Curiosity Kills
June 17, 1941
Diana stood in the shadow of a vessel of death. The hulk of the battleship towered over the surrounding naval yard, with workmen moving through the network of scaffolding that crisscrossed its exterior. There was no respite from the clamor of the work, replete with the clang of metal and the shouts of the men. The air was heavy with the odor of oil and smoke.
"Impressive?" said Captain Lincoln, their guide through the Philadelphia naval yard.
Diana simply nodded as the man continued their tour. Steve Trevor did a better job at responding, handling the bulk of the conversation. The captain spoke of military readiness. Of defensive necessities. Diana knew that he really meant that the country was headed for war. Just this month, Steve informed her that the president had ordered all German and Italian assets frozen, their diplomatic staff commanded to leave the country. This was on top of the massive amount of war material being distributed to the Allies via his Lend-Lease program. The only question was when preparation would give way to action.
She did not begrudge the need to stop the Nazis. Theirs was an evil that must be stamped out. Her reservations lay with the understanding of the amount of suffering that war produced. Many would die or be ruined before the violence was over. It was not an outcome to celebrate.
Their tour concluded at a set of offices away from the bustle. Diana senses the shift before the captain spoke.
"Would you mind if I talked to Captain Trevor one on one?" said Captain Lincoln.
Both men looked at her, Steve apologetically.
"Not at all," said Diana.
Steve leaned in. "Sorry about this. Military procedures. I'll make it up to you later. At the Earle."
Diana bade him farewell and left the naval yard, under the distant, but noticeable escort of a pair of guards.
There remained consequences of her actions in Greece. Diana and Shiera's return to Britain and then America was met with concern and distrust. The functionaries that she met with were concerned that her association with America was sufficient to threaten retribution. There were those that felt Diana was aligned with the nation in all the ways that mattered. She suspected that it was further proof to her associates that she could not be controlled in a way that satisfied them. The JSA took the trip better. Carter had defended them from criticism, though Diana knew that his feelings of betrayal lay with Shiera's decision to not involve him more than their intervention.
Diana didn't mind that she was being cut out from Steve's activities today. The trip to Philadelphia had caught her attention for more than the prospect of gawking at war machines. There was someone here who could give her answers about the prize that her foe sought.
It's name meant the city of brotherly love in Greek, but Diana saw the same schisms as in other American communities. Rich and poor. Black and white. Man and woman. There was a struggle in this nation, between the vision of an egalitarian future and a desperate maintaining of the status quo. This, more than anything else, characterized Diana's travels beyond Themyscira.
Many of the neighborhoods were tightly packed row houses, walls literally against one another. Children played on the stoops and sidewalks as people waited at bus stops. No one gave Diana a second look as she made her way through the streets. She had learned to dress the part, the bag she held tucked tight under her arm.
It was Batman who helped her find the person she sought. Through their continued cooperation, Diana found that the man's most formidable quality was his mind, rather than his martial prowess or his many technological marvels. She could tell he was skeptical of her reasons, but he assisted her all the same. Diana found the address she was looking for and knocked on its door. A pale, mousy woman with wire frame glasses and messy hair opened it.
"May I help you, ma'am?"
"Dr. Rebecca Minerva?"
"That's me."
"My name is Diana. I was wondering if you would be willing to help me with a few questions related to your area of research?"
"I suppose I can...come inside."
She brought Diana to her dining room.
"Would you like tea?" said Dr. Minerva.
"Yes, please."
As the woman prepared the kettle, Diana observed the interior. Dr. Minerva's house was spare, save for a few photographs on cabinets and walls and a couple of vases and pottery of diverse origin. Diana could detect ancient Greek, Assyrian, sub-Saharan Africa and more.
"A few finds I couldn't part with. The rest went to the museums," said Dr. Minerva.
"You've covered a lot of history."
"My interests are wide-ranging."
Dr. Minerva carried over the kettle and a set of cups that she put on the table. She poured Diana's and then her own.
