He is known by many as Invincible Man. He can leap. He can swim. He is virtually indestructible. By dawn this masked wonder is zooming around San Francisco at impossible velocities, pounding down enemies with his powerful breath and saving the good of humanity. On off-hours, this mysterious alien being from an outer world is hiding and protecting his greatest secret: he is living among the mortals in the disguise of gentle-hearted college student Craig Keller.

PART ONE: IN WHICH ALIEN ZAFTAK FROM THE PLANET ZURCON GETS CAUGHT UP IN A BLACK HOLE AND IT SENDS HIS CRAFT PUMMELING INTO THE OUTER REACHES OF EARTH’S ATMOSPHERE.

SOMEWHERE IN DEEP SPACE: A jet-like craft with a pointed nose cruises slowly over the forested surface of the planet Zurcon.

It hovered well above the trees, moving at snail’s pace. Seen through the glass domed window at the top was a humanoid figure, clothed in black and silver armor with a helmet protecting his head. Captain Zaftak, the commander of the Zurcon army, rested his black gloved hands on the steering mechanism, his entire form relaxed and thoughtful.

“Captain.”

Crackling voices came through his intercom.

“Captain.”

“Here. Hand me the news,” Zaftak replied. “Have you found anything?”

“Not much happening over here,” said the voice. “Nothing but air as far as my eyes can see. I’ll get closer.”

Zaftak cursed.

“Send a call as soon as you find something,” he ordered.

“Ten-four, Captain,” the voice answered. “Lieutenant out.”

Zaftak steered the craft closer to the planet, and it gave a loud creaking jolt. His hands let go of the steering mechanism only for a moment.

“Whoa.”

“Captain, what is happening out there?”

The voices were hard to hear through the intercom.

“Are you all right?”

“Do you see anything?”

Zaftak inclined his head to look out the side of the window. The voices continued to jabber, but he no longer heard them. What he saw on his right was enough to draw his attention away.

“What is that?” he breathed in loud wonder.

It resembled a strange blue mist, and it seemed to be growing larger every minute. He began to steer his craft directly toward it.

“Captain, what is out there?” asked an anxious voice.

“I’ll have to come back on in a moment,” Zaftak interrupted. “I’ve got something here.”

He shut off his intercom.

His ship was bathed in the odd blue glow coming from the mass in front of him, and it began to stretch on all sides. The craft jerked this way and that, caught up in a strong force. His hands clenched tighter around the controls as he desperately tried to keep his ship upright. The mist was moving fast.

“Captain. Captain.”

There was no answer from Zaftak’s end of the line. Straight before him and on all sides was nothing but blue. The universe seemed to propel itself before him at impossible speeds. His ship was losing control.

Over and over again it tumbled through space, somersaulting faster and faster. He could no longer trace his location; the craft had gone completely off course. He couldn’t tell if he was shouting anything or not, but he was sure he was. The tip of the craft was pummeling straight down, and Zaftak felt his hands slide off the steering mechanism. He shut his eyes tightly, knowing he would soon be done for. The mist was a black hole; it had caught his ship in its centrifugal force and had swallowed him up.

The craft continued its somersaulting for what felt like miles, until he realized he wasn’t moving anymore. The turning gradually slowed down when the ship shot out the other end of the misty cloud, and then it righted itself to another slow, gentle cruise.

Zaftak opened his eyes, but only for a moment. His hands reached out to grip the controls when the ship jolted forward into yet another strong force. This time he was moving too fast, and the ship was aimed straight down. The outside of the ship began to glow red-hot, and it became surrounded by a white transparent layer of dust. There he was, Captain Zaftak of Zurcon, his spacecraft now the brilliant light of a comet, streaking straight into the gravitational pull of planet Earth. Once he entered the atmosphere, the tail end of his ship streamed smoke and fire. It was too late to do anything else. He raised his arms over his forehead to shield himself, just as his damaged, smoking ship landed nose-first on the banks of a silver lake. A loud crashing sound was the only evidence.

