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World Without Wonder By Josephine Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor am
I making any money from this work. Rating: Probably R by the time I’m done. Right
now, PG. Depends on how this story comes out. Anyone out there besides me write these disclaimers and crap BEFORE writing the story?
Universe: Elseworlds. Chapter 1: Finding Diana "She needs to be taken out of power,"
Batman said. Superman continued his monitoring, not bothering to answer.
Batman stared at his back, frustrated, angry. "She is using her strength
unchecked, Clark finally turned away from Fortress’s giant
television wall display, but Batman could tell that he was still listening to
the broadcasts--thousands of them, perhaps tens of thousands at a time from
around the world. "Has she killed anyone?" Superman said. Batman tightened his jaw. Those simple words let
him know that "The heads of each nation have disappeared.
We know that she has taken them, but whether they are alive or dead is
anyone’s guess." "What do you think?" "Dead." Batman didn’t hesitate.
"She has shown a desire for power, and in most cases, greed for power is
not tempered by respect for human life. She wouldn’t want to take the risk
that they remain alive and somehow fight back against her." No tyrant
wanted his predecessors left alive. Life meant hope, and from what Batman had
seen of the woman, she intended to squash hope, squash free will. "It is
possible that she is keeping them alive for bargaining purposes, but
considering her level of power, she doesn’t need live humans to bargain with.
She can bargain with her fists." Superman looked at his own hands. "Why
me?" "You are the only one left at her power
level. If the rest of us tried, it would take a coordinated effort, but the
risk is still too high, because we don’t know exactly of what she is capable.
High casualties would be possible," Batman said. "And we can’t
afford any more of those. You alone could subdue her, with tactical backup
from the rest of us." Superman was shaking his head. "I don’t
think so, Bruce. From what I’ve heard on the newsfeeds,
she hasn’t killed anyone. She fights armies without casualties, simply
destroying their equipment. She demands that they obey, takes over the
country by might, but that is what the previous leaders did. She is another
military dictator, but except for declaring that they are not to make war
upon one another, she has not changed nor wanted anything from them." He
turned back to his monitors. "It is not my place to get involved." "You used to involve yourself," Batman
said. "You used to care that someone would use their metahuman
powers to control others." "I care," Superman said. "But it
is not my responsibility. Accidents, natural disasters--those I can get
involved in because there are no shades of gray. How do I know that this
woman isn’t wrong? She has effectively stopped wars between seven nations. It
is not my place to judge her actions, to decide what is truth and
justice." He tilted his head. "There is a fire alarm in He was gone in a blast of wind, and Batman
clenched his fists to keep from punching something. Superman’s fortress was
cold, like his own cave, but well lit and filled with beautiful artifacts. Too bad, Batman thought as he readied his jet,
that its occupant no longer reflected the fortress. *** He wasn’t going to endanger the others. They had
gone through too much of late to lose more friends now, and Batman was
determined not to fail, so they would not lose him, either. He had analyzed the woman’s attack pattern --
Diana, she called herself -- and found an important flaw: whenever the
opposition used gases, such as nerve or poisonous gases, she wore a mask. An
invisible, tiny breathing mask. She seemed to have a remarkable ability to
process poisons, and to heal quickly, but knowing that she was vulnerable to
airborne attacks gave him an edge. So did knowing where she retreated between
takeovers. He would never have known about the breathing
mask until his computer had analyzed the air currents and patterns around her
as she fought, and the computer had also allowed him to track her when she
left. He knew that the governments of the world had failed at finding her
hiding spot, because she had taken a different flight route each time, then disappeared suddenly off any radar. That signified
some type of cloaking device, but Batman hadn’t been able to pin it down
until he’d considered the idea that the cloak wasn’t technical in nature, but
magical. It hadn’t taken him long to, with Zatanna’s help, develop a device that sensed the woman’s
specific signature, and incorporate that into his search. And now he hovered over the island. He’d set the
jet to stealth mode, so that it would be invisible visually and audibly. He
checked the compartments in his belt methodically, examined the mechanism on
the gas deploying grenade, then secured his
parachute. He flipped the jet’s setting to remote control, and jumped out
into the air. His jet’s sensors hadn’t been able to get a
topographical reading of the island -- it was hidden from any technological
radar or laser scanning equipment -- but Batman was able to see the layout
with his infrared glasses. Sandy beaches, forests, and gentle, sloping hills
made up the southern end, whereas the northern end peaked with granite
mountains, sudden cliffs and high grasslands. Even through the reddish tinge
of the IR lenses, he could tell that the island was indescribably beautiful.
As he drifted closer, he could make out the temples that dotted the island,
the statues and courtyards. All, he noticed, run down and broken, as if they
had been abandoned years before after a massive cataclysm. His IR lenses
picked up some movement -- animal, he realized quickly, before he noticed a
heat signature resembling a human form in one of the temples. He landed a couple of hundred yards from it. He dated the architecture from She kneeled in front of a large statue, dressed
in a simple white toga, not the red, white and blue uniform that had had
nations in uproar, blaming the A goddess of war. He adjusted a receiver on his cowl so that he
could hear her, then had to bite back a curse when
he realized she was speaking in Greek. He didn’t dare give the audio command
for his computer to translate the language, considered typing it into his
gauntlet keypad, then finally decided to get the job
done quickly. He brought the grenade launcher around quietly.
He’d filled the canister with enough tranquilizer gas to knock even Superman
out within seconds. He aimed, fired, and she disappeared between the time he
squeezed the trigger and the canister exploded a foot from where she’d been
kneeling. "You thought that I would automatically
block the grenade with my bracelets, and the gas would explode in my
face," she said in English from behind him. Her voice was musical and
slightly accented. It also betrayed amusement. Batman considered his escape options. He didn’t
see any that looked good, so he bided his time, turned to answer her,
crouching on the roof of the temple. "Yes," he said. He had tiny
gas canisters in his belt. Backup plan number one of thirty seven. "You have studied my weaknesses, then?"
She smiled, and in other circumstances he would have sworn it was genuine.
But he was too familiar with the Joker and other villains who smiled as they
doled out pain to put any faith in her expression. She floated two yards from him, her toga and hair
waving softly in the slight breeze. She was easily the most beautiful person
he’d ever seen, and he wondered if she knew it, if she would try to use that
against him. Wondered how much of her power, her beauty, was corrupted. When he didn’t answer, she continued, "I
have been wondering when I would be found out. I do not underestimate the
resources of Patriarch’s World." He noted her use of the term ‘Patriarch’s World’,
searched his mind for Greek myths and stories that hinted at a matriarchal
society, women warriors. Amazons. He kept that information to himself, said, "You underestimate us if you think
that we will sit by as you bring nation after nation under your rule." Her smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful
expression. "I do not intend to rule those nations. Just bring them out
from under the thumb of war. I thought that I made that clear." "To whom?" "To the people of Patriarch’s World."
She stepped onto the roof, sat down facing him, her legs folded under her.
