by Libbylawrence
Far beneath the Atlantic Ocean existed a marvelous city with a wonderful community devoted to science and study, and the development of healthy minds and bodies. The peaceful realm was ruled by a lovely woman named Queen Klitra. The raven-haired woman was beloved by her female subjects. These unaging Mermazons, as they were called, led tranquil lives below the waves. They did not age, and thus had no real concern about the need for offspring. They seemed content to devote their lives to self-improvement and the betterment of their kingdom. They were able to breathe both air and water, but spent most of their lives under the sea. Within the safety of the huge royal palace known as the Crystal Citadel, air-breathers could thrive without fear of drowning alongside the water-breathing Mermazons.
Queen Klitra herself was a woman in love. She had been reunited with a lost lover, Lieutenant Jim Lockhart who was also known as the Red Torpedo, when he and his heroic allies in the Freedom Fighters had awakened from over forty-five years within a type of suspended animation. A scientific device in the form of a bio-monitor that was designed to detect specific metabolisms had been activated when the Torpedo stepped out of his frozen slumber below Nazi Germany to face a brave new world. He and his friends had not aged during their imprisonment, and thus they were still young men with little awareness of the way time had passed them by. Queen Klitra had brought them to her realm, and her subjects had begun working to make their transition back into modern civilization as painless as possible for the heroes. Each of them had reacted to their plight in a different way.
Queen Klitra knew her Jim had lost his fiancée Peggy Norse to a heart condition mere months before he had first met the undersea queen in 1940. (*) Klitra had comforted him after that loss, and had renewed confidence that she could heal his other emotional wounds now that they had been miraculously reunited after so many years.
[(*) Editor’s note: See The Red Torpedo, Crack Comics #7 (November, 1940); although the Earth-X Peggy Norse died, the Earth-Two version of Peggy Norse survived to marry Jim Lockhart and bear his son, who became the father of Kelli Lockhart and inherited the original Red Torpedo craft; see Doctor Occult and the Seven: Forgotten Legacies, Chapter 1: The Torpedo. In order to understand how there could simultaneously be two versions of Peggy Norse, one dead and one alive, see the upcoming story DC Universe: The Secret Origin of Earth-X.]
The Red Torpedo had taken his heroic name after the remarkable craft he had initially built in a secret cove in Maine and had continually updated and improved. The vehicle had originally been an advanced submarine but had soon been modified into a plane, and he had used it not only to explore both the oceans and the skies, but also to fight criminals, including one especially deadly foe known as the Black Shark. The Mermazon scientist Alchema had recreated the craft, adding improvements of her own design.
Between being reunited with Klitra and finding new technologies to embrace and master, the Red Torpedo had dealt rather well with the knowledge that he had been asleep for well over forty years in the custody of the Axis forces. He was eager to use his skills to resume the fight against his foes, and he was more than a little angry at learning that a Nazi agent in the SS Ubermenschen had used his name for a time. (*) “I can’t wait to run into that guy!” he had vowed, especially since he knew that the Nazi Red Torpedo was now calling himself the Black Shark, causing him to wonder if there was a family connection with the original. (*)
[(*) Editor’s note: See Freedom Fighters: The Fight Continues, Chapter 15: The SS Ubermenschen and The Red Torpedo, Crack Comics #5 (September, 1940).]
For the most part, though, the Red Torpedo had adjusted to the situation very well. The ruggedly handsome man clad all in red sat next to the black-haired Klitra, and held her hand even as he watched an uneven combat play out nearby beneath the gleaming spires of the Crystal Citadel.
A tall, beautiful woman was warily circling a dark brown-haired man on a padded mat designed for athletic practice.
The woman had long, pale golden hair drawn back in one long braid. She wore a red and gold breastplate with a brief metal-ribbed skirt and laced sandals. A gleaming sword hung from a weapon’s belt slung across one hip.
The Valkyrie laughed loudly as she watched her foe. “Friend Kent, you surprise me with your perplexing intensity,” she said. “You approach each combat with a somber demeanor or even a reluctance that is at odds with your impressive mortal skills!”
Kent Thurston, the Invisible Hood, was an intelligent-looking man with brown hair and an agile but muscular frame. He wore a brown hooded cloak, although the hood itself was pushed back to rest on his shoulders.
Dodging the Nordic woman, Kent replied, “Kriemhild, unlike you and your Valkyrie sisters, I don’t really like to fight. I mastered various forms of martial arts and boxing, along with more cerebral skills, in order to prepare myself to do some good in the world. I was raised by my wealthy grandfather after my policeman father was killed. We agreed that I would use his wealth to equip myself to fight for justice and not be hampered by red tape. I guess I see fighting as just one tactic out of a possible many.”