"Americans don't drink this nearly as much as back home."
"In England?"
"Yes. It's one way to assuage my homesickness."
Diana caught her staring at one of the photographs. It was a picture in a garden, of a young girl, no older than ten. She held a cat in her arms.
"Your daughter?"
"Barbra."
Diana thought of her own homeland."Why come here if it pains you this much?"
Dr. Minerva took a sip of her tea, the steam fogging her glasses.
"I've a job to do, one the Americans are insistent about. You'll excuse me if I'm sparse with the details, but to be frank I don't know you."
"That's alright. I just want your appraisal of something."
Diana opened the bag and set out a shard of the labyrinth below Thespyma, adorned with carved symbols, and a drawing of the map from Libya, the best one Diana could reproduce from memory. Dr. Minerva took in the materials. She ran her finger over the map, her mouth moving silently.
"How did you get this?" said Dr. Minerva.
"First hand experience. Can you tell me more about it? Specifically these areas?" Diana tapped the locations on the Arabian peninsula and the one to the far east.
Dr. Minerva stood up and went somewhere in the back of the house. When she returned it was with a stack of notebooks and texts that she plopped on the table with a thud. She flipped through the pages of a weathered journal till it settled on a diagram that was eerily similar to Diana's drawing.
"The God's Teardrop."
"Excuse me?"
"The God's Teardrop. It's one of the names that scholars have called it. There's too many to get into or try to categorize…" said Dr. Minerva.
She opened another notebook with diagrams and writings that Diana recognized as being similar to the complex below Thespyma. Marked with the bull's head.
"It's not a popularly held theory. Few respected academics would publicly talk about it."
"But?" said Diana.
"But, it's been a recurring obsession for many archeologists. Many in the profession have brushed up against some aspect of the God's Teardrop at one point or another. Most take a glance and move on. Others keep digging."
"I take it you're a part of the second group."
"The past few years have produced enough strangeness that many of the more...esoteric ideas are being reappraised. You're responsible for no small part of that...Wonder Woman."
"How'd you know?"
Dr. Minerva shrugged. "I've seen your picture in the papers enough times."
So much for going unnoticed.
"The Teardrop is the result of a number of seemingly unrelated archeological finds possessing similar motifs. Symbols, myths, structure. The broader community sees this as coincidence. Those of us that look past the surface layer hold that it is indicative of a concerted effort across societies to create a receptacle of divine power. A power that was not meant for mortal hands."
"Do you know what this power entails?"
"That's a point of contention. Some claim its godhood. Others think it triggers the apocalypse. The key is that it was so potent that it had to be split. There have been maps that claimed to determine the location of the shards before."
"And?"
"None have ever been found."
"Until now."
Dr. Minerva's face turned pale.
"If you're correct doctor, then at least two of these sites have been pillaged for what they hold. I've seen it personally."
"Years of research..decades of work vindicated…"
Diana tapped the map once again.
"The people that want this God's Teardrop are not the kind that can be trusted with it. What do your studies say about these places?"
Dr. Minerva examined the sites.
"The most common thread with the Arabian locale is the hall of lightning. A place sealed with the sky's might, buried in an unending storm. Several iterations of sky gods are attributed to this place. Best guesses would say Palestine, Jordan, perhaps Khandaq."
"And these one?" said Diana, pointing at the sites to the east.
"The Himalayas. A place that cannot be found by one that seeks it. I don't know about the other one."
"There was another. The missing spot in the map."
"I don't know. We never have a full view of the past. Much of our job is sorting it out. A task made more difficult by the state of the world, in more ways than one."
Diana placed her materials back in her bag.
"You've given me a place to start"
Dr. Minerva escorted her to the door. Diana could tell that her mind was wandering, lost in the new possibilities unleashed by their conversation.
"I wish you luck in your search. And…if you do find anything, please let me know."
Diana hesitated, then said, "I will do what I can Dr. Minerva. I hope you are reunited with your home soon."
