The World's Mightiest Mortals
Chapter 2: "Men of Steel, Hearts of Mettle"
Billy Batson -- ????? (Alex Linz/ Eli Marienthal)
Captain Marvel -- Jerry Doyle/ John Schneider
Shazam -- David Warner/ David Kaye
Dr. Sivana -- Paul Williams III
Slade -- Richard Moll
Uncle Dudley -- Kevin Murphy
Batman/Bruce Wayne -- Kevin Conroy
Superman/Clark Kent -- Tim Daly/ George Newbern
The Messenger -- Christopher MacDonald and Shelley Fabares
Ebenezer Batson -- Henry Polic II
Sterling Morris -- Bob Hastings/ Lloyd Bochner
Commissioner Jim Barr/ Bulletman -- Mike Farrell
Barbara Grand -- ????? (Mary Jo Pehl/ Tress MacNeille)
Freddy Freeman -- ?????
Mary Bromfield -- ????? (Brie Larson/ Carly McLillip/ Maggie O'Hara)
* * *
With a single glance, Kent read the various newspaper articles on the earthquake sites, and worked out a good map of their progression in his head. After the accident at the school, he'd spent most of the day talking to reporters at the Herald, geologists they had in turn talked to, and basically getting a feel for the pattern of the earthquakes. If I can't stop them at their source, I might be able to track down their next appearance...
His thoughts were suddenly impeded by a dull roll of thunder in the distance, one that strangely raised the hairs on his neck. Looking out the hotel window, he was mildly surprised not to see any storm clouds within the city limits. He briefly considered the possibility that the sound was actually of blasting caps and dynamite in use, but quickly discounted it. No one working for Luthor would be that sloppy.
Taking off his tie, he quickly stripped off his shirt and pants, revealing his other set of "working clothes". Despite being of a bright blue material with a red-bordered yellow pentagram with a highly stylized "S" inside of it, his skintight uniform had somehow remained unseen beneath his plain white business shirt. His costume was topped off with bright red boots, trunks (which most often seemed black with a broad red stripe down each side when the light hit it), and a long bright red cape which almost magically unfolded out behind him. Removed glasses and a quick mussing of his hair finished the job, and Clark Kent, for now, was gone. Superman gave the outside of his hotel room one last X-ray- and telescopic-enhanced glance to make sure no one happened to be looking before stepping out onto the balcony. Planting a foot on the railing, he was about to leap off when...
"Any suspects, so far?"
Whirling around faster than the eye could follow, Superman spotted the source of his inquiry immediately. "How do you do that?"
"Trade secret," came out from unseen, slightly smirking lips. In the deep shadow along the outside wall, only two half-glowing eyes could be seen but, as he moved off from the ledge onto the balcony floor, they became part of the Batman's all too-familiar uniform. As ever, it was a black and grey arrangement, topped off with a flowing cloak, a masked cowl with little ears (which looked like blades on either side of his head than actual bat ears everyday it seemed), and, as if the form of his mask and cape weren't enough, a large black emblem of a bat on his chest.
"I saw you in the news about the earthquake by the school. You kept yourself hidden for once."
"I don't want Luthor's men getting wind of me before it's too late." A good-natured smirk of his own then appeared. "I may not be as good at shadow games as you are, but I do know when to keep out of sight."
"You suspect Luthor is responsible for the earthquakes?"
Looking off into the canyons of steel and glass mountains, Superman thought back to the accident... "About a month ago, I came across a train wreck a few miles out of Fawcett. I did my best to help, but the train had been transporting mining equipment, including a rather large shipment of blasting caps that had been scattered around the crash site. When the earthquakes started happening here, I thought back to all the mining equipment I'd seen. A little fact checking found that there were no mining operations currently taking place within city limits, nor any demolition that would need that sort of equipment. A little more checking..."
"... And you found that the shipment had been for LexCorp."
"It was for a small oil drilling co-op, which just so happened to be a subsidiary of an arm of a branch of a division of... LexCorp Enterprises," Superman finished with a rather self-satisfied smile. "There hasn't been another shipment of equipment by the same group, nor by any other that may have anything to do with Luthor, so I suspect he's sent in an entirely secret group of his to do the job."
"Which is... ?"
Any hint of smugness instantly evaporated, as Superman dejectedly shook his head. "I have no idea. They're burrowing underneath the city for some reason, of course, but I haven't a clue what it could be. It could be just a new scheme to drum up business for LexCorp, or it could have something to do with another planned attack on me."
Hoping to avoid any "he's an amateur" attitude off the detective, he then started with his own line of questions. "But enough about me. Why are you here? Disaster relief would be better left to the Wayne Foundation."
Unlike himself, Superman saw no waves of satisfaction at a good bit of detective work, nor determination in the face of adversity from a long-time foe. An aura of guilt and failure were par for the course with the Batman, but more so than usual now as the Dark Knight shamefully turned his face away.
"In a way, the same thing brought us here to Fawcett. Years ago, I had to deal with an embezzler named Ebenezer Batson. He didn't get away with much, but he did get away. After the earthquakes started, Bruce Wayne was told that the declining property values and businesses being sold off here were being taken advantage of by the same man."
Suddenly, he fell silent, as if trying to keep back painful memories. After a brief pause, he started again. "What's more, I found out he was the son of one of my mentors, an archaeologist, and he'd gained control of the family fortune after the death of his brother and his sister-in-law."
He mildly shook his head as he regained control over himself. Facing Superman, he said, "I don't believe he's connected with the earthquakes... he doesn't have the resources for that. But he may have something to do with his brother's death. I owe it to a teacher, and... a friend to stop him and expose him."
Superman's eyes narrowed at his sometimes comrade. "There's something else, isn't there? Something personal about this, too..."
To his credit, any surprise at Kent's intuitiveness didn't show on Batman's face. "I've just learned that the brother and his wife had a son who survived the accident that took them." As realization appeared on Superman's face, he continued. "Ebenezer's as sloppy as ever. He claims that the boy's now at a private school overseas, but anyone who would care to check will find no such thing happened. No records to tickets on an airplane or a ship, no registration with any schools, nothing."
The dark knight detective then leapt onto the railing, removing his wirespoon gun from his utility belt in preparation to get on with his investigation. "I don't know whether he's still alive or not, but if he is, his uncle's left him with no means to someday avenge his parents like I did. I must do it for him."
Before he could leap off, Superman struck his sometimes friend with a studying glare. "And if he did have the means... ?"
The Batman didn't turn to face him, only stood silently as the grappling hook fired across the chasms between buildings. "I would still rather it be me."
He then leapt, swinging from rooftop to rooftop in his never ending search for justice. Watching him slowly disappear into the distance, Superman shook his head. He then pointed his hands to the sky and, with but a thought, floated away into the night's sky.
* * *
"Rise and shine, kid!" *PLOMP*
Jolted awake, Billy looked around frantically before seeing the small stack of bound-up newspapers next to his curled up form. Shaking the cobwebs out, he found he could recall last night's dream with perfect clarity for a change. Running down to the gate, he found it securely locked and undisturbed. "It was a dream. It had to be!"
