Outclassed
April 5, 1942
The Spectre deflected a current of eldritch energy that split a nearby asteroid. They returned the favor by willing the field of rocks to fly at Zor, who countered them handily, converting them into harmless puffs of smoke. Jill Corrigan was only tangentially aware of the rules of this mad duel, the magics being leveled at one another betrayed no concern for earthly comprehension.
She was, however, keenly aware of the mounting fury that her passenger directed towards Zor. He was an enigma to Jill, a foe that had menaced the Spectre twice before. One of the few that seemed capable of besting her other half. The sorcerer retained an amused grin on his face in spite of the Spectre's aggression.
Zor formed a sphere of molten rock, spinning it as a child might with a basketball. "I'm rather disappointed with you, you know."
He sent the molten sphere towards the Spectre. Jill felt her form warp, as her passenger absorbed it into their cloak, sending it flying back. Before it could get far, the sphere erupted, spilling its flaming contents on the Spectre. She could feel a distant sensation of pain.
"I thought after our previous bouts that you were regaining your sense of self. Yet, I find you as muddled and pitiful as ever."
An arc of black lightning raced from Zor's fingertips, cleaving through the Spectre's cloak. To Jill's surprise, they were on the retreat, skirting amongst the asteroids, using them for cover, as the lightning chased.
"It saddens me greatly to see you so reduced. Like an eagle with clipped wings."
The lightning coursed up the Spectre's backside. Jill heard them cry out in pain.
"There's really nothing else to be done at this point. If you won't reclaim your former glory, then there's no use waiting."
Fear wasn't uncommon for Jill. It was a constant flavor in her current existence. But, the specific strain that she felt right at this moment was one that hadn't been a part of the menu for a long time. Not since that grey day in Los Angeles all those years ago. It was the fear that told you in no uncertain terms that death had arrived.
Dinah had been to the Grand Canyon twice before, both times as a child. Her parents made a point of visiting it on their way out to California and then the slow crawl back to the East. She remembered being truly, viscerally stunned by the scale of it, by the prospect of a world so vast and daunting that it was a wonder to exist at all. There was less of that magic in her current trip, likely a consequence of the fact that she was squatting on a thin outcropping of the canyon wall, having been forced to make a hasty leap away from her foes in the Injustice Society.
Her knees throbbed, bleeding from jagged scrapes, with the left one giving her the telltale signs of swelling. Her fishnets were ripped and peeling. The leather jacket was gone, caught on some outgrowth of scrub brush that broke her fall along the way. The platform Black Canary stood on was slight enough that it made any adjustment risky. It was difficult to see possible handholds in the cliff face. She had been down here for nearly an hour by her reckoning. The sounds of conflict had faded, the only remnant of her foes, the distant buzzing of Killer Moth, who she imagined was hunting for Batman and potentially her.
After a few false starts, she began the slow, painful process of dragging herself back up towards the mesa. She cursed every time her fingers or feet slipped or when the rocks threatened to give way when met with her body weight. She thanked all the hours spent clambering around Gotham's buildings. By the time she flopped onto mesa it was late afternoon, the sky turning a rich shade of orange.
The stone spire stood above her, mocking in its dominance over the horizon. Her comrades would be in it somewhere. Dinah was working for the assumption that they still lived, the alternative too bleak to contemplate. She wanted to call for backup, but her signal ring was gone, lost in the fall. Internally, Dinah swore and raged about the unfairness of it all. Here she was in the middle of nowhere, on a team with superhumans and princesses from mythological lands and geniuses and what were likely honest to God sorcerers and it was on her to rescue them. In spite of her frustrations, Black Canary didn't waver from her approach of the spire. She knew with absolute certainty that each of her teammates would do the same for her. So, she ignored the worries about the Injustice Society's capabilities, about her own worth and set out to figure out how in the world she would ascend the spire.
The climb up the cliff side had worn her down and it appeared trivial compared to the rocky structure. Whatever force held it together was not natural physics, the orange-brown rock that made up the spire arranged in such a manner that gravity would tear it down. Much of it was smooth, like polished stone, without the typical crags and protrusions that made up the rest of the mesa and the canyon walls. Not to mention the fact that it lay a good twenty meters past the edge of the mesa, only connecting with anything at the base of the canyon. Short of flight, Black Canary couldn't envision a way to scale it. Batman would have tools for climbing, but she had no idea what had become of him.
Someone moved above her. Black Canary backed off from the spire, fists raised.
"Whoa, whoa. It's me," said Starman.
Dinah eased. He landed beside her, looking worse for wear. His costume was damaged along his chest and right arm. Part of his head covering was torn, exposing a shock of messy brown hair.
"I thought I was the only one left," he said.
They compared notes. Starman had fled into a cloud bank after being overwhelmed by the Injustice Society. From his cover, he had observed them take away all of the heroes subdued on the mesa. He hadn't seen what happened to Doctor Fate, the Spectre or Batman, only that Killer Moth returned to the spire empty handed. He had been about to do the exact same thing as Black Canary when he spied her.
"There's still the possibility of going for backup," said Dinah. She didn't want to, but she thought it would be irresponsible to not at least suggest it.
Starman shook his head. "There's no guarantee our friends will be kept alive that long. Plus, it'll give them more time prepare. All we can hope for is the others respond to the signal ring eventually."
The only teammate that could arrive in any meaningful time frame was the Flash. Still, she liked the fire behind Starman's voice.
"We'll be outnumbered. Outgunned," said Dinah,
"Outclassed?" said Starman.
"Never."
"I don't understand why we can't kill them now," said Cheetah.
Clifford DeVoe suppressed a sigh, instead choosing to bask in the glory of the view from the top of their current headquarters. He was ordinarily afraid of heights, but the tower reached such majestic climes that it outweighed his reservations.
"They are of more use alive. Particularly, as the entire team is not within our grasp."
Cheetah would not drop the issue. "Then keep the rest of them. All I want is Wonder Woman."
"This is not my choice alone. Brainwave wants them as assets. Their allies will hesitate if they are to fight their former comrades. Wonder Woman is simply too valuable an asset to waste."
The feline woman scowled and paced. The Thinker found this part of their collaboration to be the most tedious. All members of the Injustice had some score to settle against the JSA.
"Come now Cheetah. Think of how much more delightful revenge will be if you've forced Wonder Woman to be complicit in the end of her little club," said Gentleman Ghost. DeVoe found their spectral companion to be one of the only reasonable members. He remained curious about Ghost's abilities, though he hadn't had the chance to inquire about the way he produced his invisibility and intangibility.
Cheetah appeared set on continuing her argument for a moment, before turning and marching away. "If I get the sense that this plan of yours is failing I won't waste my chance."
