With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Twelve)

[Mr Zoat]

26th April
15:09 GMT +3

There's a general bowing from my Amazon compatriots. At least, those not already face down on the floor. Even Donna gives him a politely reverential nod.

I cock my head to the right, and jab my right forefinger at him a little uncertainly. "Apollo, right?"

He grins broadly, throwing his golden-tanned arms out to the side. "I am indeed he! And you-" His right index describes an arc pointed in my general direction. "-must be Eris' little boytoy. Pavlova or something, isn't it?"

A college student compared to Zeus' university student, Apollo is second only to his father for putting it about, though it seems that before reaching the modern era he either grew up or learned to use contraception. Sustained Mage Slayer fire would probably hurt him, but Menalippe was quite clear that attacking the Olympians isn't on. Instead, I send a filament outside the palace, up the wall and further up into the sky, generating a large Discordian Chao in the sky.

Some jokes are only funny once.

I take a deep breath, and Hippolyta looks at me with growing concern. "Lord Apollo. Welcome to Themyscira."

He turns his full attention to her, walking past me and-. Oh, he actually shoulder-nudged me. He actually-. Oh, okay.

"My pleasure, dear niece. I believe I can explain the remaining facts which your investigator failed to uncover."

Hippolyta bow-nods. "Please do."

"Diana's creation is of course unblemished by any power beyond those you know. Grandmother Gaea, my aunts Hestia and Demeter and my sisters Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite. But even in his prison, Cronus-."

"Used a stolen part of Cottus' body to eavesdrop on what happened in Gaea's temple, and later used sympathetic magic to duplicate the ritual to create Donna."

"Ah." His head half-turns back to me, his grin a little less sure. "You knew."

"I wasn't certain, but I could see where you were going with that. I didn't say anything because I didn't have proof. And it didn't make any sense to me. What did he hope to gain? Where did he get the power from? And why didn't anyone spot what he was doing?"

"What he hoped to gain was a powerful demigoddess servitor. Obviously." He tosses his hair and returns his attention to the throne. "Cronus didn't merely duplicate the ritual, he altered the magics the goddesses employed so that they could not tell one nascent demigoddess from the other. They… Inadvertently empowered both."

Donna nods. "So it was Cronus."

Apollo turns to her. "He arranged things, certainly. But don't feel down. The same magics animate you.. that animate Diana." He turns back to the throne. "For the most part."

"But that was eighty six years ago. Donna's not eighty six."

He doesn't look around this time. "Cronus arranged for his new daughter to appear in the hands of a group of his cultists, who kept her in suspended animation while he worked out what to do with her."

Donna shakes her head. "What do you mean?"

"Can't you tell? You know how slavishly Devastation hangs on his every word, his every order. His intent was for you to be not the spirited young woman that you are, but rather for you to be as she is. He simply didn't understand the magics he had evoked, so desperate he was for any slight advantage."

"So… Why let me go? I mean, if he couldn't trust me…"

Apollo grins again. "Dumb luck. A gas main leaked and met a spark. The cultists looking after you were all killed and their spells of binding broken."

"And of course, if they'd just brought you up normally you'd probably have been happy to serve their cult." Donna glances at me, clearly unhappy that I said it but not able to honestly contradict me. "Just goes to show that a being can be ancient and powerful-" I smile at the back of Apollo's head. "-and still understand nothing."

"I'd say-" He looks Donna over with a lasciviousness that annoys me. "-that he knew exactly what he was doing. The error probably came from the cultists. Perhaps he tired himself out in the rite and then couldn't direct them in the next stage. Who can say?"

Donna nods slowly. "And I doubt that I'll ever be able to ask him in person. Not that I'd want to."

"I'm quite glad to hear it. I believe that he used what he learned from your creation to create Devastation, substituting the magics of the goddesses for that of the Titans, the fragment of Cottus for his own blood."

"So… Devastation is my… Sister?"

Apollo shrugs carelessly. "If you like. Though you are far more closely related to Diana."

Donna shifts her eyes from the god to her mentor, whose return gaze is filled with sororal affection. "I'm… Not really sure… How I feel. About any of it."

"Of course." Apollo nods, then looks around the gathering once more. "Well, my work here is done. Donna, if you want to talk, you know where my shrine is." He turns around and starts walking back down the aisle towards the entrance to the palace.

As he draws level with me I stick out my left arm and plant my hand in the centre of his chest. "Couldn't help but notice that you didn't say why no one knew about it at the time." His eyes narrow slightly. "Or did anything about it. I mean, Cronus giving his cultists a demigoddess? That could have gone very badly." I nod my head to the right. "And you didn't explain how you know any of that."

"Providing mortals with insight of matters that are beyond them is part of my portfolio."

I nod. "Why did Alkyone see a vision of Cottus, oh God of Oracles?"

The skin around his mouth tenses, as if he just smelled something repugnant. "I thought that it was fairly clear. I've had complaints about heroes receiving ambiguous visions and omens before, so I sent one that was completely straightforward. A vision of the person whom the recipient was supposed to go to for further guidance. Cottus could have told her what Cronus had done, then she could go out into the world and recover the newly made demigoddess, and bring her back to Themyscira to be raised in an environment of love. Alkyone wanted a daughter and we gods wanted Cronus to be denied a pawn. It would have been perfect." He turns around. "How could I have known that she was so deluded as to believe that the gods wanted her to kill a newborn?"

Hippolyta bites down her initial response. I watch her getting herself back under control. "An… Unfortunate miscommunication, my lord."

I take a step to the right, getting out of his way. "And of course you couldn't just step in and tell her directly, could you?"

"We-" His head snaps around, smug smile finally gone completely. "-don't-."

Eris' fist catches him right on the underside of his jaw, snapping his head back and sending him crashing to the ground, where the back of his head takes the brunt of the impact.

"You got my-?"

"Eris signal." She nods. "Nice."

"Glad you approve." I turn my head to the mildly stunned Amazon elite. "To complete his sentence: We don't fix our own mistakes. When things don't go the way we thought they would we cut and run. We whistle and walk away and let the chips fall where they may. My Queen, there are no outstanding loose ends."

Hippolyta's eyes dip to the stunned Apollo. "No. I suppose there aren't. I will need some time to consider. Captain, escort the Circle to the guest quarters and post a guard. I will..."

"Oi." Eris pokes me in the arm. "I'll grab him under his arms, you get his legs. There's a pig farm just outside the walls. If we hurry, we can toss him in the sty before he wakes up."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Zigzag

29th April
10:58 GMT +2

Jade looks around at the bustle of activity all across the archaeological dig site. "It's certainly classier than anywhere I've been on a date before. Not sure about the food…"

I shrug, left hand holding onto the box whose strap is slung over my left shoulder. "I can take you to somewhere in Shiruta afterwards. I should warn you though… I'm quite popular there. We might not get much privacy."

Though it hasn't been a priority of his reign so far, Adom is well aware of the value of tourism to the Kahndaqi economy. He also knows the location of a great many valuable sites that have been lost in history, though I know for a fact that there have been clashes with Cairo University's Archaeology department about how to treat them. For an archaeologist, historical sites should be preserved as much as possible. For Adom, a place sacred to the gods he worships should be repaired, repainted and put back into use. What exactly is to become of the now partially buried Temple of Zehuti hasn't been agreed on, but for now it serves our purpose nicely.

I frown as we head towards the recently excavated entrance. "I.. thought you said you didn't want to-."

"I didn't say we were. But this is."

"Look, I've had enough criticism about my romantic intention communication failures that-."

"I never said that I wouldn't flirt with you." She's not looking at me, but she is smiling.

I look directly at her, then wave at the archaeology student beyond her who's excitedly pointing his camera phone at us. "I said I was interested, you said it was against your professional ethics."

"It is. We were the League of Shadows, not the League of Ninja.. Escorts."

"But you're not an assassin any longer." That gets an eyebrow. "Not professionally. This is a.. hobby thing. The rule doesn't need to apply if you don't want it to."

