Manhattan:
It was cold…
Not quite autumn, but there was already a fierce chill in the air, a
cool breeze rolling through the high granite canyons of
Manhattan. Everyone had bundled against the cold, wrapping in
coats and hats cursing at the winds threatening to strip their layers
away as they struggled through the streets. Still, the crisp wind
was a welcome relief from the heat and humidity of summer that usually
lingered well into fall and had only vanished the day before. The
bizarre and devastating storms of a few months prior were being blamed
for the current weather pattern, raging tempests that had sprung up
instantly all around the Tri-State, blasting through the city and then
just as quickly dispersing leaving New York flooded and drenched in
their aftermath. A strange weather pattern in the Middle East was
apparently the culprit some said. Others blamed El Nino.
Richards knew better…
“Any change?”
Reed Richards lowered his binoculars with a sigh, wiping at the fog
misting the lenses with his thumb as he glanced back at the man near
his side. Special SHIELD Agent James Woo seemed unperturbed by
the sudden cold snap dressed in a trim black suit and tie without the
additional layers of an overcoat of any kind. He was simply
standing there staring out across the rooftops at the building in the
distance, one hand in his pocket, the other flicking ash from a
smoldering cigarette. He did not seem concerned in the least,
with the cold or- more importantly- why they were there. He
simply kept staring, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his eyes hidden
behind the shadowed lenses of his dark Ray Bans.
“Nothing,” Richards said, pouring himself a cup of coffee
from the thermos that they were sharing. It was almost empty, but
there would be another along soon enough, hopefully with some cream and
sugar this time. Sue would be pissed of course, but Reed needed
the pick me up. He was getting tired and starting to ache.
“He knows we’re here, and he’s watching us. He
doesn’t seem to care in the least.”
“His kind rarely do, Professor,” Woo said, chaining a fresh
cigarette and tossing the other to the tarmac of the rooftop, crushing
it out underfoot. “Megalomania generally makes them feel
superior to us lesser men. As you no doubt well know.”
Richards smiled slightly, twisted, nodding as he held the binoculars
out to his impromptu partner. “Indeed I do,” Reed
said, “all too well, unfortunately.”
James Woo shook his head, declining the binoculars. “My
eyesight is rather exceptional,” he said taking a long drag off
of his cigarette, “I can see the building well enough, and most
of what is happening. I have an aversion to sunlight however, a
slight problem of photosensitivity of late.”
Richards nodded, sipping at his coffee as a strong wind whipped and
tugged at the tails of his long coat. He shivered, remembering
how he had not even wanted to wear the thing but Sue had
insisted. He was glad now that he had listened. Still, he
tugged at his collar and folded it up against the wind slicing at his
ears and neck. Only in New York…
“I wish I knew what it was that he expects to gain from all of
this,” Richards said, turning his gaze back towards the tall
building in the distance. On the outside it really did not appear
any different from any other building on Manhattan Island. It was
tall and dark, a thing of steel and stone and glass molded to the
specifications of a designer no doubt long dead. The Keystone
Building however was a simple façade on the outside. The
interior, at least the upper floors- above the numerous legitimate
businesses that operated throughout the first seventy-odd stories-
housed one of the many bases of a world-renowned businessman, and
criminal mastermind.
Doctor Midas had been around for years, unknown and ignored as he
gathered information and technology, creating an empire of sorts
equivalent to the likes of Stark, Hammer, Trump and Shaw. The man
was a wily wizard in the ways of business, and more so in the
procurement of those things that he desired, spending millions on a
whim if need be. According to the West Coast Avengers, Midas was
a madman- albeit an extremely wealthy one who had somehow actually
bought an old and abandoned suit of the Iron Man’s armor.
It was his trademark now, the obsolete and cumbersome golden suit that
the man never seemed to take off. He was eccentric, apparently, a
billionaire with delusions of grandeur and dreams of glory and
power. It was those billions that had purchased him the abandoned
lot of ground that had once been the Baxter Building and all the air
space around it.
“Power, Professor,” Woo said, taking a long drag on his
cigarette. “The West Coast Avengers logged many files
focusing on Doctor Midas and their encounter with him and his daughter,
his machinations. He wants what he considers to be real power,
far and beyond what he might muster from stolen armor and
patents. He wishes to be a Marvel.
