The Siren Wants A Do-Over

A PEACEFUL DAY IN GOTHAM CITY . . .

BUT THAT CALM WILL SOON BE SHATTERED, AS AN OLD FRIEND IS ABOUT TO ENTER COMMISSIONER GORDON'S OFFICE . . .

OR IS IT AN OLD ADVERSARY?

The Commissioner's intercom buzzed.

"Yes, Bonnie?" he replied.

"Lorelei Circe is here to see you, Commissioner."

"Ah, yes," the Commissioner said, his face brightening. "Send her in."

A female figure slowly entered. Although Gordon had seen her many times before, he couldn't help but be amazed again as the woman once known as the Siren walked into his office. She was a petite, yet curvaceous woman, wearing something that resembled a cross between an ancient Greek tunic and a mini-skirt. It was made of nearly reflective silver and accentuated her form perfectly. Her left shoulder was bare, but accessorized well by a silver bracelet just above her elbow.

She was a brunette, with her hair tied back into an elaborate bun that stretched horizontally behind her head. Sandals, similar to the ancient Greek style - except also a metallic silver - completed the dazzling package. As Gordon rose from his chair behind his desk, he noticed that she was followed closely by two slightly shorter brunettes. Both were clad in plain white Greek gowns that were full length, so as not to upstage the customary outfit worn by their enchanting employer.

"Miss Circe–” the Commissioner stopped himself and smiled, “or, I suppose I should say, Mrs. Wow? How nice to see you again. What brings you here? And who are these beautiful ladies with you?"

"Well, Commissioner, I've decided to go back out on tour and resume my singing career under the name of ‘The Siren,’" she said, "and with my voice not quite what it used to be, as you know, I decided I needed some backup singers. Meet Melody . . ."

The Siren gestured at the curvy brown-eyed beauty whose right shoulder was bare. Melody had long brown hair flowing past her shoulders and a haughty, almost regal quality to her face, much like her employer. She nodded and smiled ever-so-slightly at the Commissioner.

"...and Lyrica." The Siren then pointed to the slender green-eyed cutie whose left shoulder was uncovered. She, too, had long brown hair, tied back into a pony-tail behind her girl-next-door face. She also nodded and smiled.

The Commissioner noticed that both backup singers had ‘henchwomen-like’ names, but he quickly dismissed the idea. 'I’m sure that’s just part of the act,' he thought.

"Well, it's nice to meet you both," Gordon said politely. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Just one tiny little fav-ah, Commission-ah," the Siren said, her British accent becoming overpowering for a moment. "Would you be so kind as to call Batman for me on the Batphone? I'm staging a benefit concert for Gotham City Hospital, to thank them for everything they did to heal me. It would be so wonderful if Batman could be there."

Gordon remembered how the hospital's Dr. Wow had operated on the Siren's vocal cords, "powering down" her electronic implants so that the supervillainess would no longer be able to stun men with her high-pitched voice.

Still, he shook his head at her request. "Now, you know I can't do that. I can only call Batman in the event of a real police emergency."

The Siren folded her hands and looked Gordon in the eyes. "Well, would this qualify?" she asked sweetly.

In an instant, she opened her mouth and released a high-pitched note, two octaves above High C.

The trusting public servant was caught by surprise, but it wouldn't have mattered. There was no way any man could be prepared for this.

Gordon's mind went blank. He tried to speak, but his lower lip quivered and no words came out. All he could comprehend was the Siren, who now was walking toward him. His vision seemed to tilt, as she planted herself directly in his field of view. Finally, the note ended.

"Now, Commissioner, you are ready to do my bidding . . . again!" she said, as the light in the office reflected off her silver earrings.

The Commissioner stood mesmerized, staring at her. "Your merest wish is my ultimate command, Siren," he said.

"Wow. That's wicked, boss," Melody said with the hint of a British accent, looking at the hypnotized Commissioner.

“Yes, isn’t it?” the Siren said smugly.

"He will do anything you say? Really??" Lyrica asked. This was the first time the two henchwomen had seen their new employer demonstrate her unique brand of sorcery.

"Of course he will," the Siren said, laughing. "No man can resist this stunning note of my voice. In fact, unless I tell him, he is not even aware that the two of you are in this room right now. He sees and hears only me. Isn't that right, Commissioner?"

