Garbed in her silver toga/mini-skirt, the Siren sat studying a crossword puzzle magazine. “A six-letter word for a female advisor,” she read aloud.
“‘Egeria,’” replied the Riddler as he scoured over some paperwork. “You and I are going to be rich beyond our wildest dreams.”
“You’re certain your experience with the Penguin’s personalized relic will enable you to handle a top-of-the-line model? Singlehandedly?” She glanced back at the magazine. “Nine-letter word for a painkiller.”
“’Analgesic.’ Singlehandedly - no doubt whatsoever. I can pilot any type of submersible sea-craft.”
“Six-letter word meaning ‘to ascribe.’ And the missiles?"
“‘Impute.’ Missiles? You should have seen me. I was shooting off Polaris missiles like they were three-cent bottle rockets!” he said, jabbing his fingers at the ceiling in imitation of missiles launching.
Dropping the crossword puzzle, the Siren clasped her hands. “It’s so fortuitous that we’ve re-teamed! Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of owning my own fleet of submarines. Now, they’re almost within my grasp! And to think - nuclear submarines! That’s the best kind, isn’t it?”
“Why, I wouldn’t dream of owning any other kind!”
One of the River Rats stood up drunkenly and swaggered over to the Siren. “You look real nice when you get all excited, baby,” said Whitey, “and I got a special welcome that’ll get ya even more excited.”
“My, my. Aren’t you the brazen one,” said the Siren, appraising the henchman.
“Dat’s right. I am when I sees a woman I likes.”
“Come back here, you bold male, you,” she said, standing and beckoning. “I have a secret I want to tell you.”
She led the leering thug from the room. Seconds later, the Riddler heard the Siren’s piercing scream reverberate through walls which were thankfully thick enough to spare him from any ill affects. The Siren and Whitey emerged shortly, the henchman shuffling as if he was in a trance.
“Now, why don’t you do us a favor and go jump in the lake?” she said.
“Which lake, oh magnificent Siren?”
“Let’s see, where’s the dirtiest water source in Gotham?”
“Prob’ly off the west shore of Phony Island.”
“That should do nicely. Just dogpaddle about for an hour or so.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Whitey. He marched robot-like from the room.
“I hope you’re done giving my minions swimming lessons, because we’ll be needing all of them,” said the Riddler. “Now, riddle me this: Where do you find roads without vehicles, forests without trees, and cities without houses?"
“On a map?” asked the Siren
“Correct!” he said, whipping out a map of a military installation. “Why don’t we look at this one? Observe...the first two guards you’ll encounter will be here at the front gate. Once you get past them, you shouldn’t see anyone for the next two hundred meters, allowing you to make your way here - and then here. Now, if my calculations are correct, there will be thirty-seven sailors in all that you’ll have to disable to give me clear access to the subs. Can your voice hit two octaves above high C thirty-seven times with the same potency?”
“Not by itself, no. My voice is no longer quite capable of such operatic feats. But with my vocal enhancer implant, it’ll be no trouble at all. Just make sure the sailors are all men.”
“Men are all you’ll find at the Gotham Naval Yards!” the Riddler whooped. “You’re the perfect person to infiltrate this base; no man can resist your spell, least of all ones who’ve just returned from six months at sea!”
“And you’re the perfect person to mastermind this plot, what with your extensive submarine experience. I’m afraid your assistants, on the other hand, do not inspire a great deal of confidence.”
The Riddler held up a hand reassuringly. “Not to worry. They won’t know where the submarines are being taken. The subs will just sit unmanned on the bottom of the ocean while we field offers from the highest bidders! The only two people in the world who’ll know their whereabouts will be you...and me!” He began to giggle. “And if anyone else wants them, they’ll have to pay, pay, pay!” The Riddler burst into a uncontrolled giggling fit, toppling over the desk lamp. He stopped abruptly and began writing furiously.
“What are you doing?” asked the Siren.
“Just taking care of a little business.” He read out loud as he wrote. “‘Riddle me this: What’s loud and sticky and found with Chubby R. Buckle?’”
“And So It Is Several Days Later That We Find Police Commisioner Gordon’s Morning Upset By Unsettling News”
“Yes?” said Gordon as he answered the insistently ringing phone. “What?! Gotham Naval Base? On red alert? The Coast Guard has scrambled all available vessels?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the switchboard operator. “All four of the submarines that were in port are missing and presumed stolen.”
“All four of the submarines that were in port are missing and presumed stolen?”
The operator turned to her co-worker and whispered, “He’s doing it again.”
At stately Wayne Manor, Dick Grayson stood in the living room strumming a folk guitar. Bruce and Aunt Harriet sat on the couch in front of him, politely tapping their feet. They were being graced with a performance of Dick’s unique interpretation of the Bob Dylan classic, Like A Rolling Stone.
“Once upon a time!
You dressed so fine!
Threw the bums a dime!
In your prime!
Didn't...yooou?”
He paused his shouting in mid-verse as Alfred strode between him and his audience. Leaning over to Bruce, the butler whispered, “The phone, sir.”
“I’m sorry, Dick,” said Bruce. “We’ll have to listen to this song you learned at college another time. I need your help in the study.”
Dick handed his folk guitar to Aunt Harriet, who appeared distrustful of the instrument. Dick trotted into the study just in time to hear Bruce say “Right away, Commisioner!”
As soon as the phone was back in its cradle, the inevitable order was given. “To the Batpoles!”
By HONK!
The Dynamic Duo were met at Police Headquarters by Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara.
“Is this some kind of dark new era our world is entering? Our worst nightmares being realized?” wondered Gordon. “Those hijacked vessels represent the entire submarine fleet for the eastern seaboard! Not only is one half of the country defenseless, but 473 nuclear missiles are now in the hands of unknown terrorists!”
“Unknown?” said Batman. “We did receive that mystifying riddle less than a week ago.”
“You mean this is work of the Riddler? ”
“The ‘Emir of Enigma,’” confirmed Batman. “...back to baffle and bewilder.”
