Post by redsycorax on Jul 30, 2019 1:43:23 GMT
Catman, Black Siren, the Streak, Green Guardsman and Tom Turbine were the legendary members of the Justice Guild of America, before their heroic self-sacrifice to save Seaboard City from a stray Soviet submarine ICBM. Later that night, all but one member of their antithesis, the Injustice Guild of America, also laid down their lives. But what about the youthful proteges of the JGA? What did Catgirl, Mynah, Boy Streak, Kid Guardsman and Tina Turbine do during their last hours on Earth-109?
++
"What if something happens to the Guild?" Mynah said what the rest of the Young Justice Guild, the teenage proteges and 'sidekicks' of Earth-109's premier superheroes were thinking.
Kid Guardsman crossed over: "If it does, then we take their place. We've trained for this. We have some experience ourselves under our belts. It may not come to that, Dorrie."
"They're our parents, or guardians. Do we have sufficient experience to deal with what happens after the war is over? High radioactivity, millions dead, millions more dying or severely injured, no hospitals, no police, probably no armed forces. We'll inherit that. And we'll be mourning them if they do make the ultimate sacrifice. Which they will." Tina Turbine added.
"That is, assuming we don't get hit in the crossfire. Did you hear the emergency news bulletin? The Russians are targeting smaller capitals and cities as well. Or what's left of the Russians." Catgirl pointed out.
"Four of us share the abilities of our parents or guardians. Tina has the same forcebelt as her father does, Simon Mason's power ring has the same strengths and weaknesses as his Uncle Scotts, Warrick Allon's top speed is the sound barrier, the same as that of his Uncle Jake, Dorrie has her Aunt Donna's sonic cry and I was trained by my stepfather Ted Blake. Besides, Direvale has only about a thousand inhabitants. We're not likely to get hit. The greatest problem we'll face will be the fallout downplumes from adjacent cities."
"Denise, how can you just sit there and say that as if it's meaningless? We're talking about flesh and blood human beings here."
Denise (Catgirl) Blake stood up: "Because, Simon, I have to do something and it's what Ted taught me to do in situations like this. Analyse the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats in our potential environment."
"I'm sorry, Denise. I didn't mean-"
"I know you didn't, Simon. We're all under severe psychological stress at the moment. And all that electromagnetic pulse interference means that we won't be able to get in touch with the Guild for the next few days."
"It's the waiting I hate, as much as anything." Warrick/Boy Streak said, looking out into the night through the polarised glass of the YJG clubhouse. Every now and then, a glaring pinpoint of light registered through it as Soviet ICBMs found another target. In the deep silent night, millions had already died, and millions more lay bleeding, severely burned or without hope of rescue.
"Why are we waiting? We should be out there, helping people, or saving them." Dorrie asked.
Denise pointed to the shelter doors:
"Because Ted and Tom made sure that they were unopenable unless the worst happened. We'll need radiation suits for outside if we do venture out of here-" Catgirl's remark was truncated by a loud snapping sound. The members of the Young Justice Guild looked at one another, realising what it must mean. Hundreds of miles away, the Justice Guild of America had perished in valiant self-sacrifice. Denise let a single tear slide down her face as she said:
"Let's get moving and do what they wanted us to do. It's our best way of paying tribute to their memories."
"Are we agreed? Yes? Dad said the rad suits were just through the airlock...ah. There they are, specifically engineered for flight and energy manipulation in Simon's case and superspeed for you, Warrick."
It was unlikely that a comprehensive history of what would come to be known as Doomsnight (October 28, 1962) would ever be written. Roads were destroyed or rendered impassible by debris or ruined bridges, twisted metal argosies of cars and trucks and the skeletal remains of the individuals who were trying to escape the apocalypse that had consumed them despite their precautions. Cities were aflame with fire, gas explosions, dust and debris percolating upward into the ravaged atmosphere. The spectacle and scale of destruction was hideous. Realising that they couldn't rescue everyone, the Young Justice Guild worked throughout the night, sifting or uplifting debris, ferrying wounded individuals to the nearest operational medical facilities, and detaining looters and criminals from exploiting the situation. At the time that morning should have occurred, a wan orange outline briefly registered throughout the smoke and burning wreckage of what had once been the United States.
"Okay, everyone. That's it for this evening."
"No. No, we have to keep working-"
"Simon, we've been doing this for the last eight hours. If we work on through the day, we'll be exhausted and we'll start to make mistakes. People may die as the result of that."
