CHAPTER 38

ANOTHER EARTH, LONG AGO

Thomas Wayne watched the crowd scurry around the center ring with interest. His loyal butler, Alfred Pennyworth, slipped into a seat beside him, panting a little.

"The matter is taken care of?" Thomas asked, attention focused on the center ring.

"I took care of the wires myself and I've just come from Haley. I reiterated our position and the circus has already made up the late payments, with a substantial bonus. After the way the Graysons died, I don't think that Haley will refuse payment again."

Eyes never leaving the crying child in the center ring, Thomas nodded. "Good work, Alfred. Now, for the boy..."

"The boy?" Alfred's voice lifted in surprise. "What about him? An orphan's home, I had supposed. We get out best thieves from the two you have endowed."

Thomas' gaze remained the crying boy. How much the child reminded him of himself and yes, Bruce, at that age. Young Richard Grayson could even be a relative, he looked so much like a Wayne... "I think not. He has a rare talent, that one. I've often thought that he would make an excellent apprentice. I'd like to take him home."

Alfred was silent for a moment. He had learned long ago that his master, who believed himself to be a logical man, was actually quite emotional and impulsive. Swallowing the frustrated sigh that threatened to escape him, Alfred merely replied, "Shall I make the necessary calls?"

Thomas stood up, brushing the sawdust from his coat. "I'd appreciate it if you would." He made as if to go over to the child when Alfred laid a restraining hand on his arm. Thomas stared at the hand, unaccustomed to Alfred giving him commands.

"Sir, you must consider what public opinion will say about your suddenly taking in a very...handsome...young boy into your home," Alfred said delicately. "The child isn't even a relative. The reporters will have a field day with it and your reputation..."

Thomas' eyes blazed. "Alfred, you know my appetites and that they do not extend towards children! I will probably never marry and endanger my secrets. Just the same, I'd like to have a son...or a little brother..." Thomas' attention returned to the boy. "Just to keep our options open, I'll simply be his guardian and not formally adopt him. Will that suit you?"

"It will have to, sir," Alfred said and stepped aside as Thomas moved quickly towards the center ring. Since Alfred had murdered Thomas' parents for him, it had only been the two of them, a team. He preferred not to enlarge the family, even if the boy was young and malleable. Just like raising kittens, children grew up, to become neither cute nor biddable.


ANOTHER EARTH, SOME YEARS LATER

"Striking out against Commissioner Gordon and his daughter could bring unwelcome attention down upon us," Alfred pled desperately.

Thomas swirled the bourbon in his glass, then sipped. "I want her killed. We kill Gordon as well to cover up the real murder. He has dozens of enemies in Gotham, nobody will be looking at us."

"She's just a child, sir, and you know how temporary childhood friendships are," Alfred said. "And have you considered the effect on Talon? She is his best friend."

"And that is why she must go," Thomas replied stubbornly, chin poked out. "He spends all his spare time with her and not here in the cave. He has become slipshod and absent-minded, either of which could get him killed."

"Admit it, sir, you're jealous," Alfred said. "You've become so fond of him, you resent his other interests. You must allow the boy some normal social ties of his own. He will want to date girls and establish sexual relationships with them. He may even marry and start his own family."

"So long as I am first in his life, I have no quarrel with that. But Barbara Gordon is the Police Commissioner's daughter, making it more likely that he will let something slip and endanger our operation. Both Gordons go. See to it, Alfred," Thomas said, taking another sip.

Alfred's eyes hardened. "Very well, sir."

Alfred diligently set up the hit, using only the most reliable men. The accident occurred on a rainy night, leaving the Gordons' car a ball of fire. The driver, presumed drunk, got away and remained an infamous cold case in G.C.P.D.'s files.

Alfred himself had begun to ponder his life. His commitment to Thomas was, as always, absolute. He loved the man like a son, as perhaps he could be. Martha Wayne had had the morals of an alley cat, taking a wide variety of men into her bed, including that fascinating new British butler with the lovely accent. Coincidentally, Alfred had shared her bed about nine months before Thomas' birth, along with a gardener and Thomas Wayne senior himself. He'd never had the courage to actually test the DNA, deciding that it was just as well, given the differences in their stations in life.

