Annual #1: "Justice Society of America"

Calvin City, Ten Years Ago…

The backyard barbeque was well underway at the Pratt house, and it seemed like the whole neighborhood was there. Al had stationed himself at the grill, and was happily flipping burgers and brats, Mary at his side helping to distribute the food. Pratt children and grandchildren scurried about, playing with their water guns as the adults gossiped and caught up with each other.

Everyone seemed to be having a great time--- except Jo. Alone in the house, Josephine Morgan Pratt stood in front of the mirror in the upstairs bathroom, staring at her reflection as if it were unfamiliar. She was eleven years old, the youngest of her parent’s ten children, and she had her father’s coloring: auburn hair and freckles. She had never doubted her parents’ love for her, but she had always thought herself unremarkable, just one of the innumerable Pratt brood: she had eight nieces and nephews, some older than she was, and a grand nephew almost the same age. This had never bothered her. She was a content, happy little girl.

Until today. Today she found out she was different.

She raised her right arm, fingers splayed out, and turned her hand over, examining it. Seemed normal. But earlier, when the neighbor boy had pushed her down, and ran away laughing, something had happened. She watched him run off, and her right hand clenched into a fist--- and it began to tingle. She pounded it against the sidewalk, and watched in amazement as it cracked, her hand unscathed. When she calmed down, she tried to tell her Dad, but her oldest brother, James, had interrupted her with news of their latest impending addition to the family--- another grandchild.

So Jo had come upstairs to try to figure this out.

She balled her hand into a fist, and concentrated hard, but nothing happened. She had grown up on stories, told by her father’s friends, of her father’s exploits during ‘the War’, and she tried hard now to remember what they had said about his so-called ‘Atomic Punch.’ Had she somehow inherited this power…?

“Understanding comes slowly.”

Suddenly, the mirror filled with an unfamiliar figure. Behind her materialized a red-haired man in black leather, a predatory grim on his face. Before Jo could react at all, he covered her mouth with a handkerchief that smelled funny, smothering her outcry.

“Don’t struggle, my dear. I’m doing you a favor.” He said quietly. “I’m going to take you away from all this, take you where you will be appreciated. Who’s going to miss one little girl in this house, anyway? Shhh! A bold destiny awaits you…”

Blind panic filled Jo, and she felt herself losing consciousness. The last thing she felt was pure, unbridle power gathering in her right fist… Then she lost it, her limbs going limp as she slumped into the arms of Per Degaton.

Wolfsschanze, the Prussian Hinterland, 1939…

Deep inside Fortress Europe, Der Fuhrer brooded in his heavily-guarded forest retreat, the Wolf’s Lair, brooding over the progress of the war.

He stalked the thick animal-skin carpets of the hunting lodge, glancing occasionally up at the artifact hanging over the mantle-piece: the Spear of Destiny glinted in the soft light of the fireplace, giving off its own internal glow. He longed to take it down, to hold it in his hands and share in its potency… It always made him feel better when he held it.

He was reaching for it when the knock came at his door. The SS guard entered and saluted smartly.

“Heil Hitler!” He clacked his heels together, slashing the air with his outstretched arm.

“What is it?” Hitler snapped, annoyed at the interruption.

“Mein Fuhrer, Herr Degaton has returned.”

The Fuhrer had left orders to be alerted whenever the red-haired American returned to the complex; Degaton was working on a very special project for the Reich…

Shoving past the SS guard, Hitler stomped out of the lodge and across the yard, his breath frosty in the cold Prussian winter air. He headed for the campus of buildings where Degaton had his little ‘academy.’

“Ah, mein Fuhrer.” Degaton greeted him with a broad smile and a salute at the door to the dormitory. He was ushering a frightened teenaged boy through the doorway, leaving him to the care of a severe looking woman with iron-grey hair.

“I see you have brought back from the future another one of their whelps.” Hitler stared intently at the round-faced child as he was led away.

“Yes. That one’s name is Ray Terrill, and he will grow to develop fantastic powers. I snatched him from 1981, right from under his parent’s very noses. They thought he had drowned, pulled into the undertow on a Caribbean vacation…” He spoke the words as if he savored each and every syllable.

“Spare me the details, just assure me that our plan will work.” Hitler glared at him. “That these super-powered brats you are bringing back here from the future will be the key to destroying the Justice Society of America, and changing history so that my glorious Thousand Year Reich will reign triumphant!”

Degaton nodded his head respectfully. Ever since he had told Hitler of a future wherein the Third Reich had lost the war, the Fuhrer had become a haunted, desperate man. He had been more than willing to go along with whatever plans his trusted ally Per Degaton advised.

“Never doubt it, mein Fuhrer.” Degaton said smoothly, escorting Hitler into the dormitory. “Baroness Von Gunther has the indoctrination regimen well underway.”

