Project: Arkham, part 4.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"His mind of man a secret makes
I meet him with a start
He carries a circumference
In which I have no part
Or even if I deem I do
He otherwise may know
Impregnate to inquests
However neighborly."
Emily Dickinson
Edward Nygma sat fuming behind the wheel of the stolen truck as he glared at the gridlock of cars around him. He had to get to a safe place so he could ditch the truck. It was too easily identified but he'd hit rush hour traffic in downtown Gotham and was now almost at a standstill. Like most of the Rogues, he had several hideouts scattered throughout the city in various abandoned buildings, out-of-the-way dives, and a few discreet furnished apartments paid for monthly through automatic bank transfers. His first thought had been to head for one of those so he could plan his next move in comfort but now he was having second thoughts. Perhaps one of the more run-down, isolated hideouts would be easier to reach.
As traffic began moving again, he prepared to turn left down a street that would lead him towards the docks when he heard startled conversation from the pedestrians. Looking up at their pointing fingers, he cringed at the sight of the Bat-signal reflected on the clouds. Slouching a little lower in the seat, he pulled his cap down to shade his face. He'd found it crumpled up in the glove compartment but he was still wearing the gray, regulation Arkham jumpsuit and would be conspicuous outside of the truck. Could Fredericks have called Commissioner Gordon about his escape so soon? He'd thought that Fredericks wouldn't draw attention to the situation at Arkham by publicizing his escape but maybe he'd been wrong. Of course, it was possible that Batman was being called about something else. Riddler certainly wasn't the only criminal in Gotham but he didn't really believe in coincidences which made it all the more urgent that he get rid of this truck.
It seemed to take forever to reach the shipping lanes but gradually as he got away from the main streets, the traffic thinned and he made better time. Every noise and shifting shadow made him jump a little but nothing happened by the time he left the truck parked in a back alley with the keys still in it and carefully made his way three blocks to his hideout. It was above a storage facility owned by Mr. Connor Drum, which was simply one of his many aliases, at the corner of Archer and Fish St. There was no sign that anyone had been there since he'd last visited months ago. Still, he was cautious as he punched the code into the keypad and then entered the building. The downstairs contained extra costumes and supplies and he shucked the gray jumpsuit for a green one with a single large question mark on the front. It was the only thing that would fit his thinner frame. He traded the cap for a purple bowler and grabbed one of his trick canes.
Upstairs was a normal-looking office which actually contained all sorts of hidden security measures that he deactivated before plopping himself down in the green office chair. He turned on the T.V. to see if there was any news about the Bat-signal's purpose. But there was nothing about his escape or anything that would warrant Batman's attention anywhere on the local stations. That could mean that Gordon and the Bat were trying to keep things quiet or it could mean that they didn't know about his escape and the signal HAD been about something else. He just didn't know and he'd always hated being unsure.
When he'd fled Arkham, Riddler's main thought had been to get away from Fredericks and his experiments but now he knew there was more to it. Fredericks wouldn't let him get away so easily. If the psychiatrist hadn't contacted Gordon, he'd definately send some of his own men out to retrieve Nygma. It wasn't safe to merely lay low. The way he saw it, he had two choices. He could leave town until this had all blown over and Fredericks was dealt with or he could take matters into his own hands and tip Batman off. The first option was tempting. Batman wasn't stupid and sooner or later he'd figure out that something was rotten at Arkham and go to investigate. Of course, he'd be unprepared to face not only the entire,controlled staff at Arkham but the changed supervillians as well and there was a slight chance he'd fail. That would be both good and bad from Nygma's POV. On the other hand, tipping Batman off would mean he'd be helping a sworn enemy even if it was against a different sort of enemy. Decisions, decisions, maybe he should take a cue from Two-Face and just flip a coin.
He finally decided that tipping Batman off in the form of a riddle was the best course of action. That way he could try out one of his riddles out and take care of Fredericks at the same time. He spent nearly an hour working out the riddle on a piece of scrap paper. He wanted Batman to go to Arkham to investigate without tipping him off as to what was going on there. Let the Dark Knight puzzle it through for himself. At last the riddle was complete.
It read:
Search high and low for news
Where covenants of swine
Play with the wits
Of knaves and quacks.
