With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

Dependency Day

My bed feels soft. Did I go to sleep on top of the duvet? Stars? Did I leave the blinds open? I try to turn to the clock, but there's just more stars? I wake up pretty much instantly at that point and OH SHIT THAT'S THE EARTH! I see the Earth and it's a long way away and I'm breathing? I bring my hands up to my face. No, no space suit. I see the Earth and I'm breathing and I'm not cold or hot and there's no space suit? I'm in space. What?

There's something glowing on my left hand. I don't wear rings but I now have one on my ring finger? It's orange. In fact, I'm orange. I'm glowing orange. I hold my hand up to my eyes and-



-AAAAaaaauuhhhh!?

That's an orange power ring. I'm being kept alive in space by an orange power ring. Well I… I suppose I've never felt suicidal, so that much makes sense. I poke my other arm. Yes, definitely flesh, I haven't been turned into a construct. I don't seem to feel the overwhelming avarice that comes from the orange central power battery, so I guess this is one of the other rings? One of the ones that Larfleeze keeps in his cave? Does he know it's gone?

Fucking stupid. It's Larfleeze. Of course he knows it's gone.

Alright. I'm calming down. As long as I want to remain alive, I will. I can probably fly by wanting to move. I want to move.

Did I move? I can't tell. I don't seem to have moved relative to the Earth, but the Earth is very big and I wasn't trying to move that far. I don't want to go anywhere in particular. I'm still wearing my pyjamas; I can't go out in public like this. Pyjamas?

I look down to check that I am still wearing pyjamas. Yep, with an added orange lantern corps emblem on the chest. Guess the ring just changes whatever I wear to something thematically appropriate? Shouldn't it have generated an actual uniform?

I'm going to assume that that Earth isn't my Earth. If power rings actually existed and this one had come for me it would have found me in my bed. Unless I was dreaming about flying in space? I don't remember doing that and I don't remember seeing a ring choose a sleeping wearer in the comics. Would that work?

Huh. If that actually is DC Earth down there then I'm going to be the most out of shape Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!

Something happened. Everything's blurry. I think I'm standing on something, but I don't pay attention because everything hurts too much! My arms. My chest. My abdomen, my teeth, my eyes! How do eyes even hurt? They're watering and I'm blinking and gasping and all I can see is a creamy white colour and more black. I hug my arms to my chest and bend over. Oh, aagh, it's not just the pain, everything feels the wrong shape. The pain is being caused by something I can't fix. I don't want to-.

And it stops. My body still sort of tingles, like I've just gone from somewhere warm into somewhere cold and the veins in my skin are trying to decide whether to contract or not. But the pain is gone. My body still feels wrong though. I need to see-.

A thin orange line extends straight in front of me from the ring. At about four meters it stops and spreads right, as if someone was pouring liquid into a mould, only the mould is filling from the top left rather than the bottom. My first construct is a mirror. Sort of. Obviously it isn't reflecting anything, it's making an image of what it would reflect. It actually has a construct frame with a bevelled edge and is about three meters by two in size.

Whow. I'm looking good.

I've never been properly fat or anything, but I've never really taken to physical exercise and, well, no sense lying about it, I have been carrying a little weight about the stomach. Not any more. My arms are now about twice their earlier width. My shoulders are broader. My chest -I roll up my pyjama top- goodness, I have abs! I've never had abs! I run a hand over them. Huh, those don't feel like I was expecting. My chest hair is gone -wait, check- along with most of my other body hair. That feels weird. Feels kind of sticky. My face -the mirror shrinks and moves closer- is pretty much the same. My nose is a little straighter and if I can see this clearly my short sightedness has been fixed. No visible hair on my chin. Skin clarity appears to have improved. The hair on the top of my head is shorter. Looks like something Hugh Grant had in his prime, but longer at the back. Not sure how it's staying where it is. It should be flopping all over the place. Teeth are improved as well. Evenly sized, shaped and in good condition. I think I also look younger? Maybe, it's hard to tell when the image is orange.

I wave my hand and the construct dissipates. And that's when I realise that I'm STANDING ON THE MOON. Grey dust and rock all around and the Earth is visible in the sky. It's too much. I'm in a place only a handful of humans have ever been and my response is to drop to the ground, staring at the sky.

I'm sitting on the moon watching the Earth. I think the ring just rebuilt my body based on how I ideally want to look. Which really hurt. It must have been transmuting new muscle from existing fat. Or maybe even just making more meat from orange power? Should I feel bad about that? Doesn't everyone want to look a bit better than they do?

Shit. This isn't a dream. I never feel pain in dreams. And not enough is going on. I'm actually here and I have to deal with it.

Plan. Plan plan plan plan. Okay, first. Check that this isn't my Earth. I need to go home to do that. If there's another me here it's going to be weird, but I'm a fairly reasonable guy. DC comics don't really show much outside the US so I don't know if the places I've lived in will actually be there if I've somehow entered a comic reality. I can't plan anything else until I know where I am.

Now, how do I get there?

I stand back up. I go to brush off my legs because the dirt has coated everything it touched. Then I remember I'm wearing a power ring and I like being clean. A ring of orange passes over my body and the dust falls slowly away. As the ring reaches my feet I float a little off the ground. No sense getting dirty again just after cleaning myself. Now that's done, how to get to Earth? I have to want it to happen but I'm mostly just feeling apprehension about what I'll find when I get there.

Anal retentiveness to the rescue!

It's late at night and I have to be up for work tomorrow. I need to get to sleep and the best place for that is in bed! On Earth! If I don't then my schedule will be completely messed up. It's working! My need for regularity is controlling the flight!

Now to find somewhere familiar and see if it exists.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Welcome to Happy Hour

18th July
10:37 GMT -5

"What I'm saying is, they accidentally took a guy from the wrong planet. That doesn't sound very safe to me."

M'gann and I are in the kitchen area. Finding out that despite her appearance she is actually forty eight was quite a relief. Someone I can talk to! Aqualad is sixteen but I've got no idea whether that counts as adult or not in his country. Superboy came out of his pod on the day I got the ring. He looks physically adolescent, but his mental development is all over the place. I had an interesting conversation with him about 'Human, All Too Human' a couple of days ago. His analysis of some of the aphorisms was interesting, but when he spoke it sounded like he was reading out something someone else had written. When I questioned him about it he got in a mood and stomped off. If we're going to live together I'll have to watch myself to make sure I don't push his buttons like that.

"Uncle J'onn says that that can't happen again."

"Of course it can't; he's already here."

She giggles. "No, I mean the safety systems have been improved since Dr. Erdel's experiment. There has to be a tube at each end, and they check the signal integrity before sending whoever is inside."

I've got a construct whisk whisking the mango custard. I'm on dinner duty this evening and I've decided to try my mango meringue cake on a captive audience. People at work seemed to like it. The construct has four whisk bits and as it has no actual mechanical components is virtually silent. I've kept the basic shape though, since I'm used to it and the handle is convenient. The one I made for work had two layers. This one will have three. Partly because I want to push my baking skills, and partly because I want there to be some left for the rest of us when Kid Flash has finished. He says that he has a fast metabolism as a result of his speed, but I don't think that can be right. He can run at the speed of sound; there is no way a human body can ingest enough to fuel that in the conventional way. On the other hand, he isn't gaining weight, so, I don't know.

