The new edition of the Gotham Gazette, Gotham City's much-reviled (and even-more-read) tabloid, landed on the monitor desk with a *thwap.*
Blinking at it, Diana realized that she was on the cover. The photographer had tripped the shutter just as her punch had lifted Bruce Wayne into the air. Inset was a smaller picture of the moment Bruce had grabbed her posterior: Diana's face was turned into the camera lens, and the shot had perfectly captured her look of ire.
The headline, in screaming type more suitable for a triple homicide or developments in a foreign war, read, BRUCIE, WILL YOU EVER LEARN?
"This is officially the greatest thing ever," Flash said.
"Jealous?" she said.
"Ha!" said Flash. "As if! Okay, only slightly. Tempered by the fact that you probably broke rich boy's jaw. I hope you know you're in for a Bat-lecture." Flash's voice deepened theatrically. "'You were in *my* city. Without permission. Now you're on the front page. Of *my* newspaper. But what really bothers me is, somebody raided my closet at the Watchtower, and in that picture you're wearing *my* evening gown.'"
"It's not my color," said a grim voice from behind Flash.
A red blur streaked across Diana's vision. When it cleared, Flash was gone, and Batman stood in his place.
"He had a point," said Diana. "It *was* your evening gown."
"Trust me," he said. "Wouldn't fit."
Diana almost laughed, before she remembered she was mad at him. Then she noticed that the left side of his jaw was purple and swollen. It couldn't be comfortable with the cowl. "How's your -- "
Batman brought his arm out from under his cape. He was holding a bouquet of long-stemmed roses.
Diana stared.
"My rear end can't possibly feel that wonderful," she said.
"Last night," he said, "ensured my cover for the next year and a half, minimum. That front page means parties I can skip out on. Debutantes I don't have to date. Time I can spend beating up criminals instead of acting like a dim-witted fop." He paused, then added, "And don't sell your rear end short."
Diana glared at him, but took the flowers. "I should hit you more often," she said. The roses smelled lovely.
"You could try."
"Tempting," Diana said. "Do I get to tie you up first?"
When he didn't say anything, she looked up from the roses, expecting a patented Bat-glare. Instead, he looked stunned. Diana made a note to remember the moment. She'd never seen Batman flabbergasted before. "It's a joke," she said. "Laugh."
He cleared his throat instead. "Any sign of the robot?" he said.
Back to business. Some things never changed.
"None," she said. "Kal's been flying across half of North America searching for it. I get in radio contact every so often to remind him to eat, sleep, or take a shower."
"That's good of you," he said. "But I don't think he's going to have much luck."
Batman reached over her shoulder and pressed several buttons on the console. A file opened on one of the smaller monitors.
"I've been tracking potential targets," he said. "Gold, jewels, cash. Art."
The level of detail was impressive. "You drew this up in the past few days?"
"No, I always do this," he said. "Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot, but super-criminals are obsessive and predictable. I find it's worth my time to have some idea of where they may strike next."
That explained the 'feline-related valuables' subheading. "And the robot stages a big heist to draw us out, makes an opportunity for its henchmen -- whose pay is a promise of the takings from the heist -- to get the drop on me, then escapes underwater," Diana said. "What were you looking for? Combination of value and mass, proximity to waterfront?"
That got half a smile out of him. "I'm impressed," he said. "You're turning into a detective."
"You're a bad influence," said Diana. She looked over the list. "There are some good probabilities here. Easy to recruit some henchmen for this kind of thing. Why hasn't it struck any of these?"
"I don't think it's going to try to draw us out anymore," Batman said. "We almost shut it down the last time. It's not going to come out on its own and hope to get lucky again."
Diana shook her head.
"What?" he said.
"I'm just trying to reconcile 'giant robot' with 'lucky,'" she said. "Think about it: why is somebody smart enough to break into one of Lex Luthor's secure hideouts and steal one or his prize toys following a plan that depends on a combination of dumb luck and us being too stupid to figure out what's going on?"
When Batman said nothing, Diana looked over at him. She'd seen the same look on Robin's face, when he coached her through a difficult tie. Now she knew where he'd gotten that from. "Go on," Batman said.
"There is no 'on,'" said Diana. "I just can't figure out why anyone went to the trouble of stealing the robot in the first place, just to tie me up and pummel me a bit. It's just a waste. I bet you could think of a dozen better ways to use my weakness against me. Or make me look bad."
"Yes," he said. "*I* could."
Diana rolled her eyes. "At least there's no bruise on your ego."
"I keep it well-maintained," he said. "But maybe it's some small consolation to know you're right."
Had she hit him harder than she thought? "Who are you?" she said. "What have you done with Batman?"
That got her a little mouth-quirk. "I should have realized it sooner," he said. "But I'm used to supervillains obsessing on me, even to the point of absurdity. It gives me a bit of a blind spot. I think you're right. The two halves of the scheme don't fit together."
"What does that mean?" said Diana. "Two perpetrators?"
