by Libbylawrence
Continued from The Forgotten Heroes: Terror in Tropidor
In a large forest stood a warehouse, the base of the latest incarnation of the Injustice Gang. However, it would be more accurate to say it was the headquarters of one incarnation of that fabled group of criminals, since another group had been operating for a while now using the new name of the Injustice League. (*)
[(*) Editor’s note: See The Conglomerate: Conglomeration and Amalgamation, Chapter 3: The Injustice League.]
This Mirror Master was the second man to claim that nom du crime. His real name was Floyd Ventris, and he had originally called himself the Mirror-Man. (*) In an attempt to disguise his true identity, he had gone so far as to employ a well-practiced accent to pose as a Scottish villain under the name of Angus McCulloch, the new Mirror Master. (*) Now, though, he sought to cash in on the notoriety of the original villain of that name, who was believed to have died in the Crisis on Infinite Earths. (*) Exactly how he had obtained both a similar costume and matching gear as those used by Sam Scudder was a secret he refused to share.
[(*) Editor’s note: See “The Mysterious Mirror-Man,” Detective Comics #213 (November, 1954), Hawkman and Hawkwoman: Mind Games, Chapter 1: As the World Slept, and “Death at the Dawn of Time,” Crisis on Infinite Earths #10 (January, 1986).]
The new Mirror Master had assembled a new group of costumed super-criminals and now housed them within the hidden warehouse. He sat at a large table and glanced at each member with a calm scrutiny.
A gaunt figure reading a massive tome wore a costume of brown that was lined with straw. His visage was frightening, and so was his manner. Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow, was quite pleased with the discomfort his costume caused others to suffer. He ignored his new allies as he continued to read his book, turning the pages quickly.
Mirror Master noticed that the pale man sitting next to the Scarecrow was visibly excited. He was Carl Sands, the Shadow-Thief, and he had recently been recruited from another team of rogues called the Crime Champions. (*) Sands rubbed his long fingers together, eager to begin their meeting. He felt relieved to be among old and new allies alike, since all of his previous team had been arrested by various heroes.
[(*) Editor’s note: See Showcase: The Force of July: The Crime Champions.]
Across from Sands sat an older man with a somewhat portly build and white hair. He wore an elaborately patterned cloak, which he fingered idly while he sat in silence. His name was Anton Lamont, the Fadeaway Man.
A sultry but lethal woman who wore a leafy green body stocking and tights cooed madly to a small vine that trailed across the table. “That’s my baby,” whispered Pamela Isley, also known as the infamous Poison Ivy, as she spoke to the vine. “Good girl.”
Nearby stood a man in purple and orange. A clock motif decorated his cloak and his chest. He was the Time Commander, and none of the others knew much about him beyond the fact that he was a master of chronal manipulation.
Mirror Master cleared his throat and said, “My friends, it is time we began our first project. I’ve spoken to each of you separately about your particular role in my little scheme. I have complete confidence that we shall soon succeed in achieving all our various goals.”
“I realize that you aren’t the original Mirror Master,” the Shadow-Thief said, “and thus you may not know that our past teamings, as recently as a year ago, have been less than successful.”
“That is an understatement from a living embodiment of the term,” the Scarecrow chimed in. “Surely you do not think that gathering us and bringing in rough approximations of the Tattooed Man and Chronos will help us achieve more than we have before.”
The Fadeaway Man harrumphed and said, “I, sir, am far more than a replacement for some brainless, engraved sailor! My cloak allows me to summon forth from its infinite contents any magical object I desire. The Tattooed Man could not say the same! Why, this cloak is linked to me, and the spell within its fiber will always return it to me no matter what distance separates us. The cloak even casts a spell of forgetfulness upon anyone who handles it in my place. Thus I was able to eventually reclaim the cloak when the Super-Scavenger robbed me of it for the Enchantress last year. (*) In fact, she now has no memory that she ever possessed it!”
[(*) Editor’s note: See Captain Comet’s Rehab Squad: Heroes and Villains, Chapter 1: Leave of Absence.]
The Fadeaway Man’s statement was met with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism by the other villains. The Time Commander, in particular, seemed unimpressed. “And I am obviously not Chronos,” he said. “David Clinton and I have little in common beyond our use of time. His use of it has been far less effective than mine, as evidenced by his many defeats.”
The Scarecrow snickered at the Time Commander’s comment. “While you have spent most of your career behind bars,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
The Time Commander’s face reddened with anger. “Look here, Crane!” he began, but the Scarecrow cut him off.
“That’s Professor Crane!” insisted the gaunt villain, sounding indignant.
Poison Ivy had been quietly observing the exchange. Gently inching closer to the Fadeaway Man, she asked, “Can you really produce anything from that cloak of yours? How wonderful! You and I must talk more closely when we are alone. I do so admire older and wiser men.”
