Adrift on a Quantum Ocean

Wanda Maximoff's long battle with depression had brought her to the Center for Neuropsychiatric Research and Treatment in Manhattan. Researchers there hoped to study the effects that using her power had on her brain. Was magic equivalent to a drug?

Lying on a flat recliner, with a therapist seated alongside in a small exam room, Wanda tried to sense her power, to talk to it, to urge it to slowly well up. The idea that magic was hurting her had resulted in fear that she was unable to shake, however. Had learning witchcraft been a mistake? Had coming to America been a mistake? Had thinking that she could ever have children with a synthezoid been proof of insanity?

Wanda tried to rid herself of her wild thoughts and to concentrate on her task, but she found herself thinking that if her magic was good for anything, it would get her out of the situation she was in, and fix all her problems in one fell swoop. As if in response to her thought, she felt her power surge within her, and she disappeared.

For a magical moment, Wanda Maximoff existed in q-space as a hundred bits, spread among a hundred universes. A lifetime elapsed in each of them, until they collapsed upon themselves. Wanda reformed, responding to her children's cries for attention. The moment she and the children occupied stretched, further and further, until it, too, ended, separating Wanda from her children again.

.

The transition back from q-space was as sudden as her departure, leaving Wanda uncertain what had happened. Had she fallen asleep? She opened her eyes, only to find the room dark. "Wha-? Anyone here?" As she got up from the recliner, lights came on and a recording began to play. "Stay calm. Medical assistance is coming. Do not be alarmed. Medical assistance is coming." The short recording, in a soft, feminine voice repeated and the red-emergency?-lights stayed on.

Still wondering what was going on, Wanda stepped out into the hallway, only to find it unlit. Lights at the end of the hallway provided just enough illumination for her to see the doors of exam rooms and offices. They were locked. She made her way to the lobby, and stopped. "Huh?" The furniture looked different, somehow. Chairs were in different places. And it was dark outside, although her appointment had been at 1:30 pm. "This. . . makes no sense." Was she in another dimension? Another timeline? She had her watch, but her purse, with her cards and phone- She went back down the hallway to the exam room, which was empty except for the recliner she'd been on. The recording was still playing. "Do not be alarmed," the voice repeated.

Wanda went back to the lobby and sat down on a comfy, padded chair. So. She had on a white T-shirt and black yoga pants, her watch, which insisted the time was 1:40 pm, and nothing else. The front doors were locked. She could get out through a fire exit door, but then what? The recording that had begun playing when she got up made no sense unless it meant that people were coming. Best to wait for them, whoever they were, and find out from them what was going on.

The minutes dragged by, one by one. But eventually, an SUV with POLICE emblazoned on the side pulled up to the clinic. Four men and one female EMT got out and approached the door. Wanda waved. The EMT waved back.

"Oh, it's a relief to see you! The situation is so confusing. . ." The group unlocked the clinic doors and entered the lobby.

"We're here to help you, ma'am," an officer replied. His badge identified him as a Lt. Mitchell. He was gruff in appearance, and fiftyish. "If you could please identify yourself?"

"I don't have my purse," Wanda replied. "My I.D.s and phone were in it. But I'm Wanda Maximoff. An Avengers reservist-"

"That's what we expected," Mitchell stated. "And your appearance matches our records. You'll have to come with us, though. You're going to get an exam."

"An exam? But-Wanda sighed. "I know that something strange happened. It should be Tuesday afternoon, and it's not."

"Nope," another officer said. "You disappeared about three years ago, Ms. Maximoff, and haven't been seen till now."

"Three years? Years?! I-I think I need to sit down." Wanda attempted to collect her scattered thoughts. What all could have happened in three years? "Um, could I- Uh, could you call someone for me? I have a brother, Pietro Maximoff. . ."

Mitchell asked her to spell the name, which he typed into his phone. After a minute, he informed her that Pietro had disappeared last year, a week into a trip to a microverse, and was thought to be dead.

