A tall, beautiful, bronze-haired woman who appears to be about twenty-five, her clothes what one imagines the smart set would wear, looks out over the observation deck of the 200-foot observation tower - a sixteen-story glass and metal extension shaped like an inverted test tube buttressed by great flaring corner piers. Though the design of the Empire State Building is pleasing in itself, it had been widely criticized for a lack of unity in its relation to the shaft.

A man approaches from behind her, and rests on the barrier overlooking the view. She inhales deeply, and turns to look at him. He reminds her rather of Hoagy Carmichael, but there is something cold and ruthless about his eyes. "James," she says, and catches him in a surprisingly strong hug.

The man's British accent is suave and sophisticated as he looks down at the girl. "You're evidently Patricia Burke, the woman who phoned me." He gently detaches her from around his waist, eyes momentarily glancing down at her figure. "I could appreciate from your voice the urgency of the situation, so I was inclined to interrupt my sightseeing. Would you like to explain more, in particular how you were able to find me?"

She introduces herself. She says, "My father is Professor Winston Burke, he teaches biology and chemistry at New York State. I've been taking care of the household ever since mother died five years ago."

He nods, "Of course, yes, I remember old Winnie ... Winston. We went to school together at Eton. He was quite the wild one, if I recall. I could tell you stories ... but I shan't." He smiles down at her.

She says, "He's a real churchgoer, a very moral man."

He chuckles ruefully, "Time makes changes in us all." For a moment he seems distracted by an internal reverie, and she catches a momentary sad, nostalgic look as he glances down from the observatory tower. He turns to look at her again, "But surely you haven't called me simply to reminisce. You were quite adamant on the phone. What has Winnie been up to these days?"

She says, "I got a letter from him close to a year ago. He told me he had been developing a solution which could force men to be moral. He didn't explain how a man could be made to act like a saint. I hate to say it, but I started to doubt his sanity."

"Saint?" He laughs aloud, "Well, that could be interpreted different ways, for example, if one meant ... " he interrupts himself. "Another set of stories for another time. I take it he didn't go so far as to share the formula with you."

She shakes her head, "After several weeks I got another letter saying he had gone to see some big entrepreneur, a man he called Mr. Padgett. The next time I heard from Father, he was in paradise, saying Padgett would fund his research. Then, no word, and a month later it sounded like Father had had some sort of nervous collapse, and was in a sanitarium called Shady Acres, up in the Catskills."

His visage cracks slightly, displaying clear concern for a moment, though he quickly recovers. "I see." He removes a gold case from an interior coat pocket ... she catches a brief glimpse of an odd question-mark insignia on it ... and taps out a cigarette, which he lights from a similarly-insigned lighter. "What happened next?"

"Well, I took a train to the sanitarium. Doctor Farmer met me there, and said Father wouldn't even recognise me, and was in no condition to have visitors. But he also said he'd call me when it was okay for me to visit, and he expected Father would completely recover."

"It all sounds rather in order ... although I'm rather wary of your not being allowed to see your father. That sort of thing does happen though. How did the surroundings seem to you? Was it a reputable place?"

"The whole operation looked very high-class. Much better then anything I'd be able to afford ... I'd have had to send Father to a country hospital. We were fortunate that the treatment was being paid out of pocket by Mr. Padgett. But ... well ... there was one thing that bothered me ... these two men that acted like they were male nurses, or the doctor's assistants, or maybe just staff, but they were just lounging around Doctor Farmer's office, acting like they were drunk and behaving very rudely."

"A fly in the ointment," he says with interest.

"Something didn't seem right to me, so I called in some favors with a cousin of mine who works for the Daily Planet, and had her do some research."

He regards her with new interest. "Very enterprising ... exactly what I would have done."

She brightens at the compliment, but sobers as she delivers the outcome, "Farmer apparently has a good reputation, but ... although they'd never proved enough to send them to jail, the doctor's two assistants were members of a Brooklyn mob known to the FBI: Roberto 'Eggs' Overizi and Antonio 'Chips' Buffalo."

He takes another drag on his cigarette, and ponders the situation. "This is out of my jurisdiction I'm afraid ... but don't worry. I do still have contacts on this side of the ocean, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to Winnie. Leave it to me."