“But you solved his clue.”
“I fear we must re-examine our findings on his latest conundrum.”
Robin gritted his teeth and nodded. “'What’s loud and sticky and found with Chubby R. Buckle?’”
“Your answer of bubble gum sounded correct,” said the Commissioner.
“Wait!” said Robin. “What’s loud and sticky could also mean audio tape!”
“Good thinking, Robin! And the reference to Chubby R. Buckle...hmmm.” Batman said, rubbing his chin. “Chubby R. Buckle was a silent film comedian...a bit on the heavy side...he played bumbling, incompetent characters... ”
“Wasn’t he in those Keystone Cop movies?” said Robin.
Chief O’Hara shut his eyes to think. “Mmm. Keystone Cops...bumbling...incompetent. It’s a tough one, all right,” he said, shaking his head.
Batman’s hand dropped from his chin as he looked at the police chief. “Just to entertain a wild notion, Chief, you don’t happen to keep an audio tape player here at headquarters, do you?”
“Oh yes, Batman!” the Commissioner answered. “It’s in that cabinet on the wall.” He walked over and opened the cabinet to reveal an old reel-to-reel tape player inside. “Why, there’s a tape in the machine now!”
He punched the “on” button. The sound of the Riddler’s manic laughter instantly blared from the tape player.
“Begorra!” said O’Hara. “But how on Earth did ye know it was here, Batman?”
“A lucky, lucky hunch, Chief.”
“Holy Disinterment!” said Robin. “Now I feel bad about suggesting we dig up Chubby R. Buckle!”
“No time to cry over spilt milk now, chum! Listen...” said Batman.
The Riddler’s laughter finally came to a stop and was replaced by his taunting voice. “Oh, you found the tape, eh, Batman? Well, riddle me this: Why will a traveler never starve in the desert?”
“Uhh...” offered Chief O’Hara.
“Because of the sand which is there! The sandwich!” exclaimed Robin.
“Are you still listening, Batman?” the Riddler’s voice continued. “Because I want to know why the Batboat isn’t mine!” The insane laughter resumed.
“Sure, and don’t ye know that he’d love to get his filthy hands on all your Bat vehicles,” said O’Hara.
“If only we’d thought to look here earlier!” exclaimed Batman, slapping his fist in his palm. “Think of the words in his statement, Commissioner! ‘Oh’, ‘eh’, ‘why’, ‘are’...”
“Words that sound like letters! So...the Batboat isn’t ‘his’ boat because it’s ‘you’ boat!”
“U Boat! Referrin’ t’submarines!” said O’Hara.
“And submarine is also a type of sandwich!” said Batman, tying in the earlier clue.
“How about one more, Batman?” the pre-recorded voice asked. “Which alarm do you think I’m going to pull this time?”
“Alarms,” said Robin. “Let’s see...there’s fire alarms, alarm clocks, burglar alarms...”
“But which alarm?” said Gordon.
“Didn’t he mean ‘witch alarm’, Commissioner? Or a word that means both ‘witch’ and ‘alarm’? In other words, a siren!”
Everyone turned in the direction of the new voice. Leaving a string of gawking patrolmen in her wake, Batgirl came striding up to the Commissioner’s desk. “Perhaps ‘how about one more’ means the Siren has re-surfaced to team up with him again.”
“Batgirl! What brings you here?” asked Batman.
“Oh, just something a little bird told me. You’ll hear it, too, if you turn on the radio right about now.”
Gordon switched on the radio. A self-assured, slightly smug voice greeted them.
“This is Barry Brown, your radio announcer, bringing you disturbing news of the day! The Hexagon is keeping mum over the decision to lock down Gotham Naval Base, which went to its highest state of alert on Wednesday night. Although the police and other ‘respected’ government officials assure us that nothing is wrong, this reporter can’t help wondering what could make an alert last three full days. A test of military readiness? If they’re taking this long, they must be flunking! What’s the matter, fellas? Have surviving agents of Saddam made it to Gotham City? Or did you forget where you parked the tanks? This reporter will get to the bottom of this and bring you the scoop!”
Gordon turned the radio off angrily. “Of all the nerve! The correct decision was made! What else could the Navy do? Announce that four submarines with nuclear missiles are lost and in the hands of a madman? Think of the panic that would ensue!”
“Yes, but if we can’t recover them quickly, the public will have to be told for their own safety,” Batgirl pointed out.
“A grim turn of events, indeed,” Batman said, pacing the room. “Traditionally, nation/states have targeted their missiles either by aiming for ‘mutually assured destruction’ or at enemies’ strategic installations. Now, however, the Riddler will deploy his 473 warheads in a prankish, nonsensical manner, with his only goals being to confound and offend.”
Batman suddenly began to experience a nightmarish vision - a vision of a nuclear blast enveloping Gotham City.
Above the tremendous explosion, he pictured a dark mushroom cloud rising up higher and higher in the sky. The cloud separated, slowly forming into to letters - to spell out the words, ‘When is a jet stream like a daffodil?’
The image faded away before his eyes, leaving him with a horrified expression.
At the Crossword Puzzle Factory, the River Rat gang sat whittling with knives at a large block of cheese. A phone call interrupted their rabid consumption of the nutritious dairy product.
Whitey was the nearest to the phone and grabbed the receiver. Before he could finish ‘hello,’ the Siren’s voice spoke urgently at the other end.
“Whitey?”
“Siren? Where are you?”
“I’m where the Riddler was supposed to be yesterday - at the rendezvous point.”
“Well, where’s that?”
“You don’t need to know, my curious rodent. Where’s the Riddler?”
“I thought he was with you by now.”
“Of course. Something of a fishy smell to this situation, wouldn’t you say?”
“Uhh, how do you mean?”
“I don’t appreciate being kept waiting, particularly not for this long and particularly not when I’m supposed to take possession of nuclear submarines.”
