This story belongs to Eric Holingsworth and i am posting it with his expressed permission.
1 Arella
By Eric H
"You don't choose the life, the life chooses you…"
Bruce Wayne
June 15th, 2041
Phase 1: Reconnoiter- The original Batman has retired (obviously) and passed the cowl to a young protégé. Now since the current Batman is familiar with the youth gangs, he must be young enough to attend the local High School. So, first order of business is to identify him.
0625 hours, Hamilton Hill High School
Everywhere Arella turned, oddly dressed adolescents aimlessly milled about talking trivialities while digital bulletin boards posted on the gray modular walls pummeled her with flashy announcements regarding exams, upcoming school events and personal health issues. Honestly though? The girl was enjoying the chaos of colors and sounds. After a childhood spent in the rustic bosom of Kansas, Gotham was a realization of dreams.
"To be honest Arella I was a bit dubious on allowing you to transfer this late in the school year. But looking at your remarkable aptitude scores…"
"I do pride myself on my academics."
"Putting it mildly. 'Principal Nakamura chuckled while double checking a print out of her records' Mathematics, English and Science: all exceptional."
"Thank you sir."
"It says here you are fluent in three languages?"
"Yes sir: Latin, Atlantean and Tamaranian."
"Very exotic"
"Ma encouraged me to broaden my horizons."
"Well I wish all our students had such attentive mothers like yours. 'He sighed sadly' It would certainly make my job easier."
She chuckled to herself. HER mother? Seriously doubtful unless they wanted a school full of depressed over-achieving empaths. Discipline problems would be non existent but the Glee Club? A spooky thought.
They arrived at the still empty classroom.
"Well here ya are. 'He said while handing her a slip of paper with a printed itinerary of her class schedule' Now if you have any questions or problems, my door is always open."
"Thank you sir." She said taking the slip
As he walked away, Arella reached out with her senses and took a quick survey of his mind. Of course it was unlikely he would be her target but Ma did advise her to be thorough. Hmm…shock that someone actually called him sir. Otherwise, he was not her quarry.
Instead of a blackboard, the front classroom wall was dominated by a blank view screen. Apparently individual desks were extinct too as the room was organized by rows of work stations. All the stations had their own keyboards and monitors built into the desk tops. This was going to take some getting used to.
She climbed the stairway dividing the rows. The station monitors displayed the name of their assigned occupants. Aha! Hers was the second row from the back. This will give her an excellent vantage point to scan the entering students.
Arella smoothed the back of her pleated skirt against her thighs and settled in the hard gray plastic seat. According to the clock on her monitor there were a couple of minutes until first bell. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind. Now maybe all those years of pointless meditation will actually come in handy. It would take all of her mental discipline to prevent from being overwhelmed.
"Azarath, Metreon, Zinthos…" She silently chanted to herself
Amazing how the girl found those words so comforting. Maybe it was why her mother repeated them all the time. The screeching school bell shook the girl out of her trance. Arella took a deep breath and steeled herself.
"Find your center" She whispered while pushing the round-framed glasses back up her nose.
Groggy students began filing in. And right on cue, the boys focused squarely on her. Arella silently cursed herself for not dressing more conservatively- this was going to be tricky. In spite of their percolating hormones she opened her mind.
"Hmm, nice titties" One blond boy thought
"Sweet rack" A dark-skinned one in dreadlocks considered
One chubby, pimply-faced boy saw her and smiled.
"Nice shirt"
Nice shirt? That's odd.
A group of noisily chattering girls sashayed in. A blond, short-haired girl dressed in a butt-hugging black mini-skirt focused on her. Instead of thoughts, Arella detected a cat-like territorial growling. Obviously this was "The Group" Ma had referred to and the blond was the "Alpha". An attractive long raven-haired member of the girl squad scanned the room.
"Terry better not be late again otherwise Missus Johnson will blow a gasket."
A muscular red-headed boy clad in a letter-man jacket sauntered in and looked out over the classroom.
"Okay everyone: get a load of me."
A jock obviously: self-centered and pompous. While walking by Arella, he gave her an once-over with his leering eyes and winked. This may all be an act though. He will be filed in the "maybe" pile.
As they awaited the last bell, the student's eyes and minds focused squarely on her. She cringed as the cacophony of voices screamed in her head.
"Nice tits"
"Where did she dig up that outfit? It's TOTALLY retro."
"Get a load of those glasses."
"She's going to ruin the grade curve, I know it!"
"Nice shirt"
Arella closed her mind and the chaos faded away. Geez these people are scatter-brained, so unlike her mother whose mind she could set her watch by.
All the stations were now filled save for the one right in front of her. The bell rang again, ending the transition period. Okay, maybe her target was not here but she had five more periods to peruse.
An older woman with her prematurely gray hair pulled back in a tight bun appeared. She slapped a button next to the doorway and the door slid shut with an ominous clang.
"Before we…"
THUD!