Cooking for and being cooked for by apprentice superheroes is an interesting experience. M'gann goes for traditional American food, though yesterday she branched out into Tex-Mex. I pretty much flip through a recipe book until I find something that looks interesting, though when it comes to pudding I currently have a bit of a custard fixation. When he's actually here Kaldur does baked fish with various kinds of seaweed. It isn't as bad as it sounds. Superboy does Beef Stroganoff and poached pears. He does them well, but it appears to be all he knows how to do. I watched him once, and he put everything he needed out on the work surface in a very particular arrangement before starting. Cooked the whole thing in a fugue state, unresponsive when I tried to ask him about it.

One morning M'gann tried to help him make pancakes. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but I ended up having to remove burned pancake mix from the work surfaces, floor and his forearms with the ring.

Kid Flash actually looked distraught when he turned up last Friday evening and I told him I didn't know the number of the local pizzeria.

"But do they check the integrity of the thing checking the integrity?"

"There is at least one level of redundancy built in to each system, an automatic remote daily system check and a service each month." I stop and look at her. She simpers. "I read the manual."

"Good. I'm glad someone has."

The custard is mixed. I won't add the mango puree until it's started to get stodgy. I eliminate the whisk construct and watch as the custard mix coating it falls into the bowl. I put it in the microwave, one hundred percent power, four minutes.

"Are zeta tubes common on Mars?"

"No, we don't use them at all. Earth developed the technology first, and on Mars the radiation disrupts the signals too much for it to be much use."

I float off the ground, legs folded up beneath me. The cake itself is in the oven, the custard is in the microwave and I can't start the meringue until they are both done and cool. I also can't start doing something else while the custard is cooking because it needs attention every few minutes.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Huh?"

"You do that sitting in the air thing a lot. I was just wondering why?"

Huh, I suppose I have. Hadn't thought about it. Didn't realise that she'd noticed.

"I've had this ring for a fortnight. The novelty value of being able to do this hasn't worn off yet. Kinda hope it never does, actually."

"I can't imagine not being able to fly."

Huh?

"I don't think I've ever seen you fly outside of the base."

"Yes, because I'm trying to fit in. I can't just walk down the street and start floating things in public."

"Why not? There are humans who can do things like that."

"Yes, but not very many. I don't want to attract that amount of attention. While I'm here, I just want to be a normal Earth teenager."

Teenager? Odd. Maybe shape shifters think about societal groups in a different way to humans?

"You do know we're not a monoculture, right? A teenager in the United States is very different to one in Kenya, or Pakistan."

"Yes, but my first exposure to Earth culture was in some TV shows Uncle J'onn sent back after I asked what it was like here."

"They were all American?"

"I think so. I didn't bring the tapes with me, and when I watched them I didn't really know anything about the different countries on Earth."

"Might be interesting to watch them again, now you know more about what it's like here."

"Maybe. I think I mostly liked them because it was so different to what I was used to. Open skies rather than caves."

"You lived in a cave?"

"All Martians do. Oh, no, not little caves. Vast underground caverns. All of the settlements on Mars are underground, because of the radiation."

"Uh."

Mars must be very different here. And not just the being inhabited thing, there are reasons why some worlds don't develop life.

"You said that you came here from a parallel universe, right?"

"As far as I can tell, that's correct."

"Do you have… What's Mars like there?"

"In my parallel Mars is a frigid, barren, uninhabited desert wasteland. I think we found some bacteria in soil samples, but that's about it as far as life goes."

"Oh."

"Sorry, but it's like I said. Where I'm from Humans have only met other Humans."

The microwave keeps whirring. There was something I was meaning to ask. What was it? Oh, yes.

"I've been wondering… I saw you change your t-shirt from white to black when I first got here..?"

"Yes?"

"Do you actually wear clothes, or do you just shape shift part of your skin to look like you are?"

Silence. The microwave beeps, and I pull the steaming protocustard out onto the work surface and recreate the whisk construct.

"YesIwearclothesofcourseIwearclothes!"

I turn around. She looks flustered and is blushing purple.

"Oh. Shape shifting clothes. That's fairly impressive, actually. Though I suppose for a Martian on Earth something like that would be pretty essential."

A quick wizz with the whisk and then the custard goes back into the microwave. I set it for two minutes and go back to watching it.

"I'm not naked."

"Alright. What sort of range do these wonder garments of yours have? Just standard humanoid, or can they do extra arms as well?"

"Really. I'm wearing clothes. Totally wearing clothes."

"I fully accept that you are wearing clothes."

"I mean, you don't seem to care but some people would probably find it really strange if I wasn't wearing clothes."

"They probably would."

"It would be really humiliating."

"Okay."

"I just want to be clear."

"You are fully clad. The matter is resolved."

"Okay."

"Okay."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Prod Zone

19th July
12:49 GMT -6

I peer into the desiccated face of what was once our target.

"Ye-ap. This one's not alive either."

After yesterday I thought it might be good for M'gann and Superboy to get out of the base on something that looked kind of like a mission. Which is why we're walking through the swamps of Louisiana in an attempt to track down either Doctor Alec Holland or, as I hope, Swamp Thing. Finding the weird mutant plant he nominally lives in was quite simple for the ring. Finding the Elemental himself is presently defeating us. This is the seventh abandoned Swamp Thing body we've come across.

Robin is helping Red Tornado investigate Mister Twister's remains. American summer holidays are really long, apparently. He wanted to come until I said that it was unlikely anything interesting was going to happen and Red Tornado made it clear that we were obliged to retreat in the event of a hostile reception. His orders may not be binding like Batman's or Diana's but I don't want to irritate him all the same.

Wallace is back in Central City doing… Something. Possibly washing his hair. Since Robin let everyone know my name Wallace decided it would be fair to share his. Apparently, not even his mother calls him Wallace and I'm on a list with his grandmother and his geography teacher.

Kaldur wanted to plan out team training activities. I also asked him about getting the base warded against arcane attack. He said that it was a bit beyond his abilities. Mentioned some Atlantean friends of his who might have been up to it. Someone named Tula -whose name sounded vaguely familiar from the comics- and Garth. Kaldur became Aquaman's aide after he and Garth aided him in combat against Ocean Master. Both were offered the position, but Garth chose to remain at the Conservatory of Sorcery instead in this timeline. Would he have chosen differently if Kaldur wasn't there? I don't remember his comic background well enough to know if that's how it happened there. Kaldur also said that my referring to him as Royal Champion was a bit premature. He doesn't actually have a formal court title as yet.

Superboy appears to be adjusting well to his new and improved ears. He's currently photographing and taking samples from different parts of the Swamp Thing modified plants that we've found so far. M'gann and I are doing a bit of exploring. Since none of us know which bits are safe to step on floating over the ground is really the best way to do it. Superboy looked a bit down at the whole 'can't join in because you can't fly' aspect of the thing, but as I told him, we need information. He perked up a little once M'gann offered to teach him to fly the Bio-Ship.

