Phil RedBeard

League of Justice #2.8 “Men My Garments Wear”

Gotham City

It was All Hallows Eve in Gotham City, always a perilous time in a perilous city. For the past few weeks Batman had been hard on the track of a villain known only as the Scarecrow Killer. At each crime scene, always gruesome, there was found bits of straw and a crude drawing of a scarecrow. The press had got wind of the macabre setting, and thus another infamous serial killer was born.

The official police task force was led by Lieutenant Gordon. He was a good detective, but under funded and under appreciated. Most of the Gotham Police Department was owned by the Falcone Crime Family and the rest was too scared to do anything about it. Gordon was owned by no one, and as well as he could in a city as corrupt as Gotham, he served the law. Mostly the Falcones let him alone. One good cop could hardly spoil a city of bad ones. Besides, even in the most lawless of towns there had to be some law and order, otherwise everyone would move out and without people to harass and rob and govern corruptly, there was no money to be made. So Gordon dealt out what law and kept what order he could.

Thus, when the vigilante known as the Batman made his presence known, and the official order came down from corrupt Mayor to corrupt Police Commissioner to corrupt Police Captain, incorruptible Lt. Gordon ignored the order. Well, officially he obeyed it, but he didn’t try very hard.

On top of Gotham Police Headquarters, Lt. Gordon stood talking to the Batman.

“Oh, you’re under arrest, by the way. Remind me to take you into custody sometime, will you?”

“Sure thing, Gordon. Now, what about this latest murder by the Scarecrow. Any new leads?”

“Just one. We found a smear of makeup on the victim, but it wasn’t hers. The victim’s makeup was special order from a Paris shop. This stuff was more amateur hour, like what you find at a school theater or carnival or something.”

“I’ll look into it. Anything else?”

“Not yet, but the lab is going as slow as possible, so I brought you samples of all the samples we took. Maybe you’ll have better luck analyzing it. I’ve also got all the info from previous murder scenes here, if you want to compare.”

“Thanks, Gordon. I’ll get back to you. Oh, do you want to take me in now?”

“Yeah, but hang on, I’ve got to call my wife first, let her know I’ll be late for dinner. One last criminal to process, you see. Wait here.”

Gordon left the rooftop and went down to his office. He placed a call to his wife.

“Hello. Yeah, honey, its me. Look, I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. Meat loaf? Sounds delicious. Need anything? A gallon of milk. Ok. Consider it done. See you in a bit. Love you. Bye.”

And what with the gallon of milk and all, Gordon plain forgot to go back up to the roof to nab the Batman. It wouldn’t have mattered. Batman got bored waiting and left.

Bruce Wayne took off his Bat costume, just a simple black jumpsuit with the silhouette of a Bat printed on the front and a mask. A more complex, and battle ready, costume was on order, but for now, this would have to do. When he went prowling he wore hockey pads underneath. He hated being low rent, but even Bruce Wayne had to wait a few days for titanium reinforced kevlar biweave battle suits to be hand manufactured and secretly shipped, along with cowls and masks and boots and grappling hooks and, well, Amazon two day shipping didn’t cover super hero suits.

At any rate, he had the evidence that Gordon gave him and that would take time to sift through. So far the Scarecrow was killing at a rate of a victim a week, so he figured he had a little time. Serial killers sometimes escalated their time tables, but this one seemed to be building up to something, so he would keep to the schedule for now.

In reading through the back stories, Bruce came across something interesting: a link between victims. It seemed that all of them had visited the Gotham City Haunted House of Horror this month. It was a city run haunted house that had opened just at the beginning of October. This being Hallowe’en, it was the last performance and night it would be open. Batman strongly suspected that this was where the killer was finding his victims. Given the cheap makeup, he further concluded that the Scarecrow was possibly one of the performers at the haunted house. So, Batman decided that Bruce Wayne needed to take in the Gotham House of Horror that evening. Which he did. While there, a girl went missing, one that fit Scarecrow’s profile. Coincidentally, one of the members of the haunted house was missing as well: Jon Crane, a Gotham University drama student. He played a scarecrow at the haunted house. Batman had his man, and Bruce Wayne had a good time.

Now the hunt was on. Each victim had been tortured for eight hours before being killed. As tomorrow was All Saint’s Day, Batman knew that Scarecrow was probably planning a more elaborate killing and that meant a more elaborate torture. But where was the Scarecrow doing his torture? And when would he kill?

Batman had work to do.

League of Justice #2.7: “He That Outlives This Day”

Metropolis

Clark Kent sat in a student lounge on the campus of Metropolis University watching the Weather Channel. He should have been studying for his economics midterm, but something had caught his eye. The anchor was speaking:

“Hurricane Chris is brewing in the North Atlantic. Chris was a tropical storm just yesterday and today it is a category three hurricane. It is off the Grand Banks, and doesn’t look to make landfall, it should spin itself out without harming anyone, except we now have news of a fishing vessel that hasn’t reported in yet. We go now to our reporter on the scene, Dave. Dave?”

“Thanks, Bill. I am here in Gloucester, Massachusetts, home base of the Abby Gale. The Abby Gale left port nearly two weeks ago. She has been last reported some 200 miles off of Sable Island. Her crew of six has not been heard from since. It is possible that their trajectory has taken them into the heart of Hurricane Chris. If that is the case, we fear they may be lost at sea.”

It suddenly hit Clark: I can save those people. I could fly there and I could rescue them!

It was a scary thought. Who was he to rescue people lost at sea over a thousand miles away? Well, who was he to not try? As a matter of fact, he was the only man on the planet that could do anything about it. With that, his mind was set.

Clark had no idea how far or how fast he could fly. He had been practicing in short bouts all his life, but feared to go too far or too fast in case something went wrong and he couldn’t fly back home. His father, Jonathan Kent, had forbid him from using his powers in order to keep his extraterrestrial origin a secret. But this time, Clark just couldn’t sit by and do nothing. He, for the first time in a long time, new exactly what the right thing to do was, and knew that he could do it. He would be damned if he wasn’t at least going to try.

Gathering his books, Clark stowed them in a locker. He slipped out the door and into the dark alley behind the student lounge. Zipping up his scarlet “MU” hoodie, he launched himself into the air. Rising fast, he soon was above the cloud bank that hung low over Metropolis. He was thankful for the overcast night, as it gave him cover from eyes that might see from the ground. He pointed himself east and was off. He kept his arms by his side, his legs straight out behind. He had never quite understood the mechanics of how he was able to fly, he just had always known he could. As a kid he had floated around his room, rather than walking, until his mother caught him floating and hanging from the ceiling fan, spinning in a lazy circle. From then on it was walk or be swatted on the butt.

