1. OVERLAPPING CIRCLES

The wind was strong enough to blow the doctor’s long, navy coat against his legs. It carried corn and wheat, oats and grass on it. He traced the field’s flat-top crops – from the outside, they were like one big, thick object. Twenty-five acres of solid, uninterrupted greenery.

“’Till three falls ago, that is,” Jake said over his bare shoulder as they entered the sea of green-and-brown stalks.

“What happened then?”

“Damndest thing, really.” They kept walking, Jake leading. The sun was beating down on their necks, but as surely as it was in the sky, they both were feeling colder with each step.

The farmer was managing fine in his over-alls. It was obvious he was out here a lot by his rough, tan skin and parched blonde hair. Jake Tharpe had run this farm long enough for it to drink and it showed.

“Ah come out in the morning after breakfast, just like usual. Come out here t’do my usuals: you know, check the crops, all that. Thing is, ah start gettin’ near the middle, and ah start feelin’ cold – just like now. Closer to the middle ah get, ah – ah start feelin’ other stuff. Like ah breathed too much gas.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah. And then it was like...ah dunno, like ah had to keep goin’. So ah did, ah kept goin’, and it kept getting’ colder and colder and ah felt weirder and – well, there it was, Doc.”

Doctor Richards winced slightly and held his coat tight against him. “There...?”

Speeding up slightly, Jake pushed a few barely-recognizable cornstalks aside. They were brown and brittle, dead for some time. Perhaps three years.

“There.”

It was vibrantly green, the clearing the stalks gave way to. Grass like summer, perfectly cut and all. Jake first, then Reed (cautiously), they stepped through and in, where it was certainly coldest. The area was circular, although not perfectly, as there seemed to be a few tangents that were just as green. Jake put his thumbs under his suspenders.

“Damn stuff cleared out half my crops,” he said. “Spooked the cows, too. Milk hasn’t tasted right since. ‘Course, I reckon ya don’t have that sorta trouble livin’ in the Big Apple ‘n all...”

“Mm hm,” was all Richards had, kneeling and poking at the ground. The grass bounced back after every prodding. He then looked up at the sky, then all around him. He stood, felt the ground beneath his boots.

“So...?” Jake tipped his straw hat to almost cover his eyes.

“Well – I can’t tell you much from here.” Reed looked around again, then down at the “4” on his chest. “Do you mind if I...?” Reed flicked his head upwards.

“Naw! Oh, man. Naw. Who’d mind that? You go right ahead.”

“Thank you.”

With that there was a sound that resembled the slow stretching of a six foot rubber band. Reed’s torso was already stretched ten – fifteen – twenty feet above his waist, his coat elongated the same. He took his time looking around – all 360 degrees. And with each degree, his brow furrowed a bit more.

He could see the shape of the light green circle he stood in against the darker fields and saw that there were more. Many more. The others were circles as well, each with geometric patterns made of greener grass within.

Reed studied the forms – as many as he could as his neck snaked through the air. All the others branched from theirs in a tangled necklace of green and more green. There was no pattern. Just random circles in a field.

But one caught his eye nearby. It was simple in design, as most of them were. He outlined the circle with his sight and followed an invisible snail shell swirl to the middle. Reed’s eyes were fixed there. A play button was pushed somewhere inside his mind.

They came in flashes: thunder-bearing gangs. A leather-clad woman. Hate. His daughter’s newborn face. And then—

Stop.

Memories. Yet they felt...like something more. Reed rubbed the barely-stubble on his chin with an extended hand.

“Hm.”

Jake’s voice found its way up the bright blue totem pole in his field.

“Y’see, Doc?” Reed was already on his way back down. “Damndest thing.” The graying doctor put his hands in his coat pockets and paced about. It seemed he was just staring at the ground. Finally, without looking up, he spoke.

“How often do these patterns appear?”

“Oh, I dunno...at first, it was like every week, maybe even more. Now it’s leveled off to just once a month or two.” He adjusted his hat. “Still goin’ though. Every now and then one’s just there.”