**Orange Lantern to Miss Martian.**

**It sounds weird when you think it.**

**I'm still not sold on the whole 'secret identity' thing. Makes even less sense for you.**

**My Earth name is similar to my Martian name.**

**Actual name.**

**Right. And my face is the same, just a different color. People might make the connection if they heard it.**

**Anyone on Earth capable of telepathic eavesdropping could already get your secret identity. I don't suppose you've heard anything from our target?**

**I don't know what a Plant Elemental's mind would sound like, but.. so far it's just swamp creatures.**

**Right. He's either not here or he's avoiding us. I'll do a ring scan and then I think we should break for lunch. Try a different approach in the afternoon. Superboy, you about done on your end?**

**Yeah.**

**Red Tornado say anything about the pictures?**

**He said he'd get someone to look at it.**

I smile. **Anyone know a super powered botanist other than Pamela Isley?**

**Who?** / **Who?**

Neither of them have heard of her? **Poison Ivy? Crazy Gotham plant woman? Feeds people to giant pitcher plants?**

Silence from Superboy.

**I.. think I remember Robin mentioning her.**

**Right, when we get back I'm sticking both of you in front of some case files. You need to know this stuff.** I get a sense of disgruntlement from Superboy. I'll snap him out of that. **You think Superman doesn't read up on potential threats? You think he hasn't invested a great deal of effort in finding out exactly how hard he has to hit someone to put them down quickly without causing permanent damage? Being strong isn't enough, you have to know how to use it.**

**Fine.**

Done it again. **Look, I was thinking about asking Diana to give you some hand to hand combat tuition. I'm not convinced that Black Canary's martial arts are going to be of much use to someone as strong as you. Is that something you'd be interested in?**

There's a brief pause. **I should be getting taught by Superman.**

Haven't seen him around, actually. **How are things between you and him anyway?** There's a flash of something from M'gann. Feels like… Panic? **What?**

**They're fine!**

**Okay, well, let me know if you're interested. I'll see you both back at the ship.** If the swamp were a bit dryer, I might find it pretty. As it is the mud and mosquitoes put me right off. "Ring, scan for any more piles of vines that used to be Swamp Thing."

Immediately I can feel their locations. Wanting something more precise I create a map construct with their locations. There's about forty, plus or minus seven for degrees of decay. No real pattern, other than there seem to be more around his home, and none of them are moving. Makes sense. I save the map and fly back towards the ship.

There's a shallow pool to one side of the.. tree..? Vine mound? I have no idea what to call the thing Swamp Thing lives in. Beautiful and quite alien. I doubt it would survive without his attention and upkeep. The Bio-Ship is hovering over the more solid ground on the other side, stealth disengaged. Superboy left a letter from us addressed to the owner, asking him to get in contact. I somehow doubt that he will.

I fly around to the rear entrance and enter the ship. Superboy's in the pilot's seat with M'gann standing over him, pointing out the basic controls. Superboy hunches slightly as I land. M'gann turns around and smiles nervously at me.

**This is just coming to you. Superman and Superboy… Well… Superman didn't take finding out that someone cloned him particularly well. I don't think they've spoken since the others got him out of Cadmus.**

**Fiddlesticks.** She frowns slightly. **Dah, okay, sorry. I'll try and fix it.**

She nods, and turns back to Superboy. "Okay Superboy, take us up."

His hands move over the controls and the ship rises above the canopy. I'm not worried about being seen. If the comics are anything to go by this whole area is inhabited only by crazy people who see far weirder stuff on a daily basis. If the comics aren't anything to go by then there's still nothing anywhere near here. I walk over to sit at the right forward seat. I know we brought packed lunches, but…

Idea!

I swivel the chair around to face them.

"How about we go and find a restaurant? There's got to be somewhere that does good food around here. My treat, if we can find somewhere that will take gold as payment."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Skived

25th July
14:37 GMT -5

I don't think I'll ever quite get used to the way technology works around here. Not the user interfaces, which are either completely straightforward or completely incomprehensible -unmarked keyboards ahoy-, but the fact that it all works at all. Back when I first met Alan his intercom had completely clear sound, and it's all like that. Computers just don't crash during regular use. This base is full of machines that are just waiting to go wrong, and they never do. I remember reading Hyperion, where at the end the Shrike Church get trapped in their mountain fortress when the wormhole network collapses, because that was the only entrance. Our exits are giant blast doors and zeta tubes and they always work. I have the ring scan them every time before I use them. Nothing goes wrong. Coming from a place where the trains don't run on time if it rains -or if it doesn't- it takes a bit of getting used to.

I've paired my dark grey jeans with an orange shirt today. I doubt Alan or Diana would mind if I showed up in my usual vest but I feel I should make an effort. This will be the first time I've spent much time in both of their company in a casual setting since the team was founded. Plus, the orange colouration means that the Lantern sigil doesn't really show; Vietnamese colour matching at its finest.

I'm on pudding duty, so I'm bringing a few hundred grams of chocolate with me in subspace. I ended up getting a chocolate pudding recipe online after M'gann found me in the kitchen swearing at one of the ones we have here which expresses all quantities in volume rather than mass. I don't mind ounces or grams, but whoever thought that a 'cup' was a sensible measure of anything solid needs to be slapped around the face. Also, not American 'chocolate'. I know some mainland European connoisseurs get snooty about British chocolate, but the US stuff is frankly hydrogenated vegetable oil filled swill. The chocolate I'll be using comes from Belgium.

Cadbury exists here, and it doesn't look like anyone is planning to take it over. If that situation changes I will seriously consider buying as much of it as I need to in order to prevent that from happening. Fucking Kraft.

"Hey, nice shirt."

Wallace is standing next to the main computer console in casuals. Robin is working a case with Batman and M'gann's taken Superboy out shopping so instead of hanging around with them he's looking at the initial reports on Venom Buster. I vaguely knew that his Justice League Unlimited incarnation was a police chemist but until last Tuesday I hadn't realised that this version shared that skill set. Apparently he copied Jay Garrick's speed formula in his own bedroom with some fairly basic materials.

Given that the formula is three for three with no serious adverse effects, I wonder why it isn't more widely used? I can understand about not making it public, but any baseline Human in 'the community' could benefit. Heck, Wallace's eating disorder is probably a product of amateur level equipment, rather than a problem with the formula itself.

I wonder if he could fix it by repeating the process with better materials? Or would doubling up make matters worse? Is there some common element between the Garrick Formula and the Danner Formula? Not sure what happens when you use a magic formula on someone who's already had a magic formula. Besides, the Danner Formula needs to be used in vitro. I… might want to look at getting a copy of each…

"Thanks. You ever need a suit, I'll introduce you to my tailor."

"Heading out early, aren't you?"

"I'm doing pudding. Besides, Diana's bringing a plus one and I want to find out who it is. On my parallel, someone like Wonder Woman dating would be bigger news."

He stops typing, and looks at me in confusion. "Did she actually say she was bringing a date?"

"Urp, no, Alan just said a plus one. That means date, right?"

He goes back to work. "Maybe. But she's probably just bringing Troia along."

The word forms even as I remember who she is. "Who?"

