-1This chpt took a long time to craft. I'm pleased with it--but not quite satisfied. The local ISP is having budget issues. Consequently, my connection to the 'web is limited. And I'm falling behind on my backlog of email again.

I'll tell you who absolutely rocks at merging KP with mythology--Mattk. His two stories Bleeding Out, and Bleeding Through are epics on a Homeric scale.

This is a continuation of the Halloween series where Ron Possible first encounters Kim Possible and dedicates himself to his Quest.

Based on the stories A Box Of Cuddlebuddies by captainkodak1 and Family Legacy by daccu65.

Ron Possible is a creation of daccu65. Mariko Kansumi is my creation.

All other characters are from Kim Possible, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley.

The statement about "the next frontier" was spoken by President John F. Kennedy.

I have included a reference to the story arc mentioned in my profile, borrowed from MinnesotaMutt as DeviantArt--that of Indiana Jones and Nana Possible being married.

The Tragedy Of Macbeth by William Shakespeare, The Tragical History Of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, and Lost Horizon by James Hilton are taken from the Project Gutenberg website and are in the public domain. I've said it before. That website rules.

A HEROINE'S LEGACY

chpt 10

A tragical history is possible for a Possible

Suzie Sheldon had just gone home. Ron Possible was preparing chicken soup for his grandma Tara for lunch. His big ebook fell open to a certain piece of literature. And it reminded him of another time and place…

Five years previous--at Mt. Yamanouchi.

Mariko Kansumi and Ron Possible had trekked the steep path up Mount Yamanouchi. They were about to proceed--

--But his attention was diverted. There was a sense of déjà vu. He stared long and intently at the spot where his grandfather Ron and his great-aunt Hana splashed in the mountain stream more than sixty years ago. Ron Stoppable was still in high school. Hana was less than a year old. They were on the verge of meeting Monkey Fist and Yono. He knew the story well. He could almost envision them--

--Chills went up and down his spine at what he saw--himself seated at the edge of the stream--in a classic Team Possible mission suit.

A little toddler--a girl--practically an infant--with eyes black and glittering as obsidian. And hair jet black with silken sheen.

The other Ron tickled the toddler. "Who's a boo-bah?"

"Boo-bah!" The little girl giggled. And she held up a hand with her pinkie finger extended. She playfully pushed away the other Ron's hand. "Page," she said.

Ron Possible stared in disbelief. The scene was clear as a holographic audio-video--or real-life. This was Grandpa! And Aunt Hana! On the fateful day--practically the very hour of the confrontation with Yono the Destroyer.

Monty Fiske had made a Faustian bargain with the Mephistophelean being, Yono. He had signed away his soul to gain power. And he had suffered a horrendous fate.

The scene shifted--

It was still the same big-eared freckle-faced blonde-haired boy. But the girl had green eyes like new grass in the spring, and hair as red as a maple tree in the fall. She was noticeably older than the vision of Hana Possible--but not yet an adolescent. He couldn't tell. Was she five? Six? Eight? Wearing pigtails? A ponytail?

The boy scooped her up in his arms and twirled her about. "Aunt Kim--you're free!"

The girl yelped. "Ron! Be careful!" Did she have freckles? Was that a flash of braces on her teeth as she smiled?

They both laughed with supreme joy.

And the vision faded.

Ron was stunned. Kim Possible? As a young preadolescent girl? Ron Stoppable calling her "Aunt Kim"? What did it mean?

"Possible-san?"

Absently, Ron looked up.

Mariko Kansumi stood there, slowly waving her hand in front of his face. "Possible-san? Are you all right? What are you staring at?"

And Ron turned back to face the stream bank. He gawked, dumfounded. The place was empty. "I--I don't know. I thought I saw something."

Mariko laid a hand on his arm. "Come. We're expected."

Ron followed Mariko to the foot of the waterfall. Wedging themselves against the face of the cliff, they inched their way behind the falls. Ron felt the rush of cool air and saw the mouth of the cave.