Then he got on the phone, and he called London. And London called Washington. And Washington ... called the Justice League.

And the Justice League ... was out of town.

THE SUBSTITUTE LEAGUE OF AMERICA
Case one: Myths for the Modern Age
(with apologies to Philip Jose Farmer)

Liberty Belle smoothes down her skirt as she regards the others who have gathered in the underground office of the Unusual Operatives Division. "It's nice to see someone else around who doesn't leave me feeling garish," she winks.

Fighting American sips his coffee, chuckling politely. "I think even in this crowd I stand out like a sore thumb ... though I wear the outfit to stand out in the crowd, and represent American ideals against the Communist menace."

Liberty Belle mm hmms.

Goody Rickels snorts, "Neither of you are folks I'd like to come across in a dark alley ... though with those outfits you'd hardly need a flashlight."

Speedboy scowls, "Listen you ... "

BEM interrupts him with a hand on his shoulder. "Please, let's keep our emotions in check. We're here to work for the common good, after all."

Yankee Doodle nods, "Thank you, lad. Yes, that's exactly why I took the initiative to summon you all here."

Captain Action ponders. "I'd hardly consider myself and Action Boy here to be substitutes for someone like Superman, though we're certainly more than flattered by the comparison, and we'll do our best."

Action Boy grins, "You bet ... if nothing else, Speedboy and BEM and I can break off into a junior auxiliary."

The Tarantula smirks, "I am ready for ze criminal hordes! Let zem dare to show zemselves to ze fearless Tarantula!"

Flex Mentallo flexes in the corner, "I agree with my extravagant French friend here."

Blue Beetle strokes his chin thoughtfully. "As do all of us, I'm sure ... though I admit to not being familiar with all of you prior to the introductions. I admit though, to reservations concerning the nature of our mission."

Yankee Doodle raises an eyebrow, not that one could tell through his feature-concealing mask. "Reservations? Such as?"

Blue Beetle continues. "I'm no political extremist, I prefer to spend most of my time in the field at archeological digs. But this formula ... to 'force men to be moral' ... that sounds an awful lot like mind control, to me."

Captain Action says, "We ought to discuss archeology some time, friend. I share your concerns though. Do we have a ... a 'mission statement' ... which actually states the government is requesting this formula for its own use?"

Yankee Doodle shakes his head. "My directives from the UOD is very broad. I understand that Liberty Belle's arrangement with NASA, and Fighting American's with Project Fighting American, are equally nonspecific. We all have leeway to interpret our assignments to the best of our abilities."

"I can cloud men's minds with my biceps," flexes Flex Mentallo, "though I would never attempt to just take over someone's mind entirely. It seems like that's what this would do, to me."

Goody Rickels shrugs, "I'd have to look at the formula to be sure, and we don't have that. It's up to you steroid junkies to work out that end."

BEM glances at him, "Do you have to insult somebody with everything you say?"

Goody Rickels shrugs again, "It's a living."

Fighting American looks grim. "I want to remind you all that the Commies wouldn't think twice about using mind control."

Captain Action sighs, "That's exactly my point!"

The Tarantula raises his hands, "Friends, friends, can not perhaps ze compromise be reached?"

Liberty Belle says, "We're clearly going there to rescue Professor Burke, and delaying that action doesn't make any sense. I propose we try to find what research we can on the formula while we're there and retrieve it. If what most of you are suggesting is right, I have absolutely no problem in destroying the records, but we can make a final decision after the fact."

Blue Beetle smiles, "I second the motion."

A chorus of 'ayes' fill the room, and Fighting American just shakes his head. "I object, but I'm willing to work as a team and go with majority rule."

The Tarantula claps his hands, "We weel embark on ze new mission with determination and purpose – between Captain Action's Seelver Streak and ze Tarantula-Mobile we weel arrive zere in no time!"

Shady Acres Sanitarium is set on top of a high hill. Lights blaze from and around it. At the entrance are a pair of iron gates set in a high stone wall. A ditch runs across the roads paralleling the wall. A stone bridge crosses the ditch.

