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Captain's Library & Theatre FLASH GORDON The Movie "Interlude" & "Chapter 2: Flaming Death"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Sun, 23 Aug 2026 11:00:00 +0000

Read the Previous Chapter HERE!

Interlude

THREE months after the New York Jets won the Super Bowl, the bored monarch and Klytus decided to test the planet Earth.

The red and green rays materialized between the orbits of Jupiter and Mars; they had crossed unfathomable distances. The vastness of the universe did not pose a problem to the machinery at the Emperor’s command.

The rays struck the moon before the few astronomers who saw them had the opportunity to adjust emotionally to the fact that they were witnessing a heretofore unknown phenomenon. An observer at Mount Wilson in Los Angeles noticed the rays only because he was examining a sector of the asteroid belt in their path; the asteroids struck by the red rays exploded, and those struck by the green disintegrated. Scowling and rubbing his chin, the observer decided the rays were the result of atmospheric interference, which in its turn was the result of a new weapon being tested by the Pentagon.

Astronomers arrived at different conclusions on Mount Palomar near San Diego, below Arecibo, Puerto Rico, in the Andes of Chile, and on Kitt Peak in Arizona. The remaining astronomers withheld conclusions until all the data was recorded, a process a few hoped would last indefinitely. It was just as well, for even the most ingenious conclusions were rejected when the rays struck and sent a silent explosion of moon rock into the vacuum. With two exceptions, no one dared to think; the phenomenon was simply too horrifying to contemplate and too awesome to inspire anything but a mental numbness.

The first exception was Pete Whittaker, who lived in an exclusive suburb of Miami. An open can of beer nestled between his legs, Pete sat in his backyard and peered through his latest toy—a twenty-thousand-dollar telescope. When he saw the brilliant red and green flash an instant before it struck the moon, he jumped up, spilling his beer all over himself, and exclaimed, “Oh my God! It’s an invasion! We’re being invaded!” Visions of Wells’s Martians and the Japanese Mysterians flooded into his brain, and he fell backward, in a dead faint.

The other exception took this unexpected turn of events much more calmly, though he did have his impetuous moments. This exception was one Dr. Hans Zarkov.

Flaming Death

FLASH spent his vacation by himself in a friend’s cabin thirty miles from a small Maine town. He visited the town twice a week to buy groceries and to take flying lessons at a country airport. The remainder of his time he spent out of contact with humanity (though he did receive two letters from Phyllis Franklin). He lifted weights. He chopped firewood. He performed isometric exercises. He meditated for at least an hour every morning, sitting in the Zen or lotus position in the middle of the living room, near the red coals in the fireplace. The cabin was equipped with modern conveniences, except for radio and television. Flash spent his considerable spare time reading. His flying instructor saved newspapers for him. His other material included the encyclopedia, James’s Varieties of Religious Experience, Wilson’s The Outsider and Order of Assassins, works by Jack London and Gunter Grass, and several science-fiction books (including Rif and The Prince of Sleep). Occasionally he played tapes by Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, Jr., and Johnny Cash, and he appreciated the silence of the falling snow and the whiteness resting on the ground and bare branches and the pine needles. Sometimes he imagined all the universe had succumbed to the soft quiet, and he experienced an incomparable peace. Alone, Flash purged himself of the last vestiges of grief for those who had left him (though the emptiness created by their passing could never be filled). Alone, he occupied himself enough to stay in shape and keep from becoming bored. Alone, he did not experience loneliness, for he had discovered spiritual nuances within himself, he had discovered the connection between his life and all other living things. He drank the sensation of each moment until it seemed infinite, yet the time alloted for his vacation passed more quickly than he would have wished.

However, toward the end of his self-imposed isolation, Flash smiled to himself when he realized that a part of him was restless and yearned for the activity of civilization, and training camp. He gave in to this urge when he discovered the only flight from the country airport the day before the start of training camp was scheduled to depart at six-thirty in the morning.

Flash’s spiritual awareness did not permit him to relish waking up at five. He always slept as late as possible. He spent the last night of his vacation in the Dark Harbor Inn.

Since the inn provided the sole restaurant in the community, Flash’s only culinary choice that evening was deciding how he wanted his hamburger cooked. As he gave his order, chatting amicably with the waitress about the Super Bowl, he suddenly felt a tenseness in the atmosphere, a tenseness the other occupants of the room did not seem to notice. A tightness gripped his chest; the peace and tranquillity he had attained in the cabin deserted him, leaving him stranded, his spirit adrift in the cosmos. His existence had somehow become meaningless. He examined these sensations for ten minutes. As the waitress walked toward him, carrying a tray upon which rested his hamburger, tomatoes, and scoop of cottage cheese, he happened to see a young lady enter the restaurant, and he understood why his conception of himself had undergone such a radical alteration.

He was experiencing one of those rare periods of premonition when an individual realizes that soon his life will be swept up by turbulent forces, that he will have no control of his future, that the alteration of his life will be irrevocable, blessedly irrevocable.

The turbulent forces were personified in the shape of this young lady.

She wore a sleek red dress with a wide black belt, and Flash realized she would be exhibiting a boyish yet feminine figure if it were not for her stylish white jacket. Her shoulder-length hair, freshly permed if Flash’s eye was still good, seemed black until the light struck it in a certain way, exposing its true auburn color. She had white skin that captured his imagination, eyes aggressive and demanding despite her demure carriage, and full red lips which, he was sure, did not require that bright shade of lipstick. She stood at the cash register, doubtlessly asking the clerk if she should choose her seat or be escorted. She smiled sincerely as she thanked the clerk. Holding her white pocketbook in her hand, she swung her right arm in a wide arc, keeping her unburdened left hand in her jacket pocket as she walked to a table which was, unfortunately, at a corner opposite that of Flash.

“Is everything all right, Mr. Gordon?” asked his waitress.

“What? Oh, yes, of course it is.”

The waitress smiled stiffly, as if she did not believe him and he had hurt her feelings. How could he explain? What excuse should he make?

“Is there any problem, Mr. Gordon?” asked the thin host in a bass voice.

Flash smiled woodenly. “Not at all. Everything’s fine. I just, uh, spaced out, that’s all.” He nodded at the waitress, but gestured for the host to come closer. The thin man approached, after a fashion; though he did not step up to the table, he did lean over until he practically reached a seventy-five-degree angle, thus demonstrating to those few watching and those fewer who cared that he was engaging in a most private conversation with an important guest. “Who is that beautiful young lady sitting over there? No, not her, the one in the white jacket who looks like a model.” With my luck, she’ll be one of those nude models for those cheap English newspapers.