Before them, six children sat in six chairs in front of a projection screen, watching a grainy black and white newsreel, their foreheads strapped securely so they could not look away. The newsreel footage was of the American mystery men known as the Justice Society, acting, in turns, buffoonish and decadent--- and then suddenly sinister and horrific, performing acts of violence and cruelty that no child should have been forced to watch.

Hitler had had his best propagandists shoot the film, to Degaton’s exact specifications, though the actors bore little resemblance to the real people: Wonder Woman was no buxom Teutonic blonde, nor was the Atom a dwarf…!

But it mattered little. All that mattered was what they represented.

“I have taken great care in who I’ve selected for our project.” Degaton told the Fuhrer, who stood with his hands clenched tightly behind his back, surveying the scene with some satisfaction. “In addition to Ray Terrill, the son of the Ray, and inheritor of his father’s powers, I have also recently acquired Jesse Chambers--- the one with the blonde pigtails. She is a speedster, and possesses a modicum of enhanced strength, as well. Her parents are the ones called Johnny Quick and Liberty Belle, of the JSA Reserves Battalion. Josephine Pratt, who we brought in last year, is the daughter of the Atom, and has inherited his ‘atomic punch’ power. You already know Deanna Barr, the daughter of Bulletman. She absorbed a toxic amount of Thanagarian Nth Metal radiation when she was a child, and, in addition to flight, can transform her flesh at will into a kind of living--- and impenetrable!--- metal. And, of course, our prize pupils.” Degaton swelled just at the thought of it, his greatest, and longest-term project: he had himself sent the mentally unbalanced Rose Canton to Alan Scott’s bed that one night, many years in the future. “Jennie-Lynn Hayden and Todd Rice, twin offspring of Green Lantern, one with the power of light, the other with the power of darkness.”

Hitler nodded impatiently. He knew most of this--- some of these brats had been here years already.

“And you are sure these--- what do you call them? Infinitors?--- will destroy the Justice Society…?”

Degaton forced himself to restrain his frustration with the Fuhrer.

“They have the power, and we are giving them the training and the motivation…” Degaton shrugged. “The JSA will never see them coming. And if they do, how could they fight their own children?”

The Fuhrer’s lip quirked. He relished the irony almost as much as Degaton did.

You can smile now, my desperate friend, Degaton thought to himself. I will have my revenge against the JSA, and I will use your precious Third Reich to train my Infintors--- but you will never live to see the fruits of our labor! With the JSA destroyed, Per Degaton will rule alone!

Salem, Massachusetts, the Present Day…

“So let me get this straight,” Charles McNider steepled his finger-tips and leaned towards Wesley Dodds, who stood by the mantelpiece and the softly glowing fire. “You’re saying that these two people, whom none of us can remember, fought alongside us in the JSA all those years ago as the heroes Mr. Terrific and Johnny Thunder…?”

“No,” Wes said wearily, gazing into the fire. “I’m saying they once did, but not anymore. They no longer exist now. They were wiped from existence by Per Degaton, murdered in his eternal vendetta against us…”

The others exchanged alarmed glances. They had not heard from Degaton since 1951, but he had always proved a dangerous foe.

“I don’t understand.” Dinah admitted with some frustration. “If they never existed, than how---.”

“Degaton has mastered the Chronocalculus,” Kent Nelson interrupted, stepping away from the wall where he had patiently waited with Inza as Wesley had tried to explain to their friends what was going on. “It is a discipline he could only have learned in a far-flung future, and seems to allow him not only a great mobility in the Timestream, but a certain sensitivity to points of weakness. You see, the universe abhors a vacuum, and has a tendency to course correct. If he wants to wipe out the JSA, he simply can’t go back to, say, the nursery of Alan Scott and smother the child in his crib: someone else would then find the Starheart and become Green Lantern. But there are certain points that are weaker than others, people, places and events that are cosmically expendable, and act as dominoes--- knock them down, and the others fall more easily. This is Degaton’s plan: to seek out those spots, and chip away at us, unraveling and splintering the JSA at our most vulnerable points!”

Dinah could not refrain from a gasp, one trembling hand going to her mouth.

In the horrified silence that followed, they tried to take it all in.

“And so this Mr. Terrific and Johnny Thunder--- they were--- how did you say it?--- cosmically expendable?” Rex frowned, going over to where Dinah sat, and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Yes.” Said Kent Nelson.

“But then how did Wes know about them?”

At that, Wesley Dodds turned from his contemplation of the fire’s dying embers, and answered Rex.

