Post by David on Jul 1, 2008 21:47:21 GMT -5
Seven Soldiers of Victory
Issue #3: "Gone But Not Forgotten, Part 3 (of 5)”
Written by: Susan Hillwig
Cover by: Craig Cermak
Edited by: David Charlton
Issue #3: "Gone But Not Forgotten, Part 3 (of 5)”
Written by: Susan Hillwig
Cover by: Craig Cermak
Edited by: David Charlton
2008:
It was nearly an hour past dawn in Philadelphia, but you couldn’t tell that by looking up at the sky. The three of them had seen the darkness rolling in as they were about to enter Christ Church Burial Ground, and watched as it seemed to eat up what little light the rising sun was already providing, until the whole expanse was nothing more than a black void. Alan Scott, wearing his Green Lantern costume once more, had flown upwards to get a better idea of what exactly this was, but he soon came back down to Earth, his face rather pale. “I don’t know what it is,” he told the others, “but the closer I got, the worse I felt. It was like something was trying to suck the life right out of me.”
“Do you think it’s connected to what Daniel was talking about?” Jay Garrick asked as he gave his old friend a shoulder to lean on.
“If it is, then it certainly lends his story a little more credence, doesn’t it?” Beneath his Wildcat mask, Ted Grant’s expression soured. “I was more comfortable with this whole deal when I thought it was the kid’s imagination.”
“Too late to back out now,” Alan replied. He straightened up and approached the cemetery gates. “Still locked...hope the groundskeeper doesn’t mind us hopping the fence.” A green bubble surrounded the three heroes and carried them over the gate. “Okay, fan out and look for anything out of the ordinary. And keep your guard up: those things might still be in here somewhere.”
“I’ve got something already,” Ted said, and knelt down in the grass near the gate, picking up a torn piece of fabric. “Looks about the same color as Daniel’s coat. Didn’t he say that the Nebula Man tried to grab him?”
Alan nodded. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a smoking gun, but it does back up at least that portion of his story.”
Jay suddenly appeared next to them in a burst of super-speed. “There’s a bunch of strange claw-marks on the ground just over there,” he said, pointing further into the cemetery. “Plus I found what looks like a footprint near one of the mausoleums, but it definitely wasn’t made by a human foot.”
“So, is the gun smoking yet?” Ted asked, looking at Alan.
The Green Lantern ignored him and cast his eyes about the cemetery, saying under his breath, “But why here? Why now? It’s been sixty years...where the Hell has this thing been all this time?”
A voice from above replied, <That question weighs upon us as well, Alan Scott.> The three older heroes looked up to see Doctor Fate descending into the cemetery flanked by Superman and Katar Hol, with Batman and Hal Jordan following close behind in a green sphere produced by the younger Lantern’s power ring. The newcomers touched down, and Fate said, <I am surprised to find you three here. Has the Justice Society been attacked by Neh Buh Lah as well?>
“Far from it,” Alan told him. “Daniel came by here last night as he always does this time of year, and he almost got killed because of it.” He shook his head. “So I guess that settles it: the Nebula Man really has come back.”
“‘Nebula Man’?” Superman echoed.
“That’s what Daniel and the other Soldiers used to call that demon or whatever it is. Guess they misheard the name the first time out...thought it was all one word.”
“Wait a minute, Alan,” Hal said. “Fate told us all of the Seven Soldiers were dead. If that’s the case, who’s this Daniel guy you keep mentioning?”
“Daniel Leong was the Vigilante’s sidekick,” Jay explained. “Vig picked him up a couple years after the Soldiers got together, and he kind of became the team mascot. I remember some of the guys used to call him ‘the eighth Soldier’.”
“Perhaps he’s the reason why Fate’s superiors keep saying that the Seven Soldiers are still alive,” Katar said. “Maybe they meant only one is, and he’s all we need to stop this creature.”
“I sure as Hell hope not.” Ted waved a hand at his companions, saying, “Daniel ain’t as spry as us, mind you. He was just a kid when all this went down, but he’s about seventy-five now...and I mean a normal seventy-five, not Chrono-bombed or magically young or any of that other nonsense us mystery men always manage to luck into. Plus he’s over at the hospital recovering from getting smacked by a damn car, so we should leave him out of this if we can.”