"Thank you for the support. Between that woman and Ragdoll, I find reason to be in short supply," said the Thinker. He would have added Brainwave and Karkull as well if he didn't think it too risky.
"Think nothing of it my good man. Though, I must confess, I sympathize rather heartily with our impassioned ally. The only reason I am able to maintain such composure is that I lack the one half of my quarry."
"Hawkman of course. What is your quarrel with that duo?"
Gentleman Ghost placed one of his white gloves where his chin should be, as if stroking it.
"You'll forgive me if I keep the specifics of my grievance private. Suffice it to say that our winged rivals have pressing business with me."
The Thinker didn't press the matter. After all, it didn't make much difference as to why any of them were doing it. So long as they got the job done. At least, that's how DeVoe tried to frame it. In practice, not having any piece of the puzzle was an annoyance at best and downright infuriating at worst. The last incarnation of this society taught him it paid to have a clear idea of your-so called compatriots motives. He still owed Sportsmaster and Tigress for their abandonment.
He took a moment to catalogue his fellow villains. Cheetah was straightforward. The socialite had a personal vendetta against Wonder Woman over a perceived slight. Killer Moth was a moron, but he was easy to steer so long as he thought he was getting one over on Batman. Ragdoll was mentally unstable in a way that disturbed DeVoe. His apparent lack of physicality was made up for by his cunning. It was the Thinker's understanding that the limber lunatic had a cult that obeyed his every command. Harlequin was fixated on Green Lantern, no doubt disappointed that he had not made an appearance thus far. The Thinker was curious as to her spectacles and their illusionary properties, though he hadn't been afforded a chance to inspect them, as she was rather protective of them. Karkull and Brainwave competed with their megalomania, though DeVoe had his money on the latter, even if the monuments scheme was contingent on the shadow man's technology. Professor Zodiak wanted more funding and test subjects for his alleged alchemical devices. Toyman wanted funding and power to seek revenge on Superman and Luthor. Zor was an enigma, as was Despero, the purple finned fellow. Brainwave had handled their recruitment. There was an uncanny quality to Despero that continued to rankle DeVoe. Zor at least was featured in a smattering of news articles that mentioned his clash with the spectre. The purple villain was either new on the scene or so subtle as to be invisible to the public. It made the Thinker uneasy to have blank spots in the grand plan.
It was a plan that remained tenuously balanced, in spite of their current lead. It had taken months to craft, with DeVoe handling all the possible configurations that the Injustice Society would take to counter the JSA. Their foes had expanded, with members that he had comparatively little knowledge about. Brainwave might boast about the overall scheme, while the Thinker handled all the logistics. Which tempered his enthusiasm. They had brought down a number of the JSA's heaviest hitters, but several pieces remained on the board. Canary, Starman and Batman were unaccounted for, though Killer Moth claimed he had seen evidence of the Caped Crusader's demise. Doctor Fate and the Spectre were out of play, but DeVoe wouldn't consider them dealt with till he heard it directly from Karkull and Zor.
And then there was the minor issue of the absent Justice Society members, the ones that hadn't responded at all. Brainwave boasted about their odds. The Thinker was less sanguine. It all rode on a number of variables. Whether or not the government would cave to the ransom in the face of their lost heroes. If the brainwashing of the captured heroes would work. Brainwave was confident and Despero appeared powerful, but heroes had an unfortunate habit of being strong willed enough to make it dicey. How quickly the JSA and possibly the All-Star Squadron responded. Variables upon variables upon variables.
DeVoe forced himself to stop. There was no point in spiraling. All that was left was to plan, adapt and execute. He recited that as he stared at the sunset, trying not to think about how easy it would be to vanish before any of the consequences of their actions came crashing down on them all. Brainwave would never forgive such a betrayal. In spite of his arrogance, DeVoe knew too well how dangerous the man could be when angered. He did not wish to spend his remaining years a drooling husk of a man.
Then there was also the matter of Jay Garrick (it irked DeVoe that his foe was comfortable enough to share his identity with the world). From a certain perspective, each member of the Injustice Society was no different from Cheetah. It was a frustrating truth, but the Thinker was nothing if not inwardly analytical.
The chamber they held Wonder Woman in wasn't quite a cell. It was a spacious room with smooth orange stone that made up all the architecture. They had blindfolded her on the way into their stone spire, only removing the covering once they had her secured. Wherever her allies were being held, it wasn't near her. There was a low hum that vibrated through the entire structure.
Diana tested her bindings, but the lasso's magics worked both ways. If she was constrained by it, there was no special way out. The price of power for the blessing of the gods.
After around half an hour, Brainwave and the Thinker entered her room. The former struggled to contain his glee. The other man was more reserved.
"It must smart to have all that power and still end up at our mercy," said Brainwave.
Any response would be truthful while she was under the power of the lasso. She would have restrain her tongue.
Brainwave came closer. She could see beady green eyes behind his glasses. The Thinker stayed by the door.
"Enjoy the slim consolation that you are not alone in your failure. A shared consequence of your efforts to oppose my power."
He widened his stance, as though bracing for a gust of wind. Diana felt a prodding sensation at her temple. It mounted, growing more pronounced second by second. Brainwave's forehead was pinched, his jaw clenched. It was as though someone were trying to chip their way into her head.
"Surrender will be much less unpleasant," said Brainwave.
Diana closed her eyes. She was on Themyscira, in one of her favorite groves, the one she in played with her friends. A humble waterfall fed into a pool of incandescent blue. Animals snarled in the woods. Wolves with open jaws and cruel eyes stalked out of the underbrush. In spite of the familiar setting, Diana understood what this was. No true children of Artemis. No reason to hold back.
Doctor Fate was no stranger to the darkness. Yet, what surrounded him was an unfathomable ocean of it, a solid mass of blackness only broken up by his thin bubble of magic, a defensive spell he managed to blurt the words to before the dark took him. It was so dark that Kent suspected his mind had begun to play tricks on him, summoning currents and formations of the black murk beyond his crumbling safe haven.
All his focus was in maintaining the spell. Even still, he could feel his energies being sapped by mere contact with the dark. Had Karkull grown this powerful since their last bout? Or was this how low Kent had fallen? Such nagging doubt tugged on his mind in the absence of all other stimulus. The mad scientist had not made a personal appearance. Perhaps he was content to allow Doctor Fate to be snuffed out ignobly. Kent suspected Karkull would appear right as his strength failed him.
Every apprehensive probing of his options was met with failure. He ran through the spells, the deals, the methods. All of them came up lacking, in time or capability. If only he had prepared properly for Karkull and his ilk. If only he had spent more time studying, practicing the mystic arts, to better hone his powers. If only, if only. His surroundings encouraged these cyclical thoughts. If only his father never brought them to the desert.
