Chapter 2

Barbara's quarters were situated right across the hall from Helena's and Dinah's; it went without saying that she too heard the commotion coming from Dinah's room.

Barbara – wearing black sweat pants and a dark blue nightshirt -- was sitting on the edge of the left side of her bed, her hands resting upon her knees. A small wooden desk sat just to the left of the bed; underneath the desk sat a small armless office chair with rollers on the legs.

"Lights!" Barbara called out to the room. An unseen voice-activated switch turned on the lights in the room.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in", said Barbara.

The door opened. A trembling Dinah – wearing a red nightshirt – entered first; Helena – wearing a black silk nightgown – followed right behind her.

"You wished to see me?" said Dinah softly.

Barbara grabbed the chair from underneath the desk and set it in front of herself.

"Sit down", she said as she gestured towards the chair. Dinah complied. Helena leaned a shoulder against the wall near the door. A clock hung on the wall directly behind Dinah.

"Helena told me you were having flashbacks", Barbara began. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry I woke you", said Dinah with tears in her eyes.

"What happened to you?"

"It's nothing", said Dinah, minimizing the situation.

Barbara gently caressed Dinah's cheek and wiped a tear away. "Whatever it was, it must've been traumatic", she said. "It's clearly something."

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"Try me."

Dinah sighed. "Do you remember when I told you that my parents … my foster parents…"

The ones who abused you, thought Barbara.

"… Do you remember my telling you that they threatened to send me to a place that would make my powers stronger?"

"Yes."

"The truth is … they did it. Once."

"When did this happen?"

"About three years ago."

When you were thirteen, Barbara thought as she made a quick mental calculation. "Tell me about it", she said.

"I'm sorry I woke you", Dinah apologized again, her voice quavering.

"Just so you know, I'm a very light sleeper... almost any sound will be enough to awaken me," said Barbara. "Ten years of street duty will do that to you", she said with a sigh.

"It wasn't uncommon for Batman to call me out to jobs at 2, 3 in the morning," Barbara continued. "You never knew when the phone was going to ring, so to speak."

"Guess old habits are hard to break", said Dinah with a shy smile.

"Now…" said Barbara as she changed the subject. "Back to my original question … what happened?"

"My … foster parents … put me in this government program … to make my powers stronger."

"If I may play Devil's Advocate for a moment, what makes you so sure that it was your parents who placed you in the program?"

"They clearly knew it existed. If I misbehaved ... which seemed to be all the time ... they would threaten to send me there."

"I dunno know how my parents found out about the program," Dinah continued. "Maybe they were recruited, maybe they saw an ad somewhere … I dunno."

"What makes you think it was a government program?"

"To tell you the truth, I dunno who was behind it or how they found me. I think it was a government program, I'm not sure. They had government connections, that's for sure."

"How?"

"I was in school. I was called down to the Principal's office one day. I saw these big men wearing business suits – one wore a blue suit, the other had a gray suit-- and ID tags on their pockets. They said they were FBI agents. Blue Suit put my hands behind my back, handcuffed me, and he and Gray Suit led me away."

"They took you away … just like that?"

Dinah closed her eyes, nodded, and opened them again. "Just like that", she said softly.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "And the school let them get away with it … Didn't they check their credentials?"

"It was a small town", said Dinah with a sigh. "I guess it never occurred to anyone to question Uncle Sam." She then cast her eyes downward. "I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"No, no, no … go on", said Barbara. "If anything, I'm having a problem believing them."

"Them?"

"The school."

"Oh. Anyway", Dinah continued. "They took me out to their car, put me in the back seat, and put something like a black pillowcase over my head. After that, we took off. I kept asking them where we were going but … they wouldn't tell me."

I'll bet dollars-to-donuts these two were fakes, Barbara thought. Fake FBI, at least. Pluck a 13-year-old kid out of school without an arrest warrant? Without even so much as charging her with a crime? I guess they figured the badges – God only knows where they got them -- would be intimidation enough.

Barbara shuddered. Turns out they guessed correctly, she thought.

