people had surrounded. “Why are you here? What about your job out west?”

“We had creative differences,” Scotagorn said. “I wanted to be creative and different, and they didn’t want that. So now I’m fighting Nazis.”

“So am I!” Mapowyn said. “In fact, me and my gang here just beat up a whole bunch of them,” she said, waving her manta ray over her head with a whoop as the whole crowd cheered. “We left a whole pile of them, back a-ways, unconscious and tied up. We sure showed them!”

“A pile?” Jeffolas asked. “What about Eugen and Foley?”

“Hey, Mapes,” Scotagorn asked, “you didn’t see any Burgh-folk in that bunch of Nazi traitors, did you?”

“What are Burgh-folk?” Mapowyn asked.

“Well, they look like people,” Scotagorn said, “well, they are people – except the ones we’re looking for are kinda, well, innocent-looking, I guess. They would have an organ and a sound effects kit between them.”

“No, I didn’t see any organs. But we burned all the weapons. Sorry, Scottie. It sure was one heck of a clambake, though!”

“You fight with clams?”

“A slingshot and some clams – they work great.”

Scotagorn sighed. “I guess we’ll just have to keep looking.”

The grous went their separate ways.

Eugen and Foley had been kidnapped by Rollie’s Nazi henchmen, and they carried them a long way, so far that the Burgh-folk were worried that Scotagorn wouldn’t be able to find them. But then one night, when the Nazis had stopped to rest, the whole group was attacked by another group, unknown to either Foley or Eugen. They took the opportunity to slip away into the nearby woods, unnoticed either by their captors or the unknown attackers.

Soon, though, they ran into a British fellow pretending to be a tree. He told them that his name was Desmond Ent, and that he was the leader of the whole American-based British secret service who were out to catch Nazi saboteurs. All of these secret-service people were also standing at different places in the woods, disguised as trees. Desmond Ent decided to take them to a secret agent meeting; he thought Eugen and Foley (especially Eugen) were spies and he wanted to trick them into giving themselves away. But Foley and Eugen thought they could convince him to help them fight Rollie, the real Nazi sympathizer. Fortunately, the place where the meeting was held was near Eisengaard, PA, where Rollie lived and based his operations.

When all the British tree-spies saw how innocent the Burgh-folk looked, and heard Eugen’s speech about how they ought to be after real spies, not innocent patriots, they decided to attack Rollie’s Eisengaard fortress and tie him up. They marched immediately, and Eugen and Foley tagged along. They had no way of even attempting to find their friends, but they thought that, if Rollie was defeated, and if Betti was still alive, it would make Betti’s job a little bit easier. The march was slow, though; all the spies were wearing tree trunks, and so they couldn’t take very big steps.

Scotagorn, Jeffolas and Mackli found the place where Mapowyn had defeated the Nazis. They were very sad for their friends, until they noticed a trail of peanut brittle crumbs leading towards the woods. Scotagorn picked some up and tasted it.

“This is genuine Lothlorien peanut brittle!” he exclaimed. “The peanuts predominate!”

Excited now, they marched into the woods.

“I’ve heard that this forest is haunted,” Jeffolas commented as they walked.

“Haunted?!” Mackli exclaimed, gripping the handle of his mackerel more tightly.

“Mackli, don’t get worked up. It’s just a rumor,” Jeffolas scoffed.

“What d’ya mean, don’t get worked up? I believe in all that stuff! Plus, I hate trees! I like cities. I wish we were still in France!”

Scotagorn chuckled. “I heard that, not only do some of the trees move, but people say that the evil Radiomaster walks this forest, dressed in long white robes, and if you meet him, you’ll never broadcast again!”

Mackli’s eyes were as big as baseballs. Scotagorn winked at Jeffolas. But Jeffolas wasn’t looking at him.

“A man dressed in white?” Jeffolas asked. “Like that man dressed in white?” He pointed ahead.

Scotagorn whipped around. “The evil Radiomaster!” he cried.

The man pointed at them with his white pikestaff. “What the heck are you people doing?” he asked them menacingly.

They all froze. “Quick, we need to throw water on him,” Jeffolas whispered. Scotagorn nodded and surreptitiously passed Jeffolas his canteen. The man in white was giving an impromptu lecture on patriotism. Jeffolas threw the water and caught him right in the face.

He spluttered, and wiped off his face. “And that was intended to, um, melt me?” he asked. “In the tradition of, say, the Wicked Witch of the West?”

“Well, you’re a Radiomaster,” Scotagorn explained. “You know – radio, water, don’t mix – wait. You’re….. Victor?”

“Yes,” Victor said, as if he was discovering something, or remembering it, “I was called ‘Victor’ once – I’ve had amnesia. They tried to kill me, but I escaped. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing. You’ve reminded me. Where is Betti? Where are Doug and Foley and Eugen? Where is Celiamir?”

“Well,” Scotagorn said, “we’re pretty sure that Celiamir went to Hollywood to become a movie star.”

They explained everything that had happened, and between them, Victor (now Victor the White, replacing the traitorous Rollie) and Scotagorn decided to ride to Mr. Ingram, to get him to help them take on Rollie and Seldon Sauron.

“If he doesn’t have the script already,” Victor said. “I really wish Betti hadn’t gone off alone.”

“Or with Doug,” Scotagorn added under his breath.

