The Siren Returns

A LOVELY LATE JUNE AFTERNOON IN MERRY OLDE ENGLAND,

BUT AT THE MANSION KNOWN AS FFOGG PLACE, AN EVEN LOVELIER VISITOR IS AT THE DOOR.

The Siren rang the doorbell and was surprised to be greeted by the Lady of this particular manor.

"Hello, Lorelei," Lady Peasoup said, wearing sunglasses. "So nice to see you."

The Siren smiled. "Since when do you answer your own doorbell, while wearing sunglasses indoors?"

"One can't be too careful, my dear," Lady Peasoup responded politely. "Your latest exploits back in the States already have reached this side of the pond. News on the criminal grapevine travels quite fast, you know."

"You could have had your butler open the door," the Siren said. "After all, I don't hypnotize EVERY chap I encounter."

"Oh, really?" Lady Peasoup responded. "Then how did you get past the guard at the gate?"

The Siren smiled wickedly. "It was only a short note," she said. "He'll recover quite soon, I promise you. Anyway, what made you think I knew your address?"

"A woman of your abilities, Siren, can get access to all kinds of information," Lady Peasoup said.

"One more question, then. How did you know I had arrived back home?"

"Young lady, I have many sources in many places. Just remember that."

The Siren nodded as Peasoup finally removed her shades. "Your warning certainly is understood," the delectable diva said.

"So tell me, just why are you here? Seems to me you've been on your own ever since those two capers you pulled, or tried to pull, with the Riddler."

The Siren ignored the insult and took off her dazzling silver blazer to reveal her trademark silver mini-dress.

"My dear," Penelope said, "don't you ever get cold wearing that outfit?"

"Funny you should ask. The heat of a different sort was becoming unbearable back in the States. Then I realized there's no place like home."

The Siren paused before adding, "By the way, where's your brother, Lord Ffogg?"

"As if you didn't know," Peasoup said. "He's still in prison."

"Weren't you and your brother each convicted of the same crime for your latest escapade?"

"Yes, of course, but while we were both sentenced to four to eight years, I was released early for good behavior, while poor Marmaduke is still rotting away. Pity."

Penelope broke out into a large grin, as did the Siren as they shared a laugh.

Peasoup, who was dressed in a checkered blazer, tight-fitting horseback riding pants and a pair of black boots that nearly reached her knees, then offered her guest "a spot of tea."

"Perhaps later, but first, I absolutely adore those boots, your Ladyship," Siren said, pointing at Peasoup's feet. "I've worn boots on occasion, although, I must admit, I still find sandals the most stylish and comfortable of footwear. Still, your fashion sense is impeccable, as always."

"You complimenting someone not named Lorelei Circe? You obviously must want something from me. Your rhetoric thus far is about as flimsy as that dress you're wearing."

"All right, your Ladyship, I'll get to the point. You still are running that so-called finishing school of yours, aren't you?"

"Yes, Lorelei, and it happens to be a legitimate school these days."

Siren was shocked. "Really? I had heard that, but I thought it was nothing more than a clever ruse on your part, your Ladyship."

"Well, that was how I got out of prison so quickly. While there, I volunteered as often as I could to speak with and counsel younger inmates, as well as young girls in juvenile detention. I also spoke to young girls in secondary school, all about the dangers of going down a criminal path."

"I'll try to ignore what you just said, Lady Peasoup, as it offends my sensibilities. I do, however, commend you for your admirable, although misguided, lifestyle change."

"Thank you, I think."

"Now let's get down to business. I thought that one of your girls could serve as the subject for an experiment of mine . . ."

Peasoup suddenly recalled that the Siren had attempted to transform Batgirl into a siren as well. As Peasoup had noted, criminal news does travel fast and far.

"I must admit, I don't quite understand," Penelope said. "Isn't one siren quite enough?"

"First of all, Lady Peasoup, I am convinced that this experiment can and WILL work. My old friend Minstrel has told me as much, and I trust his judgment on all things electronic. Secondly, imagine having someone else that you and I can mold into our own supervillainess. She can do almost all of the work, while we accumulate almost all of the money."

"I'm not sure I want to do that," Peasoup protested. "I've rather enjoyed going straight, quite frankly."

"Penelope, don't you want to leave your mark on the criminal world forever? This would accomplish that for both of us."

