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The
World's
Greatest Superheroes.....
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JLA
#40-
July, Year 5
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by Curt
Fernlund |
EARTH
2:
Gotham...
“C’mon, son! Hurry your ass!”
Johnny Gardner slowed to a stop, watching as his friends ran all the
harder, outdistancing him with ease. His chest heaved as he
sucked in oxygen, his lungs burning as each breath brought a fit of
pain that threatened to drop him to the ground in a heap. As
he gasped for breath he dug deeply into the pocket of his faded, baggy
Levi’s finally finding his inhaler amidst the mess of keys,
matches, coins and pocket laser that he always kept on hand.
Still heaving and gasping, almost doubling over in agony at the growing
pain of constriction in his chest, Johnny put the tube of the inhaler
between his lips and hit the plunger, gasping now for life saving,
delicious relief.
He hated being weak and sickly. Johnny hated with a passion
the asthma that always kept him on the sidelines, making him the last
one picked for sports (except for fat Frank Dildine) and last in line
for a movie, or carnival ride or a simple date. He was as
good as anyone at basketball and soccer – hell, better than
most – but he just did not have the staying power, and
everyone treated him different because of it. Everyone
thought he was fragile as glass because he just could not breathe half
the time, which kept him out of shape and skinny as a stick.
And worse, a lot of the other kids in their ignorance thought that
whatever he had was contagious. Especially the girls; no one
wanted to be seen on a date with a skinny kid that might pass out from
the slightest exertion.
So he watched, sucking on the inhaler that was his lifeline to the real
world as his friends charged up the hill on Bower Street, last and late
again. Just a couple more blocks and he would have been fine
and at their sides and watching the big super battle they had seen on
TV. So damn close…
They had seen the Special News Report on WGBC
while he and Billy and Tom had been playing Pokemon: the Card Game.
It had sucked, the timing. His Charizard
was about to lay the major kick-ass on Tom’s last card: Squirtle.
No contest. Then Billy had turned up the TV and they saw that
the Green Lantern was battling the Sports Master and Tigress in
Marshall Park just a few blocks away and up the hill from
Billy’s house. Fuckin’ Tom had snatched
his card and jacket and slammed through the front door, yelling for
everyone to follow.
Thing was, Johnny had wanted to see the fight too. On the
television it looked like the Sports Master and Tigress were giving GL
a hard time. He just hated to lose the card game.
He hated to lose period. His mom said it was because he was
sickly. He tried harder than other kids did, but Johnny knew
there was more to it than that. He would try harder, true,
but not because he was a Feeb. He just liked to win.
But as always the damn asthma slowed him to a crawl. He kept
sucking on the inhaler as he trudged up Bower, wiping sweat from his
dark greasy bangs despite the chill in the autumn air. In the
distance he could hear the sounds of the battle and the occasional
green flash of light illuminating the crest of the hill. He
was sure that Billy and Tom were right there already, pushing up at the
Police Lines and cheering on the Lantern to stop the two members of the
CSA…
… The Injustice Society…
Johnny stopped at the top of Bower, rubbing sweat from his face, wiping
his hands on his jeans. He was weak and shaking on his jelly
legs and still breathing hard, but his pulse was racing with excitement
rather than sickness and lack of oxygen. What he saw - it was
incredible.
The Green Lantern floated over the canopy of trees that marked the
little patch of woods that ringed the park, a haze of green about him
and shining off of the trees that were blazing in the Fall reds and
gold and yellow. His hand was crackling with verdant energy;
a beam shooting out into the image of a huge baseball bat, swinging and
knocking away at little black blobs that arched away with each impact
to explode in a dazzling display of light high in the sky.
Looking closer he could see the Sports Master zipping through the
trees, riding a flying surfboard and wearing a wetsuit, what appeared
to be a volleyball net unfurling in his wake.
He saw Billy and Tom cheering on the Emerald Avenger, along with a
crowd of dozens barely held back and in check at the Police Line
cordoned at the park’s edge. There were dozens of
cops dressed in their blues and grays, arms locked and jack boots
planted against the crush of the growing and excited crowd.
Johnny Gardner hurried forward, giving the inhaler a final plunge
before slipping it back into his cluttered pocket, elbowing his way
none too gently through the mob.
“What’s happening?” Johnny asked with a
croaking voice, stepping up beside his friends right behind the
police. One of the cops glanced back with a nasty look at the
extra surge in the crowd.
“GL’s kickin’ ass, son!” Billy
said, glancing briefly over his shoulder before turning back to the
battle scene, his smile wide and eyes gleaming with
excitement. Johnny looked to Tom for his input and saw his
friend looking on with a hint of worry wrinkling his brows and the
corners of his lips.
“You okay, man?” Tom asked.
Billy forced a smile and nodded. Tom appeared almost sorry
for leaving him behind before shrugging and turning his attention back
to the fight. “What’s
happening?” Johnny asked again.
“Sports Master and Tigress just robbed
Silver’s. Took a set of platinum golf clubs and a
diamond ball that was signed by Tiger hisself! GL showed up,
Johnny on the spot to squash the Dynamite Duo.”
Billy’s voice was shrill and quick; he was so caught up in
the moment. And no wonder, as even as Johnny looked back he
saw Green Lantern’s shield flare as a burst of fire erupted
about him. Tigress had lobbed an incendiary
grenade. No problem. Everyone knew that nothing
could hurt GL, except for wood.
There was a sudden hush from the crowd as the police held the line,
forcing the rubber-neckers back as Green Lantern’s shield
cracked and shattered. Then murmurs and whispers that grew in
volume to screams as his form caught fire and started to sway, then
fall. It was strange, Johnny thought. All the HERO
mags and Sites said that GL was weak against wood. Fire was
nothing to him.
Still, Green Lantern plummeted to Earth like a comet, his body ablaze
and trailing fire and smoke in his wake. Johnny and the rest
of the crowd stared in horror stepping back in shock as their hero hit
the ground with a loud, solid thump. He did not move as the
fire blazed, flames crackling and dancing over his smoldering,
blackened body. He did not attempt to rise as Sports Master
gathered up his wife… sister… whatever and the
pair sped off into the gathering dusk.
Laughing.
They were laughing as they escaped.
Johnny Gardner stared after the pair in horror, and rage. He
watched as GL seemed to simply burn away, his body disfiguring into
something that did not even look human, dissolving almost as he and the
crowd watched in dumb struck awe.
“Jesus…”
The police were moving forward at last. Johnny heard sirens
dwindling, following the two members of the injustice Society no doubt,
hopefully. Others were approaching the still and smoldering
form of their champion, barely a charred lump now. The crowd
was pressing forward too, and Johnny could feel the rage and tension
building around him.
