Post by HoM on Apr 23, 2016 14:51:36 GMT -5
Previously, in JUSTICE LEAGUE…
Much to the horror of WONDER WOMAN and the rest of the JUSTICE LEAGUE, the Greek God of War, ARES, manifested on Earth after incapacitating the others gods in his pantheon and clearing the way for his dread agenda to spread across the globe!
At the same time, the witch queen CIRCE appeared on Laputa, headquarters of the team, and sought asylum-- she was pregnant with ARES’ child, and feared what would come of their unholy union!
After narrowly defeating ARES’ new champion-- the virtually indestructible vehicle of destruction known as the ANNIHILATOR-- the JUSTICE LEAGUE rallied and prevented the global outbreak of war, but CIRCE was snatched away at the last moments by the vengeful god, leaving the team at a loss even though they had won the day…
…But all was not what it seemed-- ARES and CIRCE were in cahoots, laying the seeds for their greatest plot yet-- the birth of their very own WONDER WOMAN!
Meanwhile, romance was blossoming between two of the JUSTICE LEAGUE’s founders, as BATMAN and WONDER WOMAN shared a passionate kiss after sharing an adventure. Since then, they’ve not addressed the feelings they share for each other, but that silence cannot last forever…
With all this in mind, please join us now for the continuing adventures of the JUSTICE LEAGUE--
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Diana, regent of Themyscira and ambassador to Patriarch’s World, stood on the balcony of her country’s embassy overlooking Central Park and breathed in the New York air. Even as she could taste the pollution, the urban fumes that came with being in the middle of a city, she couldn’t help but smile.
Diana could smell fresh cut flowers being wheeled down the street by Anton, one of the vendors who set up shop on the edge of the park. He always handed her a rose when he saw her coming, an act that never failed to flatter her. His Wonder Woman bouquet was a high seller, he once told her. Meanwhile, nearby, young Su Xianliang’s tofu stall had just seen off the first rush of morning commuters looking for a vegetarian alternative for their breakfast. Diana reminded herself that she needed to check in with Su about her sister. It had only been a few weeks since the operation, and Diana made a mental note to speak to her about it tomorrow. Su had always been kind to her, so it was only right that she return the favour.
There was so much noise, hostility and aggression in this city, but there was also the serene calm that came with the overabundance of good people, and good acts, and good spirits, that more than made up for the negative few. This city was a microcosm of a world, Diana had once told Donna Troy over mimosas, and what better place than a hub of culture, of wisdom and wonder, for the ambassador of the Amazons to establish her embassy?
Diana looked at her reflection and was reminded that she no longer had the tiara her mother gave her when she came of age on Themyscira. Ares had crushed it on the field of battle in Bialya mere days prior in an attempt to illicit a violent reaction from her, and to replace it felt… wrong. So she would go without it for now, and see where the world, and her adventures in it, would take her.
The phone in her bedroom rang and she wandered over to pick it up. The caller ID read Julia Kapatelis and Diana answered immediately with excitement. “Julia! It’s been too long--”
Julia spoke quickly, a fog of sadness over her words. Once the call was finished, Diana dropped the phone onto her bed and sat down, her hand at her mouth. “Oh,” she whispered, “oh, no.”
JUSTICE LEAGUE
“Here you go, sir. Can I get you a drink?” asked a secret service agent, as he handed the Guardian’s helmet back to him after the White House security team checked it over. “Alice is in the kitchen making lemonade. The President ordered us all to buy a glass. I can get you one while I’m down there?”
James Harper laughed loudly despite himself, checking his helmet for scuff marks. He’d heard about President Stuart’s exploits in the highest office in the land, and he found that the old dog still had ways to surprise him. Even as a kid, Jebediah had a trickster’s streak in him, something that the United States Marine Corp never could iron out of him. The secret service boys would find a hearty bonus in their pay checks if they kept the President’s granddaughter happy, reimbursed well for the quarter spent on their boss’ grandkid. But lemonade? Now?
“I’m fine thank you, son,” said the Guardian. “What’s your name?”
“Agent Gibson,” said the young man. He was in his mid-thirties, but being ninety-plus years old meant that Harper could call anybody son and get away with it, even if he himself looked like he was only about to clean-lived forty. “Ralph Gibson, sir.”
“Send Alice my regards, why don’t you? Remind her that I’ll test her on all those secret hidey-holes I taught her last time I was here.”
“I will do, sir,” said Gibson. He hurried off, and Harper noted the man’s wig coming loose at the back. Poor kid, that vain about his loss of hair at such an early age. He’d have a word with him when there were less pressing matters at hand, but in service to the president, there had to be a lack of ego. Vanity equalled ego to Harper, and he couldn’t abide either.
The Guardian stood on the patio outside the Oval Office, wearing his army uniform, his golden shield at his back. He wore the rank of colonel, having gone up and down the ranks available in his line of duty over the last near seventy years of service. Sometimes people stripped him of that rank. Sometimes they promoted him up. James Harper didn’t care either way. He would do his job no matter what the rank they gave him.
“I remember when you were a general,” said President Jebediah Stuart, taking a sip from the lemonade he was currently enjoying as he approached. “Not that long ago, was it?”
“I was demoted after the Global Peace Agency was shut down*,” said Harper, smiling. “Someone wanted to make an example out of me, now I’m back to being a colonel.”
“Godammit, Jim, if you’d told me I’d have put them in their place,” said Stuart. “But then again, you never liked playing the my-best-friend’s-son-is-the-president card, did you?”
“No, sir,” said Harper. “I fight my own battles.”
“Unless the Justice League is there by your side, of course!” said Stuart, chuckling. “I was surprised to see you back here so soon after our last conversation*, but pleased nonetheless. Can I get you a drink? My granddaughter is making this stuff fresh down in the kitchen,” he raised his glass, “every member of the secret service is buying a cup. I’ll take the quarter out your government pension, if you don’t mind! Best damn lemonade they’ve ever tasted they tell me. That’s my Alice.”
Harper smirked. “Sure they did, sir,” he said, “but I’m actually here on Justice League business.”
“Oh? And to what do I owe this pleasure?” asked the president.
“We received an anonymous tip that an attempt on your life would be made today,” said the Guardian.
“Jim, I have an entire organization dedicated to protecting my life,” said Stuart, still chuckling like the good ol’ boy he was, “I mean, I appreciate the Justice League’s concern, but I have to say--”
Agent Gibson returned, holding a glass of lemonade.
“Ah, like I said, an entire organization,” said Stuart. “Son, is that for me?”
Without saying a word, Gibson pulled his side-arm and fired three shots at the Guardian, who deflected them with his swiftly-drawn shield. As if on autopilot, the agent swung his weapon toward the president but, before he could fire off a round, the Guardian’s shield shot straight through the body of his gun and severed the firing mechanism. Harper dove at the agent and wrestled him to the ground, locking him into a rear naked choke to take him out of the game. The agent’s hairpiece fell off and landed by the Guardian’s shoulder, but soon enough the struggle was over and the Guardian rose, victorious.
“What in God’s name--?” spluttered Stuart. “That’s Ralph Gibson, he’s been on my detail since my term started!” He looked around frantically. “What’s going on, Jim?”
The Guardian retrieved his shield and unbuttoned his uniform to reveal his costume underneath. “The man didn’t make a sound as I choked him out, didn’t squeal or beg. Didn’t even say anything after he took the shot. Either he’s been a deep sleeper agent or--” He grabbed the President and stood in front of him as bullets collided with his shield. More secret service agents were approaching with the president’s murder on their mind, and the only thing that stood between him and certain death was the Guardian.
Harper would have smiled if he found it amusing. This was what he was built for. Named for. Nothing was going to get to the president on this day.
“I am growing impatient, Marlowe,” said Majestros, standing with his hands clasped behind his back before a window overlooking the city. The Kheran warlord was standing in the office of HALO Corporation’s CEO, Jack Marlowe, who was pouring over the specifications for a piece of technology far beyond anything any human mind could conjure.
Majestros was off the active list until the immense injuries incurred battling Ares* healed completely. He’d never gone toe-to-toe with a god before, but his teeth had grown back, his bones had knitted back together. The gashes across his face were simply bruises now. The only wound he allowed himself to feel was the blow to his pride. And when he was in a bad mood, he’d subject Marlowe to it, the only other survivor of the Daemonite / Kheran war.
Unknown to anybody but the Justice League, Earth was experiencing an occupation by an enemy force known as the Daemonites. Alien reptiles who could interface with sentient life and possess their minds, hidden to anybody who might be looking. The Guardian had recommended patience-- if they were to announce the occupation to the public there would be an outcry and, without Marlowe’s technology, they’d be unable to prove the point. Right now a cold war state was in place, and Majestros was eager to end that once and for all and end a war that had started tens of thousands of years ago, when he was a boy.
At least the old man was calling him by his name now, rather than the rather pejorative Spartan.
As ever, Marlowe didn’t react to Majestros’ comments. Being a thousand-year-old automaton had taught him patience, and their current project was one he’d been working on since he’d arrived on Earth in 1924.
“There. I’ve checked everything. It’s not an issue with the array.”
Majestros turned slightly. “I know. I looked at the schematics myself. Lord Emp was a technical genius.”
“The calibration is completely off,” said Marlowe. “Which is impossible…”
“Apparently not. But I checked the calibration, as did you-- it’s not wrong.”
“Then something else has changed,” said Marlowe. He ran his hands through his hair, a very human subroutine. “If the calibration hasn’t changed, then that means the atmosphere has. The atmosphere of the planet has changed in such a way as to throw off every single calculation it has taken nearly a century to make. I don’t understand… what’s changed…?”
Majestros looked out across the city once more, his Zoom Vision focusing on the molecules of the air. There was something different. A tweak in the molecular structure of oxygen. “I can see it. I had to look so close, you wouldn’t know if you weren’t looking for something specifically…”
“I need more information,” said Marlowe. “I vetted every part of the process apart from regularly checking if the atmosphere has changed. If we can figure out what’s happened to the atmosphere, then we can realign it to the calibrations required for the array.”
“What did this?” asked Majestros. “Who could change the very nature of oxygen on Earth? To what end?”
“The sooner we find out the better,” said Marlowe. “Can you assist me with the data gathering?”
“Of course,” said Majestros. “This needs resolving as soon as possible.”
The Batman lurked in the shadows of the Gateway Museum of Cultural Antiquities, awaiting Wonder Woman. The police were long gone but he wasn’t going to make himself known unless Diana was here. He was present to assist, not to take over, and he didn’t mind Wonder Woman taking the lead one bit.
“Batman,” said Wonder Woman, her voice cold and distant. She walked through the corridors with urgency, not looking up to where the Dark Knight had secreted himself. “Thank you for coming.”