But lately he had been experimenting a bit more, and found that the general mechanics of flight applied to him despite the specific mechanics of his flight. Clark knew that he could fly at least sixty miles per hour as he had once raced a semi (unbeknown to the semi) and had kept pace above it on the highway. But, at that speed, it would take way too long to reach the north Atlantic Ocean and the Abby Gale. So he pushed. It was more of a mental effort than a physical one, a quickening of the mind than body. It was mentally like kicking your legs in a pool to swim faster, though to do so physically would actually slow him down. Despite his defying of gravity, the physics of drag still applied. Clark mentally shook his head. This was why he was studying economics, not physics. Physics was confusing as hell.

Clark could feel himself going faster. For one thing, the skin on face was being pushed back. He had no idea how fast, but faster. He pushed even harder and flew even faster. He kept this up for an hour or more, but now he was flying into the dawn. Huh, that’s a problem, he thought. The only way to continue to keep out of sight was to go higher, which solved another problem: distance. He knew that planes often traveled in a parabolic arc over the earth to cut down on time while lengthening distance. The longer path is sometimes the quicker path over the surface of a sphere. So Clark banked.

A few hours later, in early morning, he had reached the eastern seaboard of the United States. He crossed over the ocean and was flying north. Off in the distance his super human sight could make out the clouds of the storm wall. This was it. Banking downwards, he entered the storm. He was pelted by rain and wind, which made it hard to see. He wished he had thought to wear something warmer than a hoodie. The hood had swept off his head some time ago and was fluttering behind him like a tiny red cape. Clark thought he probably looked a bit dorkish, but there was no one around to see him, fortunately.

His blue jeans were soaked by the swirling rain, but he flew on. He had no choice now. He couldn’t very well stop with nothing but stormy ocean beneath him.

There!

Clark spotted the ship. It was being tossed on seventy foot tall waves, the out riggings groaning and whipping in the weaving, bobbing motion. Now what? Do I grab them one by one and fly them somewhere? Hello, my name is Clark and I can fly you out of here. How do you think I got here in the first place? Clark shook his head. Too much explaining and too much recognition. His anonymity would be blown to hell. Well, there is another way… Clark knew he could lift heavy objects, but again, how heavy was unknown to him. Once, as a kid, he had lifted his mother’s car off the ground to stop it from rolling over a little kitten. His mom nearly had a heart attack, but the kitten lived, oblivious to its near demise.

Clark dove into the churning ocean beneath the boat, instantly soaking what parts of his clothes weren’t already. This is gonna suck flying home, he thought. Swimming up to the bottom of the boat, he placed each hand flat on the hull and pushed harder than he had ever pushed before. The boat began to rise slowly. It was hard to concentrate with the wind and waves and everything twisting and seething and all the noise and thunder crash and lightning flash and rain pelt and…Clark centered himself. His mother, long ago, had taught him to drown out all noise and confusion and to concentrate on a single thought, a single mantra. Higher…higher…higher, he thought and everything else faded away.

Being careful to keep the ship level, Clark steadily flew out of the ocean, and then up above the swirling clouds. He was sure the fisherman were startled and probably scared witless, but they couldn’t exactly see him. He changed his angle of flight ever so slightly so that not only was he flying up, but also out of the storm. It took some time, as he flew slower under such a heavy load, but he managed to fly boat and all souls out of the path of the hurricane. He took them south west, towards safe harbor, and lowered himself and boat back down onto a calmer ocean. He held his breath as he once again slipped beneath the sea. From under the ocean, he saw the ship’s propellor start turning, and the boat motored off towards shore. Clark waited until it was gone from sight before launching himself from the ocean into the upper atmosphere. Actually, the faster he flew the faster his clothes dried in the wind of flight. Soon he was only damp, not soggy. He turned west, and flew back towards Kansas.

Actually in mid flight he fell asleep, but his subconscious mind kept him on course, but not on course for MU, but home. Something in his subconscious wanted to be safe, and safe was home. Also, as he flew closer he flew lower, and just as he was out over cornfields and farms he flew over a lonely section of nearly deserted county highway. There was only a single motorcyclist on the road. The sound of the engine woke him up and he swooped up above the clouds. He hoped desperately he hadn’t been seen. Clark looked around in confusion. Where am I? but then he saw the familiar green silo of the Kent farm and figured out what had happened. Drifting in the direction of the barn, he flew into the open second story window and let himself crash into the baled hay in the barn loft.

He instantly fell back asleep.

In Boston harbor, a group of eight fisherman aboard a ship called the Abby Gale were having a hard time explaining how they escaped a hurricane.

League of Justice #2.6: “We Few”

U.S.S. Enterprise, Atlantic Ocean

Admiral Russo was speaking.

“The foreign object made splashdown at oh four hundred this morning. NORAD tracked it coming down, and it slowed before impact. As of now we are classifying it as an extraterrestrial object. Our mission is to go in, assess the wreckage, and recover what we can.”

An actual UFO? Hot damn. I never thought I would see the day when we made contact with an alien species. And my mother said that joining the NAVY was going to be a dead end job that would take me nowhere. Hal thought.

“I’d also like to introduce Ms. Diana Prince. She is a new addition to our team that I know you have been getting to know.”

Heh. Getting to know. If only the Admiral knew… Hal thought.

“She is a civilian contractor with special skills that will be assisting with special operations.”

After defining some mission parameters, the meeting broke. A few minutes later, the team was gearing up. They would be taking a helicopter to the location of the underwater craft, then diving to check it out. Also on the team was Dr. Maria Kyle, team scientist, Dr. Alan Craig, team engineer (who designed the crashed jet), and Lt. Steven Markus, the only other soldier on the Admiral’s roster.

They geared up. As usual, Diana wore her metal bracers, but left her lasso off her gear list, for obvious reasons. Wearing wetsuits and scuba gear, they boarded the helicopter. It rose off the deck of the U.S.S. Enterprise. The entire team had transmitters in their ears, under their gear, so they could hear each other. Talking was done by subvocalization, so that while they were breathing through the breath mask they could still communicate.

It was a twenty minute ride from the aircraft carrier to the drop zone. They said little, but were excited for what might be.

Once there, the helicopter hovered, the rotors whipping up the ocean into a spray, and making the sea just below more than a little choppy. One by one they dropped from the chopper into the ocean and began swimming. This part of the ocean covered an undersea mesa, and thus wasn’t very deep. The object was embedded on the edge, hanging over the deep blue.

Hal kicked her fins and looked over to Diana, who seemed to be swimming like she was born a fish.

“How’s it going, D?”

Diana flashed a thumb’s up.

Not far under the sunlight dissipated and the team engaged their powerful search lights. The few fish that were around scattered from the intruding divers. Slowly the ocean floor came into view. It was craggy and rocky; here and there crabs and other crustaceans scuttled out of the light to hide behind plants or rocks.

“Does anyone see it?” that was Dr. Kyle.

“Negative.” Lt. Markus.

“The Admiral gave a bearing of oh point four. It must be just ahead.” Hal.