They entered the cave and made their way through the narrow passage. As the light of the entrance receded behind them, the light of another entrance showed ahead. As they emerged from the channel, Ron gasped at what he saw--.

The men and women of the Possible family were typically ahead of the curve scientifically and socially. After he retired from the Continental Army, Zimm Possible was a frequent guest of Thomas Jefferson in his home at Monticello. They discussed subjects as diverse as the exploration of the western frontier and the application of Leonardo Da Vinci's principles of mechanized human flight. Col. Possible corresponded with Benjamin Franklin regarding the application of electricity and steam as a source of power, to give light and move machinery. He corresponded with Frederick Douglass about abolition of slavery and universal voting rights.

Miriam Possible wrote extensively about the fledgling science of aviation, and the fledgling electrical and automotive industries. She envisioned aircraft circling the globe--piloted by women! This did nothing to lessen Constable Barkin's disdain for her.

James Timothy Possible had grown up on the early days of America's manned space program. He was hardly in grade school when America's young president was assassinated. But a statement that president made about "The next frontier" had shaped his aspirations. So when he grew up, he applied his energies to traversing that great frontier--outer space..

But every few generations, someone entered the Possible family, either by birth or marriage, who was a throwback, an anachronism. Miriam's niece and James Timothy's mother, Em Possible had married an archaeologist, a Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. Their eldest son, Silas Elim, or 'Slim', lived the life of his nineteenth century forbearers, herding horses on a Montana ranch. James Timothy's nephew Larry romanticized about a barbaric sword-and-sorcery past portrayed in fantasy books, comics, and video games. But it was James Timothy's great-grandson and Larry's distant cousin Ron who grew up with his feet planted on the ground of a modern age, but his mind and heart rooted in antiquity. The twin Muses of science and literature each whispered in the boy's two ears.

--And so when Ron's eye fell upon the centuries-old enclosure on Mount Yamanouchi with its pagodas, where was taught the art of the ninjitsu, he felt as Nicholo Polo, and later his son, Marco, must have felt when they beheld the wonders of Kublai Khan's empire. He felt like the westerners who gazed upon a mountain paradise untouched by violence.

…It might have been a vision fluttering out of that solitary rhythm in which lack of oxygen had encompassed all his faculties. It was, indeed, a strange and half-incredible sight. A group of colored pavilions clung to the mountainside with…the chance delicacy of flower petals impaled upon a crag. It was superb and exquisite. An austere emotion carried the eye upward from milk-blue roofs to the gray rock bastion above, …Beyond that, in a dazzling pyramid, soared the snow slopes of Karakal. It might well be…the most terrifying mountainscape in the world, and he imagined the immense stress of snow and glacier against which the rock functioned as a gigantic retaining wall.

He stared, spellbound. "Shangri-La," he murmured.

Mariko smiled slyly. "My mother tells me your grandfather was likewise as awestruck, Possible-san--if not as eloquent."

Have you read Lost Horizons, Kansumi-san," asked Ron.

"Yes."

He continued to stare. " 'Blue Moon had taken him, and there was no escape. The mountains gleamed around in a hedge of inaccessible purity…the green depths of the valley…the harpsichord's silver monotony across the lotus pool...' " Shaking his head, he glanced at Mariko and smiled bashfully. "Sorry--just think aloud."

Mariko stared at Ron. "Do you memorize entire books, Possible-san?"

His smile became even more bashful. "Well--no. Just the parts I like."

Mariko suppressed a tremble and took a breath to calm herself. She had lost count of the young men the world over who had made advances on her, as she accompanied her father on missions. He would frown, but he trusted her. Broad shoulders and square jaws held little appeal for her.

But this shy, gawky boy moved her heart without trying--as easily as the mountaintop gusts of wind tousled their hair.

They began to cross the seemingly frail rope bridge. It swayed in the wind.

Ron cast a glance into the deep chasm. "My grandfather had a few fears--but heights wasn't one of them. He could parachute without a qualm."

Mariko glanced out of the corner of her eye. "And you?"

He nodded noncommittally. "Well--maybe that's something I can grow out of while I'm here."