We pass under the awning and start down the slope into the Temple proper. "Date with Sivana go that badly, huh?"

"There was a near-unstoppable time travelling gravity manipulator and Thaddeus Junior and Georgia stole everything from my subspace pocket." Jade stops and this time looks at me with genuine alarm. I shrug. "They gave it back, but it was pretty unnerving."

Got back everything the breach of the warehouse complex didn't completely burn up or melt to sludge, anyway. After their mother glowered at them for a while I got what certainly sounded like a genuine apology… Which -given how they normally behave- is probably all I can hope for.

I pull ahead of Jade slightly as we reach the first chamber. "Beautia and I will be meeting up again. I just want to be clear that you have… First refusal." She doesn't say anything. "How's the bodyguarding thing going?"

"It pays the bills."

"No problems with the other henchmen?"

"Not after they found out I'd been to Belle Reve. Besides, I'm not supposed to get involved in the 'family business'. I'm just temptation-free protection for the boss's daughter." Her face stills for a second, and the next thing I know her sai is out, fully extended at thin air. Her eyes have narrowed. "I know you're there."

"Between you an' the Bat, think I need to work on me hidin' spells."

John… Appears. It isn't the shift that I saw when Thaddeus turned off the invisibility generator. The best way I can describe it is the reverse of what Granny Weatherwax did in Masquerade. Parts of wall and floor I was perfectly aware that I was seeing before suddenly come together in my mind as being parts of John. He holds his hands open and to the sides, trying to make clear that he isn't a threat while at the same time not deigning to pay her knife much attention.

Wait a second. No cigarette. The rings run full scans on our surroundings, bands of orange light running swiftly over everything. My rune stone comes out of one of my pouches and I turn up my empathic vision, taking a good look in all directions.

"What's wrong with you?"

"No cigarette." The stone is glowing… John usually makes it glow brightly, but the Scholars of Zehuti were big magic users back in Adom's time. This whole place sets it off. Scans don't show anything I wasn't expecting.

"Oh, come on. I can go five fuckin' minutes." His hands and eyebrows flick up for a moment in appeal at the gross slur on his personal habits.

"Almost certainly him."

"So does that mean I put the knife down, or stab him twice just to make sure?"

John smiles, right hand patting the left of his coat before tensing up and lowering itself again. "Where'd you find this one?"

"'This one' grew up in Gotham City." Jade lowers her sai and returns it to her coat. "John Constantine. The League had a file on you."

"Oh yeah?" The left side of his mouth turns upwards. "Anything good?"

Zatanna walks through from the inner chamber. "No one who has a file on you has anything good to say about you. I thought you realised that."

"Charmin'." He looks around the room, then turns and ambles towards the doorway to the inner chamber. "Adom's warmin' up the wards. We can get started in a mo."

Jade nods, then glances at me. "And the defences here are good enough..?"

I shrug. "If you know somewhere better…"

Zatanna nods. "We don't know enough about what we're up against to judge it perfectly. But this temple is as well protected as anywhere else we could go without rousing even more suspicion."

Adom stands as we enter, his normal black and gold costume covered by white robes. A display of modesty before one of the gods empowering him. Not something he does for anyone else. There's a smell of burned perfume in the air. "My preparations are complete. We may speak freely."

John nods, then looks at me. "Did'ja get it?"

I open another pouch and pull out a Golden Apple. "I asked when we were dumping Apollo in a pig pen."

"She ask what it was for?"

"I said it would be a surprise. She didn't seem to think it was such a big deal. Apparently she's got a whole grove of them."

"An' that'll work, will it?"

"We'll find out." Filaments take hold of my box, pulling out the prototype elemental rifle I received from Sephtian's workshop. "In theory, it's this simple." The Apple flickers as my constructs push, then deforms as the gold it's made of says that it should. The metal stretches over the chamber of the gun, making it the most bling firearm I've ever held. I hold it out to Jade, who takes it, works the mechanism then nods.

Zatanna makes a small beckoning gesture with her right hand and a small stone rises off the floor. "Dleihs fo redro."

A small golden barrier forms around the stone as it hovers in the air. Order magic isn't Zatanna's speciality, but we've been studying what Nabu might be able to do so much that she's picked up a few things.

Jade raises the gun to her shoulder, sights and fires. The stone explodes, its arcane shield doing nothing at all. She lowers the rifle.

Zatanna looks at her cautiously. "Remember, the aim isn't to kill him. He's holding my Dad-."

"I know." Jade nods. "My job is to disrupt his spells unless ordered otherwise. Then shoot to wound."

I nod. "You've had plenty of time to look over our plan so far. What do you think?"

"It's… Basically well thought out. But as far as the ideal outcome goes, I'm worried about what happens if your arcane mana draining device doesn't do the job. I think you need-."

I nod, looking down. I was worried it would come to that.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th April
17:07 GMT

"Again, boy."

Since I didn't want to disturb them if they were doing something delicate I transitioned myself into the next field and then walked over this way. Rob was visible for the whole of the distance, flying hither and thither in the air around the stone circle. The stone circle where Rob and Graham have their practice sessions is a good distance from any road, and since they don't customarily use giant glowing shapes high up in the air to fight with they haven't attracted the sort of attention that my sessions with Guy, John and Jordan have.

"Again."

That said, the brilliant flashes from Rob's conjured lightning blasts might end up changing that before too long. I haven't come back since the first time. It felt like I was intruding, though Rob hasn't hesitated to talk about it. Graham is a stern but fair taskmaster and Rob's combat magic has come along in leaps and bounds.

"Translocate."

Rob disappears from the air and reappears near the centre of the circle. Just in front of him I see the mist-filled uniform which makes up Graham Marrack's 'body', standing in the exact centre of the circle, hands clasped at parade rest behind his back.

"Call winds."

I brace as a gust of hurricane force air blows past me, clouds above visibly moving inwards towards the megaliths.

"Clumsy, boy."

Rob's actually panting. "Sorry, sir."

"Don't be sorry, just don't do it. Time?" Rob turns his left wrist to look at his watch. "No. Any fool can use a watch. Use your magic."

"Errr… Two hours 'til sunset?"

"Closer to three, but better than your last guess. Alright. You're clearly exhausted. We'll call it a day there, I think." Rob sags. "We've taken basic elemental casting as far as we reasonably can in this setting. We'll do something a little more sophisticated next Saturday. Pack to travel."

"Ah, okay?" He looks confused. "Can you..? I didn't think you could leave the circle?"

"Only on the mortal plane. It is well past time you were inducted into the mysteries of Otherworld."

"Oh. Ah. Okay. Sounds interesting."

I reach the edge of the stone circle and Graham's head turns in my direction. "Orange Lantern. Robert has informed me that you are the protégé of the Green Lantern." He pauses. "Though since there are now several perhaps for clarity's sake I should specify that I am referring to the one I fought beside during the Second World War."

Rob half-turns and gives me a nod.

"Yes, sir. I've been the fortunate recipient of a great deal of guidance from him."

"I remember him clearly. Good lad, I thought. My time on the Earth is nearly done, for this week at least. If you seek my counsel, speak swiftly."

"Actually sir, I just wanted to talk to Rob somewhere private. I don't want to keep you.. if it's uncomfortable for you."

"Not greatly. The living world has a.. colour to it my normal abode lacks."

Rob frowns. "Heaven doesn't have colour?"

Graham shakes his head. "We Marracks don't go to heaven, boy. Why do you think I want to show you Otherworld?"

"O-oh. Right."

As I understand it, studying pre-Christian magic might well result in a practising Christian going to the afterlife associated with that practice instead. Graham might well just be talking from personal experience and be mistaken about the general effect. Or it could genuinely be a core part of how their abilities work. "If it makes you feel any better, I'd sign up for a pagan afterlife any day of the week. The Angels are a bunch of fascists anyway."

"Think my vicar might argue that with you. Zatanna kind of warned me not to talk about Christianity with you?"