The shield wobbled again, shrinking another degree. Kent could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. The effort? Fear? He held back on imaging Inza. On what the others would tell her. Assuming any of them survived the battle. Another failure.
The voice came without warning. Everywhere and nowhere, a voice to be felt rather than heard.
You cannot die here.
Kent's eyes flicked around. Pure black was all that met him.
The world has need of you yet.
"How?" said Kent, though out loud or internally he could not tell.
Separated we may be, yet I will always be bound to you. Did you think my power was given so easily?
"What would you have me do Nabu? I cannot escape Karkull's trap."
Not as you are now. You know what you must do. Summon the helm.
Nabu must have felt Kent's confusion.
The helm is yours. The distances of mortal men mean little to a Lord of Order. Summon it.
"I cannot."
The world cannot withstand what is to come without my power. Our power. You cannot be lost here. Put aside our grievances and take up the helm.
It was no small part of Kent that was tempted by Nabu's words. He knew them to be true. That was the problem with his teacher. Not the lies with which he confronted you. The truths. All he had to do was will the helm to him and it would be over. Karkull bested, his teammates freed. A proper Doctor Fate to protect Order.
But, what of Inza? What of that small shred of life Kent had dredged from the mire of his duties? Nabu's truths cut both ways. He had told Kent that his will could not be trusted. He would not change his mind now. Not when Kent had delivered such a poor showing.
Do not hesitate. You risk oblivion.
"I will escape alone."
You cannot. You are too weak. Too drained.
"Have faith Nabu. Have faith that you chose properly all those years ago."
Kent was unsure of whether or not his words affected Nabu at all. The voice ceased. A signal of trust or a resignation of his failure, it mattered not.
Kent put his hands against the infinite expanse of darkness pressing down on him and pushed back.
Wonder Woman defeated the last wolf. And the pumas. And the myriad of conjured creatures that assailed her, pouring out of the woods, which had shrunk to an island in the fog. She could feel the warmth of the lasso behind her.
Her eyes snapped open.
"Quit dammit! Just quit," screamed Brainwave. The man was gasping for breath, hunched over, sweat pouring down his enlarged cranium.
"Might be time to call it," said the Thinker. He leaned at the doorway, a cigarette held between his fingers. He struck Diana as bored.
"I am nearly there," said Brainwave.
"No. You are not," said Diana.
"Quiet," said Brainwave. He gave Diana a look most hateful.
"You cannot accomplish your intent here. The lasso defends my mind."
"And the lasso is all that is holding her. Wonderful," said the Thinker.
Brainwave did not appreciate his partner's lack of enthusiasm. "If you have nothing useful to add, cease your prattle." He spun back around to Wonder Woman. "I'll end her then, give her a stroke."
"I thought we agreed she was too valuable. Maybe you should let Despero try. He worked on Hawkwoman and Mr. Terrific."
The suggestion only further enraged the man. "You dare to suggest that hack has a better chance than me? Need I remind you why I am the leader of this outfit?"
If the threat worked on the Thinker, the man didn't show it. He remained collected in the face of his partner's meltdown.
"I didn't mean to upset you. But, let us speak clearly. Wonder Woman cannot be wasted if we are to defeat the rest of the JSA. Why not take this up later? When you can wear her down."
Though his fists remained tightly clenched, Brainwave lost a measure of energy. He adjusted his glasses, taking a deep, gulping breath of air, like a man breaching the surface.
"Later then. I will continue later. Let us move on to other matters."
He went to leave the room. An impulse overtook Diana, a function of the connection made between their minds. The things she sensed during her defense.
"The other children should not have treated you so poorly Henry. Or the adults," said Diana.
Brainwave stopped walking, his back to her. The Thinker perked up.
"Yours was a childhood devoid of the love we all deserve. For that I am sorry. But it is not too late to recognize that you still can love and be loved Henry King."
The look Brainwave gave her made Diana think he was about to follow through on his threat. Instead, he swiveled around silently and stormed out the doorway. The Thinker gave her one last quizzical glance, before following suit.
Diana let a single tear roll down her cheek before beginning to work at her bindings.
As Starman flew upwards, keeping close to the spire, Black Canary supported in one arm, he kept bracing to be spotted. The duo cleared the base layer of clouds, revealing the rest of the stone tower. Further confirming its artificial nature, the structure branched off into a cluster of interconnected bulbs, almost like a model of a molecule.
"There's no way it could remain standing on its own. Gravity would cause it to crumble," said Ted.
Black Canary squinted. "Gotta be Zodiak."
The bulbs converged on a trio of larger platforms, extending below and above them. Most of them lacked roofs, settling instead for smooth stone walls. Black Canary noticed movement from one of the platforms, prompting Starman to land on an overlooking protrusion. With any luck the oncoming twilight would obscure them.
Harlequin, Ragdoll and Toyman were below. Hawkwoman and Mr. Terrific stood behind the group. There was a rigid quality to their posture.
"Can't say I'm a fan of this part of the plan. All this waiting around," said Harlequin.
Toyman scoffed. "Today was hardly without action. We've earned a reprieve."
Ragdoll circled Harlequin, a move that clearly unnerved the woman. "Our friend is just upset that Green Lantern didn't make an appearance. I can sympathize. I won't be satisfied till the Flash is one of our dolls."
Harlequin tilted her neck, leering at Hawkwoman and Mr. Terrific. "I can't be the only one that finds them creepy. Those cloudy eyes…"
"Like toys," said Toyman. "I can't wait for Superman to join them."
"If he joins them," said Harlequin.
"He will. Brainwave promised."
"I hear they've run into a hitch with that. They're afraid he'll overpower them if Zodiak reverses the petrification. They're having issues with Wonder Woman too."
Toyman shook his head. "We'll find a way. I'll find a way if it comes to that. Besides, we'll have a prime collection once they round up the rest of the team."
"Karkull's said his machine will spit out Doctor Fate any minute now," said Ragdoll.
"Alive or dead?" said Harlequin.
"Does it matter?"
The woman put some distance between her companions, turning to face both of them. "Doesn't any of this sit poorly with you? Such strict orders for us, but plenty of leeway for the likes of Karkull and the others. To say nothing of how much faith we're putting in Brainwave and Despero to maintain their control over them," she said, gesturing to the brainwashed heroes.
"As long as I get even with Luthor, it doesn't matter," said Toyman.
Ragdoll shrugged, his limbs bowing to an extent that made Ted squirm. "You've got to learn to enjoy the journey Harlequin. So long as it's interesting…"
Harlequin gave up her protests. "Forget it. Let's get them to their posts."
The group left, the heroes following in stilted steps. Starman turned to Black Canary.
"Sounds like there's some professional differences forming here," said Canary.
"Who'd have thought villains would have a tough time getting along?"
