by IronRaven
edited by no one (sorry if I missed something)
Disclaimer: Batman, Wonder Woman, The Justice League, Teen Titans and related entities, characters and concepts are the property of DC Comics. This continuum was developed by Bruce Timm. The title and image of the '57 Bel-Air and the Metro are both property of General Motors' Chevrolet division.
A slightly different result to the start of Hereafter.
Becuase of how much this chapter jumps around in place, I'm going to be putting locator tags in each of my seperators (---).
--- Batcave
In the Batcave, Tim sat on the edge of the chasm, his legs dangling, as he looked down. He hadn't been home in almost two years, not since before the Martian Invasion. Now he knew why Bruce had asked what he did, years ago. And Tim knew why he couldn't walk away from this life. Bruce always taught by example. Where there is life, there is hope. Tim was alive.
"Is this a private cliff, or can anyone jump?"
I'm not going to jump, Barbara, you don't need to worry." Looking over his shoulder, the redheaded woman's face was hidden in the shadows, but not enough to hide her concern. "Really. I just wish I hadn't been so stubborn."
Sitting tiredly next to her former teammate, Barb shook her head. "If you hadn't been stubborn, he never would have trained you. You know he looked for you right up until the walkers landed, and even then he told Dick and I to keep looking for you."
"I know. The Titans weren't founded to show I was just as good as he was, really. It was the most public way I could think of to get him to stop looking for me." With a flick of his finger, he sent a pebble bouncing down into the deepest shadows, clicking and clattering to the bottom none of them had ever explored. "He needed one less thing to worry about."
"Bruce, stop worrying about something?" The two looked at each other, and snorted, knowing just how unlikely it would have been for the Bat to ever stop worrying about everything.
--- elsewhere
Batman became aware of the light stabbing through his eyelids about the same time the little person with the bass drum started banging it inside his head. He was acutely aware of feeling like every muscle in his body had been stripped off and then remounted upside down as he flinched at the brightness. A faint wind ran over him, feeding him a mix of scents, one of them familiar.
"Hello."
And I thought nothing felt worse than a boom tube. Turning a grunt of pain into words, Batman sat up before he opened his eyes. The way his stomach felt, doing it in the opposite order would be a bad idea. "Where are we."
"It isn't Earth." Diana stood from the piece of rubble she had been using as a stool, offering her hand to her comrade. She was slightly surprised when he accepted it, using it to pull himself to his feet. His eyes narrowed behind his mask as he looked about, taking in the ringed moon and the red sun.
"Any signs of the others?" Glancing about, he saw several of the cars that had been blasted by Toyman's weapon. At least that solved the question of how we got here.
"None, but there is a beacon on the comm. It is very faint, I'm not sure if they can heard me."
Pressing his hand to his ear, Batman triggered his comm, listening. After a second, he turned it off, frowning under his mask. "We should conserve battery power. It might be a while before they can do anything but send a beacon, we were the first ones hit." He glanced at her briefly. "You are cold."
"I am cold, and I can't fly." Diana looked down, her confidence shaken. "Where ever we are, Hera doesn't know I'm here."
"Then we just need to let her know where you are." He spoke gently, as he removed his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Without further explanation Batman turned towards the news stand. Bernie's News, it was a place that Bruce Wayne had purchased newspapers before. That part of his mind felt sorry for the hard working, humorous little man.
--- Watchtower
"Javelin, I have you on visual. I confirm your IFF and one passenger. Opening docking bay three." Green Lantern reached out to throw the switch on the watch station panel. He didn't need to, the station could take care of itself, but his military experience made him prefer human oversight. With all things considered, the higher degree of security felt good right now, to everyone. "Welcome back, Hawkgirl."
GL turned back to the display on his tablet. He and J'onn had become the defacto leaders of the Justice League, at least in the eyes of the world below. Officially, Superman was with the dead's families, comforting them. In reality, he was barely starting to stir from the sedatives that J'onn had given him after he had nearly killed Toyman.
While it was well known that the Toyman lay in critical condition, the details were closely guarded. The electromagnetic disruptions caused by the Weather Wizard had blocked the live feeds from the news folks. Their tapes had been blocked with the help of Louis Lane, who had called in every favor she was owed. Flash had helped there, offering to trade interviews and teases of sensor data from the Javelin in the future for their silence. Between the two angles, it had surprised J'onn- lieing, or at least concealing the truth, just wasn't part of the Martian way.