<I do believe we will need the help of Daniel Leong, if only for a moment.> Fate had stepped away from the group and was moving slowly towards the center of the cemetery. His palms of his hands were turned upwards, and a steady golden glow emanated from them. <There is a great deal of chaotic energy emanating from this place, which I expected due to the battle fought here, but there is another layer of energy mixed in...cosmic energy.>
“I presume by your tone that Neh Buh Lah is the source of the first energy, but not the second,” Batman said, walking over to where Fate stood. “If that’s the case, where does the second energy signature come from?”
Jay snapped his fingers, and a split-second later, he was also standing next to Fate, saying, “It’s from Sylvester’s converter belt! Pat modeled it after Ted Knight’s cosmic rod -- it worked a bit differently, but the principles were basically the same.”
“So the belt’s still somewhere in the cemetery?” Batman asked.
<Not the belt,> Fate corrected him, <only the energy, though it seems to have decayed over the past sixty years. Judging by what remains, however, I would say that a massive amount of it had been released during the battle...more than I would think the Star-Spangled Kid’s device was capable of producing under normal circumstances.>
“We’re talking about seven divinely-chosen people fighting an unearthly evil from out of prehistory,” Hal quipped. “I don’t think the word ‘normal’ still applies here.”
<Nevertheless, we have an anomaly, one which I believe holds the answer we seek.> Fate turned to Alan Scott and said, <I must speak with Daniel Leong about the original incident. He is the only witness we have to what occurred here all those years ago, and I need him to confirm my suspicions.>
Alan sighed. “Personally, I agree with Ted about leaving Daniel out of this...but you’re right, he is the only one who actually saw the whole thing. I’m coming with you, though, just to keep him calm.”
“I think Batman and I should come, as well,” Superman added. “Like it or not, the League is wrapped up in this mess now.”
Doctor Fate gave a nod, then said, <Very well, but we must hurry. The longer we delay, the stronger Neh Buh Lah becomes.>
* * * * * * *
“Why aren’t they back yet?”
Speed looked up from the magazine he was pretending to read -- he’d been on the same page for a half-hour, staring at a shampoo ad and trying not to think about the unnatural darkness that was blotting out the sky over the hospital. “They’ll be back, don’t worry,” he told Daniel. “These things take time, you know.”
“I know, it’s just...I’m scared.” Daniel was sitting up in bed, watching both medical staff and civilians pass by the open door to his room. His son had purchased him a pair of reading glasses from the hospital gift stop as a substitute for his busted pair, so he could clearly see the near-panic on people’s faces as they hurried past. From what the two of them had heard, this darkness had not only blotted out the sunlight, but satellite communications had gone completely wonky as well -- it seemed the entire Earth was cut off from anything beyond the upper atmosphere. That hadn’t stopped Victor from stepping out to try his cell phone outside, desperate to call his family back in New York. “I keep thinking that...that the Nebula Man got them,” Daniel continued, a panic of his own growing in his eyes. “I keep thinking I sent them into a trap.”
“We still don’t know for sure if that’s what this is,” Speed answered. “There are other possibilities.”
“Name one.”
“Well...maybe we got lucky, and it’s just Darkseid invading again.” It was a poor attempt at humor, but Speed had to try. Ever since the darkness started to spread over the city, Daniel had acted like he was personally responsible for it. That was they way it had been ever since Greg and the others had died: the trauma of it had saddled the boy with a horrid case of survivor’s guilt, and though it had lessened as the event receded into the past and he grew older, there were still times (like now) when he would blame himself for things that he had absolutely no control over. Speed half-hoped that it was Darkseid, because he was afraid of how Daniel would react if the Nebula Man had truly returned.
Suddenly, the lights in the room began to flicker, and Speed nearly jumped out of his chair as the door slammed shut. Great, now what’s going on? he thought, then an intense glow appeared at the foot of Daniel’s bed, spreading out until they saw Alan Scott and Doctor Fate materialize in the room, accompanied by Superman and Batman. That Alan had called up Fate wasn’t a surprise, but the two Justice Leaguers definitely caught Speed off-guard. Composing himself, he looked at his old friends and said, “I take it you’re not delivering good news?”