He was feeling it himself; anger, despair, helplessness. If
only there was some way to help. Something that he could do.
He wanted to get back at the Injustice Society. He wanted to
stop the bastards that had killed Gotham’s greatest hero (the
Batman aside). He wanted revenge –
He was gasping for breath and groping for his inhaler from the sudden
surge of excitement and adrenaline when he saw the flare and streak of
pale green. It arched up and above the tree line, circling
there for a moment before sparkling and shooting down towards the
crowd. Oddly, no one else seemed to notice, the crowd was so
intent on getting closer to the scene of the crime and moving past his
gasping body. Johnny was trying to stagger from the flow,
looking for Billy and Tom when something bounced off of his forehead
with a hard crack. He winced, blinking, wondering what had
hit him and looking about as the crowd moved away, leaving him alone on
the sidelines. There was confusion ahead, the people staring
at what remained of the Gotham Guardian, ignoring the skinny, sickly
kid in the background. And the ring…
Johnny saw the trinket, the pulsing wash of green at his feet and he
stared, sucking frantically on his inhaler. It was a ring:
the Green Lantern’s ring. Had to be.
Johnny pulled the inhaler away, still gasping for breath but intent and
curious as he squatted down, a tentative finger flicking at the lost
bauble. Green flame flared, roaring into his face and
enveloping his body. Startled and afraid (he had just seen
his hero die by fire) Johnny fell back onto his ass, trying to
crab-walk away. He did not feel the burn yet, and knew that
his panic would kick in another asthma attack. He had to get
away and get help while he could.
JONATHAN
GARDNER…
Johnny yelped scrambling swiftly to his feet and stumbling back, ready
to bolt. He stared at the ring, watching, as it seemed to
turn of its own volition until the tiny carved lantern on the
‘stone’ was facing him, almost staring at him it
seemed…
I
AM THE HEART OF DARKNESS. DON ME AND ULTIMATE POWER SHALL BE
YOURS.
Johnny Gardner looked around, hoping that he was hallucinating at
worst. It happened when the asthma got too bad, that he would
start seeing and hearing weird things. But no one was
watching, or even looking his way. Billy and Tom were lost in
the crowd jostling up by the tree line. Johnny licked his
lips, looking back to the ring once again. It was pulsing as
though alive. A heart beating, and he quickly realized in
rhythm with his own.
He bent low to pick up the ring…
J'onn J'onzz
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Black Lightning
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Hawkman
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Fire
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"Ad
Infinatum"
Part One
An
EARTH
2 Event
EARTH
1:
The Watchtower…
There was a cold and eerie silence that seemed to echo through the
Medical Bay. Beatriz De Costa had always hated the sterile
smell of the hospitals she had been in over the course of her
relatively short life; whether with her tenure as a government spy with
the Espiaos
Nacionales in Brazil, or
later with the Global Guardians,
or even now with the Justice League’s latest
incarnation. Hospitals made her nervous and always meant bad
news in her experience. The smell and sterile cleanliness
coupled with the almost always chilly air made her shiver, and not from
the cold. Worst of all they made her think of Tora.
Now was no different. Despite the fact that she felt welcome
and safe here in the JLA Medical Bay, there was still an edginess about
her, a nervousness that would not leave and made her skin tingle as she
paced. The waiting was murder, and she could see that it was
taking its toll on the Black Lightning as well, though he was hiding it
better.
Jefferson Pierce sat in one of the chairs at the edge of the Infirmary,
his notes spread out on the low, white table before him, his laptop
glowing softly. He was trying to focus on his own problems
while trying to seem concerned over the League’s at the same
time. He was almost pulling off the façade,
looking up occasionally to watch the Martian at his work or to flash
her a tight if not reassuring smile. Black Lightning did not
truly want to be there – in the JLA that is. He had
his own agenda, namely bringing down the reemerging threat of The 100,
or The
1000, whatever they were
calling themselves these days. They, and many once defunct
gangs like the Royal Flush Gang
and Intergang
had recently popped up all along the Eastern Seaboard and stretching
back past the Mississippi she had heard. The 100 had targeted
Metropolis, more specifically Suicide Slum and the other less
prestigious neighborhoods not usually frequented by Superman, but
defended by the likes of the Guardian, Steel and Lightning.
Jefferson Pierce was a teacher now in the Slum, and Black Lightning had
dedicated his fight against the 100.
He had teamed up with, and actually joined the League at the bequest
(almost begging) of the Martian Manhunter when their paths all crossed
recently. He had been reluctant as always, feeling that he
could work better by himself and not hampered by the League’s
rules and spotlight, but promises were made, and J’onn
J’onzz swore to help him against The 100 if he would help
them in return. As always however, the rollercoaster ride
that life in the JLA generally was took an unexpected turn and threw
them all for a loop.
Along with Hawkman, Black Lightning and Beatriz had journeyed to Belle Reeves
to confront a pair of villains that they had defeated who were linked
to the 100. Before that happened though, and in the midst of
the Meta Prison, the world tilted as it often did and thrust the League
into some new Mega adventure. Hawkman had seemingly gone
insane within the prison, raging and threatening and battling Captain
Atom with a ferocity that Beatriz had not seen since the days of her
childhood in the slums of Rio. People there would kill for a
bit of change or a crust of stale bread. A cigarette for
God’s sake, without remorse or mercy, it was just the way
life was, and still is. She had seen that same look, the
merciless, uncaring gleam in the Hawkman’s eyes as he had
attacked Captain Atom with a relish. In the end, it had been
half tenacity and dedication on the Captain’s part, coupled
with a whole lot of dumb luck that had allowed the Hawk to be taken
down, and then out of Belle Reeves.
They all had J’onn J’onzz to thank for the timely
prison break. He had teleported them all back to the
Watchtower after fighting his own way back to coherence.
Whatever had come over Hawkman had assaulted him as well even out in
space at 22,300 miles and within the walls and shields of the
satellite. Beatriz did not even want to consider the force
powerful enough to take down not only the Hawkman, but the Martian
Manhunter as well.
And there were others too. Hundreds of thousands of cases
around the world had been reported ranging in severity from simple
dizziness to all out collapse and coma. And the plague, or
whatever it was, was not targeted only at the normals. Heroes
too, and apparently some villains had been stricken, and many of those
in the Justice Society. J’onn had learned from
Mister Terrific that the older generation seemed hit the hardest, the
likes of the Flash, Sentinel, Wildcat and others had passed out, simply
collapsing. All had recovered more or less, but too all had a
strange feeling of amnesia, like a huge chunk of memory had been ripped
away from their very being, though of course none of them could
remember what. Of them all, Hawkman seemed the worst for
wear, his entire persona losing every shred of decency short of some
twisted idea of honor in battle. It was weird.
