Aboard the great zeppelin, the elderly man peered at the grounds beneath him. Despite his advanced age, his back was ramrod straight, his eyes were clear, and his mind as alert as it had been in his youth. His dress uniform, starched to crispness, still fit him well.
Though he had traveled the world, he had seen nothing lovelier than the rolling German countryside of his homeland. It had been nearly a century of peace in Europe since the so-called War to End All Wars, and he said a silent thanks for his inheritance, his father having subdued the Russians and dominated the British and the French.
From behind him, he heard a distinctly feminine cough, and then a familiar voice. "Kaiser Friedrich?" He turned to see a tall, statuesque woman, her hair cut severely in the modern style which he had never favored. Wanda von Brannburg approached him, clad in a dark blue business suit. "Baroness," he said, acknowledging her formal bow.
She smiled in acknowledgement. "Sir, as there been any word from the Americans? Will they be at the meeting?"
"No. It doesn't look as if President Paul has changed his mind."
"They've been isolationist ever since the Hughes election in 1916 ... as one of the world's largest economies it befits them to take their share of the world's responsibilities." Her voice showed her frustration. "We're facing worldwide global cooling, and we can't solve this problem alone."
"It is the price to pay for our being the world's lone international superpower." He mimed the action of attempting to break a bundle of twigs, "The European Union binds us and our neighbors together, but it is always Germany who leads."
She frowned, "The British ... "
He silenced her with a wave of a hand. "I know you consider yourself their informal representative, since your family moved there after the War, but their empire has had more than its share of political and economic reversals. It is German, and not English, which is the official diplomatic language of the Union."
She pursed her lips, but any further argument she may have made was interrupted by her next question. "Sir, were you expecting an aerial accompaniment?"
He reached to his side to pull his spyglass from his belt. What had originally appeared to be a fleet of ultralight aircraft falling from the clouds above the low-flying zeppelin, was revealed to be a fleet of men. Their skin was pale blue, glass bubbles surrounded their heads, and they were clad only in boots and loincloths made from some sleek material. From their backs, held in place by bands which crossed across their chests, were wings which resembled nothing other than that of flying fish. Leading them from aboard a flying platform was a well-muscled man of at least 6'6", blond-haired and bronze-skinned. He wore jodhpurs, calf-high boots, and a vest with pleated, buttoned-down pockets.
"God in heaven," he said. "I know that face from my youth ... it's Sun Koh."
"Sun Koh?"
"Back in the 30's he was a ... what do they call those with more than human abilities nowadays ... super hero? Like our own Schutz Heiliggrupper? But he disappeared."
"Well, he's reappeared for now, unless this is his grandson. What's the banner they're carrying?"
He scowled at her, "You haven't read your history. The swastika is an old symbol for German nationalism."
The Baroness cursed to herself, feeling she had been made to look a fool, and nervously fingered the amulet she wore around her neck. "Are swords, also, old symbols for German nationalism?"
The blue men swarmed around the airship, their weapons shearing through the cotton fabric skin and duralumin frame like butter. The Kaiser watched as his security guards exited from the body of the vehicle in order to engage the intruders, only to be cut down. He strode towards the door of the passenger compartment, pulling out his own ceremonial sword. The Baroness took him by the arm, "Sir, you can't confront them directly, this is madness."
He shook her off, "This is a clear assassination attempt on the Imperial airship. I don't know why Sun Koh has returned to behave thus, but I shall ask him to his face."
Suddenly, as the zeppelin began to lose altitude, the attackers broke off, rising back into the sky. The Kaiser paused to watch them, when from their leader's platform an oddly constructed gun began to emit sonic waves, lethally directed at the zeppelin. "In the name of the Third Reich," shouted the man of bronze as the imperial airship began to shake, finally bursting into a furious flame. The Kaiser howled in anger and fear as fell through the inferno ...
... only to find himself soaring in mid-air. He was held tight within a pair of diamond-hard arms clad in a familiar costume of red and gold, trimmed with blue. "Wanda," he said through the whistling air as they fled the explosion. "My God ... you are Kommandant Englander? You have been all this time?"