He looks incredulous. "Are you serious? You didn't know about Wonder Woman's other student?"

Donna Troy, the woman with the most messed-about-with back story in DC. I know that she's got the same abilities as Wonder Woman, but even though I've never had any interest in the character I can remember three distinct versions of where her powers come from. Right, right, Diana already said that she doesn't have any sisters, so that's out. So, that leaves being given the powers by the Greek gods on Themyscira or inheriting them from Titanic ancestors. Or something else. Can't remember anything about her personality.

"Diana never.. mentioned.. her?"

She didn't. And I looked up 'Wonder Girl' on the League's database and found no matches. Maybe I should have looked up Donna Troy as well, but that might have shown that I know real names when I shouldn't. I thought she started calling herself Troia as an adult. I mean, what does Troia even mean, anyway?

"You really didn't know?"

"Does this look like my 'I know what's going on' face?"

"N-no? Whaw. Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Huh. Kinda assumed that you'd met her by now."

"Nope."

Is she going to think I stole her mentor? I haven't been spending that much time with Diana. Have I? I certainly haven't been monopolising her. But maybe there's only so many trainee-appropriate missions?

"Wonder if she wants to join us?"

"I don't know! I never heard of her until just now."

And then he's standing next to me with an arm around my shoulder. "You should totally talk to her about it. She's pretty hot."

"I'll be sure to mention it."

"'Cause if she did join, we'd have a Bat, a Flash, a Super, a Martian, an Atlantean, an Amazon and a Lantern. That's the founding League right there."

"I'm sure the subject will come up."

"Make sure it does. I don't wanna start feeling bad about hogging all the female attention around here."

Yea-ah.

"I will endeavour to ensure that that doesn't happen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a walk ahead of me."

"You know New York has cabs, right?"

Sigh.

"I can't carry conventional currency without destroying it. Some cab drivers would believe that a person would pay them in gold, but most would tell me to get lost, or call the police. I don't want to draw attention to Alan's house by flying there while glowing orange so I either have to get the zeta tube to Upper Manhattan and walk, take one to Metropolis and walk further, or take the one to Washington and travel underwater, which is incredibly boring."

"Yeah, I feel so sorry for you having to have dinner with Alan Scott and two of the hottest women on the planet."

He releases me and walks back to the computer at normal speed. I walk over to the entrance to Zeta Tube A, and look at it for a moment.

"Ring, just… just check it's working properly."

"Operations within defined parameters."

"Are you still worried about that?"

"I am justifiably cautious."

He sniggers. "Whatever."

Fine. I enter my destination, straighten my posture, and march in.

"Recognised, Orange Lantern, B zero six."

Ugh.

"It's Orange Lantern two eight-"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Exfiltrator

9th August
09:52 GMT -5

I've now been in a world with superheroes for over a month.

The thought hits me as I leave my room having changed into beach wear. I'm not usually a fan of beach activity, but I have resolved to participate in as many group activities as possible. And who knows, maybe with the higher temperatures and -let's be honest here- nicer beaches than Eastbourne it'll grow on me. With the ring I don't have to worry about sun burn or cuts from small stones.

A world of superheroes is probably the only place in which my wardrobe would go unremarked. Back home I have an eclectic range of garments, bought years ago or -in the case of most of my t-shirts- won as prizes. Never tried to create a theme, and didn't really wear most of it. Here, I'm doing things a bit differently. Aside from a few white shirts everything is grey with orange decoration. As a result, everything goes with everything else and I'm immediately recognisable to anyone who knows me without standing out much to anyone who doesn't.

Currently, I'm wearing dark grey swimming trunks with a partial view of the Orange Lantern Corps sigil to the front of my left hip. I'm carrying a large thick grey towel with a slightly elongated Orange sigil in the centre. For obvious reasons the beach around the Mountain is private, and it's not like the sigil is widely known. I had thought that it might be a problem if anyone saw us on the beach attached to a known Justice League facility, but really the idea of this place remaining secret for any length of time was such a nonsense anyway that I decided not to care.

I've now been in a world with superheroes for over a month. Some things I've adapted to. The costumes no longer stand out as much. I've started getting used to new names for familiar things, and have updated my alternate history knowledge sufficiently that differences there no longer leave me dumbfounded. But the more I've learned, the less other things make sense. The separation of magic from mainstream study is a big one. Tech hoarding is another, and superheroes do it nearly as much as supervillains. I decided that if I wanted to change that, I'd have to prove to the League that I can have good ideas. Before I design an escape resistant supervillain prison on Ganymede, I need something on a smaller scale.

Suggesting appropriate people for League candidacy is one possible avenue, and recommendations for membership of my team another. I've decided to perform background research on people I think might be what the League's looking for, but whom they wouldn't ordinarily consider. Diana already knows that I can break secret identities easily, so that won't come as a shock. She hasn't said anything about that since. I wonder if I should ask?

League membership comes pretty much from word of mouth, which is why most members are American. There aren't any other Amazons in Diana's weight class and few of them would have the inclination to join up anyway. The latter is part of the reason why there aren't any other Atlanteans either, though Kaldur tells me that the opinion among younger Atlanteans is rather different. So; who do I know of that would be a good member?

Accomplished Perfect Physician is the obvious choice. A decent man, powerful enough to stand with the League and not so nationalistic that he'd create discord. Plus, if I remember correctly he's an actual medical doctor, and the League could do with one of those. Since he doesn't know anyone in the League he'd never be recommended through normal channels. Would the Chinese government let him? I think so. I doubt that they really want him in the Great Ten, or the equivalent group if it doesn't exist here. They signed off on the League's UN mandate, and I imagine that they'd like to see someone 'flying the flag'. So, put his name down for background checking if I can confirm that he exists.

Heh. I imagine it'll be a novel experience for the Chinese military: having someone hack them.

I can't think of anyone else. All the other superheroes I can remember well are American. Of those I don't remember well, I think there was an Arab guy who worked with Superman a bit? Might be able to track him down. Fire and Ice of course, but Fire's involvement in Operation Condor puts me off her a bit. No, hang on, she'd have been far too young to have been involved if that happened in this timeline. Uh, this is going to be irritating. I still can't rely on what I think I know.

Anyway. No one else stands out as a good candidate that wouldn't have already come to their attention. I can start investigating him this afternoon, if nothing comes up. As for team members, Zatanna is an obvious auto-include. We could do with a thaumaturgist and her father is a League member. She's a lot younger than I thought she'd be. Still no luck on Timothy Hunter or Rachel Roth. Actually had a go at tracing Ms Roth the hard way. None of the thirty two Rachel Roths in the right age category in the US appeared to match. I've given the ring instructions to make daily scans, but I'm not hopeful.

Once we finally got to speak to the right Abigail Holland I did a quick check. No Tefé. Abigail was understandably nervous about our presence but we eventually persuaded her to speak to Swamp Thing about establishing some sort of working relationship, though if he's anything like in the comics I doubt he'll go for it.