“And you’ve never seen it?” Each question was read off of a list in Reed’s head, a step towards the hypothesis, and each answer was stored there in great detail.

“Nope,” Jake shook his head, almost ashamedly. “Not me or any of the family. It only happens when we sleep, and if we try t’ stay up, we just end up passin’ out anyway.”

Reed had been making his way around the perimeter of the circle as he listened and ended up speaking distance from Jake. When he listened (which was always), he looked into Jake’s eyes, just like he would anyone. He nodded and noted the answer.

“I see.”

“So – what is it? I mean, I know you’ve only been out here for a little, but – you’re Mister Fantastic, y’know?” He smiled toothily with the last part.

“Please...just Reed. Mister Fantastic only on business. This is just a doctor doing a house call.”

Another grin. “Sure. Reed.”

“As to your question – obviously, what you have is a case of crop circles.”

“Uh-huh.”

“The point is: where are they coming from?” Reed’s eyes wandered away from Jake and around the area. “And, at least from my initial look at things, the answer isn’t glaringly obvious.”

“Some people say it’s aliens,” the farmer added.

“Yes, well – I’ve known a few extraterrestrial beings in my time,” Reed said, coming back to Jake, “And I can tell you with more than a fair amount of confidence that most of them have better things to do than burn random shapes into our fields.”

Not wanting to hurt the farmer’s feelings, Reed continued in a less professional tone.

“Now, that’s not to say that it’s...kids playing pranks or something so localized.”

Jake blinked. “Then what?” And then the words came that Reed hates the most. The ones he tries to avoid at all costs, which he’s working to remove from his vocabulary every day:

“I...I don’t know.” Reed sighed. “Not yet. I am intrigued by this, though. The phenomenon has interested me for some time, and if I could come back again in the next few weeks...“

“Sure! Sure you can come back. It’s not everyday we get a bonafied superhero out here, ‘specially not a member of the Fantastic Four! It’s like – like the Duke himself is comin’ through town. You—“

Reed’s chest appeared to go beep-beep-beep. Jake studied it cautiously, while Reed rolled his eyes at the interruption.

“Please, excuse me – I have to take this.”

The doctor walked to the opposite side of the circle, where he proceeded to poke the symbol and speak in calm, quiet tones that Jake couldn’t make out as much as he tried – which was a lot.

You didn’t see much out there. Not in Missouri, nor at the farm. The best they ever got was a snowy reception of a news broadcast about the next proclaimed “end of the world”, which was always promptly cut off just as things got at their worst. Apparently things turned out okay each time, though. Either that or everything’s gone besides Missouri. Jack wouldn’t have known – he’d never left.

That’s why he would’ve been excited to see Speedball bouncing through, even. Or Frogman. Or one of those mutant freaks. At least they’d be interesting to see. But this – this was the A-List. Equal grounds with Captain America. This was—

“I’m sorry,” Reed said, pulling Jake from his thoughts as he came back over. His face was the same as it had been when he received the call. “I guarantee you that I’ll be back but...well, it seems that something has landed in the middle of New York City, and as usual, it’s our business.”

“Oh, sure!” Jake beamed. “You go off and save the world...the farm’ll be waitin’ for ya!”

“Thank you, Mr. Tharpe,” Reed said, extending his hand. Jake’s eyes grew wide and he took it into his own with fervor.

“Oh, naw, thank you! And congrajulashuns on yer new daughter!”

It took seconds for Reed to get to the Fantasticar with stretching. Rising, he looked over the side at the patterns once more. Yes – he was sure he’d be back.

Jake Tharpe waved feverishly as his guest disappeared into the half-set sun. He would tell the story of how Mister Fantastic himself visited. Maybe Jake even saved his life somehow, if that wasn’t enough. Either way, his family would retell it for generations to come.

2. ANOTHER SATURDAY NIGHT

The monolith sat, as it had for the better part of an hour. It descended from the sky gracefully, slowly, and landed the same, a stroke of black on gray landscape. It sat, and sat – and sat some more. And the people continued to show up.

“How tall do you think it is?” Susan called through cupped hands. A circle of flame had formed around the landmark’s top.