And confusing apparently Beatriz noted as she looked again to the
hunched shoulders and backside of the Martian Manhunter. He
had barely recovered himself from the onslaught, whatever it was
hitting him on a psychic level that had not affected most.
Upon their return to the Watchtower J’onn had described the
sensation like a million souls crying out at once, overwhelming his
mind and literally shutting him off for a time while his Martian mind
recuperated and dealt with the assault to his psyche. He
explained as well while they relayed the unconscious Hawkman to the
Infirmary that he had received calls from Doctor Fate and Black Canary
describing similar effects on a mystical level. Beatriz was
confused and out of her League so to speak, and though she and Black
Lightning had seen some amazing adventures over the years in their
respective careers, she could see that Jefferson was as lost and
floundering as she. He dealt with it the best way he knew
how; by thinking. Beatriz however was more prone to action
first, and as Fire had the power usually to back up with equal
reaction. Now however she paced, watching as the Martian
Manhunter probed into Hawkman’s mind.
J’onn was far from top shape however. She could see
the haunted look in his eyes, even overshadowed as they always
were. His skin seemed pale and his body still slightly
elongated from the initial shock that had shut him down for a time to
heal. He needed rest, but was determined to struggle on
regardless, which was why he was the leader and mainstay of the Justice
League. There were none to compare.
Luckily however, he had help. Not long after the trio had
returned from Belle Reeves, old members started to phone in.
Doctor Fate had come along with Mister Terrific, the latter feeling
that he could better utilize the JLA computer network hands on rather
than via relay. Fate, or rather one of the men that wore the
helmet prior had been a brief member of the League when it was just the
Justice League, before International. Still, Hector Hall was
no less dedicated and offered his mystical experience, slight as it
was. Not to mention that it was his father laid out before
him on the operating table.
“Nothing.”
Beatriz De Costa jumped, her heart skipping a beat and a tiny yelp of
surprise escaping her green tinted lips to hear the cold, hollow voice
of her friend. She looked to the table and saw that
J’onn had seemingly sagged, actually leaning with his palms
on the table’s edge as he drew deep breaths, trying to regain
his composure and strength. Beside him, Doctor Fate took a
tentative step backwards, lowering his arms to disappear beneath the
folds of his golden cloak as the spark and sparkle of whatever magicks
that he was employing faded away back into the ether. He
nodded in agreement.
“I agree,” Fate said with almost the same
hollowness of the Martian’s voice, though Beatriz noted just
a bit more strength, if not youthful enthusiasm. Fate had
been through his own levels of torment over the years starting from
birth as the son of two of the most famous warriors of World War
Two. As the heir of Hawkman and Hawkwoman he was obliged to
become a hero, and did so with a short stint as the Silver Scarab in
the tragic team of JSA juniors called Infinity
Inc.
It was there that he had met Fury, fallen in love and eventually
married Lyta Trevor. Hector had then disappeared for a time
to fill the role of some bizarre other dimensional character called the
Sandman, not even knowing that his wife was pregnant. Oddly,
coincidentally Lyta’s son Daniel disappeared as well not so
long after birth. Then through some convoluted adventures
Hector returned and assumed the role of Doctor Fate. How he
remained sane throughout was beyond Fire, but she had to respect the
man, if not the hero for holding it all together, if not putting up a
good front.
“It’s as though a piece of his very being has been
removed, almost surgically I might say. My…
Hawkman’s past is varied and convoluted to say the
least. The compounding of reincarnation upon reincarnation
over the centuries has left his mind a raging storm of turmoil that
only his own inner strength has held in check. I fear that a
great proportion of that strength was taken with whatever memories were
lost.” Fate glanced at the Martian who barely
nodded in agreement.
“Rather than seeking out what was missing I instead chose to
view what remained. I am generally loath to pry into the
minds and memories of anyone, more so fellows and friends, but these
are once again dire times. Anything that can strike down so
many on a global scale deserves measures beyond the norm. I
have never delved too deeply into the mind of Carter Hall and for good
reason.
“As you mentioned, his memories are vast and jumbled, a
mixture of those rising to recreate the man currently reincarnated
since the days of Khufu and beyond I believe. Add to that mix
the confusion of his link to Thanagar and his memories become in one
sense a morass and in another a maelstrom. It was as though
wading through a swamp abuzz with ghastly swarms of insects and
monstrous creature just below the depths of the bog trying to drag me
within. I learned of far too many things; horrendous things
best left unmentioned beyond that, and other things that were just as
brilliant and far above honorable. Above all was the seeming
drive and love and longing for your mother, and that acted as a beacon
for my journey through his mind.
“And it was that, that actually led me to the
truth. It was the memory of your mother, Sheira Saunders, or
rather the lack there of that caught my attention. The
memories of she and your father and their term of service throughout
World War Two and beyond with the various versions of the Justice
Society is what is missing. Over thirty years of his
life’s memories are gone. The entire reincarnation
as Carter Hall; archeologist of the 1940’s is not
there. In his mind, he was reincarnated far later as the
Thanagarian policeman Katar Hol along with his wife and partner Shayera
who traveled to Earth in pursuit of the Shadow Thief
and later joined the Justice League. You of course should
well know the fate of that version better than anyone, and the
devastating losses we all suffered battling Monarch
in the Zero
Hour crisis.”
Fate nodded. “That brought forth this
reincarnation. More violent and savage than any since Khufu
himself, seemingly.” Fire listened intently to the
voice of Fate, and though seemingly hollow and devoid of emotion, she
heard the slightest catch as the young man spoke of his
father. “If as you say, Carter Hall has been
stripped of this body, mind and soul, then that explains the almost
sociopathic persona that attacked Belle Reeves. One might say
that Hawkman has been stripped of his conscience.”
“A fairly accurate description, I’d say.”
Beatriz jumped again, so intent on listening to J’onn and
Fate that she had not been expecting the Satellite’s intercom
to squawk to life. She placed a hand to her breast, feeling
the rapid beat of her heart as Mister Terrific added his own say.
“From what I’ve been able to collate from the
sketchy reports coming in from around the world, what you say happened
to Hawkman, along with what happened in the Society seems to
coincide. The greatest percentage of victims seems to be in
the sexagenarian range and above, logistically speaking. That
links directly to the members of the JSA who, appearances aside, were
about and active in World War Two, if not before. I believe
the numbers would be staggering if the war was not six decades ago and
more people from the period were alive. The scale then begins
a decline afflicting those that lived through the Fifties, then a bit
less in the Sixties and Seventies then almost non-existent after
1980. Reports indicate that the memories of World War Two and
later are fuzzy in most victims, if not outright missing.
