Galatea sits alone at the dinner table. A foreboding silence weighs down the air around her. After the events of yesterday, the lack of their presence heightens her worry. As if the things she overheard yesterday didn't make her nervous enough about what tonight might bring, knowing they are already gone only exacerbates the issue. Alfred brings out a plate of food, placing it on the table in front of her. She looks at it sadly before speaking to him.
"Just me tonight, Alfred?"
"I'm afraid Master Bruce and Master Dick had prior engagements this evening."
"I see. Alfred-"
She starts and then stops herself, finishing her sentence only in her head. Are they okay? Expecting her to finish that thought aloud, Alfred looks back at her only to find her anxiously chewing on her lower lip in silence. Galatea has a bad habit of displaying her emotions openly on her face, and he can easily read her anxiety. What it's centered on; now that is a point of contention in his mind. Not that he knows this, but she knows what "prior engagements" will be keeping them, and now she can't stop thinking about the danger they are in. As she agonizes over it she realizes she didn't even get a chance to see them off or make sure they were okay before they left. Bruce is still injured; the least I could have done to help was heal his wound. Instead I'm here and Alfred is stuck babysitting me. She sighs aloud. I need some air. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I don't think I have much of an appetite. Is it alright if I go for a walk in the gardens instead?"
"Certainly Miss Galatea."
"Thank you. Excuse me."
Alfred quietly watches her rise from her place and the table and walk away, distracted. He can't help but wonder what it was she originally wanted to say to him, and what exactly is on her mind now.
Lost in her thoughts, she wanders away from him and out into the gardens. As she paces around the rose garden, the weight of their absence continues to burden her mind. Did they already head out? Are they in danger now, I wonder? Her gaze wanders to the window of Dick's room, hoping in vain for signs of him, for a chance to see them both once more before they head into danger. Curiously, her eyes catch the shadows of movement in Bruce's study nearby. So they are still here. She sighs and turns back towards the rose bushes. The gentle floral aroma almost soothes her racing thoughts, but seeing that movement in the window reignited the fires in her mind. Would they even want my help? If I rushed up there and offered to help, would they even accept? Once again, her mind fixates on their fate, spiraling towards all the possible negative outcomes for their night. A cracked rib and a bullet wound, what's next? She shudders. I wonder if they can win against someone like that, especially while one of them is injured. Maybe I should have thought of some excuse to heal Bruce's shoulder earlier; I could have bumped into him or taken notice somehow. I should have done something, I want to do something. She crouches down in front of one of the bushes and tucks her knees into her chest. After everything I said yesterday about trust, here I am worried about him, about both of them. It's not as though I don't think they can do it, I just wish there was something I could do to help. Nine years of combat training and somehow I'm stuck here sitting on my thumbs.
"Ugh," she groans out loud, "I can't take this!"
With no one around her, her complaints are heard only by the roses before her. She sighs and looks up at the moon in the sky: that same dark shadow from the night before seems to mock her now. What would you do Mother? Silence answers her still. I guess it doesn't matter, really. I came down here to make decisions for myself after all. What was the point of running away if I'm going to ask for your help anyway?
The rapturous roar of a vehicle departing from the manor interrupts that outward silence. There they go. The sound of it wakes her up from her indecisive haze and she slaps both of cheeks to finish the job. If you want to help them, then help them. What was the point of coming down here if you aren't going to be your own person? All that talk about building a life here yesterday, and now you're questioning yourself. Just do what you want to do, for once.
"Right!"
She says this aloud to herself as she rises up to her feet with a start. If there are any clues to their whereabouts they are probably in whatever base of operations they use. I could ask Alfred; if I let him know I'm trying to help, maybe he'll help me. Alfred's words from the day before echo in her mind; the sharp, threatening tone of his voice reminding her now to think twice about asking him. Then again, maybe not. Instead, she tries to imagine how they access this theoretical base so she can find it on her own. I hate to betray Alfred's trust, but if he decides I'm more of a threat than an asset it will cause unnecessary conflict. Actually, now that I think about it, why was he so incensed about my presence outside the study yesterday? Could it be? As she mulls over the events of yesterday she recalls how Bruce disappeared from inside his study after his argument with Dick. Then she remembers their shadows in the window of that same study just moments before they drove off. There is probably some kind of entrance in there. That's probably why Alfred was so defensive of that particular area of the manor. Seems like a good enough place to start.
