PART 1 - Chapter 23 - The Dark Matters of Faith - Babel
While a Spider perceives a flower, monsters fall into his webs.
WORD OF WARNING: This author has STILL NOT played the new PS5 Spider-Man 2 game nor watched any "let's play", trying to keep the surprises still surprising, and probably that could be the same for many other readers, so, be considerate and avoid spoilers in the reviews, please!
Thank you!
'So… I may have celebrated prematurely.' Peter sipped from his coffee mug.
Ever since he had brought in the latest equipment, the scientist had to rethink his workplace in the Chrysalis to avoid overcrowding it. His solution had been installing more mechanical arms that would operate from the ceiling, at that moment holding several touchscreens displays, currently exhibiting videos, news articles and social media photos, all pertaining to the infamous (and previously unknown to him) Doctor Pamela Lillian Isley, or, as she was more commonly known, the supervillain 'Poison Ivy'.
'Botanist and geneticist turned eco-terrorist - heh! - as a scientific experiment went wrong and she became part plant, part human, all insane.'
A small photo of the red haired scientist appeared, pre-accident, followed by another one of her, her physique more voluptuous and more athletic, taken after her accident. She was wearing a costume made completely out of vines and leaves, and there was a police car on top of what appeared to be an apple tree that had sprouted in the middle of the street.
'Chlorokinesis', Peter mentally noted. 'Control, creation and alteration of plant matter. She can manipulate the shape of plants as well as their growth rate. Threat Level assessments from Justice League puts her as CT, a City Threat.'
Another sip. 'Mentally unstable misanthrope with Mother Nature complex and the power to actually do something about it. Great, as things could not get more complicated.' Peter stopped mid-gulp, sensing that he had just tempted fate.
'Let me check her status… aaaaaaand… of course, currently at large from the authorities. But, oh, what is this?', Peter swiped over a smaller screen and sent a grouping of news articles to the larger monitor on the wall. 'Recently spotted working with the Birds of Prey? So… that would put her under the Bats and Birds? Or are they not vigilantes as well?'
Something pinged on his speakers, then all videos were paused, as a red banner alert appeared on the main monitor.
'ALERT: ATTEMPTED SYSTEM INVASION IN PROGRESS'
The mug was quickly emptied of its content, as the scientist pulled a KordPad from the table and unlocked it. 'Oracle again? No, this is much less stealthy', Peter would compare her previous attempts to surgical strikes. This one, though, was more akin to a sledgehammer to his front door.
'Looks like I picked someone's attention, but how? And why?'
The previous research on Poison Ivy was sent to a folder, and where once were photos and articles, now several lines of code spread around the scientist, his enhanced eyesight helping him to recognize patterns and where they were interrupted.
'Perhaps the parameters of my research had some trigger… but was it over Poison Ivy? Or something else?'
Peter covered his traces well, his IP had been flickering between eight countries, so something he had accessed or downloaded might have done it, a hidden tracer inside a police report, a line of code hidden in a database security check, anything.
And, just like Oracle, they were hiding pretty well. Sure, Peter could counter attack like no one, but there was a whole art to using the digital invasion against their perpetrators. That was why he could screw with Oracle's systems at a distance, but still could not find a single trace of her afterwards - for all he knew, she could be anywhere in Gotham, from a bunker hidden under the city to even the public Library!
And yet, just like Oracle, Peter had the home field advantage.
'Let's see if they fall prey to the same trick, huh, G.O.O.B.E.R.? But this time, let's give them something a little nastier than the 'Itsy-Bitsy' treatment', he said, already typing.
—-
Few moments later.
Undisclosed location.
Chaos erupted.
—-
"And that's that", Peter triumphantly declared, seeing the virtual 'feelers' retroceding from his private system. "I almost feel bad over dropping 'Nimrod' on top of them. Almost."
"Now, whatever I've found must be good, because someone went to a lot of trouble to try and find me", Peter rationalized. Ever since Oracle's last attempts, the scientist had developed a few extra-layers of security, including bugging a few specific transmission towers all around Gotham and coding a second virtual assistant program, 'Nimrod', just for the sole purpose of getting intruders out of his scent. 'I should not underestimate this world's techno-wizards', he reminded himself, 'Just because I haven't found them, it doesn't mean there is no Valeria Richards or Victor Von Doom on this Earth, or their equivalents.'
The previous investigation resumed, Peter started checking every little detail that he could gather about Poison Ivy, any hint that she could help him find the kidnapped homeless people or identify the kidnappers. And what he had found wasn't pretty.
First, the accident story, that got repeated over and over through several news articles and blogs, might not had been an accident at all.
Leaked documents from the Army showed that, years before, Isley had been part of a military-funded research program, along with several of the up-and-coming brightest minds in the genetics and botany field.
('Kinda like the Chrysalis, except working for the Government.')
They were all under the leadership of Jason Woodrue, huge name in those areas on this Earth, who was also proponent of far-out and polemic ideas, such as the existence of a psychospiritual connection between all plant life on Earth.
('Sounds a lot like The Gaia Hypothesis, but focused only on the greenery.')
From what Peter could infer from an incomplete report, there was a noted lack of results after the first year of the Project, and, by the end of year two, its budget had been suspended and the group had been reduced to literally just Woodrue and Isley.
Two weeks after this report, Isley had been checked into a military hospital, comatose, then moved to a civilian center, where she woke up and fled, completely out of control and exhibiting superpowers. This matched with what most articles spoked about Poison Ivy…
… except the military documents painted a more complete picture. Emails from Woodrue showed the man was getting desperate with the decrease in money, and after getting too many replies demanding him to finally 'show results', the man had locked himself and Isley in their laboratory, blocking any access from anyone else. Two nights after his last email, Pamela Isley is sent to the hospital and a week later James Woodrue is given a new position at Ivy University.
