Disclaimer - This work of fiction is written for personal entertainment only, and all characters and concepts pursuant to the Power Rangers are the property of Saban, Inc. There is absolutely no intention to receive a profit or to defraud anyone.

"This tale grew in the telling," to quote my personal favorite author of fantasy epics, and there is much I want to say about my saga", but it is time to let the tale stand on its own. Materials from other sources are either referenced as such in the text or credited in the acknowledgements at the end, which includes a rather lengthy list of thank yous. Two extraordinary wonderful and PR knowledgeable editors have reviewed chapters for me, but I did not always accept their excellent advice. All final grammatical choices are my responsibility.

The first three chapters of "One Entity of Good" were initially posted in late 1999 on Froog T. SqueezyCheese's website. My deepest gratitude to her for her early encouragement. Some minor editing has been incorporated into this version posted in May 2001.

Original material is copyrighted 1999 by Eva Beckwith. Please do not distribute in any format without permission from the author. I would classify this story in the quest genre. Thanks for reading it.

Out of great evil can evolve great good. . . .

Horrified, Billy looked up at the view screen as the final scenes played out of the destruction of Earth. His attempt to destroy Dialeteker with a bomb constructed out of Alpha had been futile. The force beam striking out from the Staff of Kronos -- the same beam that had prevented the detonator in the bomb from going off -- had scattered the robot into pieces and knocked Billy breathless face down to the floor.

Now he pushed his upper body up by his arms, repelled by the stench coming from the flowing floor length black robes of Dialeteker, who loomed as a dark spectre over the former Blue Ranger. Days without nourishment had robbed Billy of physical strength; disappointment that his bomb had failed, the bomb for which his faithful friend, Alpha the robot, had given up his existence to create, robbed him of hope; and now the destruction of his homeworld gave him despair.

"Your puny explosive would not have affected me, Earthling," boomed Dialeteker, his visage hidden by his cowl, his long skeletal arms raised high in triumph, the immense sleeves falling back to his bony elbows. He grasped in his right hand the elongated Staff of Kronos, its pulsating, glowing, golden bulb extended upwards. "Now watch, as all you once knew and loved ends forever. But you ... you I will keep, my prisoner eternally, a witness to my greatness, the magnificence that will only increase as, after Earth, I next destroy Triforia, and then Aquitar!"

* * * * *

A teardrop of remorse slid down Tommy's left cheek, even as a muscle twitched just above his jaw line. "Aw, man, I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for leaving Billy in this situation for so long," he muttered emotionally as he wiped his cheek with the back of his right hand.

Jason studied the monitor steadfastly, but not impassively. "It couldn't be helped, it was the only way," he tried to reassure Tommy, even as he sought to master his own inner rage at his friend Billy's plight.

"Jason is right," Zordon intoned, an odd note of barely contained emotion in his voice. "Thanks to Billy's efforts to thwart Dialeteker, even as a prisoner and not knowing of our own charade, he has distracted him to buy enough time that your counterattack can now get underway with a high probability of success. If Billy had known the images of Earth's destruction being relayed by the faux Alpha were originating from here, he may not have been quite so convincing."

"But if we'd been able to contact him before he left Triforia to return to Aquitar, he would have known that the intergalactic message he had intercepted was false. He would never had detoured here to help. He would never have been captured!" Tommy retorted heatedly. "He believes everyone on Earth - us, his family, even you, Zordon - are destroyed, and that his sacrifice of Alpha was for nothing! Even when he was sent tumbling through space by King Mondo, at least Billy knew he wasn't alone. That we were here for him. But now, now....! Those feelings of isolation are far worse than any torture Dialeteker has done to him."

Jason lightly placed a restraining hand on his best friend's arm. He had never seen a Ranger vent such anger toward Zordon, but neither had he ever before heard such a lengthy tirade explode from Tommy. The last several days had taken a hard toll on all of them; first outwitting Dialeteker's attacks, then discovering that Billy was a prisoner in Dialeteker's orbiting fortress. Jason had no doubt that Tommy, from his own experiences, was deeply identifying with that sense of isolation that Billy must be undergoing.