“I think it see it. Look one o’ clock.” Diana.

“I’ve got it. About four meters, oblong, silvery.” Hal.

“Wow. Look at the size of it.” Dr. Craig.

The divers converged, and examined the outside. The craft was shaped like a cigar, but fat in the middle. There was a bubble of a cockpit emerging from bulge, but other than that the craft was smooth. There was no visible means of propulsion.

There was a gasp over the comm.

“There’s a body!” Dr. Kyle.

“Is it alive?” Lt. Markus.

“Negative, unless this species lives with dents in their skulls.” Dr. Kyle.

Her search light illuminated a humanoid, purple skin, and bright blue blood, slumped against the canopy.

“He must have smashed his skull against the cockpit on entry. I’m guessing earth’s gravity is heavier than he is used to. Of course I’m using the male gender speculatively. This species could have none or multiple genders. But the cockpit looks intact. I don’t see water. We should lift this entire ship out of the ocean before opening it.” Dr. Kyle.

“I concur. If there are working electronics or onboard systems, we don’t want to damage them with water.” Dr. Craig.

“Let’s get to work.” Hal.

Digging with short spades, Hal and the rest worked to move rubble away from the craft. Other than the fact that it had crashed into the ocean floor, and was crumpled in a few places, it seemed relatively undamaged. Overhead a search and rescue craft had been moving into position. Lt. Markus swam to the surface to coordinate with the above team. Shortly a bunch of self-inflatable bags were lowered and secured to the alien craft by large, sturdy straps. Either end of the craft was accessible, so it was merely a matter of looping the straps around and cinching them tight. The bags were activated, and they inflated against the water, and with a gentle push from Diana, the craft began to rise to the surface. The divers swam with it, guiding it and making sure it didn’t rock or tip. Soon it was floating on the surface of the ocean and was secured to the side of the rescue craft.

The team hauled themselves out of the water and removed their masks. Hal was grinning broadly, and she threw a wink to Diana.

“A real live alien craft!”

“And a real dead alien.” That was Dr. Kyle. She was examining the creature in the daylight and muttering to herself. She moved all around trying to get a good look. Dr. Craig was measuring the craft, eager to get started analyzing it.

The rescue craft turned slowly and headed back to rendezvous with the U.S.S. Enterprise.

Half an hour later, they met up with the larger vessel. Under cover of a tarp, the alien craft was taken on board and stowed in a large lab that had been specially designed and added to the aircraft carrier for just this purpose. A few hours after that, the team got to work. The alien was carefully removed from the cockpit and laid on a stainless steel table. His purple skin gave off a slight shimmer under the artificial lights. He was wearing a close fitting uniform of dull green, and he was vaguely humanoid, though his proportions were all wrong and he had a third eye in the centre of his forehead. Each hand had four fingers, and on the left hand, there was a metallic green ring.

“What’s this?” Hal reached out to touch the ring.

“Don’t!” that was Dr. Craig, and that was too late. The ring, somehow under its own power, shot off the alien’s hand and zoomed onto one of Hal’s fingers. Try as she might, she couldn’t remove it. And then it glowed green. With a shimmer of green, Hal vanished.

I was taken to an alien world, or what looked like one. It was nowhere I’d ever seen on Earth. There before me stood the alien from our table, or one like him.

“I am Abin Sur. I was the Green Lantern for this sector of space. My craft was damaged and I tried to make an emergency landing on Earth. Unfortunately, I did not survive. What you are seeing and hearing is my last thoughts and feelings. I am from another world. You may be shocked to know this, but Humans are not alone in the universe. You have been chosen to replace me as the Green Lantern. You will be visited by another shortly after receiving this ring. They will explain to you what your responsibilities are to be. If you choose to become a Lantern, you will then swear the oath, and take up after me. If you decline the honor, another will be chosen. Until then, the ring will protect you. Defend Earth. Defend the Galaxy. Shine Green Lantern’s light. Farewell.”

There was a shimmer of green light and then I was back in the lab.

Hal returned to the lab and promptly collapsed. Seconds later, she awoke.

“Well, that was an experience. I think this guy was some kind of cop.”

She related what she had seen and heard. Obviously she wanted to accept the role of a Green Lantern, whatever that was. After all, how could she refuse the first alien invitation Earth had ever received. Besides, she still couldn’t get the ring off. All Admiral Russo said was, “We’ll see. And be ready for the next visitors.”

It wasn’t long before they arrived. Later that night, in Hal and Diana’s quarters, two beings like unto Abin Sur suddenly appeared.

“Hallie Jordan, greetings.” They spoke in unison. “We welcome you to the Green Lantern Corps. The Green Lanterns are charged with protecting their home planet’s and the surrounding sectors of space. We come from the planet Ungara, which is not far from Earth. Abin Sur has been protecting Earth for the last hundred years. Since his death, a new protector is needed. The ring chose you. Should you choose to accept, the duty will be yours.”

“Um. What will I have to do?”

“For now, as Earth is young and you are inexperienced, you will only protect your planet. The ring will guide you as you go. It is now connected to your brain, and will respond to thought and will. The task of defending the sector of space will be handled by other Lanterns. Will you accept the honor?”

Without a second thought, Hal said yes. After all, if the deed was done, she doubted Admiral Russo could do anything about it.

“Then repeat after us the oath:

In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight.
Let those who twist Lantern’s light,
Beware my power… Great Lantern’s Might!”

Hal did so.

The beings spoke again.

“The ring is a ring of power. It will create what you think. It will form what you summon. Any object, any device, any substance. These you use in the performance of your duty. Should you need help, we can be summoned by tapping the ring and uttering the oath. Do you require further assistance?”

“Uh. I don’t think so. Thanks.”

“Then farewell, Green Lantern.”

With that, they vanished.

And Hal Jordan became Earth’s next protector, Earth’s new Green Lantern. She stared down at the ring in awe. A few seconds later she turned to Diana, who through it all had been silent.

“So now what do I do?”

League of Justice #2.5 “Thoughts That Deck Our Kings”

Lt. Hallie Jordan and Diana, woman of nowhere, only spent a few hours at sea. It didn’t take long for the NAVY rescue choppers to find them. When they did, they were puzzled as to where Diana had come from, but they didn’t ask questions. That would be for Admiral Russo.

Admiral Russo was the commanding officer for this particular test aircraft program, and he was Hallie’s direct superior officer.

“So, Lt. Jordan. Care to explain where she came from?”

“Sir. Yes, Sir. She rescued me, sir. I crashed on an uncharted island, and she and her tribe pulled me from the water. Unfortunately, the aircraft did not survive. It broke up on impact. All I managed to recover was myself and my life raft. Being that her people were unknowns, I incinerated the aircraft, thus preserving the secrets it contained.”

“Horseshit. I don’t suppose I’m going to get a straight answer. Should I court martial you here or wait until after breakfast?”