Worse of course, he wishes to be the
Marvel; the most powerful of the cosmic entities. Again, a mind
set you are probably well acquainted with.”
Reed Richards, Mister Fantastic and leader of the world famous
Fantastic Four nodded, shivering again as he sipped at his
coffee. He remembered Doom- painfully flexing the fingers of his
almost useless hand- and all of his mad schemes, most of which had
almost succeeded but for his own brilliant mind or sheer dumb
luck. He remembered when Doom had actually stolen the Cosmic
Powers of the Silver Surfer and how close they had all come to
annihilation but for Victor Von Doom’s vanity and pride.
Midas by all accounts he had heard and read was barely a notch below
Doom in that respect.
“But what does he want?” Richards asked, staring at that
spot almost midway between where he stood and the Keystone
Building. If he stared hard, squinting slightly he could almost
see the sparkling energies that marked the Zone of Distortion, the
opening that led to the Negative Zone. “There’s
nothing there. In all my studies and explorations I have never
found a single thing within the Negative Zone that would be worth all
his effort. Midas is after power, and granted, there is energy
there abounding, but in all my efforts I’ve never found a way to
contain the vast power resonating within the Anti-matter Realm. I
can hardly believe that he has-“
“Never underestimate insanity, Professor Richards,” Woo
said flicking another cigarette to the rooftop. “Poe was on
edge when he wrote the Raven, and many people wonder just how sane
Einstein was when he discovered the secrets of the universe.
Doctor Octavius, Doom, Magneto…
“Where does one draw the line between sanity and savant?”
“You’re getting just a bit metaphysical for me, Agent
Woo. My reality, my sanity is based in what I can prove and
experience. Midas too I imagine. He might have delusions of
grandeur, but I doubt he would throw it all away on a whim of
half-baked theories. He’s after something concrete, I just
can’t imagine what it might be.”
You will,” Woo said, sparking another cigarette to life.
“SHIELD has faith, Doctor Richards.”
“I wish I did…”
Reed Richards shrugged and tossed his crumpled coffee cup to the
rooftop. He sighed again, adjusting his stance, repositioning his
cane as he raised his binoculars to his eyes once more, staring at the
rooftop far away, just over a mile distant, searching for that curious
glint of gold that he knew would be there…
Watching him…
“Idiots…”
The man called Doctor Midas lowered his binoculars and took a long,
hard drag from his cigar. He stared hard at that building just
outside the area of Restraint, just over a mile away. SHIELD knew
its limits even if Richards did not. Legal had done a spectacular
job of limiting the efficiency of the Fantastic Four, SHIELD, the
Avengers and all the other government agencies that might have come
sniffing around. He would have to remember that come bonus time
next Christmas.
Midas stepped up to roof’s edge, lowering the polarized shields
in his helmet that would cut the stray glare of the noonday sun and
allow him to once again view the spectacular majesty seeping from the
Negative Zone. He cast his gaze skyward, towards that spot just a
few dozen feet above, half a mile away where the energies of two
opposing universes collided and made magic. It was
beautiful…
Richards was a fool to not see, and not find a way to tap that
potential. Luckily, Doctor Midas was made of sterner stuff and
greater vision.
It had been a long hard row to hoe, not only to acquire the desired
property but to get it in such a way as to keep all the offending
parties away. Aside from Richards there had been a bid from some
family named Janus not to mention the government of Wakanda.
Midas had had to use not a few of his favors to garner the site, and
then to convince the city that his intentions were sound. A few
greased palms in the right places had helped speed along that process,
though at no little expense. In the end however, it would be well
worth the price. If not for the West Coast Avengers-
Damn Stark and Barton! Damn them to hell!
It had taken forever, though he had set the wheels in motion years
ago. Ever since he had first seen that creature on the
news. Annhilus!
Such a stupid name…
Doctor Midas saw the potential though, and more, he had seen the
Rod. The Cosmic Control Rod…
Wasn’t the Internet a wonderful thing?
Richards and his family, and the Avengers had beaten the creature from
the Negative Zone back through the portal, but at what cost?