Retracing his steps back up to the entrance, he smiled sadly as he gathered up the newspapers. "Kind of a nice dream, in a lot of ways, but still just a dream." Going outside, he shielded his eyes as the sun peaked over the horizon, Fawcett City's giant skyscrapers still unable to block it out.
"Old wizards... magic lighting... I'll have to straighten it out in my head later," he said to himself as he pulled out a copy, hoping to sell a few papers before heading on off to school.
An hour or so later, as Billy was about to close up shop for the morning, a large man in a dark suit with sandy blonde hair and a grim face walked up to him. "Give me a paper, kid," the grim-faced man more ordered than asked in a heavily stilted deep voice. The blood draining from his face, Billy quickly pulled out a fresh copy to the imposing man. Astounded by the customer's appearance, it barely even registered with him when the man paid. As he walked away, Billy couldn't help but stare after him. Almost seven feet tall, the man was obviously well-muscled, but proportioned out just right so that, unless standing next to an average man, his stature and musculature would have gone largely unnoticed.
Looking in the direction the man was headed brought to Billy's attention the time on a nearby clock tower. A short gasp later, Billy was back in the abandoned subway's entrance, stuffing the newspapers into his book bag before he dashed off to school. He didn't even give the stairs down into the subway's depths a second look, last night's events further than ever from his mind.
As Billy raced against time, the tall man idly looked over the paper, glancing across the article on the continuing earthquakes, then at the business section, hailing Ebenezer Batson's continuing windfalls in real estate. With a deep grunt at the article, he then turned his attention to the entrance of a small office building. The doorman meekly stepped aside as the human giant strode past him inside, having paid him no mind.
Nearly embedding an elevator button into the wall with a light push, the man waited until the elevator arrived, empty. Stepping inside, the tall man began to reach into his pocket when a rather nebbish-looking mustached fellow, of average height with thick glasses perched precariously on his nose, also stepped in. Reaching over to hit a button, the man stopped and, looking up, noticed the gloomy-faced man giving him a more sour than usual look. Breaking out in a cold sweat, the mustached man gave an unconvincing wide smile, accompanied by a nervous chuckle, before practically jumping out of the elevator, its doors silently sliding shut behind him.
Alone, the grim-faced man withdrew a small key from his pocket. Rather than hitting the button for the third floor, where the oil drilling co-op he was officially assigned to was located, he slid the key into a keyhole on the control panel and turned, unlocking the security measures that prevented unauthorized personnel from going to special floors. Pressing a button marked "SB," the grim man then waited patiently until the elevator stopped in the sub-basement. As the doors lid open, he withdrew the key and walked into the darkened level as the doors slid close behind him.
Hearing some raucous laughter off in the distance, he stalked over to a badly lit room, once used for storage, now currently appropriated by a trio of men whose appearance screamed bad company. Sitting on old crates, they encircled an old table for a game of cards, the tallest of them, a weaselly-looking man in a blue suit with slicked-back hair and a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, apparently having all the luck over his companions, a medium-sized, hook-nosed man in a green suit with a black bowler perched on his head, and a rather short, rotund-looking tough, his brown coat hanging off the back of his chair and his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing surprisingly brawny forearms.
Smiling snidely as he scooped up his most recent batch of chips, the taller man's smirk disappeared when he looked up and saw the even-taller man standing in the doorway, slightly bent over to poke his head underneath the arch. Taken aback by the visitor's appearance, rather than reach into his coat for his gun, the slick-looking man was thus stalled in time for a description to pop back into his head. "Oh! Uh, you're Mr. Slade, right?" he nervously asked as his cohorts suddenly turned and looked in fright at their gloomy-looking guest. Arching an eyebrow as he briefly pondered the three shady-looking men, the sour-faced man's face took on an even darker frown. "Where is Killgrave?" he inquired, not wishing to deal with them.
"The professor's down in the cave, boss," the bowler-wearing man nervously choked out in attempted respect. "He and the other nerds are working hard on their machine."
Giving them one last disgusted glance, Slade then turned and walked away, the three thugs each letting go of their breath as they gulped for air, the worst being over. Slade only briefly pondered their presence; he hadn't been told about them but the reason for them was obvious. As if having his own crack research team and that creepy Spider along with him weren't enough, "Killgrave" had gone and hired a bunch of local thugs for who knows what reason. Out of LexCorp R&D's sub-basements only a month and he was already taking advantage of the situation. No wonder Mr. Luthor had assigned him to oversee the project...
Further down the darkened hallway, Slade reached for the doorknob of another door and, without meaning to, easily tore it out when the door wouldn't budge. Tossing it aside, he broke the door down with a mild shove and entered the room, quickly looking at the other end of the doorknob to see that it had been locked from the inside. He then turned his attention to the room he'd entered, bare but for a series of overalls, hard hats, and work boots lining the wall by the door, and a large hole in the ground. Donning just the boots, Shade stalked down the makeshift stairs cut into the dirt beneath the hole.
Down a short way, he entered a vast cavern, in which to his mild surprise was parked a giant, violet-colored, slightly oval-shaped machine. It was surrounded by a number of nervous-looking men and women, most in overalls but a few in radiation suits, as they operated on the machine's inner workings through opened hatches, or worked with chemistry sets on folded out tables around the cavern. The few in radiation suits were even slowly waving Geiger counters back and forth above Petri dishes filled with soil samples. Ignoring them, Slade headed directly for the machine.
The machine was called, with only minor sneering, the "mole machine" due to its more distinguishing features. The sides of it were lined with giant tank treads with large spikes cropping up from each tread, along with paw-like constructs in front of them which forced loose dirt to be either mashed down by the threads, or merely forced out of the way. The primary reason for the name, however, was a giant drill that extended from and nearly took up the entire front end of the machine, except for a series of powerful spotlights, and a series of gated windows from which those inside the control cabin could look out. Looking through the murky, dust-covered windows, he could see someone moving inside.
Moving for the side of the machine, where a hatch had been opened to form a gangplank with folding stair steps on it, Slade was only mildly taken aback when a figure jumped seemingly from nowhere in front of him. The diminutive figure, slightly hunchbacked, dressed in yellow overalls, with sunken, googly eyes, a single fang-like snaggletooth poking out from his upper gums, and scraggily black hair topping off its head and back of his hands, jumped up and down not unlike a circus monkey and waved frantically at Slade. "You no enter! Master not to be disturbed!" Spider squeaked at him.
Giving the little fellow an annoyed look, Slade then shot out a foot, kicking him and sending him flying through the hatchway into the machine, finally crashing against the inner hull. Hearing the sounds of work with tools and beakers around him suddenly stop, Slade turned to look at the others working in the cave, who all hurriedly returned to their toolboxs or Bunsen burners. Walking up the gangplank, Slade barely glanced as the dwarfish hunchback picked himself up as he walked up the short stairs to the control cabin. Opening the door, he dejectedly sighed and shook his head as "I try to stop him, Master" came up from the depths behind him.