The Fadeaway Man blinked in surprise and drew himself up with pride. “Indeed, girl. So we shall.”
The faux Mirror Master intervened, his voice calm and measured. “The fact that the Commander and the Fadeaway Man are new to our ranks is no reflection upon their skills or their merit,” he said. “I assure you all that this time we shall succeed. Think how our gifts complement each other.” The others half-nodded in agreement.
“We shall strike soon enough,” Mirror Master continued. “I have chosen Civic City. It currently hosts no heroes and thus will be an excellent target for our first efforts together.”
The Scarecrow’s interest was piqued. “They have a fine library there,” he said.
The Shadow-Thief, however, was more concerned with his usual preoccupation. “I admire your planning, but what of our old foes?” he asked. “I would like to have your help in dealing a swift and certain end to some individuals who have angered me.”
The Mirror Master smiled coldly. “Why not? We shall each slay a hero in the process of our work. Civic City may wait.”
The Shadow-Thief’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Hawkman and his pretty mate are the ones I want to see stuffed and mounted!” he exclaimed.
The others, however, had a different target in mind. “I want Batman!” they all replied at once.
The room erupted into chaos as the villains began to argue over who would get to kill Batman. The Mirror Master hammered the table with a gavel, restoring order. “I see much more unites us than our careers or talents,” he noted.
The Fadeaway Man spoke up, his voice filled with venom. “Hawkman and Batman have defeated me in the past. I hate them both.”
The Scarecrow’s eyes gleamed with malevolence. “I wish to teach Batman the meaning of fear,” he said.
The Time Commander nodded in agreement. “Batman and Green Lantern are my enemies. I support anything that hurts them.”
Poison Ivy cooed, her voice dripping with seduction. “And I want to prove Batman’s folly for his blind rejection of all I have to offer.”
The Mirror Master smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “One would indeed have to be blind not to see all you have to offer, my dear,” he said. “Unlike my predecessor, I hold no malice for the Flash. I have hatred for Batman as well, and for Hawkwoman. But since we cannot all have the thrill of causing the Batman to die, I suggest a simple compromise. We all attack heroes we have had little contact with before. Thus we experience new challenges while anticipating the eventual demises of the Hawks, the Lantern, and Batman!”
Poison Ivy smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Fine. Shall we draw names from your hood?”
The Mirror Master shrugged. “Why not? The novelty of the idea pleases me.”
***
The Flash Museum in Central City was one of Wally West’s favorite places to visit, adoring the way it honored his late uncle, and he loved sharing the experience with Frances Kane by his side. As they strolled through the museum, Frances wore a pink minidress and heels, while Wally wore a red shirt and jeans. Although she had been there before, she was willing to accompany him once more, listening as he excitedly recounted whispered tales relating to each display.
“That’s only an artist’s recreation,” Wally said, gesturing to a large poster. “Looks a bit like the work of one of Barry’s neighbors, a kid named Barney or something like that. Anyway, from what Uncle Barry told me, the bird-people he met below the surface world looked pretty much like the drawing.” (*)
[(*) Editor’s note: This refers to Barney Sands, first seen in “Challenge of the Cardboard Criminal,” The Flash #248 (April, 1977); the bird-people appear in “Return of the Super-Gorilla,” The Flash #107 (June-July, 1959).]
Frances smiled. “Well, we would not want to offend the bird-men with a bad picture,” she joked.
Wally grinned. “Okay, I get it. We’ve been here too long for a certain knockout of a blonde. How about a nice meal? The diner makes great hot dogs,” he suggested.
She laughed. “How can I resist such an offer, kind sir?”
Before they could continue their bantering exchange, the Time Commander made his entrance. “Perhaps I should recycle and reduce this display to its raw elements,” he said, holding out an hourglass that pulsed with an odd energy. The ray that flashed out of the hourglass around his neck struck a glass case and changed the glass to sand. “I merely moved the glass back through time until it transformed into its previous state.”
A thin woman turned to her portly husband and asked, “Harold, is this part of the tour?”
“Let’s get out of here, Mabel!” cried Harold.
The Time Commander laughed and aimed his weapon again. This time the beam hit a doorway, crumbling it to splinters. “I merely turned the wood into its condition decades from now. They just don’t make things like they used to,” he said.
Wally pushed Frances back. “Get back, honey!” he cried. “You know the drill!”
Frances nodded. “Be careful.”
Wally smiled. “That’s my middle name,” he said, changing to his Flash costume at super-speed and racing forward just as the Time Commander fired again. The hero gasped as the ray narrowly missed his speeding form. “Okay, Clock King, Time Bandit, Minute Master, or whoever you are — let’s take this outside!” he exclaimed.