But Richard presented a problem that Alfred had begun to be concerned about. Alfred had resolved to wait until Richard grew up and left home. Presumably, some time in his teens the boy would rebel and Master Thomas would recover from whatever feelings he'd conceived for the boy. Alfred had hoped that Richard would some day marry Barbara Gordon, probably against Thomas' wishes. On that day, Alfred would again be first in Thomas' life. Alas, not yet. Thomas remained committed to the boy. Alfred resolved to be patient and continue his surveillance of Talon.


ANOTHER EARTH, A MONTH AGO

"Sir, I do wish you would reconsider," Pennyworth remonstrated with his employer. "As I have said before, too much truth is not good for some relationships." Thomas' fatuous affection for the boy had come to a head. Now he wanted to adopt him, after telling the boy the truth about the Graysons' murder! Richard wasn't stupid! While Thomas had bought off most of the local judges, it hadn't been a clean sweep. And that new District Attorney, Harvey Dent was posing problems as well. "He could go to the police!"

Thomas Wayne, tying his tie, merely smiled at the reflection of his aged butler in the mirror. "For all intents and purposes, Richard has been my son since he was twelve. He's saved my life a dozen times and I've done the same for him. I trust him not to turn on me." He turned, seeing the look of shock on Alfred's face. "That's why I want to come clean and tell him everything. He'll figure it out himself anyway. It's better that it come from me. Richard is younger than we are and he can do more with the fortune I've built up than either of us can. With the bulk of the Wayne companies and money behind him, Richard can have what you and I have always wanted most: ultimate power." He finished with his tie and donned the suit jacket. "I've already been to see the lawyer. Right after New Year's Day, I'm formally adopting Richard as my son and heir. "

"Of course, sir," Pennyworth asked. "But don't you think he will be upset when you tell him about what really happened to his parents?" Was Thomas mad? This was a danger, not only to Thomas but to Alfred Pennyworth himself. Both of them could spend the rest of their lives in Blackgate if Richard told the police.

"He is my son in everything that counts," Thomas said with a smile. "I want everything clear between us. He and I have been so close, I'm sure he'll forgive me and understand my reasons for what I've done." Pennyworth held open the door and Thomas went through, to the sports car parked in front of the house. He didn't see the hard expression that crossed Pennyworth's face.

That evening, Thomas and Richard Grayson met for dinner in the family dining room at Arkham Manor. Thomas pled, raged and ultimately sat powerless in his chair when Richard Grayson fled the house in anguish. Alfred Pennyworth heard and saw everything from the shadows, watching Thomas finally stood up.

"He's left me, Alfred," Thomas said slowly. "He...he didn't understand that his parents were stiffing me, that I had to do what I did. And the Gordons..." His face fell. "He held it against me. But I only did it because I love him and want him to have a good life!" He turned to Alfred. "What should I do, Alfred?" he said, tears clogging his voice.

Alfred put an arm around his own boy's shoulders, just like he used to. "Let him go for now, Thomas. He is upset, as the young are often upset so easily. He'll come back later. He hasn't been on his own since he was a child; he won't know what to do on the streets alone."

Thomas gave his oldest friend a shaky smile. "Good advice, Alfred. I think I'll go to bed. Thank you."

"And remember sir, whatever happens, I will be here to help you," Alfred replied. feeling the old closeness reviving.

"I never had any doubt," Thomas said and walked slowly up the stairs to his room.

After he was sure that Thomas was asleep, Alfred left the manor for the shadows of Gotham's underworld. He had made contact with a particular criminal some time before and had kept the relationship sweet with regular cash payments in case of future need.


THAT EVENING

"You understand? I don't want Owlman killed. I want you to find Talon and remove him. Permanently," Alfred said to the white-faced clown.

The Joker nodded, his floppy green hair waving in the strong winter wind.

"I've always wanted to bag me that birdie after all the evil he's done in Gotham," he grinned wide, his bared teeth glistening in the dark, "But it's you and Owlman who really deserve killing."

Pennyworth reached into his coat pocket and removed a roll of large bills. "Perhaps another time. When the job is done and Owlman has found the body, you can pick up the second payment in the usual place."