They all turned to see a boy's stressed face smashed against the door's small rectangular glass portal. The teacher sighed sadly and pressed the button again, opening the door. A haggard dark haired male in a brown jacket and jeans stumbled into the room. Instead of laughing, the class' reaction was actually rather blasé. This must happen a lot.
"So Mister McGinnis, how many times does this make?"
"Sorry."
"Uh-huh"
While the newcomer collapsed into his seat, Arella game him a quick scan.
"Bruce, you creep."
Arella perked. Bruce? Mom mentioned a Bruce in her briefing. She read him a bit longer.
"No wonder Robin quit"
Bingo! Geez that was easy. So this was the new Batman eh? A bit of a departure from the dashing Dark Knight of her mother's day. Still, she supposed the caped crusader had to start somewhere.
"As I was saying: before we begin, we have a new student. Where are you from Arella?"
All the eyes, with the exception of the panting newcomer's, turned to her.
"Smallville Kansas Ma'am"
The classroom tittered.
"Where?" A voice from behind sarcastically guffawed
It was coming from the jock. She turned to the joker and looked straight into his eyes, making his smile fade. One of the few things Arella inherited from her mother was a thin-skin when it comes to teasing. Oh if they weren't in class! But guerilla revenge was so much more satisfying. They will settle accounts later.
"Small-ville Kan-sas" She carefully pronunciated
When their eyes met, a name emerged from the ether. This Clorbag was named Nelson. She moved him from her "maybe" pile to the "make an example of" one. The girl could feel Terry's irritation at Nelson's voice. Apparently she was not the only one who had a dislike of him.
"And what do you think of Gotham so far?" Their teacher asked
"Very…metropolitan." Arella improvised
"Well put." She agreed while beginning the days Trigonometry lesson
Later…
Lunch time.
When Arella and her mother went to pick up their milking cow, they visited a sprawling stockyard. She was just a toddler at the time but could vividly remember the great moving mass of smelly bovines being herded into the feeding pens. Oddly, Hamilton High's lunch program brought around a screaming case of déjà vu.
Students waited in line with their trays as spoonfuls of slop were slapped into its corresponding space. It was soon her turn and the portly lunch lady scooped what resembled a hockey puck slathered in excremental brown goo.
"Oh boy. 'A girl ahead of her giggled' Salisbury Steak."
Is that what this was? Whatever. Next came helpings of bright canary-yellow corn and prefabricated Tater Tots. At the end of the food line was a shelf stocked with servings of desserts on small plastic plates and sealed cartons of fruit juice and milk. Well, maybe this wasn't a complete loss. She chose a brick of green jello and a small cardboard carton of moo juice and placed them on her tray, carefully avoiding the equally gelatinous brown gravy. It must be why they have a giant screen television in the cafeteria- to keep their minds off the nasty food.
With tray in hand, she looked out over the lunchroom. The student body had been split into different tightly packed groups (or "cliques" as her mother explained). The chatty and giggling girl squad had usurped one table while grunting jocks in matching letterman jackets had annexed another. One table towards the rear was only sparsely populated with some rather down-trodden looking boys and girls. This must be the "reject" table. Good a choice as any she supposed. She slid onto the bench. The denizens gave her a once over and promptly returned to their feelings of inadequacy.
Picking at the ersatz steak, the memory of their cow's case of the explosive dropsy popped in her head. Well that killed her appetite. She pushed her tray away.
A crash and thud caught the room's attention. She turned to see the chubby boy from first period splayed out on the floor, his tray's contents spattered on the scuffed white tile. He had apparently been walking by the jocks table when Nelson stuck his leg out and tripped him. The jocks laughed at the unfortunates embarrassing circumstances.
"Clumsy." Nelson laughed
Oh this wasn't going to stand. Arella hated bullies but took great joy in humiliating them. Before transferring here, she had spent a year at Smallville High. And in that time many a bully received their comeuppance before her unique talents. So much in fact, their principal actually had the water tested to find out what the hell was going on with their student body.
"Shame on you Nelson….shame on you." She whispered
Nelson's laughter at the prone and embarrassed humanity heaped at his feet faded, replaced by tears welling in his eyes. His comrades eyed their sniffling leader wiping his nose with his arm.
"What are you staring at? 'Nelson bawled' Quit staring at me."
His victim stood. He saw the jock's imposed sadness and patted him on the shoulder.
"Its okay…I'm sure you didn't mean it."
"Get away from me twip." He sobbed
Much later…
Gym class.
While the boys practiced wrestling techniques in the squared circle on the gym floor, the girls were off to the side doing boring calisthenics. Shame. After heaving bales of hay and wayward cows all her life, body slamming and suplexes would have been an interesting notion.
"Jumping Jacks." Their coach (nicknamed "Butch" by Arella's compatriots) barked
The class moaned with dread.
