The World's Greatest Superheroes..... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME
JLA #17 - June, Year 2	by Curt Fernlund

Part 8: The Clockwork Girl

Suicide Slum - Metropolis:
7:57 a.m. EST

Supergirl hovered over the corner of Fifth and Barker, watching as her foe raged and bellowed several yards below. Abandoned cars were burning all along the streets, up and down the intersection; the result of her enemy's paranormal attacks. A fire hydrant spewed water up the block, a torrent of water washing towards the sewers. Shards of glass and torn metal littered the sidewalks, almost lost in the clouds of smoke roiling down the streets. Sirens blared in the distance.

She saw the Guardian nearby, behind the hastily erected police barricades, coordinating with the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit. His golden shield sparkled prettily in the early morning light. Maggie Sawyer was barking orders over a bullhorn, and Dan Turpin was struggling with his armored vest, trying to keep his gun trained on the villain. The streets were chaos, but luckily--at least so far--no one had died.

Supergirl shifted her position as a mailbox sailed past. She followed its arch and saw that it would smash relatively harmlessly into one of the many abandoned tenements that made up Suicide Slum, one of the worst neighborhoods in Metropolis. The metal box smashed through the brick and steel façade of a crumbling building, bringing down one floor as its trajectory carried it through the building's dilapidated interior. Wood and timber crumbled, smashing down in on itself, clouds of dust billowing out in the resulting carnage.

"Hold still, dammit girl! I'll make it quick!"

Supergirl glanced back at Shrapnel at his outburst. He had ripped a street lamp out of the ground and was waving it at her, though he was woefully out of reach. His ragged, jagged metallic 'skin' glistened and gleamed in the early morning light, the rays of the new sun catching off of the sharp edges of his body. He was buying time she knew, waiting for his Meta energies to build within his system once again. She knew that once he reached critical mass he would explode as he had three times already, spewing the razor sharp shards of his skin in every direction, the hard metal slicing through anything that stood in its path. The devastation that he had already caused was monumental, and any further damage would just drag Suicide Slum even deeper into despair. She had to stop his rampage, and quickly, but she just did not know how.

Shrapnel had suffered her strongest blows and shrugged them off with ease. He was not indestructible, but his tough metal skin gave him defenses that simple strength just could not penetrate. She had batted him around, but did little more than agitate him in the process. Her telekinetic bursts proved little more effective. Nor did her version of heat vision. Supergirl managed to batter the villain and heat his metallic skin to a soft red glow, but he simply laughed off her strongest attacks. She hated to admit it, but she was stymied.

It had seemed so simple to begin with. Supergirl had heard the initial sirens and had ran to the window of the small apartment that Superman had given her when she had first arrived in his city, Metropolis. He had wanted her to return to Smallville of course, but she had learned all that she felt that she could from the Kents, and felt too that it was time for her to move on. She wanted to establish herself as a superheroine, not unlike the kind that she had been in the pocket dimension where she had originated. The dying Earth that Superman had saved her from.

She had the power of course. Even Superman had to admit that she was powerful in her own right. As Supergirl, she had all of the Man of Steel's super powers, but as Matrix she had even more. She could change her shape at will, mimicking anyone that she saw with little effort, contorting her body into any shape that she could imagine. Too, she had a telekinetic-based Meta power that set her apart from the rest of the Meta community. Superman had hypothesized that most of her powers were a result of her telekinetics in one form or another. Her flight and Heat Vision, which was little more than her agitating the molecules in the air, bending them to her will. Her shape shifting was a mental control of the very molecules that made up her own pliant form. Even her telekinetic bursts, mental blasts that took on physical form to strike anything that she concentrated on. In this case, the villain called Shrapnel.

Her telekinetic blasts were strong enough to knock the Meta down and back, but they did not have the power to keep him out of action. Supergirl knew that there must be some way to use her vast powers to beat the man, but she just did not have the experience, or--she hated to admit--the intelligence. She was naïve in the ways of this world that she now called home. She had spent years fighting in a war on that other Earth, but all that she had done there was use her powers at their fullest potential, to the ultimate expense. Her foes there had been Kryptonian, and ruthless mass murderers. Anything less than all-out would have proven useless in that endless battle. As a result she had no finesse, and no real skills with her abilities. All that she knew was to hit hard and fast, and hope that she did not get caught in the backlash.