Less than two days, the efficiency of it all was almost scary. But state funerals are something that every government had thought of, just like the military did. Probably the same grim, odd little men wrote the scripts for both, he mused. It was going to be held in the shadow of the World Assembly, in the Cathedral of St. Michael.
John was going over the list of speakers again, somewhat nervously, when the doors behind the watch station hissed open. His ears identified the sound of Shayera's steps easily as he raised his head. "How are the Amazons?"
"Nervous." Scowling at the stars, she perched delicately on the edge of the instrument panel. "This is probably the last we will see of them. Before Wonder Woman left home, it had been over two thousand years since any of them died, and in less than two years they've had Faust, Aerisa and now this. Her Majesty wishes to attend the funeral, and then I'll return her to Thermyscera."
--- elsewhere
After having methodically searched and ransacked the news stand, Batman had moved on to examining the cars. Totally at a loss to this part of Mansworld, Diana watched in fascination as he checked each machine. "You look like you've done this before, Bruce."
From under the front end of the compact came a muffled "Don't call me that. Princess." With a sound of disgust, he pushed himself from under the tiny vehicle, before heading off towards the lovingly polished Bel-Air. Why couldn't he have shot a pickup or something?
Her hand balling into a fist alongside the leg of the jeans they had found in the compact, Diana stared for a moment. Of all the people she had ever known, Bruce Wayne was the most infuriating. "OK, Batman, you look like you've done this before. And don't call me Princess."
Pausing to raise an eyebrow under his mask, Batman popped the hood on the classic icon of Detroit Steel. "Unless I find something wrong with this, it makes the most sense. The Metro might get better mileage, but it doesn't have the mass. All the fuel economy in the world won't matter if we get hung up."
"Let me guess, you always wanted one." Letting her anger slip back a bit, Diana rested her hands on the fender, smiling gently. "I've seen pictures of this car, one night GL and Flash was explaining to J'onn about 'muscle cars'."
"No, I rebuilt one when I was 16. By myself. I know it as well as the men who designed it." Reaching into his belt, Batman flicked his Leatherman open one handed. "You are in my light."
--- Watchtower
"They have a monument already? Is it something Luthor commissioned?" Eyes slited in anger, Hawkgirl wanted to smash something. It had to be a bad joke. A fitting monument for her comrades would take longer than they had had. It would either be something some sicko had made, or a piece of trash thrown together in a few hours.
"Whoa, easy there." Green Lantern backed up a little, instinctively, having seen the winged woman this angry before and knowing that a mace could quickly become involved. "It is a gift from Kasnia. It was going to commemorate those who died in Savage's plot. The two of them, standing on a broken stone wall, watching the sky, with the names of those who didn't make it out of the castle engraved on the stones, along with the sailors in the carrier group. The artist hadn't starting put the names on yet."
"Oh." She knew how much the Kasnian's respected the League, and Wonder Woman and Batman especially. It wasn't just that they had saved their queen and freed their country from the brief hold the immortal madman. Batman had made several rather well publicized takedowns of Kasnian terrorists, in North America and Europe, protecting the proud nation's honor. And Wonder Woman had made rebuilding that nation her hobby, spending many of her off days there, and not just because of her friendship with Queen Audrey. "I saw the news on my way up. Is it true they are calling on the World Assembly to try Toyman and the others for crimes against humanity?"
"And they aren't kidding. They are offering to put them into the same hole they are hiding Savage in."
Any further discussion was broken by a tiny beep on their comms, followed by Flash's voice. "Hey, guys, Supes is waking up. J'onn, you might want to get down here."
--- elsewhere
Cans and bottles of gasoline and several bottles of oil, drained from the other cars. A spare car battery, with jumper cables. The jacks from the other cars. Some light line, not heavy enough to be rope but more than twine. All the water they had found, not enough by half. A few dozen of those horrible things Flash had made ads for, along with some other candies, and a little beef jerky. A small tool kit. Thirteen road flares and several cigarette lighters. Two flashlights with two spare sets of batteries, even if they had questionable charge. The fabric carefully pulled from the interiors of the sacrificed cars, along with several slats and rods from the security shutter from the news stand. Assorted sundries. It was enough to make Diana shake her head.
"What?" Brushing the dust from his uniform, Batman looked over the salvage, silently debating if it was worth trying to salvage the wire in the newstand.