Quietly she glides through the grand halls of the manor, making her way to Bruce's study. She keeps an eye out for Alfred, but makes it to her destination without incident. She finds the door cracked open and slips through into the room. The lights are off and the dim glow of the crescent moon provides little light to the dark room; her eyes fight to adjust to the difference in luminosity. She lets out a deep breath to steady her heart and closes her eyes against the darkness. The sensation brings to mind a memory she has of Artemis.
"Mother, I can't see anything. It's pitch black in here."
"And? There is nothing wrong with darkness, Galatea. It is a natural part of the cycle."
"Except for the fact that you can't see anything."
"There is more to perception than what your eyes can see. Embrace it Galatea, let the darkness wash over you, and then tell me what you perceive with your other senses. What does the darkness smell like? What sounds does it make? How does it feel on your skin, or taste on your tongue? Darkness is only the absence of light, not the absence of matter itself. A thing does not cease to exist simply because it lives in darkness."
Remembering her training, she immerses herself in the darkness of the room, allowing her other senses to take over. She can feel the air move strangely in the room, and she can smell a faint dampness seeping into it from one of the room's four corners. She follows the scent through the room and feels the temperature of the air shift around her in pockets. There is some kind of draft and another presence in the room. Ignoring the presence, she allows the scent-trail to lead her to an old grandfather clock against the wall of the room; she opens her eyes to the darkness, feeling the presence of another person now behind her. The moment her movement stops, she hears a mechanical "click" from behind her.
"That's far enough, Miss Galatea."
She lets out a disappointed sigh, recognizing his familiar presence the moment it entered the room. She acknowledges him.
"Alfred."
"I tried to warn you, didn't I?"
"Let's drop the pretense, why don't we?"
"Indeed."
"Alfred, listen, I already know; this is not necessary."
"I'm not quite sure what you're referring to, Miss Galatea."
"I'm sure that you do: I am speaking of Bruce's and Dick's secret. I'm no fool; I've known since they took me in. I have kept up this charade out of respect for both of them, but I won't continue if it hinders me from helping them in a time of need. I want to help; not dig through their closets."
"You'll forgive my suspended disbelief."
"I've grown rather fond of you Alfred and I'd rather not harm you, but I owe the two of them a life-debt and not even you can stop me from repaying it."
"An interesting perspective. Let me present you another: a strange girl conveniently lands in our backyard and just so happens to need help. Once she earns the young master's trust, I catch her snooping around, not once, but twice. These facts are spelling out quite the story."
"You suspect I have malicious intentions? Alfred, I want to help."
"I am only following the evidence, Miss Galatea. It doesn't matter that I don't want to Believe where it's leading me or that I want to Believe you are well-intended. If I'm being honest, I'd rather not harm you either, but my loyalties lie with my masters and I will do what I must."
"And yet, you still haven't pulled that trigger."
"Indeed."
"Then we are at an impasse."
"I would say so."
Silently Galatea moves with the swiftness of a viper, dipping low and kicking high to knock the gun out of Alfred's hand. The heavy "clang" of it resounds in the quiet room as it collides with the solid wood floor. Using her arms she launches herself up and over to where the gun is. She picks it up, straightens out, and then offers it back to Alfred.
"No secret is worth keeping at the expense of the lives of those we hold most dear. I want to protect them too, Alfred. If I wanted to hurt them, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done so. But that's not what I want, so you have no reason to fear me."
"So you're saying I should trust you because I have no other choice?"
"No, I'm asking you to trust me because I'm trying to prove that I'm trustworthy. I thought maybe, by showing you my true strength you might understand that I mean you no harm. With my skills, had I wanted to strike, to betray you all, I could have done so. I've never been very good at convincing anyone with my words, so this is the only way I know how to convey my intentions. Here, take it. If it makes you feel safer than I want you to have it; you can keep it pointed at me, if it helps." With a surprised look on his face, Alfred takes the gun back from her outstretched hand. They've already both been injured by this adversary they face, and I don't want it to happen again. If I can prevent that, I'm going to. That will be a lot easier if you're willing to help me. Will you let me help, Alfred?"
"Very well."
"Thank you Alfred, I promise you won't regret this!" She smiles a relieved smile at him that almost makes him feel guilty for mistrusting her. "I came in here to try and find their base of operations, The Bat Cave, if you will, so I can get a fix on their location. I figured if I can get closer to them, I can be nearby to help them if they need it, but far enough away to stay out of their way if they don't need it. I assumed I'd find the means to do so at their base. Was that correct for me to assume?"
"Yes, and you were very close to finding it, too." He takes the gun from her hand and tucks it away before continuing. "Would you kindly look away while I access the entrance?"