Now all he had to do was fax it to police headquarters, sit back, and wait for word of Fredericks arrest and Arkham's liberation...except that he didn't want to wait. His intellect and curiosity were boundless and the thought of waiting on the sidelines hoping for some vague account on the nightly news of what had transpired was too much to bear. The Riddler was the sort of person who had to know what was going on. The only way he could know what was going on was if he had a direct hand in things and for that he would need Batman to come to him. Sighing, he crossed out the first riddle and wrote a similar one:
Search high and low for news
Where Pisces and Sagittarius square off
While covenants of swine
Play with the wits of knaves.
With the push of a button, his message was sent and he spent the next several hours watching laughably easy game shows and eating Chinese food delivered from a nearby eatery known as 'The Happy Fortune Cookie.' It was dark out when his motion-sensitive security cameras were activated by the stealthy approach of a familiar, caped figure. Nygma had activated his security systems again so as not to make it too easy for the Dark Knight but as expected he got through all of them and was now approaching Riddler's darkened office. Nygma leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk as Batman entered carefully.
Riddler flipped the switch that turned on the lights and immediately Batman went into a defensive posture, Batarang-in-hand. He took in the sight of the Riddler simply sitting there waiting for him and the white slits of his eyes narrowed as he digested Nygma's new appearance.
"What do you want, Nygma?" Riddler suppressed a shudder at the sound of the dreaded, deep rumbling voice but he had invited Batman here in a sense and he was determined to be a gracious host. He got to his feet and put his arms behind his back in a military stance.
"I'm surprised you have to ask. I told you what the problem is in my riddle and frankly I expected you here an hour ago. Perhaps you're getting slow in your old age?" There was no response from Batman and after a moment, Riddler shrugged and moved on. "In case you haven't figured it out, my new look wasn't exactly a voluntary choice on my part. There's trouble afoot and I expect you'll want to do something about it."
"Your riddle said there was trouble at Arkham. Care to explain what's going on?" Batman hadn't relaxed in the slightest but he was standing straight now. As Riddler launched into his story about Dr. Fredericks and his Arkham experiments, the Dark Knight's only reaction to the details was a faint grimace at the mention of the Joker and another narrow glare when Riddler told him how the other Rogues had been altered although he left out a few details.
"...And if you think I look bad, wait until you see Scarecrow. So that's everything. I suggest we get to Arkham quickly before 'Dr. Moreau's Island' gets even more twisted."
"I'll go but you're not coming with me. You're going to wait in a cell at police headquarters. I can't trust you and I don't want to have to keep an eye on you while I look into the situation."
"What?! I could have sent you to Arkham on your own but I didn't. I deserve to be there. I HAVE to be there. I have unfinished business with..." His rant was cut off as particularly bad wave of nausea and dizziness hit him. He clutched the back of the chair as his knees buckled and closed his eyes as he chanted silently to himself, 'I will not throw up in front of Batman. I will not throw up in front of Batman.' A gloved hand closed over his arm and he opened his eyes to see Batman with a needle in one hand.
"I'll need a sample of your blood to see what this Fredericks did to you and why you're still having reactions."
"Not unless you agree to take me with you."
"No deal." Batman said flatly and Batcuffed Riddler to the chair before he could react. He ignored Nygma's protests as he rolled up a green sleeve and swabbed the crook of the Rogue's elbow. Nygma was too weak to fight back so he sulked in silence as Batman took the sample and dropped the vial of blood into a compartment on his belt. It seemed like all he'd been doing for the past two weeks was putting up with being stuck with needles by someone he detested. Batman uncuffed him and pulled him to his feet.
"You're making a mistake. You're going to need my help or do you think you can take on the whole staff of Arkham and a bunch of souped-up supervillians at the same time?"
"I'll manage." Batman started to drag Riddler towards the door when suddenly the security cameras came on again and on the multiple screens that showed the perimeter of the building, they saw numerous armed men surrounding the building. Riddler recognized many of them as Arkham guards with Rich leading the charge but some looked like local gang members. All of them had metallic chips glinting from behind their ears. Riddler was shocked. He hadn't expected Fredericks to find him this quickly. Could the psychiatrist have figured out the riddle or was he tracking Nygma some other way?