"Since when did you become worried about your legacy? I must admit you look as if you might live forever. . ."

"I certainly look like a goddess, that's quite true, but I don't think that I'm immortal. Although, who knows? Perhaps that's yet another side effect of my latest experience with electricity. I'm not, however, willing to test that potentially incorrect hypothesis anytime soon. There's too much work to be done."

"But, Siren, I daresay I've always thought you rather reveled in your uniqueness?"

"I used to, your Ladyship, but it's become a goal of mine to create someone else in my own image, or, at least, with my own characteristics."

"There is an easier way, my dear, unless, of course, you're one of THOSE women."

"I realize that," the Siren paused, adding, "Penny, and since you seem to be wondering, no, I like men very, very much. Especially when they're in the palm of my hand, as they invariably are.”

Penelope furrowed her brow briefly, but the Siren continued, smiling wickedly.

"There's no guarantee that I'd give birth to a female or that if I did, she would inherit ALL of my traits. Remember, I wasn't born with these abilities, although I suppose my genetic makeup made me more predisposed to acquiring them.

"Most importantly, to obscure this fabulous figure for even a few months," the curvaceous, yet slender sorceress placed her hands on her hips, "would be a crime far worse than anything I've ever contemplated. No, this is the way that we must proceed."

"So, am I to understand that you wish to experiment on one of my girls? Which one?"

"I don't know yet, Penelope," Siren said. "I should like to meet with all of them, and then I can decide which one is best suited to be a siren. Not just any woman can handle this, trust me on that one."

Lady Peasoup hardly heard the Siren’s last words, as she was lost in thought. ‘Marmaduke and I always had plenty of money. We went into the crime business for the thrills . . . and to show society the aristocracy still “had it.” It would be nice to leave the world something – or someone – to remember me by . . . .’

Penelope reached a decision. "Fair enough, Lorelei. I'll bring them in right now.” The Lady of Ffogg Place rang a nearby handbell.

A dour-looking man soon appeared. “Oh, Basil, tell the students their presence is wanted. Immediately."

"Yes, Basil," Siren said, turning toward Lady Peasoup's butler. "Fetch the five guinea pigs, I mean students." Siren again unleashed her sinister smile.

A few minutes later, five young women entered the room. Each of them curtseyed in the direction of the Siren, as if she were royalty. She did nothing to dissuade them from doing that, and, as always, enjoyed the attention.

Lady Peasoup then introduced each one of them: Kate, a tall, thin, brunette; Kristina, a blue-eyed blonde; Gwendolyn, a petite redhead; Felicity, a short, yet well-endowed, brunette; and Sara, a short blonde.

"Girls, this is Lorelei Circe," Lady Peasoup said. "She's a famous singer who is looking for an opening act."

"That's right," Siren said. "I'm searching for a young lady with natural vocal ability and I will train her in all the nuances of singing. Now, what's your name again, young lady?" Siren pointed to the first student, who had dark hair and green eyes, much like herself.

"M'name is Kate," she replied. "I've 'erd so much about you, Miz Circe."

Siren closed her eyes in disgust as Kate's Cockney accent assaulted her ears. The young woman was attractive, but that voice. ‘Ugh,’ Siren thought. The scintillating supervillain wasn't one to mince words, either.

"Next!" she yelled. Kate hung her head.

"That would be me," said the strawberry blonde to Kate's left, her American accent obvious.

"I've followed your career since I was a little girl, Ms. Circe," she added, her blue eyes sparkling. "I want to be a famous singer, just like you. And I just love your hair! Who does it? I wish mine could be like that."

"What is your full name, young lady?"

"Kristina Agua, Ms. Circe." The exchange student ran her fingers through her conventional hairdo while Siren gave Lady Peasoup a knowing glance.

‘This could be the one,’ she thought.

The Siren, however, couldn't help but notice the would-be siren's pierced nose and the small diamond stud in her left nostril. While it bothered the diva, she admired the outrageousness it signified. Siren motioned Lady Peasoup aside.

"This one is a little bit different," Siren whispered to the older woman.

"She is a spitfire, that's for certain," Peasoup noted.

"I think she's perfect. She's brash, she's beautiful and judging by her voice, I'll bet she can sing."

"Well, she's not quite perfect. She's not English."