“I believe her name is Dale Arden, sir. She is a travel agent.”

“Thanks.”

Flash ate only half his hamburger; he nibbled at his tomatoes and he could not bear to look at his cottage cheese. He drank six cups of coffee. He tried not to be obvious about it (but he failed miserably) as he studied her and attempted to read hidden meanings in every nuance of her fluid movements. He was dazzled as much with the image of her as the reality, and she conjured in his mind visions of a woman who, though she perhaps knew her way around, was saving a special part of her heart for an ideal mate who would be her true love. Flash’s fantasies about her embarrassed him, though he feared he would be the only person who would ever know them; he had not felt so suddenly attracted to a woman (and with so little reason) since he graduated from high school. His heart pounded, his every movement seemed like a figment of his imagination, each thought was a message from a past he could not recall. His head swirled, his fingers trembled as he reached for his coffee. There was no doubt about it.

Flash Gordon had been struck by the thunderbolt.

In his hotel room, Flash switched on the television to watch the shifting colors and to hear its steady, shrill drone. He had no idea what program was on. She would not leave his thoughts; he imagined himself carrying on trivial yet meaningful conversations with her; he envisioned her playing an important part in every facet of his life; she embraced him, kissed him, pressed her boyishly feminine figure close against the hard muscles of his broad chest . . .

Dale Arden. All-American Girl. He lay on the bed with his hands beneath his head; he stared at the ceiling, already bored of the mindless activity on the tube. He probably would never see her again, though she would occupy his thoughts until she almost became an obsession. No one at the training camp would know the emotions and the utter sense of defeat weighing down upon him. Soon, perhaps as quickly as two days, perhaps as long as two weeks, he would forget her; he would come to his senses or see Phyllis on the weekends or he would transfer his desire to another woman. But that woman would never affect him as deeply as this Dale Arden, he thought, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep despite the drone of the television. Twenty years from now, when he thought of this Dale, if he remembered her, she would merely be the regret of a middle-aged man, a possibility that had never materialized, an ideal shattered by grim realities.

Finally he slept, his heart smothered by a frigid blackness and his mind filled with anxieties for his future. When he woke, nearly thirty minutes later than he had planned, he found he had tossed and turned the entire night, kicking the blankets onto the floor. Cursing because he had hoped for a large breakfast to see him through the day (he avoided food served on airplanes and at airports), he took a quick shower and dressed in white jeans and his “Flash” T-shirt. He loaded his two suitcases into the station wagon he had rented for the duration of his vacation. Since he had settled his hotel bill the night before and had made arrangements to leave the rented car at the airport, his oversleeping had merely inconvenienced him; it would not cause him to miss his flight.

He drove fast over the winding roads bordered by shrubbery and trees. He turned on the radio and listened to a rock song, a hymn of a lover to his woman, informing her that just a little of her love was enough. Her love was so incredible, her body was so edible, she gave him an overdose of love. Flash identified heavily with the singer, though he had never experienced the woman he loved. He was afraid that if he ever saw her again, he would not possess the courage to speak to her. Ah, she’s probably married with three kids and two lovers on the sly, he thought, rolling down the window in the hopes that the cool, brisk air would help him concentrate more on his driving.

The fresh air did not help. He arrived at the airport sooner than he had expected because he had driven there automatically, his mind transported to realms of passion and sensation by the rock music.

Usually when he was up and about early in the morning, he looked to the clouds and felt his spirit soar into the blue depths. However, today he failed to notice the bright red streaks occasionally sweeping across the sky before burning out or falling from sight. One streak stabbed through a flock of birds migrating from the south, scattering them in all directions, setting a single unfortunate bird aflame.

Flash pulled into the parking spaces before the landing strip. The airport was so small that the strip was not fenced off; there were no problems with crowd control. The main task of the two-engine plane sitting on the strip was to deliver the mail now being loaded into the storage compartments. Realizing there was really no point in entering the plane until all the mail was loaded, Flash read a newspaper he had left beside him on the seat. It was a week old, but his mind was wandering anyway. The thought of beginning training camp actually filled him with dread. Maybe I’ll retire after this year. Become an actor before my nose gets broken.

He was actually becoming immersed in an article he had not previously noticed, something about the economic index’s correlation to reality, when pellets suddenly struck the station wagon, making a dull sound on the windshields and a rattling noise on the hood and roof.

It’s hailing, he thought with some surprise, since, save for a white cloud on the horizon, the sky was clear. A chill ran through him, but it did not originate at his spine; the temperature had actually dropped for five seconds. Hearing a hissing, he looked out the window and saw a small, red-hot cinder fizzling in a puddle. He looked straight ahead, then at the pellet again. It was now black, charred, and cool.

Naw. Must be my imagination.

He lifted up the paper, but before he could read a word, a chauffeured van pulled up on the left of the station wagon. On the side of the van was inscribed DARK HARBOR INN; below the inscription, was a replica of the Frazetta painting of an undersea monster towering above a skindiver.

I saw that movie, thought Flash absently, remembering The Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Then Flash recognized the silhouette through the tinted glass of the passenger’s window. He would recognize the shape of that freshly permed hair anywhere. His heart threatened to crack his sternum, the blood vessels between his skin and skull expanded practically to the point of bursting; he wondered if he could count on them; he felt a glow of hope and the fear of rejection and disappointment; he threw the newspaper down on the black mat on the passenger’s side; he scrambled to pick up his luggage and open the door simultaneously; he controlled himself with an effort.

Okay, Flash, it’s time to be suave and debonair.

The driver opened the door for Dale; when she stepped out, she glanced at Flash for a moment.

Did she notice me? Looking in the rearview mirror, he straightened his short blond hair with his hands before getting out of the wagon. Pretending to be oblivious to the world, he walked around the front and pulled his baggage from the passenger side. Though his lips were puckered, his mouth was dry and so he did not try to whistle. It was just as well, because he could not carry a tune for longer than ten seconds. Flash had been smitten by unreality. He was as shy and as anxious as a virgin youth. Walking five yards behind her, pretending (only for his own benefit) to be totally uninterested in her, he memorized the swaying of her hips, imagining the skin of her thighs and backside ebbing and flowing with the rhythm of her steps. He imagined other sights, as well as odors. She still wore the white jacket and the red dress, but the clothing seemed fresh, as if it had just been taken from the closet.