"Is there another way out?"
"The door over there leads to the roof but we'd be sitting ducks up there."
"Come on." He was forced to stumble along behind Batman as the Dark Knight kept a tight grip on his arm and having his hands still cuffed made it difficult for him to keep his balance. As they reached the door, there was a bang from below and a quick glance at the monitors showed him that the guards had smashed in the front door and were heading for the stairs. Then he followed Batman up the narrow stairs to the roof as the sound of pounding feet became audible.
On the roof, they were quickly caught in the glare of a spotlight. Nygma had to wonder how Fredericks had arranged all of this. Surely the police would notice all of this commotion unless they were being controlled too or distracted somewhere else. His mind spun a hundred different scenarios to explain what was going on but the truth was, he simply didn't know. An amplified voice was ordering them to surrender and someone was pounding on the closed door to the roof which Batman had sealed with some sort of fast-acting incendiery device. Nygma would have been fascinated by the technology under normal circumstances but now he all he could do was crouch behind a metal exhaust pipe which offered little cover as shots began to ring out. 'I can't die here. I'm too smart to die,' he thought frantically. Batman seemed eerily calm as he took another electronic device out of his belt and activated it.
In a few minutes, there was a whirring hum above them as the Batplane descended towards the roof. The guards stepped up their shooting but the plane blocked their aim as it hovered just above the roof and the canopy opened. Batman didn't have to urge Nygma towards it, he ran of his own accord and scrambled into the passenger side joined a moment later by the Dark Knight. The canopy closed and they ascended skyward, leaving the gunfire behind. They rose until they were above the clouds and then Batman put the plane on autopilot and turned to Nygma.
"Do you have any idea how they found you so quickly?"
"No idea. Maybe Fredericks deciphered my riddle somehow or he tagged me with some sort of tracking device." Batman frowned and then punched a command into the plane's keyboard. There was a faint hum and several lights blinked rapidly.
"You're clean. My sensors aren't detecting any radio or other signals coming from you.
I need to analyze your blood sample and since it wouldn't be safe to leave you at police headquarters with Fredericks men hunting you, you'll have to come with me." Batman removed a cannister fitted with an oxygen mask from a panel to the side of him. "Put this on."
"What? Why should I comply?"
"If you'd prefer another injection, I can accomadate you but this way is easier." The Dark Knight obviously wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer and Nygma WAS sick of being sedated with injections so sighing, he took the cannister and fitted the mask over his face. Batman turned the nozzle and as the gas began hissing, the sleek black plane began to fly again. Nygma had the sensation of floating as the gas took effect and then he slipped into darkness.
Riddler awoke gradually, becoming aware of his surroundings or at least as much as he could while blindfolded. He was seated in what felt like a padded chair with his hands cuffed to the arms. There was a faint rustling sound from nearby that could have been Batman's cape or something else and the faint hum of machinery. The air felt cool and he had the sense of space around him. As he shifted to a more comfortable position, footsteps approached him and he tensed. The sound seemed to echo which confirmed his feeling of being in a large open space. He must be in the famous Batcave. He managed not to jump when Batman spoke right in front of him.
"I've analyzed your blood sample, Nygma. I found traces of an unknown chemical compound that appears to have mutagenic properties. I'm going to need time to analyze it further but I also found something else. You've been repeatedly dosed with small amounts of Arinex and that's what's been causing your bouts of sickness."
"What?! You mean Fredericks did this deliberately?" Nygma was stunned. Arinex was an experimental drug being studied as an alternative to chemotherapy for cancer patients. Nygma had read about in several recent newspaper articles but as far as he knew it wasn't widely available.
"Dr. Wilhelm Fredericks has a brother who worked as an assistant on one of the clinical trials. I assume that's how he obtained some of the drug. The question is why was he giving it to you?"
"I don't know. I guess we'll have to ask him when we go to Arkham." There was silence and Nygma suppressed the urge to snarl in frustration. "We are going to Arkham, aren't we?"
In response, Batman uncuffed him and hauled him to his feet.
"I can't leave you here and police headquarters is still uncertain so yes, we're going to Arkham."