"I told them exactly that -- that they were not to continue their wars
upon each other, and that I would destroy their capability to do so. Please
do not attempt to use the items in your belt on me, Batman." He didn’t betray his surprise that she had
detected his sleight of hand. He’d pulled that trick on Superman
successfully. "You know who I am." She nodded. "I spent time in Patriarch’s
World, researching." "Researching what?" She smiled again. "Everything I could." By using the hyperbole ‘everything’, she allowed
herself to keep from saying exactly what the bent of her studies had been,
but he could guess. Languages, obviously, he thought. Probably studied him
and other heroes as possible opposition to her mission. Politics, history,
leaders. Weapons capabilities, technology. He pretended to relax slightly, easing back from
a crouch to a sit. She didn’t seem to have immediate plans to attack him, but
wanted to talk, instead. Typical, he thought, of megalomaniacs, who were so enamoured of their mission or purpose that they eagerly
tried to explain their viewpoint to anyone who would listen, would try to
convince them they were right. He would lull her into complacency by listening
to her spout whatever rhetoric that she thought justified herself, then take
her out with whatever means available. Backup plan number twenty eight of
thirty seven. "What of my weaknesses did you learn?"
she asked. "I’d be a fool to tell you," he said
honestly. A fool, because he hadn’t found many. Let her worry and imagine
that he knew more. "Yes, you would." She looked at him
carefully. "I watched you in "I’ve analyzed your fighting style. I’ve
already ascertained that." How much had she seen in She nodded. "Of course you would have. I can
be shot or stabbed; I’m not invulnerable like Superman." He frowned. Why was she telling him this? "I
know that, as well. I’ve seen the injuries from shrapnel that you couldn’t
dodge or block with your bracelets." "You obviously know of my susceptibility to
gases and poisons. Although I do process the latter very quickly," she
added. And he suddenly knew why she was telling him her
weaknesses -- it was because, considering her strengths, they were almost
negligible. Though she was not as accomplished as he at fighting, she was one
of the best he’d ever seen, and given her strength and speed that skill
difference was not an advantage for him. She wasn’t invulnerable, but she had
managed to fight against the best weapons technology and soldiers several
nations had to offer without being seriously injured, and at the same time
had not killed any of those she’d fought against. And she was aware of what
he contained in his belt -- more gases. She probably had some kind of
elevated senses, either sight, or smell or hearing. Maybe all three, which
made sneaking up on her or secretly adding something to food or drink without
detection unlikely. She listed her small list of weaknesses, and he
was aware--and so was she--that he didn’t know all of her powers. Just how
strong was she? "And I have to sleep," she said.
"I suppose you could attack me then." "Would it work?" She tilted her head, looked at him through clear,
blue eyes. "Perhaps. I have not been attacked in my sleep in years. My
reflexes may be soft." She leaned back against the gently sloping look,
staring up at the stars. The gesture was clear to Batman: I do not fear you,
her posture said. "What would you have done with me, if you had managed to
gas me?" she said curiously. "The JLA has a containment unit for metahumans." "Would I have been rehabilitated?" She
grinned at that, as if it amused her. "Simply imprisoned for life?" "There are tribunals in place to try, and if
necessary, pass judgement on metahumans
who overstep their bounds." She rolled onto her side, propping up her head
with her hand, her elbow against the roof. Her eyes bored into his. "Do
you think that I have overstepped them? You are a vigilante yourself." He remained silent. He was not as she was; he
sought justice, not blind obeyance. But he could
not figure her out, did not want to say something that would generate a
violent reaction, so he didn’t argue. She sighed when he didn’t answer, pushed herself
up onto her feet, gazing out over the island, her expression a mixture of
sadness and hope. His leg swung out, caught her behind her knee and she fell
backwards before she could catch herself. She looked at him in surprise,
began laughing. Then the tranquilizer from the tiny dart attached to his boot
flooded her system, and she passed out. Backup plan number two of thirty seven. *** "Weakness number one," she said
wearily, "Arrogance." She looked through the glass at Batman, and
attempted a sneer. "Your weakness, too. If that dart had not been
successful, I could have torn you apart." "You wouldn’t have." His voice was
confident. She admired his certainty, his instinct. They
were valuable in a warrior. She hid her admiration, forced a half-hearted
glare. "I could have processed the poison quickly, woken while you were
flying me here." "You started to. I had the jet monitor your
vitals, administer another dose when you showed signs of waking." Batman
paused. "You’ve released the heads of state." "I sent the signal when I realized what you
had done," Diana said. "I do not want them to starve in my
absence." Batman frowned. "To whom did you send the
signal? How?" "To ‘what’, not ‘whom’, Batman." Diana
turned over in the narrow cot, her back to the man in the dark cape and cowl.
"I do not choose to answer more questions," she said. *** She was planning something. He had the feeling he
had played directly into her hands, somehow, even down to being captured and
taken to the Watchtower hold. He also had the feeling that everything that she
had told him was the truth. Yet how much more truth was she withholding from
him? Superman was in the Watchtower’s monitor room,
watching Diana onscreen. "To what do we owe this honor,
Superman?" Batman couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. It was lost on Clark, who nodded at the screen.
"I wanted to see her in person." Batman looked at Diana, tried to see her as
Superman might: her strength, her incredible beauty, her intelligence. Under
other circumstances--if "I used to imagine someone like her,
once," He didn’t continue, but Batman could fill in the
silence. It was one of the reasons Superman hadn’t committed himself to
Lois--that hope of a woman like him existing somewhere in the world. "You wouldn’t be friends with this one,
Clark. She’s not on our side." He watched as Diana stood up from her
cot, ran her hands over the magnetically sealed walls, looking for a way out.
He felt as well as saw the force of the massive punch she used to try to
overwhelm the seals, but they held, absorbing the impact. "It was too easy
to capture her. She released those leaders immediately--although I’m not sure
how. It’s as if taking over those countries was just a preliminary, a
distraction for her real plan." He looked at Superman, knew he shouldn’t
bother asking, but tried anyway. "I’m going back to her island to look
for clues. Care to join me?" He saw the flash of interest in Superman’s eyes
before they dulled, and the former leader of the JLA said, "No. I need
to stay online. There’s a volcano warning in effect in--" "I know," Batman interrupted. He
decided not to press the issue; Superman’s presence, his curiosity about
Diana was more emotion than he’d shown in over a year. Batman would take his victories where he could
get them. *** It took him no effort to track down the island,
although it wasn’t where he had left it. The invisible, unbreakable dome
surrounding it was new, though. He returned to the Watchtower when he realized he
would have no access through it. Diana was running through a series of exercises,
some he recognized, some he decided were modifications of ancient martial
arts. "You must have found the dome, if your
frustrated expression is any indication," she said as she moved
gracefully through the form. He knew his face had betrayed nothing of his
thoughts; either she had anticipated his returning to the island and somehow
knew that he had been there, or she was taking a guess. He instinctively felt it was the former.
"This was never about those nations, was it? What are you planning,
Diana?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye,
never hesitating in her slow movements. "You are wrong. Those nations
are important to me. My intentions there were to stop the wars, to give
people something to focus on fighting besides each other. They turned their guns
away from their neighbors and pointed them at me, worked to fight me."
