For you, some time may have passed, but for Batgirl, it has just been seconds since King Tut gave the fateful order, "LOAD A QUARTER OF A MILLION PEBBLES INTO THE CHUTE!"
Within moments, Batgirl heard a sound above her like cubes of ice being dumped out of an immense cooler. Instantly, the first of 250,000 pebbles began its inexorable journey from the hopper and down the chute towards the Purple Princess's vulnerable felt domino. . . . plink . . . After the briefest of respites, Batgirl's torment had resumed.
Batgirl counted silently to herself, "One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five -" plink "Yes," she determined, "the pebbles are still coming every five seconds." With great difficulty, the Dark Knight Damsel was able to continue to stare straight ahead, giving her torturers no indication that her intellect was yet intact.
"Assuming you are faking mindlessness, Batgirl," King Tut began, "by now perhaps the thought of what is happening to you has slowly sunk in.
"The pebbles will continue to fall . . . drop by drop . . . without any let-up . . . hour . . . after hour . . . after hour . . . on one tiny, single spot of your brain . . . slowly driving you hopelessly insane! . . . Drop . . . drop . . . drop . . . Ha, ha, ha!
"If it does ultimately turn out that you're not Ankhesenamun, well . . . I've often said that the Theban Pebble Torture is a fate worse than death. Better . . . much better . . . to die than to live as you will live - without memory of the past or enjoyment of the present!
"Think of it, Batgirl! - 14 days, 11 hours, 13 minutes and 20 seconds of continuous torture! You'll be driven completely out of your mind!! Batgirl will be utterly destroyed!!! You'll become a totally mindless vegetable!!!!"
Tut had become breathless as a result of his ranting. All was quiet, except for the plink of the pebbles striking Batgirl and then the clack! as they added to the pile in the sarcophagus or on the floor.
The fat Pharaoh went on, "I'll check in on you from time to time, to see how you're getting along. I'm sure that watching your incremental destruction will be more entertaining than anything on television!"
King Tut turned his head upwards toward the floor above as he shouted, "Chief Torturer! I'm leaving you in charge. See to it that nothing interrupts Batgirl's . . . fun!"
"Yes, your Highness," answered a voice that seemed too high for a man's but too low for a woman's. Then the criminal mastermind and the two Royal Embalmers left the room.
Batgirl was now alone in the torture chamber. The Chief Torturer remained unseen on the next floor up.
The helpless heroine took stock of her situation. Except for her face and the ability to breathe, she was completely unable to move. Her grip on reality was starting to loosen after less than an hour and a half before . . . How long could she retain her sanity? Batman's technique had worked, but how long would it be able to protect her?
"Speaking of Batman - Bruce Wayne!" Batgirl thought, "I'm sure he and Robin will be looking for Daddy and me, but will they be able to find us? . . . and what about Daddy? What might King Tut be doing to him?!?"
Batgirl knew she mustn't panic. "No sense worrying about what I can't effect! Well, back to the multiplication tables . . . 9 x 9 = 81 . . . 9 x 8 = 72 . . . 9 x 7 = 63" Plink . . . . plink . . . . plink . . . .
Meanwhile, back at the Batcave, Batman was hanging up the Bat-phone. "What did Chief O'Hara have to say?" a visibly distraught Robin asked.
"Nothing good," Batman replied. "In this case no news is certainly not good news. The police haven't heard anything from Commissioner Gordon, Batgirl or even King Tut."
Robin was obviously frustrated. The Dynamic Duo's investigation of the crime scene had yielded no clues which might lead them to King Tut's hideout. Even the Batcomputer had been unable to give them any help. "Gosh, Batman, maybe we should have gone to the museum and run the risk of Tut being able to prove who we are. We thwarted his attempt to expose us before!" Robin was unhappy that Batman had decided that they would not go to the museum before Dick Grayson had gotten home from school yesterday. The Boy Wonder would have liked to have been consulted on the decision.