The chauffeur carried her suitcases to the passengers’ area; Flash wished he could have done so himself, though he would have looked silly struggling with the bulk of her luggage and his. When Dale thanked and tipped the chauffeur, Flash felt a surge of jealousy for no good reason. He concentrated on strapping his suitcase in the compartment above his seat. The chauffeur left. Flash sat down, fastening his seat belt and crossing his legs. He felt somewhat relieved, thankful there were no other passengers, though his awkwardness at being alone with her caused a constriction in his throat that threatened to choke him.

Clearing his throat, he looked at her and smiled.

She nodded, finally acknowledging his existence, and returned his smile.

Flash wondered what had happened to the worldly professional quarterback who, once he determined he could have a meaningful, spiritual, no-strings-attached relationship with a woman whose mind he admired, proceeded with assurance, wit, and style? Or had that Flash Gordon ever existed? Was that merely a role to be assumed when the circumstances warranted it? Flash grimaced, only to smile again. He was beginning to feel like a fool. When Dale spoke (with a voice that intensified his fantasies), he was totally unprepared.

“Where did you get that stupid T-shirt?” she asked.

If I tell her it was a gift from an admirer, she’ll get the wrong idea. “Well, uh, it’s like this, you see . . .”

“Are you from California? You talk like you are.”

Flash was stunned. Woman of his dreams or not, he wasn’t going to take any of this smart talk. “See here, young lady . . .” He paused; his mind was momentarily blank. “You must be a New York girl.”

Dale was surprised. “How did you know?”

“Your manners.”

Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Dale placed a tiny fist on her hip and pointed at Flash with her right forefinger. Her reply, though it might have been memorable, was destined never to be; for at that moment, the pilot and copilot stepped into the plane. Dale turned away from Flash, totally ignoring him, and smiled sweetly at them.

The pilot tipped his hat at the passengers. The copilot said, “Morning, miss. A pleasure to have you, Mr. Gordon. I’ve been a fan of yours ever since you broke the passing record for the Sugar Bowl.” He reached out and shook Flash’s hand. “As a sophomore yet. Amazing!”

“It was nothing. Only a game,” said Flash, feeling pleasure not at the copilot’s compliments but at the curiosity plainly apparent in Dale’s quizzical expression.

“But what a game!” exclaimed the copilot, releasing Flash’s hand and straightening. After giving them the flight instructions and safety procedures, he said, “We should be taking off in a few minutes, so remain seated until then. And have a good flight.”

“I’m sure we will,” said Flash as the copilot disappeared behind the blue curtains, into the cockpit.

The couple sat in awkward silence; Flash felt the animosity flowing from the young woman. Resting her chin on her fist, she stared out the square window, at the hills beyond the airport. Once she leaned forward, raising her shoulders, looking in all directions as much as the porthole permitted; but her unvoiced questions were unanswerable, or else her eyes had played tricks on her, for she slumped back and reassumed her lifeless pose.

The engines were switched on.

“Ahh, listen to those eggbeaters whirl,” said Flash, trying to make conversation.

Dale contorted her face in such a way that he could not tell if she was confused or horrified. “What?”

“The propellers. Propellers are sometimes called egg-beaters.”

“By whom?”

“It’s a slang term that originated during World War Two.”

“Wonderful,” said Dale, nodding blankly, as if she could not understand why anyone believed this information was important enough to impart to her.

Flash felt a tightening in his gut only partially due to the takeoff. Through the thick glass of the porthole he saw the landscape roll past him; it sank below him. Slowly, even the highest mountains in the distance disappeared, and there was only the infinite, comforting blue outside. He wished he could escape there, that he could let his spirit soar; but random factors had come into play. He no longer controlled his destiny, not even a fraction of it.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Dale’s knuckles turning white as she gripped both the armrests. He sighed. To say they had gotten off on the wrong foot would be like saying Nero Wolfe the detective was a tad overweight.

Clouds like wisps in a dream grazed the plane. Flash discovered the intellectual delight of unpredictable abstract shapes. He searched for figures and faces in the folds of the pillowy clouds farther away; these clouds were immobile, calm. Then, without warning, the fluffy folds of a gray cloud sucked inward as if they had been struck by a gust of wind originating straight above. But there was no indication of winds elsewhere in the sky.

Before Flash had the opportunity to frame a definition of what had happened, the plane bumped like a jeep traveling too fast over a rocky road. The bumping lasted for fifteen seconds; then the plane flew smoothly again.

Dale tightened her fist and bit white knuckles. Her face was as pale as a mannequin’s. Flash wished he could comfort her.

Again, the plane jolted, this time much harder and for much longer.

Leaning against one wall with his palm along the way, Flash moved into the cockpit. “Any problem, fellas?”

The pilot said, “Bit of clear air-turbulence. Nothing serious.”

The copilot added, “But nothing you’d want to toss a third-down pass through either.” Keeping one hand firm upon the wheel, he reached into a briefcase and pulled out a copy of People with a picture of Flash on the cover. “When I heard you were going to be a passenger, I borrowed this from my son’s memorabilia collection. I’d like for you to autograph it for him, if you would, Mr. Gordon.”

Flash took the magazine and a pen from the copilot. “Glad to. What’s his name?”

“Buzz.”

As Flash hastily scribbled his name on the cover, the plane was jolted by the hardest burst yet. For a moment it seemed like the plane had flown through a wall.

“Wow! Call Boston approach and see what they’ve got,” said the pilot to the copilot. And to Flash: “Seat belt time sir.”

The plane lurched as Flash quickly moved toward his seat. On the way he turned to the pilots and shouted, “Maybe it’d be smoother higher up!”

“Would you do us a favor?” asked Dale.

Flash hesitated before sitting. He raised his eyebrows. Anything! he thought.

“Leave them alone. They’re busy driving the plane!”

For once he could not argue with her. He held onto the shelf above her seat. “Just some turbulence. We’ll be through it in a minute. Nothing to worry about, really.” He paused. “By the way, my name’s Flash. Flash Gordon.”

“I deduced that.” Suddenly the glassy hardness disappeared from her eyes and she looked at Flash with some of the humanity she had exhibited last night. “Will you forgive me? I’m always rude when I’m scared. I didn’t mean to call your T-shirt stupid.”

