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The Power of Four!
The Power of Four!


September 9, 1967.

The small twin-engine plane cruised over the Pacific Ocean, heading for a private airstrip in California. The pilot grinned behind his goatee and shades and shook his head in wonder. "I don't believe this," he said for the millionth time. "I've ferried Mike before, but I never dreamed I'd be ferrying all four of you! Wow! Me -- ferrying the Monkees!"

Davy Jones grinned at the pilot. "For what it's worth, Jason... thanks." A loud groan erupted from the rear of the plane. "You okay back there, Micky?"

Micky Dolenz lay in the aisle behind Davy's chair. "Just... peachy!" he gasped out, then groaned again. Peter Tork looked up from where he was, holding Micky's head, and smiled at Davy. "He's airsick, Davy! He'll be okay once we touch down."

"Don'!" Micky groaned. Three men laughed. Mike Nesmith would have, but he was slumped in his seat. His booted feet were crossed on the back of Micky's empty chair, and his green wool hat was pulled over his eyes.

Jason suddenly frowned. "Hey, Davy. Look at that!"

Davy blinked. "Is that cloud...PINK?"

Peter looked out of the window. "Hey, there's an island down there. Jason, where are we?" Jason read off a list of co-ordinates, and Peter gasped, "That's Martini Atoll!"

"Where the atomic test was last week?" Davy asked. At Peter's nod, he yelled, "Jason!" But Jason hadn't corrected their course. The plane was already sailing through the pink cloud. Mike woke with a start.

"I'm still dreamin'," he decided. "We're glowin'!" Five bodies glowed with radiation. The engines suddenly sputtered and died.

"Buckle up!" Jason ordered. "And secure Dolenz! We're goin' down!"

"This is NOT doin' my stomach any good, guys!" Micky groaned.

The plane hit hard and broke in two. Several minutes later, the five struggled out of the wreckage.

"Where are we?" Davy whispered. "Martini Atoll?"

Peter shook his head. "No. There's too little devastation. I'd say we're on either Jacobs Rock or Canine Atoll."

Davy did a quick head count. "Hey," he gasped, "where's Micky?"

The others began to yell Micky's name. They stopped when Micky yelled, "Cut it out, will ya? I'm right here!"

"Are you all right?" Mike asked.

"Sure... but I'm gonna be deaf if you don't quit screaming!"

"Micky," Mike asked, "Where are you?"

Micky made an exasperated sound. "I'm right here! Right in front of..." Then his voice died off. "Oh, man," he whispered, "you can't see me?" Four heads shook no. Micky screamed. "I can't even see me!! I'm... invisible!" Then he took a deep breath and concentrated. The very air seemed to thicken as Micky shimmered into view. Jason, unnoticed, slipped into the jungle.

"Try a force-field," Mike said abruptly.

"What?" Micky asked.

Mike held up a hand. "There's a character in one of Christian's comics that can turn invisible and project invisible force-fields." Micky cocked an eyebrow and Mike grinned. "Yes, I read my son's comic books! So sue me!"

A huge grin split Micky's face. "I did it!" he crowed.

Davy reached for Micky and his hand was stopped by something rock-hard. "He did it!" Davy pushed on the field. Micky winced. "Hey, man! I FELT that!"

Suddenly Mike noticed Jason was gone. He was puzzling about that when Micky called, "Mike! Heads up!" Mike felt a field careen into his stomach. But then... to his amazement... his body folded around it like a big rubber band! Mike brought his body back to normal proportions, then stretched his fingers out to a foot long. "Elastic!" he gasped. "My whole body... elastic!"

"Like another character in those comics," Peter said.

"That's two," Davy breathed.

Suddenly, the plane exploded. Bits of burning shrapnel sailed toward the four. Micky stepped forward. "Don't worry, guys. My shields will..." And a large chunk struck him in the forehead. Micky sank to the ground, dazed.

"Too much talkin', not enough protectin'!" Mike cried. "Maybe I can..." And a chunk hit Mike on the side of the head, knocking him out.

"NO!" Peter screamed. All the bits of shrapnel came to a stop in midair, inches from the two Monkees left standing. "Oh, man..." Peter breathed, "did I do that?" Davy stared at the shrapnel. Then he looked at Peter -- and gasped. Peter's eyes were glowing bright blue. "What is it?" Peter asked, startled.

"Your... eyes..."

Peter shook his head. "If I stopped it...I should be able to..." All the chunks of shrapnel floated back to the plane. Peter's eyes stopped glowing. "Telekinesis!" he exclaimed. "I'm... I'm a telekinetic!"

"A tele-WHAT?" Davy asked.

"I can move things with my mind!" Peter turned to Davy and grinned. "I'm telekinetic!"

"'Ey," Davy grinned. "Your eyes changed color. They glowed blue when you did 'at, and now they ARE blue!"

Peter's grin grew larger. "I always wanted blue eyes. Come on, let's wake up sleeping uglies here."

Davy frowned. 'What about me?' he thought. 'I'm the only one still normal!' Then he realized what he'd thought and looked around. 'The only one? Where's Jason?'

Two hours later Micky, protected by a force field, picked amid the rubble of the ruined plane. "Plane's totaled," he groused. "Jason's still missing, and now we've got no way to contact the outside world! Guys... we're marooned!" He sighed, frustrated, and called, "What am I looking for?"

"Remnants of the radio," Mike replied, "or what caused that blast."

Micky shot him a D'UH! look. "Spilled gas did!"

Mike shook his head. "Sure, there was gas spilled -- but there was no fire. It shouldn't have blown, but it did! Why?"

Micky grinned. "Come over here and tell me why."

"Can't. That field only protects you."

Micky shook his head. "Join me. You can find it yourself."