She came to the end of a form, stopped and turned to look at him. "And
on the island, I gave the leaders the same opportunity. They focused on
helping each other, trying to escape rather than on hating each other." "You expected this to be a solution?"
Batman shook his head incredulously. Diana chuckled. "Of course not. I am not
that naive. But I had hoped that it would give them a model to work from--to
work together from. Perhaps in a few more months they would have had more
camaraderie than hate to remember each other by. And in the meantime I
removed some of their weapons capabilities." "To what end?" Batman pressed. "So
that they would not have the ability to resist you in the future?’ She laughed, and he found himself for a moment
wanting to believe in that laugh, believe that it was good hearted and not
bent on tyranny. "They did not have that ability to resist me, as you
put it, when they had their weapons. I just thought that they were resorting
to fighting, rather than negotiating, too quickly. And in some cases, the
fighting had been going on so long that negotiation was no longer an option.
And my ‘end’ was to stop wars. I have my reasons to want peace." She
paused, eyed him carefully. "You are determined to make a villain out of
me, Batman. Why?" "You expected to be treated as a
villain," he returned. "Why?" "I knew that what I was doing was unpopular
with the JLA and the world." She took a step toward the glass that
separated them, the force field that protected the glass. "And when one
of the JLA sneaks onto my island uninvited with a gas grenade launcher, I can
assume that he was not there as a recruiter." "Your methods would never be accepted in the
JLA, Diana." She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Even
though my ideals are admirable? I know that. And under different
circumstances, I would have approached the JLA, asked them for guidance,
asked to be made one of you, followed your
rules." "What circumstances?" She looked away from him. "I have a mission
more important than peace, Batman. One that the JLA will fight me for, should
they realize my intentions. Had I come to you before, you would have all been
my friends." She took a deep breath. "So it has to be this way. I
will never betray a friend." "But you will an enemy?" He took a step
forward, said fiercely, "I will find out what you are planning, Diana.
And I--the JLA--will stop you." "You can try, but you will not,
Batman," she said as he strode away. *** He analyzed the marble chips that had become
imbedded in the soles of his boots, the grass, the
dirt of her island. The energy signature residue made him come to one
conclusion: Darkseid had been on her island. But
had he been friend to Diana, or foe? Was her plan something she had created
in league with the dark god, or in retaliation for something, or wholly
unrelated to Darkseid’s presence? He leaned back in his chair, stared up at the
cave’s ceiling as if he could find an answer in its heights. Beside him, Alfred set a platter down with a
flourish. "Simple fare tonight, Master Bruce. Roast duck with butter
cream, filet mignon, and chocolate pudding." Bruce looked down at the plate,
saw the bowl of oatmeal. "Thank you, Alfred," he said. Alfred raised an eyebrow. "If I had known a
food shortage was what it took for you to say ‘thank you’ for oatmeal instead
of one of your long-suffering stares, I would have arranged one long ago,
Master Bruce." "It’s not my favorite, Alfred," Bruce
acknowledged, and took a small bite. "But you manage to make it taste
amazingly good." And it did. Alfred sniffed. "But of course. Despite your
generous donation of the Manor’s food stores to the citizens of Bruce focused on the gentleman’s gentleman.
Alfred was doing his best--which was splendidly--considering their
circumstances, but Bruce couldn’t miss the slight weight loss, the tiredness
around Alfred’s eyes. "Just make sure that you have enough,
Alfred." Alfred nodded once, and Bruce reminded himself to
eat with his butler more often, to be certain that the older man followed his
instructions. Bruce knew Alfred would forego his own meal to feed him. "I manage, sir." Bruce stared back up at the monitor, at the
results of the material tests from the island. "I find that I have
become a counselor, of sorts, for metahumans,
Alfred." "Indeed, sir?" "Superman, as you know, retreated from any
politically charged arena after the war. Now he only responds to accidents,
natural or otherwise. Not much else." Bruce paused, Alfred waited.
"But today, he actually came to the Watchtower to see the woman we’ve
captured--Diana, who was fashioning herself as the next Napoleon in the
Middle East and "Still, the curiosity was something,
sir." "Exactly, Alfred. And now I’m racking my
brain, trying to figure out a way to interest him again." "Perhaps using this woman?" Bruce shook his head. "I don’t know. Diana
is another problem. She’s...On one hand, I think that she would lay down her
life to save one person, but on the other, I am afraid she might be willing
to sacrifice the world for her own goals. And I have no idea what those goals
are." "And again your role as counselor came up,
Master Bruce? Did you attempt to sway her to your side, as it may be?" "No." Although he would give just about
anything, he thought, to have someone like her on ‘his side’. Since the war,
the world had been hungry for superheroes, but so many had died, and Superman
had withdrawn...and now Diana had shown up like a gleaming star, only to
destroy and demand. For what purpose, though? What would she have betrayed
them for, if she had become a friend rather than an enemy? He sat up
straighter, looked at Alfred. "What do you think it would take to befriend
an Amazon, Alfred?" Alfred blinked. "For you, sir?" "Yes." Bruce stood, paced. "She
said that she wouldn’t betray a friend; and for some reason, I believe her.
She’s been nothing but honest. What if I, somehow, became that friend?" Alfred coughed delicately. "It might be
easier for another member of the JLA to attempt that, sir. Perhaps one of the
women, if this is an Amazon. She might respond to someone who approached her
as a sister." Bruce narrowed his eyes, amused. "Are you
saying that you think I can not make a friend, Alfred?" The corners of Alfred’s mouth tightened, as
though he was fighting a smile. "Not at all, Master Bruce. Since the
war, you’ve shown yourself in both your public and private personas to be
more approachable, especially as leader of the JLA and the new defender of
truth, justice and--" "It’s not a role that I particularly like,
Alfred. But it is a necessary one," Bruce interrupted. "Of course, sir," Alfred said soberly,
but his eyes sparkled with humor. "But as I was saying, your kinder, gentler personality--" he ignored
Bruce’s glare "--lends itself very well to friend making. Even with
Amazons. But a woman might be better suited to the task. Or anyone else in
the JLA," he added. "Because your personality is still not warmth
and light." "Nor should it be, Alfred. A laughing, happy
Bat is a dead Bat." "I’ll have that line stitched into your
uniform, sir." "Do that," Bruce said absently. He
switched the monitor screen to show the feed from the Watchtower, where Diana
was sitting on her floor, stretching. "I can’t let someone else try
this, Alfred. I trust them, but she..." She turned suddenly, looked
directly at the camera. He knew she couldn’t see him, but it was as if she
knew he was watching. "...she’s dangerous. Not just her strength and her
powers--of which we know entirely too little--but she’s intelligent,
beautiful...she makes you want to trust her. She makes you want to smile and
laugh." "A dangerous idea, indeed, Master
Bruce." "It is when you know she’s on a mission,
Alfred. A mission that she’ll carry out, whether you are smiling or
not." "If I may say so, Master Bruce, then perhaps
you are the best person to befriend her, after all." "Why is that, Alfred?" "Because if there is one thing that you
understand, sir, it is someone with a mission. A mission that must be
fulfilled, no matter the personal sacrifice, or the sacrifice of those
closest to you." Bruce nodded. "And that is what I will
appeal to with her," he said. Alfred said, "I do not envy you the task,
sir." Onscreen, Diana looked at them, her eyes wide and clear of
calculations, betrayal and death. "Then again, maybe I do," he said
with a tiny smile, standing up--impossibly, it seemed--a little straighter. Bruce took another bite of oatmeal, and planned. *** He entered the room, put up a privacy screen. Her
body was relaxed, but her eyes watched his every move. He set the tray of
food down on the table, slid it toward her, then sat
in the chair opposite hers. "Two of the nations have signed peace
treaties, Diana," he said. Her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners in a
tiny smile, but otherwise her face remained expressionless. "Your trial is set for a month from now.