“At your earliest convenience, please sir.”

“Fine. You are charged with insubordination and willful destruction of NAVY property. I hereby sentence you to drift aimlessly at sea for 36 hours.” He smacked a closed fist on his desk. “Now, considering time already served, I hereby release you from custody. You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.” Hallie saluted and left the office. Diana remained.

“Now, miss, what are you and where did you come from?”

“In actual fact, Admiral, much of Lt. Jordan’s story is true. However, my people wish for total anonymity and seclusion. Lt. Jordan does not know where our island lies and I will not tell you. It is highly unlikely the United States NAVY or any other force on the planet will find it unless we wish them to.”

Admiral Russo cocked an eyebrow.

“That so?”

“It is.”

“Very well. So what do I do with you?”

“I request asylum in the United States of America as a foreign refugee.”

“Request granted. Look, I don’t know who you are or where you came from. I can’t formally do anything about you except either throw you in the brig or put you off at the nearest port. But, I do have a rather large jurisdiction when it comes to this program and its personnel. I will hire you as an outside survival consultant. How’s that? You won’t be a citizen, but you can apply for citizenship later. For now, you’ll work with Hal and under me. That work for you?”

“It does. Thank you, sir.”

“Welcome to the American NAVY, miss…?”

“Diana.”

“Diana. What, you don’t have a last name?”

“Diana Prince.”

“Welcome to the American NAVY, Miss Prince.”

With that, Diana was part of the team. As she was to find out, Admiral Russo’s unit was an oddball mix and one extra person suddenly part of the team raised few official eyebrows. Admiral Russo managed to concoct and present some of the best special equipment the US Armed Forces had ever seen, so he did indeed have much freedom to do whatever he damn well pleased. His superiors didn’t want to accidentally disrupt whatever good things he had going.

***

Well, that went well. I figured the Admiral would go for Diana. Besides, she’s pretty hot. I can’t imagine anyone turning her down. And, I’ve now got the hottest bunkmate on the ship. All those poor sailors are going to be so disappointed. Well, now to find that weasel who designed my jet and give him shit. After all, encounter an invisible force field and immediately go nuts a crash? What kind of jet is that?

***

Diana and Hal returned to Hal’s quarters. First order of business was to shower and get stowed. After that, they went to the mess for a hot meal. After a few hours of R&R, Hal and Diana felt almost human again. Nothing makes a body weary like being lost at sea. There were a few curious glances at Diana, but a few “Classified”s later and people started to ignore her. Anyway, she was with Hal and everyone knew about Hal so most people assumed that not only was Diana part of a top secret something, she was also playing for the other team. Whether she was or not was actually to be determined, something Hal wanted desperately to know, but wasn’t sure how to bring up.

***

So, do you want to have sex with another girl? Do you girls do that sort of thing where you’re from? Doesn’t really seem appropriate ice breaker territory. No, I’ll just have to play the long game on this one and see where it leads. Patience, Hal. Patience. All good, hot sultry things come to those that wait.

***

General Russo, given Hal’s ordeal, was kind enough to give her a few days leave. Besides, the plane was gone and there wasn’t much to do at the moment anyway. A test pilot is usually good only for flying things. With nothing to fly, no need for a pilot. So, Hal made use of the time well. She taught Diana all about American culture. Together they watched Star Wars, played ping pong and poker, had a hilarious night getting drunk and teaching Diana to swear, and no small amount of flirting. Diana, as it turned out, was a switch hitter. Nothing made Hal more happy. They hit it off well, and in no time were getting in plenty of batting practice. All in all, it was the best few days of Hal Jordan’s life.

Then, for the first time in known human history, humanity made contact with an alien race. That the alien died soon after contact was unfortunate, but also not the fault of humans. As first contacts go, it wasn’t too bad. But the nature of that contact changed the course of humanity’s future and Hal Jordan’s life forever.

League of Justice: #2.4: “The Hideous God of War”

Gotham City

“Alfred, do you know what I remember about that night?”

Bruce Wayne and his butler, surrogate father, and friend Alfred Pennyworth sat by Bruce’s father’s bedside at Gotham General Hospital. As always, the medical monitors beat out a steady rhythm, indicating that while Thomas Wayne yet lived, he was far from alive.

“What do you remember, Master Wayne?”

Bruce and Alfred were sitting in large chairs, as they often did these days, visiting Thomas. Since Bruce’s abduction by the terrorist Ra’s al Ghul, he had taken to visiting his father more often. Throughout most of his childhood and young adulthood he had avoided the hospital room, preferring not to be reminded of the night his parent’s died.

“I remember bats.”

“Why bats, Master Bruce?”

“There must have been some nesting underneath the rusted fire escapes in that alley. After the gunshots, I heard them squeaking and growing restless. Since then, I’ve often heard bats in my dreams, around the edges, squeaking.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, Master Bruce. You know, we have bats nesting on the grounds of Wayne Manor, now that I think of it.”

“Do we? That seems appropriate, then.”

“Appropriate for what, Master Bruce.”

“For what I am about to do, Alfred.”

“And what is that, sir?”

“I’m going to become the world’s first superhero.”

“You’re what, sir?”

“The world’s first superhero. I’ve been planning it my whole life. When my parent’s died, I vowed that such a horrible thing would never happen to anyone ever again. After a while I learned that such a vow was impossible, but I’ve also learned much about how the world works. One thing I know for sure: Gotham City is corrupt and full of evil. If I cannot rid the world of such evil, I will work to rid Gotham of as much of it as I can.”

“A lofty goal, sir, but you’ll hardly need to be a superhero to do so.”

“No. I could become a cop or a lawyer or politician, but all of those people have to work inside the law, inside the system. Our system is broken. It needs to be destroyed before it can be good and whole. Besides, I cannot be hampered by laws which I would have to obey. I need to be more than just another cop. I need to be a symbol, something for good people to rally behind, to support, to take hope from.”

“What symbol, sir?”

“I was thinking bats, Alfred. I was thinking of becoming the Bat Man.”

“Evocative. I assume this persona will also be a way to hide your true identity as Bruce Wayne, then, sir? To protect your ordinary self from the crimes of your super hero?”

“Actually, its the other way around. I am Batman. I am that hideous god of war. Bruce Wayne will be the persona that protects Batman from the crimes of the ordinary world.”

For the first time, Alfred looked sad.

“It’s nothing I haven’t already been doing, Alfred.”

“Oh? I haven’t heard anything about a Batman.”

“No, but there have been rumors growing of a Phantom Stranger…”

It took only a second.

“So that’s what you’ve been doing with your time. I wondered.”

Bruce smirked.

“But it is time for the Phantom Stranger to be replaced by an even darker and more powerful knight of justice.”

“How will you achieve this Batman, sir? Have you suddenly sprouted wings or fangs or some other extraordinary powers?”