"Even so, we're not bringing down all of them on our own. Best bet is letting the others loose."
Starman agreed. "Hawkwoman and Mr. Terrific are under mind control…"
"Which means Brainwave or that Despero character. I saw him take down Terrific."
"Could be too risky to bank all on dropping them. Superman's petrified?"
"Zodiak again. And Wonder Woman's a prisoner somewhere."
"But we don't know where. Or how we'd reverse Superman's condition. That leaves Doctor Fate."
"Ragdoll mentioned Karkull's machine. Could be what's behind those shadows attacking us earlier. Maybe even the monuments. The only question is how to find it."
"That's one problem I've already solved," said Starman. He tapped the rod. "There's an energy signature here that matches the one that brought us here in the first place. We're close enough now I can zero in on it." He pointed the rod at the highest of the three rocky platforms. "Right there."
Black Canary sat with that information. Starman waited while the wind tossed her blond hair as a new layer of clouds settled right below them. Only the barest hint of sunlight remained.
"Fate's the play then. We just have to reach him."
"I can fly you in close. If there are complications, I can buy you time," said Starman. He hoped his voice carried confidence rather than the undertone of doubt that harried him.
"I'm Dinah by the way," said Black Canary.
Ted gave her a confused look. "What's that for?"
"If this is it, I figured it might be nice to know my name. Most of the others know that, but we stopped sharing once your lot joined on. Black Canary's fun and all, but you've earned a more personal touch."
"Ted. Ted Knight."
"Well Mr. Knight, let's save the Justice Society."
Black Canary crouched in the passage, pressed into the shadows. Somewhere nearby, she heard the familiar noise of the cosmic rod being fired, as Starman drew a crowd from the spire. Dinah lingered, alert for any movement from the platform. Satisfied it was empty, she entered the chamber fully.
Karkull's contraption was an engine of black steel, all tubes and cylinders, churning along with whatever malevolent energies fueled it. It leaked an odor that reeked of oil, burning wood and sweat. Dinah couldn't make sense of the machine as she inspected it. It defied efforts to understand its function, a creation made only for one individual to operate. Breaking it was always an option, though Dinah worried that such a move could harm Kent if he was inside it.
There would be more time to ponder a solution, as Dinah instinctively dipped when she caught rapid movement to her left. Harlequin's club smacked into the machine, letting out a hollow ring. Black Canary scrambled away from another series of heavy swings that caught nothing but air.
"Figured there would be more than one of you. Thought it would be Batman though, with all the skulking about," said Harlequin.
Someone grabbed Canary from behind. Before their grip could properly lock, she rolled forwards, transferring her entire weight into throwing her attacker. Ragdoll returned the favor, twisting his shoulders till he had tossed Dinah off balance. She came to a halt in front of Harlequin, who slapped her midsection with the club.
Black Canary blocked the next blow, giving back a palm strike to the woman's chin. She couldn't keep it up, as Ragdoll danced in close, slashing to and fro with a knife.
"You're my second favorite," said Harlequin. "A distant second, but still."
"I'm honored," said Dinah. She braced for the next assault, as the pair circled her from both sides, Karkull's machine blocking any retreat.
"You could always join the winning team. Though Green Lantern might take that too personally. Focus all his attention on you. Can't be having that."
"Too bad. And here I was about to take you up on the offer," said Dinah.
Starman had never properly appreciated just how hard Hawkwoman could hit until he was on the business end of her mace. If not for the resistance of the cosmic rod, he'd be a red mist falling on the mesa by now. He no longer attempted to reason with her. That bit of effort was spent evading her and the rest of his pursuers.
There was the exaggerated rattle of gunfire, as Toyman strafed by him in a wind-up plane. The bullets were all too real unfortunately, as was Gentleman Ghost's capacity for flight. It helped explain how he fought Hawkman and Hawkwoman.
Ted ducked into the cloud cover to buy some time. He couldn't fly too far away from the spire. That risked leaving Black Canary exposed. He heard the buzz of Toyman's plane further grow more distant.
There was no time for rest, as Hawkwoman burst through the cloud, mace at the ready. She was missing a step, whatever puppet master held her strings not quite up to snuff when it came to managing her powers. Ted's reluctance to hurt his teammate evened it out to where he was only just staying ahead of his pursuers.
It became readily apparent that Black Canary was a better fighter than Harlequin and Ragdoll. Unfortunately that fact didn't matter much in her wounded state, with the two villains wearing her down. For each blow she got it, they got two. The math wasn't in her favor and they knew it. It didn't help that Harlequin kept making illusionary copies to keep her off balance.
"I don't think Brainwave will mind if Black Canary doesn't make it," said Ragdoll, rolling his knife through his knuckles.
"He did say all of them were to be turned over to him," said Harlequin.
"We already have one without powers. Two would be one too many," said Ragdoll.
Dinah ducked a swipe by the flexible lunatic, driving her elbow into his neck. It might have dropped an ordinary person, but he was able to transfer the energy of the hit. All she earned for her trouble was a smack from Harlequin to the knee. The swollen one.
"We can all see where this is headed," said Harlequin. "Call it quits now or Ragdoll gets his way."
Dinah bounced on her heels, feeling her knee slide around more than she liked. "I was about to offer you a similar deal."
A buzzing noise rose from the edge of the platform. Killer Moth zipped into the chamber, sticky gun in hand.
"Poor timing all around," said Harlequin. "Best take my offer."
"Too late," said Ragdoll, advancing with that same mad smile.
Killer Moth raised the sticky gun and fired. The first glob slapped Ragdoll in the foot, anchoring him in place. The next two glued his hands together, then the other foot.
"What are you doing Moth?" shouted Harlequin.
Dinah needed no invitation to kick the female villain while she was distracted. Harlequin fell with hardly a cry. Ragdoll avoided a couple of the shots, but it became impossible as he was pinned to the stone floor, till he was completely immobilized. Killer Moth walked up to the villain, putting a few final touches on his defeated foe. He threw the gun away as soon as the task was complete.
"What a turn," said Black Canary.
Killer Moth joined her by the machine.
"I was beginning to get worried that you'd met your maker in the canyon," said Dinah.
"What gave it away?" came a familiar growl from beneath Killer Moth's helm.
"Way too accurate. The real Killer Moth would have missed nine out of ten of those shots," said Dinah.
"Lucky for you I broke character," said Batman. Black Canary started to ask if that was a joke, but he had already moved on, giving all his attention to the machine, as he studied it from every angle. At some point in his walk around the machine, he had ditched the helmet and put on his cowl, creating a mishmash of the two costumes. It would be funny except for the lives of their comrades being at stake.
"Fate's in there somewhere. You think you can get him out?"
"Maybe."