"One and two…one and two" She bellowed as the girls jumped and clapped in unison
A roar of hoots and hollers erupted from the ring. Immediately the girls left their places, leaving Arella behind. Their instructor just bowed her head in defeat.
"Uh Ma'am?"
"Go ahead." Butch dismissed
Arella joined the group by the ring. Apparently two of the boys were engaged in a wrestling grudge match. The smartass jock Nelson was tangling with Terry.
"Nelson! Nelson!" The boys chanted
Ma was right: men are just a bunch of kids. Why didn't they just whip it out and settle the argument?
"Oh no" Dana, the raven-haired girl moaned
Unlike the other denizens of the "In Crowd", Dana seemed much more personable. Terry has excellent taste in women and she shared great affection for him.
"What's going on?" Arella asked
"Oh Nelson must have called him a twip again."
That's a bad thing? Arella was so behind when it came to Gotham slang. She would have to just have to chalk it up as an insult. Personally the girl preferred Tamaranian insults; at least they sound half-way sophisticated and while the victim is looking for a dictionary, the perpetrator can flee.
"Five creds on Nelson." Chelsea, the blond, girl squad alpha smiled
"You're on." Dana smiled
The two combatants carefully circled each other, waiting the right opportunity to pounce. Arella found it satisfying that she shared Terry's irritation at that dope. And since she still owed Nelson for the incidents in first period, maybe she should put in her two cents?
She focused on the redhead and reached out with her mind. So what would it be? Happy? Sad? Fear? Just for a change of pace, let's make him happy.
"You are very happy Nelson….very, very happy." Arella whispered
In the ring…
"Nelson! Nelson!" The crowd chanted in unison
"You are SO going down McGinnis."
"Bring it Dreg." Terry growled
Nelson presently began to chuckle, taking Terry off-guard.
His chuckling increased in tempo, becoming raucous, uncontrollable laughing. Nelson's face blushed and he fell to his knees.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I….can't…stop." He managed through a beet-red face of tears
Terry just stood and looked around confused. Talk about an anti-climax.
"Dude, I think he's flipped." An onlooker gasped
"Yeah, game over." Another agreed
The disappointed crowd dispersed, leaving the hysterical Nelson and befuddled Terry behind. He turned to see Dana and a satisfied Arella watching.
"What happened?" Dana asked
"Dunno. 'Terry shrugged while watching Nelson doubled over on the ground and giggling like a loon' Too many Z Balls to the head I guess."
Arella released Nelson and his giggles faded to choking gasps.
"Or maybe all his bad karma finally caught up with him." Arella added with a devilish smile.
He ought to consider himself lucky. Next time Nelson decides to test her he's going to end up with wet undies.
Phase 2: Contact. According to news reports, exactly two thirds of Batman's crime busting activities is centered on a street gang known as the Jokerz. It stands to reason that if she were to monitor them, the caped crusader would eventually appear. Do not, repeat DO NOT reveal yourself to either party.
That afternoon, at the Gotham Imperial Arms Motel…
Arella slammed the door of her motel room and braced her body against it. Christ that was more than enough for one day. If one more male thought about her breasts, butt or legs, she was going to just strip and give them all a big steamy gawk.
It was an odd contrast being a female empath. On one hand you're on the receiving end of a males appraising gaze. But being an empath, you can somewhat understand their primitive urges. A majority of the time they have no idea they're doing it. Bully for them, seriously sucky for her.
Her room was pretty shabby as compared to the modular and modern halls of Hamilton High. The concrete walls were covered with all manner of odd stains and the furniture looked to have been salvaged from the dump. No rats or roaches though; they probably preferred the upper scale hotels downtown. She could have easily arranged a room at the local youth hostel but having room mates would have complicated things.
She took off her glasses and set them on the bureau top. Actually the specs were just plain uncorrected glass lenses. They pinched her nose but added to the disguise.
Throwing herself on the squeaky bed, she kicked off her white sneakers and reveled in the silence and solitude.
Her quarry had been identified. Now came the tricky part.
She slid off her bed and looked out her room window. Still too light to go out just yet. Arella pulled apart the Velcro strap securing the waist of her skirt and let it slip down her legs to the floor. Not taking her eyes off the window, she unbuttoned her white blouse, pulled it off and tossed it on the bed.
The noise coming from the city beyond seemed to beckon to her. Maybe it was time to let Nil out? Yeah it was early still but some Darklight practice would do her good. There was no room for errors here: she was on the twentieth floor with no piles of hay to land in.
Arella closed her eyes, took deep measured breaths and reached deep inward. Her sharp practiced mind found another…cold and calculating, without emotion. The color of her skin drained away, turning it a stone gray.
"That is better" She droned
The day Nil first emerged was forever etched in her mind. It was five days after her thirteenth birthday when Ma had burned a loaf of bread in the oven. Traditionally Arella did all the cooking but that day her mother decided to give it a go. Well sad to say, the helpless bread paid the ultimate price.
