Disclaimer: I do not own anything Young Justice, or DC Comics. This is my take on a character
January 2nd 2016 - Riley
So, the Secretary General of the United Nations is actually an alien piloting a Secretary General Tseng robot. Called it. Okay, I didn't call that exactly. I didn't have the time to fly to New York City to personal observe the Secretary General of the UN on the off chance he's an alien piloting a robot instead of just a robot imposter or an impersonator. I did send a rather lengthy email to the Justice League two months ago that maybe they should look more closely into the Secretary General's activities along with a load of evidence of abnormal behavior. As usual they ignored my email. I move over to my Tseng corkboard board and draw a big red circle around the word 'alien', then after a moment do the same around the word 'robot'.
I've always been smart. Chemistry has been my thing since my dad bought me a chemistry set for my seventh birthday. Living in Gotham, you could come up with a lot to practice with if you just had a little nerve: a little Joker gas residue here, a little Scarecrow fear toxin there (come on, he dumped it in the water), some venom from one of Batman's many encounters with Bane. I never lacked for experiments. The police in Gotham really suck cleaning up crime scenes.
The multitude of psychoactive chemicals available made it inevitable that I'd find my own mixture. My drug Uptick (patent application pending), increased my already frankly genius intellect, improved my reflexes, and made my attention span 'yes'. There were a few other benefits but those were the most obvious. It took a while to get the formula exactly right. I spent my eighth-grade year in and out of the hospital; my parents and the doctors had no idea what was going on. I had it perfected by the summer before my freshman year. Which was probably a good thing considering what the experimentation was doing to my health. That gave me the entire summer to use the improvements it granted to their fullest. I put a lot of effort into physical training that summer. I spent a lot of time studying Batman and Robin, developing a training regimen that would get me into that type of shape, and watching MMA. By the time I started my freshman year, I was fit, beautiful, and smarter than anyone else by a large margin. I was also smart enough to figure out that being a superhero, my plan up to that point, was a dangerous endeavor.
Being a genius is great. Being a SUPER-GENIUS is a double-edged sword. I stopped eating food I didn't prepare or at least see being prepared. I made the mistake of analyzing the school meatloaf. That led to one of the cooks being arrested for embezzling money and purchasing substandard ingredients. The call was anonymous but with too much evidence for the school and the police to cover up. Who puts sawdust in meatloaf?
On the bright side, my family came into enough money to move out of the more crime-ridden part of Gotham into a part that's merely crime adjacent. It's really weird that nobody else remembered that great uncle on my dad's side who was given up for adoption and made a killing in the stock market after World War 2. He obviously existed; all the proper paperwork shows he did; records back to his birth in 1923 prove it.
Graduating high school two years early was anticlimactic, but it did leave me with a lot of time to indulge my hobbies. Although I decided my future would not include spandex, it didn't mean I couldn't help out in other ways. Unlike the Justice League, I didn't want to be mind-controlled by a bunch of villains working very disturbingly in concert. I'm not sure anyone else in the world even noticed the event... makes me wonder what the villains' end-game was supposed to be.
I'm fine moving behind the scenes feeding the heroes information when they are moving a little too slow. Twenty-seven tips in the last four months. As far as I can tell the League didn't act quickly enough on any of them. I boot up my computer pull up a remote computer compromised by my custom botnet and substantiate a dozen different random VPN bounces across the world to send an email to the League member's non-public emails with an 'I told you so'. Petty, maybe, but maybe next time they'll listen. I mean, come on Superman has x-ray vision. It's an easy check. Who would even know?
I distract myself by watching a boy-band interview and a training film for a new limb replacement surgery. Two of the members are hooked on some type of amphetamine though still in the early stages of addiction. The last member is thinking about dissolving the band and going solo. He jokes around with the interviewer, a middle-aged former singer who is flirting with him. The doctor in the training film is sufficiently competent, but I can see several improvements that would make the nerve conduction for the artificial limb feel more real to the recipient and give better biofeedback. I scribble down a few notes. I'll send them out to the surgeon later in the week. Yet another screen shows a commercial for the new Lexpert Pro 5600 computer system from Lexcorp. The fastest computer on the market for the money, filled with enough spyware to choke out any antivirus. It also makes them easier to compromise if you know how to circumvent the spyware. My illicit botnet runs on the back of Lexcorp's own software, so it's a good thing the Lexpert series has the memory and processing power to support all the overhead.
My brain finally catches up to some stuff I had been noodling over in the background of my mind. Oh crap! I run to another corkboard I've been using to tracking suspicious abductions worldwide. There were a few that fit this specific profile; all starting around the time Secretary General Tseng began acting _different_. I walk over the board, not that I needed to; my memory is perfect. The instances of abductions that fit the pattern aren't as minor as I originally thought. There are dozens of reports in the States alone, hundreds across the world in the previous four months. Many of the abductions happen simultaneously in different areas of the world. This wasn't an alien taking the place of the Secretary General of the UN. This is a freakin' alien invasion. Dammit! G. Gordon Godfrey is right!