Batman shook his head. "Stealing the robot took real skill," he said. "Nobody that good would put up with a partner so incompetent. We're looking for an amateur. Someone of limited skills. Not a professional criminal."
A thought occurred to Diana. "What if the theft was a paid job?"
"Then our enemy isn't skilled," said Batman. "And we've got a complete idiot on our hands."
"Why is that not reassuring?" Diana said.
"Because idiots are dangerous," he said. "But they're also vulnerable. And if you show them something bright and shiny, they grab it."
"I take that to mean you have a plan," she said.
"You *do* know me well," he said.
"Did you ever doubt it?" said Diana.
He smirked at her. "You get invitations," he said. "Requests to speak. To be interviewed. To sign autographs. Offers for personal appearances."
"Yes," said Diana. The entire League got those. Most of them were politely declined with a form letter, although Batman's were invariably shredded and dropped on Earth, to burn up in re-entry.
"Accept one."
Diana looked at him keenly. Something in his voice gave her a dark suspicion. "Why," she asked, "do I have the feeling that I already did?"
+++
"It is my great pleasure to be here at -- " Diana surreptitiously checked her notes " -- the opening of the Camden, New Jersey Monster Truck Arena -- " Note to self: kill Batman. " -- which I hope will give joy to citizens for many years to come."
Wild applause greeted her remarks. She scanned the next paragraph of her speech, but got only half-way through it when the flashbulbs from the army of press photographers turned her vision into a field of dancing spots. Fine; she'd wing it. She might even remember most of the remarks that had been prepared for her.
"This arena will be a home to four-by-four power. To tractor pulls, motocross, and the mighty Truckasaurus." Truckasaurus? Diana thought. A roar of engine noise caught her attention, and as the press corps turned its attention stage left, she saw a giant mechanical beast rear up on its hind legs and spit fire. Oh. "And also to the power of will, of muscle, and of bone. The riders of the rodeo, and the men and women who fit themselves in and around the steel of these fine machines -- the Monster Truck Arena is your Colosseum!"
The audience erupted again. Diana scanned the skyline, or what she could see of it. No sign of Luthor's robot. She hoped it was on its way. Personal appearances by Wonder Woman were rare events, and this one had been trumpeted in the newspapers, television, and radio, as happening SUNDAY -- SUNDAY -- SUNDAY. Alone, unprepared for battle, without visible back-up from the League -- only an idiot would pass this opportunity up.
Then again, maybe their opponent *was* an idiot.
And only an idiot speechwriter would give a Greek heroine a speech containing a Roman metaphor. Diana swept the pages aside and provided her own conclusion.
"I leave you with these words," said Diana. "Not everyone can be victorious in this arena. This was so in the Olympics of old; it is so even in the paradise of the Elysian Fields. But for those who do not attain the crown of olive leaves, there is yet consolation. Win, and you win glory for yourself -- lose well, and you bring glory to the Games!"
As Diana raised her arms and stepped back from the podium to more cheers, she caught a glimpse of something on one of the lighting rigs. At least Batman hadn't abandoned her. Or Superman -- Clark Kent was in the audience, somewhere. If the robot showed up, it wouldn't be expecting all of them. They'd have that much of an edge, at least. And advance knowledge. Supposedly, Bruce Wayne was looking into acquiring a local shipping company or three. He'd been in town several days, and hadn't spent one night in a hotel bar, or local nightclub, or even made a quick jaunt to Manhattan for an evening of nightclubbing with women far too young for him, Batman had told her -- not, she was amused to note, as reassurance, but boastfully, as if he'd lost a great deal of unwanted weight and was eager to share the news with everyone he met.
Diana's good humor had been tempered when he added that all the men he'd met had been more than usually eager to shake his hand.
Members of the crowd, with hands outstretched, pressed around the barricades lining her way off the stage. Diana shook as many as she could. It seemed the thing to do. One young man with a shock of reddish-blond hair caught her attention. "That was inspirational," he said reverently.
It was Flash, she realized. She'd never seen him in full-on civilian garb before. Especially not --
"You're wearing a Truckasaurus T-shirt?" said Diana.
"You're *not?*" he said. He raised his hand, which held another shirt. It looked about her size. "C'mon! It's Truckasaurus!"
Oh, what the hell, she thought, and put it on. The photographers were delighted, and the resulting flashbulbs blinded her entirely for a good minute. Diana found she was enjoying herself. The Monster Truck Arena was loud, and overblown, and it was a waste of manpower and preparations in laying this trap. But, thought Diana, it *was* fun.
And then the floor of the arena exploded.
Luthor's robot, shaking dirt off itself, emerged from the depths of its tunnel and charged into the center of the stadium. It flexed its limbs and turned from side to side. Looking, Diana realized, for her. The crowd roared its approval. Then the robot began to move toward the seating, and panic set in as people realized it wasn't part of the show.
Diana hadn't realized Batman had swung down from above until she turned to see him standing beside her. "I've activated the Javelin," he said.
