Jack Carlsen was born in 1921 in Toronto, the son of a physics tutor. Falling in love at an early age with the American story magazines, he set his sights on improving the world’s lot through the only means he knew how – by devising new means of propulsion. On the strength of his father’s tutelage and word, he was set for greatness and university beckoned – and then the war broke out, and Jack announced his intention to butt right on in. His loving parents arranged matters, swiftly, for Jack to move to New York City – where, they hoped, the lack of military activity would help him think twice.

Jack did no such thing. Taking employment at a local car manufacturer, he scrimped and saved and occasionally stole away parts, working on his designs in secret – occasionally sneaking into the plant at night to make use of its facilities.

And soon his design was complete. All was not, however, well. In the course of his activities, he’d stumbled across a couple of other shop-floor shoplifters, but they probably knew about him. So turning them in in straightforward fashion wasn’t possible…

Doing his best to cover his tracks, the young rocketman took to the skies. Soon enough, he was effectively initiated into a remarkable club…

Darren is a young lad of 20, bumbling through college (where he’s studying virtually every Romance Language he can fit a course on into his timetable) and supporting himself by his two key interests; theatre and art photography. He’s made a number of friends, and a reputation for throwing himself head-first into hopeless romantic entanglements, somehow emerging unscathed with a cheery grin. His martial arts prowess, formidable though it is, is purely a consequence of his fascination with motion, particularly dramatic movements.

Little does he know what different theatres of movement will soon be open to him…