9.03
Before I could do anything else, I'd need to find the man, first.
I hadn't been paying too much attention to him, since there were far more important things to handle, but that didn't mean I hadn't read the news. He was starting to make quite the stir in a few cities all over the country, thanks to his methods and the eyewitness reports.
One night, he'd foil a robbery and a few muggings in New York, then bust a drug kingpin in Chicago the next. Eyewitness reports were fleeting, thanks to the cover of darkness he used and the speed he handled operations, but the aftermath was clear- rattled but unharmed civilians, and crooks that'd be lucky to spend the next month drinking out of a straw.
I didn't approve of such methods, but there were worse offenders. He apparently wasn't the ones for executions, and seemed unwilling to let innocents get in the crossovers, unlike some infamous examples of vigilantes.
Eventually, the police managed to get a rough picture based on the accounts of the people the man had saved, along with the blubbering of the thugs he manhandled.
A tall shadow, almost like that of a giant bat.
Originally, he was thought to be a Case 53 like Weld. It made sense- when there were capes that looked like walking trees or something out of an HR Giger movie, a bat-like shadow didn't seem that much of a stretch.
Then they'd found tinker-tech at the scenes. Most of it was rigged to dissolve, somehow, but there were traces here and there, where the mechanisms must have failed.
That raised a few eyebrows. Tinkers didn't operate alone as a rule of thumb, so why was there one operating solo missions against some of the nastiest the country had to offer?
Still, he flew under the radar at first. Maybe he'd show up in a news blurb, or get mention on PHO, since those guys would have twenty-page arguments on why Narwal had a horn on her head, but for the most part he was out of focus. There were plenty of vigilante heroes out there, after all, and what was just one more?
Then, people realized just how capable he'd proven himself to be.
It was one thing to handle the mundane criminals and organizations; they might pack firepower, but they're rather predictable. But taking down entiregangs of parahumans, often in one night, was a whole other beast. He'd defeated high-level capes all over the classification chart, and evidence seemed to suggest he did it alone.
The League and I did bigger things every day, but the fact that some lone vigilante was taking down such villains with surgical precision was attention-getting. Already he'd become some kind of bogeyman for the criminal underworld stateside, one that struck a kind of fear that I could never instill.
They wouldn't want to run into Superwoman at night, but they were terrified of the Batman.
He sounded like just the kind of person I needed.
S
Like a lot of hunters, he only moved at night, using the cover of darkness as an advantage. That narrowed down possible places he could be in, so I checked each city shortly after sunset. Brockton Bay and other spots in New England were clear, as was New York.
For the first few days, I found nothing. Sometimes, I'd be too preoccupied with an emergency to go looking for him, especially when the entire League was involved, but other times there were just no sightings. Eventually, however, I knew I'd catch him at the right time.
I eventually found my mark in Chicago.
It was a stormy night in the Windy City, but that didn't seem to stop him from going on the prowl. I found him crouched on the corner of a rooftop, like some odd gargoyle, staring down into a small alleyway that had half a dozen crooks making some kind of deal.
I gently descended a few feet behind him, making sure I didn't actually put my weight on the gravelly rooftop. For a moment, I simply floated there, wondering how I'd breach the subject. It wasn't like I could just give him a tap on the back and say "how are you, buddy!".
Though, I did find the thought pretty tempting.
"I don't like being snuck on," he suddenly said. His voice was distorted, most likely by a tinker device. "Why are you here, Superwoman?"
"It's not like we can talk over a cup of coffee," I replied.
Slowly, he moved a hand away from his belt, and turned around to face me.
I had to admit, he'd become a bogeyman for good reason, just going by appearance alone. He looked like some kind of demonic knight garbed in dark grey and black armor, with horns protruding from his helm, and what looked like claws on the tips of his gauntleted fingers. A thick black cape was draped over his shoulders, like a cloak, and his eyes were hidden behind glowing white lenses. On his chest, I could make out a stylized bat etched into the armor.
"Then let's talk," he said, taking a step closer.
It was a bit intimidating, even if he posed no threat. I was two inches off the ground, and not a short girl in the slightest, but he still managed to stand a good head over me. It didn't help that he had the figure of a bodybuilder, and was wearing bulky armor.
"I've read up on you." I rose a few inches, to better look him in the eye. "I don't agree with your methods, but I know you've done some good work, especially with that small fiasco in Manhattan."
"Is that why you interrupted my patrol? Just to say that?"
"No."
The Batman folded his arms. "Is this to take me in, then?"
"Also no," I replied, mirroring his gesture. "It's why I haven't just taken a peek under that helmet of yours, either. I'm asking for your help in something."
"Oh?" He relaxed somewhat, but still stood straight. "You don't seem like the kind to go asking vigilantes for help."
