Nightwing/Dick Grayson, Batman/Bruce Wayne, and Oracle/Barbara Gordon belong to DC Comics/Time Warner.
Tony Newman, Doug Phillips, and Ann MacGregor belong to Irwin Allen Productions.
I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Gaby, Rick, Norman, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Crude language; violence; sexual references.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
"Alex, we need the medical equipment." Jen knelt next to Dr. Zaskin. He was still bleeding badly from a slash in his thigh. Gaby was less severely injured, but the deep scratches in her shoulder would also require treatment.
"Give me a minute."
The ship dropped rapidly over the beach and settled onto the sand. Jen glanced up to see the viewscreen showing dusky evening light. In another moment Alex had shut down the engines, crossed to the equipment racks, and was next to her, holding the ship's medical unit. He quickly set it up, ripping Zaskin's pants leg open and attaching the leads to his skin on both sides of the wound. They all watched as the bleeding stopped and the gash began slowly to close.
"Who are you?" Rick asked, finally looking up at Alex.
He shrugged. "A friend of Jen's."
"What are you, Wes's twin or something?"
Alex's brows contracted, in annoyance, Jen knew. "No."
"You're from the future, aren't you?"
Alex gave Jen a quick glance. She smiled. "No, I didn't tell him, but he knows. In fact, Rick is the one who built the timehole generator that got us into the past."
"Time travel isn't supposed to be invented for another hundred years."
"He knew some time travel technology from an unsuccessful government project that we didn't know about, and he based his machine on what he learned from examining the wreckage of our timeship."
Alex looked at Rick again with more interest. "You did? Very smart. Of course -- now you know too much. We'll have to kill you."
"What?" Rick looked at Jen with alarm. "He's kidding, isn't he?"
"I don't know, Rick. Alex doesn't have a sense of humor. I think he means it."
He looked so frightened that she started to giggle. It grew into a laugh, all of them joining in, as much out of relief as the actual humor of the situation. As they quieted down Alex disconnected the medical unit, beckoned to Gaby, and attached it to her shoulder.
"What do you mean, I don't have a sense of humor?" he said softly with a glance at Jen, giving her a smile.
"You're improving." She smiled in return. "Is Wes all right? How's he holding up? Too bad he couldn't come with you."
To her surprise and alarm, his face quickly became serious, even grim. "I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said.
Nightwing got up from the bench where he had been sitting as Alex led the little procession into the Bio-Lab laboratory. He looked them over as they filed in and found seats. Gaby and Dr. Zaskin were impressively bloodstained and all of them looked tired and worn, but determined.
Alan Collins had also gotten the news of his people's return. He stepped up to Jen and hugged her, smiling. "So glad you're back. And that you're all right," he murmured.
"I'm fine. And it's good to see you, too." A smile broke through the tension on her face. "Don't worry, we'll find Wes and Eric."
Collins turned to Alex. "Have you had any luck tracing the second timehole?"
"I'm afraid not." He took a step closer to where Rick was sitting. "Rick? It's your invention. Do you know where it sent them?"
Rick shifted nervously. "The thing is, I don't know what happened. My detector found a time location for Tony Newman and Doug Phillips…" He gave them a brief description of his attempt to rescue two scientists who had been stranded in time as a result of a secret government attempt to build a time machine in 1968.
"My machine was supposed to take me to them, give me a few minutes, and then bring us back. It transported us, but apparently to the wrong time, since Tony and Doug weren't there. And I guess instead of bringing us back, for some reason it sent Wes and Eric through time, too. But I don't know what went wrong. Probably the fact that it wasn't set up for four people. Maybe it overloaded. Without examining the machine, I can't tell what it did."
"If it overloaded, that could explain why I could trace the first transport. It had a stronger signal," Alex said.
"Could also explain why it took us to the wrong time. But it might not have been off by much. Maybe Tony and Doug are in the late Cretaceous, about sixty-five to seventy million years ago, about the same time we were in."
"So maybe the second timehole went to the right time?"
