Due for a Fall

"Ms. Kane!"

Jeffrey shook his employer's shoulder for the third time. Finally, the billionaire took off the headset and stared blankly ahead for a few seconds.

Then, suddenly, Kathy Kane flew into a rage. "Don't ever do that again! If you come in here again when I tell you I don't want to be disturbed, I'll fire you on the spot!! Is that clear?"

"But, Ms. Kane," her secretary stammered, "I've been buzzing you for the past half hour! It's eight o'clock and your niece called, worried about . . ."

"IS THAT CLEAR, JEFFREY?" Katherine Kane roared.

The young man sheepishly nodded his assent.

"Then get out . . . AND STAY OUT!!" she ordered.

Jeffrey backed out of the office, closing the doors behind him. He had always considered Katherine Kane to be a friend, as well as his employer. He had never heard her talk to anyone like that.

It was not unusual for Ms. Kane to work late, even all night. Jeffrey was aware that her niece Betty, who lived with her, could take care of herself quite well . . .

But something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He was sure of that. He called Betty Kane to tell her that it looked probable that her aunt would not be coming home that evening. He also asked if perhaps she might stop by the Networld offices the next day after school . . .

Meanwhile, inside her office, Kathy once again dialed the number for the Crypt Robber order line. The voice recited, "The current rate for thirty minutes of game time is $16,000 . . ." Without a second thought, Katherine Kane again punched in her credit card number.

Late the next afternoon, Betty Kane arrived at the reception area to her aunt's private office at Networld. She was met by a very worried Jeffrey.

"Hi, Jeffrey," Betty called brightly. Seeing how concerned Jeffrey was, she asked, "What's going on?"

"It's your Aunt, Betty," the secretary began. "I didn't want to worry you last night, but I'm afraid something is very much the matter with her."

Betty frowned. She had always considered her Aunt Kathy to be indestructible. "Oh, I wouldn't worry, Jeffrey. You know how Aunt Kathy gets when she gets involved in a project."

"But that's just it!" Jeffrey whined. "As far as I can tell, she's not doing any work at all! She isn't taking any calls and she hasn't seen anyone since yesterday morning. When I went in there last night, she almost bit my head off!"

"That doesn't sound like Aunt Kathy," Betty said, mostly to herself, shaking her head.

"As far as I can tell," Jeffrey concluded, "all she's done for more than the past 24 hours is play some sort of game!"

"A game?" Betty asked incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

Jeffrey filled Betty in on the visit of the mysterious Ms. Hefner.

"Well, I'll get to the bottom of this, right now!" Betty started for the doors to Katherine Kane's private office.

"I wouldn't go in there, if I were you!" Jeffrey advised.

"Don't worry, Jeffrey," Betty said with a kind smile. "She can't fire me!"

Betty walked into her Aunt's private office, closing the doors behind her. The sight that lay before her shocked the fifteen year old as much as anything she had witnessed in her young life.

Betty had never seen Katherine Kane look so awful. Sitting at her desk, she was deathly pale. Her hair, usually beautifully kept, was a disheveled mess. Her blouse was open almost to the top of her bra and Betty could see sweat stains under her arms. The billionaire was staring straight into the eyepieces in front of her eyes and headphones were securely placed over her ears. If she was aware of Betty entering the room, she gave no sign of it.

"Aunt Kathy!" screamed Betty. She ran over to her Aunt and yanked the headset off of her.

Five, ten, fifteen seconds passed. Katherine Kane remained oblivious to her niece's presence, staring straight ahead. Then, suddenly, she turned and yelled at Betty, "JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?"

Betty fought to maintain her composure. Her Aunt had never yelled at her like that before. "Aunt Kathy, this game is doing something to you! You're under its spell or -"

"Nonsense!" Katherine blurted, while patting her hopelessly matted hair. "Just because I've decided to take a little break from the pressures of running Networld -"

"A little break?" Betty responded incredulously. "Jeffrey tells me you've been playing this stupid game for more than a day straight! and look at you! You're a mess!"

"All right, if you must know, this game is a new product I'm testing," Kathy said defensively. "I'll admit I do tend to get a bit obsessed when I'm working on a big business deal, but it's certainly not unusual or anything to worry about."

Betty started to object, but her aunt cut her off with a raised index finger, "Now, was there something else you wanted?"

