The Emerald Gladiator.... TOTAL CONTROL Part 2
Green Lantern #2 February, Year One	By Russ Anderson

He was in the dark. Pitch-blackness without so much as a star in the sky or a glow from around a closed door. For a panicky moment, he thought he’d been struck blind--then he remembered the ring on his right hand and, with a thought, used it to bathe the room in cold green light.

He was in the center of a filthy chamber… huge, stretching upward and in all directions beyond the reach of his ring’s light. Kyle tried to sit up, and a bolt of pain slammed down from the back of his skull, into the pit of his stomach, and back up again. He groaned softly and stopped moving. After a moment, he was able to raise himself.

“The hell--?”

Where was he? The last thing he remembered was watching the sun rising up over the city from the top of the Brooklyn Bridge. It had been a rare day off from his work as both a freelance artist and a superhero, and he’d been intent on spending it relaxing…

That’s right. The guy. The white-haired guy with all of Superman’s powers--what had that chopper cop called him? A Daxxamite?--destroyed a couple of buildings, killed a bunch of people, and cleaned Kyle’s clock about as thoroughly as it ever had been.

And now he was in this strange room, with no company.

The last Oan power ring flared more brightly, and Kyle got shakily to his feet. He still couldn’t see the ceiling, but he could see the walls now. He was dead center in a square chamber that had to be at least two miles at a side. The floors were stone and dirt, but the walls looked to be some sort of dull metal.

He put a hand to his head, willing the pounding to stop. The emerald ring on his right hand--the weapon that made him the last of what had once been an intergalactic corps of Green Lanterns--potentially had the power to move planets, but it couldn’t do anything about it’s bearer’s four-alarm migraine.

What were his options?

He could fly around a bit, see if he could find a way out. Or he could just punch a hole through one of these walls--he had no doubt the ring could handle whatever his surroundings were composed of. But both of those choices required he be able to concentrate, and he couldn’t with his brain doing the Macarena like it was…

There was a massive KA-CHUNK that shook the entire chamber, followed by a humming vibration in his knees. Confused and still a little dazed, he didn’t realize what was happening until his ears popped. He was rising, the entire floor was rising. The chamber must have generated some sort of inertial dampening field, because he was moving upward at fantastic speed, but the momentum wasn’t slamming him to the floor. He looked upward, ready to blast a hole in whatever ceiling he was rocketing toward, when that black ceiling split open and slid away. Light flooded down into the chamber, and Kyle had to shield his eyes from the glare. A moment later, the ground he was standing on locked into place at the former level of the ceiling. There was roaring all around him, as if he was surrounded by thousands of rowdy sports fans. Willing his facemask to shield his vision from the worst of the light, he opened his eyes.

“Oh… my… God…”

He was in the center of a massive arena. All around him, as far as the eye could see, in a coliseum that must have been as big as a small city, were hundreds of thousands of aliens, all of them roaring in either approval or disdain as he came into view.

“Call Russell Crowe,” Kyle muttered, “Tell him somebody stole his movie…”

ATTENTION GREEN LANTERN, SECTOR 2814.

The voice boomed down the length of the coliseum, and the crowd gave one more cheer of approval for it, then fell into an uncanny silence. Above the arena, a projection of three more aliens flickered into view. The hologram had to be at least 10 stories tall--Kyle was beginning to lose all sense of perspective.

The aliens themselves were tall and red-skinned. They wore long monastic-style blue robes with complicated metal pads up around the shoulders and chest. Not one of them had a bit of hair on them, but each had their pates distinctively tattooed. These tattoos--extending over the top of the skull, over the eye, and ending below the cheekbone, but differing in number and width--were the only notable difference between the three of them.

In fact, they looked a whole lot like…

“Colos,” Kyle moaned. “Ferrin Colos, the Darkstar. So that makes these guys…”

GREEN LANTERN OF SECTOR 2814, DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOU ARE AND WHY YOU HAVE BEEN SUMMONED HERE?

“You have got to be kidding me…” Anger swelled in Kyle’s chest, momentarily blanking out the pain in his head. A green megaphone appeared at his mouth, blasting his voice up, out, and down the length of the coliseum. “YOU’RE THE CONTROLLERS, RIGHT? GUYS WHO CREATED THE DARKSTARS? DID YOU SEND THAT DAXXAMITE TO EARTH, YOU JACKASSES? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY EARTH PEOPLE HE KILLED ‘SUMMONING’ ME?”