The four of them rode to Washington where Mr. Ingram’s Ingram’s Coffee was located. With some delays, they were allowed to see the businessman, but he hardly spoke to them himself. His secretary, Miss Gravetongue, spoke for him, telling Victor and his companions that Mr. Ingram had no strength left with which to fight either the Network or Seldon Sauron.

“Yeah, right,” muttered CJ’omer, Mr. Ingram’s nephew, as he bustled about the room in the background.

Victor thought something was up. He managed to switch the cup of coffee he had been given with Mr. Ingram’s, and he sniffed it.

“Hah!” he cried. “I knew there was something wrong here! You’ve laced this coffee with Valerian – an herbal sedative! No wonder he has no strength! Miss Gravetongue, I think you’ve been drugging your boss and then running this business just as Rollie the traitor would have you.”

“Right into the ground,” muttered Mackli.

“Oh, no… I…. I….” stammered Miss Gravetongue. Then she started for the door, but Victor beat her to it and blocked her way.

“You have been working for Rollie, haven’t you?” he asked. “You’ve been making decisions that benefit the Network because Rollie’s been telling you to, haven’t you?” Miss Gravetongue cowered before Victor.

CJ’omer had gone to Mr. Ingram’s side. “Get out,” he said. “Leave my uncle alone.” Miss Gravetongue slinked out of the room, and an escort was told to make sure that she left without stealing any pens.

Mr. Ingram came to himself. “Well, Victor the Gray,” he said. “And CJ’omer. Where’s Mapowyn?”

“Gravetongue ran this business so badly that Mapowyn objected, and Gravetongue kicked her out. I would have gone too, but I didn’t want to leave you alone in Gravetongue’s hands.”

“Good for you, CJ’omer,” Scotagorn said.

“Mr. Ingram,” Victor said, “Gravetongue will go right to Rollie. He’ll bring his Nazis here faster than you can say ‘Captain Amazon’. We’ll have to fight Seldon Sauron eventually, but first you will need to defend your business.”

“Let’s move to the cellar,” Mr. Ingram said. “It’s deep. Victor, if you and Scotagorn will round up my associates, CJ’omer will take all the secretaries and cleaning ladies across the street where they’ll be safe. I think there are a couple of crates of trout in Cellar’s Deep. You can hand them out to my men.”

“Uncle, I can fight with you,” CJ’omer said.

“I know you can, but I need someone trustworthy to look out for the secretaries,” Mr. Ingram replied.

“Scotagorn, have Jeffolas and Mackli help you, alright?” Victor asked. “I’m going to go get us some more people to help.”

Scotagorn and the others defended the cellar bravely; the first wave of Nazis was knocked unconscious by the Ingram trout. Wave after wave of Nazis, viperfish in hand and hagfish on string, threatened to defeat them, though, until Victor returned with Mapowyn and her gang. With these additional people, they were able to turn the battle around and ‘clean the Nazis’ clocks’, as Mapowyn put it.

“Quickly, tie them up!” Victor commanded at the end of the battle. “We have to hurry to Rollie’s fortress and defeat him before he can escape and join Seldon Sauron at his stronghold on Broadway!

As they made their way to Eisengaard, Jefolas and Mackli spoke about the battle. Each had performed well and they were beginning to trust each other.

They traveled to Rollie’s estate expecting to have to attack it, but when they arrived they found it in ruins. They were also surprised that the first people they met were their old traveling companions! Foley and Eugen were waiting for them on the outskirts of the demolished estate, passing the time by making up a radio program in which Foley complimented Eugen’s organ playing with sound effects. They were doing a rendition of Swan Lake when the others found them.

Foley and Eugen stopped when they noticed everyone. Foley’s eyes were wide, and he found he couldn’t say anything, but just kept staring at Victor.

“Victor!” Eugen said happily. “My, you look nice in those new robes. Look at this lovely Burgh sound effects equipment that Rollie had lying around!”

Victor and Scotagorn looked at each other. “Five,” Scotagorn began to count, “four, three, two, one.” Eugen looked up again with a startled look on her face. Suddenly she started up and ran to Victor, hugging him around the waist and crying, “Victor! Oh, Victor, you’re alive!”

Victor shrugged. “That could have been worse,” he said to Scotagorn. “But, Eugen,” he said, disentangling himself from her embrace, “did you say that Rollie has Burgh sound effects equipment here?”

“Well, yes, Victor,” Eugen replied.

“Hmm,” said Victor. “Well, I guess we’d better go talk to him.”

They did, and Rollie would tell them nothing (though he did attempt to buy them off with thirty dollars and let him go free, but no one listened to him). As they turned to leave him on the balcony of his house, prisoner of Desmond Ent and his agents, Rollie was so enraged that he threw the first thing he could lay hands on at Victor’s retreating back. Victor would have missed it entirely, but Eugen picked it up. It was a black marble telephone. She was about to hold the receiver to her ear when Victor took it.

“I’ll take that, Eugen,” he said, and hid it somewhere in his robes.

They decided to return to Washington and gather more sponsors for an attack on Seldon Sauron and the Network. It was late, though, and they had to camp out on the way.

Eugen couldn’t sleep. Victor had set the telephone beside him when he lay down, and was now sound asleep. Despite Foley’s warning against it, she sneaked over to Victor, took the telephone, and went a little way from the group. She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. The sounds she heard were terrifying.

“This is Seldon Sauron,” said the voice in the receiver. “I’m number one around here. Who are you? Where are you? Where is my script? I need it for the big broadcast, happening in exactly 35,349 minutes and 7 point 05 seconds.”