"Vicars, hah. An ignorant breed, for all their pretensions." Graham's eye-clouds glow slightly as he focuses on me. "No, you may speak."

Might want to give Rob a little longer on the 'not going to heaven' thing. If it really worries him we can see what alternatives we can arrange. "It's… Really somewhat private."

"Tchjk." Rob shakes his head. "Great granddad's dead. I don't think you have to worry."

"He might. But I know when to hold my tongue. Speak, Lantern."

Well. Poo. Still, if I'm going to do it there's no sense in dragging it out. "Zatanna and I have been researching techniques which could be used to remove Nabu from her father. Violently, if necessary."

His eyes widen. "What?"

I give him a small shrug. "Why so surprised? Did you think I would accept the status quo?"

"I… Shit… I just though-."

"Language, boy. Lantern, what has Nabu done?"

"What do you know about him?"

"He's an order-based elemental creature who relies on hosts to act in the world. I met him while Doctor Nelson was his host."

"Doctor Nelson gradually stopped using him, then towards the end of his life began looking for someone to take over the whole Fate thing. Sadly, he died before he could find someone willing. Last November, the Chaos Lord Klarion led a ritual which put the world's children on one Earth and the adults on another. To help stop it, my friend Zatanna put on the Helmet. Once the fight was over, he didn't want to let her go. Her father traded himself for her freedom. Since then, he has enjoyed not a single moment of freedom. That is not acceptable to me. As far as I know Nabu hasn't made any arrangements to secure substitute hosts-" Like William Zard, who was right there at Roanoke. "-and was aggressively disinterested when I offered to make him a golem body."

"Yeah… But… Don't.. the League, like..?"

"Not as far as I've seen. Current D-Day is the seventh of July. We intend to confront him, give him a last chance to stand down, then… If he doesn't take it, do whatever it takes to force him off. I would like you to participate. Having a thaumovore along would significantly increase our chance of bringing him down alive, which is my preferred outcome."

"Shit." Graham cuffs him around the back of the head. "Ah-! Um. But… You-. The League-. Wouldn't they-?"

"I don't know what -if anything- they're planning. But they seem to have accepted Nabu. My plan is to ambush him away from any support and have the fight finished before any help can reach him. I'm going to need a yes or no before I tell you any more."

"If I say 'yes', what happens?"

"We go and meet the rest of the group I've assembled, and bring you up to speed on the specifics."

"And if I say 'no'?"

"Then I go and fetch Zatanna and you forget this conversation ever happened. I'm sorry, but we can't risk a security breach."

"No, 'course…" He's looking at the ground, his head shaking left to right and back again. "But what's this going to do to… Like, us and the League."

"I don't know. Afterwards, I'll be leaving the Earth and Zatanna will be leaving the team. I don't think they'll be able to take any overt action against the participants due to how they lied to the world about what happened in the first place. However, I can't promise that you won't be punished in some way, particularly if we end up killing Nabu. Well?"

"I don't fucking know, alright?!" He turns away from me, shaking his head as he walks a few steps before turning back. "Great granddad? What do you think?"

"Boy, do you know how many times I have considered usurping control of your body and using it to grant me the freedom to move beyond these stones? To draw magic naturally once more and fight the good fight in the land of the living?"

Rob's eyes widen. "What?"

"I am the better mage, after all. Surely the world would be better served by me than by you? Logically, if I saved at least one more life than you would have done then the deed would be just, would it not? So: How many times? How many times do you believe that I have considered it?"

"I-I-I-um… Once or twice..?"

"No. NEVAH!" A crackle of lightning runs through his body. "My time is done. My life is over. I accept that. Life passes from one generation to the next. Great grandson, you are my heir as my own son never was. I will guide, I will steward, at your request, recognising the rightness of your independence. I will not make you my slave, fit to live only that you serve me. It would be a foul and unnatural act and Nabu should know better. If he has become so arrogant, so debased, then strike him down and worry not for the righteousness of your cause."

Rob just stares at him for a minute. Then his head dips.

"Right." He shakes his head again, then turns his attention to me. "Think I should… Probably meet everyone, then."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd May
07:54 GMT -6

I lean forward slightly towards the monitor. On the screen, Wallace approaches Challenger Mountain's front door before bottling out.

"June, how many times has he done that?"

"That's his fifth. I've got a bet going with myself that he'll get to seven before giving up completely." She tilts her head my way, eyebrows slightly raised. "Are you going to take mercy on him, or do you want me to turn the sprinklers on?"

"I'm genuinely curious as to why he's here." I tap my left fist against my lips. "I mean, I'm assuming that he's come in person because he doesn't want anyone else to find out, but I can't think of anything he'd want from me."

Sunset looks up from her tablet. "Maybe he just wants to talk to you because you're friends?" I blink. "Used to be, anyway."

"Mmmmm. No, I don't think so. Kaldur, maybe, or Artemis or Zatanna. But Richard loathes me and I doubt that I won any points with Mister Allen when I killed Klarion just outside his city."

"He's afraid, Corpsman."

I lift up my right hand slightly and stare at my ring. "Of what?"

"The lazy option, Corpsman? I'm disappointed."

Ugh, right. Using the orange ring to look at someone's desires came naturally to me. Using my yellow ring to look at someone's fears… And I do actually like Wallace. Instead, I take a snapshot of everyone's location. Chester and Vera are in the gymnasium, Chester to make sure that he's in top shape before I start giving him fieldwork and Vera to get used to her improved cybernetics. Mister Tawny is watching them and the Sphere is spending the day with Scott and Barda.

The Genomorphs are… Everywhere. With most of the heavy lifting done we've scaled back on the G-Trolls and brought in a new Genomorph type. G-Nisse are slightly larger and a good deal more physically adept than G-Gnomes, perfect for the sort of precision work this place now requires. Jean and Lynne are overseeing a 'session' in the basement. Probably shouldn't take Wallace in to see that. Neither Jade nor Miss Amane are here at present.

Wallace stops, turns around and starts towards the door for attempt number six. I turn away and head towards the door. "Sunset, pop outside and invite him up, would you? I'll be in meeting room two."

"And you can't do this because?"

I stop. "Because I'm big and intimidating while you've got that whole 'Magic of Friendship' thing going on."

"I'm not sure that's actually a thing here. And I'm still not totally convinced it was in Equestria, either."

"Look, he's clearly very intimidated and the only person he even knows here to be intimidated about is me. Please, go and say hello to him."

"Fine."

"Thank you." I walk out of the control room and head in the general direction of the meeting room. Ah, teenagers. Worth getting the practice in when it comes to handling them, and she's usually not too bad really. Of course, that could be something to do with never asking her to do anything she doesn't already want to do. I once read a fan fiction in which Twilight Sparkle was described as a 'pony shaped learning machine' and I think that Celestia has a 'type'. She already started building her own arcane laboratory and has a team of G-Dwarves transcribing and indexing every piece of arcane lore she can find. A worthwhile investment, to be sure.

"…in a minute. It's not that far to walk."

"Uh, yeah, okay."

Sunset and Wallace? What? I walk a little faster, pushing the door open with a gentle yellow beam as I reach it. Wallace is leaning against the wall on the far side of the room. He's wearing a green shirt over a white long-sleeved t-shirt, a brown coat folded over the back of the chair in front of him. He looks up as the door opens, his eyes dropping awkwardly away after a second of eye contact.

"Hey, Grayven."

"Wallace." I walk fully into the room before pulling out one of the reinforced chairs and sitting down. "Good to see you. Keeping well?"

"I've.. been better."

Not getting a clue here… "Your powers, they continue to work as they are supposed to?"

He brightens up very slightly. "Oh yeah. It's been great, being able to keep up with-." He glances at Sunset, whose attention is on her tablet once more. "Ah…"

I nod. "She knows."

Sunset pushes something on her screen. "Secret identities are dumb, and don't work against magic anyway."

"Right…"

No quip? No 'if my hair was made of bacon I probably wouldn't bother with a secret identity either'? Out of character. "Wallace." I clasp my hands together in front of me. "What brings you here?"