Shrapnel hurled the mangled lamppost at her like a spear. She easily swooped out of the way, watching as the long metal pole followed the mailbox into the run down building, smashing through the brick façade. She could see the Meta building in power. It would be mere seconds before he exploded again, showering the street with shrapnel--perhaps taking a life this time. Supergirl heard Maggie Sawyer barking orders and saw as the Metropolis SCU charged forward, led by the Guardian. He was a brave man, that one, with little more than his athletic skills and his seemingly indestructible shield. He ran forward unafraid, bearing down on the villain that was at least twice his size and many more times his mass. Supergirl watched, feeling guilty that a mere mortal man seemed to have more courage than she did. She bit her lip and arched up in her flight, then angled downward, picking up speed as she dove at Shrapnel.

Supergirl yelped in surprise, pulling up short as the world erupted in a glare of red. She heard the cries of the police in the SCU, just as shocked as she was, apparently. She could hear the Guardian shouting out for everyone to take cover, his voice strong and sure. Finally she heard the anguished cry of Shrapnel, a long and plaintive plea that choked in his throat. Supergirl grabbed at her eyes, rubbing as spots danced in her sight from the sudden, unexpected flare of light. She had felt the heat as well, a burning sensation that enveloped her entire body, seeping through her telekinetic shield as well as her naturally tough skin with ease. She felt as though she had been sunburned, her whole body aching with a mild receding pain.

Gingerly she opened her eyes, straining to see through the exploding bursts of color washing through her sight. She blinked, tears running down her face as she focused on the armored members of the SCU staggering blindly. Maggie Sawyer was shaking her head, trying to regain her sight, but Dan Turpin was still lumbering forward, his face red and his cigar a frazzled butt of ash. Only the Guardian seemed unaffected as he stood at the remains of the man that had been Shrapnel, checking the Meta for signs of life.

The Meta had been the target of the unexplained burst of heat. His body seemed frozen, the mass of jagged metal shards now dulled and flattened about his body. The blast of heat had almost melted him it seemed, and the sharp edges that had covered him were now simple humps and bumps of melted metal fused together and trapping him in a stance of shocked panic. He was alive Supergirl could see, his head cocked back and his gaze fixed somewhere up in the sky. She dropped down, slowly floating to the ground as she followed his gaze and smiled. She should have known . . .

Superman

Supergirl watched somewhat in awe as the Man of Steel floated down towards the frozen body of Shrapnel. He looked so dramatic, the wind billowing his cape as he descended, grabbing the corners. He was sure and confident in his every action. He was everything that she strived to be. He landed just beside the Guardian, shaking the man's hand as Detective Turpin and Maggie Sawyer ran forward. Not wanting to be left out of the reunion, Supergirl descended as well.

"--good to see you again, Guardian." Superman was saying as he eyed the motionless body of Shrapnel. Supergirl could see the Meta's energy flare as he reached critical mass, but with his body melded into one solid piece there was no explosion, and the spent energy seemed to implode within the man's shell, rendering him senseless. It was what she had tried to accomplish, but Supergirl had just not had the power. She was not Superman.

"it's a lucky thing that you happened along, Superman." The Guardian stepped aside as members of the SCU and Project Cadmus began to strap the shell of the man to a brace for transport. "We were just about out of options."

"Always happy to help out. It's why I'm here." Both men turned as the two detectives joined them. Supergirl landed a bit out of the way, as she was sure that Superman would want to speak to them first.

"We would'a took 'im, Supes. Just a matter a time 'til the SCU hit on the right combo ta take him down." Dan Turpin pulled a fresh cigar from his pinstriped suit and puffed it to life while his commander, Lieutenant Sawyer, supervised the containment of the felon.

"I'm sure that you would have, detective. I have the utmost confidence in your squad."

Sawyer and Turpin both looked oddly at the Man of Steel for a moment. As far as Supergirl could tell, Superman had yet to even acknowledge Maggie Sawyer's presence. Supergirl found that odd, as he and the police woman were friends, and the way that Superman had said that last bit--well, he made it sound as though Turpin was in charge. Supergirl saw that Sawyer was not going to make an issue of the matter though, so she wouldn't either as she finally stepped forward to greet her mentor.

