GOTHAM CITY

It had been a year since the invasion. Earth was still recovering. Some places took longer to recover than others. Inmates had escaped from both Blackgate and Arkham when those locations had taken damage. Some had been apprehended quickly and taken back into custody. Others stayed quiet for a few months; but old habits die hard, and when they poked their heads up, they too had been taken back to their former bed and breakfast behind bars. Some were still at large. They were keeping quiet. It wouldn't last. It never did.

Commissioner James Gordon stood on the roof of the Gotham City Police Department headquarters building. Sometimes he came up here just to clear his head and think. Other times he came up here to flip the switch of the special spotlight that adorned the rooftop. This was one of the latter times. He gazed out at the city, his home, his responsibility. He patiently waited as he had hundreds of times before. The bight illumination of the spotlight lit up the night sky; and the unique silhouette in its center served as both a call for assistance, and as a reminder to Gotham's underworld that they had something to fear. In the center of the spotlight was the outline of a bat, with its wings spread. The Bat Signal was as much a part of the Gotham night sky as the moon. On the nights when the moon didn't shine, Gotham still knew that out there, somewhere, the Protector of the good and the Bane of the bad was still at work. The spotlight turned off. Gordon turned from looking out at the city to face the center of the roof.

"Keeping busy?" Gordon asked the two figures who had silently appeared on the roof.

"You know us," the response came from the younger, and more talkative of the two, "there's always a party to crash. You'd think one of these days they'd actually send an invitation."

"What, your names aren't on the permanent guest lists?"

"I'm sure it's just an oversight."

The younger of the two visitors was Robin, the Boy Wonder. Next to him stood a darker and more imposing figure; the original reason the Bat Signal had been set up, Gotham's Dark Knight—Batman. "What have you got?" No preamble. Unlike Robin, Batman was more often than not straight to business.

"There was a fourth one earlier tonight. Just as dead as the others. Initial investigation found no physical marks of violence; but we'll run through the usual forensic circus of DNA, tox screen, and whatever else might shed light on it."

"You have the lab results from the other three?"

Gordon handed Batman a folder, "Yeah, definitely no signs of physical violence; but there are significantly high levels of adrenaline and glutamate in all of them."

Robin spoke up, "Which means…?"

Batman quickly, but thoroughly, read through the report, "They were literally scared to death."

"Bummer."

Gordon waited for Batman to finish his initial read through, "Kind of narrows down the suspect list, doesn't it?"

A smile came to Robin's face, "Ol' Straw Face finally coming out of hiding?"

"No outside chemicals were found."

Gordon looked at Batman, "Your point?"

"Scarecrow typically uses an artificial stimulus of some kind to induce the panic and fear in his victims. No traces of gas in the lungs, no powders on the skin—if it was an external agent, it wasn't chemical."

"Hypnosis? Mind control of some kind?"

"Scarecrow doesn't have the talent to induce hypnotic suggestion without an external stimulus of some sort. There were no signs of physical violence or struggle on the victims; that includes no marks indicating being tied down. No rope burns, no chain marks, no lingering adhesive residue."

"You mean they weren't taped or glued to a chair."

Batman nodded, "post hypnotic suggestion might be a possibility, but that would have needed to be implanted and reinforced over several sessions; or one very intense long one. Was there any record of the victims having unexplained absences?"

Gordon shook his head, "None. Family, friends, and co-workers all agree everything was normal. There's also no tie in between any of them. All died in different parts of the city. All had different careers and were from various places on the income spectrum."

Robin offered his guess, "How about Tetch?"

Gordon covered this one, "Mad Hatter's locked up. As good an alibi as he'll ever have."

Batman handed the folder back to Gordon, "For now we'll put Crane as our top priority. If it is Scarecrow, things will be less complex. Worst case scenario is it's a lone wolf maniac. Let me know if anything new is found." Batman and Robin pulled guns from their utility belts which held compressed gas-powered grappling hooks and special cable. They fired them at a distant roof top and swung into the night.

METROPOLIS

"Good Morning, Metropolis!" The cheerful sound of the anchor of the Metropolis morning program could be heard on radio and tv. "Have we got a show for you today. Our culinary segment features a special guest all the way from Amsterdam; he'll be sharing some of his favorite made from scratch sauces to spice up those summer block parties. Don't miss our pop culture spot. You'll have front row seats to the newest top artist on the charts; and let's not forget about the game last night! Scott will have all the highlights for you; but first let's see what you can expect for weather over the next few days. Leonard?"