Hawkman appears to be the worst case scenario, aside from the few
deaths reported, those due mainly to natural causes in the elderly
resulting directly from the trauma of the plague. People like
the Flash and Wildcat actually succumbed to unconsciousness for a time
when hit while the next generation that includes the likes of say, the
Black Canary and Rick Tyler felt a sickness and dizziness along with
memory lapse, sometimes loss. The next group would include
Courtney Whitmore, say the grand children of the Baby Boomers.
Those cases have been limited, and unfortunately I can’t
raise Young
Justice to check on Stargirl
for confirmation.”
Beatriz blinked, trying to take in all that she had just
heard. Thankfully Terrific had learned to talk down his
thoughts a bit, so she understood what he was saying. At
least she thought she did. Memories from nearly forty years
were being tapped at the very least. But why?
“So why did it hit you so hard, Doc?” she asked,
shrinking almost as Fate and J’onn both turned to
her. She had the feeling that the two men had forgotten that
she and Black Lightning were even in the room.
“Because along with the psychic assault, there was also a
vast surge of magic involved,” Hector Hall replied with an
audible sigh. “I’m quite certain that
Kent Nelson would have been prepared, or at least able to defend
against such an attack. I however am still new to the magic
game as I play it now, and Kent had a relatively sane Nabu
at his beckon call where as I am devoid of that aid. In a
word, Beatriz, I got suckered.”
“Well, from what I’ve heard in all this, you
weren’t the only one, Fate.” Jefferson
Pierce got up from his seat after closing his notes within his folder
and laptop alike and stepped up beside Beatriz.
“Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Indeed,” J’onn J’onzz
agreed. “Self recrimination and doubt in
one’s abilities will not win this day. We need to
concentrate and focus on what we have learned to determine the purpose
of the assault. I am certain that this attack is somehow
linked to the fledgling team now calling itself, the Outsiders.
Just how deeply involved they might be, I am uncertain. Their
thoughts are masked to me somehow, with strong mental barriers that are
easily in league with my own abilities. I have however been
using more mundane means to keep watch on them, up to their latest
battle in Opal City where the Spectre appeared. I believe too
that I finally found out their base of operations on Long Island,
though my most recent check on their headquarters found that it had
been destroyed.
“I’ve been in contact with various members of both
the JLA and the JSA over this and other items that I believe are
linked. Jack Knight has told me all he knows of that final
fight in Opal, though he was far more concerned, and rightly so, with
the condition of his father. Ted Knight is stable by the way
and out of the ICU.” There was a low murmur of
praise to that news that J’onn let pass as he gave another
quick check to the life support apparatus connected to the Hawkman;
designed to both heal him as well as keep him sedated for the time
being.
“Both Jack and the Black Canary fought the Sports Master and
Tigress earlier last year and agreed that the team vanished quite
literally at the conclusion of the fight. Likewise the JSA
reported a similar fate overtaking Vandal Savage recently, and the
Wizard as well. The latter was believed seen on the sidelines
of the Outsiders battle in Opal with a new and younger incarnation of
the Injustice Society. Many of those including the new Mist
and Icicle mysteriously disappeared along with the Outsiders after the
Spectre’s appearance. Though I have been forced to
deal with magic before, I must confess that I am out of my realm of
expertise, so I cannot begin to fathom just what the Spectre did, if
anything.”
“The Spectre has always been the true ‘Mystery Man’
of the JSA, J’onn.” Mister
Terrific’s voice no longer sounded tinny, and Beatriz turned
to see the man himself striding into the room and heading straight for
the computer console set up in one corner. He appeared tall
and strong, radiating confidence and humility all at once, especially
with his hero name hanging over him and the words ‘FAIR
PLAY’ emblazoned on
the sleeves of his leather jacket. He tapped a few keys on
the keyboard set into the computer’s desk and brought up a
Real Time Link that flashed a golden mask rotating onscreen: the image
of Oracle.
“JSA records are luckily in good order thanks to Ma
Hunkle’s Herculean efforts, but even so the legends of the
Spectre are wide and varied. Throughout his career
he’s always appeared to have near god-like powers dwarfing
some of the best including Kent Nelson and Superman. At times
those powers were lessened for some reason, but still well and beyond
the scope of mortal man. Then there was that period when he
almost seemed insane, reaping justice in the name of God thankfully
against those that deserved it, at least in my mind. I of
course have since had a change of mind in just how justice should be
dealt, but I can’t fault the man for his choice in victims,
as they were some of the vilest creatures to turn a crime.
Regardless, most recently the Spectre seemed back to his old, or
original self, appearing next to God in power but oddly without
direction. Some in the Society say that the loss of Jim Corrigan,
the Spectre’s Earthly host was the reason. I
can’t speculate myself. I never met Corrigan, and
had little exposure to the Spectre to date.”
“Corrigan’s not dead.”
All eyes turned to stare at Black Lightning. Jefferson Pierce
ignored the stares though as he stepped up to the computer and shook
his head, a look of almost awe on his face. “Boy,
the things I missed out on; the Internet, PAC Man, Cell
Phones…”
“Forgive what might be a rude response, Lightning, but how
would you know about Corrigan?” Mister Terrific
stood at Black Lightning’s side, watching the man intently as
his fingers seemed to stray, wanting to type on the keyboard.
“James Corrigan was a police officer in New York, and with a
few exceptions the Spectre rarely visited Metropolis. It
hardly seems that you and he – either one of them would cross
paths.”
“Shows what you know, Mister Not-Quite-As-Terrific-As-You-Think.”
“I do not believe,” J’onn
J’onzz interjected, “that we are still in the
presence of Black Lightning, Mister Terrific. Am I correct,
Boston Brand?”
“Give the big green Martian a cee-gar,” Black
Lightning said with a wide grin, spreading his arms and bowing at the
waist. “Just don’t light it,”
he added, standing straight again and striking a heroic pose.
“Boston Brand?” Terrific asked, confused, but
before J’onzz could respond a digitized voice sounded from
the computer’s speakers.
“Deadman.” It was the Oracle.
The mystery person that had become a vast library of knowledge on all
things Meta. He was known to few, and his true identity known
to fewer still, though Beatriz was certain that J’onn and
Terrific were probably both privy to that privileged
information. Oracle was even a member of the League, though
Beatriz had never met the man in person, or even really spoken to the
computer enhanced and altered image.
“Hero from the early years of what we refer to as the Silver Age of Heroes,
and again the Bronze Age
that we’re in now. Circus aerialist that was slain
by a ‘Hooked’
assassin employed by the League of
Assassins,
and ‘made’ to walk the Earth until his killer and
the greater scheme of the League was uncovered and foiled.”
“And of course, other things popped up after that,”
Lightning’s voice cut over Oracle’s.
“No rest for the wicked, Darlin’, but you know
that. Let’s not go spoutin’ anymore
secrets, hunh?” Oddly Oracle’s silence
showed agreement.
