DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:GO
There were no classes over the weekend, and yet there were hundreds of students about campus of the New York City College of Technology. Projects were being worked on, study groups were gathering, professors were holding office hours, and so word spread like wild fire when Wonder Woman had touched down outside the Physics building.
Her feet had barely lit on the ground before she was stalking up the stairs and into the three story brick building. Diana wanted to run through the near empty corridors, but was mindful of the stares turned her way at her already accelerated pace. She found the second floor office easily enough, the room number provided by the building directory posted on the first floor. She allowed a brief knock at the closed door before pushing it open.
The middle aged man looked up quickly at the sudden intrusion. His eyes widened at the identity of his guest, the pencil in his hand dropping back to the mass of papers spread out over the desk.
"Mr Jeremiah Solt?"
"Uh, yeah... Yes!" He stood suddenly, his chair rolling back at the rapid movement until it struck the wall behind him. "Yes, although it's Dr Solt, or will be once I subm-"
"Mr Solt," Wonder Woman interrupted as she nudged the door to close behind her as stepped inside. "You and I need to have a discussion about your dissertation that was stolen several days ago."
"Best thing that ever happened," the man managed without stuttering under her piercing gaze. "It made me rethink just about everything."
"Did it change your speculation on what would happen if one such anomaly was opened inside the atmosphere?"
"No," he shook his head, grave as his brilliant mind began to connect the dots. "Are you telling me-"
"You need to sit down now, Mr Solt," Diana frowned, "then you will tell me everything."
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"But I've already told you everything!" the blonde teenager snapped at the man in green sitting across the table from her.
"I have heard the recording of your interview-"
"You mean interrogation."
Green Lantern scowled at the interruption but otherwise did not acknowledge it. "Your interview with Green Arrow, Batman, and Martian Manhunter."
"So there's nothing more I can tell you!" Artemis shouted, exploding out of her chair. "How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that? I don't know where that bastard would be hiding!"
John rubbed the bridge of hose trying to reign in his own frustration. "There are pieces missing, Artemis," he tried to sound calm but failed miserably. "Even with everything you divulged when you came to the League, there are things you did not tell us about Sportsmaster."
"That's because I don't know them!"
"Artemis," M'gann had remained in the chair beside her friend and now reached up to place a comforting hand on the archer's arm.
"It'll be simpler this time around," John tried to assure her. "We will be focussing on Sportsmaster only and anything he may have mentioned around you."
"Which I already told them the first time," the teen snarled and slumped back into her chair, her arms crossing over her chest. "I haven't seen or spoken to him in almost a year – discounting the few words we exchanged while he was busy kidnapping one of my friends. I don't know anything else!"
"Maybe not consciously," the young Martian said carefully. "I can scan your thoughts, your subconscious memories, as you answer Green Lantern's questions. I might be able to see something you can't."
"Already been done, Megan," Artemis growled with aggravation.
"Your surface thoughts, yes," the Lantern told her. "Martian Manhunter would have only scanned for signs of deception and ill intent. With your permission, Miss Martian can delve deeper."
Megan took her friend's hand in hers and squeezed it in reassurance. "You may not think it relevant, but there may be something you've pushed to your subconscious mind."
Artemis worried at her lower lip, pinching it between her teeth, and looked at the two with a mixture of hope and anxiousness. "You honestly think I'll know where that bastard took Robin?"
"If anyone has any chance," John nodded slowly, "it'll be you."
With a sign of resignation, the blonde nodded. "Let's do this thing then."
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The heavy mace flew through the air and smashed into the wall with a resounding crunch as it buried itself. Hawkman was glaring furiously at the man in the holographic image before him. The dark haired hero was pale at the fury emanating from the winged man. "Come on, Hawk-"
"Shut up, Marvel!" the Thanagarian snarled. "Are you, or are you not, a member of this League?"
"Of course, but-"
"Then what part of an 'Omega Level' call is hard to understand?"
"I can't very well just drop everything here!" the crimson clad hero snapped. "The last aftershock has the trapped minors worried about a second collapse!"
Hawkman leaned forward, his hands on the console as he sighed with the effort of controlling his temper. "Are they in any danger?"
"No, it's stable and they've got supplies for days, but I can't leave them down there just to come back to hunt for Batman's sidekick!"
"Captain Marvel," the winged hero growled through clenched teeth, "I want you to forget, just for a moment, that it's Robin; forget that its one of our own that needs us; forget that these bastards have put some of our strongest members onto the injured list; forget that they may have succeeded in killing Superman. If this goes down like Batman says, then it's the rest of this planet. Not hundreds, not thousands, but billions of lives that are at risk if they attempt to open the wormhole! So get off your red and gold ass and back to the States, now!"