The audience sat enraptured by the jazz performance that played out on the stage before them. A man ran his way smoothly through a saxophone solo. Steve bounced his knee along with the music. They were at the Earle Theater. She appreciated how the music seemed to be on a journey, one shaped by the contours of the night as much as any prearranged structure.
Her sisters on Themyscira would love it. Music was a major part of their lives. Most of her sisters had a degree of proficiency with either instruments, singing or dancing. It was an important tenet to be able to express oneself through artistic means. To transcend language and tap into feeling. It was heartening for Diana to see that that urge was universal.
After the show, they lingered as the audience mingled and members of the band came out to smoke and talk with the crowd.
"I'm sorry about earlier," said Steve.
"What do you mean?"
"The secrecy. It doesn't feel right cutting you out like that," said Steve.
Diana patted his shoulder. "I'm not an American. It's understandable your superiors don't want me privy to your secrets."
"Still."
This was another aspect of the wider world Diana did not enjoy. The Amazons preferred to speak their minds plainly. Lies were frowned upon. The very power of her lasso was derived from the truth. America and its people employed misdirection and skullduggery at every turn. As did all the other nations. To exist was to lie in one way or another. Even her teammates.
They made for the exit, skirting around a pocket crowded with people. All fawning over a woman in a fur overcoat with blond curls.
"Is that Wonder Woman, I see?" said the woman in the coat.
The crowd adjusted to accommodate Diana and Steve. The woman in the coat stepped forth.
"I scarcely recognized you outside of that colorful ensemble you prance about in," said the woman. There was a nastiness in her voice that she was unconcerned about concealing.
"Excuse me, have we met?" said Diana.
"I see the recognition is not mutual. Priscilla Rich, the one and only."
Steve whispered to Diana. "Not too familiar, but I know she's from money. Big money."
"Who's this handsome fellow?" Priscilla got in Steve's space, appearing to take a deep breath in.
"Steve Trevor, ma'am."
"Call me Priscilla, soldier."
Priscilla cocked her head back to Diana.
"Funny seeing you here. We seem to be unable to get away from one another."
"I don't think we've met before tonight."
The woman laughed without any heart behind it.
"We have in a manner of speaking. You're everywhere these days."
Diana nudged Steve. "It was a pleasure," said Diana. "We've got a long day ahead tomorrow."
"I'll be seeing you Wonder Woman," said Priscilla. Even as the crowd closed around her, Diana saw the narrowing of Priscilla's eyes, the way any hint of warmth left her face.
Diana awoke in the middle of the night, her hotel room off-kilter. She wasn't staying with Steve on this trip, another byproduct of his current responsibilities. They had some sort of public ceremony in the morning, another place to show her off. Diana was quickly tiring of their uses for her.
A shadow slithered across the room. Diana leapt from her bed and seized it. She held a man up by his trench coat, his fedora falling to the ground.
"Speak your purpose."
"I come as a friend," said the man, remarkably even-keeled for his predicament.
"A strange approach."
"A necessary one."
Diana set him down, but she remained tense. The man picked up his hat and returned it to his head. He held a circular sigil in his left hand, a pattern of black and white.
"Why are you here?" said Diana. "Who are you?"
"My name is Richard Occult. To those in your line of work, I'm Doctor Occult."
He peered through her curtains.
"Afraid we're being watched?"
"Always a possibility unfortunately. I've done my best to stymie that." He raised the sigil.
"You met with an archeologist. Dr. Minerva," said Doctor Occult.
"A spy as well?"
"A man in the know. We seek similar outcomes."
"And that would be?"
"What did she call it? The God's Teardrop. There are other names. None of them matter in the face of what it represents."
"Which is?"
"Doom."
The man passed through a beam of darkness. What emerged from the other side was a woman in a pastel dress.
"Rose Psychic," said the woman. "The other half of my partner. Easier for me to show you"
Rose pointed the sigil at the wall. It spat out a mote of red light that manifested as a map. Like Diana's.
