Disclaimer:  We do not own any of the characters used here.  Nor the ones satirized.  Through some evil miscarriage of justice, no profit is made from this venture.  However, we vow not to rest until these forces of villainy are conquered.

Description:  Many mysteries of the plateau have their answer in the form of a mild mannered botanist for a great metropolitan zoological society.  If only the other explorers had known….

Spoilers:  We prefer to think of our references as improving rather than spoiling; but we’re digressing, references abound across all three seasons.

Dedication:  To Michael Sinelnikoff for the wonderful hours of enjoyment he has given us and his charming interpretation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Summerlee.  We raise our glasses of Amontillado in a toast to him.

Luckily no one noticed.

The brawny hunter was too dazed from the hallucinogenic fungus to even consider how the seemingly frail, elderly professor was able to drag him from the precipice on which he dangled to the safety of the ground.

“I really must be more careful, if I’m to protect my secret identity.”  Summerlee carefully placed his glasses back on, confident that they would disguise him.

***

It had all started with a bee sting.  Not a simple bee sting, of course.   No, when a bee is five feet long, there’s nothing simple about it.  It might not have done anything but killed him, except for the ingestion of the queen’s royal jelly.  Thanks to Marguerite’s expert care and thanks to his friends’ daring raid on the giant beehive, he was on the road to full recovery. Or so he believed. Upon his recovery, the elderly professor seemed in all outward aspects to be much the same.

But slowly he became aware that not all was as it seemed.  There were changes in him, things that he could do or be that he could not have done or been before.  He was frightened at first of his strange new abilities, wondering what living on this strange plateau was doing to him.  But bit-by-bit, he began to realize what was happening.  And only he knew of the amazing feats he was now capable of.  It seemed wisest not to let the others know. 

(Authors’ asides:

“Why can’t he let them know?”

“Because he’s a superhero, now!”

“So?”

“So have you ever seen a superhero without a secret identity?”

“Yeah, all the best ones have them.”

“Okay, you two win.”)

A slight buzzing sound in his head was the first sign. It kept him awake at night. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The lack of sleep made him cranky and disagreeable, and his companions began to worry.

When he noticed his powers for the first time, he had considered it a hallucination, created by lack of sleep. He had been at the base of the treehouse, looking for a pot to replant an interesting new species of Althaea officinalis.  A large box was in his way and he absent-mindedly lifted it out of the way. He thought nothing of it, until Roxton and Malone came out of the elevator, shed their shirts and tried to lift it to transport it into the treehouse. Those two strapping shirtless young lads were unable to lift the box together, while he had moved it easily on his own.

“We need to empty some of its contents. Challenger put several pieces of heavy equipment in there,” Roxton had explained to Malone as he reached over and stretched his arms with a small grunt, the muscles of his biceps tightening. “He always does that.  For a visionary he certainly lacks some basic skills in packing and transporting goods.”  Malone nodded his agreement as he wiped the sweat from his body with the shirt he carried in his hand.

Summerlee had just stared at them, unable to figure out how he could have lifted a box that defied the strength of two strong men, many years his junior.  Maybe he hadn’t.  A hallucination, no doubt.

The buzzing in his head disappeared after a while. He was happy when his sleep returned. His much improved disposition wasn’t mentioned at the treehouse, but he knew that his bad mood had worried his friends.

But by now, Summerlee knew something was going on with him.  His body was undergoing changes.  He was now faster than a bullet speeding from one of Roxton’s guns.  He was stronger than a brontosaurus.  Able to leap massive cliffs in a single bound.  A stone he kicked suddenly flew hundreds of yards.  A tree, firmly rooted in the jungle soil, was torn out by him as if it were a matchstick. A puff of his breath could blow a raptor away. Or was it halitosis? Whatever.  

All of these tricks were but child’s play, of course.  However the plateau soon provided an opportunity for him to use his new-found strength to save lives.  Saving Roxton in that cave was just the beginning.  From then on, apemen, dinosaurs and lava flow, it seemed that there was no end to the opportunities for protecting his companions.  He was delighted to become a full-fledged asset to the expedition.  Pity only he knew it.

But it was becoming difficult to help them out so unobtrusively.  “Perhaps if I had a costume to wear, that would make it easier.  With a good costume they’ll confuse me with one of the many strange apparitions on the plateau.”  Professor Summerlee puffed on his pipe and considered his options.  “Primary colors, of course, so easy to find in nature. A homage to the bees maybe? Black and yellow, with a bit of fuzz?”  He reviewed the plants he already found certain something could be used.  For days he agonized over the right design to convey his superpower qualities to the many plateau communities he would come to rescue.