Tommy took a deep breath, trying to match Jason's apparently unfazed demeanor. From the first moment Jason and he had met in that martial arts contest so long ago, and through all the adventures that they had undergone together, he had respected the facade of calm contemplation that Jason projected. Underneath, though, Tommy knew better than anyone else that Jason contained a volcano of emotion, a remarkable rage against injustice and against those who would use their abilities unfairly over those who had less, whatever the cause. Except for Jason's first sensei, Tommy had been the only other person ever really privy to just how much of that restrained inner emotional force Jason could tap to sustain his physical prowess. Tommy took it as a great compliment that Jason thought highly enough of his skills and own inner emotional controls to go all out in their matches; that he felt comfortable enough with Tommy's ability to match him move for move that Jason would unleash some of that force and express it through physical effort.

Jason's tendency to never lord that remarkable inner force as an advantage over anyone else was something that Tommy also tried to emulate. The one time Tommy had not controlled the emotional power within himself and had called upon it unfairly, he had embarrassed his newly discovered biological brother, David, and as a consequence, had nearly lost that brother forever. Now, Jason's simple touch on his arm was reminder enough for Tommy to strive to refocus his frustration and anger into a more effective channel; even as his heart was crying out, "But it's Billy!"

"Time is short," Zordon noted evenly, without responding to Tommy's rancor. "Dialeteker believes he is triumphant. However, he will soon learn that we fed him false images of Earth's destruction, and that his own troops are the ones being devastated. Your plan is a good one. Now is the time for the return strike, Zeo Ranger Five."

By addressing Tommy by his leader title, Zordon effectively reminded Tommy where his priorities needed to be directed. He nodded in response, his jaw clenched, and placed his helmet back on his head in preparation to rejoin his teammates who waited for him in the ZeoMegazord.

Tommy turned to Jason. "I realize that because you no longer carry the Power of the Gold Ranger, Jase, you're the only one of us that who can get into Dialeteker's fortress without tripping every alarm. No offense, man, but I still wish I was the one going in to get Billy!"

"I'll bring him back safely, Tommy." Jason held his right hand out in promise, and the two friends clasped hands to wrists.

"Watch out for yourself too, bro. Back to action!" Tommy snapped to ready position, elbows akimbo to the Power buckle, and disappeared in a red glittery glow.

Jason turned his attention back to the viewing screen, his arms folded back over his chest. Without even glancing in the robot's direction, he asked Alpha Five, the real Alpha Five, "Everything set?"

Alpha had been pacing and wringing his mechanical hands. These were strange behaviors for a fully functional automaton. However, over the past few years, Alpha had been picking up some strange subroutines from his association with young humans. "Ay-yi-yi, poor Billy. He thinks he has destroyed me. Everything is in place for teleportation, Jason, but please, please be careful!"

"Just time it right, Alpha, and I'll be in and out of there in no time!"

*****

Dialeteker gloated as the viewing screen showed his forces being victorious over Earth's defenses. He turned to sneer at Billy, who had managed to struggle up onto his hands and knees and crawl backwards a few paces away from the robed figure. Now Billy was slumped with his back up against a wall, using it as leverage to push himself slowly to his feet.

"And where do you think you're going, my smart little pet? Because you have imbibed of the Eternal Falls of Aquitar, you will now spend eternity as my official historian, recording the futility of resisting me. Your first, and last, assignment will be to describe how it feels to see evil completely overcome this universe!"

Now on his feet, back still against the wall, and trembling from the effort it had taken to raise his body to an upright position, Billy finally regained his breath. With his arms extended downward and his palms pressed against the wall to give him support, he lifted his head defiantly. "Your hypothesis will not be substantiated, Dialeteker. As long as there is one molecule ... one atom ... one iota ... left of any entity of Good in the universe, Evil will remain defeated."

"You little fool," thundered Dialeteker. "I had always been told you were the most intelligent of any of the Rangers, but, as usual, I see my informants were misinformed, not to mention stupid. Now, powerless Earthling, you will learn what it is like to be the last and only of your kind in the universe, without hope, without succor, totally, completely alone."