"Perhaps, Robin, perhaps," answered Batman, "but there is no way to move or hide the Batcave . . . and remember, if our identities were revealed to all of Batman's and Robin's enemies, not only would our effectiveness as crime fighters be at an end, but Aunt Harriet's and Alfred's lives would be in constant peril. Besides, that's water under the bridge, now."
"Of course . . . you're right . . . Batman," Robin replied sullenly. "So, what do we do?"
"Robin . . . I've reached a decision. It's time we took care of King Tut once and for all!"
Before the Boy Wonder could inquire further of his mentor what he meant by this startling statement, the Caped Crusader had picked up a house phone. Batman dialed a number from memory. "Bruce Wayne, here. Lucius Fox, please." Those rare times when the voice of Bruce Wayne came out of Batman were always unnerving to Robin.
Lucius Fox was the new Chief Executive Officer of Wayne Industries. The bespectacled African-American was one of the top business minds in the country. With Fox handling the Wayne fortune, Bruce was free to concentrate on his nocturnal activities.
"Lucius, Bruce here . . . Lucius, Batman will be calling you in a few minutes. I want you to give him every cooperation. The lives of Commissioner Gordon and Batgirl are at stake and I want Wayne Industries to do whatever it takes to help.
"I can give you a bit of a head start. Contact any friends we have at MGM and tell them that we'll be needing certain props from the Stargate SG-1 TV series shipped out immediately. Also, book Jefferson Oval Gardens tonight, no matter what the cost . . .
"No, the Thomas Wayne Memorial Arena will not do. I've clashed with King Tut before and we have to avoid the appearance of any involvement by me . . .
"Yes, King Tut. Don't worry, Batman will explain it to you . . ."
0 x 3 = 0 . . . 0 x 2 = 0 . . . 0 x 1 = 0 . . . 0 x 0 = 0 . . . God, she was getting so sick of the damned multiplication table!
She was also getting very tired. Several hours must have passed since the flow of pebbles resumed. How long had it been since she slept? Batman had warned her not to try to fall asleep if subjected to this kind of torture, as a lack of mental concentration would allow the procedure to begin its insidious work of destroying her mind.
In addition, Batgirl was hot and thirsty. She could tell the tight linen wrap had caused her costume to become soaked with sweat.
Batgirl watched as another pebble dropped out of the tube. Quickly it disappeared from her field of vision as she felt the impact on her forehead and heard for the umpteenth time the subsequent plink and clack! It didn't exactly hurt . . . but it was so annoying! She tried to savor the four seconds between pebbles, but maddening was the knowledge that, in seconds, another would be on its way . . . then another . . . and another!
It was getting to her. Batgirl felt like she was about to scream, when . . . the androgynous figure of the Chief Torturer padded into the torture chamber. With short hair, eye liner along with other make-up and wearing a puffy tunic, it was impossible to tell whether this person was male or female.
The Chief Torturer was carrying a goatskin water jug. The spout was held to Batgirl's lips, "Here you go, Batgirl. We don't want you to die of dehydration."
Although she tried to maintain her blank expression, Batgirl slurped down the offered water. The liquid spilled down her chin and ran across her neck into the mummy wrap. "Don't worry about the mess, Batgirl," the Chief Torturer explained, "that wrap is very absorbent."
Plink . . . . plink . . . . plink. . . . As the Chief Torturer turned to leave, Batgirl's resolve finally cracked. "Oh . . . I can't stand it any longer . . . please . . . do something!"
There was a strange look in the Chief Torturer's eyes as he/she said, "Ah! . . . So you are still in there! . . . I guessed as much. Here . . . let me get you something to eat." The Torturer went off and returned with some kind of bread. As she/he held it up to Batgirl's lips, the Chief Torturer said, quite conversationally, "You know, Batgirl, I was very glad when King Tut ordered Commissioner Gordon released. I find it repugnant to see someone old . . . or weak . . . in pain."
