Post by redsycorax on May 4, 2021 4:55:56 GMT
Earth-74 underwent a nuclear war in 1956 over Egypt and Hungary when, due to the premature death of Ike Eisenhower from cardiovascular problems, warmongering anti-communist President Richard Nixon provoked inexperienced new Soviet Premier Nikolai Khrushchev past the point of prudence. The United States enabled Israel to invade and subdue Egypt after the British and French forced their hand. Incensed, Khrushchev went past the point of no return in November 1956, fearing that the anti-communist rebellion in Hungary was the work of NATO subversion. It only took provocative brinksmanship with Soviet Air Force flights over NATO installations in Turkey, Soviet MiG-15 fighters sighted over Syria and Soviet naval manoveurs in the Dardanelles between the Seas of Marmora and the Aegean to send humanity over the brink. On November 5,1956, President Nixon panicked and ordered a nuclear first strike against the USSR. It is merciful that it took the Soviet Union and United States nearly a decade and a half after the end of the Second World War for computer and rocket technology to arrive at the point where intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) had become plausible. A related development was the shrinking of nuclear weaponry. At a lighter weight, nuclear weapons could be carried as warheads on lighter missiles propelled to higher speeds by faster engines. However, in other, calmer timelines, the ICBM was not developed and deployed definitively until 1959. "Fortunately", therefore, it was comparatively "limited" compared to others that suffered similar carnage in 1962, 1964, 1968, 1979, 1983 or 1990, from fragmentary postwar records.
Effectively, the war was a stalemate. Moscow and Washington were hit by aircraft-borne weapons, as were New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Denver, Cheyenne, Chicago, Detroit, Miami, Atlanta, Dallas, Houston, Austin, Kiev, Leningrad, Minsk, Vladivostok, London, Birmingham, Paris, Antwerp, Amsterdam, Manchester, Lyons, Marseilles, Rouen, Bonn, Rome, Venice, Milan, Tokyo, Osaka, Seoul, Pyongyang and Naples all disappeared in firestorms mushroom clouds. Although the United States had an estimated 2422 nuclear weapons, the United Kingdom had 14 and the USSR had only 200, the USSR derived some "benefit" from the panicked, hysterical response of Richard Nixon. Khrushchev and Nixon are both believed to have died in the chaos that had followed, as Air Force One was caught in the immolation of Washington and Khruschev and his Politbureau perished in their bunkers deep beneath Moscow. The blow shattered the combatant nations into fragments and decapitated their respective political leadership.
As for its metahumans, this much can be ascertained. Superman was able to deflect nuclear missiles from Metropolis and Gotham City across the bay, but the pollution and effluent from burning cities poisoned much of the Atlantic Ocean, leading to the starvation and asphyxiation of the inhabitants of Atlantis, including Aquaman, their king. As Star City was not a major target and not adjacent to a USAF airbase, Green Arrow and Speedy survived, however. Finally, and most tragically, Wonder Woman sacrificed her life trying in vain to save Washington DC from the Soviet Air Force bomber that destroyed it. Although she fought valiantly, the Amazon Princess, her love Colonel Steve Trevor and another two and a half million Washingtonians were obliterated from existence when a twenty kiloton bomb detonated above the White House. The remaining superheroes were shell shocked by what they had endured. Batman and Green Arrow were run ragged, trying to protect their cities from the collapse of central authority, vulnerability to radiation poisoning and the disruption of food distribution routes and medicine supplies. Superman abandoned his Clark Kent identity, married Lois Lane and evacuated most of his friends to his Fortress of Solitude. Thereafter, the Man of Steel was mostly restricted to Earth. Unfortunately, Coast City and Central City were adjacent to AFBs and consequently perished in the nuclear exchange and Ivy Town was similarly a city of scientific significance and moreover, too near Boston to survive. All of the above happened ten years ago. It is now 1966.
METROPOLIS:
Superman flew over the city, acheing inside. He watched as bodybags were thrown roughly into piles, the outcome of a bubonic plague infection that had particularly ravaged the city's infants and aged citizens. Most of the very old and young had perished from the postwar world, if they were unlucky enough to live in Northern Hemisphere nations afflicted by the Third World War. All the power at his disposal and he could do nothing, except hope that the pandemic would soon be over. Lex Luthor waved from atop a roof garden on one of the skyscrapers. That was one of the benefits of this ordeal that faced them all- his older rogues, such as the Prankster and Toyman, abandoned their criminal careers when the days of prewar excess, plenty and surplus had come screeching to a halt. But as for Luthor, Superman had been pleasantly surprised. In view of the struggle that now faced surviving humanity, his former archfoe had laid down his arms and had become a respected scientist, innovator and leading political figure. All trace of his former enmity against Superman had evaporated:
"Lex?"
"Superman, I've received some troubling news from Star City. They seem to be under siege. From a character called "The Black Clown."
Superman frowned: "Could that be Batman's old foe, the Joker, Lex?"
Luthor shook his head: "No. As far as we know, the Joker committed suicide when he burnt down Arkham Asylum. Batman identified the forensic traces. There was no doubt, judging from the chemical stains on his skin."
"Do you, or Batman, have any intel on this Black Clown criminal, then?"
"According to what we've pieced together, the Black Clown used to be known as one Harold Parrish, the proprietor of the Parrish Brothers Circus. When his own financial recklessness and mismanagement led to its closure, he was embittered after he failed to secure a bank loan. For a while, he fought individual members of the Justice Society like Dr Mid Nite, the Sandman and Black Canary, before disappearing from sight before the war. Then the JSA retired and disbanded after McCarthy's HUAC targeted them a few years ago. Given that criminal records were destroyed during the War, it's just as well we've managed to retrieve the local records from here, Keystone City and other surviving communities."
"That leaves a gap of a decade, Lex. Does anyone have any idea of what Parrish might have done in the interim?"
"We know that he broke out of Gotham Penitentiary during a forest fire alert which forced its evacuation, back in mid-November 1956. Batman would like this. Apparently, he's traded in heavily on his clowning past. He's turned himself into a charismatic leader, of sorts."
COULROS CITY:
With their disguise and grotesque appearance, as well as stylised behaviour, the clown had been an ambivalent figure of amusement and dread before the Third World War. Afterward, however, with the disappearance of networks of trade and transportation, large touring companies went defunct and the surviving clowns suffered the consequences of a specialised entertainment market in a suddenly emptier world. Many starved or died of preventative disease epidemics. Shamefully, in smaller and superstitious communities, they were often also persecuted as sorcerors or necromancers. In self-defense, many clowns banded together in nomadic enclaves of their own. As time went on, too, they lost their comic aspect and steadily darkened in moral tone and emphasis, capitalising on the dread, revulsion, ambiguity and fear their appearance inspired in such quarters. This made clown communities fertile ground for recruitment and seduction by Harry Parrish, the "Black Clown", whose rhetoric and shared occupational history appealed to his fellow transitional beings. And thus, clowns began to steadily lose their functions of amusement and entertainment, becoming instead dark gatekeepers and dread figures of retribution and mercenary violence.
Harry Parrish (the Black Clown) had survived the Third World War in style and now plotted to take over the ruins of the United States. He looked out over his encampment of followers and cracked his knuckles. Time to gather the flock together and prepare for the offensive against Star City and its hapless emerald clad archer. He looked forward to a summary trial for Green Arrow and stringing him up on the city walls.
KEYSTONE CITY:
"I'm getting damned tired of this job, these responsibilities, this weight on my shoulders, Jay. I'm getting tired of losing people we love, never staying in place long enough to build a successful relationship, settle down and have kids, never retiring. Are we ever going to be able to decisively change things?"
The Flash gripped his long time friend's shoulder: "Hey, I did with Joan. As for the kids angle, we decided not to. There's always the risk that one of our old enemies could track us down and kill us, especially in this world and in conscience, we couldn't expose any kids we might have to that. I know this isn't what any of us wanted, but it's the cards that we were dealt. Some of the younger heroes have it harder. It would've been great to have had a new generation of mystery men and women right about now to take over from us and take up the slack. But the war happened. At least, though, we were able to save Gotham and Keystone from Soviet attack. And we still have most of the old team with us...apart from Diana."
"When she died, Jay, I thought about giving it up altogether. She and Steve never got down to putting down the burden and then the Reds pulverised Washington and she died in the line of duty."
"I know, buddy, I miss her too."