Joker took the money and secreted it in his green suit. "Someday, Gotham will have her justice and I'll be there to see it done." With that, he slipped away. Pennyworth shrugged into his heavy coat. It looked like it was going to be a cold Christmas this year.


PRESENT DAY, THIS EARTH

ROOM 2C

"I thought you might enjoy a spot of tea," Alfred Pennyworth said to the butler known as Pennyworth.

"An interesting interrogation method," Pennyworth replied. "I am familiar with 'good cop, bad cop'."

"This is nothing of the sort," Alfred said, pouring first milk into a cup, then a generous amount of Lapsang souchong. "Sugar?"

"One, please," Pennyworth said, stirring the cup. He tasted took a scone and tasted it. "Mmmmm. Very good. Clearly not Martha's recipe, hers were so dry."

Alfred sat, his own cup before him, prepared identically to that of his opposite number. "Actually, a local physician gave me the recipe. Turns out, her father had a small bakery. I do agree that Martha's recipe wasn't always reliable." Alfred took a sip. "As to interrogation, if your background is anything like mine, I imagine you are quite familiar with the methodology. MI-6?"

"No, I was an agent of His Majesty's Privy Intelligence Service. We didn't give them code numbers. My designation was 'Outsider'." Pennyworth spread a dab of jam on his scone and continued eating. "You?"

"A very obscure branch of Military Intelligence. Unimaginatively, I was simply 'Agent A'," Alfred said, buttering his own scone. "I do hope you enjoy the jam. The strawberries for it grow wild on the estate."

"Quite good," Pennyworth said. "And so, you wish to question me about my master's affairs?"

"Not entirely," Alfred replied. "I thought it was time we had a little chat about our respective masters and one Richard John Grayson."

"Ah," Pennyworth poured himself more tea. "You see the problem."

"Indeed," Alfred said. "You do admit that the...er...Talon...you acquired is not your own?"

Pennyworth smiled. "And yes, my father did advise me that a gentleman doesn't take what does not belong to him. Still, he is an engaging boy."

"A boy who has a family of his own and who can only be shoehorned into yours with considerable difficulty," Alfred replied.

"I am aware of that," Pennyworth said serenely. "This jam really is excellent, but the scones might be improved by the addition of some currants."

"I will consider it," Alfred said patiently. "You don't care for the boy, do you?"

"I care for Thomas Wayne and my only wish is to make him happy," Pennyworth said. "My own feelings towards Talon don't enter into it."

"I imagine it was you who actually...er...lowered the boom, as it were, on the Graysons?" Alfred said delicately.

"Of course. Thomas had to be in the audience that night, ready to comfort the child. In any case, the Graysons were a liability. They had been shorting their payments to us and were influencing others in the circus to stop paying us our cut. They were fortunate that Master Thomas was so taken with their son, or the boy would have died tragically as well."

"Your position will be considerably strengthened if Dick Grayson remains here," Alfred poured another cup of tea for both butlers. "Thomas has shown some affection for Master Dick, even though he isn't his original Richard Grayson. You must have felt let down when Owlman discovered that he could...er...replace his missing Talon. I imagine that he turned to you quite a bit after the first one died." Alfred took a sip, eyes fixed on Pennyworth's face. "Especially after you'd gone to all the trouble of removing the original."

"Figured that out, have you?" Pennyworth smiled ironically. "Master Thomas was beginning to turn towards me in his grief. But then this messy crisis arose." He sighed. "Ah, well, needs must when the Devil drives!"

"And what of this Talon's future?" Alfred cocked his head to one side. "Are you the one who told your Talon about the death of his parents?"

Pennyworth laughed. "Indeed, no! That was Thomas' own idea, although I did try to persuade him otherwise. He wanted to be honest with the boy!" He snorted and wiped his lips with the linen napkin. "After all my reminders to 'think it through' before taking action! He felt guilty about his actions and hoped that the boy would somehow forgive him! Weak. Thomas was always much too sentimental." Pennyworth returned Alfred's stare with a beady-eyed look of his own. "As to Dick Grayson's ultimate fate? Who can say? But he'll die as Thomas' beloved Talon."


