Batman vs Predator: The Next Generation

by Carycomic

Chapter 16

INDIAN CREEK, COLORADO (JUNE 11, 1894)

Abednego Danner got out of bed, at his wife's insistence, to answer the even more insistent knocking at the back door of their house. But, as he raised the kerosene lamp in his right hand, while opening the back door with his left, the angry rhetorical question concerning whether or not this mysterious visitor knew what time of night it was, died in his throat.

"Mein Gott!" he exclaimed. "Kapitan Nem - - -"

"Shhhh!" replied the visitor with an index finger to his lips. "Not so loud, sir. My name is Curtis Knox. Captain; U.S. Army Medical Corps! And there's something I need your help with, quite urgently."

"Ja! Ja!" replied Danner, immediately getting the hint. "Of course."

Two minutes later, what he saw in the light from the lamp, lying in the back of the horse-drawn ambulance, made him gasp, once more.

"Gott in Himmel! Vas ist. . .?"

"That's what you and I have to determine, old friend," whispered the erstwhile Harold Duggan (ex-Confederate States Navy). "A bounty hunter named Jonah Hex somehow captured this thing alive, while secretly working for U.S. Army Intelligence in northeastern Utah to prevent a war between the Navajo and the Utes over mutilated sheep! I'm presently keeping it paralyzed with curare while I- -and a hand-picked platoon of soldiers- -transport him to Denver for trans-shipment to the Medical College of Virginia in Richmond. But, we've briefly detoured here so that you can collect some biological samples for 'independent analysis'."

"I don't understand, mein herr," Danner confessed.

"Hex described this thing's strength and agility as 'other-worldly'. I therefore need your help discovering the secrets behind those traits. Help me to isolate them... and duplicate them."

Two days later, Danner read in the local newspaper about how a train, en route from Denver to Chicago, was attacked by a man-like creature of extraordinary size, strength, and agility. How it seemed to center that attack on a box car containing a platoon of cavalry soldiers headed home on furlough. How it killed all but one of them (the commanding officer), single-handed, before escaping. And how one of the witnesses, a vacationing Englishman, could only liken the creature to the fabled 'Spring-heeled Jack'.

SOMEWHERE NEAR GOTHAM CITY, NJ (JUNE 2007)

"Captain!" exclaimed Data in an urgent whisper. "Look over here, sir."

The man posing as 'Special Agent Dixon Hill' came over to the android's side... and read the identifying placards at the foot of some of the other tubes.

"LITTLEJOHN, WM. H.

Subject #00002."

"RENWICK, JOHN

Subject #00003."

"ROBERTS, T.J.

Subject #00004."

"BROOKS, T.M.

Subject #00005."

"MAYFAIR, A.B.

Subject #00006."

"Good Lord!" muttered Picard. "It's the Fearless Five."

"The Fearless Five?" echoed Wesley in bewilderment.

"Doubtless you have heard of Dr. Clark Savage, Junior," replied Data. "The philanthropic polymath who was, among other things, a visionary architect."

Wesley nodded. "His designs were later used for the original blueprints of the Millennium Gate."

"Correct. But, during Earth's Great Depression, he was also a quasi-judicial criminologist... whose chief allies were a quintet of adventurers collectively known by the sobriquet, 'The Fearless Five'. However, their presence here, in primitive cryostasis, poses something of a conundrum."

"In what way?"

It was Picard who answered that one.

"According to the history texts, in our time, they were killed aiding Dr. Savage on one last mission. To a region of the Himalayas known as the Leng Plateau!"

NORTHWESTERN BURMA

(OCTOBER 30, 1962)

The DC-3 (call sign 'Dakota Sue') had taken off from a British aircraft carrier anchored just outside the territorial waters of India's Bay of Bengal. From there, it had flown northeastward toward what was loosely known as 'East Pakistan' before turning on to its present course. There were only nine men aboard the plane. The pilot; the co-pilot/navigator; the crew chief/jump master; plus their six passengers. The latter being old hands at the nocturnal skydive they were soon going to perform.

Monk Mayfair had half-seriously said it best for all of them. "Don't you think we're getting a little long in the tooth for this, Doc? Even with that age-retarding Kuvuru Formula flowing through all our veins?"

The Man of Bronze had allowed himself at least half a grin.

"Task Force X needs that listening post, Monk. This Chinese invasion of India; the coups in Burma and Ceylon! They're occurring too close together for comfort. If this is a joint Sino-Soviet push against SEATO, with the Cuban missile crisis just an elaborate ruse to keep the Pentagon distracted, Washington needs to know for certain."

Eight hours later, the pilot- -Captain Waldo Newton (RAF)- -announced that they were sixty seconds from the jump zone. So, one minute later, Doc Savage and the Fearless Five bailed out of the plane, landing just the other side of the Burmese border from the area where India and Tibet hypothetically came together, as well.

"Long Tom! How are the electronic components?"

"Not a scratch, Doc."

"What about the extra ordnance, Monk?"

"Fine and dandy, Doc."