Midas could not believe the stories he had read in the Blogs, the
conversations he had eavesdropped on in the Chat Rooms. The
power…
Doctor Midas shivered, biting down on his inner cheek as he tried to
regain his center. He took a long drag from his cigar, stale blue
smoke roiling out of every orifice in his golden mask-
“Sir…”
“What!” Midas shrieked, spinning on the little man in the
black kevlar and jackboots. The soldier- one of his own snapped
to attention, stuttering-
“D-D-Doctor Harris n-needs you in the R-ready Room,
sir…”
“Of course he does,” Midas sneered, flicking the butt of
his cigar over the roof’s edge. He glanced back across the
expanse, striking a heroic pose for Richards and his Spook. He
placed his hands on his hips, cape cracking and fluttering in the
breeze-
“Great minds think alike,” Doctor Midas said, staring at
the building across the way, then glancing at the portal to the
Negative Zone a final time before turning towards the elevator-
It was beautiful…
“Lead on, soldier…”
A cloud of blue-gray smoke roiled from the elevator car as the doors
rumbled open, spiraling slowly up and away caught on the internal
air. It was cold in the aero-tech laboratory, the air
conditioning set low to better stave off summer’s humidity should
it rear its ugly head again and damage any of the delicate machinery
within the vast room. The huge lab was crammed full of machines,
some old and almost obsolete, others state of the art, each with a
unique and designated purpose and all focused on the experiments
centered in the room. There were almost as many people in the
room as machines, again each with a special purpose, their jobs
focusing on the experiments of Doctor Midas in one way or
another. Scientists lined the walls and scurried about the room,
monitoring the machinery, taking notes, adjusting dials and pushing
buttons as lights flashed and pinged. Security Guards were
scattered about the room as well, interspersed among the scientists and
monitoring them; guns held high and stoic faces hidden behind the dark
Plexiglas of their crash helmets.
All eyes turned as Doctor Midas strode from the elevator car, smoke
billowing in his wake, parting for him as though he were a man of
Biblical proportion. In a way, perhaps he was. He strode
proudly out amongst his people like some ancient Pharaoh, his eyes
flitting about the vast room taking in everything as his footfalls
echoed, resounding off of old and yellowed tiles. His armor
seemed almost to whine with every step as the archaic magnetic
compensators strained just to hold the heavy armor upright let alone
decrease the mass factor. Doctor Midas did not seem to notice or
care and most eyes quickly averted back to their tasks as he made his
way through the throng of his employees, bee-lining for one in
particular; Doctor Harris, Project Annihilation’s Director.
Before he reached the director however, a lithe form intercepted him,
hugging him in an almost inappropriate, albeit improbable display of
affection-
“Daddy,” Oubliette squealed, sheer pleasure and pride
crackling in her otherwise sultry voice. Her dark emerald eyes
seemed to spark as she stared up into the similar eyes of the man in
the golden armor, her hands roaming wildly across the coldness of his
metallic back plate beneath his cape. Behind the cigar wedged
into the mouth slit of his helmet Doctor Midas afforded a smile for the
most important thing in his life- other than himself of course.
“Oubliette,” he said pushing his daughter back to
arm’s length as his gaze drifted over her well-rounded
form. She was dressed, not in her usual leathers of black hood,
corset and stilettoed hip boots, but rather a snug and form-fitting
containment suit that had been developed by NASA for their Star Core
scientists several years before. It was less cumbersome than a
standard NASA space suit and had been further adapted by some of the
most brilliant and easily greedy of the world’s best aerospace
engineers. It was designed to withstand the rigors of prolonged
exposure to solar radiation as experienced by those poor souls
sentenced to Star Core One, but the well-paid scientists in the employ
of Doctor Midas had improved on that immensely, incorporating
safeguards against theoretical dangers that might be faced within the
Negative Zone as recorded by Reed Richards himself in a paper for the
Scientific Journal of America. His daughter made it look good-
“What seems to be the problem this time?” Midas asked, his
gaze lingering for a moment on his daughter’s breasts before
turning towards the Director of his special project. Doctor
Harris was a man in his sixties with thin, wire-rimmed glasses perched
atop his head and almost lost within the last straggly wisps of his
abandoning gray hair. He was thin and gaunt; usually with a
fierce look of determination in his steely blue eyes- a look that
others often considered being madness. In truth, Harris was the
quintessential image of the Hammer Film’s Mad Scientist, Peter
Cushing with a hangover. He would have been well respected in his
chosen profession if not for his drinking problem. Now he just
looked pathetic and scared as Oubliette ratted him out-
“Harris is having trouble with the Power Couplings, Daddy,”
the Exterminatrix sneered with a cruel smile, piercing Harris with her
dagger like gaze. She clutched onto Midas’ arm lovingly;
caressing her cheek against the rough material of his cape as both
father and daughter stared at the old man. He looked pale, almost
quaking under their scrutiny-
“Is that true, doctor?” Midas asked, rolling his fresh
cigar to the edge of his mouth slit in a cloud of smoke. Harris
licked his lips and shifted his own gaze momentarily to the handsome
man all but locked into the huge frame of the secondary experiment in
the room. That man was handsome if not distinguished, his dark
hair tinged with the slightest gray at the temples, his bare muscles
rippling as they flexed to support his weight upon the St.