"I see and hear only you, Siren."

Lyrica was impressed, but she was nothing if not practical. "So, now what?"

The sexy sorceress beamed. "Now I can rewrite criminal history and set things straight . . . or, in this case, crooked."

The henchwomen looked puzzled. "I don't follow you," Melody admitted.

"Me neither," seconded Lyrica.

"My alluring assistants, when I first came to Gotham City several years ago, my first solo criminal caper began in this very office . . . but I made a nearly fatal mistake. I stupidly entrusted a man - this one . . ." Her green eyes glared at Gordon. ". . . with discovering Batman's true identity. Of course, being a man, he made a bloody mess of the whole thing, and I wound up hanging on to the ledge of a building, begging for my life . . . and losing my voice in the process!"

"So, that's why you have those electronic implants . . . ?"

"Precisely, Melody. I might have lost them, too. That silly Dr. Wow at the hospital tried to sneak up on me to remove them – foolish, impertinent male!"

Lyrica prodded the Siren to finish the story, "But you fixed him. . . ?"

"I certainly did. I stunned him and gave him a post-hypnotic suggestion, telling him that we were an engaged couple and that he had powered down my implants. After that, and a few trans-Atlantic phone calls, my record was expunged. I’m a free woman, pardoned by the President of the United States himself!"

The Siren laughed hysterically. "But all that is water under Gotham Bridge," she said, eyeing Gordon malevolently.

"What are you gonna have him do?" Lyrica asked.

"What am I going to have him do?" the Siren said rhetorically, her stern tone of voice scolding her sexy sycophant for her colloquialism. "I'll show you, right now!

"Commissioner, first, take your regular phone off the hook. I don't want anyone to disturb us."

Gordon did as he was told.

"Good. Now, I want you to call Batman.”

In all sincerity, his gaze fixed upon the Siren, the Commissioner asked, “What would you like me to call him?”

The Siren put her right hand on her face. ‘Men can be so stupid!’ She glanced at the red Batphone. “Let’s try this again, Commissioner, shall we? Call him on the Hotline! Right now. I wish to speak with him."

The Commissioner nodded and smiled. "Whatever you desire," he said.

He walked over and picked up the Batphone, all the while staring at the diabolical diva.

The Batphone beeped at Wayne Manor. Alfred picked up the receiver, and hearing Gordon's voice, immediately handed the phone to his employer, who had been researching obscure Greek goddesses in the study, along with his former ward.

"Hello, Commissioner. Which criminal is plaguing Gotham City this time?"

The Commissioner, however, did not answer the question and simply stated, "Somebody wishes to speak to you, Batman."

Bruce's mind quickly processed what the Commissioner had said. The millionaire philanthropist found it strange, but before he had time to react, the Siren grabbed the phone and unleashed her stunning note.

Bruce's blue eyes glazed over as the note reached a crescendo. The Siren's terrible tone then tapered off until it finally ended.

"Batman," the Siren said, "you are under my spell. You will do anything I command. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You will report to Police Headquarters in your civilian clothes . . . and this is very important: Do not let anyone stop you."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and before you do that, would you please put Robin on the phone."

"Certainly. It's for you, Robin."

Dick had never heard Bruce call him Robin when he was out of costume. The youthful crimefighter knew something was terribly wrong. ‘Bruce hasn't acted this way since . . . since that first time he was stunned by the Siren!’

Dick took the phone and hung it up, being careful to make sure he didn't hear anything from the other end.

He wanted desperately to stop his friend and mentor, but he didn't even try as Bruce walked away in a daze. Dick knew it would be futile.

"Holy Hypnosis!" Dick exclaimed. "This has to be the work of the Siren, Alfred! Batgirl was right. The Siren is obviously uninterested in reforming."

"I'm afraid you're right, sir."

Dick felt anger welling inside him. As Robin, he knew what it was like to have a supervillainess take away his free will. The Siren had already done it to him more than once, not to mention Catwoman, as well as the Queen of Diamonds.