At the other end awaited an elderly couple. Ron knew at once who they were.

Mariko clambered on the bridge ahead toward them. "Mom! Dad!"

Ron noticed Mariko was courteous with him, after the manner of the traditional Japanese way, and more casual with her parents, after the manner of the contemporary American way. He must try to learn what was proper with the faculty and student body of the academy--and with the young lady.

The man was dressed in a dark gi. He had Mariko's wild unruly hair--except it was white as snow. "Daughter!" he said sharply. "Remember your decorum."

Mariko stopped. "Yes, my father," she said, in a demure voice. She bowed to the couple. They bowed back. And then they opened their arms, and with a happy yelp, she jumped into their embrace.

The woman was dressed in a bright red caftan. Her bobbed hair was salt-and-pepper--and she wore a red ribbon. She had Mariko's nose and chin. And Ron could see immediately why his grandfather's affection was immediately seized. She had her daughter's nose, mouth, and chin--and fetching almond eyes. Even at this age, she was still a ravishing beauty.

He stepped off the bridge. He had intended to greet them with all the solemnity that proper etiquet required. It was customary to remove one's shoes and ask a sensei's permission before entering a dojo. He removed one shoe--and promptly stumbled and fell trying to remove the other shoe.

Mariko and her mother tried to hold it back--but they both collapsed into helpless laughter.

Even Hirotaka could not suppress a smirk. He addressed his old friend in his heart. Oh, Stoppable-san--the stain of tragedy seeps deeply into the walls of your house. All of us are saddened. Yet you send us this excellent young man to lift our hearts with his American-style clumsiness. The gods bless you, my brother, as you sleep with your fathers. It will be our honor to teach him all we know of our poor knowledge.

Ron had hoped to indulge his sense of formal ceremony and act with a certain pageantry and solemnity. But obviously the Stoppable influence--the essential Ron-ness--was too strong. Oh, well--as St. Paul says--pride goes before the fall. Obviously, it was his karma to spread Ron-shine wherever he went. He got back up on his feet and brushed off his pants. He grinned goofily and bowed. "An unworthy student begs leave to enter and be taught, Sensei Kansumi-sama."

Yoriko tried to compose herself. "This not the dojo, Possible-san. But please come. Welcome to Yamanouchi Academy. You--um--(chortle)--honor us with your hilarity--er, I mean--humility and your presence." She fought to keep a straight face and an even voice. And she stifled another giggle.

There was a tug on her heartstrings. It was both sweetness and agony. He had the height of the Possible side of the family, but in every other respect, Ronald Possible was her Ron-san reborn. The untidy blonde hair. The big ungainly ears. The American-style buffoonery. But most of all there were the honest brown eyes and the big innocent smile. It was a smile of peace. It was a smile of the Buddha.

Five years later--in Tara Stoppable's kitchen--

--Five years ago, Ron began to have the first inklings of something rotten in the state of Colorado--and only now did he realize it.

His huge cyber book fell open to a play.

THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS

By Christopher Marlowe

From The Quarto Of 1616

Ron knew the story. It was written by a contemporary of William Shakespeare. The story was even older. A German scholar, who, in his quest for knowledge and power, traveled paths best left untrod.

Johann Faustus--or Faust, as he was sometimes called, earned his doctorate in religious studies

So much he profits in divinity,

That shortly he was grac'd with doctor's name,

Excelling all, and sweetly can dispute

In th' heavenly matters of theology;

But Faustus was first and foremost, an intellectual, who loved learning, debating, and the pursuits of the mind as other men loved the pleasures of the body--like himself, thought Ron wryly.

Yet level at the end of every art,

And live and die in Aristotle's works.

Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou hast ravish'd me!

--Except that Faustus tired of simply having knowledge.

Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end?

Affords this art no greater miracle?

Then read no more; thou hast attain'd that end:

He wanted more--and so he went to forbidden sources.

Divinity, adieu!

These metaphysics of magicians,

And necromantic books are heavenly;

Lines, circles, scenes, letters, and characters;

Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.

Faustus wanted rulership--over the whole world, if he could.