“But none of us here know…”
“Enough. We’ll discuss it no further . . . but if you don’t have some answers for me when I return, you’re going to take another swim…and this time you’ll be doing the breast stroke until you hit the North Pole.”
“Chee, I don’t think I can swim that far.”
“Really. Then I guess you’d better locate your employer. Otherwise, I’ll be happy to let you discover the exact limits of your endurance. And the Riddler just may be accompanying you on the journey.”
“Idon’tknowwhereheisbutI’llfindoutrightnowMissSirenGoodbye.”
Whitey hung up as fast as possible. The other River Rats watched as the panicked thug stood there, hyperventilating. Whitey gasped in horror as the phone suddenly began to ring again.
“I’m not answerin’ it!” he insisted. “She’s gonna scream in my ear and take control of my brain!”
“Well, someone’s gotta…oh, give it to me,” Fangs grumbled. “Hello? Who...boss! We’ve been lookin’ all over for you. The Siren’s been calling - she’s waiting for you over at the prearranged meetin’ spot.”
“I told her to switch to Plan B if I was delayed,” he heard the Riddler reply. “I’ve been standing here, dripping wet, waiting for her to pick me up! Next time you see her, ask her if there’s enough brains in that bubbly head to remember Plan B.”
“Ahhh...I think maybe you oughta ask her that yourself, boss. I think she left a phone number.”
“I suppose she is the wrong woman to rile up. Maybe I’d better hold off on explaining our current roadblock.”
“I told you you couldn’t hook four subs together with just trailer hitches.”
“That wasn’t the problem - it was the navigation!” complained the Riddler. “The sonar array failed completely - I had no idea where I was going! And I didn’t dare bring all four to the surface with the Coast Guard on my tail. Since I knew I was close enough to swim for shore, I had to ditch the submarines; otherwise, I would have risked running blindly into the coastline."
“Where’s the subs now?”
“You don’t need to trouble yourself remembering that. Just worry about your part of the job. Did you spread the word to your lowlife associates as per my instructions?”
“Yeah, practically every one of ‘em was real interested in nuclear submarines. I don’t think many of ‘em have owned one before.”
"Good, good. Now, if we act quickly, everything will be back on schedule by the time the Siren gets back. I want you to leave her a note saying that we’ll be over at...”
Fangs listened attentively, nodding. “Right, boss.”
The Riddler hung up, and immediately began dialing another number on his question mark-shaped phone.
Meanwhile, outside police headquarters, the Terrific Trio stood huddled around the Batmobile. “So you see, Batgirl,” Batman explained, “the riddle we were cogitating was actually a clue to the whereabouts of the real riddles needed to solve his crime.”
“That enigmatic egotist has done it again!” exclaimed Robin.
Their brainstorming was interrupted by the phone ringing inside the Batmobile. “Yes, Commissioner?” Batman said, picking up the receiver. Peels of the Riddler’s wild laughter crackled through the earpiece.
“Riddler! Where are those submarines, you serial querrier?”
“I ask the questions here, Batman. You answer them - or maybe you won’t!”
“You’ve really done it this time, Riddler” Batman said, scanning the horizon for signs of his foe. “Stealing four submarines at once is a stunt I didn’t think even you could pull off, given your usual hooligan staffing level.”
“Elementary for a mind like mine, Batman. I merely welded trailer hitches to the front and back of each vessel.”
“Of course! It’s so simple that it’s fiendishly clever!”
“Now riddle me this: Why did the dog run around in circles?”
“Why did the dog...”
“Solve them on your own time - I’m in a hurry. Also, what trembles at each breath of air, but can bear the heaviest burdens? And where do we love to sleep outdoors?”
Batman listened to some hyena-like cackling, followed by a click as the villain hung up on him. “No manners at all,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, at least he’s given us the clues to his next crime.”
“His next crime?” said Robin. “He has enough missiles to conduct World War III! Why is he wasting time with follow-up robberies?”
Batgirl provided the solution. “The Commissioner said that the wake from that caravan of submarines was spotted by a Coast Guard cutter. The cutter tried following, but lost the trail when the subs started changing direction and then submerged to deeper depths. What if the Riddler’s haphazard maneuvering near the ocean floor resulted in some kind of damage?”
“Damage that may have curtailed his ability to operate his ill-gotten goods!” Batman said enthusiastically. “He overlooked the First Rule of Safe Vehicle Operation - ‘Always...”
“We’d better solve those riddles before you forget them, Batman,” Batgirl interrupted.
“I hardly think that’s likely, Batgirl. The first riddle was ‘Why did the dog run in circles?'”
“Because one good turn deserves another!” said Batgirl.
Several teeny-bopper girls were passing by the Batmobile and now stopped to stare. “Look! It’s Robin!” cried one.
Ignoring the distraction, Batman continued. “What trembles at each breath of air, but can bear the heaviest of burdens!”
“Water!” said Robin.
The excited girl gasped in awe. “Do you see how smart he is!”
Robin began turning red. “Aw, gee...”
“Very kind of you to say, Miss,” Batman responded on behalf of his protoge. “Now, could you young ladies move along and refrain from touching the Batmobile? Thank you.”
“Were there any more riddles?” asked Batgirl.
Batman watched the departing girls warily. “There was one other that I won’t go into, but the answer was ‘sextant.’”
“I’ve got it!” Robin said. “They all add up to the ‘Good Turn Nautical Navigation Supply’ store!”
“That’s on the other side of town!” said Batgirl. “We’d better hurry!” The three rushed for their respective vehicles.
At the ‘Good Turn Nautical Navigation Supply,’ the River Rats were already in the process of gleefully relieving the store of it’s gyroscopes and accelerometers. The Riddler hopped around as he watched impatiently, acting as both coach and cheerleader. Light from an opening doorway suddenly spilled into the room. Silhouetted in the doorway was the outline of a terrifying apparition with Batlike wings.
“Stand where you are, hoodlums!” ordered Batman as he lowered his outstretched arms, which were draped in his cape.
