The Amazon
December 2, 1939
For what was not the first time (though it was perhaps the last) in the past two months, Steve Trevor was certain that he was about to die. Being of a practical bent, Steve had long understood the risks associated with his profession both pilot and soldier. He had to admit though, that he did not expect to meet his mortal end dangling upside down off a cliff in Brazil having been accosted by a group of locals that were not especially keen on outsiders. In fact, the only reason that he had not entirely given up on the possibility of seeing one more sunrise, was the presence of the woman next to him, the very reason that he had lived long enough to be in such peril.
It started with a mission, handed out with the solemnity reserved for tasks of the highest necessity. Captain Steve Trevor was not merely a skilled pilot, but he was gifted in the realm of intelligence gathering, a valuable skill in a world at war. His father had been a scout during the Great War and Steve spent many evenings sitting on their porch, hoping for another wistful tale from his old man.
His objective had been simple. A series of short stops across the Mediterranean, essentially drop points where sources would relay key information to him. Information on the Axis forces in the area. The U.S. wasn't in the war, but the upper ranks were not content with keeping themselves in the dark for a fight that could be just around the bend. Particularly with how ruthless a showing the Germans had displayed in taking Poland. The false calm that had settled along the continent was only a bout of shadow boxing before the real bloodshed began.
The first few stops had gone off without a hitch, save for a close call near Spain's airspace as some of Franco's lackeys had taken too keen an interest in him. He met his contacts in France, Morocco, Libya, Turkey and Greece. They gave him bundles of documents. Microfilm canisters. Sometimes only a short report, spoken word alone. There was too much movement in the Mediterranean for his liking. The Italians were squaring up for something in North Africa, that was certain. There were also murmurs that the Germans had a new program, one that planned to unveil when the war really got going. Steve didn't sweat the disparate details much. It wasn't his job to pull the signal from the noise. Only to deliver it to the men and women who could.
It was on his way out from Greece that it all went to hell. A squadron of German planes got on his tail. They drove him into a thunderhead he had been skirting the edge of. It was in that storm, where the rain beat down like a hammer and the wind tossed the plane about as if it were a toy, that Steve went down. The story he intended to tell his superiors was that an errant bullet from the Germans struck the engine. The one he told his companion was the truth, that he saw a figure in the flash of lightning, one that cleaved a wing clear from the plane. He did his best to smooth out the descent, but the tumult of waves below approached all too fast for it to matter much.
He didn't recall much from the crash, save for washing up on a beach with sand as white and pure as the first batch of snowfall. Thick foliage bordered the sand, so dense as to appear impenetrable. Steve figured he had died when the next thing he saw was a woman taller than him, in regal attire, running towards him. She cradled his wounded form, then carried him back to her settlement, where he was nursed back to health.
In and out of consciousness, Steve gleaned that he was on an island called Themyscira. His presence was considered an intrusion by the other women, and it was all women. A violation of a sacred law. He was in no condition to spend much time pondering how such a society persisted, or where in the world he had ended up.
For a time, Steve could not understand them. They spoke in a language that sounded like Greek misremembered. They clearly understood him, however. It was during his first week on the island, that a woman with dark skin and long, finely braided hair fed him a broth that tasted of grapes. After this meal, Steve could discern their words as though they were speaking English.
It was only through the impassioned argument of his savior, Diana, that Steve was spared from the more vindictive among the Amazons, as he came to know them. Though she was the daughter of their leader, that did not carry authority on its own. Only in her conviction did she sway the others.
Still, he was forced to stand before the other Amazons, with a golden lasso that compelled his honesty, to explain why he had come to their homeland. He told his story before their queen, Hippolyta, a woman of prodigious wisdom and gravitas. He would learn, in his travels with Diana, that their society was founded in isolation after a reckoning against the armies of Ares and the men that would enslave them. He did not know that to make of these mythological tales, but the wonders present on the island forced a certain consideration of their validity. They lived simply, but they enjoyed a casual technological sophistication that put the outside world to shame. To say nothing of the physical traits they possessed.
