You can sift through the racc list archive https://lists.eyrie.org/pipermail/racc/
or you can try google groups racc for these issues of LNH v2.


And we start off with LNH v2 #32 by Drew Perron. Can the LNH defeat
the perfect black sphere that calls itself the Syllogist or perhaps the Syllogist will have a really compelling case that will convince the LNH
to allow to go on its killing of all unlogical life forms? Maybe? And
we also have a backup story. What if there was an alternate LNH that
was pretty much like our own LNH, but with way different colors? What
if, indeed!

And Saxon Brenton gives us another MISANTHROPIC TALES of the Net.Trenchcoat Brigade in LNH v2 #33. Will there be a team-up of the NTB'r Doubt and the
Old Western hero the Load Ranger to stop a crazed railroad destroying machine from the past? Or will that not happen because the Load Ranger died some
time in way backs of yesteryear and because of that will only appear in the flashback thus ruining any possibility of a team-up?


Find out some of that in...


_
| | Classic
| | =
| | ____ ____ _ ____ ___
| |__ | [] | | [] | | | | [] | | _ \

|____| \__] \__ | |_| \__/ |_|\_\
||
|_| OF NET.HEROES

ADVENTURES #205


=====================
Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #32-33
=====================









From: Andrew Perron pwerdna at gmail.com
Date: Tue Dec 15 18:49:49 PST 2009



PREHISTORIC PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS

<---------------------->
___ ___________________________
| |-| \
| |-| [] / #32 "The Vulcan Fallacy!"
| | | [] egion of \ With special backup story:
| | | []__ [] [] [] [] / "Palette Swap!"
| | | [___][ \[]et.[]__[]eroes \
| | | []\ ] [ __ ] / Written and copyright 2009
| |-| [] [] [] [] \ Andrew Perron
| |-|__________________________/
| |
| | Cover is split down the middle with a black circle in the center.
| | On the left are angry, shouting heroes like Frothing-At-The-Mouth
| | Lad and Softcentre in monochrome silver, while on the right are
| | imperious, aloof heroes like Comics Snob Boy and Adamant Authority-
| | on-Everything in monochrome gold. In the lower right corner
| | there's a triangle with Library Lad and New Look Lass jumping out
| | at the reader.
|_|

<---------------------->

A perfectly round, perfectly black sphere was hovering in the air just
in front of the LNHHQ. After a crowd of net.heroes and onlookers had assembled, multicolored lights began to flash just above its surface,
and it spoke.

"I am Syllogist, self-improving logical intelligence. My drive is to
seek perfection and encourage logic. It is logical that destruction of illogical beings is more efficient than conversion of illogical beings
to logical beings. However, free sharing of information is also
efficient. As a compromise, I will allow two questioners and answer
two queries each."

The assembled crowd broke into mumbling, muttering and murmuring.
Doctor Stomper and Fearless Leader were conferring on how to trick it
into revealing its weaknesses when Dualist Lad pushed his way out of
the crowd. "I think I know how to defeat it!"

Fearless Leader raised his eyebrow, but nodded. "All right. Kid Kirby,
get our cosmic defenses up in case this doesn't work."

Dualist Lad walked toward the sphere. A flash of light, and two people
stood there. "Your questioners are ready."

"Ready to accept queries."

Dual Silver stepped forward, hands behind his back, speaking softly and
in an even tone. "Query: Is it possible for a logical system to be
consistent, sound, and complete, and allow one to derive false
inferences?"

Syllogist flashed a pattern of colors. "Yes, if one starts from false premises."

Dual Silver clasped his hands in front of him. "Query: Is correctness a necessary condition of perfection?"

"Yes. Next questioner."

Dual Gold ran his hand through his hair and stepped forward. He raised
his hand, palm-up, and spoke in a quiet, resolute voice. "Query: Can
true premises be reached other than by true data?"

The lights flashed for a half-second longer this time. "...No."