“The jig is up, Riddler!” seconded Batgirl.
“Riddle me this, Batminions: How are you three like turtles?” the Riddler called out.
“We’ll show you who’s slow, Riddler!” Robin said, clenching his fists.
The Riddler danced around gleefully. “Wrong, wrong, wrong. You’re like turtles becuuuuz...you’re stuck with a very hard case!” He giggled manically.
“I’ve had about enough of this,” Batgirl said to her teammates.
“Let’s get ‘em!” said Robin.
Batman led the charge. “Prepare to succumb, evildoers!”
The three River Rats ran towards the Terrific Trio. Pulling a giant decorative sextant from the wall and holding it before them, our heroes moved in unison to meet the thugs. The two trios crashed together and six sets of hands locked around the sextant in a deathgrip. They strained and pushed against each other. After several tense seconds, goodness prevailed and the thugs were thrown backwards, giving way to the irresistible force of the Terrific Trio.
As Whisker rose to his feet, Batman greeted him with a sock to the jaw.
>SMACK!<
Robin pointed urgently at Whitey’s shoe and, after Whitey foolishly looked down, sent him reeling with an uppercut.
>THWOCK!<
Fangs lunged for Batgirl, who twisted his grasping wrist, spun him around in a circle, and threw him headlong into a giant compass bearing the company’s name.
>WHONNGG!<
Seeing the situation heading south, the Riddler turned to flee. “Robin! Behind you!” called out Batman.
Robin paused in the middle of a punch to the groggy Whitey. He looked around too late to prevent the Riddler from racing past him.
“I can take care of these three! You two stop the Riddler. His escape we can’t risk!” yelled Batgirl.
“She’s right!” said Batman. “Come on, Robin!”
As the Dynamic Duo raced off, the three River Rats charged Batgirl with a newfound optimism. She quickly squashed their hopes by dispatching the first with a high kick (>BAF!<), the second with a heel to the toe, followed up by a knee to the chin (>GUMP!<), and the third by snatching up a vase and shattering it over his head (>KRESH!<).
Batman and Robin continued in hot pursuit of the Riddler. They were gradually catching up with the Wizard of Quiz, who raced frantically for a partially opened door ahead. Zipping through the narrow gap, the Riddler called back tauntingly. “Riddle me this: When is a door not a door?”
Robin responded instantly. “When it’s aja-"
The door was unexpectedly thrown open by a sidekick from the Riddler, causing Robin to run headfirst into the doorjam. In a flash, Batman seized the slim quizmaster by his outstretched leg and tugged him back. The Riddler looked up fearfully as a huge, heavy jar toppled from the doorframe and fell directly on top of him, smashing him to the ground. The jar shattered and the hundreds of glass marbles inside flew out in all directions.
Batman shielded his face for a moment, then let go of the Riddler’s leg. “Are you all right, Robin?” he asked.
“Deah!” Robin, said holding his smarting nose. “Id loogs lige we sdobbed im!”
Batman saw that the door now sported a shoe-shaped hole in it. “Once again you show an appalling lack of regard for private property, Riddler,” he said. “You thought you had us fooled with your little jar-atop-the-door deathtrap, didn’t you? Just a little too convoluted, I’m afraid!”
The Riddler’s jaw hung slack. He tried to speak, but only a bubble emerged from his lips. A stray marble rolled off of his lolling head.
“Hey, it looks like the Riddler’s lost his marb-"
“Don’t say it, Robin! Our planet is still gripped in a perilous crisis.” Batman gripped the Riddler by his green tie. “Now, listen here, you word-twisting worm, you’re going to tell us where you’ve taken those submarines!”
“Buhhh,” answered the Riddler as his eyes glazed over.
Batgirl came racing up to the doorway. “What was that crash? Oh, good, you’ve got the Riddler!” She stooped to examine their prisoner. “It looks like he’s suffered a concussion, though.”
“There’s a hospital a few blocks from here. We’d better take him there quickly before his condition worsens,” said Batman.
”But While Our Heroes Stand In Consternation Around Their Senseless Foe, The Wily River Rat Gang Is Effecting A Getaway!”
Groggily, Whiskers and Fangs moved over to Whitey and shook him awake. All three got to their feet and scurried off.
”And, As Police Sirens Fill The Air, A Siren Of A More Shapely Sort Is Thrust Into The Pulse-Pounding Proceedings!”
The Siren slowly peered over a wall. She watched the Terrific Trio loading the Riddler onto an ambulance.
”A Short Time Later...”
Accompanied by a white-jacketed doctor, the Terrific Trio walked the length of a hospital corridor. Dr. Wow listened as the heroes filled him in on what had transpired.
“It’s absolutely crucial that the Riddler recover enough to be able to talk within the next 24 hours,” said Batman.
“The world is on the brink of disaster, and he’s the only one who can lead us to those submarines!” Robin added.
“We’ll certainly do our best, Dynamic Duo!” the doctor assured them.
“And we need to keep his presence here quiet, doctor,” said Batgirl. “If the word of the theft gets out to the press, it could cause a panic amongst the populace - as well as attract every crook in Gotham down here to get a word with the Riddler.”
Elsewhere in the hospital, a police guard stood alone in a hallway. The Siren cautiously emerged from behind a corner and approached him. Spotting her, the guard warily put a hand to his sidearm. Suddenly, his world seemed to tip as the Siren let out her piercing cry at precisely two octaves above high C. After several long seconds, she let the note die.
“I want you to rush down to the end of the street and wait there for further orders. Quickly!” she said.
Without a word, the guard obediently trotted off. The Siren looked around to make sure she was alone, then pushed open the door that the guard had vacated. She padded across the floor to a bed where the Riddler lay convalescing.
“Riddler,” she whispered. The Riddler was silent.
Nudging him, she said more insistently, “Riddler! I need the coordinates of where you abandoned the submarines. Quickly, before the guards send replacements!”
“Whu?” he responded in confusion.