From afar, Captain Action scans the structure with the heightened senses of Heimdall. "It looks like a secure facility, that's for sure."

Flex Mentallo flexes, "So we're going in with force? So be it."

Captain Action scowls, "We're not the only ones. A limousine just pulled up, and it looks like a groups of costumes getting out."

Blue Beetle enquires, "Costumes? Rickels, let me see your binoculars." He scans the horizon, and speaks in wonder, "I know them ... it's the Echoes of Justice. The White Sorcerer ... he called himself Mister Magik back in the 40's ... invited me to join after the original Blue Beetle fell victim to a mad scientist's bomb. I had been the Beetle's sidekick, Sparky, for a while ... but I turned them down because by that point I'd already abandoned the costumed life. It was only after I was selected to bear the magic scarab, by the sun god Khepra, that I took on the name."

BEM smiles, "We're all on the same side, right? Let's go up and shake their hands."

And so the league of heroes of a silver age confront the echoes of a golden age of justice ...

White Sorcerer is a theatrical-looking, grey-haired gentleman wearing a stylish white tuxedo with a white tie, and carrying a walking stick in one of his hands, which compliments his elegant white dress coat with tails. Around his shoulders is a short white cape.

Air Wave is wearing a green cowl with two headphone like devices on his ears, and a green bodysuit with a yellow lightning bolt on his chest. Adding to the outfit are a pair of yellow boots, trunks and a cape. Around his waist is Air Wave's radiobelt, which gives him his powers.

Commander Steel is a 6 foot tall man wearing a full body costume. It is mostly red with blue shorts, boots, gloves and a white belt. There is a blue fin on top of his red cowl. On his chest and back are red and blue stripes, with a white stylized star in a red circle on his chest.

Congorilla is a powerful golden gorilla wearing a military dress uniform consisting of blue trousers, shirt, and tie and a red jacket with gold trim, buttons, and epaulets.

Dyna-Man is a big, very muscular man wearing some form of chest plate with an oval plaque over his heart, a blue costume with light green trunks, a short green cape, and what looks like a football helmet with a fin across the top and two thin horizontal bars acting as a face shield. Around his waist is a red belt with a black 'D' on the buckle.

The Guardian is a tall, well-muscled man, about 6 foot 1, weighing approx. 200 pounds. His face is masked by a blue cowl through which one can see piercing blue eyes and a square jaw, and a golden helmet is atop his head. He wears a blue bodysuit with gold trunks, gloves, boots and a red belt. The Guardian's shield is large and gold, shaped like a policeman's badge.

Manhunter is tall and broad-shouldered, with a taut athletic frame. He is garbed in a tight crimson body-suit, with dark blue gauntlets, boots, and trunks. Over his head he wears a skintight red cowl with his features concealed behind a blue mask. He has ruggedly handsome features, with steel blue alert looking eyes, a somewhat hawkish nose, and a square jaw. His motions are quiet and lithe, and he moves about with the graceful tread of a panther on the prowl.

Plastic Man is a stylish man in his mid-forties. His dark hair is smoothly slicked back behind his ears, and his face is covered with thick goggles that obscure his eyes from sight. His costume is red, resembling spandex...his shorts seem shrink wrapped around him. His bright red shirt is open in a 'V' on his chest, which is laced up with black cord. His outfit is completed with a black belt around his waist, which is notched together in the front with a round, yellow buckle.

Robotman's metal body is more than six-foot-tall. A pair of red photo-electric eyes regard the newcomers with interest. Despite his parody of a human appearance (looking like a grey, bald human), he has a human brain and the most human of personalities. Super-strong and near-invulnerable, he has many other attributes normally stowed in various locations about his person.

Wildcat is a huge mountain of a man dressed as a mighty jungle cat. His black costume covers him from head to toe, but for his fingers and the lower portion of his face.

The White Sorcerer smirks as he sees the others approach. "Well well well, if it isn't Sparkington J. Northrup," he addresses the Blue Beetle, "I see you've found some others to ally yourself with. Are you coming here to help us in our mission to eradicate evil?"

Blue Beetle hrms, "I don't use that name anymore. We're here to rescue Professor Burke and prevent anyone from brainwashing the planet ... if that's what you mean by 'eradicating evil.'"