I gave a small shrug. "Normally, that's true, but the situation requires a certain kind of tact, something I don't have. I might be able to rip an Endbringer in half, but I'm no detective."
He seemed to consider it for a while. The deal was still going on below, and there was no doubt that it was pressuring him to make a decision.
"What kind of situation are we talking about here?" he finally asked.
I grabbed some waterproof paper and a pencil from a pouch in my utility belt, and drew a copy of Dinah's photo. I could recall every detail, down to the last pore, and I made sure that it was as close to the original as possible. There was no telling what he could get from the small details, after all.
I held it up for him to see, and he took the paper from my hand.
"She's been missing for eighteen days, now," I said. "I haven't been able to find a trace of her anywhere, and I'm not certain who could have taken her."
"Not 'certain', you say. That implies you at least have some leads."
"Just one. Ever hear of Thomas Calvert?"
"CEO of Fortress Construction," he replied. "Didn't he make the news with some new kind of Endbringer shelter?"
I nodded.
"What makes you think he's responsible?"
I paused for half a moment. "I have reason to believe he orchestrated the fiasco in Brockton Bay with Noelle, since it was his company that was transporting her."
"That's flimsy at best."
"True," I admitted. "But that's why I want your help in investigating it. Maybe Calvert's not responsible, but if he turns out to be, and I could've figured it out? I'd never forgive myself."
He glanced down at the drawing, then folded it gently and stashed it away in his utility belt.
"I'll help you," he said. "But I'll need something to work with, first."
"Leave that to me," I replied. "Besides, I think I already have something in mind."
"Alright then," the Batman said. "You can find me in Brockton Bay tomorrow night."
I extended my hand. "Consider it done. I'll see you then."
He hesitated for a few moments, then shook my hand, rather awkwardly. I didn't know why, but there was something awfully familiar about it. Maybe it was the cool metal of his glove that reminded me of Weld, but that didn't seem to fit.
"Good talking to you, Superwoman," he said. "Now, if you excuse me…"
With that, he turned around and hopped over the edge of the rooftop, cape fluttering as he descended upon the thugs below. They had no idea what hit them at first, and there wasn't much time to process things before the screaming began.
I decided to sit back and watch him come down on the gang like the wrath of God. If it got out of hand, I could stop it in a heartbeat, but I wanted to get an idea of how he operated.
He landed right in the middle of them, asphalt cracking under his metal boots, and immediately dropped two with tranquilizers to the throat. Another overcame his shock in time to try and club him over the head, only for the Batman to dodge the blow and jab three fingers into his solar plexus.
The man fell to the ground, wheezing and gasping for air, just as the remaining three were drawing their weapons.
That hadn't gone unnoticed. The Batman swung around, lashing out with a kick, and knocked the gun out of the nearest thug's hand. The momentum brought his cape swinging around, and it whipped at the other two's faces, disorienting them. A quick peek revealed small weights in the scallops, which explained things.
Now, he rushed forward. One of the thugs opened fire, but the Batman had ducked a half-second before the trigger was pulled, and rewarded the man's efforts with an uppercut that was more felt than heard. Still moving forward, he brought his elbow into the last one's face with enough force to splinter the crook's cheekbone, and they were all down.
All in all, it'd taken him twenty-five seconds. He went easier on them than most -maybe it had something to do with the Endslayer staring down at him while it went on- but the men would be feeling this night for a while.
He made sure to cuff them all, then he stretched his arm at a nearby wall and flexed his fist. A grappling hook shot out of a small device on his wrist, and he was gone, rappelling away.
Already, I could hear the sounds of sirens in the distance, drawn by the gunshot. They could handle the clean-up; there were other things that needed my attention.
With that, I flew away, heading out of the city. I'd be taking my shift at the Fortress in an hour, and Dragon wanted my permission to try something for Weld. Something about assimilating Kryptonian alloys, and perhaps even allowing him to make more complex tools with it.
I'd make sure to ask Colin about that, once he started his shift in the morning. Come to think of it, I imagined he could offer some insight on tinkers.
As I flew over to the Fortress, I couldn't help but smile a little. There was still no sign of Dinah, but I couldn't help but feel I'd taken a step closer to finding her.
I'd made myself a strange ally this night, that was for certain. He was almost my polar opposite in appearance and methodology, but it seemed that he had what it took to help me find the girl, and perhaps even uncover the truth about Calvert.
Would it actually work? Could the Batman actually help me crack the case wide open and save Dinah?
Only time would tell, but I was feeling cautiously optimistic.
S
9.04
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"C'mon, it'd be hilarious. Could you imagine-"
"Dennis, I'm not going as myself for Halloween."
He folded his arms and pouted. "You don't think capes dress up, too? I remember this one time where Assault and Battery actually swapped costumes for a party, and-"
"Dennis, people know that I live in Brockton Bay, and I don't wear a mask. I'm not taking that kind of risk just for kicks."