“It’s just an amusing affectation.” I think she’ll buy that. “It’s kind of nice. I mean a travel agent who’s scared in airplanes.” He felt very embarrassed as he read the surprise in her expression. “I saw you at the hotel last night. I asked the host who you were.”

She laughed. “Oh, he’s such a busybody. I bet he gets the inside scoop on everyone who stays there.”

The plane lurched so violently that Flash would have fallen if he had not been holding tightly onto the shelf. He sat beside her and fastened his seat belt. The plane jolted again, as if a hand from the sky had whacked it. Dale became white, bit her lower lip, swallowed hard, and grabbed Flash’s hand. “Talk to me; get my mind off this!”

“I couldn’t believe a girl like you was alone.”

“You’re just saying that to get my mind off this.”

Flash smiled and shrugged. “I mean it. What were you doing there alone?” His concentration was completely arrested by her; he saw or heard nothing else. He perceived—vaguely—the plane jolting, but he thought nothing of it. After all, the pilots were driving; they should do the worrying.

Though Dale was looking at Flash, for a moment it seemed she saw another. “My boyfriend ditched me a few months back. Or rather, I ditched him, but he made it impossible for us to continue being an item.”

“He must have been an insensitive lout.”

She smiled wryly. “Actually, he was very considerate, but . . .” She looked to her hands in her lap. “The reason we broke up is very embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Well, I should start talking about it sometime if I want to face it and deal with it, and now’s just as good a time as any.”

“Go on,” said Flash, unable to conceal his eagerness, desperate to know what circumstances and coincidences had enabled him to meet this wonderful woman.

“My boyfriend, you see, has these needs, needs I tried to satisfy but which I couldn’t deal with indefinitely.” Waving at the air with one hand, she covered her eyes with the other. “It was just that after a while I couldn’t function sexually in all those exotic bars, around all those people, doing all those strange and wonderful things with all sorts of people who were perfect strangers.” She sighed. “I guess I was just too old-fashioned for him.” Then, to Flash’s utter shock, she blushed and grinned. “Some of it was nice though. I might have been able to handle it on a part-time basis. Anyway, after we broke up, I felt I should clean up my act. So I stayed at the Dark Harbor Inn for a few weeks, reading mysteries and watching reruns. And I found a few nice country boys to help me pass the time.”

I guess the All-American Girl is a little more sophisticated than she used to be, thought Flash.

“You understand, don’t you?” asked Dale.

“Uh, sure I do,” replied Flash. “What’s the farthest away place you know?”

“As in far away?”

“From everything. I’ll let you sell me a ticket there.”

Suddenly, the plane jolted so hard it seemed as if it had been momentarily stopped cold by powerful forces. Biting her lower lip, Dale dug her fingernails into Flash’s palm. She cut his skin, but Flash’s only response was to hold her hand more tightly.

“Honestly, it’s nothing,” he said.

“Famous last words.”

“I’m taking flying lessons. Sometimes the air rises under clouds and you get a little . . .” Flash stared out the porthole.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” Dale, too, looked through the porthole. She brought her hands to her mouth and uttered a whimpering cry.

Billowing waves of pitch blackness rolled across the sky. The sun was an orb of red fire impotently blazing in the darkness.

Flash did not know what to think of this. He was a civilized, rational man suddenly viewing the unknown. Sweat poured from his face and armpits and chest; he breathed with difficulty. Though the blackness was covering the sky in a matter of seconds, the process seemed to take hours, and Flash felt somewhat like a primitive faced with the ineffable.

A black disk slowly, remorselessly, crept over the sun.

The Story Continues Tuesday at Atomic Kommie Comics

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Captain's Library & Theatre FLASH GORDON The Movie "Prologue: Cosmic Pawns"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Sun, 16 Aug 2026 11:00:00 +0000

He'll Save Every One of Us...

We're re-presenting the time-lost noveliztion of 1980's Flash Gordon the Movie by award-winning sci-fi/fantasy author Arthur Byron Cover!

It's a wild expansion of the screenplay by Lorenzo Semple, with elements from earlier drafts and some of Cover's own extrapolation and interpretation of the script!

PROLOGUE
Cosmic Pawns

“UNDERLING, I am weary.”

The unconcerned voice which replied to the statement was incapable of warmth or pity. It had never expressed a passion, not even the tacit admission of an emotion. “O Master, what might I do to relieve the weariness which has so mercilessly beset you?”
A pause. “You might amuse me.”

“For the purposes of amusement, there is your harem of submissive, willing slaves.”

“With sleek bodies tanned by discriminating applications of artificial light, that I know. I am not interested in that sort of amusement.” Another pause. “Perhaps later.”

“You have your scholars to present all manner of inventive and obscure arguments for your approval.”

“Underling, today I have no desire to listen to a cowardly old man with quivering knees lecture me on the finer points of logic.”

“Does it not please you to listen to philosophers explain why life is meaningful only beneath the iron hand of your august rule?”

“It pleases me, but it does not relieve my boredom.”

“I might arrange for your tributes to be given within the hour.”

“Do not bother; it can wait.”

“Is there a duty of state which might please you?”

Another pause, this one long and heavy. “Klytus.”

“O Master.”

“What would you say if I informed you that my weariness was the result of my singular loneliness?”

“I would reply that the loneliness of a star blazing in the vacuum of space is a small price to pay for imperial greatness, for the vast spirit which rules the nine moons of a kingdom that is truly the center of the universe.”

“You would make such a reply?”

“Indeed I would, Sire, without hesitation—that is, if you were to say that you were lonely.”

“Do you believe I am lonely?”

“No, Sire, though if you were to say you were, then I would believe it instantly, with all my soul.”

“Klytus, you disappoint me.”

The unconcerned voice expressed the barest hint of surprise. “Sire! How have I failed thee?”

“As We cannot condemn the space-hound for its savagery, We cannot fault thee for shortcomings inherent in thy very nature.”

“I exist only to serve you.”

“And, Klytus—you have no soul.”

“I kneel corrected.” The rustle of robes brushing against metal.

A sigh. “Tell Us, Klytus, since it appears We are doomed to suffer this weariness, at least for the time being, what affair of state should We choose to help Us wile away the hours?”

“Perhaps—the testing of a civilization?”

“Hmmm, yes. The life or death of millions upon millions. That might send the blood flowing through these tired veins. Have the computers make their selection.”