"Then, what are we waiting for, brothers? Let's go!"

Twenty-four hours later, they had reached their destination: the fabled Temple of Shadows. But, the fight they came upon, already in progress, made even the normally impassive Man of Bronze drop-jawed with amazement. For one of the combatants was a nightmarish creature, at least seven feet tall, with bluish, scaly skin; braided strands of hair atop its head; and a battle cry that could only be described as 'unearthly'!

MEANWHILE, NEAR GOTHAM CITY (JUNE 27, 2001). . .

The Dynamic Duo and Batgirl had rendezvoused with a certain moving van near an unpaved access road into the national forest. The driver of which activated the remote-controlled tail gate so his three visitors could maneuver their motorcycles up into the rear compartment.

"You made good time, Lucius," said Batman.

"I've learned to make due with short notices from Alfred," quipped Lucius Fox over the intercom. "At any rate, Batgirl's spare costume is in the rear seat of the BATV. Just remember to look away while she's dressing. And Alfred says that goes double for Robin!"

"Killjoy," muttered the Teen Wonder who nonetheless complied.

In less time than it takes to tell, the Terrific Trio were driving down on to the county road in their six-wheeled all-terrain vehicle. Following which, the tailgate reascended, concealing the motorcycles from view, before the moving van drove off the way it had come. Simultaneously, the BATV left a few tread marks on the asphalt before making its way on to the dirt road leading roughly due westward.

"Everybody's night-vision goggles working perfectly?" asked the Dark Knight.

"Roger that," chorused Robin and Batgirl.

"Radar-jamming countermeasures activated?"

"Running smoothly," replied the Teen Wonder.

"Flux capacitor's to power. Oscillation overthruster's to speed," added the Distaff Daredevil.

Robin turned around and looked at her quizzically. Whereupon, she grinned, apologetically.

"It's a line from an old sci-fi story I read. Too good to resist!"

As the BATV continued wending its way toward the erstwhile Camp Second Chance, back aboard the Federation runabout Housatonic Mr. Spock continued monitoring all the telecommunication bands and computer databases he could access. Much to the ever-growing annoyance of Commander Riker!

"Ambassador!" he finally exclaimed. "With all due respect, sir; what the blazes are you trying to accomplish, here?"

"Accumulating evidence that I am not mistaken in a certain hypothesis I've been formulating. A hypothesis that becomes more of a certainty with every passing second!"

"I don't suppose you'd feel inclined in sharing that hypothesis with me."

"As a matter of fact, I deem now the proper time to do so. The Gotham City of the early twenty-first century, to which we have been brought, is not the same as that of our world. Mr. Crusher and the Traveler have brought us to a parallel Earth!"

Riker was literally speechless for a good five seconds, at least.

"Come, again?" he finally managed to utter.

"You heard me correctly, commander. It began when the Traveler mentioned a nearby Native American reservation. He said some of the inhabitants have descendants living on Dorvan IV.* But, it is Dorvan V where those descendants founded their colony! At least, in the 24th century of our universe."

"A slip of the tongue," suggested Riker. "Even time travelers can't remember everything!"

"Precisely the reason I initially dismissed it," countered Spock. "But, then, I remembered the Eugenics Wars. In our universe, they ended on Earth in 1996. Just five years ago, in this time period. Yet, from what we have seen of Gotham City, thus far, much of its infrastructure is surprisingly intact. So, I did some checking within the local news media. Particularly, television satellite images of the skies over Portage Creek, Indiana, in the North American Midwest. Observe!"

Riker did observe; for a good ten seconds, anyway. He then demanded to know (a little less diplomatically, this time) what he was supposed to be looking at.

"The famed Millennium Gate. The prototype for Earth's first extra-planetary colonies. It should be well into the first phase of construction by this point! Yet, it is nowhere to be seen. So, I began reaching even further back into history. Do you remember the name of the scientist who first succeeded in mass producing genetically enhanced humans?"

Riker nodded. "A geneticist named Lionel Luthor. His father, Alexis, emigrated to the American state of Kansas from eastern Europe after World War II, where he agriculturally engineered the root-stock of quadrotritacale. He followed in his father's footsteps and then some. Only to later be massacred, along with his wife and only son, by one of his own creations. A hunchbacked albino the tabloids dubbed 'Bizarro'! But, what's that got to do with this?"

"Watch as I replay this news story from the nearby city of Metropolis."

Riker once again did as instructed. And, this time, he became positively open-mouthed with amazement as he watched a man in a blue-red-and-gold costume (with matching cape) flying about, completely unaided, at almost eye-blurring speed. Culminating with two clenched-fist blows to the cranial CPU of a hundred-foot tall robot walking about on three legs!

"The CEO of Lexcorp- -Lex Luthor, himself- -had no comment as to why this robotic space probe prototype allegedly malfunctioned. But, once again, the good people of Metropolis have Superman to thank for there being no lives lost. This is Lois Lane, reporting live, for GBS."

tbc

*See Chapter 3

*See Chapter 3