“I don’t know – twenty feet? Thirty?” Johnny made another ring of fire as he took a sharp dive, closer to the growing crowd behind blockades below. He studied the perfectly smooth surface. There was no reflection of the Human Torch staring back – nothing. His hand unlit, he ran it over the monolith ever so lightly. Johnny Storm could’ve lost himself in the depth of the darkness.

“Weird, weird material, though,” he added. “It’s like...it isn’t even there almost. And – actually, it looks like that thing in the Presence liner notes.”

“What?” Sue called.

Johnny took a deep breath and yelled much louder than he knew he had to. “Pre – it’s Zeppelin! Come on, sis!”

“Oh, hush.”

Rocky hands cracked their rocky knuckles nearby, and the Thing said (in a rocky voice), “Whatever it is, I think we’re gonna have to wait for you-know-who to get here. Unless ya want it moved. Or punched.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Ben,” Sue said. Then she cocked one thin, blonde eyebrow and tapped a nail against her painted lips. Johnny was already flying in closer to ground-level. “...Not here.”

The three gathered together in the street in a loose huddle and spoke for a time.

“...Okay,” the Thing said, rubbing his palms together. “I can do all the liftin’ and throwin’ your mind can’t. But what about the sports fans here?”

Sue was unchanged. “Good point,” she said. Immediately the general noise of the crowds were gone completely, and the blockades were no longer necessary as unseen walls kept them at safety. Johnny and Sue’s ears popped. “There. Now we’ll all be safe. Ben?”

“Yes’m,” he saluted off of his chiseled brow and walked over to the monolith. Even the monster the Thing thought himself to be was dwarfed by it. That made him want to throw it even more.

“Whelp,” Ben said, squatting, “here we go.”

There was the flexing of stone muscle and sinew, and some grunting.

“You got it, big guy?” Johnny asked, standing by in the air.

“What’d I – urghh – say, huh?” Said the Thing, through clenched teeth. With a final cracking sound the monolith began to budge and finally was freed, held steadily over the head of Ben Grimm. He turned a full circle and stopped to face his friends with a big orange smile. “Huh? Huh?”

“Cute, Ben,” Johnny said. “Chunk it and I’ll give the people what they really want.”

“Don’t let it spear yer rear on the way back down...” Ben squatted again, nice and low like he learned in high school football: wait, then explode. “Huuugh!”

He did, and the monolith flew a straight upwards trajectory with the Torch in tow. Sue watched them both rise and about fifty feet up, just as it seemed the object would fall back down, her mind reached out and built. The monolith sat in the sky, perfectly still.

“Go ahead, Johnny!” Sue yelled. He gave her a fiery thumbs up and turned to the task at hand.

A steady stream of orange-and-yellow flame came forth from his hands. As it hit the dark surface, there was no gleaming, no noise – again, just nothing. The flame didn’t yield, it simply was absorbed.

“Okay, fine,” Johnny frowned. “Going white hot here, Sue!”

Sue built again. Taking another look at the people below, Johnny grinned. “Eat your heart out, Kubrik.”

The heat grew inside, then outside, and the flame surrounding his body grew until it was like loosely peeled skin. It turned from orange to blue and finally shifted to a perfect white.

A white cube flashed in the sky over New York, so bright that it made the almost-evening look like the sun fell to earth. People still saw afterimages when they closed their eyes. But at their centers was a perfectly constructed black rectangle. The monolith fell as though it were a feather on a gentle vertical wind and settled back into its place.

Johnny followed down and didn’t look happy. “Well, that’s all I’ve got.” His flame died away as a diagonal wave over his body and he landed. “Stupid thing drank all my juice for now.”

“Toldja we should’ve waited for Reed,” the Thing said, trying to remember stretches for his legs and back. Sue was neither serious nor joking.

“If we waited for Reed to show up before doing everything—“ (and a shadow fell over her back that only Johnny and Ben saw) “—Well, I guess we already know what that’s like most of the time, don’t we?”