Even as she was biting into the food held by the Torturer, Batgirl's eyebrows shot up in amazement at this statement . . . just in time to receive the blow from the next pebble.
"You want me to do something? Do you know why I took this job, Batgirl?" the Torturer asked rhetorically. "It was just so I would have the opportunity to torture you . . . or Robin. You're both so arrogant, so smug, so self-righteous . . . and you are so beautiful . . . and the Boy Wonder is so handsome. Having you at my mercy is a dream come true!"
Batgirl shuddered. She could deal with the flamboyant eccentricity of King Tut. The quiet insanity of the figure before her was much more unsettling . . . and dangerous!
"Can you guess how I surmised that you were only pretending to be mindless, Batgirl? It was because you hadn't gone through any of the documented stages of subjection to the Theban Pebble Torture." A cruel smile appeared on the Torturer's red with lipstick mouth. "Let me explain what you have to look forward to . . .
"First, you will get very angry. You'll scream, threaten, demand . . . perhaps even curse.
"Next, in a futile effort to keep your wits about you, you'll engage in infantile behavior. You might tick like a clock, blow spit bubbles or sing silly songs - most humiliating!
"Shortly following that . . . panic will set in. You'll try, desperately, to escape. You'll attempt to thrash about inside your mummy . . . but the Royal Embalmers are very good at their work. You will barely move . . . however, perhaps you should be grateful! Some victims who have been encased in jars have broken many of their bones as they tried to smash their way out.
"Then you'll begin to cry, to sob, to weep, uncontrollably, as you lament the loss of your intellect. Despair will overwhelm you as the last vestiges of your intelligence dribbles away."
"Finally, you'll end up as a mindless zombie - unless, of course, you are really are Ankhesenamun," the Chief Torturer said, wryly. "You'll be capable of following only the simplest instructions, unable to speak, incapable of independent thought. You'll only be able to perform minimal biological functions.
"Well, enjoy yourself!" the Torturer said sprightly. Batgirl glared at the Chief Torturer's back as the sadist walked out of view.
Plink . . . . plink . . . . plink . . . .
It was about ten o'clock that night when one of the Tutlings burst into King Tut's throne room. "O Great Pharaoh, I believe you should come outside and look into the sky! There is something quite amazing!"
The Crime King turned his attention from the chicken leg he was consuming. "What is it?!?" he snarled.
"I can't describe it, O Mighty King! Please, come see for yourself!"
"Oh, dash it!" King Tut muttered to himself. "Too bad I didn't retain a Royal Astronomer!"
The tubby King of the Nile waddled out of his hideout into the cool, cloudy night, followed by two of his guards. In the sky, shining on the clouds, he saw, "For the love of Isis, it's my cartouche! It kind of looks like the Bat-Signal. Is Batman calling me?"
Then a Tutling pointed to another area of the sky and yelled, "Sire, look there!"
In bright red was another symbol in the sky, quite different looking than the other. King Tut exclaimed, "The symbol of Ra!" Tut thought for a moment. "Tutlings, tell the Royal Embalmers and the Chief Torturer to stay here. Then, gather everyone else and get the Royal Bark. We are going to investigate the source of these nocturnal apparitions!"
Plink . . . . plink . . . . plink . . . .
"9 x 9 = 9." Batgirl said out-loud. "9 x 8 = 8. What have I ate? I don't know.
Batman is Bruce . . . Babbitt? I'm Barbar . . . ella?? Who's Commissioner Gordon? I don't know, whose is he?
"9 x 7 = 7 . . . 9 x 6 = 6 . . ."
Plink . . . . plink . . . . plink . . . .
King Tut and his men followed the beam from the searchlight projecting the cartouche of Tutankhamon to Jefferson Oval Gardens. There was no sign of the source of the symbol of Ra. Tut and his men tumbled out of the Royal Bark and walked up to the main entrance of the convention and sports center. The area seemed completely deserted.
