Post by johnreiter902 on Jun 10, 2017 11:28:17 GMT
Hell on Earth, Chapter 1
The Metahuman detention wing was the assignment nobody wanted. It was no secret that 90% of all the successful prison breaks from Parker Maximum Security Prison were from that wing. And unless a superhero arrived in time, (contrary to popular belief, not a regular occurrence) the guards could easily be dead by the time their inmates were gone.
Because of this, nobody on duty in the MHD wing paid much attention to the appearance of their charges. Oh, accidents did happen. Newbies gulled by the whole “I’m feeling faint, leave me alone in the infirmary for an hour or so” routine. For the most part, though, long experience had helped them not to be fooled by appearances, and to remember that everyone in this place was a monster.
Take prisoner 777174 as an example. One might think him totally harmless at first glance. Crazy, perhaps, if that first glance met bulgy, hate-filled eyes that looked like they were willing everything in their path to burn eternally. Still how much harm could he be? Bald, spindly, at a height which could only be called shrimpy (particularly because 777174 had a habit of stooping when he walked), this man seemed like the sort of geek who would be regularly picked on in school.
And perhaps he had, long ago. But nobody who knew him now had any doubt that Timothy Karnes was a monster among monsters.
Nobody that had lived through meeting Sabbac, that is.
* * *
Timothy Karnes longed more than almost anything to show them the power of Sabbac again. It was at the forefront of his brain every time he pressed his fisted hands into the cold, unyielding cement walls and remembered when the strength of Satan himself flowed through him, when he could have torn this wall to pieces and flown forth with the speed of Crateis to kill his mortal enemies in the Marvel Family.
Karnes stalked across his cell to his cot, the very image of an agitated, scurrying insect. He traded his position of frustrated pacing, for an equally frustrated sitting position, glaring at the wall as if it were the personification of his foes.
That was something he would like almost more than his powers and his freedom, to see the so-called mightiest mortals, those paragons of virtue, crushed and broken at his feet. Sabbac held particular enmity for his old nemesis Captain Marvel Jr., but ultimately, all of the Marvels and their allies would grovel before him.
Especially Ibis. Since his most recent imprisonment, Sabbac had nourished a growing resentment for that hero. It was Ibis whose power kept him imprisoned here, whose wards would not allow him to summon his demonic patrons, even if he could somehow scrounge the necessary materials. Even without the power of Sabbac, Karnes would have been far more dangerous if he had his mystical powers at his command. Then he would have shown these fools of guards the horrors of hell itself, before sending them there personally.
Timothy Karnes allowed himself a sadistic smile, his rage simmering slow and strong in his breast. What he wanted most of all was to see all his years of study in the dark arts bear fruit. He had sold his soul, his loyalty, and nearly everything else for power. He had killed his own master, the sorcerer Felix Faust, after he had learned the old man’s secrets. It was this quest for power that had first led him to perform the costly ritual in 1940 wherein he summoned forth six of the most infernal demons of hell and persuaded them to empower him and make him their champion against the weak and useless forces of good.
One day I will rise again. I waited over forty years in this prison for my vengeance on the marvel family. I can easily wait another forty years or longer. One day, when they least expect it, I will reunite the forces of evil under my rule, and then the whole world will bow before the power of hell, and the feet of Sabbac.
Then the lights went out.
In fact, the cell, the hall outside, and from the sounds of panicked yelling and running, most of the cellblock had been plunged into impenetrable, inky blackness. Karnes’ smile grew broader. He knew there could only be one source for such a light-devouring cloud.
Help had arrived.
The sounds of the frantic guards trying to find their way around or get their flashlights to work was suddenly joined by electric cracks, like striking lightning bolts, and the screams of men being electrocuted. Seconds later, the darkness receded from Karnes’ cell and the hallway immediately outside it.
Looking in through the bars with a smug smirk on his wiry features was an old colleague of Sabbac’s. He wore a left-breasted red uniform in a military style, with high brown boots, a yellow belt and a green cape that hung down from his turned up collar to his knees. The front of his uniform was adorned with a skull and crossbones.
“Well?” Karnes snarled at Master Man “What are you waiting for? Release me, you incompetent oaf! Do you expect me to just walk out with you? The cursed Ibis’s spell prevents me from making a sound when I try to say S_____, else I would already be gone.”
Master Man crossed his arms and gave a contemptuous laugh. “Who’s the incompetent? You, once the mighty Sabbac, languish behind bars after you failed as a lowly lackey to the pretentious Black Pharaoh, while I have reorganized the great Confederation of Hell under my leadership.”
“You must free me!” Unless you mean to kill me, a desperate thought answered. “You need my power to achieve the final victory. The Marvels and their allies are too powerful to face alone!”
“Spoken like a broken coward.” Master Man was enjoying this needling, but all pleasant things must end eventually. It was imperative that they all be gone before any heroes arrived to stop them. He had sent several deceased villains to set up distractions earlier, but they dared not tarry more than a few minutes. “Still, you are correct. I do need the power of Sabbac for my scheme. Now that I am sure you understand who leads and will lead the Confederation, I will liberate you. Stygia!”
A column of spectral fire burst from the floor, vanishing again without leaving a mark. In its place stood a man with unruly dark hair dressed in a creamy white toga. He wore numerous amulets around his neck, and many ornate armbands.
“Simon Magnus,” Master Man commanded, “of the countless dark sorcerers at my command, I have chosen you. Lift the spell restraining Sabbac at once!”
“I must obey, though it will be difficult.” The evil magician stroked his beard. “Though I am almost without peer, even I will only be able to lift the spell of the Ibistick for a few moments.”
“That will be sufficient, begin!”
The wizard raised his arms toward the waiting Sabbac and began to chant in the dead language of magic. “Sapitan doreh saidoreh niac marohej khclemiba tol lebezej hahthpej doreh sunag toiracsi saduj!”
For a moment, Sabbac felt as if an invisible shackle had been removed from his mouth. Seeing the sweat pouring from Simon’s face, he wasted not a second. “Sabbac!”
At the sound of the magic word, a bolt of black lightning burst from the floor and transformed Timothy Karnes. His wiry form now seemed infused with inner strength; his prison cloths had been transformed into a flowing green acolyte’s robe. With a wild laugh he ripped the steel bars off of the door as if they were made of tin foil, and stood facing Master Man, who had by now dismissed the infernal sorcerer.
While the ceremony was going on, a blond woman in a back bodysuit wrapped in lightning designs, and a silvery-haired woman in a long black dress had joined their leader.
“We must go at once,” the silver-haired girl said “I feel one with the power of Shazam trying to break through my barrier.”
“No one opponent can challenge us!” roared Sabbac, flushed with arrogant confidence at the return of his powers and freedom.
“The courage of Asmodeus will be your downfall Sabbac. Darkling is right. I will transport us to our secret headquarters, where you will learn the full genius of my plan. Stygia!”
In a column of hellfire, the Confederation vanished leaving a few prison guards, a dozen police officers, and one very frustrated Cool Marvel to pick up the pieces.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 2
Almost two hours later in the same day, a young man stood in a concrete square with his back to an elegant fountain, facing one of the most imposing edifices in New York City. It was not the Empire State Building. Though much more recent, the great domed hall with its glass front and golden globe over the door had already become one of the greatest attractions in the city, attracting dozens of visitors to see the trophies of the Squadron of Justice.
It was the Hall of Justice, and the young man was no tourist.
Marvin Wyman was a bit self-conscious of the fact that everyone must be staring at him. He was dressed in a long sleeved blue tunic and belt, with matching pants and gloves. The chest was red, and a cape and cowl covering all but the lower half of his face was attached at the shoulders.
The visitors to the Squadron of Justice’s trophy rooms (the public, low security portion available on guided tours) politely avoided him. In that outfit, they figured he was either a superhero, and therefore had business with the Squadron, or else he was a supervillain preparing to attack. If that was the case, better not to attract his attention.
Dad, why didn’t you tell me how awkward this feels the first time? He thought, still working up the courage to enter.
Marvin was the heir of a heroic legacy, though it seemed nobody but he cared. His father was a costumed crime fighter in the 40s called the Devil’s Dagger, who had retired in the late fifties and gotten married. Marvin was the youngest of four brothers, widely separated in age.
All four sons shared their father’s love for justice, but only Marvin wanted to be a superhero. Dick and Jeffery thought costumes were foolish. They were heading for careers in politics and police work respectively.
As for Jordan, he lived in a world of abstract formulas and subatomic particles. Science was his life, and he had little interest in anything else.
As often happens, Marvin was the runty brother, always tagging along and trying to interest people in things which they politely told him were juvenile. Only Ken Wyman nurtured his son’s dreams of being a superhero. While he didn’t really see a need for a new Devil’s Dagger, he didn’t want it to be so easily cast aside and forgotten.
Ken Wyman taught his son everything he knew, and Marvin had soaked it up like a sponge. The only thing he put his foot down on was the costume. Ken freely admitted that the tuxedo, top hat, and domino mask were relics of another age of heroes. They designed his current costume with a sleeker, more modern look.
After training for three years, Marvin felt ready. He saw the broadcast by Billy Batson saying that all young heroes seeking training should present themselves on the weekend at the Hall of Justice. Ken wanted his son to wait.
"A fifteen-year-old has no place fighting crime! At least wait till you’ve actually solved a case."
Marvin hated arguing with his Dad, so he didn’t. That night, he snuck out.
This, he thought, is my big day. Summoning up the confident demeanor he had practiced, he walked into the Hall.
In the sunny, vaulted atrium just inside the glass doors he was almost immediately met by a young man about his own age, wearing a loose white shirt and blue pants, with a long red sash tied at his waist. The young man had been sitting at a desk facing the door, but on seeing Marvin he had risen quickly and stepped around it to greet this costumed teen.
“Hi! I guess you’re here for the superhero training course? I’m Kid Eternity.”
Kid Eternity! He wasn’t as famous as the Marvels or anything, but Marvin had heard of him. Here was a genuine superhero. Not retired like dad, but active. Quick, gotta say something impressive. “Uh, I’m the Dagger. My dad was the Devil’s Dagger.” Okay good start. He had decided at the last minute to shorten his father’s codename to just the Dagger. Devil’s Dagger sounded a little too sinister for a hero. Besides, it was a mouthful.
“Really? That’s swell! I never worked with him, but I heard good thing about him during the war.” The Kid was a lot older than he appeared, though he still came off like a teenager. That thought did nothing to help the Dagger feel any less awkward and self-conscious. “I guess that answers the question of how you were inspired to become a superhero. Have you had any cases yet?”
“Well, actually, this is my first time in costume.” Drawing himself up, Marvin concentrated on his dad’s advice. A hero never looks back. “I’ve been training for three years though.”
“Great!” said the Kid. “I need to ask though, why do you particularly want to be a superhero. If the answer is personal, I’m sorry I asked. I’ll still let you try out though. Some of us heroes don’t like telling our origins.” Kit Freeman happened to be one of those, so he understood.
“It’s fine, really. It’s not, like, traumatic or anything. I guess you mean, aside from honoring dad’s career?” Marvin thought for a moment. “I guess I’ve always wanted to help people; like my dad did, in ways normal people can’t. When he told us stories of the old days, it showed me that when one person dedicates himself to fighting evil, he can do a lot.”
Kit began to smile. In his opinion, underneath the understandable nerves, this young man had a sense of rightness and conviction. “Then what you need is practice, and this is the place to get it. Come on down to the practice room and let’s see what you can do”
Marvin was a little hesitant about this part. “I, uh, I don’t know if I should mention this. But I don’t actually have. . . you know. . . superpowers.” Great, just great, got yourself rejected in less than ten minutes. Won’t dad be proud when you come home? Without superpowers, he might as well be an athlete in a Halloween costume to these guys.
Surprisingly, Kid Eternity laughed out loud. “Oh man, the number of times I have heard that!” he caught his breath and continued “This isn’t some comic book like the Legion of Super-Heroes you know. Some members of the Squadron of Justice don’t have powers. Neither did your dad if I remember correctly.” He put an arm around Marvin’s shoulders and guided him toward one of the front hall’s many doors. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of the other hopefuls who arrived earlier. They’re just trying out the practice room.”
As they passed through the security doors and down several brightly-lit hallways Kid Eternity continued to explain. “I suppose it’s reasonable to suppose that, after Billy’s announcement, we’d be drowning in cranks claiming to be superheroes with nothing to show for it. I admit that was pretty much what I was expecting when I accepted the job of instructor.”
“I guess the fact that the announcement was endorsed by the Squadron members in person scared off all but the serious applicants. So far, I’ve only had to turn away a few folks, mostly because they didn’t seem to have the inner motivation to be a hero.” He paused here to give the Dagger an appraising glance. “I think you have that. Add a little confidence and experience and you’ll go far.”
The Dagger was already feeling more relaxed as they entered the secure sector of the Hall. Then they passed through an airlock of reinforced glass doors and his eyes goggled.
“Well,” Kit said with pride, raising his voice a little over the din of combat, “What do you think? Bulletman and Zoro did most of the designing. The room is supposed to simulate any kind of threat or obstacle heroes may have to deal with one day. Once they got started, they couldn’t stop coming up with new ideas for challenges until every square inch of space and then some was used up.”
They were looking from a sheltered, inset doorway into an auditorium-size cubical room that echoed with the sounds of battle. Automatic energy weapons sprouted seemingly at random from the walls and ceiling. All were firing on a pair of flying figures locked in battle with an army of robot drones. The robots were identical, all about five feet high with three large wheels, four arms, and half a dozen energy weapons each. They were pouring out of several small doors along the three blank walls.
The first figure was a girl who looked a few years older than Marvin, dressed in surprisingly form fitting pilot fatigues and a goggled helmet, she was flying around the room in short bursts, propelled by a small, streamlined, grey jet pack. After each burst and aerial maneuver, she would alight on one of the many square shelves that emerged and retracted from the walls. As Marvin watched, she did an aerial somersault and, landing on one of the projections, whipped out an automatic weapon from her chest-holster and sprayed down a dozen of the drones. Instead of the expected bullets, each robot was hit with a white patch that sparked with electricity. Some kind of taser, he guessed.
The other figure was a guy, dressed in a blue and yellow bodysuit with golden gloves and blue boots. His face was concealed behind a golden helmet with only slits for eyes, and he wore a golden amulet with a blue scarab on a chain across his chest. As he soared back and forth across the room, narrowly dodging the hailstorm of energy bolts, he pelted the robots with blasts of shimmering golden energy from his hands. However, this was doing little good, since more robots were spawned as fast as the old ones were destroyed. Suddenly, the helmeted man must have flown too low, since a pack of robots managed to snare him in their long arms and drag him toward the mob below.
“Captain Scarab, get it together!” Kid Eternity called across the room. “I know you’ve been practicing new spells, try a different tactic before you get too tired.”
Across the room, young Kent Nelson struggled to throw the robot off of him with his superstrength, while trying to remember some of the new spells he’d been cramming. Despite the natural aptitude his helmet gave him, learning magic the normal way was tough. He sometimes thought longingly of how easy it was when his helmet automatically fed him all the mystic knowledge and fighting skills he needed. But his dad, Ibis, had determined there was a danger the helmet would begin to control his mind. He had put safeguards on it so that, while Kent could access the power of Nabu’s weapons, they could not touch his mind.
Of course, that meant he needed to go into training. And right now he was not making a very good show of himself.
With a mighty shrug, Captain Scarab threw off the three robots still holding him and gained altitude. Once he had a clear view of all the robot-doors, he decided to try a spell he had memorized the other night, which had sounded useful against multiple targets.
