JLA #4
Know Fear - Part Four
Come Undone
By
"Oracle to all Justice League - Watchtower personnel. Direct communications lines to the tower are down, so I'm re-routing this broadcast through the Titans' headquarters. Internal security has been compromised by the Key. J'onn is suspected to be out-of-commission, and I'm receiving garbled reports of kryptonite coming over Superman's comm-unity. Can anyone fill me in?"
He hears the words in slow groupings, his mind trying desperately to interpret the conversation even before he hears the remainder of the sentences. Impatiently, he awaits further word, because if what she says is true, it's all going to come down to seconds. Seconds to think. Seconds to act. Seconds to pray to whatever deity-of-the-day that everything bounces back from its current desperate levels. There is no room for doubt, no time to weigh the options. Only seconds.
Luckily, for Wally West, time is just a matter of perspective.
He is the Flash, the fastest man alive, and a man that prides himself on being to make snap judgements on his feet. His shifts into overdrive, whirling through a million possibilities in the time it would normally take a neural cascade to travel the length of the spine. Turning toward the Amazon princess, he says, "I have an idea."
She is sluggish, still winded from the rapid depressurization of one of the Watchtower's corridors, and he knows that this is going to be a long-shot, at best. Diana looks up at him, her black hair hanging down into her face, making her expression that much more aggressive in appearance. He can see the warrior-spirit reflecting in her eyes, and she replies, "Make it happen."
Static electricity collects in the air as Wally reach out to his connection to the Speed Force. "This is going to tingle again," he warns as he grabs onto Diana's shoulder and lends her a portion of his superspeed, adding to the speed of Hermes that has already been bestowed upon her. Shifting into high gear, he speed-talks, "Two options. One shot. Hold your breath. Fly fast. Grab Superman or rope Lantern. Fly back. Make it quick."
She is gone before he can confirm that she understands, a streak of color carrying her away. It is a gamble, he knows, and Wally can only hope that her body doesn't process her oxygen reserves too quickly. She only has a slight chance, time enough to grab Superman and return, or time to wrap the lasso of Hestia around Kyle and force him to see the truth about his delusions of inadequacy.
Within half a second, Diana is back, gasping for breath and cradling Superman in her arms. Lowering him to the ground and falling to her knees, she says, "No time to try and bring Lantern back. I am sorry."
"You did what you could, princess. Time enough to collect ourselves, let Superman get his strength back, and make another go at it. Just need to wait a second." Wally replies, wondering how they're going to bring Lantern back to his senses.
He clings to the shadows, using the black-on-black to his advantage as he slides along the expanse of the ruined corridors of Blackgate Prison. It is a tactic he has employed since his mission first began that night in Crime Alley, a night he remembers in still-frame clarity, moments etched forever in his mind. The bright lights of the theater marquis. His father's insistence on taking the short-cut through the alley. The glint of the moonlight along the barrel of the gun. The slow motion tumble of pearl's through the thick shadow. Two shots. The silent stillness of his parents on either side of him.
He blinkws back the imagery, forcing himself to concentrate on the details of the here-and-now instead of reliving the past. He knows his motivations, no longer needs to remind himself of his purpose. "Oracle, word on the Watchtower?"
Her voice is calm and collected, despite the great stress that he knows to be on her shoulders, but that is precisely the reason she was chosen the League. Sighing, she responds, "Lantern is still gung-ho but Flash and Wonder Woman have retrieved Superman. No word from Plastic Man or Aquaman. We're one step closer to where we started, but we're still knee-deep in the dirt."
"Keep everything up-to-date. When the League is intac, initiate the reprisal plan." Batman replies, silently dropping down through a caved-in ceiling and landing lithely on the floor below. He pauses for a moment, examining the scuff marks on the floor. Someone, two people have passed through here recently. One on foot and one dragged behind. It's consistent with the Key, he thinks remembering that their adversary is not known for his physical strength.
"Bruce, I don't think..."