"I realize that, Penelope, but as a group of our countrymen once sang, you can't always get what you want. She will do just fine, once I've given her a little attitude adjustment."

"Remember, though,” Penelope admonished, “she didn’t come here because she is evil."

The Siren dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. "Once she is transformed, the evil will come naturally. Trust me on that one as well, Lady Peasoup. Besides, she said she’s followed my career. So . . . "

The Siren left the implication hanging as the two of them turned back to the group. Siren addressed her prospective protégée. "Kristina, I'd like you to perform for me your lowest note and your highest note," Siren instructed.

"Sure," the younger woman replied. She sang the low note and Siren nodded in approval. Then she belted her highest note, and Siren clapped a couple of times while the bewitching blonde smiled broadly.

"A C-7 followed by a C-3. Very impressive, young lady," Siren noted. "A range of four octaves is quite good.”

"Thank you, Ms. Circe," she responded. "How wide is your range?"

"Seven."

"Seven?" Kristina stared at Siren in wonderment. "Wow. How is that possible?"

"A lot of hard work," Siren said with a knowing grin, "and a little bit of luck."

"Do you think someday my range could be that large?" Kristina asked, still wide-eyed.

"Anything is possible, my dear. Anything."

The scheming chanteuse conducted brief interviews with the other three young women, but only as a courtesy. Her mind was made up.

"I thank you all for your cooperation," Siren said to the assembled young women, "and I wish I could train more than one of you, but there isn't the time for that. So, Kristina, would you please step forward?"

Kristina put her hands to her face, feigning surprise for everyone. ‘I know I’m the most talented, and the most beautiful to boot. Who else could have been selected?’

Yet she maintained girlish enthusiasm for both her peers, from whom she accepted lukewarm congratulations, and her new mentor. "Oh, thank you so much, Ms. Circe, I can't believe you chose me. I can't wait to get started."

"Meet me in the study at 930 hours tomorrow," Siren instructed, "and we'll start you on your way toward becoming a diva."

"Wow," Kristina said. "Thank you so much."

THE NEXT MORNING, IN WHAT USED TO BE LORD FFOGG'S STUDY

Siren arrived in the room at 9:15 a.m., figuring that would enable her to get there before the eager Kristina. She was wrong.

The aspiring songstress already was there, ready to begin.

"When are we going to start the voice lessons?" Kristina asked.

"Very shortly," Siren replied. "First, however, I want to talk to you about what it means to be a diva."

"OK," Kristina said earnestly. Siren noted she was wearing a navy blue lurex bikini tube top, black jeans, and a diaphanous brown blouse that covered her arms and little else. ‘She is rather rebellious,' Siren decided. Kristina had at least, though, removed the diamond stud from her nose, although she still was wearing earrings. ‘That latter problem can be corrected quickly,’ Siren thought.

"Thank you so much for the personal attention, Ms. Circe," she said.

"A diva must look the part, my dear," Siren responded, walking up to her and stroking Kristina's hair, "and a diva is what you will be."

"Great! When do we start the vocal lessons?"

"Shortly, my dear. First, please sit down. Now, I want you to repeat after me, Kristina."

The blonde beauty curled her upper lip and scrunched her nose. "This seems silly," she said. "Do I really have to?"

"I promise you it will be worth your while," the experienced enchantress said. "Now, let's start over. I am beautiful."

"I am beautiful," Kristina repeated.

"I am talented."

Kristina again repeated the phrase, giggling a little bit.

"I am better than the other girls," Siren instructed, as she began concentrating.

Kristina noticed that Siren's green eyes seemed to begin pulsating, but she felt no urge to get up from the chair. Instead, she continued to repeat the words she was being fed.

"I am better," she said slowly, accenting every word, "than the other girls."

"Divas are always in control."

Kristina parroted the sentence.

"You may stop repeating me, Kristina," Siren said.

Kristina nodded.

"Kristina, I am the Siren, and you are under my control."

"I am under," Kristina's voice quivered, "your control."

"Splendid. You feel safe and warm, isn't that right?"

Kristina nodded again.

"You're not afraid, are you?" her mesmerizing mentor asked.

Kristina shook her head and said, "I am not afraid."

Kristina's head then bobbed again as she became drowsy, and the Siren's scintillating spell took full effect.

"Sleep, Kristina, sleep," Siren commanded.