As Ma tossed the smoldering wreckage into the sink, the anger erupted from her body like a raging forest fire. It was rare Ma lost her temper and when she did, real, REAL bad things happened. But this time was different. Instead of running for cover, Arella instinctively left her seat at the table and approached. Instead of fearing Ma's anger, she wanted it…with every fiber of her being.
In such a deep trance she was, the girl hadn't noticed the color draining from her skin or her emotions fading away. Ma turned to see what remained of her daughter lurching towards her with hands outstretched.
But instead of screaming or panicking, Ma stood her ground. She cupped its cold gray cheeks and looked straight into it's forest green eyes. Her mother wasn't scared but worried, as if she had been expecting this.
"What is your name?" Ma asked carefully
Her cold voided mind thought back to all their years of meditation. Her mind was to contain nothing…Nil.
"Nil" It responded
"What do you feel?" She asked carefully
"Nothing…I feel…empty."
Ma took her small gray hands and gently fed the anger to her. It satisfied Nil, the desire to feed evaporated.
"You are not a monster 'Ma assured her' this is just a part of what you are. It is nothing to fear."
Arella came to embrace Nil, like an Armadillos suit of armor or Hedgehogs spines. When troubles arose or she needed support, there was Nil to protect her. Depression or a case of the blues? Nil cured it. It was especially handy when there were chores to be done. A stubborn wayward cow couldn't protest too much when a girl a tenth its weight can lift it like a Chihuahua. And hauling bales of hay? Easy peasy. Truly, it was a gift.
Nil looked upon itself in the cracked dresser mirror. She reached out its bare left arm and allowed the viscous black energies to flow from the palm of her hand. It was an extension of her body, like flexing a muscle. She willed the light swallowing ebony to cover her arms up to the shoulders. Nil concentrated and…
SLINK, SLINK, SLINK
Ebony spikes sprouted out of her arm. Taking the paper copy of her school schedule, she ran it along her spike studded arm and easily shredded it. Nil released the projections and the black energies disappeared with a puff, revealing the gray skin underneath. The projections are as solid as she desired.
The black gathered on her back and stretched outward, becoming a framework of long black bones. So wide they were, the sharp tips nearly touched either wall. A thin, flexible membrane of black filled the gaps between the bones, creating bat wings. These were preferable for gliding. If long distances or speed was an issue, the bird wings would be more appropriate. It took years of practice and many unsuccessful dives off the barn roof to get them just right.
Nil flapped the wings, making her long brunette hair billow. They fell still and she allowed them to dissolve away. That would be enough for now lest she need to feed again. She turned and looked out the window. The sun was nearly down, turning the sky a dark purple.
It was time.
She pulled open the bottom drawer of her dresser and produced a pair of black slacks, steel-tipped boots with buckles, matching belt and black half shirt. It took a hell of a lot of sneaking around to gather these. If by some quirk Nil was identified, she didn't need some store owner fingering her. She might have decided on brighter colors but it just didn't seem appropriate. Besides: in Gotham, black was traditional.
Nil slipped on the black half shirt. The chest was adorned with the white visage of a crow with wings outstretched. Arella had painted it herself. It was either that or a Bat and the latter was taken. Pulling on the pants, she secured them around her miniscule waist with the belt. Arella actually preferred trousers but needed to fit in better with the Gotham student body.
Sitting on the bed she pulled on the boots and tightened the buckles. Ah there was nothing like the feel of a good pair of substantial boots. Of course Nil couldn't appreciate them but Arella sure did when she picked them out. Was it any wonder why Superman never wore Clam Diggers or Mukluks?
She gathered her long brunette hair and secured it in back with a black Srunci. Now for the crowning touch: in honor of her crime-fighting roots. Taking a small pen shaped device from the dressers top drawer, she touched the blue end to her pony tail. Miraculously, her hair color shifted from dark brown to blue. It was the biggest fad in Gotham that year: color changing hair dye. It allowed the kids to make their hair odd colors without pissing off their parents.
Nil returned to the window. The sky outside was now dark, lightened by a rainbow of flashing neon and digital signs. She pressed a small red button on the bottom of the window frame and it obediently slid open.
A vast mountain range of monolithic buildings loomed before her and the sounds of a million conversations and cars flooded her gray ears. Her entire being, both Arella and Nil, wanted to be here.
She climbed out through the window and onto the ledge.
According to news reports the Jokerz frequented the west end. Hopefully Batman would be out tonight. Black bat wings sprouted from her back again and spread wide, catching the wind. Taking another second to double check her bearings, she jumped off the edge and glided away.
This felt natural….destined.
Nil managed a smile.
Phase 3: Infiltration. Once Batman had been identified and found, follow him home. It is common knowledge that the original Caped Crusader had a "Bat Cave" and it stands to reason the current Batman is using the same one.