"You'll be ready. Just keep studying the tapes, memorize." He interrupts, not willing to let her confidence levels slip. He knows that Barbara's stress-management and eidetic memory are important factors in this victory. This is a hard game, he's pulling out all the stops, using all of the JLA's strengths, and everything must be secure if they are to succeed.
"uh-uh....no way..." He says, twisting his steps as he walks backwards, tentatively putting some distance between himself and Aquaman. Morphing his structure into the vibrant shape of a whale. "Back-off, Captain Ahab. This fish ain't skillet material."
The anger is apparent on Arthur's face, and for a moment, Plastic Man questions whether or not this is the time for his humorous approach to things. Then he thinks about it once more, knowing that now is definitely a time to lighten up the mood. Needless to say, it's apparent that Aquaman doesn't agree, as the King of the Sea stalks toward him, the veins in his forearms risen with the flex of muscle. The voice is steady and menacing all at once as Aquaman says, "Mock me..."
Eel glances to the left, then to the right, seeking escape, or help, or whatever he can get to separate himself from Aquaman. Flash had left him here to keep Aquaman calm while his own anger wore down, but Plastic Man finds it painfully clear that he's failed in that mission. Altering his shape once again, he assumes the shape of a lithe woman, wearing a white polka-dotted dress and a kerchief tied around her head, "Please sir, you're frightening me..."
Aquaman doesn't respond in words, instead issuing forth a mighty backhand across Plastic Man's morphed face. Feigning pain as the impact shook him from his feet, Plastic Man falls to the ground, shrieking like little girl, and looking up at Aquaman as he morphs into his version of Daisy Duke, Plastic Man says, "Well, I'll be...we're not even on Springer...I swear Bubba-Joe-Billy-Ray, I didn't know it was your mama when I said I would have her love child. I love you. I can't sleep in this trailer alone!"
"Insufferable lout.." Aquaman begins, advancing upon Plastic Man once more.
"Now, now, let's not resort to name-calling..."
"...I have stood silent and endured your presence while your devilish antics have made a mockery of the Justice League and its members. I will be quiet no more. It is high time that you were taught a lesson in maturity." Orin finishes, firing the hook from his left hand.
Plastic Man moves quickly, on instinct, altering his shape and narrowly avoiding the harpoon. In his place, a red cardinal remains, saying, "Dear God, make be a bird, so I can fly far, far away from here."
Growling, Arthur prepares for another assault when his attention is drawn to the sudden rise of temperature in the room. He turns to his rear and finally notices Superman, peppering the air around Aquaman with micro-blasts of his heat vision, evaporating the moisture in the air. Gasping, Aquaman falls to his knees and pleads, "Help me, I need water..."
Superman sighs, folding his arms across his chest as he shuts down the heat vision, and turns toward Wonder Woman. "Diana, help Arthur down to the tanks in the sublevels. We'll work out some way to get the teleporters back online." He says, wishing there were an easier method than preying upon his teammate's weaknesses. Glancing toward Plastic Man, he adds, "Not now, Mr. O'Brien."
"What?" Plastic Man responds, a wide smile spread across his assumed form as a plastic kiddie pool.
He presses the button and sighs, silently telling himself to relax and take things slowly, allow them time to coalesce. It should be a simple task, but it's not anything that he can rush himself through. Not this time. "Kyle, it's Wally. I know that you can hear me because I'm broadcasting this across every encrypted frequency that the Justice League has access to. One way or another, you're going to hear this.
"First, I want to establish something. This isn't a conversation between the Flash and Green Lantern. We've been-there-done-that, and this isn't the time for another testosterone competition. There's more to life than what we call ourselves when we sling on the tights, and I think of anyone, you and I both know that the best. Nope, this one's just between Wally West and Kyle Rayner, man-to-man or something like that.
"Now that we have the ground rules laid, I want to remind you that you are not Hal Jordan. You'll never be Hal Jordan. Nobody expects, or even wants, you to be Hal Jordan. It's the same thing for Barry and me. You and I both have our legacies to bear, but we're out of their shadows. We are so much beyond proving ourselves worthy of our names. I mean, think about it, do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering if this hero or that hero thinks you're good enough, or is it sufficient that you know that you've got the right stuff?"