Catwoman and Marsha had done it with chemicals. True, the Siren now needed electronic vocal enhancement to accomplish the feat, but still, she could do it on her own. In that way, she was the most awesome and frightening foe the Dynamic Duo had ever faced, Dick decided. Maybe one day, their luck against this mysterious meta-human would run out . . .

That was too awful a thought to ponder for very long. Dick turned his attention to what he needed to do now.

"I'll have to head down to Police Headquarters, Alfred, but first, I must get the Bat-earplugs and the Bat-synchronizer. That should provide me with enough protection against the Siren."

“Good idea, sir,” Alfred replied. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, Alfred.” Dick went to the Batpole, for a rare solo descent to become his crimefighting alter-ego.

As Dick departed, Alfred thought about calling Barbara Gordon, but struggled with the issue of how to do so, yet protect Batman and Robin’s secret identities. Unlike last time, Batman was under the Siren’s spell, but still in the guise of Bruce Wayne.

“A sticky wicket indeed,” the butler muttered to himself.

Back at Police Headquarters, the seductive singer was miffed her plan already had suffered a setback. The Siren wasn’t used to not getting her way.

"Of all the ruddy luck!" she whined. "We got disconnected! Well, at least Batman will be here soon."

"Would you like me to greet him, Siren?" Gordon asked.

"No, Commissioner. In fact, I want you to be quiet while I speak to my nefarious nymphs."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Commissioner stared into space as the shapely supervillain addressed her assistants.

"I've had Batman in my power before," Siren said, rubbing her hands together as her eyes widened, "but now I'll finally get to see who he really is."

"Why didn't you just ask Batman his secret identity over the phone?" Melody wanted to know.

"Because he once refused to reveal it to me, even though he was under my spell. The only way to be sure is to see Batman's secret identity for myself. I'm certain he won't keep me waiting long. Funny, no man ever does!" She giggled hysterically before exhaling deeply.

Then a sudden thought struck the chanteuse. ‘Doe, Rae and Mimi were perfectly willing to turn against me when it was to their advantage. Is it wise to share the secret of Batman’s true identity with Melody and Lyrica?’

The Siren addressed her minions. “Melody, Lyrica, go down to the basement and guard the van. I’ll call you if I need you.”

“But–“ Melody began.

“No argument!” the Siren insisted. “Go!”

Quietly grumbling, the henchwomen went back the way they had entered.

MEANWHILE, IN HER APARTMENT, BARBARA GORDON WAITS AND WORRIES . . .

Barbara Gordon stared at the phone. Her father had said he would call her after five, to confirm their dinner plans for later that night.

Her phone had still yet to ring.

‘Maybe Daddy just got busy . . .’ Then Barbara’s heart began to pound in her chest, . . . or maybe Commissioner Gordon needs Batgirl’s help!’

Barbara called her father’s private line, but got only a busy signal. After trying a couple of times with the same result, she called his receptionist instead.

Bonnie, ever diligent, usually stayed on duty as long as the Police Commissioner was in his office.

"Hi, Bonnie, this is Barbara Gordon. I've been trying to get through to my dad, but his line seems to be busy."

"Hmmm, that's strange, Barbara," Bonnie replied.

"Has he had any visitors?"

"Yes, he has. Lorelei Circe dropped by about an hour ago to say hello, along with two other women. Those two just left, but she's been in there ever since."

Barbara was shocked, but tried not to let it show in her voice. "Oh. That's . . ." Barbara paused, "interesting."

"She reformed, didn’t she?" Bonnie asked. "I also heard she doesn't have those weird powers anymore."

"Yes, you're right, Bonnie," Barbara said. "I'm sure everything is fine. If you talk to my father, just let him know I called. Thank you. Goodbye."

Charlie, her pet parrot, squawked, as if upset.

"I know I'm right, Charlie! I was convinced the Siren wouldn't reform, but I didn’t want to tell Bonnie my suspicions, get her all worried and possibly put her in danger. Besides, all she could do would be to summon the mostly male Gotham City police force. Diana’s gone for a couple of days, so the policemen at Headquarters would probably end up as the Siren’s willing robots.” Barbara reached a decision. “Batman and Robin aren’t immune to the Siren, either, and with Daddy in trouble, there’s no time to contact Batwoman and Flamebird.

"No, Charlie, Batgirl needs to handle this one by herself."