"I mean, how long are we going to have to do this for? Until all of the JSA are dead, apart from us? The way things are going, that might not be long. Charles looks so old these days, from a decade of dealing with radiation poisoning deaths and exposing himself to risk defending the mutants from those who hate and revile them because of factors beyond their control. Even Al has aged, and he was the youngest of the old team. Hell, Jay, even the younger heroes that do exist are looking ravaged. I work with Batman quite regularly and he's only in his thirties- lines, wrinkles and grey hair."
And Alan Scott and Jay Garrick sat that night, whiskeys in hand, as Joan Garrick finished cleaning the tea items and put them away. After Alan left to fly back to Gotham, Joan gently kissed her husband:
"What is it?"
"I'm getting worried about him, sweetheart. He can't carry on like this, not indefinitely."
"You men, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."
"Not only men, darling. Diana was definitely a woman of courage, tenacity and achievement. Al's right, she and Steve didn't deserve to die that way. Have I ever told you how grateful I am for you being in my life, Mrs Garrick? Because if it wasn't for you, I'd give up in despair too." The Garricks embraced. Around them, Keystone was quiet, given that their speedster would be ready to keep them safe should hardship arise. Not the oldtime villains, because most of them had died in the apocalypse, had reformed or retired. Other cities weren't that lucky. High above Gotham, as Green Lantern neared the sprawling city, the distant sounds of machine gun fire, cries for help and the victims of cumulative radiation poisoning tore at his heart. He breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the Batmobile, Batman and Robin. He flew into sight, waving to the duo below.
GOTHAM:
"Hello, Bruce."
"Damn it, Kathy, I thought you'd-"
"What, so you can carry your responsibility alone, with Dick there? I mean, I'm sorry, but you boys can't keep on with this alone. Don't worry about me. And as to how I worked out you're Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, your facial features and bodies resemble each other more than you might want to think."
DOCTOR FATE'S TOWER:
"What is it, Kent?"
"Inza, I fear that one of the brave guardians of Gotham will not survive this night."
"Can't we call Superman-?"
Doctor Fate shook his head: "He is too busy working on that essential canal for the Californian survivors, I fear. Moreover, I know not at what time this tragedy will befall them."
GOTHAM:
Once, he was simply named "The Clown." There was a singular difficulty with this device, which was the fact that there were numerous mystery men and women who used the maquillage under which they hid their true identities for either good or evil. It took specific individuality to achieve renown or notoriety if one utilised this motif, hence the impression that the deceased Joker had made, or the contemporary threat that the Black Clown now posed on his own, long having since abandoned his Death Battalion comrades. He had fought the Flash and Green Lantern, but having survived the Third World War, and experiencing persecution due to his chosen mode of self-expression, he gravitated toward the Coulros settlement.
As Green Lantern alighted near Batwoman, Batman and Robin, their attention was drawn to the new intruder. Green Lantern frowned:
"Hey, the Flash told me about him. Lyle Corley. He used to be part of a circus act called the Flying Corleys, but the Flash had to intervene to stop a Keystone City power blackout so wasn't on hand to avert the tragedy when the trapeze that they'd used broke and they fell to their deaths."
Batman glanced at Robin, knowing the story would remind him of Boss Zucco and the murder of his parents. The teenage crime fighter called to him:
"Hey, Clown guy. Look, it happened to me, too. You don't have to do this. Give this up and we can-" Robin got no further as the malefactor threw a wooden spike, its end glistening with deadly poison, at the Green Lantern. Heedless of the risk to his own safety, the young hero somersaulted, kicking the stake out of the way. However, in doing so, the poison point scratched his leg. Abruptly, Robin's somersault became ataxic and jerky as he fell onto the pavement, heavily. Batman ran to his colleague's side, while Green Lantern and Batwoman closed in on the intruder. Grinning in insane malignance, Corley pressed what appeared to be a buzzer button on his hand. In reality, it was a suicide bomb strapped to him. Green Lantern protected the others from the impact, then turned to see Batman sobbing, gently cradling the lifeless body of the dead Boy Wonder, his sightless eyes catching them both. Batwoman, her own eyes brimming with tears, gently took Batman in her arms and rocked backward and forward with him.
Although Dick Grayson had only been fourteen when he was killed in the line of duty, the other surviving superheroes made an honour guard for his funeral, albeit in their civilian identities. Superman, Flash, Green Lantern and Batman carried the small coffin to its resting place near the battle-scarred remains of Wayne Manor, laying him to rest alongside Alfred Pennyworth's grave- the selfless, loving butler had perished of radiation poisoning shortly after the war. He had been sorely missed by Bruce and Dick- and now, Bruce was left to mourn on his own.
The day after, Bruce Wayne awoke on his own, running his hand through his hair. Looking in the mirror, he saw strands of grey and wrinkles on the side of his eyes where none had previously been. Stiffly, he arose, walking down the dusty corridor and almost called for Alfred, before his eyes fell on the gold-framed picture of his late retainer and he remembered. Walking into Dick's room, he went to the closet and took out his Robin uniform. In the woodland near the Batcave, he and Kathy had constructed a memorial pyre for Robin, to specifically remember and mourn who he had been. Feeling robotic, as if he were going through mere motions, he carried out a picnic hamper as Kathy, Superman and Lois waited. Placing the uniform silently atop the pyre, he gently strode forward and lit it. In a matter of minutes, the brittle, dry wood surged into flame and the fabric burnt as a second memorial service was held for the "Boy Wonder" who would now never have a chance to grow up. Later, that afternoon, Bruce walked past the portraits of Thomas and Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth and now, Dick Grayson, all shrouded in funereal black. A tear splashed down as Kathy Kane joined him and they clasped hands. Suddenly, around him, Bruce realised how cavernous and empty Wayne Manor felt, truly a mausoleum for a solemn creature of the night. On Dick's desk. he spotted a copy of the teenager's favourite heroic story- Robin Hood. That did it. He swallowed and sat on Dick's mattress, alongside Kathy:
"I should never have taken him on as my companion, Kathy."
"Bruce, don't blame yourself for any of this. Please. He was as driven as you were after Zucco murdered his parents."
"I know that. But I robbed him of his childhood."
"That doesn't sound like the Dick Grayson I knew, Robin the Boy Wonder, always wise-cracking, eager to play his part."
"All it took was one lousy minor wound to the leg and he was gone."
"It could have been either of you. My heart is broken too. It's just as well Bette died when Chicago went up. I miss her, of course, but at least she wasn't here to see what happened to Dick."
Ace the Bat Hound padded over and laid his head on Bruce's knee, whimpering softly: "I know, boy. I know."
As Green Lantern lifted his beer glass, Jay clinked his together with it:
"Do you think he'll be all right?"
"He's lucky. He's got Batwoman there alongside him. But...damn it, Jay, the boy was only fourteen. What a waste."
"Do you think we should reconvene the JSA, Al?"
Alan looked up and nodded: "Perhaps if we'd done this sooner..."
"It's just this world we live in, Al. All the more reason to overcome HUAC's vainglorious idiocy and take up the cudgels again."
"Are we ever going to retire, Jay? Are we ever going to have time? Look at Bruce. Look at how haggard and weathered he's getting. Hell... how we're all getting, except Superman."
Jay Garrick nodded: "All the radiation around, I guess. It's accelerating the ageing process. There'll be a lot more cancers around and the psychological stress isn't helping many of us."
1967:
In May 1967, Perry White died of respiratory complications and was buried in the Arctic permafrost. The other staff at the defunct Daily Planet had told him he shouldn't have smoked so much, but in this grim new time, there were insufficient hospital beds left for 'self-inflicted' conditions such as lung cancer. He was survived by his grieving wife, Alice and around him, the other employees of the great metropolitan newspaper. Jimmy Olsen's hairline was receding, and he almost felt for Lucy Lane's hand, but of course, the air stewardess had been in flight and about to land in New York when the Soviet fighter jet unleashed its grim fusillade. His fingers clasped empty air in the Arctic morning. He shoved them in his pocket, hoping no-one had noticed.
And in the inferno that was Star City, a single form twisted on the end of a rope, his arrow holster dropped on the ground, spilling out emerald arrows. Oliver Queen stared sightlessly at the fire and chaos around him, while in the wreck of the Arrowcar, Roy Harper's body was slumped over the jagged remains of its windscreen. Around them, grim figures pirouetted and cavorted, no longer signs of humour and amusement, but the transition to entropy and chaos. High atop the ruins of the Queen Tower, Harold Parrish helped himself to the proceeds of his brutality and raised a glass to his fellow inhabitants of the boundary between civilisation and chaos. For as Star City burnt around them that night, chaos had won.