Goody Rickels puts his face in his hands, "Oy gevalt a schmear."

Wildcat scowls, "I don't think I like your tone ... what are you suggesting? That you've come here to destroy Burke's formula?"

Liberty Belle attempts to maneuver between the two parties, "Look, we're all on the same side, aren't we? We can discuss this in a civilised manner ... "

Commander Steel looks her up and down, "I know of you from my military briefings ... little girl, I knew Liberty Belle ... I fought alongside her in the All-Star Squadron ... you're not her."

Manhunter says, "I spent enough time in the killing field of the last world war to ever want to see anything like that happen again, no matter what the cost. If Burke's formula can prevent that from happening ... free will be damned."

Blue Beetle shakes his head, "I was there in those same killing fields, and I can tell you I'd still rather destroy the formula than prevent man from being able to make his own moral choices."

Plastic Man shapes his body into a wall. "If you want to destroy that formula, you're going to have to go through us... and that ain't happening, pals and gal."

Yankee Doodle steps to the fore, "Are you serious? You would fight us rather than cooperate and risk losing the formula?"

Manhunter says, "I'm serious as armed robbery, mister."

Commander Steel says, "Will you surrender quietly - or must we get rough? Believe me, gang, I'd just love to get rough!"

Wildcat suddenly finds himself entangled in strings of fast-hardening nylon fired from a web-gun. "I am ze fearless Tarantula," asserts his antagonist, "Doer of good! Fighter against no-good! Crusher of evil! Masher of menaces! A nice chap! Ooooh! All you bad guys are going to get such a scare! Nothing weel stand in my way!"

Yankee Doodle curses, "Tarantula, wait! I hadn't given the ... " his words are interrupted by Manhunter, leaping on him like a great jungle cat.

White Sorcerer gestures magically, and recoils as he is blinded by a burst of lightning. "You're not the only one with magical abilities; my coins grant me the power of Zeus," shouts Captain Action over the storm.

Action Boy uses the speed of Mercury to do an end-run around Air Wave. The older hero chuckles, "You're fast, but not faster than magnetic energy." His gloves generate a wave of magnetic repulsion in an attempt to repell the coin of the gods which grants his opponent his speed. Blue Beetle rises into the air, eyes crackling with electricity, and finds himself caught off-guard by a powerful barrage of explosive bullets from an invisible source. Plastic Man looks up, "Great guns! Say hello to Captain X formerly of the RAF ... our airborne auxiliary." He forms himself into a beach ball and bounces high, slamming into Blue Beetle from the opposite direction.

Guardian tugs BEM by the ear. "In my day, kids respected their elders," he says, surprised as the young man with the strength of three disrupts his hold and attempts to wrestle him down.

Robotman extends a metal hand towards Liberty Belle. "Not the Libby I know either," his voice the sound of an old radiator grate. She leaps our of the way, barely avoiding a nearly-fatal blow.

Fighting American & Speedboy face off against Commander Steel in a spectacularly patriotic display, each accusing the other of being a brazen imitator.

Goody Rickels groans. "This is all going pear-shaped ... yaaaaah!" He screams and runs as the golden gorilla bounds after him, teeth bared.

Dyna-Man slams his rings together, his body glowing with explosive energy. He throws a punch at Flex Mentallo, the latter's 'hero halo' disrupting the explosion as it expends around them. "Face the power of Muscle Mystery," flexes the hero of the beach.

Tarantula approaches the bound hero. "So, time to surrender, monkey?" he says with Gallic arrogance. Wildcat manages to work one arm free and knock down the skinny do-gooder. "The trouble with superpowers is they make you forget how much fun an old-fashioned uppercut can be - when you do it just right."

Yankee Doodle wrestles desperately against the hunter of men, realising quickly his fighting skills are excelled by the other. White Sorcerer nods, "So be it," he says, and begins drawing strength from the earth around him, transforming himself into a terrifying apparition. Captain Action attacks the other with the strength of Hercules, knocking him backwards with surprise.