*****

"Except that he is not alone, and never has been," injected a calm voice from a nearby doorway. Billy looked toward the speaker, barely believing what he was seeing. There was Jason, his arms casually crossed, lounging against the door frame!

"What ... is ... this?" Dialeteker slowly exclaimed in a threatening manner, distinctly emphasizing each word.

"Here, Bill, catch." Jason straightened up and, like a hand-off in football, tossed a small black rectangular device about the size of a plastic charge card towards Billy.

"It's a present from Alpha, the real Alpha. That," Jason said as he waved a hand toward the floor where the bits of the faux Alpha lay scattered, "was an extremely clever replica. It was planted in the debris of what you thought was the destroyed Power Chamber." He then turned toward Dialeteker to distract him from Billy, who had caught the device and was now fumbling with it.

"Those images you see?" Jason pointed toward the view screen. "They're fake too, taken from a variety of old Earth movies and television shows. We've been sending them through transmitters in that fake Alpha's head. Your first wave of attackers never made it past the initial outer satellite defenses. Each additional wave has been picked off, one by one, by the Rangers."

"This can't be! This can't be!" Dialeteker screamed in anger and frustration.

"Actually, we used a variation of an old plan of Billy's that we found in the real Power Chamber computers," Jason smiled at Billy and moved to stand by his friend. Billy was rapidly pushing the tiny switches on the device which he had invented from what he had learned from the Aquitian Rangers.

Jason continued, "Those transmissions that you thought were coming from your drone forces were actually coming from the Rangers. Even now, the Rangers are still relaying false images of Earth's destruction to your view screen. The fake Alpha also transmitted to us the events going on in here. Deception and distraction were the keys to your defeat, Dialeteker."

"It worked for me," muttered Billy as he activated the generator. "I thought it was the real Alpha, with his basic programming scrambled from the blast that destroyed the Power Chamber." The golden glow of a force field sparkled as a huge semi-transparent sphere enclosed the two teenagers.

"You weren't part of the original diversion plan, Billy," Jason said reassuringly, "but your shenanigans here bought the Rangers extra time to counterstrike." Jason heard a beep from his wrist communicator. He turned to Dialeteker, who was frothing from his non-visible mouth in silent rage, the white bubbles cascading from his faceless cowl down the front of his robes.

"And speaking of time, it's time for us to leave, Dialeteker. The ZeoMegazord is on its way to destroy your orbiting base. Our little conversation here has distracted you yet again and allowed the Rangers time to penetrate your fortress' defenses."

"Time? Time! I will show you what time can do. I am going to kick you two somewhen that Zordon, for all his vaunted multi-transdimensional abilities, will never find you!" Dialeteker pointed the Staff of Kronos at the two former Rangers.

"Alpha, any time!" As Jason spoke into his wrist communicator, an intense beam of white light shot out from the Staff of Kronos, striking the spheric surface of the force field, causing first a tremendous vibration that knocked Jason and Billy into a heap in the center. The force field prevented the beam's energy from entering the sphere, but the beam refracted, causing the sphere to carom like a tennis ball hit in a small room. A blinding flash of light, and then . . . .

*****

Jason and Billy tumbled over and over in the sphere, like clothes in a dryer. Gradually slowing down, the sphere veered this way and that as it occasionally glanced off an unseen obstruction. It finally rolled to a stop, and the glow of the force field dissipated, leaving Jason and Billy in a darkness that was suddenly illuminated with a brief flash of lightning. Jason sat up and felt water dripping on his body. He tried his communicator, but there was no response.

"Billy! Billy, are you all right?"

Billy weakly managed to sit up, his hand on the back of his head. "My occipital region has been impacted once too often lately," he sighed.

They seemed to be situated in a forest, in a rainstorm. A crack of thunder sounded and more flashes of lightning revealed huge tree trunks. The rain strengthened and changed from droplets into a deluge.

"Where are we?" Jason wondered aloud as he stood up in the rain shower and reached a hand down to help up Billy.