Other names? My first thoughts are of the younger Captain Cornwall and Red Star. Since the story I remember Cornwall from has him nearly kill his father due to his frustration at the latter's unwillingness to take superheroing seriously he seems like he would be both receptive to an offer and enthusiastic about taking advantage of it. If we can get to him before he reaches the patricide stage. Red Star I don't really know much about, but I think he was a member of the Teen Titans and again, I think his government would probably be okay about releasing him. I've already confirmed that Beryl Hutchinson is active as Squire, but I worry that Knight might fall apart again without her. Maybe? I'm sure that Diana would appreciate seeing some female names on any list I present.

The one person I'd really like to see join us is Amon. If he exists here then he's probably either an infant or in a slave labour camp somewhere. Plus, he won't be empowered unless I sort things out with Teth Adam. I think I'm going to need to retrace the Batsons' last steps to see if I can further clarify his origins. I'd like to help, but I can't afford to take unnecessary chances.

For a moment I actually considered suggesting Teth Adam for League membership. I remember him spending time with the Justice Society in the comics, but it didn't last and I doubt it could work here anyway. Theo's just done too much damage with his stolen powers.

We're meeting in the dining area. I think I can just about hear M'gann…

"…doesn't necessarily mean that. Maybe they just do things differently in England?"

I turn the corner and M'gann and Robin are already there. M'gann's wearing a yellow bikini top and yellow shorts, and she has a short red surfboard thing propped up against a work surface. She's also still green. Guess she thinks that the secrecy thing's a non-starter as well. Robin's wearing blue shorts, and has a small white towel around his neck and a ball in his right hand.

"Do what differently in England?"

"Ah-."

M'gann had her back to me. She turns and sees me. Her eyes widen. Do I have something on my face?

"What?"

Robin's smirking.

"Cooking! We were talking about cooking!"

"Oh. Look, I know Britain hasn't had the best reputation for food, but we've come a long way in the last decade or so. I grew up watching cookery programs, and we hardly ever ate take away or prepackaged food at home. Can't promise it's a national trait or anything, but I enjoy cooking."

M'gann's still staring. Is it the trunks? Were they a mistake? I haven't swum regularly for a very long time, but I used to wear them back when I did. Plus, I'm honest enough to admit that I want to show off my ring-engineered body a little. She can't be reacting to that, though. All the guys on the team are as buff as me, or buffer.

Kaldur and Kon approach from the kitchen, carrying picnic baskets. Kon just registers my presence, but Kaldur stares a little too. What is it?

"Um. I don't think I've seen you without-." M'gann's eyes flick over me, and she gulps. "Without your ring on."

"Oh, you still haven't. I'm wearing it now."

The whole team stares. Then, as one, their gaze drifts down towards my trunks.

"MY TOE! On my TOE!" I raise my left foot and point to it on my enringed long toe. "Minds out the gutter, people."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Acceptance

27th July
06:12 GMT -5

This early in the morning I don't think it's much of a risk to just fly to Alan's house, as long as I don't land in his garden or something. A quick look around to make sure there's no one in the immediate vicinity, and I land in a woodland in Isham Park before switching to civilian clothing.

I still don't know what he wants. He actually sent the message directly via the ring, rather than using the secure comm line. I knew that it was possible to do that from the comics and the animated series, but I had assumed it was intra-Corps only. Guess I was wrong about that. Unusual way to get woken up, particularly given that he said it wasn't that important, but I owe Alan a lot and if he wants me to visit early in the morning without telling me why, that's what I'm going to do.

I tense slightly when I see the expensive looking black car parked outside Alan's house, with a man whom I assume to be the chauffeur leaning against the bonnet reading a newspaper.

Ring?

No weapons detected.

Where's Alan?

I see his living room. He's sitting in the same chair he sat in when we first met. Another, more weather-beaten old man sits opposite. They're holding an animated discussion, but it seems to be good humoured. I don't recognise-.

The hell? He just turned to look at me, my perspective point on the image. I'm not even how is what?

Returning my full concentration to my surroundings, I pass the car, jog up the drive and open the door.

"He makes pretty good time, too."

The other man's voice.

I move down the corridor at stride-pace and open the door to the living room. Alan and whoever… Kent Nelson? Fate? Oh. Both turn their heads to look at me. Alan's in his standard shirt and jeans, but Mister Nelson's in a full suit. A walking stick is propped up against the settee. He lacks Alan's vigour, but he still looks good for a man of one hundred and six.

"Alan. Mister Nelson. Where's the fire?"

Mister Nelson lowers his head slightly, a wry smile on his lips.

Alan shrugs. "Paul, I said that it wasn't all that important. If you were still asleep-."

"I was woken up by a giant orange head coming out of the ring."

He pauses for a moment. "Uh, I didn't mean for it to be giant."

"I'm lucky there was no one in the room above me. The top half of your head was projected through the ceiling. I just saw a giant chin. Didn't even realise it was you to start with."

"Oh. Sorry about that."

"No, it's fine. I hadn't even realised that I could communicate with Green Lanterns that way. I'll have to see about prank calling Lantern Jordan or something."

Mister Nelson shuffles forward to the edge of his seat before rising to his feet. He offers me his right hand, and I shake it. He barely comes up to my shoulders, but his gaze is clear and slightly fierce, the mouth set of a man familiar with disappointment. His hand is cold, and bony.

"I was surprised when Alan told me he'd taken on an apprentice."

"I think I was a surprise to him as well."

"Wouldn't have worked in our day. No computer databases for your ring to sift through. Though I can see things like that'll be a problem, going forwards."

I turn and sit on the chair underneath the window. Mister Nelson gingerly lowers himself back into the settee.

"I wanted you to meet Kent while he was in the city. He's heading to the airport to catch a flight down to New Orleans in half an hour."

The older man smiles slightly. "Always happy to catch-."

"Kent! You! The scrying pool."

He looks at me quizzically. "I'm sorry kid, but you're going to have to be a bit more coherent than that."

"When I went to Themyscira. Diana told me that someone called 'Kent' created a scrying pool for her to communicate with home, back in the forties. I hadn't-" I wiggle my right index finger back and forth. "-made the connection between that and you until just now."

"Oh! I remember that thing. Must have taken weeks to get the darn thing to focus properly. Was worth it though, to see the smiles on her and her mother's faces."

"Did you ever try creating any others? I'd have thought that long distance communication with coloured images would have been very impressive, compared to nineteen forties technology."

He shakes his head. "It wouldn't have worked. Magala and I needed to be on hand at either end to keep it working when they wanted to speak as it was. There just weren't enough magic users around in those days to build a network." He sighs. "There's even less, today."

Magala?

"Don't the Atlanteans teach magic? Aqualad seemed to imply that it was fairly common where he's from."

"It's the wrong style, the wrong sort of approach. But, if things keep going as they are, I might need to hire an aqualung after all."

Alan nods at him. "Kent's going to-."

I hold up my hands. "Don't tell me, don't tell me! I've been practising this." I take a deep breath, and close my eyes. Ring, Ophidian's Eyes.

M'gann tells me that this application of the orange light makes my irises look like those of a snake, with glowing orange vertical slits. I can't see it myself, because it replaces my normal vision with images of the desires of whoever I look at, and mirrors don't want things. I know the Greenies can't do this.