Zaftak lay motionless over the dashboard, his head crushed against the steering mechanism. His clothes were in tatters and there were dark spots here and there on his skin from the fire, but the most miraculous thing was that they were disappearing at an abnormally fast rate. The cuts and scrapes actually vanished back into the skin, leaving it pure and spotless, for Zaftak’s greatest ability was the power to rapidly regenerate himself at every moment he was struck.

The top of the craft slowly opened, and he lifted his head weakly, tilting it first to the right, and then to the left, speeding up the healing. He reached up and removed his helmet, his eyes adjusting to the strange surroundings of his new environment. He’d have to find some way to repair his ship; the nose was submerged in the water, while the rest was on land, but its entire tail end had been blown off in the descent to Earth. Seeing the sight of it made him bang his head down again on the hard metal surface of the left wing.

“I knew it,” he muttered to no one in particular.

He glanced down at his hands, and when he removed his gloves, he saw that his hands, too, were healing. All the black, charred, burned look had disappeared, and even he could not explain how or why he could do it. The exact cause was a mystery.

Raising his head again, he heaved a fluttering sigh, rippling the surface of the still water. There was a cracking noise, and the area he had breathed over was suddenly turning to ice.

Weird, he thought. First I can heal myself abnormally quickly, and now I have super-breath. Would this strange world get any stranger?

His eyes were darting this way and that, and when he aimed them towards the sky, he placed a hand against his forehead to shield them against the glare.

That must be their sun, he thought, noticing the glowing golden ball above. He never could guess what Zurcon’s sun looked like, since it hardly ever rose on his side of the world, but he had some idea now.

How had he come here? He remembered getting caught up in the black hole and then coming out the other end, but then he began to remember everything else, his brain gradually picking it all up one at a time. He’d entered this world through some sort of atmospheric layer, which explained the burns on his body. Traveling at high velocities through space put much pressure on his aircraft. He didn’t even need to touch the sides of it to know his craft was scalded. The fire was out, but smoke still swirled up from the damaged tail.

Since I’m obviously going to be stuck here a while until my ship is fixed, I’d might as well get to know the area, he thought. This planet looks so much like Zurcon, and yet I know I’m not home. Why? Why does this world look so much like my own? Where am I?

He’d heard of a planet in another galaxy far away from his own, called Earth, where there were alien beings who looked just like himself. Perhaps this was Earth, and if so, then that meant he’d traveled millions and millions of light years without realizing it. Earth was somewhat primitive, he remembered, much more than Zurcon, but he hoped the aliens here were kind, and could help him out. They might be able to understand him, but just in case, he practiced what he was going to say in small talk to make it easier. Zurconians had a large range of vocabulary words, most of which were not spoken on Earth. For the moment, it appeared he and his ship were alone. Alone in a deep, unknown world, a world that already looked too big for him.

ON THE SHORES OF THE LAKE: An Earth couple, Christopher and Tempe Craig Keller, are out on a boat fishing upon their discovery of the unusual craft.

“Chris,” Tempe Keller started, goading on her husband, “remind me why I came out on this fishing excursion again?”

A light wind moved across the lake slowly, rocking the boat from side to side.

Christopher Keller laughed.

“I could use all the help I can get in hauling in all those big fish,” was his response. “It’s part of enjoying the experience, honey. The outdoors isn’t the outdoors until you know what to do in it.”

“Just like what you said last time,” Tempe muttered, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think the fish are biting today. It’s the wrong time to be out. I’ve just been sitting here with my line dipped in the water for hours, and I haven’t felt a single tug.”

“You’re too pessimistic.” Christopher looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ve gone out fishing at this same time for years, and usually by the end of the day I get something. You have to be patient.”

“I’m done ‘being patient,’” Tempe told him. “I want to do something.”

“Not really the outdoors woman, are you?” Christopher joked.