"My apologies for the deception, Sir," she said. "We must needs make haste."
"Where are you taking me?"
"I have a sanctuary," she said, glancing behind her to see whether their survival had been noticed. "I suspect these forces are too great for me to defeat on my own. We need the Gentlemen of the Air."
Kommandant Englander in, "The Man Who Fell from the Sky"
The man with the red gloves moved quietly across the London rooftop. From a small container in his utility belt, he removed an electronic device which contained the blueprints and security plans for the building across the way. Stupid heiress, he thought; collecting antiquities should be left for the people who could take care of them properly. And the gem-covered so-called 'infinity glove' was older than recorded history.
He picked out which window to use for access, and uncoiled the rappel line from the lining of his belt. As he prepared to project the miniature grapplehook towards its target, he heard a lilting, melodic birdsong, and it filled him with fear. He turned to see the source of the sound: a slim man of average height, wearing a tuxedo and bearing a pencil-thin mustache, his midnight-blue skin almost invisible in the night; only his glittering gold eyes and the metallic handle of his walking stick revealed his presence. "Bloody Hand," said the man, and silently unsheathed his sword-cane.
"Blackbird," the man with the red gloves muttered, "I thought you were dead."
"You supervillains and your absurd deathtraps," said the other, "I don't know why you bother." He pointed the tip of the sword-cane at his opponent's heart. "Shall we end this quickly, then?"
"Yes, let's." Bloody Hand drew his revolver forth from his utility belt, only to have it knocked from his grip as Blackbird's sword hurtled forward, jamming its barrel like an arrow to a bull's eye. He reached for his twinned knives, but his opponent was atop him before he had the opportunity to wield them. The battle was brutal, but brief.
Blackbird whistled to himself, again mimicking a birdsong, as he bound his unconscious foe with his own rappel line. "A brief call to the police for pickup," he murmured expositionally, "and then it's time to keep my dinner date." He returned his sword cane to its hilt, and from his jacket pocket withdrew a box which contained a miniature disguise kit. Gold contact lenses were returned to their case, and specially formulated cold cream removed the midnight-blue makeup from his face, neck and wrists.
He saw a fleeting movement out of the corner of his eye, and quickly turned, alarmed. "Curtis Cadbury," said a voice. He relaxed when he saw the female figure which descended from the sky. "The lovely Kommandant," he said with a broad smile, "is this a social call? You have finally decided to yield to my boundless charm?"
She almost smiled. "Save the spoiled, rich playboy act for another time. Contact our teammates. I will see you all at Elektropolis. And bring Amanda Sefton."
His eyes widened. "We had plans for dinner tonight. Things are that serious?"
"Yes," she said abruptly as she returned airborne.
In Elektropolis, the super-scientific headquarter of the Gentlemen of the Air which was disguised as an ordinary lighthouse, England's greatest protectors gathered alongside the Kaiser of Germany. They watched a news broadcast, appalled, as their foreign counterparts Blitzkrieg, Hauptman Deutschland, and Zeitgeist, were all felled by an army lead by the man of bronze.
Miss Nobody shook her head, "I can't believe Schutz Heiliggrupper were just taken out like that." The teenage girl's accent betrayed her American upbringing.
Amanda Sefton curled up in her chair, and whispered softly, "the inheritance of Atlantis."
Friedrich scowled. "Germany shall not fall so easily."
Mister Nobody peered at Sefton. "Atlantis? Like in the old legends? Are you serious?"
She nodded, "It was something I learned at my mother's knee. The sunken island whose people had adapted to live underwater. For centuries they have awaited the reincarnation of their greatest king, Kull the Conqueror."
Kommandant Englander pondered. "Sun Koh has claimed the title for himself, then? He seeks to ... what? Re-establish an Atlantean empire over Europe?"
"He spoke of the Third Reich," said Friedrich. "Although it's not a term we encourage, some have referred to the reign of the Kaisers as the Second Reich ... the first being the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation. If he intends to establish himself as the first in a new line of emperors over the nation, it would make sense he would refer to it thus."