“It’s the Siren! Do you remember the submarines’ location?”
“Sub..mu...”
“The submarines! Try to remember!”
The Riddler tried to focus on her words. “Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“W-who has the tune…that we’d both like to croon….and o-obtained this bonanza…through religious extravaganza?”
The Siren stared at him in astonishment. “What?!”
“N-name the place that’s referred to the same…although you'd expect an evolving variety of namesake names.”
She grabbed his shirtfront and started shaking him furiously. “You-listen-here-you-sorry-excuse-for-a-partner! You-can-be-addle-brained-for-the-rest-of-your-miserable-life-but-first-you’re-going-to-tell-me-where-those-subs-are!!”
The Riddler gasped as his head jerked back and forth. “‘Kay! Okay! Sub...”
“Yes?” she said, releasing him.
“Sub...pose we have isolation such that...”
“Aaagh!” she screamed. “We don’t have time for that!!” She punctuated her remarks with a slap to the face.
From the hallway came the voice of Doctor Wow. “...and possibly some broken ribs. Of course, we won’t know the full extent of the damage until we’re able to run a complete battery of tests.” The Siren froze while the Riddler continued to mumble.
The next voice was Batman’s. “When will that be, Doctor?”
“At this point, we’re just waiting to determine the Riddler’s insurance status.”
The voices were getting louder. The Siren crept over to the door. She opened her mouth and took in a deep preparatory breath.
“The key to the continuation of life as we know it rests in your hands and you’re not going to act until you get confirmation of his insurance?!” said an incredulous feminine voice.
“Batgirl! Blast it all” the Siren muttered to herself. “I’ll have to try later.” She headed for the window.
“Where’s the guard that was stationed here?” asked Batman as he reached the door.
The three crimefighters entered the room, followed by the physician. Batgirl immediately noticed that the window was open and rushed over to it. Batman sniffed at the air.
“That enchanting fragrance. Someone was here just moments ago.”
“Well, whoever it was is gone now,” Batgirl replied as she looked out the window.
“Hey, look!” said Robin. “The Riddler’s saying something!”
They anxiously crowded around the Riddler. “Isolation, such isolation,” he mumbled as he drifted back into incoherence.
“Riddler! We want to help you,” insisted Batman.
Doctor Wow shined a small light into the Riddler’s eyes. “I’m afraid he’s unconscious again, Batman. You won’t be able to question him for quite some time.”
Minutes later, the four emerged dejectedly from the entrance of the hospital. Per some hasty instructions, a number of guards - two of them female - now watched the main doors. Spying a reporter headed in their direction, the heroes quickly turned and headed for their vehicles.
It was radio celebrity Barry Brown. “Well, well, well, the ‘Terrific Trio,’” he said, tagging along behind. “Mind telling me what’s going on in there that’s so important, Batman?”
“We were just checking up on a crime victim, but everything is okay,” Batman replied, without slowing his pace.
“What’s this victim’s name? Strange that the Gotham Naval Base has been on alert going on four days and this is the most important thing you three have to do.”
“The Navy is handling that situation and we have full confidence in them,” Batgirl said, choosing her words carefully.
“What kind of a rube do you take me for?” said Brown. “There’re guards at every entrance to the hospital. Why don’t you wise up and spill the beans? I promise I’ll go easy on you for whatever screw-ups were made. There might even be a little cash in it for ya.”
“Why, that smarmy...” Robin muttered under his breath. Doctor Wow motioned to a guard, who stepped over to block Brown from following them.
“Don’t worry about me,” he called out after the foursome. “I’ve got plenty of sources I can check besides you ‘heroes.’”
Just before ducking into the Batmobile, Robin took a quick look around the hospital parking lot. A number of dirty vehicles were circling slowly around the lot, with their drivers slunk low in their seats.
Doctor Wow leaned in close to them so that he wouldn’t be overheard. “I hate to say it, but we’ll have a better chance of hushing this news up if you three stay away from the hospital, at least until the Riddler is lucid again. You attract too much attention for my staff to get anything done.”
Batman nodded reluctantly. “You’re right, of course, doctor.”
Wow waved a chart reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a full team of doctors ready to work on the Riddler round the clock.”
“As soon as you get the okay from his insurance company,” Batgirl said in a low but clearly annoyed tone.
“Don’t worry,” Wow nervously assured her. “That’s just one of those pesky business necessities. We’ll take care of him.” The end of his statement was drowned out by the sound of Batgirl kickstarting her cycle.
"And, at Barbara Gordon’s Midtown Apartment, Some Hours Later...”
Barbara had set up a large map of the eastern seaboard in front of her canary’s birdcage. Charlie the canary watched with interest as she used a pointer to tap a body of water on the map.
“...so in that fourteen hours, the Riddler could have taken the subs as far south as Lackawater Point...and as far north as Fishkill Cove. He also might have put in at Amoeba Inlet. Come to think of it, he could have snuck inland up the Hogtrough River, too.” She sighed.
“I’m afraid there’s just too many possibilities for me to check out on my own, Charlie. I’ll be most effective by doing my part to help get the Riddler talking. Unfortunately, the greedy hospital management wants verification of health insurance before they give the Riddler their full attention.”
She strolled over towards her secret room. “Sooo I’ll just have to make sure they’re properly motivated. Another wig and some tighter clothing transform me into...” putting on the wig, she spun to face Charlie. “...Master Insurance Claims Representative!”
At stately Wayne Manor, Dick, Bruce and Alfred were pacing solemnly back and forth in the study.
“Our best bet is for you to take the Batcopter and head due east and see if you can locate any trace of those subs,” Bruce instructed Dick. “If the Riddler happened to bang up against an outcropping of rocks, there may be some debris on the water.”
“You’re not coming along?” Dick asked.
“I’m afraid not. I got enough of a look at Dr. Wow’s physician schedule to keep me close to home.”
“You recognized one of the names on the list?”