Your representation will arrive within a day or two, so that you can prepare
your defense." "I do not require representation,
Batman." "You intend to be gone, to have carried out
your mission, before then?" She nodded, her eyes never leaving his.
"Yes." "How do you intend to escape?" A short burst of laughter from her. "Be
serious, Batman," she said with real humor. He leaned forward. "I am." His voice
was gravelly. "You tell me your weaknesses, that
you plan to escape though you don’t give details, that you have a mission to
fulfill. I am beginning to believe that you tell these things because you
want the JLA to find a way to stop you. Otherwise, why the honesty? It does
not serve you." "It does not hurt me either. And I do not
want to be stopped, despite what you interpret from my actions." She
tilted her head, added curiously, "Why are you in here without
protection?" "Why aren’t you attacking me, trying to use
this opportunity to escape?" he countered. She didn’t answer, and he
knew they were at an impasse -- unless he gave in. "I am not
unprotected, Diana. I am being monitored, and should my vitals change
significantly, this chamber will be flooded with gas. I can also activate
that safeguard manually. And I am not without my own resources." "Like a tranquilizer in your boot." "To start," he said. She frowned thoughtfully. "But you know that
I could kill you before you had a chance to react. So again, the questions begs itself, why are you in here without
protection?" His voice was soft, confident. "Because I
don’t think you would hurt or kill me." Her eyes narrowed. "I could prove you wrong
now, but that sort of intimidation is your style, not mine. But do not be
fooled, Batman, I have killed before, and I will again. I will again,"
she repeated, almost as a prayer, and Bruce locked onto the words, even as he
realized she was closing herself off from him, wanted him to leave. He stood, and she pushed the tray of food back to
him. "I do not eat as often as most humans. Please give this to someone
who needs it more." She hesitated, then added,
"I have also arranged for a delivery of food from the island. Since I
can not oversee its distribution, can I trust you to take care of it?" "Yes," he said, disbelieving that she
threatened him one minute, offered charity the next. "Where?" "It will be delivered to He nodded, keyed the security pad, and left. *** The food was delivered on an invisible barge. Not
completely invisible, Bruce realized; he could see the faint outlines of it
when the sun’s rays struck it correctly. Probably the same material as the
dome which protected her island. He wondered how much of it existed, and how
she controlled it. Did she have help on the island, or elsewhere? Did she
control it telepathically? To what extent did it morph? What powered it? "The initial scans indicate that it is
clean, Bruce," Oracle said from the tiny receiver in his ear.
"She’s got oranges," she added. Bruce smiled at Barbara’s reverent tone. Citrus
had become as scarce as meat and dairy. "I’ll save you one. Do you have
the trucking schedule set up?" "Mmm hmm. These
babies are on their way across "Yes, there is," Bruce said thoughtfully.
How much did that island produce? *** "It is gifted by Demeter herself to be
eternally and constantly abundant," Diana said. "I’ve been
continually shipping out the crop, but I’m afraid it hardly makes a dent in
the problem." "I had wondered where some of the produce
coming in now and again was from." Bruce watched as she peeled an orange
with barely concealed hunger. She had been lying, he realized instinctively,
when she said she didn’t need to eat as often as a normal human. No, he thought,
she hadn’t lied--exactly. She had said that she didn’t eat as
often, not that she didn’t need to eat as often. And perhaps,
given her strength, she didn’t feel the effects of hunger as strongly as
normal humans. "I had assumed that the supplier was making a killing in
profits from their crop, and I had tried to discover who they were so that I
could...persuade them to provide their goods more cheaply, but all the time
it had been for free." He paused. "When you are gone, fulfilling
your mission, will someone take over your food supply?" She froze with an orange section halfway to her
mouth, lowered it. "There is no one to do so," she said slowly. "Will you return?" he pressed, realized
he had gained an advantage. "I don’t know." "You think you may die," he said
flatly. "Yes." She met his gaze, her eyes
unafraid, direct. He ignored the clenching in his gut at the
thought, said, "People have come to depend on that supply, Diana." He saw her waver, then the resolution form in her
eyes. "I can show you." It wasn’t the answer he had hoped for, but it was
a start. *** She dug her toes into the sand, closing her eyes,
feeling the sun and the perfumed breeze across her face, the scent a mixture
of ocean and Themyscira. Gods, she missed her home,
and she’d been away only a few days. It was always like this: she wouldn’t
realize how much she yearned for the island until she returned to it. And now
that this might be one of the last times she returned to it, that yearning
hit her harder than before. No, she said to herself, I will
not fail. I will return. She turned to Batman, who was gathering a sample
of sand. And when I return, I will face whatever consequences seem
fitting. She realized that he probably thought her being
on the island would make her less likely to go, that being around familiar
things would make her hesitate, would change her mind. He couldn’t know that
the island only strengthened her resolve: the beaches, the temples falling
into rubble, the pristine forests. The island was made for the Amazons, and
it had been taken from all of them. Except for Diana. Batman clicked a compartment on his belt shut,
looked up at her. "Alright, Diana, let’s go to your orchards." It took only a moment for an invisible chariot to
arrive, floating toward them, horseless and wheelless.
She stepped aboard, and motioned for him to do the same. "I control this
technology by telepathy. It can morph into nearly any shape that I
choose." She paused. "Or whatever shape you choose, once I have
transferred control of it to you." Batman got on, his expression displaying barely
concealed distaste. "Can this be done without use of
this...device?" "Yes, but it would hardly be as
efficient." Diana glanced at him, wondering how much to add. There was a
chance that she would return with other Amazons, and they would want to
re-inhabit the island. She finally said, "And I prefer that it be done
this way. I do not like the idea of the island being surrounded by barges and
the produce picked by strangers." "It could provide badly needed employment,"
Batman pointed out. "It is my island, Batman," she said
sharply. She hated that he was right, that she sounded unreasonable and
uncaring. "I say it must be done with the Lansinarian
technology. If it is the idea of being connected telepathically to it that
bothers you, then say so and I will find another to harvest the
orchards." He drew his lips into a thin line. "You
might be, by your own admission, dead. What do you care of the island?" A ghost of a smile hovered over her mouth.