A hand sheathed in golden metal reached out and flicked a switch. It pushed a button and waited patiently before a slot. Green, yellow, and red lights flashed. There were pings and scraping sounds. A white card slipped from the slot into the sheathed hand.

“The computers have selected an insignificant planet in Sector 468G29, Sire.”

“Not Sector 468G29! It’s so dreary, so relentlessly, dreadfully boring. Its dullness is legendary even in the society of the drones beneath Our fair citadel. Nothing interesting ever happens there.”

“The prospects do not please me either, Sire, but according to the computers, there has been an inexplicable oversight. This planet’s civilization has never before been tested.”

“Oh?”

“We must test this insignificant planet in this dreadfully boring sector for the protection of the realm.”

“Very well. And have the maintenance man and current programmer executed.”

“O Master, they were executed last week for that little error which allowed Vultan to conceal his daughter’s existence for so long.”

“Have their replacements executed.”

“They have not yet been appointed.”

“Select a few volunteers then, Klytus, and inform them of the price of failure.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Proceed.”

“Yes, Master.”

The sheathed hand pressed buttons and flicked switches, the computer bank hummed as connections were made, gears slipped into place, and electrons coursed through coils. Waves of interference flowed across the view screen in the center of the console. Bright stars gradually appeared, floating like scoops of radioactive dust in the blackness. It was Sector 468G29.

The Master stifled an imperial yawn. A hand in a scintillating red glove waved. “Please, Klytus, I’ve no desire for sightseeing. I can do that while I meditate. Proceed more quickly.”

“Yes, Sire.” The sheathed hand turned a knob and on the screen appeared a blue world partially enveloped by white and gray mists and orbited by a barren rocky moon. The world was Earth.

“What do you know of this world’s civilization, Klytus?”

“Surely not enough to satisfy your endless thirst for knowledge, Sire.”

“Please try.”

“The civilization has reached Level Two, but the intellect of the inhabitants does not deal with it rationally. A peculiar personality trait, which all the inhabitants possess to some degree, is an amazing ability to refuse responsibility for their own actions, or for their existences, in general. To this end they live in a number of principalities, each with its own government, but there is no dictator to cut through red tape and bureaucracies. I must say, Sire, they are not very reasonable.”

“Interesting, interesting.”

“They possess other unusual qualities, Sire, including a philosophical outlook unique throughout the galaxies, though it has presented them with little advantage.”

“And what is that, Klytus?”

“The deeds and thoughts of life are somewhat arbitrarily divided between those they call ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ The good are supposed to make life better for all people, and the evil worsen it.”

“And is this planet a utopia of well-meaning intentions, a paradise of delight?”

“No, Sire, not in the least. Only a few can meet the behavioral standards which are the results of their ideals, and the others but pretend. There are many ways of carrying out the pretense. One method is to set up a huge faceless body called a ‘corporation’ which insulates each man from the results of his decisions. Orders are carried out through long chains of command so that when a decision backfires, creating an inordinate amount of pollution or contaminating a village, the person truly responsible can blame underlings or forces beyond his control. Therefore, he can believe he is successfully continuing the pretense of meeting the high philosophical standards.”

“And what is the so-called purpose of these corporations, Klytus?”

“To amass tremendous amounts of credits, so that the rewards of the capitalistic schemes can be utilized to earn more profits.”

“Why do they not simply demand tribute from their underlings?”

“As I said, Sire, they are not reasonable.”

“Are the people of this civilization aware of the true size of the universe? Do they meditate regularly, experiencing the myriad forces of the cosmos?”

“A few do, Sire, but in the main that is not considered profitable.”

“Hmmm, I wonder if testing this planet will not be a waste of energy.”

“These people do possess potential.”

The master asked abruptly, “Would they think me good—or evil?”

“Evil, though I confess it is difficult for me to make the distinction between the two. The categories are, after all, arbitrary. If I might be permitted to add an observation . . .” A pause, during which, presumably, the Master indicated his assent. “This planet, called Earth in one of its predominant languages, has produced specimens of a temperament you might find admirable. Tamerlane, Genghis Khan, Joseph Stalin. One man, Adolf Hitler by name, possessed the will, but his mind was not strong enough to cope and he became the victim of the very delusions he fostered upon others. Our seers have peered through the veils of time, into alternate dimensions, and they have informed me of the specimens this planet might spawn in the future. Yes, this world is currently insignificant, but there is potential here, potential we must be aware of.”

“It matters not. We can destroy the world if We choose.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Begin the test.”

The sheathed hand manipulated more controls. Momentarily, red and green waves stabbed at the barren moon.

“Do you remain weary, O Master?” asked the unconcerned voice.

“Indeed. But now I ponder upon the indisputable fact that unsuspecting millions depend upon my whim for their very existence, and the knowledge that I might crush them raises my spirits.”

“They are but insects, Sire, pawns of cosmic forces they cannot comprehend.”

“For one who feigns ignorance, Klytus, you seem to know much about this Earth in Sector 468G29.”

“Cosmic pawns are my hobby, Sire.”

“Good. It is a useful hobby, and you are useful to Us. We cannot help but notice that this life-or-death situation the unsuspecting Earth faces has excited Us. We shall retire and visit Our harem. Continue the testing while We exorcise some of Our majestic passions.”

“As you command.”

In fact, I believe this version of the Prologue may be part of Nicholas Roeg's earlier version of the film.
That's just my opinion.
But I would have loved to hear a recording session between Max Von Sydow and Peter Wyngarde for it!

Here's the actual Prologue along with the incredibly-kool opening credits featuring Queen's iconic theme and magnificent art by series creator Alex Raymond...

The Story Continues Wednesday at Seduction of the Innocent!!
The re-presentation spans three of the RetroBlogs!

Secret Sanctum of Captain Video

Seduction of the Innocent

and

Atomic Kommie Comics

(as soon as the re-presentation of Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker concludes!)

with a chapter in each one each week until conclusion!

That's two to three chapters a week, with panels from the comic adaptation (which itself has differences from the movie), rarely-seen photos and foreign posters, plus inserted video segments like the one above!

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Official Story of the Film
(Making of the Movie)
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Captain's Library YOUNG REBELS "Phantom Army" Conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Wed, 01 Jul 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We Have Already Seen...

...Isak, a member of the Yankee Doodle Society of American rebels doing guerrilla operations against the British, is captured by the Redcoats!