"Thanks, Cathy. Metropolis is in for a week of sun. Get those picnics in while you can." The voices of the hosts continued over the air waves as the streets filled with regularly scheduled traffic jams, horn blasts, and ill-tempered insults; both verbal and non-verbal. Lois Lane was glad to walk into the lobby of the world headquarters of the Daily Planet. If it wasn't for all the pros of living in the city, she'd never be able to deal with all the cons. She exited the elevator and made her way to her desk. She caught the attention of a runner and waved him over. He held up a single finger, while holding a phone between shoulder and head, and proceeded to write down a quick note. He hung up and ran over to Lois.

"What ya got for me, Jorge?"

"One year since invasion—what scars have still to heal?"

"Every media outlet in the world is going to have a cover on that. What else?"

"Uhm, is the rise in costumed heroes a response to a spike in crime, or is a spike in crime a challenge to the rise in costumed heroes?"

"Seriously? I don't write for the local college Philosophy round table."

"Embezzlement in the Mayor's office."

"Seriously?"

"Si. An independent auditor noticed some discrepancies and…"

Lois interrupted him, "It's a start. Get me what you have so far."

Jorge smiled and handed her the note he had written down as she had been walking in, "Phone call came in just before you got here."

Lois nodded as she looked over the phone message Jorge had written out. "All right; looks like I have a cab to catch."

Roy Hunter was with a client. His suit was off the rack, but he didn't use that as an excuse to not dress his best. He looked every bit the professional financial advisor one might expect. He offered a firm handshake and friendly smile to everyone who entered his office. The sunglasses he wore hid his eyes and caused several first-time visitors to give him a strange look. Strange looks didn't bother him. He couldn't see them anyway. He was blind. "Investing really isn't that difficult, Miss Sheppard."

"I can't make heads or tails of all those numbers. Math has never been my strong point."

"Well, you can rest easy. I'll be happy to not only make recommendations I think may suit your circumstance, but also teach you how to invest on your own if you want."

"Really? Do you always try to lose business by giving away secrets of the trade?"

He offered a polite laugh, "I find the honest approach has actually aided in keeping clients; and as you'll find out if you decide to follow my lessons, there really aren't any secrets in learning how to find the right investments. There is homework involved, and a little research; but all of it is possible from the comfort of your home."

"All right, what's your first pointer?"

"The basics we'll start with are Index Funds. Have you heard of the S&P 500?"

"I hear about it on the news. They're always saying something about it being up or down, but it's a foreign language to me."

"It is to a lot of people. The S&P 500 is the Standard and Poor's 500. It is a benchmark index, a sort of rough average if you will, of the 500 largest publicly trades Stocks on the U.S. Stock Market. Some of the biggest concerns people have when it comes to investing is affordability, safety, and consistency. Would you say those three items are a priority for you?"

"Definitely."

He smiled, "then you'll be glad to know you can have all three with just one investment. By investing in an Index Fund, you'll be investing in a Mutual Fund that offers the safety, or diversity as some professionals like to call it, of the 500 companies in the S&P 500, a very low cost expense giving you the affordability you need, and a consistent return for the past 50 years."

"Too good to be true."

"Let me show you the Charles Schwab S&P 500 Index Fund. Its Ticker Symbol is SWPPX."

"Ticker symbol?"

"I'm getting ahead of myself. For now, let's just show you the type of investing help we can give you here, and what SWPPX can offer you as well."

Lois found the office building of Freeman and Associates, and double checked the note Jorge had given her. She took the elevator to the fifth floor, and found a sign informing readers which offices were on what hallway. She walked past potted plants, and windows with scenic views of windows of other building across the street, and found the appropriate office. The walls to the inner offices were glass, and she was able to see the man she had come to interview was currently with a client. She took a seat in the waiting area and began watching the tv hanging on a wall. The channel was set to a cable business news program. The hosts were discussing various companies, commodities, and what influence the latest international summit might have on the global economy. She heard the door open, and turned to see a woman dressed in jeans, and a Metropolis Community College t-shirt step out of the office escorted by Roy Hunter.