Victor snatched the receiver from her and slammed it down. “Eugenia Took!” he shouted.

“I’m sorry, Victor!” she cried. “It was the bad guy! I didn’t know it would be the bad guy!”

Victor sighed. “It’s alright,” he said softly. “What, exactly, did he say? Did you tell him anything?”

Eugen shook her head. “I didn’t have a chance to get a word in edgewise,” she said. She repeated everything Seldon Sauron had said.

“It’s a code!” Scotagorn said. “Very exciting! Just gimme a minute.”

When he had it worked out, the message read, “the dead white radio will be scrapped.” Everyone thought it was gibberish, except for Victor and Scotagorn, who understood it completely.

“You go on with the others,” Victor told Scotagorn. “I’m going right to Long Island to warn Medethor and Mellethor. And I’m taking Eugen with me.” Scotagorn nodded. Then Victor did something that surprised everyone – he took Scotagorn’s hands and placed the telephone in them. Then he bowed to Scotagorn, and said, “Take this, your highness, as a promise of things to come.” Then he took Eugen gently by the arm and stole away into the night.

Chapter Two

Meanwhile, Betti Robbins of the Burgh and her lawyer Doug were wandering around upstate New York.

Doug looked around. “I think we’ve been here before,” he said. “Doesn’t this place look familiar?”

“Oh, Doug, we have been here before,” Betti moaned. “We’re wandering in circles! I wish
Victor was here to guide us.” She sat down dejectedly on a log.

“I wish Gertrudriel had given us a compass,” said Doug, sitting beside her. “But look on the bright side. If we’re lost, and we have the script with us, the script is lost too, and that means Seldon Sauron won’t be able to use it to force all the independent radio stations like ours out of business.”

“Unless those nasty fellows with the barracudas catch us,” Betti added.

“You’re right,” Doug said. “We’d better keep going.”

As he began to help Betti up, though, he was suddenly tripped and shoved aside. Betti was confronted by a tall, meticulously dressed, red-headed actress.

“You have my script,” she said. “I’ll take it now.”

“Who are you?” Doug asked, still on the ground.

The actress’s eyes blazed. “I’m Hilum Booth, of course.”

Betti stood up. “The Hilum Booth?” she asked. “But you’ve been on Broadway! And you starred in ‘The Rivals’!”

“ ‘The Rivals’?” Hilum laughed. “Oh, that old thing.” She turned to Doug. “You see, I am very well known among those who know who I am.”

“So you’re Hilum?” Doug commented. “And you’ve been to Broadway.”

“So you’re Hilum?” Hilum mimicked, rolling her eyes. “Are all Burghfolk as pathetic as your little friend?” she asked Betti. “Now give me my script.”

“It’s not your script,” Betti said. “Mr. Eldrond told me to take it to Broadway.”

“It is my script. I need it to become famous again – it is my Pumpkin!” She tried to snatch it.

“Now look here,” said Doug. “Hilum, you can’t use the script in the wilderness, can you?” He winked at Betti.

Hilum laughed self-consciously. “Well, no,” she said. “I wanted to take it to Broadway. Hilum Booth returns in Hilum Booth’s “Script of Power” starring Hilum Booth!”

Betti caught on to what Doug was trying to do. “But were you going to carry the script all the way to Broadway yourself?”

“Oh,” Hilum said. “I hadn’t really thought about how I was going to get it there.”

“Why don’t you let Betti carry it,” Doug suggested, “and you can show us how to get to Broadway?”

Hilum agreed to this arrangement without too much complaint, and they set off immediately.

She led them past the Finger Lakes. To play a trick on Betti, Hilum told her that they were called the Finger Lakes because all the dead leaders of the FCC were cast into the lakes, and that if you went wading in the lake you could feel their fingers reaching up to grab you. Betti was scared by the idea. Once she even fell in when she was standing on the shore peering into the water to see if she could see the fingers. She thrashed around screaming in fear, but then she realized that all she felt were weeds, and she climbed out, dripping and just a little bit angry.

Hilum laughed at her so hard that she almost choked.

“Hilum – hilum!” she coughed.

“I think they’re called the Finger Lakes because of the way they’re shaped, Betti,” was all Doug said.

Once past the Finger Lakes, they continued their journey to the southeast. One day, they stopped for lunch at noon, and Doug realized that their elven peanut brittle was almost gone, so he interrupted Hilum’s mutterings about her ‘Pumpkin’ and sent her into the nearest town for a box of spaghetti. While he was waiting for her to return, he went and sat near Betti, who was staring off into space.

“Thinking about Victor?” he asked. Betti nodded silently.

Suddenly they heard the noises of many machines driving by, and they scrambled over to the edge of the hill they were camped on to see what it was. It was a whole army of farmers riding tractors to war! But soon the air was full of eels, and all of the farmers were knocked unconscious.

“I wonder where those farmers were going?” Doug wondered aloud.

“I wonder whose eels those were?” Betti added.

They got up and turned around, and ran smack into a small band of archers. The leader was a small young woman. On her removing her hood, they saw that she had blond, permed hair, and wore glasses.

“This is a most auspicious moment for our meeting,” said the girl, “since I have the answers to both your quandaries. However, I cannot in good faith settle your questions until I have the reply to the query I have been pondering: who are you?”

“My name is Betti Robbins, and this is Doug Gamgee,” Betti replied.

“And why do you wander alone through the vast realm of New York?”

“Well, we’re going…” began Doug, but Betti cut him off.