“I am rich, Alfred. Anything I need I will either design or buy for myself. The rest of Batman is already provided for. I wasn’t lying when I said I was already Batman. Batman does not need super powers. He only needs resolve and the will to fight injustice. That resolve I have. Besides, during my time with Ra’s al Ghul, I learned much.”

“I thought you were being held for ransom, sir.”

“I was. But Ra’s said even a prisoner needs to learn. So he taught me the ways of his Underground. He taught me combat, tactics, deception, and even a little theatricality. He was not content for me to sit in a cell for all those months. After a few months, I learned what he taught to escape. I then traveled the world, learning what I could from other organizations. I spent time with the Israeli army. I worked with the Russian navy. I was even a smuggler for the Taiwanese for a month. There is a reason I didn’t return until November that year. I was in training. Now I am ready. I am going to attend Gotham City College, and start working at the Applied Sciences division of Wayne Enterprises. That way I can further my education, cement a reputation as Bruce Wayne, and develop the tools Batman may need.”

“A worthy plan, Master Bruce. May I say: I will assist you however you need. You see, I made a vow of my own, to your father and his father before him to always protect and assist the members of his family. As you are taking on the role of the protector of a city, you’ll need someone to help protect you. I am, as always, your humble butler, sir.”

“Thank you, Alfred. That means more than you’ll know. Now, if you don’t mind, I want a few minutes with my father alone.”

“Of course, Master Bruce. I’ll be warming up the car.”

With that, Alfred left.

So, the boy has become a man. Alfred thought. My instincts were correct and I am indebted to Ra’s. An angry, unguided youth left and a determined, purposeful man has returned. A batman. No, THE Batman. If I were Gotham’s criminals, I would tremble this night. An avenger is coming, and their time is now limited. I must now ensure that Bruce does not become lost inside this monster he seeks to create. I must not loose him as I lost his mother and father. I must work to protect the boy they entrusted to me.

League of Justice #2.3: “The Name of Action”

Unknown LexCorp Research Facility

Barry Allen lay on his cot, completely exhausted. For two weeks he had been systematically tortured by Lex Luthor’s barbarians of pain. He didn’t know where Luthor found people of such heinous, devious natures, but he was sure they were cryogenically preserved and reanimated ministers of the Spanish Inquisition.

“I’m so glad I didn’t go into the organic sciences.” Barry muttered to himself. “BIOLOGISTS ARE BASTARDS!” he shouted at the ceiling. “Human biologists must remove their heart during the first semester.” Barry was back to muttering. “WHAT, DIDJA RUN OUT OF STUFF TO POKE? YOU GREMLINS!” and back to shouting. All of this was for the benefit of whatever poor bastard drew the night shift. Barry found out early on that he was constantly being recorded, both sound and video. As his own little revenge plot he had begun taunting and verbally abusing the scientists who were watching.

“Oh! Pain!! My leg feels fuzzy. Now it smells green! It has the color of six!! Better check it out!!” After two weeks, he was beginning to crack. One thing was for sure, whatever psychologist they had evaluating him must be collecting data for the paper of his or her career.

In the objective, outside-Barry reality, he was being treated fairly well. He was given three nutritionally, and tastefully it must be admitted, prepared meals every day. He was made to exercise and perform a variety of physical and mental tasks. Most of that Barry would probably have performed anyway as to study himself in the wake of his accident. What he grew to hate were the constant blood draws and medical tests. MRI, PET, CAT, EEG, EKG, etc – he’d had all the acronyms and letters more times than he could count now. But even then, he was treated humanely and suffered very little physical discomfort.

Still, imprisonment is imprisonment. Tests without consent is abuse. Torture is torture.

He had tried pleading to speak with Lex Luthor, with anyone in charge, with anyone at all, but outside of his tests and questions about his feelings (mental and physical) he had talked with no one. Most of his responses were collected electronically by a computer that seemed to only run the medical testing software.

For two weeks this had lasted. In that time, the scientist part of Barry Allen continued to function. He knew that his physical responses had passed human athlete some time ago and were approaching the level of human extraordinary. His mind and his mental faculties now operated on a level somewhere beyond genius and at a speed never before seen. He could calculate large numbers in an instant, he had nearly perfect recall of everything back to his accident. His mind before the accident seemed flash frozen, he could remember no more or less about events and things before then than he could before. Knowledge gained before his accident was just as accessible now as then. But anything he had learned since, anything experience since, was recalled or remembered with perfect clarity and as quickly as if it had just been learned or experienced.

Emotionally, Barry was reacting just as one would expect. He was enduring, but with less and less patience as the imprisonment lasted.

It was in the beginning of his third week that Barry discovered just how much he had changed, just what exactly his accident had done to him, and just what the testing of the LexCorp scientists had unleashed.

He was running on a treadmill, breathing heavily, as he had been running for nearly twenty minutes. He had not slept well, and was more irritable and annoyed than usual. Every second that he ran his frustration mounted. Suddenly, he had more than he could handle. Out of sheer frustration, he yelled and ran as fast as he possibly could. It wasn’t very fast, but what happened next happened in a fraction of a fraction of an instant. There was a bright flash and Barry vanished. The wires that had been connected to his head and body simply fell to the floor, or dragged along the still moving conveyor belt of the treadmill.

From Barry’s perspective, he was running, and was very, very irritated. He was screaming to himself, mostly incoherently, and the only constant thought was “I must get free, I must get free, I must get free” he was repeating it like a mantra, one word for each footfall, pound-pound-pound-pound-I-must-get-free- when all of sudden everything flashed brightly and the lab vanished to be replaced by sandy hills and scrub brush and he was stumbling to a halt in the middle of a desert. There were no buildings in sight, no people, only bright, burning sun.

What the hell? he thought, as he started running up a small, sandy hill. What. The. He..flash. The desert vanished and he was in a dusty, dirty plywood city. More a film set, really. Wait…Barry recognized one of the buildings: Mos Espa? He was on….Tatooine?

Exactly four seconds later, Barry realized exactly where he was: the abandoned Star Wars sets in Tunisia, Africa. His frustration and irritation melted into total bewilderment.

“Dude, where did you come from?”

“Huh?” Barry turned around to see a group of overweight Americans. (They could only be from one country by their dress and accents.)

“Dude, you just appeared out of nowhere.”

“I, uh, I don’t know. Say, do you have any water?”

“Yeah, man, here.”

Barry drank the entire bottle that he was offered.

“Thanks. Uh, I need a ride to the nearest city. Any chance you could help? And anyone have a cell phone?”

Silence. Then: “Sure, dude, no problem. Back at the hotel. We were just about done for the day anyway. Come with me. Name’s Phil, by the way.”

“Allen. Barry Allen. Thanks, Phil.”