"We can't fight the robot in the stadium," said Diana. "We'll have to lure it away. I thought it would hit me on the way out; I didn't think it would tunnel *in.*"
"Nobody did," said Superman. He hovered above her, tucking in his cape. "Diana and I will hit it high. Batman, get to the Javelin and have it ready. Flash -- "
"Look!" cried someone in the crowd.
Truckasaurus was on the move. Slowly, clumsily, it dragged itself across the arena floor. Luthor's robot stopped in its tracks and watched the smaller metal behemoth as Truckasaurus settled into position. Truckasaurus's metal jaws opened wide as the machine reared up on its hind legs to stand between the robot and the crowd.
"That's the bravest thing I've ever seen," said Flash.
Truckasaurus spat fire.
The robot's arm swept in a casual arc. The back of its hand hit Truckasaurus in the mouth with devastating force. Truckasaurus's mighty head was ripped away. The metal skull flew through the air and buried itself in one of the dirt hills set up in the arena floor.
"Truckasaurus!" cried Flash.
"Let it go," Batman said.
Truckasaurus fell, spewing oil and flame. The fire spread to the line of monster trucks and dirtbikes awaiting the inaugural lap of the arena.
"Er," said Superman. "Perhaps we should get the people out of the stadium."
The explosions began.
+++
The next few minutes were a blur of screams, panic, and violence.
With Superman at work containing the fires, Batman off to the Javelin, and Flash conducting the fastest mass evacuation in history, Diana was left to handle the robot. Now that she knew the robot's purpose, she was looking forward to it. The robot wouldn't kill her. It didn't plan to kill other people, or destroy any more property than it had to in a quest to make Diana look bad. Diana was free to do exactly what she wanted. And it felt *good.*
She stepped out into the arena and waved her arms. "Hey!" she called. The robot didn't hear her over the crowd. Diana ripped a tire loose from one of the burning monster trucks, twirled quickly, and hurled the tire like a discus. It beaned the robot in the temple. The massive head turned to regard Diana with its one good eye.
"Hi there," she said. "Remember me?"
The robot charged. So did Wonder Woman.
At the last instant, she planted her feet, then broke left, flying. The robot's hand missed her, barely. Staying low, she moved to its feet, where she pounded its ankle. No effect, so she moved up to the knee. There she met with more success. Her Amazonian strength produced very satisfying damage to the metal. If she could reduce its mobility, and hold it long enough for her teammates to add their weight, there was no question that she would win.
The robot lifted its foot to kick her away. That was what Diana had been waiting for. She moved under its foot, then heaved.
She wouldn't have been able to hold out against a stomping attack with the robot's full weight behind it, but she'd caught it off-guard. The robot clutched desperately at the air, trying to compensate, then overbalanced and toppled into a section of empty seats. It took out a chunk of concrete balcony along the way.
Wonder Woman didn't wait to press the advantage. She rose into the air and flew to the robot, which lay in a pile of rubble. If she could reach it before it recovered, she could end this now --
The fallen robot lifted its arm, and the six-barrelled laser cannon emerged.
Diana threw up her bracelets. The energy cascaded around her, and the world disappeared into a violet curtain. She couldn't keep up this defense for long: her bracelets might hold out, but her arms wouldn't. She could already feel the heat rising.
She flew up as quickly as she could, putting what remained of the second-tier balcony between herself and the robot. The lasers ripped into the concrete, sending another shower of debris onto her opponent. As the robot disappeared under concrete and dust, Diana realized that among the debris on the balcony was the monster truck tire she had thrown at the robot.
Diana grabbed the tire, flew toward the robot, and jammed the tire down over the barrels of the laser cannon. As soon as the robot realized she was there, it fired. The tire engaged with the robot's armor, preventing the gun from spinning. Only one barrel, the one on top, fired. Diana grabbed that barrel and bent the tip in a U.
The robot swatted her away, hard.
Wonder Woman flew across the arena and slammed into a dirt hill. She clawed herself free of the loose earth and wiped grit from her eyes. Her hand caught something solid, and she used it to lift herself to her feet. The robot, she realized, was using the concrete stairs of the arena to do the same. It regained its feet as she did, and for a strange moment the two combatants regarded each other. Then Diana saw what her hand was on, and realized she had a weapon.
Diana lifted the severed head of Truckasaurus. It was too awkward to throw easily, and she didn't want to take the time to deploy her lasso. She tossed the head up in the air, then flew back and up slightly as she swung her leg with all her strength.
Her drop-kick sent Truckasaurus's head whizzing through the air. With a crunch of rending metal, it put out the robot's remaining eye.
The robot reeled. It made a strange, grinding sound as its arms windmilled in space -- looking for her, looking for a support, she wasn't sure which -- to regain its balance. She thought it might freeze in place; she thought it might fall. She wasn't expecting it to lower its head and charge.