Singin aitof xu
Meced aked nhez
Soded stgiod atid
At once, ten fireballs burst from his gloved fingertips and flew at the doors, growing as they went. As each door was hit, its spawning mechanism shut down, deeming the threat to have been “destroyed.”
“Aww shucks, Kent! And just when I was starting to have fun.” Phantom Eagle snapped a fresh clip of gimmicked ammo into her personally-designed pistol and finished off the last few robots with a spray of explosive pellets.
“Good shooting Micki, but don’t show off. Remember, you’ve had more experience than Kent.” Indeed, not only was Micki Malone the oldest trainee so far, she had been trained by her dad to fly, fight, and tinker with machines since she could walk. It’ll be good for her to have somebody human to practice with particularly someone who has trained nearly as hard as she has, Kit thought. Better to stamp out their overconfidence here than risk them going into battle half-cocked. “Everyone, this is our newest recruit, the Dagger.”
“Uh, Hi guys. . . and girls,” he added quickly, as Phantom Eagle cocked her eyebrow in a warning fashion. Don’t want to start off on the wrong foot. These were his teammates after all. From what he had just seen, he was glad they were on the same team.
“Glad to meet you!” said Kent, warmly shaking the newcomer’s hand. “I’m Captain Scarab, but you can call me Kent.” Still panting slightly under his helmet from the hard workout, Captain Scarab nonetheless tried to be as friendly as possible.
“Likewise,” said Micki shaking this new teammate’s hand (with a bit more reserve) after she had caught her breath. This new hero seemed a little young to her. “In costume I’m the Phantom Eagle, like my Dad, but I guess you can call me Micki.”
“Great!” said the Dagger “I’m Marvin. You’re dad was a hero too wasn’t he?”
“Yea” she brightened up “the original Phantom Eagle. You’ve heard of him?”
“Sure, my dad used to tell me stories about the heroes of the forties and fifties, to motivate me during training.”
“I get that,” said Kent. “My dad, my adoptive dad anyway, always uses examples like El Carim when he’s helping me study magic.”
This made the Dagger curious. “So your dad is. . .”
“Ibis the Invincible”
Marvin didn’t really know how to answer that. Compared to Ibis, his dad was a forgotten hero.
“So,” Micki said, breaking the spell, “what exactly can you do?”
Before Marvin had a chance to answer, Kid Eternity spoke out. “I think now would be a good time to figure that out. Feel up to using the equipment Dagger?”
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 3
Over an hour later Kid Eternity watched from the glass observation booth as all three of his new recruits wove through a variety of moving obstacles while avoiding automated weapons and robots. Occasionally, he would call out instruction, mostly to show them where they could help each other out.
"Teamwork will come in time my boy," said Mr. Keeper, before floating off to the ceiling. Although his presence was necessary for Kit to be visible, he was keeping his involvement minimal during this “growing experience.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kit noticed the emergency alarm flashing on one of the monitors. Frowning, he walked quickly over and switched on the monitor screen. The computer was picking up a news broadcast from Mexico, saying that Sabbac was tearing up some Mayan ruins and the Mexican military authorities had already taken casualties.
This is bad. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than the screen split into two scenes, and then into four. A cloud of darkness emanating from a woman in a black dress had covered Granada in Spain, Chinese soldiers on Mount Tai reported they were under attack by a woman throwing lightning bolts, and the city of Jerusalem was apparently being overrun by Crusaders from the 11th century.
“I take it back” he voiced aloud. “This is VERY bad.” He didn’t need to refer to their criminal database to figure out what the threat was. This bore all the earmarks of one of the most terrible supervillain gangs in the world, the Confederation of Hell.
Shazam had been warning them for some time that the Confederation was moving in secret, but there couldn’t be a worse time for them to finally crawl out from under their rocks. Nobody was officially on monitor duty, since Isis had summoned the membership to deal with a massive fire in the northwest. They still hadn’t gotten back yet. . .
. . . Which, in and of itself, was strange. Kid Eternity used the monitor board to sound out an emergency call for all active members of the Squadron to proceed to the four trouble spots, but got no answer. He watched the monitors for a few moments, but the situation got worse, not better.
As a guest, and not a member himself, Kit had only limited access to the computer system. He had no way to contact any of the allies of the Squadron, even if they were not already trapped. He was certain that there was nothing coincidental about the Squadron being decoyed and disappearing right before the Confederation struck.
What do I do? Kit could try and locate the Squadron on his own, but with no idea where to start, it was probable that the Confederation’s plan would succeed before he did.
Of course, there was. . . another option. . . but he would have to be crazy to consider it. They’ve been practicing together for all of, what, two hours! And now I’m thinking about sending them to fight the likes of the Confederation of Hell. It would be murder!
On the other hand, Phantom Eagle and the Dagger had been training for years, just not in combat. And Captain Scarab had fought a supervillain before (with a lot of help, he reminded himself).
When it came right down to it, he had no choice. Just like in the war, you had to draft whoever was available in a crisis. Kit hadn’t had any more experience when he had started his career in 1942. They were not children, they were young men and women who chose to fight supervillains. They all knew they would face a baptism by fire like this soon, just maybe not this soon.
Keep maintained a stoic expression. Kit was on his own. Walking over to the speaker he deactivated the room. “Kent, Marvin, Micki, report to the briefing room on the double. We have a global emergency.”
* * *
They took the announcement better then Kit Freeman expected.
“We’re going to what!” said Captain Scarab. Although his face was concealed, his voice clearly indicated he was anxious. Phantom Eagle stood stiffly with pursed lips, her fingers gunfighter-flexing over her holster. Although only his chin was exposed, the Dagger seemed to pale a little, and he also stood tensely.
“Listen” said Kid Eternity, his voice serious and level. “I wouldn’t send you into this if I didn’t feel you were capable. Just think of this as a field training exercise.” He paused and watched as the trainees suppressed their nerves with steely determination. He was proud of them. They knew the stakes, and they were ready to try, even if it was their first day on the job.
The Kid continued. “I’ve set two of the jets on autopilot, one to take Phantom Eagle to Granada.” He faced her “Micki, you’ll be fine. Darkling’s only power is the ability to create darkness. Just remember that she usually has thugs with her, and she can control who can see in her blackout and who can’t, so it won’t bother them.”
“I’ve got something in my supplies that might help with that.” Micki replied with a quick nod.
“The other jet,” the Kid continued “Is for you, Dagger, and it’ll take you to Mt. Tai in the PRC. Keep on your toes when avoiding Chain Lightning’s electric bolts. She has two weaknesses. First, she doesn’t generate her own power. She stores it like a battery, so you can keep her fighting until she runs down.”
The Dagger took a moment to imagine himself jumping around for hours dodging lightning bolts. “What’s the OTHER option?”
“Well, if you feel up to it, you could try to play on her mental instability. Chain Lighting has four different personalities, only two of which are evil. If she says she’s Amber, just keep calling her Amy.”
As the other two heroes raced to the jets, Kid Eternity finished giving instructions to Captain Scarab. “Kent, I need you to fly to the ruins in the Yucatan and deal with Sabbac. I know.” He held up his hand, forestalling the arguments he knew were coming. “You had help from the helmet when you fought Black Adam, but you’re the only one powerful enough to fight Sabbac and win. I’ve got to handle Master Man myself. I can’t delegate that.”
After a long pause, Captain Scarab nodded. “I’ll make you proud.” He said, meaning not just his teacher, but also his adopted father Ibis the Invincible.
Kit opened the large skylight, designed by Bulletman for the convenience of the Squadron’s flying members. Bearing south west (measured by the compass points inscribed around the domed exit) Captain Scarab took the course that the computer said would bring him to Sabbac fastest, as the crow flies.
Kit Freeman spoke his magic word “Eternity!” and transformed into a ghost. In this form he could travel through the spirit world and reach Jerusalem in minutes.
“Well, Keep,” he asked the chubby, robed spirit flying beside him as the world faded into pale mist “Let’s show Master Man and his thugs that the first class of the Hero Academy can take on anything evil can dish out.”
“You know Kit, I like that name. I’m sure they’ll pass with flying colors.”
There was nothing more to be said, as the mist was resolving itself into shapes again. Kid Eternity mentally prepared himself for battle with his arch enemy.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 4
Kid Eternity had programmed the Squadron jet to set Phantom Eagle down right in the center of the sphere of darkness, since it was likely that that was where Darkling would be.
The moment the door of the ship opened, the darkness enveloped Micki in a wave. Unfazed, she reached into her vest and produced a large pair of goggles. Not ordinary infrared glasses, instead something special she had developed working in the barn workshop behind her father’s house.
During the war and later, in the late 40s and early 50s, the original Phantom Eagle had occasionally worked alongside another pilot named Captain Midnight. Midnight’s secret was a device called the radarscope, which combined multiple different invisible light-based scanners into one image. Inspired by her father’s stories of the device, Micki had created a (admittedly bulky) pair of goggles which combined radar and infrared to give her a fairly clear image, even in total darkness.
Leaping onto the deserted square, she scanned the scene. There were six or seven burly shapes walking around. Local thugs, just like Kid Eternity said. They were setting up some kind of braziers at different corners of the square. A slender shape with long hair and a dress was sitting on the roof of an abandoned car, calling out instructions; Darkling herself, no doubt.
Phantom Eagle couldn’t help noticing all the bodies sprawled around the edges of the square, where they’d clearly been dragged. She devoutly hoped they were only unconscious and not dead.
Better make this quick, she thought confidently. Racing across the square, she drew her gun and snapped off two shots in rapid succession from the hip. The taser bullets found their mark and two thugs went down like tenpins. Two down, five to go.
“What, another intruder still running around? Get her you fools, she must not stop the preparations!” Darkling shrieked.
The next two thugs closed in too fast. Micki holstered her gun with her right hand while snapping out with her left. She stepped into the punch, and the first goon took it directly on the chin. He went out like a light.
“Hey, she can see!” yelled the second in Spanish as he went for his gun. He couldn’t stop his forward momentum, however, when Micki stuck out her leg and tripped him. He went headfirst into the ornate marble fountain, losing his gun as he slumped to the flagstones.
Four down. Feeling a little less cocky after her near miss, Phantom Eagle risked a minute to catch her breath. This was her first time fighting living enemies. She was just noticing how sore the knuckles on her left hand felt.
The last two thugs were apparently unarmed or maybe wearing brass knuckles. It was hard to tell contrast with her radar-goggles. Confronted with a costumed hero, who seemed immune to their greatest weapon, they had fallen back to Darkling’s position and kept glancing nervously between her, Phantom Eagle, and their fallen comrades. Their boss however, had regained her cool.
“So you can still see? Those goggles I suppose. Some sort of infrared vision?” She threw back her head and laughed. “You overconfident girl! Don’t you think that’s been tried before? My darkforce shields can block Captain Marvel’s lighting. No light, visible or invisible, is beyond my mystic power to silence.”
And just like that, the lights went out.
The next few minutes were a blur for Micki. She tried to fight, but was completely disoriented by the sudden darkness. The goons took full advantage of this, and drove her to the ground with several severe blows. Things might have gone worse if she hadn’t instinctively fallen back on her father’s survival training. If all else fails, he had said, play dead.
Letting her limbs fall limb, she collapsed to the cobblestones, gaining at least one more bruise on the way. One of the thugs gave her a kick before Darkling yelled for them to finish their fun and get back to work. Micki wanted to stop them, but her body did not feel like moving.
After a minute, the darkness vanished and some Spanish policemen arrived to help her to her ship. The villains were gone, and each of the five braziers was surrounded with a force field. The police told her many times how grateful they were that she had tried to help, but all the new Phantom Eagle could think about as she nursed her injuries on the trip back to New York was how disappointed Kid Eternity would be that she failed her first mission.
* * *
Magic was a very reliable way to travel. Once Kent willed himself to go in a particular direction, he needed to do very little to correct his course.
It was painfully obvious when he had reached the scene of Sabbac’s latest rampage. Once, this isolated Mayan temple had attracted a trickle of interested tourists, despite its remote location. Now, throngs of reporters and bystanders pressed against the perimeter the Mexican army had set up around the vine-covered stone structure.
Within that perimeter was a battlefield of wrecked cars, uprooted trees, and uncontrolled fires. Sabbac had apparently taken great pleasure in clearing the area so he would not be disturbed. A few shell marks in the ground told of the military’s attempt to stop the villain, but they seemed to have given up
Time to give them some hope. Swooping in low over the temple, Captain Scarab called out “Sabbac, you coward! Come out and fight, unless you only like bullying tourists.” Kent tried to infuse bravery into his challenge, but his voice broke a little at the end. It wasn’t noticeable, however, as his helmet gave everything he said an ominous echo.
In response, a green-robed figure burst through the roof of the temple. Sabbac hovered for a moment, eying his adversary like an annoying beetle. “I don’t know who you are,” he snarled to the superhero, “but before I’m done it won’t matter, because nobody will be able to identify your corpse!”
Kent barely had time to raise the shield spell he always kept ready before Sabbac was on him in a flurry of fists. The air in front of his face flicked with cracked orange after-images of the invisible barrier, even as the force of each blow drove the flying hero further backward.
Drawing on the strength of his magic scarab, Kent tried to match his opponent blow for blow. But although his forcefield magnified his punches slightly, he was still not strong enough to hurt the satanic supervillain. His counterattack slowed Sabbac’s down, but didn’t stop it.
Captain Scarab saw the cracks in his shield getting larger faster; he only had seconds until it failed completely. I need to go on the offensive, now! With the words “Elle Alis!” he broke off the fight and clapped his hands together. Instead of a mild clap, a wave of explosive sonic force blasted out like a bomb. Kent was unaffected, but Sabbac was sent hurtling into a slab of rock on the ground below.
“How ‘bout an early trip to the hot seat Sabbac?” Kent called out as he swooped, pressing his advantage while his foe was disoriented. “Singi Aidihcra!” he called using one of his favorite spells to throw down fireballs at his enemy.
This did not have the expected effect, however. As Captain Scarab touched down so he could poor more power into the attack, he realized that not only had Sabbac regained his bearings, he was standing unfazed and laughing.
“You think you can burn me? My body is full of the power of Beelzebub himself, master of the Hellfires!”
“I think you’re just full of hot air.” The young hero quipped back as he began to gather his power for another concussive blast. The last one just barely fazed Sabbac maybe a few more would do the trick.
Sabbac, however, had lost patience with this fight. “I’m no thug, little wizard. If you want to fight with magic, I’ll oblige!” as Kent hurried to form his spell, Sabbac slashed the air and cried “Oren naitimod suilerua sucram!”
Captain Scarab was bowled over by what felt like a combination of a sandstorm, a hurricane, and a forest fire. It swirled around his fallen form, dissolving away his shields, so he had to pour all his strength into them just to keep them up.
“When the vortex of pain finally eats through your shields do-gooder, you’ll suffer such agony you’ll die of shock.” He sneered cruelly. “I’d dearly love to stay and watch, but the preparations here are finally complete, and I don’t want to miss the final ceremony of alignment.” With that parting remark, he took to the sky and flew north.
Got to think fast. Maintaining the shield was growing impossible. Wait, this is a spell of suffering, so maybe a spell of healing will stop it.
He knew he would only get one shot. Diverting what power he needed, Kent suddenly dropped the shields and sprayed the hurricane of pain with spells of regeneration, purification, and, most importantly, pain relief. Fortunately, his father had insisted he learn plenty of these, since his teammates would often need him to heal them in a fight.