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The cement floor was unforgiving and jarred his already aching arms when Robin was dropped uncaringly from Sportsmaster's shoulder to the ground. Wishing for the relief that came with a lack of consciousness, having regained it only as the helicopter was landing, Robin groaned as he shifted his bound and battered body into a sitting position against the wall of the building he found himself in.
It was large and open, a warehouse that hadn't seen use in years if the state of disrepair was any indication. Dozens of G-gnomes flitted about, swarming around Dubbilex as the telepathic creatures worked to assemble some sort of machine. Guardian spoke quietly to it before nodding and making his way to a set of flat-screen monitors.
Sportsmaster joined the helmed man as they stood in front of a camera and a few seconds later the screens flickered to life. Seven glowing figures illuminated the warehouse.
"Report."
"The last components have been gathered," Guardian bowed his head to the seven.
"The League?"
Sportsmaster snorted. "Ridiculous easy to manipulate; they will pose no problem."
"Superman and the Flash have been taken out of the equation," Guardian confirmed.
"Permanently?"
"Unknown at this time, but potentially."
"The children; any casualties?"
"Sportsmaster got carried away subduing the Atlantean," Guardian snarled in the mercenary's direction. "He would have killed him had I not prevented him from doing so."
"Like I had to stop you from choking Robin to death in Star City," Sportsmaster returned the sneer.
"You assaulted the boy, Guardian?" The voice of one of the seven was surprised at the revelation.
The former hero hesitated. "I do not know what came over me, but what Sportsmaster says is true."
"Maybe you broke him," Robin spoke, forcing the strength into his voice despite the pain lacing through his throat. "Messing with people's brains can do that."
Sportsmaster moved quickly, stepping out of view of the camera and slugging their captive with a vicious right cross to the cheek. The back of Dick's head split open under the force it struck the wall behind him with and he was knocked to his side on the ground. He groaned as he tasted blood in his mouth and glared up at the man standing over him.
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His knuckles ached after the last blow to the thug's body, but Batman did not relent. He struck again, knowing the bruises his hands would be sporting in a matter of hours would be worth it if the schmuck now sliding down the brick wall knew anything.
"Sportsmaster," the cowled vigilante snarled as he bent down and gripped the man's blood stained collar.
Rapidly swelling eyes locked with the piercing gaze of Batman, coughing as the goon tried to regain his breath. "I don't know, I swear! He ain't been in Gotham for weeks!"
"Lie," Batman lifted the man easily and tossed him across the alley and into the wall of the opposite building. He leapt onto the crook again immediately. "He was here, abducting a boy. Now where is Sportsmaster?"
"I don't know! Please! I don't know!"
"Then you know who will." Struggling to keep control, Batman pressed into the man until they were nose to nose. "I want a name, and I want it now!"
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The dry erase board had been clean when Diana had first walked in to the educator's office. Now it was covered with quickly sketched diagrams as Mr Solt had attempted to explain his theory. The end result was a very confused Amazon Princess with a rapidly escalating migraine.
Wonder Woman pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. "So an inanimate object would be pointless as a focal point? Is that what you're saying?"
"Not at all," the man glanced at his companion and swallowed at the expression of frustration on her face. "I'm just saying that the theorem is imprecise at best. Opening a tear without a focus could result in the creation of a black hole; everything within a certain distance of its gravitation pull collapsing into it.
"With an inanimate object, the tear could potentially open a portal to any point in the objects existence. However, it would have to be a specimen of such perfection to ensure the portal opened has only one focus. But everything is contaminated with something else. Nothing is completely elementally pure, so an inanimate object would be too risky. A portal with more than one focus could cause, in theory, a paradox that would unravel time and space."
Why couldn't he say that in the first place instead of prattling on for the last fifteen minutes, Diana would never know. "So what would be the point of possessing a nearly perfect natural diamond if one wanted to create a portal with such a tear?"
Mr Solt shrugged. "It would depend on the other components you suspect to be utilized as well. Most likely it would be used to concentrate the laser being used to 'punch' through the tear."
"So if the diamond is not the focus, and no other object would be considered safe, what would be ideal to use?"
"An organic component would be best," Mr Solt leaned against the wall as he considered. "Initial tests on a plant or insect with a specific life expectancy would ensure any portal successfully opened would be within a certain window of time. Expanding those tests to a large animal – a chimpanzee or ape perhaps – would expand that window. However, using a conscious mind would be the better course as one could theoretically control where in time the portal would open to."
She felt ill. "A conscious mind; so you're saying a human being?"
"Yes."
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"Sportsmaster!" the warehouse reverberated at the shout of one of the seven. "Mind yourself, mercenary, the boy is not to be harmed."
Guardian visibly winced at that and Robin could stop himself from laughing sardonically. "A little late for that..."