Diana realized it was on a collision course with the wall. Getting the robot out had been a good plan when thousands of spectators had been inside the arena. Not when they'd been evacuated to supposed safety outside. Diana had to stop it, but with its advantage in mass she might as well have tried to stop a rolling mountain. She tried anyway. The robot pushed her blindly aside and continued its headlong charge.
The stadium wall exploded out, and the robot staggered into the night. Diana followed it.
"Go!" Superman called after her. "I'm right behind you!" Diana caught a quick glimpse of him using his freezing breath to shut down one of the fires that had broken out among the cars. Then she was gone.
Diana launched herself into the air and soared over the parking lot. The robot already had reached the meadow beyond. Diana picked up a car the robot had left crushed in its wake and hurled it. Her aim was off, but good enough: the car hit the robot's knee, and Luthor's monster staggered. It threw out an arm to break its fall, and smashed a billboard reading COMING SOON -- MEADOWLARK WATERFRONT APARTMENTS! The robot got back to its feet and slowly staggered into the construction zone. Diana gritted her teeth and headed into the meadow, after it.
The communicator in Diana's ear buzzed. "I've got the Javelin," said Batman. "Control frequencies are jammed. Status?"
"Robot's still moving," said Diana. "I'm on it."
"I'm in the stadium," said Superman. "Everyone's evacuated, but there are still some fires below ground level." He paused. "Oh, no."
"What?" said Batman.
"X-ray vision. Fuel tanks. Under the ground. Basement level. Lots of them."
"Get out of there!" said Batman.
"I've got it!" said Superman. "I've got it!"
A massive explosion ripped through the night. The ground shook, and the concussive force was staggering, even to Diana. A vast pillar of smoke and flame rose into the air above the arena. The remaining arena walls directed the fireball upward, away from the people on the ground. But the arena shook under the strain. Then, as Diana watched from the far meadow, the first piece of concrete fell. Then another.
The arena collapsed on Superman.
"He don't got it," said a weak voice.
Flash, now in his uniform, was lying flat on his back in the grass.
"Are you all right?" Diana said.
"Hey," he said faintly, "*you* carry thirty thousand people out of a stadium and to a safe distance in less than two minutes and see how you feel."
Diana rested a hand on his forearm. "I have to go after it," she said.
"That's fine," Flash said. He could barely lift his head. The effort clearly had taxed even his super-fast metabolism beyond its ability to bear. Under her hand, his muscles were trembling from exhaustion. "I'm just gonna lie here for a minute."
As Diana raced off, she could hear him snoring.
"Ow," said Superman's voice in her ear. "It's okay. I'm all right. Just a little buried." He paused. "Er, can anybody tell me which way is up?"
Diana ignored him and ran.
The robot, blind as it was, was making its way through the construction zone toward the Delaware River beyond. Diana thought she glimpsed a man on one balcony, staring at the robot; he probably hadn't planned for this when he'd come to work late. She lifted into the air and cleared the beginning of the construction zone in time to see that the robot had almost reached the water. She wasn't going to make it in time --
Then the Javelin rose up from the waterline and loosed a barrage of missiles into the robot's head.
The robot staggered back. Its hands cleaved the air, frantically trying to intercept the League's shuttle. Its movements were clumsy, and its arms too short. It was a hair's breadth between escape and capture --
Diana keyed her communicator. "Hit the knee!" she yelled.
Batman did.
The robot fell.
It twisted as it collapsed, falling limply like a child's doll. Its arms, outstretched, fell to either side of one of the buildings, and its head and massive torso crashed partially through the wall. There it lay, its knees on the ground, its arms around the building, looking all the world like a drunk using a lamppost for support.
Diana pumped her fist in the air in celebration, and allowed herself a hoarse victory cheer. Then she keyed her communicator. "What kept you?" she said.
"Timing is everything," said Batman. "Go get him."
Wonder Woman didn't wait for him to set the Javelin down. She soared up to the robot's chest level, then powered her way through an adjacent building wall. The apartment inside was unfinished. It would be nice when construction was completed, but Wonder Woman was in no mood to spare the builders' work. She kicked a bedroom door off its hinges, smashed into a hallway, and found herself face-to-face with the crippled robot.
Its chest had smashed through the window at the end of a hallway, with apartments on either side. The slumping head had fallen through several more floors, and now its dead gaze stared at Wonder Woman through the hallway ceiling. She wasn't sure if the building could support the load, or for how long. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible.
She ripped the chestplate of the robot open.
There was no one inside.
Wonder Woman's jaw dropped. She took a reflexive step back. She wondered how -- it was impossible -- Batman had jammed the control frequencies --
Then a bolt of lightning hit her in the back.
Wonder Woman fell prone to the floor. She was dimly aware of the rope winding around her wrists -- dammit, not *again;* she tried to take advantage of Batman's lessons, but only remembered the simplest before a slap in the face jarred her back to reality. A powerful hand clenched around her throat and lifted her off the floor, and Diana looked, at last, into the face of her enemy.
And found it was one she recognized.
"*Zeus,*" she said. "I might have known."