The resourceful teen thought fast. "Why, yes, Aunt Kathy." Betty lowered her voice. "The Bat-signal was in the sky all last night. Evidently, Batman and Robin were unavailable. I wondered if Commissioner Gordon had called Batwoman."

"Er . . . no," Kathy lied. She really had no idea if her Batwoman cell-phone pager had gone off. She was totally consumed by the game . . . and she was becoming quite anxious to return to it. "Perhaps Batman and Robin finally showed up . . . or Batgirl appeared . . . or maybe the police took care of whatever the problem was themselves.

"In any case, I have things to do. Please go."

Betty could hardly believe her ears. Ever since the murder of Betty's parents by burglars while Betty was away at tennis camp, nothing, not even Networld, had been more important to Katherine Kane than fighting crime. Kathy had sworn revenge for her brother's death.

Betty and her aunt had spent innumerable hours training, long before Batwoman and Flamebird burst upon the scene . . . and now Aunt Kathy was passing up an opportunity to fulfill her sacred vow to play a video game!

It was a shocked young high school student who silently made her way to the exit of Katherine Kane's private office. By the time she reached the door, however, the girl had decided upon a course of action. There was one person who might be able to help her . . . and Betty knew how to try to get in touch with her.

Barbara Gordon loved being a librarian. Not only that, but she was darn good at it, too. She could do twice the work in half the time of anyone else on the staff. This allowed her time for her "other" activities.

If anyone in the library had a question that no one else could answer, that person would be sent to Barbara. She almost always had the answer . . . or knew how to find it in short order. This capability led one of the young male interns to nickname her "Oracle."

Barbara truly enjoyed helping people. It was this dedication to serving others that she shared with her father that had led Barbara into becoming Batgirl. As she had once told Batman, she took crime fighting very seriously, but she also didn't see why she shouldn't have a few kicks along the way.

It seemed strange to think, considering all the cruel tortures and traps she had been subjected to as Batgirl, but Barbara admitted to herself that it was fun to be Batgirl! That was one of the reasons she had quickly decided to abandon her Dark Angel persona.

Another reason was that Barbara had scared herself a little by how she had apprehended Vixen. High-kicking criminals into submission was one thing, but Barbara felt a bit ashamed that Batgirl had used a taser gun on the criminal call girl. She feared she had come close to crossing the line that separated her from those she pursued.

Finally, she had discovered that wearing a wig all day at the library and whenever she was with her Dad or anybody else was no fun. It was a lot easier to wear her red wig under her cowl rather than have it on for such extended periods of time.

Batgirl might once again change costumes someday, but for now she was back to her original look.

All these thoughts were running through Barbara's mind as she decided to take an opportunity to check Batgirl's e-mail before she left work for the day. She was looking forward to the chance to put Catwoman back behind bars where the Feline Felon belonged, but instead she found the following message in her e-mail box:

BATGIRL -

Barbara remembered meeting Betty. Betty had seemed like a level-headed young woman. Barbara also knew the reputation of Gotham City's number one female tennis player. It was certainly conceivable that an arch-criminal might target Katherine Kane, who, except for Bruce Wayne, was probably Gotham City's richest citizen.

Barbara put Myrtle in charge of closing the library for the day. She then hurried back to her apartment, to undergo her amazing transformation into Batgirl and to collect her Batgirlcycle.

It was a little less than an hour later when . . .

"Batgirl! Thank goodness you've come!" Betty cried gratefully. Jeffrey stood up from behind his desk, dumbstruck by the vision of athletic, purple-clad loveliness that had materialized before his eyes.

"Please tell me all you know about your Aunt's condition," Batgirl said earnestly.

Betty filled the Caped Crimefightress in on all she knew. Jeffrey finally recovered enough to tell Batgirl about the mysterious Ms. Hefner and her young male companion.

"and Ms. Kane is still in her office, playing this game?" Batgirl asked.

Betty and Jeffrey both nodded their assent. Without another word, Batgirl made her way to the double doors that marked the entrance to the inner sanctum of the majority stockholder of Networld. She opened one carefully and slipped inside, closely followed by Betty and Jeffrey.

As hard as it was for Betty to believe, her aunt looked even worse than she had just a couple of hours previously. Katherine Kane took no notice of the entry of the trio, led by the colorfully costumed crime fighter. The tycoon was lost in Playgirl's electronically created world, with absolutely no desire to escape.

Batgirl closely examined the equipment as well as the condition of the hapless game player. She then motioned for Betty and Jeffrey to follow her out of the office, back into the reception area.

