Author's Note: The idea of a Boom Tube being used as a device for teleportation between dimensions comes from recent issues of Superman/Batman, where the heroes use a Boom Tube, altered by Darkseid and company, to battle the Maximums--a team of renegade heroes. Enjoy.
The Flying Fortress' control deck.
Batman and Alexander Luthor.
I step over the mangled and charred remains of a blast-door, with Batman behind me, and make my way to the computer console on the far side of the room. My fingers dance across the keyboard, putting to good use years of practice. As it were. Behind me, Batman speaks up.
"How did you know to get past the defenses?" he asks. I sneer unseen to him; even after all we've done he still underestimates me. I finish entering coordinates in the computer, and turn around to see him. He's holding the disc in one hand, and staring at the mangled door thoughtfully. If I didn't know better, I'd say he looks like he's just seen his beloved puppy put out of its misery.
"Defenses," I sneer. "Those were cheap decorations for some folk festival. Give me the disc."
Batman turns away from the door and extends a hand to me. A silver-colored floppy disc sits motionless in the palm, reflecting the overhead lights.
"You're sure we won't be caught," Batman says. It's not a question. "The station can only be so big."
I slide the disc into the drive above the keyboard. The screen winks to life and a status bar creeps from the left side of the screen to the right. Twenty percent and counting. "Big enough that we can get in unnoticed, though," I reply. "The Syndicate's too occupied with their own problems to man the ramparts, Batman."
"Such as?" I hear footsteps echo on the metal flooring plates behind me. I crook my head to the side slightly, and see a vertical shadow standing next to me. The hints that there's a man inside the shadow—an upturned chin and stark white slits where the eyes would be—stares at the screen. I regard him for a moment, and press a button.
"Such as this."
The status bar minimizes, and a video-window replaces it. Johnny Quick is trying and failing to run circles around Sinestro, and Power Ring is trading blows with Black Adam. For all the apparent violence and blood spewing from Power Ring's mouth, it still looks incredibly…staged.
Like the villains are simply keeping them occupied. The way it should be.
The minimized window starts blinking an intermittent color of yellow, and I maximize it.
"Ah," I say with a self-satisfied smile. "Upload complete. Are we ready to begin?"
"Just so we're clear," Batman interjects in a heavy voice. More dark emotion. I start tapping my fingers impatiently on the table. God Save the King seems a good rhythm; my free hand hovers over the mouse, ready to click on the execute button at any moment. Batman continues: "No one dies. Not if I can help it."
"Yes, yes," I say quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "No one dies, fine. Let's get this cosmic treadmill going." I click the execute button and a countdown window pops up. "There, we have five minutes before the program you wrote over-rides the computer and sends this station crashing to the ground."
Five minutes. An eternity...to see a life's work realized.
The surface of the Earth. Power Ring and Black Adam.
In between shielding himself from Power Ring's green-energy constructs, Black Adam still manages to access his earpiece communicator. Before he can start talking, though, Power Ring creates a green shovel in the air and thrusts it into the ground, hoisting the ruler of Khandaq in the air amid a pile of dirt. The brief respite gives Adam time to talk in his ear.
"What is it?" he asks grimly.
"Black Adam," the voice on the other end says smugly. "The time has come. Are you ready for transportation?"
"Yes. Johnny Quick has little time before his speed serum expires. We should exterminate him."
"No," the voice enunciates. "We're only interested in one distraction. A boom tube will be opening in your proximity in a few moments. When it does, drop what you're doing and leave, else you'll be stuck in this universe. And I'm sure you don't want to be."
Black Adam lifts into the air, out of Power Ring's emerald shovel, makes a jagged line in the sky and shoots back to Earth. Power Ring sights Adam approaching but doesn't have time to react before the ruler of Khandaq slams into him and breaks his arm. Power Ring falls to his knees groaning in writhing in pain, but his ring still works. He tells himself it does. Black Adam lands and kicks Power Ring to the ground. When Power Ring tries to encapsulate Adam in an energy-bubble, Adam steps on the ring-bearing hand and applies pressure. The ruler of Khandaq hears the bones snap and crackle under the weight of his foot…and smiles.
"Agreed," Adam says, tapping his ear once more. "Where will we be transported to?"
"Society headquarters back in Gotham City, as per our agreement. And if I'm not mistaken you have a trinket of your own?"
"The ring of the first Green Lantern. Rest assured I intend to put it to good use, Alexander. Sooner or later."
The Panopticon. Ultraman and Superman.
"Lois?"
Through the darkness and the intermittent shower of sparks, Ultraman steps lightly. He may have super-strength and x-ray vision, but he doesn't use them. Some part of him suspects this is the end; that he fears the worst. A terrible sense of finality creeps into his mind.