"Superman!

The Man of Steel turned, a smile turning the corners of his mouth as he saw her. She thought that he looked tired, and worried despite the grin he gave her. He almost seemed older than the last time that she had seen him less than a month before, and oddly, bigger.

"Supergirl!" he said, forgetting momentarily the two detectives and the Guardian as he stepped towards her. "Kara, I'm glad that I finally found you. We need to talk."

Supergirl's brow furrowed as she considered her mentor.

"Kara?" she asked, tilting her head. The name seemed familiar, like she should know it but could not quite recall why. "Who's Kara?"

She saw Superman's gaze intensify. The smile quickly disappeared as his eyes glowed slightly, the telltale flash of his X-Ray Vision. Her skin tingled as he raked her with his gaze and she saw his visage grow grim, frowning now, his eyes first wide, then cold and hard.

"Great Rao!" he said with astonishment. "You're not Kryptonian! You're not even human! What are you?"

Supergirl stared at the man that meant more to her than anyone in the world. He had saved her life after her own planet Earth had been destroyed by the three villainous Kryptonians from the Phantom Zone. He had brought her here to his Earth and helped to nurse her back to health with his adopted family the Kents. He had helped her to learn to use her powers and to adapt to this world that she would come to love and call home. Now, as she looked into his cold hard eyes she saw nothing but confusion and hate. He looked and sounded as though she was a stranger that he had never met before. Supergirl felt a lump of sorrow swelling in her throat. She could feel her heart breaking.

"S-Superman?"

"Who are you?" he shouted, grabbing her arms and shaking her, drawing her close. She felt true pain as he shook her, squeezing her. "What have you done with Kara?"

Supergirl tried to pull away, to break the man's fierce grip, but he was too strong. Stronger than she remembered it seemed. He held her fast, shouting at her, his face growing red with rage. Supergirl gasped, fear suddenly racing through her.

"Let her go!"

Supergirl saw the golden shield of the Guardian slam down on the Man of Steel's arm. It was a devastating blow that would have shattered the bones of any normal man, but Superman was hardly that. He did not even flinch. He did however turn to face the man from Cadmus, his eyes glowing red and crackling with a fiery energy. Supergirl saw the twin red beams of Superman's heat vision lance out, flashing at the Guardian as she struggled even harder to free herself.

The Guardian was no fool though. As fast as Superman's eyes glowed, his shield was up to block the beams. Supergirl saw the Guardian wince as his shield started to glow red-hot, at least until the man dropped low and angled the shield to reflect the heat beam away. The abandoned tenement that had suffered so much from Shrapnel's assault burst into flames, the old dry wood of the building quickly erupting into an inferno. She could hear Maggie Sawyer directing her troops, and the few people in the crowd that had managed to inch forward were quickly forced back again by the SCU.

The Guardian rolled and tumbled, dodging Superman's fiery gaze and deflecting it into the ground before springing to his feet again. He was fast and agile for a human--for a genetically enhanced clone she corrected herself--but to her, and to the Metropolis Marvel she knew as well, he may as well have been moving in slow motion. The Guardian leapt at Superman putting his momentum and mass behind another mighty blow. Supergirl winced as the Guardian's shield slammed into Superman's head, but the Man of Steel seemed barely fazed. With an incredible speed he simply swept his arm at her would-be rescuer and the Guardian went flying.

Supergirl gasped as the Guardian was batted aside like a bug. He flew over the heads of the SCU and the crowd beyond, disappearing as he slammed hard into and through a building across the street. Supergirl wanted to rush to her friend's aid, to help him, but she knew now that she had to deal with Superman. There was obviously something wrong with him. Perhaps he was being mind-controlled. Or maybe the man that held her was not even the Man of Steel that she knew. It had happened before, not so long ago. After his 'death' there were two others who claimed to be Superman; the Cyborg and the Eradicator. Perhaps this was one of them.