Mike walked over. After poking around for a few minutes, he said, "Yes... I can see the microphone! Or what's left of it, anyway. That slag around it must be the radio."

Davy sighed and walked into the jungle. "BO-ring," he moaned. "Jason!" he called. "Jason, can you hear me?" He emerged in a clearing. Standing across from him was Jason. "Jason!" Davy sighed. "Finally!" A cold smile spread over the pilot's face. "Jason?" Davy frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Jason snapped his fingers. Davy screamed as fire broke out all around him. He raised his hands to shield his face. Above the din of the fire, he heard Jason say, "Pyrokinesis, Jones. The power to create fire. Specifically, a ring as high as you are!"

Davy cried out, "You tried to kill us! You flew us through that cloud hoping to poison us with radiation!! ...You blew up the plane!!"

"Now that you know that, I'm afraid I can't let you live to--" Jason's voice died off into a gasp. Davy noticed the intense heat wasn't near his face anymore. He lowered his hands and looked down... and down... and DOWN... yelling in surprise. He was over ten feet tall! Jason grinned. "Well... I guess we just found out your power, Jones! No matter." The flames began to climb toward Davy's face again. Davy panicked for a second, then realized that he felt... stronger! He took a deep breath and blew hard. The fire went out like a birthday candle. Jason staggered, a hand going to his head. Davy brought a fingertip down on top of Jason's head. Jason crumpled, unconscious.

Micky emerged into the clearing, grinning. "So... the shrimp can change size!" Davy grinned back, returning to normal size. "Big and small. And I'm really strong both ways!"

"Both ways? How d'you know that?"

"I'm not sure. I guess the same way you can tell whenever you've created a force field."

Night fell. Peter built a fire and the Monkees huddled around it. "That radiation changed us all," Mike said, "but all our powers won't do one whit of good if we don't get off this island!"

Davy mused, "Maybe Pete's TK?"

Peter grinned at him. "What, can't you say 'telekinesis'?" Davy had to admit he couldn't. Peter chuckled. "No, Davy. It won't work. Micky?"

Micky shook his head as he fed a piece of wood into the fire. "Nope. Davy?"

Davy chuckled. "I can't get THAT tall!"

Mike shook his head. "I have a limit, too. It's weird -- We all seem to instinctively know the limits of our..." And a brilliant light flared around them.

"Look!" Davy cried, pointing to the sky. "It's Jason!"

"Flying!" Mike gasped.

"How?" Peter shook his head.

"He must've turned his pyrokinetic power on himself and turned into living flame!" Mike exclaimed. "I guess he's lighter than air in that form, and he can fly! Shoot ... he's got away!"

"Not yet!" Micky cried, darting into the air.

"Micky!" Davy gasped.

Peter's eyes glowed and he shot up after Micky. "Wait for me!"

"Pete!" Mike cried.

Davy laughed. "Force-fields and tele... TK! We've got a pair of fliers!"

"Jason!" Peter shouted.

The fire-being turned and smiled. "Well, well. Tork... and Dolenz!"

"Jason," Peter asked, "why did you try to kill us?"

Jason snorted. "Mike and his singing! He's always been better than me! Then, when he got famous... I couldn't stand it! I hate all of you! I took the job for a chance to kill you... but I miffed it! You're still alive... but not for long!" Jason unleashed a bolt of fire, creating a crackling circle around Micky. Micky screamed.

"My shield!" he yelled. "He set my shield on fire!" Without thinking, he expanded the burning forcefield in all directions. Peter saw it coming and evaded it, but Jason was struck by it and knocked unconscious. His fire went out and he began to fall. Peter caught him neatly. The instant Jason passed out, the fire on Micky's shield disappeared. Micky dropped the field around him, leaving only the ones below his feet that kept him in the air.

"You okay?" Peter called.

Micky grinned shakily. "Yeah... he just scared me half-silly. Let's get back to the others. Uhm... you bring him, okay?"

Peter chuckled. "Sure. Let's go."

The Monkees spent the rest of the night keeping Jason unconscious. When dawn came, Mike stretched his neck to see above the treeline. "Guys!" he shouted. "Guys, I see a ship coming!"

"Get down here, Mike!" Peter snapped. "What if they see you?"

Mike retracted his neck to normal proportions. "Point taken," he chuckled. The ship sailed right up to the island, and the Monkees met it on the beach. A young woman stepped down the gangplank and gasped. "The Monkees? What are YOU doing here?"

"Our plane crashed," Peter answered. "Can you get us out of here?"

The woman ignored him. "We saw a battle in the sky a few hours ago -- two men fighting a fire-being! We sailed here to investigate. Do you know anything about that?"

Micky couldn't stifle a grin. "A battle? We didn't see a battle, did we, Pete?"

Peter grinned, too. "No. We didn't see a battle." He was telling the truth. He and Micky couldn't have seen the battle-- They were too busy fighting it! The woman gave the Monkees permission to board her yacht, and they cruised toward California.

Several hours later, Micky came up on deck to find Mike gazing aft. "Mike?" Mike turned. Water glistened on his face. "Hey," Micky walked over. "Sea spray, or tears?"

Mike managed a shaky grin. "Which do you think?" The tremor in his voice told the tale. "Why'd we have to leave Jason behind?"

Micky sighed. "Mike... Jason is insane. He tried to kill us twice. He'll try again if he ever gets off Jacobs Rock."

"I know... but it still bugs me."

Micky squeezed Mike's shoulder and said, "Come below when you feel like it." He dropped his hand and turned to go.

"Hey, old buddy?" Mike said. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not trying to make my problems invisible." Micky smiled and walked below. Mike turned to face the island, which had long since faded from sight. More tears fell. "Good-bye Jason," he whispered. "Good-bye, cousin."

the end