And it was working! Instead of surging forward, the angry red sandstorm recoiled back, with each spell it dissolved a little more until there was nothing left.
Kent stood exhausted while the Mexican police investigated the scene. He was elated to be alive, but more than a little shaken by his brush with horrible death. As soon as he was strong enough, Captain Scarab began a wobbly flight back to New York City.
* * *
The first thing the Dagger noticed as his ship approached Mt. Tai was that the Chinese army had not yet given up the fight. Although they were no longer sending men up the slope, it was pockmarked by smoking craters left by artillery shells. “I just hope they don’t try shooting while I’m down there.” He spoke out loud in an attempt to calm his nerves.
The flier touched down amidst the shattered rocked and sulfurous haze. Marvin dived from the door and began to weave toward his target in a sniper’s trot, his cape billowing out behind, the dark colors blending in to the background.
Chain Lighting was easy to find. He just followed the bright flashes. The villainess of voltage seemed torn between setting up an arrangement of braziers and occult symbols, and hurling lightning bolts at the troops trying to scale the hill. The last barrage had sent them into retreat, leaving the remains of their comrades behind.
The Dagger tried not to look.
The retreat made little difference to Chain Lightning, who was still ranting and firing off shots. For a gal who doesn’t generate her own power, she sure spends it quickly. He though. Good, maybe tiring her out will be easy.
Still, he was going to try the safe way first. “Amy!” he called out, trying to sound calm while projecting his voice over the din “Listen! I’m a friend. See?” he stepped out from behind the jagged rocks “I don’t look like the people trying to kill you, do I?” Keeping his hands raised in a non-threatening manner, Marvin began to walk slowly toward her.
Chain Lightning spun around with a look of mixed shock and bewilderment. After over an hour of fighting off Chinese troops, trying to follow Master Man’s orders and (quite literally) arguing with herself, this was an approach she was unprepared for.
For a moment, the Dagger thought he would be able to settle this without fighting. Then he saw the look of confusion fade into raw rage, and had just enough time to dodge before a lightning bolt blasted the rock to pebbles where his feet had been.
“There is no Amy here!!” the electronic evildoer ranted, chasing him around the rocks with more bolts.
OK, so much for the easy way. It was time to employ some of his signature weapons.
Reaching into one of the compartments in the belt, he pulled out a collapsible throwing knife with a hollow blade of extra-thin metal. When he threw it, the chemicals in the blade turned into an inky black cloud filling the area. Smoke-screen knife will blind her. Then I can get in close and take her down fast.
However, he had taken less than three steps in her direction before a bright light began to dispel the murk. Somehow, Chain Lightning was channeling her power through her skin, like a lightbulb filament. Hey, nobody said she could do that!
Abandoning plan B (or was it C?) he tossed another knife. This one burst over her head into a tungsten fiber net. “Let’s see you get out of that, bright girl! The conductive netting will contain any electricity you can throw out.”
And it did, for a minute or two anyway. Just as Marvin was congratulating himself on his first defeated supervillain, he noticed that Chain Lightning’s glow was getting brighter. . . MUCH brighter.
Uh-oh, he thought, just before the net burst into a spray of hot, shiny metal droplets. There was nowhere to dive for cover, so Marvin hunkered down under his cape. It was designed by his dad to be acid proof, fire proof, shock proof, and able to serve as a bomb blanket.
He had just enough time to notice a buildup of static and think about his father saying “gloating is for supervillains, that’s why they lose,” before a sudden shock raced through his body and he blacked out.
He woke up under the ministrations of a Chinese medic. Apparently, the fact he was wrapped in a bleeding-edge shock proof costume had saved him from death, and Chain Lightning hadn’t bothered to confirm he was killed. According to Colonel Liu, when Chain Lightning had apparently finished whatever she was doing, she had disappeared and a force field appeared around the occult articles she set up.
After thanking his medic and the colonel, who also gave him a report on everything they tried to break the force field, the Dagger grimly boarded his craft and told the autopilot to go home.
Maybe that’s what I should do, go home. Maybe dad was right. Maybe I am too young for this.
* * *
Jerusalem was a scene of chaos. Crowds of people screamed in panic and raced away from the center of town, closely pursued by 11th century knights on horseback that seemed determined to run the unarmed civilians through. Hordes of medieval pikemen and swordsmen on foot patrolled the streets around the Dome of the Rock, robbing and killing anybody they found.
And atop the Dome. . .
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Master Man laughed as he watched the pandemonium below. “I felt so sorry for all those crusaders who died before they had a chance to loot the Holy Land. They seem to be making up for lost time now!” He laughed again. “O how I enjoy heresy. There’s nothing quite like evil done in the name of good.”
Meanwhile, Kid Eternity materialized on the street below. “I think it’s time to teach these so-called knights the true meaning of chivalry.” He called out “Eternity!” and the street was filled in a cloud of white mist with another legion of knights, this time dressed in the arms and armor of eighth century France. At their head was a man over six feet tall who sat on his horse with regal bearing, wearing the arms of the Carolingian royal house.
“Charlemagne, you invented knighthood. For God and Honor, show these Crusaders why you were one of the Nine Worthies of Christendom.”
As the knights immortalized in the Matter of France drove the bloodthirsty marauders away, Master Man spoke his word and materialized face to face with his arch foe in the court in front of the Muslim holy site.
“I hoped you wouldn’t fall into the trap we set for the Squadron of Justice, my old enemy.” The malevolent mastermind gloated. “Now I’ll have the pleasure of destroying you myself! Stygia!”
In a column of hellfire, a gaunt, middle-eastern man dressed in loose white robes and a white turban appeared. He had a curved knife in each hand, and was flanked by half a dozen other men dressed and armed the same way.
“Hassan-i Sabbah and his finest Hashshashins will make short work of you.” The evil doer mocked, as the murderous figures encircled the boy in blue and white.
Kit had less than a minute to summon help. “Eternity!” he called, even as the assassins sprung. . .
Only to have their blades checked in mid flight by the rapiers and daggers of four French Royal Musketeers of the 17th century.
“Allons-y comrades!” cried D'Artagnan “Let us show these Mohammedan murderers true skill with a blade.”
Despite being outnumbered, the Musketeers were better armed and equally skillful as the assassins, and as the warriors battled back and forth across the open court in front of the Dome the tide of battle began to turn in favor of the forces of good.
Meanwhile, Kid Eternity move between the fighters and closed on his arch enemy.
“Meddlesome brat! I’ll summon the most horrendous of monsters to kill you. Styg…!”
Before he could finish his magic word, the kid knocked him flat on his back with a punch to the face.
“I was trained in boxing by John L. Sullivan, in case you forgot.” He cracked his knuckles. “So what’s it going to be, Master Man? Are to brave enough to fight me one-on-one?” Kit was not normally so aggressive, but he had an ulterior motive. With the way this fight was escalating, civilian casualties would be high if they both kept summoning worse and worse threats to battle. Master Man wouldn’t care about innocent lives, but Kit was confident he was too egotistical to back down from a challenge.
His knowledge of his foe paid off. With a snarl, the villain leapt on his foe. “I’ll tear you limb from limb, boy!” He suddenly dropped on one knee and tossed the Kid over his shoulder. Kit only just missed hitting his head on a stone step. “You think your Sullivan idea was unique? I was trained by Commodus Caesar.” He leaped for the Kid’s throat.
Kid Eternity deflected him with a roll, simultaneously rising to his feet. The two old foes began to spar back and forth, working their way into the main chamber of the Dome. All the guards and caretakers had long-since fled, though they would soon return now that the resurrected spirits had vanished.
Something strange seemed to be happening. Kit knew, on an intellectual level, that his adrenaline should be running high, and his heart racing with the exertion of this fight. Indeed, if it wasn’t for his years of practice, the more powerfully built Master Man would have triumphed quickly. Yet, the longer the fight went on, the more the he seemed to feel a growing sense of lethargy. Though he struck out, his punches felt like he was swimming in molasses, or moving in a dream. Master Man seemed strangely less interested in striking him now, then in keeping the same steady pace of the fight. Left and right, back and forth, again and again…”
Then, like a puppet with his strings cut, Kit’s arms dropped to his sides and he stood entranced. His mind struggled, but could not motivate his body to move, even to speak his magic word.
Master Man stood panting, but grinned with triumph anyway. “That took longer than you promised Rasputin.”
A man in black robes with a long, wild beard and blazing eyes stepped out from behind a pillar. He was a man the Kid had met before.
“The boy’s will was strong.” Grigori Rasputin said. “No matter though, my power proved stronger. He has been rendered helpless.”
“Excellent. Now be gone. Stygia!” As Rasputin vanished, Master Man studied his helpless enemy and rubbed his hands with glee.
“At last I have you helpless, and I can’t decide what to do!” He paced up and down. “I could summon up Qinshihuangdi and a band of horsemen to tear him limb from limb, or Nero and his soldiers to burn him alive.” He shook his head. “No, no, too quick. Maybe I’ll have the Marquis de Sade torture him slowly to death, or would Tomas de Torquemada be a better choice? Or maybe…”
Suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed. “What a fool I am! Why should I waste my time?” He turned to sneer and his enemy one last time before departing. “In less than a day, when the stars are right, my cohorts and I will bring the entire earth to Hell, and I’ll be able to torture you anyway I like for all eternity. Stygia!”
As Master Man vanished, Kid Eternity felt is ability to move return. He tried not to worry – after all, Master Man had escaped him before – but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the demonic dictator had meant what he said about sending earth to Hell literally.
After getting some advice from King Solomon about the mystic preparations the villain had set up, a failed attempt to breach the mystic forcefield, and questioning the local authorities for what little they knew. He spoke his magic word and began the journey home.
Who knows? He thought, maybe the trainees will have had better luck than I did.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 5
The attitude in the Hall of Justice was one of despair when Kid Eternity materialized. He noted in passing that none of the official Squadron members had yet to return, a most worrying sign.
The members of his newly-christened Hero Academy sat at the round conference table in the meeting hall despondently. Phantom Eagle was clearly nursing several bruises, and the Dagger looked like he’d recently suffered a bad electric shock. Only Captain Scarab seemed unhurt, though plainly shaken. None of them had prisoners.
The Kid squared his shoulders and stood at the head of the table. Sir Francis Drake had once told him that "a crew will never panic until the captain panics."
“Don’t waste time,” he began, cutting off a string of self-deprecation and even despair “telling me how you all messed up. Not one person in our business catches the bad guys on the first try, not even Captain Marvel. Report everything that happened in your fights, just the facts, and don’t leave anything out. The slightest detail may turn out to be crucial.”
Slowly at first, but gaining confidence under his coaching, each of the three young heroes related their encounters. All trailed off into embarrassed silence when they reached the end. Despite what Kit told them, they had all thought they would do better.
Kit’s opinion was quite different. “All of you did quite well, particularly for your first time on the street. First, you survived.” This, he thought, was his greatest fear. “Second, you limited civilian casualties by drawing the villains’ fire onto yourselves. That is our main job, to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
“We didn’t save everyone,” Mumbled Marvin.
“But no one died after you arrived.” The Kid maintained. “If you had been there sooner, maybe things would have been different. But if you keep thinking about what ifs and maybes, you’ll go nuts. You got there as fast as you could.”
“Finally,” he continued, “you brought back valuable intelligence, which matches the information I got from my investigation.”
"Both Sabbac and Master Man, and even Darkling, boasted that we would be suffering in Hell by tomorrow. Obviously they didn’t mean to kill us. I don’t know about you all…” he gave a small, quirky grin “… but hell is not my destination.” His expression sobered quickly. “Solomon confirmed my worst fears when he examined the occult preparations Master Man had set up in the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. The Confederation of Hell is forming a giant pentagram around the globe. Each site we fought them at is one ‘corner,’ just much bigger.”
“Why couldn’t we smash the equipment they set up?” asked Captain Scarab.
“That’s a good question. The way Solomon explained it, in a normal pentagram, all you have to do is scrape a chalk line or knock over a brazier and the whole spell falls apart. But this in this case, the ‘chalk lines” are band of invisible black magic circling the globe, and there’s so much power running through them that it forms an unbreakable shield around each point. It’s like trying to pull apart a live wire, or maybe pull out a brick from the base of a bridge.” Head nods from around the table indicated his audience was focused and understood the problem
“A normal pentagram,” he continued “opens a small portal to hell to let one, or at worst a handful, of demons through. This portal will be so big that the entire planet will pass right through.”
“That sounds a lot like what happened back in ’85, just when the Crisis was ending.” Phantom Eagle spoke up. She was referring to the brief period when all the earths were united, during which the Anti-Monitor opened a portal to the anti-matter universe large enough to swallow the entire planet. Only the heroes who had been to the dawn of time remembered the event, of course, but Captain Marvel had dictated a complete account into the Squadron archives for everyone to study.
“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was where Master Man got the idea,” added Kent. The whole idea of the spell both fascinated and horrified him. “It would have taken him at least two years to gather enough magical power to put something like this together. I’ll bet it set his Boss back a pretty penny too.” Even amidst the fear, he was beginning to feel more animated. At least now they understood what was going on. Maybe they could make a plan…
“But what can we do?” broke in Marvin. “We’re just kids! Just trainee heroes. We’re not supposed to go into action against big threats like this! We need to find the Squadron or. . . or something!”
“Listen!” Snapped Kit Freeman. In that instant, his presence seemed to fill the room. For a moment, everyone saw him, not just as a peer, but a hero who had been operating at least as long as most of the Marvels. “Captain Marvel stopped Dr. Sivana for the first time when he had had the cape less than 24 hours. Most of the members of the SOJ have similar stories.” He braced his knuckles on the table and met all their eyes in turn. “I don’t know where the other heroes are, I’m certain the Confederation are behind their disappearance. It’s too much of a coincidence. And we don’t have time to look for them; we need to take the fight to the enemy.”
Kid Eternity touched a button under the rim of the table, bringing up a world map in the wall-screen. There were four glowing points around the center, the four locations they had fought the Confederation.
“The fifth point of the pentagram has to be at these coordinates in the Arctic Circle.” A fifth point appeared in northern Greenland. “Solomon says that if we can destroy it before the planets align properly, all five points will be destroyed, and all the stockpiled black magic will dissipate harmlessly. And if we don’t waste anymore time, we’ll have about three hours to save the world."
“Now let’s get to the jets!”
Spurred by with new confidence, all the heroes raced from the meeting room. And on the way, thought the Kid, we’re going to do some serious strategizing.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 6
Once the silvery craft touched down on the snowy wastes of northern Greenland, the Hero Academy students poured out and quickly assessed the situation
The villains were nearby, but Master Man had summoned three ice giants out of Norse folklore to build a defensive ice wall around the final corner of the pentagram.
With his magic word, Kid Eternity summoned an elderly man in ancient Greek robes, along with a massive device of mirrors and levers.
“Alright Archimedes, let’s make things too hot for these ice-trolls.”
With an abrupt nod, the famous Greek inventor began pulling levers and bringing his mirrors into position. In seconds, a beam of blazing light had reduced the wall and three screaming frost giants to clouds of steam.
Master Man and his surprised cohorts were revealed, standing around the final mystic site.
“Pick a target and hit em’ hard team,” called the Kid. “Just like we planned, and don’t let up!”
As one, the heroes surged forward.
Captain Scarab rocketed into Sabbac, chanting under his breath. Just before impact his fists released an explosive blast which magnified the force of his superstrong, superfast attack. The satanic superman was sent spinning through the air, until he crashed deep in a snow drift a half-mile away.