He grunted as the Valkyrie tripped him and sent him crashing to the floor. Placing one foot upon his chest, she then smiled winningly as she extended a hand to help him up. “Kent, you should savor each battle as did my people long ago!” she chided him.
Kent nodded ruefully and said, “Yes, almost as much as I’d savor spending weeks in traction!” He frowned as he watched the Valkyrie walk away with that sultry stride he had come to admire.
Somewhere within that shield maiden is a brilliant German scholar named Angelika Muller, he thought, but Asgardian magic turned her into the modern embodiment of Kriemhild, an honest-to-Odin Norse Valkyrie, and I don’t think she has any intention of ever returning to her mortal self again!
Kent shrugged as he started to pull his hood over his head. The garment had been treated with a chemical developed by a brilliant scientist named Professor Van Dorn, who died shortly after Kent had captured his killers. The dying man, having given the power of invisibility to Kent, made him promise to only use it for good. (*) Later on Kent discovered that he could make his cloak visible once more by concentrating greatly while wearing it even while his hood was on, but he found it much simpler to become invisible each time he pulled on the hood.
[Editor’s note: See Invisible Justice, Smash Comics #2 (September, 1939).]
Now, Kent frowned as he thought about a new power that he had suddenly manifested during their flight from Germany. I can teleport myself within my line of sight, he thought. I don’t know how I gained this power, but it must have developed during the years the Axis were trying to duplicate my hood and my friends’ super-powers! I’m going to need to master that power if I’m going to pull my weight alongside super-humans like Magno and Neon.
Making himself briefly visible again in order to wave goodbye to Red Torpedo and Queen Klitra, he made his way invisibly to the room the Mermazon queen had given him. He entered the small but comfortable chamber and began to flip through a stack of files. I’m amazed that Miss America was able to recreate my old crime files by just allowing Neon to link us all with his mental powers and have her use her magical ability to tap directly into my own memories and perfectly restore my files in physical form!
Kent glanced at the complex set of files he had created during the course of his short career as a crime-fighter. Looking at a photo of a dignified man with graying hair and a sultry young woman with black hair who were standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, he tossed it aside. I’m wasting my time! What good is a file on people like Senator Henry Knight and his daughter Sandra, when the poor guy is probably long dead by now, and his daughter is probably an old grandmother? Senator Knight may have sponsored an important anti-crime bill back in the late ’30s, but that’s ancient history now. My files are obsolete, and I’m afraid I am, too!
He stopped and picked up the Manila file folder as his teammates came to mind once more. Why am I being so selfish? At least I have my memories. Poor Joan Dale recalls that she is Miss America, but has no emotional connection to that fact. She doesn’t seem to even care that she’s walking around like some kind of zombie! She knows how to use her alchemical powers, but she admits that it comes from some instinct and not from true memories.
Replacing his file, he resolved to try to help the troubled woman if he could.
***
Elsewhere, a solitary man stood on an enclosed observation platform in the Crystal Citadel and gazed out at the other crystalline spires of the underwater city. He had dark hair and wore a costume of different shades of blue. A red bandana rested on his head.
His name was Tom Corbet, but he had been known mainly as Neon the Unknown for the last year and a half, at least as his memories told him; he knew forty-five years had been added to that time while he and the others had slept. While he seemed to be staring at the city around him, he was, in fact, using his considerable mental powers to attempt to learn more about how the world had changed during his time in captivity with the other Freedom Fighters.
Based on what Klitra told us and what little I was able to learn from my past visions, the Axis forces managed to win the war after nearly thirty years of combat, intrigue, and betrayal by infiltrators. When they were defeated in the ’70s, peace resumed, but even that has ended, and the Nazis are back trying to rule the world!
Neon sighed heavily. I was always an idealist, he thought. I joined the Foreign Legion to make a difference in the world. My fellow soldiers laughed at my lofty ideals, but they came to respect me after they realized I was sincere. I have to admit that I’m rather disillusioned to learn that the Nazis and their evil has survived and even flourished over the last forty years! The group that held us captive wasn’t some isolated splinter group of fanatics as we had first suspected. They were part of a larger culture of evil that first saw light back when I was plain old Tom Corbet! That was before I found that strange oasis and drank from its weird waters. Those waters changed me into a being of pure neonic energy and made me what I am today. (*) The question is — what do I do next? My powers have waxed and waned over time, and I can’t be certain what my limits really are!
[Editor’s note: See Neon the Unknown, Hit Comics #1 (July, 1940).]