I feel like I should alert the press or the President or something. Do they already know? The Justice League has to, right? Surely, they would have to know if we're being invaded. I turn on a dozen televisions and tune them all to different news channels. They are talking about Tseng, but not the bigger issue. The Justice League isn't taking any interviews about it. If they televised something, I would at least be able to have some body language to go on, what they are thinking; what their plan of action might be, something.
I need to bring in some more brains on this. The problem with that is that most of the big brains in the world are either heroes or villains and I'd rather not draw attention from either. There is one person I could reach out to. I haven't spoken to him in almost five years; I have his emergency contact, maybe. If he isn't in jail. If he still maintains the number. He may have some information, if he isn't in on it. There's no way I'm calling him from my base of operations.
I grab a burner phone and sim card from a drawer on my way out. I blink as I walk out the door. Yup, that's the sun; I usually don't bother to keep track of time anymore since I don't have a schedule to keep. I make sure the door is locked then walk to the monorail.
I pay cash for a fresh rail card - making sure to hold it by the edges so I won't leave any fingerprints and only minimal chemically altered DNA, scan it through, then drop it on the tracks before getting on the train as it arrives. I ride to the Wayne Tower stop and buy a new card with cash before exiting. Neat trick. If a card isn't scanned in, it will still let you out; it just charges you the maximum fare. I drop that card in the street before going into a bathroom in a small coffee shop. I reverse my jacket then put on a pair of large sunglasses and a Gotham Knights cap. I buy a cup of coffee on my way out and give it and a twenty to a guy begging out front. I buy another card, scan through, and leave it on top of a pay phone. I take the K street line to the end and walk to the edge of the platform.
It's mostly deserted; just a homeless man lying on a bench. I look around and hop off the edge of the platform and walk around to the back of a storage area. I put the sim card in the phone and power it on. After a moment the phone is ready; I dial the number from memory. I wait three rings before hanging up; dialing the same number again. two rings, I hang up again. The third time he answers before the first ring is even finished.
"Gray, is that you?" I hear Edward Nigma's voice for the first time in five years. He sounds hopeful, especially since I told him I was done with him years ago when he chose to go back to a life of crime.
"Yeah, Edward," I reply. "I need to use your brain for a little bit, can you talk?"
He pauses for just a moment, then responded, "Sure, are you still in Gotham?"
It was all there in the tremor of his voice, plus my enhanced ears hear when he tells someone to trace the call, even with his hand over the microphone. He wouldn't need to trace the call if it wasn't for nefarious reasons.
"Ed, what are you mixed up in?" I ask. I really don't expect him to tell me. This call was a bad idea. Well, I can at least try to get some information.
I hear his sudden intake of breath. He knows the time for pretense is over.
"Gray, you need to let me come get you," he says. "I can protect you. You can be on the winning side here."
"Tell me you're not mixed up in that UN thing."
"No, Gray," he replies and after a short tick. "I've got nothing to do with that."
"What the hell, Eddie," I say a little too loud, recognizing the half-truth. He is working something related, but from a different angle. "This is not going to end well for you," I finish with a growl. "What's the plan, world conquest?" I guess.
Another hitch in his breath tells me what I need to know.
"Listen, Gray," he tries again. "If you just come in and do a little project with me everything will be okay. We can all win."
"Who's going to lose, Eddie," I manage to growl out. "Everyone else in the world. Tell me you aren't mixed up with another group of villains." His breath hitches, but he remains silent. "At least tell me you aren't mixed up with all those kidnappings," I say, struggling now to keep from snapping at him. Another hitched breath. "So, you're working with another group of aliens," I state. This time his gasp would be audible to anyone with normal hearing.
Without another word, I disconnect and power down the phone. I walk further away from the platform while removing the sim card and twisting the phone apart. I drop an acid capsule on the card to make sure it's completely destroyed before scrambling over the fence. I walk down the incline and hail a taxi.
"Where ya goin?" the cabbie asks as I get in.
"Wayne Tower," I reply, handing him five twenties. "Off the meter. Take the east route"
"Whatever, lady," comes the reply. Cabbies in Gotham are the best. They know how to take a bribe and keep everything under the radar.
I reverse my jacket in the cab and remove my cap. I leave the sunglasses on. The cabbie cuts through Arkham Island and I have him let me off at Gotham University right as the four fifty-five classes let out. I lose myself in the crowd of people all suitably like me, blonde, sunglasses, forgettable. I remove the sunglasses as I go, dumping them in a garbage can before walking into the university library. I take my hair out of the ponytail and shake it out a little, allowing it to spring back to its normal curly volume while losing my jacket and cap in another trashcan. I let myself out a fire exit that has the alarm disabled to allow the staff to step out for a smoke.
I tuck in my t-shirt, pulling it down in the front to enhance the view of my cleavage. I grab a bus, using cash; flirting with a couple of workmen during the ride. Both are married, they're no more serious about the flirting than I am. Anyone looking would think we were all together. I get off the bus at their stop, then walk the opposite direction after the bus drives away. I take a circuitous foot route back to my place. I finally breathe a sigh of relief as I twist the lock and throw the deadbolt.
Dammit Eddie. There's no way I will be able to trace him now. He's too smart for that. No doubt his sim card is already shredded too. Dammit Eddie.