Later…
Gotham was an entirely different place at night. During the day it was a bustling metropolis of sky-reaching towers teaming with people going about their business and living their lives. But when the sun goes down, it's as if the city flips over and all the dark creatures from below emerge. It's in this necropolis of darkened monoliths and souls where Batman lives. To find him, one must be dark as well. And what could be more so than a Spirit Drinker?
Nil landed on the roof of an office building, folded the wings tight to her back and paused. Not to rest but to take in the sight of its rooftop billboard. The thing was nearly twice as tall as the barn back home and three times as wide. The looping message on its immense surface depicted an Asian woman drinking from a pop can and smiling at the city beyond. They didn't have a television back home as their nights were spent meditating or reading. But indeed Nil found the spectacle rather mesmerizing not to mention persuasive. She would have to sample some of this…Diet Mango Splunky
Shaking off her daze, Nil trotted around the billboard to the other side of the roof and hopped up on the ledge. She was getting close. The buildings here were more ramshackle and the minds of the pedestrians a bit more devious. Some were drunk or high while others were just up to no good.
Scanning the dark street far below, her ears caught the sound of an out of tune Nickelodeon. She followed the sound to a battered antique ice cream truck puttering up the street. Nil was still pretty inexperienced on city life but knew enough to realize an Ice Cream truck out at this hour in this part of town was seriously out of place.
Her mind focused on the truck. The driver inside was looking for customers but not for frozen treats. Drugs perhaps? This might be just what she's looking for.
Hmm, two towering factory complexes ahead were flanking the street and creating a bit of a choke point. It would take too long to go around and flying between them could give her away to the truck driver.
Nil jumped off the ledge and silently followed the truck towards the gap. To clear this obstacle was going to be tricky. Darklights covered his hands and claws sprouted from her fingertips. She learned this maneuver while observing BB scale her cat tree.
Impacting with the tower wall, she dug her claws into the building's tough metal facade. Any normal person would have suffered nasty injuries doing that little stunt but then Nil was anything but normal. She peeked around the corner and watched the truck continue through the canyon far below. The driver was luckily still unaware of her.
Nil carefully inched her way around the corner and immediately sharp winds tore at her, nearly ripping her loose. Nil squeezed closer to the wall and continued on her way. She was much too close to fail now. The drivers stress level was starting to rise, his destination must be near.
She reached the far end and took in the sight. This must be what the local media referred to as "Old Town" or what remained of Gotham after the earthquake of twenty-six. All the ancient brick and mortar buildings were in various states of disrepair. There was an active debate raging on whether to turn the area into an out door museum or simply demolish it and expand the city.
Only a few of the ancient streetlights still functioned, casting a sputtering and dusky hue on the dilapidated hovels. From the street ahead Nil could sense young minds beginning to swarm in apparent anticipation of the truck.
Nil braced her feet against the building side and kicked free. Her wings caught the wind and she silently glided over the slum. It was here over sixty years ago where her father's odyssey began. Perhaps on one of these very streets he met Batman and his troubled life took a complete U-Turn.
The Ice Cream truck stopped midway through the street ahead. She swerved away and landed on a nearby roof, making the ancient roof creak with the impact. Any harder and she might have crashed right through. Squatting below the roof ledge, she watched the scene.
From the shadows surrounding the street, giggling adolescents in brightly colored outfits and clown make-up emerged. They ran up to the truck and began to dance gaily around it like kids around a maypole.
So these are the Jokerz? Ma had told her many stories about the criminal from the original Batman's time (it was popular fodder during especially dark nights or Halloween). To think kids would base their theme on the murderous psychotic was fascinating.
The Jokerz minds percolated with thoughts at the truck's arrival. And through the jumble of impressions, Nil could hear a name being constantly repeated: Giggles. Along with the name came an aura of fear. Was this Giggles their leader? Possibly. It would certainly fit their theme.
A familiar mind was approaching…it was Terry's. But unlike the harried youth she met at school, this one was entirely focused. Nil turned to see a sleek black and red hover car set down on a building by the scene. The canopy slid open and Batman climbed out. Gone were his gray tights and black cape and cowl. Instead, this version was clad entirely in black save for a red bat symbol on his chest. He climbed up on the ledge and silently watched the transaction too.
Nil could feel two separate minds at work. Apparently Terry was communicating with another, much older man.
Below…
"Trick or treat" A purple suited and green haired teen giggled
"Bring your allowance?" The driver asked.
The Joker handed him a stack of newly-pilfered green cash cards.
Taking the cards, the driver reached inside his pants pocket and produced a small hand held box. He pressed the devices only button and the side of the truck swung open, revealing orderly racks of assault rifles and bazookas.
The teenagers oohed and aahed at the sight. A pair of identical twin girls in matching clown face, white shorts, red tube tops and white caps cart wheeled over to the truck and gawked at the ordinance.
"Very pretty Dee Dee…" One of the twins cooed
"Santa got our letter Dee Dee" The other agreed
While the driver stepped back to count his money, the Jokerz began unloading the truck.