Rick's face was both thoughtful and hopeful. "If it overloaded, it might have recycled automatically and restarted the transport. I think you're right, it took them to where Tony and Doug are. And then it didn't have enough power to bring them back."
"Do you have the exact time location?"
"No… I got the readings, but I couldn't figure out exactly what they meant, just fed them into the time machine. But the detector should be right here…" He got up and moved to the back of the laboratory, near where the timehole generator had been, muttering softly as he searched through piles of equipment and machinery that had been thrown around in the attack.
"Good, we're getting somewhere," Alex said. "Nightwing, do you have anything?"
"Afraid not. Steve and I went back to Norman Ryder's house. Didn't find anything definite, but..." He paused for a moment, frowning. "There was no machinery there that could have manufactured all those cyclobots. He must have another place, a factory where he made them. If we can find that, maybe we can find him and that time machine."
"Do you think you have any way to do that?"
"I have resources I can call on." He turned to face Gaby. "You're the computer security expert. It looked like Norman loaded a diskette into a workstation after the attack here. Bio-Lab's network people are looking into it, but…"
"But I should get on it too. Right away."
"If you're up to it."
"I'm fine. I just want to help."
"Good," Alex said. He turned to look at Rick. "Did you find it?"
"Yes," Rick answered, looking up from the instrument he was bent over. "It's broken. Going to take a while to fix it and get that reading."
"Will you stay and work on it?"
"Of course. I just need to call my parents first, let them know I'm all right."
"I'll help you," Jen said.
"And so will I," Alex added. "All right. I suggest the rest of you get some rest."
After an exchange of nods, Nightwing was on his way out. He had an idea. He smiled, picturing Barbara in her headquarters, surrounded by her computers and equipment, connected to cyberspace all over the globe. In a moment, she could be talking to someone halfway around the world, looking through a database in some obscure corner of another country...
When she could no longer function as Batgirl, she had found a new way to fight crime, using technology, connections, and knowledge. It made her feel free, feel powerful again, and made her extremely useful to crimefighters who needed information. Like he did, now. Time to call in Oracle's unique talents.
Gaby walked into her office and sat down with a sigh. She had stopped off in the Silver Guardians' barracks for a quick and badly needed shower and changed her ruined shirt for a baggy old sweater she kept in her office. The rest of her clothes were still dirty, smelly, and bloody, and she was tired, and aching from spending a night sleeping on a dirt floor. At least she had found her purse, where she had dropped it in the lab during the fight, so she could get into her car and apartment. But clean clothes and a comfortable bed, even a square meal, would have to wait. There was just a faint chance that whatever Norman had done to the network would lead back to him.
The brief vision of Eric, stranded and alone, rose in her mind. He always seemed so strong, so tough, but she had seen the vulnerable side, knew he could be hurt like anyone else. With an effort, she shook off the mood. Eric wasn't alone, Wes was with him. They were both Rangers, they could take care of themselves.
Better to do something, keep busy, than waste time worrying. Soothed by the familiar surroundings and the familiar task, she logged on to the network and began to search for signs of intrusion, altered files, unexplained traffic. The network people had found a virus they thought Norman had left, but they might have missed something.
For a moment she frowned. Norman. It had been a shock when Alex told them he was the man who had built the cyclobots and attacked Bio-Lab. She remembered him, not a bad guy, not bad looking either, but -- creepy somehow, withdrawn, unfriendly. She had occasionally caught him staring at her, the way a starving wolf would look at a juicy steak... Then he had disappeared, and she had heard he had had an argument with Mike Zaskin and left.
He had been a biochemist specializing in the computer modeling of drug reactions, and also had a degree in engineering, Zaskin had told them. A genius, certainly, especially if he had really figured out a way to duplicate the cyclobots. But what was he after?
It took several hours, and she was yawning and bleary-eyed when she found it. An inconspicuous worm, hiding in the network servers, monitoring communications and reporting back to an unidentified IP address. It had to be him, it had been planted at the time of the attack. She smiled as she copied the address, fingers moving over the keyboard a moment later to delete the worm.