<That remains to be seen, Cyril Saunders,> Fate replied, then focused on Daniel. <Events have transpired that require us to briefly disturb your rest, in the hope that you possess the knowledge that may clear up the mystery before us.>
“Mystery?” Daniel sat up a little straighter in bed, looking from the older to the younger heroes. “You mean you still don’t know what’s happening out there?”
Superman glanced at Fate, then said, “We know the ‘what’, but the ‘how’ is still a bit muddy. Doctor Fate believes you might be able to help with that part, Mr. Leong.”
“We need you to tell us exactly what happened that night sixty years ago, at Christ Church Burial Ground,” Alan added. “We need to know every detail of what occurred during the Seven Solders’ last battle with the Nebula Man.”
Daniel paled, his hands knotting up in the bed sheets. “I was right, then,” he said quietly, “he did come back.”
Speed got up and put a comforting hand on Daniel’s shoulder, all the while glaring at the Green Lantern. “Dammit, Alan, you should know better than to make him dredge up memories of that.”
Batman shot Speed a glare of his own, saying, “We don’t have any time for niceties. The clock is ticking, and if we don’t act fast, it’s going to blow up in our faces.”
“It’s...it’s okay, Uncle Speed.” Daniel slowly reached up and removed the elder man’s hand, then looked solemnly at the heroes before him -- he was still pale, but there was a determined set to his jaw, as if steeling himself for a task he dreaded. “Maybe I couldn’t do anything to stop the Nebula Man from killing my friends, but if I can do something now...then maybe it’ll help make up for failing last time.” His gaze went towards the window for a moment -- the curtains had been drawn shut, but he didn’t need them to be open to know what lay outside -- then the man who had once gone by the nickname Stuff told them, “The whole thing came out of nowhere, really. The War had been over for almost three years by then, and the Soldiers had kind of drifted apart. We all had other things going on in our lives: Greg and I would sometimes spend a few months in Hollywood while he did a movie, Lee still had a newspaper to run, Sylvester was getting a business degree at Yale...there just wasn’t time to get together like we used to.” He smiled and said, “I remember going to Justin and Danette’s wedding a couple months after V-J Day...that was probably the last time all of us had been in the same room together.
“Then in early ’48, Tom called all of us out of the blue, saying we had to get to Philadelphia ASAP. He’d been working on a missing-persons case when he stumbled across a rumor about a man amassing a secret army...a man who matched the description of the Iron Hand. He’d hoped it was only a rumor, but it didn’t take long to find evidence to support it, so the call went out, and we all rushed to Philadelphia. Greg wasn’t so sure about bringing me along, but I talked him into it -- I figured it couldn’t be as bad as he was making it out to be. It didn’t take long for me to learn how wrong I was.” Daniel paused, a sick look on his face, then said, “When we raided the Iron Hand’s new lair, we found a charnel house. We were too late this time: they’d finished the ceremony already, and summoned up the seven demons that made up the Nebula Man...who then slaughtered everyone in the chamber, the Iron Hand included. It wasn’t too hard to pick up on the trail of carnage they left behind, and we spent the night chasing them throughout the city, trying to stop them, or at least contain them. Then a few hours before dawn, we thought we’d cornered them in Christ Church Burial Ground, but we were wrong: the demons had just been biding their time until they could join together.
“And that’s when the real fight started.”
* * * * * * *
1948:
“Don’t let up on him!” Spider perched atop one of the tombs and set his feet, readying a concussive “stinger” arrow. It was his last one, and the others he’d let loose had no effect on their target. Not surprising, he thought, they must feel like mosquito bites to the thing. But he couldn’t let thoughts like that stop him, and he took aim at the 20-foot creature’s head. The stinger flew straight into the white void that was its right eye, and while it let out a howl that shook the headstones around them, it didn’t appear to have suffered permanent damage. It did, however, turn its attention on Spider, who was notching one of his standard razor-sharp arrows, futile as it would be.
As the Nebula Man reached out for him, a bright streak of red, white, and blue slammed into the back of its pitch-black head, while a rope encircled its outstretched hand. “You got a good hold on him, Vig?” Star-Spangled Kid called out as he administered another blow to the creature.