Inside, a short spindly gnome of a man, situated in the "driver's seat," looked up from a small table overflowing with old blueprints, city planning maps, and likewise documents. Unlike Ebenezer Batson, the slightly hunched man's height ended at five and a half regardless of his posture, his form clothed in functional brown shoes, black pants, and a deep green old-fashioned lab coat that enclosed his upper body up to his neck. The man's head was completely bald, apparently a trade-off given to a slightly enlarged cranium, with a set of large, almost pointed ears on either side. Beneath a pair of eyebrows, which seemed to be permanently arched in anger, were a pair of barely visible beady eyes trapped beneath black-rimmed coke bottle glasses perched on a short hawk-like nose. Further down was a mouth from which even when closed protruded a pronounced set of buck-teeth.
The mouth was now fully opened, spilling an annoyed snarl of a voice tinged with the slightest hint of some ambiguous European accent. Showing no surprise at the sudden appearance of the giant, recognized from his time with LexCorp, the bespectacled man merely spat out, "What do you want, Slade? I'm very busy right now." Returning to his maps, he followed lines of longitude and latitude while punching figures into what looked to be a homemade calculator. "I nearly have Langley's tomb within our grasp!"
Another frown crossed Slade's face. "Mr. Luthor is deeply disturbed by your apparent lack of progress," he said without a trace of irony. Almost certainly caused by you spending more time playing with your oversized toy and reveling in your freedom than any real excavation, he privately thought. "I have been sent to put you back on schedule."
Looking down, he noticed a bowl-shaped wig of mousey brown hair and a set of green-colored protective goggles on the floor, evidently having been thrown across the room earlier. Picking them up, he sauntered over to the bald man who, rather than afraid, looked even more annoyed by this interruption. "And you were explicitly ordered to wear these at all times, ‘Professor Killgrave,'" he said as he set the goggles over the man's own glasses. Slade then slapped the wig down on his bald pate, nearly forcing Killgrave's neckbone into the hollow at the base of his skull.
As "Killgrave" angrily rubbed his neck, checking to make sure his central nervous system was still in working order in the process, a small growl built up from the professor's throat. Unimpeded, Slade went on with a still-serious expression. "It wouldn't do for LexCorp Enterprises to be found harboring an infamous mad scientist and war criminal, now would it?"
Enough is enough! Snatching the wig and goggles off, "Killgrave" hurled them to the sides of the cabin as he jumped onto the table. "My name is Sivana, and I will not be slandered in such a manner!" he angrily proclaimed.
Slade's expression didn't change at all, but his voice grew in volume. "You are Professor Thaddeus Killgrave on the company payroll, you are Professor Killgrave to them," pointing out a dirty window to the scientists outside, "and you are to remain so until you are told otherwise!"
Picking up the green goggles and tossing them back to Sivana, Slade's voice returned to its original halting tones. "We need to get back on schedule. We need to find where they buried Langley's work so the new LexCorp power plant can open. Langley's work on atomic fusion was suppressed after the Atomic Blast, and the only remnants of his work are buried somewhere beneath this city. If we find it, LexCorp will have an unsurmountable monopoly of cheap, clean, efficient energy that would establish a beachhead for LexCorp in Fawcett."
Removing the newspaper from beneath his arm, he opened it to the article on Batson's real estate killings and faced it to Sivana. Giving it a brief glance, Sivana then snatched the paper away to give it a better look, his eyes quickly flashing over the lines of type. Glancing back at Slade, he curtly said, "I didn't return to Earth just to make money for Luthor."
Slade's returned expression was equally snide. "But it's the reason you're here, now. And thanks to your jackdaw meanderings in this... this..." Oh, to heck with his feelings, "mole machine of yours, we've instead forced more and more ownership of this city into the hands of a potential rival. This needs to end... now."
With a sense of finality, Slade headed for the exit, looking over his shoulder as Sivana returned the wig and goggles to his head. With only a mild smirk, he continued. "Find the ‘tomb' today, Professor. LexCorp has survived worse scandals then finding a wanted man had infiltrated its R&D division."
As Slade stalked down the stairs, Sivana removed the wig and looked out the windows. Seeing a large shape, obviously Slade's, head back up to the surface, a toothy grin broke out across Sivana's face. He'd dealt with men like Slade before since finding himself working for Luthor. Smooth operating yuppies looking to make good with the boss, "assistants" sent to spy on him, and now another of Luthor's private secret service sent in the hopes that a threatening physical presence would keep him in line. Slade seemed more direct and level-headed than those before but, looking back to his table full of maps, soon he would be the last Sivana would have to deal with ever again.
Holding up one such map, hidden beneath the others, with a large X drawn onto it, Sivana's body began to convulse with barely suppressed glee. "It's not a mole machine, Mr. Slade," he quietly said to himself. "It's a bulldozer. An atomic bulldozer," before sliding into a series of nasal laughs.
* * *
The school day had ended, and many students had signed up for the WHIZ radio contest, as it had come to be known. Billy too had signed up after lunch, during which he stopped to peruse one of the newspapers he still had to sell, and found indeed that the Morning Herald would soon be announcing new ownership. There was every possibility it could be Amalgamated Broadcasting, but Billy wanted a parachute in case it was his uncle again. A part time job on radio would more than make up for quitting his paper route, but what could he possibly do a report on? Modern day child psychology and dream analysis? he half-happily thought to himself, then frowned. "Child psychology"? "Dream analysis"? Where did that come fr... ?
"Hey there, kid," Freddy Freeman said pleasantly, as he leisurely strode along side the freshman. "Saw you at the sign-up sheet for the news report contest. So what are you planning to write on?"
"I really don't know, Freddy. Fact is, I just signed up because I might be losing my newspaper job soon." Trying to think of what he could do, he started thinking back to some of the submitted ideas he'd seen written next to the names. "Seems like all the good ideas were taken... Cissie Summerly's looking into the planning of the next World's Fair the city will be hosting, and somebody named Dexter wrote in on the construction of the general hospital's new radiology lab."
Looking at the older student, Billy caught a "yeah, but what do you want to do?" look, and finally decided to be honest. "The other day, after the school was evacuated, I got it into my head to investigate the cause of all the earthquakes we've been having," he said with a self-deprecating smile. Noting the older boy's amazed expression, he added, "It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time."
The amazed look receding from his face, a playful smirk came across Freddy's face as he shook his head. "Sounds gutsy, kid, but there's no way that could ever happen. The earthquakes have just shook up everything they touched and flattened just a few others. They haven't busted open any holes in the ground that you can go spelunking down in." Seeing the agreeing shrug from Billy, Freddy then smiled and gave himself a mental pat on the back for giving good advice.
He then looked at his watch and, seeing the time, started to run off. "See ya, Billy. I gotta hook up with my grandpa. See ya tomorrow, whiz kid!"
A little while later, Billy found himself outside the Amalgamated Broadcasting, looking up to the Skyway tracks far above and debating with himself. He'd earned enough to take a trip around the city, and hopefully the view would give him some inspiration. Whether for the school project or not, doing... something to find out why the earthquakes happened seemed right. And unless he decided to drop that for a story on millennia-old wizards living underground, he didn't have much to contribute to the contest.