"If that makes you feel more comfortable, then certainly."
Galatea closes her eyes and spins on her heels, facing away from Alfred and the clock. With her eyes closed once more, her other senses kick back into high gear. She can hear the quiet sliding sound of a gloved finger turning the hands of the clock followed by the sound of the gears in the face of the clock moving. Then, a crescendo of metallic grinding as a more complex system of gears turns, superseded by the familiar groaning of stone from the day damp draft she felt emanating from this corner of the room swells out from behind her with the movement of the clock.
"You can turn around now." She obeys his command, turning much more slowly than she did to face away from him. "You go in first, and I will follow, but watch your step."
Again, she listens to his command. She walks forward, moving past Alfred, into the opening of the hidden passageway before the clock slides back into place, encircling them in darkness. In the dark of the tunnel, whatever light that existed in the previous room is swallowed whole. Galatea swallows and then closes her eyes again, a faint glow begins to emanate from her person, surprising Alfred. Surprising still, is the gentle smile she offers him.
"I am accustomed to the dark, but I imagine it is difficult for you to see without a little light. I hope this helps."
"I wasn't aware you possessed such abilities, Miss Galatea."
"I'm not really sure if I call this much of an ability, so much as a parlor trick. For the sake of transparency, and to gain your trust, I'd be happy to list all of my talents for you."
"It's the, shall we say, extrahuman, abilities that have me concerned."
"Fair enough. Well, as you can see, I have the ability to manipulate light; but this is about the extent of my capability. Not a very useful skill if you ask me. Much more useful are my healing skills; I'd say I am most proficient in healing magic out of all of my special skills. Other than that I am a rather competent fighter. I'm not sure it counts by your standard for abilities, but I do have extensive training in the use of a variety of weapons as well as multiple styles of martial arts. I still have a ways to go before I can boast about any of my skills, though."
The pathway begins to warm with a dim light and the walls begin to widen, signifying it is coming to its destination.
"I see."
"Alfred, aren't you worried about them? How do you do this: sit back here while they're out there? I feel like jumping out of my skin."
"It is…not easy."
The light grows stronger and as they wind down the stairs the cave opens up to display an extravagantly equipped base of operations. The sight of it causes Galatea to suck in a breath in awe; the cave is much larger than she ever could have imagined it. She is surprised to see it is an actual cave, complete with a colony of real bats calling its ceiling their home. It is outfitted with numerous items of varying technology, trophies, and equipment. She wants to ask questions about the cave, to talk with him about the sights around her, but she reminds herself to stay focused on the task at hand. Dick is in danger. There will be time for that later.
"So much equipment here; there must be some way I can help them." She pauses to look around and then back at Alfred. "There must be some kind of way you track their progress while they're out, isn't there? If I were in your position, I'd want to know if they are okay. Life signs, location, an open line of communication, anything like that?"
"You're a bit too clever for your own good, Miss Galatea."
She smiles a bit in embarrassment. "That's what Mother's always saying to me too." Then a sudden look of surprise replaces her embarrassed smile. "Wait, does that mean-"
"Come on then."
After interrupting her, Alfred waves her along and leads her over to the Bat computer. He removes one of his gloves and places it on a dark pad beside a large number of keys and controls. After a brief moment, Galatea watches as the massive screen before her comes to life. The bright flash of light on its surface is almost blinding in the dim light of the cave. A map of Gotham appears with two blinking dots on the move across it. Two windows in corresponding colors appear beside it, showing various life signs for both Batman and Robin: heart rate, oxygen levels, core temperature.
Alfred watches as Galatea stares at the screen in wonder, then her eyes frantically deciphering its information. She lets out an audible sigh and he takes notice of the genuine look of relief on her face.
"They're okay," she says aloud. It seems to Alfred that a tension in her body is released as she admits this to herself.
"You do care about them."
She then straightens out confidently and turns towards him with a determined expression on her face. "Of course! Why else would I go through all of this trouble?" She turns back towards the monitor with a pensive look on her face. "Now to figure out what I can actually do to protect them from here. Alfred, is there-"
A beeping from the computer interrupts her. Both of the life signs windows show elevated heart rates and body temperatures.
"It's started," Alfred says in a somber tone.
"Already? But they just got there."
A worried look overtakes her confident expression from a moment before. She swallows hard as she watches their little dots move across the screen, imagining the two people they represent in real danger. They dart from the map to their life signs like a rapid pendulum. Please. She quietly begs in her mind. Please be okay.