The women of Themyscira came in all different sizes and shapes, their appearances indicating countless groups from the world at large, with little favor given to one apparent ethnicity or another. They were all Amazons. They carried loads that the burliest strongman would shirk at and casually ran faster than any Olympic sprinter. And that was merely the baseline inhabitant. Diana was a cut above many of the others, as he would see time and time again.
Beyond the absence of men, there was another missing group that gave Steve pause. There were no children. None at all. Only a few of the Amazons displayed any signs of advanced age, with the majority in that indeterminate range of adulthood. They had a vitality that radiated through them. He discerned that it was a taboo subject after Diana indicated discomfort with the topic of conversation. He came to understand that she was the youngest among them.
Their culture, to the extent he could understand it, hewed towards the Greeks and their ancient mythologies. The Amazons discussed the whims of the gods as though they were present, with their temples to Aphrodite, Athena, Hera and Artemis being most prominent.
Steve did his best to stay out of their way. He contributed what labor he could, though the others performed their communal tasks with ease, while he struggled under their amused looks. His solace came in the beauty of the landscape, the edenic sunsets that clung to the horizon, the lush foliage that interweaved with their dwellings. That and the time he spent with Diana. She was not the only Amazon to interact with him, but she took the most interest in him as a person. Many of the others continued to treat him as though he were a strange animal to be cared for, but not understood.
Though their island was a paradise, Steve knew he had to return to America. The intelligence he had gathered sat somewhere at the bottom of the Mediterranean, the only remnants of it in his mind. Even the limited information he knew was vital enough that it had to be delivered.
His stories of the ailments of the modern world troubled the Amazons. It appeared that they had begun to ignore the goings on of the rest of the globe past a certain point. The prospect of a global war was disturbing to them, a blatant violation of their principles of peace through love.
It was at the end of his third week, that Steve learned he was being released from the island. And not alone. Diana had succeeded in a competition amongst her people, one that she had been initially forbidden from participating in. The queen was displeased, but did not bar her from leaving. She was to be an ambassador for their people into the world at large, an envoy of peace.
They were given a small sail boat and enough provisions. Steve was amused to find that Diana's attire was reminiscent of American stylings, down to the eagle that was emblazoned in gold on her chest. She brought along a silver tiara, gauntlets and the golden lasso that forced anyone bound by it to speak the truth. There was a weightiness to her departure, exchanges unheard by his ears, particularly in her farewell to Queen Hippolyta.
When Steve asked Diana if she knew how to sail to America, she simply said, "The way will become clear in time."
He was still not sure if she actually meant that or was making it up to appear confident.
The voyage that followed was their own private odyssey. Everywhere they traveled trouble lay in waiting. If Steve had retained any skepticism about the fantastical, it was dashed on the rocks of the very clear reality he faced during their travels. An island of beasts drenched in heavy fog, where Diana rescued a shipwrecked crew. A mine on the west coast of Africa where the workers had fallen under the spell of a recently awakened witch. A ghost trawler passing eerily close in the night, hungry leviathans following in its wake.
They grew closer during their travels. It was refreshing, the level of interest with which she approached everything new to her. No food she wouldn't try, song she wouldn't sing. Almost childlike in her wonder, but with a maturity and wisdom that marked Steve as advanced for her lack of experience in the world. Diana never saw a problem she could not meet head on, a group of people in need she could not help.
Which was how they ended up upside down dangling over a cliff in Brazil. A storm had sent them ashore, somewhere near the northern edge of the country, in a remote portion. They had camped in a cave by the water, where they cooked crabs that scuttled along the rocks.
They awoke to a group of the locals surrounding them, demanding that they come to their village. Steve was wary, but Diana held no such reservations, following them with enthusiasm, even as their attitude turned. There was yet to be a language she could not speak, a benefit of her nature, Steve supposed.