All things that move between the quiet poles

Shall be at my command: emperors and kings

Are but obeyed in their several provinces;

But his dominion that exceeds in this,

Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man;

A sound magician is a demigod:

Both voices strove in Faustus's heart--the good Angel--

O, Faustus, lay that damned book aside,

And gaze not on it, lest it tempt thy soul,

And heap God's heavy wrath upon thy head!

--And the evil--

Go forward, Faustus, in that famous art

Wherein all Nature's treasure is contain'd:

Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky,

Lord and commander of these elements.

Faustus envisioned commanding even the spirits. He would have wealth. He would know all things.

How am I glutted with conceit of this!

Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please,

Resolve me of all ambiguities,

Perform what desperate enterprise I will?

I'll have them fly to India for gold,

Ransack the ocean for orient pearl,

And search all corners of the new-found world

For pleasant fruits and princely delicates;

I'll have them read me strange philosophy,

And tell the secrets of all foreign kings;

There was something at the edge of Ron's memory--something one of Team Possible's foes once said.

He turned the huge ebook to its table of contents and ran his finger down the page. He frowned. "Hmm--not here." He touched an icon labeled Search in the lower corner of the page. The page cleared of print. "Team Possible Mission Log Transcripts, Genomic Sequencer Mission, Drew Theodore P. Lipsky, a.k.a. Dr. Drakken, and Amelia Hall, a.k.a. DNAmy," he recited.

Wade Load had recorded everything in the old days. Whatever Kim had said and done, whatever happened in her life and her missions, was preserved. Sometimes it bordered on invasion of privacy, and his mania had been the topic of heated discussion between the heroine and her friend / mission coordinator / webmaster. But the audio video records of the battles had proven invaluable for analysis of the tactics of both the heroes and villains. And things the foes said and did would yield important clues regarding their future plans.

--And there it was. Ron brightened. Dr. Drakken's brief, eloquent, but, alas, futile attempt at courting DNAmy.

I knew it from the moment I first saw you. I love everything about you. Your homemade cookies. Your homemade creatures. The way you wrinkle your nose when you flout the laws of man and nature. Oh, Amy, be mine!

Ron smirked. It wasn't William Shakespeare--or even Christopher Marlowe--but it was enlightening--and insightful.

DNAmy was terminated from her college post for unorthodox gene splicing experiments.

Drakken's desire was for an army of robots--or genetically enhanced meta-humans--to conquer the world. And he was willing to invent--or steal--sophisticated scientific devices and subvert them from their beneficial purpose. Nano-ticks--atmospheric disruptors--orbital space stations--weather machines--mind tap machines--centripetal oscillators--shrink rays--even machines for healing the common cold. Power and conquest were his gods--and he would lay his greatest gift on the alter--his incalculable intellect--as a sacrifice.

And neither of them seemed to allow ethical concerns--the laws of man, nature, and God--or even their subjects' unwillingness--deter them from experimenting on humans.

Ron read on. And as he did so, he asked himself what he always did. What's here for me, that will help me help Kim Possible?

There were others involved besides Faustus and the voices of the two warring factions in the moral universe

A pair of Faustus' fellow scholars met up with his manservant, Wagner. They asked him where Faustus might be.

How now, sirrah! where's thy master?

And Wagner answered.

Truly, my dear brethren, my master is within at dinner, with

Valdes and Cornelius, as this wine, if it could speak, would

inform your worships: and so, the Lord bless you, preserve you,

and keep you, my dear brethren!

The two names of Faustus's guests were familiar to the scholars. It unsettled them.

O Faustus!

Then I fear that which I have long suspected,

That thou art fall'n into that damned art

For which they two are infamous through the world.

Faustus made his two guests welcome, and pumped them for information. It reminded Ron of the old saying. Birds of a feather flock together. It had been quoted by Plato in the fourth century B.C.

Come, German Valdes, and Cornelius,

And make me blest with your sage conference.

Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius,

Know that your words have won me at the last

To practice magic and concealed arts.