Dual Gold pointed his finger at Syllogist, and as he spoke, his voice
grew loud. "Query: To take actions which are both correct and logical,
is all available data necessary?"

Lights flashed, but Syllogist did not answer. After 256 seconds, the
sphere rose into the air, still flashing, and quickly disappeared.

A flash, and Dualist Lad was back together, wiping his brow. "Whew."

Doctor Stomper stepped up. "I see. You convinced it that it couldn't
take any actions without gathering all the data in the universe."

Dualist Lad nodded. "It'll keep recording data indefinitely... unless
there was a flaw in *my* logic. If it ever scans someone realizing
that was wrong, it'll probably come back and kill us all."

Fearless Leader furrowed his brow. "...so, to keep the world safe, it's
best never to apply logic to this problem ever again?"

"Looks like!"

"...huh."

<---------------------->

<---------------------->

"Merry Christmas from Chiron Beta Prime, motherflankers!" shouted
Anachronistic Boy, unloading a forest of crossbow bolts into the
invading robot.

"Hurry, I guess," shouted Lazy Boy, waving New Look Lass and Library
Lad through the temporary gap in the fighting.

"This doesn't make sense," said New Look Lass to Library Lad. "A
universe where all the heroes are identical to members of the Legion,
but with differently-colored hair, skin, and costumes?"

Library Lad nodded. "In the Six-Dimensional Atlas, it is known as Earth-Repaint."

New Look Lass frowned. "That's a pretty cheap way to come out with new
toys."

Library Lad shrugged. "Some people enjoy that sort of thing, I
suppose."

Admiral Infinity took out the Shiny MacGuffin of Command. "By the
virtue of--"

"Yoink!" New Look Lass grabbed the crystal-thingy and held it up. A
blazing flash lit up the battlefield, and when the afterimages cleared, everyone had been subtly redesigned. The new costumes increased each character's individuality and made them distinct from their
inspirations while still being true to the spirit of the original.

"That's good," said Library Lad, "but how do we defeat the giant
robots?"

"...um."

<---------------------->

Sometimes, I come up with an idea and, instead of weaving it into an
ongoing plot, just give it its own short-short story. Twice in one
week? Time to mash 'em together and post 'em!

Decos of the heroes of Earth-Repaint:

Anachronistic Boy is Insomnia Boy wearing green pajamas with little
clocks on them.

Lazy Boy is Substitute Lad's original costume in light brown and
burgundy with olive-green piping and a big yellow "Z" on the chest.

Admiral Infinity is this picture of Fearless Leader: http://www.dvandom.com/drawings/fearless.GIF , with dark skin, gray
hair, white instead of green, red instead of brown, a blue visor, and
US Navy Admiral insignia on the shoulders.

Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, quick 'n dirty!


From: Saxon Brenton saxonbrenton at hotmail.com
Date: Thu Dec 31 14:58:14 PST 2009



[NTB/LNH/Contest] Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #33

This issue of:

[]
[] egion of
[]__ [] [] [] []
[___][ \[]et.[]__[]eroes Volume 2 #33
[]\ ] [ __ ]
[] [] [] []

has *once again* been hijacked to present another of the

MISANTHROPIC TALES
OF THE
NET.TRENCHCOAT BRIGADE


'Gathering Dust'
starring Doubt, the Eighth Endless
guest appearance by the Load Ranger

written by and copyright 2009 Saxon Brenton
for the fifth High Concept Challenge


2009.
There was a man in a trenchcoat wandering among the exhibits at the Toulhousie Historical Mining Museum. Kathy only managed to notice him the second time, and then only because she was putting some effort into looking
for any stragglers. "Excuse me sir, a tour is about to begin," she called.
He looked up from the diagram he was staring at and smiled vaguely.
"Oh, good. I don't think I'd want to miss that." He ambled in the
indicated direction and Kathy had the opportunity to get a good look at him.
He didn't have a particularly remarkable appearance. Pale skin, almost
chalky. It was hard to tell the colour of his coat, probably because of the dust. And after that Kathy thought no more of him; certainly not later on, among all the excitement of a giant robot bursting out of an old mine shaft
to go on a rampage.


