The first call came in at exactly half past midnight on Tuesday.

"Hey, uh, Brainy―if that's still what you're going by. Listen, we've been having some trouble. Like, weird trouble. Something keeps popping up on our sensors that . . . well, I can't really explain it, I don't really understand it. But Bouncing Boy tells me it isn't good. And, uh, you know, we're a little . . . short-handed right now."

At least he got rid of the mullet, Querl thought. I never had the heart to tell him how stupid it looked.

"Anyway, we were hoping you could, you know, drop by sometime to . . . check it out. If you're not too busy. Oh, and uh, my arm's been acting up a little. Just on a side note. Anyways, Lightning Lad out."

The second call came at two twenty the following morning. Querl ducked out of his lab and stood outside, holding the glowing Legion ring in the flat of his palm.

"Brainy! Hey! Listen, I know we haven't talked in while―actually, almost a year, has it really been that long? Seems like only yesterday you were yelling at me for using the wrong kind of capacitors in the warp drive. . . Sorry, I'm off track."

You're always off-track, Querl retorted silently, resting his elbow on his other hand. And those capacitors were not nearly high enough voltage.

"Look, I know this is all kinda out of the blue, but we really could use you back at headquarters. The ship's in pretty bad shape and, well, I . . . can't make her work anymore. It's not mechanical, whatever it is. I think it's in the circuits, and, you know, since that's your area of expertise, I thought I'd give you a ring. Hah, ring, get it? 'Cause it's like, a telephone rings, but our communicators are rings. . . ."

Querl gave the communicator a withering glare.

"Anyway, if you could stop by, just for a little while, we'd all be real happy to see you. Especially since . . ." ―there was a muttered conversation― "since we're not at full strength. Just gimme a call back, anytime. I thought you might still be awake, but I guess you're getting more sleep these days. I hope you are."

"No," Querl answered suddenly, "no, I'm not."

"But that's my schpiel. Bouncing Boy out."

The third call was at four a.m. Thursday, catching him off-guard in the nearly empty student study lounge, and he almost answered. He put the ring on the black-topped table in front of him and stared at it until the automated message system accepted the call.

"Brainiac 5, this is Cosmic Boy. If you are receiving this call, please acknowledge."

There was a moment, a crackling instant, when Querl almost answered, almost reached out and touched the tiny button on the side of the ring that would put him in communication with the Legion. A wave of interference washed through the tiny speaker, and Querl leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms.

"I know you've been through a lot," Cosmic Boy continued at last, "we all have―but we need you back here, as soon as possible. Something's going on, and none of us know how to deal with it. We've got six Legionnaires missing. Six, Brainy. We don't know where they went, or what happened to them. They're just gone. Now I don't care what kind of personal issues you have with coming back here, and I don't care if you do your thing and leave again without saying a single word to any one of us. Just get here."

He sounds tired, Querl mused. More than usual.

There was a sigh of static over the line. "Brainy, I can't order you to come back, and even if I could. . . . But I am asking you. I'm asking you, as a friend . . . at least answer our calls. We've already got six missing teammates, and I don't want a seventh gone. Even if he isn't technically on the team anymore. Think it over, Brainy. I mean it. Really think it over. Cosmic Boy out."

The ring went dark; it became, once again, a little circlet of gold and circuitry. Technically he shouldn't have been allowed keep the ring, but they had insisted. It was almost as though they liked bending the rules for him.

"Who was that?" Kara asked, sitting down on the table in front of him. The student commons was all but empty at this hour, but Kara liked to hang around late into the night. He could swear she never had any reason to be there―mostly she slept on the big green couches and left when he did. "And did I mention it's pretty sweet that your ring is a phone?"

Querl sighed. "Just some old teammates of mine." he said, tucking the ring into the breast pocket of his coat. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Hey, if your team is asking for your help―"

"Old teammates, I said. I'm not on that team anymore."

She leaned forward and glared. Kara didn't look strong, but he'd seen her throw a bus six hundred yards before. Through a building. "It doesn't matter." she said. "If they need your help, go. Besides, it's not like you're doing anything here."