Andrew’s Cross-like apparatus that held him. He smiled to
see Harris squirm, a nasty thing.
“It’s not my fault, Doctor Midas,” Harris whined
stepping forward. Immediately two guards stepped between their
boss and the scientist, guns leveled at the old man’s
chest. Oubliette tittered and hissed in her father’s ear,
but Midas waved them away. The guards stepped back as a fresh
wave of sweat rolled from Harris’ bald pate-
“N-not my f-fault, sir,” Harris squeaked, wiping
perspiration from his brow and wrinkled throat. “The
couplings won’t penetrate his skin, won’t attach securely
enough to get a proper reading.”
“So it’s Nefaria’s fault?” Midas asked,
mockingly, glancing at the Count as he smiled, strapped to the
cross. He looked just a bit like the Christ, or perhaps the
anti-Christ rather as if all went well he might just prove to be
Midas’ salvation.
“To be fair, Midas, perhaps my atomic structure has altered once
again. The Ionic energies within me are in a constant state of
flux after all. The couplings would have worked, and should have
worked as per my last physical.” Count Nefaria smiled
knowingly, but Midas knew that for all his big talk it was all a
bluff. Nefaria was nothing more than a glorified rich boy
extricated from some meaningless and forgotten principality that had
been overrun in some forgotten war. He knew nothing of science,
be it technicalities or energies or barely basic physicalities and thus
surrounded himself with those who did. Throughout the years he
had been extremely lucky, following his mad quest for immortality and
being granted vast power based on the original experiments of the late
Heinrich Zemo. He had become a veritable Superman via a modified
version of Baron Zemo’s original Ionic Converter, that device
that had originally empowered both Wonder Man and Erik Josten- once
Power Man, the Smuggler, Giant Man and now Atlas. Unfortunately,
due to Midas’ own unique DNA and a detrimental side-effect of his
own many quests to gain power that same experiment would not work on
him.
Midas had seen the potential in hiring Nefaria for his own projects
however. The Count Nefaria was not usually one to be
‘hired’, but his own strained budget and waning powers had
outweighed his vanity and the promise of revitalization and wealth
undreamed had been more than enough to put the Count on Midas’
payroll. Nefaria’s almost unique physiology and near
god-like powers made him perfect for a quest into the Negative
Zone. Unfortunately he was an arrogant ass and expected to be
treated as an equal. He often reminded Midas that he had fought
the X-Men and the Avengers, gone toe-to-toe with Thor. Midas
often reminded him that he had lost.
“Be that as it may, Count, Harris is getting paid well to
compensate for those contingencies,” Midas answered, turning
again to face Harris, “isn’t that right, Director?”
“Yessir,” Harris swallowed, wiping at his brow again,
“b-but-“
“If I may, sir?”
All eyes turned towards a young man striding forward, his hands raised
placatingly as the security guards stepped to the fore once
again. Doctor Midas let them stand this time as the handsome
young scientist skidded to a quick stop-
“Who?” he whispered just loud enough that only Oubliette
might hear. His daughter ran a gloved hand over his chest plate
as she leaned closer-
“One of the lesser technicians,” she cooed softly tracing a
finger about the light beacon on her father’s chest.
“Name’s Janus, and his uncle has been to the Zone before, a
one-time friend of Reed Richards I think. That’s why we
hired him mainly, though he’s fairly adept at his craft.”
“Yes, Janus?” Doctor Midas said puffing on his cigar.
It always helped to appear to know the staff, even if you
didn’t. Gave them a sense of self worth and they tried
harder because of it. The young man seemed stunned that he was
actually known, beaming slightly as he pointed to Nefaria-
“From the readings I noticed that the subject’s density and
mass were altering again. I haven’t finished calculating
the exponential's, but I believe I have a solution.”