In less than a second, however, he was free again, and fit to be tied. “You’ve pushed your luck too far wizardling! I will wait no longer. I’ll kill you here and now with my bare hands!”
As Sabbac charged, Captain Scarab flew southward at a slight angle, giving every appearance of fleeing in blind panic. Laughing manically, Sabbac set out to chase down his victim. “That’s it, you cowardly excuse for an apprentice, run! Run like you have some hope of escaping destruction.”
Kent didn’t waste time with words. There was a time for quips and a time for action. All during the chase he was chanting quietly, hoping that Sabbac would not realize what he was doing.
Dark storm clouds began to build overhead as Sabbac closed the last few feet.
Just before he could wrap his hands around the Captain’s throat… a lighting bolt broke from the clouds and stuck him from behind. Suddenly, where Sabbac the Evil had been flying, a stunned Timothy Karnes was plummeting.
He started to say his name “Sab…!” but shock and loss of breath had bought his magical opponent precious time.
Oicnelis ezeerf!
Karnes fell the next few feet in silence. When Kent caught him inches from the ground, the spell held him stiff as a board, unable to speak any magic word at all, or make any mystic gestures. Only his eyes were free to move, and they almost literally burned with hatred as they darted around.
During the trip down, Kid Eternity had talked to Kent about all the ways Captain Marvel Jr. had defeated Sabbac in the past. Back in 1943, Sabbac had dodged his own lightning bolt and used it to turn Freddy Freeman into Sabbac Junior. Captain Scarab figured it should work the other way too; a magic lightning bolt would turn Sabbac back into his human form.
As Captain Scarab took the most powerful member of the Confederation of Hell out of the picture, Phantom Eagle and the Dagger reached the villains on foot, running side by side.
“You break right, and I’ll go left, ’kay?” Micki said. Marvin signaled OK with his left hand while pulling out two daggers with his right.
Just as they reached their targets, Phantom Eagle sprayed the snow in front of Darkling with flare bullets, while Dagger landed two explosive Concussion Daggers in front of Chain Lightning. Both villains were left stunned and dazzled. Standing in the rear, even Master Man was knocked off his feet. The two student heroes split off in opposite directions.
“Get them! Kill those over-grown sidekicks. But leave Kid Eternity to me!” snarled Master Man as he regained his feet. His two henchwomen were already off and running, probably not even listening to him.
The Dagger put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly to catch Chain Lightning’s attention. When the blonde battery turned to catch sight of the caped hero, he called out “Hey, dim-bulb! Catch me if you can!” then took to his heels. He made sure to weave back and forth among the snow drifts in what his dad called a “sniper’s walk,” a trick used in the military to keep an enemy from drawling a bead on his target.
And it was working. Lightning bolts struck all around, sometimes vaporizing mounds of snow he had been behind moments before, yet the Villainess of Voltage had missed him every time. It probably helped that Chain Lightning was not only enraged, but also deranged.
“I know you!” she shrieked. “You’re a friend of Amy! But I’ll kill you, just like I’ll kill her!”
Just about time to spring the trap. Marvin thought with relief, noting that Chain Lightning was only about twenty feet behind him and glowing dangerously. Turning suddenly, he tossed a dagger with an attached cable that exploded over Chain Lightning’s head into a metal net. The villainess was so surprised to be suddenly attacked she wasted almost an entire minute struggling to pull free.
When she returned her attention to the Dagger and saw that he was holding the cable attached to the net, she really began to rave.
“You think this can stop me? Do you? DO YOU?! I’ll melt it, and I’ll fry you too!”
Chain Lightning began to pour her energy into the net. She was mildly stunned when, not only did it not melt, but the Dagger merely smirked at her, unfazed. “Is that all you got, short-fuse? I’m still freezing over here.”
“AAAHHRRR!!” This time the villainess held nothing back. All the electrical energy she had been storing up for the last few weeks, everything she had not already expended, she poured into the net... and poured… and poured…
Until finally, she slumped to the earth, drained and exhausted. Marvin let out a sigh of relief. The net had heated almost to the melting point, but fortunately his cape concealed the fact that the end of the metal cable trailed into a pool of ice-water he had spotted on their way in. It had grounded out all of Chain Lightning’s voltage harmlessly. The hand he used to loosely hold the cable and prevent her from realizing the futility of her attack was protected by the best shock proofing available, and it still felt toasty.
“Um, excuse me, please? Where, where am I?” The blond woman under the net whimpered. Amy was clearly back in control.
Marvin helped her to her feet, but chose not to release the net, just in case. “Believe me lady, it’s a long story.” I wonder how the others are doing?
Phantom Eagle had led the agitated Darkling off to the left, but their chase did not take them quite so far. Within minutes, the Demoness of Darkness was struggling to keep up through the snow, occasionally even tripping. Her black evening dress was not suited for this environment, and she never had the stamina for chasing enemies.
Leaning on her knees and panting, Dora Keane regained her composure. “Let’s… see… you run… in the dark!” and just like that the snowy expanse around the two women was plunged into darkness.
Phantom Eagle stopped dead. She stood ankle deep in the snow without moving a muscle. Darkling grinned. It never failed. All humans had an innate fear of the dark. Even the bravest hero would become paralyzed and confused when their most critical sense was denied them.
She began to stride forward, unhurried now, taking the time to catch her breath. There would be no surprises this time, since she was blocking all forms of detectable light. Only Dora’s mystic senses could pierce the gloom.
Darkling drew a knife from the inside of her dress. She would strike by surprise, while her foe stood helplessly. Phantom Eagle still had not moved. She barely seemed to breathe.
Frozen with fear. The villainess chuckled quietly. She was just inches away from burying the steel blade into the teen girl’s neck…
… When suddenly, like a striking snake, the young aviator’s fist snapped out and caught the Sinister Shadowcaster in the middle of her face. Howling with pain, Darkling went down, and her shadow-field vanished as she lost her concentration.
Micki KOed the whimpering villain with two more hits. Darkling was a coward, unused to having her foes fight back.
The novice hero had been over-reliant on technology when the two had clashed in Spain. Micki’s father, the original Phantom Eagle, had used cutting edge technology, but he always taught her to trust herself and her own abilities.
This time, instead of rushing in, she let Darkling come to her, making enough noise to give away her position. That’s three down, if Marvin beat Chain Lightning. She thought. Only one to go.
As Kid Eternity faced down his arch-foe, he noticed two bald men with staffs, dressed in white kilts and Egyptian amulets. They appeared unaffected by the cold, and were chanting around the final mystic site.
“The only way you’ll stop Jannes and Jambres from completing the great spell in time, old enemy, is to get past me. This, I promise, will be your finish.”
“Talk is cheap Master Man. I’ll get through anything you can throw at me, and still stop those two-bit magicians with time to spare.”
“Then let there be an end to talk!” he raised his fisted hands above his head. “I’ll reach down into the very deeps of Hell and summon one of the greatest monsters in history. I call forth Anak, last of the Nephilim, father of all giants, Stygia!”
The column of hellfire was like a volcano, and as it dissolved the sight it revealed left even the champion of good gaping for a moment. Anak stood so tall the ice giants from before would have looked like dwarves by comparison. He was clothed only in waves of matted black fur, except for a horned helmet of metal on his head. His exposed flesh looked more like scales than skin. His red eyes shown from cave-like sockets, he carried a colossal metal-bound club of wood in his right hand, studded with spikes eight feet long.
Kit’s wasted second was almost his last. With a bestial roar the giant brought down his club only feet away, the spikes narrowly missing his intended victim. The resulting tidal wave of snow catapulted Kid Eternity head over heels, leaving him dazed and half-buried in snow.
“Kit! Kit! Say Eternity!” called Mr. Keeper, unable to stay silent as the giant moved in with snake-like speed.
“E. . . eternity.” The word was barely out of the Kid’s mouth when the club stuck dead on target. . . and passed harmlessly through the ghost boy. Kid had not been thinking of anybody in particular when he said his word, so by default it turned him back into a bodiless spirit.
For a moment, the giant cocked his head in puzzlement. Then he spoke, in a voice like a combination of a rockslide and an ambush of tigers growling.
“God-touched boy-spirit, I will need more than strength to destroy you.” A sickening ebon glow began to surround his club. Master Man watched his moment of triumph fixedly, almost giddy with glee.
Kid Eternity, however, had regained his wits. “I don’t fight bruisers like you alone buster. Eternity!”
In a cloud of white mist, shining brighter than the snow, a lone figure appeared to face down the titan. He was a roman Equitas, or mounted warrior, dressed in bronze composite armor colored white, and a white Corinthian helmet. On the left arm he wore a white parma equestris shield emblazoned with a red cross in place of the roman eagle. He braced a long wooden lance with iron shank under his right arm. At his belt he wore a spatha, the roman longsword used by cavalry.
“As my name is George the Dragonslayer, by the honor of my savior, I shall slay thee demonspawn!” And with this battle cry he charged the startled monster. Master Man was hardly fazed by this development. Anak would make short work of this paragon, and then finish off his mortal foe. The diabolical villain continued to watch intensely.
Anak was taken aback by the attack. Generally, his victims were too busy fleeing or pleading for their lives to resist. St. George charged, aiming his lance high and leaped from the horse’s back just as he reach the beast. The lance struck its target true, piercing Anak’s knee. With a startled cry, the giant fell over backward, unable to stand.
George landed gracefully and pressed his attack with his sword, abandoning his shield. Like a stinging insect he raced around and even over the monster, inflicting a dozen minor injuries with his spatha. The giant continued to rage and thrash, but was unable to strike his nimble target. After accidently hitting his own foot, he even threw away his own club.
Master Man was growing worried. It was starting to look like his invincible giant was as helpless against this knight as he would be against a hornet. He couldn’t take his eyes from the fight.
George slipped back onto his horse and, with his sword extended, road along the right side of the prone monster raking his flesh. His goal was to hamstring to brute, but he only managed in inflict a bleeding gash. Sweeping out with his right hand, Anak managed to knock the saint off his horse with a tidal-wave of snow and bury him in an instant snow-drift as large as a small hill.
Kid Eternity returned St. George to his eternal rest as the last of the Nephilim dragged himself to his feet and recovered his club, his injuries already healing. Master Man crowed with triumph.
“You see? The forces of good are no match for my armies! Once Anak recovers his strength, he’ll destroy you, and there’s nobody else in history with a chance of…”
Just then an overwhelming feeling swept over Master Man’s mystic senses. Before, the very air had seemed saturated with dark power. Now it felt like it was all draining away, like water rushing out of a tub. He could sense his spell frame work shattering and collapsing, the excess energy feeding back to the sites of power around the globe, causing them to explode as the black magic dissipated harmlessly into the universe.
Spinning around, he saw his final site in disarray, and both his magicians bound and gagged in glowing chains of white magic. The architect of his defeat was a middle-eastern man with a dark beard, purple robes, and a golden crown on his head.
“You fell for the old magician’s trick Master Man,.” said Kid Eternity, smiling in triumph. “You focused on what I wanted you to focus on. I knew St. George couldn’t defeat Anak alone, but I needed you distracted while Solomon took out the real target. Turnabout’s fair play, after all, you used the same trick on me.”
Master Man was not listening, only staring numbly and mumbling to himself “no… no… no…” with a roar like thunder columns of hellfire carried Anak and the two Egyptian priests back to the underworld. In their place, a new figure appeared, one that sent Master Man to his knees in horror and wiped the smile instantly from Kid Eternity’s face.
The figure appeared at first glance to be a man in an elegant black suit with a red cape. His hair was jet black, and slicked flat across his head, and a black goatee framed his frowning mouth. His appearance was rendered inhuman by livid red skin and a pair of horns that curved upward from his forehead.
That was how he appeared at first glance, but to the Kid’s mystic senses, this being fairly shown with dark power. His form expanded beyond the visible plane, and seemed to flicker between many shapes as Kit watched, some indescribable, some horrific, some simply strange. For a second, it even seemed the figure resembled a blond man in green armor.
“Please, Master, have mercy!” the villain begged. “I’ll succeed next time. I will! I WILL! I will bring victories that will make this… this… minor defeat seem…”
“You DARE talk to me of mercy?” Satan snapped, his voice sounding like lava simmering under a volcano. “You will spend the next ten thousand years paying off your debt to me for this debacle!” with a scream, Master Man vanished just as his servants had done.
Satan turned to address Kid Eternity. “Make no mistake boy, despite all the power I lost on this harebrained scheme, the war is not over.” With that, he too vanished.
“As long as there are good guys ready to stand up to bullies, the war will never end.” The Kid said to himself. He turned to find that the other young heroes had gathered silently behind him, prisoners in tow.
Kid Eternity smiled in triumph to see them safe and victorious. “Alright gang, let’s head for home!”
* * *
Hell on Earth, Epilogue
Kid Eternity radioed the NYCPD to have officers from the metahuman crimes division waiting at the Hall of Justice with equipment to take the three remaining members of the Confederation into custody.
They arrived to find the members of the Squadron of Justice waiting for them with baited breath. After hearty welcomes and congratulations were exchanged all around, both teams related their adventures in detail.
It turned out that the emergency call the Squadron received was a fake, just as Kid Eternity surmised. Chain Lightning had started the fire, but Isis had dealt with it with no trouble. Then she was caught in an energy field that slowed down her atoms till she was in stasis.
Her signal device must have been used to summon the other Squadron members. They all caught fleeting glimpses of three Japanese scientists operating a strange machine before the field enveloped them too. A glance at the files identified them as Doctors Hashi, Smashi, and Peeyu, all founding members of the Monster Society of Evil, who died in the bombing of Hiroshima.
When Master Man was taken away, the three evil scientists and their machine had likewise vanished. The Squadron members had returned to headquarters, just in time to catch the news reports of the evil power sites being destroyed. Ibis confirmed the harmless release of evil magic, and a review of the Hall’s security tapes told them all about how Kid Eternity had led the novice heroes into battle to save the world. In fact, they had been about to head to Greenland to assess the situation, when they detected the Squadron flier returning.
Everyone was thrilled by how the young heroes had saved the day and come home unhurt, no one more so than Ibis. He glowed with pride when he heard how his son had defeated Sabbac by out-thinking him, and also praised him for cleverly dissolving the spell of pain back in the Yucatan.
“A real wizard,” he said, “makes mistakes, survives them, and learns from them.”
Most of the young heroes had never met their idols in person, and found themselves left tongue-tied. Even for Kent, the experience was a heady one.
After the criminals were safely in custody, Captain Marvel convened an official meeting of the Squadron of Justice in the conference room, with the Hero Academy students in attendance.
“I want to formally congratulate all the members of our newly-christened Hero Academy for responding to this crisis so well. It appears our plan to use the Hall of Justice as a place to train budding heroes is off to an excellent start. Along with regular training in our gym, I propose that we pass suitable cases that the Squadron is asked to take up on to Kid Eternity and his recruits, to give them field experience.” Everyone at the table knew that the Squadron of Justice received hundreds of requests every day, and most of them were so low scale that the overburdened heroes had to put them on the back burner.
“I further propose that, as leader of the Hero Academy, Kid Eternity be henceforth accorded all the authorizations and privileges of a full member of the Squadron of Justice. This case has shown his has the need, the right, and the ability, as much as any of us do.”
Both proposals met with overwhelming support. Standing at the back of the room, Kit Freeman, Marvin Wyman, Micki Malone, and Kent Nelson all felt an overwhelming sense of elevation, to be treated as members, albeit junior members, of the greatest assembly of men and women in modern history. As these people, who they had considered legends, cheered them, the students of the Hero Academy all felt like they had just taken the first step on an epic journey into the future.