"Fine." He leaned back in his chair, propping his legs on the table Weld was sitting on, only to have them pushed off. "I'm going in costume."
Weld frowned. "Dennis, aren't you a little old to be trick-or-treating?"
"Pfffft. There's less and less kids out each year, but the old folks buy the same amount of candy, so they don't give teenagers the stink eye anymore when they come to the door. Taylor can vouch for me on that, right?"
"Yeah," I said, "but-"
"Exactly!" Dennis exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "C'mon Weld, wouldn't you want to go trick-or-treating with me? You and I, Halloween buddies."
Weld tried to scratch his chin, and stopped just sort of getting the block of Kryptonian alloy on his hand stuck to his face. Sighing, he used his other hand.
"Well, I've never actually gone trick-or-treating."
Dennis looked as though he'd been slapped across the face. "What? Why? Is it because you're afraid people would judge you if you went out at night?"
"No. Trick-or-treating's banned in Boston."
"Oh," Dennis said simply, his face becoming as red as his hair.
I interrupted the awkward pause with a cough. "Weld, you and I could go trick-or-treating together if you want."
He smiled at that. "Really? I mean, I'd understand if you're busy…"
I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Even Superwoman needs time off."
"Ugh," Dennis groaned, clutching his chest. "Kill me. Please."
"I know you're even worse with Emma," Weld retorted. "I don't physically have a pancreas, but you give me diabetes whenever you call her 'honeybun' around me."
"Do I contradict myself?" Dennis spread his arms wide, speaking in a grand manner. "Very well, I contradict myself. I am vast; I contain multitudes."
Weld and I both stared at him, looks of mild surprise on our faces. He simply shrugged.
"What? I read poetry in my free time."
"Huh," was all Weld said.
I glanced down at my watch, and sighed. "Well, I have to go."
"Work?" Weld asked.
"Yeah," I replied, leaning over to give another kiss. "I'll see you at seven?"
"Seven sounds good. Maybe we could take Emma and Dennis along as a double date."
"Sweet!" Dennis exclaimed. "Taylor probably knows which places have the best candy, too."
"And you've hidden your depths again," Weld said with a sigh.
I smiled, then quietly headed out of the room. I was out of the Fortress quickly after that, and back to Brockton Bay. Night was swiftly approaching, especially now that autumn was in full swing, and there was a meeting I had to attend to.
But first, there was something else I needed to attend to.
S
Phone calls can be pretty frustrating when you have super senses. It's one thing for the person you're calling to not have their phone on them, but it's another when they're just too lazy to check who's calling, and you can see them not bothering with it.
Wells, it seemed, was one of the latter.
"Come on, come on," I muttered. "Pick up the phone."
Finally, he did, and his eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. I made a mental note to hand out special phones to our non-combat members for League business, instead of just calling them on their normal ones.
"Allo."
"Hey Wells, it's me."
"Figured that," he said, sitting up in his chair and pausing the soccer game he was watching. "Is there a problem? Need me back down in Washington or something?"
"No," I replied. "I just wanted to ask you something."
"Ask away then."
"I know that you were in the PRT all the way back in '99," I said, glancing down at the old rosters. "Did you ever know someone named Calvert? Thomas Calvert?"
Wells paused, taking a sip of beer. "Calvert? Hmm… I think I remember a bloke by that name. He's the big new businessman in town, if I recall."
"That's the one. Did you ever work with him, personally?"
"No, never actually had him in the squad, but I'd hear about him at the old watering hole. Bit of a tosser, from what I heard. Seemed to look down on the others, and a bit of a bad attitude. In fact, there was an old rumor… eh, not worth mentioning."
I frowned. "Old rumor?"
"Well, uh, I heard something about him shooting his own commanding officer during the Nilbog incident and getting jail time for it, but I couldn't find any paperwork for it. The whole thing was very hush-hush, you have to understand. All I know is that he wasn't in the PRT after that."
"Do you think the rumor's true?" I asked.
He blinked. "What?"
"Do you think he shot his commanding officer?"
"I mean… well, I didn't hear anything official about it, but I wouldn't be terribly shocked if that was the case. The prat seemed like the kind of man to do that."
"Thank you, Wells."
"Now, why are you asking me about something like that?" he asked. "Is there some trouble I need to know about?"
I weighed the decision whether to tell him or not. He was a trustworthy man, with a spotless record, but the less people that knew about the investigation…
"No," I finally said. "Just wondering, that's all."
He didn't seem wholly convinced, but he said, "Alright, then. Happy Halloween, lass."
"Thanks. Enjoy your game."