He doubted the fall off the cliff could hurt her, beyond the fact that he was fairly certain she could fly. Diana was cagey on that matter, perhaps owing to inexperience with the ability. Nothing she had done in his presence could not also be attributed to jumping quite far.
Steve was also certain that Diana could have simply broken from her bindings and fought their way out if she so desired. Brave as they were, the locals were no match for her strength. It was out of genuine curiosity and compassion that she interacted with them. After much debate, they pulled her back to solid ground and untied her. Steve was left dangling, though he was at least transferred to a cage rather than the nauseous perspective of being held upside down.
"They've told me that we aren't the first outsiders here. There was another group that came through a week ago," said Diana.
"I take it they did not make a good first impression," said Steve.
"That's why they gave us such an unpleasant greeting. I've agreed to track them down, see if they've disturbed one of their sacred sites."
"Why do I get the feeling that I'm the collateral for this?"
"I warned them not to hurt you. At least."
Steve groaned.
"I'll be back soon. Try to make some new friends. A few of them seem like delightful conversationalists."
Diana bounded off into the jungle, chasing down the interlopers. Steve made due with his cage. After some time, the locals let him out, though they demonstrated the futility in trying to run away. He sat with them as the light dimmed, at their fire. They shared a portion of their food with him, a gesture he appreciated.
It was right before sunrise that Diana returned, two of the invaders in tow. Nazis. She was victorious, though she bore a few bruises and scratches, something Steve had never seen prior to now. Diana spoke of a group of soldiers and their scholars deep in the guts of an ancient ruin. They awoke some long-slumbering defender, a titan of stone and magic. Diana defeated the champion, but many of the invaders were caught in the collapse of the old structures during the battle. Diana dug out these two to face justice with the tribe.
True to their word, the locals released Steve and gave them directions for where to find a seaworthy vessel. A port town a few days hike to the north. They bid them farewell and set off. It was on their march that Steve noticed she was more pensive than usual.
"Did something back there trouble you?" he said.
"Am I that easy for you to read?"
"Traveling for so long with someone has its benefits."
"Those men, the ones I fought.."
"The Nazis. They're the ones responsible for the war. In Europe."
"Most of them were soldiers. But even the learned ones should not have been able to gain access to that temple. It was sealed off by old magics."
"But they did."
"I used the lasso on them. The survivors. They didn't know where the scholars got their knowledge, only of the symbol that they carried."
"Which was?"
"One old. One I almost didn't recognize. A symbol that once belonged to the Amazons."
"I don't pretend to understand all this, but that's bad right?"
"It should be impossible. You're the first outsider on our island in over five centuries."
"All the more reason to get back to America. Figure out what's going on."
Diana nodded, but the cloudy look remained.
"What's wrong?"
"When we get to America, will we stay together? Or will that be it?"
"I'm sure my superiors will want to talk to both of us. Your story will be… outlandish to them, but I'll do my best to make them believe it.
Besides, the world's gotten much stranger the past few years."
"But after that?"
"I.. I don't know Diana. I suppose I haven't thought that far."
"Being an envoy for Themyscira is a task of profound that alone I can continue."
"But?"
"I would be lying if I wasn't even braver on this journey because I've got you by my side."
Steve laughed. Diana looked surprised.
"I'm being honest. I can use the lasso if you…"
"No, no, I believe you. Just the thought of me being what keeps you brave is amusing. You're the one who keeps leaping into danger to save strangers."
"It's how I was raised. That's just reaction. It's when I have time to think too much about what's to come that the nerves return. You help keep me grounded."
They crested a slope, the path curving on a ridge overlooking the sprawling jungle canopy below. The chatter of birds and insects provided a background hum to their conversation. Sweat clung to Steve like a second skin, but Diana was unburdened by the humidity, her dark, tan skin almost glowing in the afternoon sun.
"Nothing's for certain, but I promise you, Diana, I'll be there to help you as long as I can," said Steve.
"That's all I can ask."
Diana took his hand as they embarked on the next leg of their odyssey to America.