"I…" He takes a breath and then looks me full in the face. "I need your help. I've got a.. friend-."

I smile. "And this 'friend' needs advice on women? Well,-."

"No! Just.. don't interrupt, okay? This isn't easy."

"I apologise. Please, continue."

"Her name's Frances Kane. We were real close when we were kids-" I raise my eyebrows slightly but don't interrupt. "-but her family moved away and we sorta lost touch. I got a phone call from her last week. They were coming into Central City for a few days and she wanted to meet up. I said 'yeah', but then she didn't show."

"Okay?"

"She was in a car crash. Her dad and her brother died and she and her mom are in pretty bad shape. Her mom's out of surgery, but they can't operate on her."

He stops again, and this time it seems right to prod him. "Why not?"

"She's a metahuman. It looks like she can control magnetic fields, but right now she can't turn it off. Anything with iron in it that gets too close to her gets grabbed and anything electronic gets wrecked. You're the only guy I know who can stop her getting crippled for life. I don't know.. what's going on with you and the Light, but you helped me… Us, and M'gann.. thinks…"

"She thinks that I will continue to help you out of the goodness of my heart despite joining the opposition." I sigh. "She's incorrigible. Wallace, my fellow members of the Light would not want me to aid her. And not just to spite you, though that would be enough for several of them. They would say that if an alien such as myself heals the injured, then humanity will have less incentive to learn to heal itself, or correct defective.. cars, or roads, that cause these accidents. That through my actions and the actions of those like me humanity was being kept closeted, insulated from things that could harm it and allow it to grow and learn. Tell me: would you be asking for my help if you didn't know her?"

"I… I'm not…" He thinks for a moment, then slumps. "Probably.. not."

"Do you intend to find a way to help everyone else in a similar situation, now that your attention has been drawn to the matter?"

"I can't! I don't know how to do that!"

"No. You don't. But you come into my house… On the day my daughter is to be married-"

Sunset looks up. "No, she's not."

"-and you ask me to-."

For a fraction of a second there are two Wallaces, then there is just one in front of me. "You think this is funny?! If you're not going to help, fine, just say that! Don't make fun of-!"

"Of course I'll help, you prat." I rise to my feet. "Show me where they've got her."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd May
09:07 GMT -5

Sunset and I step out of the hush tube and into the medical wing of Star Labs Central City.

"Remind me why I'm coming?"

"You're working hard to learn magic so that you can use your skills to better the lives of others, correct?"

"If I'm honest-" A woman at the other end of the corridor spots us, her eyes momentarily widening in shock. I give her a wave. "-I think I'm mostly doing it because I enjoy it. But I think what I learn will help other people eventually."

"People could benefit a great deal from medical magic. In fact, I imagine that with a little encouragement doctors could comprehend the basics." I shrug. "If you don't want to help me with the more conflict-orientated aspect of my work, medicine isn't a bad area to get into."

"I guess…"

"You have a great deal to offer the world, Sunset. But you are actually going to need to offer it at some point." There's a whoosh of displaced air as Wallace appears. Since he couldn't-. I frown. Hey, what? "New costume, Kid Flash?"

He holds out his arms slightly so we can get a better look. "Yeah. Your brother made it. I was worried about giving up the New God protection, and…"

"Didn't want to keep wearing the suit I made. Fair enough. I burned my bridges and now I can sleep in them."

Sunset stops and squints at me. "What?"

"Never mind." I raise my eyebrows at Wallace. "So, where's the patient?"

He leads the way through the corridors, staff calming noticeably with him present. "She's in a… It's a cell they built to hold Doctor Polaris. It's the only way to stop her messing up all of the equipment. She's being medicated through a plastic tube they fed through her mouth into her stomach, but being unconscious doesn't seem to turn off her powers."

I frown. "They couldn't come up with a nonferrous needle?"

"Not quickly. And with all the blood she's lost an intravenous system might not work properly if they did."

I nod. "And they don't want to replace the blood because that will raise her blood pressure and risk breaching the clotting on her internal injuries. Can you give me a quick summary?"

"Ah… Her rib cage was basically crushed, and it's cut her lungs in several places. Worse on the right side. Her right upper arm was pretty badly smashed. Even if they didn't end up amputating it, she'd probably only ever get a fraction of her strength back. Her jaw's broken, her skull's probably fractured but they can't tell for sure because she'd mess up the machinery. She's got cuts everywhere but they've all scabbed over by now. We don't know about her spine."

"And her brain? If it's been damaged that may explain why her abilities are constantly on."

"She's concussed." He pushes through a set of double doors and into what looks like a rapidly converted high security area. Too many medics and pieces of equipment in too small a space. "And we can tell that because of how her pupils dilate. I didn't want to ask Miss Martian to take a look in case there was some sort of psychic feedback." He turns away, looking for someone. "Doctor Schmitz, can we just go in?"

A slightly overweight man in a lab coat turns around. Ah, the mad scientist bald-on-top-with-long-grey-hair combo. I image that STAR has a few of those around the place. He looks me over for a moment and then gives Wallace his full attention. "You'd better. She's stable at the moment, but…" He shrugs helplessly.

"Ah, Mister Grayven?" A short woman taps me on the arm to get my attention. "The room will have to be sealed once you're inside. This-" She holds up a microphone. "-will let you talk to us despite the magnetic flux."

I shake my head. "Thank you, but I have a power ring."

I walk towards what looks like a bank vault door. A technician looks up at me for a moment before pressing a button on his equipment. There's a clank and an oddly quiet klaxon wail. I look up at it and see that someone has shoved a sock in it. For a prison cell I suppose that you'd want it on full volume, but for a room people are having to go in and out of constantly it would get annoying very quickly. Once the door is open I step through and wait patiently for it to close once more. Through the inner door I can see a couple of nurses keeping careful watch on Miss Kane. She looks to be in a right old state.

Sinestro, scan.

Mister West's summary of her injuries was largely accurate. A picture appears in my mind. Internal bleeding is more or less stopped, but there's blood in her lungs and her brain is swelling dangerously.

Nothing we can't fix.

Explain to me exactly why you want to repair the girl.

Further damaging my relationship with the League -and my ex-team mates- serves no useful purpose. I still haven't heard from Zatanna about those arcane energy siphons I want to commission. Probably, that means she's been instructed not to contact me. If I do this, it may change a few minds.

It also lets you undermine their faith in their own cause. And your team mates' faith in the judgement of their superiors.

It's a fringe benefit. I never understood hero worship. Get me her medical records.

The door behind me clanks shut, then the inner door whirs into life as it opens up. The nurse steps away from the near side of Miss Kane's recumbent form, allowing me to come up alongside her. Now, how to build up enough fear..? From Wallace, from the nurse… Not enough. My being here is reassuring them too much, and it would interfere with my diplomatic efforts to taunt them into fearing more. Hm. I look down at Miss Kane's face and imagine Lynne in a similar position, her body smashed-.

Yellow light surges, her ribs expanding and realigning before being fused back into place. Next, I remove the blood from her lungs and fix the torn and damaged tissue. A blast at her brain undoes the bruising and swelling. Doesn't look like there's an appreciable amount of underlying damage, though there are one or two physiological oddities. Probably related to her metahuman ability. Log those. Last comes the right arm, shoulder bones and muscles. Then…

"Does she know?"

The nurses look at each other, then the one closest to me answers. "No. We didn't think it was a good idea, given the state she was in."

I could heal all of her minor injuries, but I think letting her lie here for a little while is probably for the best. "I imagine that her friend Wallace West will be along to visit her later. I would appreciate it if he were granted entry."

I don't wait for a response, but instead have Sinestro connect to the Mountain's systems and open a Hush Tube back out of the cell-ward.

"She okay?"

"She'll live. And retain full functionality. She's still unconscious for now." He sags, exhaling heavily as he does so. "But we need to talk about what's going to happen to her next."

"Ah… Look, I'm grateful and all? But I don't see what that's got to do with you."