Air Wave's tactic sends Action Boy into a skid, as his body is pulled backwards by the coin he carries. Speedboy glances back at his opponent. "It only seems to work at short range," he ponders as he rises to his feet and aims for an end run, attempting to disrupt Air Wave's equipment before the older hero can repel him again.

Blue Beetle grunts, "This is absurd," as he is buffeted by repeated attacks. "Hey pal, absurdity is my middle name," notes Plastic Man as he bounces into his opponent again. Blue Beetle catches him this time, and when Captain X fires at him next, tosses Plas in the direction the bullets are coming from. The guns are silenced and the elastic body splats over the invisible Jenny on impact, rendering her outline visible. Blue Beetle soars at the plane before Plas can detach himself, striking at the fuselage.

BEM skillfully dodges a feint of the Guardian's. "I'm smarter than you think," he says with a wink, but the Guardian slams his shield into the young man's jaw with a sideswing. "But not as experienced," notes the policeman.

Liberty Belle and Robotman play a frightening game of tag, the heroine barely managing to stay ahead of her unhuman opponent's metal extremities, before he finally catches her, the force of his grip drawing blood. As she is dragged towards him she scans his skull casing desperately, looking for some way to disconnect him.

Commander Steel attempts to use his superior strength and speed to get hold of Fighting American and Speedboy, who use their superior numbers to confuse him.

Congorilla gives a mighty leap, landing on Goody Rickels. The man looks up at the gorilla's maw, "Just kill me quick before your breath does," he gasps.

Flex Mentallo baffles Dyna-Man with the range of his psychic attacks, as the former strikes at him again and again, the blows reducing in intensity with time even as his opponent finds the endless percussive explosions wearing him down.

"STOP!" says a powerful, amplified voice through a megaphone. The combatants pause, as a man almost six-foot-three, slim, elegantly dressed and white-haired, strides out into the field which has been completely torn apart by the battle. He is quite handsome, though a scar disfigures his left cheek. He is accompanied by a slim woman about five-foot-four wearing a long coat and a scarf that conceals her face. Standing behind them is a tall, scholarly-looking, middle-aged man. He looks like a college teacher, since he wears tweeds and his hair is as wild as an absent-minded professor's.. "I'm Lewis Padgett, I'm an associate of this Sanitarium, and I wish to know exactly what you costumed clowns think you're doing? We have sick people here."

Yankee Doodle manages to detach himself from Manhunter. From his jacket he draws out a leather casing and flashes an id badge. "My name is John Dandy, I work for the federal government. Some of these gentlemen here are my associates. Before we were attacked, we had come here to investigate a claim made on behalf of one of your patients, Winston Burke, at the request of his daughter."

The scholarly-looking man steps forward. "There must be some mistake," he says. "I am Winston Burke." His voice is puzzled, but clear and coherent. "I don't have a daughter. I don't have any children at all."

Flex Mentallo narrows his eyes. He walks up behind Yankee Doodle. "Something's wrong here," he mumbles. "Padgett is hiding something ... the man has a powerful aura. He's not a normal human."

Air Wave, eavesdropping, fiddles with a control on his radiobelt, angling his antenna at the newcomers. "Microwaves," he says. "The man is acting like a power battery." He curses. "Lewis Padgett. I thought you'd been abducted by aliens after you disappeared."

Action Boy blinks. "Who?"

Air Wave says, "Lewis Padgett ... the Microwave Man. He became fascinated by microwaves when he was a kid-and built his own radio! When he grew up, it became an obsession-he immersed himself in experimental research far ahead of his time! The breakthrough came when he devised a means of making his body a walking receiver-capable of absorbing raw microwave energy from every operating radio transmitter in the area at the time!"

Padgett's body starts to ripple with energy, "Abducted by aliens? Hardly ... though with the increased use of microwaves in the modern world ... and the addition of advanced Soviet technology from their secret labs ... yes that's where I've been all this time ... you'll find me a far more formidable foe than I was back in the 40's." As he speaks the woman accompanying him unwraps her cloak, mouth opening to reveal fangs as a pair of batlike wings unveil from behind her.

Fighting American barks out, "I've detected a commie smell in this setup all along!"

Blue Beetle glances around him, "You don't really think you can take us all on, do you?"