He knew his wife too well, and was always joking about her lack of interest in outdoor activity. She didn’t like camping, she didn’t like fishing, and she basically didn’t like anything else that had to do with the mountains. She was a reader; she liked to sit in her chair at home and escape into fantastic worlds with famous characters. The Odyssey, The Iliad, Tolkien, Kipling, all of them. There wasn’t one book she had not read.

“If we had to wait so long to catch fish, I should’ve brought my Mark Twain novel to finish up,” she said. “I only have about fifteen or so pages left to read.”

“Just wait a moment longer,” Christopher told her.

Their little boat jumped, and the two of them stared downwards into the water.

“Did you feel that?” Tempe asked. “It feels like we hit a rock.”

Christopher was leaning down over the water.

“Do you see anything?” Tempe came up next to him.

“Maybe it was the wind.” He straightened, focusing back on the fishing.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure that jerky jolt was really the wind,” Tempe scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and reeling in her fishing line. “I highly doubt we’re going to catch any fish even if they were biting. I’ve been sitting here for so long my back feels like stone.”

She shifted her weight and clutched at her left hip.

The boat bumped again, only this time, it felt like it was trying to move forward and couldn’t go any farther.

“Heh. No wonder,” Christopher said, an expression of triumph showing on his face.

“What happened?” Tempe demanded.

“We hit some ice,” he told her.

“Ice? There’s no ice here,” she insisted. “Not at this time of year. We didn’t hit ‘ice.’”

“Look.”

Christopher pointed.

Floating alongside their boat was unmistakably a small slab of ice, but it was worn thin, as if the weather was too warm to freeze it all the way through.

“First time I’ve seen something like that,” Christopher remarked.

“Yeah, and in the middle of summer,” was Tempe’s reply. “I told you we didn’t get ice.”

Her eyes went out of focus, aimed at something far off in the distance.

“Chris?” Her expression changed.

“Yeah.”

When he turned to face her, it was her turn to point.

“You see that?” she asked.

A strange black mass came into view, getting closer as the boat glided towards it. It looked like a giant machine of some sort, and its front end was submerged in the shallow end of the lake.

“Yeah, I see it,” Christopher said. “Looks like somebody’s airplane went off course and crashed. Let’s see if we can get closer.”

He picked up a pair of oars and handed the other pair to Tempe, who didn’t even need to be told what to do. She firmly picked hers up without a word and began rowing through the water.

“What do you suppose it is?” she asked when they had docked their boat alongside the strange craft. Up close, it was a monstrosity, and made them and their boat look like toy figurines. “Who could’ve built something so large?”

“I don’t know,” Christopher responded. “I’ve seen some giant things in my lifetime, but none like this. Someone must have a very super intelligent mind.”

“Well, duh,” Tempe stated. “This thing’s huge. It must’ve crashed after whoever was driving it couldn’t keep it upright. I know I wouldn’t be able to fly something like this too far. It’s so heavy it probably can’t move too long of a distance.”

“Who do you think it belongs to?” Christopher asked. “What is it?”

“It’s a giant airplane,” Tempe figured, “or something more than that. I don’t know; you tell me what you think it might be, Mr. Mechanic. I’m sure it belongs to somebody.”

She began walking around to the other side, admiring its hard metal surface and observing every corner of its sleek design.

“It looks like something out of ‘Star Trek,’” Christopher commented.

“Or ‘Star Wars,’” Tempe added. “You know what it reminds me of? It reminds me of one of those war planes used during World War II. You know those small super-sonic jets that were flown over Japan when we attacked them?”

“You mean the bomber planes?” Christopher was neutral. “Nah. This is more like an army tank with wings. It’s too big to be a bomber.”

“It was just an idea,” Tempe muttered, keeping her words to herself.

“Look what it’s made of,” Christopher commented. “The tail end is missing, but the parts that are still intact aren’t even burned. What sort of material do you think this thing might be made out of? It looks like metal, and yet it feels lighter.”