"The Apokoliptian technology I use in Challenger Mountain is proof against the highest level of magnetic flux she's been observed producing. Is anywhere else? Anywhere she could live long term?"

"She needs to stay under observation…"

"And then?" I lean closer. "Have you checked the wreck of her car for signs of unusual magnetism?"

His face pales. "Oh God."

I straighten up. "If she can't get under control, then she'll be a danger to all around her. If she does this-" I look around the room. "-while in a drugged stupor, what happens when she sleeps?"

"Could.. you… Awaken her? That would work, wouldn't it?"

"Certainly. What's in it for me?"

He stares me in the eyes for a moment, then nods. "What do you want?"

I grin. "Someday, and that day may never come… I'll call upon you to do a service for me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd May
09:03 GMT -5

I point to the star chart being projected into the middle of the training area, my spirits falling further. "And here?"

Canis shrugs. "Perhaps? I was a cavalry commander, not a ship captain." Canis has a great deal of experience with alien civilisations. Unfortunately, most of it involves boom tubing in with a few hundred friends and looting the place. "The region here-" He reaches into the hologram with his right forefinger and indicates a radius. "-is known as The Waste. Any settlement here was taken as an affront to Great Darkseid and destroyed, the foolish people attempting it either slain or taken back to Apokolips in chains. Further out, we raided and brought ruination, but never in so focused a manner."

"What was the point?"

He frowns at me. He's not confused by what I've asked so much as by the fact that I'm asking. "To keep them afraid, of course. To remind them that every day they are given leave to draw breath by Great Darkseid, and should his merciless gaze fall upon them his gift would instantly be rescinded."

"Does he order each attack personally? "

Canis smiles, shaking his head. "No. Such matters are beneath his notice. At some point long before my birth he ordained that things should be so. And we faithfully carried out his commandment ever since."

"Faithfully?"

"We cry out his name, shout his praise and -time allowing- erect monuments to his fearsome magnificence."

I nod. From the comics it was never very clear what the peoples of Apokolips did from day to day. I'm getting a better idea now. "Now, the events which led to you being banished…"

"What is to say that you do not already know? I achieved a moment of perfect self-realisation, of communion with the greater spirit of Darkseid. I took my god-name, cut down my father and replaced him as general. My new status demanded greater targets so I ordered a raid on New Genesis itself."

"Did you have that authority?"

"We do not need special permission to fight and die for Darkseid. And I met with success! Their people cut down, their army routed, two of their sky cities left as burned out ruins!"

"And yet, you're here."

He shrugs. "Kanto has taken some exception to my ascension, and he is an assassin without peer. I cannot guard myself in my sleep. But I still do Darkseid's work, harrowing the weak and unworthy."

…

"Okay, so why don't we try tracking the world you visited after you were forced to-"

"Recognised, Kid Flash, B zero three."

"-quit your position."

Brut stirs himself as Wallace materialises in the tube's terminus. I imagine that when compared with the fast paced and highly dangerous life Brut and his master lived on Apokolips his time on Earth must be restful at best. He hasn't quite gotten to the point where he'll let the rest of us stroke him, but at least he doesn't bark or urinate at inappropriate times or places. Wallace doesn't warrant more than a quick sniff before Brut's head is once more resting on his forepaws.

"Good morning, Wallace." Oh dear. His posture is slouched and his face fallen. "What's wrong?"

"Anatole Sokolov's dead."

Ah. I nod. "I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know the two of you were close."

He trudges in our direction, looking over the star chart briefly and then dismissing it. "We weren't. I met him a couple of times when he was visiting Jay, but that was about it."

Canis frowns, this time in frustration. "Who is this person?"

Wallace looks at the ground for a moment. "Anatole was a Russian guy. A speedster like me. Ah, well, more like.. Jay, really."

"I don't know who he is either."

Wallace looks at me and gestures at the hologram with his right hand. "Mind if I..?"

I shake my head. "All yours."

He dismisses the star chart and calls up Jay's personnel file. "Jay Garrick, the first Flash." We get a picture of him in his prime. "Born, nineteen eighteen, started out as the Flash in nineteen forty. Far as we could tell, some time in the fifties the Russians got a hold of a copy of the formula he used to get super speed. Only… They didn't get a perfect copy. The first three Russian speedsters he met were Blue Trinity-" A picture appears showing Blue Trinity's members; Boleslaw Uminski, Gregor Gregorovich and Christina Molotova. "-and they ended up with crippling health problems as well as being mentally unstable. Anatole was part of the second group." Another picture, Anatole in costume with his Red Trinity team mates Bebeck and Cassiopeia. "They did better, but when they started showing the same symptoms as the Blue Trinity members they came to Keystone City to see if Jay could help them."

"And swore themselves into his service in return?"

"What?" Wallace frowns at Canis. "No. He just tried to help them. And it… Kinda worked." He presses another button, calling up a more recent image. "Until it didn't."

They look withered, and I know from when I read their files that their legs from the knee down are artificial. To say nothing of the constant tremors and headaches.

"I didn't know about any of this when I tried copying Jay's formula, but there's a reason -or rather, six reasons- why there hasn't been more interest in it. Get it wrong -like I did- and if needing a calorie rich diet is the worst that happens to you then you got off lucky." He steps back. "And the symptoms are progressive."

!!!

"You're not showing any-?"

"No, no." He shakes his head. "It just really brought it home, you know? Between that and Velocity Nine there's more examples of super speed gone wrong than gone right. My healing potion helped him, but it didn't make the symptoms vanish."

"Okay. Do you know what went wrong with the version of the formula the Russians used on him?"

"Yeah, for some reason? They weren't all that keen on talking to Jay about it."

"But would they be willing to now?" His face stills. "I mean, I could understand them… The super soldier producing part of the military, at least… Not being willing to help a defector. But if he's dead and the s-. Partner of the current Flash puts in an official request for information…"

He frowns thoughtfully. "You think?"

"They want one of theirs on the Justice League and this could win them points. They know that Jay isn't sharing with the US military." I shrug. "They might go for it. Might not, but it won't hurt to ask."

Wallace nods. "That's a great idea. I'll call Uncle Barry-."

"What happened to the blue ones?" Canis jerks his chin at their hologram. "Were they slain in battle?"

Wallace shrugs. "We don't really know. I mean, given how severe their symptoms were they'd probably be dead by now, but the last we heard of them was when they got shipped back to Russia after failing to stop Red Trinity coming over to our side."

"Then they're the first thing we ask about."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th May
18:29 GMT +10

The swirling lights from Canis' Boom Tube fade behind us as we walk across a small plaza opposite the Transfiguration Cathedral in Khabarovsk. Fifteen hour time difference. We're going to be feeling this in the morning.

Richard, Wallace and I attract a few stares from the passers by. They give us a little space but they're clearly not afraid. Then Canis comes through the Boom Tube on Brut's back and they start backing up in earnest. I'm not completely clear why he wanted to come. He said it was because our conversation made him aware of how ignorant he was of Earth's history, but that didn't ring entirely true with me. Maybe he's finding the lack of violence just as trying as his steed does.

Brut pads towards the curved wall of the… I don't know what that's supposed to be. "Is this some sort of monument?"

Richard has his arm computer up, a local map on the screen. "It's the local Great Patriotic War memorial. 'Great Patriotic War' is what Russians call World War Two."

"And you're not allowed to smash it."

Canis doesn't respond. He just nudges Brut forwards, heading for the start of the curved wall. I suppose that he wants to do a circuit. As he reaches the start of the curve a young woman walks around from the far side, her attention focused on the phone in her right hand. She only regains her awareness of her surroundings a fraction of a second before walking into Brut's muzzle, a sharp intake of breath marking the change.

Canis looks down at her, head tilted slightly to the right. "Human. Move." She backs up, cringing as she does so. Canis makes a flapping motion with his left hand. "To the side." She scurries crablike out of the way. Canis nudges Brut back into motion, then something appears to occur to him. He leans forward in his saddle. "Good Human. Well done."