Batman descended in silence and followed Wonder Woman as she led him through the exhibits. They exchanged no pleasantries. Bruce knew that she was hurting. Knowing her like he had over the last few years meant that he knew that she would talk about her loss when she was ready, and he didn’t want to distract from the case at hand.
“The detectives believe that he interrupted the robbery,” said Wonder Woman. “And paid for it with his life.”
“Shot with his own sidearm, signs of a struggle,” said Batman, nodding. “No trace of the weapon.”
The main exhibit was filled with shattered display cases, but the artefacts inside were mostly intact. There were two glass cases that were empty but for shards, and Batman approached them slowly. “I read the manifest provided to the police department. A handful of items were taken--”
“Diana!” Julia Kapatelis rushed into the room from one of the annexes and embraced the Queen of the Amazons tightly. “I’m so sorry you had to come here under these circumstances. He… Chris… oh, it’s such a terrible shame…” She looked around. “Were you talking to somebody?”
Wonder Woman glanced around but Batman was gone. “Just the shadows,” she said, “Chris was a great man. He didn’t deserve to die like this.”
“You’re taking an active role in the investigation?” said Julia, surprised, “I didn’t mean to drag you into this, Diana. I just thought you deserved to know… he always spoke so highly of you…”
“He always showed me great kindness and he deserves to have his killer brought to justice,” said Wonder Woman. “You found him?”
“Yes,” said Julia, “he was… dead when I got here… Diana, the security system was wiped, completely wiped. There’s nothing for days. They went back and removed footage. I can’t imagine…”
Diana could imagine Bruce’s response. ‘They cased the museum in the run up to the break-in. Their faces were on that camera.’
“What else?” asked Diana.
“The… signing-in book is empty, whole pages erased. That shouldn’t be possible, it’s ink and paper,” said Julia. “I knew Christopher for over twenty years,” she said, her voice becoming a stuttering sob, “his wife and children, his grandchildren… oh, Diana. No one deserves what happened to him…”
Wonder Woman held her friend while she sobbed, staring into the distance as something cold and hard formed in her chest.
“Door!” said the Guardian, an orange portal appearing behind the President. Harper stepped backwards, motioning for Stuart to walk back too, and the two men were suddenly on Laputa, in the halls of the Justice League, where the team stood assembled. Cyborg immediately began to scan the president to ensure nothing had got to him. Satisfied when Vic Stone gave him the nod, the Guardian calmly said, “You’re safe now, sir.”
“My granddaughter! Alice, she’s, she’s still there,” said Stuart, frantically. “Jim--”
“I’m going back,” said the Guardian. “I’ll bring her here. Cyborg will keep you safe until we’re happy the threat is over. The League is monitoring the situation. Beetle, sit-rep?”
“Some kind of electronic signal was activated over the greater Washington area moments before the first shots were fired,” said Beetle. “Bafflers were on but weren’t needed-- the attack was focused. They went after the President’s security detail and nobody else, apparently. Anyway, the computers are tracking the source, once we have it, we’ll take it out.”
“Good. Mister Miracle is with me,” said the Guardian as the New God of Escape handed him his golden helmet. “Jeb, I’ll get your granddaughter. You have my word.”
“Go,” said Stuart. He turned to Cyborg. “I need access to a telephone.”
Stepping back into the White House, an alien escape artist by his side, it struck Harper that it may have been President Stuart’s home, but James himself had been alive for ninety years. He’d walked the halls of the White House for what probably amounted to a decade in accumulated time, which was more than any president could claim. He’d protected men and women in these walls off and on since his assumption of the name ‘the Guardian’, and he’d be damned if he was going to lose one life on his watch.
“Where are we headed?” asked Mister Miracle.
“Last known sighting of Alice was in the first floor kitchen,” said the Guardian. “The source was right then. This… Pathfinder knew what he was talking about.”
A group of secret service agents turned the corner and opened fire. The Guardian knelt down and ducked behind his shield, and when he looked to see where Mister Miracle had gone, he realized the escape artist had vanished. The gunshots suddenly died out and he looked up to see Scott Free standing over the unconscious bodies of the men.
“You’re fast,” said the Guardian. “I keep forgetting.” The secret service agents were all bald. They were all wearing wigs-- or they were, before Mister Miracle took them down. Just like Gibson out on the patio. “That’s strange.”
“It’s the cape,” said Mister Miracle. He picked up one of the wigs and held it up. “There’s circuitry in here. In the lining of the wig.”
“Because a hat would be too obvious,” said the Guardian. He put his finger to his ear. {Beetle, I think I know who our perpetrator is. Is Batman online?}
{I’m afraid he’s off the grid at the moment, working a case with Wonder Woman in Gateway. A murder. Should I send through a communication?}
Harper was determined. {No, we’ve got this, but introduce a new variable to the computer’s search parameters: the signal the Mad Hatter uses for his mind control. See if that can’t help expedite our search.}
{On it,} said Beetle.
“Mad Hatter? One of Batman’s lot?” said Mister Miracle. He tossed the wig away. “Didn’t realise he was in the hairpiece business.”
“Neither did I,” said the Guardian. “But if he’s a Gotham rogue, then--” He clicked his fingers, a thought hitting him smack dab in the middle of the head. “Alice. This isn’t about Stuart, it’s about his granddaughter!”
Wonder Woman entered Julia’s office and was not in the least bit surprised to see Batman already working his way through the paper work on the desk. She picked up what he was looking for and handed it to him. “The museum manifest.”
“Thank you,” said Batman, taking the thick folder from his teammate. “The electronic version Doctor Kapatelis provided to the police lacked detail. I assumed--”
“--She would have her own annotated records,” finished Wonder Woman. “Smart.”
“I expect no less from someone you hold in such high regard,” said Batman, flicking through the pages. “So, tell me…who was the victim?”
“Christopher Papadopoulos, one of the security staff here at the museum,” said Wonder Woman, flicking through the pages of the books laid out on Julia’s desk. The answer was short and precise, leaving out any hint of emotional attachment.
Batman paused before asking his next question, an act that made Wonder Woman look up at him as he next spoke. “Diana, who was the victim to you?”
Silence hung in the air between them.
“…It doesn’t matter,” said Batman. “We’ll find the culprit. You have my word on that.”
“Batman--” Diana cleared her throat. “Bruce. When I first arrived in Patriarch’s World, my grasp of the English language was rudimentary. Learned through watching the world turn rather than being part of it.” She smiled. “Can you imagine? I was supposed to be a champion of peace, an ambassador to an entire world from an island of mythical female warriors. And I struggled to speak a language over 840 million people in this world understand. When I met Julia, she began to tutor me, and I caught on fast enough.”
“You’re quite the orator,” said Batman.
“Funny,” said Wonder Woman. “And obviously I quickly learned other languages-- you have to if you hope to spread a message of peace across the world. Did you know that over 1,200 million people speak Mandarin or some form of Chinese dialect?”
“Diana…” said Batman, noting Wonder Woman’s deflection.
“Hmm. My arrival wasn’t greeted warmly. I was called so many names that I didn’t understand back then and it was quite overwhelming. Some called me a pagan witch for my worship of the Greek pantheon-- which is funny now that I look back at it. A whore for the way I dressed. A slut. One day… it all became too much during one of my appearances… they jeered at me, and I hadn’t fully come to understand English, and I… I’m ashamed to say I cut the interview short and ran back here, to the museum.” She sighed. “Christopher found me crying, and he comforted me without condescension. Along with Julia, he helped with my learning of English-- taught me some words to describe those who treated me with disdain-- words I’ve never used in public-- and he made me laugh… I met his family, his wife and his children and their children, and he made me feel at home, which, considering back then I wasn’t allowed to return to Themyscira, was a welcome feeling.”
“I never knew,” said Batman.
“Why would you? Goddess, back then even I thought you were a myth,” said Wonder Woman. She brushed her hand against his. “His granddaughter is called Diana. They named her Diana. A greater honour than any bestowed upon me during my work as ambassador. It’s times like that… moments like that… that make it all worthwhile.”
Batman nodded, in complete understanding, then turned his attention back to the manifest in his hand. “I have the list of artefacts that were stolen.” He handed the paper over to Diana. “More your area of expertise. And some interesting commentary from Doctor Kapatelis.”
Reading from the manifest, Diana began to nod. “Four artefacts, three of Greek origin, another of Roman.” Her finger ran down the list and she cocked an eyebrow. “Purported to hold mystical significance.”
Batman began to unfurl his fingers, each one corresponding to an artefact as he listed them. “The Rod of Janus, Binding of Despoina, Bow of Charon and a vial that apparently contained water from the River Lethe. I know the names, but not their application.”
“Hera, I know what this is,” said Wonder Woman. She laid out the briefs of each item. “Julia was waiting to hear back from an occult advisor,” she found a post-it on the desk, “Jason Blood. They have an appointment next week for him to come in and look at the artefacts. You know the man?”
“I do,” said Batman. “This isn’t his style, but his… partner.”
“The demon possessing him, you mean,” said Wonder Woman. “Etrigan. That old rhymer would have burned this place to the ground. No, that’s just a coincidence. But the artefacts do hold significance. The Rod of Janus-- named for the Roman god, one who held many titles. God of transitions, of doors, gates and passages. Of beginnings and endings. What if the rod allowed the user entrance-- or exit-- from the museum once the murderer held it in his hands?”
“And the binding?” asked Batman.
“Harder to say,” said Wonder Woman. “Desponia was the daughter of Demeter and Poseidon.”
“That’s not a name though, it’s a title,” said Batman. “‘The mistress’, if I’m not mistaken.”
Wonder Woman nodded intently. “Desponia’s real name could not be revealed to anyone except those initiated to her mysteries, to the cult that worshipped her. She’s become known as a goddess of mystery and secrets. I’m surprised you weren’t more aware of her.”
“Yes, well,” said Batman. “Charon is the boatman that leads to the Underworld and the Lethe is the river that runs through it, one of the five. I assume a bow is a bow and water is water. When we find our man we’ll be able to find out more.” Batman pondered the manifest further. “Waters from the River Lethe…”
Wonder Woman watched the cogs inside the brain of the Dark Knight turn. He was putting a puzzle together, but missing nearly all the pieces. But even then, even with the few scant parts he had in his possession, he was beginning to see the wider picture.
“Supposition…” started Batman. “Had somebody on the staff recently experienced a bereavement?”
{I have a location, Guardian,} said Beetle. {I’m headed there now to take it out with Doctor Light and Barda. Cyborg will monitor from Laputa and the president is talking to his cabinet. Everything’s fine on our side.}
{Be careful,} said Mister Miracle, {The guy convinced a couple of dozen secret service staff to shave their heads. Don’t let him near my wife.}
{I heard that,} said Barda.