“So long as this lariat holds and I don’t run out of gas, I reckon I’ll be doin’ just fine!” The rope lashed tight to the handlebars of his motorcycle, the Vigilante opened up the throttle and tried to pull the giant to the ground with pure horsepower. The tires spun and kicked up sod, but no progress was made. “C’mon, ugly, cooperate and fall over already!”
In response, the Nebula Man yanked its arm back, sending the cowboy and his iron horse flying like a kid swinging a yoyo. The rope snapped and the bike landed on a bare patch of cemetery grass, but Vig collided with one of the grave markers and went down in a heap. Crimson Avenger, who was standing nearby, rushed to his side. “Are you all right, Saunders?” he asked as he knelt down, his red cloak partly obscuring them from the battle.
“Sure...just like fallin’ onto a pile of feather pillows...” Vigilante groaned, then waved his fellow masked man away from him. “Never mind me, go fill that owlhoot full of lead.”
“Gladly.” Crimson went to get up, then sagged back to his knees, his face suddenly pale and a hand clutching the small of his back. Vig hadn’t seen his friend take any major blows during the battle, so he couldn’t fathom what was wrong. He was about to ask when Crimson forced himself to his feet, muttering under his breath, “Not now...can’t let it stop me now,” then returned to the battle, his twin automatic Colts blazing away at the monster.
From above, Star-Spangled Kid continued to rain down blows on the Nebula Man, while Firebrand poured on a little heat of her own. Shining Knight flew about below them on Winged Victory, taking swipes at the creature’s legs and midsection in an attempt to force it to the ground -- his enchanted sword appeared to be penetrating the creature’s defenses, and it began to hunch over, apparently in defeat. “That’s it, we’ve got him on the ropes!” the Kid said, and flew down to deliver another punch...only to be knocked for a loop as the Nebula Man suddenly reared up, spewing forth from its mouth hundreds of miniature versions of itself, each about three feet tall and all with sharp claws and needle-like teeth. They swarmed down on the Soldiers, all except Star-Spangled Kid, who found himself caught up in the grip of the Nebula Man's enormous ebony fist, his ribs snapping under the pressure as the breath was slowly squeezed out of his lungs.
Stripe tried to fight his way through the little gremlins, batting them aside with his fists and barely noting the blood welling up from the wounds they inflicted. All his attention was focused on Sylvester as the young man struggled to escape from their foe. Shining Knight had changed tactics, hacking away at the Nebula Man’s arm in the hopes that he could force the monster to drop his fellow Soldier. Meanwhile, Firebrand was carpeting the cemetery with flames in an effort to incinerate the miniature threats, with Spider and Crimson Avenger using their respective weapons to pick off any that escaped her attention.
Despite their efforts, a few managed to slip past all the heroes and make a beeline to the still-groggy Vigilante, who was struggling to get to his feet, his right arm dangling at his side -- he’d nearly wrenched it out of the socket when he went flying off his cycle, and running into a solid slab of granite upon landing certainly hadn’t helped matters. Despite the pain, though, the cowboy saw the things coming and drew one of his Peacemakers with his good hand. The bullets tore through them, causing them to shriek and fall to ash when they took too much damage, but he didn’t have enough ammunition in his cylinder to take down all of the creatures. A lone survivor closed in on him, running on all fours and gnashing its teeth like a rabid monkey, then made to leap at Vig...and caught a shovel in the face. It flew back and slammed into a tombstone, but that didn’t deter it for long: it jumped at the newcomer, who continued to bash it with the shovel until Vigilante swapped guns and unloaded a couple more bullets into the pint-sized nightmare, reducing it to ash like its brethren. The task complete, he turned to his rescuer and snapped, “Dammit, Stuff, didn’t I tell you to take cover?”
Daniel stood there, shovel still at the ready, and replied, “I did take cover...then I saw you go down like a sack of potatoes, so I decided to lend a hand. Isn’t that what sidekicks are supposed to do?”
“Any other time, I’d agree with you, but right now, I’d feel a lot better knowin’ y’all was out of the line of fire.” He began to reload his pistols, but his injured arm wasn’t making the task very easy. Without a word, Daniel took the weapons from his mentor and reloaded them in record time, just as Greg had taught him, then handed them back. “Okay, maybe there’s still a use for you ‘round here,” Vig muttered, and gave the teenager one of the pistols. “Stay close to me, and follow my lead. Don’t try nothin’ fancy without my say-so.”