Whatever, this Superman had eased his grip in order to swat aside the Guardian. He only had hold of her by one arm now, and Supergirl knew that if she hoped to get away that she would not get a better chance. Before the Man of Steel could react, Supergirl leaned away, shifting her weight until it rested on her hind leg. It was a trick that the Bruce Wayne of her Earth had taught her, to throw her opponent off balance. The Maid of Might felt Superman's grip on her arm tighten as he shifted his feet to accommodate, and in that moment she shot forward, her fist driving at the Man of Steel's jaw and backed with all of the telekinetic might that she could muster.

Supergirl yelped in pain as her knuckles drove into the Kryptonian's jaw. She had not felt such pain since she had nearly been killed in the three pronged assault of the super-criminals that had laid waste to her world. She felt her hand grow numb and was sure that she had shattered all of the bones within. She barely felt the Man of Steel's grip fall away as he stumbled back from her blow. She cradled her crushed hand against her stomach, wincing as she tried to concentrate, to will it whole once more. She was a shape shifter after all. She felt the pain, but nothing short of death would cripple her for long.

She saw Superman dab at his lip with his thumb. He stared at his hand for a moment, seemingly surprised to find it wet and red with blood. He licked at his lips, wiping away the trickle of blood with his tongue then returned his attention to her once more.

"Where is my cousin?" he snarled. She had never seen him so angry, and Supergirl knew that this could not be the man she knew. The Superman that had saved her was kind and gentle, and patient above all else. He did not lose his temper like this.

"I don't know who you mean!" she shouted back as she flexed her fingers back into shape. Her hand was tingling as the bones under her pliant flesh started to knit and slide back into place. She needed to buy some time until she was properly healed. "I'm Supergirl! Matrix! I don't know any Kara!"

She saw his eyes glow red and Supergirl screamed. Visions of her near death at the hands of the Phantom Zone criminals flashed through her mind. Horrible memories of her world charred and burned, everyone slaughtered at their whim. Four billion people slain to satisfy their foul desires. She saw herself twisted and burned, helpless before them. She would not suffer that again!

The air around her erupted in golden light as she willed her attacker away. A bolt of telekinetic energy arched from her brow, striking the Man of Steel full in the face. She heard him cry out as his own heat vision exploded in his face with nowhere to go. She had slammed him hard--like hitting him with a 'super' baseball bat across the nose. She had gotten lucky, she knew, in that she had struck just as he was about to let loose a withering blast of his own and she had slapped it right back at him. He staggered back and she flew forward.

The girl was strong, he would give her that. As strong as Kara? Maybe, but she was nowhere as skilled in the use of her powers. She flailed wildly as she flew into him, swinging blindly and beating on him more like a woman in distress than a true fighter. Her blows hurt, and he was surprised at that. Whatever she was, she had power.

He had been shocked to see the protoplasmic form that he had seen within her as he had scanned her with his X-Ray Vision. Though her outer shell was incredibly beautiful, the inner body was most akin to sculptor's clay. Her form reminded him of Chameleon Boy's pet, Proty, from his days with the Legion of Super Heroes in his youth. Proty was of a species that looked like little more than a blob of Silly Putty, and this girl seemed made up of a similar substance. Oddly, he thought again of Bizarro.

She was battering him mercilessly, caught up in a rage of her own. Her fists pounded at him, and he felt every blow. Again it was like fighting the Bizarro Superman, someone that was his equal in strength. The pummeling hurt, and she had opened the split in his lip again. He felt blood as she pounded away, each blow backed by some invisible force. He had felt it in the bolt that she had blasted him with, some form of telekinesis. His initial scan of her form had revealed the slight field of energy that surrounded her body and he suspected that all of her powers were based on her telekinesis in one form or another. As such, he knew how to defeat her. He had dealt with psychics before, and despite the encounter with the Martian in the Arctic, he had learned from the best.

He let the girl--Matrix she had called herself--let her drive him back with her assault as he scanned her body again. He squinted, shifting his special sight through the entire spectrum, noting her form under the scrutiny of ultra violet light and infrared. He weathered a searing blast of her version of his own heat vision, more an agitating of molecules like a microwave might do than actually burning him with real heat. He let her spend her energies as he studied her, then finally allowed her to knock him back and away so that he could concentrate. She would talk now. They all did.