“If you don’t mind, we’re strangers… we’d rather not tell complete strangers our task.”

“Your reluctance to converse openly suggests that you are perpetrating an unpatriotic act,” said the girl. “I am forced to detain you.” She made signs to her people, and they arrested Betti and Doug. Later they ran into Hilum, who was also detained.

Betti eventually decided that the stranger had to be told some things, so she mentioned the names of Mr. Eldrond, Gertrudriel, and Victor the Gray. This did wonders. The girl let them loose immediately, explaining that she was Enid-Faramir of the Agitato Public Library, New York, sister of Celiamir! She knew most of the details about their task, and tried to help them as much as she could – she gave them food and directions.

“You know,” Enid-Faramir told them in parting, “once I thought that the script you carry would be a marvelous acquisition for my kingdom. But then I decided to write my own – it’s about the downfall of our dastardly enemy Mr. Sauron. Would you care for a glance at it?” She handed Betti a script.

Betti opened it and began reading in the middle of a page. “ ‘I just hope Saruman can stop Sauron from spoiling Saruman’s plan to take over Sauron’s country’,” she read.

“Well,” Betti began, “I can’t help noticing that two of your main characters have very similar names.”

“Oh, yes,” Enid-Faramir agreed reluctantly. “In the auditory sense it is confusing.”

“Well, keep trying,” said Betti.

“Of course,” said Enid-Faramir. “And I wish you safety and success. But whatever you do, don’t go into any air ducts!”

The rest of the way to Broadway was fairly uneventful, and not much happened to delay them or to turn them out of the way. The only thing of interest occurred near West Point. They passed a statue of what Hilum said was one of the old kings of the FCC. Its head had fallen off, but a crown of white flowers had grown around the head.

“There’s a prophecy that goes with this statue,” Hilum explained, in a very flat and functional way. “The FCC has been leaderless since Seldon Sauron took over the Network. But there is a poem that tells of the comeback – the renaissance – the reprise – of the line of leaders.

“Oh, will you look at the time; it’s exciting – very exciting

A man with a swordfish will come, to be the FCC’s king

With seven phones and seven stars, and a radio white as the bird of the sea

“It hasn’t been fulfilled yet; some wonder if it ever will,” she concluded.

Betti looked at the head of the statue, buried up to the chin in dirt and moss. “You know,” she remarked to Doug, “that face looks a lot like Scotagorn.”

“Oh, yeah,” Doug said. They kept walking.

When they reached Broadway and found the right theater (the one in which Seldon Sauron concealed his headquarters), Betti paused.

“I think this is where I go on alone,” she said.

“Betti,” Doug began, but Hilum interrupted him.

“You don’t seriously think you can just walk up and ring the doorbell? They’ll take the script from you.”

“Well, then what do we do?” Betti asked. “I don’t know how else to get in.”

“Follow me,” said Hilum. “I know Broadway theaters. There should be a ‘cirith ungol’ around back.”

“A ‘cirith ungol’?” Betti asked.

“That’s elvish for ‘fire escape’,” Hilum said. “It should lead us to the air ducts – we can get in through there.”

“Betti,” Doug said, pulling her aside, “Enid-Faramir said not to go into any air ducts!”

“This is the only way,” Hilum said.

“I have to agree with Hilum, Doug,” Betti said. “I don’t know how else to get in.”

They all managed to crawl into the air duct system. It was very clogged with lint, which made them all sneeze. Early on, Hilum took a wrong turn and was separated from the other two. Then they ran into a terrible monster, Pavlob!

“Heh-heh-heh,” she cackled in a heavy Ukrainian accent. “I am Pavlob. I wait in the air ducts for Americans. I will steal your social security number and use it to get work. Then I will be the famous actress, and marry an elf.”

“So that’s why Enid-Faramir said not to climb into air ducts!” exclaimed Betti.

“Quick – Betti!” called Doug from behind. “Your flashlight! Shine it in her eyes!”

“Oh, good thinking, Doug!” exclaimed Betti. She got it out and switched it on, blinding Pavlob, who scurried backwards deeper into her lair.

They followed, but were separated when they each fell down separate vent shafts. Doug was trapped in a vent with a grating, and, looking out of it, he could see that Betti had somehow fallen out of the vent system completely, into the main theater, where she was lying in one of the aisles. She seemed to be unconscious.

He frantically maneuvered himself around until his feet were near the grating, and kicked it until it gave way. Then he squeezed through the gap and dropped to the floor. He rushed to Betti’s side. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t breathing, but he didn’t get much of a chance to check. He heard footsteps, and noticed that Ouch the perch-blade was glowing blue. Whatever had happened to Betti, he couldn’t let it all be for nothing. He took the perch and the script, with silent apologies to Betti, and ran and hid between two rows of seats a little way off.

While he was waiting for the Nazis to pass, he had a thought – he could use the script himself, and become a famous star! The idea sounded appealing. But wait, he thought. All the people I care about – like Betti – live in the Burgh. I don’t need or want to be famous. And I’d probably make a pretty rotten actor anyway, he added, just to be honest with himself. So he decided to complete Betti’s task of destroying the script and all its carbons.

A detail of Nazis was marching through the theater, and they stopped when they reached Betti. “Oh,” one of them said, “it looks like Pavlob’s thrown another person out of the air ducts. She looks like she’s one of the Burgh-folk Mr. Sauron told us to expect– see how innocent she looks? We’d better take her to Mr. Sauron – he’ll want to interrogate her himself.” Several of them hoisted her up and one of them threw her over his shoulder, and they moved off.