Unnoticed behind him, Sterling Morris stepped out of the lobby of the building, having earlier called for his car to be brought out to meet with Bruce Wayne for a quick business lunch. Going down the steps to the sidewalk, he took notice of the boy in the red sweater, carrying copies of the Herald. Remembering the red dot of a man he'd seen down on the street a few days ago, he started to walk over to get a closer look at the boy. From a distance, he reminded him of someone.
And that's when the ground started rumbling...
* * *
With the Skyway system, the tracks were supported far above the pedestrians and traffic by huge stone pillars, shaped like inverted L's. The Skyway trains themselves hung from the tracks, moving along via electromagnetism. When entering a station, the train was stabilized by a long cylindrical extension jutting out from beneath the head car, which aside from containing its larger headlight also slid almost seamlessly into a groove in front of the station. And it was certainly heads and tails above Metropolis' standard subway system to Clark Kent's thinking.
The night before had been a bust -- no signs of Luthor's thugs sneaking dynamite into the city's abandoned subway systems, and the few buildings that had collapsed due to stress from the tremors all seemed to have been ready to fall apart by themselves. Kent hoped Batman had had greater success with his investigation into the Batson family. He'd taken the Skyway to get his mind off his lack of progress as much as to take him over to the WHIZ radio building, idea submissions and news articles by the city's youth already flooding in.
Looking out the windows, he saw that Fawcett City indeed seemed to have stepped off from the covers of "Mystery in Space" even more than Metropolis did. Taking his eyes off the view, he then took stock of his fellow passengers in the car. In front of him, hanging onto a pole and reading an opened newspaper, was a rather well-dressed man, resembling a more jovial variation of W.C. Fields, bald but for some white hair along the sides and, beneath his hat, some poofy wisps off the top of his head. Seated in a bench perpendicular to the doors were a small pack of girls, evidently from a rather ritzy private school judging from their uniforms. The leader of the gang seemed to be a small auburn-haired girl, who reminded him somewhat of a very young Judy Garland. Have I stepped into the world's center for celebrity impersonators? Kent wryly wondered.
The train was coming nearer and nearer to the WHIZ building when the car began to vibrate. Nervous looks had already broken out when a loud bang rang out just as the car suddenly tilted to the side. With a rather goofy cry of alarm, the fat fellow in front of him tumbled into Kent, causing him to jump back, cracking the window behind him lest his fellow traveler be bruised against his invulnerable body. Now up close to the window, Kent could see that the pillar currently carrying their car was tilting, breaking off their area of the track away from the rest.
The car was now tilted at a big slant, with the broken track bringing the electromagnetic current that moved the train and fed its systems sporadically. As the lights on board started to flicker, Kent's hearing picked up a sudden burst of activity in the car's gears. Before he could say anything, the car doors suddenly slid wide open and, having braced herself against them to help push her friends back up from the wall, the auburn-haired girl began to slide right out through them. Attempting to lift his fellow traveler off of himself to grab her in time, Kent misjudged his strength against the window, breaking it wide open and sending him and the other man flying out towards the ground.
With only a few moments between themselves and the ground, he had only one option. I always feared this might happen. Spending a pico-second to pray that his friends and family wouldn't suffer from this revelation, Kent began to summon whatever mysterious forces within his body which turned off gravity for him.
Then lightning struck...
* * *
Like everyone around him, Billy had stood his ground as best he could, waiting for the tremors to subside. That's when he saw one of the Skyway's pillars tilt, the ground around it breaking up into huge cracks and throwing up mounds of dust as it came to a semi-rest. The tremors seemed to move down the street away from the pillar, leaving the train frozen and one of its cars caught with its passengers on the unstable construct.
Billy only saw the large, rather overweight older man come up to his side out of the corner of his eye as he watched lampposts and windows shatter as the tremors moved down the street. He was beginning to see where they seemed to be headed straight for an office building a block away when the gathering crowd began to scream. He immediately jerked his head back to the broken Skyway track and saw it...
The doors had slid open and a young girl was dangling from the sides. The man next to him began to yell something, "Oh no, she'll be kil--", when one of the windows shattered and two men fell through, just as the girl's grip failed her. For a moment, they all seemed frozen in the air, and in that moment, any hesitation or doubt fled Billy's mind.
"SHAZAM!"
Looking up at the unfolding tragedy, Morris heard someone next to him say something, something odd. Later, he would ask himself why something as innocuous as that would tear his attention away at a time like that, but at that moment he began to turn his head to see who and what had been said. Thus, he saw just a bare hint what seemed like a flash of lightning exploding right next him before he was thrown back. Immediately sitting back up, he shook his head and, the stars disappearing from his vision, joined in the crowd's surprise as a red-suited man in a white cape flew up towards the train.
Morris wouldn't be alone in asking questions on why he did things that he did that day. Until that moment, Captain Marvel had no idea that he could fly, but he did, snatching the girl out of midair by her waist, then doing a sharp U-turn in the air as he flew back and grabbed the two men by the collars of their coats. Going up to the train, he helped them back through the doors, and found himself giving a mutual look of surprise as he recognized one of the men as Clark Kent from the other day.
Grabbing the sides of the doors, he gave the passengers a quick glance to see if anyone else needed help. Seeing that no one did, his grip on the sides strengthened. "Everyone please return to your seats, as we are about to land," he said in a commanding, albeit cheerful, tone, as he gave them all a tooth-filled, confidence-building grin. As the girl rejoined her friends and Mr. Kent helped the other man find a seat, the Captain then pulled on the doors, mildly deforming the inner sides as he pulled them shut.
Hearing what sounded like a loud gunshot below him, the Captain looked down to see that the cracks around the base of the pillar were spreading and growing larger. As the pillar suddenly shook with a jolt, his already resonant tones grew in volume as he faced the crowds below. "Everyone get back! The pillar's unstable and may fall over! Get as far away as possible!" Obediently, the frightened passer-bys quickly moved in every direction they could away, though a few took refuge beneath nearby doorways to see the end of the story.
Satisfied, the Captain returned his attention to the problem at hand. Without even really thinking about it, he saw that the Skyway cars were still connected, so tearing the stranded one off might also tear the others off as well. Also, he couldn't ignore the pillar or it might cause untold damage if it was allowed to collapse. In a heartbeat, the Captain had a makeshift plan in mind.
Flying up the arm of the pillar, he ripped it loose and, carrying it as he flew, he realigned it with the tracks, still connected to the stable pillars. With one arm holding the track up, he then used his other hand and grabbed the back of the car. Shoving it forward, he caused the train to move forward, carrying along the next car, which he'd then shoved forward too. When he finally had the line of cars off the broken track, he then dropped it, and turned his attention to the pillar.
Flying to the top of the pillar, he began to push down on it before its tilt could get worse, shoving it down and through the pavement. By the time he stopped, the pillar was now a third of the way into the ground below, the earth around it now safely keeping it up. Returning to the back of the train, the Captain then pushed it the rest of the way into WHIZ radio's Skyway station. That's when he heard the building down the street begin to fall apart...