As Barbara transformed into Batgirl, she thought, ‘Why does the Siren keep targeting Daddy? She’s been so bent on discovering Batman's identity; is it possible she's guessed mine?!’

Those unsettling thoughts kept invading her mind as she hopped on her Batgirlcycle, rode down the secret elevator, roared over the fake brick door and sped off to Police Headquarters.

BACK AT COMMISSIONER GORDON'S OFFICE, THERE IS YET ANOTHER VISITOR . . .

The door to the office opened.

"Well, that was quick," the Siren said.

But instead of Bruce Wayne, it was Chief O'Hara who walked unannounced into Gordon's office, as he often did.

‘I’m pretty sure he’s not Batman!’ the Siren concluded.

The first thing that caught the Chief’s eye was the reflective silver of the Siren's outfit. Unwittingly confirming the Siren’s hypothesis, he shouted, "Mother McKree!" and immediately turned to leave.

Before he could escape, though, the Siren's stunning note froze him in his tracks.

"Not so fast, Chief," the Siren said with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Turn around. I'm not finished with you yet."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You can stand next to your superior, Chief, while I wait for Batman. I want you to be silent. Is that understood?"

The Chief nodded.

"At least I'm not asking you to jump in Gotham Park Lake this time,” Siren said, chuckling. “Not yet, anyway."

Moments later, the door opened again.

With a glazed expression, Bruce Wayne entered the Commissioner's office. For once, it was the Siren herself who had a stunned look on her face.

"Bruce Wayne is Batman? Bruce Wayne is Batman!" The Siren's tone quickly changed from puzzled to triumphant.

"All that time, I had Batman in my power and didn't even know it. How could I have been so obtuse?” She held her right thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “I was this close to ridding myself of the Caped Crusader right off the bat,” she smiled at her little joke, “and was unaware of it!"

The luscious lovely eyed Bruce coldly.

"My mesmerized millionaire," she said, "I now know your secret identity. I know you are Batman. So would that make Dick Grayson, your youthful one-time ward, Robin, the grown-up Boy Wonder?"

Bruce’s face betrayed his inner turmoil. "I'm sorry, Siren . . . but I can neither confirm . . . nor deny, your conclusion," he said in a monotone.

"That's fine," she replied. "I knew you would say that, but I can read between the lines. Oh, this is so delicious! I, the Siren, am the one to finally unmask Batman and Robin!!"

The Siren whirled on the Commissioner and Chief O’Hara. “You two will forget anything you may have heard me say to Mr. Wayne. Is that understood?”

"Of course, Siren," they replied in unison.

"Excellent. Now, I want–” Before the wicked songstress could finish her thought, Batgirl climbed through the window. Using Barbara Gordon's knowledge of her father's office, Batgirl had snuck into the building via a back entrance, climbed the stairs to the third floor, entered a storage room adjacent to the office, and then made her way from the ledge through the window.

"It's just you and me, Siren!" she yelled confidently. "You can't put me under your spell, and there are no henchmen to protect you!"

"Oh, but there are, Batgirl. Don't forget, I can transform any man into my obedient servant, ready to lay down his life on my behalf!"

The Siren looked at Bruce, the Commissioner and the Chief, who were standing transfixed. "Boys! You will protect me at all costs!" the Siren commanded. "Seize Batgirl!"

Batgirl froze in her tracks. ‘Oh, no! Beating up thugs is one thing, but how can I harm my own father?’ Again she thought, ‘Maybe Siren knows who I am!

‘No,’ she concluded. ‘It’s probably just one of the most unfortunate of coincidences!’

The superheroine put up no resistance as the three hypnotized men grabbed her, shoved her into a chair and held her down.

"I’ve come to wish my power worked on women, Batgirl," the Siren said. "Maybe someday . . . but since it doesn't, I'll just have to find another way to get you on my side."

Batgirl had barely begun digesting that sinister statement when the sizzling seductress pulled a small spray bottle out of her silver handbag. A couple of squirts later, Batgirl had been whisked into unconsciousness.

"This virtuous vixen is forever ruining my plans,” the Siren said angrily, looking at Batgirl with disdain. “Only this time, she's just delaying them a little."