"May I use this computer?" Batgirl asked, indicating the monitor and keyboard on Jeffrey's desk.

"Certainly," said both Jeffrey and Betty together.

"Do I need a password to access the Internet?" questioned Batgirl as she slid into the office chair behind the desk.

"No, it's been saved," Jeffrey explained.

Batgirl's fingers deftly moved the mouse around a Networld mouse pad. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. Betty and Jeffrey watched as Batgirl worked, not saying a word. Now and then the Dominoed Dare Doll would make notes on a piece of paper.

Batgirl was taken aback when her investigation disclosed that, within the last thirty hours, Katherine Kane had charged over a billion and a half dollars to her credit card! 'That's what I call a Platinum Plus card!' Batgirl thought.

Some fifteen minutes later, Batgirl stood up and, handing Betty a piece of paper, announced "This is the telephone number of Dr. Floyd, one of the world's leading psychiatrists. He works right here in Gotham City. Dr. Floyd has worked closely with the police before. I e-mailed him explaining the situation, but do call him and insist that he come immediately."

A faint smile appeared on Batgirl's face. "You might mention who the patient is, so he'll know there's no question about ability to pay."

Then, completely solemn again, she went on, "Also alert him that he might need to call upon Chief O'Hara and the Anti-Lunatic Squad."

The idea that her Aunt might have to be put in a straight jacket by the Gotham City police repelled Betty Kane, but she understood the gravity of the situation. "What are you going to do, Batgirl?" Betty inquired.

"I've been able to track down the source of the game," Batgirl declared. "It's time that this game was shut down . . . permanently!

"But first, I have one brief stop to make . . ."

Soon thereafter Batgirl was outside the loft apartment at the old warehouse. She strongly suspected Playgirl was the figure she could see through the window, although she couldn't be sure as the glass was translucent.

‘No time like the present!' Batgirl thought. Hanging on to her Bat-rope, she swung away from the wall and then, re-enforced boots first, crashed through the window.

"Well, excuuuse me!" drawled Playgirl. Batgirl was astonished to find that she had broken into Playgirl's bedroom . . . and that the Gangster Gal was dressed only in a bra, panties and high-heeled black platform shoes!

Batgirl was taken aback by this unexpected turn of events, but did manage to say, "All right, Playgirl, your scheme to rob Katherine Kane of all her money is finished!"

"Ha!" Playgirl cried. "That, like, shows what you know, Batgirl. That's totally bogus. My plans were much bigger than that."

"Well, whatever they were," Batgirl replied, "you're going back to jail, to face a new batch of charges."

"Duh!" Playgirl said peckishly. "But before you slap your Batgirl-cuffs on me, can I at least, like, get dressed? I mean, are you going to turn me over to some policeman in my underwear?"

"Uh . . . well, all right," Batgirl agreed. In all the arrests she had made, Batgirl had never quite run into this situation before.

Playgirl tottered over to a nightstand, her body swaying provocatively inside the brassiere and thong underpants. Her bra had one off-white cup, with the other being clear. She reached into a drawer with her right hand and pulled out what looked like a yellow and pink hair dryer. Putting her left hand on her hip, she pointed the device at Batgirl!

"What-" Batgirl began. Playgirl pulled the "trigger." Bubbles began to float towards Batgirl!

"A bubble gun?" Batgirl questioned.

Before Batgirl could react, one of the bubbles popped near her face, then another and yet a third. In seconds, Batgirl was falling to the floor, unconscious! The noxious contents of the bubbles had knocked her out!

"Dean! Get your sweet self in here!" Playgirl called.

The Gangster Gal of Games' young henchman rushed into what heretofore had been forbidden territory to him: his mistress' boudoir. He drank in the sight of his boss wearing so little, but she immediately directed his attention to the fallen shero on the floor.

"I don't know how Batgirl found us so soon, but this works out, like, so-ooo totally better than I had planned! Drag her into the main room. After I get into something, you know, appropriate for the occasion, we'll introduce Batgirl to Crypt Robber!

A short time later, Playgirl was once again in the costume she had worn when she first confronted Batgirl in character: red hot-pants and a red showgirl-style tuxedo outfit with top hat, tails, black tie and oversized sunglasses. This time she had foregone the roller skates.

The still unconscious Batgirl was tied to a straight-back chair, secured to the floor. Her ankles, wrists and head were bound to the chair. Playgirl was positioning headphones over where she guessed Batgirl's ears were under her cowl, while Dean was undertaking the delicate task of binding Batgirl's eyelids so that she couldn't close her eyes.