{I’d love you with or without your hair,} said Mister Miracle. {Miracle out.}
“Jervis Tetch has a Lewis Carroll fixation bordering on the obscene,” said the Guardian. “The whole mythology of the book series acts as a trigger for him, but he usually goes for hats, not hairpieces. But if the need was severe enough… he might have changed his MO to get the drop on her.”
“One of the most famous Alices in the world,” said Mister Miracle. “One of Barda’s magazines described her as the unofficial princess of America.”
“And she had to be his,” said the Guardian, cursing under his breath.
The two men had run through numerous groups of secret service agents and house staff-- all wearing wigs. The Guardian didn’t understand how Tetch could have got the drop on so many, but Alice was the priority. She was only ten, and--
“Godammit!” hissed the Guardian. Secret Service would have been outside the kitchen when Alice was in there. They were in there humouring her and her lemonade. Harper had held onto hope, but the military computer in his brain was telling him to expect the worst. His humanity fought back. Never give up hope, soldier.
“What?” asked Miracle, turning another corner. He spotted an agent and pump kicked him into a wall, knocking him out and the mullet wig off his head.
“Nothing,” said the Guardian. The two men arrived at the kitchen and the secret service agents gathered inside turned slowly, and in unison. Together they spoke: “I knew who I was this morning but I've changed a few times since then."
“Theory confirmed,” whispered Mister Miracle. “And by the Source, creepily too.”
{They don’t have Alice,} said the Guardian over their secure line, {else they wouldn’t be here.} He turned his attention back to the agents. “Let these men go. I’m giving you one warning, Tetch. Let them go or I hurt you.”
“But I’m not even here,” said the agents, speaking the Mad Hatter’s words. “And if I was then I wouldn’t be so inclined to help you after you were just so rude. Rudeness is a thing I cannot abide.”
{Scott, close your eyes,} said the Guardian. He pulled the pin from a flash grenade at his back and threw it at the agents at the last moment, blinding them in a flurry of light and sound. The two Justice Leaguers incapacitated the controlled agents and then found themselves in a room surrounded by unconscious bodies.
The Guardian looked around and thought through the layout of the White House. He thought about the secret nooks that he’d unpicked across the estate over nine decades of being America’s first and greatest super soldier. He reminded himself of every hidden place he shared with Alice. “There’s only the one in the kitchen.”
“Here?” offered Mister Miracle, as he flipped a secret switch behind a shelf and a door opened into the secret passage inside the White House.
The Guardian looked inside and could hear a young girl sobbing. “Alice?”
The sobbing stopped for a moment and a gentle voice echoed out. “Uncle Jim?”
“It’s me,” said the Guardian. Alice rushed out of the dark and leaped into his arms, and Harper stroked her hair softly as she cried into his shoulder. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay. We’ll get you back to your grandpa.” He looked over at Miracle. “How’d you find the secret passage?”
“Escape artist,” said Miracle, grinning. “Let’s get back to Laputa, figure out--”
“Oh, you found her! How lovely!” said a voice inside Harper’s head. He froze, his body refusing to respond to his mental signals. Free was still talking but Harper wasn’t listening. ”I knew I could always trust the Justice League to win in the end! And what a lovely victory!”
Tetch was in his head! How? Then Harper remembered that he had to take his helmet off when he entered the White House, how they returned it to him later on once it had passed their security checks. That sick bastard was in his head!
”Now, I want you to use that fancy teleportation trick of yours to bring her to me, so we can have a lovely little tea party. How does that sound?”
“Harper, are you okay?” asked Mister Miracle.
”Oh, I’m sure you will be, Mister Harper, Mister Guardian, but that’s when-- what-- how are you--??”
“Ttttttttake herrrr awwwaaaayyyy,” drawled Harper, his body rigid but mobile enough to hand Alice to Miracle. “Innnn myyyyy headddddd.”
“We can’t be having this! I’m sorry, but our business partnership is at an end!”
Mister Miracle took Alice away from the Guardian as Harper cried out, the pain receptors in his head firing all at once. He reeled back, and in that moment Free punched him square in the face, knocking the gold helmet clear off his face.
Harper fell to his knees, sweating profusely but free from the Mad Hatter’s control.
Scott Free removed his own mask and checked the interior, but could find no trace of any mind control circuitry. “You okay, Harper?” he asked.
“No… not yet,” said the Guardian, grimacing as he picked up his shield. “Door!”
Julia Kapatelis led Wonder Woman down to the offices that lined the back of the museum, explaining the story about the man they were about to meet. “Professor McMillan’s wife died in a car accident six months ago. They weren’t happy near the end, but the loss hit him hard. He’s thrown himself into his work.”
“And his work is?” asked Diana.
“Esoteric antiquities,” said Julia. “It’s kind of our speciality over here.”
Wonder Woman nodded slowly, taking in what Julia was saying. Batman had vanished once more prior to her meeting Julia.
“Diana, I can’t help but notice you’re not wearing your tiara… is everything all right? I know how much it meant to you, I know what it represented. Is all well on Themyscira?”
“Ares destroyed my tiara,” said Wonder Woman. “It’s not important, in the grand scheme of things. We fought a war and won… for the most part.”
“For the most part?”
“Circe sought sanctuary with the Justice League, but Ares was so powerful thanks to the war fever he’d spread across the world, we couldn’t keep her out of his hands. I have the oracles back on Paradise Island searching for any sign of her, but after Circe stole Hippolytus from us all, they’re not too inclined to help her, even by royal decree. It’s all so exhausting.”
“We’re here,” said Julia, motioning to the door emblazoned with Professor McMillan’s name and his title, Head of Esoteric Antiquities. She knocked, and a grunting sound emerged from inside. “That’s his way of saying come on in.”
McMillan straightened up as soon as he saw Wonder Woman. “Oh my!”
“Hello, Professor,” said Wonder Woman. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you?”
“Uh, well, of course!” said McMillan. “You’ll have to excuse the mess, my assistant is out at the moment,” he motioned around the paper-ridden desk and the box-filled office, until he settled on a chair in front of his own. Diana pulled it out for Julia, while McMillan scrambled around for a spare fold-out, which he set up for Diana herself. “However may I help you?”
“Professor Kapatelis tells me your speciality is esoteric antiquity,” said Diana, a warm smile on her face, “I was wondering if you might be able to tell me about the artefacts that were stolen last night? So I might have a better idea of what I’m looking for, and why they were taken?”
“Yes, yes, I can help you with that,” said McMillan. “Where did Roberto put my damn notes…” he uncovered a small book and opened it up to the relevant page. “Here we go. We were waiting on a consult with Julia’s expert in the occult, Mister Blood, but I had been able to glean the following from our research so far. The Rod of Janus is purported to be able to teleport the user from one point to another, but we could never figure out how to unlock its powers. The Binding is able to remove truth, as it were. If you wore it, you could apparently project a… an absence field, I think Roberto said? It’s all conjecture, of course. He thought that the absence field could remove knowledge, faces, anything from record. The Bow of Charon is the most interesting of the four, I think. Apparently, if you are killed with an arrow from the bow, your soul is marked in perpetuity. You can be tracked from life into death.”
“You could kill someone and then follow them into the underworld?” mused Wonder Woman.
“Perhaps,” said McMillan. “Absolutely fascinating, isn’t it?”
Wonder Woman nodded. “And of course, the waters from the River Lethe would remove memory from whoever drank them. A myth I know of from my own experience.”
“Yes, yes, we received numerous vials, but only one with any liquid inside. And, well, you purport to be the daughter of a tribe of ancient, immortal Amazons, do you not?” said McMillan. “With links to history most unlike that we ourselves are aware of. Absolutely fascinating. Absolutely.”
“I claim nothing, I own my history as I do my every action,” said Diana. “Could I ask you another question?”
“Well, of course, this is an absolute pleasure for me,” said McMillan.
Julia sighed just enough so Diana could hear. She turned and could almost see her brain mutter the word ‘corndog’. Wonder Woman simply smiled, well on her way to understanding the man sat in front of her. She unclipped the Lasso of Truth from her side and held it out for McMillan.
“What do you make of this?”
“Oh, my,” whispered McMillan. “This is your so-called Lasso of Truth, isn’t it? It can induce whoever touches it to tell the truth?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you going to ask me if I killed Mr Papadopoulos? I would tell you the truth with or without inducement.”
“That is not my intent, Professor,” said Wonder Woman. “You say I purport, that my history is unlike any you know, but is this not a symbol of my truth?”
McMillan took the lasso into his hands, and closed his eyes. “I believe only that which I see before me. I want to believe in something more than this but need to see it in front of me first.” His eyes opened and he laughed. “Oh, this is amazing. The way it feels, like a warmth spreading through me. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”
Diana leaned forward and her eyes narrowed. “Did you love your wife?”
McMillan’s eyes opened wide and he began to speak quickly. “At the end neither of us loved the other in the same way we did when we married. I have been sleeping with one of the professors here and I know Maria had been having an affair too. She left the house after we both confronted one another and she crashed on the way to his house, I’m sure.” He swallowed. “I don’t know who she was sleeping with but it made her happy and I can’t resent her for that. I miss her. She was my best friend, even if we didn’t love each other anymaaaa--” He dropped the lasso as the truth became too much for him, then frantically rubbed his hands together to dismiss the tingling sensation left over. “My God! How could you-- why-- ?!”
“Thank you for your insight, Professor,” said Wonder Woman, taking back her lasso. “You’ve been invaluable.”
McMillan shook his head and then turned his attention to his colleague, fire raging behind his eyes. “J-Julia, I don’t appreciate these games!”
“You’re an innocent man, professor,” said Wonder Woman. “You should take solace in that.”
The two old friends left the office and headed back to Kapatelis’ own. Julia spoke nervously, but there was an element of relief in her voice. “That was… intense, Diana. I know Christopher meant a lot to you, but I’ve not seen you so focused. What’s going on in your life right now? What’s happened?”
Wonder Woman turned a corner and was not surprised to see Batman standing halfway out of the shadows. His sudden appearance made Julia yell, but she quickly regained her composure. “What have you found?” asked Diana.
“McMillan’s assistant, Roberto Octavia, has taken numerous personal days in the past six months since the death of Professor McMillan’s wife,” said Batman.
“Do you think they were having the affair?” said Julia, looking the Dark Knight up and down and getting over her original shock.
“I believe so,” said Batman. “I have his address. Wonder Woman, shall we take this investigation to him?”
Diana nodded. “Julia, I’ll return shortly with news.”
“… and to conclude, Aleph International ranks number one in pharmaceutical sales at over sixty billion USD among the world-wide providers of medicine. We are an industry leader, and when we make moves, others watch on in awe. That’s why we’re here today. That’s why we’ll be here tomorrow. Thank you.”