The glamorous gangster walked over to Gordon and stroked his chin.

"Jimmy?" she said, seductively.

"Yes, Siren?"

"Where is the service elevator? I need to make a delivery. One Bat, to go."

"It's just outside my office, to the right."

“Good . . . and do you have a private loo around here somewhere?”

It took a moment, but the Commissioner comprehended what she was asking and indicated its location by pointing. “I have a private rest room through that door.”

“Excellent. Now, finally, Commissioner, see if your receptionist is still on duty. If she is, tell her to leave, immediately.”

“Of course, Siren.” The Commissioner pressed his intercom button. “Bonnie, are you still here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please take the rest of the night off.” Even under the Siren’s spell, concern was evident in his voice. “You work too hard.”

“Not as hard as you, sir,” Bonnie pointed out.

“Thank you, but go home. Now. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Bonnie replied reluctantly. The she remembered. “Sir, your daughter called.”

“Thank you, Bonnie. Good night.”

“Good night, sir.”

The Siren was momentarily concerned by the Commissioner’s daughter’s phone call, but decided it was of no importance. The heartless hypnotist then turned her attention to both the Commissioner and the Chief.

"The effects of my sonic spell will wear off very soon," the Siren said. "So you must listen very carefully to my instructions."

"Yes, Siren," the two said in unison.

"Go sit on the couch. You will be completely oblivious to anyone and anything. You will not move and you will not speak, that is, until I return and you hear my melodious voice once again. Is that clear?"

The two law enforcement officers nodded their heads and quickly sat motionless on the black vinyl couch.

The Siren whirled to face Bruce. She noted with satisfaction that he was wearing a wristwatch. “Now, as to you, Bruce, darling. The same instructions apply, but first I want you to go into the Commissioner’s private bathroom and wait there for ten minutes before joining the Commissioner and Chief O’Hara on the couch. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Siren.”

“Wonderful. Then go.”

As he walked away, the Siren took out her cell phone and punched a number.

"Lyrica," the Siren said, "I didn't hire you to do any heavy lifting, but I think you can handle this. I’ve got Batgirl up here, sound asleep. You and Melody come and carry her to the van . . . and hurry!"

In less than three minutes, Lyrica and Melody arrived in response to the Siren’s call.

As her female flunkies picked up Batgirl, the Siren spoke to them. “Since Batgirl is here already, I'm sure Robin won't be far behind. I've still got a score to settle with him, but now’s not the time. With these men in a trance, that poor Batboy won't know what to do. He'll have no idea he could be rescuing this meddling minx from the fate I have planned for her!"

The Siren walked toward the door on her way to the elevator. She looked back at her catatonic captives and blew them a kiss.

"I'll see you both again, very soon," she said sweetly in a soft voice. "Don't miss me too much."

Her laughter reverberated through the elevator as it made its way toward the basement.

Within minutes after the Siren and her henchwomen had left in their silver van, Robin arrived in front of Police Headquarters. Using his Batarang, he climbed up the building to the window of Commissioner Gordon's office. He noticed that the window of the adjacent storage room was open as well.

‘Hmmm,’ he wondered, ‘Could Batgirl be here already?’ Robin knew from experience that she somehow often got on a case even before the Dynamic Duo. In addition, she was adept at finding entrances and exits about which other people, including even Batman and Robin, didn't know.

When he finally swung himself up into the room, however, he was disappointed to not find Batgirl . . . or the Siren, either. All he discovered was Bruce, the Commissioner and the Chief, sitting motionless on a couch, each with glazed-over eyes.

"Mr. Wayne! Commissioner! Chief!" he yelled. "Bruce! Can you hear me?"

There was no answer from any of them. He waved his right hand in front of their faces. All three continued to stare straight ahead.

"Holy Voodoo!" he exclaimed. "It seems the Siren's spells are even more powerful than before!"

The youthful crimefighter had a decision to make – should he pursue the Siren, which perhaps might lead him to Batgirl? Or should he wait in the Commissioner’s Office? Knowing the Siren’s obsession with finding out Batman's and his identities, he suspected she would be coming back at some point to pick up Bruce. Still, he knew there was a very good chance Batgirl had fallen into the Siren’s hands. If so, he had to find Batgirl.