“Hmmm,” Tempe murmured, her face displaying concentration. “I wonder. Maybe it’s some sort of invulnerable alloy thing that’s not even of this world.”

Her expression grew serious.

“Get real,” she cried out. “I know what you’re thinking, Christopher Keller, and no; that’s my answer. It is not an alien spaceship, because everybody knows there are no such things as aliens. They only exist in science fiction stories.”

“Boy, what sort of comment is that, coming out of the world’s greatest reader?” Christopher scoffed. “You’d be the first person I knew to believe in that sort of thing.”

A loud whistle reached their ears, and Tempe stood stiff, listening.

“Stay back,” she whispered.

Feet crunched on the dry ground, and Christopher moved in next to his wife, ready to take on any intruder who stepped out into their path.

A figure came out of the trees, walking towards them at a fast pace. He was tall with brown hair, and he was clothed in some kind of unusual costume that was all silver and black. Judging by its look, it seemed to be made of almost the same stuff the ship was made up of. Christopher remembered Tempe’s words.

Invulnerable alloy…

“Hello,” the voice called, and they looked around wildly for the source of the sound, believing it had come from somewhere behind them, but Christopher was the first one to figure out that it had been the stranger who had spoken.

“Hello,” he called back.

“What’s going on?” Tempe asked. “Does he speak our language?”

“It’s okay, honey,” Christopher assured her. “I don’t think this guy means us any harm. He seems to understand our language, and look; he’s no older than a kid.”

“But who is he?” Tempe asked. “Where does he come from? He seems to have appeared out of nowhere!”

“Can you help me?” the young man asked once he got close enough. “My ship crashed here, and now I don’t know where I am. I’ve been wandering around here aimlessly trying to locate someone whom I thought could help, and it must be a stroke of luck I stumbled upon you. My feet are killing me.”

“Now just one moment,” Christopher started. “You speak our language, and you’re saying your ‘ship’ crash-landed here. You’re not talking about that giant monstrosity behind us by any chance, because if you are, it’s one hell of a large aircraft. My wife and I thought it was a bomber jet.”

“It’s just a spaceship,” the stranger answered. “I was flying it over Zurcon when it got caught in a draft from the inner atmosphere. That’s how I ended up here. I was wondering if you could tell me where I am, and maybe help me get back up on the right track.”

“Zurcon? Where’s Zurcon?” Tempe spoke.

“That’s where I’m from,” the stranger replied. “It’s my home planet, and I need to get back before my entire army comes looking for me. It’s millions of light years from here.”

“Your army?” Christopher was puzzled.

“I’m a commander,” the stranger said. “Red Division. My squadron got left behind in the stumble. My name’s Captain Zaftak.”

“Oh, well, I’m Christopher Keller, and this is my wife, Tempe,” Christopher explained, gesturing to his wife. “You’re a long way from home, Captain. This is Earth.”

“Earth.” The stranger nodded as if understanding. He glanced upwards. “I know of Earth. I was told there were people there who looked just like me. Seems I really did travel a long distance after all.”

“But how did you manage to fly this thing all the way here?” Tempe managed to ask the big question. “It’s so big I don’t think anyone can get it off the ground, and besides, you lost your whole back end. What are we supposed to do with it? I don’t know how to get to Zurcon; I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Zurcon is far away, that’s why,” Zaftak answered. “It’s not even in this galaxy. I traveled light years to get here without knowing how far I had gone. Earthlings don’t understand other cultures; I was warned about that. To fly something like this, you need just the right touch.”

His hand reached out to touch the side.

“Careful,” Christopher cautioned, holding out his hand to stop him.

Zaftak’s hand came away red and burnt, but the look soon disappeared.

Christopher and Tempe stared at him in absolute shock.

“What are you?” Tempe felt the question burning in the back of her mind.

“How did you do that?” Christopher asked.

Zaftak swiped his newly-healed hand down his pants.

“Don’t ask,” he answered solemnly. “I don’t even know myself.”