"We need a line of attack," Kommandant Englander said.
Amanda Sefton chewed her lip. "What did you want me for? I'm not a superhero."
Blackbird took her hand tenderly in his own, his gold eyes glittering. "No, but you have talents of your own. We need you to stay here and guard the Kaiser. You will be our last line of defense."
Friedrich snorted, "You expect me to hide here between this girl's skirts?"
"Yes Sir," said Kommandant Englander. "If Sun Koh is attempting to establish a new line of succession to the German throne, your safety is more important than your dignity. And this 'girl' you describe is the daughter of the Sorceress Supreme. She is not to be taken lightly." She turned to Mister Nobody. "Morgan, can you take the form of one of the Atlanteans?"
"I ... assume so," he said uneasily. "So what is our line of attack then? Do we have any other friends we can call in on this?"
"Not friends," said the Kommandant. "Enemies."
Later, the tall woman with the military bearing strode through the halls of The Gaol, the British supervillain containment facility. Accompanied by a pair of guards, she stopped at a cage door and turned to face the man held within. "Matthew Peters," she said.
The brutal-looking man looked up. "Kommandant Englander. What the hell do you want?"
"What I want is to see you and the rest of your gangsters locked up for the rest of your life," she said. "But the realm needs the Sea Spider."
"You must really be in deep if you're asking for my help. This is about those blue men on the continent, ain't it?" He looked around. "What the hell, it's better than these four walls. You got my old ship? and I'm going to get something out of this, right?"
"Of course," she said. She nodded to the guards, who unlocked the cage door. The trio escorted Peters to the outside gate, and as soon as they were under open sky she grabbed him by the arm and took to the air.
He grinned. "Where the hell are we going, anyway?"
"Atlantis," she said, enjoying the shocked and baffled look which appeared on his face.
As they approached the lighthouse, Peters said, "So that is the famous Elektropolis? I suppose you have my old ship locked up in some souvenir case? I can't wait to have a look around."
She stopped and hovered. "The blue men have already expanded their attacks towards Austria and the Czech Republic. Do you think it won't be a matter of time before they strike north of the channel to England? We freed you because you're needed, but don't press your luck." Without another word she dove into the water, ignoring Peters' shouts as they slammed into the water.
She pulled him through an underground tunnel into Elektropolis' drydock. He coughed and sputtered as they broke the surface. "Damnit, if you ... ah." Before them was the Sea Spider: a streamlined submarine whose eight-nacelled design caused it to resemble nothing other than a giant arthropod. Assembled before it were Blackbird, Mister Nobody, and Miss Nobody. Peters walked over and placed his hands flat on its streamlined hull. "At least you've taken care of her," he said.
"Waste not, want not," said Blackbird, twirling his walking stick.
"Let's just get on with it." Miss Nobody passed intangibly through the wall of the submarine. There was a nearly inaudible hydraulic hiss as she opened the hatch from the inside.
Matthew Peters took the helm as the Gentlemen of the Air staffed crew positions. The engines hummed to life, and the vehicle submerged beneath Elektropolis. "I hope the coordinates your little blonde slut gave me were accurate," he said to Blackbird, "or this will be nothing but a pleasure cruise."
Blackbird narrowed his eyes. "I would trust her perceptions with my life," he said, "and you are here on our sufferance. I'd advise you to keep a civil tongue in your head ... you don't need it to pilot and I'm perfectly willing to slice it out."
Peters snorted his amusement as the Sea Spider descended into the depths of the Atlantic.
Mister Nobody stared out of the window. "I'm not used to traveling at these depths ... it's making me claustrophobic. I think I prefer the skies."
Kommandant Englander glanced at him. "Will you be all right? You know we can't do this without you."
He nodded, and sighed. "I hope I'll be all right," Miss Nobody spoke up. "Wanda, I'm scared. This is a lot bigger than anything we've ever faced before."