Philosophy is odious and obscure;

Both law and physic are for petty wits:

'Tis magic, magic that hath ravish'd me.

And the two veteran magicians obliged him

VALDES. Faustus, these books, thy wit, and our experience,

Shall make all nations to canonize us.

As Indian Moors obey their Spanish lords,

So shall the spirits of every element

Be always serviceable to us three;…

…If learned Faustus will be resolute.

FAUSTUS. Valdes, as resolute am I in this

As thou to live: therefore object it not.

…CORNELIUS. Valdes, first let him know the words of art;

And then, all other ceremonies learn'd,

Faustus may try his cunning by himself.

It was hard to tell who was playing who. Was Faustus the bigger sucker for swallowing the sales pitch, or were Valdes and Cornelius the bigger suckers for giving up their trade secrets?

It reminded Ron of Drakken trying to swindle or pilfer technology from just about every associate and acquaintance--Jack Hench, Wacky Wally, Prof. Dementor, DNAmy, James Timothy Possible, and Big Daddy Brotherson.

And how did the unholy association of Faustus, Valdes, and Cornelius apply to Kim Possible? She had not fallen into evil as a result of involvement with others. It was not a matter of peer pressure and intimidation.

In a moment of cynical honesty, Ron had to admit--both his great-aunt and her partner--his grandfather--had peer pressure issues.

Am I the new Ron? Yes, I am.

Ladies love the bad boy, and the bad boy loves the ladies.

Oh, OK. I get it. You think this is gonna be one of those times when I suddenly turn into some out-of-control guy and go way overboard with the whole money thing…Kim, I swear, this money will not change me…Yo, yo, the Ron's got mad grip. Spend it all in one place, G.

I think I learned a lesson here, Rufus…Never carry 99 million in cash…And--oh, yeah, right. And don't try to buy your friends.

Bonnie thought it was fly (to walk around with the entire 99 mill in my pockets.)…So what do you think the chances are that she fell in love with the real me?

Yo, Brick…It's just me, you know, hanging. Being manly…Yeah, it is (cool). Who's the man?…(I) care what those other guys think…Since just now when they accepted me.

Yeah, maybe, but what if (Bonnie)'s right? Is there anything sadder than going to the prom with "just a friend"?

Okay, Bonnie's with Brick, so she's all high horse, all boys, and the stupid prom and the food chain, and, and... I'm gonna end up with Ron!

Mom, he's not a guy, he's Ron…(So) well, yeah, (as a friend he's okay)…He's my best friend…(But)…Obviously… (he's not boyfriend material)…(Because of the food chain.?)…No. Yes. Well, kind of. The person you go with, it makes a statement.

Peer pressure issues--the desire to fit in--the temptation to sell out--this was not unusual. He had those. They were as old as history.

And Zedekiah the king said to Jeremiah, "I am afraid of the Jews that are collaborating with the Chaldeans. I fear they will deliver me into their hand, and mock me."

But Jeremiah said, "They shall not deliver you. Obey, I beseech you, the voice of the LORD, which I speak to you. So it shall go well for you, and your soul shall live." (Jeremiah 38:19-20)

But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him face to face, because he was to be blamed. For before certain men came from James, he ate with the Gentiles. But when they had come, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing them who were of the circumcision. And the other Jews likewise behaved dishonestly with him, so that Barnabas also was carried away with their dishonesty. But when I saw that they did not walk uprightly according to the truth of the gospel, I said to Peter before them all, "If you, being a Jew, live like a Gentile…why do you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?" (Galatians 2:11-15)

Ron read on.

Faustus, begin thine incantations,

And try if devils will obey thy hest,

Seeing thou hast pray'd and sacrific'd to them.

Within this circle is Jehovah's name,

Forward and backward anagrammatiz'd,

Th' abbreviated names of holy saints…

…ipse nunc

surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis!

And the demon Mephistopheles appeared in response to the summons--a corpse wearing a golden crown. The manifestation disturbed Faustus.

I charge thee to return, and change thy shape;

Thou art too ugly to attend on me:

Go, and return an old Franciscan friar;

That holy shape becomes a devil best.

