I:
Rick thought it quite likely that he could have enlisted one of the complex's numerous support personnel to do the chore in which he was now engaged, but as his first sifu had told him: "If you would have a task done wrongly, let another do it for you."
Besides, setting the file folders on the U-shaped table where the others would soon be sitting wasn't that much of a chore. And it kept his attention focused on the task at hand, rather than allowing him to concern himself with the anxiety he was beginning to feel.
He'd never done anything like this before.
He shook his head. Yes, he had done things like this before. Giving a briefing was a task he'd managed dozens of times, and it was a bit much to suggest that a person who dressed in a costume and fought crime in public suffered from stage fright. And he'd led a team on missions. He'd been highly decorated for doing so, actually.
So what about this should be so conducive to anxiety.
"Good morning," Lorraine said from behind him.
He turned around to face her. "You're up early," he commented. In fact, he wasn't sure if she'd actually slept at all; he wasn't sure if she ever slept.
"It's the big day, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically. Considering Rick for a moment, she added, "There's nothing to be anxious about. I'm sure that you'll do this as exceptionally as you do most other things."
"Thank you --"
"As long as you just do as you're told, rather than improvising."
Rick chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Yes. About that, I've been wondering --"
"She escaped, of course," Lorraine answered. "Before the vehicle transporting her had gotten more than a few blocks from the crime scene. She killed all four of the officers accompanying her, of course. And her wherabouts are currently unknown."
He closed his eyes, smothering curses. "We'll have to find her."
"It seems rather likely that she will find us," she noted. "In any event, I was able to smooth things over with the police by explaining that we'd had every intention of taking her into custody ourselves, but were prevented due to the overzealousness of the lieutenant on the scene. Fortunately, he isn't around to contradict us on that point."
"It's *not* fortunate," Rick interjected angrily.
"Of course not," she answered smoothly. "But please do remember this episode the next time, all right? Now if you'll excuse me, the market will open in a few minutes, and I have work to do."
He watched her go, silently promising himself (again) that he'd never allow himself to become that callous. After a moment, his temper soothed, he surveyed his works and nodded, then headed up to the front of the room. A few more runs through his prepared remarks wouldn't hurt.
"Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?" he began.
II:
"Or, who will watch the watchmen?" Rick Wayne (if that was indeed his real name) continued for the benefit of those who didn't speak Latin -- which was, oh, pretty much everyone.
Diane Mason hadn't really had any idea of what to expect from her first day as a super-hero, but this vaguely classroom-like environment would never have been on her imagined list of things.
"When Juvenal wrote that in his Satires, two millenia past, he was talking about the possibility that an official police force would be prone to corruption. I think, though, that the phrase has larger meanings that he didn't consider."
Rumiko was looking at him evenly, clearly taking in what he said. So was Will Freeman, the guy who'd shown up in the nick of time yesterday. Diane had the feeling that he'd heard it all before, though. Tara was looking at the others as he spoke, even as Diane was doing. Their eyes met, and Tara looked away first.
"Consider: watching a watchman can also mean looking after his -- or her
-- blind spot, so that an attack can't come from an unanticipated direction. No matter who you are, you always need someone that you can trust to watch your back. This, I think, more than the other, is why superhumans -- on both sides of the ethical divide -- have tended to operate in groups from the very beginning." He paused for a moment. "There's a reason why the teaming of Batman and Superman has always been called the World's Finest."
News to me, thought Diane. From what she'd heard, those two could barely stand each other.
"That, more than the other reason, is why I think we need to pool our resources." He stepped to the side, unblocking their view of the big screen that filled the wall behind him. The lights darkened slightly, and news images began to play across the screen.
The forming of the new Justice League. The alien invasion in Metropolis and subsequent computer take-over of the LexCorp building that had been their first mission, complete with journalistic speculation that Lena Luthor had staged the entire affair to draw them out. Other examples of supervillainous activity, all across the country -- some dealt with by conventional forces, some -- most -- not. Examples from across the world. Someone called Dr. Tzin-Tzin giving the Chinese government twenty-four hours to submit to him or be wiped from the face of the Earth. New horrors in the remains of Qurac. The Loch Ness monster sighted, photographed, and filmed attacking its photographer. Strange lights over Mars.