"Say! Did you know Batgirl wore contacts?" he asked.

"No," Playgirl replied absently.

"Should I pop them out?" Dean questioned his evil mentor.

"No!" the Blonde Bombshell responded with sudden interest. "The corrective lenses will better focus the game on her retina, making it that much more effective!"

Owens finished clamping Batgirl's unseeing eyes open. "How long does the addictive effect of your game last?"

"It depends on the duration of exposure," Playgirl explained. "If the player is in the game only an hour or two, she'd snap out of it in a couple hours . . . but, say she stayed on the machine, like, all night or took repeated doses over a period of days, I mean, she could be kept in a state of need virtually indefinitely!

"You know, that's the condition Katherine Kane is in by now, but as for Batgirl-" Just then the Dark Knight Damsel moaned. "Here." Playgirl handed her young henchman a small bottle of contact lens rewetting drops. "Since she can't blink, I don't want her eyes to dry out before we start."

"What is the meaning of this?!" Batgirl growled. Dean put a couple of drops in each of her eyes. "Stop!" Batgirl shouted. "My eyes-"

"Relax, Batgirl," Playgirl cooed in a soothing voice. "Those drops are for your own good. We don't want to, like, ruin your eyes . . . before we destroy your mind!"

"What are you up to, Playgirl?" Batgirl demanded to know.

"As I told you, Batgirl," Playgirl responded, looking at her helpless foe over the tops of the sunglasses pushed far down her nose, "I'm after much more than the Katherine Kane fortune. With my video game, I'm going to turn all of Gotham City . . . and eventually . . . the world into my loyal playmates."

"You're mad," Batgirl declared with disgust.

"No, I'm not, Batgirl," Playgirl replied with a smirk, "but, soon, like, very soon, you will be!"

Batgirl struggled wildly in her chair, but she was bound too well. The Dominoed Dare Doll glared at her contemporary.

"In, like, a few moments, you'll get to play Crypt Robber," Playgirl exposited. "And unlike Kathy Kane, it won't cost you a thing . . . except your sanity.

"You see, even she had to take a break every so often to re-order more playing time, but you will get to play non-stop for hours without end. Eventually, your pleasure center will be so over-stimulated that it will short circuit your brain. Of course, by then, you'll be pretty much a vegetable, but you'll be, like, a happy vegetable!"

A look of horror danced across Dean Owens face. Playgirl did not see it, as she ordered, "Give her a couple of more drops in each eye." Turning back to Batgirl, Playgirl continued, "Once the game begins, we'll release your eyelids. You'll blink normally as you're compelled to enjoy the show."

Dean did as he was instructed. "Any last words, Batgirl?" Playgirl concluded.

"I'll beat your game, Playgirl, just like I did before!" Batgirl declared defiantly. "You'll see!"

"HA! Not a chance." Playgirl flipped a switch. As soon as the twin laser beams struck Batgirl's eyes, the captive heroine's beautiful face went totally blank. "‘You see,'" Playgirl said to herself and Dean, as Batgirl seemed beyond listening, "this game is over as soon as it starts . . . and you've lost!

"Unclamp her eyelids. She won't give us any trouble now." Playgirl sashayed over to the couch. "Then come over here and we can start planning how to spend a billion dollars!"

Batgirl started straight into the eyepieces, not a hint of expression on her face. She appeared to be completely lost inside a world of Playgirl's making . . .

For a whole day Playgirl and her crony went about their business, paying little more attention to Batgirl than they would a piece of furniture. They were a bit chagrined to discover that Katherine Kane was off the game, ("Batgirl's doing, no doubt," Playgirl reasoned) but were consoled with the knowledge that they were a billion and a half dollars richer!

Every once in a while one of the pair would stop and stare at their prisoner as she played. Playgirl would watch with satisfaction and enjoyment, while Dean had the expression of fascinated repulsion that a normal person would have at an execution. Batgirl looked oblivious to anything happening around her.

Early the next evening, some twenty-four hours later, Playgirl decided it was time to check on the condition of their subject. She instructed Dean to remove the earphones and the eyepiece headset. Even after he had done so, Batgirl continued to stare straight ahead, not a glimmer of emotion or flicker of intelligence on her features.

"All right, Batgirl," Playgirl began, "Who is the President of the United States?"