ROOM B-2

Several Hours Later

Batman strode into the room without stopping, slamming open the door and letting it close behind him. He approached the prisoner's bunk and slammed a stack of printouts down next to Owlman. "You have to give Dick Grayson the antidote." Batman growled and threw back his cowl. His eyes were bloodshot. Had he been crying? Owlman consciously slowed his pulse back to normal resting. Batman's entrance had triggered his defensive instincts, no doubt on purpose.

"I've already told you," Owlman said with a smirk. "You don't have it on this planet and there's no point in your trying to find an antidote!"

Bruce leaned over Owlman. "Did you want to kill my Dick Grayson? Because that's what is going to happen to this one unless you counteract that drug! Your chemical agent behaves like a prion disease in his blood chemistry. Here is your proof!" Picking up the papers, he shoved them at the criminal. "Read them!"

Owlman began to read from the top sheet. "This is ridiculous. And a fake! Polythymene has been used for years without any harm. You're lying" He said, shoving the papers back. "You just want me to give him back!" Owlman leaned back against the wall. "But he's my partner and he'll stay that way." He had to be faking it, Owlman considered. Bruce Wayne was well-known as a good poker player. And the drug had always been safe in the years he'd used it.

Bruce rubbed his eyes wearily. "You aren't getting it. Dick Grayson, MY Dick Grayson was born on this Earth. We've found in the past that there are microscopic differences between matter in each of the universes that make up the multiverse. He wouldn't respond in exactly the same way to one of your drugs as someone born on your earth. I tell you, you've poisoned him!" Bruce made eye contact with Owlman, clearly trying to project sincerity. But Owlman wasn't fooled. The only cards Bruce had left were trickery if he ever wanted to let Dick Grayson out into the light of day again. He had to press for the antidote.

Owlman leaned back again and smiled. "I understand your affection for the boy. I've come to love him as well. Don't worry, he'll be well-cared for as my Talon. He'll become a very powerful and wealthy man one day." He closed his eyes, satisfied smile on his face. "His loyalties stay with me for the rest of his life. I do appreciate your dummying up a fine set of medical records. Even," he held up an MRI photograph. "an MRI scan. I am impressed but you must know that I have to believe that this is some kind of trick to force me to hand over the antagonist. On my Earth, Polythymene is like...like aspirin! It's effective and harmless. It's not more used by governments because it's so damned expensive to make and that's the only reason. No. I won't counteract my drug. Dick Grayson is mine!"

He heard Batman's breathing roughen and then a sigh. "Owlman...I'm not lying. This is God's own truth. Your drug will cause the following symptoms in Dick Grayson, and soon!: loss of muscle coordination and balance along with memory loss, slowly progressing into dementia. I am...begging you..."

Startled, Owlman opened his eyes to find the Dark Knight on his knees before him. "What...?"

"Please. You've implanted the memories. You have what you want. Give him the antagonist now. Then you can go. All of you. With Dick. All I ask of you is that you save his life. Once he starts showing symptoms, it will be too late; the brain damage will be permanent."

Owlman was silent with amazement. Batman was giving up? He was letting go? Owlman didn't believe Batman's offer for a moment, but he wasn't going to let this offer go to waste either. "You are willing to give me Dick Grayson with no strings attached? Why? What profit does this have for you?"

Batman smiled bitterly. "I don't operate that way. Dick Grayson is my son. I raised him and watched him become the man he is now and I'd rather slit my wrists than see him under the control of a criminal like you. But your damned drug is going to kill him very soon. It won't be an easy death, either." His voice caught on the last syllables before he grated out the rest. "I'd rather he be alive and happy under your control than watch his mind rot away before his body follows."

Owlman reflected that maybe this wasn't a trick after all. Still, he needed to be sure. "Very well. I will give him the antagonist, but only after you have released me, my butler and my new Talon and I am certain that we are beyond your interference. Will that do?" He held out his hand.

Batman eyed him steadily, his jaw working. "Do you swear by all that you consider holy that you will give him the antagonist?"

"You have my word of honor," Owlman replied, hand still out.

Batman clasped it and they shook hands on the deal.