1972:
Sixteen years after the Third World War, Batman was the next one to fall. While Batwoman and he had long since married, radiation poisoning had prevented any pregnancies and thus, they fought crime together for many years. However, prolonged exposure to radiation had its tragic effects, foreclosing the years that Batman had left to fight crime before becoming incapacitated. Every year, as Batman and Batwoman rode out the Batmobile together, his hair turned greyer, his eyes acquired more wrinkles and his face developed more lines in its forehead. At the same time, he started to wear contact lenses. Increasingly, he became reliant on a pharmaceutical store to artificially boost his flexibility and athleticism, delaying the natural processes of ageing. But in the harsh radioactive environment of post-apocalyptic Earth, radiation was omnipresent and lives were shortened by it. Even a Batman is not immortal.
One day, tackling the Riddler, he felt dizzy and collapsed. What would have been a mere fall had developed into something worse, given the paucity of medical treatment. Superman and Lois (now transformed into Superwoman due to a formula that gave Terran humans Kryptonian class abilities), Kathy, Green Lantern, the Flash, Joan Garrick and the rest of the Justice Society stood around the bed of the Caped Crusader, who had never expected to die in bed- or as soon as in his forties. Kathy held her husband's hand as his breathing gradually became fainter, until it was almost imperceptible, then it stopped altogether. Bruce Wayne, Batman, had passed away in his sleep. Kathy looked up: "From now on, I'll be carrying this on alone. After what happened to Dick, there won't be any more companions like Robin."
"I'll miss him, honey. We all will." Lois said as the Woman of Steel embraced her long-time friend.
"The rest of you might want to consider calling it a day, too."
Wildcat shook his head: "Nope, Al. We're in this for the duration. What happened to Bruce here was a damned shame, but if reduced life expectancy is a correlate of what we face now, so be it. Who are we to live any longer than ordinary folks in this situation?"
Black Canary nodded: "We take risks, Alan. We all know them. We won't flinch from them."
The Atom added his assent to the others: "We won't leave you in the lurch, ever."
"And Kathy? I hope the no sidekicks rule doesn't exclude comrades in arms." Mr Terrific said.
As the others filed out, Lois reached up to brush a tear from Clark's face:
"I know, darling. I'd feel the same way if it were you. And I know how long how your friendship lasted."
"I'm so damned lucky, Lois. So damned lucky to have you fighting alongside me, sharing my life."
Green Lantern interrupted their moment: "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid there's something you both need to see."
The urgency in Alan Scott's voice and the foreboding tone led both of them to run into the main dining room. What they saw made them swallow and turn away. Lois began to sob as her husband took her in her arms. There, on a mercifully monochrome screen, lay the twisted and broken body of Jimmy Olsen, his camera twisted around his throat, his head lying at an angle from his body, decapitated, the debris of his signal watch shattered alongside his hand. The sinister silhouette of the Black Clown smiled mirthlessly: "Let that be a lesson for you, Superman. No interference. Otherwise your spy here won't be the first of you to perish."
Lois and Superman held each other as their friend's coffin was laid to rest. They were the only ones left now. As he held her, Clark wondered what the future would bring...
1977:
"Meaning?"
"It's what we feared, Alan. The Justice Society represents an America that no longer exists. President Agnew of the Midwestern States has refused to allow us into their territory."
"So that's it, then? Wildcat and Atom died for nothing, trying to save their miserable necks?" Green Lantern blazed.
"Easy, Alan."
"I'm not sure I can do this anymore, Jay. It's been almost twenty years since the war. And instead of alien threats and mad scientists, we're fighting to keep a country together that doesn't want to be. Well, I've almost had it. It's been two decades of famine, civil war and plague. The more lives we try to save, the more their damned leadership seem to be intent on throwing them away. Every time we seem to be getting closer to becoming a country again, it all falls apart."
Batwoman said: "Because the weak and vulnerable need us to be there. It's what Dick gave his life for and what Bruce worked himself into an early grave for."
"I know that, Kathy. But the question is, do we do it here? Can we, anymore? How many more of us will have to die before we realise that we're running in place here, exhausting ourselves? Do we have to lose Terry and Dinah as well? Perhaps Charles had the right idea, retiring so that his medical career could take priority."
Terry Sloane cleared his throat: "That's a valid observation to make, Alan. I understand. I can't keep up this facade, the illusion that our heroics are making a difference. I'm quitting, hanging up the mask. Fair play needs to be fought for in other arenas."
Dinah embraced him: "I'll miss you, you big lug."
"Dinah, you don't have to stay-"
"Since I lost Larry to cancer, I don't have anywhere else to go. Because I still believe in what the JSA stands for. And I always will. I'm staying."
1980:
When the long-awaited reunification of what was left of the United States finally happened, it was not what had been either envisioned or hoped for, however. The Democratic Republic of America was a unitary state, whose president was appointed for life. Property owners alone had the franchise. And unfortunately, such a prize attracted the wrong sort of men and women. Outside the DRA, things had improved. In 1979, the first International Space Agency moonship, Selene III, landed on the Moon. With China, India, Australasia and Brazil intent on their own truncated world, few cared about what was happening in the blighted and devastated Northern Hemisphere. Indeed, many wondered why Superman and the Justice Society remained committed to a dream that had died.
But there was an unanswered question- the longevity of the Black Clown and his ability to amass such prodigious power, as well as his charisma and his murky past. Once, in the forties, he had been a member of an organisation called the Death Battalion, led by a figure in a mesh-globed helmet called the Brain, with his colleagues Black Thorn, Horned Hood, the Laughing Skull, Doctor Death and the Ghost. Over time, the less ambitious figures lapsed into retirement, alcoholism or drug abuse, death in the course of criminal activity or were obliterated if they were unfortunate enough to be in a major unprotected metropolitan centre. That might have been the fate of Black Clown as well, if he hadn't tried an experimental serum that vastly boosted his intellect out of desperation, trying to forge a way for himself in the grim post-apocalyptic world of sixties America. Unexpectedly, however, the risk had paid off. As he watched the map below him, Parrish laughed at the extent to which he now controlled much of the surviving territory of the United States.
Elsewhere, in the Fortress of Solitude, an unexpected globe of energy and light coalesced as Superman and Superwoman prepared to take up the day's responsibilities. When Superman saw who the newcomers inside the globe were, he frowned and stood his ground, impassively staring as the blinding light from within subsided. His wife raised an eyebrow but then she realised why Superman was reacting in that manner. Saturn Woman stepped from the time globe, her expression pensive:
"Imra. I thought I'd made it clear that I didn't want any further interaction with the Legion of Super Heroes. You've lied to me. All those years as Superboy while I fought alongside you, you never told me that the Third World War was part of your history, or anything that I could do to avert it."
"Do you think it was easy for any of us to withhold that information, Kal? Or constantly reinforce the psionic barrier so that you didn't find out any detailed historical data. And we couldn't have done anything to change the event anyway."
"So millions of people died because...what? That they were nothing but mere historical abstractions to you, so distant in the past that their lives didn't matter?" Lois retorted.
"Because we can't change history, Superwoman. And Jimmy Olsen, Pete Ross and Lana Lang were friends to all of us, not historical abstractions. Nor can we risk advanced future technology ending up prematurely in your era's hands."
"Even advanced medical technology, Imra? With humanitarian applications?" Superman asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid, Kal. It's the old Mozart or Hitler conundrum. Believe me, the Legion has seen timelines where there was no Third World War in 1956. They aren't necessarily improvements on this one."
"'Worse' than a nuclear war that killed millions of people?! Do you realise what you're saying, Saturn Woman?" Lois snapped
"I realise that it's difficult for all of you. Starvation, plague, nuclear warfare, civil war, dealing with issues related to human mutants for the first time...and the threat of Harry Parrish, the Black Clown."
"Imra, you've said your piece. Now please leave. And under no circumstances are any members of the Legion of Super-Heroes welcome in this era after the betrayal that you pulled on me and what you allowed to happen."
Saturn Woman paused before she re-entered her timeglobe: "I can do this. The Black Clown isn't what he seems, Kal. I can't tell you any more than that, but I do so in good faith. And, despite what you assert, I do feel guilt about preventing you learning about what would happen later in the twentieth century." With that, Imra Ardeen Ranzz, Saturn Woman, current leader of the Legion of Super Heroes, headed back to her thirtieth century home.
Lois frowned: "What was that all about?"
Superman shrugged: "That the Black Clown has secrets that neither of us suspected. Other than the gold kryptonite in his Palace of State. I don't know, sweetheart. I'll get the Supercomputer to reassess our existing data about him and what else we know about his origins."