"The sorcerer that hunts for the shards is known as Wotan. An immortal. Were he to retrieve all of them, life as we know it would be forfeit."
"What is the God's Teardrop?"
"A vessel. For a being most terrible. Older than our world and far crueler than human imagination."
The point in the Middle East lit up.
"This is where they shall go next. The hall of lightning."
"Do you know where it is?"
"No. But they cannot unlock these places without giving them away. The rituals required to unlock such points of power are not easily concealed. Even for one as powerful as Wotan. You must wait till they have made their move and intercede."
Diana gave Rose a sidelong glance.
"You've come to me with this message. Why not my peers? Why not Doctor Fate? Or the Spectre?"
"To be known is to be understood. Doctor Fate's source of power is an age old foe of Wotan. For those of my nature to be in his presence is to stand alongside the sun. It would be akin to common humanity beside Superman. Or you. And the Spectre...the Spectre is better kept from this crisis. You are an unknown factor, Wonder Woman."
Rose was Doctor Occult once more, between blinks of the eye.
"Rally your peers, beware Wotan and his kind and stop them. There will not be a world to save should they have their way."
There was no chance to respond. Another flash of the sigil swallowed Doctor Occult. Diana was left with a fading imprint of the map, the marking in Arabia bolder than the rest.
The Cheetah struck in the middle of the ceremony, while the officials were making their speeches. Diana was distracted, thinking about last night's visitor, while Steve was uncharacteristically fidgety. He had been late to their meeting spot in the morning, apologetic but vague. Diana overlooked it, eager to get the day's pageantry over with. The sooner she could get back to the work that mattered.
They were in Fairmont Park, by the art museum when a jitter ran through a pocket of the crowd and a lithe figure cut through the air towards the stage. Diana barely had time to raise her arms to block outstretched claws. She skidded back along the stage.
Her foe was a woman in a cheetah skin costume, eyes marked by black and red ash. The Cheetah hissed.
"Always a crowd around you. Fitting you should die with an audience."
Wonder Woman circled her foe, putting herself between the crowd and the Cheetah. She could see Steve near the edge of the stage.
"Cease this madness. There's no need to endanger others," said Wonder Woman.
"Putting on a show even now. What a waste."
The Cheetah lunged at her, raking her claws through the air so fast Diana could hear them whistle. The crowd erupted into screams, as many of its members stampeded away from the fight.
Wonder Woman caught the Cheetah by the wrist and slammed her into the stage, buckling through its construction. Her grip was loosed with a slash that tore skin. The woman darted through the struts that held up the stage, moving at a blistering pace. She lashed out at Wonder Woman repeatedly.
Wonder Woman smashed through the supports to gain some distance. A shape swam through her peripherals. Claws slid along her ribs, catching only the surface. A slit of blood dotted the grass.
"She bleeds after all," said the Cheetah.
"You don't have to do this."
The Cheetah cackled malevolently. "You start to lose once and all that regal might deserts you."
Wonder Woman fended off another attack.
"Why do any of this?" said Diana, blocking a kick.
"To show them how hollow you are. How worthless."
The fight roved through the park, uprooting trees and knocking down light posts. Wonder Woman was stronger than her opponent, but it was nigh impossible to pin her down. There was some quality to the Cheetah's claws that made the wounds they inflicted linger on Diana's skin.
She lost sight of her opponent in a thicket. At least they were far enough from the main trails to avoid drawing in any bystanders.
"If you give up now, I'll end it in one clean stroke," said the Cheetah. "You could spare yourself this butchery."
A branch cracked and Diana pivoted. It was Steve, pistol drawn, his face frantic with worry.
"Steve?"
There was a snarl from the trees as the Cheetah exploded from the branches. Wonder Woman launched to cut her off, but she arrived too late. The woman's claws were streaked red with Steve's blood as he collapsed, a growing stain marring his shirt.
Diana cried out in horror.
"Oh dear...Did I hurt your pet?"
Wonder Woman grasped her lasso.