"I do not intend to die, Batman. I’ve just said that it is a
possibility." She stopped the chariot suddenly, floating a couple of
hundred yards above a small building. "If you will excuse me, I am going
to change my clothing." She jumped over the side, leaving him staring
after her. *** Lansinarian
technology. Amazons. Darkseid. An island that she wanted kept free of outsiders,
and island that had obviously been under attack a decade or so previously. A secret mission, of which she thought the JLA
would disapprove and try to stop her. An obvious desire to help Earth, but she hadn’t
been around months ago when the war had been taking the lives of heroes left
and right. She had only shown up afterwards. Where had she been? Was it the war that had given
her reason to show herself, or had something happened afterwards that had
prompted her actions? He tried to get a scraping of the invisible
chariot’s material, but it flowed and changed under his small knife. Who were
the Lansinarians? Were they in league with Diana,
or was this stolen from them? He didn’t want it connected to him
telepathically, he was sure of that. She returned within minutes to the chariot,
dressed in the uniform that she had worn when taking over governments,
fighting their armies: the knee high red boots, the star-spangled briefs and
red bustier. "Why do you wear American colors?" She attached a coil of golden rope to her belt;
he had seen her use the rope before, as a lasso, and wondered about it as a
choice of weapon. "They are also, I suppose, French colors," she
smiled. "The star pattern?" Her smile faded, and she turned to face the front
of the chariot as they started moving again. She firmed her lips, glancing at
him as if undecided about something, then spoke. "I do not know why I would tell you
this..." She tilted her head, gave him a considering look. "But I
suppose I should tell someone, just in case I do not return. There is no
reason for Amazons to fade completely from human memory, and this tale
connects them to the rest of the world, albeit briefly." She pointed to
one of the temples in the distance. "That used to be the site of a
doorway to another dimension filled with the monsters of Tartarus.
Long ago, my mother and the rest of the Themyscirian
Amazons were put in charge of guarding it, to ensure that nothing broke free
into this realm." She crossed her arms, her
eyes took on a faraway look. "During a war on Man’s World--the one you
call World War II--an American female pilot crashed on Themyscira,
at the very time that the doorway the Amazons guarded broke. She
inadvertently saved us all, dying in the process. Her name was Diana
Trevor." She stopped her recitation. They had reached the orchards, and
the chariot glided softly to the ground. "You were named for her?" Batman said,
observing the bustling orchards, the invisible pickers that gathered and
arranged the fruit. He had to admit that her Lansinarian
technology was much faster than humans or harvesting machines could currently
work. "Yes. And the Amazons, out of respect for
her sacrifice, made her symbol our own, incorporating the flag design into
the armor of the Amazon champion." "You." Diana shook her head. "Perhaps that is what
would have happened. I am a special child, created from clay by my mother and
gifted by the gods. Perhaps I would have become the champion if things had
gone differently." She drifted slowly off the ground, picking two
peaches, tossing one to him. "As it is, I am the champion by default. I
am the only Amazon left." He caught it, feeling the warmth of the
sun-ripened fruit through his glove. He tucked it inside a cape pocket;
Alfred would enjoy it. "What would have to be changed, for things to go
differently? What happened to the others?" "War," she said. She gave him a wry
glance, but her blue eyes were tired, sad. "It is what brought you here
to my island today, Batman. It is what will take me from it, perhaps forever.
And it is why I tried to stop those countries from making war on one another,
believe it or not." "Do you intend to make war on someone,
Diana?" Was that her mission? A small, weary laugh escaped her, rolling between
the fragrant trees. "No, I intend to put an end to one." She
sighed, and added softly, "Finally, an end to one that started years
ago." *** He hadn’t been able to get anything more out of
her; instead, she had focused on the crop, explaining the rotation, the
irrigation, the harvesting. He had recorded the information, half his mind
occupied with the questions burning on the tip of his tongue--questions
aroused by her story. "What do you know of Amazons, Alfred?" "Not much more than you would find in your
databases, sir." Alfred nodded toward the screen Bruce had pulled up, a
compilation of quotes, stories and references from ancient texts. "They mention a race of warrior women, who
were defeated by Hercules," Bruce said. He leaned forward, tapped on a
few more keys. "Several other cultures have similar references, but
nothing concrete. They primarily indicate that the Amazons were men-hating,
war-mongering women who did not tolerate the presence of outsiders." "Does that fit the description of Diana,
sir?" Bruce frowned. "I would have said yes, at
one time. But I’ve seen no indication that Diana hates men, or anyone else,
except whomever she has her ‘mission’ against. She is of a warrior class, of
that I have no doubt--yet I would not hesitate to say that she has had
diplomatic training. Or that she is a member of an aristocracy." "Did she say when the Amazons disappeared
from the island, sir? Or where she was during our own war?" "No," Bruce said, his frown deepening.
This was another point that rubbed a raw nerve for him--where had she been?
Her Lansinarian technology, her own
powers would have been an enormous asset to Earth when it had been attacked.
He knew that although she obviously despised war, she wasn’t averse to
joining a battle when she saw the need. Why hadn’t Earth’s dilemma inspired
some action on her part? Did she care so little, or had there been other
circumstances that prevented her from helping? She would have had to have
been in another galaxy not to know that Earth was under attack-- He straightened suddenly, as a memory suddenly
surfaced, as a connection was made. "Computer, access
file Kyle Rayner, deceased." He fought
the tightening of his throat at the last word, continued, "Search file,
journal, Green Lantern Corps for references to Amazon, Diana, or female
matching description." The computer immediately found several
references, and Bruce began playing the first. Kyle’s visage came up onscreen, young, alive. A
tiny smile pushed up the corners of Bruce’s mouth as Kyle described a woman
into the recorder he had used on his journey through the galaxy. "Kyle Rayner,
Green Lantern. This is my third month--ah, let’s see, one hundred and twelve
Earth days have passed since I’ve been looking for people to join the Corps,
and there wasn’t much to report today, except that I finally met the woman
this side of the galaxy has been talking about. And talk about hot! I think
I’m in love. Legs up to her neck, black hair down, way down, gorgeous blue
eyes that I could live in. Hmm...I mean, very attractive and human looking.
At first I thought she was American, considering her bathing suit, but D’enlil assured me that isn’t the case. I didn’t get to
actually talk to her, but just looking was fine. I have no doubt why they’ve
been calling her Wonder Woman, though, after getting a look at her. D’enlil suggested approaching her about the Corps, but
she flew off before I made it to that side of the room. Will attempt to
contact later." Bruce stopped the playback, added an additional
instruction to search for the name Wonder Woman. The next file referencing
the woman was much shorter: "Wonder Woman left this solar system today,
missed chance to contact her." The next record showed a tired and soot covered
Kyle. "The crisis on Xed
En was finally contained today, no doubt in a large part thanks to Wonder
Woman. She appeared out of nowhere with her invisible fighters, and stopped
the invasion fleet cold. I saw her fighting up close, and she’s no slouch in
the powers department. Perhaps Superman level
strength, flight, and plenty of speed, although nothing like Wally.