1872.
Even before he crested the ridge the Load Ranger could hear that he
was too late. Actually seeing the devastation with his own eyes didn't
improve things one whit.
There was a giant metal creature down there - some fifteen feet tall
by the Ranger's reckoning, approximately man shaped and as ugly as sin.
It had grabbed one of the carriages of an eastwards bound locomotive and
heaved it from its tracks, in the process derailing the rest of the train
as the wrenching movement had transferred forward to the engine as well as
back to the caboose. Cries of panic and screams of pain could be heard,
even at this distance and even over the sound of the giant rending apart
the carriage with its hands as it chanted, "Destroy Railroads!"
A bare half second's worth of startled surprise was all that the
vigilante allowed himself before spurring Silver down the slope towards
the scene. As they thundered apace the Ranger grimly wondered at where
this insanity would end.
This wasn't the first time that he had a run-in one of these things.
Of course, on the occasion of his previous encounter he had been lucky
enough to have help from the cannon fire of the cavalry at Fort Muddybottom. (That had been a surprise, actually, since by all accounts the troops at
Fort Muddybottom couldn't hit the side of a barn.) But this time he was
out here on his own, with only his wits. Even if he had been prepared to
shoot to kill, he doubted if his famed silver bullets would be of much use against an iron giant such as this!
As the Ranger rode up the last few yards he could see that this, also,
was a built thing. He hadn't been entirely sure of that until now, since unlike the automaton at Fort Muddybottom this one was covered entirely by
a skin of metal plates. Moreover the other one had been more beastlike,
moving on all fours and with a hunched back from which the smoke of its
boiler had billowed. This one was more human shaped, standing upright, and didn't seem to have a smoke stack. Did any of these differences mean
anything in practical terms? Was there something here that he could use?
The Load Ranger fired off two shots at the face of the machine, experimenting to see if he could attract its attention and get it to chase
him. If not he had brought some rope reinforced with strands of steel
cabling to try and entangle its legs, but the Ranger had no idea what the machines strength was compared to the breaking strain of the rope and so
he'd prefer to use that as a last resort.
Luck was with him. The mechanical monster left off from picking up
and destroying a second carriage, instead focusing on the masked gunman and
his horse. The Load Ranger wheeled away, keeping just ahead of the giant
and occasionally firing another shot at it just to keep its attention. By
this method he was able to lure the destructive thing away from the
overturned train and towards the nearby mine workings.
It took a while to lure the machine into the trap he had in mind.
There were times when only quick reactions on the part of Silver had kept
the two of them from being trampled, but fortunately the horse had, well,
good horse sense. (Ha, let Pe.cosine Bill boast about how smart his
Wi.DOS Maker was. The Load Ranger would bet his money on Silver any day
of the week.)
Closer now. The last few yards. The last few feet. Was this even
going to work, wondered the Ranger. The machine was obviously smart enough
to recognise a train as a target, and to chase something that was provoking
it. Was it smart enough to avoid treading on timbers not strong enough to
bear its weight?
The answer was no. With a lumbering step the giant contraption
stepped on the boards that covered an abandoned mine shaft, which
obligingly gave way. The machine fell in with a resounding clamour, and
even though the Ranger dismounted and waited for more than half an hour to
see whether it had survived, he heard neither hide nor hair of it.