He left the machine, moving to Harlequin's unconscious body. He grabbed her blue spectacles.
"Best to hedge our bets. See if we can get anyone else free while we're at it," said Batman.
"What did you have in mind?" said Canary.
"Up for some acting of your own?" said Batman.
The Thinker ran his tongue under his front teeth, flicking it from the left to the right, over and over. It was a nervous tic, a holdover from childhood. In his adult life, he understood it to be the onset of a plan falling apart. From his post in the spire, he couldn't watch the ongoing hunt for Starman. There was no question that the hero's lone assault was a diversionary tactic, the only question was where the next wrinkle emerged. He had convinced Brainwave to dispatch the terrestrially-bound members to scour the spire for any disturbances.
"I don't see why you won't let me perform the procedure on all of our captives," said Professor Zodiak. The man was inspecting Superman's petrified form once again, as he had done over and over since they brought him in, like a collector admiring his latest purchase. The Thinker didn't enjoy looking at it. There was an indelibly uncanny aspect to him, one that slipped past the borders of even the most life-like sculpture.
"We need their might for what lies ahead," said the Thinker.
"Not if I can regain the Philosopher's Stone. And my other instruments. What've I've accomplished here is a mere taste of the power my alchemy can achieve."
The man was not wrong based on DeVoe's research into him. All the same, he couldn't entertain the possibility. The Injustice Society's composition was predicated on a delicate balance of checks between its more powerful members. To grant any one of them such an outsized power would be their doom.
"After we bring the rest of the JSA to heel, along with the All-Star Squadron. I understand your impatience, but remain assured that we are all well on our way to accomplishing our wildest dreams."
There was a pop of blue light in the distance, the color of the flash cut by the clouds. He hoped that Brainwave could retain control of Hawkwoman even so far away. There had been talk of creating a machine to expand the range of his power, but DeVoe dragged his heels on it for much the same reason as he ignored Zodiak.
Harlequin entered the chamber. Sans Ragdoll.
"Any trouble?" said DeVoe.
"None on our end."
"Why are you here then?"
"I thought it would be more efficient to split our group. To better guard the other platforms."
The Thinker gave her his full attention. "An adequate idea. One we are already in the process of enacting. The others have taken the upper levels. Where is Ragdoll?"
"I sent him to patrol further below."
"What about Killer Moth?"
"He was the one who proposed splitting up."
"Curious. He never checked in after his search. How would he know what to do?"
There it was, the flicker of doubt on her features. "Zodiak!"
The professor held up his staff. The ground morphed by Harlequin's feet, forming hands that grasped at her legs. She was quick to respond, performing a series of acrobatic leaps and springs that brought her further into the room. The Thinker tuned his thinking cap to her, letting out a concentrated bolt of energy. Her body stiffened, as though struck by lightning, skidding to a halt by Superman.
"Black Canary I presume," said DeVoe.
"Mom always said I was no good at acting," said their foe, who was on one knee, her face still wracked with pain. Her form flipped between Harlequin and her true self, as the blue spectacles slid off her nose. Illusionary technology. DeVoe would really have to find out how they worked. They were at least as convincing as his own projections. Nearly as good as Brainwave's.
"Other than Starman who else had joined your foolish endeavor? Does Batman yet live?"
Black Canary didn't answer, instead regaining her footing. She was upright, but still fighting her own body as the Thinker continued to assail her with waves of mental punishment. There was no time to subdue her in this manner, not if other critical elements were at risk.
"How fortuitous for you Zodiak. We have no need of her at the moment, what with Mr. Terrific already among our ranks. What's one more ordinary person? You may petrify her at will."
Canary let out an anguished snort. "Heard that more than once today."
Zodiak lined up his staff, uttering a mishmash of Latin and Arabic. A thin spray of blue and gold sprung from the tip. When it made contact with Canary, DeVoe expected to see her harden into the same orange stone that made up Superman. Instead, it passed right through her flickering form.
"No," said DeVoe.
The ground to the left of her wavered, till Black Canary came into view, lying on her back, the blue glasses still on her face. The false form that Zodiak had fired on blinked out of sight. There it was the arrogance, the kind that marred the faces of everyone that opposed him.
"Course the best kind of liar is the one that everyone assumes is bad at it," said Black Canary. "But what do I know?"
He couldn't stand the smug look for another second. DeVoe ramped up the mental blasts, making her scream. "You've delayed your fate by moments. I hope it was worth the theatrics."
He was so annoyed at being fooled he scarcely noticed Zodiak running past him, casting worried glances the whole way.
Canary spoke through her cries. "One thing I...remembered from last time...we tangled with the good professor there…his work is all about reactions...they usually weren't one way."
If he hadn't been so singleminded, the Thinker might have heard the crackling of stone. Not that it would have done much at this distance. As the red and yellow shield filled his vision, DeVoe tasted blood in his mouth, having finally, properly bitten his tongue.
Batman jabbed the batarang into the tubes that ran along the underside of Karkull's device, carving a slit in each of them. Black fluid began to drip from the cuts, forming an oily puddle. It seemed unable to decide whether it was solid or liquid, adhering in strange fractals before sinking back into a formless pool. Proficiency in the designs of mad scientists and lunatics was a necessity in this line of work. He couldn't explain exactly how the machine functioned, but he was near certain that the loss of this fluid would bring its internal mechanisms to a halt in a manner that wasn't catastrophic for everyone around.
He felt the spire rumble. With any luck that meant Black Canary was successful in her mission. The machine's failure would free Doctor Fate. Which left his brainwashed counterparts and Wonder Woman. It was without any real sense of guilt that Batman realized he had forgotten about the Spectre, stolen away by Zor. A problem for Doctor Fate to handle. Superman and Canary could sweep the upper levels. He would search below.
He was nearly through the door when a figure leapt through the passageway, landing a kick into his midsection. He grunted, already reeling from the bruises caused by the fall into the canyon. Batman allowed himself to tumble backwards, rolling onto his feet. His opponent was Mr. Terrific, who appeared to stare right through him. This was going to be unpleasant.
Batman threw a batarang. Terrific caught it. Batman closed in, firing off a flurry of punches and kicks. Mr. Terrific parried most of them, with the others having little effect. He returned the favor with a straight arm that caught Batman in the neck, cleaving him off his feet. Batman caught the boot intended for his skull with both hands, yanking his brainwashed comrade down as well. They grappled on the stone floor, an ugly affair of elbows, knees and punches. Whoever held Terrific's mind, they were blunting his pain response. Batman had the advantage in overall technique, but he couldn't bring more debilitating options to bear. It was a fight of attrition that was tipping further out of his favor.