The all-but-forgotten Helena crossed her arms and kept her position by the door, listening.

"We drove for a long time", Dinah continued. "We finally stopped. They opened the back door and dragged me out of the car. I could feel their hands under my armpits. When they finally took the pillowcase and handcuffs off, I was in this strange room; it had dark gray walls, fluorescent ceiling lights, and white linoleum tiles on the floor. There was also an easel, an IV setup, something that looked like an EKG machine -- it had this long strip of paper coming out of the top of it -- and a ... dentist's chair … for lack of a better term to describe it; it had straps coming out of the arm and leg rests. They put me in the chair and strapped my arms and legs down. Some guy in an orange jumpsuit came in and jammed an IV needle into my wrist. Another guy in an orange jumpsuit came in and started fiddling with the EKG machine … only it wasn't REALLY an EKG machine. I'm guessing that it was some kind of brain wave monitor; he began putting these electrodes on my forehead. After that, everyone left."

And to think they did this to a 13-year-old girl, Barbara thought. "Dinah, do you remember seeing any writing or patches on the man's jumpsuit? Something that would indicate the organization that he … and I presume, the others in the room as well … worked for?" she said.

Dinah shook her head. "No. They were all wearing ID badges, though … but they were standing several feet away from me; the type on them was too small for me to read at that distance."

Barbara pressed on. "What happened next?"

"As time went on, I began getting these terrible headaches. The closest thing I can compare it to is a migraine. A migraine from hell. I felt like my head was going to explode any minute!"

"That would explain the 'My head is killing me' line", interjected Helena.

"Anyway", said Dinah. "A couple more men in orange jumpsuits came into the room. There was this one skinny guy who wore glasses, had brown curly hair, and carried a clipboard – so I called him 'Clipboard'. It was then that I finally worked up the nerve to ask these people where I was."

"And their response…?"

"Clipboard told me that I was in some place called The Factory. No city, no state … just 'The Factory'" said Dinah, framing the words "The Factory" with her index and middle fingers.

"There was this other guy … young, beefy, blonde hair – I called him 'Crew-cut' because of his hair. He put a large pad on the easel. He flipped open the pad and showed me a series of numbers."

"What kind of numbers?"

"I think they were map coordinates or something … 43 north or something. They told me to describe what I saw at those coordinates."

"You're kidding," said Helena. Dinah shook her head – no.

"It sounds to me as if they were trying to conduct an experiment in remote viewing", said Barbara.

"You've lost me", said Helena to Barbara. "What's 'remote viewing'?"

"Essentially, it's just what Dinah's described … you give someone a set of map coordinates and then they tell you what they're seeing at that spot ... a tree, a building, a military base, an oil refinery, what have you. Uncle Sam has been trying to recruit psychics as spies since the 70's. Frankly", said Barbara as she turned her attention back to Dinah. "You're the youngest one I've ever seen."

"I couldn't do it", said Dinah. "I was in so much pain … my head was pounding, I couldn't focus. I kept telling THEM that ... kept telling them … they were hurting me." Tears began forming in her eyes. Dinah pinched the root of her nose. Helena walked over and put a comforting hand on Dinah's shoulder.

"What did they do to you when you said you were in pain?" said Barbara.

Dinah winced. "Crew-cut slapped me across the face", she said. "Called me all sorts of horrible names. It was then that my telepathy kicked in."

"Really?"

"I saw this image of a submarine base in my mind; it was like something out of a movie -- 5 … 6 submarines docked in port. Something inside me made me blurt out 'a sub base'."

"And?"

"Crew-cut seemed pleased. He walked back over to the easel and showed me a whole new set of numbers on the pad."

"What happened next?"

"At this point, I was fading in-and-out. The pain in my head was becoming unbearable. My vision began getting blurry. I could barely see what was in front my face … much less what was on the pad. I could just barely make out Crew-cut standing over me…" Dinah struggled with the words. Tears were forming in her eyes. "…And yelling 'Looks like the bitch needs a jump-start'!"

"Did he slap you again?"

Dinah nodded tearfully.

"What happened next?"

"Nothing … I passed out."