The lead alien nodded. YES, WE ARE THE CONTROLLERS, AND YES WE ARE AWARE OF THE DAMAGE VON-LO DID TO YOUR CITY AND YOUR PEOPLE. IT WAS REGRETTABLE, BUT NECESSARY TO DRAW YOU OUT AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE BEFORE THE OTHER METABEINGS OF YOUR WORLD COULD INTERFERE.

“WHAT IS THIS ABOUT?”

PUT SIMPLY, GREEN LANTERN OF SECTOR 2814, IT IS ABOUT YOUR RIGHT TO WEAR THAT OAN POWER RING ON YOUR FIST.

“What?” Kyle looked at his hand, as if to assure himself the aliens were talking about that Oan power ring. Then, into the megaphone, “I WAS GIVEN THIS RING BY THE LAST SURVIVING GUARDIAN. LAST I CHECKED, THEY WERE THE ONLY AUTHORITY ON WHO GOT A POWER RING AND WHO DIDN’T.”

SUCH WAS TRUE WHEN THERE WERE STILL GUARDIANS TO SAFEGUARD THE POWER. BUT THAT IS NO LONGER SO.

“ARE YOU TELLING ME GANTHET IS DEAD?”

The lead alien paused, as if considering the consequences of answering that question in so public a forum, then nodded. IT IS TRUE THAT THE ROGUE GREEN LANTERN, HAL JORDAN, HAS PERISHED?

Kyle indicated it was.

AND IT IS TRUE THAT, PRIOR TO JORDAN’S DEATH, GANTHET OF OA MERGED HIS PHYSICAL FORM WITH THAT OF JORDAN?

“YES,” Kyle replied, seeing with sudden dread where they were going with this.

THEN GANTHET MUST HAVE DIED WITH JORDAN, IS THIS TRUE?

“LOOK, THIS IS STUPID! GANTHET GAVE ME THIS RING. AND I’M NOT ABOUT TO HAND IT OVER BECAUSE THREE MEGALOMANIACS WITH AN AUTHORITY COMPLEX FEEL IT’S THEIR RIGHT TO POLICE ALL OF SPACE!”

YOU WERE NOT CHOSEN, MAN OF EARTH. GANTHET GAVE YOU THE POWER RING BECAUSE YOU WERE THE FIRST EARTHER HE HAPPENED UPON AFTER JORDAN KILLED THE REST OF THE GUARDIANS. YOU HAVE NO MORE RIGHT TO THE RESPONSIBILITY OF BEARING THAT RING THAN IF YOU HAD FOUND IT IN THE STREET.

This brought a deafening cheer from the assembled aliens. Kyle dropped the megaphone and looked around. Above him was a blue sky. He doubted he was on Earth anymore, but if he could get off-planet before they sicced their pet Daxxamite on him, he was sure the ring could get him home. Then he could make a pitstop at the JLA Watchtower, and introduce that Daxxamite to his bigger, meaner brothers--Superman and the Martian Manhunter.

GIVE NO THOUGHT TO FLIGHT, MAN OF EARTH, the projection broke in. THE SKY ABOVE YOU IS ARTIFICIAL. YOU ARE STANDING WITHIN THE LARGEST, MOST DESTRUCTIVE MECHANICAL DEVICE IN ALL OF CREATION, WITH NO HOPE OF ESCAPE.

WELCOME, GREEN LANTERN OF SECTOR 2814, TO WARWORLD.

Earth.

“And that’s everything?”

Donna Troy nodded. “I didn’t get there until just before they teleported away, Wally. I thought I was actually getting through to the Daxxamite, but then he called me one of the ‘failed ones’ and blinked away with Kyle in tow.”

Leaning against the kitchen counter, one of Donna’s oldest most trusted friends, Wally West, stood in the familiar red and yellow garb that marked him as the fastest man alive. The Flash had his mask off and he was sipping coffee from a steaming mug. Decaf, of course--the last thing somebody with a mainline into the Speed Force needed was a boost, after all.

“What do you think that meant? That ‘failed one’ thing?”

“Who knows? It’s strange enough that he seemed to recognize me. I’d never seen him before in my life.”

Wally gave her a playful grin. “Failed at anything recently?”

“Except my marriage, you mean?” Wally’s face fell, and Donna put her head in one hand. “I’m sorry, Wally, you didn’t deserve that. I’m just… I’m not used to feeling this helpless when something threatens the people I love.”

“I understand, Donna. You’re talking to somebody who spent his teenage years losing his powers in one way or another about every other month.”

“But you always got them back.”

“Granted.” He set the mug down and, moving faster than Donna could track, was suddenly standing in front of her and tilting her face upward. “And don’t you dare think you failed at your marriage. Terry knew what he was getting into when he married Wonder Girl of the Teen Titans… it’s not your fault he couldn’t accept it after he’d already committed.”