THE END
The Metahuman detention wing was the assignment nobody wanted. It was no secret that 90% of all the successful prison breaks from Parker Maximum Security Prison were from that wing. And unless a superhero arrived in time, (contrary to popular belief, not a regular occurrence) the guards could easily be dead by the time their inmates were gone.
Because of this, nobody on duty in the MHD wing paid much attention to the appearance of their charges. Oh, accidents did happen. Newbies gulled by the whole “I’m feeling faint, leave me alone in the infirmary for an hour or so” routine. For the most part, though, long experience had helped them not to be fooled by appearances, and to remember that everyone in this place was a monster.
Take prisoner 777174 as an example. One might think him totally harmless at first glance. Crazy, perhaps, if that first glance met bulgy, hate-filled eyes that looked like they were willing everything in their path to burn eternally. Still how much harm could he be? Bald, spindly, at a height which could only be called shrimpy (particularly because 777174 had a habit of stooping when he walked), this man seemed like the sort of geek who would be regularly picked on in school.
And perhaps he had, long ago. But nobody who knew him now had any doubt that Timothy Karnes was a monster among monsters.
Nobody that had lived through meeting Sabbac, that is.
* * *
Timothy Karnes longed more than almost anything to show them the power of Sabbac again. It was at the forefront of his brain every time he pressed his fisted hands into the cold, unyielding cement walls and remembered when the strength of Satan himself flowed through him, when he could have torn this wall to pieces and flown forth with the speed of Crateis to kill his mortal enemies in the Marvel Family.
Karnes stalked across his cell to his cot, the very image of an agitated, scurrying insect. He traded his position of frustrated pacing, for an equally frustrated sitting position, glaring at the wall as if it were the personification of his foes.
That was something he would like almost more than his powers and his freedom, to see the so-called mightiest mortals, those paragons of virtue, crushed and broken at his feet. Sabbac held particular enmity for his old nemesis Captain Marvel Jr., but ultimately, all of the Marvels and their allies would grovel before him.
Especially Ibis. Since his most recent imprisonment, Sabbac had nourished a growing resentment for that hero. It was Ibis whose power kept him imprisoned here, whose wards would not allow him to summon his demonic patrons, even if he could somehow scrounge the necessary materials. Even without the power of Sabbac, Karnes would have been far more dangerous if he had his mystical powers at his command. Then he would have shown these fools of guards the horrors of hell itself, before sending them there personally.
Timothy Karnes allowed himself a sadistic smile, his rage simmering slow and strong in his breast. What he wanted most of all was to see all his years of study in the dark arts bear fruit. He had sold his soul, his loyalty, and nearly everything else for power. He had killed his own master, the sorcerer Felix Faust, after he had learned the old man’s secrets. It was this quest for power that had first led him to perform the costly ritual in 1940 wherein he summoned forth six of the most infernal demons of hell and persuaded them to empower him and make him their champion against the weak and useless forces of good.
One day I will rise again. I waited over forty years in this prison for my vengeance on the marvel family. I can easily wait another forty years or longer. One day, when they least expect it, I will reunite the forces of evil under my rule, and then the whole world will bow before the power of hell, and the feet of Sabbac.
Then the lights went out.
In fact, the cell, the hall outside, and from the sounds of panicked yelling and running, most of the cellblock had been plunged into impenetrable, inky blackness. Karnes’ smile grew broader. He knew there could only be one source for such a light-devouring cloud.
Help had arrived.
The sounds of the frantic guards trying to find their way around or get their flashlights to work was suddenly joined by electric cracks, like striking lightning bolts, and the screams of men being electrocuted. Seconds later, the darkness receded from Karnes’ cell and the hallway immediately outside it.
Looking in through the bars with a smug smirk on his wiry features was an old colleague of Sabbac’s. He wore a left-breasted red uniform in a military style, with high brown boots, a yellow belt and a green cape that hung down from his turned up collar to his knees. The front of his uniform was adorned with a skull and crossbones.
“Well?” Karnes snarled at Master Man “What are you waiting for? Release me, you incompetent oaf! Do you expect me to just walk out with you? The cursed Ibis’s spell prevents me from making a sound when I try to say S_____, else I would already be gone.”
Master Man crossed his arms and gave a contemptuous laugh. “Who’s the incompetent? You, once the mighty Sabbac, languish behind bars after you failed as a lowly lackey to the pretentious Black Pharaoh, while I have reorganized the great Confederation of Hell under my leadership.”
“You must free me!” Unless you mean to kill me, a desperate thought answered. “You need my power to achieve the final victory. The Marvels and their allies are too powerful to face alone!”
“Spoken like a broken coward.” Master Man was enjoying this needling, but all pleasant things must end eventually. It was imperative that they all be gone before any heroes arrived to stop them. He had sent several deceased villains to set up distractions earlier, but they dared not tarry more than a few minutes. “Still, you are correct. I do need the power of Sabbac for my scheme. Now that I am sure you understand who leads and will lead the Confederation, I will liberate you. Stygia!”
A column of spectral fire burst from the floor, vanishing again without leaving a mark. In its place stood a man with unruly dark hair dressed in a creamy white toga. He wore numerous amulets around his neck, and many ornate armbands.
“Simon Magnus,” Master Man commanded, “of the countless dark sorcerers at my command, I have chosen you. Lift the spell restraining Sabbac at once!”
“I must obey, though it will be difficult.” The evil magician stroked his beard. “Though I am almost without peer, even I will only be able to lift the spell of the Ibistick for a few moments.”
“That will be sufficient, begin!”
The wizard raised his arms toward the waiting Sabbac and began to chant in the dead language of magic. “Sapitan doreh saidoreh niac marohej khclemiba tol lebezej hahthpej doreh sunag toiracsi saduj!”
For a moment, Sabbac felt as if an invisible shackle had been removed from his mouth. Seeing the sweat pouring from Simon’s face, he wasted not a second. “Sabbac!”
At the sound of the magic word, a bolt of black lightning burst from the floor and transformed Timothy Karnes. His wiry form now seemed infused with inner strength; his prison cloths had been transformed into a flowing green acolyte’s robe. With a wild laugh he ripped the steel bars off of the door as if they were made of tin foil, and stood facing Master Man, who had by now dismissed the infernal sorcerer.
While the ceremony was going on, a blond woman in a back bodysuit wrapped in lightning designs, and a silvery-haired woman in a long black dress had joined their leader.
“We must go at once,” the silver-haired girl said “I feel one with the power of Shazam trying to break through my barrier.”
“No one opponent can challenge us!” roared Sabbac, flushed with arrogant confidence at the return of his powers and freedom.
“The courage of Asmodeus will be your downfall Sabbac. Darkling is right. I will transport us to our secret headquarters, where you will learn the full genius of my plan. Stygia!”
In a column of hellfire, the Confederation vanished leaving a few prison guards, a dozen police officers, and one very frustrated Cool Marvel to pick up the pieces.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 2
Almost two hours later in the same day, a young man stood in a concrete square with his back to an elegant fountain, facing one of the most imposing edifices in New York City. It was not the Empire State Building. Though much more recent, the great domed hall with its glass front and golden globe over the door had already become one of the greatest attractions in the city, attracting dozens of visitors to see the trophies of the Squadron of Justice.
It was the Hall of Justice, and the young man was no tourist.
Marvin Wyman was a bit self-conscious of the fact that everyone must be staring at him. He was dressed in a long sleeved blue tunic and belt, with matching pants and gloves. The chest was red, and a cape and cowl covering all but the lower half of his face was attached at the shoulders.
The visitors to the Squadron of Justice’s trophy rooms (the public, low security portion available on guided tours) politely avoided him. In that outfit, they figured he was either a superhero, and therefore had business with the Squadron, or else he was a supervillain preparing to attack. If that was the case, better not to attract his attention.
Dad, why didn’t you tell me how awkward this feels the first time? He thought, still working up the courage to enter.
Marvin was the heir of a heroic legacy, though it seemed nobody but he cared. His father was a costumed crime fighter in the 40s called the Devil’s Dagger, who had retired in the late fifties and gotten married. Marvin was the youngest of four brothers, widely separated in age.
All four sons shared their father’s love for justice, but only Marvin wanted to be a superhero. Dick and Jeffery thought costumes were foolish. They were heading for careers in politics and police work respectively.
As for Jordan, he lived in a world of abstract formulas and subatomic particles. Science was his life, and he had little interest in anything else.
As often happens, Marvin was the runty brother, always tagging along and trying to interest people in things which they politely told him were juvenile. Only Ken Wyman nurtured his son’s dreams of being a superhero. While he didn’t really see a need for a new Devil’s Dagger, he didn’t want it to be so easily cast aside and forgotten.
Ken Wyman taught his son everything he knew, and Marvin had soaked it up like a sponge. The only thing he put his foot down on was the costume. Ken freely admitted that the tuxedo, top hat, and domino mask were relics of another age of heroes. They designed his current costume with a sleeker, more modern look.
After training for three years, Marvin felt ready. He saw the broadcast by Billy Batson saying that all young heroes seeking training should present themselves on the weekend at the Hall of Justice. Ken wanted his son to wait.
"A fifteen-year-old has no place fighting crime! At least wait till you’ve actually solved a case."
Marvin hated arguing with his Dad, so he didn’t. That night, he snuck out.
This, he thought, is my big day. Summoning up the confident demeanor he had practiced, he walked into the Hall.
In the sunny, vaulted atrium just inside the glass doors he was almost immediately met by a young man about his own age, wearing a loose white shirt and blue pants, with a long red sash tied at his waist. The young man had been sitting at a desk facing the door, but on seeing Marvin he had risen quickly and stepped around it to greet this costumed teen.
“Hi! I guess you’re here for the superhero training course? I’m Kid Eternity.”
Kid Eternity! He wasn’t as famous as the Marvels or anything, but Marvin had heard of him. Here was a genuine superhero. Not retired like dad, but active. Quick, gotta say something impressive. “Uh, I’m the Dagger. My dad was the Devil’s Dagger.” Okay good start. He had decided at the last minute to shorten his father’s codename to just the Dagger. Devil’s Dagger sounded a little too sinister for a hero. Besides, it was a mouthful.
“Really? That’s swell! I never worked with him, but I heard good thing about him during the war.” The Kid was a lot older than he appeared, though he still came off like a teenager. That thought did nothing to help the Dagger feel any less awkward and self-conscious. “I guess that answers the question of how you were inspired to become a superhero. Have you had any cases yet?”
“Well, actually, this is my first time in costume.” Drawing himself up, Marvin concentrated on his dad’s advice. A hero never looks back. “I’ve been training for three years though.”
“Great!” said the Kid. “I need to ask though, why do you particularly want to be a superhero. If the answer is personal, I’m sorry I asked. I’ll still let you try out though. Some of us heroes don’t like telling our origins.” Kit Freeman happened to be one of those, so he understood.
“It’s fine, really. It’s not, like, traumatic or anything. I guess you mean, aside from honoring dad’s career?” Marvin thought for a moment. “I guess I’ve always wanted to help people; like my dad did, in ways normal people can’t. When he told us stories of the old days, it showed me that when one person dedicates himself to fighting evil, he can do a lot.”
Kit began to smile. In his opinion, underneath the understandable nerves, this young man had a sense of rightness and conviction. “Then what you need is practice, and this is the place to get it. Come on down to the practice room and let’s see what you can do”
Marvin was a little hesitant about this part. “I, uh, I don’t know if I should mention this. But I don’t actually have. . . you know. . . superpowers.” Great, just great, got yourself rejected in less than ten minutes. Won’t dad be proud when you come home? Without superpowers, he might as well be an athlete in a Halloween costume to these guys.
Surprisingly, Kid Eternity laughed out loud. “Oh man, the number of times I have heard that!” he caught his breath and continued “This isn’t some comic book like the Legion of Super-Heroes you know. Some members of the Squadron of Justice don’t have powers. Neither did your dad if I remember correctly.” He put an arm around Marvin’s shoulders and guided him toward one of the front hall’s many doors. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of the other hopefuls who arrived earlier. They’re just trying out the practice room.”
As they passed through the security doors and down several brightly-lit hallways Kid Eternity continued to explain. “I suppose it’s reasonable to suppose that, after Billy’s announcement, we’d be drowning in cranks claiming to be superheroes with nothing to show for it. I admit that was pretty much what I was expecting when I accepted the job of instructor.”
“I guess the fact that the announcement was endorsed by the Squadron members in person scared off all but the serious applicants. So far, I’ve only had to turn away a few folks, mostly because they didn’t seem to have the inner motivation to be a hero.” He paused here to give the Dagger an appraising glance. “I think you have that. Add a little confidence and experience and you’ll go far.”
The Dagger was already feeling more relaxed as they entered the secure sector of the Hall. Then they passed through an airlock of reinforced glass doors and his eyes goggled.
“Well,” Kit said with pride, raising his voice a little over the din of combat, “What do you think? Bulletman and Zoro did most of the designing. The room is supposed to simulate any kind of threat or obstacle heroes may have to deal with one day. Once they got started, they couldn’t stop coming up with new ideas for challenges until every square inch of space and then some was used up.”
They were looking from a sheltered, inset doorway into an auditorium-size cubical room that echoed with the sounds of battle. Automatic energy weapons sprouted seemingly at random from the walls and ceiling. All were firing on a pair of flying figures locked in battle with an army of robot drones. The robots were identical, all about five feet high with three large wheels, four arms, and half a dozen energy weapons each. They were pouring out of several small doors along the three blank walls.
The first figure was a girl who looked a few years older than Marvin, dressed in surprisingly form fitting pilot fatigues and a goggled helmet, she was flying around the room in short bursts, propelled by a small, streamlined, grey jet pack. After each burst and aerial maneuver, she would alight on one of the many square shelves that emerged and retracted from the walls. As Marvin watched, she did an aerial somersault and, landing on one of the projections, whipped out an automatic weapon from her chest-holster and sprayed down a dozen of the drones. Instead of the expected bullets, each robot was hit with a white patch that sparked with electricity. Some kind of taser, he guessed.
The other figure was a guy, dressed in a blue and yellow bodysuit with golden gloves and blue boots. His face was concealed behind a golden helmet with only slits for eyes, and he wore a golden amulet with a blue scarab on a chain across his chest. As he soared back and forth across the room, narrowly dodging the hailstorm of energy bolts, he pelted the robots with blasts of shimmering golden energy from his hands. However, this was doing little good, since more robots were spawned as fast as the old ones were destroyed. Suddenly, the helmeted man must have flown too low, since a pack of robots managed to snare him in their long arms and drag him toward the mob below.
“Captain Scarab, get it together!” Kid Eternity called across the room. “I know you’ve been practicing new spells, try a different tactic before you get too tired.”
Across the room, young Kent Nelson struggled to throw the robot off of him with his superstrength, while trying to remember some of the new spells he’d been cramming. Despite the natural aptitude his helmet gave him, learning magic the normal way was tough. He sometimes thought longingly of how easy it was when his helmet automatically fed him all the mystic knowledge and fighting skills he needed. But his dad, Ibis, had determined there was a danger the helmet would begin to control his mind. He had put safeguards on it so that, while Kent could access the power of Nabu’s weapons, they could not touch his mind.
Of course, that meant he needed to go into training. And right now he was not making a very good show of himself.
With a mighty shrug, Captain Scarab threw off the three robots still holding him and gained altitude. Once he had a clear view of all the robot-doors, he decided to try a spell he had memorized the other night, which had sounded useful against multiple targets.