Billy ignored Jason's hand as he scrambled his fingers around in the mud, feeling for the force field generator device that he had dropped. When he found it, Billy flipped several of its finger-tip switches and tried programming the instrument. He looked up at Jason with dismay, "It's not functional."

Jason tapped his wrist and sighed. "Neither is my communicator. Look, we have got to find some shelter and get out of this rain. From the lightning flashes, the forest looks a little bit more open that way."

It was all Billy could do to get to his feet. Jason put his arm around his friend for support and attempted some humor to cover his concern at how weak Billy seemed. "Come on, anyone who faced down a supposed conqueror of the universe can deal with a little water."

"I was losing, remember?" replied Billy as the two stumbled though the forest, tripping over roots and rocks. With no idea of the direction they were going, they kept moving just to stay warm.

The cold rain was drenching them. The past several days in Dialeteker's company had already taxed Billy's strength. He was exhausted to the point that, if Jason hadn't had his arm around his shoulders, he would not have been able to remain upright. He began to shiver and cough.

Jason could feel his friend's whole body shaking with a chill. "Please, please," he mentally pleaded to whomever he thought may be listening, "let the Power protect him."

They traveled up a small ridge until they reached the top. As they stood between the trees, a lightning flash revealed, not far below them, an open, recently reaped cultivated field. What appeared to be large haystacks were scattered around the area. Jason headed for the nearest one, helping Billy to climb over a low rail fence. The haystack was more than twice Jason's height, four times as wide, and had a large square tarp covering it. Jason lifted a corner of the tarp. At about waist height he dug out a small cave within the hay like substance. He practically stuffed Billy feet first into the opening, dug a little bit more, and climbed in to lie next to his friend.

Billy curled into a fetal position with his back to Jason. He fell asleep almost instantly, but not before he mumbled, "Thanks, Jase, for coming after me."

"Anytime," Jason replied. He snuggled down into the stalks, hoping that the heat of their bodies would counteract the wetness of their clothes. Jason's bare arms were cold. Billy's light grey turtleneck hung in tatters, shredded during his abortive attempt to blow up Dialeteker.

Jason lay on his stomach, his chin on his folded arms, listening to Billy's labored breathing. Staring out of the opening in the hay towards the darkness punctuated by lightning, he wondered where or when on Earth, if this was Earth, they were. He tried the communicator again, with no luck. Eventually, the incessant beat of the rain on the tarp lulled him to sleep.

*****

Voices roused him, but before Jason could respond, he felt someone grab his arms and pull him out of the hay cave. He tumbled out head downward into sunlight, instinctively tucking his arms around his chest, rolling over in a tight forward somersault and easily back to an upright standing position, only to find the tines of a pitchfork pointed at his chest. He took a few steps backwards until he felt the stalks of the haystack pressing into his back. Slowly, he raised his hands.

Three men stood before him. The one aiming the pitchfork at him appeared to be the youngest, not much older than Jason, but taller and somewhat lanky. The other two were shorter, stockier and much older. All of them had rather ruddy complexions, as if they spent most of their time outdoors. They wore conical, straw-braided hats on their heads and were dressed in loose fitting clothing consisting of long jackets and wide trousers, in dark earth colors with a rosy tinge. The stockiest and oldest looking man stepped forward and demanded something in a harsh singsong language, but Jason had no idea what he was saying. Even after the experiences of his year at the peace conference, the language sounded like no language other he had ever heard.

"I'm sorry, sir," Jason responded formally, "I do not understand. I mean no harm," he added, hoping his tone indicated what his words could not make clear. He kept his arms raised.

Through very dark eyes, though not as dark as the luminous dark brown of Jason's own eyes, the older stocky man studied Jason, obviously assessing him. The lanky one made as if to stab the pitchfork at Jason. Jason kept his arms up, but mentally prepared to grab the farm tool if necessary. He really did not want to get off on the wrong foot with them. After all, he was the one trespassing, even if inadvertently. The stocky man addressed the lanky one very sharply, as if telling him to lay off punching holes in the stranger.

Meanwhile, the third man was dragging Billy out of the hay cave. Billy collapsed like an accordion into a seated position on the ground. His forehead was bowed down on his arms, which were folded over his drawn-up knees. Very, very slowly, with his left arm still held up high in the air, Jason leaned over to the side and shook Billy's shoulder, trying to rouse him.