"My work at the lab is extremely important." Querl retorted, bristling.

"And it can wait a day while you find out what's going on with your old team. I'm sure Abel can handle it on his own. He's a smart kid." She winked and added, "Not as smart as you, of course."

"Be that as it may, the experimentation is at a very delicate stage right now."

"You say that every time I ask you out to dinner, too. Is the experimentation ever not at a 'very delicate stage?' Come on, Querl, listen to yourself. It sounds to me like you're making up reasons not to go."

"Don't be foolish. I'm not making up reasons―this research is incredibly important. You can't even begin to imagine the impact it will have on the past and future."

"Impact it will have on the past? You playing with time-travel in that lab?"

He just glared at the table.

"Will you tell me what it is, then?" she asked, voice soft, with an undertone of pleading. He looked up at her―a mistake. Her blue eyes sparkled in that familiar old way, and for an instant it was just like Superman was sitting there across from him. Warmth rose in his cheeks and he looked away.

"Much as I would love to go rushing off on this little adventure, it simply isn't possible. Despite Abel's admittedly formidable intellect and increasing proficiency with the lab equipment, I am still needed here."

She frowned at him. "You're needed there. Replay that message. Listen to what he's saying, since you obviously didn't the first time."

"I can recite the entire message from memory." Querl asserted, turning back to his tablet. "Replaying it is completely unnecessary."

A small hand pushed the tablet out of the way, and he was confronted with those eyes again. "If you aren't out of here by noon," Kara said quietly, "I will wreck your lab."

Sometimes he missed being able to shoot lasers out of his forehead.

"You don't ever turn your back on your team." she insisted. "How long has this been going on? Even if the League kicked me out, if I got a call like that one, I'd be back in a second. They need you, Querl. And more than that, they want you to come back."

The green-skinned teen leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. "Fine," he said at last, sitting forward and bringing his tablet to bear, "I'll see what they want." His fingers pattered against the plasma screen, typing faster than most people could read, and then he handed it over to Kara. "Give this to Abel. Tell him to document everything he does and send it directly to me."

"Thanks, Brainy." said Kara, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Please don't call me that." he replied, rising. "And if Quantum Calculus starts giving you trouble again, don't hesitate to call."

She regarded him critically, leaning back and kicking her feet. "Like there aren't a hundred other people who could help with that class."

"Perhaps," said Querl, with a quietly amused backwards glance, "but I doubt any of them have built as many warp drives as I have."

"Get out of here," Kara laughed, eyes sparkling, "before I laser your butt."

"You supers are all the same." he replied with a smile. "Violence is first to resolve every conflict." Suddenly his demeanor changed, and he lingered in the doorway, eyes downcast. "Kara, if you don't hear from me for a few days. . . ."

"Don't worry. I got connections in the League. We've got your back."

"The Justice League disbanded over nine centuries ago." he replied, then looked up at her worriedly, like a frightened animal. "But thank you."

And without a further word, he departed.

Cosmic Boy entered the main room of Legion Headquarters, ducking instinctively when a shower of sparks exploded just over his head.

"How's it coming?" he asked, leaning on the control panel just next to Lightning Lad's arm.

The redhead sighed. "I don't know. He still hasn't answered."

Cosmic Boy stared at the readouts and shook his head. "Wait another two hours. We'll have Chameleon Boy try next."

"What if. . . ."

"What?"

"What if he doesn't answer? What if he doesn't come? What do we do then? We're like sitting ducks down here!"

He put a hand on Lighting Lad's metal shoulder. "He'll come." he said. "Don't lose hope just yet."

"It's just . . . we haven't even heard from him in almost a year."

"I know."

They were interrupted by the loud swoosh of the bridge doors opening. Cosmic Boy turned to see a pudgy, grease-stained Legionnaire standing just inside the threshold. "Ah, Bouncing Boy. How are the engines?"

"Ruined!" he cried in despair, throwing his hands up. "I can't work with this! The whole place is a complete mess. And now Computo's throwing another one of his tantrums, and I can't get anything done." He stumped over to Lightning Lad's other side and gazed at the panel. "Still nothing?"