“I did indeed. Imagine a man with a brow like Shakespeare, a face like Satan, and the magnetic eyes of a cat. Imagine a man with a giant intellect and all the resources of science, past and present, at his disposal. Then imagine a cheap, second-rate imitation of that individual.”
Alfred looked up. “You don’t mean that horrid Dr. Daka?”
“The dastardly demon doctor himself,” confirmed Bruce.
“But he’s in jail,” said Dick.
“No longer, Dick. I just contacted the penitentiary. Apparently Warden Crichton felt that letting Daka out on work release would take his mind off of world domination and get him once again engrossed in the science of medicine. The warden issued a glowing recommendation and assurances of Daka’s complete reform. The hospital approved his posting several weeks ago.”
“If I might offer an opinion, I’d say this fellow is too dangerous to have access to any sharp objects, let alone an entire building full of them,” said Alfred. “I fail to see the wisdom of tasking such a person with mending the injured.”
Dick nodded. “You bet, Alfred! We might not have stopped him the first time if he wasn’t so bloodthirsty that he kept a pit full of alligators under his hideout.”
“The loss of his arm and leg to his hungry pets only served to fuel his psychosis,” responded Bruce, “and his unquenchable thirst for conquest of the Western Hemisphere still burns in his belly, long after the death of his emperor.”
“But the more we hang around the hospital, the more we risk revealing the missile theft and starting worldwide chaos!” Dick exclaimed. “Aw, heck! What’s the use, Bruce? You can’t be there to keep Daka away from the Riddler, and I’ve got hundreds of miles of ocean to search!!”
“If I may say, Master Bruce, this looks like a very dark situation indeed,” Alfred agreed.
Bruce looked up at the large portrait of a couple that hung on the wall. The man in the painting looked exactly like Bruce except that he had a mustache.
“Twenty-seven years ago, I made a solemn vow to uphold the legacy of my father, physician Thomas Wayne, by avenging his murder and sparing all who walk Gotham’s streets from his grim fate. Now, the time has come for me to follow in his footsteps in a more definitive manner - to emulate his traits beyond mere bravery.”
He opened the drawer of a desk beneath where the portrait hung, and with great reverence removed a doctor’s bag.
Dick recognized it immediately. “Your father’s medical kit! You’re going to be a doctor!”
Alfred hesitated a moment before deciding to speak. “Begging your pardon, Master Bruce, but even with your all-encompassing sagacity, you cannot hope to match the decades of knowledge your father compiled in the medical field.”
"Are you forgetting my successful rehydration of the World Security Council members?"
Alfred cleared his throat and looked down.
"On second thought, disregard that one," said Bruce, recalling the scathing commentaries he'd endured from Barry Brown following that lingual catastrophe.
He snapped his fingers. "How about the time we repaired Batgirl's eardrums during our second clash with the Siren? True, I may not have performed many other complex procedures that involved living, human patients - yet! However, I have a stout heart and a steady hand. Plus...I have something more to guide me.”
Patting his father’s bag, Bruce turned and strode purposefully from the room.
Fully disguised as the insurance representative, Barbara had returned to the hospital and was now making introductions.
“I’m Cecile Hamilton, with Glomco Insurance. I’m here about the Riddler,” she said as she shook hands with Doctor Wow and a nurse named Blondy Jo.
“Thank you for coming so promptly, Ms. Hamilton,” the doctor replied. “We’ve been told to treat Mr. Nygma’s case as a high priority, but we’ve been trying to go through traditional channels and keep a low profile on this one. Speaking of which, what prompted Glomco to send someone out in person?”
“Well, I suppose I can tell you. Just between us medical professionals, we at Glomco aren’t too sure we made the wisest choices with respect to Mr. Nygma. There’s some concern at headquarters over Mr. Nygma being signed up under our double platinum unlimited coverage with no maximum dollar limit.”
The women watched an expression of pure rapture spread across Dr. Wow’s features.
“Doctor?” asked the nurse, but he could not hear her - his ears were currently overwhelmed by the sound of angels singing. For a moment, Barbara could swear that she saw dollars signs instead of pupils in the man’s eyes.
“Thank you, thank you!” Wow’s breathless whisper seemed to be directed at a being other than Barbara or the nurse.
Finally noticing their quizzical expressions, he managed to snap out of his euphoria. “Well, what are you standing around for, Nurse?” he demanded. “A man’s life is in danger! Run those tests!”
“Which tests, doctor?” asked Blondy Jo.
“All of them!” he answered, waving the Riddler’s chart. “Why, just look at his condition! He needs every test we’ve got! Heck, we may need to come up with some brand new tests just for this case!”
“Oh, thank you, Doctor,” Barbara said, containing a grin. “I knew I could trust our client to your care.”
“Why don’t we go check up on him now?” he suggested.
Meanwhile, the peacefulness of the Riddler’s hospital room had been invaded by the warped, scheming presence of Doctor Daka. The claw-handed doctor looked even more ancient than the last time he had crossed swords with the Caped Crusaders.
Daka hovered over the Riddler’s inert from. “Hear me, Riddler! You will reveal your secrets to me and me alone! I covet the submarines in your possession!”
The Riddler responded was another heavily slurred rhyme. “Here’s a gem, but it’ll cost ya. What’s a walkway filled with pasta?”
Seizing his patient by the shoulders, Daka snarled, “You will take me to them of your own free will...or you will go there as a mindless zombie servant. It matters not to me. Speak, you over-rated simpleton!” Drool dribbled down the Riddler's chin.
Behind him, Doctor Wow and Barbara entered the room. “This is your final chance to preserve the contents of your feeble trivia-filled mind!” Daka bellowed, unaware of their presence.
“Doctor, what’s going on here?” asked Doctor Wow.
Grabbing up a tongue depressor with his good hand, Daka’s tone abruptly changed. “Your reflexes seem to be progressing nicely, Mr. Riddler. Now be a good patient and say ‘aah’.” He turned and pretended to notice the pair behind him for the first time.