A/N: Obviously Arinex is fictional. Sorry I took so long with this chapter but I was having all kinds of computer problems.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"His mind of man a secret makes
I meet him with a start
He carries a circumference
In which I have no part
Or even if I deem I do
He otherwise may know
Impregnate to inquests
However neighborly."
Emily Dickinson
Edward Nygma sat fuming behind the wheel of the stolen truck as he glared at the gridlock of cars around him. He had to get to a safe place so he could ditch the truck. It was too easily identified but he'd hit rush hour traffic in downtown Gotham and was now almost at a standstill. Like most of the Rogues, he had several hideouts scattered throughout the city in various abandoned buildings, out-of-the-way dives, and a few discreet furnished apartments paid for monthly through automatic bank transfers. His first thought had been to head for one of those so he could plan his next move in comfort but now he was having second thoughts. Perhaps one of the more run-down, isolated hideouts would be easier to reach.
As traffic began moving again, he prepared to turn left down a street that would lead him towards the docks when he heard startled conversation from the pedestrians. Looking up at their pointing fingers, he cringed at the sight of the Bat-signal reflected on the clouds. Slouching a little lower in the seat, he pulled his cap down to shade his face. He'd found it crumpled up in the glove compartment but he was still wearing the gray, regulation Arkham jumpsuit and would be conspicuous outside of the truck. Could Fredericks have called Commissioner Gordon about his escape so soon? He'd thought that Fredericks wouldn't draw attention to the situation at Arkham by publicizing his escape but maybe he'd been wrong. Of course, it was possible that Batman was being called about something else. Riddler certainly wasn't the only criminal in Gotham but he didn't really believe in coincidences which made it all the more urgent that he get rid of this truck.
It seemed to take forever to reach the shipping lanes but gradually as he got away from the main streets, the traffic thinned and he made better time. Every noise and shifting shadow made him jump a little but nothing happened by the time he left the truck parked in a back alley with the keys still in it and carefully made his way three blocks to his hideout. It was above a storage facility owned by Mr. Connor Drum, which was simply one of his many aliases, at the corner of Archer and Fish St. There was no sign that anyone had been there since he'd last visited months ago. Still, he was cautious as he punched the code into the keypad and then entered the building. The downstairs contained extra costumes and supplies and he shucked the gray jumpsuit for a green one with a single large question mark on the front. It was the only thing that would fit his thinner frame. He traded the cap for a purple bowler and grabbed one of his trick canes.
Upstairs was a normal-looking office which actually contained all sorts of hidden security measures that he deactivated before plopping himself down in the green office chair. He turned on the T.V. to see if there was any news about the Bat-signal's purpose. But there was nothing about his escape or anything that would warrant Batman's attention anywhere on the local stations. That could mean that Gordon and the Bat were trying to keep things quiet or it could mean that they didn't know about his escape and the signal HAD been about something else. He just didn't know and he'd always hated being unsure.
When he'd fled Arkham, Riddler's main thought had been to get away from Fredericks and his experiments but now he knew there was more to it. Fredericks wouldn't let him get away so easily. If the psychiatrist hadn't contacted Gordon, he'd definately send some of his own men out to retrieve Nygma. It wasn't safe to merely lay low. The way he saw it, he had two choices. He could leave town until this had all blown over and Fredericks was dealt with or he could take matters into his own hands and tip Batman off. The first option was tempting. Batman wasn't stupid and sooner or later he'd figure out that something was rotten at Arkham and go to investigate. Of course, he'd be unprepared to face not only the entire,controlled staff at Arkham but the changed supervillians as well and there was a slight chance he'd fail. That would be both good and bad from Nygma's POV. On the other hand, tipping Batman off would mean he'd be helping a sworn enemy even if it was against a different sort of enemy. Decisions, decisions, maybe he should take a cue from Two-Face and just flip a coin.
He finally decided that tipping Batman off in the form of a riddle was the best course of action. That way he could try out one of his riddles out and take care of Fredericks at the same time. He spent nearly an hour working out the riddle on a piece of scrap paper. He wanted Batman to go to Arkham to investigate without tipping him off as to what was going on there. Let the Dark Knight puzzle it through for himself. At last the riddle was complete.
It read:
Search high and low for news
Where covenants of swine
Play with the wits
Of knaves and quacks.