Billy raised his head up from his forearms, small twigs entwined in his mussed dark blond hair, his light green eyes blinking like a koala bear's in the sunlight, and tried to focus. He looked up towards Jason and rasped, "I suppose it is too much to hope, that this is a dream?"

Before Jason could reply, a fit of coughing overtook Billy. Jason dropped to his knees beside his friend as Billy started to gag. Jason slowly stood up again, lifting Billy to a slightly angled upright position, thumping him not so gently on his back, hoping to help him clear his lungs.

"Billy," Jason entreated, "talk to me. Can you breathe?"

The coughing subsided, but Billy went limp in Jason's arms. The only reassurance Jason had that Billy was still alive was the feel of his friend's heart pumping wildly against his supporting arm. He looked toward the three men, who had been talking amongst themselves, the youngest one in strident tones, during Billy's convulsions.

The oldest stocky fellow nodded his head in the direction of the far end of the field. Jason easily lifted Billy's slight figure, cradling him with both arms, Billy's head nestling against his shoulder, and started in that direction. The men followed, the lanky one never lowering his pitchfork.

On the other side of another rail fence, a lane led to a low log house, where smoke rose from a stone chimney. Behind the house were scattered several small out-lying buildings. About twenty yards away stood another large wood-planked, unpainted structure that looked like a barn. The oldest man took the lead, calling ahead as they neared the house. Two women came out, one tall and slim and about the same age as the older men, and a girl who appeared to be a little younger than Jason. They were both dressed in long skirts under jackets similar in design to what the men wore. Their clothes were in varying shades of light to dark rose. Multi-hued rose bandannas were wrapped around their heads, completely covering their hair. The older one stopped to dry her hands on her clean pink apron. The younger one ran right up to Jason. Gently, she lifted Billy's limp head with her hands, then looked at Jason and apparently asked a question.

"I'm sorry," Jason replied. "I don't understand your language. But my friend is very ill. Can you help him?" If not his words, than the meaning of the request seemed to be understood, as she nodded.

The girl led Jason into the log house. It had only one room, sparsely furnished with wooden benches, a long rough hewn wood table, and several cots, all centered around a hearth at one end of the room. To one side of the hearth was a wide wooden shelf stacked with various cooking utensils. Next to the shelf was a waist-high wooden counter with a sink and hand pump. Liquids bubbled in both a large clay pot and a smaller one that hung from tripods positioned over a low fire.

Jason placed Billy on the cot nearest the hearth. The girl indicated to Jason that he should sit on a bench by the table. Then she and the woman began to efficiently strip Billy's still damp clothes off him. From the tone of their voices, Jason thought they were marveling at the construction of the clothes, perhaps the zipper on his jeans and the rubber soles of his badly tattered sneakers.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're unconscious, Billy," Jason smiled to himself, suspecting his friend would be highly embarrassed by these very personal ministrations.

The nurses bundled Billy in blankets, lifted his head, rousing him toward semi-consciousness, and tried to get him to wake up enough to drink a little from a mug of whatever was boiling in the small pot. The older woman offered a mug of the same drink to Jason, who sipped appreciatively. It had a sweetly bitter taste that Jason did not recognize, but at least it was hot. She also served him a big bowl of warm broth from the larger pot, and a hunk of fresh bread. As he gratefully ate, he noted that the bowl and spoon provided were hand-carved of wood.

The women were finally successful in getting some of the hot beverage down Billy's throat before he fell back asleep. As they conferred so earnestly over their patient, Jason relaxed his guard a little, feeling that Billy was in the hands of someone who cared.

The older man walked in and stood at the opposite side of the table from Jason, waiting until Jason looked up at him. He jerked his head towards the door. Jason took that as a directive to follow him, and nodded his assent. He stood up and walked over to stand by Billy's cot.

Some color had already returned to Billy's features. His right arm lay outside the covers. Jason tapped his still unresponsive communicator, unstrapped it and placed it on his sleeping friend's wrist. He stepped back, turned toward the women and bowed formally, then followed the man out the door. They traipsed to a nearby field covered with unharvested stalks.