“Which is?”
“Inventory records show that you have Mark I Mandroid Armor
mothballed in one of your warehouses-“
“True, but it was mothballed because Iron Man originally exposed
the weakness of that version. It’s basically useless in a
firefight-“
“That’s true, sir, but we aren’t going into a
firefight. The weakness won’t come into play, and we can
easily modify the internal circuitry to adapt to Count Nefaria’s
rather unique physiology. Too, the Mandroid armor comes equipped
with external cameras and a sensory web that would allow us to discard
the bulky apparatus that Harris designed that Count Nefaria was to
initially carry, thus freeing up his mobility by seventy percent at a
rough guess. We can modify one of the Star Core suits just a bit
to give the Count a sufficient amount of protection against the
Negative Zone’s queer radiations as well, just in case. The
internal suit shouldn’t disrupt any of the Mandroid Armor’s
functions.” Janus smiled expectantly as Midas glanced from
the younger man to Harris. The director really looked nervous
now, like he just shit his pants-
“Harris?” Midas asked, already knowing the answer by the
doctor’s overwhelming anxiety. “Will it work?”
“We-“ Harris squeaked and cleared his throat,
“we’ll have to run some tests, study the armor and how
Nefaria’s body will react to-“
Doctor Midas waved his hand to shut Harris up and the security guards
shifted their aim to the project director. There was a loud crack
and a flash of energy as Oubliette stepped away from her father, her
whip snaking away from the bloody mark on Harris’ cheek.
The old man whimpered, staggering back as his hand went to the bleeding
gash. Midas looked at Nefaria who nodded and smiled, then back to
the young scientist-
“How long?”
The handsome young man appeared to think for a moment as his eyes
drifted over the curvy form of Oubliette. He suddenly focused
however, looking Doctor Midas squarely in the eyes-
“Six hours at the extreme,” he said with confidence,
looking at Nefaria. “I will need an updated report on his
current make-up, then a bit of time to power up the Mandroid Armor and
adjust its settings to play off of Count Nefaria’s current
physiology, and what it will be expected to be over the next
twenty-four based on the last twelve. If the energy flux spikes
as expected when he enters the Zone of Distortion we’ll need to
compensate on the fly. Richard’s notes are not specific as
to everything that we might expect, nor were your Drone Probes.
Sorry, sir, but-“ Midas waved the young man’s fears away-
“Make it so,” Doctor Midas said as he turned back to
Harris. The old man looked positively green as fear, anger and
envy distorted his face-
“Harris,” he said, and recognizing the tone in her
father’s voice, the way he stood Oubliette the Exterminatrix
cracked her whip again. Harris yelped, his other cheek bleeding
now and a dark stain appearing in the crotch of his high-water
pants. Oubliette giggled-
“Give young Janus all the help and information he might need to
get HIS project up and running,” Midas said, turning to the guard
that had originally come to the roof to get him, “and you,”
the guard snapped to attention, “accompany the two doctors.
If Harris does not comply- kill him!”
“Yessir!” the guard saluted and raised the barrel of his
weapon, training it on the aged doctor. Harris’ eyes went
wide as he started to tremble. His glasses slipped off of his
forehead and settled on the tip of his nose. Midas motioned them
to get on with it as Nefaria chuckled.
Six hours then…
Doctor Midas watched as Janus and Harris trotted off, the security
guard hot on their heels-
“I love it when you give the death sentence,” Oubliette
cooed in his ear, grabbing at his arm again. “It makes me
hot all over.”
“Get some rest, daughter,” Midas said as he looked to
Nefaria, the technicians releasing him from the cross. “I
want you at your best when we are ready to roll. I don’t
fully trust Nefaria, or this Janus. You need to be at one hundred
percent.“
“I always am, Daddy,” his daughter said coyly as she coiled
her whip and hooked it to her belt. She blew him a quick,
affectionate kiss and strutted away towards a rest area, shaking her
ass and glancing back with a smirk. He could hear Nefaria and saw
the older man’s eyes staring at his daughter’s swaying ass
and legs. He had a lecherous, longing look in his dark eyes as he
smirked at Midas.