"I've given you all the warnings you deserve. This is your last chance to surrender peacefully."
Cheetah responded with another lunge. Wonder Woman spun the lasso, using it to keep the woman back. She stood over Steve's body, unwilling to leave him open for another attack. The intensity of the assault continued to ratchet upwards. The Cheetah struck with a feral ferocity that was unhinged. Spittle flew from her dagger-like teeth as she swiped at Diana.
There was a clap of thunder and the air around the Cheetah rippled past her as though she was caught in an unseen wave. The woman hissed and was tossed away from Wonder Woman by the force.
Another woman in a costume with a blue top and yellow pants jogged from the path. A cracked red bell was displayed prominently on her chest.
"That won't stop her for long," said the woman. She pointed at Steve's body. "I can get him to help, if you'll keep that maniac off of me."
"With pleasure, friend," said Wonder Woman.
Wonder Woman ran to face Cheetah, hurling bits of tree and rock with her lasso as she approached. Cheetah dodged around the volleys, while slicing through the parts she couldn't dodge. Still, a fraction of it peppered her, earning grunts of pain.
"You can't pin me down. I'll finish what I started with your friend."
Cheetah sprinted past Diana. She tossed out her lasso, praying to Artemis for her aim. It slipped around her foe's ankle. Wonder Woman launched into the air, flying as high as she could, lasso in hand. Cheetah yelped, taken along for the ride unwillingly.
"Release me," the woman roared.
Diana whirled the lasso in a series of loops that culminated in a full bodied slam that split the earth where Cheetah crashed. She gave her no time to recover, landing boot first on the beast's torso.
"Submit," said Diana.
"Never," Cheetah hissed.
Wonder Woman obliged her with a solid punch to the nose that knocked Cheetah out.
Up close, without the frenzy of combat to distract, Diana was disconcerted to see that beneath the ashen makeup was Priscilla Rich. She wrapped her foe in the lasso and carried her off, quick to search for Steve. Her new ally had already brought him to medical attention, where he was being carted away to a hospital. Diana gave Cheetah over to the assembled authorities and prepared to follow the ambulance.
"Thank you for the help," said Diana to the masked woman. "I fear tragedy would have reigned without your intervention."
"A privilege to assist you."
"Your name?"
"Liberty Belle."
"An honor to fight alongside you sister," said Diana, distracted by the departing car. "We will meet again, I'm sure of it."
It was hours later in the hospital. Diana was beside Steve's bedside. The doctor told her that he would live, though his wounds were no trifling matter. He rustled in his sleep, shifting with the pain. She held his hand, clammy with sweat.
"I'm here. I will be here as long as you need me," said Diana.
"Mhm," he mumbled through closed lips.
Her own cuts had sealed, though she did not like the look of the slowly fading marks from where the Cheetah's claws had rent her flesh.
"I can't sir," said Steve.
"What?"
He rolled and moaned.
"I can't."
A fever dream. Diana took a cloth to his forehead.
"…not our enemy sir."
She could feel his breath on her cheek.
"...the Amazons...our enemy."
Diana shivered.
"What?" she said, her voice so faint as to not be heard at all.
Steve did not open his eyes, shuddering through whatever nightmare gripped him. Diana continued to clasp his hand as her mind drifted far from the hospital room.
"I think that was a successful first encounter," said Faraday.
Liberty Belle nodded, leaning back in her seat, a bottle of coke in her hand. They met in a dingy hotel to avoid drawing scrutiny. Operational security Faraday liked to say.
"You think she was serious about seeing me again?" said Liberty Belle. Today was hellish. That monster in the park was nothing like the muggers and hoods she had been fighting up to now.
"If you stay in the news after this, it's only a matter of time," said Faraday.
"How can you be sure?"
"Leave that to us my dear."
Vague. More vague than she liked, but it was the job she signed up for. After all, Uncle Sam needed a hero they could trust. And Libby Lawrence had her own needs. Needs that could only be fulfilled with their help.
All it would take was infiltrating the Justice Society.