The lanky one was not present. The oldest man handed Jason a scythe and demonstrated the correct procedure to swing it. They formed a line facing the crop, moving forward without speaking. Jason soon got a sense of the rhythm of the scythe, and even began to enjoy just being in the moment, his arms moving back and forth, focusing on a pattern that allowed him to cut the most stalks with the least amount of effort. The continuous physical activity rapidly dried his clothes, warmed his muscles, and almost allowed his mind to cease its restless pondering of the questions, "Where are we? Or is it when?"

The day was cool, and it was early morning when they started on the field. Taking only occasional short breaks, with sips from leather canteens that the men carried and shared with Jason, they worked steadily. The men made no attempt to talk with Jason, though the younger one took a few minutes to weave him a straw hat. About noontime, the young girl walked out with a straw woven basket over her arm that was filled with small fresh baked loaves of bread, round chunks of cheese, and several more canteens of water. It was while they sat under in the shade of a haystack and Jason ate, that he finally realized something that had been unconsciously registering with him for some time. The shadows were fuzzy, like there were two sets of the same shadow, slightly offset.

He stuck his hand out, studying its shadowed outlines on the ground, then looked up towards the sun, or rather the suns, which were not quite overhead. There were two of them -- both together a little brighter than the sun he was used to. From his quick glance it was apparent that two similar sized discs formed a not quite touching brilliant yellow figure eight in the sky.

"We're obviously not in Kansas, or Angel Grove, any more," Jason muttered to himself. The girl, who had been serving the men, glanced toward him as he spoke, with a questioning look on her face.

Hoping his tone conveyed his meaning, Jason asked very slowly, "How is my friend?"

She smiled, put her two hands palms together and fingers upright, placed them on her cheek and bent her head slightly, to indicate a position of sleep.

Jason smiled back. "Thank you," he said.

The afternoon followed the pattern of the morning as they scythed across the field. Finally, as the suns were lowering in the direction Jason christened "west" in his mind, the other men indicated it was time to quit and they started back towards the log house. Jason checked out the setting suns, and discovered that the two large yellow solar disks were also accompanied by a third, much smaller red disk trailing behind them in the western sky.

*****

>To his delight, when Jason walked through the doorway, he saw that Billy was awake and sitting up cross-legged on the cot, a sand-colored blanket draped around his shoulders. He was fiddling with the generator device and looked up with a smile of relief at the sight of Jason. "Hi, farm boy," Billy greeted him in a raspy voice.

Jason took off the straw hat, pulled up a bench and sat down next to the cot. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"It is amazing the improvement in one's disposition when one's lungs are functioning," Billy replied.

"Not to mention getting oxygen to the brain, especially one that uses as much as yours does." Jason paused, "That's the good news."

"And the bad?" Billy prodded for information.

"We're not on Earth, not unless the sun has acquired a partner," Jason responded.

Billy's features took on an expression of focused interest. "Intriguing. A double yellow binary?"

"So far as I could tell, with an additional small red companion, which appears gravitationally connected, not just in line of sight."

"Jase, you did listen in astronomy class occasionally!" Billy said in a pleased and surprised tone.

"Comes from hanging out with you," Jason took Billy's bantering as a good sign that his friend was recovering from the traumas of the last few days.

"Well, more bad news is that I still can't get the force field generator to regenerate its power source," Billy sighed regretfully, appearing not to realize his little pun. "But here, see what you think of my improvement to your communicator."

"You raised Zordon?" Jason asked, incredulously hopeful.

"Not by a long shot. That's why I was hoping for additional power from the force field generator. But I adjusted the translator link to telepathically match your specific brain waves. See if this helps you understand our new friends."

Jason strapped on the communicator. To his astonishment, he could understand a sense of what the two women were talking about as they worked on supper. The meaning of about every fifth word echoed clearly in his head.

"The food is almost ready, and we apparently appear pretty comical to them," Jason observed.