“Yessir.” The two of them rushed back into the fray, joining the others as they continued to throw everything they had at the monster. While they still couldn’t bring it down, they did manage to make it release Star-Spangled Kid, who fell limp as a rag doll to the ground. Stripe and Crimson rushed over to him as the others provided cover, all of them hoping that the young man was still alive, but before they could pull him to safety, the Nebula Man raised its hands, and dozens of headstones suddenly ripped loose from the earth and rained down upon the Soldiers.
“Foul beast!” Sir Justin cried out. “Have thee no sense of honor?” He flew straight at the Nebula Man’s head, slashing at its eyes with his sword. In return, it batted the knight and his mount aside as if he were nothing more than a fly. Firebrand came to her husband’s defense immediately, throwing one fireball after another at its maw, until she began to drop herself from exhaustion, the flames that constantly encircled her dimming and sputtering. Luckily, Shining Knight was able to sweep low and catch her, then carried her over to a nearby mausoleum that their comrades had taken refuge behind.
Spider let arrow after arrow fly from behind the marble walls, while Crimson Avenger, Vigilante, and Stuff flanked him with their own weapons, all in an effort to keep the monster at bay while Stripe made sure Star-Spangled Kid was all right. The young man’s face was pale beneath his mask as Stripe pulled it off of him. “Can you hear me, Sylvester? C’mon, say something.” He lightly slapped his partner’s cheek, trying to get some sort of response out of him. “Dammit, Kid, you’re scaring me here...”
“I hate to say this, folks,” Spider called out, “but we might want to start thinking about a retreat. We’re almost out of ammo here.”
Shining Knight bristled at the notion, saying, “We are the only thing keeping the Nebula Man from attacking the city. If we turn back now, the demon’s attention will surely fall there, and the deaths of countless innocents will be upon our heads.”
“But we can’t fight a battle empty-handed, either!” The archer turned towards him, jerking a thumb at the quiver on his back. “I’ve got four arrows left, their guns are almost dry, and your wife looks like she’s about to fall off her pins! At this rate, it won’t matter if we retreat or not, because we’ll all be dead!”
The knight was about to spit back a rather venomous reply, but Firebrand put a hand on his chest and looked up at him. “Justin...he’s right. We need to get out of here, call in the Justice Society before...” Her words were cut off by a cry of warning from Vigilante as the Nebula Man smashed its fist into the mausoleum, scattering chunks of stone everywhere. The majority of the structure held, but it was obvious that it wouldn’t be able to stand up to many more blows like that.
“We’re going to have to make a decision here, and fast,” Crimson said, nearly shouting to be heard over the Nebula Man’s bellows. “At least one of us is going to have to make a break for it so we can get word to the JSA. In the meantime, the rest of us will lay into this monster and keep it distracted until our runner gets away clean.”
“Question is,” Vig added, “do we got enough sand left in us to distract it that well? The thing ain’t lost sight of one of us durin’ the whole fight.”
“Then maybe...we n-need...a bigger distraction...” They looked over to where Star-Spangled Kid was propped up against the side of the mausoleum. The young man had regained consciousness, but judging by the shakiness of his voice, he still wasn’t doing well. He tapped a finger against his cosmic converter belt, saying, “There’s enough raw power in here to...to take out a city block. We could rig it...m-m-make it blow up...”
Stripe’s eyes widened. “Kid, that’s crazy.”
“You...you designed the thing, Pat. You know it’ll work.”
No one said a word. What the Kid had suggested was tantamount to suicide, but it stood a better chance of working than anything else they’d thrown at the Nebula Man that night. The seven heroes looked at each other, as if taking in one another’s thoughts simply by looking into their eyes, and within each one they saw reflected a memory from seven years ago, of standing on a rooftop and swearing an oath...and without saying a word, they all knew what had to be done.
“How long will it take?” Crimson Avenger asked Stripe.
“Not long.” The man was already helping his young partner remove the belt. “The casing’s cracked, but I think the hardware inside’s okay.”
Crimson nodded, then he turned to Vigilante, who gave him a nod of his own. The cowboy reached over and plucked the Peacemaker out of Stuff’s hand, returning it to his holster, then said, “It’s time to go, son.”