The film ended, and Rick stepped back into place. "This is our world. These are our times. Everything you just saw happened in the last twenty-four hours."
Diane blinked, turning to look at the others. To her surprise, she saw that Tara had leaned back in her seat, putting her feet up on the table. The other met her gaze again, this time lifting an eyebrow. Diane turned away.
"I'm not going to bother repeating the same platitudes about the value of cooperation that everyone here was fed as children. They are true, as Will and I demonstrated that yesterday. Come to that, so did the three of you, before we arrirved. If we want to do more than just survive in this world -- if we want to make a difference -- then we need to have someone watching our backs.
"And I do want to make a difference in this world before I leave it."
He paused, and Diane wondered if he was waiting for someone else to ring in with an agreement. For herself, she didn't really give a damn about changing the world. The world was crap.
But nobody went through the joint without learning something about needing someone else to watch your back.
Regardless of what he'd been waiting for, Rick continued after a few moments. "Circumstances have thrown us together. What I propose is that we acknowledge that serendipity, and use it as a base to continue working together."
"Of course, there's a bit of a problem there, Rick," Will abruptly interjected. "I trust you, of course -- but there are some of those present that I feel a little bit worried about." His eyes swayed involuntarily towards Diane.
Diane was unsurprised. This guy, whoever he was, clearly did his homework. And his attitude wasn't a shock either. Who'd want to trust a convicted felon to do anything but continue in her felony.
And he was probably right about her, too.
"You're not wrong, Will. We *all* need to learn that we can trust each other. In the interest of promoting that trust, I'm going to tell you my story, first. My name, as I told you when you arrived, is Richard Wayne. My father was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. I think you've probably heard of him.
"What I don't think you've heard is that he is Batman."
Diane *had* heard, of course, but she was surprised to see that, based on his reaction, Rick's old pal Will clearly hadn't.
"Seriously?" asked Tara.
"Always," Rick answered unsmilingly.
"Wow. So ... who's your mom? Catwoman? Poison Ivy?"
"Not even close. My mother was an intelligence officer in the United States Air Force named Diana Prince.
"You might know *her* better as Wonder Woman."
Rick thought it quite likely that he could have enlisted one of the complex's numerous support personnel to do the chore in which he was now engaged, but as his first sifu had told him: "If you would have a task done wrongly, let another do it for you."
Besides, setting the file folders on the U-shaped table where the others would soon be sitting wasn't that much of a chore. And it kept his attention focused on the task at hand, rather than allowing him to concern himself with the anxiety he was beginning to feel.
He'd never done anything like this before.
He shook his head. Yes, he had done things like this before. Giving a briefing was a task he'd managed dozens of times, and it was a bit much to suggest that a person who dressed in a costume and fought crime in public suffered from stage fright. And he'd led a team on missions. He'd been highly decorated for doing so, actually.
So what about this should be so conducive to anxiety.
"Good morning," Lorraine said from behind him.
He turned around to face her. "You're up early," he commented. In fact, he wasn't sure if she'd actually slept at all; he wasn't sure if she ever slept.
"It's the big day, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically. Considering Rick for a moment, she added, "There's nothing to be anxious about. I'm sure that you'll do this as exceptionally as you do most other things."
"Thank you --"
"As long as you just do as you're told, rather than improvising."
Rick chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Yes. About that, I've been wondering --"
"She escaped, of course," Lorraine answered. "Before the vehicle transporting her had gotten more than a few blocks from the crime scene. She killed all four of the officers accompanying her, of course. And her wherabouts are currently unknown."
He closed his eyes, smothering curses. "We'll have to find her."
"It seems rather likely that she will find us," she noted. "In any event, I was able to smooth things over with the police by explaining that we'd had every intention of taking her into custody ourselves, but were prevented due to the overzealousness of the lieutenant on the scene. Fortunately, he isn't around to contradict us on that point."
"It's *not* fortunate," Rick interjected angrily.
"Of course not," she answered smoothly. "But please do remember this episode the next time, all right? Now if you'll excuse me, the market will open in a few minutes, and I have work to do."
He watched her go, silently promising himself (again) that he'd never allow himself to become that callous. After a moment, his temper soothed, he surveyed his works and nodded, then headed up to the front of the room. A few more runs through his prepared remarks wouldn't hurt.
"Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?" he began.
II:
"Or, who will watch the watchmen?" Rick Wayne (if that was indeed his real name) continued for the benefit of those who didn't speak Latin -- which was, oh, pretty much everyone.
Diane Mason hadn't really had any idea of what to expect from her first day as a super-hero, but this vaguely classroom-like environment would never have been on her imagined list of things.
"When Juvenal wrote that in his Satires, two millenia past, he was talking about the possibility that an official police force would be prone to corruption. I think, though, that the phrase has larger meanings that he didn't consider."
Rumiko was looking at him evenly, clearly taking in what he said. So was Will Freeman, the guy who'd shown up in the nick of time yesterday. Diane had the feeling that he'd heard it all before, though. Tara was looking at the others as he spoke, even as Diane was doing. Their eyes met, and Tara looked away first.
"Consider: watching a watchman can also mean looking after his -- or her
-- blind spot, so that an attack can't come from an unanticipated direction. No matter who you are, you always need someone that you can trust to watch your back. This, I think, more than the other, is why superhumans -- on both sides of the ethical divide -- have tended to operate in groups from the very beginning." He paused for a moment. "There's a reason why the teaming of Batman and Superman has always been called the World's Finest."
News to me, thought Diane. From what she'd heard, those two could barely stand each other.
"That, more than the other reason, is why I think we need to pool our resources." He stepped to the side, unblocking their view of the big screen that filled the wall behind him. The lights darkened slightly, and news images began to play across the screen.
The forming of the new Justice League. The alien invasion in Metropolis and subsequent computer take-over of the LexCorp building that had been their first mission, complete with journalistic speculation that Lena Luthor had staged the entire affair to draw them out. Other examples of supervillainous activity, all across the country -- some dealt with by conventional forces, some -- most -- not. Examples from across the world. Someone called Dr. Tzin-Tzin giving the Chinese government twenty-four hours to submit to him or be wiped from the face of the Earth. New horrors in the remains of Qurac. The Loch Ness monster sighted, photographed, and filmed attacking its photographer. Strange lights over Mars.
The film ended, and Rick stepped back into place. "This is our world. These are our times. Everything you just saw happened in the last twenty-four hours."
Diane blinked, turning to look at the others. To her surprise, she saw that Tara had leaned back in her seat, putting her feet up on the table. The other met her gaze again, this time lifting an eyebrow. Diane turned away.
"I'm not going to bother repeating the same platitudes about the value of cooperation that everyone here was fed as children. They are true, as Will and I demonstrated that yesterday. Come to that, so did the three of you, before we arrirved. If we want to do more than just survive in this world -- if we want to make a difference -- then we need to have someone watching our backs.
"And I do want to make a difference in this world before I leave it."
He paused, and Diane wondered if he was waiting for someone else to ring in with an agreement. For herself, she didn't really give a damn about changing the world. The world was crap.
But nobody went through the joint without learning something about needing someone else to watch your back.
Regardless of what he'd been waiting for, Rick continued after a few moments. "Circumstances have thrown us together. What I propose is that we acknowledge that serendipity, and use it as a base to continue working together."
"Of course, there's a bit of a problem there, Rick," Will abruptly interjected. "I trust you, of course -- but there are some of those present that I feel a little bit worried about." His eyes swayed involuntarily towards Diane.
Diane was unsurprised. This guy, whoever he was, clearly did his homework. And his attitude wasn't a shock either. Who'd want to trust a convicted felon to do anything but continue in her felony.
And he was probably right about her, too.
"You're not wrong, Will. We *all* need to learn that we can trust each other. In the interest of promoting that trust, I'm going to tell you my story, first. My name, as I told you when you arrived, is Richard Wayne. My father was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. I think you've probably heard of him.
"What I don't think you've heard is that he is Batman."
Diane *had* heard, of course, but she was surprised to see that, based on his reaction, Rick's old pal Will clearly hadn't.
"Seriously?" asked Tara.
"Always," Rick answered unsmilingly.
"Wow. So ... who's your mom? Catwoman? Poison Ivy?"
"Not even close. My mother was an intelligence officer in the United States Air Force named Diana Prince.
"You might know *her* better as Wonder Woman."