Phil helped him over the dusty white van that was waiting for them, a bored guide was sitting in the driver’s seat reading a newspaper. After Phil Opened the van door, Barry collapsed on one of the seats, totally exhausted, and immediately went to sleep.

He was shaken awake by Phil a few hours later. “Dude, we’re here.” Again Phil helped him out of the van and into the lobby of the hotel. It was a little rundown and threadbare, but it was serviceable. Thankfully Phil’s room was on the ground floor. Once inside, Barry collapsed on a bed, and again fell fast asleep.

League of Justice #2.2: “Conscience Does Make Cowards”

Isla Paraíso

“The air of paradise will stifle me till all I am is a shadow!” Diana was incensed. She had brought Hallie Jordan from the crash site to a luncheon in the meadow, and the matriarch had graciously agreed to let Hal return to the outside world, provided that she respect the secret of the island.

Another was chosen to escort Hal back to the shore and give her the rubber raft found in her jet and to point her in the direction of her fleet. Diana had wanted to be chosen. Diana had wanted to go all the way, to experience the entire world.

“Absolutely not! The Sisters of Paradise are exiles from the world. Out there is evil and death and the scrabbling of mad beasts. Here is civility and peace. You will not go!”

“Why is this the way of us?”

“In our good conscience, we cannot allow our gifts and abilities and our purity of soul be tainted by those beyond. The Sisters of Paradise seek true tranquility, and that is only possible in sequester.”

“Our conscience will make cowards of us all! If we are so much better than everyone out there, then we should be leading them! We should be helping them make themselves better! There is no superiority when it is hoarded, there is only selfishness and greed!”

“You are a foolish, small girl to not understand what is our purpose. You should meditate and think upon your sins. Return with a pure heart to ask forgiveness.”

With that, the interview with the Matriarch was over. And Diana’s decision was made. There would be no turning back. In the history of Paradise Island not a single woman had ever left. There was a hill, near the cliffs, were the sisters buried their own, year after year, and set an ornately carved statue over their grave. No statue would look over Diana’s grave. She knew not where her bones would crumble to dust, but it would not be here.

Diana returned to her dwelling, a small hut built into a tree. She gathered there her most precious possessions, really all she owned that was unique to her. She collected two bracers of an unknown metal. Long ago a meteor had crashed down upon the island. It was mostly rock, but at its core was a metal like none the Sisters had encountered. Her mother, a smith, had shaped it into beautiful bracers, covering from wrist to elbow. To date they had proven impenetrable and unscratchable. When her mother had died in an unfortunate accident, they passed to Diana. Her mother had been of the ruling line, third in line to be Matriarch. As such, she wore a singlet in honor of her office. That, too, had become Diana’s. She packed that, after all, she was a princess, even if it was of a people she was about to leave. An exiled princess…it had a melancholy ring to it. Next Diana grabbed a length of rope, more a whip than lasso. It was woven of high tensile cord, yet soft to the touch. It coiled tightly and resisted water and heat. Diana was an apprentice weaver and the rope was her graduation project. All that remained to make her a master of the craft was time and practice. Practice she doubted she would now get.

Diana dressed. She pulled on tall boots, tight breeches, a red corset, and over all a snug cloak of deep blue. Her crow black hair she pulled back into a tight braid. Beneath her sleeves her corsets gripped her arms. At her side her whip hung, waiting for action. Diana was ready, a woman seeking the wonders of a world beyond.

Before she left, she climbed to the top of the cliffs, and looked out over Paradise Island. She never intended to return, and wished to bid it farewell. Once there, she breathed deep of the island air. It was full of ocean, tinged with the earthiness of deep jungle, and the tantalizing fragrance of a thousand island flowers. She would miss her home, but she knew she must leave. Diana’s destiny was beyond the shores and shield, beyond the trees and tribal rules. Diana’s destiny was somewhere out there, in the wide world beyond.

Quite unintentionally, Diana found herself chanting a soft song of farewell:

Paradise, my paradise
I will see you no more
Paradise, my paradise
Sleep now and forever more
I will see you again, once upon a dream
I will walk your paths, bathe in a stream
I will run and drink your wind
To you my soul I will send
When I die, greet her warmly
Shelter her from the world’s storms
Paradise, my paradise
Remember me

Tears falling, she ran across the tops of the cliffs to a waterfall. Taking a single large, last stride, she leaped, into the empty air, down down down with the falling of the water, throwing her life to the fates. She crashed, splashed down into a deep blue pool at one end of a lagoon that led to sea. Breathing deep, once she reached the top of the water, she dove down again. Stoking hard, she swam out of the lagoon and into the ocean. It was cold and crisp and blue.

After about half an hour of swimming she spotted a yellow raft, with a single small figure off in the distance. Almost there. Diana’s freedom bobbed on the waves, guided by a female hand. Diana drew comfort from that, the fact that she was swimming from a mother’s embrace into the embrace of one that felt a sister to her, though they barely knew each other. A smile stole across Diana’s face, and she kicked harder. One last dive beneath the waves and she would be there.

Bursting forth from the water, she saw she startled Hal Jordan.

“What the hell?”

“Hal. It’s me, Diana. Can I come with you? I seek asylum in the United States of America. I can no longer stay in Paradise. I need to see the outside world. I need to walk it. Please, can I come with you?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure. Though I don’t know how I will explain you to my commanding officer. But yeah, come aboard, sailor.”

Hal threw a mock salute and reached down to help pull Diana from the sea.

Diana brushed water from her face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”

Her smile refused to fade. Everything now was new. Behind her the island had vanished into the night behind the Sisters’ shield, but Diana did not see it. She was looking ahead to the future. Grabbing a paddle, she helped guide the small craft across the ocean depths.

League of Justice #2.1: “Fly to Others”

An Unknown Island

Is everyone on this island female? I thought. Not that that is a bad thing, as I happen to prefer the company of women casually and sexually, but this is a little bizarre. Reminds me of some planet that Captain Kirk would visit: the Carefully Hygienic, Patently Beautiful, Stunningly Sixties Girl Planet. Ha. I crack myself up.

So, to recap, I was on a routine scouting mission testing a new type of combat jet aircraft, scouting nothing but what was supposed to be Atlantic Ocean when I hit something I couldn’t see, encountered a shit load of turbulence, and crash landed on a beach. And was found by a gorgeous woman who calls herself Diana. How’s that for a day in the life of a test pilot?

Apparently, somehow, this entire island is shielded which makes it invisible. No, don’t ask me, I don’t know how. It seems impossible, but then neither I nor the advanced sensors in the jet noticed the island I crashed into until most of my plane was crumpled, flaming metal.

Anyway, Diana is taking me to her people, I guess, who apparently are all women from what she is telling me. At least she promises food. Nothing makes a combat aviator hungry like combat aviation.