* * *
The atomic bulldozer had run into some stiffer than usual resistance a few minutes ago. The earth had been compacted by the combined weight of the Skyway pillar and its foundation, making it extra-dense to burrow through. But Sivana had built it to last, and in the end they'd torn through it like wallpaper. Now they were at their destination.
Though the cabin of the bulldozer shook violently, the vibrations of the drill working its way through the length of the machine, everyone held their positions. "Killgrave's" position was behind Spider, backseat driving as his longtime henchman directed the bulldozer. He held a set of old zoning maps in his hands, but they weren't his only instrument.
"Professor!" one of his assistants called out from an instrument panel. As "Killgrave" turned to him, the young scientist pointed to a small gauge, its little arrow steadily turning right into a red-colored zone. "Our ‘Geiger' systems are showing massive readings in the vicinity, sir. And it's not our ‘exhaust'. It's right up ahead!"
"Killgrave" threw back his head as a victorious laugh brayed out. "At last! The abandoned aqueducts," he said while tapping the ragged old paper. "The last place available, and easily retrofitted with lead shielding!" He returned his attention to Spider at the wheel. "Full steam ahead!"
The dwarf's head turned to his master with a confused look in his already curious eyes. "No steam, Master. Bulldozer run on chunk of --"
"Killgrave" whopped him across the head with the suddenly rolled up paper. "I know what we run on! Just hurry it up! Power and victory lie straight ahead! Hurry! For power... and victory!" Then, almost as a whisper, "And freedom."
The bulldozer then suddenly came up to burst through a series of cement walls, "Killgrave" screaming for the brakes as the bulldozer sent shakes throughout the building above. The office building. Ebenezer Batson's office building.
"Heh heh heh," he chuckled as the hatchway opened and its steps folded out. Wearing an oxygen mask as plumes of dust and dirt filled the air around him, he switched on a powerful flashlight as he looked around. Also wearing oxygen masks, some of his assistants followed him out. Gesticulating at a set of large metal doors, "Killgrave" had them working on it with blowtorches in minutes.
Also within a few minutes was the arrival of Slade. A smaller version of the bulldozer, jokingly called a "gopher go-cart" by all but Slade, the machine he arrived in had been used sparingly to follow up on areas the bulldozer had previously been to, its smaller, less powerful drill making its way through the soil loosened previously by the bulldozer. Now it was being used to catch up on "Killgrave's" latest unscheduled excavation.
By now the dust and dirt had settled, and the air was only mildly unpleasant, musty in the extreme, to breathe. Looking around, Slade saw "Killgrave" as he and his team stepped out from a large entrance, its large metals doors, their locks having been melted away, pulled open on each side. The assistants all had looks of shock upon their faces, but "Killgrave's" was one of unbounded glee. That'll end soon.
"Killgrave!" Slade bellowed as he stamped up to the half-pint scientist. "I conveyed specific instructions from Luthor himself. You were to clear all excavations with me, and I was to oversee them! This is the last straw..." He then noticed that "Killgrave" was not affected by his tirade in the least.
"I found it," he half-whispered, a quite mad grin across his face, as a bony finger pointed through the doors. "I've found the resting place of Charles Langley's masterpiece." With rare nervousness, Slade walked towards them and into the vast room inside. "Killgrave's" voice continued behind him.
Inside, the room was eerily lit by a sole lamp left behind by one of "Killgrave's" staff. The first thing he saw was a vast metal table, rusty but obviously still strong, as it still stood with its great weight all these years. The great weight being a giant, dust-covered semi-humanoid form, which would have been about fifteen feet long but for one thing... its head was missing.
Noticing a few wires and cables extending from the neck area off into the distance, Slade turned on a flashlight he'd brought along and directed its beam off into the distance to a smaller table, a counter really, by a wall, where the wires were connected to a large, bullet-shaped form covered by a once-white sheet.
Walking over to the counter, Slade whipped off the sheet, uncovering the metal form's head, adorned solely with a short series of yellow bands at the top of its point, and further down the single red camera lens and the dust cap-covered speaker that served as its sole eye and mouth.
In the distance behind him, "Killgrave's" voice continued. "The tomb... of Mister Atom!" And at that moment, though it may just have been the light from Slade's flashlight, the red lens began to glow...
* * *
Uncle Ebenezer had never come across as the rational type, as Billy remembered, particularly regarding something he felt belonged to him. Unfortunately, he'd not improved with his bank account's growth spurts. Even when the roof was threatening to fall in on him and someone was trying to rescue him. "Let go of me, you big oaf! It's my building and I'll do what I want with it!" he'd shrieked at the broad-shouldered hero.
"Your building's going to do something to you if we don't get out of here!" Captain Marvel yelled one more time as he grabbed Ebenezer by his collar, pulling him back, and tossed the objecting man over his shoulder. As he turned back towards the exit out to the hallway, hoping to get to the stairs in time, he saw Ebenezer's secretary, a very pretty blonde, as she pointed, dumbfounded, at the entrance, now closed off by fallen beams.
Having gotten the Skyway passengers to safety, Marvel had finally turned his attention to the building struck by the earthquake. As if it were heading towards it, he'd thought at the back of his mind as he'd flown towards it. Having sold newspapers as Billy, he'd read enough about the earthquakes to know that, but for a handful of exceptions such as his school the other day, they'd always occurred in run-down areas with mostly abandoned or dilapidated buildings. For one to have struck a modern-day high-rise was a surprise to say the very least.
An even greater surprise was that it was serving as corporate headquarters for his Uncle Ebenezer's new empire. Flying through a shattered window to rescue any stragglers still trying to get out, he carefully and quickly as possible picked up and flew out anyone injured, knocked unconscious, or otherwise unable to help themselves to the gathering EMS personnel outside. The last two people he'd found, one of them the absolute last man he'd ever hoped to bump into, was his uncle and his secretary, desperately trying to haul her babbling employer out of their offices.
"Ma'am?!" No response. The Captain then repeated himself as he tapped her on the shoulder, finally drawing her attention away from the blocked exit. "Don't worry -- I can carry you," he confidently said as he discreetly gathered her under his free arm, blushing slightly as she then wrapped her arms around his neck to keep her balance. With Ebenezer still impotently beating his fists against his back, demanding to be let go, he then flew out the window and landed halfway down the street as available paramedics ran up to him.
Gladly releasing Ebenezer, Captain Marvel then gingerly helped to pry the young lady's arms off as, still slightly in shock, she was walked away by another paramedic as a blanket was thrown over her. Her quite evident state of vulnerability, however, was totally lost on one person.
"You -- are -- fired, Jameson!" Ebenezer's squeal drew the attention of most everyone within earshot, giving him disbelieving looks as he vented his fury on her, their samaritans in capes or stethoscopes, and anyone else he could think to blame. "I still had business to take care of in there, and it was not your decision to make on when I left! It's my name on company logo, not yours!"
Jabbing a bony finger at the Captain, he started sputtering, "And who are you to go sticking your nose in other people's business, you -- you --" Words failing to come up with a decent dirty name to toss at him, Ebenezer thought up another way to get back at this strangely attired intruder. "Exactly who did give you the authority, huh? I bet you don't have any! I don't see any badge on you! HA! That's it!" Barking orders like a drill sergeant, he proceeded to yell at a nearby patrolman, "Officer, arrest this man for interfering in an emergency situation, and attempted kidnaping."