Kristina nodded her head and closed her eyes as her head drooped.

“Stand up, Kristina,” Siren said.

Again, the aspiring singer obeyed, rising to her feet and placing her hands on her waist.

“Remove your earrings, Kristina.”

“Yes, Siren.” Kristina did as she was instructed.

"Lady Peasoup," Siren called out. "Your presence is needed here."

Peasoup entered the room. "Oh, my," she said, looking at the young blonde, who seemed to be sleeping standing up.

"You see, Lady Peasoup, it's better if she's unconscious. She won't struggle against the bonds that will hold her in place. Who knows? Maybe that's what ruined the experiment when I tried it with Batgirl. Honestly, it wasn't easy putting this young lady under. That makes me even more certain that I chose the right one."

"So what now, Lorelei?"

"Time is of the essence, Penelope. Take your car, round up the rest of the students, as well as this future diva here, and meet me at the Royal Experimental Nuclear Facility in downtown Londinium."

"I say, you want me to drive? What about Basil?"

"Sorry, your Ladyship, but he belongs to me for the time being, as does Clive, your guard at the gate. We will need some muscle for this caper we are about to embark upon. Why should the Siren ever trust a man's loyalty when I can ensure it with one note? It's for the best."

Penelope was somewhat surprised at this development, but certainly not shocked. She wanted to protest, but decided it wouldn't be prudent.

"All right," was all she could muster. Then another question occurred to her. “Can you trust the other students?”

The Siren laughed. “Don’t worry so, Penelope. I looked in on them up in their rooms before I came down here. I’m sure they will be most cooperative.”

Lady Peasoup shuddered slightly. She also reminded herself to be sure her sunglasses were in her purse.

SHORTLY THEREAFTER, AT THE ROYAL EXPERIMENTAL NUCLEAR FACILITY

The guard at the front desk looked up from the security monitors in front of him to see a blonde woman wearing glasses, dressed in a lab coat with the facility's insignia on the left shoulder.

"My name is Dr. Lorelei Frank," she said. "I am here to conduct some experiments with your heavy ion particle accelerator."

"I'm sorry, madam, but I don't see your name on the list of visiting scientists we have scheduled," he said. "And I'll need to see some identification. We can't let just anyone in here."

"Maybe this will help you locate my name," the woman said, just before unleashing a super-sonic note, two octaves above High C.

Siren removed her glasses and smiled at the guard.

"Now, you know who I am, don't you?"

The entranced guard simply nodded.

Siren removed the lab coat, revealing a sleeveless, strapless silver mini-dress.

"Maybe blondes DO have more fun," Siren said, laughing.

She quickly added, "Or maybe not," as she reached up and removed the wig, letting her brown curly locks tumble out.

She spread her arms and smiled. "Now I feel MUCH better," she said, punctuating that exclamation with a deep breath.

She stuffed the coat, wig and glasses into a briefcase, pulled out a cell phone and quickly punched a number.

"Penelope! I need you and your students to come through the front door immediately. I've already sent Basil and Clive to the loading dock. Hurry!"

As soon as her female criminal co-conspirator entered with the students in tow, she directed them to the loading dock. She then re-directed her attention to the guard. He had been staring at her since being hypnotized, and a hungry smile began creasing his face.

"Sir," she began. The beautiful Brit was nothing if not proper. "I want you to put this entire facility into a state of lockdown. That is, except for the loading dock at the back of the building. Is that understood?"

The guard pushed several buttons on the console in front of him. "Your wish is my command.”

"Stupendous!" she exclaimed. "Now, let me have the microphone for the intercom system, would you please?"

"Why, certainly." He did as he was instructed.

"May I have your attention," Siren cooed into the mike. "You all are about to be treated to a musical interlude."

Another super-sonic note later, every man in the building was under her spell. Still, that wasn't enough. She couldn't take any chances.

"If any of you men know of a woman working in your vicinity, please subdue her and bring her to the guard station on the ground floor." Siren added, "Thank you" and then giggled.

Soon, four men appeared, each pair of them escorting a very frightened woman.

"I just adore British efficiency. It's so wonderful to be home," Siren said, before turning her gorgeous gaze to the two females, who, coincidentally, were each wearing lab coats much like the one the Siren had just discarded.