“Uh, Suz...?” The Thing’s beady blue eyes looked up behind her and a smirk crossed his and Johnny’s face. He pointed his stubby finger. “Might wanna keep the trash talk to a minimum. The hubby’s here.”

Suzie turned with complete confidence and found something, which ended up being a navy boot about her height. On the other side of the invisible wall there was another in front of all the onlookers staring straight up. She followed a thin leg stories high and saw (just barely, and straddling an invisible fence) the love of her life.

Sue said to the air, “Late?”

Reed smiled down at her as he cleared with the other leg and returned to normal size at Sue’s side.

“Just had to finish taking care of a personal case,” he said contently, and the two shared a brief kiss. “Now, what were we talking about...?”

“I was just telling our boys that we don’t need your permission to do everything.”

They looked over at Johnny and Ben, should to shoulder with arms folded and innocent “Who, me?” grins displayed.

Reed parted with his wife and made his way steady way to the monolith. After a short pondering period, that noise sounded again, and he was swirled around the slender object like a vine. He started at the top and recoiled most of the way down, studying as he went. The other three had walked over by then, watching and waiting. Once Reed had looked at a certain area longer than usual, Sue spoke up.

“Find anything?”

“Hm?” Reed looked around below and shook his head faintly. “Oh, no – nothing. Sorry, I started thinking about something else.”

“Somethin’ more important than space-junk landing in the middle of NYC?” Ben said.

“Just thoughts.”

“Again – find anything?” Johnny asked as Reed returned to his lower body. He got comfortable, then looked up.

“Nothing. Of course, why everyone assumes a man can tell you all about something he’s just seen because he discovered the Negative Zone, I’m not sure of either.”

Johnny smiled back coyly. “So you need some stuff?”

“I need some...stuff, yes.” Reed turned to Sue. “Were any of you here for the landing?”

“No,” she said. “One of your machines woke up Franklin and Victoria with its beeping. I turned a few knobs, and we followed the signal.”

“Do you know what machine it was?” There was an underlying sternness mixed with care in Reed’s voice. “Or what knobs you turned?”

“Reed...” Sue began. “No, darling – I don’t. What I do know? When one of Reed Richards’ machines it beeping, it’s either bad or very bad – and that he’d never, ever have a machine he hadn’t wife-proofed.” She crossed her arms. “Plus, we saw it on the news and put two together.”

Reed had a genuine smile. “That’s my girl.”

“So,” Ben said, tired of waiting. “You want me to get yer toolbox, Stretch?”

“If you would. Sue – the walls?”

She was already on it. Airtight silence gave way to a murmur and finally the roar of the crowd. Ben didn’t see a difference between Sue’s walls or the sea of microphones and cameras suddenly at his feet.

“Mister Grimm! Mister Grimm! A comment, please—”

“—FF’s newest addition Victoria doing?“

“—rumors of a romance between Johnny and Eliza Dus—“

“Thing! What is the Fantastic Four’s stance on mu—“

The Thing was, for once, helpless as he backed up with both heavy arms raised. “Look – I just saw what you saw. If ya want us to be able to answer yer stupid questions, get outta the way.”

Ben’s father had once said that the media tends to ask a hundred times more questions than they expect answers. No one budged – and the questions kept coming.

Sue made her sigh a little louder than it had to be. “And so another perfectly good Saturday night is ruined...” Her bright blue eyes sized up the monolith. “Do any of you ever wish we lived in a world where space-junk didn’t play a major role in your plans?”

Johnny and Reed both opened there mouths. No sound escaped – or, at least, it wasn’t heard. Nothing was. Very much at once, a silence was forced.

Something poked at the surface of the monolith from within. Struggling, it finally broke free, and floated up and away a few feet: a perfect, black orb, spinning gently.

More poking, from within the ball. Something on each side – they could have been...arms. Yes, arms, and then legs, black as coal. A bump appeared at the top which swelled into a head, the eyes a dark gray among a stone cold face.

As it landed, the final touch was a staff, which grew from in its hands like a stem. Long, black...

No. Not a staff. An axe.

It was Reed who spoke.

“No, dear. Never.”

-Will Short
Sunday, June 30, 2001
2:00 PM