This entire time, the Captain had been biting his tongue and, other than bunching up his eyebrows to express his anger, had been looking down his nose at the decrepit miser, as miserable a man as he ever was. Now, wondering if Ebenezer could get his wish, he looked back at the officer. Making eye contact, the officer then gestured with his eyes to a nearby paramedic, now flicking the end of a hypodermic needle behind Ebenezer. The officer then walked over, mouthing platitudes to keep the old man distracted. As he returned his gaze to his uncle, the Captain was in time to hear him snarl out, "What are you smiling at, you big red do-gooder?" The next thing out of his mouth was a slight yelp, followed by a glazed look in his eyes and a goofy smile as the paramedic withdrew his hand, syringe in it, from behind Ebenezer's backside.
Catching the old man as he fell back, the officer exchanged a knowing smile with Captain Marvel. The smile running away from his face, the Captain then looked back to the ruined Skyway pillar. These earthquakes certainly can't be natural, he now thought. I'll bet something underground's making them, and I'm going to find out, now! Leaping off into the air, he flew towards the center of the earthquake as the officer waved at him from the ground.
"Up and at ‘em, Cap!" Officer Bellows called after him.
* * *
Slade was troubled, which was an unfamiliar feeling and he didn't like having it. As a distant rumble came from above and more dust and small pebbles fell from the ceiling, he glared at "Killgrave"'s technicians in a desperate attempt to make them hurry their work. As it was, they were already working with rather unprofessional haste, making sure the giant body was safely strapped onto a wheeled transport, not unlike a giant gurney, itself checked thoroughly to make sure it was safely bound to the back of the mole machine.
A creepy chuckle, the same one that he had been having to put up with almost constantly since he'd arrived, started up again behind him. Spider and one of the thugs he'd hired were carrying together the robot's head as "Killgrave" followed behind, his eyes never deviating from the bullet-like object. As the two henchmen huffed and puffed their way back inside the mole machine, "Killgrave"'s constant "Heh, heh, heh" followed them as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. At least until Slade grabbed ahold of his shoulder.
"The roof may fall on us and here we are dithering with the whole robot. Why can you not simply remove the fusion generator from it? Why must we haul this entire contraption with us?" he intoned as he whirled "Killgrave" around, his wig almost coming off in the process. His expression serious, "Killgrave" waved his arm at the body on the transport as he barked back, "Because I need to familiarize myself with Langley's work before I can set about removing it. We don't know how Langley wired it into that metal monstrosity and just tearing it out higgledy-piggledy might cause it to go into meltdown, which will end your precious power plant project real quick!" Turning away from Slade, he mumbled that they shouldn't have even cut those last wires connecting the head to the body, more to himself that anyone.
Grinding his teeth, Slade was all set to simply sneer at "Killgrave" as long as he got on with the work when his walkie-talkie went off. Unclipping it from his belt, he merely blurted "What?" into it as one of the employees in the drilling co-op, wise to the real reasons for LexCorp activity in Fawcett City, gave a hurried explanation for the call. His eyes going wide, Slade ran up the stairs as he called out to "Killgrave."
Catching him as an assistant was giving him an update on the securing of the body to the mole machine, Slade blurted out a hurried explanation. "My man back at the office says some caped SPB is on the scene up on the surface. He's already dealt with the damage caused by our arrival and to the office building they built above the aqueduct." Mr. Luthor had his elite agents go through a specifically designed orientation process for protocols concerning superhuman interference, and while this figure may not have X-ray vision or super-hearing to find them out, his training still demanded that he treat this intruder as such.
To his surprise, "Killgrave"'s expression only conveyed mild interest. Hitting a switch by a monitor screen, it shifted from showing engine status and the like to show a breaking newsflash from a local news station. On it showed a figure in a bright red uniform and short white cape flying people out an office building to paramedics, only to have one of them, an old man, screaming at him for dragging him outside apparently.
Studying the picture, "Killgrave" only snorted in mild contempt. "I've dealt with these musclebound mystery-men before, Slade," he spat as he switched the monitor back to a dashboard-like read-out. "I doubt this caped do-Gouda will be much of a challenge." Chuckling at his little pun, he went on to say, "And if this one is anything like Luthor's extraterrestrial target," he chuckled, "then I have something very special waiting for him."
Giving the briefest of glances to make sure everyone was back inside, he then jumped into the driver's seat and started up the mole machine, its giant drill starting up as it burrowed back the way it came. Next to Slade sat Spider and the thug that "Killgrave" had brought with them. Nudging the bowler-topped goon, Spider asked, "What is Gouda?" As Slade rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth again, the thug thought and answered, "A big red cheese." It was then Slade realized they weren't using the long route he'd used to avoid the buried Skyway prop, they were heading straight for it!
He screamed "Look out!" even as the mole machine's drill hit the bottom half of the pylon at full speed...
* * *
On the surface, Captain Marvel had made a brief circle around the local area, checking the Skyway and making certain that no further trains would be heading towards the area of damaged tracks. He had returned back to the disaster area to check on things when he heard cries below him again. Flying in close near the Skyway, he saw where the half-buried pillar was shaking violently.
Suddenly, a cobweb of cracks appeared on the street adjacent to it, then chunks of concrete started popping into the air as it collapsed forming a gaping hole in the street. Thankful that everyone had stayed away in case the Skyway pillar still toppled over, Captain Marvel flew down to the ground. Standing at the edge, which stretched across three lanes, he looked down into the hole. Though not blessed with any superhuman senses, his eyes were still keen enough to look down into the gloom and saw the hole went past the street, past the sewer lines, and down into...
"A cave?" he asked himself, at first wondering if the mysterious subway train from the other night was somehow to blame. Although hearing a feint mechanical sound from the darkness below him, the Captain shook his head as the brief suspicion died. Leaping up into the air, he stopped a height of three stories up before, inverting himself, swan-dived into the blackness.
As the hole engulfed the new hero, arriving policemen surrounded the hole, attempting to put up police tape and the like even as intrigued passers-by surrounded it, among them a curious but equally halted Clark Kent. Looking around, he then shouldered back past the crowd, removing his glasses and pulling at his shirt buttons as he looked for a darkened alley or an out of the way visophone kiosk...
Below the street, Captain Marvel had come to a pile of loose dirt at the bottom of the hole and, swiftly digging his way through, found himself in a large makeshift tunnel dug beneath the streets. "You better have the proper work permits," he curtly said to no one in particular as he flew in the direction of distant sounds.
Already a few miles away, Slade had long caught his breath and now trying to muster some rage to vent as he yelled at "Killgrave." The mole machine had merely clipped the side of buried Skyway pillar, causing the prop to tip slightly and, as he saw on the machine's rearview monitor, act as a giant crowbar, breaking loose the roof of the tunnel and opening a hole up to the surface. "You maniacal pipsqueak," he bellowed to the oblivious gnome, "You've practically blown this operation wide open, literally!"