“Now,” the Deadman continued using Black
Lightning’s body as a host, “since you seem to be
taking a stroll down Memory Lane, maybe I can point out a couple of the
more touristy spots that you missed. The Spectre for instance
is all you said and then some. I know you all for the most
part don’t believe in God – “
“Not true!” Beatriz said with a passion.
“I go to Mass every chance I can, though it’s hard
sometimes here in the League. My dedication wavers a bit from
time to time, but not my conviction. I’m Catholic
through and through.”
“I too believe,” J’onn added,
“though my faith lies in a different version of higher
powers, and has been admittedly lacking of late.”
“Okay, okay,” Deadman said, raising
Lightning’s hands in a warding gesture.
“My point was about to be that there IS
a higher power. For me it’s female entity name of Rama Kushna
running the show. For old pasty face in the pixie shoes it
was G-O-D…
God. Being condemned to Limbo for the most part,
I’ve seen some things and all too often the Spectre has been
at the heart of it.”
“I can vouch for that,” Fate added in
agreement. “But you mentioned that Corrigan
wasn’t dead. That’s not true.”
“Yer thinkin’ to literal, kid, and in yer line
a’ work, that’ll get ya killed real
quick. Yeah, Corrigan died, an’ a violent death
too. That was the reason that he was chosen to be the Spectre
in the first place. Not too long ago though, the MAN
– and I use the term loosely – decided that
ol’ Jimmy boy had paid his due an’ granted him the
final step. Sort of nailed down that last nail in his coffin
an’ let him move on. It gets a bit thick after
that, so try an’ keep up.
“With Corrigan finally getting’ his well deserved
rest, God found himself a Lefty and needed a new right hand man; a new Spirit of Vengeance.
Don’t ask me why, but he pulled an Agnostic out of his bag of
tricks. Some computer geek – no offence, Terrific
– from India, transplanted to Russia and working for some mad
as a hatter Colonel with a Commie fetish name of Wut
(Means Fury by the way in case ya missed that). The geek was
a Meta, transformed in Chernobyl into a Russian Hero that could control
mechanisms from a distance.”
“Rocket
Red,”
J’onn said with a whisper. “I had often
wondered just what was behind that.”
“That’s right, big boy. Well that geek by
the name of Rajas
was the rolling dead. His body was literally locked in a
wheel chair that supported what life he had left. End of your
little trip to Siberia, that was all she wrote for him. At
least until God (in HIS
infinite wisdom) chose him as the new Spirit
of Vengeance.
BIG
mistake in my opinion, but who am I to argue. Rajas went on a
vengeful killing spree around the world with Negative Woman
hot on his heels. Lieutenant Colonel Valentina Vostok was
involved somehow, as was Mysta
the Light Girl. I was a little preoccupied at the time so I
just got the Reader’s Digest version of the story, but near
as I know when Darkseid made his recent play, God changed his mind
(leading me to believe HE
IS
a woman) and pulled the last plug on Rajas. Now
here’s where it gets good…
“During that bit you all dubbed Dark Genesis for the records
(remembering it or not), I met up with a lot of lost souls out there in
Limbo where I usually hang when things are dull. It was like Grand Central
at Rush
Hour, sans Jackie Chan, let
me tell ya. One a’ the souls I met though sort of
stood apart from the others. A fella you might know by the
name a’ Billy Zard.”
“The Wizard!”
“J’onn Boy, do me a favor an’ say Form of a Cigar Store
Indian!”
“What?”
“Never mind. Now Zard was dead, otherwise he
wouldn’t a’ been there. But in a weird
sense, he wasn’t. Hard to explain, really, but
regardless, I did my duty an’ sent him on his way.
Not long after he made his way back, when Darkseid was beat and Reality
fell back into place, sort of.”
“What in the hell is he talking about?” Beatriz
asked, totally lost.
“Darkseid altered Reality for his own ends not so long ago,
Fire. Thankfully, most of humanity is spared the horrors of
his reign and do not remember the worst of it. I will
‘explain’ later if you wish.”
The Martian Manhunter gave her such a look as to say ‘don’t ask’
that she finally shrugged.
“Whatever.”
“Smart girl,” Brand continued.
“Anyway, when Zard came back he seemed to have a
purpose. Now I don’t know just what he learned in
his trip through the Veil,
but apparently it stuck. It drove him a little crazy, and
into the bottle, but Vandal Savage did the AA thing and got Billy's
feet back under him. They fought the JSA for old
time’s sake, which was Step One in Zard’s master
plan. Then came Faust.”
“H’ronmeer’s Curse...”
“Assuming that means ‘Holy Shit’, you got
the right of it, Johnny. Zard’s been
workin’ the crowd since Day One.
He took out Felix Faust with an artifact called the Luck Stones of Bel,
an’ he’s been usin’ his stolen power to
manipulate things ever since, playin’ the League
an’ the Society like the Fiddler’s fiddle every
step of the way. He’s pulled in the old guns from
the Injustice Society, along with the New
Jacks,
usin’ what he learned in Dark Genesis as well as the
dimensional knowledge that he got in Hell an’ when you all
fought those Avengers.
He got backing from the likes of Blakewell and Luthor for finances and
called in some markers from his days in The Secret Society of
Super-Villains.”
“The Outsiders!” Oracle chimed in.
“Yup. Star Sapphire, Zoom, Angle Man, just to name
a few. It was all a front though. Everything was
just a sleight of hand – ‘cuz the Wizard WAS
just an Illusionist, remember – to distract you all, the
greatest minds on the planet in magic, psychic and physical.
I gotta admit, he had damn lofty goals.”
“Jesus!” Beatriz snapped. “Will
you just get to the point?”
“Easy, babe. Punch line’s
comin’. What Zard wanted was somethin’
that he learned about in the Other
Realm Beyond.
I can’t really explain it, ‘cuz I don’t
really remember myself, but once upon a time there was another world
I’ve heard. A better world apparently, where things
weren’t quite so… vicious as they are
now. The Wizard remembered though, and set out to recreate
that world. Just so happens too that he learned of a place
that would fit the bill for his plans. A corrupt little
corner of another dimension where crime and misery ruled under the
steel thumb of a guy name of Ultraman.”
“Earth 2!” J’onn exclaimed.
“Gods of Mars, it explains so much.”
“But you said yourself, Brand,” Fate said,
“Zard is an Illusionist at best. Granted, the Luck Stones
are powerful, but even if he used their curse to trap and tap into the
power of Felix Faust, there is no way that he could alter the face of
two worlds.”
“Enter the Injustice Society, son. Don’t
worry. Knowledge comes with age and experience.
With the likes of Vandal Savage, the Shade, Per Degaton and the Thinker
helping you out, well, there’s no telling what you might
accomplish.”