I turn to Mister Nelson, and I'm assaulted by images. A woman… His wife? The Helm of Fate. A tower. An idea… There's no image, but I can feel-.

"That's about enough of that, I think." My vision returns to normal. Mister Nelson's raised his right hand in a 'halt' gesture, a golden glowing ankh floating just in front of it. "Young man, looking into someone's soul isn't something you should do so casually."

Souls are a thing here?

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't think that was what it did."

I flick my eyes towards Alan. And get a shock. Mister Nelson didn't turn the Eyes off, he just blocked them from working on himself. And now I know exactly why Alan wanted me to have his lantern.

"Ring, end."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Initiative

27th August
05:38 GMT -5

Note to self: don't try looking into the soul of a man made of clay.

I collapse into my chair on the bioship, close my eyes and press my hands against my temples. When we confronted Clayface in the storm drains I thought that taking a look would be useful for intelligence purposes. It wasn't as if he was an immediate threat to anyone down there. One blast of orange confusion later and I recovered just in time to get slammed against the walls. That didn't hurt, but it did distract me from the fight until my team mates were downed, at which point they became my priority.

Taking on Clayface without specialist equipment isn't a great idea, but once my mind stops spinning I should be able to put something together. I am slightly worried that this version appears able to take on additional material; he was leaving blobs of mud around the place but wasn't any smaller afterwards. Why were we even engaging it? I thought Batman said that he just wanted us to track it?

The only vaguely coherent thing I got from that ill-advised use of Ophidian's Eyes was a series of fractured images of a woman I recognise as Talia al Ghul. In this timeline she and Batman broke up about a year ago. Since this version of Matthew Hagen works for the League of Shadows, he'd probably know her. Not sure why she was the only thing I could see, I usually get some kind of narrative and an idea of the way the target thinks about things.

"-point of putting on a clean costume when I'm not fresh?"

"Oh, Wally, you're always fresh."

I open my eyes.

"At least you have a clean costume."

Cleaning duty it is, then. I raise my left hand.

"Yeah, an old back-up! No stealth mode! It stinks!"

Ring, sort them out before my headache gets worse.

A beam strikes Wallace right in the lightning bolt, and a wave of orange disintegrates all of the residual clay. Next, it hits Kon, where it removes a lump of the caked on mud before disintegrating the rest. The removed blob floats over to me.

Ring, analyse.

Substance contains Aluminium, Oxygen, Silicone, Hydrogen, Iron, Magnesium, and various other elements. It is clay, and matches the chemical composition of local clay.

"Thanks Oh El!"

I rub my forehead with my right hand. "Don't worry about it."

Anything special about this clay?

Observed phenomena have no basis in conventional chemistry.

Right, right. Of course, the problem there might be me. I keep thinking that clay shouldn't be able to do that. I remember that the comics had a load of different Clayfaces, but the only origin I remember is the one from Batman: the Animated Series. Some sort of beauty product, wasn't it?

"So what do we do about the creature?"

Robin has never encountered Clayface before, so Hagen must have been transformed sometime between his last encounter with them and now. I doubt Robin would remember him though; he and Batman tend to go through henchmen rather quickly. I only know his former face because I made a point of looking him up.

"Batman wanted us to track it."

Well remembered, M'gann.

"Why settle for that? Okay, sure, it got the drop on us. But now we know its tricks!"

:-|

Kaldur, slap Wallace for me would you?

"Yeah! We split up!"

:-[

Kaldur?

"Then whoever finds old 'Clayface' radios the team."

Wait, what? Why is Robin-?

"We converge and kick some clay-butt!"

!-[

Kon, we're going to be having a talk about this.

"What do you think, Aqualad?"

"What? Oh. Yes… It seems we have a plan."

}:[

"Oh, we most certainly do not!"

The clay sample I was analysing moves aside as I rise out of my chair, and land with some force in the front of the ship.

"Are you seriously saying that you want to attack Clayface using exactly the techniques that just failed. He cannot be meaningfully hurt by kinetic force. And you think splitting up will improve our chances!?"

No sound. They're all looking at me, though.

Think calm thoughts.

>:[

I point at Wallace.

"Kinetic force."

I point at Kon.

"Kinetic force."

I point at M'gann.

"Mostly, kinetic force."

I point at Robin.

"And unless you've changed your utility belt load out without telling me, kinetic force! Now, does anyone have any ideas for fighting a thing made entirely of clay that are actually sensible?"

Stunned silence.

Oh, Kaldur's woken up.

"Could you track it with your ring?"

"No, because it's got exactly the same chemical composition as Gotham mud-"

I bring my clay sample to float in front of me, and wave it at him.

"-and Clayface can change his shape at will. No constant unique physical characteristics."

He looks down for a moment.

"Is there something you would like to suggest?"

"As I see it, we have two options for fighting it. We can bake it hard, or we can try and mix it with so much water that it can't maintain its integrity."

"How would we do that?"

"Can you use your water bearers to force water into it?"

"Possibly. But what is to stop it simply reforming?"

"Not much. I'm hoping that it needs a certain amount of clay in one place in order to think complex thoughts. But for my preferred option, Robin-"

I shift my attention from Kaldur to him.

"-do you know where you can lay your hands on some thermite at short notice?"

He grins.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Clueless

14th April
Nugh?

"Pffffffffffff!"

What the heck?

Sand?

What?

The cold sand under my right hand shifts slightly as I push myself into a kneeling position.

What?

Dark, I was expecting. Sand, not so…

"Oh!"

Right, dream. Chu.

I push backwards, onto my bare feet.

I've never been able to get this lucid dreaming thing to work for me before, but let's try…

"Clean!"

Sand sprays off me in all directions, nearly causing me to lose my lips as the sand in my mouth leaves by the nearest available exit.

Alright, that worked. Now, what do I… Whaw.

Looking down, I'm not standing on the ground anymore. I'm floating just above it. There's a small indentation where I was standing, and my feet are surrounded by a corona of orange light.

Flying dream. I love flying dreams. Even that one time I was riding on a dragon's back to do it.

I grin, and look at the sky.

Go go go!

Dust is blown away from me as I rocket into the sky. Within a few seconds I'm too high up to see the crater I made. I stop, and turn slowly around, taking everything in. A bit hard to see in the dark…

Haha! I control this dream!

The clearly illuminated desert dunes stretch away in all directions. Kinda dull, actually. No, I'm not wasting this!

I dive back for the desert floor, grinning like a loon. As I hit the ground I want it to part before me, and then like Scrooge McDuck I dive through the densely packed silica grains in a subterranean 'U' before surfacing and hovering just above the ground.

The path of my passage is now shiny crystal, a bit like the passages used in Tok'ra installations. As I watch, a weak wind blows some of the sand around the entranceway down into it. I suppose it'll fill in completely before too long. A bit of a shame, that. I remember an episode of the Aladdin animated series where Mechanicles tried to turn the whole desert into glass. Crazy, yes, but pretty.

Wait a second. Why am I glowing orange?

I hold out my hands for a moment. There's a glowing orange ring on my left. I bring it closer to my face, and turn my hand so that the palm is facing me.