Now all he had to do was fax it to police headquarters, sit back, and wait for word of Fredericks arrest and Arkham's liberation...except that he didn't want to wait. His intellect and curiosity were boundless and the thought of waiting on the sidelines hoping for some vague account on the nightly news of what had transpired was too much to bear. The Riddler was the sort of person who had to know what was going on. The only way he could know what was going on was if he had a direct hand in things and for that he would need Batman to come to him. Sighing, he crossed out the first riddle and wrote a similar one:
Search high and low for news
Where Pisces and Sagittarius square off
While covenants of swine
Play with the wits of knaves.
With the push of a button, his message was sent and he spent the next several hours watching laughably easy game shows and eating Chinese food delivered from a nearby eatery known as 'The Happy Fortune Cookie.' It was dark out when his motion-sensitive security cameras were activated by the stealthy approach of a familiar, caped figure. Nygma had activated his security systems again so as not to make it too easy for the Dark Knight but as expected he got through all of them and was now approaching Riddler's darkened office. Nygma leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk as Batman entered carefully.
Riddler flipped the switch that turned on the lights and immediately Batman went into a defensive posture, Batarang-in-hand. He took in the sight of the Riddler simply sitting there waiting for him and the white slits of his eyes narrowed as he digested Nygma's new appearance.
"What do you want, Nygma?" Riddler suppressed a shudder at the sound of the dreaded, deep rumbling voice but he had invited Batman here in a sense and he was determined to be a gracious host. He got to his feet and put his arms behind his back in a military stance.
"I'm surprised you have to ask. I told you what the problem is in my riddle and frankly I expected you here an hour ago. Perhaps you're getting slow in your old age?" There was no response from Batman and after a moment, Riddler shrugged and moved on. "In case you haven't figured it out, my new look wasn't exactly a voluntary choice on my part. There's trouble afoot and I expect you'll want to do something about it."
"Your riddle said there was trouble at Arkham. Care to explain what's going on?" Batman hadn't relaxed in the slightest but he was standing straight now. As Riddler launched into his story about Dr. Fredericks and his Arkham experiments, the Dark Knight's only reaction to the details was a faint grimace at the mention of the Joker and another narrow glare when Riddler told him how the other Rogues had been altered although he left out a few details.
"...And if you think I look bad, wait until you see Scarecrow. So that's everything. I suggest we get to Arkham quickly before 'Dr. Moreau's Island' gets even more twisted."
"I'll go but you're not coming with me. You're going to wait in a cell at police headquarters. I can't trust you and I don't want to have to keep an eye on you while I look into the situation."
"What?! I could have sent you to Arkham on your own but I didn't. I deserve to be there. I HAVE to be there. I have unfinished business with..." His rant was cut off as particularly bad wave of nausea and dizziness hit him. He clutched the back of the chair as his knees buckled and closed his eyes as he chanted silently to himself, 'I will not throw up in front of Batman. I will not throw up in front of Batman.' A gloved hand closed over his arm and he opened his eyes to see Batman with a needle in one hand.
"I'll need a sample of your blood to see what this Fredericks did to you and why you're still having reactions."
"Not unless you agree to take me with you."
"No deal." Batman said flatly and Batcuffed Riddler to the chair before he could react. He ignored Nygma's protests as he rolled up a green sleeve and swabbed the crook of the Rogue's elbow. Nygma was too weak to fight back so he sulked in silence as Batman took the sample and dropped the vial of blood into a compartment on his belt. It seemed like all he'd been doing for the past two weeks was putting up with being stuck with needles by someone he detested. Batman uncuffed him and pulled him to his feet.
"You're making a mistake. You're going to need my help or do you think you can take on the whole staff of Arkham and a bunch of souped-up supervillians at the same time?"
"I'll manage." Batman started to drag Riddler towards the door when suddenly the security cameras came on again and on the multiple screens that showed the perimeter of the building, they saw numerous armed men surrounding the building. Riddler recognized many of them as Arkham guards with Rich leading the charge but some looked like local gang members. All of them had metallic chips glinting from behind their ears. Riddler was shocked. He hadn't expected Fredericks to find him this quickly. Could the psychiatrist have figured out the riddle or was he tracking Nygma some other way?