CEO Alejandro Cuetes smiled as the board members applauded. He had won. The meeting had dragged on into the evening, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his office and check the progress on a half dozen projects he’d greenlit the month before, and now that the business side of things was taken care of, he could focus on the science of it.
Thanking those present, he excused himself and headed to the private elevator. The operator smiled as he approached. “Your office, sir?”
“Yes, Rolf,” said Alejandro. “Thanks for waiting up for me, but I can handle it from here.”
Rolf nodded and headed off, and Cuetes began to whistle some Iron Butterfly as the floors passed him by. When his office arrived, he began to sing along quietly, took a seat behind his desk, and let out a long exhale. “What a day.”
“You have no idea.”
Before Alejandro could turn, a needle was plunged into his carotid artery and he cried out. A burning sensation filled his neck and he jerked forward, clutching at where he’d been stabbed. The frantic motions he undertook in his panic caused him to spill the contents of his desk, but a split second later he turned and saw who had attacked him.
“Hello there, Ale-ale-jandro.”
Cuetes’ eyes opened wide and he realised how much trouble he was in. “Oh, God, I don’t-- I can’t-- what do you want?”
“Oh, honey. I just injected you with a self-replicating nanite fleet programmed to induce a severe stroke at my command. It’s mad little piece of technology and I stole and spent a half dozen fortunes to get it built. You know who I am. Do you understand that I’m being oh-so serious when I tell you all this?”
“Y-yes,” mumbled Alejandro. “Oh, God, please, don’t hurt me-- please--”
“I won’t if you do what I tell you. See, I have a plan. It’s a beautifully nasty plan. And you’re going to help me bring it to fruition. Because it’s either that, or I inject the very same payload into your three children. How old are they now?”
“Don’t hurt them! Please! Don’t hurt them!” begged Alejandro.
“How old?”
“F-five, seven a-and eleven,” said Alejandro. “Please…”
“Imagine them that young, unable to care for themselves, unable to communicate, because you said no. You understand?”
“Yes, please, just tell me what you want,” repeated Alejandro.
“Well, it’s pretty simple,” said his attacker, his smile growing, “I want to go into business with you.”
Batman and Wonder Woman stood on the rooftop overlooking Roberto Octavia’s apartment. The Dark Knight watched as Roberto moved from one room to the other, running a bath and pacing around impatiently. Batman spotted an ornate vial of liquid on his bedside table, and spotted the rest of the artefacts on his desk. “Cut and dry,” he said..
“Let’s go then,” said Wonder Woman.
“Wait,” said Batman, grabbing her arm before she could leap across the gap between buildings. “Diana, I know you’re angry. We can’t let that--”
“No lectures, Bruce. I know what needs to be done.”
Wonder Woman leaped toward the window of Roberto’s front room and smashed inside, her bracelets drawn before her face. Batman followed her in just as Octavia screamed and grabbed the stolen sidearm from his desk, firing off the clip. The bullets were easily deflected by Wonder Woman, the kinetic energy of the projectiles absorbed into the mystical armaments around her wrist. They fell lifelessly to the ground, and Wonder Woman trudged forward toward the man.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry,” said Roberto, falling to his knees, “I didn’t mean, I didn’t know-- please!”
Batman stepped in front of Wonder Woman and pulled him up, throwing him down into the chair in front of the desk. “You’re done, Octavia. You’re going down for a long time.”
“Please, I just, I didn’t…” Batman cuffed Octavia to the chair and turned to Wonder Woman. “It’s done.”
Wonder Woman wasn’t paying attention. She was looking into the bedroom, where the vial containing the Waters of Lethe waited, next to a set of razor blades. The bath was still filling with water. When she returned to the front room, Diana crouched down in front of Roberto, sadness in her eyes. “Why were you going to kill yourself, Roberto?”
Roberto was sobbing, unable to answer. She looked up and on the desk was the Rod of Janus, the Binding of Desponia and the Bow of Charon.
“I’m going to call the Gateway PD,” said Batman.
Wonder Woman put a hand on his shoulder. “We have him. I need to know why he did what he did.”
“Are you sure?” said Batman. “We have him. We can contact the GPD and have them do this. You don’t have to--”
Wonder Woman unclipped the Lasso of Truth from her side and Batman put his hand over hers. “Batman, I need to know why.”
“I don’t want this to hurt you any more than it has already,” said Batman. He looked at his hand, where it was brushing up against the edge of the lasso, and released Diana. “Hh. Do what you have to do.”
Diana wrapped Roberto up in the lasso and stood in front of him. Batman watched for a moment, before entering the bedroom. Diana could hear him turn off the taps that threatened to spill water out of the tub in the en-suite bathroom.
“Why did you do this?” asked Wonder Woman, looking Roberto square in the eye.
“I wanted to forget how much it hurt,” said Roberto. “The Waters of Lethe, they remove memory. I was going to drink and kill myself, so it all ended.” He sobbed. “I lost the love of my life and nothing made the hurt go away so I wanted to forget and be with her and this was all I could think of.”
“Why did you take the other artefacts?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t want to get caught. I know that’s stupid because I intended to die but I wanted a chance to make sure there were no loose ends so I figured out how to activate the Rod of Janus when I was in the office, then teleported into the exhibition. I only wanted the waters, but I needed to throw people off the scent, so I took more. Made it look like a focused robbery. I just wanted to forget.”
“I understand, Roberto. Now, tell me why you killed Christopher Papadopoulos,” said Wonder Woman.
“I used the Binding to hide myself from the cameras when I entered the museum, but it worked too well. My face was removed from the footage, as I expected, but it was also removed from Chris’ memory. He didn’t know me! He thought I was a thief! I tried to explain, I did, but we struggled with his gun and he… I… I ended up shooting him. I didn’t mean to. He just didn’t know.” Roberto looked up at Diana with red eyes, so much sadness swimming inside him. “I never wanted this. I just wanted to stop hurting so much.”
“I understand,” said Wonder Woman. “But what you did was wrong, and you must answer for it.”
Roberto nodded slowly. “I never meant to hurt anybody.” His hand darted for the Rod of Janus and his fingers brushed up against the metal, causing him to vanish from inside the Lasso of Truth and Batman’s handcuffs. There was a tumbling sound in the bedroom next door and Batman and Wonder Woman rushed into Roberto’s bedroom to see him drinking from the vial containing the Waters of Lethe.
“Please, please,” he begged, hoping the amnesia-inducing liquid would take effect but nothing happened. He slapped himself repeatedly in the face, but Diana stepped forward and restrained him, taking his hands into her own. “I just want to forget!”
Wonder Woman looked back at Batman, who held a vial that looked identical to the one next to Roberto. “I swapped out the waters with one of the empty vials from the museum’s collection.”
Roberto blinked slowly, the fight leaving him, then he fell backwards, passing out.
“I replaced his with a dose of tranquilisers,” continued Batman, turning away from Diana. “You’re the one who wanted justice.”
The Guardian stormed through the teleportation portal he’d summoned and emerged at the coordinates the Mad Hatter had placed inside his head. The room was full of armoured men, special forces from the way they carried themselves, and at the very end of the room, sat behind a small table set for tea, was the Mad Hatter himself.
“Oh, you weren’t supposed to come empty-handed!” said Mad Hatter. “I admire your willpower though, very few are able to push against my mind control signals.” He shrugged. “I’ll be taking my leave now, I’ll catch up with that lovely Alice some other time. But you? Time for you to die, Guardian!”
Harper roared in angry defiance and barrelled into the nearest special forces team, tearing at the party hats strapped to their heads and causing neural feedback to knock them out. Those he couldn’t knock the hats off of he simply knocked out. He was vastly outgunned but red with anger, but before he could get gunned down the Justice League smashed through the roof of the warehouse, ready to take down the rest of the Mad Hatter’s men.
“Guess you didn’t need us to triangulate the signal after all, huh, boss?” said Blue Beetle.
The Guardian made a bee-line for the Mad Hatter, who hadn’t made it far and was currently cowering before the might of the assembled Justice Leaguer. “Okay, okay, I give up! I surrender! Take me to Arkham! I’ll take my medicine!”
The Guardian grabbed Tetch by the lapels and threw him against the wall. “How dare you?”
“I’m not very well!” cried Tetch. “I need a doctor!”
“You’re damn right you’re not well--” said the Guardian. “--You’re not the ‘Mad Hatter’, you’re a paedophile with delusions of grandeur!”
Harper raised Tetch above his head and was about to drive him into the ground when the act caught up with him. The Justice League had taken down the mind-controlled special forces teams in a matter of moments, and now the Guardian had their leader in his grasp. He dropped him to the ground with a heavy thud and let Blue Beetle rip the mind control circuitry out of his hat and off his head.
“Are you all right, chief?” asked Beetle.
“Yeah,” said the Guardian. “Got my blood pumping is all. Where’s Alice?”
“Mister Miracle got her back to President Stuart,” said Cyborg. “We screened the secret service agents we handed him off to and the Atom and Doctor Light have checked out the brainwashed agents you took down back in the White House. Knocking their wigs off did the job and I’ve scrambled the transmitter Tetch was using, so we’re not going to have any reruns.”
“The FBI are outside,” said Hawkman, holstering his mace as sirens blared outside. “It’s over.”
“It’s all so sad. Christopher’s death was a tragedy, an accident… the killer is caught but what does that mean? His death didn’t… didn’t mean anything… what justice is there? What meaning?”
“I’m sorry, Diana,” said Batman. “In this life you quickly learn that there’s sometimes no meaning or reason behind death. It simply happens, sometimes naturally, sometimes unnaturally… but it’s one of the absolutely inevitable things in our life.”
“Hmm,” said Wonder Woman. “I’ll return the artefacts to the museum. And I think it’s time I spoke to Christopher’s family. I hope there’ll be some closure now that his killer has been caught. It doesn’t bring him back, but… it’s something at least.”
“I’m here for you if you need to talk,” said Batman. “If you call… I’ll come.”
Wonder Woman took a step toward Batman and her fingers brushed against his chest. They shared a look, and she smiled sadly, before flying off and leaving the Dark Knight to watch her go. He shook his head and began his own journey home.
NEXT ISSUE: Remember when all the main players who helped take down Kobra joined the revitalised Justice League last year, and how Booster Gold was amongst them? How come he never joined the team? Or if he did... what exactly happened, and what does Rip Hunter have to do with it? FIND OUT NEXT MONTH!
Much to the horror of WONDER WOMAN and the rest of the JUSTICE LEAGUE, the Greek God of War, ARES, manifested on Earth after incapacitating the others gods in his pantheon and clearing the way for his dread agenda to spread across the globe!
At the same time, the witch queen CIRCE appeared on Laputa, headquarters of the team, and sought asylum-- she was pregnant with ARES’ child, and feared what would come of their unholy union!