The brawl returned both participants to their feet. Terrific let out kick after painful kick, driving Batman back into the chamber. He was boxed in by Karkull's machine, which was wheezing having been deprived of its innards. In other circumstances, he would have been impressed by the man's performance. It was clear that Mr. Terrific had studied Batman's moves, that some part of his hijacked brain was still pulling from that pool of expertise. He didn't command the same depth of proficiency as Batman, but there was a brilliance for improvisation, one style feeding effortlessly into the other.
It remained anyone's fight until Batman's foot got caught in the black ichor. The leak from the machine had clearly grown over the course of their bout. The moment it took for him to try and dislodge it was a moment enough for Terrific to deliver a truly devastating left hook. Batman landed in the dark puddle, his vision swimming, with barely enough sense left to see the purple villain enter the room.
Doctor Fate was coming undone. The darkness gnawed at him from all sides, his valiant stand looking more and more like a foolish final gesture. The malevolence clarified into a singular presence, though the dark remained omnipresent. A slash of white cut through the black, a cruel smile.
"I estimated that you could have lasted hours if you conserved your energy, but that wasn't good enough for you. Fitting that your arrogance would hasten your demise," said Karkull. In spite of the mouth, his words came from everywhere, rising and falling in volume.
"I'll give you one final out. Submit to me and you shall live on, a thrall to my commands."
Doctor Fate knew he couldn't win. Nabu was right. There was no willing his way to victory, no matter how righteous the cause. He simply lacked that decisive edge with the mystic arts. Only submission to the helm would save him.
No. It was too late for that. Kent hadn't lived a proper life for very long, but he would not go back even in the face of death. To die with his sense of self preserved mattered more than victory here and now. He leaned into the darkness, letting loose with all he had left.
"Then oblivion awaits," said Karkull.
The darkness crept up his limbs, first along his legs, then over his lower body and onto his torso. Doctor Fate could feel it tightening around his neck as the golden gleam of his magics faded. The last thing he would see was Karkull's smile, a white slash through the void.
Till something happened. The infinite ocean of darkness sprung a leak. Light broke through the edges of his vision. The smile was gone.
"What?"
Kent seized on the chance, scouring his body of the darkness. He refocused his magics, a drill tunneling straight towards Karkull's presence. By the time he drove the concentrated javelin of magic into his foe's chest, the only shadow left was what clung to Karkull.
When Batman's vision refocused, the pool of black fluid was gone. He was being helped to his feet by Mr. Terrific, the cloudiness of his vision gone, replaced by concern.
"You alright chum?" said Mr. Terrific.
Behind his ally, was Doctor Fate, who held an incapacitated Ian Karkull by the nape of his neck.
"I'd apologize for the roughhousing, but I can feel that you got some hits in of your own," said Mr. Terrific. "You'll have to teach me a few of those moves."
"We can compare notes later. Where's the one that had you under his control?"
"No clue, I'm afraid. One minute I was trying to set that fellow straight, the next I'm standing here about to kick you while you're down. I think our friend's return woke me up."
Doctor Fate acted almost as though they weren't in the room, peeling off hunks of metal from the machine, which he fashioned into bindings for Karkull. Batman and Mr. Terrific stumbled as the spire rocked.
"That's not something I want to feel at this altitude," said Mr. Terrific.
From one of the windows, Batman watched as a section of the spire sheared off, plummeting silently to the canyon below.
"It would appear the Injustice Society isn't taking their impending defeat well. We still have Wonder Woman to recover. As well as the villains."
Fate was ahead of him, having wrapped Ragdoll in similar restraints. Harlequin's body wasn't present. She must have come to during the chaos and slipped out of her ties.
It was while Starman was avoiding a spray of gunfire from Toyman that Hawkwoman collided with him, wrenching the cosmic rod from his grip. She hit it with enough force to send it soaring away from him. Without it's aura, he promptly began to fall toward the mesa below.
The past year or so had largely cured Ted of any latent vertigo, but there was a marked difference between being at a notable height and dropping from it without any recourse. He was sure that he was flailing his limbs like a madman, any semblance of a scream torn from his throat in the dry night air. Had the situation not been so demanding, he may have found a wry source of comedy in how absurd his final moments were sure to be.
Alas, it was not his destiny to be a measly smear on the canyon floor. There was a flurry of flapping wings, then he was caught in strong arms. Hawkwoman eased out of her dive, back into a stable flight. She was decidedly less hostile.
"I assume whatever plagued your mind is gone?" said Starman.
"Unless this is just a sick mind game," said Hawkwoman.
Ted let out a relieved breath. "Seeing as humor was wholly absent from the previous encounter, I think it's the former."
They weren't entirely in the clear, as the buzz of Toyman's airplane menaced the skies above them once again.
"Any idea where your rod went?" said Hawkwoman.
"None that help us immediately." He felt a dash of envy for Wonder Woman, whose tiara always returned to her. Or Green Lantern. Ted had only seen the ring off his fingers once and it flew back with a will of its own. The cosmic rod could do that at close range, but with the distance they had covered, the search radius was a few miles across by now.
"Best hold on then," said Hawkwoman as Toyman began another strafing run.
Her friends were free. That was the only explanation Wonder Woman could think of for why the stone tower rocked a few times a minute. Or why Cheetah had arrived to her cell, with an expression that demanded death.
"Hello Priscilla. I knew I would see you soon," said Diana, still under the influence of the lasso.
The woman got closer, her claws extending and retracting with each flex of the hand.
"I've come to get what I'm owed."
"What about your comrades?"
"To hell with them."
Cheetah raised her hand to Wonder Woman's face, tracing a claw around her cheek. Diana felt it dig into the skin, drawing out a teardrop of blood. She pulled back, continuing to pace. Even now, she wishes to play with her food, Diana thought.
"I admit I haven't settled on what revenge will be more satisfying. I thought I'd have more time."
"You speak of vengeance, but I did you no wrong. Not personally."
"Death is the end goal of course. But, the thought of disfigurement is delectable. To let you linger, malformed, till time comes to finish the job."
Priscilla stopped in front of Diana. She reached out and clasped her head, claws only beginning to touch her.
"My heart hurts for you Priscilla. I can see how much pain you're in. How much pain you've been in for a long time."
Cheetah snarled. Diana felt the claws prick again. "Trying to buy time? Honestly I thought you better."
"I am sorry that I made you feel small. I know you won't believe me, but I know what that's like."
"You could never," said Cheetah, flashing her fangs.
"I worry I am constantly on the edge of failure. Of my homeland, my friends, my mother. Of the cause of peace. I have tasted that fear that rules you."
Her face remained curled in anger, but there was a spasm at the eyes. A softening, however brief. Diana felt the claws relax.
"I am sorry Priscilla. Sorry that I must do this to save you."