The founders shook their heads. "Nothing. He won't even answer our calls."

"Guys, I hate to even suggest this, but . . . what if he never answers? What are we going to do?"

Cosmic Boy sighed. "The same thing we always do, Bouncing Boy. The best we can."

He could tell the ship was a wreck long before he ever got to it. She was sitting in her concrete bay like a drowned fish, heat shields scored and blackened, whole panels missing from her sides, her left rudder crumpled like an accordion. He parked quickly and perfectly at the port side of the hulking wreck, then sat at the quiet controls of his pod and stared.

It wasn't just how he had remembered it. He remembered it full of life, in the midst of a huge party at the initiation of Kell-El. He remembered sneaking away through the back door when no one was looking, because he couldn't bear to meet their eyes. He remembered it whole and beautiful, a shining tower of virtue in a chaotic world.

It seemed the chaos had finally come to Legion Headquarters. The walls were darkened with soot, and there was a large hole in one of the upper stories. Querl sighed and put a hand to his head. If it looked this bad on the outside, he could only imagine the inside.

Querl took out his personal communicator and typed a short message back to Kara.

Arrived in one piece. Can't say the same for Headquarters.

He gathered his single duffel bag of belongings and let down the exit stairs. The smell hit him powerfully―concrete, electrical smoke, fresh-welded metal, and just a hint of the ozone tang of laser cannon. It was hot outside, and unseasonably humid. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and walked down the steps with his head held high, although his eyes darted nervously back and forth. The bay was empty and still, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when an unfavorable gust of wind teased loose one of the ship's panels and sent it clanging to the ground.

As he approached the main entrance, he could hear the sounds of bustling within. The smell of electrical smoke was stronger here, and half of the front stair had been crushed under some massive impact. He took a deep breath, braced himself, and pushed the doors open.

The room was like a kicked anthill. Bluish smoke hung over everything, and sparks jetted periodically from gaping wounds in the terminals around the walls. The noise was loud enough to cover his entry, but when he dropped his bag it made a clang that echoed all the way to the center of the earth. The room slowed and stopped, as though caught in amber.

"Brainy?" said Chameleon Boy, his voice small and distant in that frozen room. Large green eyes stared at Querl, wide, disbelieving. He wanted to run. He had never wanted to turn and run so badly in his entire life, and yet he stood, still and uncaring as a statue under the onslaught of stares.

"I . . ." he said, finding that the words stuck uncomfortably in his throat. Don't look at their faces, it won't help, he thought, then swallowed carefully and tried speaking again. "I'm back."

"You . . . actually came." Bouncing Boy said, moving slowly forward through the staring Legionnaires. "I can't believe it. You actually came!"

Querl coughed politely and looked at the floor just over his own left shoulder. "I was encouraged to do so by a friend of mine. Rather forcibly."

"Who cares why!" Cam cried suddenly, bounding across the room and embracing Querl around the middle so tightly it knocked the breath out of him. "Dude, we thought you were dead!"

If the silence before had been bad, the one following Cam's exclamation was terrifying.

"Cam," Lightning Lad said softly, taking a step forward, one hand outstretched, "lay off, man."

But Querl had ceased paying attention, staring in horror at the remains of Computo, which stood in the center of the room like the tower of a medieval ruin. He gently brushed Cam away and took a hesitant step forward.

"My . . . computer," he said brokenly, gaping at the gutted silicon beast before him. "What did you do to my computer?"

Most of the room took a covert step backwards, leaving only Bouncing Boy, Cam, and Lightning Lad in the danger zone.

"Okay, Brainy," Bouncing Boy said placatingly, "so I might have tried to fix it when it started acting up." He cringed, half expecting lasers to shoot out of the glaring eyes that turned upon him. "Hey, nobody else had any idea how to fix it. Shrinking Violet went in and told me what the situation was―"

"Bouncy," Querl warned, fists clenching, "what did you do to my computer?"

"I . . . I . . ."

"He just said, man." Cam interjected, placing himself carefully between Querl and the other Legionnaires. "He tried to fix it. Didn't work out. I was gonna take a crack at it, but he said that was a bad idea, seeing as you'd be back soon and could fix it yourself."