We finally get to a clearing, and it is clear they are shielding me from their society as they have laid out a picnic and I am told that a matriarch will come to see me. Yeah, don’t take the tiny outsider to your secret city on your invisible island. That’d be too much. I guess I really shouldn’t be so snarky. It isn’t like a castaway would get a tour of the bridge or the ops centre on the U.S.S. Enterprise if they were picked up lost at sea.

So, the food is good. Some sort of fire roasted animal, coconut and a few other fruits I can identify, plus a few I can’t. There are a few other women here, but none have said anything beyond introducing themselves. My god, are they beautiful. I would sleep with any of them at the drop of some panties and thank them for the privilege. No wonder they keep this island hidden. Every male and lesbian on the planet would be on their shores within minutes as soon as the word got out.

Sorry, I really must focus. Especially since the Matriarch is coming. And here she is. She is older than the rest, which makes sense. She welcomes me to the island, which is apparently called Isla Paraíso, or Paradise Island. I catch the eye of a particularly cute girl. Paradise Island, indeed – FOCUS, Hal. Focus! I am an honored guest, but will not be permitted to stay. I will be taken to the shore and sent off the island. No mention right now as of how, seeing as my jet is a burnt hulk. They will have someone go with me. Huh, at that, Diana perked up (heh- dammit, Hallie Jordan. Focus!). I bet she asks to go with me. She does and is denied. She looks super pissed. I wonder why. Oh well. They are clearing up lunch. I guess this is it. Another woman is introduced to me, Nepherie. Hello Nepherie. She is cold and austere and a pretty hot blonde. Oh, I give up. These girls are wearing nothing but white billowy robes. How am I not supposed to notice?

Anyway, ice princess takes me back through the jungle and to the coastline. Ah. Now I see how they want me to get home: my escape raft. How fortunate they recovered it from the wreckage, which I notice has mysteriously disappeared. All that remains of my unfortunate accident is a line of scorched earth. I’m obviously not going to be able to report the location of the island without my flight recorder. I guess I will have to report the jet lost at sea after engine failure or something.

Evidently these people know where the battle group is. Nice. Ice princess is giving me bearings to head to once I am at sea and away from the island. Well, nothing for it. Ice Princess wades out past the breakers to get me to calmer ocean, swimming the last part of the way. That was nice of her. She then dives beneath the water and I never see her again. I shrug. Her loss. I remove a plastic paddle from its straps and start paddling. This is going to take forever. Suddenly, the emergency beacon in my flight suit starts beeping. Oh, that will definitely help. I thought it was broken. I turn around and am shocked to no longer be able to see the island. I apparently just passed beyond their electronic frontier. Invisible islands. What will they think of next?

Still I keep paddling. No sense in sitting here idle. Besides, night is falling and the wind is picking up. It’s getting cold out here. I wish the island beauties had given me a blanket or something.

Something erupts from the water behind my raft. I turn expecting a dolphin or a shark or something. Instead, it is Diana. What the hell?

She is asking for asylum in the United States of America. A defector? From paradise? She is talking about how she feels trapped and wants to experience life outside the island. I guess that makes sense. I have no idea what I am going to tell my commanding officer about how I crashed into the ocean and somehow still managed to pick up a date, but I am sure with Diana’s help I can come up with something that sounds plausible. I haven’t decided if I will tell them about the invisible island or not. I wasn’t exactly told not to, but the matriarch did express a wish to remain hidden. Diana is telling me she’ll handle that. Oh good. I feel so much better.

At least she can help paddle. We strike our paddles into the water, and push towards the U.S. NAVY.

What a weird day.

League of Justice #2.0: “No Traveler Returns”

United Arab Emirates

Bruce Wayne stood and stared out of the window of his penthouse in the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world. He was in Dubai for the annual Wayne Family Retreat, capital letters the way Alfred pronounced it, that his butler arranged for him every summer in the hiatus between school years. It was a chance to leave the gritty, dark streets of Gotham behind and experience the world. He had been all over the world to all the top cities since he was five. In the early days, Alfred went with him. Since he turned thirteen, Alfred sent him alone.

“You don’t need me to guide you, Master Bruce, or to hold your hand,” the butler had said.

And so Bruce was alone in the United Arab Emirates. He was looking forward to seeing the city, experiencing the night life, maybe even making a few friends. As it turned out, he would do none of those things. Alfred had other plans.

In a former life, before growing old and seeking work as a butler, and before being hired by Patrick Wayne, Bruce’s grandfather, to look after the Wayne family, Alfred led…a different life.

Alfred Pennyworth went by a different name. He was a different man. He was a soldier of fortune, a revolutionary, a patriot, an outlaw, a criminal, a brawler, and a gentleman. He fought in Laos, the Congo, Bosnia, Russia, Burma, Columbia, the Falklands – almost anywhere there was a fight, good pay, and the promise of a good time. He chased outlaws, terrorists, thieves, bandits – anyone whom he was commissioned to chase.

One man he was continually tasked to apprehend and bring to justice was a man labeled a terrorist by most of the world’s governments, a man named Ra’s Al Ghul. In all his years and all his time, Alfred only got close to Ra’s al Ghul on three separate occasions. The first, he had him locked in the scope of a sniper rifle.

“I’ve got eyes on target. Preparing to fire.”

“Roger, Falcon One. Firing is ordered.”

In the fifteen seconds it took to relay the message to headquarters, squeeze the trigger, and for the bullet to commence its flight, another man walked in front Ra’s al Ghul. Before the unfortunate savior’s body hit the ground, Ra’s had disappeared.

It would be years before the second time that Alfred got close, this time as a prisoner. Alfred was ambushed in the middle of the Sahara Desert on a hunt for a local militia leader while scouting by himself. The ambushers turned out to be members of the Underground Society, Ra’s organization. Alfred spent three weeks being interrogated and tortured before he gave up the location of the rest of his outfit. Ra’s was so impressed by Alfred’s tenacity and resistance to the abuse that he let him go and disappeared into the desert.

The third time that Alfred met Ra’s al Ghul, was two weeks prior sending Bruce to Dubai. They met at Wayne Manor, just outside of Gotham City.

“Welcome, honored guest.” Alfred bowed.

“I am welcomed.” Ra’s dipped his head in return of the bow. “Why have you summoned me here? Not to finally collect on my bounty, I presume?”

“No. I request a favor.”

“Interesting. Continue.”

“My ward, Bruce Wayne, has had a…difficult life. Because of this, he feels a yearning to fight injustice. He has tried to train himself to take on the injustice he sees, but he is unrefined, reckless, and lacking in formal training. I would ask you to give him the skills he needs.”

“Why me? Why a terrorist and an outlaw?”

“You once spared my life out of respect. I am hoping that man still exists. Bruce Wayne bears that same countenance. In another life, he could be your son, and I am too old, else I would train him myself. Besides, Bruce sees me as the doddering butler I have become. He knows nothing of the warrior I once was.”

“You are anything but doddering, my host.”