"I'm happy I could help, Miss Sheppard. You have my phone number. Call, or stop by if you have any questions."

Lois waited for the client to walk down the hallway, then she looked around to ensure no one else was here for a pre-scheduled appointment. "Mr. Hunter?" He turned toward her voice. "I'm Lois Lane. You called the Daily Planet and left a message for me."

"Miss Lane. Please, come in. I wasn't expecting such a prompt reply from you. None of the other outlets I contacted seemed interested."

"I have a nose for a good story, and I'm between assignments. You have proof of embezzlement?"

Roy shook hands with Lois and waved her to the seat just vacated by his previous client. "My job involves finding patterns."

"How did someone who works for a financial investment firm wind up auditing city financials?"

"It was actually a friend of mine who set me on that track."

"Your friend's name?"

"Anonymous," he smiled, "for now at least. This friend of mine discovered some discrepancies and wanted a second opinion. He paid for the records to be translated to braille, and I did my own research. I…" he paused and looked in the direction of the outer office where Lois had just been sitting.

She turned to look through the glass walls and saw nothing significant. She glanced back and forth between Roy and the direction he seemed to be looking. "Is there a problem, Mr. Hunter?"

"Please, call me Roy. I think it might be best if you get behind my desk, Miss Lane."

"Excuse me?"

"Quickly, please. Our lives are in danger."

It was then Lois heard the unmistakable noise of a gunshot. She had heard her fair share over the years as a reporter. Shouts and screams immediately followed the initial shot; additional thunders in quick succession told her the mysterious assailant was armed with something that could shoot fast. She decided to accept the invitation Roy had extended and ducked with him behind his large wooden desk.

"Security is on the way."

She gave him a look of confusion. Was he telling her that to just reassure her the situation would end, or was it something else? Within a minute, security was indeed on the floor and apprehending the gunman. Roy nodded to her, "The situation seems to have resolved itself, but I'm afraid our interview may need to be postponed."

"Of course, uhm, you know where to find me."

They shook hands and waited for security to clear their floor and allow them to leave. Roy watched her go. He watched her just as he was able to watch everyone else. He was blind only in the physical ocular sense. Since his teenage years he had vision unrelated to his physical eyes. He was able to sense others, see their aura for lack of a better term, and actually "see" them physically almost as a radar. He wouldn't describe himself as psychic. He couldn't read thoughts or influence them; but with practice he had been able to read people's emotions and intentions, and the communication between brain and body. The unconscious acts normal people do on a daily basis such as avoid pot holes, step up or down, speed up or slow down—all were processes requiring the brain to signal the body the best way to move; which joints to use, and the muscle power required for each action. He could "see" all of that. He saw when the gunman had gotten off the elevator, and had sensed his intent for violence; all before he drew his weapon and began firing.

Roy exited his place of employment and began to walk toward a café he enjoyed going for lunch. He sensed something was wrong with the Mayor; there was more than simple embezzlement happening. He also sensed something else. He couldn't quite describe it accurately. It wasn't anything he had felt before. For lack of a better term, it was an awakening. He sensed an awakening of confusion, an awakening of good, and an awakening of something sinister. He took a deep inhale, and slowly let it out. His job was to identify patterns in financial markets; he used braille printouts of stock charts to identify the various patterns they presented. That was how he knew how to advise his clients when to invest, and when not to invest. What he sensed was a new pattern forming; but he didn't yet know how it would culminate or climax. He effortlessly sidestepped a man intent on his phone screen, crossed the street by simply seeing on his radar when everyone else was in the crosswalk, and abruptly stopped to avoid being tripped over by a delivery man with a package.

He stretched out his radar, or aura sense. He smiled as he recognized the presence he had been searching for. Something sinister may be about to happen; but when the sinister arose, it would be met by a force for truth, justice, and good. He looked skyward. He couldn't physically see him, but he recognized the shouts of excitement from those standing next to him as they looked up. The man in the sky gave hope to everyone as he waved at them and flew past, his red cape streaming behind him. Roy nodded to himself and continued his path to lunch. He just needed the reassurance. If anything in this city was too sinister for the everyday people to handle, they could always count on it being a job for Superman.