After narrowly defeating ARES’ new champion-- the virtually indestructible vehicle of destruction known as the ANNIHILATOR-- the JUSTICE LEAGUE rallied and prevented the global outbreak of war, but CIRCE was snatched away at the last moments by the vengeful god, leaving the team at a loss even though they had won the day…
…But all was not what it seemed-- ARES and CIRCE were in cahoots, laying the seeds for their greatest plot yet-- the birth of their very own WONDER WOMAN!
Meanwhile, romance was blossoming between two of the JUSTICE LEAGUE’s founders, as BATMAN and WONDER WOMAN shared a passionate kiss after sharing an adventure. Since then, they’ve not addressed the feelings they share for each other, but that silence cannot last forever…
With all this in mind, please join us now for the continuing adventures of the JUSTICE LEAGUE--
JUSTICE LEAGUE ROLL-CALL:
THE ATOM | THE BATMAN | BIG BARDA |
BLUE BEETLE | CYBORG | DOCTOR LIGHT | THE GUARDIAN |
HAWKMAN | MAJESTIC | MISTER MIRACLE | WONDER WOMAN |
[/b][/div][/div]
NEW YORK CITY:
Diana, regent of Themyscira and ambassador to Patriarch’s World, stood on the balcony of her country’s embassy overlooking Central Park and breathed in the New York air. Even as she could taste the pollution, the urban fumes that came with being in the middle of a city, she couldn’t help but smile.
Diana could smell fresh cut flowers being wheeled down the street by Anton, one of the vendors who set up shop on the edge of the park. He always handed her a rose when he saw her coming, an act that never failed to flatter her. His Wonder Woman bouquet was a high seller, he once told her. Meanwhile, nearby, young Su Xianliang’s tofu stall had just seen off the first rush of morning commuters looking for a vegetarian alternative for their breakfast. Diana reminded herself that she needed to check in with Su about her sister. It had only been a few weeks since the operation, and Diana made a mental note to speak to her about it tomorrow. Su had always been kind to her, so it was only right that she return the favour.
There was so much noise, hostility and aggression in this city, but there was also the serene calm that came with the overabundance of good people, and good acts, and good spirits, that more than made up for the negative few. This city was a microcosm of a world, Diana had once told Donna Troy over mimosas, and what better place than a hub of culture, of wisdom and wonder, for the ambassador of the Amazons to establish her embassy?
Diana looked at her reflection and was reminded that she no longer had the tiara her mother gave her when she came of age on Themyscira. Ares had crushed it on the field of battle in Bialya mere days prior in an attempt to illicit a violent reaction from her, and to replace it felt… wrong. So she would go without it for now, and see where the world, and her adventures in it, would take her.
The phone in her bedroom rang and she wandered over to pick it up. The caller ID read Julia Kapatelis and Diana answered immediately with excitement. “Julia! It’s been too long--”
Julia spoke quickly, a fog of sadness over her words. Once the call was finished, Diana dropped the phone onto her bed and sat down, her hand at her mouth. “Oh,” she whispered, “oh, no.”
JUSTICE LEAGUE
Issue Fifty-Three: “The Persistence of Loss”
HoM / RIMMER / BOWERS
WASHINGTON, DC.:
“Here you go, sir. Can I get you a drink?” asked a secret service agent, as he handed the Guardian’s helmet back to him after the White House security team checked it over. “Alice is in the kitchen making lemonade. The President ordered us all to buy a glass. I can get you one while I’m down there?”
James Harper laughed loudly despite himself, checking his helmet for scuff marks. He’d heard about President Stuart’s exploits in the highest office in the land, and he found that the old dog still had ways to surprise him. Even as a kid, Jebediah had a trickster’s streak in him, something that the United States Marine Corp never could iron out of him. The secret service boys would find a hearty bonus in their pay checks if they kept the President’s granddaughter happy, reimbursed well for the quarter spent on their boss’ grandkid. But lemonade? Now?
“I’m fine thank you, son,” said the Guardian. “What’s your name?”
“Agent Gibson,” said the young man. He was in his mid-thirties, but being ninety-plus years old meant that Harper could call anybody son and get away with it, even if he himself looked like he was only about to clean-lived forty. “Ralph Gibson, sir.”
“Send Alice my regards, why don’t you? Remind her that I’ll test her on all those secret hidey-holes I taught her last time I was here.”
“I will do, sir,” said Gibson. He hurried off, and Harper noted the man’s wig coming loose at the back. Poor kid, that vain about his loss of hair at such an early age. He’d have a word with him when there were less pressing matters at hand, but in service to the president, there had to be a lack of ego. Vanity equalled ego to Harper, and he couldn’t abide either.
The Guardian stood on the patio outside the Oval Office, wearing his army uniform, his golden shield at his back. He wore the rank of colonel, having gone up and down the ranks available in his line of duty over the last near seventy years of service. Sometimes people stripped him of that rank. Sometimes they promoted him up. James Harper didn’t care either way. He would do his job no matter what the rank they gave him.
“I remember when you were a general,” said President Jebediah Stuart, taking a sip from the lemonade he was currently enjoying as he approached. “Not that long ago, was it?”
“I was demoted after the Global Peace Agency was shut down*,” said Harper, smiling. “Someone wanted to make an example out of me, now I’m back to being a colonel.”
*Back in Justice League #42
“Godammit, Jim, if you’d told me I’d have put them in their place,” said Stuart. “But then again, you never liked playing the my-best-friend’s-son-is-the-president card, did you?”
“No, sir,” said Harper. “I fight my own battles.”
“Unless the Justice League is there by your side, of course!” said Stuart, chuckling. “I was surprised to see you back here so soon after our last conversation*, but pleased nonetheless. Can I get you a drink? My granddaughter is making this stuff fresh down in the kitchen,” he raised his glass, “every member of the secret service is buying a cup. I’ll take the quarter out your government pension, if you don’t mind! Best damn lemonade they’ve ever tasted they tell me. That’s my Alice.”
*That would be Justice League #48
Harper smirked. “Sure they did, sir,” he said, “but I’m actually here on Justice League business.”
“Oh? And to what do I owe this pleasure?” asked the president.
“We received an anonymous tip that an attempt on your life would be made today,” said the Guardian.
“Jim, I have an entire organization dedicated to protecting my life,” said Stuart, still chuckling like the good ol’ boy he was, “I mean, I appreciate the Justice League’s concern, but I have to say--”
Agent Gibson returned, holding a glass of lemonade.
“Ah, like I said, an entire organization,” said Stuart. “Son, is that for me?”
Without saying a word, Gibson pulled his side-arm and fired three shots at the Guardian, who deflected them with his swiftly-drawn shield. As if on autopilot, the agent swung his weapon toward the president but, before he could fire off a round, the Guardian’s shield shot straight through the body of his gun and severed the firing mechanism. Harper dove at the agent and wrestled him to the ground, locking him into a rear naked choke to take him out of the game. The agent’s hairpiece fell off and landed by the Guardian’s shoulder, but soon enough the struggle was over and the Guardian rose, victorious.
“What in God’s name--?” spluttered Stuart. “That’s Ralph Gibson, he’s been on my detail since my term started!” He looked around frantically. “What’s going on, Jim?”
The Guardian retrieved his shield and unbuttoned his uniform to reveal his costume underneath. “The man didn’t make a sound as I choked him out, didn’t squeal or beg. Didn’t even say anything after he took the shot. Either he’s been a deep sleeper agent or--” He grabbed the President and stood in front of him as bullets collided with his shield. More secret service agents were approaching with the president’s murder on their mind, and the only thing that stood between him and certain death was the Guardian.
Harper would have smiled if he found it amusing. This was what he was built for. Named for. Nothing was going to get to the president on this day.
LOS ANGELES:
“I am growing impatient, Marlowe,” said Majestros, standing with his hands clasped behind his back before a window overlooking the city. The Kheran warlord was standing in the office of HALO Corporation’s CEO, Jack Marlowe, who was pouring over the specifications for a piece of technology far beyond anything any human mind could conjure.
Majestros was off the active list until the immense injuries incurred battling Ares* healed completely. He’d never gone toe-to-toe with a god before, but his teeth had grown back, his bones had knitted back together. The gashes across his face were simply bruises now. The only wound he allowed himself to feel was the blow to his pride. And when he was in a bad mood, he’d subject Marlowe to it, the only other survivor of the Daemonite / Kheran war.
*Last issue
Unknown to anybody but the Justice League, Earth was experiencing an occupation by an enemy force known as the Daemonites. Alien reptiles who could interface with sentient life and possess their minds, hidden to anybody who might be looking. The Guardian had recommended patience-- if they were to announce the occupation to the public there would be an outcry and, without Marlowe’s technology, they’d be unable to prove the point. Right now a cold war state was in place, and Majestros was eager to end that once and for all and end a war that had started tens of thousands of years ago, when he was a boy.
At least the old man was calling him by his name now, rather than the rather pejorative Spartan.
As ever, Marlowe didn’t react to Majestros’ comments. Being a thousand-year-old automaton had taught him patience, and their current project was one he’d been working on since he’d arrived on Earth in 1924.
“There. I’ve checked everything. It’s not an issue with the array.”
Majestros turned slightly. “I know. I looked at the schematics myself. Lord Emp was a technical genius.”
“The calibration is completely off,” said Marlowe. “Which is impossible…”
“Apparently not. But I checked the calibration, as did you-- it’s not wrong.”
“Then something else has changed,” said Marlowe. He ran his hands through his hair, a very human subroutine. “If the calibration hasn’t changed, then that means the atmosphere has. The atmosphere of the planet has changed in such a way as to throw off every single calculation it has taken nearly a century to make. I don’t understand… what’s changed…?”
Majestros looked out across the city once more, his Zoom Vision focusing on the molecules of the air. There was something different. A tweak in the molecular structure of oxygen. “I can see it. I had to look so close, you wouldn’t know if you weren’t looking for something specifically…”
“I need more information,” said Marlowe. “I vetted every part of the process apart from regularly checking if the atmosphere has changed. If we can figure out what’s happened to the atmosphere, then we can realign it to the calibrations required for the array.”
“What did this?” asked Majestros. “Who could change the very nature of oxygen on Earth? To what end?”
“The sooner we find out the better,” said Marlowe. “Can you assist me with the data gathering?”
“Of course,” said Majestros. “This needs resolving as soon as possible.”
GATEWAY CITY:
The Batman lurked in the shadows of the Gateway Museum of Cultural Antiquities, awaiting Wonder Woman. The police were long gone but he wasn’t going to make himself known unless Diana was here. He was present to assist, not to take over, and he didn’t mind Wonder Woman taking the lead one bit.