“I--- I’ve been dreaming about them for years.” He muttered, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose. “As you all know, my dreams and nightmares tap into a realm of, what Dr. Fate calls, expanded consciousness. At first, I thought I was dreaming a fantasy, but it all seemed so real--- as real as memory! Johnny Thunder was just a kid, really. Not too bright, but his heart was big. He was able to call upon a djinni with wondrous powers, and he always did the right thing. Mr. Terrific was a genius, and a man who wanted to make his life mean something. He was devoted to the concept of ‘fair play’; he doesn’t deserve this… this obliteration. Neither of them do.”

“Makes you wonder what other damage he’s done.” Green Lantern rubbed his chin, scowling. “The HUAC Hearings that forced us into retirement…?”

Kent Nelson nodded. “Yes. Engineered by Degaton. That… and much else.” He stared at Alan Scott meaningfully.

Before that enigmatic statement could be explained, Ted Grant shot from his chair in frustration and confusion, running his calloused hands through his stubbly hair.

“Alright, we get it: Degaton is a menace! But will someone please tell me what the Spear of Destiny has to do with all this? Just looking at that thing makes my skin crawl.”

Ted Knight, who’d been examining the artifact in question, looked up as everyone glanced his way, and gingerly leaned it against the stone wall.

“Looks like the real thing to me.” He pronounced taciturnly. “How--- and where!--- did you find it, Wes?”

The look in Wesley Dodds eyes became pained, and almost embarrassed. He turned away from them again to stare back at the fire.

“After Dian’s death, I was desolate. I--- I felt that there wasn’t anything left for me to live for, but I had all this youth and vigor… I wandered the globe, looking for a reason to…” He cleared his throat, shoving down the emotion, and went on. “One night, I dreamt of the Spear, and I remembered what hideous power it was capable of; it felt like a loose end, a problem the JSA had never solved. I feared for what would happen if it ever fell into the wrong hands again, so I embarked upon a quest to find it--- and destroy it!” He shook his head, as if ashamed of his naiveté. “I spent years looking for it. I looked into many dark places, and saw much that was good and much more that was very, very bad. And always, I dreamed of the Spear, leading me onward, as if I were on a Grailquest. There were rumors and whispers of it everywhere from Rennes-le-Chateau to Katmandu, but just when I thought I was getting close, it seemed the furthest out of reach. Last year, I found myself in a place called Nanda Parbat, high up in the Himalayas--- and for the first time since I lost Dian, I felt at peace. I’ve always been a student of Eastern disciplines, so I decided to rest there. I trained for a long time with the lamas, returning my body to a point of not only optimal physical health, but mental and emotional as well. In Nanda Parbat, I regained a balance I thought I lost twenty years ago… and just when I had stopped looking, that which I had sought, found me.”

“The Spear.” Ted Knight nodded.

“Yes.” Said Wesley. “I received a… visitation. I woke up one night to find the Spectre in my cell. He would not respond to me at all, but led me out of the ashram, and into the snow. I followed him into a valley, and to a cave I had not seen before. It was the tomb of a medieval knight, of the Secret Order of St Dumas. I asked the Spectre why he had brought me here, but he only pointed inside, then vanished. The tomb was ancient, but still lit by torches along the walls. The Spear was there, atop the catafalque, and clutched in the stone hands of the effigy. It released easily into my hands, and the moment I touched it, I realized something was not right!”

“The Spear is attuned to the rightful course of human history,” Inza Nelson spoke up for the first time, her many bracelets tinkling as she moved up to stand by her husband. She was still possessed of an otherworldly youth and beauty, but, like Kent, had never seemed more distant. “Everything has a destiny--- you, me, even the rocks and stones of this very Tower. When that is tampered with, the Spear calls to be found. It will seek out an agent by which things can be set right.”

“A moment, please.” Charles McNider held up a hand. “If that is true, than you’re saying that Hitler was the rightful wielder of the Spear all those years ago, and that we were never meant to stop him…?”

“Who can say where the true path of destiny lies?” Inza shrugged. “Perhaps the world needed to deal with Hitler, that the fires of the war forged not only a world capable of dealing with true evil, but men and women willing to fight to save it? Or perhaps destiny is more perverse, and that chaos and misrule are the natural order. Who can say? Destiny is inscrutable. What we do know for sure, is that Wesley Dodds found the Spear, and that it has given him insight to a great danger facing us.”

“Let’s get to it, already!” Ted Grant muttered in exasperation.

Wes blew out a breath, and picked up his narrative. “There’s not much left for me to tell. As I said, the minute I picked up the Spear, I was bombarded with images and feelings that something was wrong. The dreams of Terry and Johnny returned, and I started getting glimpses of Degaton, skipping like a stone across the river of time, but always hunting the JSA. I caught bits and pieces of his masterplan, but despite all my meditation, neither I nor the lamas of Nanda Parbat could piece it all together. That’s when I decided to come to the only people I knew that could help me figure this out. So I came to Salem, and Kent called the rest of you here as well…” He looked to Kent to finish telling them the rest.