"Yes," he said. "But you didn't. Makes you feel rather stupid, doesn't it?"
Blinking at it, Diana realized that she was on the cover. The photographer had tripped the shutter just as her punch had lifted Bruce Wayne into the air. Inset was a smaller picture of the moment Bruce had grabbed her posterior: Diana's face was turned into the camera lens, and the shot had perfectly captured her look of ire.
The headline, in screaming type more suitable for a triple homicide or developments in a foreign war, read, BRUCIE, WILL YOU EVER LEARN?
"This is officially the greatest thing ever," Flash said.
"Jealous?" she said.
"Ha!" said Flash. "As if! Okay, only slightly. Tempered by the fact that you probably broke rich boy's jaw. I hope you know you're in for a Bat-lecture." Flash's voice deepened theatrically. "'You were in *my* city. Without permission. Now you're on the front page. Of *my* newspaper. But what really bothers me is, somebody raided my closet at the Watchtower, and in that picture you're wearing *my* evening gown.'"
"It's not my color," said a grim voice from behind Flash.
A red blur streaked across Diana's vision. When it cleared, Flash was gone, and Batman stood in his place.
"He had a point," said Diana. "It *was* your evening gown."
"Trust me," he said. "Wouldn't fit."
Diana almost laughed, before she remembered she was mad at him. Then she noticed that the left side of his jaw was purple and swollen. It couldn't be comfortable with the cowl. "How's your -- "
Batman brought his arm out from under his cape. He was holding a bouquet of long-stemmed roses.
Diana stared.
"My rear end can't possibly feel that wonderful," she said.
"Last night," he said, "ensured my cover for the next year and a half, minimum. That front page means parties I can skip out on. Debutantes I don't have to date. Time I can spend beating up criminals instead of acting like a dim-witted fop." He paused, then added, "And don't sell your rear end short."
Diana glared at him, but took the flowers. "I should hit you more often," she said. The roses smelled lovely.
"You could try."
"Tempting," Diana said. "Do I get to tie you up first?"
When he didn't say anything, she looked up from the roses, expecting a patented Bat-glare. Instead, he looked stunned. Diana made a note to remember the moment. She'd never seen Batman flabbergasted before. "It's a joke," she said. "Laugh."
He cleared his throat instead. "Any sign of the robot?" he said.
Back to business. Some things never changed.
"None," she said. "Kal's been flying across half of North America searching for it. I get in radio contact every so often to remind him to eat, sleep, or take a shower."
"That's good of you," he said. "But I don't think he's going to have much luck."
Batman reached over her shoulder and pressed several buttons on the console. A file opened on one of the smaller monitors.
"I've been tracking potential targets," he said. "Gold, jewels, cash. Art."
The level of detail was impressive. "You drew this up in the past few days?"
"No, I always do this," he said. "Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot, but super-criminals are obsessive and predictable. I find it's worth my time to have some idea of where they may strike next."
That explained the 'feline-related valuables' subheading. "And the robot stages a big heist to draw us out, makes an opportunity for its henchmen -- whose pay is a promise of the takings from the heist -- to get the drop on me, then escapes underwater," Diana said. "What were you looking for? Combination of value and mass, proximity to waterfront?"
That got half a smile out of him. "I'm impressed," he said. "You're turning into a detective."
"You're a bad influence," said Diana. She looked over the list. "There are some good probabilities here. Easy to recruit some henchmen for this kind of thing. Why hasn't it struck any of these?"
"I don't think it's going to try to draw us out anymore," Batman said. "We almost shut it down the last time. It's not going to come out on its own and hope to get lucky again."
Diana shook her head.
"What?" he said.
"I'm just trying to reconcile 'giant robot' with 'lucky,'" she said. "Think about it: why is somebody smart enough to break into one of Lex Luthor's secure hideouts and steal one or his prize toys following a plan that depends on a combination of dumb luck and us being too stupid to figure out what's going on?"
When Batman said nothing, Diana looked over at him. She'd seen the same look on Robin's face, when he coached her through a difficult tie. Now she knew where he'd gotten that from. "Go on," Batman said.
"There is no 'on,'" said Diana. "I just can't figure out why anyone went to the trouble of stealing the robot in the first place, just to tie me up and pummel me a bit. It's just a waste. I bet you could think of a dozen better ways to use my weakness against me. Or make me look bad."
"Yes," he said. "*I* could."
Diana rolled her eyes. "At least there's no bruise on your ego."
"I keep it well-maintained," he said. "But maybe it's some small consolation to know you're right."
Had she hit him harder than she thought? "Who are you?" she said. "What have you done with Batman?"
That got her a little mouth-quirk. "I should have realized it sooner," he said. "But I'm used to supervillains obsessing on me, even to the point of absurdity. It gives me a bit of a blind spot. I think you're right. The two halves of the scheme don't fit together."
"What does that mean?" said Diana. "Two perpetrators?"