Above…
"Yeah it's an arms dealer alright 'Batman whispered' with enough firearms to level most of Gotham."
"Police are on their way. 'His invisible contact advised' Stop the transaction and find out what the weapons are for."
"If you insist."
A small form popped out of Batman's wrist and folded out into a red and black bat shaped boomerang. He tossed it at the van.
KER-THLANG
The Jokers and arms dealer turned to see the rapidly blinking boomerang lodged in the trucks cab door.
"RUN!" One screamed as the group scattered
In an explosion that shook the windows for blocks beyond, the truck and all its contents went up in an impressive combustion of flames and shrapnel. In the ensuing chaos, Batman dove off the roof, grabbed the driver by the collar and wrenched him off the street.
They landed on the ledge of a building across the street. Below an army of white patty wagons and Gotham police in black and white armor arrive and begin corralling up the Jokerz.
"What are the weapons for?" Batman calmly demanded
"Party favors? 'The dealer gasped' damned if I know."
Batman reached down, grabbed the dealer's ankle and dangled him over the side.
"What are they for?" He asked again, in the same calm monotone voice
"Dunno! 'He bawled' I was just told to drive up here and get the cash!"
"Who gave them to you?"
The dealer fell silent. Batman eased his grip on the leg and it slid a few more inches.
"Running out of leg."
"Please…they'll kill my kids."
"Galvanic responses are constant. 'Terry's invisible counsel advised' he's telling the truth."
Batman jumped off the roof and using the suits built-in boot jets gently settled on the street besides the gathered police cars. An older bespectacled woman stepped forward
"One arms dealer" He said dropping the urine soaked and drooling criminal who promptly collapsed to the crumbled asphalt in a trembling heap.
"Say anything before he passed out?" She asked, motioning her officers to take him away.
"Another lackey. He didn't know anything either."
"Figures. Any word on the street?"
"We're looking into it."
"Pick it up. That's the fifth load this month and we can only hold the Jokers for seventy-two hours."
Without another word she walked away to supervise the gang's round-up.
Back above…
After a lifetime of hearing stories of Batman's adventures, to actually see him at work was quite impressive. Now Nil could finally see what had her father so enamored. He was a living embodiment of the city, wreaking revenge on those daring to defile it. The old cape and cowled one was appropriate for the old Gotham but Terry fits in with the new.
She really should seize the opportunity and complete her mission but spared some seconds to survey the shackled punks being led into the patty wagons. Like fingerprints, all minds are different. The more Nil surveys, the easier they will be to identify later. Chances are she will deal with this bunch again.
"God my parents are gonna kill me"
"Goodbye allowance"
"Wonder if Juvy is serving Salisbury steak tonight."
"Seventy-two hours? I'm gonna miss the game!"
The last to be loaded were the twins. One was snarling at what transpired while the other…
Nil cocked her head. Odd. Instead of lamenting or fear, she detected feelings of sad desperation, a sense of being trapped. This reluctant Joker was named Deidre. Nil noted it for later consideration; she might me worth investigating.
Back at the Batcave…
Bruce turned from the massive mainframe computer and watched as the black and crimson vehicle sped in through the cave's side entrance and settled onto the suspended landing pad. Its canopy slid open and Batman climbed out. He pulled off his mask and joined Bruce at the computer
"Saw arms shipment 'Terry yawned' smeared same."
Bruce remained silent and just glared. Obviously something was amiss. The Doberman snoozing at his feet lifted his head and began to growl too. Bruce was always upset but what did he do to piss off Ace?
"What?" Terry begged
"You were followed."
Oh crap not again. God help him if it's another reporter.
"But I did a complete Bio scan while on approach."
Bruce hauled himself out of his seat and hobbled over to the pad. Terry and Ace followed.
"The scans are useless: she's intangible." He explained
"She?"
He tapped his cane on the hover cars thick armored hull.
"You can come out now…your infiltration skills are exceptional but your stealth leaves much to be desired."
A form emerged from the vehicles fuselage. Terry produced another Boomerang but Bruce motioned for him to stand down.
"If she were hostile, you would be dead already."
It was apparently a girl about Terry's age. She was dressed in all black clothing and her gray skinned face was frozen in a neutral, emotionless gaze. As she approached the pair, Ace growled and made to intercept her. Instead of running, Nil squatted down and cupped her hands on either side of its head and immediately put the dog at ease. Spirit Drinkers have a way with animals.
Hmm, most panic or run at the sight of her but Mister Wayne didn't even bat an eye. Had he been expecting her?
"Nil" Bruce acknowledged
She stood and faced the legend.
"Batman" She returned with respect
"Raven allowed you to leave?"
"She really had no choice; Arella can be quite headstrong as well."
"I really hate to interrupt but who the hell is this?" Terry interjected
"Arella Erickson, daughter of Raven and Will." Bruce explained
Didn't ring a bell but then the superhero culture is so cliquey. If Bruce didn't panic, he wouldn't either. Terry made a mental note to check the data base later.