Kent Nelson stared at them, his eyes intense. “As Wesley has already explained, Degaton is using his command of the Chronocalculus to control and manipulate history, warping it to his own nefarious ends. This, of course, is naturally abhorrent to the will of the Spear, and as Degaton’s meddling threatens us, the Spear has come into our hands so that we may put an end to his threat. But there is no limit to Degaton’s perfidy--- he has used every weapon available to him, every stratagem, and balks at nothing: murder, deception, kidnapping… Anything to give him the upper hand over the JSA. He will ensure our destruction at all costs!”

“But why?” Dinah asked, clutching the hand of Rex Tyler laid comfortingly on her shoulder. “Why does he hate us so much?”

“Because, Dinah, we have stood in his way at every turn.” Green Lantern answered with steel in his voice. “Degaton is a megalomaniac, and the JSA has been there to block his every attempt at domination.”

“You speak the truth, Alan. Our destinies are entwined.” Kent said thoughtfully. “If Per Degaton is ever to succeed he must deal with us first. For him, we are the pebble in the timestream, diverting the course of a mighty river. For Per Degaton to reign supreme, he must kill the Justice Society of America!”

“Hmmph.” Ted Grant cracked his knuckles, itching for a fight. “What makes him think he’ll be more successful this time? We put him done before, we’ll put him down again.”

“My friends, listen to me!” Kent Nelson implored then with a sudden urgency. “Nothing about Degaton’s coming assault is arbitrary! He has had years---decades!--- to plan his final move. He has watched us from the future, he has manipulated our past; and if he has chosen now as the time to strike, it is because the Chronocalculus has advised him that we are at the weakest point of our history! Despite our extended vitality, some of us have begun to feel the effects of age and infirmity, the memory of our exploits are fading from the minds of the people--- and we have lost many members. If Degaton strikes now, it is precisely because we can be destroyed--- this is his chance! If he destroys the JSA now, he will proceed to wipe us from existence!”

Into the ominous silence, Dinah Lance gasped.

Kent Nelson went on. “If he destroys us, this current generation of heroes---the Justice League, the Titans, the Outsiders--- will never have had our example to look to, and might never have arisen… Might never have banded together to save the world from the recent Crisis. If we fall, then so falls the world!”

Berlin, April, 1945…

Per Degaton slowly stalked the cold stone floor in the bunker below the Reichchancellery, ignoring the light dusting of falling plaster, and the distant sound of bombs exploding. He was intent only on reviewing his stormtroopers, the agents of his revenge--- his Infinitors.

They stood ramrod-straight before him, all of them wearing the same look of steely determination. He had carefully guided and molded them for years. Their bodies were weapons of war, their powers carefully honed and perfected. And he had shaped their every thought to one end: the destruction of the villainous Justice Society of America!

He ceased his pacing and faced them, growling directly into the face of the tall, busty red-head: “What is your mission?”

Josephine Morgan Pratt, daughter of the Atom--- Codenamed: Atomika--- answered in a strident voice: “Kill the Justice Society of America!”

Well-pleased by the answer, Degaton moved to the next in line. “Why do we do this?”

Todd Rice, cloaked in shadows, son of Green Lantern--- Codenamed: Obsidian--- responded: “Because they are godless, corrupt and decadent. They are all that stands between us and a world of peace and order!”

Nodding, Degaton went to the next Infinitor, the green-skinned girl with the page-boy haircut, and the star-burst emblem on her chest. “They will try to sway you with lies and tricks. How will you respond?”

Jennie-Lynn Hayden, daughter of Green Lantern and heir to the power of the Starheart--- Codenamed: Jade--- cried out: “With hardened hearts and overwhelming force!”

A smile began to spread across the would-be tyrant’s face. He narrowed his eyes at the brightness coming from the next Infinitor. “For whom will you work this miracle? Who is your true father?”

Ray Terrill, son of the Ray--- Codenamed: The Ray--- pulsed like an angry solar flare. “Per Degaton!” He barked.

Onto the next Infinitor, and Degaton was showing his teeth. He looked the gleaming, molten metallic figure up and down and asked: “Who has made you the perfect instruments of justice that you are today?”

Deanna Barr, daughter of Bulletman and Bulletgirl, her conical helm glinting in the light of the Ray--- Codenamed: Bulleteer--- responded without hesitation: “Per Degaton!”

At the end of the line, Degaton was practically thrumming in anticipation as he faced the last Infinitor. “And who shall reign over all in an Everlasting Reich?”

Jesse Chambers, daughter of Johnny Quick and Liberty Belle--- Codenamed: Cyclone--- her every molecule vibrating with barely contained speed and fury, yelled back at him: “Per Degaton!”