“Batman,” said Wonder Woman, her voice cold and distant. She walked through the corridors with urgency, not looking up to where the Dark Knight had secreted himself. “Thank you for coming.”
Batman descended in silence and followed Wonder Woman as she led him through the exhibits. They exchanged no pleasantries. Bruce knew that she was hurting. Knowing her like he had over the last few years meant that he knew that she would talk about her loss when she was ready, and he didn’t want to distract from the case at hand.
“The detectives believe that he interrupted the robbery,” said Wonder Woman. “And paid for it with his life.”
“Shot with his own sidearm, signs of a struggle,” said Batman, nodding. “No trace of the weapon.”
The main exhibit was filled with shattered display cases, but the artefacts inside were mostly intact. There were two glass cases that were empty but for shards, and Batman approached them slowly. “I read the manifest provided to the police department. A handful of items were taken--”
“Diana!” Julia Kapatelis rushed into the room from one of the annexes and embraced the Queen of the Amazons tightly. “I’m so sorry you had to come here under these circumstances. He… Chris… oh, it’s such a terrible shame…” She looked around. “Were you talking to somebody?”
Wonder Woman glanced around but Batman was gone. “Just the shadows,” she said, “Chris was a great man. He didn’t deserve to die like this.”
“You’re taking an active role in the investigation?” said Julia, surprised, “I didn’t mean to drag you into this, Diana. I just thought you deserved to know… he always spoke so highly of you…”
“He always showed me great kindness and he deserves to have his killer brought to justice,” said Wonder Woman. “You found him?”
“Yes,” said Julia, “he was… dead when I got here… Diana, the security system was wiped, completely wiped. There’s nothing for days. They went back and removed footage. I can’t imagine…”
Diana could imagine Bruce’s response. ‘They cased the museum in the run up to the break-in. Their faces were on that camera.’
“What else?” asked Diana.
“The… signing-in book is empty, whole pages erased. That shouldn’t be possible, it’s ink and paper,” said Julia. “I knew Christopher for over twenty years,” she said, her voice becoming a stuttering sob, “his wife and children, his grandchildren… oh, Diana. No one deserves what happened to him…”
Wonder Woman held her friend while she sobbed, staring into the distance as something cold and hard formed in her chest.
WASHINGTON, DC.:
“Door!” said the Guardian, an orange portal appearing behind the President. Harper stepped backwards, motioning for Stuart to walk back too, and the two men were suddenly on Laputa, in the halls of the Justice League, where the team stood assembled. Cyborg immediately began to scan the president to ensure nothing had got to him. Satisfied when Vic Stone gave him the nod, the Guardian calmly said, “You’re safe now, sir.”
“My granddaughter! Alice, she’s, she’s still there,” said Stuart, frantically. “Jim--”
“I’m going back,” said the Guardian. “I’ll bring her here. Cyborg will keep you safe until we’re happy the threat is over. The League is monitoring the situation. Beetle, sit-rep?”
“Some kind of electronic signal was activated over the greater Washington area moments before the first shots were fired,” said Beetle. “Bafflers were on but weren’t needed-- the attack was focused. They went after the President’s security detail and nobody else, apparently. Anyway, the computers are tracking the source, once we have it, we’ll take it out.”
“Good. Mister Miracle is with me,” said the Guardian as the New God of Escape handed him his golden helmet. “Jeb, I’ll get your granddaughter. You have my word.”
“Go,” said Stuart. He turned to Cyborg. “I need access to a telephone.”
Stepping back into the White House, an alien escape artist by his side, it struck Harper that it may have been President Stuart’s home, but James himself had been alive for ninety years. He’d walked the halls of the White House for what probably amounted to a decade in accumulated time, which was more than any president could claim. He’d protected men and women in these walls off and on since his assumption of the name ‘the Guardian’, and he’d be damned if he was going to lose one life on his watch.
“Where are we headed?” asked Mister Miracle.
“Last known sighting of Alice was in the first floor kitchen,” said the Guardian. “The source was right then. This… Pathfinder knew what he was talking about.”
A group of secret service agents turned the corner and opened fire. The Guardian knelt down and ducked behind his shield, and when he looked to see where Mister Miracle had gone, he realized the escape artist had vanished. The gunshots suddenly died out and he looked up to see Scott Free standing over the unconscious bodies of the men.
“You’re fast,” said the Guardian. “I keep forgetting.” The secret service agents were all bald. They were all wearing wigs-- or they were, before Mister Miracle took them down. Just like Gibson out on the patio. “That’s strange.”
“It’s the cape,” said Mister Miracle. He picked up one of the wigs and held it up. “There’s circuitry in here. In the lining of the wig.”
“Because a hat would be too obvious,” said the Guardian. He put his finger to his ear. {Beetle, I think I know who our perpetrator is. Is Batman online?}
{I’m afraid he’s off the grid at the moment, working a case with Wonder Woman in Gateway. A murder. Should I send through a communication?}
Harper was determined. {No, we’ve got this, but introduce a new variable to the computer’s search parameters: the signal the Mad Hatter uses for his mind control. See if that can’t help expedite our search.}
{On it,} said Beetle.
“Mad Hatter? One of Batman’s lot?” said Mister Miracle. He tossed the wig away. “Didn’t realise he was in the hairpiece business.”
“Neither did I,” said the Guardian. “But if he’s a Gotham rogue, then--” He clicked his fingers, a thought hitting him smack dab in the middle of the head. “Alice. This isn’t about Stuart, it’s about his granddaughter!”
GATEWAY CITY:
Wonder Woman entered Julia’s office and was not in the least bit surprised to see Batman already working his way through the paper work on the desk. She picked up what he was looking for and handed it to him. “The museum manifest.”
“Thank you,” said Batman, taking the thick folder from his teammate. “The electronic version Doctor Kapatelis provided to the police lacked detail. I assumed--”
“--She would have her own annotated records,” finished Wonder Woman. “Smart.”
“I expect no less from someone you hold in such high regard,” said Batman, flicking through the pages. “So, tell me…who was the victim?”
“Christopher Papadopoulos, one of the security staff here at the museum,” said Wonder Woman, flicking through the pages of the books laid out on Julia’s desk. The answer was short and precise, leaving out any hint of emotional attachment.
Batman paused before asking his next question, an act that made Wonder Woman look up at him as he next spoke. “Diana, who was the victim to you?”
Silence hung in the air between them.
“…It doesn’t matter,” said Batman. “We’ll find the culprit. You have my word on that.”
“Batman--” Diana cleared her throat. “Bruce. When I first arrived in Patriarch’s World, my grasp of the English language was rudimentary. Learned through watching the world turn rather than being part of it.” She smiled. “Can you imagine? I was supposed to be a champion of peace, an ambassador to an entire world from an island of mythical female warriors. And I struggled to speak a language over 840 million people in this world understand. When I met Julia, she began to tutor me, and I caught on fast enough.”
“You’re quite the orator,” said Batman.
“Funny,” said Wonder Woman. “And obviously I quickly learned other languages-- you have to if you hope to spread a message of peace across the world. Did you know that over 1,200 million people speak Mandarin or some form of Chinese dialect?”
“Diana…” said Batman, noting Wonder Woman’s deflection.
“Hmm. My arrival wasn’t greeted warmly. I was called so many names that I didn’t understand back then and it was quite overwhelming. Some called me a pagan witch for my worship of the Greek pantheon-- which is funny now that I look back at it. A whore for the way I dressed. A slut. One day… it all became too much during one of my appearances… they jeered at me, and I hadn’t fully come to understand English, and I… I’m ashamed to say I cut the interview short and ran back here, to the museum.” She sighed. “Christopher found me crying, and he comforted me without condescension. Along with Julia, he helped with my learning of English-- taught me some words to describe those who treated me with disdain-- words I’ve never used in public-- and he made me laugh… I met his family, his wife and his children and their children, and he made me feel at home, which, considering back then I wasn’t allowed to return to Themyscira, was a welcome feeling.”
“I never knew,” said Batman.
“Why would you? Goddess, back then even I thought you were a myth,” said Wonder Woman. She brushed her hand against his. “His granddaughter is called Diana. They named her Diana. A greater honour than any bestowed upon me during my work as ambassador. It’s times like that… moments like that… that make it all worthwhile.”
Batman nodded, in complete understanding, then turned his attention back to the manifest in his hand. “I have the list of artefacts that were stolen.” He handed the paper over to Diana. “More your area of expertise. And some interesting commentary from Doctor Kapatelis.”
Reading from the manifest, Diana began to nod. “Four artefacts, three of Greek origin, another of Roman.” Her finger ran down the list and she cocked an eyebrow. “Purported to hold mystical significance.”
Batman began to unfurl his fingers, each one corresponding to an artefact as he listed them. “The Rod of Janus, Binding of Despoina, Bow of Charon and a vial that apparently contained water from the River Lethe. I know the names, but not their application.”
“Hera, I know what this is,” said Wonder Woman. She laid out the briefs of each item. “Julia was waiting to hear back from an occult advisor,” she found a post-it on the desk, “Jason Blood. They have an appointment next week for him to come in and look at the artefacts. You know the man?”
“I do,” said Batman. “This isn’t his style, but his… partner.”
“The demon possessing him, you mean,” said Wonder Woman. “Etrigan. That old rhymer would have burned this place to the ground. No, that’s just a coincidence. But the artefacts do hold significance. The Rod of Janus-- named for the Roman god, one who held many titles. God of transitions, of doors, gates and passages. Of beginnings and endings. What if the rod allowed the user entrance-- or exit-- from the museum once the murderer held it in his hands?”
“And the binding?” asked Batman.
“Harder to say,” said Wonder Woman. “Desponia was the daughter of Demeter and Poseidon.”
“That’s not a name though, it’s a title,” said Batman. “‘The mistress’, if I’m not mistaken.”
Wonder Woman nodded intently. “Desponia’s real name could not be revealed to anyone except those initiated to her mysteries, to the cult that worshipped her. She’s become known as a goddess of mystery and secrets. I’m surprised you weren’t more aware of her.”
“Yes, well,” said Batman. “Charon is the boatman that leads to the Underworld and the Lethe is the river that runs through it, one of the five. I assume a bow is a bow and water is water. When we find our man we’ll be able to find out more.” Batman pondered the manifest further. “Waters from the River Lethe…”
Wonder Woman watched the cogs inside the brain of the Dark Knight turn. He was putting a puzzle together, but missing nearly all the pieces. But even then, even with the few scant parts he had in his possession, he was beginning to see the wider picture.
“Supposition…” started Batman. “Had somebody on the staff recently experienced a bereavement?”
WASHINGTON, DC.:
{I have a location, Guardian,} said Beetle. {I’m headed there now to take it out with Doctor Light and Barda. Cyborg will monitor from Laputa and the president is talking to his cabinet. Everything’s fine on our side.}
{Be careful,} said Mister Miracle, {The guy convinced a couple of dozen secret service staff to shave their heads. Don’t let him near my wife.}
{I heard that,} said Barda.