Pointing at the rearview monitor without looking at it, the vision of light from the surface pouring in even as loosened dirt had begun to block off the tunnel still vivid enough in his mind, he continued. "Any fool with a flashlight can see that there's a tunnel being burrowed under the city now. The authorities will stop thinking it's all nature gone wild and have geologists burning up their seismographs tracking us down!" Unknown to him, Spider had taken Slade's gesticulation as an order to look at the monitor, and soon began waving his hands to get his master's attention.
Hopping up from the driver's seat, causing many technicians to jump up and grab the wheel as the mole machine lurched from side to side, "Killgrave" wheeled on Slade. "So -- what?!" he cried. "We've found the Atom robot and soon Langley's lost secrets on self-sustaining atomic reactions will belong to me -- us!" Faking a cough to cover his slip, "Killgrave" began his tirade again. "Besides, you said yourself some caped clown is up top, and believe me they always find who is causing what sooner or later. It's just a matter of making sure we're not caught, which reminds me..."
"Killgrave" began to shuffle over to another console when he finally took note of Spider, now hopping up and down and waving his arms. After a brief pause, the scientist crossly asked, "What?" of his long time henchman.
"Big red cheese coming!" he excitedly blurted out, then pointed at the rearview monitor as "Killgrave" and Slade continued to give him questioning looks. Following Spider's gesture, they both saw the red-suited figure almost upon them. Leaping to the console, "Killgrave" began pushing at a series of buttons as a map of the mole machine's path appeared on its monitor, chuckling all the way.
"Our time spent on the shock jock girl was well spent," he explained in a semi-lectural tone. "Standard high voltage would of course be somewhat painful for Superman, but Live Wire could generate electrical bolts which oscillated on various frequencies nearly at once. Thus, during her run-ins with him, she unintentionally hit him with electromagnetic frequencies that scrambled his cells' ability to process solar energy, either halting it and leaving him momentarily vulnerable to electrocution, or causing the solar radiation he'd absorb to turn against him and potentially barbecue him from within."
As the flying figure drew ever closer, "Killgrave" hovered over a button, like an experienced video gamer waiting for the proper time to strike. "And these ‘chain lightning' mines should do just about the same! Heh, heh, he--!" he began to chuckle when Slade's hand flashed out, stabbing at the button before him.
Immediately, a trio of meter-wide circular devices blasted out from the top and sides of the mole machine, latching onto the tunnel walls even as the machine sped on. Intent upon catching up with the mole machine, Captain Marvel barely caught the glint of the machine's spotlights reflecting off their metal casings and, in the gloom, only saw them until he was practically between the three of them. Exploding, the mines fired a three-way arc of electricity between them, spreading out over the width and height of the tunnel. It caught the Captain as he flew past and, even as the electrical discharge spent itself, the momentum of his flight carried him along a few more feet down the tunnel... and Billy Batson crashed to the ground
Tumbling a short distance, Billy came to a skidding halt on his face. Picking himself off the floor, Billy spat out dirt as he prodded himself to make sure nothing was broken. Bruised and bloody, sure, but not broken. "Those things," he painfully said, his lips feeling as if he'd fought a round or twenty with "Bull" Bronsky, "they turned me ba-- bac--" as his sentence dissolved into a massive coughing fit as he choked on the filthy dusty air. He then took note that the tunnel wasn't supported properly, seeing pebbles and dust continuously fall from the roof. Barely able to breathe as it was, he decided to head back to the surface, hoping that the loose soil had given the hole enough slant for him to climb up. Looking back at the path of the departed mole machine, he shamefully turned and hobbled back down the tunnel...
* * *
Taking up a swiveling stool at the counter, Sterling Morris turned and glanced out of the window of the WHIZ building's pharmacy/cafeteria at the circus that the Skyway collapse had caused. Massive throngs of people surrounded the site as police, fireman, and medics did what they could, some just rubbernecking as they passed through, others staying and watching the drama. The realization that to some of them getting seen in the background on the nightly news was more important than the fact that a train's worth of their fellow men were nearly killed sent a chill through his spine.
Turning in his seat back to the counter, he exchanged a knowing look with the pharmacy's proprietor, "Doc" Quartz, before returning to his chocolate malted, a non-addictive vice for calming his nerves he'd possessed since a boy. Still, as he absent-mindedly sucked on the straw, he was barely aware that he'd been drinking anything until the telltale air-slurping sound alerted him that he'd hit the bottom. Thus jarred from his introspection, he looked down on the metal of the counter and saw his visiting friend's reflection even before he could speak.
"Hard day?" Bruce Wayne mildly quipped as he took the seat next to Morris and swiveled to face the window. After a noncommittal grunt from Morris, Wayne continued his questioning. "They say things would have been worse without Superman popping up in time."
Shaking his head, Morris faced him. "You're right about the popping up at least," he said as he shook his head mildly to recall events. "Different costume entirely, but I could swear our flying friend appeared out of no where right next to me then took off. Rescued the Skyway and got everyone out of that office building that was shook up so bad."
As nonchalantly as possible, Wayne then steered the conversation towards the events at the office building. "From what I saw on TV, Ebenezer Batson didn't think it was worth all of the fuss," letting the sentence fade off for Morris to fill in the blanks. He was not disappointed.
"Probably in the middle of using a big insider trading tip, for all I know. Funny, that is funny-strange," he clarified. "From what I'm told, he barely visits there even when bringing in people he actually intends to have as partners. He must have had some very big business for him to go all the way out there."
Analyzing Morris' description of Ebenezer's work habits, Wayne thought of his own disappointing visit to the offices of Batson Investments the night before. With papers left strewn on his desk, Ebenezer had left things wide open for anyone looking into his past. Quite literally in fact, as the wall safe he'd found behind a cheap copy of Edvard Munch's "The Scream" hadn't even been locked. Batman had found no evidence other than that of a man using catastrophe to buy his own home town lock, stock, and barrel, but perhaps there was something there that could be used against Ebenezer after all if he was so desperate to risk his own roof caving in on him to stay there...
His train of thought was interrupted by a police officer running into the pharmacy. Huffing and puffing, as he'd just come down the stairs from having checked Morris' office before being advised of visiting "Doc" Quartz's cafeteria, it took Officer Bellows a few minutes before he could speak clearly to anyone.
"Commissioner... *huff*... Barr... *puff*... is outside... asking for... your help, Mr. Morris... *GASP*" he choked out before collapsing in a near faint.
Looking to Wayne, both in surprise and silent requesting him to join, Sterling Morris waved to Quartz on his way to the lobby. Stepping out, he tried to peer over the heads of the crowd and saw the probable cause for Barr's call for him -- WHIZ's foremost news reporters, for better or worse, Delroy Amberson and Barbara Grand. From a distance, Amberson resembled a giant bonbon that had sprouted a head and limbs, then put on some clothes and glasses, and being up close to him hardly changed that. Barbara, meanwhile, looked like a runner-up at a Betty Page look-alike contest... from twenty years ago. Time and barely bottled-up rage had hardly improved her features.