Daniel blinked at his mentor. “Go? But we can’t just leave them here to...”
“I ain’t leavin’ ‘em...but you are.” More masonry flew overhead as their foe attempted to goad them out of hiding. Vig did his best to ignore it, instead putting his hands on Stuff’s shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. “You’re gonna be our runner, understand? When I give the word, you’re gonna take off like greased lightning and get as far from this place as you can. I don’t want y’all to stop ‘til you reach the goddam state line.”
The teenager stared at the other heroes, unable to believe what was happening. “No...no, I won’t go, you can’t make me...” He shook his head, trying with all his might to hold back tears.
“Stuff...Daniel, look at me,” Greg said softly, and pulled down the bandana covering his face. “Somebody’s gotta go, and you’re the only choice. The rest of us...long before you came into my life, me and the others made a promise. We promised that we’d do whatever it took to stop this thing, and now...now we’ve gotta live up to it. You weren’t there, so you ain’t got no obligation. We do.”
“You don’t have to die, you don’t...” He kept thinking of his grandfather, and of his parents...everyone he’d ever loved had died, and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. Now it was happening again: over the past five years, Greg had become a combination of big brother and father figure to him, and the other Soldiers were just as dear to Daniel as any family he’d ever had. There was no way he could just let them march off to their deaths like this. He threw his arms around Vig and buried his face in the man’s shoulder, begging him not to do this.
There was a click, then a low, mechanical whine, and Stripe said, “It’s ready. Once we activate it, we’ll have about ten seconds before it blows.”
Daniel tightened his grip at that, but Greg managed to pry him loose anyways. “C’mon, son, time’s a-wastin’,” he said.
He looked at his mentor with red eyes, sobbing, “I love you, Greg.”
“I love you too, son...you’re a good soldier, always have been.” He pushed back the boy’s ball cap and kissed him on the top of his forehead, then said, “Now run, faster’n you’ve ever run before.”
Stuff didn’t move, he felt anchored to the spot, and instead looked from the cowboy to the others in the group as they readied for the last charge. Star-Spangled Kid wobbled a little at he got to his feet, one hand clutching the belt and the other holding onto Stripe. Shining Knight and Firebrand exchanged kisses before he mounted Winged Victory once again. Spider nocked one of his last four arrows while Crimson Avenger checked his pistols. Vigilante pulled his bandana back into place, then turned away from Daniel, albeit slowly. With that silent gesture, the boy seemed to feel something sever between them, and he began to run towards the cemetery gates, legs pumping, breath racing in and out of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.
As he reached the gate, he took one quick glance over his shoulder. There they were, the Seven Soldiers of Victory, moving as one towards the Nebula Man as it roared at them, not one of them hesitating as they rushed headlong to their fate. Then he saw Star-Spangled Kid raise his arm, and Daniel knew what was coming. He pumped his legs ever faster, dashing into the street clogged with stopped cars and civilians who stood transfixed at the horrific battle they’d been witnessing inside Christ Church Burial Ground. He yelled at them to take cover as he ran past, diving over the hood of a car just as the area behind him suddenly blazed with light, followed by a muffled whump, like a depth charge going off. He chanced a look from behind the car, and saw a bizarre sight: a dome-like shockwave of energy engulfed the cemetery, black as pitch but illuminating the area like daylight. People screamed as it neared the perimeter of the cemetery, but then it began to retract until it became nothing more than a pinprick of ebony light hanging over the area, which soon winked out as if it had never been.
Sirens were approaching the area. Some people in the crowd were still screaming, unable to comprehend what they’d just seen, while others cautiously inched towards the gate. Stuff was among them, forgotten, just another bystander in the midst of chaos. He stared hard past the throng, hoping to catch a glimpse of his friends walking towards him, a little worse for wear but still alive, but he saw nothing of the sort. Every trace of both the Law’s Legionnaires and the Nebula Man had vanished. The headstones and debris of battle remained, but that was all: no bodies, not a shred of clothing, nothing.
Daniel Leong, “the eighth Soldier”, was the last one standing.