Batman-like martial arts skills. Well, maybe not quite, but able to hold her
own easily in one-on-one. No wonder she’s a hero in these parts; nearly every
planet I’ve gone to has some story about her helping them out. She’s looking
for trouble, though, is what they say--trying to find a way to Darkseid. I spoke to her for a minute or two afterwards,
she doesn’t speak English but the translator worked well with whatever
language she spoke. She wanted to talk to me later about Earth, but we didn’t
get a chance." "Darkseid,"
Bruce muttered, and played the next recording. *** "You are Wonder Woman," he said
casually. She blinked rapidly, and Batman thought for a
moment that she would deny it. But she finally said, "That is what they
called me, in various languages." "Green Lantern mentioned you when he
returned from his recruitment drive." Diana’s face softened. "I remember him. We
spoke on various occasions. He offered me a position in the Green Lantern
Corps, but I refused him." "You told him that as tempting as it was, that
much power should not belong in the hands of someone seeking death." She
was sitting on the bed, so he grabbed a chair, turned it around, straddled it. He intended to be here awhile, getting
answers, one way or another. He was trying the friendly approach first. "Whose death are you seeking? Your own, or Darkseid’s? Or both?" She didn’t answer, so he added
cruelly, "Green Lantern is dead. He was killed in the war." "By an Imperiex
probe, I know," she said, voice soft. "I saw the news footage
afterwards. I heard about the war...but I got back to Earth, too late." "Did you come back for Earth, or for Darkseid, Diana?" Her eyes flashed fire at him. "For Earth, of
course. But you had already won, had already destroyed Imperiex,
driven Darkseid and his accursed planet back."
Her expression gentled. "And at great cost to yourselves,
for which I am sorry." "Tell me, Diana," he urged, sensing a
tiny break in her resolve, caused by regret. He used it. "Tell me what
you were searching for, all those years in space." She stood, turning away from him to stare out the
window into the corridor. She held herself rigidly, her hair brushing the
small of her back, vibrant and wavy, in direct opposition to her taut form
and posture. He could see her pensive reflection in the glass. "You
obviously already know that I was searching for Apokolips.
For Darkseid." She sighed, rubbed her arms as
if she were cold. "I won’t question how you know that; I knew you were a
formidable opponent from the start." A slight smile crossed her features,
but it quickly faded. "I was ten when a new race of Amazons was
transported by Circe to Themyscira. They were
descendants of my mother’s sister, Antiope, who had
left three thousand years ago to revenge herself on Herakles
for what they did to the Amazons. They called themselves the Bana-Mighdall, and there were tensions between the two
groups from the start--on which Circe undoubtedly had planned. Civil war
broke out between the two groups." She turned to Bruce, fingering her
lasso as if she found comfort in it, or as if the inactivity of the
containment cell burned within her. "Perhaps we would have been strong
enough to withstand Darkseid, if there hadn’t been
that civil war. I don’t know." She closed her eyes, continued. "We
had forged a tentative peace, had been working at it for about three years
when he appeared through his boom tube with his army. My mother--" Diana
swallowed with difficulty "--she let me fight at first, but when it
became apparent that the Amazons would be overwhelmed, she hid me, told me
that war was not for a child. Not even an Amazon child." She smiled a
little at that. "I would have fought to the death alongside my sisters,
my mother. It is the Amazon way; but mother--she loved me," she said
finally, by way of explanation. "I was a gift from the gods to her. She
told me that I would avenge them when I was older, and she hid me." Bruce thought of his mother and father,
protecting each other and him that night in the alley. He nodded. "Of course, she had to tie me with this--"
she rubbed her fingers over the lasso again. "And when I finally
struggled free, made my way out into the open, they were all gone, and there
was nothing left to fight. I could see some of the ashes where Darkseid’s beams had obliterated their bodies, and the
others I gathered up as best I could and gave them a proper burial." "And you promised yourself that you would
find Darkseid, kill him." "Of course I did." Diana took a step forward, leaned in close to his face. "It is not
unlike what you did, is it, Bruce?" He fought the urge to jump up, to deny the name.
Instead he calmly said, as if the name had no effect or meaning to him,
"Batman. And no, I never trained myself with the intent to kill. I never
want to be what I despise." "And you despise me? Good," she said
without waiting for him to answer. "Then you will not question yourself
and your judgement when I leave here, and do
exactly as I swore I would, fifteen years ago. You will not be
betrayed." "You realize that if you do leave here, and
make war upon Darkseid, he may retaliate on
Earth?" Bruce felt the anger rise in him at the thought. "Would you
be so selfish in your quest for revenge?" "Yes," Diana hissed. She leaned in
closer until he could feel her breath across the bottom half of his face, the
heat of her body. "Because, Bruce, the news footage revealed
something to me besides Green Lantern’s death. It showed Apokolips
as well. And on Apokolips, in chains, were several
hundred Amazons." She pulled back, went back to the window. "So you see, I have no choice. I did not know until
several months ago that some had survived, and were in slavery on his planet.
But now that I know, I have far more than revenge to fight for. I have to
fight for their freedom." She touched the window, and he heard the buzz
of the containment field burning against her skin. "And I am going to
kill Darkseid on my way out. Or die trying." *** "So she has revealed her intentions, but you
still have no idea how she will carry out her plan?" Superman said. Batman shook his head. "I am positive that
being held in the Watchtower was part of the plan, though. I captured her far
too easily, and it was almost as if she expected to be captured." "Perhaps she knows that you have Lantern’s
ring, and is looking for a way to take it from you, to use it." Bruce considered that. "I had thought that,
too, until I viewed Kyle’s recordings and realized that she had refused his
offer. Though, perhaps, upon realizing that her family is being held in
slavery she has changed her priorities and her opinion about the power in the
ring, and who should wield it. She might covet it to fight Darkseid." "Or simply to get to Apokolips.
It sounds as if she traveled over space looking for the right solar system,
even though it is not reachable by conventional methods. A boom tube must be
used. Or the ring. Maybe she realized that, and is counting on the ring to
provide her transportation." "Perhaps," Bruce said. He thought that
over, and the more he considered it, the more likely it seemed. "All she
needs, really, is access to Apokolips. She intends
to relinquish control of her telepathic technology to me, so it doesn’t fit
that she would use Kyle’s ring to help her fight--that technology is almost
as powerful and just as effective as the ring’s constructs would be. And it
fits that as an Amazon, she will try to fight him, hand to hand." "She’ll lose," "I know," Bruce said. He hated the idea
of Diana fighting Darkseid, on every level. The
danger to herself, to Earth--it was too risky. "If it was just a matter
of freeing her sisters, the JLA could support some kind of discreet operation
on Apokolips. But we can not condone her attempt to
kill him, no matter how evil he is. And that is her intention, I do not doubt
at all." "Perhaps she can be dissuaded, if she is
offered help to free them?" Superman said thoughtfully. Bruce turned away, so that Superman would not see
Batman’s involuntary grin at the Kryptonian’s
interest. "I don’t know," he said. "She has made herself clear
that she would betray us, which is why she set herself up as an enemy to the
JLA in the first place. I have been trying to insinuate myself as a friend to
her, but I would not be surprised if she knew what I was doing. When she
opens up to me, I can not tell if it is calculated on her part to win my
trust, or if she is simply so truthful that she can not keep hiding her
innermost thoughts for long." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"That is why, I imagine, that she did not mention the slaves on Apokolips. She would have known that we would have
offered to help free them, and that would make her indebted--in essence made
us a friend--to the JLA. And she would have known that we would only help
with the stipulation that she not kill anyone. Does revenge mean so much to
her?" He muttered the last. "It may be a matter of honor, Batman.