Orange power ring, of course! What better representation of a whim indulgence lucid dreaming than a device designed to make whatever the user wants to happen happen!

"Hello, ring!"

"Awaiting command."

Hmm. The voice reminds me of the AI from Flight of the Navigator. Not sure what I was expecting. Was that my first exposure to the idea of artificial intelligence?

This desert's a bit boring. Go somewhere else? Wait, what am I wearing? My summer pyjamas? Oh, hello arm, aren't you muscular today?

I hold my right arm out to the side, upper arm horizontal and forearm straight up. I roll up the short sleeve of my pyjama top and rotate my hand one hundred and eighty degrees, watching the muscles move as I do so. I move my left arm over -yep, it's the same- and gently rub my right bicep, marvelling at it.

Ring, remove my pyjamas.

Oh HELL yes.

My left hand traces the contours of my abdominal muscles as my right runs over my pectorals. Some sort of silver pendant sits between them on a chain. Ignoring it, I stretch, lean and flex, all the while taking in the GLORY that is ME. I run my hands over the unfamiliar muscles on my back. No body hair? Odd, but somehow appropriate, like a body builder but less deformed. I bend and tense the muscles in my legs, lightly massaging my thighs and calves. Also good.

Spoiler: Not for the faint of heart

Penis looks the same, with the slightly discoloured patch on the left side of the head still visible. Looks like I evened up my scrotal balance though.

God, this is great.

Okay, clothes. Something classy. Oh yes, this is a nice suit.

I rub myself against it, taking a moment to relish the feel of the material against my smooth skin. Closing my eyes and stretching my arms out to the side. No glasses, but my vision is perfect. The feel of wind through the fingers is like nothing I've felt before. I can hear the faint sound of sand grains sliding past each other. I can smell the arid desert air.

I shake slightly at the overwhelming sensuality of it all.

Huhuhuhurrrr.

**Ohh, my head… Where am I? This can't be Mars…**

My eyes snap open.

What was that? Hello?

**One moon… white sand… Oxygen!**

Hello?

**Hello?**

I receive an impression of surprise.

**Who's there?**

**Ring, what's happening?**

**What ring? Who is this?**

**You are engaged in telepathic communication.**

Oh.

**Who was that?**

I want to go to wherever the person I'm talking to is.

The scenery shifts. I'm now facing a large dune, and just in front of me standing on the ground is… A young woman with long red hair and green skin.

Wait a minute! That's M'gann! The Martian girl from the Teen Titans comics!

 

[Mr Zoat]

Tracers

5th September
09:54 GMT -5

Wallace looks uneasy at the furry objects in the basket. "This doesn't feel very scientific."

I sigh, and lower the bat. "It's not. I already know that the Danner Formula worked on them just fine. But yesterday I had to explain to Batman why I decided to build a giant naked statue of myself in the middle of an enemy country. I need this."

We're standing in the training area. The female rats which I treated with the Danner Formula had their litters while we were on the Bialya mission, and their offspring showed superrodent strength and fortitude from birth. Taking a bit of a risk, I commanded the ring to replicate the physiological alterations upon their mothers. They were already suffering from suckling their Dawn-Rat offspring, and leaving them in that situation seemed unnecessarily cruel.

It worked.

Wanting to check a wider variety, I took a random selection of other rats and upgraded them as well.

Now, we're going to play rat baseball.

"Remember, don't put your hand anywhere near their mouths."

Wallace looks at me, then back to the basket. I raise the bat, and take a stance.

His hand moves.

"Recognised, Troia, Ay zero five."

What?

"Hey guys, what are you do-?"

I turn to the zeta tube as the rat flies past me and hits the wall. Edgar McScurry drops to the floor and we all watch as he rights himself, sniffs the air and then scurries along the floor. My grip on the bat relaxes.

"And.. why were you going to hit that rat with a baseball bat?"

I make the appeal gesture. "Because the shop didn't have a cricket bat. Bloody Americans."

She's wearing her black star-studded armour and mithril bracers. Finding out that mithril exists here was a bit of a surprise. Finding out that Diana's gold armour is actually made of orichalcum was even more so. I'd thought that White Wolf made that stuff up for Exalted. But no: take a normal -if highly refined- metal, add a little magic and boom, super tough armour. I've got to add that to Sephtian's slate.

Before Edgar can reach the exit and give Teekl even more cause to shun my company, I grab his tail with an orange tentacle, lift him into the air and ShockCrown him before he can break free. I was a little alarmed to discover that these rats are now strong enough to break my weaker constructs, but I suppose that was sort of the point of the process. I float him over to the basket. Strong though they are, it doesn't seem to occur to them that they can get through a solid looking obstruction.

"Paul…"

Whaw. That's exactly the tone Diana uses.

"Short version: Alan gave me a copy of the formula that gave Hugo Danner super strength. I tested it on some rats, it worked. The bat wouldn't have hurt him."

"You made.. super rats?" She looks more disturbed than impressed.

"Yes!"

I raise my right fist in exaltation.

"NOW THE WORLD WILL TREMBLE IN FEAR BEFORE MY RODENT MINIONS!"

Donna and Wallace blink at me. Wallace waves a finger. "Ah, I'm not gunna help you with that."

"Was a joke, guys. Anyway, works on rats. Had a super strong Blue Jay flying around for a while. Not.. sure.. where that went. Monkey trials struck me as a really bad idea."

I pause, waiting for a response. Donna appears to decide that it's her turn. "So you can make super strong animals? Is that.. good?"

"The Danner Formula normally only works on foetuses. I now know how to make it work on adult organisms. I can make any baseline Human as strong as Hugo Danner was."

"Alright, but what do you need me for? I'm skipping Chemistry revision to be here."

"Eh, Wallace can help you with that."

Wallace grins at her. "I'm, like, the king of chemistry. I can totally help you with that."

"Your name's really Wallace?"

He slumps slightly. Whoops. "Yeah."

"Well, thank you, Wallace. That's very kind of you."

And he's fine again. I hold up my left forefinger. "Ah. Just a moment…"

Kon, Kaldur and M'gann walk in from the habitation area, with the sphere rolling along just behind them.

Tingle tingle.

M'gann's carrying Teekl, who turns her head to peer around the room. After her telepathic confrontation with Doctor Jones and my creation of offensively strong food animals, Teekl's been spending most of her time with M'gann.

"Okay, Kon, do you want the good news first, or the bad news?"

"Ah." He looks at M'gann and Kaldur, then back to me. "Bad.. news?"

"Right, oh-kay."

I float up into the air. Sooo good to have a full charge again.

"After our encounter with Mister Twister, you made it clear to me that you.. were unhappy, not having the full range of Kryptonian powers. I've been working on the issue." I raise my hands, and form two images. "Eye on the left is yours. Eye on the right, Kal-El's."

I trigger a zoom to various points of interest.

"As you can see, near enough identical. Your ability to perceive different wavelengths is almost exactly as good as his, as is your magnification. But."

The image pulls out and extends into the brain.