Somewhere over his head—above in the wrecked ceiling structures—broken and mangled steel support beams dangle precariously while others lay motionless on the floor. Stressed metal yawns and creaks, echoing through the main chambers. Smoke hangs motionless in the air—an acrid tang that almost chokes Ultraman. He fires his heat vision for a few seconds to dissipate some, and keeps walking. Up ahead, Ultraman sees it.
The conference table—the big one with the letters CSA emblazoned across the top—is fragmented and sunken in the middle, as if from a severe impact. Shards of the table and chairs lay on the floor, shattered beyond repair, as are the larger exhibits of the Syndicate's conquest. The head of the Statue of Liberty is a pile of green-colored shards in a heap across the room, and the statue of David is separated from the waist up—the torso strewn across the floor, and the legs are lifeless hunks of concrete on the floor.
Only on closer inspection does Ultraman see the figure in the sunken part of the conference table.
Superwoman. Lois. Lying in a pool of blood amid the shards of the table. A huge gash is sliced across her forehead. Ultraman vaults over an upturned chair and falls to his knees by Lois' side, saying her name repeatedly. His ears catch a heartbeat; faint, but a heartbeat just the same. He smiles minimally at the good news. When he tries to lift her up, she grunts in pain, so he sets her back down. Ultraman brings his hands up to regard, and sees them covered with her blood. He feels haphazardly around her back, and comes across a rough spot at the shoulder blade where she'd taken a piece of shrapnel.
He leans close. Lois' eyes open and her lips start moving silently. Ultraman can't understand what she's mouthing until he leans his ear close to her lips.
"Luthor…"
Then Ultraman's head shoots away from Lois, rearing in the air like a pup at attention. He scowls and squints—out of suspicion more than anything—into the darkness. And he hears another heartbeat. But...different. With his x-ray vision, Ultraman observes the heart on the left side of the body, and the distinctive S-diamond shield across the chest.
"Superman," he said spitefully. "Show yourself, you arrogant alien bastard."
Slowly, the Man of Steel steps out of the shadows. He doesn't speak, but waits for Ultraman to start.
"You did this," Ultraman says through gritted teeth. "Why?"
"I didn't do anything," Superman replies frankly. "I'm here to help."
"You can kiss my ass," Ultraman persists angrily. "What are you up to? Tell me!"
"Nothing," Superman says. "But I know that if we don't help her, she'll die. That shrapnel wound in her back? It was caused by a blade of magical origin, which Alexander Luthor brought here from my universe. It's designed to specifically hurt beings vulnerable to magic, and I suspect Superwoman is one of them."
Ultraman frowns, and raises an eyebrow in confusion. "You…want to help me?"
"I want to save a life. And for me to do that, you have to step back."
Brainiac's Skull Ship. Alexander Luthor and Batman.
"Are they away?"
Alexander Luthor is, by most accounts, a patient man. When it suits him. He's a man built and governed by utility—he sees the world in stark terms of usefulness, or the lack thereof.
Batman is essential to Alexander's plans. Working with a mind as cunning as his own, Luthor thought he might finally affect the means to despatch the Crime Syndicate once and for all. The first initiative has already been met: destroy their base of operations, all the while keeping their members distracted from action.
The second initiative is extermination. In the back of his mind, Alexander Luthor can't stop congratulating himself. The Panopticon's destruction means Superwoman's incapacitation. With her gone, Ultraman will also be out of commission. Owlman fought Deathstroke to a standstill and both were later rendered unconscious by a sonic boom that severely weakened the Flying Fortress.
Yes, the Syndicate's destruction is at hand, Alexander Luthor thinks contently. A life's realization…come true.
Luthor is hunched over a computer console in Ultraman's quarters. Across the room, the bed is unkempt; sheets are spread everywhere and a golden lasso lies at the foot of the mattress. Luthor eyes it thoughtfully, and turns back to the screen. His fingers dance across the keyboard. A small pop-up window in the foreground counts down from two minutes and thirty seconds.
Luthor taps his ear and a moment later, Brainiac's tinny voice travels across the line. "Yes, Alexander. Black Adam and Sinestro have successfully returned to the positive-matter world."
"And Deathstroke?" Luthor asks, genuinely concerned.
"A drone has retrieved him. He is aboard my ship."
Alexander Luthor smiles. "You know, you're a wonderful human being."
"Humor is an emotion lost on me, Alexander. Are you prepared to leave?"
"One more housekeeping chore," Alexander replies. "Your teleporters are in working order. I need you to find my positive-matter counterpart and take him aboard you ship."
A pause. Alexander eyeballs Batman thoughtfully for a moment. Luthor's earpiece buzzes and Brainiac comes back online. "Done. He will be kept out of sight of the Kryptonian. What of you and Batman?"
