Knight of Wonder

Act III

Scene 2: Blind Justice

The Fortress of solitude always did seem to Bruce like a gaudy display of self-worship. Never mind the hours it took to fly to the obscure region of the arctic that Clark irrationally decided to make his home. It was mostly the contrast between the minimalist layout of a base of operations set into a crudely electrified cave versus a base of operations made out of crystal.

That wasn't everything of course. There were the strange and exotic Kryptonian beasts that Clark had cloned in S.T.A.R. Labs which growled at the bat-like creature which flitted through their fields of vision. They sat there in glass enclosures as reminders of a dead world and, since virtually no one ever came to visit, basically for Clark's personal amusement as far as Bruce could tell. As he left the zoological corridor, Bruce pondered at what Clark could possibly be feeding such creatures. Then again, it wasn't like Bruce really cared all that much anyway.

These living displays accompanied the more suitably dead ones in the next hall. Bruce would have readily admitted that his Rogue's Gallery back at The Cave might have been a somewhat bold display of trophy collecting not unlike the behavior of certain criminals he had brought in to justice over the years; the subject of hours of self-psychoanalyzing on the Dark Knight's own part. However it was nothing when compared to the monument hall at The Fortress. A great stone statue of some nameless Kryptonian, a couple stories tall, towered over neatly arranged rows of relics: armor, tools, and technology. There was even a mostly intact Kryptonian burial mask behind which, Bruce knew, was a silently recording bat shaped listening device. Bruce didn't trust anyone, least of all an alien with powers akin to a God, despite their having laid aside that argument years ago for the greater good. Still, Bruce suspected that Clark also knew the device was there since his superior senses should have picked up on it ages ago. Bruce had his excuses ready but Clark had never said anything to him about it for some reason. Maybe he was trying to prove he had nothing to hide. Not that it mattered much. All it usually picked up were animal sounds from the adjacent corridor and the distant sounds of Frank Sinatra which Clark would insist on blasting while he did work around the complex. There was one time Bruce thought he was about to hear something he didn't want to hear when that Louis Lane woman had visited, so he respectfully stopped listening and destroyed the tape. Even the ever vigilant Dark Knight had to have some boundaries.

It was into this grandiose setting that the telltale sound of flapping fabric and the feel of cold air against exposed skin finally gave sign to the arrival of the Man of Steel. Bruce knew he didn't have to call for him. All he needed to do was stride around the place enough and Clark would hear him. As it was, Clark was looking a little tired as he appeared standing next to what appeared to be an ancient Kryptonian religious relic. Bruce wondered to himself just what would cause someone so powerful to lose sleep, but he kept his theories to himself.

"So the mighty Batman finally comes out of his cave. To what do I owe this great honor?" Clark asked with some bite.

"You can cut the wounded pride routine. I'm here on business," Bruce defended in a level tone.

"You know we do business at The Watchtower as well, but I suppose whatever it is you do instead is too important for all that," Clark spat back.

Bruce took a patient sigh before pointing out, "For all you know it could be. You don't accompany me on my night time outings any more than I presume to help you stop an earthquake in Eritrea. It is because of that lack of ability that I take some liberties in my duties with The League. When I'm not there, you at least have my Watchtower."

Clark looked as though he wanted to respond but his expression quickly grew glum. Bruce, for his part, was able to keep the urge to smirk buried in his typically stoic look. It always pained Clark whenever Bruce brought up the fact that the Batman lacked any sort of real superpowers because Clark never had an adequate response to it.

"Very well, but my question remains the same. Why have you come?" Clark asked in a voice that sounded as though he was actually willing to listen this time.

Much better Bruce thought to himself as he answered, "I've come to give you a warning about the very thing I just mentioned. I know you and the rest of The League had a vote and I know I wasn't there, but I'm here now to urge you not to dismantle The Watchtower just yet. There's something afoot and I haven't figured out what it is yet."

Clark assumed a wide stance and crossed his arms, but his verbal response was less firm. "Bruce, despite appearances, I do trust you. You've earned that trust time and again, but I must warn you, I doubt there's anything you could say that will change my mind on this issue. A new era of global harmony is on the line here."

Raising a hand, Bruce gently implored his stalwart rival, "Please, just hear me out."

For a moment, it seemed as though Clark might shake his head and fly off, but at length he nodded. "Okay, what makes you think we should keep the Watchtower?"

"It was something The Joker said," Bruce tossed out there.

Clark almost laughed. "Isn't he your greatest enemy? Why would you ever give anything he says any credence ever?"

Bruce actually swayed where he stood for a moment. This was a question he had asked himself several times before coming here, but his answer was difficult to subvert. "It was because of the sight of him," he finally said. "He escaped mere weeks after I put him away. There wasn't even time to properly put him through the justice system before he was back out, but when he got out he lead me straight to him. And when I got to him he broke a little too easily. Diana showed up and it was like she thrashed the crazy out of him. I know The Joker. I profiled him and tracked him for years. He has never been swayed by threats of punishment or death and almost always plays a final trick, yet he broke all of these habits in our last meeting. He looked… changed. Like whatever they had done to him during his brief incarceration was enough to finally break his spirit. Somebody else wanted to take me down… to take us down, and whoever they are, they wanted to do the impossible and focus Joker at us like a weapon. The only thing they didn't know that I did was that controlling The Joker like that would take some kind of psychological reprogramming on the order of the cruel and inhumane, and he looked like it. He was barely walking Clark…"

Clark looked confused. "I don't understand. Isn't he the one who almost murdered your friends? I would have thought the sight of him in pain would have been welcome to you."