“You’re sweet for saying so…”

“I’m right for saying so.” Wally pulled on his mask. “Look, we’re doing everything we can at the moment. I don’t pretend to like the guy very much, but Green Lantern is a member of the League, and that makes tracking him down our top priority. J’onn and Wonder Woman have been talking with the ruling government of Daxxam. Superman’s going over the scene of the battle with a fine-toothed microscopic glare, looking for clues to feed to Batman. We’ll get him back.”

“Thanks, Wally.”

“Anytime. Just try not to lose the next boyfriend, okay? I don’t want to make a habit out of this.” He smiled and gave her a super-speed peck on the cheek. “Gotta run. I’ll let you know when something turns up.” With a brush of scarlet-tinged wind, he was gone.

Donna let out a long breath. Standing around Kyle’s apartment worrying wasn’t going to do anyone any good, but she couldn’t bring herself to work at the moment. Maybe she could--

There was a knock at the door. Setting the mug down, Donna left the kitchen, crossed the livingroom, and checked the peephole. On the other side was a young man--younger than her or Kyle, maybe in his late teens--with olive skin and contrasting blonde hair. He was extremely handsome. Donna didn’t recognize him, but he didn’t look particularly threatening. She opened the door.

“Hello,” the guy said with a bright, honest smile that would have made Donna’s knees weak if she wasn’t so preoccupied with other things. He extended a hand. “Is Kyle in? I’m a friend of his from out of town… my name’s Connor Hawke.”

Warworld. Kyle racked his brains for what he knew about the place, thankful for once that Batman had made him study the JLA files.

Warworld was an artificial planet, once ruled by a ruthless monarch named Mongul, who had used the place to conquer entire star systems. Apparently, the despot had been on a pretty solid winning streak until he’d made the mistake of capturing Superman and trying to force him into his gladiatorial games. Supes had put the kibosh on the whole gladiator thing and deposed Mongul in short order… but Warworld had been forced into a game of ‘meet-the-new-boss-same-as-the-old-boss’ when Brainiac had seized control of the place. Brainy had used it to attack Earth, and that time it had taken the combined might of just about every metahuman on the planet to turn Warworld back.

And now the Controllers were apparently at the wheel. The Controllers were kind of like the Guardians had been… only not as likeable. The Guardians had gotten into the ‘safeguarding the universe’ career field out of altruism… from what Donna had told him from her brief stay in the Darkstars, the Controllers had gotten into it out of a desire to eliminate any and all potential threats to themselves.

The megaphone appeared at Kyle’s lips again. The throbbing in his head seemed to get worse as he spoke, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to remain silent. “YOU’RE RIGHT THAT GANTHET CHOSE ME AT RANDOM, BUT IN THE LAST FEW MONTHS I’VE EARNED THIS RING OVER AND OVER AGAIN. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO IT.”

IT IS NOT MERELY THE CONTROLLERS WHO ARE CONCERNED WITH YOUR PERFORMANCE, MAN OF EARTH. The projection of the lead Controller swept his arm to indicate the arena. ALL THE CIVILIZED RACES OF THE COSMOS, EVEN IN YOUR NATIVE SECTOR, SHARE OUR APPREHENSION AT THE DEMISE OF THE GREEN LANTERN CORPS. WHO WILL KEEP THEM SAFE, KYLE RAYNER? YOU? WILL YOU REPLACE AN ENTIRE CORPS?

“NOBODY COULD,” Kyle admitted. “AND TAKING MY RING WON’T HELP, BECAUSE I CAN’T MAKE NEW RINGS WITH IT ANYMORE. ONE GL IS ALL YOU’RE GOING TO GET.”

WE ARE AWARE OF THIS, WHICH IS WHY IT IS SO CRITICAL THAT THE ONE GREEN LANTERN IS THE RIGHT GREEN LANTERN.

“AND I SUPPOSE YOU KNOW WHO THAT RIGHT ONE WOULD BE? YOUR DAXXAMITE BUDDY, MAYBE?”

The lead Controller seemed to sigh. He looked towards his companions, and one of them stepped forward to address Kyle. There was some excited jabber from the coliseum seats now, but it was still remarkably subdued considering how many were gathered here.