Batgirl made not a sound, nor gave any indication that she had even heard a word.

"Too hard for you, my dear?" Playgirl teased with glee. "How about this one? What is the sum of two plus two?"

Batgirl remained silent.

"My, you are a dim-bulb, aren't you, sweetie?" Playgirl laughed, a cold, evil laugh without humor. "OK, Batgirl, can you dredge out of that vast intellect of yours your own name?"

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Batgirl's mouth began to move . . .

"Bbbbbbbbbb . . . Baaaaaaaa," was all she managed to get out, before the effort seemed to prove too much for her and she once again fell silent.

"She still has some brainpower left!" Dean cried in amazement tinged with relief.

"Yes . . . She must have had a very strong mind to begin with . . ." Playgirl said thoughtfully.

Then the Gangster Gal of Games became quite excited. "But . . . this is perfect! Like, what fun would it have been to be stuck with a husk of unresponsive flesh? Maybe she can follow simple commands! Perhaps she truly will be our slave!!"

Playgirl reached a decision. "Untie her!"

The boy did as he was told, first releasing the restraints around Batgirl's head, then untying, in order, her hands and feet. Except for occasionally blinking and the rhythmic movement of the gold Bat-symbol on her exquisite chest as she breathed, Batgirl remained motionless in the chair.

"Batgirl, stand up," Playgirl commanded.

Batgirl didn't move.

"Batgirl, stand up!" Playgirl ordered again, a little more insistently.

Again, Batgirl gave no response.

"Hmmm," Playgirl pondered. "This may be more difficult than we thought. We may have to, like, train her."

Playgirl put both her hands on Batgirl's left arm, pulled and said, "STAND UP!"

POW!

Batgirl landed a hard right smack on Playgirl's jaw! The Gangster Gal went staggering back across the room, her top hat flying off in the process.

"What? How?" she muttered groggily, a thin trickle of blood running from her lips.

WHACK!

This time Batgirl gave her adversary one of her trademark chorus line kicks, once again to the blonde's jaw. Playgirl did a backflip before landing heavily on her rump.

The Bat-Beauty followed up her advantage, straddling her opponent. She looked down with triumph at the beaten villainess who, seconds before, was so sure of victory. Batgirl took a pair of handcuffs from her utility belt which, once again in Playgirl's over-confidence, the Gangster Gal had failed to remove from Batgirl's hips. As Batgirl slapped the cuffs on Playgirl, she explained how she had thwarted the evil game.

"I am a little farsighted, but I only wear glasses when I'm doing a lot of reading. I suspected you might try to subject me to the same treatment you gave Katherine Kane. These special contacts reflect the concentrated beams of laser light. The only thing I had to contend with was boredom while I pretended to play your silly game. I figured sooner or later you'd just let me go."

Playgirl hung her head and moaned in pain and defeat. With or without Dean's cooperation, she figured that either Batgirl or the police would deduce how she had recruited someone to help her escape. She doubted she would be able to employ the same means this time.

Batgirl turned to face the boy. "Are you going to give me any trouble?"

The slightly-built teen had barely moved while watching his mentor be defeated. Now he held out his arms limply before him, indicating surrender.

Batgirl slapped a second pair of Bat-cuffs on Owens. Then she marched him over to where Playgirl was sitting on the floor. "Sit back to back," she ordered. Batgirl then tightly tied the partners in crime together.

Next the Caped Cutie walked over to the telephone and punched in her father's private work number. As usual, he was working late and was there to receive her call.

"Commissioner Gordon," he answered.

"Commissioner, this is Batgirl."

"Batgirl! I've heard about Katherine Kane! She's undergoing treatment as we speak. Have you found out who was behind her condition?"

"Yes, Commissioner. It was Playgirl . . . and I've captured her and her accomplice." Batgirl gave the Commissioner the address of the old warehouse, so a squad car could be sent to collect the prisoners. The two said their goodbyes and Batgirl hung up the phone.

Batgirl had a few moments for quiet contemplation while she waited for the police to arrive. She was sure the courts would restore Katherine Kane's fortune to the founder of Networld. Batgirl took satisfaction from the knowledge that she had once again defeated Playgirl all by herself, without any help from Batman, Robin or the police, but . . .

Already her thoughts were turning to the challenge she was sure to come. Some sixth sense, woman's intuition perhaps? told her that soon, very soon, Batgirl would have her long-awaited showdown with . . .

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