'Whatever happened in that laboratory, the military in charge of this clusterfrick were quick to send Dr. Isley as far away they could from their test site and to reward Woodrue with a nice job placement. If it were just an accident, they would not be handing out gifts to the man, so he may have done something intentionally to his protégé or it might have been an accident and he took advantage of the situation, I don't know, but, whatever happened, Pamela Isley was a victim, and Woodrue used what happened to her to buy his way out of jail.'
'No wonder she is so pissed at the world, she was used by her mentor and her tragedy was erased by her employers', Peter lamented as he observed the enzyme that had been causing him so much headache.
'Looks like I'll have to tackle this on my own', Peter concluded, preparing himself for a long day of experiments, then he muttered to himself.
"Still, I wonder if there is a way to convince her to help me."
—-
One Hour later.
Previously mentioned undisclosed location.
"Report"
"At approximately oh-nine-oh-three, one of our tracking programs was alerted on someone trying to acquire military information pertaining members of the 'Birds of Prey', specifically one of the candidates for the Task Force-"
"I am aware of that, proceed to the relevant information", the tone of voice was both icy and comically nonplussed.
"Err… yes, Ma'am. Standard tracking was initiated, proceeded by verification and infection of unknown foreign systems. 'Euphemus' and 'Atalanta' were initially able to hack their wait into the computer", the technician mentioned their heavily controlled AI servers. "Or so we thought, until the captured data package, retrieved from the origin, revealed itself to be a trap."
"Like a Trojan virus."
"Ma'am, no offense, but none of us have ever seen anything like this. In a matter of thirty seconds, both Euphemus and Atalanta were taken over."
"I thought their safeguards would not allow them to fight against us, even if hacked."
"Ma'am, once again, no offense, but they are not fighting against us, they are still very much on our side. Simplest explanation would be, they are stuck. Every outport and tracking system, every deeper counter hacking measures, every infiltration-sabotaging switch, all of it has been taken over by whatever program was fetched from the unknown target. It started to replicate itself and expanded through every tracking program available."
"Lord Almighty. They stole our weapons."
"Actually, no. The invading program aimed only to take control of specific portions of the main Black Ops systems and is actively corrupting any information received or transmitted. The AIs are doing their jobs, containing the spread to just their own systems, but, as of the moment, we can't control any of the invaded systems. They are operational, just ineffective."
"You're saying that our spy network is… blind?"
"More like suffering from a stroke, Ma'am. Whatever we receive from our trackers, spy cameras, hidden microphones, et cetera, all becomes incomprehensible gibberish, and whatever we send to our operatives, may it be classified information or coded messages, turns into indecipherable nonsense."
"What is the solution your department has found, and you better have one, son, immediately."
"We… Ma'am, the consensus is that a complete shutdown of both our general and infected systems, followed by a gradual and meticulous reinitiation and actuation of each operational section will purge the infiltrated program. It will take around twenty hours, but it is the assured way that'll result in success."
"... did you really just suggest the solution is 'turn it off, then turn it back on'?"
"It would be far more complicated than -"
"Just… just leave and do it. You have your orders."
"Very well, Ma'am".
"And," she took a breath to focus, "after it's all done... I want a separate team of researchers and operatives, fully dedicate on uncovering everything there is to know about this new... menace. Every. Thing. Am I clear?"
"Crystal, Ma'am".
Moments later, finally alone in her own office, Amanda Waller wondered to herself.
'Some days, this job is simply not worth the headache.'
—-
Back in Gotham
Night time.
At the top of GCPD's Headquarters, the lightest snow started to fall, early for the season but not the earliest Gotham had seen.
And amid the light falling snowflakes, the roar of flames.
The Bat-Signal, overworked and overheated for almost a week, had finally reached its breaking point, the most fragile filaments of its electronic components melting and setting fire to the inner mechanism of the specially modified searchlight.
Fighting the flames, Officer Callahan and Turturro flapped their uniform coats over the flames, trying to give room for their boss, Commissioner James Gordon, to spray the whole contents of a fire extinguisher.
Lieutenant Detective Bullock was also there, but keeping himself at a distance the whole time. Even if he had warned the Commissioner the previous night over it, it pained him to see this symbol of resistance against crime break.
It took the cops a couple minutes of coordinated work, but they finally won out, the remains of 'Siggy', as they called it, were finally covered in smoke and foam.
Callahan, the youngest of the officers, asked the question in everyone's mind.
"What should we do with it?"
"Get a new one."
The unexpected answer came from the youngest vigilante of Gotham City, Robin, who was suddenly there on the rooftop, none of the adults had noticed his arrival.
The preteen stared at the four men, angry. "Now", he demanded.
The older men stared at one another, matching looks of worry.
"I said now!", Robin ordered, not loud, just irate.
The comforting hand of Jim Gordon rested on the boy's shoulder, slightly sheltering the hero from the snow while giving him unspoken support, as the hero gave, in the least strong tone of voice any of them had ever heard him use, a final request.
"Now… please."
To be Continued!
Author's Notes:
Wow, what a chapter!
... I know, it's just talk-talk-talk, not that much action.
Also, Peter keeps just messing around with the wrong people... but I'm sure this won't have any future repercusions, right?
Don't worry! Next chapter is going to be what EVERYONE has been wondering about, the answer to the question...
'When is Batman going to show up?'
P.s: For the Guest Review, that was genius!