He commanded Mephistopheles to change his look into that of a monk of the Order of St. Francis--perhaps out of a sense of irony.

Ron's interest was kindled--the appearance of a hideous emissary from Hell, like the goddess Izanagi. But even the most casual reading showed that this was not symbolic of Aunt Kim's contition. Mephistopheles had not come to kill Faustus. That would come later. And the demon revealed that a spell was not needed.

FAUSTUS. Did not my conjuring speeches raise thee? speak!

MEPHIST. That was the cause, but yet per accidens;

For, when we hear one rack the name of God,

Abjure the Scriptures and his Saviour Christ,

We fly, in hope to get his glorious soul;

Nor will we come, unless he use such means

Whereby he is in danger to be damn'd.

Therefore the shortest cut for conjuring

Is stoutly to abjure all godliness,

And pray devoutly to the prince of hell.

And so Mephistopheles revealed the price Faustus must pay for power.

Faustus was quite pleased with himself.

Who would not be proficient in this art?

How pliant is this Mephistophilis,

Full of obedience and humility!

Such is the force of magic and my spells.

And he had no problem with the fee that was due.

So Faustus hath

Already done; and holds this principle,

There is no chief but only Belzebub;

To whom Faustus doth dedicate himself.

This word "damnation" terrifies not me,

Mephistopheles even gave Faustus a warning and a disclaimer.

Think'st thou that I, that saw the face of God,

And tasted the eternal joys of heaven,

Am not tormented with ten thousand hells,

In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss?

O, Faustus, leave these frivolous demands,

Which strike a terror to my fainting soul!

But Faustus would not listen.

What, is great Mephistophilis so passionate

For being deprived of the joys of heaven?

Learn thou of Faustus manly fortitude,

And scorn those joys thou never shalt possess.

Go bear these tidings to great Lucifer:

Seeing Faustus hath incurr'd eternal death…

…Say, he surrenders up to him his soul,

So he will spare him four and twenty years,

Letting him live in all voluptuousness;

Having thee ever to attend on me,

To give me whatsoever I shall ask,

To tell me whatsoever I demand,

To slay mine enemies, and to aid my friends,

And always be obedient to my will.

The deal was struck. Faustus got what he wanted. For the next twenty-four years he wielded power

Had I as many souls as there be stars,

I'd give them all for Mephistophilis.

By him I'll be great emperor of the world,

And make a bridge thorough [37] the moving air,

He partook of pleasure and popularity.

Sweet Mephistophilis, thou pleasest me.

Whilst I am here on earth, let me be cloy'd

With all things that delight the heart of man:

My four-and-twenty years of liberty

I'll spend in pleasure and in dalliance,

That Faustus' name, whilst this bright frame doth stand,

May be admir'd thorough the furthest land.

He caused one of history's lovliest women to appear, to become his mistress--Helen of Troy.

One thing, good servant, let me crave of thee,

To glut the longing of my heart's desire,--

That I may have unto my paramour

That heavenly Helen which I saw of late,

Whose sweet embraces may extinguish clean

Those thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow,

And keep my oath I made to Lucifer.

He rewarded his friends.

I pray you

tell me, what is the thing you most desire to have; be it in the

world, it shall be yours:

And he cursed on his enemies.

…For one of (Faustus') devils turned me into the likeness of an ape's face.

But it came at an awful cost.

LUCIFER. Thus from infernal Dis do we ascend

To view the subjects of our monarchy,

Those souls which sin seals the black sons of hell;

'Mong which, as chief, Faustus, we come to thee,

Bringing with us lasting damnation

To wait upon thy soul: the time is come

Which makes it forfeit.

MEPHIST. Ay, Faustus, now thou hast no hope of heaven;

Therefore despair; think only upon hell,

For that must be thy mansion, there to dwell.

FAUSTUS. O thou bewitching fiend, 'twas thy temptation

Hath robb'd me of eternal happiness!

MEPHIST. I do confess it, Faustus, and rejoice:

'Twas I that, when thou wert i'the way to heaven,

Damm'd up thy passage; when thou took'st the book

To view the Scriptures, then I turn'd the leaves,

And led thine eye.