One of the Tutlings smashed open the glass door. Once inside, while standing on the main concourse, the group heard a very deep voice, which seemed to be coming from within the seating area, "T U T A N K H A M O N !"
King Tut lead the party through an entranceway, onto an aisle in the seating area. What they saw inside astonished them.
The entire arena was filled with a white mist, obscuring their view of most of the seats. At one end of where the ice rink for hockey or the basketball court would have been, stood what appeared to be a temple. Steps led up to a stage, on which sat a figure on an ornate throne. Pillars, that went up and disappeared into the fog, flanked the figure on each side. Ancient Egyptian relics were scattered throughout the temple. A shimmering curtain of light formed the backdrop for the setting.
"It's some sort of theatrical trick, Your Majesty, that's all. Let's get out of here!" advised the Grand Vizier . . . but at that moment, beams of light came streaming through the fog from the windows that lined the top of the building and through all the entrances. Not illumination from a lighting system, but light as if night had been turned to day . . . outside!
Simultaneously, the entire building began to shake, not from noise from speakers, but as if an earthquake was trying to demolish the entire facility! After at least fifteen seconds of this almost imperceptively quiet rumbling, the voice boomed out again, "TUTANKHAMON, COME FORWARD!"
That was enough for the rest of the entourage. Despite the setting, the henchmen were convinced they were experiencing something supernatural. All thought of loyalty to their pharaoh left them as they bolted back up the aisle, through the concourse and into the street.
King Tut tentatively advanced forward. In a small voice, he asked "Ra . . . is that you?"
"YES, OF COURSE!" boomed the figure on the throne. It stood up. It was the very image of the ancient god!
"What do you . . . want of me?" the now-cowardly criminal asked.
"WHY HAVE YOU, A GOD ON EARTH, BEEN ACTING LIKE A TOMB ROBBER, A COMMON THIEF?" Ra wanted to know.
"Well, uh, because . . . the people of this city would not accept me as their ruler," complained King Tut.
"THAT'S NO WAY TO GAIN THEIR RESPECT - STEALING FROM THEM!"scolded Ra. "BEGINNING IMMEDIATELY, START HELPING THE FORCES OF LAW AND JUSTICE! THAT IS THE ONLY WAY YOU WILL EVER GAIN THE LOYALTY OF THE CITIZENRY! RA HAS SPOKEN!!!"
As the echoes of Ra's final words died out, the building began to shake more violently than ever. This time, it was accompanied by a low, trumpet sound, which slowly became louder and louder. Tut fell to his knees under the onslaught. Then, just when it seemed that it couldn't get any louder, there was a final BOOM!!!!!
Tut looked up. Amazingly, the entire stage had disappeared! The light outside was gone. The arena was now completely quiet. Only the last whisps of mist gave any clue that anything had happened at all.
Meanwhile, outside, Chief O'Hara and the police had rounded up King Tut's men as they came onto the street. All but one were now safely incarcerated in a Gotham City Police Department paddy wagon.
The Grand Vizier had been grabbed by Robin as he led the charge out of Jefferson Oval Gardens. Now, the Boy Wonder had King Tut's second-in-command in an alley, next to the Batmobile.
"You will drive me to your hideout where Commissioner Gordon and Batgirl are being held or I will severely pummel you about your head and shoulders!" Robin threatened.
"O.K., O.K., sure." The Grand Vizier's bravado had been shattered by his experience inside the arena. He got in behind the wheel of the Batmobile. Robin deactivated the anti-theft systems and off they went into the night.
The Batmobile pulled up outside the building which served as King Tut's palace. The Grand Vizier stopped the vehicle and said, "This is the place. Gordon and the girl are both inside."
"Thanks." Robin rewarded the Vizier with a right cross to the jaw, knocking the criminal out cold. The concerned young crime fighter raced into the criminal stronghold.