Looking up at the bright moons, Diana rubbed her arms under the cape for warmth. She had looked into lighting a fire, but there wasn't enough wood to keep a fire going more than an hour, and the newsstand's paper would have been scattered by the wind in minutes. "I've never seen someone ransack something this thoroughly. Are you sure you weren't a Spartan once?"
Ignoring the comment, Batman raised his hand to his ear, adjusting his comm. "This is Batman and Wonder Woman. We have a fix on your direction and will move towards you at first light." He repeated that four more times, listening between each time, before shutting down his earpiece. He stretched without seeming to move, straining his muscles against each other. "Get some rest. It will be warmer in the car."
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine." Reaching into a pouch on his belt, back near his spine, Batman removed a small mylar covered block. Taking the seam in his hands, he pulled in opposite directions to reveal a pair of small greenish-grey blocks. He held one out to his companion.
"What is it?" Looking over the object, Diana turned it over in her fingers, surprised that something so solid looking would be putty-like.
"24K Ration." His face became mask like as he bit into it, chewing quickly, not breathing until he had swallowed. "Each block has twenty four hundred calories, and enough electrolytes, iron and amino acids for a day."
Reassured not in the least bit by Batman's facial expression as he choked down the last of his portion, Diana soon discovered that it was best not to breath as she ate it. For emergencies only.
The vile taste and the long day made her incautious. "You have everything in there but the kitchen sink." Diana had learned the expression from Superman.
Looking away from her, Batman's voice was as even and low as ever. "Wait until the next model. I'll wake you in a few hours for your watch."
--- Central City
John Stewart wiped the condensation from the mirror, making sure he hadn't missed a spot. He had slowly shaved when he got back from having his hair trimmed, before showering. The drop from the Watchtower had been quiet. Shayera had asked for a ride down, Flash was going to go down with the Javelin. She left him up at 10,000 feet and had glided off towards the mountains. She had turned her comm off, he hadn't asked where she was going.
Trying to keep his mind off the winged woman, he inspected himself like a boot fresh to the Corps. Not under Kat'ma's eye in the Lantern Corps, but under Gunnery Sargent Iverson's at Paris Island. Former Embassy and Recon Marine, Gunny had expected everything to be perfect, and no boot was brave or stupid enough to willfully disappoint the hard edged man. For this event, even Gunny's standards were just barely good enough. Once he was satisfied, John slipped his ring on his finger, his eyes closing slightly as the energy surged through him. Breathing in, he summoned his uniform, knowing that it would be perfect, unmarked, energy and thought given form. Feeling the slightly unfamiliar weight of the long coat over his shoulders, John shrugged and flexed to let it sit properly.
Stepping onto the small balcony off the bedroom and overlooking the alley, John breathed in, smelling the city, listening to it. This is what he swore to defend, as a Marine, as a Green Lantern, and as a member of the Justice League. This is what they had died to protect. Warping the energies of the ring around him, he took to the sky.
--- atop a small mountain, west of Gotham and Metropolis
Shayera Hol knelt near the top of a mountain, not feeling the breeze as it ruffled her long, red hair. Her mace and helmet sat on the ground, next to her, as she cradled her face in her hands. Here, alone, she could mourn. She mourned the friend she had never let herself get to know and the ally she never fully let herself trust, each of them so like her. She mourned the home she had not seen in too many years, and no longer thought of every day. She mourned her confidence, her conviction, her lack of doubt. She sobbed until the tears passed, and the pain was replaced.
She raised her head, looking into the sky that wasn't quite blue enough to her, once, but now she knew it as if she had been born in it. Lowering her eyes, she felt the wind now, feeling it run it's fingers over her hair to comfort her, over her cheeks to wipe all signs of tears from her cheeks. She looked out over the mountains, the forests. In the distance, she could see the healing scar of a decapitated mountain, slowly filling with trees and water in the gouged out mine. The Earth was healing, repairing, slowly, but detectable on the scale of an individual's life.
A flash of movement caught her eye. She smiled at what she saw, the first flight of a young falcon, prodded by it's parents, then it's sibling. For a moment, she thought she was home again, then she realized that she was just home. Hooking her mace on her belt, and dropping her helmet on her head, Shayera stepped off the drop, her wings spread.