"They'll die anyway if we can't or won't rescue them." Kid Guardsman snapped.
"Triage, Simon. I'm sorry, but we won't be able to save everyone. Not with this scale of injuries, damage and deaths."
"Damn you to hell, Denise. The rest of you can stay in the shelter. I'm going to keep working. End of story."
"Simon-!" Denise called.
"Let him go, Denise. He started coughing up blood a few hours ago. Either his rad suit was faulty or he exceeded its tolerance levels when he flew too near a city fallout zone."
"Warrick, why didn't you tell us earlier?"
"Scott Mason was his uncle. They were close. He probably thinks that it's the best way he can live up to the Green Guardsman's legacy and example." Tina Turbine said, laying a hand on her friends shoulder. Denise held up a geiger counter:
"At least none of the rest of us have fatal dosages. But we're down to four, now."
"Reminds me. I didn't want to say anything, but why isn't Ray Thompson here?" Warrick asked.
"He'd only get in the way anyway. He's too young to make any difference." Denise replied.
"It's a shame that Scott and Simon weren't members of any greater organisation than themselves. It would've been good to have had another Green or Kid Guardsman...or Guardswoman...around to help." Dorrie observed.
Abruptly, the land below them shook: "Another blast?"
Warrick crossed to the surveillance console: "Distance estimates suggest that it'll probably be Minneapolis."
"Almost eighty thousand people dead...in the blink of an eye. And we're powerless to help."
"We can direct any medical services still available to that area."
"How? They're all concentrated elsewhere in the state. And the EMP disabled motor vehicle-" Denise broke off as Warrick disappeared from the room. Numbly, they watched as the suited form accelerated toward a medical hub, then another, and several more, all the time exposing himself to fallout from the adjacent impact sites in surrounding states. He didn't rest for several hours before relatively intact hospitals were fully supplied. By then, though, it was too late for him, as he faltered and fell to the ground, scarcely moving and then was still. Denise, Dorrie and Tina looked at one another.
"Both of them, gone. Just like that."
Tina spoke up: "And we have to be ready to do just that ourselves."
"But if we do, there'll be no metahumans left to assist the other survivors." Dorrie protested.
"What would our mentors have said?" Denise said, nodding at what Tina had said.
"Besides, look what Warrick did. He sacrificed his life to insure other people pulled through this."
"It's all right for you two. You're the niece and adopted daughter of the Worlds Greatest. I'm..."
"A gifted and talented person who is proficient at all manner of Eastern martial arts, Dorrie. We need you."
"All right. Just give me time to check our suits."
Dorrie Vance was the third of them to die that night, felled by a militia bullet as she protected the people of a Grand Rapids suburb from an incursion by the denizens of a shattered and ruined prison near the ruins of Minneapolis. As they laid her body into a pit, Denise said through a suit radio:
"Look, we can't do this alone, Tina. Not just the two of us."
"So, what are you thinking? Canada? I thought they'd lost Ottawa and Vancouver?" Tina asked
"They have, but they were less heavily hit than the United States." Denise replied
"That's still about six hundred thousand people dead and probably about a million injured. They've only got a population of nineteen million. Their medical resources will be stretched to the limit. And they might blame us for what happened to those poor people in those cities." Tina observed.
"We don't have any choice, Tina. We're just two women and we can't singlehandedly assist the millions of people who need our help."
"All right, Denise. Let's make for the border."
When they got to the Canadian-United States border, however, matters were tense. When they reached International Falls, they were startled to witness barbed wire and Canadian troops on the far side, heavily armed: "But I thought the Soviets hadn't targeted Toronto?"
"They haven't, but I guess they're overloaded as it is with Ottawa and Vancouver."
"That doesn't excuse them shooting already injured refugees, Tina."
"The problem is, if we, as American superheroes, attack the armed forces of Canada engaged in border control duties and unintentionally kill or injure them, we risk worsening an already nightmarish situation. So it's diplomacy time." Tina strode forward, toward the assembled Canadian forces on the far side:
"Can I talk to the commanding officer here?"
"Look, we're sorry. Surely you understand that there's a risk from cholera or typhus from your side of the border?"
"I am deeply sorry for what happened to your people in Ottawa and Vancouver."
The haggard Canadian Army captain managed a shaky smile:
"Yeah, well, you didn't fire the missiles at them in the first place, lady."
"Is there any way that you can provide assistance to people on our side of the border?"
The Captain shook his head: "Lady, we don't like having to do this. There are innocent kids suffering and dying over there, old people, I hate having to do that. But please understand, we have limited resources of our own. We are truly sorry."