Degaton sucked in a breath, turning on his heel and stalking back, to face them all at once. He surveyed them one last time: Atomika, Obsidian, Jade, the Ray, Bulleteer, and Cyclone--- the instruments of his revenge. The irony of it was like a fine single-malt, dancing on his tongue: from the loins of his greatest enemies came the means of their downfall.

He swept his arms up in a magnificent gesture, the Time-bubble waiting behind them, and growled: “To the 21st century, then, my Infinitors, and to the JSA! Let’s show them the time of their lives!”

“Out of the question!” Green Lantern declared passionately, striding down the stone foyer of Fate’s Tower. Ahead of him, waiting with Inza Nelson, were Dinah, Al and Charles, out of costume, but looking determined to join them; at Alan’s side were Wildcat, Hourman, Starman and Sandman, all clad in uniforms long-unused, but ready for action.

“Alan, please,” Dinah began quickly. “We may not be able to fight, but we can at least lend our support---.”

“Speak for yourself, Canary.” Al Pratt huffed, punching his right fist into his open left palm, the very air around his knuckles crackling with barely-contained power. “Some of us can still pack a wallop!”

This actually caused Wildcat to guffaw.

“C’mon, Al! I’m not gonna go into the fight of my life worrying about your tubby behind dropping dead from a heart attack.”

Al Pratt glared at his friend, but snapped back a retort.

“Surely, Alan, we can be of some assistance?” Dr. Charles McNider asked reasonably, his weak leg forcing him to lean heavily on his cane. “Remember what Fate said: Degaton has chosen now because we are at our weakest. Just the five of you can’t hope to withstand the assault he---.”

“We’ll have to be enough.” Alan Scott said in a tone that would brook no argument. “The three of you would be sitting ducks out there, Doc, and you know it. I won’t use any of you as cannon-fodder.”

“Besides,” Hourman said in a gruff tone that belied the emotion of the moment. “It would be more dangerous explaining to little Dinah why we let her aged-mother go into battle.”

Tears welled in Dinah Lance’s eyes, and she swatted at Rex Tyler.

“Who’re you calling ‘aged’, you big lummox…” She choked down tears and embraced her old friend fiercely. Then she hugged Alan next, and the team took a moment to say their goodbyes.

With a wave of her hand, Inza opened a portal to the outside; Starman lifted his cosmic rod and took to the air, followed by Green Lantern, his ring creating a cozy green bubble for Hourman, Wildcat and Sandman to ride in behind them.

“Where to?” Ted Knight asked as they rode the thermals high over sleepy Salem.

{Degaton will strike where he can do the most damage to us, and to our legacy.} Spoke the Sandman.

Alan Scott nodded. “Right. To New York, then.” He said grimly. “The JSA Museum.”

Inside the museum, the emergency generator had kicked in, but the track lighting on the ceiling was not enough to dispel much of the darkness. The Grand Foyer was a cavernous room, with a balcony that ran the length of the second storey, accessible only by a winding marble staircase.

Starman held his cosmic rod up like a torch, the glow bathing them in argent radiance.

“Degaton!” Green Lantern called out in challenge, his voice amplified by his ring and ringing with outrage. It carried through the further halls and exhibit rooms, and its echo seemed the only response forthcoming.

They moved in cautiously, spreading out across the darkened room. Glass cases of mementoes and memorabilia were broken open and some lay shattered on the marble floor, the precious contents spilled out. Wildcat bent to pick up a broken violin, the strings snapped. It had belonged to the Fiddler, one of Jay’s earliest foes. He set it back on a broken pedestal, squinting into the darkness.

{This darkness is not natural.} Sandman warned them, unholstering his gas gun, and stepping around a fallen statue of Captain Marvel.

Green Lantern and Starman shared a quick look. Starman raised his cosmic rod, its light flaring even brighter, and Green Lantern poured his will into his ring, giving the entire room an emerald cast. But still the darkness pressed around them, the shadows rushing in to crowd out the light.

Alan Scott held his clenched fist before him, his normally smooth brow furrowed. He was almost entirely limned in green, directing all of his energy into the rapidly shrinking aura of power emanating from his fist.

“And I shall shed my light over dark evil,” He whispered intently the words he had taken as a mantra so many years ago. He used them now to focus his concentration, to keep at bay the encroaching darkness. “For the dark things cannot stand the light… I shall shed my light over dark evil…”

In front of Alan, projecting from the marble statue of the Mystery Man known as Tarantula--- a shadow shifted and moved! It sprang from the plane of the floor, becoming three-dimensional, coalescing into the figure of a man. Cold white eyes stared back at Alan, and teeth appeared.

“Hey, Dad.” Said the ebony figure, much to Green Lantern’s surprise. Then the figure reared back and punched Green Lantern square in the jaw.