Luthor stand from the computer console and turns around to face Batman. The Dark Knight stands a meter away form Luthor, his arms crossed confidently across his chest. It's an act, Luthor realizes, and one that has had time and practice to be perfected. But it is, in a glaring way, transparent.
Batman is still human. Human mannered, human compassionate. Admirable.
"A fair question, Brainiac."
"Brainiac?" Batman retorts. "You aligned yourself with Brainiac?"
Luthor taps his ear again and speaks frankly—calmly: "I'm afraid only one of us will be making the voyage home, Brainiac."
Luthor slides his free hand behind his back and returns with a small metal pillbox. Only…this has sleek sides and series of diagonal lines and circles across the face. When Luthor pressed one of the small silver circles, the box gave a small ping-ping-ping sound.
A Mother Box, Batman remarks to himself.
"You found Apokolips." Batman asks flatly, unimpressed. "Why am I not surprised?"
Luthor turns to the Dark Knight and smiles demurely.
"Some of us don't fear the unknown, Mister Wayne." Luthor begins pacing, holding the Mother Box stationary in his hand as he goes. "I came across a universe some months ago that particularly intrigued me. I called it the Fourth World—as befit the order in which I discovered it—and made my own modifications to Mother Box, effectively rendering it easy to use for travel between worlds, if you will."
Batman stares past Luthor, and sees the countdown nearing two minutes. He glances back at Luthor, and Luthor stares into Batman's featureless cowl.
"You've been of great assistance to me, Mister Wayne. With your help—the disc in the computer upstairs which will destabilize the system and send this fortress to the ground in flames—I'm a step or two closer to the destruction of the Syndicate."
Superman.
"Brainiac. I'm all set here."
"What of Superwoman?"
"Ultraman's treating her. She should be fine, given proper handling of her injuries."
"Understood. And Batman?"
Batman. The Mna of Steel ahd never found him. Could the Syndicate have done the unthinkable? Possibly. Superman didn't want to give up hope.
He would return. Someday. Somehow.
"Superman? Are you ready for transport?"
"Yes," the Man of Steel replies after a pause. "I believe so.."
Alexander Luthor and Batman aboard the Flying Fortress.
"You'd kill them just to achieve a goal."
"We've been over this before!" Luthor snaps, throwing the Mother Box to the ground. He scowls, and calms himself and points a finger at Batman. "You knew what you were getting into. You must have known it would take lives."
Batman grimaces and bows his head. Privately he chides himself for not seeing it sooner. "I didn't think you had it in you. Maybe the universes...aren't so different. You kidnapped my universe's Luthor and gave him over to the Syndicate for torture. You deserve everything he's getting."
Luthor's brow furls and he purses his lips in silent protest—as if he's about to say something but lacks the words. His mouth closes slowly and he stares at the floor dismally for a moment. Luthor starts pacing and rears his head up after a few steps to regard the ceiling.
"If I press this button," Luthor says quietly. "An energy signature will appear around you and teleport you aboard Brainiac's ship. Another button will teleport you back to your universe entirely. Back to your Watchtower, exactly as you left it." Luthor turns to face Batman. "With every memory of what went on here.
"What you were about to do would save lives, Mister Wayne. Killing the Syndicate is the only way to ensure their kind never rises again."
"No," Batman replies. "It's not."
Luthor leans over the console, focusing his weight on his fists on the tabletop. "It wasn't a fair comparison…me and your Luthor." His voice is a creak—quiet, nearly inaudible. "He seeks to destroy life. And I seek to make my world a better place. Killing the Syndicate was the first step in a right direction. Or so I thought."
Luthor turns around to face Batman. His face is drawn, an exhausted grimace across his lips. His eyes are a hint of red—signs of tears on their way. "Still unwilling to make compromises," Luthor says quietly. "It may get you killed one day."
Batman inhales deeply, holds it, and releases. Deep inside, the Dark Knight feels a creeping sensation. Remorse? Pity? Hard to tell.
"Here," Luthor says weakly. He extends one hand outward to Batman, offering the Mother Box. "Take it. Return to your home."
Batman doesn't move. For a moment, he almost looks offended by the offer of the Mother Box. "What about you?" he asks. Luthor looks away for a moment and runs a hand across his skull. After a deep sigh, he comes back to Batman.
"I told you once that I was alone against a world of evil. I believe you are as well. So take Mother Box and go home—to a world where promises mean something."
Luthor approaches Batman, grabs the Dark Knight's hand and plants the Mother Box in his palm.
"Go home and bring a little more light to your life…"
Luthor presses a button on the box's face. A flash of light temporarily blinds Luthor as the Boom Tube opens behind Batman. The Dark Knight turns into the light, and doesn't look back. Alexander Luthor turns back to the computer console, and sees the countdown has zeroed out across the board. And before the power shuts off and the station starts to fall from its atmospheric orbit, Alexander Luthor smiles.
Less than an eternity.
Continued...