Singin aitof xu
Meced aked nhez
Soded stgiod atid
At once, ten fireballs burst from his gloved fingertips and flew at the doors, growing as they went. As each door was hit, its spawning mechanism shut down, deeming the threat to have been “destroyed.”
“Aww shucks, Kent! And just when I was starting to have fun.” Phantom Eagle snapped a fresh clip of gimmicked ammo into her personally-designed pistol and finished off the last few robots with a spray of explosive pellets.
“Good shooting Micki, but don’t show off. Remember, you’ve had more experience than Kent.” Indeed, not only was Micki Malone the oldest trainee so far, she had been trained by her dad to fly, fight, and tinker with machines since she could walk. It’ll be good for her to have somebody human to practice with particularly someone who has trained nearly as hard as she has, Kit thought. Better to stamp out their overconfidence here than risk them going into battle half-cocked. “Everyone, this is our newest recruit, the Dagger.”
“Uh, Hi guys. . . and girls,” he added quickly, as Phantom Eagle cocked her eyebrow in a warning fashion. Don’t want to start off on the wrong foot. These were his teammates after all. From what he had just seen, he was glad they were on the same team.
“Glad to meet you!” said Kent, warmly shaking the newcomer’s hand. “I’m Captain Scarab, but you can call me Kent.” Still panting slightly under his helmet from the hard workout, Captain Scarab nonetheless tried to be as friendly as possible.
“Likewise,” said Micki shaking this new teammate’s hand (with a bit more reserve) after she had caught her breath. This new hero seemed a little young to her. “In costume I’m the Phantom Eagle, like my Dad, but I guess you can call me Micki.”
“Great!” said the Dagger “I’m Marvin. You’re dad was a hero too wasn’t he?”
“Yea” she brightened up “the original Phantom Eagle. You’ve heard of him?”
“Sure, my dad used to tell me stories about the heroes of the forties and fifties, to motivate me during training.”
“I get that,” said Kent. “My dad, my adoptive dad anyway, always uses examples like El Carim when he’s helping me study magic.”
This made the Dagger curious. “So your dad is. . .”
“Ibis the Invincible”
Marvin didn’t really know how to answer that. Compared to Ibis, his dad was a forgotten hero.
“So,” Micki said, breaking the spell, “what exactly can you do?”
Before Marvin had a chance to answer, Kid Eternity spoke out. “I think now would be a good time to figure that out. Feel up to using the equipment Dagger?”
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 3
Over an hour later Kid Eternity watched from the glass observation booth as all three of his new recruits wove through a variety of moving obstacles while avoiding automated weapons and robots. Occasionally, he would call out instruction, mostly to show them where they could help each other out.
"Teamwork will come in time my boy," said Mr. Keeper, before floating off to the ceiling. Although his presence was necessary for Kit to be visible, he was keeping his involvement minimal during this “growing experience.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kit noticed the emergency alarm flashing on one of the monitors. Frowning, he walked quickly over and switched on the monitor screen. The computer was picking up a news broadcast from Mexico, saying that Sabbac was tearing up some Mayan ruins and the Mexican military authorities had already taken casualties.
This is bad. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than the screen split into two scenes, and then into four. A cloud of darkness emanating from a woman in a black dress had covered Granada in Spain, Chinese soldiers on Mount Tai reported they were under attack by a woman throwing lightning bolts, and the city of Jerusalem was apparently being overrun by Crusaders from the 11th century.
“I take it back” he voiced aloud. “This is VERY bad.” He didn’t need to refer to their criminal database to figure out what the threat was. This bore all the earmarks of one of the most terrible supervillain gangs in the world, the Confederation of Hell.
Shazam had been warning them for some time that the Confederation was moving in secret, but there couldn’t be a worse time for them to finally crawl out from under their rocks. Nobody was officially on monitor duty, since Isis had summoned the membership to deal with a massive fire in the northwest. They still hadn’t gotten back yet. . .
. . . Which, in and of itself, was strange. Kid Eternity used the monitor board to sound out an emergency call for all active members of the Squadron to proceed to the four trouble spots, but got no answer. He watched the monitors for a few moments, but the situation got worse, not better.
As a guest, and not a member himself, Kit had only limited access to the computer system. He had no way to contact any of the allies of the Squadron, even if they were not already trapped. He was certain that there was nothing coincidental about the Squadron being decoyed and disappearing right before the Confederation struck.
What do I do? Kit could try and locate the Squadron on his own, but with no idea where to start, it was probable that the Confederation’s plan would succeed before he did.
Of course, there was. . . another option. . . but he would have to be crazy to consider it. They’ve been practicing together for all of, what, two hours! And now I’m thinking about sending them to fight the likes of the Confederation of Hell. It would be murder!
On the other hand, Phantom Eagle and the Dagger had been training for years, just not in combat. And Captain Scarab had fought a supervillain before (with a lot of help, he reminded himself).
When it came right down to it, he had no choice. Just like in the war, you had to draft whoever was available in a crisis. Kit hadn’t had any more experience when he had started his career in 1942. They were not children, they were young men and women who chose to fight supervillains. They all knew they would face a baptism by fire like this soon, just maybe not this soon.
Keep maintained a stoic expression. Kit was on his own. Walking over to the speaker he deactivated the room. “Kent, Marvin, Micki, report to the briefing room on the double. We have a global emergency.”
* * *
They took the announcement better then Kit Freeman expected.
“We’re going to what!” said Captain Scarab. Although his face was concealed, his voice clearly indicated he was anxious. Phantom Eagle stood stiffly with pursed lips, her fingers gunfighter-flexing over her holster. Although only his chin was exposed, the Dagger seemed to pale a little, and he also stood tensely.
“Listen” said Kid Eternity, his voice serious and level. “I wouldn’t send you into this if I didn’t feel you were capable. Just think of this as a field training exercise.” He paused and watched as the trainees suppressed their nerves with steely determination. He was proud of them. They knew the stakes, and they were ready to try, even if it was their first day on the job.
The Kid continued. “I’ve set two of the jets on autopilot, one to take Phantom Eagle to Granada.” He faced her “Micki, you’ll be fine. Darkling’s only power is the ability to create darkness. Just remember that she usually has thugs with her, and she can control who can see in her blackout and who can’t, so it won’t bother them.”
“I’ve got something in my supplies that might help with that.” Micki replied with a quick nod.
“The other jet,” the Kid continued “Is for you, Dagger, and it’ll take you to Mt. Tai in the PRC. Keep on your toes when avoiding Chain Lightning’s electric bolts. She has two weaknesses. First, she doesn’t generate her own power. She stores it like a battery, so you can keep her fighting until she runs down.”
The Dagger took a moment to imagine himself jumping around for hours dodging lightning bolts. “What’s the OTHER option?”
“Well, if you feel up to it, you could try to play on her mental instability. Chain Lighting has four different personalities, only two of which are evil. If she says she’s Amber, just keep calling her Amy.”
As the other two heroes raced to the jets, Kid Eternity finished giving instructions to Captain Scarab. “Kent, I need you to fly to the ruins in the Yucatan and deal with Sabbac. I know.” He held up his hand, forestalling the arguments he knew were coming. “You had help from the helmet when you fought Black Adam, but you’re the only one powerful enough to fight Sabbac and win. I’ve got to handle Master Man myself. I can’t delegate that.”
After a long pause, Captain Scarab nodded. “I’ll make you proud.” He said, meaning not just his teacher, but also his adopted father Ibis the Invincible.
Kit opened the large skylight, designed by Bulletman for the convenience of the Squadron’s flying members. Bearing south west (measured by the compass points inscribed around the domed exit) Captain Scarab took the course that the computer said would bring him to Sabbac fastest, as the crow flies.
Kit Freeman spoke his magic word “Eternity!” and transformed into a ghost. In this form he could travel through the spirit world and reach Jerusalem in minutes.
“Well, Keep,” he asked the chubby, robed spirit flying beside him as the world faded into pale mist “Let’s show Master Man and his thugs that the first class of the Hero Academy can take on anything evil can dish out.”
“You know Kit, I like that name. I’m sure they’ll pass with flying colors.”
There was nothing more to be said, as the mist was resolving itself into shapes again. Kid Eternity mentally prepared himself for battle with his arch enemy.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 4
Kid Eternity had programmed the Squadron jet to set Phantom Eagle down right in the center of the sphere of darkness, since it was likely that that was where Darkling would be.
The moment the door of the ship opened, the darkness enveloped Micki in a wave. Unfazed, she reached into her vest and produced a large pair of goggles. Not ordinary infrared glasses, instead something special she had developed working in the barn workshop behind her father’s house.
During the war and later, in the late 40s and early 50s, the original Phantom Eagle had occasionally worked alongside another pilot named Captain Midnight. Midnight’s secret was a device called the radarscope, which combined multiple different invisible light-based scanners into one image. Inspired by her father’s stories of the device, Micki had created a (admittedly bulky) pair of goggles which combined radar and infrared to give her a fairly clear image, even in total darkness.
Leaping onto the deserted square, she scanned the scene. There were six or seven burly shapes walking around. Local thugs, just like Kid Eternity said. They were setting up some kind of braziers at different corners of the square. A slender shape with long hair and a dress was sitting on the roof of an abandoned car, calling out instructions; Darkling herself, no doubt.
Phantom Eagle couldn’t help noticing all the bodies sprawled around the edges of the square, where they’d clearly been dragged. She devoutly hoped they were only unconscious and not dead.
Better make this quick, she thought confidently. Racing across the square, she drew her gun and snapped off two shots in rapid succession from the hip. The taser bullets found their mark and two thugs went down like tenpins. Two down, five to go.
“What, another intruder still running around? Get her you fools, she must not stop the preparations!” Darkling shrieked.
The next two thugs closed in too fast. Micki holstered her gun with her right hand while snapping out with her left. She stepped into the punch, and the first goon took it directly on the chin. He went out like a light.
“Hey, she can see!” yelled the second in Spanish as he went for his gun. He couldn’t stop his forward momentum, however, when Micki stuck out her leg and tripped him. He went headfirst into the ornate marble fountain, losing his gun as he slumped to the flagstones.
Four down. Feeling a little less cocky after her near miss, Phantom Eagle risked a minute to catch her breath. This was her first time fighting living enemies. She was just noticing how sore the knuckles on her left hand felt.
The last two thugs were apparently unarmed or maybe wearing brass knuckles. It was hard to tell contrast with her radar-goggles. Confronted with a costumed hero, who seemed immune to their greatest weapon, they had fallen back to Darkling’s position and kept glancing nervously between her, Phantom Eagle, and their fallen comrades. Their boss however, had regained her cool.
“So you can still see? Those goggles I suppose. Some sort of infrared vision?” She threw back her head and laughed. “You overconfident girl! Don’t you think that’s been tried before? My darkforce shields can block Captain Marvel’s lighting. No light, visible or invisible, is beyond my mystic power to silence.”
And just like that, the lights went out.
The next few minutes were a blur for Micki. She tried to fight, but was completely disoriented by the sudden darkness. The goons took full advantage of this, and drove her to the ground with several severe blows. Things might have gone worse if she hadn’t instinctively fallen back on her father’s survival training. If all else fails, he had said, play dead.
Letting her limbs fall limb, she collapsed to the cobblestones, gaining at least one more bruise on the way. One of the thugs gave her a kick before Darkling yelled for them to finish their fun and get back to work. Micki wanted to stop them, but her body did not feel like moving.
After a minute, the darkness vanished and some Spanish policemen arrived to help her to her ship. The villains were gone, and each of the five braziers was surrounded with a force field. The police told her many times how grateful they were that she had tried to help, but all the new Phantom Eagle could think about as she nursed her injuries on the trip back to New York was how disappointed Kid Eternity would be that she failed her first mission.
* * *
Magic was a very reliable way to travel. Once Kent willed himself to go in a particular direction, he needed to do very little to correct his course.
It was painfully obvious when he had reached the scene of Sabbac’s latest rampage. Once, this isolated Mayan temple had attracted a trickle of interested tourists, despite its remote location. Now, throngs of reporters and bystanders pressed against the perimeter the Mexican army had set up around the vine-covered stone structure.
Within that perimeter was a battlefield of wrecked cars, uprooted trees, and uncontrolled fires. Sabbac had apparently taken great pleasure in clearing the area so he would not be disturbed. A few shell marks in the ground told of the military’s attempt to stop the villain, but they seemed to have given up
Time to give them some hope. Swooping in low over the temple, Captain Scarab called out “Sabbac, you coward! Come out and fight, unless you only like bullying tourists.” Kent tried to infuse bravery into his challenge, but his voice broke a little at the end. It wasn’t noticeable, however, as his helmet gave everything he said an ominous echo.
In response, a green-robed figure burst through the roof of the temple. Sabbac hovered for a moment, eying his adversary like an annoying beetle. “I don’t know who you are,” he snarled to the superhero, “but before I’m done it won’t matter, because nobody will be able to identify your corpse!”
Kent barely had time to raise the shield spell he always kept ready before Sabbac was on him in a flurry of fists. The air in front of his face flicked with cracked orange after-images of the invisible barrier, even as the force of each blow drove the flying hero further backward.
Drawing on the strength of his magic scarab, Kent tried to match his opponent blow for blow. But although his forcefield magnified his punches slightly, he was still not strong enough to hurt the satanic supervillain. His counterattack slowed Sabbac’s down, but didn’t stop it.
Captain Scarab saw the cracks in his shield getting larger faster; he only had seconds until it failed completely. I need to go on the offensive, now! With the words “Elle Alis!” he broke off the fight and clapped his hands together. Instead of a mild clap, a wave of explosive sonic force blasted out like a bomb. Kent was unaffected, but Sabbac was sent hurtling into a slab of rock on the ground below.
“How ‘bout an early trip to the hot seat Sabbac?” Kent called out as he swooped, pressing his advantage while his foe was disoriented. “Singi Aidihcra!” he called using one of his favorite spells to throw down fireballs at his enemy.
This did not have the expected effect, however. As Captain Scarab touched down so he could poor more power into the attack, he realized that not only had Sabbac regained his bearings, he was standing unfazed and laughing.
“You think you can burn me? My body is full of the power of Beelzebub himself, master of the Hellfires!”
“I think you’re just full of hot air.” The young hero quipped back as he began to gather his power for another concussive blast. The last one just barely fazed Sabbac maybe a few more would do the trick.
Sabbac, however, had lost patience with this fight. “I’m no thug, little wizard. If you want to fight with magic, I’ll oblige!” as Kent hurried to form his spell, Sabbac slashed the air and cried “Oren naitimod suilerua sucram!”
Captain Scarab was bowled over by what felt like a combination of a sandstorm, a hurricane, and a forest fire. It swirled around his fallen form, dissolving away his shields, so he had to pour all his strength into them just to keep them up.
“When the vortex of pain finally eats through your shields do-gooder, you’ll suffer such agony you’ll die of shock.” He sneered cruelly. “I’d dearly love to stay and watch, but the preparations here are finally complete, and I don’t want to miss the final ceremony of alignment.” With that parting remark, he took to the sky and flew north.
Got to think fast. Maintaining the shield was growing impossible. Wait, this is a spell of suffering, so maybe a spell of healing will stop it.
He knew he would only get one shot. Diverting what power he needed, Kent suddenly dropped the shields and sprayed the hurricane of pain with spells of regeneration, purification, and, most importantly, pain relief. Fortunately, his father had insisted he learn plenty of these, since his teammates would often need him to heal them in a fight.
And it was working! Instead of surging forward, the angry red sandstorm recoiled back, with each spell it dissolved a little more until there was nothing left.