Nil opened her mind and took it all in. Oh the history here! The caves parapets were filled with all manner of museum-type glass cases containing mementos of Batman's life time of adventures. Looming in the dark beyond was a full scale model Tyrannosaurus Rex, an equally imposing Joker playing card and three-story tall penny. Her mind boggled on what it must have took to get these in here.
She stepped over to a glass case holding a Ventriloquist Dummy dressed as a depression-era mobster complete with a miniature Tommy gun attached to its small hand. She carefully laid her hands lightly on either side of the case.
Visions and names flooded her head. This thing was no toy but actually the second half of a split personality. Referred to as "Scarface" by its owner, the pair was responsible for a rash of crimes in Gotham. Its career finally ended when in a fit of rage, Scarface killed its owner and unwittingly committed suicide. Nil got the impression that the doll's owner was an unwitting pawn of the split personality.
It wandered amongst the displays. She could spend her entire lifetime here learning all there was to learn. As she read, Bruce and Terry watched from afar.
"What's wrong with her?" Terry whispered
"Spirit Drinkers are powerful empaths." Bruce explained
"Oh yeah: that explains everything."
Well this could go on for weeks; Bruce had best intervene. He hobbled over to Nil who was scanning a ragged Scarecrow costume.
"Do you require wrist tattoos or can you summon Nil mentally?" He asked
Nil was too preoccupied to respond. She was reliving an incident at Gotham Coliseum when the Scarecrow held the spectators hostage with a single vial of fear toxin. His young ward Robin took part in this incident. Didn't Ma mention she worked with him at one time?
Turning away from the case, another exhibit caught her eye. Within a tall cylindrical exhibit hung a tattered and scorched black overcoat. Propped up at the foot of the coat lay a small length of hollow steel pipe wrapped in ancient brown leather. The aura the items emitted seemed to beckon to her. Nil placed her hands on the case. But this was different; it wasn't enough. She embraced the case with her arms and laid her cheek on it as well.
"Now what's wrong with her?"
"They belonged to her father."
Empty…
Empty…
All the feelings and thoughts it held mirrored her own. He was a cold skinned blank amongst a world of humans who feared him. But from this world of loneliness and isolation, Nil saw smiling faces. A green skinned boy with the unique ability to change into animals smiled at her and a ruby red haired girl with green within green eyes smiled as well. From these allies, another face emerged. Her face was gray as well save for a gem on her forehead. But their relationship went beyond friendship…they loved each other. It was her mother, back when she was Arella's age.
Ma had told her much about Aenoch but experiencing the world through his eyes put everything in perspective. If such things were possible, she would be weeping.
An old liver-spotted hand squeezed her shoulder and broke her concentration.
"Arella?"
She released the case and turned to them. Nil closed her eyes and the color rushed back to her skin. Her forest green eyes opened wide and she smiled warmly.
"Grandpa"
"Grandpa? 'Terry laughed' God I SO knew it! So who was it? Wonder Woman or Black Canary?"
Bruce turned to him with a stern look…sterner that usual. He immediately stood down.
"Shutting up sir."
He remained silent while looking down at her. His mind was blank, in apparent anticipation of her scans. Any impressions he has of her would have to remain a mystery.
"My father owes his existence to you. 'Arella reasoned' It was either you or Trigon."
The old man wasn't impressed. He remained silent and hobbled away. Arella was more than a bit disappointed. After a life time of imagining the occasion of finally meeting her fathers mentor, she had been hoping for a warmer reception. Terry seemed amiable though. Of course he at this point he really didn't have much of a choice. As the Tamaranians would say: "The Porkins was out of the Dragma".
"You were the one in Trig and Gym today." He whispered
"Lucky for me. I was afraid I would have to search the entire school to find you."
"There was no luck to it." Bruce added coldly
He probably knew the minute she arrived in Gotham. For all she knew the old man arranged for them to share classes.
"And what happened to Nelson in Gym?"
"I dislike bullies."
"You know they're making him see a shrink."
"Hope they can help him."
As Terry and Arella followed Bruce back to the computer, Ace took his place by the girl's side.
"It took weeks for him to warm up to me." Terry remarked
"Ace was doing his job. I just put him at ease." She said while patting him on the side, eliciting a panting doggie smile.
"How do you know his name?"
"He told me."
Household dogs and cats know their names. Vermin instead work on an entirely instinctual basis (eat, sleep and reproducing) while insects think in groups. They had the most amiable and trouble-free farm animals in Kansas.
Bruce sat at the computer and pressed a few buttons while Terry and Arella looked on.
"What kind of arms were they?" Bruce asked
"Plasma throwers and M-ninety rifles."
"Special Operation equipment. 'Bruce nodded' whomever is providing these weapons have access to the military."
"What's going on?" Arella asked
"The loss of the Joker left a serious power vacuum in the gang's leadership. In the last few months, another has stepped in and usurped control."