Lois nodded toward the global surveillance satellite screen: "It looks like that will have to wait until later, honey. It seems that there's another anti-mutant pogrom going on in Las Vegas. Come on." And thus, due to necessity, a question of potential importance was ignored for the time being.
1982:
As Carter and Shiera Hall alighted on the wall overlooking the mutant ghetto in Little Rock, Hawkman noticed his wife's distance:
"What is it, Shey?"
"This whole business sickens me, Carter. The anti-mutant laws, the legalisation of infanticide, the withdrawal of social assistance to any families who decide to embrace their mutant children. Yes, I know. We're supposed to uphold the law. But what if the law itself is disgusting, inhumane and morally objectionable? At what point do we walk away? When they start setting up concentration camps and forced euthanasia programmes? And don't say that they wouldn't go that far, or that it wouldn't happen in America. They're seriously discussing it in newspapers and academic journals."
Carter nodded: "I know, but if we pick and choose who we help, are we any better those genephobic bigots?"
"The problem is, these policies were voted into place by the electorate and with popular consent and support. That's even worse."
Below, Black Canary waved. Carter and Shiera reflected how much she had aged and how sunken and pitted her face looked. Truth to tell, they hadn't weathered the years all that well either, although at least Midway had a mountain barrier. These days, Black Canary's life was more nomadic and free-ranging than theirs.
The two hawks alighted, stationing themselves in front of the vigilante mob.
One of their assailants yelled: "You're supposed to defend us! Why aren't you letting us pass?"
Hawkman said coldly: "Because a murderous vigilante mob doesn't fit any definition of justice that I'm willing to recognise."
"Think you're better than us, do you? Just because of your fancy wings?"
"Look, buster, I fought a war to stop exactly that sort of mindset. This is America, not Nazi Germany."
"Yeah? You ever watched your own baby starve because them damned muties have their snorts in the public trough, mister?"
"We've all lost people in the aftermath to WW3, lady. I was married before all this blew up. I'm sorry for your loss, but blaming it on mutants and trying to launch a lynch mob against this settlement and attacking peaceful citizens just because of some variation in their genetic code is wrong. They didn't launch that war. Don't try and pretend that your lives will be any better if you do pillage this community and murder its inhabitants. Because that's what you are going to try to do and we will stop you." Black Canary replied.
"Uh, putting down muties ain't murder."
Hawkwoman grimaced: "Yes, thanks to your twisted laws down here, it's only manslaughter, isn't it? It's still killing people."
"This whole debate is pointless! Get them mutie-lovers!!!" And with that epithet, another sorry chapter in humanity's inhumanity toward those of its number who didn't conform to some arbitrary criterion began to be written, in fire and blood. The "Battle of Little Rock" was celebrated in anti-mutant myth for one tragic reason- somewhere during the melee, a gunshot rang out and Dinah Drake Lance, the Black Canary, fell in the course of that conflict.
1985:
Finally, after a long line of questionable, self-serving and mostly incapable leaders- Agnew, Thurmond, Helms, Dannemeyer, Bork, Quayle, Cheney, Palin and Limbaugh- the Democratic Republic of America was about to get a worthwhile president and the Justice Party would win the forthcoming election for the National Legislature. After years of humanitarian activity and technological prowess, Alexander Luthor was polling well and might soon become the next DRA president, with a sweeping reform agenda of mutants rights, a viable and unrationed public healthcare and social security system, reopened universities and wide-ranging anticorruption programmes. And, particularly, an end to the Black Clown Regime that occupied a quarter of the territory what remained of the defunct United States.
Terry Sloane waved to the well-wishers alongside his party's presidential candidate. He was happy to see Superman and Superwoman there as well, even if it had been years since Green Lantern, the Flash, Hawkman, Hawkwoman and Batwoman had relocated to unblemished Australasia several thousand miles to the south after the Limbaugh administration had crossed the Rubicon and debated the creation of 'containment and detention camps' for mutants. Things had seemed grim for a while and the Justice Society had galvanised matters by their announcement that in conscience, they could not continue to serve the American interest if this was what their country had become. It had been a long. bitterly fought election, but in the end, the promise of reform had won out over a bitter, curdled horror house reflection of ignoble aspects of the national psyche. And then, it was time. Sloane had long since abandoned his Mr Terrific persona, but in the atmosphere of elation and relief, he had one more secret left to play. As President Luthor started to read his inauguration speech, he didn't notice that his Secretary for National Security had slipped away. For, all this time, Terry Sloane had had another identity.
Years before, he had had an horrific dysfunctional childhood. The abuse was so intense that Terry Sloane had developed dissociative identity disorder, his mind fragmenting into several alternate personalities. One had been the orthodox, crimefighting Terry Sloane, Mr Terrific. The other... was Harry Parrish, the Black Clown. And at the point when a security detail unmasked as clowns and shot down their innocent counterparts, Superman and Superwoman were ready. As the Black Clown fired at President Luthor, Superwoman sped forward and intercepted the bullet, while Superman barrelled into the startled Black Clown and the other Justice Society members tackled the rogue security detail. But to Superman's shock, Parrish broke his hold and punched him hard in the face. Superman swallowed: "All right, Parrish, the game is over. Even if you're wearing some Kryptonian exoskeleton, you've overreached this time."
The Black Clown laughed in derision: "You pitiful fool, Kal-El. Did you honestly think you were the only survivor of Krypton?"
Something in the recesses of Superman's mind cleared: "Rao. That voice... General Dru-Zod?!"
"Yes, or more precisely a Kryptonian neural net. I have a vendetta against your father for foiling my putsch against Krypton's wretched Science Council and my reduction to this neuronet framework. But yes, I've been puppeting Sloane/Parrish here all along. It took decades but finally, I succeeded in transferring my consciousness into Sloane/Parrish's body and then replicating the same superpowers that you produced in your doxy over there."
"You won't assassinate Luthor. Not while I'm here to stop you." Superwoman said as her husband fought the Black Clown. In the ensuing minutes, any pretence of human normality ended as the Black Clown rose into the sky, still battling Superman. Lois stood her ground, shielding the president with her invulnerable body, as additional Coulrosian assailants tried to replicate the actions of their leader, now only a speck in the sky above. The battle was an impasse, however, and neither man could gain ascendancy over one another. Until Superman finally slammed the Black Clown into the Moon's surface, and deep in the shadow of the northern lunar crater Aristarchus, the abnormally empowered combatant felt a worrying tingling sensation. Then he started to labour his breath and grasped at the sides of the crater. Superman produced a forcescreen generator from his belt and set it on the lunar soil. The Black Clown lay there, continuing to gasp and dry retch, as Superman knelt beside him:
"It's over. Your neural net couldn't stand the stress of vacuum combat once it was exposed to purple K and neither can your body now. Why, Zod?"
"Your world did this to itself, El. I didn't elect a president with a badly chosen, borderline psychotic warmonger deputy who propelled his world over the brink when he was propelled to a position of responsibility he was unequipped to handle. All I did do was take advantage of the situation."
"You failed. This world will rebuild and reach its full potential now. I'm proud of Lex and who he's become now."
"Hold that thought, El..." The Black Clown gave one last defiant laugh and then slumped against the crater wall. And then, looking up, he saw a pinpoint of blinding light appear at the location of Lincoln, Nebraska. Ground zero was the presidential seal of office insignia. President Lex Luthor never had a chance to fulfil his agenda or show the world that he would have brought hope and prosperity to it, incinerated as a mushroom cloud coalesced from the fissioning atomic chain reaction. High above, Alan Scott, Jay Garrick, Carter and Shiera Hall, Lois Kent and Kathy Wayne looked on, in sorrow:
"He won, after all. And even if Sloane is dead, he's insured another several generations of anarchy, deprivation and hopelessness. Most of the Justice Party was here and the New Nationalists are hostile to Lex' agenda."
"Do you see it now, Lois? The old America is dead. We didn't leave its successor, it left us. How can we continue to preserve a repressive, unjust social order and corrupt hierarchy like this?"
As Superman descended to embrace his wife, he nodded: "All right, Alan. I agree. Ironic, really. Even in dying, Sloane/Parrish/Zod won. He destroyed the last vestiges of America as we all knew it and loved it. But that doesn't exist anymore. It's time to go."