"That's not what I said!" Bouncing Boy objected. "I told you not to even look at it in case you made it worse!"

"Would everyone―please―just shut up." Querl said. Everyone shut up. "I'm going to need wire clippers, a soldering iron, and every last hex wrench we own." he instructed quietly. "Bouncing Boy, since you broke it, you're going to help me fix it. Everyone else, get out."

Legionnaires scattered like frightened birds, except for Bouncing Boy, who stood, shamefaced, shoulders tense, as Querl strode past him to the massive terminal. Within moments the blonde, green-skinned teen was torso-deep in the workings of the machine, cursing under his breath.

"Bouncing Boy, where are those wire cutters?" he snapped.

"Oh! Gimme a just a sec." He swelled into a ball and gathered himself for a mighty bounce.

"And Bouncy?" Querl said, more quietly this time. "I'm . . . glad you called."

Bouncing Boy grinned to himself. "Legion's best wire-cutters, coming right up!" he cried, and rocketed away.

Cocooned in the whirring innards of Computo's main tower, Querl smirked. "And if you so much as mention improvising, I'm firing you," he commented softly, then took hold of a bundle of wires and yanked.

Saturn Girl, Lightning Lad, and Cosmic Boy all stood in one of the branching hallways that led to the main room, looking covertly in on the proceedings.

Lightning Lad shook his head. "I can't believe he really came back. Just totally out of the blue like that!"

Saturn Girl smiled gently. "It's good to see him back to work. I was worried he wouldn't be able to cope with these surroundings again so soon after."

"'Soon?'" said Cosmic Boy. "It's been eleven months."

"And if he hasn't dealt with it, it may as well have been yesterday." Saturn Girl replied coldly. "Time doesn't heal wounds you keep hidden."

"Can you check on him?" Cosmic Boy asked. "Just a quick scan, to see if he's . . . how he's doing."

She shook her head. "You know I don't do that. Why would you even ask?"

Lightning Lad put a hand on her arm. "This is important, Saturn Girl. I know it goes against your morals, but we have to know. If he isn't stable, I want to know right now, before anything . . . happens."

"What's going to happen?" Saturn Girl snapped. "He'll leave? And you know what he'll do if he catches me probing his mind? He'll leave anyway. We can either trust him or force his hand. I can guarantee you, if you pick the second option, you'll never see him again."

"Please." Cosmic Boy said. "I know the risks involved."

"I don't think you do." she replied, poking him in the chest with one gloved finger. "He probably doesn't even trust himself anymore. Do you know what it'll do to him, if he thinks we don't trust him either?"

"But . . ." Lightning Lad said, rubbing his neck, "we don't."

"That's not the point."

"Saturn Girl, this is no longer a request." Cosmic Boy said, brows drawn together. "It's an order."

"Fine." she retorted. "But don't say I didn't tell you so."

This is a mess, Querl thought, yanking out another handful of wires. Bouncy may as well have blown it up. It might be easier to start from scratch than to fix it.

Just like me and the Legion.

Twelve capacitors later and he still hasn't gotten the voltage right. I know invertebrates with better electrical sense than Bouncing Boy.

Where's the white wire? It needs all six wires to function.

It's like spaghetti. A giant, cylindrical tube of spaghetti.

Ah, an analogy. I'll have to note that down when I get a chance. Definite signs of imagination developing.

Days like this I wish I were still a robot. What I wouldn't give for infrared right now. . . .

Look at this. Just look at it. It's like a Corballian wire-worm got in here. I'll have to speak with Cam about keeping pets.

Speaking. Could be problematic.

Upon reflection, Kara was probably flirting with me again. Perhaps An was right, and I ought to devote more time to the issue.

I still haven't heard from Abel. I wonder if he's holding off on the neuro-transmittance testing until I get back.

Hello, Saturn Girl.

The sudden coalition of twelve separate trains of thought into the single greeting was almost nauseatingly sudden. Saturn Girl made a face and leaned against Lightning Lad. She saw herself sitting in a small, well-lit room, looking across a black table at Brainiac 5. The walls were dark, and Coluan symbols scrawled down them like rain washing down glass.