Midas took a long drag on his cigar and finally strode from the
room. There were other things to attend to, not only
Nefaria’s ability to survive the Zone, but the Star Core
Shuttle’s ability as well. The old battered ship that his
crews had salvaged from Jamaica Bay had seen better days, but it had
proven itself a worthy craft. Doctor Midas had spent millions to
refurbish the thing and patch the damage caused not only by Jean Grey
but the Living Monolith as well as he stumbled about battling Thor and
Spider-Man of all people. The Star Core Shuttle that had carried
the X-Men from the old SHIELD Orbital Platform after a battle with
Stephen Lang and his Sentinels had served its purpose but had seen
better days indeed. Still, Midas’ people had made the craft
worthy once again, refitting the outer tiles to deal with the queer
energies of the Negative Zone, redesigning the interior to store the
mass quantities of energy that Midas hoped to gain and gather should
the shuttle not find Annhilus, or Nefaria not be able to take the
Cosmic Control Rod from him. There were so many variables…
Midas sighed, taking a long drag off of his cigar once again as he
waited for the elevator doors to rumble shut again. His mind was
racing as he listened to the building’s musak, trying his best to
calculate the possible percentage of contingencies as an Instrumental
of ‘Like a Virgin’ echoed inside his helmet. Too, he
wanted to look at Richards again, maybe flip him the bird this time.
Six hours…
A lot could happen in six hours…
 |
The
World's Greatest Superheroes.....
Vs
Prelude: ONE
|
|
JLA
#29-
June, Year 3
|
by Curt
Fernlund
Plot by Curt Fernlund and Chris Munn
|
Active Roster: JLA
AquaMan |
Atom |
Batman |
Black Canary |
Firestorm |
Flash |
Green
Lantern |
Martian
Manhunter |
Red Tornado |
Superman |
Wonder Woman |
Plastic Man
|
Zatanna
|
Lois Lane
|
|
|
|
|
Active
Roster: Avengers
Beast
|
Black
Panther
|
Captain
America
|
Hawkeye |
Iron Man
|
Quicksilver
|
Scarlet
Witch
|
Thor |
Warbird |
Wasp
|
James Woo
|
Mister Fantastic
|
The Time Stream:
Some when just short of the
end…
The Cosmic Treadmill bucked, rattling and shaking as a wave on force
rolled over it, buffeting it about. It swayed oddly and everyone
grabbed their support bars tighter trying to ride out the
turbulence. Colors swirled and flared as the pale green shield
wavered under the onslaught and all within stared in awe at the majesty
passing by before the screen went opaque once again.
“What the hell was that?” Lois Lane yelled over the steady
whine of the spinning treadmill. She could see sparks flying from
the machinery as the Flash ran on, his body little more than a red
blur, a ghostly image at the fore of the machine.
“Magic,” Zatanna said, holding on for dear life as the
treadmill bucked again, forcing some of the occupants to their
knees. “Something mystical just swept by, a powerful force
like… I don’t know…”
“I felt it too,” Lois looked up staring at her husband
standing on the far side of the platform near the still forms of his
unconscious parents. Lois wanted nothing more than to run to his
side, hold him and have him hold her in return but of late he had
distanced himself from her, actually announcing that they would be
divorced. Too, any affection on her part would reveal more than
he wanted to share with his allies. Of the League, only a handful
knew of their connection; Batman, Wonder Woman, maybe the Martian
Manhunter. It was probably hard for him too to stand there and
not seem worried about his very parents, Jonathan and Martha Kent.
They had been kidnapped by a being called the Time Trapper and stolen
away to some dark citadel at the very end of time. So had Lois
for that matter, and Superman as well. It was all very strange,
but the Justice League of America had traveled to the future in force
to get them back. Lois was already forgetting all that had
happened, the details of the resolution already gone other than that
the heroes had won, and the rest was disappearing as the group made its
way back to the Twenty-first Century under the power of the
Flash’ speed on a modified Cosmic Treadmill through the Time
Stream.