"I know. This war had no winners." Tina walked away from the Cabinet side of the border, shaking her head in sorrow:
"They won't let us through."
"We can't just sit here and do nothing, Tina."
"We have no choice, Denise. We can't condone a cross-border invasion. It would mean that precious resources are wasted here while lives might be saved elsewhere."
"Why does the Silver Age that our mentor and parents represented seem so long ago? How can we make these decisions? Who gave us the right to play Solomon?"
"I'm not sure that we have the authority anyway. All we can do is hope that the situation doesn't get out of control. We're needed here, even if it's to lessen the ordeal of the dying and keep the peace."
And a month later, there was no crowd. There were rows of graves and the names of the dead inscribed on them. Denise sobbed:
"It almost never seemed to end, did it?"
"We did everything we could."
"It was a nuclear war, Denise. Nothing that we could do, nothing that the Justice Guild could have done, could have averted what happened."
"What do we do now? As you said, we don't have the power to keep the ruins of this country from anarchy and madness."
"We were supposed to protect the United States. But the trouble is, we couldn't protect it from its own darkest self. Come on. It's time that we moved on. Hello, Captain."
"If it's any consolation, we have similar problems on this side of the line. We could do with some good heroic souls to help us cope. Do you ladies want to become Canadian citizens?"
"Sure. Why not? At least you have a functioning central government and law and order. We have a lot of things to forget."
"I don't think we can ever forget this. It'll haunt us forever." Amidst the silence and desolation of the abandoned border post, Catgirl and Tina Turbine walked away. There were no more remote cries, no more grieving sobs, no more recriminations and no more screams of pain or unresolvable suffering. There were starving people in shattered and irradiated farm fields, lawless raider gangs, and some of the cities still disgorged dust, smoke and debris into the atmosphere. But if they stopped to think about that, despair and sorrow would claim their minds and souls. Once they crossed into Canadian territory, neither woman looked back.
Although they had survived, the Young Justice Guild had perished with their comrades, faced with demands that exceeded even determination and the contributions they made, despite the scale and scope of the tragedy that faced them. Yet Mynah, Kid Guardsman and Boy Streak died heroes, and in times to come, Canadians would speak of Catwoman and Ms. Turbine as their own, respected and admired for their manifold contributions to postwar Canadian society. But some things can never be healed. Whenever their duties took them near the desolate overgrown border bridges and barriers, they felt heartache and pain for what and whom they had lost -mentors, parents, friends and a country.
THE END
++
"What if something happens to the Guild?" Mynah said what the rest of the Young Justice Guild, the teenage proteges and 'sidekicks' of Earth-109's premier superheroes were thinking.
Kid Guardsman crossed over: "If it does, then we take their place. We've trained for this. We have some experience ourselves under our belts. It may not come to that, Dorrie."
"They're our parents, or guardians. Do we have sufficient experience to deal with what happens after the war is over? High radioactivity, millions dead, millions more dying or severely injured, no hospitals, no police, probably no armed forces. We'll inherit that. And we'll be mourning them if they do make the ultimate sacrifice. Which they will." Tina Turbine added.
"That is, assuming we don't get hit in the crossfire. Did you hear the emergency news bulletin? The Russians are targeting smaller capitals and cities as well. Or what's left of the Russians." Catgirl pointed out.
"Four of us share the abilities of our parents or guardians. Tina has the same forcebelt as her father does, Simon Mason's power ring has the same strengths and weaknesses as his Uncle Scotts, Warrick Allon's top speed is the sound barrier, the same as that of his Uncle Jake, Dorrie has her Aunt Donna's sonic cry and I was trained by my stepfather Ted Blake. Besides, Direvale has only about a thousand inhabitants. We're not likely to get hit. The greatest problem we'll face will be the fallout downplumes from adjacent cities."
"Denise, how can you just sit there and say that as if it's meaningless? We're talking about flesh and blood human beings here."
Denise (Catgirl) Blake stood up: "Because, Simon, I have to do something and it's what Ted taught me to do in situations like this. Analyse the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats in our potential environment."
"I'm sorry, Denise. I didn't mean-"
"I know you didn't, Simon. We're all under severe psychological stress at the moment. And all that electromagnetic pulse interference means that we won't be able to get in touch with the Guild for the next few days."
"It's the waiting I hate, as much as anything." Warrick/Boy Streak said, looking out into the night through the polarised glass of the YJG clubhouse. Every now and then, a glaring pinpoint of light registered through it as Soviet ICBMs found another target. In the deep silent night, millions had already died, and millions more lay bleeding, severely burned or without hope of rescue.