Wally exhales heavily, running his fingers through his golden hair and resting his head in his hands. He wishes it weren't so quiet, that he could have some confirmation that this is working, or not. He even wishes that he could channel the camaradie that Hal and Barry had shared, but Wally knows better. Starting softly, once again, he says, "Besides, at least you never had to live down being Kid Lantern."
"Maybe not, but those were some snappy threads," Kyle responds, surprising Wally as he steps up behind the speedster. Slowing sinking to his knees, he finishes, "But you never made a mess quite this bad, either. How am I going to make things right again?"
Resting a hand on Kyle's resigned shoulder, Wally replies, "One step at a time, Kyle. One step at a time."
"Yes, yes yes! See how the cookie crumbles into little itty-bitty bits. Every precious little trust you have built, I am not diminishing. I don't even have to break the Justice League apart, they are doing it all by themselves." The Key exclaims, relishing in his victory. "And I needn't have even worried about the Dark Knight and the parapalegic."
His laughter stops short as suddenly, the room flashes brightly, six figures teleporting into the room, surrounding the Key. A look of surprise falls across his face in reaction to the sudden appearance of the Justice League. Cursing loudly and raising the energy rifle from his side, he says, "So, you want to bring the game to me, then let's show you what my pet Martian has enabled me to do."
The attack begins immediately as Green Lantern forges a dinosaur from the dark energies of his ring. The beast ambles toward the Key, who releases a photon blast from his rifle. The dinosaur dissipates within seconds of the attack, its threat ended before it could prove effective, but it proves long enough to provide distraction for the Flash to rush in on a streak of black lightning, administering a super-speed upper cut as he passes by.
The Key stumbles backwards from the shock of the impact, then says, "Let's see how you deal with this..." He waits a few minutes, expecting the Flash to fall from the re-routed mental attack, but it has no effect. Confused, he glances toward J'onn, confirming that the Manhunter is still drugged and under his control. "What's going on here?"
From the shadows, Batman watches this unfold, then calls over his radio, "Oracle, pour it on and keep him distracted. I need time to work with J'onn."
"I'm trying, but this is incredibly taxing. Aquaman is doing his best to screen out the psychic attacks before they reach the rest of the League, and I'm only one person here," Oracle responds, her words coming in short intervals as she fights to concentrate on the task at hand. "Even the Injustice League only had to control one of these things at a time."
"Just do it. Batman out." He barks back, breaking into a full sprint and rushing into the shadows behind J'onn. Reaching down to his belt, he positions a small cube inches from J'onn's face, and a strobe light activates, blinking rapidly. "You will hear my voice, and my voice alone. There is no one in this room save for the two of us. It's pitch black, but there's a small orange light growing in the far corner. Can you see it? Look around you. There are no doors, no windows, no exits, and the light is getting closer, growing brighter. Suddenly, you can feel the heat against your skin, feel it churning in your lungs with every breath you take. Can you see it? Can you feel it? What could it be?"
"FIRE!" J'onn exclaims, falling under the trance of the lights and Batman's monotone, his mind now susceptible to suggestion due to the drugging. Shooting upward, he snaps the chains that bind him to the chair, and slips into a state of intangibility.
Shutting down the light, Batman snaps his fingers and says, "Welcome back, J'onn."
From his left, Wonder Woman tosses her ebony lasso around his waist, cinching it closed and not allowing the Key time to slip free before she pulls the rope taught and yanks the Key off his feet. The momentum carries him through the air and straight into an awesome punch from Superman.
Tumbling across the ground, the Key exclaims, "This isn't fair. Why can't I control them anymore?" His last words are cut-off as a dark-metal harpoon wraps around his ankles and drags him across the ground toward the grim visage of Aquaman.