EPILOGUE:
THE AMERICAN DARK AGES: Abandoned by the rest of Earth's nations, the Democratic Republic of America only lasted another twenty years itself, until a coup d'etat in New Orleans led to the Ascensionist religious dictatorship. After factional dissent disrupted it, North America lapsed into a period of tribalism and barbarism (See: TEXARKANA EMPIRE: See: VACQUERO CONFEDERATION. See: CHURCH OF THE ALPHA AND OMEGA) that would last for centuries. In the end, while the Justice Society and its members saved many lives during the immediate aftermath of the Third World War, it could not save its host society from fragmentation, paranoia, corruption and its worst nature. And so, it fled southward, to a new world of hope, prosperity, openness and justice. Thus, America lapsed into quiescence, silence, despair, starvation, plague and anarchy, much as the Roman Empire had done countless centuries before. And like the successors of the Roman Empire long before, it would be centuries too before civilisation returned to the corpse of North America.
THE END
Effectively, the war was a stalemate. Moscow and Washington were hit by aircraft-borne weapons, as were New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Denver, Cheyenne, Chicago, Detroit, Miami, Atlanta, Dallas, Houston, Austin, Kiev, Leningrad, Minsk, Vladivostok, London, Birmingham, Paris, Antwerp, Amsterdam, Manchester, Lyons, Marseilles, Rouen, Bonn, Rome, Venice, Milan, Tokyo, Osaka, Seoul, Pyongyang and Naples all disappeared in firestorms mushroom clouds. Although the United States had an estimated 2422 nuclear weapons, the United Kingdom had 14 and the USSR had only 200, the USSR derived some "benefit" from the panicked, hysterical response of Richard Nixon. Khrushchev and Nixon are both believed to have died in the chaos that had followed, as Air Force One was caught in the immolation of Washington and Khruschev and his Politbureau perished in their bunkers deep beneath Moscow. The blow shattered the combatant nations into fragments and decapitated their respective political leadership.
As for its metahumans, this much can be ascertained. Superman was able to deflect nuclear missiles from Metropolis and Gotham City across the bay, but the pollution and effluent from burning cities poisoned much of the Atlantic Ocean, leading to the starvation and asphyxiation of the inhabitants of Atlantis, including Aquaman, their king. As Star City was not a major target and not adjacent to a USAF airbase, Green Arrow and Speedy survived, however. Finally, and most tragically, Wonder Woman sacrificed her life trying in vain to save Washington DC from the Soviet Air Force bomber that destroyed it. Although she fought valiantly, the Amazon Princess, her love Colonel Steve Trevor and another two and a half million Washingtonians were obliterated from existence when a twenty kiloton bomb detonated above the White House. The remaining superheroes were shell shocked by what they had endured. Batman and Green Arrow were run ragged, trying to protect their cities from the collapse of central authority, vulnerability to radiation poisoning and the disruption of food distribution routes and medicine supplies. Superman abandoned his Clark Kent identity, married Lois Lane and evacuated most of his friends to his Fortress of Solitude. Thereafter, the Man of Steel was mostly restricted to Earth. Unfortunately, Coast City and Central City were adjacent to AFBs and consequently perished in the nuclear exchange and Ivy Town was similarly a city of scientific significance and moreover, too near Boston to survive. All of the above happened ten years ago. It is now 1966.
METROPOLIS:
Superman flew over the city, acheing inside. He watched as bodybags were thrown roughly into piles, the outcome of a bubonic plague infection that had particularly ravaged the city's infants and aged citizens. Most of the very old and young had perished from the postwar world, if they were unlucky enough to live in Northern Hemisphere nations afflicted by the Third World War. All the power at his disposal and he could do nothing, except hope that the pandemic would soon be over. Lex Luthor waved from atop a roof garden on one of the skyscrapers. That was one of the benefits of this ordeal that faced them all- his older rogues, such as the Prankster and Toyman, abandoned their criminal careers when the days of prewar excess, plenty and surplus had come screeching to a halt. But as for Luthor, Superman had been pleasantly surprised. In view of the struggle that now faced surviving humanity, his former archfoe had laid down his arms and had become a respected scientist, innovator and leading political figure. All trace of his former enmity against Superman had evaporated:
"Lex?"
"Superman, I've received some troubling news from Star City. They seem to be under siege. From a character called "The Black Clown."
Superman frowned: "Could that be Batman's old foe, the Joker, Lex?"
Luthor shook his head: "No. As far as we know, the Joker committed suicide when he burnt down Arkham Asylum. Batman identified the forensic traces. There was no doubt, judging from the chemical stains on his skin."
"Do you, or Batman, have any intel on this Black Clown criminal, then?"
"According to what we've pieced together, the Black Clown used to be known as one Harold Parrish, the proprietor of the Parrish Brothers Circus. When his own financial recklessness and mismanagement led to its closure, he was embittered after he failed to secure a bank loan. For a while, he fought individual members of the Justice Society like Dr Mid Nite, the Sandman and Black Canary, before disappearing from sight before the war. Then the JSA retired and disbanded after McCarthy's HUAC targeted them a few years ago. Given that criminal records were destroyed during the War, it's just as well we've managed to retrieve the local records from here, Keystone City and other surviving communities."
"That leaves a gap of a decade, Lex. Does anyone have any idea of what Parrish might have done in the interim?"
"We know that he broke out of Gotham Penitentiary during a forest fire alert which forced its evacuation, back in mid-November 1956. Batman would like this. Apparently, he's traded in heavily on his clowning past. He's turned himself into a charismatic leader, of sorts."
COULROS CITY:
With their disguise and grotesque appearance, as well as stylised behaviour, the clown had been an ambivalent figure of amusement and dread before the Third World War. Afterward, however, with the disappearance of networks of trade and transportation, large touring companies went defunct and the surviving clowns suffered the consequences of a specialised entertainment market in a suddenly emptier world. Many starved or died of preventative disease epidemics. Shamefully, in smaller and superstitious communities, they were often also persecuted as sorcerors or necromancers. In self-defense, many clowns banded together in nomadic enclaves of their own. As time went on, too, they lost their comic aspect and steadily darkened in moral tone and emphasis, capitalising on the dread, revulsion, ambiguity and fear their appearance inspired in such quarters. This made clown communities fertile ground for recruitment and seduction by Harry Parrish, the "Black Clown", whose rhetoric and shared occupational history appealed to his fellow transitional beings. And thus, clowns began to steadily lose their functions of amusement and entertainment, becoming instead dark gatekeepers and dread figures of retribution and mercenary violence.
Harry Parrish (the Black Clown) had survived the Third World War in style and now plotted to take over the ruins of the United States. He looked out over his encampment of followers and cracked his knuckles. Time to gather the flock together and prepare for the offensive against Star City and its hapless emerald clad archer. He looked forward to a summary trial for Green Arrow and stringing him up on the city walls.
KEYSTONE CITY:
"I'm getting damned tired of this job, these responsibilities, this weight on my shoulders, Jay. I'm getting tired of losing people we love, never staying in place long enough to build a successful relationship, settle down and have kids, never retiring. Are we ever going to be able to decisively change things?"
The Flash gripped his long time friend's shoulder: "Hey, I did with Joan. As for the kids angle, we decided not to. There's always the risk that one of our old enemies could track us down and kill us, especially in this world and in conscience, we couldn't expose any kids we might have to that. I know this isn't what any of us wanted, but it's the cards that we were dealt. Some of the younger heroes have it harder. It would've been great to have had a new generation of mystery men and women right about now to take over from us and take up the slack. But the war happened. At least, though, we were able to save Gotham and Keystone from Soviet attack. And we still have most of the old team with us...apart from Diana."
"When she died, Jay, I thought about giving it up altogether. She and Steve never got down to putting down the burden and then the Reds pulverised Washington and she died in the line of duty."
"I know, buddy, I miss her too."
"I mean, how long are we going to have to do this for? Until all of the JSA are dead, apart from us? The way things are going, that might not be long. Charles looks so old these days, from a decade of dealing with radiation poisoning deaths and exposing himself to risk defending the mutants from those who hate and revile them because of factors beyond their control. Even Al has aged, and he was the youngest of the old team. Hell, Jay, even the younger heroes that do exist are looking ravaged. I work with Batman quite regularly and he's only in his thirties- lines, wrinkles and grey hair."
And Alan Scott and Jay Garrick sat that night, whiskeys in hand, as Joan Garrick finished cleaning the tea items and put them away. After Alan left to fly back to Gotham, Joan gently kissed her husband:
"What is it?"
"I'm getting worried about him, sweetheart. He can't carry on like this, not indefinitely."
"You men, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."