"Stay down!" she commanded, raising her fists in defense like a boxer. She was breathing hard, but he noted that she was not sweating. He wondered briefly if she was some kind of construct, not that it would matter in the end. She was good, but she was part of whatever had gone wrong with the world. She was part of Luthor's scheme. She was not Kara.

"I don't know who you really are, or what you want--" she shouted. "but you're not Superman! What have you done with him?"

Superman tried not to smile. He had asked her the same thing a few seconds ago. He cleared his throat as though he were about to speak, careful not to make any sudden moves. Then he whistled--

The sound was loud and clear for about the space of a heartbeat, then it began to swiftly rise in pitch. Superman saw Turpin's nose spew blood, and a second later he and the policewoman fell unconscious. Moments later the rest of the police dropped off, the shielding of their helmets protecting them somewhat before the ultrasound of Superman's high-pitched whistle took effect. The crowd collapsed as the wave of sound reached them as well, and within a few seconds the only ones standing were him and Matrix.

He had wanted to break the girl's concentration, and he had, he could tell--but she was more resilient than he had imagined. He increased the intensity of his sonic attack, thinking of the Black Canary as the windows of nearby buildings shattered under his assault. He saw the girl stagger then, finally. She grabbed at her ears as her form stuttered and started to melt. The beautiful golden hair of Supergirl receded back into the girl's head, and her skin began to fade to a moldy, mottled pink. Her curvaceous body seemed to lose mass as her breasts sank back into her chest and her hips trimmed and straightened. She screamed, and her face lost its form and complexion, stretching out of shape in one instant, then compacting in the next. For a moment she seemed to take on the appearance of Lana Lang, and Superman almost faltered in his assault. But then her face lost all form save for the wide black orbs of her eyes and the gaping hole of her mouth, and the Man of Steel relaxed. The girl shuddered, her form the vaguest resemblance of human, unisex and naked, then she collapsed.

He flew to her side as she hit the ground, catching her at the last possible instant and easing her to the cold hard stone of the sidewalk. She was not breathing, but he suspected that she did not actually have to. She was warm though, and he could feel something moving within, vague but there to his heightened touch--a heartbeat? She was alive in some sense of the word. Superman laid her gently aside and stood.

He had learned long ago that psychics, mentalists needed to concentrate in order to use their powers. Hector Hammond, Psimon, even J'onn J'onzz; they were all the same. The girl--Matrix--used telekinesis, and some of her powers were autonomic. Regardless, somewhere in her mind was a relay that kept those powers functioning. Superman theorized that a high-pitched, ultrasonic sound would addle her just enough to knock her out without doing any lasting damage. He had expected the normal humans in the area to succumb as well, but he hoped he had not damaged them badly in the process, and a quick scan with his hearing and X-ray Vision revealed that all were well, just incapacitated. They would wake with a bloody nose and a headache, but all would survive.

No matter the fact that the girl was a foe and not even technically alive as far as he could tell, he could not bring himself to harm her. She had been misled, corrupted. Just like the Justice League. Just like the Guardian and apparently Dan Turpin. He had no idea where the real Supergirl was, but she had been replaced by this Matrix. And Matrix did not seem truly evil. She seemed almost . . . naïve.

Whoever was behind all of this--and he was starting to suspect that it was bigger than Luthor--they had to be stopped. He needed answers. He needed to find out who had changed Metropolis and his friends. His world! And he would, if he had to bring down every villain that he had ever faced, every villain that he knew. He needed to put the world right, no matter what it took.

Superman braced, ready to leap away into space and heard the crashing of timber within the burning building. The tenement fire was starting to rage, but he had inadvertently knocked out the firemen on the scene. The building would be lost, too late to save, but there were other buildings nearby--inhabited buildings. Superman rose into the sky.

He soared over the roof of the burning building, surveying the damage already done, and the potential damage that might come. He scanned the area, making sure that no one was or would be in danger, then he simply clapped his hands. He directed the energy of the contained blow into the structure, using just enough force by his quick calculations to drive the air out of the tenement and the surrounding area, creating in essence a vacuum. The fire flared as it gasped for life, trying to keep its grip on the remnants of the building. Smoke billowed up, exploding from shattered windows as the oxygen was forced out of the structure. Superman took a page from Barry Allen's book and began to twirl his arms at a blinding speed, catching the smoke and flame in the vortex that he created and dispersing it into the sky. Within moments the fire was out and smoldering. When the firemen woke up they would hose the building down and clean up. That was their job. His was done.