"Why are we waiting? We should be out there, helping people, or saving them." Dorrie asked.
Denise pointed to the shelter doors:
"Because Ted and Tom made sure that they were unopenable unless the worst happened. We'll need radiation suits for outside if we do venture out of here-" Catgirl's remark was truncated by a loud snapping sound. The members of the Young Justice Guild looked at one another, realising what it must mean. Hundreds of miles away, the Justice Guild of America had perished in valiant self-sacrifice. Denise let a single tear slide down her face as she said:
"Let's get moving and do what they wanted us to do. It's our best way of paying tribute to their memories."
"Are we agreed? Yes? Dad said the rad suits were just through the airlock...ah. There they are, specifically engineered for flight and energy manipulation in Simon's case and superspeed for you, Warrick."
It was unlikely that a comprehensive history of what would come to be known as Doomsnight (October 28, 1962) would ever be written. Roads were destroyed or rendered impassible by debris or ruined bridges, twisted metal argosies of cars and trucks and the skeletal remains of the individuals who were trying to escape the apocalypse that had consumed them despite their precautions. Cities were aflame with fire, gas explosions, dust and debris percolating upward into the ravaged atmosphere. The spectacle and scale of destruction was hideous. Realising that they couldn't rescue everyone, the Young Justice Guild worked throughout the night, sifting or uplifting debris, ferrying wounded individuals to the nearest operational medical facilities, and detaining looters and criminals from exploiting the situation. At the time that morning should have occurred, a wan orange outline briefly registered throughout the smoke and burning wreckage of what had once been the United States.
"Okay, everyone. That's it for this evening."
"No. No, we have to keep working-"
"Simon, we've been doing this for the last eight hours. If we work on through the day, we'll be exhausted and we'll start to make mistakes. People may die as the result of that."
"They'll die anyway if we can't or won't rescue them." Kid Guardsman snapped.
"Triage, Simon. I'm sorry, but we won't be able to save everyone. Not with this scale of injuries, damage and deaths."
"Damn you to hell, Denise. The rest of you can stay in the shelter. I'm going to keep working. End of story."
"Simon-!" Denise called.
"Let him go, Denise. He started coughing up blood a few hours ago. Either his rad suit was faulty or he exceeded its tolerance levels when he flew too near a city fallout zone."
"Warrick, why didn't you tell us earlier?"
"Scott Mason was his uncle. They were close. He probably thinks that it's the best way he can live up to the Green Guardsman's legacy and example." Tina Turbine said, laying a hand on her friends shoulder. Denise held up a geiger counter:
"At least none of the rest of us have fatal dosages. But we're down to four, now."
"Reminds me. I didn't want to say anything, but why isn't Ray Thompson here?" Warrick asked.
"He'd only get in the way anyway. He's too young to make any difference." Denise replied.
"It's a shame that Scott and Simon weren't members of any greater organisation than themselves. It would've been good to have had another Green or Kid Guardsman...or Guardswoman...around to help." Dorrie observed.
Abruptly, the land below them shook: "Another blast?"
Warrick crossed to the surveillance console: "Distance estimates suggest that it'll probably be Minneapolis."
"Almost eighty thousand people dead...in the blink of an eye. And we're powerless to help."
"We can direct any medical services still available to that area."
"How? They're all concentrated elsewhere in the state. And the EMP disabled motor vehicle-" Denise broke off as Warrick disappeared from the room. Numbly, they watched as the suited form accelerated toward a medical hub, then another, and several more, all the time exposing himself to fallout from the adjacent impact sites in surrounding states. He didn't rest for several hours before relatively intact hospitals were fully supplied. By then, though, it was too late for him, as he faltered and fell to the ground, scarcely moving and then was still. Denise, Dorrie and Tina looked at one another.
"Both of them, gone. Just like that."
Tina spoke up: "And we have to be ready to do just that ourselves."
"But if we do, there'll be no metahumans left to assist the other survivors." Dorrie protested.
"What would our mentors have said?" Denise said, nodding at what Tina had said.
"Besides, look what Warrick did. He sacrificed his life to insure other people pulled through this."
"It's all right for you two. You're the niece and adopted daughter of the Worlds Greatest. I'm..."
"A gifted and talented person who is proficient at all manner of Eastern martial arts, Dorrie. We need you."
"All right. Just give me time to check our suits."