He overhears false "top secret" information, then released in the hope he'll report it to the rebels...who will believe it and fall into a trap!

But the Yankee Doodle Society has other plans...

Illustrated by Jose Delbo and scripted by a currently-unknown writer, this first of two stories from the one-shot Dell Young Rebels (1970) follows the series' format and characters pretty closely, reflecting the mood of the USA at the time, when it was hoped the Youth of America would effect change!

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Captain's Library YOUNG REBELS "Phantom Army" Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Tue, 30 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

Yesterday We Introduced You to The Young Rebels...

Now watch them in Family Hour (relatively non-violent) action!

To Be Concluded...Tomorrow!

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Coming Tomorrow: YOUNG REBELS

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Mon, 29 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

If Today's Reich-Wing Believes Pop Culture today is "woke"...Where the Hell Were They in 1970?

A "youthquake" hit mass-media!

Whether stranded Gilligan's Island/Lost-style on an isolated island...

Or fighting for civil rights, young adults were everywhere...

...even the American Revolution!

BTW, your eyes do not deceive you!
The second lead is, in fact, Lou Gossett (before adding "Jr" to his stage name) in his first ongoing series role!
Beginning tomorrow, join us as we look back at a time-lost TV series and it's one-issue comic book!

Before Supergirl, There was...Supergirl!

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Mon, 22 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

With a New Supergirl Movie Opening This Week...

...we thought we'd offer a look at the never-reprinted comic adaptation of the previous flick about the Girl of Steel...which played in theatres over 40 years ago!

(Note: We ran the re-presentation in 2015, when the Supergirl TV series that ran on CBS and The CW debuted, so there are links to related websites that no longer work!)

Click on the links below to the posts in both this blog and our "sister"
RetroBlog, Heroines!...
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Conclusion

Captain's Library & Theatre CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND Part Three: Contact

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Fri, 12 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

In the past Two Days, You Have Read of Close Enounters of the First Kind and Second Kind!

Cover for Cinefantastique V7N3&4 (1977) by Barclay Shaw
Now, join us as we experience a Close Encounter of the Third Kind!

We interrupt the graphic retelling to present what follows after the Mothership descends, which no graphic print imagery (even by Walt Simonson, Klaus Janson, and Marie Severin) could provide...

Wow!

Now back to the graphic novel...

If you're like me, and you've seen CE3K in all three of it's edits (Original. Special Edition, Director's Cut) you've no doubt noticed differences between the film and the print adaptation!

Luckily, writer/editor Archie Goodwin provided a text feature to explain some of them.
Remember, this was in the dark, primitive days before the Internet, e-mail, portable drives, CD-Roms and other physical media, even DVDs or mass-market videotape...

With all the difficulties they faced, we're lucky this mag wasn't filled with blank pages!

Thank you for joining us on this look back almost a half-century to Steven Spielberg's first alien encounter movie!

Now Go See the New Movie...

Disclosure Day

Captain's Library CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND Part Two: Evidence

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Thu, 11 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We have Already Witnessed a Close Encounter of the First Kind (Sighting)...

Unpublished ad design

...now, we're going to the next level!

To Be Concluded, Tomorrow!

You'll note that penciller Walt Simonson and inker Klaus Janson didn't render the main characters to resemble their screen counterparts!
This continued a trend from Marvel's Planet of the Apes movie adaptations which also did not illustrate the humans like astronauts Taylor (Charlton Heston), Brent (James Franciscus), and mute Nova (Linda Harrison) to look like the performers (though the renderings of the ape characters closely-resembled the prosthetic make-ups)!
(Interestingly, British comics adapting the Planet of the Apes TV series before CE3K did draw the human astronauts Virdon and Burke to look like actors Ron Harper and James Naughton, as we showed HERE and HERE!
For the record, most of the later movie and TV adaptations by the House of Ideas (as Marvel called itself back then) did, in fact, use performers' likenesses.

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Captain's Library & Theatre CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND Part One: Sighting

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Wed, 10 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We Have Already Seen

...unexplainable events are occurring all over thw world!
While they seem unconnected, there are those who believe there is a link...

Here's how it played on-screen...remember , writer Archie Goodwin, penciler Walt Simonson, inker Klaus Janson, and colorist Marie Severin had only two pages to fit all this in!

Now, on with the story...

Again, let's see the actual scene in the film.

Personally, I believe no one could've done a better job rendering it on the page!

Let's wind up the chapter...

Tomorrow: Evidence!
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Captain's Library CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND Prologue

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

With the Opening of His New Film about Alien Contact...

by Stephen Spielberg, we thought it only appropriate to "bookend" it with his first alien contact film from almost a half-century ago...

Tomorrow: Sighting!

Written by Archie Goodwin, penciled by Walt Simonson, and inked by Klaus Janson, this adaptation of Close Encounters of the Third Kind in Marvel Comics Super Special #3 (1978) was a unique experience for the comic creatives!

With no actual danger/threat and little violent "action", but lots of spectacle involving deliberately-nebulous spacecraft with few visual details, Simonson and Janson had to figure out how to visualize alien vehicles that appeared to be made of...light!
In the 1970s, there was no computer color to enhance artwork and do the tricks we're so used to seeing today!
But colorist Marie Severin was more than up to the challenge, producing some of the best work of her career, aided by the fact this was printed as a slick-stock magazine, not a newsprint comic, and that the people who did the hand-cut color separations were given extra time to follow her color guides exactly!
(A luxury rarely-afforded with regular comic books!)
The end result you're seeing is a triumph of artistic skill by every participant over near-impossible to achieve (at the time) graphic requirements!

Sit back and enjoy the ride!
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Captain's Library MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE Conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Mon, 08 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

Skeletor Destroys the Cosmic Key, Stranding He-Man and Alies on Earth...

...or are they truly trapped, never to return to their beloved Eternia?

A happy ending, right?

But, in the near future, if the two young adults aren't at the graveyard because her parents are alive...who finds the Cosmic Key?

Skeletor and his aides?

Have they doomed Eternia by altering history?

We'll never know since there wasn't a sequel!
BTW, those who actually have seen the movie will note that this last chapter is almost totally-different than the actual movie!
Whether that's due to the fact that Star Comics, as Marvel's young-kid-friendly line deliberately toned down the violence (like He-Man's torture), or that they were working from an earlier version of the script is unknown!

Bonus: the trailer for the flick...