--- Watchtower
Hippolyta's hand rested on the curved plastic of the observation lounge as she watched the world pass below her. It was the first time she had ever left the Island in thousands of years, and now she was above the gods themselves. She watched the Mediterranean roll past, really seeing it's full smallness for the first time. From here, Thermescara would have not even have been a dot, if it was not cloaked by Hera. She had spent the night reading her daughter's diary, recorded in a form of Greek characters that had changed over time on the isolated island. She now understood her daughter a little better, understood the decisions that had resulted in her banishment. It still hurt to remember the choice, but there really hadn't been a choice.
"Your Majesty, it is time.
"Thank you, J'onn." Stepping back, Hyppolita examined her ceremonial robes in the reflection. Turning her back on the world below her, she walked in silence with J'onn. She said nothing until they reached the hanger bay. In the cavernous room, the Javelin sat ready. Flash and Superman were already aboard, the former running through a preflight checklist, the full version for a change. Superman was strapped into one of the passenger seats, behind Flash, already asleep. The manila folder containing the eulogy was under his thigh, held down against any kind of oddity in this flight. His face, even with his eyes closed, was lined with stress, aging him dramatically.
Hippolyta took the seat across from the Kryptonian, her eyes softening. He had done as much as any of Diana's allies to help protect Thermescara. After she fumbled the odd mechanism of the safety belt around her waist, she reached out and laid her hand on his. He and the others almost made her doubt her decision, but it had been made.
Slipping into the copilot's seat, J'onn looked over his shoulder to make sure The Queen had remembered how to fasten the buckle of the restraint. Satisfied, he turned to assist Flash with the last of the preflight. A chore done every four hours normally, it was something that couldn't always be done immediately before each flight because of how fast situations could change. The luxury of doing a full and proper checklist and flight plan was comforting to them both, the cautious Martian and the Speedster with the still new pilot's certification.
"Everything looks good to me, J'onn." The man in red glanced over, taking in the nod of agreement that came just before J'onn shut his eyes. Turning back to the controls, he sent the signal to the Watchtower's main computer to pump the air from the landing bay. "Metropolis air traffic control, this is Javelin-7. Have you received our flight plan?"
The ground based control's voice crackled through the headset as shuttle glided from the bay, the bay door closing behind. "This is Metropolis ATC, Javelin, we confirm your flight plan. You and the fighters will be the only things in the sky." Due to the security requirements, civil aviation up and down the east coast was snarled hopelessly for the day. Most of the world's heads of state would be there, or at least senior members of their administrations. It was too tempting a target to take any risks with.
Nudging the thrusters, Flash looked over for a fraction of a second at his copilot, before beginning the flight towards Metropolis. It would take only a few minutes, they were going to reenter over Central City and just glide most of the way down.
--- Metropolis
In a penthouse high above the streets of Metropolis, the three youngest of those who would be in attendance were readying themselves. Tim stuck his head out of the sliding glass doors and looked around. "No one."
The door slid open fully, and the three apprentices of Batman stepped to the edge of the balcony. Dick looked to either side, and raised his arm. Barbara and Tim both nodded, and with a soft hiss, they fired their first grapples into a building further down the street, heading towards the World Assembly. As he fired the next grapple, Tim looked over his shoulder, at Alfred watching them before turning back inside. They could have gotten him into the service, he had every right to be there. But he had declined, saying it made no sense for him to be seen at the funeral, not a servant. The logic was impeccable.
The logic sucked.
They swung in silence, their arms taking the familiar strain of their grapples, each different. Once, they would have all used the same equipment, a long time ago. Now, they had each gone their own ways from Batman, even those stayed near him. It had been a long time, since the had made their way through the urban canyons like this. A wave of nostalgia washed over each of them, remembering. Their eyes automatically picked the next anchor point, their arms swinging, firing and retracting their projectiles, thier minds echoing the missing fourth grapple's silence. They landed atop an auxiliary building to the World Assembly just as the Javelin landed on the edge of World Park. Barbara set her hands on their shoulders, speaking softly. "Come on you two, we have to let people know that the 'batclan' is still around."
With a snort from Tim at the name the media had given them, they anchored their ropes on the safety railing around the roof, and dropped over the edge, out of sight of the dignitaries and press. As they came around the corner of the building, they were immediately surrounded by the media, snapping pictures. Their questions went unanswered. The only defense to the inane, obvious questions was to give the askers a stony silence that would have done Batman proud as the three stepped towards the Cathedral of St. Michael.