"Oh, no." They hadn't been friendly; Wanda had decided that he was probably a sociopath, and someone to be avoided, but the news still shook her. "What about Simon Williams? Also known as Wonder Man."

"The actor?" He consulted his phone again. "Dead. Died in an antimatter explosion about a year and a half ago."

"No. Oh, dammit." Simon had been thought dead before, and had come back, since energy couldn't be destroyed, but he had been worried about encountering antimatter. "What-what about the Vision? The synthezoid Avenger?" Surely he was still alive. . .

"The Vision? He insisted on the recording and alert system being set up. Shoulda been notified automatically."

"Thank heavens." A wave of relief washed over her. He could help her get through this. "Could you call him for me?"

"Maybe. But he should be at the Quick Care shop we're taking you to." He checked with another officer, Suarez, who confirmed that. "Let's go, Ms. Maximoff." The recording continued to repeat, down the hallway.

"Ah, should that be shut off?" Wanda asked.

"The Neuropsychiatric people can do that when they come in. Let's go," he repeated.

Wanda wondered why the P.D. had sent five people, but decided not to ask. She was sure she wouldn't like the answer.

The trip to the Times Square Quick Care Clinic was quick. The two-story facility was open 24 hours a day, but even in NYC, there weren't many people needing medical assistance between midnight and 6 am. Once they were inside, Wanda looked for Vizh. Spotting him should be easy, she thought, even in a crowd. And she did spot his yellow cape. The Avenger, her ex-husband, was talking to a technician.

"Let's get you checked in," Mitchell said. "They have a CAT scan to do."

"A CAT scan? Why?"

"DHS policy, Ms. Maximoff." The young, African-American agent, Johnson, had been silent till now. "You could have explosives or other harmful devices inside you that you wouldn't even know about. If you were abducted."

Abducted? The thought was shocking. "I don't. . ." She stopped, suddenly uncertain.

"That's right. You don't know," another agent, Hansen, told her. "There could be alien eggs, ready to hatch, or a miniature nuke, ready to explode. We have to find out."

"Agents, please." The Vision's deep, loud voice commanded attention. "You have your jobs to do, but please respect this woman. If not for her heroic efforts, you'd all be dead, several times over."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Hansen conceded. "But a nuke could blow up the entire city!"

"Mr. Hansen, you seem to be unfamiliar with recent developments. Current pocket scanners can detect the radiation emitted by your miniaturized nuclear bombs, even when they're embedded in bones."

"Oh."

That argument having ended, a technician took Wanda to the CAT scan room, where it was completed in a matter of minutes. While everyone waited for computer analysis of the images to finish, the Quick Care receptionist asked Wanda if she had her insurance card with her.

"Insurance? You mean I'm going to be billed for this?"

"I'm afraid so. If you don't have insurance, the cost will be $459."

"Uggh!" Wanda was at a loss for words, but then Vizh ended his conversation with Mitchell, and gave the receptionist a card. "Here's Ms. Maximoff's Total Health insurance information."

"Oh, Vizh, thank you. Thank you!"

The results of the CAT scan analysis soon came out. She was clean, apparently, but DHS policies still dictated that she be put on a threat list for a year, and that she avoid being within 1000 feet of any high-ranking federal official for the same time period, since abduction and hard-to-detect alteration couldn't be ruled out. After she signed forms acknowledging the warnings, she was free to leave.

Once the two were outside and safely out of earshot, Wanda erupted. "Gods! I never want to see those bastards again!" Her hands were clenched into fists, her face drawn tight with anger. "They treated me like a criminal!"

"Fortunately, there is no apparent reason why you should have to see them again. Even if you were to sue over the proximity ban-"

"Oh, I'm going to sue all right! I'll go to the ACLU, file a complaint. . ." She sighed, and her facial muscles relaxed. "But I can't do that now." She waved at the dark sky above. "Right now, I just want to find a bed and go to sleep!"

"The Avengers complex should have rooms open."

"No, that's not somewhere I want to go when I'm like this. I just want to crash, and not deal with questions. From anybody."