Kent stood exhausted while the Mexican police investigated the scene. He was elated to be alive, but more than a little shaken by his brush with horrible death. As soon as he was strong enough, Captain Scarab began a wobbly flight back to New York City.
* * *
The first thing the Dagger noticed as his ship approached Mt. Tai was that the Chinese army had not yet given up the fight. Although they were no longer sending men up the slope, it was pockmarked by smoking craters left by artillery shells. “I just hope they don’t try shooting while I’m down there.” He spoke out loud in an attempt to calm his nerves.
The flier touched down amidst the shattered rocked and sulfurous haze. Marvin dived from the door and began to weave toward his target in a sniper’s trot, his cape billowing out behind, the dark colors blending in to the background.
Chain Lighting was easy to find. He just followed the bright flashes. The villainess of voltage seemed torn between setting up an arrangement of braziers and occult symbols, and hurling lightning bolts at the troops trying to scale the hill. The last barrage had sent them into retreat, leaving the remains of their comrades behind.
The Dagger tried not to look.
The retreat made little difference to Chain Lightning, who was still ranting and firing off shots. For a gal who doesn’t generate her own power, she sure spends it quickly. He though. Good, maybe tiring her out will be easy.
Still, he was going to try the safe way first. “Amy!” he called out, trying to sound calm while projecting his voice over the din “Listen! I’m a friend. See?” he stepped out from behind the jagged rocks “I don’t look like the people trying to kill you, do I?” Keeping his hands raised in a non-threatening manner, Marvin began to walk slowly toward her.
Chain Lightning spun around with a look of mixed shock and bewilderment. After over an hour of fighting off Chinese troops, trying to follow Master Man’s orders and (quite literally) arguing with herself, this was an approach she was unprepared for.
For a moment, the Dagger thought he would be able to settle this without fighting. Then he saw the look of confusion fade into raw rage, and had just enough time to dodge before a lightning bolt blasted the rock to pebbles where his feet had been.
“There is no Amy here!!” the electronic evildoer ranted, chasing him around the rocks with more bolts.
OK, so much for the easy way. It was time to employ some of his signature weapons.
Reaching into one of the compartments in the belt, he pulled out a collapsible throwing knife with a hollow blade of extra-thin metal. When he threw it, the chemicals in the blade turned into an inky black cloud filling the area. Smoke-screen knife will blind her. Then I can get in close and take her down fast.
However, he had taken less than three steps in her direction before a bright light began to dispel the murk. Somehow, Chain Lightning was channeling her power through her skin, like a lightbulb filament. Hey, nobody said she could do that!
Abandoning plan B (or was it C?) he tossed another knife. This one burst over her head into a tungsten fiber net. “Let’s see you get out of that, bright girl! The conductive netting will contain any electricity you can throw out.”
And it did, for a minute or two anyway. Just as Marvin was congratulating himself on his first defeated supervillain, he noticed that Chain Lightning’s glow was getting brighter. . . MUCH brighter.
Uh-oh, he thought, just before the net burst into a spray of hot, shiny metal droplets. There was nowhere to dive for cover, so Marvin hunkered down under his cape. It was designed by his dad to be acid proof, fire proof, shock proof, and able to serve as a bomb blanket.
He had just enough time to notice a buildup of static and think about his father saying “gloating is for supervillains, that’s why they lose,” before a sudden shock raced through his body and he blacked out.
He woke up under the ministrations of a Chinese medic. Apparently, the fact he was wrapped in a bleeding-edge shock proof costume had saved him from death, and Chain Lightning hadn’t bothered to confirm he was killed. According to Colonel Liu, when Chain Lightning had apparently finished whatever she was doing, she had disappeared and a force field appeared around the occult articles she set up.
After thanking his medic and the colonel, who also gave him a report on everything they tried to break the force field, the Dagger grimly boarded his craft and told the autopilot to go home.
Maybe that’s what I should do, go home. Maybe dad was right. Maybe I am too young for this.
* * *
Jerusalem was a scene of chaos. Crowds of people screamed in panic and raced away from the center of town, closely pursued by 11th century knights on horseback that seemed determined to run the unarmed civilians through. Hordes of medieval pikemen and swordsmen on foot patrolled the streets around the Dome of the Rock, robbing and killing anybody they found.
And atop the Dome. . .
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Master Man laughed as he watched the pandemonium below. “I felt so sorry for all those crusaders who died before they had a chance to loot the Holy Land. They seem to be making up for lost time now!” He laughed again. “O how I enjoy heresy. There’s nothing quite like evil done in the name of good.”
Meanwhile, Kid Eternity materialized on the street below. “I think it’s time to teach these so-called knights the true meaning of chivalry.” He called out “Eternity!” and the street was filled in a cloud of white mist with another legion of knights, this time dressed in the arms and armor of eighth century France. At their head was a man over six feet tall who sat on his horse with regal bearing, wearing the arms of the Carolingian royal house.
“Charlemagne, you invented knighthood. For God and Honor, show these Crusaders why you were one of the Nine Worthies of Christendom.”
As the knights immortalized in the Matter of France drove the bloodthirsty marauders away, Master Man spoke his word and materialized face to face with his arch foe in the court in front of the Muslim holy site.
“I hoped you wouldn’t fall into the trap we set for the Squadron of Justice, my old enemy.” The malevolent mastermind gloated. “Now I’ll have the pleasure of destroying you myself! Stygia!”
In a column of hellfire, a gaunt, middle-eastern man dressed in loose white robes and a white turban appeared. He had a curved knife in each hand, and was flanked by half a dozen other men dressed and armed the same way.
“Hassan-i Sabbah and his finest Hashshashins will make short work of you.” The evil doer mocked, as the murderous figures encircled the boy in blue and white.
Kit had less than a minute to summon help. “Eternity!” he called, even as the assassins sprung. . .
Only to have their blades checked in mid flight by the rapiers and daggers of four French Royal Musketeers of the 17th century.
“Allons-y comrades!” cried D'Artagnan “Let us show these Mohammedan murderers true skill with a blade.”
Despite being outnumbered, the Musketeers were better armed and equally skillful as the assassins, and as the warriors battled back and forth across the open court in front of the Dome the tide of battle began to turn in favor of the forces of good.
Meanwhile, Kid Eternity move between the fighters and closed on his arch enemy.
“Meddlesome brat! I’ll summon the most horrendous of monsters to kill you. Styg…!”
Before he could finish his magic word, the kid knocked him flat on his back with a punch to the face.
“I was trained in boxing by John L. Sullivan, in case you forgot.” He cracked his knuckles. “So what’s it going to be, Master Man? Are to brave enough to fight me one-on-one?” Kit was not normally so aggressive, but he had an ulterior motive. With the way this fight was escalating, civilian casualties would be high if they both kept summoning worse and worse threats to battle. Master Man wouldn’t care about innocent lives, but Kit was confident he was too egotistical to back down from a challenge.
His knowledge of his foe paid off. With a snarl, the villain leapt on his foe. “I’ll tear you limb from limb, boy!” He suddenly dropped on one knee and tossed the Kid over his shoulder. Kit only just missed hitting his head on a stone step. “You think your Sullivan idea was unique? I was trained by Commodus Caesar.” He leaped for the Kid’s throat.
Kid Eternity deflected him with a roll, simultaneously rising to his feet. The two old foes began to spar back and forth, working their way into the main chamber of the Dome. All the guards and caretakers had long-since fled, though they would soon return now that the resurrected spirits had vanished.
Something strange seemed to be happening. Kit knew, on an intellectual level, that his adrenaline should be running high, and his heart racing with the exertion of this fight. Indeed, if it wasn’t for his years of practice, the more powerfully built Master Man would have triumphed quickly. Yet, the longer the fight went on, the more the he seemed to feel a growing sense of lethargy. Though he struck out, his punches felt like he was swimming in molasses, or moving in a dream. Master Man seemed strangely less interested in striking him now, then in keeping the same steady pace of the fight. Left and right, back and forth, again and again…”
Then, like a puppet with his strings cut, Kit’s arms dropped to his sides and he stood entranced. His mind struggled, but could not motivate his body to move, even to speak his magic word.
Master Man stood panting, but grinned with triumph anyway. “That took longer than you promised Rasputin.”
A man in black robes with a long, wild beard and blazing eyes stepped out from behind a pillar. He was a man the Kid had met before.
“The boy’s will was strong.” Grigori Rasputin said. “No matter though, my power proved stronger. He has been rendered helpless.”
“Excellent. Now be gone. Stygia!” As Rasputin vanished, Master Man studied his helpless enemy and rubbed his hands with glee.
“At last I have you helpless, and I can’t decide what to do!” He paced up and down. “I could summon up Qinshihuangdi and a band of horsemen to tear him limb from limb, or Nero and his soldiers to burn him alive.” He shook his head. “No, no, too quick. Maybe I’ll have the Marquis de Sade torture him slowly to death, or would Tomas de Torquemada be a better choice? Or maybe…”
Suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed. “What a fool I am! Why should I waste my time?” He turned to sneer and his enemy one last time before departing. “In less than a day, when the stars are right, my cohorts and I will bring the entire earth to Hell, and I’ll be able to torture you anyway I like for all eternity. Stygia!”
As Master Man vanished, Kid Eternity felt is ability to move return. He tried not to worry – after all, Master Man had escaped him before – but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the demonic dictator had meant what he said about sending earth to Hell literally.
After getting some advice from King Solomon about the mystic preparations the villain had set up, a failed attempt to breach the mystic forcefield, and questioning the local authorities for what little they knew. He spoke his magic word and began the journey home.
Who knows? He thought, maybe the trainees will have had better luck than I did.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 5
The attitude in the Hall of Justice was one of despair when Kid Eternity materialized. He noted in passing that none of the official Squadron members had yet to return, a most worrying sign.
The members of his newly-christened Hero Academy sat at the round conference table in the meeting hall despondently. Phantom Eagle was clearly nursing several bruises, and the Dagger looked like he’d recently suffered a bad electric shock. Only Captain Scarab seemed unhurt, though plainly shaken. None of them had prisoners.
The Kid squared his shoulders and stood at the head of the table. Sir Francis Drake had once told him that "a crew will never panic until the captain panics."
“Don’t waste time,” he began, cutting off a string of self-deprecation and even despair “telling me how you all messed up. Not one person in our business catches the bad guys on the first try, not even Captain Marvel. Report everything that happened in your fights, just the facts, and don’t leave anything out. The slightest detail may turn out to be crucial.”
Slowly at first, but gaining confidence under his coaching, each of the three young heroes related their encounters. All trailed off into embarrassed silence when they reached the end. Despite what Kit told them, they had all thought they would do better.
Kit’s opinion was quite different. “All of you did quite well, particularly for your first time on the street. First, you survived.” This, he thought, was his greatest fear. “Second, you limited civilian casualties by drawing the villains’ fire onto yourselves. That is our main job, to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
“We didn’t save everyone,” Mumbled Marvin.
“But no one died after you arrived.” The Kid maintained. “If you had been there sooner, maybe things would have been different. But if you keep thinking about what ifs and maybes, you’ll go nuts. You got there as fast as you could.”
“Finally,” he continued, “you brought back valuable intelligence, which matches the information I got from my investigation.”
"Both Sabbac and Master Man, and even Darkling, boasted that we would be suffering in Hell by tomorrow. Obviously they didn’t mean to kill us. I don’t know about you all…” he gave a small, quirky grin “… but hell is not my destination.” His expression sobered quickly. “Solomon confirmed my worst fears when he examined the occult preparations Master Man had set up in the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. The Confederation of Hell is forming a giant pentagram around the globe. Each site we fought them at is one ‘corner,’ just much bigger.”
“Why couldn’t we smash the equipment they set up?” asked Captain Scarab.
“That’s a good question. The way Solomon explained it, in a normal pentagram, all you have to do is scrape a chalk line or knock over a brazier and the whole spell falls apart. But this in this case, the ‘chalk lines” are band of invisible black magic circling the globe, and there’s so much power running through them that it forms an unbreakable shield around each point. It’s like trying to pull apart a live wire, or maybe pull out a brick from the base of a bridge.” Head nods from around the table indicated his audience was focused and understood the problem
“A normal pentagram,” he continued “opens a small portal to hell to let one, or at worst a handful, of demons through. This portal will be so big that the entire planet will pass right through.”
“That sounds a lot like what happened back in ’85, just when the Crisis was ending.” Phantom Eagle spoke up. She was referring to the brief period when all the earths were united, during which the Anti-Monitor opened a portal to the anti-matter universe large enough to swallow the entire planet. Only the heroes who had been to the dawn of time remembered the event, of course, but Captain Marvel had dictated a complete account into the Squadron archives for everyone to study.
“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was where Master Man got the idea,” added Kent. The whole idea of the spell both fascinated and horrified him. “It would have taken him at least two years to gather enough magical power to put something like this together. I’ll bet it set his Boss back a pretty penny too.” Even amidst the fear, he was beginning to feel more animated. At least now they understood what was going on. Maybe they could make a plan…
“But what can we do?” broke in Marvin. “We’re just kids! Just trainee heroes. We’re not supposed to go into action against big threats like this! We need to find the Squadron or. . . or something!”
“Listen!” Snapped Kit Freeman. In that instant, his presence seemed to fill the room. For a moment, everyone saw him, not just as a peer, but a hero who had been operating at least as long as most of the Marvels. “Captain Marvel stopped Dr. Sivana for the first time when he had had the cape less than 24 hours. Most of the members of the SOJ have similar stories.” He braced his knuckles on the table and met all their eyes in turn. “I don’t know where the other heroes are, I’m certain the Confederation are behind their disappearance. It’s too much of a coincidence. And we don’t have time to look for them; we need to take the fight to the enemy.”
Kid Eternity touched a button under the rim of the table, bringing up a world map in the wall-screen. There were four glowing points around the center, the four locations they had fought the Confederation.
“The fifth point of the pentagram has to be at these coordinates in the Arctic Circle.” A fifth point appeared in northern Greenland. “Solomon says that if we can destroy it before the planets align properly, all five points will be destroyed, and all the stockpiled black magic will dissipate harmlessly. And if we don’t waste anymore time, we’ll have about three hours to save the world."
“Now let’s get to the jets!”
Spurred by with new confidence, all the heroes raced from the meeting room. And on the way, thought the Kid, we’re going to do some serious strategizing.
* * *
Hell on Earth, Chapter 6
Once the silvery craft touched down on the snowy wastes of northern Greenland, the Hero Academy students poured out and quickly assessed the situation
The villains were nearby, but Master Man had summoned three ice giants out of Norse folklore to build a defensive ice wall around the final corner of the pentagram.
With his magic word, Kid Eternity summoned an elderly man in ancient Greek robes, along with a massive device of mirrors and levers.
“Alright Archimedes, let’s make things too hot for these ice-trolls.”
With an abrupt nod, the famous Greek inventor began pulling levers and bringing his mirrors into position. In seconds, a beam of blazing light had reduced the wall and three screaming frost giants to clouds of steam.
Master Man and his surprised cohorts were revealed, standing around the final mystic site.
“Pick a target and hit em’ hard team,” called the Kid. “Just like we planned, and don’t let up!”
As one, the heroes surged forward.
Captain Scarab rocketed into Sabbac, chanting under his breath. Just before impact his fists released an explosive blast which magnified the force of his superstrong, superfast attack. The satanic superman was sent spinning through the air, until he crashed deep in a snow drift a half-mile away.
In less than a second, however, he was free again, and fit to be tied. “You’ve pushed your luck too far wizardling! I will wait no longer. I’ll kill you here and now with my bare hands!”