"I'm not surprised," replied Billy. "I've been eavesdropping on comments about my strange appearance for most of the afternoon. Here, lend me your earring."

Jason detached the earring from his left ear and watched as Billy used the catch pin to do some fine-tuning to the communicator on Jason's wrist. He handed the earring back to Jason.

"The translator should become ever more efficient as it evolves and continues to absorb the vocabulary and syntax of their language. With practice, you should be speaking it fluently within days."

"Billy, you are amazing," Jason said admiringly. Looking down at his wrist, he did not notice a certain expression of wistfulness cross Billy's features.

"Yeah, I've been told that before."

Hearing the sadness in Billy's tone, Jason looked up sharply. "Is there anything you can't do?" he asked, meaning to be encouraging.

"Click my heels together three times, find a quick route home, and go to the outhouse by myself." Billy responded with his typical low-key humor. "Could you assist me?"

As Jason helped his friend to stand, Jason noticed that Billy was back in his grey jeans and wore a pair of ankle-high leather boots that must belong to one of the farmers. He was also wearing one of the farmers' jackets, this one a warm rose streaked with gray. It reminded Jason vaguely of the jackets that were part of a gi, but its length it was several inches longer, reaching almost to the knees. It had several pockets, including ones on both upper arms of the wide sleeves. The jacket had no buttons or button holes, but wrapped across the chest. Around Billy's waist was tied a long braided belt of thin leather strips.

The girl looked over at them as Billy stood up, and giggled shyly. Billy blushed. "Thank you, Meglara," Billy said slowly, in their language. "My friend will help me this time."

"You seem to being doing okay without a translator," Jason noted. He was tempted, but decided to say nothing about the magnetic attraction Billy had on young women, especially intelligent ones. Jason had long wondered why Billy always seemed so oblivious to that effect.

"Well, we only have the one communicator, and since through your long term usage it's already more closely attuned to your encephalographic patterns, it is logical for you to continue to have the use of it. Also, there is a strong analytical pattern to this language that I believe will make it fairly simple to learn. It seems to be structured in a very formalized manner. I suspect that indicates that this culture is based on a... Oh, wow!" Billy's tone changed instantly from lecturing professor mode to stunned observer of nature's beauty.

They had walked out the door, Jason's left arm supporting Billy. Both stopped, breathless, in the evening chill. The suns had set. The sky was not yet completely dark, yet Jason had never seen so many stars twinkling on the celestial dome, and apparently neither had Billy.

"What do you make of it?" Jason asked.

Billy looked upward for a long moment before responding.

"I think it's likely that we are on a planet whose parent stars are members of a globular cluster. I've never seen anything like this from Earth, Aquitar, Edenoi, or even Phaedos or Triforia. I'm just hoping we're in the Milky Way Galaxy, or at least some alternate dimension of it."

"It's beautiful," Jason said.

"But nature calls," Billy sighed.

*****

To give Billy a chance to rest, they paused on the way back for another moment's observation. Even more stars crowded into the darkening sky. Billy's steps were slow and labored, but he was determined to walk by himself, using a hand on Jason's shoulder as his only support. The starlight was bright enough for Jason to see Billy's features clearly.

"It is possible that a moon or moons have not risen yet," Billy contemplated. "But I think I will be surprised if there are any, considering the variable gravitational forces that three suns must exert on this world."

As he stared at the sky, his green eyes went slightly out of focus, as if he was looking at something much, much farther away than the furthest star in the cluster.

"You can see the stars okay, then?" asked Jason. He had been meaning to ask about Billy's eyesight, for even if his friend had on long-wear contacts, at some point he would want to take them out.

"What? Oh, that's no longer a problem," Billy turned to Jason with a slight smile. "A side benefit from my de-aging sequence treatments on Aquitar. My eyesight no longer requires mechanical modifications to correct it. It's now twenty-twenty."

He sighed, "But I sure could use a swig of that pure Aquitian water."

"Are you really immortal too, then, from drinking their water?" Jason inquired.

"Where on Earth, or any other planet for that matter, did you pick up on that old myth?" Billy stared at him with an extremely puzzled expression.