The hero staggered back, caught off guard as much by the words as the action of his attacker. Alan righted himself, but not before Hourman, who was closest to him, could leap forward to his defense. The Man of the Hour lunged to grab GL’s attacker in a bear hug, but fell upon insubstantial shadow, his momentum carrying him clumsily forward, mocking laughter ringing in his ears. Hourman crashed into the statue of Tarantula, his Miraclo-enhanced strength and mass causing it and him to topple over, smashing the statue into pieces and powder on the marble floor.

A flash of light filled the room as Starman leaped into the air, hovering over the scene with his cosmic rod blazing at full force.

“Ted, look out!”

The cry came from Hourman. From his vantage on the floor, he had seen the streak of light careening towards them from the second storey balcony. Like a comet, it shot across the across the vast Hall, straight towards Starman!

The impact was blinding. Ted Knight had managed to throw up a shield of energy just in time, but it shattered as the man-shaped streak of dark-limned light collided with him. Those below were forced to cover their eyes, Starman’s anguished cry heard over the concussion. The hero fell out of the air, hitting a wall and sliding down, senseless.

“My god,” Wildcat gasped, blinking to clear his vision. “Was that the Ray?”

“Not the Ray you know, old man!”

Wildcat was hit faster and harder than he ever had been before. It spun him around in place, but he refused to fall, throwing his hands out to steady himself. He didn’t recognize the female voice, nor had he seen much more than a blur. Before he could recover, there was a rush of wind and suddenly he was caught up under the solar plexus by someone running faster than humanly possible, propelling him with her. He barely had time to glimpse a shapely rear-end before the forward motion was arrested, the momentum carrying him forward to slam into a glass display case. He was cut in a dozen places, and lay dazed amidst an assortment of Hawkman’s old masks, but managed to raise his head to his attacker. She had a Veronica Lake hair cut, yellow goggles, and wore a red and yellow costume that reminded him of his old friend Johnny Quick’s. In fact, she looked a lot like Johnny’s wife, Libby--- Liberty Belle…

“What the hell, lady---?”

She reached down and grabbed him up by the front of his costume.

“Call me Cyclone, Gramps.” She sneered at him, her face close to his. “And not only am I a lot stronger than you, but thanks to the Speed Formula I can also run circles around you. I can hit you a hundred times before you feel the first blow!”

Groggy but unruffled, Wildcat chuckled softly.

“Kid, are you flirtin’ with me…?”

“Who are you?” Green Lantern pressed forward against his younger opponent, sweat pouring off his brow. But his experience and long command of the Starheart energies seemed to give him the advantage over her, and she stumbled away, giving ground.

“We are who you should have been!” The green-skinned girl spat back. “The JSA is weak and corrupt, and utterly misguided. You could have led the world into a shining new age, but instead you allowed it to fall into squalor. We are the Infinitors, and we are here to redeem the sins of the fathers!”

With that, she summoned a well of power deep within the core of her very being and broke through Alan’s own green wall, hurling him backward!

Above the din of a battle that was all but over, came the laughter of Per Degaton. Wildcat dangled limply from Cyclone’s grasp, Hourman lifted his head from the wreckage of a display case Atomika had knocked him into, and Green Lantern was on his knees before the green-skinned girl. Only Starman and Sandman were still on their feet, facing the Ray.

But with the arrival of Degaton, the Infinitors turned as one towards the second storey balcony from which he had emerged, and saluted him with arms outstretched, and their voices arose in a mighty cry: “Hail, Degaton!”

The battered and bruised members of the JSA stared up at their old enemy. He glared malevolently down upon them, triumph in his eyes. Before him, he held a squirming, frightened old woman: the curator of the JSA Museum, and their old friend, Abigail Matilda “Ma” Hunkel.

“At last we come to it.” Degaton called down to them, his harsh voice the only sound in the hall. “The final fate of the JSA!”

“You’ll never win, Degaton.” Green Lantern spat back at him. “You could kill every single one of us, but someone will always rise up to stop you.”

Degaton’s mocking laughter came back at him.

“Kill you? I’m not merely going to kill you, Green Lantern, I’m going to annihilate you, and all you stand for!” The madman held up one clenched fist, the leather of his glove squeaking in protest. “This is the nexus, the weak-point! From here, I will enter the time-stream and wipe you all from existence--- every one of you masked mystery men and women, but especially the JSA. You will have never existed! And without your exploits to inspire others, no other heroes will arise to stand in my way!”

For a moment, Degaton basked in that statement and his Infinitors looked smug. But Starman, his analytical mind racing, and remembering what Sandman had said, was putting certain facts together.

“Wait!” He stepped forward a pace, but lowered his cosmic rod as to not appear threatening. “Before you kill us,” He pointed to Cyclone, still holding Wildcat by the front of his costume. “Is she the daughter of Johnny Quick and Liberty Belle?”