He had no more time to waste . . .

Part 9: Minutes and Seconds

89° South- the Transantarctic Mountains, Antarctica:
9:32 a.m. EST

"So how long do we have to wait?"

Kyle Rayner scooped up another handful of snow and started to pack it together into the shape of a ball. He held it up, examining it for a moment to make sure that it was properly round and firm, then chucked it with all of his might out across the vast field of white. It splattered against one of the many snow statues that he had crafted during the first hour, thumping into the sculpted representation of the Batman's head with a satisfying 'chuff'. It hung there, making the Batman look as though he had a sizable bump on his forehead.

Kyle Rayner grinned, looking up to see Wonder Woman smiling as well.

"That's not nice, Kyle."

"Hey! I won't tell him if you don't."

They laughed.

The Green Lantern and Wonder Woman had been waiting in the frigid winds and subzero temperatures of Antarctica for over two hours. Waiting more or less patiently for a radio message from the Batman telling them that all had been resolved, or at least that they might come home. After their encounter with Superman in Metropolis, the Batman had supposed that he might travel to his Fortress of Solitude in Antarctica to regroup, to gather his thoughts before his next actions. It was a valid thought, though none of them in the League could hazard to guess what Superman was about.

The Man of Steel had shown signs of stress--at least according to Plastic Man, and he had intervened unasked in several of the members of the League's solo missions. It was probable that he was merely trying to help, but his bearing and demeanor had been bordering on arrogant. He had come in like an all-knowing father, solving the problem of the moment without the slightest leave, then rushing on to his next mission. It was as though he suddenly felt that he had to solve all of the world's problems himself, and instantly.

The members of the League had noted too that his powers had seemingly increased to handle the jobs. He seemed stronger, and as fast as the Flash suddenly--speed personified. His special visions were enhanced as well. All of his senses in fact, as far as they could determine. It had seemed odd. Strange, but in a way, a blessing as well.

At least until he had attacked Lex Luthor.

The Justice League had confronted him in Metropolis, outside of Luthor's offices in the uppermost floors of his LexCorp Tower. When they had arrived, Superman was dangling Lex Luthor out over the street, hundreds of feet below. It was a tactic more suited to the Batman and not the Man of Steel. They all knew that there was no love lost between Luthor and Superman, but as they had spoken to their friend, as the Batman tried to convince the Man of Steel to release Luthor, they all began to suspect that something was terribly wrong.

Superman seemed to think that Luthor was a wanted criminal; a felon that had escaped jail. Lex Luthor was a convicted felon true, but his crimes had been minor, and everything he had done since that some might have considered illegal were done within the bounds of the law--barely. Luthor was not a fool, and he was not one to be caught so easily, but Superman had thought differently. He had accused the businessman of trying to kill him on several past occasions, and of having tried to take over the world. He was probably correct, and every member of the League knew it. But Luthor was not so blatant a man to allow himself to be so incriminated.

Superman was wrong in his tactics if not his motives, but frankly, no one knew what to do about it. No one save Batman.

The Dark Knight detective had ordered J'onn J'onzz to follow the Man of Steel as he sped north after releasing Luthor. Follow in ways that only the Martian Manhunter could. He had ordered Green Lantern and Wonder Woman to Antarctica to stand watch at Superman's home away from home; his Fortress of Solitude, just in case the Kryptonian showed up there. That had been over two hours ago--

"We wait until Batman tells us differently, Kyle."

Wonder Woman finally answered the Green Lantern's question, though he had already suspected the answer. He settled with a sigh into the glowing green recliner that he had created with the energies of his ring. He was bored and restless. The stark beauty of the sub-polar continent had worn thin within the first few minutes of their watch, and he had had to find something to occupy his imagination. He had tried drawing for a bit, creating a pad and pencil from his ring as he had in the past, but he found that he kept sketching Wonder Woman, and each drawing became progressively more provocative. He had used his ring then to sculpt in the snow and actually enjoyed himself for a bit, creating fairly good likenesses of most of the members of the Justice League. But soon enough that too became old and he reverted to type. He started complaining.