“Oh, Doctah Wow, how pleasant to see you. I was just trying to persuade the Riddler to open his mouth. It pleases him to make a game of it.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Dr. Wow decided, after a moment’s hesitation. “But be careful of how you address our patient. We’ve got a guest from his insurance provider. Allow me to introduce, from Glomco Insurance, Cecile...”
The door suddenly opened and Bruce Wayne entered, carrying his father’s medical bag.
“Bruce Wayne!” said Dr. Wow. “Well, I see that some further introductions are in order.”
Sensing her cover was about to be blown, Barbara promptly buried her face in her notebook and stepped out of Wayne’s direct line of vision.
Daka chuckled nervously. “I must confess that all these visitors are really not good for the patient’s rest. Let me assure you that I will stay by this poor man’s side each minute of the day until I see his full recovery.”
“That won’t be necessary, Dr. Daka” announced Bruce. “I believe I can treat the Riddler from this point forward.”
“You...you can, Mr. Wayne?” asked Dr. Wow. “Have you ever studied medicine?”
“Oh yes, I’ve dabbled in it extensively in my spare time. And I fondly recall the bedtime stories told to me by my late father, physician Thomas Wayne, about his work here.”
Daka looked at Wayne scornfully. “Do tell, Mr. Wayne,” he said. “I am most anxious to learn the details of your medical certification. Please to tell us the school where you earned your medical degree.”
“A more reputable institution than the den of vipers that spawned your certification, no doubt.”
“Really?” sneered Daka. “And the name of your alma mater?”
“An Enduring Concern For My Fellow Man! You might call it the ‘school of life’ - in my case, a life lived cleanly and responsibly.”
Daka made an insincere attempt to conceal his snickering. “Well, that is most impressive, Mistah Wayne. But I suppose we will have to let Doctor Wow settle this matter. He ultimately bears the responsibility for all physician work-assignments...in the event of future litigation.”
“I’ll need to check with his insurance provider,” answered Dr. Wow. “What is your opinion on this, Ms....Hamilton? Where did she go?”
Slipping out into the hallway, Barbara lowered the notebook from her face and let out a sigh of relief. She briskly departed from the area.
“I guess she had to leave,” Dr. Wow said, giving a shrug. “Uh, Mr. Wayne, are you sure that your medical...experience...qualifies you to handle advanced cranial trauma cases?”
“The four million dollars I donated to the Needy Children’s Wing says it does.”
“Well?” said Daka, growing impatient. “What is your decision?”
There was a long pause before Doctor Wow spoke. “After considering all aspects of Mr. Wayne’s background, I’m satisfied with his credentials to practice medicine here.”
“What?! That is absurd!” roared Daka.
“Now don’t worry, Doctor. There are plenty of important assignments here that we need your help on,” Wow said, moving to calm his subordinate.
Daka shook his claw hand in the air. “I have poured my efforts into this case! The Riddler must remain my patient! In his fragile state, any disruption to his routine could be catastrophic!”
“Sure, sure,” said his superior, steering him towards the door. “Say, Tito, we’re sooo shorthanded over in the bedpan cleaning section. Why don’t you be a sport and see if you can give them a hand over there?”
Daka shot Wayne a look of pure venom. Wayne continued to smile confidently, completely ignoring Daka.
“You may have won this battle, Mistah Wayne. But you must be careful that your impetuous need to be of assistance does not result in an unfortunate death.” Daka leaned towards Wayne. “You will find that life is a very tenuous thing within these walls.”
“I won’t keep you from your bedpans, sir. Good day.”
As Wow escorted a grumbling Daka from the room, Wayne held up the Riddler’s patient chart and scrutinized it. “Doctor Wow, I will report to you within the hour on my diagnosis.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wayne!” chirped the eager-to-please Wow.
“Later, As The Initial Shift In His Promising New Career Draws To A Close, Bruce Wayne Seeks Solitude In The Employee Break Room”
Standing off in a corner of the empty room, Bruce spoke into a miniaturized radio hidden in his jacket. “Where are you, Robin?”
“Approximately ninety miles from your position, passing over Mouthwash Reservoir,” came the response from the Batcopter. “No sign of the submarines so far!”
“I’m not making any progress with the Riddler either, but at least I’m keeping Dr. Daka at bay.”
“Any news from Batgirl?”
“Not so far. Well, keep me posted. Good hunting.”
“Roger - over and out!” said Robin.
Bruce hastily stashed the radio in his jacket as he heard someone entering the room behind him. It was Nurse Blondy Jo, now clad in her street clothes.
“This is the employee lounge, ma’am. Do you work here?” asked Bruce.
“Ah sure do, sugah!” said the buxom belle. “Ah jest went off duty. Say! Aren’t you theyat handsome new doctah, Bruce Wayne?” She sidled up to him.
“Yes, I suppose I am. I must say, however, that I am undeserving of your adjectives.” Bruce was encountering some difficulty in getting all of the long radio cord stowed back in his coat.
“Why, ah’ll bet yoah jest the most talented doctor in the hospital! And so humble, too!”
“Please, please - I am new to the facility and still have much to learn,” Bruce said, concealing the stray cord with his medical bag.
The smile faded from the pretty blond’s face as something dawned on her. “Oh, ah do apologahze. I’m keepin’ you from your work, ain’t I? Youah supposed to be getting’ trained on theyat new-fangled machine in Ampitheatah B!”
“I’m supposed to be in Amphitheater B?” Bruce asked, completely disconcerted. “Are you sure?”
“Heah ah’m getting’ you in a heap a’trouble! You best come along with me, sugah!”
They two marched down the corridor, with Blondy Jo leading Bruce along by the hand.
“Let me stop in here briefly to check on a patient,” Bruce said as they passed the Riddler’s room.
“Oh, ah don’t know if you bettah do that! Youah late already.”
“It will just take a moment, nurse,” he said firmly.
Bruce entered the room. He could make out the form of the Riddler sleeping soundly in the darkness. He started to depart, then stopped and took a closer look. His sharp eyes were able to make out a headpiece encircling the Riddler’s forehead.