Batman shook his head. "Stealing the robot took real skill," he said. "Nobody that good would put up with a partner so incompetent. We're looking for an amateur. Someone of limited skills. Not a professional criminal."
A thought occurred to Diana. "What if the theft was a paid job?"
"Then our enemy isn't skilled," said Batman. "And we've got a complete idiot on our hands."
"Why is that not reassuring?" Diana said.
"Because idiots are dangerous," he said. "But they're also vulnerable. And if you show them something bright and shiny, they grab it."
"I take that to mean you have a plan," she said.
"You *do* know me well," he said.
"Did you ever doubt it?" said Diana.
He smirked at her. "You get invitations," he said. "Requests to speak. To be interviewed. To sign autographs. Offers for personal appearances."
"Yes," said Diana. The entire League got those. Most of them were politely declined with a form letter, although Batman's were invariably shredded and dropped on Earth, to burn up in re-entry.
"Accept one."
Diana looked at him keenly. Something in his voice gave her a dark suspicion. "Why," she asked, "do I have the feeling that I already did?"
+++
"It is my great pleasure to be here at -- " Diana surreptitiously checked her notes " -- the opening of the Camden, New Jersey Monster Truck Arena -- " Note to self: kill Batman. " -- which I hope will give joy to citizens for many years to come."
Wild applause greeted her remarks. She scanned the next paragraph of her speech, but got only half-way through it when the flashbulbs from the army of press photographers turned her vision into a field of dancing spots. Fine; she'd wing it. She might even remember most of the remarks that had been prepared for her.
"This arena will be a home to four-by-four power. To tractor pulls, motocross, and the mighty Truckasaurus." Truckasaurus? Diana thought. A roar of engine noise caught her attention, and as the press corps turned its attention stage left, she saw a giant mechanical beast rear up on its hind legs and spit fire. Oh. "And also to the power of will, of muscle, and of bone. The riders of the rodeo, and the men and women who fit themselves in and around the steel of these fine machines -- the Monster Truck Arena is your Colosseum!"
The audience erupted again. Diana scanned the skyline, or what she could see of it. No sign of Luthor's robot. She hoped it was on its way. Personal appearances by Wonder Woman were rare events, and this one had been trumpeted in the newspapers, television, and radio, as happening SUNDAY -- SUNDAY -- SUNDAY. Alone, unprepared for battle, without visible back-up from the League -- only an idiot would pass this opportunity up.
Then again, maybe their opponent *was* an idiot.
And only an idiot speechwriter would give a Greek heroine a speech containing a Roman metaphor. Diana swept the pages aside and provided her own conclusion.
"I leave you with these words," said Diana. "Not everyone can be victorious in this arena. This was so in the Olympics of old; it is so even in the paradise of the Elysian Fields. But for those who do not attain the crown of olive leaves, there is yet consolation. Win, and you win glory for yourself -- lose well, and you bring glory to the Games!"
As Diana raised her arms and stepped back from the podium to more cheers, she caught a glimpse of something on one of the lighting rigs. At least Batman hadn't abandoned her. Or Superman -- Clark Kent was in the audience, somewhere. If the robot showed up, it wouldn't be expecting all of them. They'd have that much of an edge, at least. And advance knowledge. Supposedly, Bruce Wayne was looking into acquiring a local shipping company or three. He'd been in town several days, and hadn't spent one night in a hotel bar, or local nightclub, or even made a quick jaunt to Manhattan for an evening of nightclubbing with women far too young for him, Batman had told her -- not, she was amused to note, as reassurance, but boastfully, as if he'd lost a great deal of unwanted weight and was eager to share the news with everyone he met.
Diana's good humor had been tempered when he added that all the men he'd met had been more than usually eager to shake his hand.
Members of the crowd, with hands outstretched, pressed around the barricades lining her way off the stage. Diana shook as many as she could. It seemed the thing to do. One young man with a shock of reddish-blond hair caught her attention. "That was inspirational," he said reverently.
It was Flash, she realized. She'd never seen him in full-on civilian garb before. Especially not --
"You're wearing a Truckasaurus T-shirt?" said Diana.
"You're *not?*" he said. He raised his hand, which held another shirt. It looked about her size. "C'mon! It's Truckasaurus!"
Oh, what the hell, she thought, and put it on. The photographers were delighted, and the resulting flashbulbs blinded her entirely for a good minute. Diana found she was enjoying herself. The Monster Truck Arena was loud, and overblown, and it was a waste of manpower and preparations in laying this trap. But, thought Diana, it *was* fun.
And then the floor of the arena exploded.
Luthor's robot, shaking dirt off itself, emerged from the depths of its tunnel and charged into the center of the stadium. It flexed its limbs and turned from side to side. Looking, Diana realized, for her. The crowd roared its approval. Then the robot began to move toward the seating, and panic set in as people realized it wasn't part of the show.
Diana hadn't realized Batman had swung down from above until she turned to see him standing beside her. "I've activated the Javelin," he said.