Perhaps she feels that she would not be welcomed back into Amazon society if
she freed them, but did not kill their captor. If the Amazons had been
enslaved before by Hercules, it may be more than honor -- it might be her
duty in her culture to have revenge upon the enslaver." Batman nodded, then hesitated, and finally said,
"There is another problem. She knows who I am." "She mentioned that she researched the
heroes on Earth before beginning her campaign, including me. I know that she
saw me fight as Batman--she might have followed me, listened long enough to
discover Bruce Wayne." "Will she use it against you to get what she
wants?" "If she is backed into a corner--I think so.
She wanted me to know that she knew for a reason--probably as some kind of
hold over me," Bruce said. But what Diana didn’t know, he thought, is
that he would risk his identity to keep one being--even Darkseid--alive.
He’d risk it to keep her from courting certain death. He’d risk it all, if it came to that. *** "Diana, we need your help," Batman
announced. He watched her blink twice as her eyes adjusted to the sudden
brightness in the cell. "Superman is elsewhere trying to evacuate an
island--volcanic eruption. We need brute strength, and we need it fast."
He turned and walked away down the corridor, and it was only seconds until he
heard her footsteps behind him, then silence as she flew toward him instead
of trying to catch up with him on foot. "What is it?" They entered the control room, and the others
looked at her warily. Batman ignored them, drew her attention to the monitor.
"A portion of a destroyed Imperiex probe. They
are cloaked against radio and energy scans, even while deactivated, so we
didn’t pick it up until we had a visual, and it is too massive for our
defense mechanisms to have a significant impact in time." "In time?" she echoed. "It’s on target to She looked at him, said the words he’d hoped for.
"Where do you want me to send it?" "The sun." She nodded. "I’ll need an oxygen mask."
Flash handed her one almost before she’d finished speaking. She strapped it
on, checked the valves on the tank. Batman escorted her to the airlock, watched on
the monitor as she depressurized, then flew out into
the emptiness of space. *** "It seems like it was a dangerous stunt,
Master Bruce." "It was, Alfred. But necessary."
Watching the probe hurtle toward Earth had prickled the hair at the back of
his neck, reminding him too much of the war with Darkseid
and Imperiex, but it had accomplished one thing: it
made her feel, for just a moment, like one of Earth’s heroes, like a JLA
teammate. "The rest of the JLA didn’t know that Superman was waiting in
case something went wrong, but in any event, she pulled it off magnificently.
Wrapped that rope around a portion of the probe, then
used its own momentum to whip it toward the sun. Like a slingshot." "You sound unusually impressed, sir." Bruce frowned. "I am, Alfred. Most metas of her class--not that there are many--would
probably have tried to stop it with their strength, pushing against it. Instead,
she turned the most dangerous aspects of the probe’s descent--its speed and
weight--against it, and used those factors to destroy it." "It offers one insight into her thought
processes, sir." "Yes, it does. She doesn’t rely on her
powers, but her brain, her reasoning. And she transforms other’s strengths
into weaknesses." "The question seems to be, Master Bruce:
which of your strengths does she plan to use against you in her quest?" Bruce nodded. "And, more importantly, how
much ahead of me is she?" *** "I have discovered a way to get around your
aversion to telepathically controlling the Lansinarian
tech," Diana said. "It can be integrated into the League’s computer
systems, and controlled like any machine from there." "Are you certain it is compatible?" Diana smiled and touched the wall of the cell. No
buzz, no containment field. The door slid open. "That was still under my
telepathic control, of course. But it adjusted to your computer systems
within seconds." Batman’s jaw clenched. She laughed at his expression. "You can
contain it, so that it doesn’t spread through an entire system, Batman. Your
private network will remain safe. I’ll instruct it not to seek other systems.
All you will need to do is give the command to the computer, and the technology
on the island will respond. No telepathy, just technology." "Why didn’t you escape? You’ve had the
capability for a while, obviously." She grinned, leaned back on the bed. "I like
it here." His mouth tightened. "You will not use the
JLA Watchtower as your base for your war on Apokolips,
Diana." Her voice rang with challenge. "Try to stop
me, Batman." *** "There’s no way out of that cell,
Bruce," Superman said. A wry smile touched Batman’s mouth. "You
know I don’t believe that. There’s a way out of everything, even a cell
designed to withstand you." "The Fortress’ defenses are Kryptonian based, and only I know the language. She can neither issue a command, or find a way for her invisible
tech to integrate into Kryptonian systems." "In theory," Bruce said. "But once
again I feel as if I’m playing directly into her hands by bringing her
here." "If you are, you are no worse off than
before." Bruce nodded. "Is she awake yet? I want to
see her reaction to her new surroundings." "She’s just started to wake." *** Her reaction was unexpected. She slammed her fist
into the divider separating her from Batman saw Superman’s surprised expression,
stepped in front of him, blocking Diana’s view of him. "I am the one who
drugged you again, Diana, and brought you here. He did not--" "He did not do anything!" she spat.
"For the last year and a half, nothing. There is a world reeling from
the impact of the war with Darkseid and Imperiex, nations trying to rebuild themselves, tyrants
manipulating subjects left and right for their own gain, citizens looking for
leadership and he disappears. When you could have done the most good,
Superman, when you could have stood for something, you hide away only to show
up when there is a flood or fire." She lifted her lips in a sneer.
"You are a coward." Batman started to point out that her own actions
had been less than heroic, when Superman frowned. "That was not the concern,
as much as wondering how I will be able to forgive myself." He turned,
walked away, leaving Bruce and Diana staring after him. "He is an idiot," Diana announced. Batman practically growled his response.
"Not all of us find it easy to shrug off the death of another person,
Diana, especially when we feel responsible for that death." She looked at him. "Not that, Batman. He is
an idiot thinking that he will find solace and self-forgiveness while
remaining solitary. One can not find that while they are alone. It only
exacerbates the feeling of failure and self-betrayal. You know that better
than anyone -- why else would you have companions?" He deflected that with a question of his own.
"Why do you not have companions and friends, Diana?" She smiled humorlessly. "Because before I
saw the Amazons on Apokolips, that feeling of
failure is what kept me going. Why else would I spend years in empty space,
chasing Darkseid?" "Revenge." She shook her head. "Revenge is what started
my quest. Shame at my failure kept the quest alive." Batman studied her, wondering about the role of
shame, revenge, and determination in his own life. He had moved beyond that,
he was sure -- but how to get her to do the same? "Does the knowledge of
what you have done across the galaxy, all of the nations you’ve helped, give
you no sense of accomplishment?" He watched as she unfastened the golden rope from
her side, tossing it onto the bed before answering. "No," she said.