Located less than two hundred meters from the World Assembly building, Metropolis' largest cathedral had become a extension of the council chambers in all but name. It had seen the funerals of statesmen before. Today, two simply designed caskets of burnished bronze sat empty, in place of the dead. The wide stairs leading up to the entrance was crowded with dignitaries, security and more media people. And heroes. Some were people they knew, but most were just faces. Doctor Fate, Aquaman, the reformed demon Etrigan, Green Archer. There had never been a gathering like this.
General Stone stopped them at the base of the stairs, extending the condolences of the United States armed forces, saying it was a dark day indeed, and that he hoped the three of them would be able continue in "their father's footsteps." How easily people had made the assumption, and had been making it for years, and ironically part of it had become true. But Nightwing, Batgirl and Robin were Batman's children in the eyes of the world.
Well, not all the world's eyes. A familiar blond head gently slide between the three and the General, hugging each of them. Supergirl spoke quietly, making sure her voice wouldn't carry. "How are you guys holding up?"
Fighting the urge to slump against her friend, Barbara spoke first. "We are making it. He left behind a lot of loose ends that we will have to wrap up."
Instinct overtaking mourning, Tim looked the young heroine up and down. Rather than her normal t-shirt and cut offs, she had worn a new costume, modeled more after Superman's. It made her look more mature, and much more dignified. "We heard about the Toyman. How is your cousin dealing with it?"
It had been easy enough for Barbara to crack the computers at Metropolis General. Early that morning, the half sized villain had suffered a massive stroke. The initial evaluation was that the damage done from the shaking had weakened a vein and either a plaque or small clot had broken through. The doctors believed that the damage would certainly leave him crippled, and possibly mute, if he woke.
"I don't know. I haven't been able to get close enough to talk with him. I spoke with Flash, he said a lot of nothing, but I can't get near Superman."
Eyes flicking towards the media, Dick steered them towards the Cathedral entrance, hoping to find an empty corner. "We saw them come in, he looks horrible."
"It isn't just that, Dick. He hasn't called home since the... incident." Stepping into an empty alcove, Kara Kent looked at the back of Clark's head. "He calls every night, unless he is off planet or something big happening. Aunt Martha and Uncle Jonathan are getting worried. He hasn't been on Earth and not called since the Martian Invasion."
Hugging her best friend, Barbara's face was a mask of concern. "If you need any help, call me. Any time."
"Thanks. I should be the one saying that to you three." The young woman the press called the Farmgirl of Tomorrow wiped her eyes.
"Don't start that, we just got Barb to stop crying." Pulling a packet of Kleenex from a belt pouch, Tim offered it to the young woman, while the other jabbed him in the arm with her elbow.
Smiling gently, Kara shook her head. "You guys are going to be fine, you know that? It isn't that he's gone, you are acting like he is here still." The dirge that had been torturously dragged from the organ began to taper off. "You three need to get to your seats." With that, she headed towards a group of pews on the left of the cathedral filled with heroes of all stripes, super and simply heroic, from Solovar to Metamorpho to Commissioner Gordon.
As surviving family members, the three had their spaces reserved in the front center pew, along with Hippolyta. Her Majesty rose, greeting them. They bowed in return, having been briefed by Alfred how to react to royalty. It was one of the few things, oddly enough, that Bruce's training hadn't covered. "Diana held your mentor in the highest esteem. She cared very much for him."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. He rarely spoke of personal maters, but Batman considered your daughter a close ally. And the closest he came to having friends." Raising her head, Barbara looked at her companions as they took their seats. They had agreed that she would speak for them, given what was known of the Amazons. "They are about to start, may we meet later? We would like to know more about your daughter."
"It is unlikely. Aquaman has also asked to speak with me, as a fellow child of Olympus, to see what knowledge has been lost. After this ceremony, I shall be returning home, and Thermescayra will be hidden forever." She looked down at her hands, the knuckles white as her nails bit into her flesh slightly. "Mansworld is not yet a place for Amazons, and it's inhabitants are even less welcome now."
The room broke out again in a snapping of cameras, the reflected flashes drawing every eye towards the front and stopping all conversation. Superman made his way to the podium, placing the thin folder on top of it and adjusting the microphone a little. He looked about, seeming a little lost and nervous, before he began to speak. The room was utterly quiet, waiting for him, but for the sounds of mourning. Others, such as J'onn, whose eyes glowed softly, his back ramrod straight, did so in silence.