"The Eternal Falls -- I thought that was why the Aquitian Rangers led such extremely long lives. Kat said something to me once that they had not changed at all from when the Rangers were reversed in age, and," Jason hesitated, "I overheard what Dialeteker said."

"The Aquitians live long lives because it is part of the nature of their species to do so, at least relative to human life spans. Cestro and I have talked about doing some comparative studies, especially in regard to a project Lord Trey is interested in, but I just haven't had the time to do more than gather some basic micro-nucleonic data, mainly on myself," Billy responded.

"And as for Dialeteker, he seemed to have a penchant for buying into misinformation," Billy added, with a touch of humor in his tone, then more seriously, "I just hope the others were successful."

"They were, I'm sure," Jason stated firmly, trying to sound as reassuring as he could. "They'll be coming after us soon. There is probably a ton of clean-up for them to do after defeating Dialeteker. Our new friends seem kind, and I'm hopeful that I'm earning our room and board by working in the field. We will just do the same thing as if we were lost in the woods at home: Stay put, try to keep signaling, and wait for help." He did not say anything about the fears in his heart - that Dialeteker had sent them to some dimension where Zordon and the others would not be able to find them; or that Billy was too weak to go anywhere. And where would they go on this world with triple suns, anyway?

*****

When they entered the house, dinner was ready on the table. The two men came in from tending whatever animals were housed in the barn and sat down on a bench on one side of the table. Billy and Jason were seated on the other side. The women sat at the ends and jumped up frequently to get one thing or another. Once, Jason got up to help Meglara carry something. This action on his part she apparently found to be so incongruous that she giggled. The older man looked at her, and shook his head disapprovingly, but obviously somewhat fondly as well. Jason sensed that the man was Meglara's father, and learned that his name was Medgwin when the older woman addressed him as such. Jason kept trying to pick up on names and phrases as they rang telepathically in his mind.

Billy and he said nothing during the meal except for an occasional "thank you" when served something. The food was simple, hot and delicious. Afterwards, Jason helped Billy back to his cot.

Billy murmured to Jason, "Well, it's nice to have at least one theory of mine confirmed. If you know no other phrase in a foreign language, it is always wise to know the words, 'Thank you'." He was asleep almost as soon as Jason had pulled the covers over him.

Jason stood by the cot for a moment, contemplating how remarkable his friend was, and not just for his intelligence, "How many times, Billy, have your humorous observations, intentional or not, gotten me over a rough spot, even before we were ever Rangers. If we stick together, we are bound to find our way home."

Meglara placed a straw pallet on the floor next to Billy's cot, and covered it with some blankets. She indicated to Jason that he was to bed down there.

Jason used hand movements to offer to help clean up after dinner. The older woman, Mugdower, shook her head, and waved him off. He sat on a bench for a while, legs stretched out in front, back supported against the edge of the table, and arms folded, watching the women bustle around, as he listened to the men talk quietly between themselves about the damage to the crop from the storm. At one point Jason smiled when he realized that they were discussing how the hard working stranger was a big asset with the harvest, and didn't spend a lot of time in useless talk.

How he wished his old friends could hear that comment! He remembered that on more than one occasion, while sitting around in the Juice Bar, non-stop Kim and verbally acrobatic Zack would look over to the quieter side of the table where Jason and Billy sat, and chide the two for not joining in the conversation. Trini, in the middle as usual, would diplomatically chime in, "But it's so much fun to listen to you two."

Once Trini had told Jason how odd it was that they considered Billy the "quiet" one.

"You say much less than he does," Trini had commented, with that warm sweet smile of hers. "Though when you do open up, it's always worthwhile to hear."

"Where are you guys now?" Jason wondered to himself. "Still in Geneva and Florida, or perhaps helping the others search for us?"

He brought his attention back to the current conversation around him, which included comments that made Jason realize that apparently the lad so handy with the pitchfork was a worthless argumentative relative the farmers had been unwillingly stuck with, and they were glad that he had left, who knew where and who cared.

After awhile, Jason lay down on the pallet. Billy's soft steady breathing was a soothing lullaby in Jason's ears as he fell asleep.

*****

tbc