"Not only men, darling. Diana was definitely a woman of courage, tenacity and achievement. Al's right, she and Steve didn't deserve to die that way. Have I ever told you how grateful I am for you being in my life, Mrs Garrick? Because if it wasn't for you, I'd give up in despair too." The Garricks embraced. Around them, Keystone was quiet, given that their speedster would be ready to keep them safe should hardship arise. Not the oldtime villains, because most of them had died in the apocalypse, had reformed or retired. Other cities weren't that lucky. High above Gotham, as Green Lantern neared the sprawling city, the distant sounds of machine gun fire, cries for help and the victims of cumulative radiation poisoning tore at his heart. He breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the Batmobile, Batman and Robin. He flew into sight, waving to the duo below.
GOTHAM:
"Hello, Bruce."
"Damn it, Kathy, I thought you'd-"
"What, so you can carry your responsibility alone, with Dick there? I mean, I'm sorry, but you boys can't keep on with this alone. Don't worry about me. And as to how I worked out you're Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, your facial features and bodies resemble each other more than you might want to think."
DOCTOR FATE'S TOWER:
"What is it, Kent?"
"Inza, I fear that one of the brave guardians of Gotham will not survive this night."
"Can't we call Superman-?"
Doctor Fate shook his head: "He is too busy working on that essential canal for the Californian survivors, I fear. Moreover, I know not at what time this tragedy will befall them."
GOTHAM:
Once, he was simply named "The Clown." There was a singular difficulty with this device, which was the fact that there were numerous mystery men and women who used the maquillage under which they hid their true identities for either good or evil. It took specific individuality to achieve renown or notoriety if one utilised this motif, hence the impression that the deceased Joker had made, or the contemporary threat that the Black Clown now posed on his own, long having since abandoned his Death Battalion comrades. He had fought the Flash and Green Lantern, but having survived the Third World War, and experiencing persecution due to his chosen mode of self-expression, he gravitated toward the Coulros settlement.
As Green Lantern alighted near Batwoman, Batman and Robin, their attention was drawn to the new intruder. Green Lantern frowned:
"Hey, the Flash told me about him. Lyle Corley. He used to be part of a circus act called the Flying Corleys, but the Flash had to intervene to stop a Keystone City power blackout so wasn't on hand to avert the tragedy when the trapeze that they'd used broke and they fell to their deaths."
Batman glanced at Robin, knowing the story would remind him of Boss Zucco and the murder of his parents. The teenage crime fighter called to him:
"Hey, Clown guy. Look, it happened to me, too. You don't have to do this. Give this up and we can-" Robin got no further as the malefactor threw a wooden spike, its end glistening with deadly poison, at the Green Lantern. Heedless of the risk to his own safety, the young hero somersaulted, kicking the stake out of the way. However, in doing so, the poison point scratched his leg. Abruptly, Robin's somersault became ataxic and jerky as he fell onto the pavement, heavily. Batman ran to his colleague's side, while Green Lantern and Batwoman closed in on the intruder. Grinning in insane malignance, Corley pressed what appeared to be a buzzer button on his hand. In reality, it was a suicide bomb strapped to him. Green Lantern protected the others from the impact, then turned to see Batman sobbing, gently cradling the lifeless body of the dead Boy Wonder, his sightless eyes catching them both. Batwoman, her own eyes brimming with tears, gently took Batman in her arms and rocked backward and forward with him.
Although Dick Grayson had only been fourteen when he was killed in the line of duty, the other surviving superheroes made an honour guard for his funeral, albeit in their civilian identities. Superman, Flash, Green Lantern and Batman carried the small coffin to its resting place near the battle-scarred remains of Wayne Manor, laying him to rest alongside Alfred Pennyworth's grave- the selfless, loving butler had perished of radiation poisoning shortly after the war. He had been sorely missed by Bruce and Dick- and now, Bruce was left to mourn on his own.
The day after, Bruce Wayne awoke on his own, running his hand through his hair. Looking in the mirror, he saw strands of grey and wrinkles on the side of his eyes where none had previously been. Stiffly, he arose, walking down the dusty corridor and almost called for Alfred, before his eyes fell on the gold-framed picture of his late retainer and he remembered. Walking into Dick's room, he went to the closet and took out his Robin uniform. In the woodland near the Batcave, he and Kathy had constructed a memorial pyre for Robin, to specifically remember and mourn who he had been. Feeling robotic, as if he were going through mere motions, he carried out a picnic hamper as Kathy, Superman and Lois waited. Placing the uniform silently atop the pyre, he gently strode forward and lit it. In a matter of minutes, the brittle, dry wood surged into flame and the fabric burnt as a second memorial service was held for the "Boy Wonder" who would now never have a chance to grow up. Later, that afternoon, Bruce walked past the portraits of Thomas and Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth and now, Dick Grayson, all shrouded in funereal black. A tear splashed down as Kathy Kane joined him and they clasped hands. Suddenly, around him, Bruce realised how cavernous and empty Wayne Manor felt, truly a mausoleum for a solemn creature of the night. On Dick's desk. he spotted a copy of the teenager's favourite heroic story- Robin Hood. That did it. He swallowed and sat on Dick's mattress, alongside Kathy:
"I should never have taken him on as my companion, Kathy."
"Bruce, don't blame yourself for any of this. Please. He was as driven as you were after Zucco murdered his parents."
"I know that. But I robbed him of his childhood."
"That doesn't sound like the Dick Grayson I knew, Robin the Boy Wonder, always wise-cracking, eager to play his part."
"All it took was one lousy minor wound to the leg and he was gone."
"It could have been either of you. My heart is broken too. It's just as well Bette died when Chicago went up. I miss her, of course, but at least she wasn't here to see what happened to Dick."
Ace the Bat Hound padded over and laid his head on Bruce's knee, whimpering softly: "I know, boy. I know."
As Green Lantern lifted his beer glass, Jay clinked his together with it:
"Do you think he'll be all right?"
"He's lucky. He's got Batwoman there alongside him. But...damn it, Jay, the boy was only fourteen. What a waste."
"Do you think we should reconvene the JSA, Al?"
Alan looked up and nodded: "Perhaps if we'd done this sooner..."
"It's just this world we live in, Al. All the more reason to overcome HUAC's vainglorious idiocy and take up the cudgels again."
"Are we ever going to retire, Jay? Are we ever going to have time? Look at Bruce. Look at how haggard and weathered he's getting. Hell... how we're all getting, except Superman."
Jay Garrick nodded: "All the radiation around, I guess. It's accelerating the ageing process. There'll be a lot more cancers around and the psychological stress isn't helping many of us."
1967:
In May 1967, Perry White died of respiratory complications and was buried in the Arctic permafrost. The other staff at the defunct Daily Planet had told him he shouldn't have smoked so much, but in this grim new time, there were insufficient hospital beds left for 'self-inflicted' conditions such as lung cancer. He was survived by his grieving wife, Alice and around him, the other employees of the great metropolitan newspaper. Jimmy Olsen's hairline was receding, and he almost felt for Lucy Lane's hand, but of course, the air stewardess had been in flight and about to land in New York when the Soviet fighter jet unleashed its grim fusillade. His fingers clasped empty air in the Arctic morning. He shoved them in his pocket, hoping no-one had noticed.
And in the inferno that was Star City, a single form twisted on the end of a rope, his arrow holster dropped on the ground, spilling out emerald arrows. Oliver Queen stared sightlessly at the fire and chaos around him, while in the wreck of the Arrowcar, Roy Harper's body was slumped over the jagged remains of its windscreen. Around them, grim figures pirouetted and cavorted, no longer signs of humour and amusement, but the transition to entropy and chaos. High atop the ruins of the Queen Tower, Harold Parrish helped himself to the proceeds of his brutality and raised a glass to his fellow inhabitants of the boundary between civilisation and chaos. For as Star City burnt around them that night, chaos had won.
1972:
Sixteen years after the Third World War, Batman was the next one to fall. While Batwoman and he had long since married, radiation poisoning had prevented any pregnancies and thus, they fought crime together for many years. However, prolonged exposure to radiation had its tragic effects, foreclosing the years that Batman had left to fight crime before becoming incapacitated. Every year, as Batman and Batwoman rode out the Batmobile together, his hair turned greyer, his eyes acquired more wrinkles and his face developed more lines in its forehead. At the same time, he started to wear contact lenses. Increasingly, he became reliant on a pharmaceutical store to artificially boost his flexibility and athleticism, delaying the natural processes of ageing. But in the harsh radioactive environment of post-apocalyptic Earth, radiation was omnipresent and lives were shortened by it. Even a Batman is not immortal.