"Your visual cortex, his visual cortex. As you can see, noticeable differences in structure." I point with my right hand. "This bit here, as far as I can tell, is the capacitor for his heat vision. You don't have one. Your visual cortex is almost entirely Human. So, bad news, I'm sorry, but unless I changed the structure of your brain -which I won't, by the way- there's no way to give you heat vision."

He looks down, slumped, and nods.

"I'm still working on flight. Now, good news. I've found a way to upgrade your strength."

His head comes straight up. "Really?"

I move my arms out to the side. "No, I'm winding you up."

His face falls.

"No no no, that was a joke! That was a joke. I've done it, with a little help from Wallace, Alan and a guy named Abednego Danner."

The eye images are replaced by a cut away diagram of Kon's body, with Kryptonian, Human and Chimeric -presumably Genomorph- components in different tones.

"See, originally, I was trying to see if I could get your Human components to have the same strong nuclear force control as your Kryptonian parts. Couldn't do it. But, it occurred to me, I'd be better off studying existing metahumans, and seeing if I could replicate their abilities."

I float over to him, touching down a metre away.

"And with the Danner Formula, I have a way to upgrade your Human components. Can't promise that you'll be exactly as strong as Superman, but you'll probably be close."

He's smiling.

"And that's why Donna's wearing her armour. You spar today, she'll need it." I extend my hands forward, towards his chest. "So, you want me to do this?"

He looks a little stunned, in a happy sort of way. He nods.

"Yes."

Good day, good day.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Exaltations

8th September
13:08 GMT -5

The only good thing about monitoring a phased military stand down in a country on the other side of the planet is that when night falls you can go home and still have some day left. I think I'm going to be abusing the ring's 'don't need to eat or sleep' function. I had thought that I'd be working in an office with representatives of North and South. Instead, I spent most of it in front of a room full of press people, announcing a confirmation of each stage as it happened, as well as fielding their questions. The recording of me listening to 'There she is!' was released on VidULike and has now gone thoroughly viral. There's remixes, mash ups, extended cuts and the last mutation I saw had the music edited out and replaced with a porn sound track which I turn off once I see the Rhelasians. After I watched that, I stopped looking.

There were a few people dressed up as Doki and Nabi outside, and they were eventually joined by people dressed as me.

I have cosplayers now.

That's a thing.

Guy turned up for a bit around local midday. Not sure what he was planning, but it gave me a break so I didn't really care. When I came back, he was trying to dodge answering questions on the relationship between our Corps. I feel a bit bad about that. He's clearly been ordered not to say anything. News programs have been making the whole thing more interesting by splicing in parts of our dinner with Miss Grant. I guess that either she made the recording off the clock or GBS sold it on. I think we come across fairly well, and the people running the stall seemed happy enough about it.

Diana's finding the whole thing a little amusing. Her only punishment for me 'coming out' was to make me spend an hour screening her fan mail so that I'll 'have a better idea of what I've let myself in for'. If I ever see a picture of a fat hairy naked guy again, it'll be too soon.

Haven't heard anything back from the Taiwanese police yet. Bane's employees are in their care. I checked, and they are being treated properly. Well, aside from being made to go through Venom withdrawal cold turkey, but I can live with that. Mister Huang hasn't woken up yet, and I've set the ring to alert me when he does.

I'm in the base's kitchen. No one else is here, and I want to eat something. Something not Asian. I don't mind it exactly, but the flavours just clash in my mouth and I haven't worked out the exact mechanics of eating some of it yet. I check, but the last of the chilli is gone from the freezer. What do we have? Nothing that looks appetising. Right, head into Happy Harbour, buy some fresh fish and vegetables, come back. If I stick some potatoes in to roast now, they should be ready when everything else is. The ring makes peeling easy, and lets me skip the usual pre-boiling and feathering with a burst of microwave radiation and a slight application of force. Olive oil, heat resistant dish, oven on to gas mark 6, oh. Right. Electric oven. Chart on the wall says gas mark 6 equals 200o​C, which translates into Imperial as 392o​F. In it goes.

Ring, transition to the training area.

Compliance.

The scene shifts and oh. Kaldur's back. "Hi Kaldur, how's..?" I look at the object he's holding in his right hand. He notices what I'm looking at, and raises it slightly. "Is that.. actually.. Ocean Master's trident?"

"Yes. My king did not want to keep it in Atlantis, and since we were the ones to defeat its former owner…"

That's a little weird.

"You know.. the only one of us who can use it is you, right? Are you.. actually.. planning to?"

"I have not yet decided. It is a powerful weapon. I will need to train with it before I make a decision."

"It's not booby trapped or anything, is it?"

"No, it was checked thoroughly, and by mages of proven loyalty. I do not believe that Ocean Master would have considered planning for his own defeat worthwhile."

"How.. is..?"

Should I be asking that? I look away for a moment, and Kaldur does likewise.

"He is… There is no immediate danger of Ocean Master dying. King Orin has expressed a desire for a full trial once he is well enough to go through it."

I've still got his hands in subspace. With all the excitement in Asia I completely forgot about it.

"Before I forget, there's a few things I need to talk to you about. Got a moment?" He nods. "Alright, first, I've still got Ocean Master's hands."

His eyes widen slightly.

I wave my hands in a warding gesture. "I picked them up after I cut them off, and with one thing and another I haven't got around to returning them. They're perfectly preserved… Ah, would they be able to reattach them?"

He blinks, trying to come to terms with the idea of me carting around a man's hands. "Possibly. Now that he is out of danger…"

"Who.. would I talk to about that?"

We look at each other for a moment. I'm starting to feel like laughing.

He shakes his head slightly. "I honestly am not sure. I suppose it would be the physician responsible for his care. If you go to the palace and ask for Tuvul'Orr, they should be able to direct you."

"Thank you. I'll do that after lunch. Second thing, ran into Red Arrow yesterday. There's a-" I wave at the computer console. "-mission report, you should probably read. In summary, League of Shadows tried to violently break up the Rhelasian peace summit and we stopped them, but… When Red Arrow fought Onyx, she said something about them having a source inside our team. Now, I haven't put anything about that in the report. I've checked our electronic systems, nothing there."

He nods in understanding. "That would just leave the people."

I shake my head. "I don't think there's anything to it. I think she was just trying to wind him up, but, your call."

His eyes flick down for a moment. "I suppose we cannot rule out the possibility."

"I suppose not. Heh, I don't think I'd have believed my backstory if I hadn't lived through it. Alright, you want me to ask Diana to come here and truth lasso us all? I'll go first."

"With all due respect to your sponsor, I think it would be more prudent to investigate quietly. If there is a mole, I have no wish to tip him -or her- off."

"Okay, if that's how you want to do it. But if we're investigating, we need to get lassoed. I don't doubt your honesty and I don't think that you doubt mine, but if we're being thorough…" He nods. Glad he's not arguing about that. "I should be able to get hold of her this evening. Alright, last thing. Has Batman said anything to you about the process for us getting new members?"

"No, he has not. Do you have someone in mind?"

"Yes."

I call the grey with orange sigil notebook out of subspace. Turns out that the rocket motor shut down as soon as I put the missile there. I desire, and the ring generates a copy of my research before returning the original to subspace. I hand the copy to Kaldur.

"This, is Robert Marrack."