* * * * * * *
2008:
A deathly quiet filled the hospital room as Daniel paused to remove his glasses and wipe tears from his face -- though sixty years had passed, the memory of that day was still fresh in his mind. After a moment, he said, “I did just what they told me to do: I contacted the JSA, and they hotfooted it out to Philadelphia. Even though the Nebula Man was gone now, there was still a lot of cleanup to do, and they took care of it.” He swallowed hard, then said, “The worst part of it was covering up the truth. Not about the fight, there was no way to hide that, but about what happened to Greg and everybody else. We didn’t do back then like you guys do now, with these big funerals and the whole world shows up. Back then, if a hero died, we kept it quiet, and we made up a cover story...only this time, we had to do seven at once. We didn’t...we couldn’t even tell Sylvester’s parents what really happened to him, we just told them some story about him and Pat being in a plane crash and that there were no bodies recovered.” He paused again. “There were a lot of plane crashes that week.”
“I’m sorry we had to put you through this, Mr. Leong,” Superman said.
“No, it’s okay, really.” He slipped his glasses back on, saying, “I’ve never told anybody the whole thing before, not even to my own family. I should tell it, though, just so other people will know about it, and not forget them.”
Alan stepped over to the side of the bed opposite Speed and patted Daniel on the shoulder. “None of us have ever forgotten them, Dan, especially you. I think they’d be proud of the way you’ve honored them all these years.”
“Thanks...but I’d trade all that praise in a heartbeat if I could see them again.”
<You may get your wish, Daniel Leong.> Everyone turned to look at Doctor Fate, many of them with a rather surprised expression. <What you have told us has confirmed my suspicions, and unless I have miscalculated, there is a good chance that the Seven Soldiers of Victory are still alive.>
Speed was the first to recover his voice as he blurted out, “If they’re alive, then where in blazes have they been for the past sixty years?”
<We shall find out soon enough. But first, gentlemen, we must return to the cemetery.> He gestured to the three heroes, and they stepped close to the sorcerer once more as they prepared to leave.
“Wait a minute, I’m coming along,” Speed said, and stepped over to join them.
“Forget it,” Batman replied. “If those demons show up again, we’ll be busy enough without having to worry about a civilian in our midst.”
“‘Civilian’? Son, I was walking the Danger Trial while you were still crawling around your little cave wearing diapers.” He went over to stand next to Alan. “Besides, do you guys really think I’m gonna be able to sit still around here after Fate drops a bombshell like that?”
“Be careful, Uncle Speed.” Daniels’ expression had brightened a bit, there was still a note of worry in his voice. “Please...all of you be careful.”
“Don’t you worry about us. You just rest up and let us take care of things.” Speed flashed Daniel a grin as Doctor Fate began to weave the teleportation spell. After they had faded from view, Daniel settled back against the bed and looked towards the window once more, the curtains still drawn against the unnatural darkness outside.
“Dear Lord, let it be true,” he whispered. “Let them be alive...somewhere.”
* * * * * * *
<The key to all this is the cosmic energy,> Doctor Fate explained once they’d returned to the cemetery. <The forces that powered the Star-Spangled Kid’s belt are the same which shaped the universe itself, and when he unleashed all that power against Neh Buh Lah -- a creature made of pure chaotic energy -- the resulting explosion not only dispersed Neh Buh Lah’s essence, but it also briefly tore a hole in reality itself, pulling in the Seven Soldiers of Victory and scattering them across the timestream.>
“You mean all these years we thought they were dead, but instead they’ve just been lost in time?” Ted asked.
“It certainly sounds that way,” Superman said. “The question now is: how do we get them back to the present?”
<Once again, the cosmic energy comes into play.> Fate raised his hands and a white glow spilled from them, spreading out over the cemetery. In its wake appeared tiny pinpricks of light, some floating free like dust motes, others clumping together in larger ribbon-like waves. The highest concentration of them formed a massive humanoid figure twisted out of shape, like it was being torn apart. Around it were seven human-sized figures, one of whom appeared to be astride a winged horse.
“Oh my God,” Jay breathed. He and the other older men present stared in disbelief as the pinpricks of light coalesced into the faces of people they hadn’t seen in six decades. Jay reached out to touch one that bore striking resemblance to Stripe, but his hand passed right through. “It’s like seeing a ghost.”