Unfortunately, he had no idea where to look.

Before he left, though, there was one more thing he had to do. He looked around the room until his gaze fell upon the Commissioner’s desk.

‘That would be as good a place as any,’ he thought.

Batgirl's head bobbed spasmodically as she awoke. As she looked around, she immediately realized she was enclosed in a glass booth, her wrists and ankles held in place by metal straps. Wires were connected to the left and right sides of her neck, and they extended to the ceiling of the glass contraption, which had a metal sheet on top of it.

Next to her was some kind of huge, round, machine. The ceiling in the room was expansive, to accommodate the massive instrument.

She opened her mouth and was not surprised to realize she wasn’t gagged. It seemed the Siren and other supervillains enjoyed bantering with Batgirl while they explained her imminent demise.

Trying desperately to orientate herself, the sexy superheroine glanced at the rest of the room and realized she was being held captive in some sort of laboratory. Just then, the door to her tiny prison opened, apparently by remote control, and she heard voices coming from a nearby staircase. It was the Siren, who had made a minor change in her glittering ensemble. Instead of sandals, she now wore silver boots up to the middle of her calves. Sheer stockings covered the rest of her legs.

She was followed closely by two women, who Batgirl guessed had been the two to accompany the Siren to her father’s office.

Batgirl noted that the two acted less like henchwomen and more like handmaidens to their malevolent mistress. One immediately pulled out a chair for the Siren, and started giving her a manicure. The other stood behind the Siren with a hair brush, stroking the trademark bouffant of the shapely seductress. The Siren observed the second woman’s handiwork in a small hand mirror.

"Have you had enough rest, Batgirl?" the Siren said sweetly, not even bothering to look at her captive.

Batgirl responded with her usual spunk, even though she felt quite uneasy at this juncture. With trepidation, Batgirl recalled the two times the Siren had tortured her with sound waves. The Purple Paragon resolved, though, not to betray any concern. She wouldn't let her alluring adversary have any extra satisfaction.

"You'll have plenty of time to rest when this is over, Siren," Batgirl said, "when you're back in the Gotham State Penitentiary, after your latest plot fails."

"I don’t think I’ll ever again see the inside of Warden Crichton’s fine establishment, Domino Daredoll," Siren said, laughing as she invoked one of Batgirl's nicknames. "In fact, by the time this little experiment is finished, you may be on my side."

"Never," Batgirl swore, but she didn’t feel the confidence contained in her voice. ‘Don’t tell me the Siren has gotten her hands on some Cataphrenic, too!? she worried. ‘What, was Catwoman selling the stuff on some supervillain infomercial?!’ Nervousness now worked its way into her voice and she asked, "What little experiment?"

"I will tell you all about it, in due time . . . in due time," the Siren said in her crisp British accent. "For now, though . . . tell me, Batgirl, are you aware of how I originally came by my unique musical abilities?"

"Uh . . . no. No offense intended, honestly, but I always assumed that you were a freak of nature of some sort."

The Siren giggled. "No offense taken. Now I am, dear girl . . . however, I wasn't born this way. I suppose you don't know of the unfortunate accident that happened to me in my native Londinium."

Batgirl's eyes widened as the villainous vocalist continued her story. "I was performing at an outdoor concert in Hide (and Seek) Park when something unusual happened," the Siren said. Although they had heard this story before, her assistants stared at her in wonder as she recounted the day she ceased being Lorelei Circe and was transformed into the Siren . . .

In her mind, the dazzling diva flashed back to that fateful evening. As she was singing, dark clouds had begun to gather, and soon a violent thunderstorm had formed. It was an unusual weather pattern back home, and perhaps that's why the producer had allowed the show to continue.

"I kept on singing," the Siren recalled. "You know how we performers are – the show must go on."

But just as Lorelei Circe had belted our her famous High C note, she had felt a tingling sensation throughout her body. She had then toppled backward, unconscious.

"I woke up in the hospital, and was told that a bolt of lightning had struck me while I was performing. I sat up and tried to speak, but was unable to make a sound. The finest vocal-cord specialists in the land were brought in to see me, and none of them were sure if I would ever regain my voice."

"Obviously you did, boss," Melody said, interrupting the Siren.