White Sorceror gestures magically, and you find your attention caught by one of his cufflinks, which has a mottled black and dark green design on it. Time seems to slow, as it often does when you are in a climactic situation, and you feel increasingly fascinated by the cufflink. As you focus on it, it fills your vision more and more, until it is practically all you can see. You realise that it is not an abstract design at all, but rather a depiction of a forest at night. Soon the forest fills your entire range of vision, and when you look around next you find that you are in the woods close to a mile from the Sanitarium.

Goody Rickels falls to his knees, "I think I'm about to toss my cookies."

Speedboy looks around at his allies, "What the heck was that?"

Yankoo Doodle peers back at the Sanitarium to observe a series of powerful explosions. "It looks like the Echoes of Justice were taking this case personally and didn't want out interference."

Fighting American scowls, "I'm not used to being dismissed ... or failing in my mission."

From behind them, a voice speaks out, "You haven't." They turn, to see a trio of men standing by a black autogyro.

The first, the evident speaker, is a man of almost seven feet tall. He must be in his late seventies, a hard seventy, broad-shouldered and looking as if he might have had an outstanding physique in his youth; he also could have been very handsome once. Muscles like piano wires bunch like coiling pythons under his bronze skin, but dissipation has lined his face, bagged his eyes, and fattened throat and waist. His hair is silver, straight, and layed down tightly as a metal skullcap. His eyes glitter like pools of flake gold. He is wearing a white shirt and riding breeches, black boots, and a dark brown greatcoat.

To his right, is a very tall man, somewhat stooped, which is to be expected given that he has to be in his late eighties. His makeup almost conceals his wrinkles, and his huge curved nose has no broken veins, except in certain lights. His eyes behind their thick trifocal contact lenses burn as if he were only twenty years old. He is wearing a black suit, a red-lined black cloak, and a dark slouch hat. On his right hand is a ring bearing a large opal which seems to glow with an inner light.

To his left is a middle-sized though muscular man, no more than five-foot-eight, with thick spectacles. He has polar-bear white hair and an elderly face that would have been still handsome if it weren't for its total lack of expression. Behind them are two grey eyes, the gray of Arctic ice-fields, that look as cold as wintertime windowglass after a heavy frost. But under the pale, washed-out flatness is a blaze as if a natural-gas leak has caught fire under the polar icecap. He is clad in a well-fitted gray suit and a gray cloth coat with a gray collar.

"You may call me Dr. du Bronce," says the man. "These are my associates, Mr. Phwombly and Ricardo Bensoni. It was we ... acting through members of my family ... who connived to place you here to retrieve or destroy Burke's formula. The interference by the Echoes of Justice was unexpected, but ... " he turns as another explosion quakes the earth, "by delaying them and bringing Padgett's true identity to their attention, you managed to achieve your goal, and ours'."

Flex Mentallo flexes, "Are you saying you were behind all this? What did you have against Professor Burke's formula, anyway?"

Ricardo Bensoni speaks, his voice monotone. "Some of us ... have spent time and attention in the past attempting to use similar strategies to destroy evil. The strategies did not work, and ... they came to be troubled by the morality of their actions. We could not allow any government to follow in those footsteps."

Yankee Doodle furrows his brow, not that one could tell. "This certainly seems like an overcomplicated way of going about it."

Mr. Phwombly bursts into an alarming cackle. "Reality has begun to fray at the edges," he says, "in ways that few are prepared to face. The Justice League isn't enough to guard the world as we know it ... someone needs to stand guard in the dark corners of the world."

Liberty Belle nurses the wound on her shoulder as she stumbles to her feet. "So you see us as some sort of substitute league, when the big guys aren't available?"

Dr. du Bronce says, "We have all used compatriots which have stood by our sides to fight the good fight. Now, all we have is each other." The trio start to board the autogyro, a beautiful, bronze-haired woman at the controls. "Rather than following us," he looks directly at Blue Beetle and Action Boy, "consider accepting a gift for a job well done." He tosses a card to Yankee Doodle, who plucks it out of the air.

"An address?" says the masked crimefighter.

"A place where you can stand together, rather than stand separately. A Hall of Justice, if you will." The vehicle starts to ascend vertically, "You will need it."