<What you see is the final moment of battle, before they were pulled into the timestream,> Fate told them. <The surge of cosmic energy left an imprint, if you will, upon reality, and though much of it has decayed, enough remains that I can use it to track where each of the Soldiers ended up...but not enough for me to pinpoint each individual person and pull them back into our time. I can, however, send someone to each of the proper time periods to retrieve them.>
Hal glanced at the other heroes around him, then said, “Well, I’d consider it lucky that you happen to have seven people here that are more than willing to give it a shot.”
“What about me?” Speed said. “You League guys don’t even know them, but they were friends of mine. I want to help out too.”
“That may be so,” Katar replied, “but we have no idea where or when your friends are, or if this will even work.” In a lower tone, he added, “And I know that Kendra would surely skin me alive if I let any harm befall her grandfather.”
“She can get feisty, can’t she?” Speed looked the younger heroes over, as if judging them, and said, “I guess I can step aside and let you boys go at it. Just promise me that you’ll bring them all back in one piece.”
“You have our word, sir.” Superman looked to Doctor Fate. “What do you need us to do?”
<At the moment, nothing.> The sorcerer’s hands had begun to glow again, this time the white light taking on swirling veins of ebony. <I first need to trace each of the Soldier’s paths through time. As I find them, I shall then send one of you down that path to wherever it ends -- hopefully, you should each arrive not long after they did, and have little trouble finding them. Once you do, you must return to the point at which you materialized, and you will find a portal there which shall bring you back here. But I must warn you: the portal will only open if both of you are present. If you cannot find your target, you will be just as lost in time as they are.>
“Well, glad to know there’s no pressure,” Ted muttered.
Fate seemed to tense, then he said, <I have them. Please, stand perfectly still while I perform the final spells.> The images around the cemetery faded as Fate drew in the ambient cosmic energy, shaping it to suit his needs.
<First comes the Shining Knight,> Fate said as he gestured to Katar, who soon found himself engulfed in a strange black light. Within seconds, he had vanished.
<Now the Spider.> Ted’s costume seemed to take on an ever deeper shade of black as the light moved over him, then he was gone.
<For you, Firebrand.> Now it was Batman’s turn to disappear.
<And for you, the Crimson Avenger.> Hal’s ever-present green glow was quickly swallowed by black.
<The Star-Spangled Kid.> Fate chose Superman this time, and the Man of Steel vanished just as easily as the rest, then he turned to Alan, saying, <As well as his partner, Stripe.> The elder Lantern was gone now.
“Guess I know which one’s mine,” Jay said, looking over at Speed. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Greg back here faster than you can say...”
“Look out!” Speed pointed towards Doctor Fate, but it made no difference: clawed hands were already ripping at the sorcerer’s legs as the fractured aspects of Neh Buh Lah surfaced from the shadows below. Out of instinct, Jay dashed forward in a burst of super-speed to help, completely forgetting Fate’s earlier instructions. At the same moment, Fate cast the final part of the spell, but between Jay stepping out of place and the surprise attack, the spell went wild, striking Speed Saunders instead.
Jay took no notice of this, as he was far too busy trying to pull Doctor Fate free of his attackers. The seven creatures sank their teeth into both men, drawing blood and howling with delight over it. Disgusted, Jay let loose a flurry of super-fast punches, scattering the creatures across the cemetery. “Are you okay, Fate?” Jay asked as he helped the mystic to his feet. “Can you finish the spell?”
<It is already done.> He gestured to where Speed had been standing earlier. <It appears that Cyril Saunders got his chance to help...but I am not entirely sure if the path I sent him on will reach the Vigilante in time.>
“What’s that supposed to mean? Did you send him back to get Greg or not?”
<It is of little consequence now. We have far more pressing matters at hand.> Fate was looking over to where the creatures had landed: they writhed on the ground like snakes, their bodies twisting around each other in contortions no human could possibly duplicate, until it was impossible to tell where one creature ended and the other began. All the while, a chant spoken in an unholy tongue filled the air, rising in volume as the bodies themselves seemed to rise, their mass increasing at an alarming rate.
<Prepare yourself, Jay Garrick,> Fate said in a grave voice. <The Time of Rejoining has begun.>
TO BE CONTINUED!