The seductive sorceress merely smiled at her henchwoman's impertinence. "Right you are, my musical minion," she said. "I left the hospital a day later and my voice had returned. I believed I was ready to try singing again."

The perceptive Batgirl had a feeling where this tale was going, and could feel the sweat forming underneath her cowl as the Siren resumed her recollection. "So that day, I attempted to hit the same High C I had been doing my whole career. Only this time, I could tell it sounded different, much more high-pitched than usual. I then went to the next room to find my butler, Albert Nickelsby. When I called out to him, he said, 'Yes, ma'am,' just as he had hundreds of times before . . . but clearly something was different. His voice was more monotone than usual and he stood transfixed, staring into space, waiting for my next command."

The Siren had known Albert was hypnotized! But how? Why?

"It was then," the Siren said, "for the first time, I realized what my name-Lorelei Circe - actually meant."

The Siren walked over to her trademark harp several feet away, sat down and began plucking. She then sang:

Lorelei, the legendary siren of the Rhine;
Circe, the sorceress who turned men into swine.

The English enchantress finished her brief performance, and directed her attention to Batgirl again.

"Maybe it was destiny, the name I was given at birth," the alluring arch-criminal said. "Maybe it was prophecy . . . but I knew right then with my newfound vocal range, I had the power to cloud men's minds . . . and to control them!"

“But you never suspected it wouldn't work on women,” Batgirl interjected, attempting to stall.

Siren answered, “My dear, I never tried it on a female until I met you. Dominating hapless males was quite enough.”

The Siren stared coldly at Batgirl, and continued her speech. "I decided I would resume my singing career, but only as a front for my new criminal empire."

"So, how did you wind up on this side of the Atlantic?" Batgirl asked.

"My dear, if you want to be a super-criminal, no other place offers the options for ravaging and pillaging that Gotham City does. It's simply the place to be . . . although I have decided since, why shouldn't I branch out to new horizons?"

The Siren looked up and spread her arms in the air.

"I mean, I don't think world domination is beyond my reach!" she said.

Batgirl was beginning to think the Siren had lost her mind. "And how do you expect to achieve that?" The Caped Crimefightress knew from experience that getting criminals to reveal their plans could possibly aid in their capture later.

The Siren's green eyes brightened. "With a global network of sirens," she said, smiling, "and without roaming charges, I might add.

"Think about it. A veritable army of sirens all over the world, amassing money and power through hypnosis. I would be the queen of them all. Who knows? I just might be able to send someone out West. There's an oil baron I've heard of- I think his name is Blake or something – who’s got a fortune that's just waiting for me to claim!"

Sudden realization came over Batgirl. Her tormentor wanted to change her into a siren! She began squirming frantically in an attempt to loosen her bonds, but it was no use. "You are crazy!" she sputtered.

The Siren rose from her chair and approached Batgirl, until the two beauties were nose-to-nose.

"If you say so," Siren said agreeably.

The curvaceous criminal laughed and then stepped back slightly and said, "My intention is to recreate what happened to me all those years ago, but only in a more controlled environment.

"Next to you is a heavy ion particle accelerator, capable of conducting twenty million volts of electricity, the same amount of voltage that ran through my body, including my vocal cords, during my rather fortunate accident."

"Just how did you get your hands on a particle accelerator?!" Batgirl demanded.

The Siren broke into a bemused smile.

"Brave girl, I suppose I should tell you. You are inside the Atomic Energy Laboratory!"

"I can guess how you acquired the use of this place," Batgirl said bitterly.

"It is amazing, Batgirl. Before I had even finished one verse, the powers that be here, all of them male I might add, were more than happy to let me use it for free, for as long as I want . . . but I'm more interested in talking about the present and the future than the past.

"The particle accelerator is connected to your glass prison, which has been topped with a metal covering. That will help to conduct the electricity from the accelerator through the electrodes and pump it into your body, and to your vocal cords. When the process is finished, it's my belief that you will be like me: A siren. The first of many, I hope."

"Since when did you become Dr. Frankenstein?"

The Siren laughed melodiously, and took a deep breath. "Well, my dear, if one is going to plagiarize, one might as well steal from the classics – especially from a plot written by a woman! Besides, that good doctor was trying to create life. I'm just trying to enhance it – yours and mine."