"Hello, Brainy," she replied. He had obviously made this room inside his head for her. It was a conference room, where their telepathic avatars conversed like they were the real things.

"I assume Cosmic Boy asked you to probe my mind in search of any lingering instabilities?"

"Yes." There was no point in lying to him. Even if he wasn't a telepath, he could read his fellow Legionnaires with chilling accuracy.

"And? What have you found?"

"Nothing that worries me. Nothing I didn't expect."

"I must admit, I'm impressed. A few of the telepaths at the university attempted to probe my mind." A hint of amusement crept into his voice. "They stopped after the third one threw up."

"I'm sorry about this, Brainy."

"Why? It was the logical decision for Cosmic Boy to make, and you were the logical person to carry it out."

"I know you want us to trust you."

"Correct. And I'm also fully aware that you don't, and you shouldn't. I would be concerned if you did. Please don't feel guilty, Saturn Girl. I'm willing to fully cooperate with the Legion on any matter of security."

"I'm not talking about security, Brainy. I'm talking about you. How you feel about all of this."

"Don't be concerned. I'm fine. Really."

"I'm sorry, but I only counted eleven trains of thought earlier. Is there something you're keeping hidden back there?"

"What? No, of course not. I expect you were disoriented. If you'll excuse me, Saturn Girl, this requires rather more concentration than I anticipated."

"Of course."

She broke the psychic connection and shook her head slowly.

"Well?" said Cosmic Boy. His voice crashed against her ears, strange and grating after the peaceful quiet of thought.

"He won't leave. Not yet." Saturn Girl said.

"Well that's a relief." Lightning Lad said.

"Even though it would be best for him if he did." she continued. "He's hiding something. Not just from me, but from himself, too. I'm worried being here will break it loose."

"And . . . that's bad?" Lightning Lad asked.

"It could be." she answered. "It could be nothing. Or, it could be very, very bad."

"For us, or for him?" Cosmic Boy inquired.

Saturn Girl shook her head. "I think I need to lie down. I forgot how tiring it is, trying to keep up with him."

"Go ahead." Cosmic Boy said. "Lightning Lad, go with her. And when you've done that, get Chameleon Boy."

"If you're putting us on ninja duty again―"

"I'm not. And it wasn't ninja duty, I just asked you to keep an eye on him. Just get Cam and report back here as soon as possible."

"Right." said Lightning Lad, putting his organic arm around Saturn Girl's shoulders. "You wanna talk about it?" he asked her quietly.

"Not even." she replied.

"Bouncing Boy!" Querl called. "Where's that oxyacetylene torch?"

"Sorry!" came the reply. "I can't find it."

Querl scowled. "It should be in the tool cabinet, under 'O.'"

"Oh." said Bouncing Boy. "Um, about the tool cabinet. . . ."

He sighed. "It's broken too, isn't it."

"Well, not quite. It kind of got scattered. I haven't gotten around to putting it back in order. There's been a lot to do around here."

Tapping one foot in annoyance, Querl muttered under his breath, "This wouldn't have been an issue a year ago. A year ago I could have used my own torch and been done with this half an hour ago."

"I'll . . . go look again." Bouncing Boy said. "What do you want me to do if I can't find it?"

"Get the adamantium jigsaw, if you can. If not, get Sun Boy and see if he remembers how to weld."

"Um." said Bouncing Boy. "I'll find the jigsaw."

"Why?" Querl said, pushing himself out from under Computo's hulking form and sitting up. His face was smeared with silicate goo and his hands had gone grey with the stuff. "Is Sun Boy out on business?"

"Uh, yeah." Bouncing Boy said, inflating. "Business. Yeah." He bounced off as quickly as he could, ricocheting erratically down the hallways.

"Someone is not telling me something." Querl said darkly. "And they should know better." He wiped his hair off his forehead with his wrist, then wriggled back into Computo's innards, eleven tracks of his mind whirring away.

And the twelfth sat perfectly still, dark and breathing; silent, as though trying not to be seen.