“The Thinker,” Oracle said.
“That explains a lot of the barriers that I’ve
encountered.”
“And don’t forget the heavy weights. Zard
made a lot of promises to a lot of villains; Black Adam, Doctor Psycho,
Terminator, not to mention the League of Assassins and his own
Outsiders. All of whom he stabbed in the back right before
heading out to greener pastures.”
“I’ve read the reports on Earth 2, and
it’s hardly greener pastures. As you said, Ultraman
ruled with a ‘Steel’ thumb and created a miserable,
polluted place with no hope at all.” Michael Holt,
Mister Terrific crossed his arms over his chest in defiance.
Beatriz figured that he was having a hard time buying the
Deadman’s story. She had to admit that it was way
over her own head.
“Haven’t you been listening, son? Well,
let me spell it out for you again. Zard sent Savage ahead to
deal with the Crime Syndicate’s headquarters. Easy
enough to get on the good side of that world’s last heroes;
Luthor and their version of the Joker. He downloaded the
Thinker into their computer – Brainiac – just as
soon as Zard sent the Outsiders over to deal with the CSA
proper. The Shade used his Dark dimensional powers to help
out in the transfer of Zard and his buddies in the ISA, and Per Degaton
went back in time there to alter things. Not our world, so
they didn’t care about the ramifications.
Meanwhile, the Outsiders beat the crap out of the CSA.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Holt said, still not
convinced. “Ultraman alone is potentially the most
powerful Meta around, should he come into contact with
Kryptonite.”
Black Lightning’s body sighed, then before Mister Terrific
could stop him his fingers were flying across the computer
keyboard. The monitor flickered and changed, and everyone
stared in confusion. They saw what appeared to be a view of
two worlds; two Earths. Between them and with a massive hand
on each hovered the Spectre, his head bowed, his body jerking
occasionally as though in pain. Before him was a glowing blue
dot.
“That’s impossible,” Holt whispered.
“A vision,” Fate said. “An
image created that our minds might comprehend. What is that
glowing area there?”
Deadman pressed a button on the keyboard over and over.
“Zoom,
zoom, zoom.”
The glowing blue dot enlarged until there was only a translucent blue
orb backed by a pasty white field that was the Spectre.
Shadowy forms seemed to move slowly within the orb, and as those
gathered strained to focus, one by one they understood.
“The CSA,” J’onn finally said.
“That’s right, Marvin. Not dead,
‘cuz that would foul up the master scheme. Not on
your Earth either, ‘cuz you know that wouldn’t last
long. You and your duplicates would swap off before too
long. Naw, Zard put the CSA out of sight and out of mind,
trapped by the power of the Sword of
Vengeance,
though how he actually corrupted the Spectre I haven't figured
yet. They’ll sit there for eternity though, unless
God takes a hand. Anyone see that happening?”
No one spoke. In a room full of an alien, a ghost, an Atheist
and a Catholic, not one of them imagined that Divine Intervention
would save the day. Beatriz had to think that this was not
the end. There were still rainbows after all, and besides, it
actually did not hurt her own world. The Wizard had left and
taken some of the planet’s worst villains with him.
Not right, granted, but he had also beaten the CSA and changed their
world for the better, at least in his opinion. As long as he
did not set his sights on Earth 1, she did not see the harm.
She was about to voice that opinion when something in the image of the
trapped CSA caught her eye.
“Hey,” she said, snapping the others from their
thoughts as she pointed to the screen. Someone’s
missing, right? Where’s Owlman?”
“Bingo!”
Earth
One:
Gotham
-
The Batcave...
She
felt no pain as she slammed the heel of her right boot into the
intruder’s solar plexus. She felt no sympathy as he
doubled over in pain, his warm breath gushing from his lungs and
strangling his cry of pain. She felt no exhaustion as she
stepped forward, caught in the momentum of her sidekick to drive an
elbow down between the man’s shoulder blades, driving him to
his knees. He was done, and she had not even worked up a
sweat.
She
wondered who he might be, and just why he had invaded the Cave.
He had some meager ability in the martial arts, but he was hardly a
master and far and away from her level of expertise. He was
barely in the same league as Robin. She wondered too as to
how he had even found the Bat Cave for that matter, and how he had
bypassed security. She knew from personal experience that The
Batman had made his home all but impregnable. There was
always a way of course.
A
thinker then. The intruder was a plotter and
planner. He was a thief of sorts, come to steal the secrets
of the
Cave, or perhaps to steal the
riches above in the mansion.
Doubtful.
Why go through the Bat Cave when his goal was Wayne Manor itself?
And
why the costume? The intruder was dressed not unlike The
Batman. The colors were similar; dark gray and
blue. He wore an obvious Utility Belt too, but the motif was
that of a bird; an owl she thought. Most odd, like some
fractured image of a fan’s delusion of grandeur.
Stranger
still that he had seemed to recognize that she was not The Batman,
despite her appearance. A foe then, some past antagonist that
she had not learned of in her lessons. The Batman had been
most insistent that she learn about all of his foes, that she recognize
them on sight and know
their ways and methods. A bizarre gallery of rogues to be
sure, but this one escaped her knowledge. No matter of
course. She had beaten him easily.
She
stepped back as the man clutched at his stomach, hacking and coughing
before her and on his knees. She took a defensive stance,
noting that his cloak was draped in such a fashion as to partially hide
his movements. Logic dictated that he would employ some
device from his belt if he had the stamina left to do so. She
had noticed immediately that he was favoring his right leg, and was now
spitting blood. An after effect of her opening blow; bear paw
thrust that had connected squarely with his mouth rather than under the
jaw. The Batman had said ‘No Killing’,
and she would comply.
The
tiny black marble rolled and bounced towards her from beneath the
man’s cloak, as expected. A timed device then, as
the bouncing would have set off something set for impact. She
swept her foot to the side, kicking it away –
Light
flared as her toe brushed the marble. Blinding white followed
by a shrill sound that stabbed into her brain with its
intensity. Cassandra Cain reeled under the onslaught,
blinking quickly to regain her vision, trying not to instinctively rub
her eyes. Her ears were ringing with the sonic squeal that
echoed over and over. She was effectively blind and deaf, but
far from helpless, if she reacted quickly enough.
The
toe of her boot connected with something hard with forward her snap
kick. She did not hear the intruder’s grunt of
pain, but did not need it. She had made contact and
immediately followed through, leaping forward with a backhand slicing
karate blow to where the man’s throat should have
been. The Batman would have to forgive her, but she would not
let the intruder win.
Nothing.
Momentum carried her into a roundhouse kick high in the air, which in
turn spiraled into a low leg sweep that again missed. The
intruder had scurried out of range with his diversion, probably rolling
with her forward snap.