Richard smiles. "At least he didn't call her a Lowlie."

Wallace turns his head around, taking in our environment. "Your contact said he'd meet us here, right?"

"Yes, but he's on a bit of a public relations campaign so you should probably expect-."

We all hear the roar of their thrust packs before the Rocket Reds appear, blasting heads first through the clouds before cutting their engines, orientating themselves feet first and switching to gravity repulsion. They descend slowly and elegantly to the ground just in front of us. They get greeted with cheers from the gathering crowd, and cameras start flashing. This is far from the first time I've seen the Russians' Advanced Suits, but they still look really nice. I don't think they've been deployed in any combat zones yet but the Russian government has been making every effort to publicise their existence in the run up to the Victory Day Parade next week. In virtue of the fact that they're going to be acting as our escorts, the long-barrelled energy weapons usually attached to their arms are absent. Since this is an official mission and not purely a photo opportunity they're keeping their visors down, falling into parade rest with a gap of about four metres between them.

Then Dmitri Pushkin plummets to the ground between them. His personal armour actually looks in some ways less advanced than the Advanced Suits. The chest plate is a large solid looking plate while theirs are made of overlapping segments. His shoulder guards are large and have visible articulation points, while theirs are far more streamlined. The most flexible parts of his body are covered in what looks like thick lycra when contrasted against the clearly armoured parts of the Advanced Suits.

But the appearance is deceitful, as him casually straightening up without leaving a crater in the ground demonstrates. I know for a fact that his armour is about fifty times more resilient than theirs at its weakest point and contains electronic systems a couple of hundred years more advanced than theirs. I'm actually a little curious where the Russians got that stuff from, because there's no way that Russia has the technology to invent it themselves. I don't think anywhere on Earth does.

His face plate flickers and his face appears. The helmet isn't designed to be removed while the armour is in use, but it can use integrated holographics to display his face. It's a little disturbing, actually. The curve it follows makes it look like some sort of early motion capture thing, nearly there but subtly off and not quite natural. He smiles, throwing his arms wide. "Hello, my friends! Welcome to Russia!"

"Thank you for inviting us, Sergeant. May I introduce my colleagues-."

"Kid Flash! And Robin, the Boy Wonder!" Wallace smirks at the use of Richard's extended appellation. I wonder where it originally came from? Sergeant Pushkin takes a few paces forward, his steps quiet despite the weight of his armour. "It is good to meet you!" He holds out his right hand, and I note that the Advanced Suit on the right is training its sensors on the scene. Probably taking a recording for publicity purposes.

Might be a bit cheeky, but that is why they agreed to do this. I step forward and take hold of his hand. I'm probably less well known around here than the other two, but I am still technically in charge of this expedition. I'm not wearing my power armour for the same reason that the Advanced Suits aren't carrying their guns so hopefully the visual distinction is sufficiently clear for them. "Good to meet you at last. I've heard a good deal about you."

"And I of you, my friend." His grip is firm without being crushing. If I understood the description correctly his suit uses a system not unlike the way Kryptonian resilience works to provide strength boost in every direction, rather than relying on reinforcing Human muscle systems as the other types do. It's also supposed to provide tactile feedback, though I haven't checked that for myself. "I believe we have you to thank for our warm weather this spring."

"So they tell me."

I didn't think much about it at the time, but making the arctic colder naturally caused the air over it to contract and draw in additional air from the surrounding area. The result wasn't that great, but -according to a meteorologist who had a minor rant on the subject on the League's message board- air was sucked up from the equator, resulting in slightly warmer than usual weather in both Russia and Canada. Technically, the same thing is happening now as the Ice Fortress turns its guns on the Antarctic, but with the nearest land mass being further away and over a wide ocean it will be far less noticeable.

I step aside, nodding Wallace forwards. "Hi.. Sergeant. Thanks for doing this."

"It is not a problem! We are happy to help our American colleagues!"

I can't say that the Director sounded quite as enthusiastic as Sergeant Pushkin about it when I spoke to him over the phone, but I can't imagine that he'd say this if he didn't have authorisation. Heh, I think a childhood of watching narrowly post-Cold War cartoons has me braced for some sort of daft double cross.

Richard takes his hand next. "I'm sure the Justice League will appreciate this."

"I hope so. Ah, I have a daughter your age. Maybe I could introduce you before you leave?"

"Ah…"

"Of course, she cannot become Rocket Red Girl Wonder! Hahah!"

"Ah. Yeah." He and Wallace share a slightly uncomfortable glance.

"Because she is a girl and we only have adult sized suits! And because her mother would kill me." He turns his head side to side, then returns his attention to me. "If there is no one else, we have a car-."

My eyes widen as Brut leaps over the memorial. The Advanced Suits clock him almost immediately and instinctively jerk their arms up slightly before remembering that their guns aren't there. Canis will land almost exactly behind Sergeant Pushkin, which is exactly the sort of dick move I told him not to-.

Sergeant Pushkin rotates, right arm extended, and catches Brut in mid air by the left side of his neck and shoves him aside. As the great Dog starts to tumble Sergeant Pushkin moves his arm right, catching Canis in the chest and lifting him out of the saddle before setting him on the ground.

Canis blinks, stunned, as Brut rolls to his feet and shakes his head.

"You must be Canis! I was wondering where you were hiding! That was an amusing test of my reflexes!" Sergeant Pushkin leans closer to him. "But don't try that again or I will put you over my knee, boy."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th May
18:37 GMT +10

"So, ah… Who do I need to focus on pleasing in order to get into the Justice League?"

Richard and Wallace were ushered into one car and I into this one. They're not limousines, but they're perfectly comfortable. Cars to work in. They rather assumed that Canis would ride along on his own, which was completely accurate. He isn't really keen on Earth vehicles, preferring to ride or walk short distances and Boom Tube long ones. And haven't we had complaints about that. I asked, and while he's heard of quiet Boom Tubes he's got no idea how to make them.

Despite the fact that he's flying above the cars -either as air cover or to show off- Sergeant Pushkin's voice comes over perfectly clearly over the car's intercom. Which is interesting, because it doesn't have any radio capacity.

"It doesn't work like that. If you're actually able to help Kid Flash dig out the information he's looking for then their opinion of you will improve, but it will probably improve anyway as long as you don't let anyone actively obstruct him."

"Yes, but… Ah… Batman and the Flash are both founding members. Batman is the chairman of the League, which suggests that it is Robin I need to impress the most. But I was told that you are our fixer-."

"Whow, whow. I.. know enough about how Russian politics works to know that that's an overstatement."

"But, you were to make a recommendation. That was the deal you made in exchange for being allowed to transfer your flying fortress through the Russian side of the Bering Straits."

"Right, and I did. But I can't be seen to shill for you."

"I'm not sure that I understand."

"Any League member can nominate someone, but entry can only be granted through a unanimous vote. Formally speaking, since I'm not a Justice League member myself I can't nominate someone but Batman has been willing to look at people I've drawn his attention to. Your name and details were on a long list of people with useful skills that I gave to him and made available to other League members. However, if I actively campaign on behalf of a particular candidate or engage in horse trading it looks suspicious and risks setting people against you regardless of your qualifications. A nominee needs to avoid having anyone vote against them. One vote against, and you're not getting in."

There's no immediate response, so I have the rings feed me information on our route. Hard to tell exactly, but I'd guess that our destination is a group of buildings that the CIA believes to be some sort of intelligence storage facility. The route hasn't exactly been cleared, but some of the roads branching off the one which we're on have police temporarily blocking them.

"Horse trading? I'm not sure that I understand."

"Oh, sorry. Your English is so good that it slipped my mind that you might not know some expressions. 'Horse trading' refers to underhanded dealings or compromises. In this context, it could be getting Major Atom's support by promising to do anything I could to torpedo Major Force's application." Which -to be honest- I'd have cheerfully done anyway.

"Does that not happen anyway?"