They were all there, the entire compliment of the JLA’s current
roster, plus Zatanna the magician, daughter of Zatara. Superman
of course stood at the fore of the machine, just behind the Flash
who’s link to the Speed Force was all that seemed to keep them
going, traveling through time. Behind her husband, the Man of
Steel stood Earth’s current Green Lantern, his ring ablaze as he
held up a force shield to protect the occupants of the treadmill from
the devastating forces of Time itself. Too, he focused on a slim
green strand of energy that stretched all the way back to the
Twenty-first Century and the like-minded ring of Alan Scott, the first
Green Lantern, now Sentinel. Scott was their link to the past,
but as Lois watched she could see the glowing green tether wavering,
whipping about in whatever was causing the raucous turbulence in the
Time Stream. The Green Lantern was sweating bullets, his face a
stern grimace of determination as he tried to hold onto Scott’s
lifeline. Lois bit down on her lip, glancing about the platform
to see if anyone else seemed worried-
The Batman looked totally calm and collected of course, hanging onto
his support bar and watching the Flash run.
Wonder Woman and Aquaman stood over the Kents ready to save them if
need be. Diana seemed worried as she held her Magic Lasso
tightly, the glowing rope stretched to its limits and wrapped about
everyone to help hold them in place. Aquaman seemed almost bored.
Firestorm stood near the side of the platform, his hands glowing as he
used his powers somehow, hoping to hold the treadmill together no
doubt. Beside him stood the Red Tornado, the slightest breeze
ruffling his cape as he used his powers to try and compensate the
turbulence, his flat and generic face showing no emotion.
The Black Canary, Plastic Man and the Atom hung on for dear life as
tightly as Lois herself. Atom’s eyes sparkled with the
wonder of it all, but Black Canary and Plastic Man really looked
terrified. This was just as beyond them as it was her-
“Flash?” she heard Clark ask as another wave of force
rocked the treadmill, “Do you need help? Are you-“
“Fine,” Flash shouted as he ran on. His legs were
churning, a blur to Lois as she held tight to the treadmill, his body a
wispy blur of red and lightning flickering in the distance.
“J’onn and I can help,” Superman said stepping
forward, “we can add our speed to yours-“
“N-no…” Flash said, his voice cracking from the
strain. “Fuck up the rhythm…”
The treadmill tilted over forty-five degrees and everyone
screamed! Well, Lois screamed anyway. Zatanna was mumbling
something as Green Lantern grabbed his wrist and focused on his
ring’s energy-
“Losing it…” he said, his face awash in sweat, his
eyes locked on the glowing green tendril that stretched on towards
infinity. “Something,” he stuttered,
“something’s blocking the lead!”
“What?” Batman shouted, his hand on the Lantern’s
shoulder. Lois felt the treadmill shudder again and heard a
cracking sound-
“Jesus…” the Atom said as he stared at a crack
exploding across the platform. He pointed and everyone else
looked-
“Firestorm!” The Batman shouted and Firestorm stepped up-
“On it!”
Lois Lane watched as Firestorm’s hands glowed and the crack in
the platform seemed to mend itself and disappear. She heard
Zatanna scream then, saw her husband catch her still form as she
collapsed-
“Wally!”
“D-dunno…” Flash responded, a disembodied voice that
swept about them, “n-never… I don’t… Hold
on…”
The treadmill rocked again and Lois heard a crack as though the world
had exploded. She saw the League leap into action, some
protecting the Kents, Superman and J’onn J’onzz leaping
onto the treadmill itself to aid the Flash. Wonder Woman was
shouting, but Lois could not hear what she said as the Cosmic Treadmill
bucked and burst, the platform breaking apart as a wave of energy
washed over them again. Green Lantern screamed and Plastic Man
was suddenly at her side, wrapping about her and enveloping her in his
body-
“I got’cha Lo-lo, not to worry-“
Lois found it hard to breathe as Plastic Man wrapped about her.
She saw the Atom growing as lightning flashed about them, crackling,
breaking up the platform. There was no thunder oddly. She
found that strange-
“No…” she whined as Plastic Man enveloped her and
expanded, his pliable body shielding her from damage becoming plush and
spongy. Her last sight was of the Martian Manhunter and her
husband running full tilt, their bodies blurring as they faded from
existence and joining the Flash in the Time Stream…
She heard something, a muffled explosion…
She smelled fire and brimstone, the stench of magic-
“Clark…” she said, but her cry went unheard as the
world shifted and went away…
The Watchtower:
Talia stared down at the immobile bodies of Jay Garrick, Max Mercury
and Alan Scott. They were smoldering, scattered and unconscious
about the JLA’s Conference Room in the Watchtower. Only
Garrick and Mercury were smoldering slightly actually. Sentinel
was glowing green.