A phone call started the process of tracing that address, but she knew it would take time, and perhaps lead nowhere. At any rate, nothing would happen before morning. Time to go home, change clothes, catch a couple of hours of sleep, get back early and see if she could find anything more. With a few quick movements, she logged out and started to get ready to leave.
So, you're back. And you found it. Clever girl. Norman smiled at his computer monitor. He was glad they were back, or at least that she was. The little program he had left behind at Bio-Lab had been very helpful, sending him information from the Silver Guardians' email and work logs. It had told him that they knew who he was. He frowned at that thought.
Fools. They would never have known, if that Nightwing character hadn't seen his face. Now his secret identity was gone. He was forced to hide here, like a fugitive. But not necessarily alone. A smile crossed his face again. The worm he had planted had alerted him to Gaby's presence on the network, and had sent its final packet telling him that she had deleted it. She would be going home soon -- it was late and no one would be around -- if he hurried, he could have a little surprise for her.
"Babs?" Dick got up and moved a few restless steps across his hotel room. It was late, and quiet, the kind of quiet that set his nerves on edge. It was even later in Gotham, but it didn't surprise him that Barbara was still up. She had become a creature of the night, even more than Bruce or himself.
"Dick. I'm glad to hear from you." The familiar soft voice was deliberately casual, but Dick could hear eagerness and concern underneath.
"Yeah, me too. Glad I got you."
"What's up? Have you found anything?"
"We got four of the missing people back, including one of the Rangers."
"That's great. Good work."
"I had nothing to do with it. Believe it or not, another Ranger showed up. Just sort of walked in and took over." He laughed. "Reminds me of Bruce a little."
Barbara ignored the remark. "Where did he come from?"
"Same place as the original five. Tell you all about it later. Anyway, I've been trying to track down the guy who attacked Bio-Lab. No luck so far."
"Hmm. You'll find something soon."
"That's why I'm calling." Dick drew in a breath. "I need Oracle's help."
"Name it."
"The guy we're after. His name is Norman Ryder. He inherited a lot of money from his grandfather. Millions, I think. I was in his house, there's no way he manufactured all those robots there, he must have another place, big enough to be a factory, but I can't find any record of him owning more property. Think you could poke around, see if you can find anything?"
"Norman Ryder." He felt a slight hesitation from her. "If he's rich... Dick, Bruce moves in those circles. Is it okay if I involve him?"
He sighed. "Whatever it takes."
"I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
"Okay. Thanks, Babs."
"Don't thank me yet."
There was an awkward pause before Dick spoke again. "I'd better get some sleep while I have the chance. Talk to you later."
"All right. Keep in touch."
"You too. Miss you." He touched the phone gently with his fingertips. "Love you."
"I love you."
It was true, he missed her, with a sudden aching intensity. He stared at the phone for a moment after hanging up. Then, with a sigh, he turned away from the window and peeled his shirt over his head. A few minutes later he was lying in bed, staring into the darkness before firmly closing his eyes.
It was dark, the fire dying down, casting a few flickering shadows across the cave roof. Eric stirred restlessly, suddenly flushing with heat. He raised a hand to wipe sweat from his face and pushed himself to a sitting position. It was an effort. He bent his head, a wave of dizziness sending spots dancing before his eyes.
"Eric?" Wes was awake, peering at him groggily.
"Go back to sleep."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I want some water." Eric stiffly heaved himself to his knees and climbed to his feet. The dizziness returned, making him unsteady. He reached out to brace himself against a boulder, gasping despite himself as his wounded arm contacted the stone.
"Eric, lie down. I'll get some water for you." Wes was up, holding his good arm, pulling him back to the ground, his face pinched with concern.
"I can do it myself..."
"Just shut up and lie down." Wes smiled as Eric blinked in surprise, then left him and went to the small stream that flowed through another part of the cave. In moments he was back, carrying their wooden 'cup'. He sat beside Eric, steadied him with an arm around his shoulders, and held the cup for him.