"No. Since the League hasn't ever had political oversight, they've never had to temper their idealism. If it looked like you were causing that sort of thing to start happening, far more than one member would vote against you. If one or two people voted against you, you could build your reputation for a year or two and then apply again. If a lot of them vote against you, it wouldn't be that simple."

"I see. So, how do you rate my chances?"

"Better than most people's."

"Heh, not as good as yours, surely?"

Heh. That's funny because unless Nabu turns out to be a lot more reasonable than I think he is, Circe actually will get on the League before me.

"Don't sell yourself short. They already have three Lanterns, and if I'm off-world as often as the Greenies are then I'm a much less appealing prospect. No, your problem is that another of my recommendations was that they consider changing the structure of the League, which means everything I've said about their selection process might suddenly become invalid. And I know for a fact that Wonder Woman wants more women on the League, and Rocket wants more black people… And she's going to be getting upped herself before too long. I think I've convinced Batman that drawing on talent from a wider variety of countries is a good idea, but that means that you're competing against the best in the world rather than the far smaller pool you would have been otherwise."

"Ehh… It might have been better if you had waited a year before doing that."

"Hah, yes, you're not wrong."

"So, what are my problems? What do I need to do to convince them that they aren't really problems?"

"American superheroes act within a certain set of social assumptions. Someone from another country, particularly from the military, could be seen as a divergence from that."

"But Major Atom is a military officer. And Accomplished Perfect Physician is Chinese."

"Accomplished Perfect Physician actively fought against the Chinese military and was imprisoned by China for several years. The League aren't at all worried about him trying to do things the Chinese way because he prefers their way. Major Atom grew up in a country where superheroes operated independently. Even during the Cold War, there was never an American equivalent of the People's Heroes. Every group, the Justice Society, Infinity Incorporated, the Justice League and a lot of other teams most people have never heard of, were independent."

"I hope they don't expect me to pick a fight with my government."

"I'll be honest: it wouldn't hurt. That photo opportunity when we got here was fine, but it portrayed you as part of the Russian military. Major Atom doesn't turn up to League meetings in his air force uniform. As a League member you could be operating in any country in the world, including ones that don't have good relations with Russia. They've got to know that you're there as a League member, not as a Russian soldier. I mean… You people still have Steel Wolf on the books. What do you think would happen if someone reminded the Ukraine of that and then you tried to go there?"

"They would not be too pleased to see me."

"The last thing you need when you're trying to stop a supervillain is to get turned away at the border because your face doesn't fit. And the last thing the League needs is every country demanding that one of their people get on the League."

"I.. understand. I will need to think about it."

"What exactly are your orders about this whole thing?"

"I was told that our metahuman development program has not been interested in super speed since the defection of Red Trinity, and that as a result all of our research and historical records on the subject were to be made available. The second part is what I was ordered to ensure, so whether the first part is true or not is not entirely relevant. If we are still interested, you are permitted to find that out. I have not specifically been ordered to hide anything, though I am supposed to politely discourage you from looking into any other programs."

"Any idea why they stopped looking into super speed?"

"I was not even born when that decision was made. I have been working on this armour; I have never had anything to do with the chemical modification programs."

"Is that a no?"

"I mean to say that I do not know. Maybe they could not make it work correctly?"

That doesn't… Sound like the way the Soviet Union operated. Uh, maybe having people they publicised as being national heroes retiring seriously injured would have been a problem? Maybe they didn't want to provoke Jay into handing the formula over to the US army, given that he had the complete version? Heck, mass produced superhumans could have provoked a nuclear exchange, or a super powered war. The separation between heroes and government on the US side really limited how far things could go there. Did someone on the Soviet side realise where things could go and shut the project down? I don't know. I'm not sure it matters for Wallace, unless it's something to do with how the condition deteriorates.

I'll look into it when we get to the archive.

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th May
19:44 GMT +10

One of the Russian archivists assigned to help us drops another box of files on the table in front of us, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

Oh joy.

Richard looks up and winces slightly. "That's thirty seven boxes of receipts and expense forms."

Wallace turns another page in the research journal he's looking through, a filament from the ring allowing him to read the Cyrillic script. "I thought they were Communist. Shouldn't all that have been 'given according to their need'?"

I lift off the box lid and have the rings float out the first folder. "The Soviet Union had to spend quite a lot of time and effort forcing people to keep working within the bounds of a theoretically utopian but basically nonsensical economic system. Modern Russian nationalism is much more rational."

The rings get to work scanning the receipts and purchase orders, adding the data to what I've collected so far. They're bringing us everything directly related to the project which created the Blue and Red Trinities, which isn't exactly a small amount given that the project started in the twenties and wasn't formally terminated until the sixties. We don't know exactly what they were doing in the twenties given that that was years before Mister Garrick first developed the Garrick Formula. My Hail Mary guess is that it has something to do with the Danner Formula, but all I've got to go on is petrol requisition orders and given what was happening in Russia during the twenties it's a minor miracle I've got those.

Wallace looks up at me. "Can't you just load all that into your brain?"

"Last time I did something like that I spent weeks uncontrollably muttering quotes in Themysciran Greek. I don't speak Themysciran Greek. Any progress?"

He shakes his head. "They kept pretty thorough lab notes, but none of this has anything to do with the Garrick Formula. Hey, you know what a 'Sopernik' is?"

Richard leans in to look over his shoulder. "'Sopernik' means 'rival'. But it's a Russian word, the power ring should translate it for you."

"Not if it's being used as a proper name. Or a code name."

Richard looks sceptical. "How does the ring know?"

"I'll ask the Controllers for you. But if you think about it, so many words' meanings change depending on context that power ring translation systems would have to be able to pick up on it somehow."

"I guess. What does it say about the 'Rival'?"

"Not much. If it was a person, then they're responsible for a lotta these experiments getting performed. This is.. nineteen fifty two."

"Were they someone working in the army?"

"It's a lab diary, Rob. It's not going to say anything like that."

Richard starts pacing. "Okay, so how many people who were around in the fifties had super speed?"

"Johnny Quick, Jay Garrick, Max Mercury, Edward Clariss… Probably a bunch of other people whose names we don't know. I mean, Marvel and Adom get very high flight speeds and fast reflexes from Shazam… Sally Sonic was still a legitimate superhero then and her peak airspeed is supersonic."

"So the odd one out…"

"Might well be one of the ones we've never heard of. We still don't know the names of all of the Red Shadow operatives, to say nothing of metahumans and magic users who might have been scooped up in the Soviet Union's metahuman development program."

Richard sighs. "Yeah, but if I start with Clariss at least I've got somewhere to start. He dropped off the radar in nineteen forty nine. Do we have anything for nineteen forty nine?"

"No." / "Nothing that helps."

The three of us look at Canis.

And we keep looking. A few moments later he lays the bundle of written orders he's reviewing down on the table and looks up at us. "Have I done something to displease our masters?"

Richard shrugs. "Trying to pounce on Rocket Red wasn't exactly League standard operating procedure."

"He was showing you off to the Russian Lowlies like prize farm animals. It was degrading."

Wallace frowns with eyebrows raised. "It's a photo-op, dude. Lets people know that we're on the case. Whatever it is and…" Another box of files is deposited next to him. "However long it takes."

"But we're warriors. Not scriveners. Do they not have slaves for things like this? Lantern, those fat orange things you used as expendable infantry?"

"Praexis Demons can barely speak. I'm pretty sure they can't read and I don't think I'd be inclined to trust them if they could."

"Robin, surely the Batman has peons whom we could rely upon to do-?"

Richard shakes his head. "I don't know what you think Batman does, but back in Gotham we usually use a computer indexing program for things like this. When the data isn't on computer… This is just how long it takes."

Wallace nods. "The Flash can read through a mountain of stuff really fast, but that only works for finding key words. He doesn't remember much of what he read afterwards."

"In other words, suck it up. Or, find something faster and we can stop sooner."

Richard fiddles with his computer some more while I continue tabulating receipts. Nothing's exactly standing out, but I suppose that I'd need to know a lot more about material availability during that period to really evaluate that. "Have you guys seen anything about what happened to Blue Trinity yet?"