Suddenly, two strong hands wrap around the Key's shoulders and lift his thin frame off the ground. Wide-eyed, he stares into the Martian Manhunter's eyes, as J'onn says, "Because you are no longer in control of this Martian. Your reach has exceeded your grasp, and I have re-routed my neural receptors in order to screen out your influence. This is not the Justice League, but hard light dopplegangers created by a group of foes that, even with their combined might, could not overcome us. And this entire ruse was staged by the one member of the League that you failed to give credence to."
"This isn't over..."
"Oh, but it is," Batman interjects, depressing the switch on an aerosol bottle and saying, "Now, as you fall away to sleep, you'll figure out that the League fears one thing, and one thing alone, and it's not you. It's the day when we will be unable to save the world from ourselves. And that day, is never going to come."
The Next Day.
A solemn expression is carried on his face as Superman regards the gathered members of the Justice League, each sitting in their chair around the table. He looks at the each for a slow period of time, sizing them up and wondering if his decision is the right way to go. Only time will tell, he supposes, if wounds are to heal. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm glad to see you all up to your previous levels, or at least on the road to recovery. We've faced a harrowing last few days, and that makes this meeting all-the-more important. First, we have an update on the Key. Oracle..."
The computer-generated avatar of Oracle hangs above the center of the table, as she responds, "Cadmus is once again in possession of the Key, this time monitoring his condition constantly through a series of cameras and electrical devices. He has been placed into a sensory deprivation chamber, similar to those used on divers who have the Bends. This should effectively cut him off from any stimulation. However, on the off-chance that he should awake, Cadmus has equipped monitors that will flood the chamber with a gas concoction first used by the original Sandman, during the early days of the Justice Society."
"Thank you, Oracle. On that note, we move onto some more pressing business. While our battle with the Key was mostly driven by mental manipulation, it can not be denied that that manipulation was achieved by facts and feelings that each of us harbor. There were secrets exposed, trusts broken, and mostly, feelings hurt. It is my impression that the League can not continue in this manner, not until we can learn to trust each other once more. With this in mind, I am hearby,..."
"Superman, is this because of the kryptonite, because I didn't know..." Green Lantern interrupts, looking concerned and hoping to stop Superman before he makes a rash decision.
"In a way, Kyle, yes it is. The Kryptonite was a secret I had entrusted to Batman, in the off-chance that I should go rogue and need someone to put an end to my threat. It was a secret he has kept for me for many years, but that doesn't mean that it was a wise decision. Evidently, he has determined a method to synthesize that element, which was relayed to you via psychic suggestion, a link later shattered when Batman used J'onn's weaknesses against him in hypnotic suggestion. If J'onn's mind had not been co-opted, then Batman's knowledge of Kryptonite never would have been made apparent to you, and the ore would have been nothing but a lifeless rock. But because you knew its details, you were able to construct it. But all of this is beyond the point. Your tantrum was forced by Aquaman's mistrust of your position within the League, a position he later took with Plastic Man as well. And then there was my usage of Aquaman's weakness to save Plastic Man. It's a vicious circle. If not for swift thinking, we might not have won this one, but should we forgive ourselves for the steps taken? No, not yet...and not as a group. Ladies and Gentlemen, the League is now disbanded until further notice, at least this incarnation. I'm sorry, but time is needed."
"Time may prove to harm us in the long run," Batman replies.
"Maybe so, but moreso than mistrust." Superman says, stepping up from the table, and leaving the other Leaguers watching, as he walks away.
Next Issue: A new story arc begins as a new threat arises and there's no Justice League to stop it. Will a new League rise? Find out when Mike Bent steps up to take the reins with JLA #5.
Hey folks,
It's been great having the opportunity to run the JLA through the ringer and play some mind-games with the main guns of the DCU. Hopefully, the storyline met with everyone's approval. Yes, I broke the League, but all the fun lies in the stories that will spring from this and perhaps, the task of putting it back together again.
Personally, I'd love to hear as much feedback on this arc as I can. Feel free to email me with your hatred or your praise. I'll respond to everything in kind.
Thanks, and perhaps I'll see y'all again. In the meantime, check out Starman and Robin!
Michael