"There is only my mission. There can only be my mission." And for the first time he was certain that she
had lied to him. *** "She wants to be a hero, Alfred. Her
reaction to Superman was an indication of what she thinks the
responsibilities of a metahuman are." He
paused. "Or maybe it is more correct to say that her nature is to be
one, and her obligations push her in another directions." "She obviously wants to free her sisters, sir,"
Alfred pointed out. "That is certain, and the JLA will assist
her in that. But we must be certain that she will not kill anyone in the
process." "Of course, sir." Alfred hesitated,
then said, "If I may be so bold, Master Bruce--" Bruce smiled. "You know you will be,
Alfred." "--might I suggest that instead of trying to
thwart Diana, you try to jump ahead of her? It seems as though rescuing the
Amazons is not the problem. Why not use her feelings of obligation for your
help to keep her from murder, sir?" Because he wanted her to realize that Darkseid’s death didn’t solve anything on her own,
without the effect of obligations and friendship, he realized. He wanted her
to let Darkseid live because it was wrong to kill;
he didn’t want her to make that decision because of an outside influence. But, he thought, if the outcome was the same...in
any case, he had a feeling there wasn’t much time before she acted, with or
without the JLA’s help. He sighed. Alfred’s suggestion was one he had
thought of himself; he had been biding his time, hoping for some sign that
she had changed her mind, that he and the JLA had some influence over her.
But he couldn’t wait any longer. "You are right, Alfred." And he contacted the rest of the JLA, and
Superman, and told them of his plan to raid Apokolips. *** "No," Diana said. She clasped her hands
together, sat calmly at the cell’s lone table. Bruce braced his palms on the table,
leaned forward. "We are going, Diana. We could use you, but you aren’t
necessary to the mission. Take this offer or sit in your cell. It’s your
decision." Diana watched him carefully,
wondered if Superman was in the fortress. She had hoped that she would be
able to do this with him absent, but if it meant fighting him on her way out,
she would. She pushed away from the table, pretended to think, pacing back
and forth, her gut clenching at the thought of what she was going to do. To
Batman. She didn’t look at him, but her aim was perfect,
the coil of her lasso settled neatly around him. He’d tried to dodge at the
last second, but she adjusted, pulled, caught him.
His heel caught her in the chin, and her head turned with the force of it,
but she held on, used her strength to force his arms back, wrapped
the lasso around his wrists. "Diana!" Her name was an expletive, she
could feel the fury emanating from him as he used his legs, his shoulders,
his weight, trying to break free. He managed to slip out of his gloves, past
the coils on his wrists, but she quickly caught his hands, stripped the
gauntlets from them, tied his bare hands. She lifted
his arms behind his back to the point of pain, pushed a little further. "Stop, Batman." She avoided a slash of
his leg. "Please, stop." He did, not because of her request, she knew, but
because he was calculating, planning a way to get away from her. "You
can’t get out, Diana. The lock is voice activated, and I will not give the
code." She closed her eyes, dredging up the resolve
within her, making sure it was hard, hot. Still, her voice was tinged with
regret as she said, "I know you think that is the truth, Batman, but you
will not have a choice." She lifted him from the floor to deny him
leverage, flew toward the control box in the middle of the glass panel that
served as a door. "Batman, what is the authorization code for the cell
door?" She felt him fight to remain silent, heard his
disbelieving breath after he spoke it. The door slid open, and she coiled the
lasso around him one more time, then used it as
support to carry him under her as she flew down the corridor. "Is
Superman in the fortress?" "No," he gritted out. He fought
furiously against the lasso. "What spell is this? How do you compel me
to speak?" "Truth must be spoken when one is bound by
the golden lasso." They entered the fortress’ great hall, and Diana
paused, floating, looking around her at the technology, the statues. "Do
you know if any of this technology can transport me to Apokolips?" "Yes, but I do not know how to activate
it." She knew he offered the last bit voluntarily, to
dissuade her from her course. She would not be dissuaded. "Is a Green
Lantern ring here?" She knew it wasn’t on the Watchtower -- when she had
integrated the Lansinarian tech with the JLA
computer system, it had run a check over the entire facility and informed her
that the ring was not in safekeeping at that site. It had run probables, told her that the most likely place Batman and
Superman would have hid it was Superman’s nearly impenetrable fortress. "No." "But you know where it is." It wasn’t a
question, so he didn’t have to answer. She lifted him, held him out in front
of her, faced his glare. She sighed. "I told
you not to trust me, Batman. It was stupid of you to come into that
room." "I knew if you didn't agree with our plan
your hand would be forced," he said. "I didn’t trust you." It shouldn’t have hurt, but it was the truth, and
it did. She ignored the feeling, asked her next question clearly. "Where
have you hidden the Green Lantern’s ring?" And watched, unbelieving, as his eyes closed and
his head lolled backward on his shoulders. Her mouth opened in surprise, then
began to laugh at his audacity, his cleverness, despite herself and the
effect on her plan. He had, somehow, managed to fall unconscious to
avoid answering her questions. *** He recognized the smell of the island before he
opened his eyes. He felt the ground underneath him, cushioned by the grass
and his uniform. She was there, standing over him, watching him.
"So we are at an impasse, Batman. You will make yourself fall
unconscious again if I ask you about the ring--" "Yes." He pushed himself up, stood
facing her, letting his cape come forward, presenting to her a solid black
form. "--and I will not agree to endangering
Earth’s remaining heroes in my quest." "Freeing enslaved women is part of their
mission, their purpose as well." Her eyes shone, brilliantly blue. "And my
intent to kill Darkseid? They condone that as
well?" She shook her head, her hair swinging over her shoulders. "I
will take Darkseid down, and they would become a
part of that, it would weigh on their conscience. Do not tell me that you
want more Supermans on your hands, Batman. His
guilt and inaction frustrates you, I can tell." He kept his expression blank. "And what of
your guilt if you succeed?" She palmed her lasso, quickly wrapped it around
her waist. "An Amazon should have no guilt for upholding the honor of
her race, for seeking revenge on a murderer, and enslaver." She held his
gaze. "I am bound by the lasso’s truth as well, Batman. What I say is
the truth." He stepped forward quickly, placed his hand over
hers as she started to unwind the lasso. Her skin was warm under his.
"Say that again, Diana, but this time use the words, ‘I, Diana, will
feel no guilt for killing Darkseid.’" She opened her mouth to speak, trembled, tried again. Finally, she closed her eyes in defeat.
"I can’t," she said. "But it doesn’t matter. It must be done,
guilt or not." "It does matter. There must be another way,
and we'll find it," he said quietly. "Trust me." He saw the indecision war on her features, didn’t
realize he was holding his breath until she said, "I do." A flash
of humor lit her face, and she gestured to the lasso still clasped in both
their hands. "I trust you....a little." And he knew it was the truth when he answered,
"As I do you. Very little." She laughed, and he admitted to himself that he
liked the sound of it more than a little. ---to be continued |