"I've got some blood tests from the sixties."

"Nothing here. Probably." I'm getting a rough idea of the sorts of thing that might have been going on at particular sites. The link between test animals no longer being ordered in and pest control chemicals being ordered in large quantities nearly makes me chuckle.

Nearly.

"So.. how sure are we that they're actually dead?"

"We're not. But…" I look at Wallace. "You said that the animals they tested the incomplete formula on stopped getting worse if they were prevented from moving, right?"

"Ye-ah..?"

"So… They'd be quite old. And they'd have to have been sedated pretty much continuously… Ah, Canis, have you got anything about what they did after failing to prevent Red Trinity defecting?"

"There was a hearing, then they were ordered back to their original test centre near Khonuu. Nothing beyond that."

Wallace, Richard and I look at one another. Wallace voices the question first. "You don't think they're still there, do you?"

I tap the intercom. "Sergeant Pushkin, do you have permission to tell us where Blue Trinity are?"

"Permission, yes, but I don't know that. I had assumed that they were dead. Do you want me to ask the Director?"

"And we can go anywhere relating to the Russian super speed study program, right?"

"Unless my orders are changed, yes. But, those files must stay in this building, for security reasons."

"Can we leave them out and come back to them?"

"Yes, of course."

I take my hand off the intercom and raise my eyebrows at Wallace. He shakes his head. "Even if they are there, I don't know how it helps me."

"I can do power ring scans on someone further along the decay path. And I can get Sephtian to do the same. Look, whatever answers we can get out of this-" I look over the file boxes. "-are buried here somewhere and finding them could take weeks. Pursuing another avenue of investigation might be more productive."

"I guess." He pushes the lab diary away slightly. "Though I'm not sure that meeting the worst case scenario is gunna do much to make me feel better about all this."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th May
21:27 GMT +11

The greatcoat-wearing sentries raise their rifles as we step out of the Boom Tube, before a spotlight illuminates Sergeant Pushkin. That causes the rifles to go back down and right arms to snap upwards in a salute.

"No, my friends!" Sergeant Pushkin steps towards them, both arms making a lowering motion. "I am a sergeant, not an officer! You don't need to salute whenever I break wind!"

This is a bit more like the Russia I was expecting. There's still snow on the ground and the temperature is below zero. Khabarovsk was positively balmy! Wallace clearly doesn't appreciate it, visibly wincing in the chill wind. His costume has heating elements but the top of his head and the lower part of his face are bare. Neither Richard, Canis nor Brut seem particularly bothered by the drop in temperature.

"Ah… Yes, sergeant." A corporal takes a few steps forwards. "I am sorry, but this is a restricted area. I will need to see your authorisation, and…" He leans a little to his right, getting a clear look at the rest of us. "Your friends..?"

"Well done, corporal!" Sergeant Pushkin walks towards him, reaching into one of his storage pouches. "Too many people would say, 'he is a famous hero, I will just wave him through'."

"Ah…"

"I respect a man who does his job diligently. You are a contract soldier?" The corporal shakes his head as he reaches out to take Sergeant Pushkin's written orders. "Why not?"

He looks over the first page, then flips through to the second. "I was conscripted out of school. Then the army sent me to Siberia. I always thought that a man needed to commit a crime to get sent out here."

"Bah! You have it easy! I am posted on the North Pacific coast!" He holds up his right gauntlet. "I am lucky they didn't need to make this with only two fingers!"

The corporal nods with a chuckle, then hands back the orders. "This seems to be in order. But I will need to check with my commanding officer."

"Of course, corporal. Lead on."

The corporal waves at the other guards and they grudgingly resume their patrol while he leads us in the direction of the guard station at the side of the road leading into the Khonuu facility. It isn't some sort of hut designed to keep the wind off; it's a genuine concrete bunker. What little glass there is in the slit windows is extremely tough and reinforced with wire.

Wallace leans towards Richard. "Anyone else feel like we're in some kind of spy thriller?"

Richard thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "Don't think you're a spy if they've got orders to let you look at their documents."

Canis peers out through the dark. "What is this place?"

"This was where a lot of the Soviet Union's metahuman research was done. These days-" As I learned through long and painful analysis of their receipts. "-it's more of a storage facility."

"I know what it is. I want to know why it is. Why does it still exist? And why did those warriors it produced not overturn your world?"

"Why is because it's in an unpleasant location. I doubt they keep anything really top secret in the archive back in Khabarovsk. Piles of receipts, sure. Actual blood samples of someone with super speed that someone might be able to use to reconstruct the Formula from, no. They needed somewhere to put that and they already had this place up and running. Easier to just run it down than build somewhere new."

"And it works for p-p-punishment duty." Wallace shivers. "Shoulda brought a scarf." I attach a filament to him and grant him an environmental shield. "And my gratitude is only slightly tempered by the fact that you could have done that two minutes ago."

"Punishment duty?"

Wallace nods. "Yeah, you know: some guys screw up but not badly enough to get them kicked out completely… You stick 'em somewhere where you need someone but where it's not worth putting your good troops. What, you don't do that on Apokolips?"

"No. Anyone who had failed that badly would be killed or tortured. Or possibly both. It would depend on who their overseer was." He thinks for a moment. "Of course, the truly devout would torture and kill themselves without the need for further intervention. Alas, few have that level of devotion."

Wallace slowly nods, then takes a step away from Canis. "Riiiiight."

"But what of their lack of success?"

Richard frowns. "Maybe they were worried about Jay handing out the Formula to the US military?"

Wallace tilts his head to the left for a moment. "Super speed mutually assured destruction. Glad that never happened."

"What do you mean, mutually assured destruction? Surely the side with most people capable of super speed would emerge victorious?"

Wallace shakes his head. "Super speed doesn't let you do everything. If someone got nuclear weapons in the air on planes or missiles there wouldn't be much that anyone could do to stop it. Plus… We had to rebuild three city blocks when the Flash and Reverse Flash fought each other. Even if nukes didn't get launched I don't know how much world there would be left afterwards."

"And?"

"What do y'mean, 'and'?"

"The two nations hated each other, were rivals of each other for supremacy over your world with near equal power. On Apokolips…" He shakes his head. "Were they gods rather than nations, there could be no peace between them. Such a weapon as these Trinities represent would be used. And your Jay Garrick would certainly not be given the opportunity to keep his discovery to himself."

Wallace holds up his hands at his sides, palms upwards. "Did you not hear how that would have destroyed the world?"

"Planets are hardy things. With reasonable preparation, some of the population of one side would be able to survive and rebuild later."

"They'd be rebuilding from nothing. Billions of people would die, including almost everyone from their own side."

Canis frowns uncomprehendingly. "But they would have won?"

Wallace waves dismissively at Canis, earning a low growl from Brut. "Apokolips is messed up."

"Okay!" Sergeant Pushkin waves goodbye to the corporal as he heads back towards us. "My orders have been checked and verified. We may enter. Again, there will be places we cannot go, but they will be polite when they let you know."

"Are they here?" Wallace sounds excited by the prospect. "Blue Trinity?"

"Ahh… He did not know."

Richard frowns. "How could he not know?"

"Operational security in places like this is very tight. If they are here, only the scientists directly working on them would know of it."

"Just them?"

"And the Director of Future Weapon Development."

Wallace shrugs. "Could we just ask him?"

Sergeant Pushkin turns to walk into the facility. "He is a very busy man. Besides, you will see for yourselves in a few minutes."

"Oh El, can you just scan the place?"

Oh dear. "Doesn't look like it. Sergeant, when was this place warded?"

"When it was built. They had gypsy witches brought here to protect it from enemy magic. American parapsychics did not spend all of their time staring at Goats."

Oh thank goodness.

"There are also.. other measures… Automated defences. Things to stop the volunteers leaving without authorisation."

Wallace looks uncomfortable. "Automated defenses?"

"Do not worry. They will all be deactivated for our visit."