Vizh pulled a smartphone out of his shoulder bag and fiddled with it for a couple of minutes. "The Chamberlain Hotel has rooms-$80 per night-and it's only a block away."

"That's good enough!"

So they walked down the street to the Chamberlain. Few people were on the street at 3 am, and those who passed by the couple remained silent. Vizh wanted to talk to Wanda, if only to get some information on her strange absence, but he knew from experience that when she was angry, the anger flowed out.

Wanda had thought that checking in would be routine, but then remembered that she had no address, no phone number, no I.D.s. "Vizh, I'm sorry. Could you help me out?"

They checked in together, and went up to Room 311, with two beds. "Vizh, you're such a dear! If you hadn't been there-! I might be in federal custody right now!"

After looking around the hotel room for a couple of minutes, Wanda had had enough. "There's going to be so much to do in the next day or two, but I can't do it now." She began to undress. As she pulled off her top, she told Vizh, "I don't need a nightgown now, but I will. And underwear-could you buy me some panties, nightgown, and a change of clothing? You remember my size, right?"

"Of course," he replied. "They'll be here when you get up."

"Thank you," she murmured as she finished undressing and got into bed. She had experience with catnaps as an Avenger, and also was familiar with going to sleep as an escape, to try to avoid dealing with a problem she didn't know how to solve. At the moment, she didn't care-she just wanted to fall asleep.

Her sleep was restless. Several times she awoke, with a panicky feeling that she didn't know where she was, or that something had happened, only to find herself still in bed, still in the hotel room.

At 11 in the morning, she finally got up. Her mind had been churning while she slept, she knew, but she couldn't recall what she had been thinking, or worrying, about.

Eleven am-Wanda looked at the door and saw a sign that the checkout time was 11. "Drat! Another $160!" The clothes she'd asked Vizh to get were lying on the desk, along with a bag of toiletries. He had known what she needed. The warm glow of that affection lifted her spirits while she showered and dressed, putting on the red polo shirt and white shorts Vizh had bought her.

There was a knock on the door. "Wanda? Are you up yet?"

"Yes! I'm presentable. Just a minute-!"

She slipped on her shoes and opened the door, to find Vizh, clad in a white buttoned shirt and black pants, accompanied by a red-skinned female synthezoid she didn't know. Dressed in a silvery satin top and black skirt, with dark chocolate-brown hair flowing down her back, she looked spectacular. Her body, Wanda realized, appeared to be almost identical to hers.

"Wanda? I'd like to introduce my wife, Wanda."

His wife? Wanda? Had she heard him correctly? "Ah, this-this is a surprise." Wanda backed up to the bed and sat down.

The female synth approached her, smiling warmly. "I'm delighted that you're back, and okay. From what I've heard, you're in a tough situation, but I can help you get through it."

"Yes, I had a stressful night. And I didn't sleep very well. And I guess I have three years of history to catch up on. But-why is your name Wanda?" She looked at the two synths questioningly.

"Because I am you. More or less," the other Wanda responded.

"How-? I'm sorry, but I guess I need an explanation. This is confusing."

Vizh sat on the bed beside her, while the other Wanda looked on calmly. "Wanda. Remember that data package you gave me some time ago? With your brain patterns in it?"

"Sure. I think you used them to bring Virginia to life. Which was okay," she added. "But those were just brain patterns."

"When the data is used as brain patterns," Vizh told her. "But the data can be used as more than that."

He proceeded to explain the differences between engrams and brain patterns-how brain patterns could be used to install preferences for types of things in a personality matrix, but without the specificity that engrams' personal memories and experiences provided.

"Remember Jocasta and Alkhema? They had Jan's and Bobbie's personalities. In a superficial sense. But they weren't Jan and Bobbie, just as I have Simon's personality, superficially. But I'm not Simon."

"Okay. I understand that," Wanda told him. "Thanks for not going into technical details. But-if you could use that data to bring this Wanda to life, why create Virginia?"