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Captain's Library MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE "Part 3"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Sun, 07 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

When Last We Left the Masters of the Universe...

Home video release poster

...the battle rages on Earth as Skeletor and his minions seek the Cosmic Key, currently in the possession of humans!

The Cataclysmic Conclusion...Tomorrow!

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Captain's Library MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE "Part 2"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Sat, 06 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We Have Already Seen...

French Theatrical Poster

...Skeletor invades Castle Grayskull and imprisons The Sorceress, draining her power to add to his own.

With the Cosmic Key (which uses musical notes to open dimensional portals), He-Man and his allies attempt a rescue.

But Skeletor's troops force them to hastily retreat, using the Cosmic Key to go to a random location...Earth!

During the transit, they lose the Key...

To Be Continued...Tomorrow!
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Captain's Library MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE "Part 1"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Fri, 05 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

Welcome to the Comics Adaptation of the Movie about He-Man, Skeletor, and the World of Eternia!

But, it's not the adaptation of this movie!

It's the never-reprinted adaptation of this movie from almost 40. years ago!

Tomorrow: To Earth!

You'll note that the main Masters of the Universe characters look like their toy counterparts, not like the actors in the movie (whose costumes differ significantly from the toys)!

That's because the movie adaptation was published by Marvel's juvenile-themed line, Star Comics, which also published the ongoing comic based on the toy line/tv series, and they decided the young audience would be confused if the characters looked different!
New characters like Gwildor and the Earth-based humans were illustrated more like they appeared in the film.
Written by Ralph Macchio (not the Karate Kid actor), penciled by George Tuska (who drew the first MotU mini-series, published by DC in 1983, making him one of the few artists to illustrate the same character published by two comics companies!), and inked by Art Nichols!

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Captain's Library STEPHEN COLBERT'S TEK JANSEN "Return to Space Academy!" Conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Wed, 20 May 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We Have Already Seen...

Art by Matt Wagner

...sent to Space Academy for retraining after his last mission went horribly wrong, Tek Jansen, in his inimitable style, stumbled upon...danger!

There are, in fact, three more tales in this storyline, which we'll return to in the (obviously) future!

But there's another standalone Case File with a kool twist ending waiing for you at Atomic Kommie Comics on Saturday as part of (obviously) Space Hero Saturdays!

Dare You Miss It???

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Captain's Library STEPHEN COLBERT'S TEK JANSEN "Invasion of the Optiklons!!!" Conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Wed, 13 May 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We Have Already Seen...

...manly Tek Jansen rescues several dozen beautiful green alien women from the diabolical Psychotto!

After doing what Space Heroes tend to do after rescuing beautiful green (or blue, or orange, or purple, he doesn't discriminate) women, Tek is ordered back to HQ by his boss, Over-Seeress Brainia!

When he sees a cheering crowd at the landing pad, Tek naturally assumes they're there to greet him after another successful mission!

But they're really there to greet the Chief of the Optiklons, who bring advanced technology to end disease, hunger, poverty, and numerous other problems!

Tek believes this is some sort of trick, but is ordered to not interfere...

Though Tek returns to Atomic Kommie Comics on Saturday for (obviously) Space Hero Saturdays, that'll be a separate short story.

This particular plotline continues next Wednesday in (what else)...

Wednesday Worlds of Wonder at Atomic Kommie Comics!

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Captain's Library & Theatre MEN INTO SPACE "Dust and the Depths"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Thu, 02 Apr 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We Have Already Seen...

...a four man-expedition led by this stalwart young fellow, USAF Coloney Edwar MacCauley, has reached the Moon!

They discover underground caverns where, during a moonquake, one of the astronauts sacrifices himself to enable the others to climb out safely.
The three survivors return to the ship, then decide to do another probe into the cavers below...

This adaptation of the conclusion of the 2nd episode of the series, "Moon Landing" is almost totally-different than the aired episode!

It's much more ambitious in scope and would've required far more eleborate SFX than what was shown on TV.

We suspect that, due to the lead time to produce the comic (about three months from scripting to illustrating to printing), comic scripter Gardner DuBois worked from an early draft of the episode from James (Shogun) Clavell.
To compare, we offer you the actual episode by clicking HERE, and it'll open in a new window for your viewing pleasure!

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Captain's Library MEN INTO SPACE "Moon Landing"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Tue, 31 Mar 2026 11:00:00 +0000

As the Artemis Moon-Shot Finally Prepares for Launch...

...we're going to show you how we planned to do it even before we sent a single human being into space with the comic adaptation of a TV series from 1959...

To Be Concluded...Thursday!

The Men in Space TV series ran for one season of 38 episodes, the equivalent of three seasons today on broadcast or streaming services, on CBS in 1959-60.

It eschewed typical space-opera stereotypes and plotlines, and presented a realistic "Day after Tomorrow" scenario utilizing info provided by the US Air Force, the then-newly created NASA, actual rocket scientist Dr Werhner von Braun, and designer/futurist Chesley Bonestell!

The story from Dell's Four Color Comics: Men into Space #1083 (1960), adapting the second episode "Moon Landing" scripted by James (Shogun) Clavell was scripted by Gaylord DuBois and illustrated (pencils & inks) by Murphy Anderson!

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Captain's Library MEN INTO SPACE Returns to the Moon...65 Years Later!

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Sun, 29 Mar 2026 11:00:00 +0000

As the Artemis moon shot prepares to blast-off...

...we're going to look at the first TV series that fairly-realistically speculated how it would happen!

These covers, from the novelization of the first few episodes of the TV show, give you an idea of the tone of the series.

There was also a one-shot comic which ran three stories, the first of which is synopsized below!

We're running that tale as part of Space Hero Saturdays this coming Saturday!

The remaining two-part story does cover the lunar launch, journey, and landing!

You'll see those chapters right here on Tuesday and Thursday!

But first, let's take a break the way the spacemen do...

No, we're not advocating smoking, but we did want to spotlight the kool, cutting-edge Chesley Bonestell art the series used as the basis for it's production design!

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Captain's Holiday Library: Christmas Comics SMILIN' ED & HIS GANG "Visit Santa Claus Land"

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Sun, 14 Dec 2025 12:00:00 +0000

One of the most popular kids' shows on radio in the 1940s-50s...

...was Smilin' Ed's Buster Brown Gang (later the Buster Brown Show), which had a long-running comic book spin-off!