Kommandant Englander reached out to take her hand. "Remember when the Twilight Villains tried to force the world into a second great war? They even managed to trick us into battle against Les Heroes de Paris before we uncovered their ruse? We were victorious then, and this Sun Koh won't be any cleverer than they were."
"I hope not," she said quietly. "I remember when I wound up facing most of Les Heroes' most powerful members alone, before the explosion which trapped Blackbird and myself in that underground tunnel ... not an experience I want to repeat."
"Something is affecting my readings," Peters interjected. "We're close to the location the blonde gave me for Atlantis, and sonar is picking up something large on the ocean floor but there's nothing on visual."
Kommandant Englander scowled. "Could it be masked, somehow? Still, why wouldn't our Navy have picked it up themselves?"
"My equipment is more technologically advanced than theirs," Peters scoffed. "At any rate ... " He was interrupted by a powerful sonic blast, which rocked the submarine in its wake. He stumbled to his feet, wincing at the pain which coursed through his head, and at the sensation of wetness at the side of his head, touched a fingertip to his ear. He pulled it away to see it spotted with blood. "At any rate, we seem to be on to something. We're being hailed."
"This is Commander Khor-Nah of Atlantis," said a voice in German over the intercom. "Surrender your vessel."
Kommandant Englander stood over Blackbird and Miss Nobody, assisting them back to their feet. She nodded silently to Mister Nobody, and without a word, the man's features seemed to shift, his skin color altering to match the surrounding seas. "Cease your attack immediately. This is Mor-Gan of house C'thunda," he said into the communicator, even his mannerisms and accent altering instinctively. "I have brought this seized ship and hostages for interrogation by the High Command."
There was a pause, and the voice responded. "We shall escort you back to Command Central. Hail the Son of the Sun"
"Hail the Son of the Sun," Mister Nobody responded, and reached forward to silence the intercom.
Peters grunted, and then glared back at Kommandant Englander. "You're going to allow me a gun, right?"
Blackbird returned the look blandly. "What have you done to merit one?"
"I don't want to die on this mission of yours ... and I don't think I much want to be reigned over by a bunch of blueskins."
Kommandant Englander nodded. "So be it. If you have concealable arms on board, you are welcome to them."
He grinned toothily at her, "You've already forgotten my venom gun?" His hand pressed into a compartment on the side of his chair, which opened to reveal a small handweapon, sculpted metal to resemble a spider. He tucked it into the waist of his prison fatigues.
Blackbird turned his back to Peters and reopened his disguise kit. With economical motions he removed his midnight-blue makeup, and with a few quick touches of dye and padding, he added decades to his apparent age. His hunched his shoulders slightly, bowed his neck, and leaned heavily on his cane, to all appearances a frail and elderly man.
"Great Gar," whispered Peters, as the Sea Spider passed through an invisible barrier, and shimmering into sight before their eyes lay the city of Atlantis, encased within a vast translucent dome. Armies of blue-skinned men swam to and fro, and surrounding the dome were the spoils of war: sunken and plundered military ships, submarines, and planes from the current battle. Kommandant Englander hissed as she saw several with British markings.
Mister Nobody bound his teammates together with a long length of rope, carefully to allow Blackbird to limp along with the rest of the team. Peters hovered over his shoulder as Morgan piloted the ship into drydock, following their military escort. As the vehicle settled into place, he opened the hatch, to see a dozen of blue-skinned barbarians, swords raised in salute. He raised his own sword, "Hail the Son of the Sun," he said.
An older man, whom he gathered was Khor-Nah, came to the fore. "Hail the Son of the Sun. These are the prisoners? A garish lot. Let us hear what they have to say for themselves. I will take you to the High Command."
He nodded, beckoning down the hallway, and Morgan tugged the rope to bring his hostages into line. Blackbird stumbled slightly, his cane giving out beneath him, and Miss Nobody glared angrily. "Please, he's just an old man." She placed one of his arms around her shoulders and walked aside him down the hallway.