"Hardware and software limitations, in part," he replied. "But more importantly, using your engrams without your permission would have been like cloning you without your permission."

"That makes sense. But Wanda is here now because-?"

"Because after two years of you missing without a trace, I feared the worst might have happened, and I had the means to bring you back to life. So I used it."

Wanda sat silently for minutes. "I. . . guess I didn't know you still felt that way about me."

Vizh hugged her tightly. "I've always loved you, (periods of mental incoherence aside, he thought) and I always will." He released her and stood up.

"So now?" Wanda asked.

"So now-" He stopped, and his body jerked slightly. After some seconds, his mouth worked silently. Then he sighed. "A situation has arisen in the Pacific that the Avengers are responding to. Mountains forming a ring around the Hawaiian Islands. I have to go."

"Do what you have to, honey," his wife responded. "We'll be fine."

"See you later," he reassured them as he rose through the ceiling and vanished from sight.

The two women looked at each other for a minute. "Vizh. . . got pretty emotional there," Wanda M. observed.

Wanda V. chuckled. "He gets more emotional than that! Vizh doesn't purge anymore."

"He doesn't? I thought emotions caused problems. . ."

"That was a software problem. Prioritization schemes, Vizh told me. So, he tells me what he feels now."

"And me." Wanda M., still sitting on the bed, looked up at Wanda V., who was at the door. "Uh. . . Vizh telling me he still loves me. . . and always will. . . That doesn't bother you?"

"No." The response was immediate. "Vizh loves both of us. I'm fine with that." She opened the door. "You've got your bag?"

One bag. All Wanda M. had right now. "Yes."

"Then let's get going. There are things to do."

Outside the hotel, there was a loading zone. Wanda V. reached into her bag, brought out what appeared to be a toy car, and set it on the asphalt. "Car, enlarge," she said to her phone. Within a few seconds, the toy car transformed into a full-sized red SUV. Embedded Pym particles, Wanda V. told the astonished Wanda M.

"Get in," Wanda V. instructed. "I'll take the driver's seat. Though I don't actually drive it."

"You don't?"

"No. This is self-driving. And the onboard PC has a city map, so I just tell the car where to go."

Once they were seated and strapped in, Wanda V. said, "Might as well get the banking business out of the way first, right?"

"Sure."

Wanda V. selected an address on the touch screen monitor in front of her. "To US Bank, Chaff." And they were off.

Wanda M. learned that during her disappearance, Vizh had taken over her account and handled bill payments. Her apartment lease had been completed, and the amount owed on her bed set had been paid off.

"You bought a bed set on an installment plan?" Wanda V. asked. "I was amazed!"

"It was on sale," the defensive response came. "And I needed a really comfortable bed."

"Well, you own it now." Although the bed, like the rest of Wanda M.'s possessions, had been miniaturized and was stored at Wanda V.'s house.

"Only $720.41." That was all she had left in her accounts. "That. . . doesn't let me do much."

"No, it doesn't," her companion responded, as they left the bank and got back into the SUV. "I would have wanted to just pick up where I left off too, but that's not doable."

"So. . ." Wanda M. muttered to herself. "I need an address, money. . . money. . ."

Wanda V, handed her a Visa card. "Take this. It's a $150 gift card you can use for small things. And I'm going to get you some new clothes."

"Huh? I have clothes. . ."

"From what I saw when I was going through them, your wardrobe is old and outdated. We could give 80 to 90 percent of it to Goodwill and not miss it."

"Oh," Wanda M. said in a low voice. "I guess. . . that the last few times I shopped for clothes, I went to the clearance racks. All I really wanted were things to wear when I wasn't in my costume."

"Good. Good! Let's start from scratch and get you some outfits that are stylish. Where do you want to go?"

"Costco. I have a membership there."

"Had a membership. It's expired. They sent five renewal notices." Wanda V. started her vehicle. "But we have to get going, or we'll get a ticket. Let's go to Bloomingdale's first."