"I can hold it myself, thank you," Eric said sharply.
"All right." Wes gave it to him, watched him drink, and took it back. He eased Eric down again. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Like shit." It was true, he was weak, lightheaded, and he could feel the fever burning inside him. The pain in his arm was getting so bad that only exhaustion let him sleep. Abruptly he shivered, the heat turning to chills.
"The fire's burning down. I'll take care of it," Tony's voice said from the other side of the fireplace. Eric saw him get up and move to their small pile of wood. Doug was up too, watching, his face almost as concerned as Wes's.
"I'm all right..." Eric said. The fire brightened, warmth reaching out to him as his eyes drifted shut again.
He heard the others moving around, and heard their voices murmuring softly.
"Isn't there anything we can do?"
"I'm afraid not. No medicine, and none of us is a doctor."
"Just try to make him comfortable."
No need to whisper, he wanted to say as he sank towards sleep, I know when I'm dying.
Gaby paused at the laboratory door, watching for a few seconds before she went in. Three heads bent over a pile of equipment and tools. All so intent they didn't notice her until she was only a few steps away. Rick looked up and smiled.
"Hi," she said. "How's it coming?"
"Not bad. We should be done in a few more hours."
"You look tired."
"We can't stop now."
Jen straightened and stretched. "We want to get Wes and Eric back as soon as possible."
"Believe me, I want Eric back, too. Anything I can do to help?"
"No. We've got it covered." They were concentrating on their task again, not looking at her.
"Okay. I'm going home now. I'll be back early. Good luck."
"Bye," Rick said absently.
With a smile -- which none of them saw -- Gaby turned away and headed out of the lab, and to the front door, signing out and nodding to the security guard. When she got outside she paused for a moment, remembering how late it was, well after midnight. The darkness and silence sent a quiver of uneasiness through her, and for a moment she considered going back, getting someone to walk her to her car. But the guard wasn't allowed to leave his post. Rick and Jen were busy, Alex intimidated her, and she didn't want to interrupt them anyway.
She set out through the almost empty parking lot, listening to her footsteps click along the pavement. Night lamps cast stark shadows around her, the air seemed thin and chill. A gust of wind lifted her hair. And then a shadowy form stepped out from behind a van into her path.
A man, average height, average build. Pale skin. The light seemed to glint off his hair in a silvery shimmer. His face was shadowed, but she could see him smile, an expression that chilled her to the bone. She stopped and hesitated uncertainly, watching him approach a step closer.
"Hello, Gaby," he said, his voice ordinary, but a thread of menace woven under its surface.
"Who are you?" Her own voice trembled more than she liked.
"Don't you remember me? I'm hurt." He stepped closer still, turning so his face was illuminated.
"Norman?" She stared. It was Norman. But different, and not just his manner. In the bright light, his hair was a startling, metallic silver, with an iridescent purplish sheen. His skin was a pale violet, and his eyes -- they were worst of all, gleaming, reflective silver, almost seeming to glow with a malevolent intensity. "What -- what have you done to yourself?" she gasped without thinking.
"There have been a few changes." He smiled again and stepped closer. "I've come for you, Gaby. It's time for us to be together."
She backed away, but it was too late. With a swift movement -- too swift, it occurred to her -- he was on her, grabbing her arms. Quickly he dragged her toward the van. A movement caught her eyes, and she saw two cyclobots come out into the open and start for them.
She tried to yank away, but he was strong -- too strong -- remembering the martial arts lessons Eric had given her, she kicked at him and then stamped on his foot, and had the momentary satisfaction of seeing him wince.
"Stop that!" he snarled, tightening his grip painfully. The cyclobots moved in and metal arms reached for her. Too late, she screamed, only one cry ringing through the empty lot before a robot hand clamped over her mouth. Caught in bands of steel, she struggled in vain as she was lifted and dumped into the van.
TBC...