"Giggles?" Arella offered
"Correct. No one outside the gang has seen him but he is psychotic…"
"What makes you say that?" She asked
"The five Jokerz we found with their throats cut." Terry sighed
"Christ." She gulped
"So what now? Terry yawned
"Nothing. I'll file some inquiries through Wayne Tech's military contacts. Meantime, go home."
Bruce turned to Arella.
"You too."
"But…"
Exactly ten minutes later…
The front doors slammed behind them. God half her life was leading up to this! To be sent away like that was the very definition of anticlimax.
"That's it? 'She sighed' Hello, get out?"
"Were you expecting a hug?"
"Well no but…"
"Look: this is Wayne's world and he's pretty selective on who he brings into it. I had to steal the suit and get beat up for him to let me in. Just let it rest for now."
"You make it sound like the mob."
"Not a bad way of putting it. 'He chuckled' but instead of Tommy Guns and Godfathers, we have Batarangs and Bruce."
They stepped through the estates front wrought-iron gates. Arella turned just in time to see the manors only light shut off. Terry climbed on his motorcycle and kick started its humming engine.
"Going to meet Dana?" She asked
"How did you…never mind." He sighed
God having a mind reader around will take some getting used to.
"Need a ride?" He asked
"I'll walk. Lot of thinking to do."
"Believe me I understand." Terry said and sped off, blowing dead leaves in his wake.
Arella now stood alone in the dark. Not exactly the evening's conclusion she had been hoping for. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she made her way home.
That next day…
The girls were running another circuit around the gyms padded indoor track. Arella appreciated it that day; she had a lot of frustrations to dispose of. So many years preparing and training for naught. This victimized and crushed sensation must be what a wedgie feels like. Maybe she could just go solo? Eh they would hand her ass to her the first night.
"Hey Arella." Dana bid, shaking the girl from her fit of self pity
Arella had developed quite a liking for the girl. She was very nurturing; unlike the old dink she met last night. Dana was also a convenient link between her and Terry.
"How do you like it here?" She asked
"Compared to Smallville High? 'Arella laughed' it's like being on the moon."
"God I can't see why ANYONE would want to live there." Chelsea sniffed
After some studying, Arella realized the blond wasn't nasty just seriously spoiled and immature. In fact, Chelsea's bratty ways were a bit of a joke with the other girls.
"It's why I came here. Smallville is SO yesterday. I mean chalk boards and pencils? So entirely unshway."
"Erickson!" Butch called
She screeched to a halt.
"C'mon: principal wants you."
"Uh oh…BUSTED!" The other girls giggled
"Must have looked in my locker." She laughed
It was fun pretending to be bubble-headed. If only her mother could see her now! It was what Ma would refer to as "pulling a Beast Boy"…whatever the hell that means.
In the principal's office…
Ancient wood furniture and desk and photos of school functions and examples of Japanese calligraphy on the walls made up the bulk of his office. The lack of clutter was no doubt a throwback to Principal Nakamura's Japanese roots. No rack or cattle prods though, as hinted at by her comrades.
"Did I do something wrong?" She asked
"On the contrary my dear, you did something right. Ever heard of Mister Bruce Wayne?"
A silly question but best play things on the QT.
"Just what I've seen on Television."
"He's the richest man in Gotham, not to mention our biggest philanthropist and most generous donor. And apparently he's currently in the market for an intern."
"Really?"
"Yup. And upon seeing your excellent academic scores, Mister Wayne has decided to offer the position to you. Interested?"
Apparently she did make a good impression.
"Most definitely."
One month earlier, in Smallville…
Kneeling on the attic floor, Rachel Erickson rooted through the trunk of old baby clothes and various junk. From the jumble of antiques she found the rolled up blue baby blanket. It had been Arella's during her first months and still smelled of spit-up and formula.
She set it on the floor and unrolled it, revealing a small yellow radio hidden inside. Of all the stuff from her super hero salad days, this was the only thing she kept. Something in the back of her head knew this day would come. God sometimes being so smart really sucks.
Taking the Radio, she pressed a button on it's side and the front panel flipped open. Immediately the view screen inside flickered into life. The sucker still works! Cyborg certainly built them to last. She pressed the red alarm button on its face. Would he still have his nearby? Let's hope so otherwise things were going to get very complicated
After several minutes, an aged but familiar face appeared. His once youthful face was now wrinkled and furrowed and his black hair had gone almost entirely gray. He squinted.
"Who is this?" Nightwing asked suspiciously
"Who do you think?"
His eyes opened wide.
"Good Christ, Raven?"
"Rachel. 'She corrected' has been for seventeen years."
"Ah, okay. How's Arella?"
"That's why I'm calling. I need to talk to Batman."
"We haven't spoken in years. Pretty sure he's retired."
"Bruce then? It's very important."
"I can arrange it. What's up?"
"He's got a little surprise heading his way."
The End