Shopping for clothes turned out to be easier than Wanda M. had expected, after she found out that going with her gut reaction was okay. Frills, bows, large buttons, horizontal stripes, prints, all the tops that had those things turned her off. And when she tried on tops with breast-exposing cuts, she discovered that the idea of wearing those around civilians made her uneasy.

"Am I comfortable in my costume because I like showing off my breasts, or because the men expect me to?"

"Good question," was the reply.

Posing for Wanda V. as she took pictures turned out to be fun-better than critically examining herself in a mirror. And Wanda V. was right: put on a good outfit, and she looked darn good in it, even without makeup or hair styling.

After going to Bloomingdale's and Macy's, Wanda M. wound up with five outfits, four pullover tops, two jackets, and five pairs of dressy jeans, which Wanda V. loved. "You can wear those almost anywhere! Casual chic," she declared.

Wanda M. didn't look at the price tags, and Wanda V. didn't tell her how much they all cost. If her sister-thinking of her as something else was already becoming hard-wanted to help her out, Wanda M. would let her.

After sticking their purchases in the SUV, Wanda V. asked, "Want to take a break and get some food?"

"Sure, but-you eat?"

"Yes! I don't have to eat, but I can enjoy a gourmet meal as much as anyone else. And I don't waste money on junk food."

A small cafe with outdoor seating was just down the street. Wanda V. got a large peach and orange smoothie; Wanda M. got a fruit salad. Wanda M. watched the synth get a powder packet out of her bag and empty it into her smoothie.

"What's that?"

"A protein supplement I take for my hair and skin. This packet happens to be strawberry-flavored."

"You mean. . . Your skin and hair are alive?!"

"Oh! I guess Vizh didn't cover synthetic DNA." She explained to her amazed companion that her hair and skin were composed of non-replicating cells that had lifetimes of years. "So, all I have to do is maintain the cells with these supplements. The hair grows if I want it to, which is how it got this long, but otherwise, the supplements just repair split ends."

"I wouldn't have guessed. . . That's why your skin and hair are so beautiful?"

"I guess so. Thanks. I have gotten a couple of calls from hairdressers wanting to style these locks, but I've turned them down. Growing the hair takes work, and my hair reacts badly to chemical treatments. No dye jobs for me!"

As they were finishing their food, a young, bearded man approached them. "Hey, Wanda. Sorry I didn't get to the fundraiser last Friday!"

"Oh, hi, Jeff," Wanda V. replied. "Yes, it was a good one. We raised $58,000!"

"Nice work! See you at the committee meeting on Thursday?"

"Sure! Nice surprise seeing you here."

"What was that about?" Wanda M. asked, after Jeff left.

"Oh, we're both involved with the Virginia Anti-Discrimination Alliance, or VADA. We're both on the steering committee, and I spend around 20 hours a week on alliance business and giving presentations."

"So. . . You have a job."

"Yes. A very rewarding one. Campaigning against discrimination of all types and-my specialty-helping people get used to dealing with AIs." She laughed. "Sorry, but you look like you can't believe what you're hearing."

"Oh. . . It's not that. It's just. . . I've never had a job like that. I'm not sure how I'd do with one. But you're doing just fine."

"I had help. But aside from the help I got from Vizh and Viv, this body gives me an inner peace I never had before. I know I can learn new things."

They finished their meals and disposed of the trash.

"Ready to go?" Wanda V. asked.

"Almost. See that Walgreens across the street?" Wanda M. gestured toward it. "I want to get a couple of things there. It'll just take a minute. . ."

She took off, jaywalking across the street without looking back.

"No need to hurry, Wanda. We're not that pressed for time."

"I suppose not. I just. . ." Wanda M. hesitated, then entered the store. She picked up a bottle of Listerine, explaining that Vizh hadn't thought of mouthwash, naturally, and then asked a clerk where the massagers were.

Next to the massagers were cylindrical vibrators, in pink and black. Wanda M. picked up a pink one. "I know this isn't a necessity," she said sheepishly, "but I don't know where, exactly, I left my old one, and. . ."