What, weep'st thou? 'tis too late; despair! Farewell:

Fools that will laugh on earth must weep in hell.

Such things chilled Ron--not that he perpetually thought of eternal judgement--but his belief in a spiritual dimension, immortality of the soul, and free will compeled a logical conclusion--there were some who would see eternal life--and there were some who would not.

There was an uncomfortable similarity with Faustus and magic to Grandpa Ron and his naco royalty earnings. But Grandpa had learned his lesson.

There was something here that was eluding him--a key to understanding how the example of Faustus applied to Ron's own great Quest.

On an impulse, Ron turned to a page he had noticed earlier. Here was a play by Marlowe's close acquaintance--about a closely related theme.

1606

THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH

by William Shakespeare

Yes. Here was further clarification to understanding Faustus. Here was another who was tempted--and corrupted. He had made the fatal bargain.

His noble character was well-known.

For brave Macbeth -well he deserves that name-

Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel,

Which smoked with bloody execution,

Like Valor's minion carved out his passage

He encountered three witches, who told him his present--

All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!

--And his future--

All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter!

A friend warned him to be careful of the predictions made to him.

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

The instruments of darkness tell us truths,

Win us with honest trifles, to betray's

In deepest consequence-

Macbeth himself was torn between the two courses of action--to do nothing--

If chance will have me King, why, chance may

crown me

Without my stir.

--Or to 'help' the prediction to happen--by assassinating the current king--

My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,

Shakes so my single state of man that function

Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is

But what is not.

He was honest with himself. He wanted power badly enough to act badly.

Stars, hide your fires;

Let not light see my black and deep desires.

His wife chided him for his indecision.

Yet do I fear thy nature.

It is too full o' the milk of human kindness

To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great;

Art not without ambition, but without

The illness should attend it.

And, like Faustus, she made her own prayer to the forces of darkness. She gave herself over to evil.

Come, you spirits

That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here

And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full

Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood,

Stop up the access and passage to remorse,

That no compunctious visitings of nature

Shake my fell purpose nor keep peace between

The effect and it!

She decided for them both.

Leave all the rest to me.

The issue in question was of one who was a scholar, like Faustus--and warrior, like Macbeth.

Another remark by a Team Possible villain kept intruding into his recall.

Ron consulted his volume, repeating the search protocol. "Team Possible Mission Log Transcripts, Montgomery Fiske a.k.a. Monkey Fist," he told the audio interface.

Aunt Kim had her opinion of the man--

Lord Monty Fiske is a world-famous explorer and a highly respected scholar.

Team Possible mission coordinator Wade Load had his opinion--

The leading expert n on all alll things things simian is Lord Monty Fiske.

But Aunt Kim's partner, Ron's very grandfather, for all the fact of his intellectual laziness, saw the matter with clear eye.

His Lordship is five hundred miles of bad road.

Ron found the reference--several references. There it was. In the very words of Lord Montgomery Fiske, Tenth Earl of Westchesterwick, professor of archaeology, and collector of sacred artifacts and texts.

--From the Monkey King Amulet Mission.

I was destined to be Monkey King. According to the ancient text, there is still one way to achieve total and complete monkey-osity…

--From the Rocket Boosters' Open House Mission.

The Monkey Prophesy states that a team of monkey ninjas stands ready and the Golden Banana has been returned to its golden stand. The Ultimate Monkey Master will receive a sign. I shall await that sign…

…I am guided by the ancient prophecy of the mystical Monkey Monk…My dear, Frederick, it has been foretold that you would lead us to the stars. Destiny awaits us.

He was perfectly willing to utter threats and shed blood to 'help' the prophecy happen.

…You cannot fight destiny. It's just not done. Otherwise things here could get very ugly. Understand?

--From the Yamanouchi Student Exchange Program Mission.

At last... the ultimate weapon is where it belongs!

--From the Cambodian Monkey Temple Mission.