Bruce looked incredulously at his rival. "And I thought you of all people would have understood the concept of compassion even for those who hurt us the most."

Looking momentarily wounded, Clark admitted, "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm talking about something I know nothing about. But still, I don't see what any of this has to do with The Watchtower."

"Like I said," Bruce explained, "Or rather, as Joker said. He had been tortured to within an inch of his life and when that failed they went after the only person he evidently cares about in the world. They wanted to hurt us, and they have the resources to keep trying. And worst of all, 'they' is the government in this case, according to Joker's claims. I know you don't want to hear this but it sounds like your friend the President made a deal behind our backs to make sure we're out of the picture permanently."

"You know I can't believe that," Clarke interjected. "Especially when it's coming from the mouth of a known psychopath."

"Do you mean The Joker or me?" Bruce quickly countered.

Clarke shook his head. "Okay, to be honest, I don't care who it's from. The President puts a lot of faith in me to get the job down and there's no way he'd jeopardize that relationship."

"Even if it was to attain the very thing you have both worked so hard to achieve since he took office?" mentioned Bruce. Clarke was lost for words again which finally brought a grin to Bruce's face. "It looks like you don't know politicians like I do Clark. When given the choice between betraying a friend and reaching their goal, or sticking to their principles and losing what they want in the process, they almost always chose the former. Yes even Presidents… no matter how much they might claim to tell it to you straight. Face it Clark, your friend sold you out over this nuclear deal and you are playing right along without even knowing it."

For a long while, Clark simply stood there lost in thought. Bruce waited patiently for his wayward compatriot to piece together the dots, but he was somewhat disappointed when Clark finally looked up and said, "I'm sorry, I can't handle this kind of information. I need to go clear my head."

And without so much as a 'by your leave,' Clark had vanished down a corridor and out of the Fortress. Bruce sighed. He fancied himself rather clever at being able to vanish mid-conversation, but his ability was nothing next to the Man of Steel who probably even now was going on one of his ridiculous global circumnavigations of the kind he usually took when particularly upset by something. It was always the subject of some disillusionment for Bruce when Clark would deal with his issues in such ridiculous displays. In the end, all he could do was shake his head and make his way toward the exit on his own, decidedly less terrific, feet.

As he held his cape up to shield himself from the gusts of a sudden blizzard, Bruce's mood grew steadily worse. One would think a quasi-god could make his home literally anywhere in the universe. The fact that it was in the middle of the arctic was simply maddening. So after he entered the pilot seat of the Batwing and brought the craft hissing to life, he was forced to brush snow from his armor and mutter to himself bitterly as he did so, yet again. So this was the thanks he got for trying to listen to Diana and talk some sense into Clark. Well it wasn't worth the numbness in his fingers. Despite his presence here as Batman, he had stayed true to Diana's demand for no more anti-criminal activity. Instead he was reduced to trying to drum up support for the cause of keeping The Watchtower. Maybe J'onn and Barry would be more reasonable.

A few hours later and the silently rotating shape of The Watchtower was growing in size through the main viewport. Bruce shook his head to fight off the numb stupor he was feeling after so many hours spent flying to the arctic and then into the frigid climbs of orbit not long after. His ears hurt from the pressure enough that he was tempted to reach for the stick of gum he had stashed beneath the seat but there wasn't enough time and it would have been beneath his dignity to show up at the tower he built in full gear and blowing a bubble. Bruce always hated flying to The Watchtower.

A few minutes later and the port side airlock hissed open to reveal a very concerned looking Flash. "What's wrong Barry?" Bruce asked immediately as he glided into the entrance corridor.

"It's J'onn, I think there's something wrong with him. Come on, I'll how you!"

Without another word, Bruce followed the Flash as they both clutched the hand rails and zipped down the hall and into the nearby observation deck. Banks of computers whirred and chirped as they carefully kept track of world events, and there, on the ground by one of the servers, lay the Martian J'onn, clutching his bald, green cranium and groaning in pain.

Drawing close, Bruce knelt down and got his mini-flashlight out of his belt. He held it up to J'onn's eye which had gone a bright yellow. Bruce put his flashlight away and stood up shakily in the low gravity. Turning to face Barry, Bruce explained, "J'onn's gone into some kind of telepathic trance. I watched him do this once, before he was part of the league." Bruce turned a pitying glance to the Martian. "Whoever's thoughts he's experiencing right now must be particularly unpleasant."

Just then, the Martian shot out a hand and grabbed Batman's cape. Bruce was forced to steady himself against the wall to remain upright while the light in J'onn's eyes faded back to normal. "Batman! Flash! We have to warn everyone!" the alien cried.

"What is it J'onn?" Bruce demanded.

"Yeah, what did you see?" Barry followed up.

"Green… Lantern," gasped J'onn.

"Where is he, man?" Barry questioned earnestly. "He's been gone for a while. Is he in trouble?"

"He's in prison… Highfather's prison. We are betrayed… Darkseid is coming for us. We have to prepare!"

Bruce could feel a tingle of cold sweat as it trickled down his spine. He shot a look at Flash and found his own expression of grave concern reflected.