One day, tackling the Riddler, he felt dizzy and collapsed. What would have been a mere fall had developed into something worse, given the paucity of medical treatment. Superman and Lois (now transformed into Superwoman due to a formula that gave Terran humans Kryptonian class abilities), Kathy, Green Lantern, the Flash, Joan Garrick and the rest of the Justice Society stood around the bed of the Caped Crusader, who had never expected to die in bed- or as soon as in his forties. Kathy held her husband's hand as his breathing gradually became fainter, until it was almost imperceptible, then it stopped altogether. Bruce Wayne, Batman, had passed away in his sleep. Kathy looked up: "From now on, I'll be carrying this on alone. After what happened to Dick, there won't be any more companions like Robin."
"I'll miss him, honey. We all will." Lois said as the Woman of Steel embraced her long-time friend.
"The rest of you might want to consider calling it a day, too."
Wildcat shook his head: "Nope, Al. We're in this for the duration. What happened to Bruce here was a damned shame, but if reduced life expectancy is a correlate of what we face now, so be it. Who are we to live any longer than ordinary folks in this situation?"
Black Canary nodded: "We take risks, Alan. We all know them. We won't flinch from them."
The Atom added his assent to the others: "We won't leave you in the lurch, ever."
"And Kathy? I hope the no sidekicks rule doesn't exclude comrades in arms." Mr Terrific said.
As the others filed out, Lois reached up to brush a tear from Clark's face:
"I know, darling. I'd feel the same way if it were you. And I know how long how your friendship lasted."
"I'm so damned lucky, Lois. So damned lucky to have you fighting alongside me, sharing my life."
Green Lantern interrupted their moment: "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid there's something you both need to see."
The urgency in Alan Scott's voice and the foreboding tone led both of them to run into the main dining room. What they saw made them swallow and turn away. Lois began to sob as her husband took her in her arms. There, on a mercifully monochrome screen, lay the twisted and broken body of Jimmy Olsen, his camera twisted around his throat, his head lying at an angle from his body, decapitated, the debris of his signal watch shattered alongside his hand. The sinister silhouette of the Black Clown smiled mirthlessly: "Let that be a lesson for you, Superman. No interference. Otherwise your spy here won't be the first of you to perish."
Lois and Superman held each other as their friend's coffin was laid to rest. They were the only ones left now. As he held her, Clark wondered what the future would bring...
1977:
"Meaning?"
"It's what we feared, Alan. The Justice Society represents an America that no longer exists. President Agnew of the Midwestern States has refused to allow us into their territory."
"So that's it, then? Wildcat and Atom died for nothing, trying to save their miserable necks?" Green Lantern blazed.
"Easy, Alan."
"I'm not sure I can do this anymore, Jay. It's been almost twenty years since the war. And instead of alien threats and mad scientists, we're fighting to keep a country together that doesn't want to be. Well, I've almost had it. It's been two decades of famine, civil war and plague. The more lives we try to save, the more their damned leadership seem to be intent on throwing them away. Every time we seem to be getting closer to becoming a country again, it all falls apart."
Batwoman said: "Because the weak and vulnerable need us to be there. It's what Dick gave his life for and what Bruce worked himself into an early grave for."
"I know that, Kathy. But the question is, do we do it here? Can we, anymore? How many more of us will have to die before we realise that we're running in place here, exhausting ourselves? Do we have to lose Terry and Dinah as well? Perhaps Charles had the right idea, retiring so that his medical career could take priority."
Terry Sloane cleared his throat: "That's a valid observation to make, Alan. I understand. I can't keep up this facade, the illusion that our heroics are making a difference. I'm quitting, hanging up the mask. Fair play needs to be fought for in other arenas."
Dinah embraced him: "I'll miss you, you big lug."
"Dinah, you don't have to stay-"
"Since I lost Larry to cancer, I don't have anywhere else to go. Because I still believe in what the JSA stands for. And I always will. I'm staying."
1980:
When the long-awaited reunification of what was left of the United States finally happened, it was not what had been either envisioned or hoped for, however. The Democratic Republic of America was a unitary state, whose president was appointed for life. Property owners alone had the franchise. And unfortunately, such a prize attracted the wrong sort of men and women. Outside the DRA, things had improved. In 1979, the first International Space Agency moonship, Selene III, landed on the Moon. With China, India, Australasia and Brazil intent on their own truncated world, few cared about what was happening in the blighted and devastated Northern Hemisphere. Indeed, many wondered why Superman and the Justice Society remained committed to a dream that had died.
But there was an unanswered question- the longevity of the Black Clown and his ability to amass such prodigious power, as well as his charisma and his murky past. Once, in the forties, he had been a member of an organisation called the Death Battalion, led by a figure in a mesh-globed helmet called the Brain, with his colleagues Black Thorn, Horned Hood, the Laughing Skull, Doctor Death and the Ghost. Over time, the less ambitious figures lapsed into retirement, alcoholism or drug abuse, death in the course of criminal activity or were obliterated if they were unfortunate enough to be in a major unprotected metropolitan centre. That might have been the fate of Black Clown as well, if he hadn't tried an experimental serum that vastly boosted his intellect out of desperation, trying to forge a way for himself in the grim post-apocalyptic world of sixties America. Unexpectedly, however, the risk had paid off. As he watched the map below him, Parrish laughed at the extent to which he now controlled much of the surviving territory of the United States.
Elsewhere, in the Fortress of Solitude, an unexpected globe of energy and light coalesced as Superman and Superwoman prepared to take up the day's responsibilities. When Superman saw who the newcomers inside the globe were, he frowned and stood his ground, impassively staring as the blinding light from within subsided. His wife raised an eyebrow but then she realised why Superman was reacting in that manner. Saturn Woman stepped from the time globe, her expression pensive:
"Imra. I thought I'd made it clear that I didn't want any further interaction with the Legion of Super Heroes. You've lied to me. All those years as Superboy while I fought alongside you, you never told me that the Third World War was part of your history, or anything that I could do to avert it."
"Do you think it was easy for any of us to withhold that information, Kal? Or constantly reinforce the psionic barrier so that you didn't find out any detailed historical data. And we couldn't have done anything to change the event anyway."
"So millions of people died because...what? That they were nothing but mere historical abstractions to you, so distant in the past that their lives didn't matter?" Lois retorted.
"Because we can't change history, Superwoman. And Jimmy Olsen, Pete Ross and Lana Lang were friends to all of us, not historical abstractions. Nor can we risk advanced future technology ending up prematurely in your era's hands."
"Even advanced medical technology, Imra? With humanitarian applications?" Superman asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid, Kal. It's the old Mozart or Hitler conundrum. Believe me, the Legion has seen timelines where there was no Third World War in 1956. They aren't necessarily improvements on this one."
"'Worse' than a nuclear war that killed millions of people?! Do you realise what you're saying, Saturn Woman?" Lois snapped
"I realise that it's difficult for all of you. Starvation, plague, nuclear warfare, civil war, dealing with issues related to human mutants for the first time...and the threat of Harry Parrish, the Black Clown."
"Imra, you've said your piece. Now please leave. And under no circumstances are any members of the Legion of Super-Heroes welcome in this era after the betrayal that you pulled on me and what you allowed to happen."
Saturn Woman paused before she re-entered her timeglobe: "I can do this. The Black Clown isn't what he seems, Kal. I can't tell you any more than that, but I do so in good faith. And, despite what you assert, I do feel guilt about preventing you learning about what would happen later in the twentieth century." With that, Imra Ardeen Ranzz, Saturn Woman, current leader of the Legion of Super Heroes, headed back to her thirtieth century home.
Lois frowned: "What was that all about?"
Superman shrugged: "That the Black Clown has secrets that neither of us suspected. Other than the gold kryptonite in his Palace of State. I don't know, sweetheart. I'll get the Supercomputer to reassess our existing data about him and what else we know about his origins."
Lois nodded toward the global surveillance satellite screen: "It looks like that will have to wait until later, honey. It seems that there's another anti-mutant pogrom going on in Las Vegas. Come on." And thus, due to necessity, a question of potential importance was ignored for the time being.
1982:
As Carter and Shiera Hall alighted on the wall overlooking the mutant ghetto in Little Rock, Hawkman noticed his wife's distance:
"What is it, Shey?"
"This whole business sickens me, Carter. The anti-mutant laws, the legalisation of infanticide, the withdrawal of social assistance to any families who decide to embrace their mutant children. Yes, I know. We're supposed to uphold the law. But what if the law itself is disgusting, inhumane and morally objectionable? At what point do we walk away? When they start setting up concentration camps and forced euthanasia programmes? And don't say that they wouldn't go that far, or that it wouldn't happen in America. They're seriously discussing it in newspapers and academic journals."