The Time Commander frowned in annoyance. “Clock King? Clock King?! How dare you!” he said, raising his hourglass even as the Flash swept the tour group outside to safety in a precisely generated whirlwind.
The Flash thought to himself, This place honors Barry, and I’ll never let anybody hurt it.
The Time Commander had counted on the hero’s actions. He would be an easy mark by attacking those he cared for. The villain picked a new target, and Frances suddenly gasped as she was struck by the latest ray.
The Flash yelled as he returned in time to see the girl he loved emerge from behind a case. “No! I told her to get out!” the hero said.
Frances suddenly changed from a girl in a pink minidress to a girl in a pale green maternity dress. She was obviously pregnant and wore a wedding ring on one finger.
The Flash spun around as his foe moved closer and fired directly in his path. “I am smart enough to calculate your path, you dolt!” said the Time Commander. The Flash shuddered as his body shrunk slightly, and his costume changed from red to yellow to red again.
“I’ve moved you back in time to your youth!” the Time Commander explained.
The now-juvenile Flash, still wearing a nearly identical costume, slammed into the villain and knocked him senseless with a flurry of blows. “I had my powers when I was a Kid Flash. Now who is the dolt?” the Flash said with a smile as the villain collapsed.
In seconds, the Flash returned to normal, as did the pregnant Frances Kane. He raced up to her, since the Flash Museum was now empty, and the Time Commander was stunned on the floor. “He didn’t realize that making me a boy wouldn’t eliminate my speed. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, feeling confused. “What did he do to me?”
“It looked like he turned you into your future self!” the Flash replied.
Frances frowned. “And that future self is pregnant and married to someone!”
“It could have only been one of many possible futures,” the Flash explained. “That’s my experience in these matters, anyhow.” She nodded as he carried out the Time Commander.
The Flash smiled calmly, but his mind raced. If Frances is going to be married and have a kid, then does that mean I’m the husband and father? Is this a sign that we should move forward with our romance? I’ve got some heavy thinking to do after I drop this clown off to jail!
***
Back at the warehouse, the Mirror Master delivered the bad news to the others. “I fear Time Commander failed rather miserably,” he said. “He was almost an unknown quantity to me. I should never have recruited him. Still, even though he failed to kill the Flash, we did learn that he can’t be counted on. We weeded out a bad recruit.”
Poison Ivy whispered to the Shadow-Thief, “He was never a real man like you. I think we could all see that. Still, you and I are old pros. We could work together as something special!”
The Shadow-Thief smiled and said, “I like the way you talk, gorgeous!”
***
During her years as a beauty queen and pageant contestant, Daily Planet reporter Meg Tempest had spent plenty of time in front of mirrors. However, the perky brunette had never been trapped behind or inside a looking glass before. Thus, she screamed in fright and pressed her hands against the cold and unyielding glass in which her pretty form was encased.
The Mirror Master smiled and pressed his own face up against the glass. “Sorry, honey, but what better place for a looker like you than in a looking glass?” he joked.
Turning to the line of mirrors around the Daily Planet office, he boasted, “Having a patsy deliver my special mirrors to the paper was a stroke of genius! One look into them trapped each staff member.”
“You cheap punk!” yelled Perry White. “I’ll see you behind bars!”
Lois Lane added, “You’ve picked the wrong victims!”
The Mirror Master tapped on the mirror that imprisoned Lois Lane and said, “Ah-ah-ah! One wrong move, and it’s seven years bad luck for all of you!” He turned back to Perry White. “Now, you old goat, fork over the ransom I demanded, or see your staff shattered!”
“Forget about seven years bad luck,” said a stern voice. “You’ll be serving life if you hurt anyone!” Superman swooped down from above and faced the Mirror Master, using his X-ray vision to quickly peek under the man’s green mask. “You aren’t Sam Scudder, but you have his criminal urges. I’ll curb them now!”
The Mirror Master smiled broadly. “Don’t be a pane!”
Superman gasped as glass plates suddenly formed around them all. “Closing us in a mirror box won’t do you any good!” he said. However, when the Mirror Master fired a green gun, Superman yelped in pain. “That heat ray burned my hand,” he said. “You’ve robbed me of my powers!”
The Mirror Master faced the Man of Steel and said, “Right. These glasses filter the sunlight around us so that only red sun rays penetrate. That makes you helpless — and soon will make you dead!”
Superman tackled him and knocked the gun from his grasp. He connected with three rapid blows and left the shocked Mirror Master beaten. A touch to his foe’s belt controls freed them both and set free the captive staff from their own mirrors.
Lois frowned. “Superman, this new Mirror Master is as bad as the first one!”
Superman rubbed one hand and said, “No. He lacks Scudder’s experience. He assumed that I’d be an easy target without any powers.”
Lois smiled, saying, “He didn’t know that you are a hero even without super-powers.”