"That's okay. If you want it, get it."

Wanda M.'s face had started to redden, but the tint quickly faded. She bought the things with her Visa card, and they left the store.

Back inside the SUV, Wanda V. asked, "Any other stores you want to go to?"

"No, I think I'm done shopping for the day."

"Okay. Hamilton Shoes, a couple of blocks away, has some new Laurel Beckett strappy high heels that I want to try on."

"What? You wear high heels?"

"I know that we didn't wear them, but I can wear them without any problems, and they look great!"

In front of the store, Wanda V. had shrunken the SUV and just put in her bag when an unshaven, scruffy man approached her from behind and pressed an object into her back. "Give me the bag, lady, and you won't be hurt."

Wanda V. reacted immediately, turning her body diamond-hard. She reached back without looking, sensed that her intangible left hand had penetrated the mugger's body, and solidified it, hissing "Idiot!"

The mugger grunted weakly and collapsed. That was easy, Wanda V. thought as she turned and looked down at her assailant. Observers were clustering.

Wanda M. turned the unconscious man over. "He doesn't seem to be breathing." She felt his left wrist. "Wanda, there's no heartbeat!"

"Shit! Oh, damn him!"

Wanda M. dropped to her knees beside the man. "I'll do CPR!" While she pumped on the fallen man's chest, her sister called for help. By the time a police officer arrived, the assailant had a weak but steady heartbeat.

"Good work, ma'am," the cop told Wanda M.

Wanda V. told the cop that the man had tried to mug her, that she had poked him in the chest, and he'd collapsed. Two witnesses confirmed her account.

After collecting all the names and numbers he needed, the cop told the two women, "You're free to go. If there's a trial, you could be called, but-" They watched as the mugger was put in the ambulance. "He looks like the type of guy who wants to be arrested," the cop said. "Better than being on the street. He didn't even have bullets."

The ladies were soon by themselves again. "Wanda? Want to go into the store?"

"Not anymore," Wanda V. replied. "Let's get out of here."

Back inside the SUV, Wanda V. cursed again. "Shit! Oh, hell. . . I thought I'd practiced with that power enough to use it."

"He was in poor shape," Wanda M. observed. "A healthier man might have just been knocked out."

"Right. But I didn't even think of checking the creep's condition. If he'd just lied there until a cop came. . ." She shuddered. "Let's get you checked out of the hotel and go home."

"All right. Uh, any news from Vizh?"

"He's in Hawaii with the other Avengers. The situation is ongoing. That's all I know at the moment."

They went back to the hotel and turned in the room key. Then they were off.

"The trip should be under four hours," Wanda V. said. "There's a tablet loaded with a Kindle library and games, a portable DVD player with some classics, and two iPods."

She checked her phone. "There's a bunch of e-mail from acquaintances who have heard you're back. Want to see them?"

"I. . . Well, I. . ." Wanda M. sat and thought for a while her eyes closed. "I really don't want to get into having people tell me they're so happy that I'm back, until I know why I left." She sighed. "Otherwise, It'll be way too easy for people to think that crazy Wanda did something crazy again."

"That's reasonable. It'll take a few days to get a daily routine started again. And we can work on getting some info on your medical condition."

"Yes. Is poor Wanda insane? Is her brain damaged? Or is she just depressed?" Wanda M. sank into her seat. "That endless confusion about the kids. Was I already insane when I conceived them? Did I use my power to conceive them and not know it? I still have pictures of those little darlings."

Wanda M. shimmered for an instant, then disappeared.

She seemed to be hanging in space, and had a sensation of being filled with energy. An entity addressed her: Wanda Maximoff, your mind contains universes. You and your children must master them, lest your family's bonds break and your universes consume you all. Magic might be your family's curse, but it is also your family's salvation.

The sensation ended, leaving her hanging in space again. She had experienced telepathic communication before-a voice speaking inside her head-but this time, she had the feeling that the entity spoke from within her, unlike any feeling she'd had before. She could also sense connections to her children. Her children!