She
crouched, waiting, urging her senses to clear. She kept her
fingers lightly on the ground before her, waiting for vibrations that
might signal his charge. There was a smell of sulfur in the
air from his flash bomb that negated her sense of smell, and taste was
useless as well of course. She had to hope that he was off
licking his wounds, recuperating even as she was.
Something
jabbed into her shoulder, claws like a grapple digging in.
She winced with the pain, obviously a mechanism reinforced with an
inner clamp not unlike Batman’s grapple line and
hook. She reached for the device but even as her gloved
fingers touched the metal she felt the jolt of electricity run through
her arm. She snarled, more from her own failure than the
pain, mentally cursing even as her left arm went dead and
limp. But her attacker had made a mistake.
Cassandra
grabbed the grapple line, twisting it once in her fist and
jerked. She felt the slightest resistance and actually heard
a faint yelp of surprise. Her hearing was returning already,
though still muted. She shifted her weight and brought her
right foot up, shooting her heel forward almost in a mule kick, though
askew. She connected well and true, gratified to hear the
high squeal of agony even through the man’s protection about
his genitals. If she had not shattered the protective cup,
she had at least driven it into his groin with enough force to drive
him down again.
Her
vision was shadowy at best, but she could make out the fuzzy silhouette
of her opponent rolling about on the ground beside her, obviously in
agony. She shifted back, raising her leg and dropping it on
to his throat. Not strictly a proper move, more a thing that
she had seen on the staged wrestling shows that Drake made her watch in
unwanted 'down time'. Whatever, it got the job
done. Just enough force to stun and draw in the intruder.
Cassandra
inched forward and wrapped her short but muscular legs about the
man’s throat. She felt a carapace, a neck brace no
doubt for protection and adjusted her head scissors, then began to
squeeze, quickly feeling it crack. She blinked, forcing her
eyes to see again, feeling the man’s efforts as he writhed
and kicked trying to get out of her tight grip. She squeezed
all the harder, slowly cutting off his oxygen.
It
would be so easy to kill him. A simple twist, a tightening of
her leg muscles or a swift blow to his helplessly trapped
head. She sighed, squeezing again as the man’s
struggles faltered and finally stopped altogether.
She
had promised…
His
head was pounding when consciousness finally returned. Lack of oxygen will do
that he mused. Once
he got over that pain however, he started to notice others.
His
tongue ran lightly over the jagged remnants of his two front
teeth. The bitch had shattered them with her first blow and
sent him reeling from the get go. The real pain had not set
in yet, but it would all too soon. He hoped he could regain
the upper hand before then. Nothing worse than trying to
operate around a toothache.
His
stomach hurt. His balls were still throbbing and his leg too
from the Gleeman’s silver hammer. Fucker.
It was about then as he was counting the parts of his body that did not
ache that he realized he was cold…
And
naked…
And
tied up. He felt the plastic zip-ties cutting harshly into
the flesh of his wrists and ankles. Too, there was a stiff
nylon cord wrapped about his chest and the high back of the metal
computer chair that he was seated upon. The little bitch had
stripped him of his belt and uniform, and ultimately his dignity and
tied him to a chair. Cunt.
Kind
of exciting though…
He
saw her then, after the initial rage died following the obligatory
thrashing about for freedom. She was seated not ten yards
away, silhouetted in the glow of a wide screen computer
monitor. She was still dressed up as The Batman, though she
had her cowl down and after a bit of focusing in the eerie light he saw
that she was Asian. Not Gordon then.
Couldn’t
be her anyway, he recalled. The Earth 2 Joker had shattered
the Batgirl’s spine or spleen or something else
vital. Crippled her in an ironic twist to what had happed in
the Real
World. So similar,
yet different.
Owlman
smiled, quickly regretting it as he winced in pain, watching as the Chinee
bitch rotated and flexed her left arm. Still feeling the
after effects of his Owl Hook and the jolt of electricity. Fuck you, bitch!
He
glanced at the monitor then and saw that she was scrolling through
files labeled JLA
and Classified.
He saw a group shot of the CSA in the divided window, and another
close-up of himself alongside a long column of script. The
Batman did keep thorough files he knew, mainly from hacking into them
himself.
Apparently
the girl didn’t know who he was. That could be good
or bad. He had come to Earth 2 looking for help after
all. Depending on what The Batman said about him in the
files, it could go either way. He would have to lay it on
thick and hope for the best.
Owlman
cleared his throat...
The
girl turned after a moment, swiveling the chair about so that she faced
him. Her hair was slicked down with sweat and raven black,
and her face seemed clear and smooth. She had huge and dark Anime
eyes, like a Hentai
cartoon straight out of Nippon.
She was actually pretty for a Chink,
if a bit scrawny and all muscle. Wayne could pick
‘em, though somehow Owlman doubted that he partook of the
kids he kept around despite what the tabloids probably said about
him. More’s the pity.
“Hey,
kid,” Owlman finally said after several minutes of the girl
simply staring at him, wincing at the pain and whistle that his voice
caused. “I come in peace,” he continued
with a chuckle, “but you left me in pieces.”
Nothing.
She just sat there staring at him, her face cool and impassive.
“Batgirl?
“No.
Batman,” he said taking in the costume. She was
dressed as the
Bat, so obviously something
had happened to Wayne. That was bad. He had been
counting on finding the Bat and having him and his Rah-rah Club in the
JLA come to Earth 1 and save the day. This little snit might
be Bruce Lee in a skirt, but she was NOT
The Batman. Not by a long shot.
He
wondered briefly just what had happened to Wayne that he had sunk to
the depths of giving his mantle over to some little Chinee
chick. What had happened to Robin? Dead?
Didn’t matter really, but he would have liked to
known. Regardless, it was the girl he was dealing with, and
he had to concentrate. He had to think.
He
just wished she would stop staring at him.
Maybe
the truth. He had rarely tried it before, but things were so
out of whack on this 'back-ass' world that it just might
work. “Listen, kid. I see
you’ve been reading up on me and my crew, so I’ll
skip the long version introductions and the obligatory origin
story. Yeah, I’m the Owlman from what you label
Earth 2, that world’s version of the Bat and a card-carrying
member and founder of the CSA. Yeah, I’m a villain,
at least by your standards, but on my world I’m a hero
despite what that computer log probably says. But forget all
that.
“I
came here looking for the Batman… Bruce Wayne, because I
need help. There’s some bad shit going down on my
world, sweetheart, and I think that only the Bat and the JLA can save
the day.”
Nothing…
“And
my world.”
Nothing…
“And
the millions of people living there.”
Nothing.
Fuck!