He smiled grimly. I guess I should start close to home. I was able to determine that Uncle Sam seems to still be alive and well. I also sense some odd aura that suggests that Miss America is both here and also in California. I suppose that could be the reason Joan is so lifeless. Could her mystical matter-transmutation powers have resulted in a fragmentation or dispersal of her body until she now exists in two separate forms? he wondered.
***
Meanwhile, in a room above his location, the final two Freedom Fighters were sitting across from one another.
Miss America, a lovely woman with black hair and a red, white, and blue costume, sat silently on a cot as a handsome man with reddish blonde hair and sensitive eyes watched her. He wore a brief red costume with blue boots and a cape, and his arms were bare except for matching wristbands. He was Magno the Miracle Man while in costume, but in his civilian role as Atlas Electric’s Tom Dalton he was a mild-mannered dreamer.
When I had that accident and died after being shocked by 10,000 volts of direct current, my panicked boss Mike Harvey brought me back to life by reviving me with an equal amount of active current, he thought. I awoke with super-powers, and I used my heightened senses, electrical powers, and magnetic abilities to fight crime as Magno. I had to let poor Mike think I was a frail weakling or a hypochondriac in order to leave work often enough to spring into action as Magno. I guess he’s dead by now. I feel guilty that I never had a chance to tell him that I was more than he imagined!
He shook his head and took Miss America’s hands in his own. Although she allowed him to do so, she showed no interest in his actions.
“Joan, honey, I know we’ve talked and talked about it all, but can’t you remember anything more about yourself?” he asked. “What kind of pie do you like? Do you have a thing for Clark Gable? You worked for the Daily Star — did you like it? What about that FBI agent you worked with back in 1941 — Healey — did you tell him you were Miss America?”
She shook her head and said, “I can’t remember. My memories seem to have faded even more since I found myself with all of you when we were attacked by the sea monster! I may eventually lose all memory, but I don’t feel anything at the prospect.”
Magno hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward and gently kissed her. “How about that? Did you feel anything then?” he asked.
Miss America looked at him and then shook her head. “I know you meant that as a gesture of affection, but it didn’t make me feel a thing.”
Magno smiled ruefully as he led her toward the door. “You’re not the first pretty girl to say that to me!” he joked. “C’mon, let’s go find Neon. He might be able to guide us all with those mental powers of his.”
They made their way to the observation platform where Neon the Unknown had been joined by the Invisible Hood, the Valkyrie, and Red Torpedo. But as the reunited Freedom Fighters drew closer to one another, Neon frowned and clutched his head.
Magno frowned. “What’s wrong, pal? You look like you’ve got a migraine!”
Neon raised one hand and cried out, “We’re in danger! I thought I’d lost my danger sense, but it is working now! I’ve got to shield us quickly!” As he concentrated, a purple aura of energy surrounded them all, while Magno strengthened it with his own force-field.
Within moments, the energy had faded, leaving Neon to stare vacantly into space. “It is over — the danger has passed!” he said. “Though I think that warning sense of mine is truly gone for good now, and this danger was strong enough to reactivate it only temporarily.”
Having drawn her sword, Valkyrie now posed agilely on the balls of her feet as if ready to spring into action at any second. “What is this peril you speak of, Neon?” asked the blonde warrior woman.
“I once battled a cult — a group of four Tibetan lamas,” Neon began. “They had the ability to unite their sinister minds and control — even kill — their victims from a distance, purely by the power of thought. I defeated them easily; their united minds couldn’t stand up to my own. (*) Well, moments ago I felt a powerful intelligence that literally dwarfed their powers striking out — not just at us, but around the world! I can’t explain it, but I knew I had to try to block it lest it claim us all, just as it may have already dominated every other mind in the world above!”
[(*) Editor’s note: See Neon the Unknown, Hit Comics #7 (January, 1941).]
The Invisible Hood spoke up. “Was it some type of Nazi super-weapon — or even a threat from beyond this planet?”
Red Torpedo whistled softly. “Aliens? Are you suggesting men from Mars?”
The Invisible Hood smiled and said, “No, that would sound incredible to the guy who built his own Jules Verne mobile in his backyard!”
The Torpedo shrugged and said, “You have me there!”
“The threat was of this world,” said Neon. “I know that much. I can’t trace it, but I do have an idea. We need to locate the other Miss America. As you know, I sensed both our Miss America here and somehow a second matching presence in California.”
Miss America said, “If you think you can help me regain some semblance of normalcy, I would be very appreciative of your help.”
Magno put his arm around her and said, “We’ll help you, honey. We’ll all help you. Then, with your powers and your know-how restored, we’ll take care of this mystery threat.”
“I’ll get the ship ready,” said the Red Torpedo. “As they like to say… California, here we come!”