Time passed, as she relished the sensation of knowing that her long-lost children were alive. Eventually, she realized that she needed to will herself back into her seat, and did so.

"Gods! You're back!" Wanda V.'s screams were painfully loud. "Ohhh. . ." Wanda V. hugged her sister fiercely, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't know where you'd gone. I didn't know what to do! I was so afraid of losing you!" She buried her face in Wanda M.'s shoulder.

Eventually, Wanda V. regained her composure, released her sister, and returned to her seat. The SUV was pulled off to the side on the highway, but Wanda V. put it in motion again. "Um, what did happen? can you tell me?"

"Sort of. I learned something about magic, though I'm not sure what. But-the kids are alive. Tommy and Billy are alive! And I can go get them."

"Really? The twins are alive? That's. . . just incredible!" Wanda V. was shaking with emotion. "Vizh and I were wondering how to have kids. Viv's in college, and we're too young to be empty-nesters. The twins- But I'm not their mom. You are." In seconds, Wanda V. had gone from joy to dismay.

"That's not a problem. The kids can't have too much love. We'd better contact Stephen, though-he's alive, I hope-!-so he can be on hand when I bring the twins back." She glanced at the speedometer. "65. Can we go faster?"

"No. Not without police authorization. That's a safety feature."

So the two moms would have to wait for hours until their children were back. That gave them time, though, to locate Dr. Strange, who assured them that he could be there in his astral form, and to inform Vizh, who had helped the other Avengers deal with the Hawaiian nationalists who had caused turmoil in the Pacific.

During the rest of their ride, the two Wandas talked about Pietro, Simon, menstruation, feminism, music, dining-but mostly about the kids. By the time they got back to the house, Wanda M. was anxious to bring her children home.

When they arrived, Dr. Strange was waiting for them, his astral form hovering in front of the house. "We should be able to handle any complications," Stephen assured Wanda M. "After all, I am the Sorcerer Supreme."

A short time later, Vizh was back at the house, and they were ready to proceed. "I know how to do it," Wanda M. assured the others. "It's a bit weird, but I just know that I know."

Concentrating, Wanda sensed the magical bond between her and her children and rode it up into space. There the children were, older now, which was right, wearing shirts and shorts like the ones they wore when they disappeared. She had a vague memory of doing many things with them, but she couldn't remember exactly what.

Moving around in q-space was more like dreaming than physically moving, but she was aware of herself taking the hands of her darling children and willing them all back to Earth. They materialized on the front lawn.

"It is them. Really them," Vizh said, awestruck. But they're older. . ."

"Mommy wanted us to be three years older," Tommy informed his father. "That's what she said. But the monsters are still scary."

Monsters? What did he mean by that, Vizh asked himself silently.

Strange had brought forth the Eye of Agamotto and used it to scan the twins. "They are not possessed or transformed, nor are they illusions," Strange soon pronounced. "It's good to have you back, boys."

The two five-year-olds didn't know what to make of the ghostly old man in the funny clothes, but they were thrilled to see their parents again. Vizh picked up both and held them for a long minute. Holding them, feeling the warmth of their bodies-he felt emotions surge that had been dormant for years, and a burst of adoration for the woman who had made those two wonders possible.

Vizh finally put the twins down. Wanda V. was there to take their hands into hers. "You don't know me, but I love you too," she told them. "I'm your. . . Aunt Wanda."

"Auntie Wanda?" Billy asked.

"That's right."

An electrical crackle filled the air. The adults looked at the source of the sound: the air over the street in front of the house. Giant figures materialized and dropped to the surface. At first, the forms were five giant ogres, naked, with swollen genitalia, who bellowed in unison, "We need feed!" Before the adults could react, though, the figures transformed into 12-foot-tall carnivorous dinosaurs, which rushed toward their prey, roaring deafeningly. A battle began.

The writer makes no claims to ownership of any character in this story.

Englehart and King wrote some terrific stories, didn't they?

Steven R. Stahl