Dorrie Vance was the third of them to die that night, felled by a militia bullet as she protected the people of a Grand Rapids suburb from an incursion by the denizens of a shattered and ruined prison near the ruins of Minneapolis. As they laid her body into a pit, Denise said through a suit radio:
"Look, we can't do this alone, Tina. Not just the two of us."
"So, what are you thinking? Canada? I thought they'd lost Ottawa and Vancouver?" Tina asked
"They have, but they were less heavily hit than the United States." Denise replied
"That's still about six hundred thousand people dead and probably about a million injured. They've only got a population of nineteen million. Their medical resources will be stretched to the limit. And they might blame us for what happened to those poor people in those cities." Tina observed.
"We don't have any choice, Tina. We're just two women and we can't singlehandedly assist the millions of people who need our help."
"All right, Denise. Let's make for the border."
When they got to the Canadian-United States border, however, matters were tense. When they reached International Falls, they were startled to witness barbed wire and Canadian troops on the far side, heavily armed: "But I thought the Soviets hadn't targeted Toronto?"
"They haven't, but I guess they're overloaded as it is with Ottawa and Vancouver."
"That doesn't excuse them shooting already injured refugees, Tina."
"The problem is, if we, as American superheroes, attack the armed forces of Canada engaged in border control duties and unintentionally kill or injure them, we risk worsening an already nightmarish situation. So it's diplomacy time." Tina strode forward, toward the assembled Canadian forces on the far side:
"Can I talk to the commanding officer here?"
"Look, we're sorry. Surely you understand that there's a risk from cholera or typhus from your side of the border?"
"I am deeply sorry for what happened to your people in Ottawa and Vancouver."
The haggard Canadian Army captain managed a shaky smile:
"Yeah, well, you didn't fire the missiles at them in the first place, lady."
"Is there any way that you can provide assistance to people on our side of the border?"
The Captain shook his head: "Lady, we don't like having to do this. There are innocent kids suffering and dying over there, old people, I hate having to do that. But please understand, we have limited resources of our own. We are truly sorry."
"I know. This war had no winners." Tina walked away from the Cabinet side of the border, shaking her head in sorrow:
"They won't let us through."
"We can't just sit here and do nothing, Tina."
"We have no choice, Denise. We can't condone a cross-border invasion. It would mean that precious resources are wasted here while lives might be saved elsewhere."
"Why does the Silver Age that our mentor and parents represented seem so long ago? How can we make these decisions? Who gave us the right to play Solomon?"
"I'm not sure that we have the authority anyway. All we can do is hope that the situation doesn't get out of control. We're needed here, even if it's to lessen the ordeal of the dying and keep the peace."
And a month later, there was no crowd. There were rows of graves and the names of the dead inscribed on them. Denise sobbed:
"It almost never seemed to end, did it?"
"We did everything we could."
"It was a nuclear war, Denise. Nothing that we could do, nothing that the Justice Guild could have done, could have averted what happened."
"What do we do now? As you said, we don't have the power to keep the ruins of this country from anarchy and madness."
"We were supposed to protect the United States. But the trouble is, we couldn't protect it from its own darkest self. Come on. It's time that we moved on. Hello, Captain."
"If it's any consolation, we have similar problems on this side of the line. We could do with some good heroic souls to help us cope. Do you ladies want to become Canadian citizens?"
"Sure. Why not? At least you have a functioning central government and law and order. We have a lot of things to forget."
"I don't think we can ever forget this. It'll haunt us forever." Amidst the silence and desolation of the abandoned border post, Catgirl and Tina Turbine walked away. There were no more remote cries, no more grieving sobs, no more recriminations and no more screams of pain or unresolvable suffering. There were starving people in shattered and irradiated farm fields, lawless raider gangs, and some of the cities still disgorged dust, smoke and debris into the atmosphere. But if they stopped to think about that, despair and sorrow would claim their minds and souls. Once they crossed into Canadian territory, neither woman looked back.
Although they had survived, the Young Justice Guild had perished with their comrades, faced with demands that exceeded even determination and the contributions they made, despite the scale and scope of the tragedy that faced them. Yet Mynah, Kid Guardsman and Boy Streak died heroes, and in times to come, Canadians would speak of Catwoman and Ms. Turbine as their own, respected and admired for their manifold contributions to postwar Canadian society. But some things can never be healed. Whenever their duties took them near the desolate overgrown border bridges and barriers, they felt heartache and pain for what and whom they had lost -mentors, parents, friends and a country.
THE END