Inside, he found the throne room. He had just noticed some stairs leading down, when the Royal Embalmers appeared. The Teen Titan made short work of the two, rendering them both unconscious in seconds. Robin hurried down the stairs.
Plink . . . . plink . . . . plink . . . . "Batgirl!" Robin was horrified to find Batgirl wrapped up like a mummy, undergoing the Theban Pebble Torture. Batgirl's face was a complete blank. Drool ran out of her mouth. Had she been driven completely mad?
"Batgirl! I'll get you out!" Robin took off his cape and stuffed it into the tube to stop the parade of pebbles. He then took a small knife from his utility belt and began to cut Batgirl from her bonds.
The slightest flicker of recognition crossed Batgirl's face. After cutting the wrapping, Robin, using all of his teen-aged strength, pried open Batgirl's linen prison. He then gingerly lifted his sopping wet friend out of the sarcophagus and propped her up gently against the stone altar.
Just then a mocking voice called out, "Don't forget about the Commissioner, Robin!" Robin turned to see the Chief Torturer disappear through a side door. The Boy Wonder chased after the bizarre figure.
Going through the doorway, Robin entered a long narrow corridor, lined with cells. At the far end was a wooden door, with a barred window cut in it at eye level. In front of the door stood the figure of the Chief Torturer.
The Torturer slid a set of keys along the floor towards the Boy Wonder. "Here are the keys, so that you can free the Commissioner, Robin. I look forward to having a date with you . . . soon!" With that, the Torturer went through the wooden door, sliding a dead bolt behind.
Robin ran down the corridor, but could only watch as the figure of the Chief Torturer disappeared into the sewer system. The red-breasted crime fighter scooped up the keys, quickly found the cell containing Commissioner Gordon, opened it and helped the Commissioner to his feet.
Supporting Gordon's arm across his shoulders, Robin led the civil servant to the torture chamber. Once there, he was surprised to find that Batgirl was gone!
Batgirl was barely able of conscious thought, but her instincts told her, "Home!" Slowly, keeping to the shadows, she made her way across town on foot to the alley which concealed the entrance to her secret room. She didn't know how, but she was able to remember the pressure combination on the fake bricks that opened the entrance. She went inside, closing the entrance behind her.
Once inside her apartment, the first thing she did was feed and water her bird, Charlie. On some basic level, she knew she had to take care of her pet. Then she went into her bathroom and peeled off her soaked costume.
Without any realization of what she was doing, Barbara was soon laying on her back in the bathtub, with her head under the faucet. She reached up and barely turned the spigot. Water slowly began to drop out . . . . drip . . . . drip . . . . drip . . . .
The drops landed on Barbara's forehead. She shifted slightly so they would hit exactly where the pebbles had landed on her mask. Somehow . . . this felt comforting to her . . . familiar . . . All she had to do was lie here and all her troubles would be over . . . forever . . .
Drip . . . . drip . . . . drip . . . .
"No!" Barbara screamed. She shot out of the bathtub. No, she wouldn't give up! All she needed was rest. Rest, sleep, food and drink . . . then she would be as good as new.
King Tut returned to the doctors, determined to convince them that he had turned over a new leaf. From now on, he would be a force for good in society. He decided to keep Batman's and Robin's identities to himself. Yes, that would please Ra!
Commissioner Gordon returned to the job within a week. He congratulated Batman on the Caped Crusader's successful portrayal of Ra. Batman explained that magnesium flares had been used to simulate daylight, The Minstrel's sonic system had been utilized to shake the building and a laser had been used to project the symbol of Ra on the clouds.
Gordon informed Batman that none of Tut's men admitted to knowing who the Chief Torturer was. They weren't even sure if he was male or female . . .
Before long Barbara Gordon's superb body and magnificent mind were as good as new . . . except . . . She couldn't remember a single thing that happened to Batgirl while she was enduring the ancient Theban Pebble Torture!