Batgirl was her usual defiant self. "Say your little experiment works: What makes you think I would go along with your plan? I would use that power for good, not evil."

"It's very simple, Batgirl," Siren cooed. "You don't know what it's like to be able to hypnotize any man at any time; to have their lives almost literally in your hands; to use them as puppets to fulfill your every wish.

"You know, I never spent a crooked day in my life . . . until I was transformed. Power corrupts, especially power like this. I'm sure you will feel the same way once the change occurs. If the change occurs, that is."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I haven't been able to test this theory. After all, you can hardly stun a lab rat with twenty million volts and see if it becomes a siren, can you? Plus that would be inhumane, wouldn't it? I wouldn't want the animal-rights activists after me.”

Batgirl rolled her eyes. “Your concern for animals is quite touching.”

The Siren smiled. "Actually, I had planned to kidnap one of the other Gotham City divas and try it out on her . . . but, as usual, Batgirl, you got in the way. So now, your punishment for that is you get to be my guinea pig. If it doesn't work, who knows? You could be left a quivering mass of neurons, or more likely, you could be electrocuted . . . and quite – thoroughly – dead."

Siren chuckled.

Batgirl's mouth quivered. She nodded in the direction of Melody and Lyrica. "Why not try this fiendish experiment on your fan club over there? I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

The Siren shook her head. "If it works on you, perhaps I will, but now, you see, they're not expendable. You are. Either I will eliminate you as an adversary, or I will eliminate you, period. It's a win-win situation . . . for me.

“But enough talk. It's time for action."

The Siren clapped her hands. "Allegro, Andante," she said.

Just then her longtime henchmen, who had been standing motionless in a corner of the room, rushed to the hypnotic headturner, and kneeled in front of her. The bound Batgirl hadn't even noticed them before, because they were beyond the crimefightress's peripheral vision.

"So, I see they're under your spell now, too," Batgirl observed.

The Siren smiled. "Why not? Once I had to add Melody and Lyrica to the payroll, these two became cost-prohibitive. Now, they don't even know when it's payday. Besides, my overhead seems to be going up this month.

"Look at them, Batgirl! They are completely obedient and subservient. Just imagine, being able to use men as playthings that you can discard whenever you want! I quite assure you, it's a lot of fun. Being evil is very enjoyable."

Batgirl looked at the Siren sternly.

"No matter what you do to me, I'll never be a criminal. Never!"

"You hold on to that thought, my dear," Siren said, smiling. "By the way, you'll notice I've had your utility belt removed. It clashes with a Greek gown."

The Siren looked at Allegro and Andante. "Allegro, make sure Batgirl is securely fastened," she said. "Andante, bring in Professor Gibson.”

"Yes, ma'am," they said in monotone unison, and then performed their nefarious duties wordlessly.

Andante returned, leading by the arm a distinguished-looking gentleman with a brown suit, a goatee and glasses.

“Ah, dear Professor Gibson,” the Siren cooed. “If you would be so kind as to activate the particle accelerator."

“Your wish is my command.” The professor did as he was instructed.

As he finished, the Siren said, "Splendid." She paused and smiled at her captive. "I'm afraid I have to go now, Batgirl. It will take a while for the accelerator to get fully warmed up, and we may not know for hours if the experiment has been a success. Besides, I must get ready for my close-up, right, girls?"

"Right, boss," Melody and Lyrica said, nodding in unison.

The Siren was about to leave when she again spied her favorite harp. Drawn to it, she sat down and began plucking the strings. The mesmerizing musician began to sing:

Dear Batgirl, soon you will no longer fight crime;
Maybe you will be the newest ally of mine;
Or perhaps you will just run out of time!

ZING! The beautiful Brit ran her fingers through the strings for one last chord before getting up.

"Goodbye, Batgirl, my gallant guinea pig," she said, blowing a kiss. "Enjoy the experiment."

The Siren laughed as she slowly went up the stairs, followed closely by her attractive assistants. The three men stood silently by, not seeing a thing.

Batgirl struggled in vain against the bonds that held her in place . . . but it didn't seem to be of any use. The giant machine next to her roared to life.

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