Who was this bitch, anyway? Any of the other sap heroes on Goody Earth
would be bending over backwards by now to save Owlman and his
planet. “Dammit, kid! If you
ain’t gonna help me then let me go! I’ll
go find Superman! Wonder Broad! Hell,
I’ll settle for the Green Arrow!”
She
twitched. Finally he saw reaction. Green Arrow had
struck a chord. Was she in love with him? He could
not see it himself. Green Arrow was a loud, overbearing
braggart who was caught up in way too many Yuppie
causes like Green Peace
last he heard. And old enough to be her father, not that that
really mattered.
He
watched as she stood up and pulled the cowl back over her
head. She strode forward then, grace personified he had to
admit. Her stride was fluid and smooth, her footfalls silent
as she stepped beside the chair and picked up a bag that he assumed
contained his costume and equipment before she placed her hands on the
back of the chair and started wheeling him across the cave.
She
stopped and spun him about when they reached a small gray disk that was
riveted into the rock floor. There had been words inscribed,
but he had not had the time or angle to make them out as she spun his
chair into position. Only the image of a star-spangled shield.
She
stepped back to the computer for a moment, leaning over the keyboard as
she typed something in. He wondered why she had not
spoken. Couldn’t talk, or chose not to?
It was eerie regardless, and getting on his nerves.
“What’re
you doing?” he asked as she strode back to his
side. She had a remote control in her hand now. Taser?
He hoped not, but he was getting excited again.
“What
are you up to?” he asked, watching as he felt her fingers
digging into his shoulder with her right hand while the left extended
holding the remote.
She
pressed a button and the world faded away…
To
be continued…
Next
Issue: The story continues in Outsiders
#21 as we catch up on the Wizard and his machinations with the
Injustice Society. Also, just what is Owlgirl up to as she
gathers a new and strange assortment of allies? Plus, learn
the final fates of most of the current Outsiders as my run on the title
draws to a close. Earth 2
continues!
Author's
Notes
The Story that you
(hopefully) just read was admittedly a bit long-winded, but
necessary. Due to my own slow creative process and lack of
postings over this past summer it was pointed out that a couple of the
recent issues were a bit confusing, and rightly so. Hopefully
the included Recap above answered a few of the questions and tied a few
of the loose ends. There are still a couple of both
remaining, such as:
How
can the JSA be on
Earth 2 when they are still on Earth 1 as well?
How
can Doctor Fate be
dead (as seen in Outsiders #20), yet still be alive in JLA #40?
Is
Alan Scott dead as
well?
Most of you probably
know what's happening by now, but for those of you who don't, not to
worry. The rest of the answers are just around the corner.
For those of you
interested in a bit more of an indepth explanation, here's a brief
reading list:
The story of Beatriz De
Costa (Fire) appears mainly in various issues of the mainstream Justice
League comics: America, Europe, International, etc., as well as here at
JLU: 2001 JLA.
Black Lightning's
recent involvement with the JLA began in JLA #38, crossed into Task
Force X #7 by Matt Hrubey, and will continue in further issues of the
JLA here at JLU: 2001.
The long and convoluted
history of the Hawkman Family (including Hawkgirl, Hawkwoman, Hector
and Lyta Hall and their son) runs through a series of comics dating
back to the 1940's including but not limited to: Flash Comics #1,
Hawkman, All-Star Comics, Legend of the Hawkman #1-3, JSA Secret Files
and Origins #1, JSA #23-26, and various issues of the Justice League of
America Volume 1. Here at JLU: 2001, check out JLU: Presents
#1 by Steve Crosby for the Hawkman's reincarnation into the JLU
universe.
The story of the
Wizard's recent rise to power is just as scattered as the
Hawkman's. Key storylines start with his first appearance in
All-Star Comics #34 and continue through that series during the 40's
and 50's, then moving into the Silver Age with Justice League of
America (Vol 1) and sporadic appearances throughout the mainstream DC
Universe. Here at JLU: 2001, his notable storyline
appearances and influences include: JLA #7-9 (w/ Felix Faust and the
Luck Stones of Bel), JLU: 2001 Presents #7, the Dark Genesis Storyline,
the Twist of Fate storyline, Avengers VS JLA cross-over with M2K and
Chris Munn, Aftermath #2, JSA Vol. 2 by Bertram Gibbs, Outsiders #10-
20, and the Omniverse Halloween Special where the Wizard takes a stroll
through Hell after the events in Dark Genesis.
Mister Terrific is
integral to the Earth 2 storyline partially because of his activities;
first with the Outsiders #1-9 by Mick Edwards, and then with the JSA by
Bertram Gibbs and other JLU: 2001 appearances such as the Twist of Fate
storyline.
Deadman has sort of
been my Watson throughout my tenure at JLU: 2001. He began
his spooky exploits way back in the 60's in Strange Adventures
#205-216, various issues of the Brave and the Bold around the same
time, and he was revamped in his own 1986 Mini-Series at DC
Mainstream. Here at JLU: 2001 he has appeared in various
stories such as Twist of Fate, Martian Manhunter, Aftermath and his own
story in Showcase # 20 by Paul Roof.
The Spectre first
appeared in the 40's in More Fun Comics #52 where Jim Corrigan met his
grisly demise. He appeared throughout the mainstream DC
Universe over the decades, most often in direst times such as the
Crisis on Infinite Earths Maxi-Series, but also as the Spirit of
Vengeance in Strange Adventures in the 70's as well as his own
short-lived series. At JLU: 2001 he has had important roles
in Twist of Fate, Dark Genesis, Aftermath and has appeared in JLA,
Outsiders and various issues of JLU: 2001 Presents and the
Flash. Jim Corrigan was replaced by Rajas as the Spectre in
Showcase #8-9, but Rajas himself first appeared in JLA # 10-12 as
Rocket Red and a member of Red Square, and later in Dark Genesis and
Aftermath tie-ins with Valentina Vostok; Negative Woman.
Rajas has since 'moved on', being replaced once again by Jim Corrigan
as the Spectre through the Wizard's manipulations. Their
combined future remains unresolved.
The Crime Syndicate of
Amerika has appeared throughout the JLU: 2001 Universe, most notably in
Will Short's opening run on JLA #1-6, the Outsiders and in the Avengers
VS JLA cross-over w/ M2K. With the group currently imprisoned
between dimensions by the Spectre, they rely on Owlman to resolve the
Crisis on their own EARTH 2. Just how he might do that
remains to be seen, as he is currently in the care of Batman 3;
Cassandra Cain.
I'm sure that I've
missed a few references, but hopefully those listed will shed a little
light on the BIG picture. Any of you that note something that
I've left out, do feel free to let me know via E-mail or on the JLU:
2001 Yahoo Group.
Hope you keep
reading. Thanks!
Curt Fernlund
11/24/07
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Story © 2007 Curt
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