A heavy silence fell and a moment later a different voice cut through the speakers. "Bring him forward, Sportsmaster."
The man paled noticeably behind his mask and hesitated before reaching down, lifting the Boy Wonder to stand. Robin stumbled over his feet as he was frog-marched into view of the camera. There were several hissed gasps of surprise at his battered appearance and a new voice sounded menacingly through the warehouse.
"Why is he masked?"
"You wanted Robin," Guardian answered with conviction. "There is no need for the knowledge of his true identity to pass beyond Sportsmaster and myself."
"Very well," a gentler voice spoke. "However, what you have done to the boy is unacceptable! He was not to be harmed! The point to this endeavour was to see the children protected. His condition-"
"Is none of your concern," Sportsmaster spat as he tossed Robin aside and to the floor. "You wanted results and I've gotten you those results. You wanted the Bird? I got him for you! You wanted his cooperation? While it may not be willingly here he is waiting to accomplish what you want! You sit there in front of your cameras with your anonymity and we do what is necessary to see your 'endeavour' succeed! So suck it up and let us do our job!"
Quiet returned and nearly a full minute passed before a softer voice spoke. "Will he survive the opening? At least long enough to stabalize the portal?"
Robin's already rapidly beating heart nearly stopped all together at that question. What portal?
"Dubbilex," Guardian called to the G-gnome who joined them in view of the monitors.
The horned creature nodded to his superior and turned his attention to the quaking boy on the floor. The horns glowed softly and a moment later several of the smaller g-gnomes appeared with medical equipment. Dubbilex began a quick examination.**It is working, young one.**
Dick shook his head and tried to inch away from the creature. Working? Whatever they're planning on doing could kill me! Hell, it will kill me! Guardian isn't a hero anymore, he's the bad guy! And you're helping him do it! I thought you were supposed to be helping me?
**But Guardian has begun to question his actions, he is realizing that he is not entirely in control of his own faculties. Your peril, at his hands, is awakening who he once was. In time he will be Guardian again.**
Will this be before or after he murders me?
"Dubbilex," Guardian questioned, "Can we still utilise the boy?"
Tell him no! Please, don't let them kill me!
The G-gnome stood and turned his back to their captive. "Yes. Despite his injuries he is still strong enough to survive the process, initially. The longer the portal is held, the likelier he will perish. "
"Then it's time to begin. We expect a progress report within the hour." The seven figures on the monitors disappeared.
"Bastard!" Robin snarled and kicked out at the creature, missing when Sportsmaster pulled him roughly to his feet again.
"Get him in to place," Guardian ordered the mercenary.
"With pleasure," the grin hidden behind the mask was as plain as day by the elated tone of Sportsmaster's voice.
Despite Dubbilex's claim of his strength, Robin was unable to fight the larger man as he was led toward the nearly completed contraption in the center of the warehouse. It was circular in design, a donut-like construct seucred to the top of the machine. That was the least ominous part of it. Directly beneath it was a circle of six hooked arms, each ending in a razor sharp point. On the outside of that were two larger arms, longer and completed with the same deadly looking point. The face that he was being led into the center point of the arms was not boding well for his survival.
Sportsmaster suddenly spun his prisoner around and their eyes locked onto one another through their masks. "It's a shame," the man said in a smug whisper. "Poor Bruce Wayne will be getting ready to pay the Ransom tomorrow morning right now so I guess that means Batman won't be here to watch you die."
"You're going to start monologuing now?" Robin grunted as the grip on his arms tightened, keeping him upright as several little g-gnomes appeared and released the padlock securing his shackled wrists behind his back.
"No monologuing," Sportsmaster chuckled as he lifted the boy wonder's arms above his head, spead-eagled, allowing a pair of g-gnomes to latch the manacles on Robin's wrists to the machine's framing just outside the donut-like component overhead. The mercenary took a step back, letting Robin's weight hang from his weary arms. "I'm just letting you know your fate. See, I don't think all of this is going to work. I think you're going to die, painfully and completely alone. No Superman, no Batman, no little team, not one to come swooping in to save the day. And I'm going to watch it with a big smile on my face."
Robin flinched when the arms surrounding him began to move, raising up and curling in around his legs. He cried out at the pain of the six razored points pierced his legs just below his knees. They continued pressing into his flesh until the tips met with bone, leaving Dick gasping for breath and fighting to remain conscious. He was brought out of his daze with the pain of the two longer arms inserting into the meat of his thighs, screaming in agony as he felt the points burrowing into his thigh bone.
Tears stung his eyes, working their way beneath his domino mask. He felt his strength leaving him and his head drooped to his chest as he choked on the realization that Sportsmaster was right.
No one was coming.