Khor-Nah snorted. "These are the pinkskins' champions? No wonder they retreat like the morning tides beneath our swords." Finally, the Gentlemen of the Air and their armed accompaniment passed under an ornately carved archway, into a large room filled with maps an diagrams. Alone in it was a grey-haired woman, tall and unstooped by age, clad in a billowing gown. Khor-Nah approached her, and spoke quietly, and she approached the hostages.
"I am Sareena," she said. "War Matriarch of house C'thunda. I am aware of no Mor-Gan in my house."
"Godamnit," Peters blurted, and angled his hands to slip out his venom gun, firing it at Sareena's throat. She emitted a strangled sound and collapsed to the floor, as the guards surrounding them drew their swords.
Miss Nobody cursed in frustration, and at her touch the ropes turned intangible, releasing her and the others. Blackbird unsheathed his sword and Mister Nobody allowed his body's perceptions to encompass the many denizens of the deep, increasing in size and distorting in shape to that of an aquatic titan.
Kommandant Englander's great strength was added to her companions', and as she and the Gentleman of the Air battled the Atlantean guards, Miss Nobody slipped down through the floor.
Using her martial arts training, she slowed her breathing to silence. She passed from hallway to hallway, feet not touching the floor, silent as a ghost. The walls of the building were rough set stone, and seemed unimaginably ancient, as were the brief glimpses they had had of the other architecture of Atlantis. Legends told of the advanced science of these people, but aside from the one-man flying suits and the ray guns, she thought they seemed to be simple barbarians.
Periodically she picked up voices or the sound or running feet, and faded back inside a wall; she imagined her teammates were keeping them quite busy. She noticed that aside from the swastika-bearing flags, there seemed to be a lack of ornamentation on the walls, though occasional sculptures seemed to represent hideous gods, along with evidently more recent sculptures which seemed to represent Sun Koh in a variety of heroic poses.
As she continued her tour, she found herself in a room not unlike that of the War Matriarch, though much larger. Against the far wall was a complex machine which seemed to be projecting images of battle from across Europe. She felt a chill as she saw blue men besieging central London. A man stood with his back to her, very tall and with close-cropped blond hair. Attached to wall to her left, was a weapons rack hung with a series of swords which she recognised as similar in design to those wielded by the blue men. She touched one of the swords and passed it intangibly out of the rack, silent as a leaf falling in a forest. Holding it with a practiced grip, she soundlessly approached the man.
As if possessed by some sort of 'danger sense,' he turned to see her approach. She heard a curious trilling which seemed to be emitted from the back of his throat, and he reached into one of the buttoned-down pockets of his vest and drew forth what appeared to be a small hand-weapon to point at her. She solidified her sword, slicing towards him with a killing stroke which he evaded with surprising speed. He fired his weapon, she felt her ears burst and a blur of pain, and then she felt nothing at all.
From another vest pocket, Sun Koh took a small measuring device. He walked over to the fallen body, used the gauge to determine the proportions of her facial features, and then returned to the image projector, reprogramming it to cast images of the interior of the Central Command building, until he was able to witness the battle elsewhere in the building. Scores of his palace guard lay dead or unconscious, but numbers seemed to be telling against the intruders. The man in the gray uniform was already down, and eventually the blue monster fell as well, physical form reverting to that of a young pink-skinned male. The old man dressed in a tuxedo, who moved with surprising speed and grace, was the next to fall ... and finally the tall woman stood alone.
Blades at her companion's throats, she finally raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. Commander Khor-Nah gestured, and she was encased in heavy chains. Sun Koh doubted they would hold her, given the ease with which he'd seen her dispense with his guardsmen. He pulled up a chair and, fingers templed under his chin, sat and waited.
As the prisoners were dragged before him, Kommandant Englander saw the supine body of Miss Nobody. "You beast!" she howled, arms tearing through the chains as if they were tissue paper. She flew at Sun Koh, who intercepted her with a lethal sound wave from his hand-weapon. She stumbled to the ground, but continued on her path, glaring murderously. He turned a dial at the side of the device, increasing the frequency, and blood began to trickle out from her ears, eyes, and mouth. Finally she collapsed to her hands and knees.