As Sabbac charged, Captain Scarab flew southward at a slight angle, giving every appearance of fleeing in blind panic. Laughing manically, Sabbac set out to chase down his victim. “That’s it, you cowardly excuse for an apprentice, run! Run like you have some hope of escaping destruction.”
Kent didn’t waste time with words. There was a time for quips and a time for action. All during the chase he was chanting quietly, hoping that Sabbac would not realize what he was doing.
Dark storm clouds began to build overhead as Sabbac closed the last few feet.
Just before he could wrap his hands around the Captain’s throat… a lighting bolt broke from the clouds and stuck him from behind. Suddenly, where Sabbac the Evil had been flying, a stunned Timothy Karnes was plummeting.
He started to say his name “Sab…!” but shock and loss of breath had bought his magical opponent precious time.
Oicnelis ezeerf!
Karnes fell the next few feet in silence. When Kent caught him inches from the ground, the spell held him stiff as a board, unable to speak any magic word at all, or make any mystic gestures. Only his eyes were free to move, and they almost literally burned with hatred as they darted around.
During the trip down, Kid Eternity had talked to Kent about all the ways Captain Marvel Jr. had defeated Sabbac in the past. Back in 1943, Sabbac had dodged his own lightning bolt and used it to turn Freddy Freeman into Sabbac Junior. Captain Scarab figured it should work the other way too; a magic lightning bolt would turn Sabbac back into his human form.
As Captain Scarab took the most powerful member of the Confederation of Hell out of the picture, Phantom Eagle and the Dagger reached the villains on foot, running side by side.
“You break right, and I’ll go left, ’kay?” Micki said. Marvin signaled OK with his left hand while pulling out two daggers with his right.
Just as they reached their targets, Phantom Eagle sprayed the snow in front of Darkling with flare bullets, while Dagger landed two explosive Concussion Daggers in front of Chain Lightning. Both villains were left stunned and dazzled. Standing in the rear, even Master Man was knocked off his feet. The two student heroes split off in opposite directions.
“Get them! Kill those over-grown sidekicks. But leave Kid Eternity to me!” snarled Master Man as he regained his feet. His two henchwomen were already off and running, probably not even listening to him.
The Dagger put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly to catch Chain Lightning’s attention. When the blonde battery turned to catch sight of the caped hero, he called out “Hey, dim-bulb! Catch me if you can!” then took to his heels. He made sure to weave back and forth among the snow drifts in what his dad called a “sniper’s walk,” a trick used in the military to keep an enemy from drawling a bead on his target.
And it was working. Lightning bolts struck all around, sometimes vaporizing mounds of snow he had been behind moments before, yet the Villainess of Voltage had missed him every time. It probably helped that Chain Lightning was not only enraged, but also deranged.
“I know you!” she shrieked. “You’re a friend of Amy! But I’ll kill you, just like I’ll kill her!”
Just about time to spring the trap. Marvin thought with relief, noting that Chain Lightning was only about twenty feet behind him and glowing dangerously. Turning suddenly, he tossed a dagger with an attached cable that exploded over Chain Lightning’s head into a metal net. The villainess was so surprised to be suddenly attacked she wasted almost an entire minute struggling to pull free.
When she returned her attention to the Dagger and saw that he was holding the cable attached to the net, she really began to rave.
“You think this can stop me? Do you? DO YOU?! I’ll melt it, and I’ll fry you too!”
Chain Lightning began to pour her energy into the net. She was mildly stunned when, not only did it not melt, but the Dagger merely smirked at her, unfazed. “Is that all you got, short-fuse? I’m still freezing over here.”
“AAAHHRRR!!” This time the villainess held nothing back. All the electrical energy she had been storing up for the last few weeks, everything she had not already expended, she poured into the net... and poured… and poured…
Until finally, she slumped to the earth, drained and exhausted. Marvin let out a sigh of relief. The net had heated almost to the melting point, but fortunately his cape concealed the fact that the end of the metal cable trailed into a pool of ice-water he had spotted on their way in. It had grounded out all of Chain Lightning’s voltage harmlessly. The hand he used to loosely hold the cable and prevent her from realizing the futility of her attack was protected by the best shock proofing available, and it still felt toasty.
“Um, excuse me, please? Where, where am I?” The blond woman under the net whimpered. Amy was clearly back in control.
Marvin helped her to her feet, but chose not to release the net, just in case. “Believe me lady, it’s a long story.” I wonder how the others are doing?
Phantom Eagle had led the agitated Darkling off to the left, but their chase did not take them quite so far. Within minutes, the Demoness of Darkness was struggling to keep up through the snow, occasionally even tripping. Her black evening dress was not suited for this environment, and she never had the stamina for chasing enemies.
Leaning on her knees and panting, Dora Keane regained her composure. “Let’s… see… you run… in the dark!” and just like that the snowy expanse around the two women was plunged into darkness.
Phantom Eagle stopped dead. She stood ankle deep in the snow without moving a muscle. Darkling grinned. It never failed. All humans had an innate fear of the dark. Even the bravest hero would become paralyzed and confused when their most critical sense was denied them.
She began to stride forward, unhurried now, taking the time to catch her breath. There would be no surprises this time, since she was blocking all forms of detectable light. Only Dora’s mystic senses could pierce the gloom.
Darkling drew a knife from the inside of her dress. She would strike by surprise, while her foe stood helplessly. Phantom Eagle still had not moved. She barely seemed to breathe.
Frozen with fear. The villainess chuckled quietly. She was just inches away from burying the steel blade into the teen girl’s neck…
… When suddenly, like a striking snake, the young aviator’s fist snapped out and caught the Sinister Shadowcaster in the middle of her face. Howling with pain, Darkling went down, and her shadow-field vanished as she lost her concentration.
Micki KOed the whimpering villain with two more hits. Darkling was a coward, unused to having her foes fight back.
The novice hero had been over-reliant on technology when the two had clashed in Spain. Micki’s father, the original Phantom Eagle, had used cutting edge technology, but he always taught her to trust herself and her own abilities.
This time, instead of rushing in, she let Darkling come to her, making enough noise to give away her position. That’s three down, if Marvin beat Chain Lightning. She thought. Only one to go.
As Kid Eternity faced down his arch-foe, he noticed two bald men with staffs, dressed in white kilts and Egyptian amulets. They appeared unaffected by the cold, and were chanting around the final mystic site.
“The only way you’ll stop Jannes and Jambres from completing the great spell in time, old enemy, is to get past me. This, I promise, will be your finish.”
“Talk is cheap Master Man. I’ll get through anything you can throw at me, and still stop those two-bit magicians with time to spare.”
“Then let there be an end to talk!” he raised his fisted hands above his head. “I’ll reach down into the very deeps of Hell and summon one of the greatest monsters in history. I call forth Anak, last of the Nephilim, father of all giants, Stygia!”
The column of hellfire was like a volcano, and as it dissolved the sight it revealed left even the champion of good gaping for a moment. Anak stood so tall the ice giants from before would have looked like dwarves by comparison. He was clothed only in waves of matted black fur, except for a horned helmet of metal on his head. His exposed flesh looked more like scales than skin. His red eyes shown from cave-like sockets, he carried a colossal metal-bound club of wood in his right hand, studded with spikes eight feet long.
Kit’s wasted second was almost his last. With a bestial roar the giant brought down his club only feet away, the spikes narrowly missing his intended victim. The resulting tidal wave of snow catapulted Kid Eternity head over heels, leaving him dazed and half-buried in snow.
“Kit! Kit! Say Eternity!” called Mr. Keeper, unable to stay silent as the giant moved in with snake-like speed.
“E. . . eternity.” The word was barely out of the Kid’s mouth when the club stuck dead on target. . . and passed harmlessly through the ghost boy. Kid had not been thinking of anybody in particular when he said his word, so by default it turned him back into a bodiless spirit.
For a moment, the giant cocked his head in puzzlement. Then he spoke, in a voice like a combination of a rockslide and an ambush of tigers growling.
“God-touched boy-spirit, I will need more than strength to destroy you.” A sickening ebon glow began to surround his club. Master Man watched his moment of triumph fixedly, almost giddy with glee.
Kid Eternity, however, had regained his wits. “I don’t fight bruisers like you alone buster. Eternity!”
In a cloud of white mist, shining brighter than the snow, a lone figure appeared to face down the titan. He was a roman Equitas, or mounted warrior, dressed in bronze composite armor colored white, and a white Corinthian helmet. On the left arm he wore a white parma equestris shield emblazoned with a red cross in place of the roman eagle. He braced a long wooden lance with iron shank under his right arm. At his belt he wore a spatha, the roman longsword used by cavalry.
“As my name is George the Dragonslayer, by the honor of my savior, I shall slay thee demonspawn!” And with this battle cry he charged the startled monster. Master Man was hardly fazed by this development. Anak would make short work of this paragon, and then finish off his mortal foe. The diabolical villain continued to watch intensely.
Anak was taken aback by the attack. Generally, his victims were too busy fleeing or pleading for their lives to resist. St. George charged, aiming his lance high and leaped from the horse’s back just as he reach the beast. The lance struck its target true, piercing Anak’s knee. With a startled cry, the giant fell over backward, unable to stand.
George landed gracefully and pressed his attack with his sword, abandoning his shield. Like a stinging insect he raced around and even over the monster, inflicting a dozen minor injuries with his spatha. The giant continued to rage and thrash, but was unable to strike his nimble target. After accidently hitting his own foot, he even threw away his own club.
Master Man was growing worried. It was starting to look like his invincible giant was as helpless against this knight as he would be against a hornet. He couldn’t take his eyes from the fight.
George slipped back onto his horse and, with his sword extended, road along the right side of the prone monster raking his flesh. His goal was to hamstring to brute, but he only managed in inflict a bleeding gash. Sweeping out with his right hand, Anak managed to knock the saint off his horse with a tidal-wave of snow and bury him in an instant snow-drift as large as a small hill.
Kid Eternity returned St. George to his eternal rest as the last of the Nephilim dragged himself to his feet and recovered his club, his injuries already healing. Master Man crowed with triumph.
“You see? The forces of good are no match for my armies! Once Anak recovers his strength, he’ll destroy you, and there’s nobody else in history with a chance of…”
Just then an overwhelming feeling swept over Master Man’s mystic senses. Before, the very air had seemed saturated with dark power. Now it felt like it was all draining away, like water rushing out of a tub. He could sense his spell frame work shattering and collapsing, the excess energy feeding back to the sites of power around the globe, causing them to explode as the black magic dissipated harmlessly into the universe.
Spinning around, he saw his final site in disarray, and both his magicians bound and gagged in glowing chains of white magic. The architect of his defeat was a middle-eastern man with a dark beard, purple robes, and a golden crown on his head.
“You fell for the old magician’s trick Master Man,.” said Kid Eternity, smiling in triumph. “You focused on what I wanted you to focus on. I knew St. George couldn’t defeat Anak alone, but I needed you distracted while Solomon took out the real target. Turnabout’s fair play, after all, you used the same trick on me.”
Master Man was not listening, only staring numbly and mumbling to himself “no… no… no…” with a roar like thunder columns of hellfire carried Anak and the two Egyptian priests back to the underworld. In their place, a new figure appeared, one that sent Master Man to his knees in horror and wiped the smile instantly from Kid Eternity’s face.
The figure appeared at first glance to be a man in an elegant black suit with a red cape. His hair was jet black, and slicked flat across his head, and a black goatee framed his frowning mouth. His appearance was rendered inhuman by livid red skin and a pair of horns that curved upward from his forehead.
That was how he appeared at first glance, but to the Kid’s mystic senses, this being fairly shown with dark power. His form expanded beyond the visible plane, and seemed to flicker between many shapes as Kit watched, some indescribable, some horrific, some simply strange. For a second, it even seemed the figure resembled a blond man in green armor.
“Please, Master, have mercy!” the villain begged. “I’ll succeed next time. I will! I WILL! I will bring victories that will make this… this… minor defeat seem…”
“You DARE talk to me of mercy?” Satan snapped, his voice sounding like lava simmering under a volcano. “You will spend the next ten thousand years paying off your debt to me for this debacle!” with a scream, Master Man vanished just as his servants had done.
Satan turned to address Kid Eternity. “Make no mistake boy, despite all the power I lost on this harebrained scheme, the war is not over.” With that, he too vanished.
“As long as there are good guys ready to stand up to bullies, the war will never end.” The Kid said to himself. He turned to find that the other young heroes had gathered silently behind him, prisoners in tow.
Kid Eternity smiled in triumph to see them safe and victorious. “Alright gang, let’s head for home!”
* * *
Hell on Earth, Epilogue
Kid Eternity radioed the NYCPD to have officers from the metahuman crimes division waiting at the Hall of Justice with equipment to take the three remaining members of the Confederation into custody.
They arrived to find the members of the Squadron of Justice waiting for them with baited breath. After hearty welcomes and congratulations were exchanged all around, both teams related their adventures in detail.
It turned out that the emergency call the Squadron received was a fake, just as Kid Eternity surmised. Chain Lightning had started the fire, but Isis had dealt with it with no trouble. Then she was caught in an energy field that slowed down her atoms till she was in stasis.
Her signal device must have been used to summon the other Squadron members. They all caught fleeting glimpses of three Japanese scientists operating a strange machine before the field enveloped them too. A glance at the files identified them as Doctors Hashi, Smashi, and Peeyu, all founding members of the Monster Society of Evil, who died in the bombing of Hiroshima.
When Master Man was taken away, the three evil scientists and their machine had likewise vanished. The Squadron members had returned to headquarters, just in time to catch the news reports of the evil power sites being destroyed. Ibis confirmed the harmless release of evil magic, and a review of the Hall’s security tapes told them all about how Kid Eternity had led the novice heroes into battle to save the world. In fact, they had been about to head to Greenland to assess the situation, when they detected the Squadron flier returning.
Everyone was thrilled by how the young heroes had saved the day and come home unhurt, no one more so than Ibis. He glowed with pride when he heard how his son had defeated Sabbac by out-thinking him, and also praised him for cleverly dissolving the spell of pain back in the Yucatan.
“A real wizard,” he said, “makes mistakes, survives them, and learns from them.”
Most of the young heroes had never met their idols in person, and found themselves left tongue-tied. Even for Kent, the experience was a heady one.
After the criminals were safely in custody, Captain Marvel convened an official meeting of the Squadron of Justice in the conference room, with the Hero Academy students in attendance.
“I want to formally congratulate all the members of our newly-christened Hero Academy for responding to this crisis so well. It appears our plan to use the Hall of Justice as a place to train budding heroes is off to an excellent start. Along with regular training in our gym, I propose that we pass suitable cases that the Squadron is asked to take up on to Kid Eternity and his recruits, to give them field experience.” Everyone at the table knew that the Squadron of Justice received hundreds of requests every day, and most of them were so low scale that the overburdened heroes had to put them on the back burner.
“I further propose that, as leader of the Hero Academy, Kid Eternity be henceforth accorded all the authorizations and privileges of a full member of the Squadron of Justice. This case has shown his has the need, the right, and the ability, as much as any of us do.”
Both proposals met with overwhelming support. Standing at the back of the room, Kit Freeman, Marvin Wyman, Micki Malone, and Kent Nelson all felt an overwhelming sense of elevation, to be treated as members, albeit junior members, of the greatest assembly of men and women in modern history. As these people, who they had considered legends, cheered them, the students of the Hero Academy all felt like they had just taken the first step on an epic journey into the future.
THE END