Soon the costume was ready and carefully concealed beneath his white safari clothes. The red and yellow top was very comfortable, knitted out of soft goat hair wool, which he had dyed yellow and black. He used a different material for the tights and they chafed rather awfully.  He considered some sort of emblem for the chest.  Maybe a capital S for Summerlee, or B for Bee since that’s from where his powers were derived.  Although that did seem rather obvious.  Maybe something subtler.  Perhaps a stylized bee stinger.  “Hmm, that has possibilities.”

(Authors’ asides:

“We could get into trouble there”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it – a bee stinger….”

“Oooh.”

“How come every time I get an idea, you think double entendre?”

“We know where your mind is.”

“Let’s just hold off on the rest of costume.”

“You guys never let me have any fun.”)

The costume definitely needed a bit more work. But he couldn’t focus on that now; his next opportunity to be protector and lifesaver came quickly. 

A sect of religious fanatics had taken him and Challenger captive.  Summerlee was set to wait until he was alone in the cell and take action.  Then Challenger insisted on joining him and he had to wait until the last minute.  There, with a little unobtrusive assistance, he helped Challenger break free.  A few puffs of breath kept the flames from Challenger and the child.  His superhuman hearing had detected Roxton, Marguerite and Malone approaching.  All was well.  Although, he was a bit disappointed he didn’t get to use his costume.  “Ah, well, maybe next time.”

His improved hearing was a mixed blessing.  While it was good in letting him know when to interfere, Roxton and Marguerite’s bickering was annoying at times and Malone’s flirting techniques were so inept, Summerlee constantly felt the urge to take the boy aside and give him a lecture in wooing women. If he had waffled like Malone, his Anna would have married Bruce Banner.

His improved physical condition made it easy for him to keep up with them on the jungle hikes.  For the sake of appearances he let them think he was still having difficulties. It was heart-warming to see Marguerite always stand up for him, when Roxton lost his patience and accused him of slowing everyone down.  Summerlee really couldn’t understand why Veronica was always so rude to Marguerite.  Anyone who had a heart for an old man with a secret superhero identity couldn’t be all bad. 

On their trip to the Paradise Valley, he thought he was going to have to intervene when the beast herded them into its lair.  He had delayed it briefly on the trail giving his companions time to escape.  He was all set to step forward and send that creature about its business, when the back exit to the cave had revealed itself so fortuitously.  Well, at least at the time it seemed fortuitous.  He thought he would have to reveal his secret, when they were held in the cage, but then Marguerite came to the rescue.  Of course he made his own contribution.  His newly acquired vision powers had enabled him to calculate the precise spot that would destroy the Paradise tree.  His companions simply assumed his botany skills were responsible.

This superhero business wasn’t easy.  He solved the problem of the chafing tights when Challenger invented a new synthetic fabric that was as soft as it was durable.  The costume’s improved fit was very welcome, when Summerlee detected that he had gained the power to fly.  And not a slow, buzzing bee fly technique, no, his was a most powerful and fast flight.  Whenever he was unobserved, he shed his safari suit, hid it in a hollow tree stump next to the electric fence and flew around the plateau.  Flying was certainly a much more convenient mode of transportation than hiking or using the slow balloon.

He continued to experiment with additions to his costume. A utility belt seemed a good idea, so he could attach a water bottle to it. One must stay hydrated on longer flights!   The belt passed muster and he kept it.   He looked around until he found a cave where he could stow his growing pile of gadgets and costumes.  After a short consultation with the bats residing there, courtesy of his new sonar abilities, the flying rodents agreed to discourage unwanted visitors.  His bat cave proved to be much more efficacious than his other hideaway.   Besides which every time he had gone to the hollow tree there was some vertically challenged individual making cookies.

Next he tried a golden lasso but that wasn’t conducive to a discreet appearance, the bulge under his coat was most unsightly. He considered abandoning the bee look for a while and show his patriotism by creating a new costume based on the Union Jack, but then he decided that a national symbol shouldn’t be turned into garment.  After all if the British Empire got wind of it, it might strike back.

The next adventure forced Summerlee to put commuting on a whole new level.  Between trying to talk Veronica out of adopting an infant without the proper paperwork and frantic flights to the plane of reality where Roxton, Malone and Marguerite searched for magic emeralds, he broke several superhero flight speed records. “A mileage program for superheroes might be a good idea,” he mused.  “I’m certainly racking up the miles!  I could get upgrades to business class on Challenger’s balloon flights”