2009.
Bobby Dittmunds was bored with the museum. The teenager had tried
playing games on his cell, but the baking air seemed to have sucked away
all his enthusiasm. Nor was the current tour all that interesting.
" ...the short lived period of the late 19th century when the robber barons sponsored teams of engineers to build the so-called steel leviathans
- giant robots that went around attacking each others' railroads... "
"Bobby, where are you going?" his mother hissed.
"Going to the john, Ma."
"We'll meet you at the canteen in half an hour."
Bobby slouched to the public lavatories, went in, came out, then on a
whim kept heading for the edge of the museum and when he was out of sight jumped the fence. He had no set destination other than to be by himself
in a place where he shouldn't be, so when he came to one of the many
boarded over tunnels that honeycombed the area his reaction was, "Huh.
Yeah, okay. Why not?" He set his back-to-front baseball cap at a more determined angle, and heedless of potential problems like cave-ins, foul
air or lurking rattlesnakes he busted his way in. He moved in a distance, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the darkness after the outside glare,
and then by the light from the screen of his mobile phone began to explore.
There wasn't much to see, even in the rather dim light. He was about
to turn back and find something else to mooch around with when he spotted something glowing a faint yellow.
He moved forward and picked up what looked like a large chunk of quartz crystal, about the size of his forearm and regular in shape. Bobby looked around. There didn't seem to be any others.
However, he was at a junction where a vertical shaft came down from
above, and where a large piece of machinery had fallen down and become partially wedged. There was a compartment door that was hanging open on
the machinery. Maybe it had been forced open and the quartz had spilt
out? Bobby checked inside and found no other glowing minerals, but did discover an upright indentation of exactly the right size and shape for
the piece of rock. Disappointed and bored again, Bobby muttered, "Eh, whatever," and put in crystal in.
It immediately started to glow brighter and the machinery began to
judder. Bobby fell back on his rear end, dropping his mobile. The
machinery started to lift itself upwards, unfolding the legs that it had
been crouched down on after its initial collapse down the mine. The still
open cover to the recess that held the crystal was torn off its hinges as
the thing rose up into the narrow shaft, causing the sheared off metal plate
to drop directly in front of the teenager. Any closer and it would have brained him. Bobby hastily scrabbled to grab his mobile phone, then
hightailed it out of there. For its part the newly reactivated steel
leviathan was exiting the mine in the other direction.


Up above there was muted rumbling as the leviathan roused itself.
Only a few people were in the car park and standing close enough to hear
this forewarning, and most of them did not notice. As a result most of
them were caught off guard when a great steel-plated fist punched its way through the timbers of the sealed off mine shaft.
People screamed. Parents snatched up their children and ran. Other
bored kids went "Cool!" and started shooting videos on their phones.
Doubt did not move, prompting a good samaritan to assume that he was paralysed with fright. He grabbed the pale man's arm and said, "Come on, mister! It'll be safer over here."
The Trenchcoater stood his ground and just *looked* at his would-be saviour, who for his part had been about to yell something at the stubborn fool, but now just went, " urk ".
"I don't think you want to do that."
" uh "
"You should probably run that way," said Doubt, indicating where
everyone else had fled.
" urgle "
Doubt turned his attention back to the now fully emerged giant
automaton. The metal monster stood silhouetted against the desert sky and yelled, "Where Is The Railroad!?"
"It's gone," said Doubt.
The steel leviathan whirled on the NTBer, as is seeing him for the
first time. "Where Is The Railroad!?"
"Nobody uses the railroad anymore," repeated Doubt. "It's gone."
"Where!?"
"It's dead." He pointed over the ridge line. "Over there."
The giant construct looked, then turned back to the squishy one. Who
was no longer there.
"The railroad is dead," called out Doubt from the crest of the hill. (Quantum indeterminacy. He'd always found it useful for getting about.)
He pointed again. "Down there."
The leviathan strode up the hill towards where the NTBer now stood. "Where?" it demanded.
"Down there. It's overgrown, but you can still see some of the old tracks."
The leviathan moved down to where, if you looked carefully, you could indeed still see an old rail bed. The rails themselves were long gone,
having been recycled for scrap during the world war and leaving only
rotting wooden sleepers to share the ballast with weeds. Doubt followed, ambling after at a distance. The leviathan looked at the rails for
several minutes, then said, "Why?"
Doubt shrugged and elaborated on his line. "Times change. You've been inactive for more than a hundred and thirty years. No one uses railroads
any more. They use horseless carriages instead."
"Show Me Horseless Carriages."
Doubt waved for the machine to follow him, and then lead the way up to
the summit of yet another hill (no teleporting this time) to where they
would have a view of the distant interstate highway between Cal.bit.fornia
and Neva.dir. And if the steel leviathan had possessed inhumanly acute eyesight, it may have seen, on the horizon, the passage of a regularly scheduled and fully functioning train on transcontinental railway. But
Doubt was hardly going to bring that inconvenient fact to the construct's attention.
"Those things," said Doubt, indicating the interstate. "Small
carriages with their own engines built in so they don't need horses.
Actually, those too," he added, and pointed to some of the vehicles driving along the access road to the mining museum so that the machine would have
a closer view. "And of course, these days there are also airplanes."
The leviathan looked into the sky where the Trenchcoater indicated,
and spied the contrail of a jet. "Horseless carriages with wings, so that
they can fly," explained Doubt in a disinterested voice.
The leviathan watched the sky for a long time.
"Must Have Railroads," it said at last.
"There are no more railroads."
"Must have Railroads!" yelled the leviathan. "Must DESTROY Railroads!"
Doubt gave the giant machine an intense look, projecting a curdling
sense of existential uncertainty. "There are no more railroads," he repeated in a firm and deliberate voice.
The steel leviathan trembled. It bunched its hand into a fist, then
with a roar of anger punched a hole in its chest, tearing out the mechanical equivalent of its own heart. It toppled to the ground with enormous crash,
the sound echoing through the canyons.
Doubt didn't move during any of this. Instead he watched with interest, and after it was over he scratched his nose. To nobody in particular he
said, "That went quite well, I guess."