Wonder Woman stood up, shedding the lasso, which she had untied before Cheetah ever stepped in the room. She wrapped her arms around the woman, taking her in an embrace. The move stunned her foe to the extent that she gave Diana the opening to loop the lasso around her arms. That brought hostility back into the picture, with Cheetah giving her a bite on the shoulder for her trespasses.
"I will get you help. I will help you change," said Diana, while Cheetah unleashed every type of abuse she could imagine. She trussed up the woman, hefting her over her shoulder while the spire rattled.
"Why did I ever imagine we'd be saving you?" said Black Canary, who stood in the doorway.
Toyman didn't sound all that imposing till you considered his main enemy was Superman, which had a way of changing the scale. If it wasn't about to kill him, Starman would have liked to figure out how he built the plane which was currently pursuing Hawkwoman. It was fast enough to keep up with her wings and nimble enough that avoiding its hostility remained difficult. They were a ways out from the spire, their pursuer having set his sights solely on them.
"We can't keep this up," said Hawkwoman, veering right as a stream of bullets whizzed by.
She dropped in altitude further and further till Ted could see the surface of the mesa clearly, even through the darkness.
"I'm going to drop you off and handle him. Hit the dirt as soon as we touch down."
While he wasn't thrilled at his odds, he had confidence in Hawkwoman to even the odds against Toyman. Until he unleashed a previously unused projectile right as she let Ted down, an oversized cannon shot that plowed into the earth beside them, sending both heroes tumbling in separate directions. His ears rung, his left arm stinging from the shards of earth kicked up from the impact. He couldn't see where Hawkwoman ended up. The menacing buzz told him that Toyman was setting up for another pass.
There was a tingle along his right arm. At first, Starman thought it was the pain making him shake. It was only after it continued that he recognized it as the feedback of the thin gauntlet he had woven into the suit, the one connected to the cosmic rod.
There was a point during the engineering process of the rod where it made the leap from pure practicality into an almost transcendental understanding of the principles. The math, the science, was all there, but it had left behind what Ted could conceive of through the framework of conventional understanding, crossing over into the realm of ideas made manifest by his sheer will alone. It had become an act of faith, a trust that his work could be relied upon. An act which was being put to the test as he reached out to summon the rod, while the trail of bullets carved a path in the ground towards him.
Somewhere out in the night he felt the rod respond. Before Starman knew it, his salvation was in his hand. Acting entirely on reflex, he aimed it at Toyman, the settings switched to electromagnetism. A pulse of energy blossomed from the rod, one that washed over the incoming plane, turning back its bullets and taking it apart like the child's toy it was. The various components fell to the mesa, with Toyman landing on the ground in front of Starman, too stunned to react. All it took was a quick change of directions to fasten a number of loose parts to him, wrapping him in a metallic binding.
The spire didn't collapse so much as disintegrate, coming apart like grains of sand after whatever power had produced it finally failed. The sudden change kept Superman busy, plucking falling people from the air. He brought down the Thinker, Professor Zodiak, Ragdoll, Batman and Mr. Terrific, while Wonder Woman and Doctor Fate handled the rest.
"Is that everyone?" said Superman,.
Batman shook his head. He was a strange sight, his body covered by Killer Moth's costume, with only the cowl and utility belt remaining of his usual costume. A sign of the lengths Superman's teammates had to go to to free them.
"Hawkwoman and Starman are out there somewhere. Spectre's unaccounted for."
"For the Injustice Society, we don't have Toyman, Gentleman Ghost, Zor, Harlequin and Brainwave," added Black Canary.
Superman's hearing picked up a far away conversation that shed light on a few of the missing players.
"Starman and Hawkwoman are safe. They've secured Toyman."
His teammates looked relieved, particularly Canary. They had been through the ringer and it showed on their faces, their slumped postures. Superman hadn't come out unscathed, his muscles remaining stiff, as though they had grown accustomed to being stone.
Batman was directing the others to spread out to round up the other villains when Mr. Terrific dropped to his knees, his hands immediately grabbing at his temple. Wonder Woman went next, then Doctor Fate. Black Canary moaned out a "Not again," as she went down. Superman and Batman were not spared, with a sharp spear of agony rammed right into the center of his forehead. He hunched over, the world losing focus around him.
"So smug. So self-congratulatory. You haven't won yet," said Brainwave. The voice's origin was unclear, coming in waves.
Superman scanned around the team through squinted eyes. His comrades were on their knees or prone, overwhelmed by the psychic energy that assailed them. It wasn't long before he spotted Brainwave. It was hard to miss the dozens of Brainwaves that circled them, their numbers growing with each successive pass. If Superman wasn't being harried by the mental onslaught he could probably brute force his way through the army, but even remaining on his feet was a trial.
"This is all you can offer? I should have known the others were a waste of time. Only I have the might to crush the Justice Society."
A few of the Brainwaves dissipated as Wonder Woman's tiara cut through them. They were replaced as swiftly as they fell. Wonder Woman was squatting, her face scrunched in pain. She threw it again and again, but it wouldn't be enough. Every action, every thought was becoming more difficult, as if Brainwave was erasing their minds.
Superman was suddenly aware of a tapping at his ankle. Batman was lying nearly flat, his arm outstretched trying to get Superman's attention.
"Try..the Karlo strategy," said his comrade, before he collapsed completely.
The Karlo strategy? Superman shut his eyes, channeling all his dwindling focus into his hearing. He tried to filter out the pained groans of his friends, to sweep the mesa for one distinctive noise.
There! Superman spun around completely, lunging forward with what little coordination he had left. He ignored the many Brainwaves that his body passed through, his hands grabbing at the only solid one in the entire pack. The only one with a heartbeat.
"How?" shouted Brainwave.
Clark's world exploded into colors and sensations he had never conceived of, while the pain shot up dramatically, all the malice aimed straight at him. Were it not for his speed it likely would have cooked his brain. Instead, he knocked out Brainwave with the lightest of taps. The horde of mental duplicates vanished.
His head remained fuzzy as he brought the unconscious villain back to the others, who were in various states of recovery. Superman helped Batman to his feet.
"How did you know that would work?"
"I didn't. It was a working theory that Brainwave hadn't anticipated your enhanced senses. He wasn't expecting to have to conceal his heartbeat from a man with super hearing."
"You figured all that out while he was busy melting our minds?"
Batman merely grunted in affirmation.
Doctor Fate assisted in the search for any of the villains that were unaccounted for. He wasn't too keen on spreading out after their ordeal, but it was clear that the Injustice Society was in full retreat. Zodiak had run off during Brainwave's assault. Fortunately, he was an easy man to track, his equipment giving off a distinctive trail of magic.