Alfred smiled. And with that, the interview was over. A sound outside the window drew Alfred’s momentary attention and Ra’s al Ghul vanished.

Bruce Wayne never did get to experience the nightlife of Dubai, at least, not until much later. That very day he was kidnapped from the Burj Khalifa. No one saw the kidnappers, no one knew anything. He simply vanished from his hotel room. His worthy butler flew to Dubai and demanded action by the authorities. He threw the weight of the Wayne name and fortune behind the manhunt, but for three months the effort was in vain. No trace of Bruce Wayne was ever found. Alfred returned to America and to Gotham to wait for the inevitable return of a casket instead of a man.

It was early November before Alfred saw Bruce again. By this time the act had become real and Alfred had despaired that Ra’s had actually killed Bruce.

It was a rainy, cold day in Gotham. Alfred was in the kitchen, brewing a bit of tea, when he heard the door to Wayne Manor open. He rushed out into the hall. There stood Bruce, but not Bruce. Alfred could see in his eyes, on his face, that a change had come. The wild, angry boy that left for the desert had returned a cold, furious man, molded and shaped.

Batman spoke.

“Hello, Alfred. Sorry I’ve been gone so long. You should probably call off the search now. I was…delayed. But I had a great vacation, thanks.”

Alfred smiled at Bruce’s wry humor.

“Master Bruce…I’m so glad you’re safe. Your father would never have forgiven me for failing to protect his son.”

Bruce smiled.

“I’m back and I’m fine, Alfred. I’ll tell you about it sometime. In the meantime, is there anything to eat? I’m rather hungry.”

Behind Bruce Wayne, Batman simmered, waiting to be unleashed. Ra’s al Ghul had trained him well.

League of Justice #1.9: “His Quietus Make”

Central City, Missouri

“Well, as far as I can tell, nothing is wrong with your vision. Perfect 20/20. As to why your vision suddenly got better and why your eyes changed color, I’m really sorry, but I can’t say.”

“Thanks, doc. I’m glad to know nothing’s wrong at any rate.”

“Well, there I can say: you are just fine.”

Barry Allen exited the ophthalmologist’s office reassured but still uneasy. It had been more than a week since his lightning accident, and he still didn’t have answers. And it wasn’t just his vision or his eye color that had changed. He was thinking quicker, moving quicker, everything about his life seemed faster somehow. And he couldn’t explain it. The best possible solution sounded like something out of a comic book: lightning combined with random chemicals, and charged heavy water mutated his cells. While such events weren’t unprecedented, usually death followed such mutations. As a rule, random mutations that were not evolutionarily based tended to be unhelpful. Cancer was a mutation. So were most genetic disorders. Mutation of things in the human body was usually a recipe for disaster. Somehow, Barry’s mutation was beneficial. Somehow, the lightning, the nature of the chemicals and his groundbreaking heavy water formula induced a quickening in Barry’s cells. He had noticed his metabolism was also getting faster. It was harder to get drunk, he was eating twice as much as normal and had lost extra fat around the edges.

Without a solid explanation and with a test group of exactly one, the only thing to do was to keep careful notes and go about his business. And business today was LexCorp. Lex Luthor’s mega-billion dollar corporation had research divisions into everything, and today’s research was heavy water. The experiment, despite the lightning, was still a success and Barry still had to present his results.

The LexCorp building was an smallish skyscraper, modest by Lex Luthor’s standards. The L-shaped Zephrymore Building in Metropolis that was world headquarters for LexCorp was head and top floors above all others, and would remain that way as Lex paid for a law to keep any other new construction shorter than a certain height. Barry shook his head and entered the lobby. How Lex built his buildings didn’t concern him as long as some subsidiary of Lex’s company paid for his research.

He walked up to the girl in the lobby, a Miss Lana Lang by her name tag.

“Hello, I am here for a briefing. Name’s Barry. Barry Allen.”

“Hello Mr. Allen. They are expecting you. Come with me.”

She led him to an-all glass elevator and up to a top floor. Off the elevator there was a glass walled room with a fantastic view of Central City. Also, there was a group of white coated scientists waiting around a conference table. Barry breathed deep. Lana noticed and flashed him a smile.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Half an hour later, Barry was unconscious.

An hour later…

Barry squinted into a super bright light. He couldn’t see anything else. He couldn’t hear much either. He tasted blood in his mouth and his head throbbed.

“Hello? What’s going on?”

Not expecting a reply, he was shocked to hear a kindly voice. It was being transmitted over some sort of communication system. More than that, Barry couldn’t tell.

“Hello, Mr. Allen. My name is Lex Luthor. I apologize for your treatment, but certain measures must be taken.”

“Wha..What is going on, sir? Didn’t you like my presentation on heavy water?”

Lex chuckled.

“It isn’t that, Mr. Allen. It is your remarkable accident that I am interested in. I read all about in the Central City Herald. Your girlfriend is such a…passionate…reporter when it comes to you.”

“You leave her alone!” Barry shouted, struggling against his restraints.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Allen. I have absolutely no interest in Ms. West, I assure you. I want you and your…abilities.”

“What? I can think fast, see better, and move quickly. You want that?”

“Of course, Mr. Allen. As your mind works quicker I am sure you can apply your abilities to say, a super soldier, or perhaps, an enhanced scientist, much like yourself, able to work much quicker towards a solution. Really, the possibilities are endless, and the applications limitless for a creature of enhanced speed. And to think, all this from a flash of lightning.”

“But I don’t know how it happened! I don’t understand it.”

“Oh, neither do I. But I do employ the best scientists in the world. Coupled with your research into your heavy water project and just a little cooperation, I am sure we will have the answer soon enough.”

“I’ll never help you!”

“Oh, but my dear Mr. Allen, you don’t have to, not willingly anyway. While you were unconscious my men took samples of your blood and tissues. We will keep you for observation and experimentation, of course. Your blood is only the beginning. And once we have our answers, we will let you go.”

Barry thought that unlikely.

“I think that is unlikely. I know who you are and I am not afraid to press charges.”

Again, Lex chuckled.

“Oh, but Mr. Allen. You are mistaken. It isn’t Lex Luthor who kidnapped you, not provably anyway. My voice can be faked, even my image, should you actually see me. No one you interact with will be identifiable. We are quite safe from your deluded ravings. Besides, I have a magnificent legal department. Last I heard you were quite penniless. Crime pays very well, Mr. Allen, and criminal lawyers are always worth the expense. No one cares about morality or even legality any more. The world is an economic world, and I have the only currency that matters: currency. Now, good night, Mr. Allen. You have a busy day ahead of you.”

With that, the lights snapped out, leaving Barry Allen in total darkness. He struggled, but uselessly.

“Well. This was an unexpected outcome of the briefing. And my mom wanted me to become a doctor.”

Quipping to the dark was meant to make it less threatening. It didn’t work.