Darn, thought Doug. The fall hadn’t killed her – probably due to the fact that she’d happened to land on an inflatable raft that had just been sitting in the middle of the aisle – and now the Nazis had her. I’d better follow them to see where they take her, he thought. They were out of sight, but he could hear where they had gone.

So Doug, with the Script of Power in one hand and Betti’s blue-glowing perch Ouch in the other, followed the Nazis. Betti was alive, but had been taken by the enemy.

THE RETURN OF THE FCC

Chapter One

On the morning of the third day since they had left the others, Victor and Eugen reached the estate of Medethor and Mellethor on Long Island, the Agitato Public Library, outside of which was a magnificent, but dead, white radio. Eugen wondered aloud if it was the radio of which Seldon Sauron had spoken in code.

“Of course it is,” said Victor. “It is the radio of the house of Sherwood, the king of the FCC.” To himself, he sung softly, “…seven phones and seven stars, and a radio white as the bird of the sea.”

“So Medethor and Mellethor are the kings of the FCC?” Eugen asked.

“No, they are stewards,” Victor explained. “The FCC hasn’t had a king since Agatha took the script for herself and disappeared. And, since we’re on the topic, be careful not to say anything about Scotagorn or his swordfish.”

“Why not?” Eugen asked. “I thought Scotagorn was just some stranger.”

“Certainly. All the Sherwoods are that, now, and will be until one of them reclaims his heritage. I hope that Scotagorn has it in him to do it.”

“Oh, this is all so confusing!” Eugen said.

They were ushered in to see Medethor and Mellethor right away. Victor tried to begin to tell them that Seldon Sauron was planning an attack, but Mellethor wouldn’t let him. She revealed a horn that they recognized as belonging to Celiamir.

“Have you come to explain why Celiamir is no longer with us?” the grand old lady asked critically.

“Well, I…” Victor began, but Eugen interrupted.

“She got a call from a big producer, and we were all very proud of her, because she really did want to be an actress, and that was her big chance! I think she’ll make a really good actress.”

“What is this, a Burgh-folk-person?” asked Mellethor. “I see you have an organ with you. Can you play?”

“Well, actually…” Eugen said,

“First the rooster he sings on the farm, cock-a-doodle-doo,

Then the morning-bell rings an alarm to awaken you.

Let Ingram’s Coffee wake you up

Have a bright and brimming morning cup

With breakfast at Bedside Manor.”▫

Medethor was fuming, and he spoke for the first time. “Am I hallucinating or did she just sing a song about my competition!?” he asked.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” Eugen said. “That song isn’t fit for your halls!” She began again:

“Don’t fall asleep at the wheel;

Don’t let the world know how tired you feel.

Let this be your motto:

A cup of Agitato!

To make sure you keep at the…

Not counting sheep at the…

Don’t fall asleep at the wheel!”▫

“Well, Victor the Gray,” said Mellethor, “why have you come?”

“Mellethor,” Victor said, “I just need to let you and Medethor know that Seldon Sauron is setting out from his stronghold to lay siege on your estate. He does not have the Script of Power yet, but the FCC is in his way to monopolizing the Network regardless, even without a king.”

Medethor and Mellethor were not particularly surprised, but they did want to talk to him further. Eugen was excused from the room.

Meanwhile, Scotagorn and the rest of his company split up. Mr. Ingram, with CJ’omer, Mapowyn, and Foley were going to continue back to Washington to raise support for the attack on Seldon Sauron; Scotagorn, acting on Mapowyn’s advice, decided to take the Paths of the Defaulted to raise another army. Jeffolas and Mackli went with Scotagorn, Jeffolas because he was curious and Mackli because he wanted to show Jeffolas that elves were no better than dwarves.

Mr. Ingram had difficulty finding soldiers, but when he had rounded up all he could find, he led the march towards Long Island. He made Foley stay behind, because he had no experience in battle. Foley was so upset about being left behind that he couldn’t speak. He missed Eugen very badly, and he thought that everyone else was going to be allowed to go to the battle, at least until he heard that CJ’omer wasn’t being allowed either. (CJ’omer didn’t have any battle experience either, because whenever there was a fight he was always given the duty of looking after the secretaries and cleaning ladies – in fact, as Mr. Ingram pointed out, CJ’omer didn’t even own a fish!) But while Foley was sulking, a mysterious fellow with a helmet already on came and grabbed Foley’s gear, telling Foley to follow and assuring him that he would teach him about fighting on the way.

The Paths of the Defaulted were very scary. Mackli was reluctant to even look inside the dark, misty, web-covered cave that the path led into. To help him, Jeffolas told him the story of the Defaulted.

“A long time ago,” Jeffolas explained, “the Defaulters were a family of very rich kings. They had promised to give the house of Sherwood a cut of their business’ profits if the FCC would do some advertising. The FCC fulfilled their part of the bargain, but the kings wouldn’t pay up. So the FCC put them in chains and packed them away in this cave, and the only thing that can break the chains is the swordfish of the house of Sherwood wielded by the king of the FCC! (No one else is allowed to use the swordfish). But because the swordfish flopped when Agatha took the Script of Power – she beat Seldon Sauron over the head with it until it went limp, you know – no one has been able to free the kings. So of course they’re pretty grumpy – they strangle everyone who comes near the place.”

Mackli’s eyes were wide. “What was the name of the business?” he asked.