{I’d love you with or without your hair,} said Mister Miracle. {Miracle out.}
“Jervis Tetch has a Lewis Carroll fixation bordering on the obscene,” said the Guardian. “The whole mythology of the book series acts as a trigger for him, but he usually goes for hats, not hairpieces. But if the need was severe enough… he might have changed his MO to get the drop on her.”
“One of the most famous Alices in the world,” said Mister Miracle. “One of Barda’s magazines described her as the unofficial princess of America.”
“And she had to be his,” said the Guardian, cursing under his breath.
The two men had run through numerous groups of secret service agents and house staff-- all wearing wigs. The Guardian didn’t understand how Tetch could have got the drop on so many, but Alice was the priority. She was only ten, and--
“Godammit!” hissed the Guardian. Secret Service would have been outside the kitchen when Alice was in there. They were in there humouring her and her lemonade. Harper had held onto hope, but the military computer in his brain was telling him to expect the worst. His humanity fought back. Never give up hope, soldier.
“What?” asked Miracle, turning another corner. He spotted an agent and pump kicked him into a wall, knocking him out and the mullet wig off his head.
“Nothing,” said the Guardian. The two men arrived at the kitchen and the secret service agents gathered inside turned slowly, and in unison. Together they spoke: “I knew who I was this morning but I've changed a few times since then."
“Theory confirmed,” whispered Mister Miracle. “And by the Source, creepily too.”
{They don’t have Alice,} said the Guardian over their secure line, {else they wouldn’t be here.} He turned his attention back to the agents. “Let these men go. I’m giving you one warning, Tetch. Let them go or I hurt you.”
“But I’m not even here,” said the agents, speaking the Mad Hatter’s words. “And if I was then I wouldn’t be so inclined to help you after you were just so rude. Rudeness is a thing I cannot abide.”
{Scott, close your eyes,} said the Guardian. He pulled the pin from a flash grenade at his back and threw it at the agents at the last moment, blinding them in a flurry of light and sound. The two Justice Leaguers incapacitated the controlled agents and then found themselves in a room surrounded by unconscious bodies.
The Guardian looked around and thought through the layout of the White House. He thought about the secret nooks that he’d unpicked across the estate over nine decades of being America’s first and greatest super soldier. He reminded himself of every hidden place he shared with Alice. “There’s only the one in the kitchen.”
“Here?” offered Mister Miracle, as he flipped a secret switch behind a shelf and a door opened into the secret passage inside the White House.
The Guardian looked inside and could hear a young girl sobbing. “Alice?”
The sobbing stopped for a moment and a gentle voice echoed out. “Uncle Jim?”
“It’s me,” said the Guardian. Alice rushed out of the dark and leaped into his arms, and Harper stroked her hair softly as she cried into his shoulder. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay. We’ll get you back to your grandpa.” He looked over at Miracle. “How’d you find the secret passage?”
“Escape artist,” said Miracle, grinning. “Let’s get back to Laputa, figure out--”
“Oh, you found her! How lovely!” said a voice inside Harper’s head. He froze, his body refusing to respond to his mental signals. Free was still talking but Harper wasn’t listening. ”I knew I could always trust the Justice League to win in the end! And what a lovely victory!”
Tetch was in his head! How? Then Harper remembered that he had to take his helmet off when he entered the White House, how they returned it to him later on once it had passed their security checks. That sick bastard was in his head!
”Now, I want you to use that fancy teleportation trick of yours to bring her to me, so we can have a lovely little tea party. How does that sound?”
“Harper, are you okay?” asked Mister Miracle.
”Oh, I’m sure you will be, Mister Harper, Mister Guardian, but that’s when-- what-- how are you--??”
“Ttttttttake herrrr awwwaaaayyyy,” drawled Harper, his body rigid but mobile enough to hand Alice to Miracle. “Innnn myyyyy headddddd.”
“We can’t be having this! I’m sorry, but our business partnership is at an end!”
Mister Miracle took Alice away from the Guardian as Harper cried out, the pain receptors in his head firing all at once. He reeled back, and in that moment Free punched him square in the face, knocking the gold helmet clear off his face.
Harper fell to his knees, sweating profusely but free from the Mad Hatter’s control.
Scott Free removed his own mask and checked the interior, but could find no trace of any mind control circuitry. “You okay, Harper?” he asked.
“No… not yet,” said the Guardian, grimacing as he picked up his shield. “Door!”
GATEWAY CITY:
Julia Kapatelis led Wonder Woman down to the offices that lined the back of the museum, explaining the story about the man they were about to meet. “Professor McMillan’s wife died in a car accident six months ago. They weren’t happy near the end, but the loss hit him hard. He’s thrown himself into his work.”
“And his work is?” asked Diana.
“Esoteric antiquities,” said Julia. “It’s kind of our speciality over here.”
Wonder Woman nodded slowly, taking in what Julia was saying. Batman had vanished once more prior to her meeting Julia.
“Diana, I can’t help but notice you’re not wearing your tiara… is everything all right? I know how much it meant to you, I know what it represented. Is all well on Themyscira?”
“Ares destroyed my tiara,” said Wonder Woman. “It’s not important, in the grand scheme of things. We fought a war and won… for the most part.”
“For the most part?”
“Circe sought sanctuary with the Justice League, but Ares was so powerful thanks to the war fever he’d spread across the world, we couldn’t keep her out of his hands. I have the oracles back on Paradise Island searching for any sign of her, but after Circe stole Hippolytus from us all, they’re not too inclined to help her, even by royal decree. It’s all so exhausting.”
“We’re here,” said Julia, motioning to the door emblazoned with Professor McMillan’s name and his title, Head of Esoteric Antiquities. She knocked, and a grunting sound emerged from inside. “That’s his way of saying come on in.”
McMillan straightened up as soon as he saw Wonder Woman. “Oh my!”
“Hello, Professor,” said Wonder Woman. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you?”
“Uh, well, of course!” said McMillan. “You’ll have to excuse the mess, my assistant is out at the moment,” he motioned around the paper-ridden desk and the box-filled office, until he settled on a chair in front of his own. Diana pulled it out for Julia, while McMillan scrambled around for a spare fold-out, which he set up for Diana herself. “However may I help you?”
“Professor Kapatelis tells me your speciality is esoteric antiquity,” said Diana, a warm smile on her face, “I was wondering if you might be able to tell me about the artefacts that were stolen last night? So I might have a better idea of what I’m looking for, and why they were taken?”
“Yes, yes, I can help you with that,” said McMillan. “Where did Roberto put my damn notes…” he uncovered a small book and opened it up to the relevant page. “Here we go. We were waiting on a consult with Julia’s expert in the occult, Mister Blood, but I had been able to glean the following from our research so far. The Rod of Janus is purported to be able to teleport the user from one point to another, but we could never figure out how to unlock its powers. The Binding is able to remove truth, as it were. If you wore it, you could apparently project a… an absence field, I think Roberto said? It’s all conjecture, of course. He thought that the absence field could remove knowledge, faces, anything from record. The Bow of Charon is the most interesting of the four, I think. Apparently, if you are killed with an arrow from the bow, your soul is marked in perpetuity. You can be tracked from life into death.”
“You could kill someone and then follow them into the underworld?” mused Wonder Woman.
“Perhaps,” said McMillan. “Absolutely fascinating, isn’t it?”
Wonder Woman nodded. “And of course, the waters from the River Lethe would remove memory from whoever drank them. A myth I know of from my own experience.”
“Yes, yes, we received numerous vials, but only one with any liquid inside. And, well, you purport to be the daughter of a tribe of ancient, immortal Amazons, do you not?” said McMillan. “With links to history most unlike that we ourselves are aware of. Absolutely fascinating. Absolutely.”
“I claim nothing, I own my history as I do my every action,” said Diana. “Could I ask you another question?”
“Well, of course, this is an absolute pleasure for me,” said McMillan.
Julia sighed just enough so Diana could hear. She turned and could almost see her brain mutter the word ‘corndog’. Wonder Woman simply smiled, well on her way to understanding the man sat in front of her. She unclipped the Lasso of Truth from her side and held it out for McMillan.
“What do you make of this?”
“Oh, my,” whispered McMillan. “This is your so-called Lasso of Truth, isn’t it? It can induce whoever touches it to tell the truth?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you going to ask me if I killed Mr Papadopoulos? I would tell you the truth with or without inducement.”
“That is not my intent, Professor,” said Wonder Woman. “You say I purport, that my history is unlike any you know, but is this not a symbol of my truth?”
McMillan took the lasso into his hands, and closed his eyes. “I believe only that which I see before me. I want to believe in something more than this but need to see it in front of me first.” His eyes opened and he laughed. “Oh, this is amazing. The way it feels, like a warmth spreading through me. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”
Diana leaned forward and her eyes narrowed. “Did you love your wife?”
McMillan’s eyes opened wide and he began to speak quickly. “At the end neither of us loved the other in the same way we did when we married. I have been sleeping with one of the professors here and I know Maria had been having an affair too. She left the house after we both confronted one another and she crashed on the way to his house, I’m sure.” He swallowed. “I don’t know who she was sleeping with but it made her happy and I can’t resent her for that. I miss her. She was my best friend, even if we didn’t love each other anymaaaa--” He dropped the lasso as the truth became too much for him, then frantically rubbed his hands together to dismiss the tingling sensation left over. “My God! How could you-- why-- ?!”
“Thank you for your insight, Professor,” said Wonder Woman, taking back her lasso. “You’ve been invaluable.”
McMillan shook his head and then turned his attention to his colleague, fire raging behind his eyes. “J-Julia, I don’t appreciate these games!”
“You’re an innocent man, professor,” said Wonder Woman. “You should take solace in that.”
The two old friends left the office and headed back to Kapatelis’ own. Julia spoke nervously, but there was an element of relief in her voice. “That was… intense, Diana. I know Christopher meant a lot to you, but I’ve not seen you so focused. What’s going on in your life right now? What’s happened?”
Wonder Woman turned a corner and was not surprised to see Batman standing halfway out of the shadows. His sudden appearance made Julia yell, but she quickly regained her composure. “What have you found?” asked Diana.
“McMillan’s assistant, Roberto Octavia, has taken numerous personal days in the past six months since the death of Professor McMillan’s wife,” said Batman.
“Do you think they were having the affair?” said Julia, looking the Dark Knight up and down and getting over her original shock.
“I believe so,” said Batman. “I have his address. Wonder Woman, shall we take this investigation to him?”
Diana nodded. “Julia, I’ll return shortly with news.”