"How's Donna?"

Kyle looked up to find Wonder Woman standing before the statue of herself that he had crafted. He was a little embarrassed to see that he had gotten some of the more delicate proportions off. He hoped that she did not notice.

"She's . . . fine. Why do you ask?"

Wonder Woman turned. "Your sculpture. It's very good, but it looks more like her than me. At least in the face."

Diana smiled and Kyle felt his skin burn with embarrassment. He could see what she meant though, now that he saw her right beside the sculpture. Diana looked so much like his girl friend, Donna Troy--the Titan Troia--they could be actual sisters, instead of 'adopted' Amazon sisters.

"I don't see her as much as I would like to. There were times when we were younger, we were almost inseparable. I miss talking with her."

"Hey!" Kyle shrugged, "You're both busy women. Out saving the world on a regular basis, trying to hold down a job and a life. Hell, I hardly see her anymore."

Diana nodded and Kyle watched her stroll over to the Superman sculpture. She stared at it for a time, almost longingly he thought. He knew that they had been close for a time, and half the world figured that they were secretly an item. But Kyle knew that for the Man of Steel there was only Lois Lane. The reporter for the Daily Planet was the love of his life and always had been. And for Diana . . .

Kyle did not know. She had never said.

"You cold?" he asked, seeing the vapors of her breath drifting up into the crystal clear sky. She had crossed her arms and was shivering slightly. She glanced back--

"A little. I can usually take the cold, but it is a bit extreme."

"Says the woman in the red, white and blue bathing suit." Kyle concentrated and almost as soon as he envisioned it a long, green parka appeared around the Amazon princess. "One tres chic parka, cut to fit." The ring naturally protected Kyle from temperature extremes, among other things, but he fashioned a coat for himself as well, a shorter, trendier version.

She smiled, fluffing the solid light hood up about her ears. "Thank you, kind sir. You are a gentleman, despite what Wally says."

"Sure, I--Hey!"

They both jumped as their communicators blared, cutting through the quiet of the icy wastes. Diana answered without hesitation, holding the small device in hand and seeing the image of her teammate, Plastic Man.

"Hey guy and doll! How's things in the Great White South?" Plastic Man's face was elongated even more than usual on the small view screen. His hair was shaped into a mock up of a knit stocking cap that actually seemed to go along with the huge dark goggles he perpetually wore. His face was plastered with a wide, ear to ear grin.

"We're fine," Diana answered wiping frost from the screen. "Any word?"

"Nary a blip from the big bat's radar. Sorry." Diana watched as Plastic Man's head morphed into a facsimile of the Batman's pointed cowl, colored red and black. "I was dialin' 411 to see if y'all had heard from our favorite Martian, actually?"

Wonder Woman frowned. "No. Not since he left us in Metropolis. Why?"

Plastic Man's head reverted to normal for a moment as he scratched it. "Well, not too long after he did his Byrd impression an' flew north he vanished off the radar. I figured that maybe he was playin' hard to get, y'know, an' went desolid. That mucks up the JLA tracker somethin' fierce. Take it from someone who knows, seein' how I sit in front of the monitors for hours on end. Not that I'm complainin' mind you. God knows it's a regular riot!" Plastic Man took on the appearance of a red faced Jackie Gleason complete with a bus driver's cap. "It's been awhile though. Should I be worried, Alice?"

"Did you contact Batman?"

"Not on yer life, toots! I'm already on the Moon. No telling where he might 'Bang! Zoom!' me from here. You know how cranky he gets."

Wonder Woman sighed. "All right, Plastic Man. Teleport us to the Watchtower. I agree with you. Something does not sound right with J'onn. We'll have better luck locating him there."

"Aye, Cap'n! Energizin'!"

Wonder Woman did not recognize the final man that Plastic Man impersonated, but she was certain that the impression was quite funny as she went to stand with Kyle. A moment later and they were going to the Moon.

NEXT ISSUE: More on the mystery of Superman as the Batman makes a visit to the Daily Planet. Front page news!