“Uh, Broom Brother’s Department Store,” Jeffolas said.

“How many Broom Brothers are there?” Mackli asked.

“Two million,” said Jeffolas.

“Two million?”

“It was a very large chain of stores,” Jeffolas replied.

When they got to the room where the Broom Brothers were kept, they were attacked, but Scotagorn held the attacking brothers off with his swordfish.

“If you will help us defeat Seldon Sauron,” Scotagorn proclaimed, “I will count your debt to the house of Sherwood paid, and I will cut your chains.”

The Broom Brothers guffawed. “You can’t do that,” they said. “The only fish that can break our chains has flopped.”

“It has been re-stuffed,” said Scotagorn, eyes twinkling. “Very exciting.”

Eugen was wandering around the Agitato Public Library, waiting for Victor and trying in the meantime to find someone who would give her a cup of coffee, when suddenly there was great ruckus just outside the estate gates. A band of the Agitato Public Library’s people were returning from the wilderness, followed closely by the Radiowraiths. While Eugen watched, breathless, the soldiers tried to defend themselves. They were losing, though, until Victor came from somewhere and beat them away with his pikestaff, much as Scotagorn had done with his bass back when they had just been leaving the Burgh.

Victor and the leader of the wanderers, who turned out to be Enid-Faramir, daughter of the estate stewards, met Eugen on their way back into the estate.

“Victor,” said Enid-Faramir, “this is not the first I’ve seen of Burghfolk recently. Two days ago, while my band was neutralizing an army of angry farmers traveling to join Seldon Sauron, we came upon Betti Robbins and her lawyer.”

“Betti’s alive?” Victor exclaimed. He sighed happily.

“They had with them a singularly suspicious character – Hilum,” said Enid-Faramir. “They were planning to go directly to Broadway; I don’t know how they were planning to enter the theater, but I warned them against utilizing the air ducts.”

“You don’t know how much better this makes me feel,” Victor said. “She’s smart – she’ll figure it out. And once we’re done repelling the coming attack, I’ll be off to Broadway to help her, with anyone else who wants to come.”

Medethor and Mellethor sent Enid-Faramir out against the growing number of Nazi sympathizers massing for a fight once more, but she couldn’t do anything useful – in fact, she got tickled by an enemy deep-sea anglerfish, and was out for the rest of the battle with a bad case of the giggles.

“This is going to be difficult,” Victor said to Medethor and Mellethor. “We are up against Crowley, the Radiowraith leader, besides all these Nazis. It is said that there is no fish on earth that can hurt him.”

Medethor was worried by the growing masses of Seldon Sauron’s soldiers. Victor tried to reassure him.

“I have a new, exciting idea for how to fight them,” Victor began.

“Oh, no, no, leave me out of your innovations,” said Medethor. “I’ve been the guinea pig for too many of your experiments.”

“Mr. Ingram and Scotagorn are coming with more people,” Victor said.

“Well, that’s wonderful news,” Medethor said sarcastically. “My competition, and the fellow who’s going to take over my FCC supervisory duties?”

“How did you know about that?” Victor asked, casting a critical glance at Eugen, who was seated at her organ. Eugen looked back innocently.

“I’ve been talking to Seldon Sauron, to find out what he’s been doing. He told me,” said Medethor.

“You have one of the phones?” Victor exclaimed.

“No one’s coming,” said Medethor, “and even if they are, I’m finished anyway. There is no point to this! Miss Eugen,” he said, turning to her, “your days are your own from here on in.” With that, he stormed out of the room.

Victor led the battle, as Eugen assisted by playing organ music for everyone to fight to, but the battle was difficult. The Nazis stormed the gates of the estate with a huge flaming orca battering ram, and very nearly overran the estate. Luckily, Mr. Ingram showed up with his people.

The Nazis still outnumbered the others, but Mr. Ingram with his trout and Mapowyn with her manta ray (not to mention Foley the stowaway and his mysterious friend) were starting to hold their own when the Radiowraiths appeared again. Most of them concentrated on attacking the estate, and so were dealt with by Victor, but Crowley went right for Mr. Ingram. As Foley watched, unnoticed, Crowley struck Mr. Ingram down, and was about to shock him with his un-live radio signal when he was intercepted by Foley’s mysterious friend.

“Get out of my way,” Crowley sneered.

“No,” said the stranger. He pulled of his helmet. It was CJ’omer!

“Fool,” said Crowley. “Don’t you know that no fish on earth can hurt me?”

Foley could not let CJ’omer be tickled, and so pulled out the cap gun from his sound effects kit. At the noise it made, Crowley turned and knocked Foley to the side. But while his back was turned, CJ’omer whipped out his stuffed albatross.

“This is no fish,” he said, and smacked Crowley over the head. Crowley fell over unconscious, and CJ’omer, shocked with the Radiowraith’s un-live signal, fell over too.

Despite everyone’s best efforts, the Nazis were still winning until Scotagorn arrived with Jeffolas and Mackli at his side and two million Broom Brothers in chains behind them. The Nazis simply could not stand up to opponents in those numbers, and in twenty minutes, the battle was pretty much over.

As Victor watched, Scotagorn broke the brothers’ chains with his swordfish, and let them go free.

“You’ll have to tell everyone soon,” Victor said. “You have to lead the next battle – I’ll have to go help Betti, if I can.”

“I know,” Scotagorn said.

They took their wounded in from the battle, and Scotagorn cured their giggles with elven coffee. Then he left them to rest and gathered everyone who was not wounded together.

