Gold Justice, Chapter 5: Reflections

The only Gold Lantern in the universe made his way back to Mt. Justice, and the only other home he'd ever known, carrying his bottle of what the salesgirl had labeled perfume. As he flew, he angled over the city, flying over the place where Sarah's house…had apparently never been. As before, the lot was vacant, and showed no signs of ever holding a house such as he'd seen. "Puzzled" didn't begin to describe his state of mind. He knew he had the right address; how could it be that there was no sign of a house here?

He hovered there in the air over the vacant lot. Who, what had Sarah been? It was obvious to him now, from his new perspective, that she wasn't just an immature human female. Somehow or another she'd been involved with his ring changing the way it had. She'd even taught him his new recharging oath.

The Guardians had told him that the various colors of the ring wielders related to certain emotions: green was willpower, yellow was fear, red, rage, and so forth. But they'd had no knowledge of what emotion the color gold could be associated with. Gold was like yellow, but it wasn't, for some reason. It wasn't the same. If they'd had any knowledge of what emotion said color could be related to, they'd not shared it with him.

And another thing, somewhat unrelated: he was coming to realize that, every time he'd met Sarah, she'd found him. She just seemed to find him whenever she needed to, while he had no idea even what she was, let alone how to find her.

That was discouraging, to him. Sarah obviously had some answers for him, but she wasn't divulging any. His ignorance was beginning to chafe.

Back to Mt. Justice. "Ragnar!" Megan ran up to meet him, there in the outer hallway. "I'm glad you're back! They said you'd left, but nobody knew where you'd gone! You really shouldn't go out into the city without m-, I mean, one of us. You're still learning, you know."

"I know, Megan. I went to this 'mall' you told me about. I just wanted to see what it was. It was…." He paused. "Interesting. And confusing. I'm sorry if I troubled you."

"Well, you're back, safe and sound. Just don't go out like that without, without letting us know, okay?"

"Very well. Oh, this is for you." He handed her the bottle of perfume.

Her eyes widened and she blushed crimson all over her face. He wondered why she did that. "For, for me? Ragnar….Victoria's Secret? How did you wind up there? And how did you buy this?"

"It was given to me by the salesgirl in that store. She did not request payment; evidently, her parents were among those I rescued from the Joker. But she told me to give this to my special friend. You are certainly special, to me. Is—is it okay?"

Megan's cheeks were still burning. "Uh, y-yeah, Ragnar, it's okay. Uhm. Thank you!" She flung her arms around him, privately grateful that Wally wasn't loitering around. "But how did you wind up in that particular store?" He told her of his escapade, his dodging into the nearest store in order to get away from the very insistent saleslady outside, and of his conversation with the girl in the store. "She advised me not to buy any of the garments there, and I accepted that. I couldn't have, anyway. But I'm still mystified by the function of those garments. They couldn't have been designed to keep any secrets. Not only did none of them have pockets, most of them were transparent. So I'm puzzled."

Still blushing. "Ah, that's a story for another time, Ragnar. But thank you for this! This, this is expensive perfume!"

"You are most welcome." He paused. "I came back, looking over where Sarah's house…was. I could detect nothing there that indicated there had ever been a house there. Yet I know I dropped her off there, before."

"Ragnar…all that sounds like the beginnings of a cosmic mystery. Maybe someday, we'll puzzle it out, but for now, I guess we take it for what it's worth. The answers will come, in time. Or they won't. But either way, there's no more we can do about that." She again flung her arms around him, this time kissing him on the cheek, the way the salesgirl had. "And, and thank you again. You may not be aware of this, but I really don't get gifts like, like this all that often."

He turned to her, there in the outer entrance room to the main chamber. Raised an eyebrow. "Well. Then I shall have to correct that."

…

En route to sector 0875, Arisia's ring chimed. The Guardians were calling. "Lantern Arisia," Ganthet's image began. "We note that you are proceeding to sector 0875. You should know that Lanterns Tamar Roj and 'X'lyn have ceased to report. Their rings indicate that they are deceased. Whatever force they encountered, it evidently proved too much for them.

"So you and your team are to proceed with extreme caution. Scan the area carefully, and locate the source of the disturbance. Under no circumstances are you to take action without further word from us. Instead, once you have identified the source of the problem, you are to immediately fall back and contact us. As of now, we need your reconnaissance more than ever."

"Yes, Masters. I will do as you say. But have you any idea as to what I'm supposed to be looking for?"

"None. That is why your mission is so vital. Do not, repeat, do not engage any opponents you discover. Instead, report back to us, and we will decide what to do next. But it is vital that we know the cause of the deaths of two of our Corps members. Intelligence gathering is the primary purpose of your mission. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Masters."

….

"…don't buh-leeve it! He actually gave her some perfume from Victoria's Secret? He's either the smoothest player I've ever met, or the most clueless." Kid Flash and Nightwing were walking down the hallway. Wally frowned, slightly. "I guess he couldn't very well be both, could he?"

"Well, believe it." Nightwing sighed. "And, honestly, I'm not sure which of those two categories he falls into myself. But that's their business: no spreading gossip, got it?"

"Oh, I won't breathe a word of it! I promise!"

Famous last words, sighed Nightwing. Too late he remembered a running gag there at Mt. Justice: there were four means of mass communication on Earth: internet, radio, television, and Tell Wally.

…

Ragnar's room: He'd summoned his power battery, and was preparing to charge his ring.

Something nagged at the back of his mind. From what he'd gleaned from the Green Lanterns, their central power battery was actually fueled, and home to, a living entity. That seemed especially bizarre to him, but that was what he'd gathered.

So…if the analogy held up, his power battery, the only one of its kind in existence (that he knew of, he cautioned himself) was perhaps the home of some entity from which he drew his power. He wondered: could that entity be Sarah? It made a certain amount of logical sense.

He held his ring against the interface, and recited:

"To those in fear, I come to aid.

Let those who cause fear be afraid.

Nevermore shall one fear fright,

So swear I, by this Golden Light!" And the ascending tone of his ring bespoke of its full power charge.

Still holding it against the battery, he willed a question: Sarah? Are you there? And he waited, though, in all honesty, he couldn't have said what he was waiting for.

No answer. Somehow, he wasn't surprised; he'd been privately wondering if whoever, whatever the being whom he knew as Sarah Marshall even existed. Had she been a figment of his imagination, all along? But how? She'd known things he didn't know, couldn't know, himself, and had given him money that was evidently real. He couldn't have conjured up anything of a permanent nature with his ring, even subconsciously. He withdrew the ring from the battery's interface, lowering his arm, and thought.

All the evidence pointed towards "Sarah" being a creature independent of his own thought, who had, for some reason, selected him for some task. But even though he possessed a natural talent for solving puzzles, he couldn't divine the answer to this one….

All at once, a cascade of images ran through his mind. He saw world after world, desolate, empty, the corpses of their dominant life-forms piled high. Overall was a feeling of doom, of impending catastrophe even greater than these. In each and every one, he saw some form—some figure—standing in dark triumph, laughing gleefully at the destruction it had wrought. In his mind, he came up behind the figure, grabbed it by the shoulder, and yanked it around. He wanted to see the face of this monster who'd murdered worlds.

And in every case the face that stared back at him, though distorted with evil mirth, was his own.

To be continued…