WE RESPECT YOUR FEELINGS IN REGARDS TO THE RING, GREEN LANTERN, the new Controller said. AND YOU HAVE WON SEVERAL NOTABLE BATTLES IN THE MONTHS SINCE YOU GAINED CONTROL OF IT, INCLUDING AGAINST TWO SONS OF DARKSEID. THIS IS WHY WE DID NOT SIMPLY TAKE THE RING FROM YOU WHEN YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS. AT THE BEHEST OF THIS GATHERING OF CIVILIZED RACES, YOU WILL BE REQUIRED TO DEFEND YOUR RIGHT TO THE OAN POWER RING IN SINGLE COMBAT WITH OUR CHAMPION. THIS COMBAT WILL BE TO THE DEATH, WITH THE VICTOR CLAIMING THE MANTLE OF THE ONE, TRUE GREEN LANTERN.

Kyle shook his head. He was in a whole bunch of trouble here. His head was killing him, and that Daxxamite--Von-Lo, the Controllers had called him--had beaten him easily back on Earth, when he was at the top of his form. He didn’t have a chance against him right now…

Which left him with one option.

The Controller was still jabbering on about the “single combat”. Kyle thumbed his nose at him, then fired himself straight up into the artificial sky.

The crowd was on its feet in an instant, crying out in excitement and anger. Their voices seemed to lend Kyle speed, pushing him upward faster. In an eyeblink, he was nearly out of sight of the coliseum, and his ring had located and was preparing to smash through the ceiling far overhead.

Von-Lo reached him in the next moment.

The Daxxamite’s first blow, out of nowhere and completely unexpected, sent Kyle hurtling and bouncing off the artificial sky for miles. By the time he managed to right himself, Von-Lo was on him again, battering the green aura that surrounded Kyle when he was flying. The aura took the punishment--barely--but the concussive force kept pounding its occupant across the sky. Every time Von-Lo landed a blow, Kyle’s head spun and the world blurred further around the edges, until he couldn’t fight anymore, could only hover helplessly as the Daxxamite seized him through the aura.

“Fight the champion,” Von-Lo hissed, and though Kyle’s head was spinning like a top and he couldn’t be sure, he thought he heard real concern in the Daxxamite’s voice. “Be the Green Lantern you proved yourself to be when you defeated Grayven on Rann!* Don’t make me kill you before the battle has even begun!”

(* See Green Lantern #75--Russ)

Kyle tried to hold onto what the white-haired guy with all the powers of Superman had said--did that mean Von-Lo wouldn’t be his opponent?—but the meaning slipped away with consciousness in the next moment. When next Kyle opened his eyes, he was dropping back down to the stadium floor, dangling from Von-Lo’s fist like a ragdoll.

BE ADVISED, GREEN LANTERN 2814, THAT ANY FURTHER ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE WILL BE MET WITH THE SAME FORCE. VON-LO WILL BE KEEPING AN EYE ON THE COMBAT AS IT PROGRESSES, AND YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO LEAVE HERE UNTIL EITHER YOU OR YOUR OPPONENT IS DEAD.

Kyle couldn’t reply. The muscles that worked his jaw seemed to have turned to mush. He could barely form a coherent thought, much less follow what the Controller was saying.

AS TO YOUR OPPONENT… SHE IS AN ACCOMPLISHED WARRIOR, TRAINED BY THE WARLORDS OF OKAARA, AND BEARING WEAPONRY SIMILAR TO YOUR OWN.

About a mile down the field, the ground split open again, and a figure rose through the opening just as he had done minutes ago. Once the platform carrying the figure locked into place, it rose into the air, and flew over to where Von-Lo stood and Kyle slumped.

SHE WAS A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL FAMILY OF XANSHII, BEFORE THAT PLANET’S UNTIMELY DESTRUCTION BY A MEMBER OF THE GREEN LANTERN CORPS.

The woman had drawn closer. She was basically humanoid, though her skin was colored a dark reddish-brown. Long, curly black tresses fell over pointed ears, and she was wearing armor decorated with what looked like bits and pieces of various GL uniforms.

KYLE RAYNER, PREPARE TO ENGAGE IN COMBAT WITH YYRA…

She landed before Kyle and the Daxxamite, an angry scowl distorting her otherwise beautiful face. Kyle’s bleary eyes widened when he saw what she was wearing on her right hand.

OR AS SHE PREFERS TO BE ADDRESSED SINCE THE DEATH OF HER HOMEWORLD… FATALITY.

The woman raised a hand, the scowl turning to a grin of pure malice as energy danced around the yellow power ring on her fist.

“Oh hell…” Kyle muttered, and then he passed out.

NEXT: "Total Control" Part 3. Mortal Combat. Be here.

RUB THE LAMP

Thanks to EiC supreme Will Short for writing a review for my first issue. I'll post it next issue, along with anything else I might get between now and then.

Send comments to RussLee74@comcast.net.

- Russ Anderson
5 April, 2001

Story © 2001, Russ Anderson. Most characters presented are property of DC COMICS