“Well, we’re almost done,” he said. “The only thing left to do is to attack Seldon Sauron’s Broadway fortress. So we’d better go. But this time, I’m going to be leading, because Victor – has to go help someone. And, I’m going to be the new king of the FCC – if we win. My last name is Sherwood and Agatha is my auntie – I mean my aunt. Oh, will you look at the time – let’s go!”

Scotagorn, along with Victor and Eugen, Jeffolas, Mackli, and Mapowyn, went to Broadway and approached the front door. Scotagorn knocked, and they waited. Finally someone came out.

“What do you want?” the short, bald man asked.

“You’re not Seldon Sauron,” Victor said. “Who are you?”

“I’m the person who answers the door,” he said. “Seldon Sauron doesn’t stoop to speak to such as you. My name is Kurt Holstrom.”

“Well, tell Seldon Sauron that he should send out all his men to fight, or else we’re coming in to fight them inside,” Scotagorn said. “And after we get done, he’ll need to redecorate.”

“I think not,” said Holstrom. “We have your little friend, Betti Robbins of the Burgh. So innocent looking! If you give us free rein to all the bandwidth possible, and turn over all your broadcasting licenses, and promise to do nothing against the Nazis, then we’ll be quick about it when we do away with her. Otherwise….” he trailed off.

Scotagorn and Victor both choked a desire to slug him, and stepped together to confer, while Eugen listened in.

“We can’t give in to the Nazis just for one person, no matter how much we care about her,” whispered Scotagorn.

“Not only that, but they didn’t say that they have Doug, which probably means they either haven’t caught him yet, or they don’t even know that he’s with her; either is a good sign, and hope is not lost,” Victor said.

“But, Victor, if they have Betti, they have the script!” Eugen said.

“Well, just because we might lose doesn’t mean we won’t fight,” Scotagorn said. “Would you go ask Mr. Ingram to get his people ready to charge?” Eugen nodded and stepped away.

“That was nicely put,” said Victor.

“Yeah, I had to tell her something,” Scotagorn shrugged.

“Hm. Well, once the battle gets going, I’ll sneak around back and try to get in to help Betti,” Victor said.

They nodded, and Scotagorn raised his voice. “Tell Seldon Sauron: I don’t think so!” Scotagorn called to Holstrom. “We’re attacking!”

Chapter Two

Doug followed the Nazis as closely as he could while still staying hidden. They ended up going into a room in the corner of the basement; since there was nowhere else for them to go, he hid behind a pile of old scripts and waited until they left the room. When they had gone, he went in himself. No one was there.

“Darn. I was sure they didn’t have her when they left,” he said out loud. He sat down sadly, thinking of how the Burgh’s radio station would go out of business if he failed, and of how much he’d miss Betti if he could never find her. He suddenly felt poetic.

“Roses are red,” he recited, “violets blue

Sugar is sweet; Betti, where are you?”

He said it over several times until, pausing, he thought he heard a reply coming out of the wall. The voice said,

“Roses are red, violets blue

Sugar is sweet - - - I’m here!”

He ran to the wall nearest the voice and pulled back the curtain covering it. There was a door, and, when he had managed to get it open, he found Betti!

“Doug!” she cried. “Oh, Doug, I’m glad you found me! I’m sorry I couldn’t rhyme my answer – even with me being a, you know, okay writer, I have difficulty making things up in an instant, with the rhymes all landing with perfection.”

“That’s okay, Betti,” Doug said. “Come on, let’s find the carbons and be done!”

“Alright… Doug, I think I’ve forgotten something,” Betti said.

“Oh, what is it?” he asked.

“I think I’ve already forgotten,” Betti said. Then she gasped, having an awful realization, and patted her pockets. “The script! Doug, they took the script! Oh, no! Victor placed his trust – and the script – in my hands! I’ve failed him!”

“It’s all right, Betti,” Doug said. “I have it, and Ouch.” He returned the things to their rightful owner. Betti took them breathlessly.

As she put the perch in her belt, she thought of something else. “Doug,” she said, “after we destroy the script, how will we get out this theater without getting caught? There aren’t any Nazis here, but we might run into some trying to get out.”

“I have an idea,” Doug said. “I’ll be right back.”

He returned in a few minutes with a couple of Nazi officer’s uniforms over his arm. “Here,” he said, “just slip this on over your clothes – that way, if someone sees us, they’ll just think we’re a couple of Nazi officers going about their business.”

Betti agreed. Doug’s uniform went on easily, but the gray breeches of a Nazi officer didn’t go on over Betti’s skirt very easily. She ducked back into the closet and changed while Doug stood lookout in the room.

Doug had seen the filing cabinets as he followed the Nazis carrying Betti, and he led her right to them. They both began rifling through the files.

“There are just too many,” Betti sighed.

“What are you looking under?” Doug said.

“A, of course,” said Betti. “We have to look at every single file to make sure we’ve got everything.”

“That will take too long,” Doug said. “Here, you look under C, E, and F, for ‘carbons’, ‘evil plot devices’, and ‘FCC elimination plans’. I’ll look under O and S for ‘one script’, ‘Seldon Sauron’, ‘Script of Power’, and ‘Sherwood elimination plans’.

They got to work, and Betti found them filed under C for ‘carbons’, sub-heading ‘Script of Power parts 1-8’. There were no carbons for the ninth part; Doug found a summary of the script under ‘Script of Power’, and that was all.