"We can't fight the robot in the stadium," said Diana. "We'll have to lure it away. I thought it would hit me on the way out; I didn't think it would tunnel *in.*"
"Nobody did," said Superman. He hovered above her, tucking in his cape. "Diana and I will hit it high. Batman, get to the Javelin and have it ready. Flash -- "
"Look!" cried someone in the crowd.
Truckasaurus was on the move. Slowly, clumsily, it dragged itself across the arena floor. Luthor's robot stopped in its tracks and watched the smaller metal behemoth as Truckasaurus settled into position. Truckasaurus's metal jaws opened wide as the machine reared up on its hind legs to stand between the robot and the crowd.
"That's the bravest thing I've ever seen," said Flash.
Truckasaurus spat fire.
The robot's arm swept in a casual arc. The back of its hand hit Truckasaurus in the mouth with devastating force. Truckasaurus's mighty head was ripped away. The metal skull flew through the air and buried itself in one of the dirt hills set up in the arena floor.
"Truckasaurus!" cried Flash.
"Let it go," Batman said.
Truckasaurus fell, spewing oil and flame. The fire spread to the line of monster trucks and dirtbikes awaiting the inaugural lap of the arena.
"Er," said Superman. "Perhaps we should get the people out of the stadium."
The explosions began.
+++
The next few minutes were a blur of screams, panic, and violence.
With Superman at work containing the fires, Batman off to the Javelin, and Flash conducting the fastest mass evacuation in history, Diana was left to handle the robot. Now that she knew the robot's purpose, she was looking forward to it. The robot wouldn't kill her. It didn't plan to kill other people, or destroy any more property than it had to in a quest to make Diana look bad. Diana was free to do exactly what she wanted. And it felt *good.*
She stepped out into the arena and waved her arms. "Hey!" she called. The robot didn't hear her over the crowd. Diana ripped a tire loose from one of the burning monster trucks, twirled quickly, and hurled the tire like a discus. It beaned the robot in the temple. The massive head turned to regard Diana with its one good eye.
"Hi there," she said. "Remember me?"
The robot charged. So did Wonder Woman.
At the last instant, she planted her feet, then broke left, flying. The robot's hand missed her, barely. Staying low, she moved to its feet, where she pounded its ankle. No effect, so she moved up to the knee. There she met with more success. Her Amazonian strength produced very satisfying damage to the metal. If she could reduce its mobility, and hold it long enough for her teammates to add their weight, there was no question that she would win.
The robot lifted its foot to kick her away. That was what Diana had been waiting for. She moved under its foot, then heaved.
She wouldn't have been able to hold out against a stomping attack with the robot's full weight behind it, but she'd caught it off-guard. The robot clutched desperately at the air, trying to compensate, then overbalanced and toppled into a section of empty seats. It took out a chunk of concrete balcony along the way.
Wonder Woman didn't wait to press the advantage. She rose into the air and flew to the robot, which lay in a pile of rubble. If she could reach it before it recovered, she could end this now --
The fallen robot lifted its arm, and the six-barrelled laser cannon emerged.
Diana threw up her bracelets. The energy cascaded around her, and the world disappeared into a violet curtain. She couldn't keep up this defense for long: her bracelets might hold out, but her arms wouldn't. She could already feel the heat rising.
She flew up as quickly as she could, putting what remained of the second-tier balcony between herself and the robot. The lasers ripped into the concrete, sending another shower of debris onto her opponent. As the robot disappeared under concrete and dust, Diana realized that among the debris on the balcony was the monster truck tire she had thrown at the robot.
Diana grabbed the tire, flew toward the robot, and jammed the tire down over the barrels of the laser cannon. As soon as the robot realized she was there, it fired. The tire engaged with the robot's armor, preventing the gun from spinning. Only one barrel, the one on top, fired. Diana grabbed that barrel and bent the tip in a U.
The robot swatted her away, hard.
Wonder Woman flew across the arena and slammed into a dirt hill. She clawed herself free of the loose earth and wiped grit from her eyes. Her hand caught something solid, and she used it to lift herself to her feet. The robot, she realized, was using the concrete stairs of the arena to do the same. It regained its feet as she did, and for a strange moment the two combatants regarded each other. Then Diana saw what her hand was on, and realized she had a weapon.
Diana lifted the severed head of Truckasaurus. It was too awkward to throw easily, and she didn't want to take the time to deploy her lasso. She tossed the head up in the air, then flew back and up slightly as she swung her leg with all her strength.
Her drop-kick sent Truckasaurus's head whizzing through the air. With a crunch of rending metal, it put out the robot's remaining eye.
The robot reeled. It made a strange, grinding sound as its arms windmilled in space -- looking for her, looking for a support, she wasn't sure which -- to regain its balance. She thought it might freeze in place; she thought it might fall. She wasn't expecting it to lower its head and charge.
Diana realized it was on a collision course with the wall. Getting the robot out had been a good plan when thousands of spectators had been inside the arena. Not when they'd been evacuated to supposed safety outside. Diana had to stop it, but with its advantage in mass she might as well have tried to stop a rolling mountain. She tried anyway. The robot pushed her blindly aside and continued its headlong charge.