"My fellow citizens of Earth, and friends from other worlds, welcome...
--- elsewhere
Bruce Wayne woke for the second day under the strange sky. But by now, the redness was unnoticeable. What wasn't unnoticeable was the warm form of an Amazon curled next to him under his cloak. Stiffening, he rolled to his feet and looked around, half expecting... something.
"Hmmnn... Good morning." Stretching, Diana rose from the corner of ruined wall that Batman had chosen to sleep in last night. "I hope you don't mind, your teeth were chattering in your sleep."
His teeth clenched, Batman bit of each word. "I was fine."
"You were sleeping on rock, with the wind in your face, in the middle of a high desert. I thought you needed some help." Crossing her arms, Diana pictured the face she knew was under that mask. "What happened to waking me for the next watch? Bruce, I'm not made out of glass, even if my powers are gone for now."
"We should move out soon." Walking past her, Batman headed for the waiting vehicle. Feeling her eyes on the back of his head, knowing the truth to her words, the stubbornness of his decision last night, Bruce's shoulders slumped. "Thank you."
--- Metropolis
The League and their allies lifted the coffins. The choices of people to bear them to their final resting place appeared casual, but wasn't, none of this was. Wonder Woman's was the first down the great steps of the cathedral, support by her mother, Hawkgirl, Princess Audrey, Batgirl, Supergirl and J'onn J'onz, while Batman was born by Superman, Nightwing, Robin, Commissioner Gordon, Flash and John Stewart. Side-by-side, the were carried the five blocks to Peace Park at the center of Metropolis, the streets lined ten and twenty deep in places with citizens, along with every window. Behind to coffins, the leaders and heroes of the world followed in a grim parade. Dick noticed one face in particular in the crowd, well dressed, a face that filled the young man with a flash of anger. But Selena had loved Bruce, in her own way. Criminal or not, she had a right to be here as well.
The media coverage had been amazing considering that aircraft were banned, and every rooftop was already claimed by security teams. They few that weren't had people who wouldn't be all that friendly to the people with cameras, forcing the newspeople to perch on the top of their vans or follow in the wake of the procession. The unblinking, incorruptible eye of the camera traced the voyage.
Stopping before the larger than life marble edifice, the pallbearers lowered the caskets into above ground crypts. Normally, the slabs to seal them would have been placed later by heavy equipment, but not this time. First Batman's, then Wonder Woman's slabs were slid into their places by the heroes of Earth. The two would continue to stand watch for all time, captured in pure white stone. The base of the monument was composed of the likeness of the thick, ancient wall of a stone fortress. Wonder Woman stood regal, her foot on the raised edge of the wall, looking for danger from the East, and towards Thermyscara. Batman's cloak billowed slightly behind him, as he stood tall, his arms crossed, looking towards the West, and out over America. This is how the would forever be remembered.
Sherya looked up at the statues, admiring them. They were not what she had been afraid of. The work was exceptionally well done, drawing inspiration from both Greeco-Roman and modern styles, as befitting the two it would commemorate. She had to look at them, so she wouldn't have to see the spectacle this had become. She would have continued to look as long as possible, until her head snapped around at the sound of a Martian voice grunting in pain....
---
"Snapper, this is Jim at the studio. What is happening?"
"I'm not sure, Jim. It looks like Superman has collapsed. He is surrounded by the members of the Justice League and the other pallbearers, we can't get a good view. As many of you may know, he has been working nonstop since the deaths of Batman and Wonder Woman, with the families and making the arrangements for the ceremony today. Let me get closer, to see what I can find out...."
---
Author's notes:
Although I'm not catholic (far from it), the choice of saints for the cathedral scene was obvious. For those who don't know, according to Judeochristian lore, the Archangel Micheal the head of the asskicking division of heaven.
The 24K ration is fictional. Products similar, although not as concentrated and more palatable, are produced by a number of firms, with perhaps the most famous being the widely used Mainstay ration.
If you are landing the Shuttle in Florida, you reenter above Texas. Go North, and a New York/Metropolis glide path has you coming in over the Chicago/Central City area. And from the maps we have seen, Central is definantly in the Chicago area.
Survivial is easy for the mechanism of the flesh. But the mind within is much less robust, much more easily broken.