Carter nodded: "I know, but if we pick and choose who we help, are we any better those genephobic bigots?"
"The problem is, these policies were voted into place by the electorate and with popular consent and support. That's even worse."
Below, Black Canary waved. Carter and Shiera reflected how much she had aged and how sunken and pitted her face looked. Truth to tell, they hadn't weathered the years all that well either, although at least Midway had a mountain barrier. These days, Black Canary's life was more nomadic and free-ranging than theirs.
The two hawks alighted, stationing themselves in front of the vigilante mob.
One of their assailants yelled: "You're supposed to defend us! Why aren't you letting us pass?"
Hawkman said coldly: "Because a murderous vigilante mob doesn't fit any definition of justice that I'm willing to recognise."
"Think you're better than us, do you? Just because of your fancy wings?"
"Look, buster, I fought a war to stop exactly that sort of mindset. This is America, not Nazi Germany."
"Yeah? You ever watched your own baby starve because them damned muties have their snorts in the public trough, mister?"
"We've all lost people in the aftermath to WW3, lady. I was married before all this blew up. I'm sorry for your loss, but blaming it on mutants and trying to launch a lynch mob against this settlement and attacking peaceful citizens just because of some variation in their genetic code is wrong. They didn't launch that war. Don't try and pretend that your lives will be any better if you do pillage this community and murder its inhabitants. Because that's what you are going to try to do and we will stop you." Black Canary replied.
"Uh, putting down muties ain't murder."
Hawkwoman grimaced: "Yes, thanks to your twisted laws down here, it's only manslaughter, isn't it? It's still killing people."
"This whole debate is pointless! Get them mutie-lovers!!!" And with that epithet, another sorry chapter in humanity's inhumanity toward those of its number who didn't conform to some arbitrary criterion began to be written, in fire and blood. The "Battle of Little Rock" was celebrated in anti-mutant myth for one tragic reason- somewhere during the melee, a gunshot rang out and Dinah Drake Lance, the Black Canary, fell in the course of that conflict.
1985:
Finally, after a long line of questionable, self-serving and mostly incapable leaders- Agnew, Thurmond, Helms, Dannemeyer, Bork, Quayle, Cheney, Palin and Limbaugh- the Democratic Republic of America was about to get a worthwhile president and the Justice Party would win the forthcoming election for the National Legislature. After years of humanitarian activity and technological prowess, Alexander Luthor was polling well and might soon become the next DRA president, with a sweeping reform agenda of mutants rights, a viable and unrationed public healthcare and social security system, reopened universities and wide-ranging anticorruption programmes. And, particularly, an end to the Black Clown Regime that occupied a quarter of the territory what remained of the defunct United States.
Terry Sloane waved to the well-wishers alongside his party's presidential candidate. He was happy to see Superman and Superwoman there as well, even if it had been years since Green Lantern, the Flash, Hawkman, Hawkwoman and Batwoman had relocated to unblemished Australasia several thousand miles to the south after the Limbaugh administration had crossed the Rubicon and debated the creation of 'containment and detention camps' for mutants. Things had seemed grim for a while and the Justice Society had galvanised matters by their announcement that in conscience, they could not continue to serve the American interest if this was what their country had become. It had been a long. bitterly fought election, but in the end, the promise of reform had won out over a bitter, curdled horror house reflection of ignoble aspects of the national psyche. And then, it was time. Sloane had long since abandoned his Mr Terrific persona, but in the atmosphere of elation and relief, he had one more secret left to play. As President Luthor started to read his inauguration speech, he didn't notice that his Secretary for National Security had slipped away. For, all this time, Terry Sloane had had another identity.
Years before, he had had an horrific dysfunctional childhood. The abuse was so intense that Terry Sloane had developed dissociative identity disorder, his mind fragmenting into several alternate personalities. One had been the orthodox, crimefighting Terry Sloane, Mr Terrific. The other... was Harry Parrish, the Black Clown. And at the point when a security detail unmasked as clowns and shot down their innocent counterparts, Superman and Superwoman were ready. As the Black Clown fired at President Luthor, Superwoman sped forward and intercepted the bullet, while Superman barrelled into the startled Black Clown and the other Justice Society members tackled the rogue security detail. But to Superman's shock, Parrish broke his hold and punched him hard in the face. Superman swallowed: "All right, Parrish, the game is over. Even if you're wearing some Kryptonian exoskeleton, you've overreached this time."
The Black Clown laughed in derision: "You pitiful fool, Kal-El. Did you honestly think you were the only survivor of Krypton?"
Something in the recesses of Superman's mind cleared: "Rao. That voice... General Dru-Zod?!"
"Yes, or more precisely a Kryptonian neural net. I have a vendetta against your father for foiling my putsch against Krypton's wretched Science Council and my reduction to this neuronet framework. But yes, I've been puppeting Sloane/Parrish here all along. It took decades but finally, I succeeded in transferring my consciousness into Sloane/Parrish's body and then replicating the same superpowers that you produced in your doxy over there."
"You won't assassinate Luthor. Not while I'm here to stop you." Superwoman said as her husband fought the Black Clown. In the ensuing minutes, any pretence of human normality ended as the Black Clown rose into the sky, still battling Superman. Lois stood her ground, shielding the president with her invulnerable body, as additional Coulrosian assailants tried to replicate the actions of their leader, now only a speck in the sky above. The battle was an impasse, however, and neither man could gain ascendancy over one another. Until Superman finally slammed the Black Clown into the Moon's surface, and deep in the shadow of the northern lunar crater Aristarchus, the abnormally empowered combatant felt a worrying tingling sensation. Then he started to labour his breath and grasped at the sides of the crater. Superman produced a forcescreen generator from his belt and set it on the lunar soil. The Black Clown lay there, continuing to gasp and dry retch, as Superman knelt beside him:
"It's over. Your neural net couldn't stand the stress of vacuum combat once it was exposed to purple K and neither can your body now. Why, Zod?"
"Your world did this to itself, El. I didn't elect a president with a badly chosen, borderline psychotic warmonger deputy who propelled his world over the brink when he was propelled to a position of responsibility he was unequipped to handle. All I did do was take advantage of the situation."
"You failed. This world will rebuild and reach its full potential now. I'm proud of Lex and who he's become now."
"Hold that thought, El..." The Black Clown gave one last defiant laugh and then slumped against the crater wall. And then, looking up, he saw a pinpoint of blinding light appear at the location of Lincoln, Nebraska. Ground zero was the presidential seal of office insignia. President Lex Luthor never had a chance to fulfil his agenda or show the world that he would have brought hope and prosperity to it, incinerated as a mushroom cloud coalesced from the fissioning atomic chain reaction. High above, Alan Scott, Jay Garrick, Carter and Shiera Hall, Lois Kent and Kathy Wayne looked on, in sorrow:
"He won, after all. And even if Sloane is dead, he's insured another several generations of anarchy, deprivation and hopelessness. Most of the Justice Party was here and the New Nationalists are hostile to Lex' agenda."
"Do you see it now, Lois? The old America is dead. We didn't leave its successor, it left us. How can we continue to preserve a repressive, unjust social order and corrupt hierarchy like this?"
As Superman descended to embrace his wife, he nodded: "All right, Alan. I agree. Ironic, really. Even in dying, Sloane/Parrish/Zod won. He destroyed the last vestiges of America as we all knew it and loved it. But that doesn't exist anymore. It's time to go."
EPILOGUE:
THE AMERICAN DARK AGES: Abandoned by the rest of Earth's nations, the Democratic Republic of America only lasted another twenty years itself, until a coup d'etat in New Orleans led to the Ascensionist religious dictatorship. After factional dissent disrupted it, North America lapsed into a period of tribalism and barbarism (See: TEXARKANA EMPIRE: See: VACQUERO CONFEDERATION. See: CHURCH OF THE ALPHA AND OMEGA) that would last for centuries. In the end, while the Justice Society and its members saved many lives during the immediate aftermath of the Third World War, it could not save its host society from fragmentation, paranoia, corruption and its worst nature. And so, it fled southward, to a new world of hope, prosperity, openness and justice. Thus, America lapsed into quiescence, silence, despair, starvation, plague and anarchy, much as the Roman Empire had done countless centuries before. And like the successors of the Roman Empire long before, it would be centuries too before civilisation returned to the corpse of North America.
THE END