Odd…
Talia stared at the strange and shattered contraption that lay in their
midst. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she was not certain just
what it might be. It was a huge construct with running platforms
as well as an area set aside for passengers. Mobile then, though
she could see no means of propulsion in the remains; no wheels and only
the tread that seemed the power source somehow.
Strange…
Still, she took pictures, her digital camera quickly filling a memory
card, and a second before she moved on. Whatever the members of
the Justice Society were up to was no concern of her. They were
secondary to her father’s objectives and best left to their own
rewards. She had her own mission to contend with. She
nudged Garrick with the toe of her boot but he did not moan nor
move. He was out. They all were…
Talia left the three unconscious members of the All-Star Squadron
behind and made her way deeper into the complex. She was
surprised to not find a single member of the League thus far in
residence and on Monitor Duty. Relieved but surprised. She
was of course prepared for confrontations, but hoped to avoid them if
possible. The small bit of manufactured Kryptonite burned in the
pouch at her hip…
The Monitor Womb seemed to sparkle before her in all its glory.
The Host chair waited, the images of a thousand news feeds flickering
up far and away into the central shaft that made up the Womb. She
did not care about the state of the world of course, and the recent
news was of no import but this was her final destination- that place
where she might best access the JLA computers unmolested.
She knew that she had already been accepted by security, her form
disguised as Sue Dibny, an honorary member of the JLA and accepted by
all, her statistics fed into the main computers, her form remembered at
every embassy around the world and at the Watchtower itself.
Talia knew that the wife of the Elongated Man and Financial Coordinator
of the Justice League Europe had access to all the JLA’s most
private secrets, all the embassies no matter they were dysfunctional,
all the computer records up to a point. Everyone loved and
trusted Sue Dibny…
Everyone loved and trusted Talia as she sat in the chair of the Monitor
Womb and keyed in the vital statistics of Ralph Dibny’s wife,
waiting as the computer cycled and acknowledged her presence as
acceptable. It took almost ten minutes, but Talia had learned
patience long ago…
A holographic box appeared before her as the floating chair in the
Monitor Womb slowly turned…
PASSWORD…
Talia smiled. The same word of access would not have worked in
the Bat Cave, but here on the Moon security was lax. They were
far above humanity after all. Her beloved had set up the initial
security, but it had degraded under the watchful eye of the Martian
Manhunter. He was far too trusting-
“Pennyworth.”
Talia’s smile grew as the files of the Justice League opened to
her spoken command. All of their secrets, their hopes and dreams,
their weaknesses were just a word away- a click of the mouse-
“Open File 18329, ‘Fallacies’,” she said
settling into the chair. She watched as the Womb cycled, the
images flickering and changing to accommodate her command. Little
did the League know what the Batman really thought of them.
“Download,” she said, “Transfer and copy files to
Server 187 426 999 Demon…”
Talia saw the surge of power as the computers sifted the commands she
had given, then settled in to comply. Knowing how long-winded her
beloved could be, she relaxed in to wait…
Talia shifted forward as the computer suddenly stalled, the Download
Box stuttering as something intercepted her information and slowed
everything to a slow crawl. She stared at the holographic
options, her brow wrinkling, failing to see a command that would free
her from the current problem-
“Abort!” she said with a frown, then-
“Divert!”
Nothing…
The screens winked out one by one, growing dark as she watched,
commanding the Chair to lower her to the floor. Something was
most definitely wrong, but she had no idea what-
“Refresh…”
“Reboot!”
Nothing…
Talia stood as soon as the chair touched down, biting her lip as she
looked about. Maybe Garrick or Scott had woken up and discovered
her- but no. If that were the case she would be bound head to toe
in green energy or cord of some sort, a victim of Garrick’s
ungodly speed.
Something was happening…
Something was going on…
But what?
Talia did not know, nor did she care. It was time to go.
Let her father sort it out. Ra’s Al Ghul was the smartest
man on the face of the Earth save perhaps for her beloved. He
would know.
He would deal with it.
Talia ran…
To Be
Continued...
Next
Issue: Head on over to Marvel 2000 for the next chapter, the
second Prelude in the Greatest Crossover of all Time! Be there
for Avengers Vs. JLA Part Two! A view from the other side of
reality…
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Reviews, Comments, and Other Mail to Curtis Fernlund
Story © 2005 Curt
Fernlund and
Chris Munn
and may not be reproduced without permission.