MEANWHILE, IN BASEL, SWITZERLAND:
“… and to conclude, Aleph International ranks number one in pharmaceutical sales at over sixty billion USD among the world-wide providers of medicine. We are an industry leader, and when we make moves, others watch on in awe. That’s why we’re here today. That’s why we’ll be here tomorrow. Thank you.”
CEO Alejandro Cuetes smiled as the board members applauded. He had won. The meeting had dragged on into the evening, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his office and check the progress on a half dozen projects he’d greenlit the month before, and now that the business side of things was taken care of, he could focus on the science of it.
Thanking those present, he excused himself and headed to the private elevator. The operator smiled as he approached. “Your office, sir?”
“Yes, Rolf,” said Alejandro. “Thanks for waiting up for me, but I can handle it from here.”
Rolf nodded and headed off, and Cuetes began to whistle some Iron Butterfly as the floors passed him by. When his office arrived, he began to sing along quietly, took a seat behind his desk, and let out a long exhale. “What a day.”
“You have no idea.”
Before Alejandro could turn, a needle was plunged into his carotid artery and he cried out. A burning sensation filled his neck and he jerked forward, clutching at where he’d been stabbed. The frantic motions he undertook in his panic caused him to spill the contents of his desk, but a split second later he turned and saw who had attacked him.
“Hello there, Ale-ale-jandro.”
Cuetes’ eyes opened wide and he realised how much trouble he was in. “Oh, God, I don’t-- I can’t-- what do you want?”
“Oh, honey. I just injected you with a self-replicating nanite fleet programmed to induce a severe stroke at my command. It’s mad little piece of technology and I stole and spent a half dozen fortunes to get it built. You know who I am. Do you understand that I’m being oh-so serious when I tell you all this?”
“Y-yes,” mumbled Alejandro. “Oh, God, please, don’t hurt me-- please--”
“I won’t if you do what I tell you. See, I have a plan. It’s a beautifully nasty plan. And you’re going to help me bring it to fruition. Because it’s either that, or I inject the very same payload into your three children. How old are they now?”
“Don’t hurt them! Please! Don’t hurt them!” begged Alejandro.
“How old?”
“F-five, seven a-and eleven,” said Alejandro. “Please…”
“Imagine them that young, unable to care for themselves, unable to communicate, because you said no. You understand?”
“Yes, please, just tell me what you want,” repeated Alejandro.
“Well, it’s pretty simple,” said his attacker, his smile growing, “I want to go into business with you.”
GATEWAY CITY:
Batman and Wonder Woman stood on the rooftop overlooking Roberto Octavia’s apartment. The Dark Knight watched as Roberto moved from one room to the other, running a bath and pacing around impatiently. Batman spotted an ornate vial of liquid on his bedside table, and spotted the rest of the artefacts on his desk. “Cut and dry,” he said..
“Let’s go then,” said Wonder Woman.
“Wait,” said Batman, grabbing her arm before she could leap across the gap between buildings. “Diana, I know you’re angry. We can’t let that--”
“No lectures, Bruce. I know what needs to be done.”
Wonder Woman leaped toward the window of Roberto’s front room and smashed inside, her bracelets drawn before her face. Batman followed her in just as Octavia screamed and grabbed the stolen sidearm from his desk, firing off the clip. The bullets were easily deflected by Wonder Woman, the kinetic energy of the projectiles absorbed into the mystical armaments around her wrist. They fell lifelessly to the ground, and Wonder Woman trudged forward toward the man.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry,” said Roberto, falling to his knees, “I didn’t mean, I didn’t know-- please!”
Batman stepped in front of Wonder Woman and pulled him up, throwing him down into the chair in front of the desk. “You’re done, Octavia. You’re going down for a long time.”
“Please, I just, I didn’t…” Batman cuffed Octavia to the chair and turned to Wonder Woman. “It’s done.”
Wonder Woman wasn’t paying attention. She was looking into the bedroom, where the vial containing the Waters of Lethe waited, next to a set of razor blades. The bath was still filling with water. When she returned to the front room, Diana crouched down in front of Roberto, sadness in her eyes. “Why were you going to kill yourself, Roberto?”
Roberto was sobbing, unable to answer. She looked up and on the desk was the Rod of Janus, the Binding of Desponia and the Bow of Charon.
“I’m going to call the Gateway PD,” said Batman.
Wonder Woman put a hand on his shoulder. “We have him. I need to know why he did what he did.”
“Are you sure?” said Batman. “We have him. We can contact the GPD and have them do this. You don’t have to--”
Wonder Woman unclipped the Lasso of Truth from her side and Batman put his hand over hers. “Batman, I need to know why.”
“I don’t want this to hurt you any more than it has already,” said Batman. He looked at his hand, where it was brushing up against the edge of the lasso, and released Diana. “Hh. Do what you have to do.”
Diana wrapped Roberto up in the lasso and stood in front of him. Batman watched for a moment, before entering the bedroom. Diana could hear him turn off the taps that threatened to spill water out of the tub in the en-suite bathroom.
“Why did you do this?” asked Wonder Woman, looking Roberto square in the eye.
“I wanted to forget how much it hurt,” said Roberto. “The Waters of Lethe, they remove memory. I was going to drink and kill myself, so it all ended.” He sobbed. “I lost the love of my life and nothing made the hurt go away so I wanted to forget and be with her and this was all I could think of.”
“Why did you take the other artefacts?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t want to get caught. I know that’s stupid because I intended to die but I wanted a chance to make sure there were no loose ends so I figured out how to activate the Rod of Janus when I was in the office, then teleported into the exhibition. I only wanted the waters, but I needed to throw people off the scent, so I took more. Made it look like a focused robbery. I just wanted to forget.”
“I understand, Roberto. Now, tell me why you killed Christopher Papadopoulos,” said Wonder Woman.
“I used the Binding to hide myself from the cameras when I entered the museum, but it worked too well. My face was removed from the footage, as I expected, but it was also removed from Chris’ memory. He didn’t know me! He thought I was a thief! I tried to explain, I did, but we struggled with his gun and he… I… I ended up shooting him. I didn’t mean to. He just didn’t know.” Roberto looked up at Diana with red eyes, so much sadness swimming inside him. “I never wanted this. I just wanted to stop hurting so much.”
“I understand,” said Wonder Woman. “But what you did was wrong, and you must answer for it.”
Roberto nodded slowly. “I never meant to hurt anybody.” His hand darted for the Rod of Janus and his fingers brushed up against the metal, causing him to vanish from inside the Lasso of Truth and Batman’s handcuffs. There was a tumbling sound in the bedroom next door and Batman and Wonder Woman rushed into Roberto’s bedroom to see him drinking from the vial containing the Waters of Lethe.
“Please, please,” he begged, hoping the amnesia-inducing liquid would take effect but nothing happened. He slapped himself repeatedly in the face, but Diana stepped forward and restrained him, taking his hands into her own. “I just want to forget!”
Wonder Woman looked back at Batman, who held a vial that looked identical to the one next to Roberto. “I swapped out the waters with one of the empty vials from the museum’s collection.”
Roberto blinked slowly, the fight leaving him, then he fell backwards, passing out.
“I replaced his with a dose of tranquilisers,” continued Batman, turning away from Diana. “You’re the one who wanted justice.”
WASHINGTON, DC.:
The Guardian stormed through the teleportation portal he’d summoned and emerged at the coordinates the Mad Hatter had placed inside his head. The room was full of armoured men, special forces from the way they carried themselves, and at the very end of the room, sat behind a small table set for tea, was the Mad Hatter himself.
“Oh, you weren’t supposed to come empty-handed!” said Mad Hatter. “I admire your willpower though, very few are able to push against my mind control signals.” He shrugged. “I’ll be taking my leave now, I’ll catch up with that lovely Alice some other time. But you? Time for you to die, Guardian!”
Harper roared in angry defiance and barrelled into the nearest special forces team, tearing at the party hats strapped to their heads and causing neural feedback to knock them out. Those he couldn’t knock the hats off of he simply knocked out. He was vastly outgunned but red with anger, but before he could get gunned down the Justice League smashed through the roof of the warehouse, ready to take down the rest of the Mad Hatter’s men.
“Guess you didn’t need us to triangulate the signal after all, huh, boss?” said Blue Beetle.
The Guardian made a bee-line for the Mad Hatter, who hadn’t made it far and was currently cowering before the might of the assembled Justice Leaguer. “Okay, okay, I give up! I surrender! Take me to Arkham! I’ll take my medicine!”
The Guardian grabbed Tetch by the lapels and threw him against the wall. “How dare you?”
“I’m not very well!” cried Tetch. “I need a doctor!”
“You’re damn right you’re not well--” said the Guardian. “--You’re not the ‘Mad Hatter’, you’re a paedophile with delusions of grandeur!”
Harper raised Tetch above his head and was about to drive him into the ground when the act caught up with him. The Justice League had taken down the mind-controlled special forces teams in a matter of moments, and now the Guardian had their leader in his grasp. He dropped him to the ground with a heavy thud and let Blue Beetle rip the mind control circuitry out of his hat and off his head.
“Are you all right, chief?” asked Beetle.
“Yeah,” said the Guardian. “Got my blood pumping is all. Where’s Alice?”
“Mister Miracle got her back to President Stuart,” said Cyborg. “We screened the secret service agents we handed him off to and the Atom and Doctor Light have checked out the brainwashed agents you took down back in the White House. Knocking their wigs off did the job and I’ve scrambled the transmitter Tetch was using, so we’re not going to have any reruns.”
“The FBI are outside,” said Hawkman, holstering his mace as sirens blared outside. “It’s over.”
GATEWAY CITY:
“It’s all so sad. Christopher’s death was a tragedy, an accident… the killer is caught but what does that mean? His death didn’t… didn’t mean anything… what justice is there? What meaning?”
“I’m sorry, Diana,” said Batman. “In this life you quickly learn that there’s sometimes no meaning or reason behind death. It simply happens, sometimes naturally, sometimes unnaturally… but it’s one of the absolutely inevitable things in our life.”
“Hmm,” said Wonder Woman. “I’ll return the artefacts to the museum. And I think it’s time I spoke to Christopher’s family. I hope there’ll be some closure now that his killer has been caught. It doesn’t bring him back, but… it’s something at least.”
“I’m here for you if you need to talk,” said Batman. “If you call… I’ll come.”
Wonder Woman took a step toward Batman and her fingers brushed against his chest. They shared a look, and she smiled sadly, before flying off and leaving the Dark Knight to watch her go. He shook his head and began his own journey home.
NEXT ISSUE: Remember when all the main players who helped take down Kobra joined the revitalised Justice League last year, and how Booster Gold was amongst them? How come he never joined the team? Or if he did... what exactly happened, and what does Rip Hunter have to do with it? FIND OUT NEXT MONTH!