“Now what?”asked Doug.

“We destroy them…. I know! The matches given to us in Lothlorien by Gertrudriel!” Betti exclaimed, dumping the papers she held in a pile on the floor and fishing the matches out of her bag.

“Great!” Doug chimed in. He dumped his papers on the floor with Betti’s. Betti lit a match, and set it down among the papers.

“What are you doing?” boomed a voice from the doorway.

As the pile of papers caught on fire, Doug and Betti looked up from under the brims of their Nazi officer’s caps. Hilum stood fiercely in the doorway.

“We’re destroying the Script of Power and all its carbons,” Betti said.

“No, it’s mine!” screamed Hilum. “My Puuuuuuumpkiiiiiiiiiiiin!” She flew at Betti, yanking a drawer out of the nearest cabinet and chucking it at her. The drawer missed Betti, but many of the papers fell onto the fire, adding to its size. And as Hilum chased Betti around the room, she pulled more drawers out and threw them, only adding to the flammable mess. Finally the fire walled Betti, Doug, and Hilum into a corner, and Hilum quit fighting, realizing that they were in serious trouble.

“My pumpkin!” she cried, trying to dart into the fire after it. Betti held her back, and in a rage, Hilum grabbed Betti’s hand and bit her on the finger. With a cry, Betti let go, but by now Doug had a grip on both of Hilum’s arms.

“It’s too late,” he said. “It’s gone.”

Hilum sank to the floor. “My pumpkin!” she sobbed. “What am I going to do?”

“Well,” Betti said, holding her sore finger, “even though you sent me to Pavlob and tried to smash me with a drawer, we could be friends.”

“Friends?” Hilum asked, looking up.

“Wonderful, caring friends,” Betti said.

“This talk has changed my life,” said Hilum. “I’ve never had a friend before – except for Ruth. Betti, I promise to be a caring, adoring friend.”

“I hate to break the mood,” said Doug, “but we’ve got to try to get out of here.”

They had nowhere to go, though, and could only shrink back against the wall, as far from the blazing fire as possible.

Just after they passed out, a man wearing a long white robe broke through the wall, leading a crew of firemen. They rescued Betti, Doug, and Hilum; having protected the nearby buildings from the fire, they let Seldon Sauron’s fortress burn to the ground.

later

As soon as Betty woke, and was brought to understand that all of her friends were alive and safe, including Victor the White, preparation was made for the coronation of the new king of the FCC. When Seldon Sauron was finally defeated, Scotagorn remembered the piece of tin given to him in Lothlorien by Gertrudriel. He washed it in the water surrounding Long Island, and found that It was an important part of a radio’s speaker; when CJ’omer put it into the white radio of the house of Sherwood, the radio crackled to life. Then the court of seven stars was appointed: Jeffolas and Mackli, Mapowyn and CJ’omer and Enid-Faramir, all because of their brave fighting against Seldon Sauron, and also Hilum, because, as Betti admitted later, no one would have thought to burn down the whole theater without her. But no one knew who the seventh star would be, until a taxi pulled up outside Mellethor’s estate, and out stepped Celiamir, back from Hollywood!

When Victor the White crowned Scotagorn king of the FCC, and the king, with his seven stars, two phones (five had been destroyed), and radio white as CJ’omer’s albatross (the bird of the sea), sat on his throne wielding his swordfish with authority, Betti and her three friends decided to return to their station in the Burgh, confident that Scotagorn would make rulings that helped independent radio stations stay in business. Victor the White traveled back with them as far as New Jersey; he had decided to return to Greensboro to visit Mr. Eldrond and Gionetti Robbins.

The Burgh-folk just couldn’t wait to hear their old station, so they bought a small portable radio and tuned into their station’s frequency. What the heard horrified them! Every show was about money, capitalism, people suing other people, doctors being against socialized medicine, heroes not being able to travel because their planes were made by union shops, and whole towns being destroyed by a series of natural disasters! They hurried to the station and found that Rollie, formerly the head financeer of the Radiomasters, had taken revenge on Victor by writing horrible scripts for the Burgh’s station’s broadcasts. The shows had been ruined under Rollie’s control, and the whole station was an absolute dump.

In front of the station’s owner, Betti confronted Rollie, arguing that he was not only pretty rude and an awful scriptwriter, but that he was a Nazi sympathizer. She also coaxed Miss Gravetounge to give the station owner a run-down of all Rollie’s Nazi activities, so that there was no doubt about Rollie’s character and sympathies. He was banned from the station forever.

Betti began to rewrite scripts immediately, while Foley and Eugen went on air with sound effect and organ duets to stall for time. Doug finally discovered what his gift from Gertrudriel was for – he used the broom to sweep up the mess Rollie had allowed to grow in the station.

When he had finished, he found Betti in her office, typing. “I’ve finished,” he said.

The walked to the door of studio A, and watched Foley and Eugen as they performed.

Betti sighed happily. “Well, we’re back,” she said.

Conclusion

Betty closed the script, and with a look on her face that Scott couldn’t interpret, set the script down on Scott’s desk.

“Scott Sherwood,” she finally said.

“Yes?” he asked grinning confidently.

Betty started to say something, but before she could get it out, she burst out laughing. Scott joined her in a few seconds, and they laughed together until they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Mr. Eldridge stuck his head in. “Everyone’s gone home,” he said. “There’s a little coffee left over – do you want it?”

Scott and Betty looked at each other, and kept laughing.

THE END