The stadium wall exploded out, and the robot staggered into the night. Diana followed it.
"Go!" Superman called after her. "I'm right behind you!" Diana caught a quick glimpse of him using his freezing breath to shut down one of the fires that had broken out among the cars. Then she was gone.
Diana launched herself into the air and soared over the parking lot. The robot already had reached the meadow beyond. Diana picked up a car the robot had left crushed in its wake and hurled it. Her aim was off, but good enough: the car hit the robot's knee, and Luthor's monster staggered. It threw out an arm to break its fall, and smashed a billboard reading COMING SOON -- MEADOWLARK WATERFRONT APARTMENTS! The robot got back to its feet and slowly staggered into the construction zone. Diana gritted her teeth and headed into the meadow, after it.
The communicator in Diana's ear buzzed. "I've got the Javelin," said Batman. "Control frequencies are jammed. Status?"
"Robot's still moving," said Diana. "I'm on it."
"I'm in the stadium," said Superman. "Everyone's evacuated, but there are still some fires below ground level." He paused. "Oh, no."
"What?" said Batman.
"X-ray vision. Fuel tanks. Under the ground. Basement level. Lots of them."
"Get out of there!" said Batman.
"I've got it!" said Superman. "I've got it!"
A massive explosion ripped through the night. The ground shook, and the concussive force was staggering, even to Diana. A vast pillar of smoke and flame rose into the air above the arena. The remaining arena walls directed the fireball upward, away from the people on the ground. But the arena shook under the strain. Then, as Diana watched from the far meadow, the first piece of concrete fell. Then another.
The arena collapsed on Superman.
"He don't got it," said a weak voice.
Flash, now in his uniform, was lying flat on his back in the grass.
"Are you all right?" Diana said.
"Hey," he said faintly, "*you* carry thirty thousand people out of a stadium and to a safe distance in less than two minutes and see how you feel."
Diana rested a hand on his forearm. "I have to go after it," she said.
"That's fine," Flash said. He could barely lift his head. The effort clearly had taxed even his super-fast metabolism beyond its ability to bear. Under her hand, his muscles were trembling from exhaustion. "I'm just gonna lie here for a minute."
As Diana raced off, she could hear him snoring.
"Ow," said Superman's voice in her ear. "It's okay. I'm all right. Just a little buried." He paused. "Er, can anybody tell me which way is up?"
Diana ignored him and ran.
The robot, blind as it was, was making its way through the construction zone toward the Delaware River beyond. Diana thought she glimpsed a man on one balcony, staring at the robot; he probably hadn't planned for this when he'd come to work late. She lifted into the air and cleared the beginning of the construction zone in time to see that the robot had almost reached the water. She wasn't going to make it in time --
Then the Javelin rose up from the waterline and loosed a barrage of missiles into the robot's head.
The robot staggered back. Its hands cleaved the air, frantically trying to intercept the League's shuttle. Its movements were clumsy, and its arms too short. It was a hair's breadth between escape and capture --
Diana keyed her communicator. "Hit the knee!" she yelled.
Batman did.
The robot fell.
It twisted as it collapsed, falling limply like a child's doll. Its arms, outstretched, fell to either side of one of the buildings, and its head and massive torso crashed partially through the wall. There it lay, its knees on the ground, its arms around the building, looking all the world like a drunk using a lamppost for support.
Diana pumped her fist in the air in celebration, and allowed herself a hoarse victory cheer. Then she keyed her communicator. "What kept you?" she said.
"Timing is everything," said Batman. "Go get him."
Wonder Woman didn't wait for him to set the Javelin down. She soared up to the robot's chest level, then powered her way through an adjacent building wall. The apartment inside was unfinished. It would be nice when construction was completed, but Wonder Woman was in no mood to spare the builders' work. She kicked a bedroom door off its hinges, smashed into a hallway, and found herself face-to-face with the crippled robot.
Its chest had smashed through the window at the end of a hallway, with apartments on either side. The slumping head had fallen through several more floors, and now its dead gaze stared at Wonder Woman through the hallway ceiling. She wasn't sure if the building could support the load, or for how long. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible.
She ripped the chestplate of the robot open.
There was no one inside.
Wonder Woman's jaw dropped. She took a reflexive step back. She wondered how -- it was impossible -- Batman had jammed the control frequencies --
Then a bolt of lightning hit her in the back.
Wonder Woman fell prone to the floor. She was dimly aware of the rope winding around her wrists -- dammit, not *again;* she tried to take advantage of Batman's lessons, but only remembered the simplest before a slap in the face jarred her back to reality. A powerful hand clenched around her throat and lifted her off the floor, and Diana looked, at last, into the face of her enemy.
And found it was one she recognized.
"*Zeus,*" she said. "I might have known."
"Yes," he said. "But you didn't. Makes you feel rather stupid, doesn't it?"