He walked over to her, kneeling down long enough to give her face a quick examination with his measuring gauge, and then stood to perform the same operation on the other captives. "These two," he said to Khor-Nah, gesturing to take in Kommandant Englander and Blackbird, "are true Aryans. This one," he indicated Matthew Peters, "has a diluted bloodline, but the true race still predominates. As for that changeling abomination, it has no place here." Without a word, Khor-Nah's sword sliced across Mister Nobody's throat, and Kommandant Englander gulped out a sob as she saw the body collapse within its chains. Sun Koh walked over to the body of Miss Nobody, "Why they allowed this Hebraic parasite among their number, I do not understand."
Blackbird growled, "She ... she served the realm to the best of her abilities. She was just a girl ... you had no reason to murder her like that."
Sun Koh raised an eyebrow. "She was not even truly human. Neither she, nor the changeling, belonged in your company."
Kommandant Englander bit out through clenched teeth, "And you mean to tell me these blue-skinned men are true humans?"
"Now, you begin to understand," Sun Koh nodded. "When great Atlantis sank, some of its inhabitants constructed the dome which now surrounds the city, and adapted themselves to life underwater. Some others emigrated west, and eventually gave birth to the Aryan nations. As they did so, they encountered subhumans who had evolved from apes ... the ones they failed to properly cull eventually insinuated themselves into civilisation, and those are the lesser, darker, races we see proliferating across the world today. But in this era, a new Ice Age is coming, the wheat is growing thin, and only the fittest and strongest will survive."
"I have no fear of you," said Kommandant Englander.
Sun Koh smiled calmly. "I know of you. In all these years of hiding I've maintained an ally, Rolf Karsten, who has investigated potential impediments we may encounter when we chose to reassert our dominance. Between his reports and the imageprojecting Kataskop," he gestured to the projector, "I have been well apprised of events on the surface world. He has told me about you, Kommandant. I know your allegiance is to your realm, nothing less." He turned to deftly manipulate dials on the Kataskop, zooming in on the British Isles. "London is drowning," he said.
Kommandant Englander groaned in despair as she saw the images before her, Blackbird gasped, even Matthew Peters turned away. Elektropolis lay a smoking ruin, and the buildings of British parliament had fallen under a tide of blue men. "Kaiser Friedrich and Prime Minister Scott have fallen. I am now the government of the Anglo-Saxon nations, and I alone. You may stay true to your nature, and stand by my side, or you may join them."
She turned her head to look at Blackbird in a silent appeal, but his face was set as stone. "I ... I will stand by your side."
Blackbird looked down, deflated. "I will stand by the Kommandant."
Peters shrugged. "Doesn't much matter to me who I'm working for," he said, though the haunted expression on his face belied his flippant words. "Might be nice to work for the leaders of the country, for a change."
"Rise, my New Gentlemen of the Air," said Sun Koh to the trio. "The world lies beneath your feet as the true inheritance of Atlantis. Our swords will finally cull the lesser races as they ought to have millennia ago, and the ancient banner of the swastika will unfurl across the globe. Rise, and rise, and rise."
A lot of this plot was inspired by the fact that when Kommandant Englander first appeared, she wore an Iron Cross (granted it looked like Davis had drawn a swastika which someone else had clumsily inked over), whereas in her second appearance it was clearly a swastika.
My original intent was to have Kommandant Englander's team consisting of pre-War German pulp costumed heroes, but it appeared there weren't enough to work with. Per Jess Nevins' research (buy his books!), I populated the story with counterparts of the mainstream Excalibur cast, renamed for characters from German adventure pulps: Black Bird, Mister Nobody, Miss Nobody, Bloody Hand, Sea Spider, and the Gentleman of the Air.
Sun Koh's proposed evolutionary theory (in which whites were descended from Atlanteans and blacks evolved from apes) was presented to me, apparently as fact, by a Montessori school teacher when I was a child. The combination of extremist racialism and bizarre pseudo-science has stuck with me for decades.