I hung up, and began to think about what he said. I'd also asked Spoon, Cooper, and J'onn about it; the first two had also heard rumors, while J'onn hadn't been in the PRT when it happened, but had a feeling something was up.
Did Calvert actually shoot his commanding officer? Wells seemed to think it was possible, but he also admitted to only hearing about the man. Cooper has expressed disbelief, feeling that such a thing wouldn't go unnoticed, while Spoon said 'the wanker's probably done more than that'.
Well, if it actually had happened, then the paperwork that could prove it was probably gone, taken with the PRT as an organization. I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to get the papers themselves, and thereby destroy the last ties to his crime.
The sound of children calling out 'trick-or-treat!' down below interrupted my reverie. The sun had already set, and people were out in full swing, all dressed in a manner of costumes. Some, I noted, were dressed as me.
I smiled. There were at least twice as many people out this year compared to last Halloween; they felt safer this time, now that they knew there was someone watching over them. The costumes seemed fuller, the decorations more plentiful, and there were more houses giving out candy.
I'd be down there in a while, with Weld and Dennis and Emma. It'd be fun, just hanging out with them and scoring some candy, and it'd definitely be a break from being Superwoman. I'd made myself a costume for the occasion.
Frankenstein and his Bride would rock the Bay this Halloween.
Well, if it went as planned, anyway. I'd sent him a text explaining it, but I hadn't checked to see if he'd seen it. The night wouldn't be ruined, exactly, but it'd be nice if we could have complementing costumes.
I became aware of another heartbeat, a good twenty feet away, and sighed.
Unfortunately, business had to come before pleasure.
I heard the faint sound of boots on the gravel of the nearby rooftop, and I turned around.
"I was afraid you weren't going to show," I said.
"I'm a man of my word," the Batman replied. "Now, you said you'd produce some leads for me."
I gently floated down to the rooftop, and walked over to him. Tapping at the wafer-thin computer built into the wrist of my suit, I pulled up a hologram a strange ring. It looked almost like something from a science fiction show; considering what it was, the description was pretty apt.
"This is the invention Calvert unveiled a while back," I said. "It's called Janus, after the Roman god of doorways, among other things. It can open a portal to another Earth, one that's uninhabited."
"I've heard so," the Batman murmured. "Is it truly capable of it?"
"I watched the demonstration," I replied. "He stepped through with a camera crew, showed them the shelters he was constructing, then stepped out. The machine's real."
The Batman studied the image for a few moments. A cool breeze rolled by, and his cape fluttered in the wind.
"It's certainly something, but how is it a lead in this case?" he finally asked.
"I couldn't see anything without looking right through the portal," I said. "And it made me realize-"
"That Calvert could hide any activities from you in another universe," the Batman finished. "Now I can see how it could be a problem. For all you know, he could preparing any sort of plan without you being able to tell what he's up to."
"Exactly. Just one problem." I pulled up an official statement Calvert released. "The machine's had some basic blueprints posted- not enough to reveal the inner workings, but you can get an idea of what it does. And it apparently only goes to that Earth."
"At least, that's what he claims," the Batman retorted. "Even if the public machines can only go to one Earth, I wouldn't be surprised if he has a model to himself that can go to other ones. And if we can find it-"
"We can get to Dinah," I said.
The Batman nodded. "And this is where I come in. The very fact that he may have the only thing that can hide things from you is reason enough to suspect he's complicit in Dinah's kidnapping."
"Do you think you can break into the facility and rescue her?"
He tilted his head. "The break-in would be child's play. I have the equipment for the job, and I can plan around whatever security measures he has. However, tinkertech's finicky at best; he's probably watered it down considerably in order to better operate it, but it may prove difficult to open the portal."
"You're going to need my help, aren't you?"
He nodded. "It's possible that there are safeguards to prevent unwanted access to the dimension he's hiding Dinah in. It'd be far easier to get the job done when I have you on my side."
"Alright then," I said. "I'm in."
"Good. Now, we need to observe the facility at first, and gather important information on guard shifts and what kind of security measures he-"
Suddenly, the Batman was interrupted by the sound of a roar, more felt than heard.
It wasn't like anything I'd heard before. It almost sounded human, but distorted and warped into something horrifying, like a death rattle magnified a thousand times over. Judging by the Batman's change in posture, he'd heard it as well.
"What," he said slowly, as if measuring his words, "the hell, was that?"
I didn't reply. At the same time as the roar, I became aware of another sound- a scream, one far beyond the range humans could sing or even hear at. I reflexively clamped my hands over my ears as the shriek assailed my senses, then forced myself to listen.
An icy feeling was forming in the pit of my gut, and I knew why. To think I'd hoped they'd be gone for good…
My suspicions were only confirmed when I saw that the nearby glass was rattling.
You have been reading:
The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Nine, Part II: City of Tomorrow