The look on Degaton’s face grew even more triumphant, and he nodded.

“Look upon my Infinitors and despair, heroes. Let your last thoughts be that your legacies belong to Degaton! She is Cyclone, daughter to Johnny Quick and Liberty Belle. There is Bulleteer, the daughter of Bulletman and Bulletgirl. The Ray inherited his father’s powers, as did my dear Atomika--- the Atom’s daughter. As for Obsidian and Jade, well, say hello to your own son and daughter, Green Lantern!”

The news hit Alan Scott like a physical blow. With a stricken expression, he stared up at Jade, wondering how this could be true.

But Ted Knight had already guessed much of this. And this time he spoke directly to the Infinitors, not even bothering to look up at Degaton.

“Don’t you see what that means?” He implored them. “If he wins here today, if he does what he is threatening to do--- wipe us all out of existence!--- then you will all cease to exist, too!” His words echoed in the hall, and Degaton’s expression had gone stone-cold. Starman continued. “You are the children of the heroes of yesterday. If we never existed, then neither will you!”

As one, the Infinitor’s frowned, and turned towards Degaton, confusion writ on their faces. Cyclone absently released Wildcat, who staggered backward, rubbing his neck.

“Is… Is this true, Father?” Atomika spoke for them all, doubt in her voice.

Degaton’s lips curled in a vicious sneer.

“What did I tell you?” His voice was pitched low and dripping with disdain. “Did I not tell you they would try to trick you? That they would use lies and deceit to win you away from me…?”

Atomika flinched and lowered her head in shame.

“Of course it is not true!” Degaton growled. “I am the master of the Chronocalculus! I will always protect you, my Infinitors! You are the stormtroopers of my Everlasting Reich!”

And that seemed to be enough for the Infinitors. Their faces took on the look of firm resolve, and Atomika appeared not only chastened, but furious.

“Now, my children, kill them! Kill the JSA!” Degaton cried, spittle flying from his mouth.

As one, the Infinitors turned back to their foes, ready to deliver the final blows.

<Not today, villain, and certainly not by your hand!>

Light flared in the hall again as an ankh-shaped portal opened up in the middle of the room. From it leaped the Flash, Hawkman, Wonder Woman and Dr. Fate!

The Ray blasted full-force at Starman and Sandman, but this time Ted was ready for him. Two-handed, Starman aimed his cosmic rod at the son of his old friend and unleashed the full fury of the stars! The two opposing beams of light met and crackled at an equal distance between them, at first neither giving way.

“Like hell.” The normally unassuming Ted Knight growled, then sprang into the air unexpectedly. The Ray’s attack slammed into the wall where Ted had been, but before he could readjust, Starman was coming at him from above. The rays of the cosmic rod enveloped him, and he cried out, falling to his knees.

Disoriented, the Ray saw two booted feet approach him, a dark coat swirling around the ankles.

{Sleep…} Came a hollow, eerie voice and a green mist--- and Ray Terrill did just as the voice commanded.

Hawkman’s flail rang off of the gleaming metallic hide of Bulleteer as they passed each other like two quasi-medieval jousters. She ricocheted between the walls of the Great Hall, trying in vain to find an opening. But wherever she turned, the Winged Avenger was there, lashing out with the formidable spiked ball-and-chain.

Unlike Hawkman, who could remain airborne, Bulleteer had to be in constant motion to remain in flight. She perched atop a large-scale replica of the Perisphere--- the JSA’s wartime HQ--- that sat in the middle of the hall, crouched and taunted him.

“Give it up, Hawkman,” She spat at him. “This isn’t even your fight--- you’ve been dead for years!”

“Dead, huh?” Hawkman idly swung the spiked ball on its chain. “Not exactly a new experience for me, you know. I’ve died more times than just about anybody. And I certainly won’t let it keep me from helping my friends!” He dove for her with a fierce roar, and she rose to meet him.

They met in midair, and at the last moment, Hawkman adjusted his position, dropping his weapon and executing a roll, until he was on top of her, holding her in a full-nelson.

“What are you doing?” There was a panic in her voice as she struggled to pull away from him, flying in reckless zig-zags across the room.

“Unless I’m much mistaken, there are traces of Nth Metal in this shell,” Hawkman grunted, his mouth close to her ear. She wobbled, trying to shake him off, but to no avail. “I guess nobody ever told you I have a special relationship with Nth Metal…!”

As he spoke, Bulleteer felt the metallic shell that was her living flesh tingle and shiver--- and then, against her will, it was gone. And with it, her power of flight.

Their momentum carried them into the replica of the Perisphere, shattering the hollow globe. After a moment, Hawkman emerged, brushing off splinters, and pulling the unconscious--- and fully flesh and blood--- Bulleteer with him.