Sterling Morris had few problems with Delroy Amberson. He was usually cheerful and well-liked, though only because he acted like everyone's best friend at the office, which often annoyed but you got used to it. His propensity for butter fingeredness and clumsiness were accidental and, thankfully, few and far between. He was enthusiastic about his work and fairly decent a news reporter, but that led to his single great failing -- his ambition. It was hardly a secret that Amberson had his eyes on becoming the next Walter Cronkite, and being a radio reporter was just another step before that national news TV spot. Unfortunately for him, he was aware of his appearance but was unable to stick to the most simplistic of diets. Thus, he constantly kidded himself that he'd be ready for that big network interview soon as he continuously barged in on everyone's business with a smile and always unasked for advice.
Barbara, however, was a different matter altogether. Her ambition was no secret whatsoever; unfortunately there was practically no top to the ladder she'd set about climbing. Her main goal in life wasn't just to be on top, it seemed, but also that everyone else be on the bottom. She ached to gain authority over other people, whom she never failed to blame for any misfortune or lack of success on her part, and finally get back at them. The truth was she had no great love for the microphone, it was just another tool (or a bludgeon) for her to get up the ziggurat, and it showed in her work. She had at one point gotten lucky and delivered a terrific scoop that gave her 15 minutes of fame, and adamantly refused to accept she was a flash-in-the-pan. Since then, the main cause for her fame as radio reporter was the innumerable inane on-air accidents she wound up either causing or diving head first into, but of course it was anyone's fault but hers, a solid belief she sounded frequently. Frankly, she was as manipulative, self-righteous, cowardly, presumptuous, jealous, abusive, and spiteful a person as he'd ever known, and it was only his long standing personal rule never to fire anyone that kept her on the payroll. Still, how she'd ever wound up reporting for him in the first place was something he'd long forgotten and couldn't remember.
Morris then realized she shouldn't be reporting even now, her latest on the air fiasco having lost WHIZ many sponsors, resulting in him giving her a severe oral reprimand and placing her on suspension from broadcasting. It obviously in no way had taken, as here she was dueling with Delroy's report on the Skyway disaster and a mysterious super-hero's appearance. Dueling is right, he thought, as Barbara's incessant pauses in her report to browbeat Delroy for horning in on her story had devolved into a public brawl. As officers moved in to tear them apart, Morris reflected about such incidents resulting in the school contest...
The truth was, between Barbara's callous reporting and Delroy's day dreams of greener pastures, ratings had been slipping. To keep up, Morris had been advised to add a cute, telegenic (well, radiogenic) kid reporter part time, mostly for the family crowd. Thus, the contest had resulted for best news report to find just such a child journalist. With those two, however, he thought, I may have to get a tutor and hire the kid to go full-time!
As Barbara was dragged away kicking and screaming, mostly into her now banged-up microphone, Morris found his reflection on the contest to seemingly become somewhat prescient... Judge Clark Kent had finally arrived.
After exchanging a glance with Wayne, Kent turned to Morris. "Welcome to my world, Mr. Morris," he said ominously as he gestured to the Skyway pillar.
Reminded of some of Metropolis' frequent disasters, many owed to faulty LexCorp construction some argued, Morris' face fell at the thought that the earthquakes were just the beginning of similar continuing instances in Fawcett. "Things like this aren't supposed to happen here... not nowadays."
Edging their way closer to the cordoned off hole, Morris seeking to direct Delroy's broadcast a little, Kent and Wayne stayed slightly further behind to talk privately.
"I would have thought this would bring you out for sure."
"Remembering you were in town reminded me that I wanted to play it inconspicuous until I found something concrete, and there's no way I'd not be seen flying down into that hole now. I'll just have to try for it tonight." Remembering with slight humiliation that he'd been among those rescued by the lightning bolt-decorated stranger, he added, "Besides, it turned out my presence would have been, well..."
"Superfluous?"
Taking that as a sign to shift gears, Kent then asked for Batman's progress. "Slim to none. I was going to visit the Batson family mansion after none of his city offices yielded anything. But from what I've learned, he practically avoids all of his offices, but today," he said as he pointed at the abandoned office building, also now cordoned off with police tape, "he was desperate to stay in there even when it looked to fall apart. He wanted something there, and he might try to sneak in tonight. I'll be waiting..." he ended sinisterly.
It was then that a gasp from the assembled crowd returned their attention to the hole in the street, as a young boy in a filthy red sweater and jeans crawled his way over the edge and collapsed on the pavement. As police kept the crowds back, paramedics rushed over the young boy and carefully gathered him onto a gurney. The policemen began to make a path through the crowds as the paramedics begin to push the boy over to a waiting ambulance, only to be halted as the boy, still conscious, began waving in their direction. "Mr. Kent! Mr. Kent!" he choked out repeatedly.
Running ahead of Morris and Wayne, Kent got to him first, and recognized him as the boy "Billy" from his first day at the school. "What happened, Billy? Did you fall into the hole?' He didn't remember seeing anyone standing were the hole formed, or anyone getting too close to fall in, but he must have fallen down it somehow.
Waving away his questions, Billy coughed as he tried to focus his thoughts. "A giant… machine… tunneling underground. *KAFF* That's what's… causing the earthquakes!" Oblivious to Kent's shocked and somewhat disbelieving face, he tried to think of a description and remembered something hanging off the back of it. A giant trailer? No, it was a cart, with something on it. He'd just barely seen it in the dark at all but, when those mine things flashed on, he'd seen it for a moment when they lit up the tunnel. It was humanoid, but gigantic and made of metal, and was headless on top of that. Now where would a giant robot with no head come fr--
"Mister Atom!" he exclaimed as the image of old news photos of the Atomic Blast popped into his mind. Clutching Kent's shirt, he blurted out, "They were looking for Mr. Atom, and they've found him!"
His eyes wildly blinking and looking back and forth between Clark Kent and two other men there, he didn't see a paramedic preparing a hypodermic. He began to start telling them to warn everyone when he winced and, his eyes half-closing in semiconsciousness, his head fell back on the gurney cushion as the paramedic withdrew the needle from his arm. "Mr. Atom... underground... tell everyone..." he quietly moaned as he was bustled into a waiting ambulance.
Watching it pull off, Morris couldn't help but shiver. "Mister Atom? Surely, the boy must have been hallucinating. That monster was destroyed fifty years ago by the Squadron of Justice," he said more to himself than to Kent. It was just as well... he was lost in his own thoughts.
"I was there when the ground opened up," Kent muttered to himself. "The only person who went in there was that new guy. Where did that kid come from?" He was about to wonder why the flying man hadn't found and brought Billy to the surface when Wayne grabbed ahold of his arm.
"That boy, Kent! What was his name? You called him Billy, right?" he looked through shocked eyes, a new feature on him Kent would have thought if his voice hadn't stayed so commanding.
"Yes. I helped him out with a school bully when I came into town and the principal called him ‘Billy'. Why?" As dawning realization came on its own to him, Wayne just looked away after the ambulance, absolute certainty in his voice. "William... William Batson..."
End Part 2
Captain Marvel created by C.C. Beck and Bill Parker
Batman created by Bob Kane
Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster
Captain Marvel, Batman, Superman, and all related characters trademark of DC Comics