…Placing this icon in precise alignment with three others would generate a mystical monkey power…Mystical monkey power is reserved for me and me alone.

--From the Overdue School Library Book Recovery Mission.

Today dawns the age of the Phantom Monkeys, with me as Supreme Monkey King!…Fetch me the ancient text…behold the might of the Phantom Monkeys!

And his dismay when his artifacts were damaged.

My monkey idols!

Wade Load had provided annotations.

The temple was one of four built by the followers of monkey kung fu. Each temple had a jade monkey...According to legend, when the four jade monkeys were brought together, they gave the worrier mystical monkey power…The legend says that the worriers didn't want anyone else to get the power.

Legend holds that whoever wears the amulet becomes the Monkey King.

The words of Monty Fiske read like the words of Johann Faustus. And the deeds of Monty Fiske rivaled the deeds of Macbeth.

It was a stark and revealing account--obsession with magic--obsession with learning--disregard for fellow men and women--naked ambition.

He had stolen the Lotus Blade. And the Scroll of the Mandrill Monk sect. And he had almost stolen the Tempus Simia. And he had unearthed the Dark Temple of the Simian Valley, awakening the Yono.

With a shock of realization, Ron stood still. The final puzzle piece fell into place.

All the members of the King / Stoppable / Possible family tree had their gifts and talents. Each had their area of expertise.

James Timothy Possible was one of the nation's finest rocket engineers. His wife Anne Possible was a preeminent neurosurgeon. His mother Emily Possible had been a Navy underwater demolitions expert and a member of the O.S.S. His brother Slim and his twin sons Tim and Jim pursued rocketry as a pastime, if not a profession.

Abe Stoppable had been honored as Actuary of the Year decades ago by the national professional association, and was known in his congregation as a cantor.

Even in her short life, Kim Possible achieved a national fame in cheerleading, and worldwide fame in world-saving, and numerous forms of Kung-Fu.

Ron Stoppable had in turns been a renowned chef and a talented soundboard engineer and instrumental mixer--and he could read a cookbook like a financial analyst reads the stock listings.

And who was the family prodigy regarding sacred texts and philosophy? Who wielded the same mystical ability as Monty Fiske?

It was himself--Ronald Zimmer Possible.

And Ron realized--it was a word of warning from his Savior--be wary--be cautious--don't presume--

--Johann Faustus and Monty Fiske--the gifted and virtuous scholars who rejected good and embraced evil--who twisted their natural abilities and spiritual gifts--

--And Macbeth and Monty Fiske, the brave and valorous warriors who dabbled in prophecy and bartered away their valor and virtue to make the prophecies come true--

--And perhaps even, to an extent, Drew Lipsky, the embittered and ambitious scientist--

--None of these men were symbolic of Kim. Instead--

Then Satan entered into Judas Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve. And he went his way, and met with the chief priests and captains, how he might betray Jesus to them. (Luke 22:3-4)

But I subdue my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that somehow, after I have preached to others, I myself should become a castaway. (1 Corinthians 9:27)

Brethren, if someone is overtaken in any fault, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Look to yourselves, so that you also are not tempted. (Galatians 6:1)

Faustus--Macbeth--Fiske--Lipsky--they were all symbolic of him.

to be continued

We finish with Faustus--maybe. But we'll return to Macbeth. And also the rest--Yori--Mariko--Tara. And our Heroine--and her Knight.

Some interesting reading I saw in Wikipedia--Christopher Marlowe's play created something of a sensation back when it was first shown in public. It was the one of the first times that summoning a demon had been portrayed in a play. Clergy preached against it--it glorified the devil--the actors would conjure an actual evil spirit. . It scared viewers--sort of like today's extreme horror movies.

For myself, it was a struggle to get past the archaic language, but once I did, I found it a fascinating and compelling story of the battle between good and evil--as much so as Star Wars--The Revenge of The Sith.

Take heart, my readers. Not all my chpt's will be like this.

On that note, let me ask my readers again. Putting classical literature, mythology, and scripture into the fic--show of hands--like or dislike? Also taking suggestions how to make chpt's like this more readable.