Note: while this never-reprinted tale from Buster Brown Comic Book #33 (1953) was written by the show's scripter, Hobart Donovan, it's not an adaptation of a radio or tv episode!

Ed McConnell aka "Smilin' Ed" was a long-time radio personality who had his own (adult-oriented) radio show for over a decade before signing with the Buster Brown Shoe Company in 1944 to host their new juvenile radio series.

Smilin' Ed's Buster Brown Gang began on September 2, continuing on NBC radio every Saturday morning at 11:30 through April 11, 1953.

There was an adventure story to open the show, ads for Buster Brown shoes, and Froggy the Gremlin might sing a song or annoy another cast member, such as Shortfellow the Poet or Alkali Pete the Cowboy.

The character Midnight the Cat actually spoke a few lines on the show and Smilin' Ed was always prone to sing a novelty song or two by plunking his magic twanger.
The term "plunking" may have come from McConnell's habit of plunking the strings on his piano to emphasize some of the action in his stories.
McConnell was also the voice of Froggy, putting on a low, gruff, Popeye-like croak.

However, whenever McConnell had to sing a duet with Froggy, announcer Archie Presby was the voice of Froggy.
When there was a live audience, Archie would sometimes dress up in a frog costume and carry on to the delight of the screaming kids.

Additional cast members included June Foray and John Dehner.
Foray was called upon to voice Midnight and Old Grandie the Piano.
Bud Tollefson, the sound effects engineer, growled the voice of Buster's dog Tige.
Child actor Patrick Curtis (Baby Beau Wilkes in Gone With The Wind) played Buster Brown in 1949-50. "That's my dog Tige, he lives in a shoe, I'm Buster Brown, look for me in there too!"

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20 Shows on 10 CDs
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Captain's Theatre Thanksgiving Turkey MAN CALLED FLINTSTONE

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Sat, 29 Nov 2025 12:00:00 +0000

You've Read the Comic Adaptation HERE and HERE...

...now you can watch it, using wharever communications method you choose, HERE!

Captains Library Thanksgiving Turkey MAN CALLED FLINTSTONE Conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Fri, 28 Nov 2025 12:00:00 +0000

When Last We Left Rock Slag, Secret Agent...

...actually Fred Flintstone, filing in for the injured lookalike spy, he's trying to make contsct with a femme fatale double agent who will lead him to the evil Green Goose!

Unfortunately, Rock Slag, like most secret agents of the era, is something of a horndog, with at least one woman in every major city...

Hope you've enjoyed the turkey!
But, fear not!
Dessert's coming!

Tomorrow: The Actual, Uncut Movie!
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Captains Library Thanksgiving Turkey MAN CALLED FLINTSTONE Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Thu, 27 Nov 2025 12:00:00 +0000

The Final Project from the Original 1960s Flintstones Series...

...was this musical animated feature film capitalizing on the multi-media Spy Craze of the mid-1960s!

At this point, the movie has a music video...

Now back to the comic...

To be Concluded...Tomorrow!

Much like Sean Connery's James Bond, Rock Slag apparently had (at least) one girl in every major city!

Adapted by writer Carl Fallberg from an early version of the movie script by Harvey Bullock and Ray Allen, and penciled by Pete Alvarado, it lacks a lot of the "set piece" action sequences you'll see in the uncut film when we link to it on Saturday, though the parts that are in the comic are literally verbatim from the movie dialogue!

Trivia: As soon as the TV series wrapped production after 166 episodes, the creatives jumped into production on this movie.

While Alan Reed, who performed Fred's voice on the original series also did so here, Henry Corden provided Fred's singing voice, and took over for Reed as Fred in sequel series and movies after Alan passed away!

Note: The comic was issued as part of the ongoing Gold Key Flintstones comic (#36 in 1966), instead of a one-shot!

Despite the TV series' cancellation, the comic was popular enough to continue at Gold Key until #60 in 1970, then switched over to Charlton for another 50 issues until 1977!

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Captain's 50th Anniversary Theatre & Library SPACE: 1999 "Breakaway" Conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Thu, 30 Oct 2025 11:00:00 +0000

We Have Already Seen...

It's the year 1999, and Commander John Koenig has just assumed command of Moonbase Alpha!

His assignment: prepare the Meta Probe crew, who will launch shortly to explore a rogue planet that's entered the Solar System.
But something...not disease nor radiation...is crippling and killing the Meta Probe crew, as well as other Moonbase personnel!
Koenig, Medical officer Dr Helena Russell, and renowned scientist Professor Victor Bergman figure out that magnetic radiation from Nuclear Waste Disposal Area #1 all the affected people worked near caused their physical decay and deaths.
Shortly after they've implemented safeguards, Waste Dump #1's contents combust, destroying the site.
The much larger Nuclear Waste Disposal Area #2, which had been showing similar readings, now begins the same progression towards fission/fusion.
To forestall that, the entire base's staff begin trying to extract and spread out the nuclear waste over the surface of the Moon...

As we continue, you can listen to the audio by clicking HERE

(The audio will open in a new window and you'll have to set the playback at 7:20 to continue from where it left off yesterday.) and read the comic!

Think of it as a podcast...with visuals!

Penciled by Russ Heath & Rich Buckler and inked by Dick Giordano & Terry Austin, this original-material comic was one of two produced by Power Records in 1975.

The scripter of the adaptation of the pilot episode is unknown.

The other comic/record, "Return to the Beginning" wasn't an adaptation of a TV episode, but a new story by an unknown writer.
Here's a kool bonus for you...audio from all seven of Power Records' Space: 1999 episodes!
Just click on the ep's title and the audio will open up in a new window.
"Breakaway" (without the comic book), along with "Death's Other Dominion" and "Mission of the Darians" were released on a 33 1/3 LP record album.
"Return to the Beginning" (also without the comic book), along with another original story, "It Played So Softly On the Ear" and adaptations of episodes "End of Eternity" and "Dragon's Domain"were on a second 33 13 LP record album.

Enjoy!

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Captain's 50th Anniversary Theatre & Library SPACE: 1999 "Breakaway" Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Britt Reid) — Wed, 29 Oct 2025 11:00:00 +0000

You Saw the "Semi-Animated Comic" of This Tale HERE.

Now you can listen to the audio by clicking HERE (The audio will open in a new window.) and read it as a comic!
Think of it as a podcast...with visuals!

Pause the audio, since the story will continue...tomorrow!

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