"Is there another way out?"
"The door over there leads to the roof but we'd be sitting ducks up there."
"Come on." He was forced to stumble along behind Batman as the Dark Knight kept a tight grip on his arm and having his hands still cuffed made it difficult for him to keep his balance. As they reached the door, there was a bang from below and a quick glance at the monitors showed him that the guards had smashed in the front door and were heading for the stairs. Then he followed Batman up the narrow stairs to the roof as the sound of pounding feet became audible.
On the roof, they were quickly caught in the glare of a spotlight. Nygma had to wonder how Fredericks had arranged all of this. Surely the police would notice all of this commotion unless they were being controlled too or distracted somewhere else. His mind spun a hundred different scenarios to explain what was going on but the truth was, he simply didn't know. An amplified voice was ordering them to surrender and someone was pounding on the closed door to the roof which Batman had sealed with some sort of fast-acting incendiery device. Nygma would have been fascinated by the technology under normal circumstances but now he all he could do was crouch behind a metal exhaust pipe which offered little cover as shots began to ring out. 'I can't die here. I'm too smart to die,' he thought frantically. Batman seemed eerily calm as he took another electronic device out of his belt and activated it.
In a few minutes, there was a whirring hum above them as the Batplane descended towards the roof. The guards stepped up their shooting but the plane blocked their aim as it hovered just above the roof and the canopy opened. Batman didn't have to urge Nygma towards it, he ran of his own accord and scrambled into the passenger side joined a moment later by the Dark Knight. The canopy closed and they ascended skyward, leaving the gunfire behind. They rose until they were above the clouds and then Batman put the plane on autopilot and turned to Nygma.
"Do you have any idea how they found you so quickly?"
"No idea. Maybe Fredericks deciphered my riddle somehow or he tagged me with some sort of tracking device." Batman frowned and then punched a command into the plane's keyboard. There was a faint hum and several lights blinked rapidly.
"You're clean. My sensors aren't detecting any radio or other signals coming from you.
I need to analyze your blood sample and since it wouldn't be safe to leave you at police headquarters with Fredericks men hunting you, you'll have to come with me." Batman removed a cannister fitted with an oxygen mask from a panel to the side of him. "Put this on."
"What? Why should I comply?"
"If you'd prefer another injection, I can accomadate you but this way is easier." The Dark Knight obviously wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer and Nygma WAS sick of being sedated with injections so sighing, he took the cannister and fitted the mask over his face. Batman turned the nozzle and as the gas began hissing, the sleek black plane began to fly again. Nygma had the sensation of floating as the gas took effect and then he slipped into darkness.
Riddler awoke gradually, becoming aware of his surroundings or at least as much as he could while blindfolded. He was seated in what felt like a padded chair with his hands cuffed to the arms. There was a faint rustling sound from nearby that could have been Batman's cape or something else and the faint hum of machinery. The air felt cool and he had the sense of space around him. As he shifted to a more comfortable position, footsteps approached him and he tensed. The sound seemed to echo which confirmed his feeling of being in a large open space. He must be in the famous Batcave. He managed not to jump when Batman spoke right in front of him.
"I've analyzed your blood sample, Nygma. I found traces of an unknown chemical compound that appears to have mutagenic properties. I'm going to need time to analyze it further but I also found something else. You've been repeatedly dosed with small amounts of Arinex and that's what's been causing your bouts of sickness."
"What?! You mean Fredericks did this deliberately?" Nygma was stunned. Arinex was an experimental drug being studied as an alternative to chemotherapy for cancer patients. Nygma had read about in several recent newspaper articles but as far as he knew it wasn't widely available.
"Dr. Wilhelm Fredericks has a brother who worked as an assistant on one of the clinical trials. I assume that's how he obtained some of the drug. The question is why was he giving it to you?"
"I don't know. I guess we'll have to ask him when we go to Arkham." There was silence and Nygma suppressed the urge to snarl in frustration. "We are going to Arkham, aren't we?"
In response, Batman uncuffed him and hauled him to his feet.
"I can't leave you here and police headquarters is still uncertain so yes, we're going to Arkham."
A/N: Obviously Arinex is fictional. Sorry I took so long with this chapter but I was having all kinds of computer problems.