Atomika reared back, her fist crackling, then swung with all her might. The punch exploded on impact against Wonder Woman’s bracelets, sending the Amazing Amazon sailing through the air, and skidding across the room.

Grappling with her had nearly done for Jo. She bent over, hands on her knees, her chest heaving to catch her breath. Wonder Woman was already climbing to her feet.

A noise behind her made her whirl around. There, arrayed against her, were Hourman, Starman, Wildcat and Hawkman.

The Ray was down, and so were Bulleteer and Obsidian. And while Cyclone was nowhere in sight, she could see that Green Lantern had managed to turn Jade… She seemed to be the only one left. But she was strong! Within her was the power to level cities. She was special, Degaton had always told her. Unique. His own super-soldier. In her hands, was the power of the atom… She could fight to the end if she had to…

From the corner of her eye, she saw him. Ducking out from the wreckage, Degaton dashed for the door, abandoning her…

“Father, no, wait!”

She took off after him, leaping over rubble and debris, dodging the grasp of the JSAers. He disappeared out the door, and Atomika followed.

EPILOGUE

In the ruins of the Grand Foyer of the JSA Museum they assembled, moments after the police had cuffed and driven away Degaton.

Ma Hunkel had already gone to work, directing teams of clean-up crews and fussing over the loss of priceless objects. Sanderson Hawkins and Wesley Dodds were talking quietly in a corner by themselves, neither willing to relinquish their handshake. The others were gathered around the remains of an old wooden table, the JSA emblem carved on the top. It was split down the middle, and mostly kindling.

“I think this was my fault.” Jo admitted, sheepishly.

Wonder Woman laughed, and rubbed her shoulder as if to work out a bruise. “Well, you did pick it up and throw it at me!”

There was general, gentle laughter, and Al hugged his embarrassed daughter for the hundredth time.

“It’s alright, kiddo,” Wildcat grumbled. “I think we’re going to need a bigger one, anyway.”

Nothing had been decided yet, but it was fairly obvious to all that the Infinitors were going to need more training and better mentors--- though the Spear had done much to wipe away most of Degaton’s brainwashing. They were not going to be cut adrift in the 21st Century. They had families who were going to welcome them with open arms--- and they had one big family ready to teach them to be heroes.

But as much as this felt like a new beginning, it was a time for goodbyes, as well. Dr. Fate announced that he had to return Hawkman, Wonder Woman and the Flash to their proper era, or risk permanent damage to the time-stream.

There were swallowed tears and tight embraces, and Wonder Woman surprised Wildcat with a lingering, passionate kiss. There was a catch in the Champ’s voice when he said goodbye, and he turned away, angrily kicking the ruins of a display case.

Jesse Chambers caught Jay Garrick up in a fierce hug, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about what I said before.” She whispered to him. “I didn’t mean---.”

He cut her off with a “Shhh! There’s no need. Just make me proud.”

He held her at arms length, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and chucked her chin. Then he turned to go. In her heart, Jesse Chambers made a promise she would keep for all of her life.

Dr. Fate had opened a swirling portal of light, and beckoned the trio of heroes to pass through it.

<This is not farewell, my friends, for you will live in our hearts and minds forever.> The sorcerer intoned. <Though you will not recall this adventure when you return to those dark days of 1942, the memory of this victory will resound for all eternity.>

Hawkman nodded, and looked back before stepping through. “Keeping fighting the good fight, my friends.”

“Always.” Alan Scott spoke for all of them--- then, with a final salute, the Winged Avenger was gone through the portal.

Hippolyta gave them a smile that opened any windows of joy still locked away in their hearts, blew them all a kiss, and followed Hawkman.

Only the Flash remained--- and for a moment, the sight of him wavered, as if he were already fading from the present time. But that was only for a second, and most of them chalked it up to the bad lighting, or the tears clouding their vision. The honest, handsome face of Jay Garrick smiled and he waved one last time--- then he was gone, too, and Dr.Fate’s portal closed behind him.

For a moment no one spoke; the room was thick with emotion. Al and Jo clung together, and Jade held her father’s hand. Obsidian stood nearby, not yet comfortable enough to approach Green Lantern, but basking in the older man’s warm smile of pride. Starman clapped Ray Terrill on the back. Dinah had taken Cyclone and Bulleteer under her wing, and had one arm around each. Dr. Fate, Hourman, Sandman, Wildcat and Charles McNider stood together in a companionable silence, as if recalling old times--- or looking forward to better ones.

“Well,” It was Alan who finally broke the silence, unashamedly wiping his moist cheeks. “There’s quite a mess here. What do you all say about giving Ma and her crew a hand for a while? After all, this is our museum, and we are going to need a new HQ…”