“And what’s this?” he said, striding toward the bed.
Before he could reach the Riddler, the lights blazed on. Doctor Daka stepped out from behind some curtains. Daka’s prosthetic claw attachment had by now been replaced by his “gun-hand,” which he kept trained on Wayne and Blondy Jo.
“Oh, mah word!” exclaimed the nurse.
“Stand back, Miss!” Bruce cautioned.
“You have most inopportune timing, Mistah Wayne,” Daka observed.
“What’s this headpiece you’ve got on the Riddler?” asked Bruce. “Isn’t that one of your zombie devices I’ve read about?” Bruce knew from experience that once it was activated, the Riddler would be compelled to follow Daka’s every command.
“If you take one more step, I will be forced to shoot you," Daka stated calmly.
“And the Riddler? What will you do with him?”
“Be assured that I will see to Mr. Nygma’s care personally. How unfortunate that you will not be there to witness his recovery.”
“You can do with me what you will, you venomous rodent, but know this - you will never control my mind.”
“Your mind is not worth controlling, Mistah Wayne. I would not waste the electricity necessary to convert you into a zombie. You are merely a spoiled pest to be exterminated.”
“Cornered By His Arch-Enemy, Bruce Wayne Is Forced To Fight For His Very Existence As He Has Never Done Before!”
With a righteous fury, Wayne hurled his father’s doctor bag at Daka. The heavy satchel nailed Daka squarely in the chin, knocking him to the floor.
“Take one dosage of swift justice, Daka!” Bruce advised his co-worker.
Bruce cautioned Blondy Jo back away from the villain. As he approached his foe cautiously, Blondy Jo produced a syringe from her waistband and injected Bruce with it.
Stunned, Bruce could only murmer, “Nurse?” before toppling over. Blondy Jo moved to help Daka to his feet.
The aging criminal congratulated the young woman. “You have done well, Blondy Jo. You are a most useful mole. One never sees such ingenuity in the ranks of the zombified.”
She smiled. “Yoah jest lucky ah’m natchilly evil.”
Elsewhere in the hospital, Barbara Gordon was pacing the empty hallway. “I can’t afford to have Bruce Wayne blowing my cover at this stage...but hopefully he’s gone home by now,” she said to herself.
She stopped in front of the Riddler’s door and listened intently. She could hear the sound of electrical crackling from within the room. Steeling herself for danger, Barbara threw open the door and entered.
She saw sparks fly around the Riddler’s head. His entire body was completely rigid. Dr. Daka was kneeling beside the bed, his hand operating a fiendish portable zombie generator. Bruce Wayne lay unconscious nearby on the floor.
A hand holding a cloth soaked in chloroform suddenly clamped over Barbara’s mouth and nose from behind. Nurse Blondy Jo wrapped her free arm around Barbara’s torso, pinning her arms to her sides just long enough for the drug to take effect. Barbara resisted briefly, then slumped unconcious in her arms.
“Excellent!” declared Daka. “Quickly, tie her up while I complete the preparations for the Riddler!”
Barbara awoke moments later to find herself bound to a chair. The Riddler was now sitting up straight in the bed. Daka was putting away his zombie generator, his foul task apparently completed.
Daka picked up a microphone and spoke into it. “Riddler! Pick Mistah Wayne up by the shoulders and follow me!”
Barbara could only watch helplessly as the robot-like Riddler obediently rose from his bed and hauled Bruce Wayne out of the room. Blondy Jo waved to Barbara as the group departed. “Naghty-naght!”
Bruce Wayne slowly regained consciousness. He, too, found himself tied up, only in his case, to a bizarre metal contraption. The towering device contained numerous skeletal arms, all ending in scalpels, and he was lying at it’s epicenter.
“Ah, you are awake,” Daka said, standing over him. “Good. They become angry when you reserve an amphitheater and do not put it to use...although no one is likely to be checking at one a.m.”
“What’cha gonna do to ‘im, Docter?” Blondy Jo asked with glee.
Daka seemed to savor his words. “In my homeland, every medical student knows by heart the details of the surgery upon Ashiro Motsumi. Mr. Motsumi was given a kidney transplant, a bone marrow transfusion, an appendectomy, and treated for a hangnail, all in a single sitting. It was the most complex medical procedure ever undertaken, and established a record for the amount of yen awarded in a single insurance claim. Since my days as an intern, it has been my life’s ambition to surpass that record, blazing my name forever in the annals of medical history! Tonight, Mr. Wayne, you will assist me in reaching that goal by serving as my patient in the most bizarre - and needless - series of operations ever undertaken. There is no need for you to worry, of course. In order for this record to be of any value, history must show that you survived the operations - for at least several hours.”
Daka’s finger traced the edge of several scalpels. "You see now before you the most powerful engine of surgery ever known to man or cattle. This device can perform eight different surgeries simultaneously. Regrettably, the complexity of this procedure precludes the use of anesthesia. However, I am sure a man of medicine such as yourself would not want to miss the opportunity to witness such an all-encompassing agendum.”
He threw a switch, activating the monstrous device. It groaned and jerked to life.
Daka spoke into the microphone. “Mistah Riddler, we will be departing now.”
As Daka and Blondy Jo exited with the zombified Riddler, Bruce struggled futilely amidst a frenzy of thrashing metal appendages.
“This Is A Tense And Tragic Moment!
Never In Bruce Wayne’s Life Has The Situation Been So Dramatic!
What Will Happen Now To Bruce As Robin, Ninety Miles Away In The Batcoper, Is Unaware Of This Latest And Serious Development?
And What Is To Become Of Robin And Batgirl? Will They Too Fall Victim To The Murderous Designs Of Doctor Daka?
The Fate Of The Planet Hangs By The Frailest Of Threads!
Don’t Dare To Miss Our Thrilling Finale!
Same Bat-Time! Same Bat-Website!”
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