-----

Character Credits:
Doubt, the Eight Endless, created by Ken Arromdee. Used without permission. To the best that I can determine he hasn't appeared in a
story since he debuted in the _Wrath Of The Administrator_ back in 1993. (Although, yes, I am perfectly aware that given Doubt's abilities, I only *think* he hasn't made any appearances since WotA.)


Author's notes:
Written for the fifth High Concept Challenge: the anachronoid, a constructed person that has been out of circulation since at least World
War 2 and is has to come to terms with the modern age.
Originally I planned to use one of the Helots (the automatons created
by the Greek god Hephaestus) as the anachronoid, who would be found by an archaeologist. After a bit of thought it then occurred to me to use
Cute Anna as the archeologist, since she was an obvious fit for the role.
Then I changed my mind about the anachronoid, and took up an idea I've had kicking around for a while: that the robber barons of the 19th century
would - along with their standard misdemeanors - try to ruin their rivals
by using giant robots to attack each others' infrastructure.
Then, while I was collating the list of stories published in 2009 under the imprints relating to the Looniverse, I realised that there had been no Net.Trenchcoat Brigade stories. Now, Arthur had a Beige Countdown tie-in
issue of _On The Deadbeat_ lying around that he has since posted, but nevertheless it got me thinking. The Trenchcoaters would actually be better protagonists for the type of story I was planning. Instead of a net.hero having a fight scene, a Net.Trenchcoater would manipulate the anachronoid's psychology with underhanded trickery and lies.
On other matters, my thoughts on the Old Western characters run along these lines. The modern Looniverse has a lot of superhumans, a number of
which are throwaway parodies of extant comic book characters. Therefore
its plausible that it had a similar crowd of Western characters. The Load Ranger is of course a counterpart to the Lone Ranger, and Pe.cosine Bill parallels Pecos Bill. The mention of the army fort was originally going
to be explicitly an _F Troop_ reference, until a bit of fact checking
revealed that Fort Courage was in Kansas.

-----
Saxon Brenton University of Technology, city library, Sydney Australia
saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au saxonbrenton at hotmail.com
"These 'no-nonsense' solutions of yours just don't hold water in a complex world of jet-powered apes and time-travel." - Superman, JLA Classified #3


==========
Next Week: Possibly More LNH v2 issues!
==========

Arthur "Same Classic Channel. But Same Time? Probably not." Spitzer



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