Kent couldn't help but replay the climactic moments of his battle with Karkull. Though it shamed him, he could not get past the fact that were it not for his comrades intervention he would be dead, another part of that endless veil of shadows. Karkull had always been a threat, but their past encounters were on more even footing. This one was distinctly imbalanced and not in the way Doctor Fate was used to. He had to confront the unpleasant reality. His current prowess was not enough. He was not enough for the role he possessed. The mantle of Fate demanded more of him. He was preemptively bracing for the endless study and practice that would be required to regain even a fraction of what the helm offered.
A layer of fog had settled on the canyon rim. From it rolled Zodiak, pale as a ghost, his breathing shallow. His entrance was followed by the encroach of the Spectre, their green cloak coiling through the gloom.
"Spectre? I thought you had been taken."
The ghoulish figure barely regarded Doctor Fate. "No prison can hold me for long. Surely you already know that."
Doctor Fate ignored the possible provocation. He had long wondered whether or not the Spectre knew of his attempt to banish them years ago. "What of Zor?"
"That villain will no longer trouble us. I have bound him, properly this time."
The Spectre fielded no further questions, gliding past Doctor Fate, leaving their quarry on the ground. It was not the night air that made Kent shiver. It was the look of sheer joy on the Spectre as they passed him by.
Black Canary rested on the mesa, her back to a more or less comfortable rock. The others could manage the search. She had earned a respite for her troubles.
She was beginning to nod off when a white light appeared to her right. Dinah could scarcely muster the energy to turn towards it. Standing there, shimmering in the fog, was Gentleman Ghost.
"If you're looking for a fight, my teammates will be here the second I call them," said Dinah.
"How crass. My dear, I have no illusions about the outcome of this engagement. Your side has won the day."
"Come to surrender then?"
"Ha. My compatriots may be bound for jail, but there is no need for me to accompany them. Allow me to clarify my intent. I come as a humble messenger, a herald of woe, if you'll permit me to say my piece that is."
"Go on."
"I joined this enterprise for the common cause of vengeance, namely against the Hawks. I don't imagine the words of a rapscallion such as myself will prove persuasive at the present hour, yet I cannot pass up the chance to forewarn you about the peril they represent."
"Meaning?"
There was no face to examine, but Dinah swore the floating monocle gleamed in the hazy moonlight. "They are no saints. You break bread with base murderers, individuals so stained by their bloodshed that it is a wonder the ground they tread does not run crimson."
"That's a hefty accusation. Any proof?"
"That would require time we do not have. I am simply opening a door you make walk through at your leisure. As a gesture of good will, I present one further morsel. The Injustice Society was prepared for your arrival, our present disarray notwithstanding. The architects of this scheme knew the precise composition of your party."
"How?"
"If only I knew. Ta, ta madame. May our paths cross in less trying circumstances."
The man was gone, having faded into the fog. Dinah's thoughts were as murky as her surroundings. His words could be chalked up to mere misdirection, a last thumb in their eye. But, the alternative remained troubling.
"Were you talking to someone?" said Starman, coming out of the mist.
"Just ghosts."
The monuments reappeared with the destruction of Karkull's machine, freed from the shadow realm to which they had been stolen. Wonder Woman and most of the team had relocated to Flagstaff, where the authorities were on hand to take custody of the Injustice Society.
"Too bad we didn't get them all," said Mr. Terrific as the Thinker was loaded into the police wagon. The officers shut the back door with a decisive clang. Harlequin, Gentleman Ghost and the one identified as Despero had evaded them.
"They'll turn up," said Black Canary. "All we need to flush out Harlequin is a glimpse of Green Lantern."
"I've got a few choice words for that purple bastard," said Terrific.
"Get in line," said Hawkwoman.
Diana didn't pay much mind to their banter. Instead, she let her gaze linger on the wagon that Priscilla Rich had been placed in. That woman bore so much hatred in her heart. Diana wished she knew a way to extract it before it poisoned every facet of her being. She longed for the wisdom of her mother, her sisters. Though rare, they would sometimes speak of the beginnings of Themyscira, of the anger that they carried in their new home, sealed off by the gods. They chose to heal, to turn towards peace rather than to indulge in that fury. They did not let it define them.
Diana had no interest in perpetuating her enemy's hatred. She would find a way to end the cycle.
April 6, 1942
"Are you saying that we can trust the word of this Gentleman Ghost?" said Superman.
"No. Black Canary doesn't think so either," said Batman. "But, there are certain indications that he isn't lying."
They were in the Batcave. The chitter of thousands of Bruce's namesake made up the background hum of their conversation. There was no chance of Robin interrupting, Bruce having made sure that he had left for school before inviting Clark for a debrief as he called it. Clark gestured for him to continue.
"The Injustice Society was prepared for the team that showed up. Vandal Savage knew about our teammate's trip to Bataan. There's a leak somewhere. I suspect more than one."
"At what level?"
Batman glanced over his notes. "I'm still figuring that out. Odds are its high, higher than should be possible. The Yellow Claw's syndicate is still out there, working behind the scenes to further the goals of their master. They've exploited our distractions."
"You haven't shared this with the whole team, have you?"
"I've kept it in a closed loop."
"You suspect someone among us?"
Batman didn't answer.
"I hope for our sake your wrong."
"I do too," said Batman.
They finished up, with promises to keep one another informed on any developments. Before Clark left, an impulse stopped him.
"Bruce?"
Batman turned back to look at Superman.
"How did you make peace with living a dual life?"
Batman was a hard person to surprise, but Clark had a clear view of the minuscule changes to his expression that indicated he had managed just that. Batman sat thinking for a long pause, then pulled off his cowl. Clark was always struck by how sad his eyes were when the sheen of his public persona was pulled from them.
"Did something happen Clark?" Always the detective, always probing.
"I..I've been dealing with a few challenges as Clark. Challenges that Superman has only made more difficult. I thought that if any of us know what it's like to feel split in two, it might be you."
"I'd like to have a clear answer for you. All this though," said Bruce, gesturing to the Batcave, his costume, "all this is part of the mission. I've come to terms with the fact that my life outside the mask is just another tool in the war. I take it that's not an option for you though."
"I don't think it can be," said Clark. "Thank you for trying."
Superman went to leave, with Bruce calling out one last time as he took flight.
"If you ever figure it out, let me know."
An indeterminate time in the near future.
Earth had made for a mixed journey. That had been expected. Humans were rather pathetic as a whole, a species of maladjusted primates squabbling in the mud. Yet, the trip hadn't been without its surprises. The emergence of superhumans was in its infancy, on the way to reshaping their planet. To say nothing of the fact that the world cradled a Kryptonian, a race that was widely held to be extinct. There was potential. Already his heralds spread tales of his voyage far and wide. Why keep the news a secret? Despero, ruler of Kalanor, guardian to the Flame of Py'Tar, was nothing if not generous. Earth and its defenders would learn that one day soon.