"I'd ask you what your names are, but that's immaterial, no offense. What really matters is that you give me your undivided attention right now, and nobody will be harmed. I promise."

The two women, one a brunette with glasses and one a redhead with contact lenses, were visibly trembling as they looked at their tormentor.

Noticing that, Siren breathed easier. Just as she had learned about her new vocal powers on the fly ten years before when she first had been transformed into the Siren, she now was beginning to understand her newest mind-control abilities. Hypnotizing Batgirl had been so difficult because the Vigilant Vixen was fiercely independent and had no fear, or, at the very least, was adept at not showing it. Subservient or frightened women, however, were easy prey, as these two were.

About two minutes after they began to look at the Siren's glowing, green eyes, both female scientists wore blank expressions.

"I'm glad that's over," Siren said with a sigh. "After all, I need to conserve as much energy as possible right now, because I'll be using a lot of it later."

None of her dazzled dupes reacted to her small joke, but she didn't care. "Oh, wait one moment, everyone. It just occurred to me that I need someone to activate the particle accelerator. Are either of you ladies trained to do that?"

"I am," the brunette said in a monotone.

"Tremendous," Siren answered. "Well, on second thought, now that you will be more useful to me, I'd like to know your name, Ms. . ."

"Collins. Professor Henrietta Collins."

"Nice to meet you. You will come with me."

"Yes, ma'am."

Siren blew a kiss to the men in the room.

"Ta, ta, everyone," she said. "All of you just be quiet for a couple of hours. I think you can handle that. While I, meanwhile, will be changing the course of criminal history."

Siren laughed heartily as she hurried to the loading dock.

Within minutes, Basil and Clive had brought a glass booth downstairs, and, using the instructions provided by their mesmerizing mistress, the two hypnotized henchmen had hooked it up to the particle accelerator.

"Girls!" Siren clapped her hands. "Bring me our soon-to-be siren."

Kate, Gwendolyn, Felicity and Sara walked a still-sleeping Kristina over to the glass enclosure.

"Good, good," Siren approved. "Now use those ropes on her wrists and ankles, so that she won't move too much."

Siren wasn't sure, but she suspected that restraining Batgirl with metal was a mistake. While she didn't care if Batgirl had perished, she had to make sure Kristina survived, no matter what. As the students carried out the villainous vocalist’s orders, she looked at the older woman standing beside her.

"Penny for your thoughts," Siren said, giggling. "Sorry, I've never met a bad pun I didn't fancy. Honestly, Penelope, what are you thinking?"

"I'm just thinking, my dear, that you don't quite look like the prototypical mad scientist."

"Nor do I consider myself one, your Ladyship, but even when I was merely Lorelei Circe, it bothered me that nobody, men especially, could see past all of this," Siren pointed at her face with her right index finger and at her hips with her left one, "and realize that there was more to me than met the eye. Beauty and brains don't have to be mutually exclusive, and I want to be known as a criminal mastermind. If this experiment succeeds, I will be."

"And if it doesn't . . . ?"

"I prefer not to think about that."

The scintillating supervillainess, though, couldn't help herself. ‘What IF it doesn't work? Worse yet, what if my would-be protégée is injured or killed?

‘I don’t have time for such thoughts now.’ She pushed her concerns aside and yelled out, "Ms. Collins, would you be so kind as to activate the particle accelerator?”

"Your wish is my command." The hypnotized woman did as she was instructed.

As the machine came to life, Siren's eyes widened. Finally, the moment she had waited for was about to arrive.

Of course, unlike Batgirl, the spellbound siren-to-be wasn't struggling to escape. Rather, she remained almost motionless, except for some involuntary movements of her arms and legs. As the accelerator neared its capacitance, however, she began to rock back and forth, as electricity started to fill the air.

Finally, the machine reached its peak, and sent a current of electricity rushing through the booth, and through Kristina. Her head shook violently as the current was conducted to her vocal cords. A worried Siren watched as Kristina swayed from side to side. Finally, the accelerator began to cycle down. As it did, a weary Kristina lurched forward, her bonds still holding her tightly in place.

The Siren commanded the scientist to turn off the accelerator. Kristina still was unconscious.

"Ladies, remove your fellow student from her temporary prison," commanded Siren. They obeyed her wordlessly, quickly hustling Kristina up the stairs and out of the building to Siren's van.

Next, she instructed Basil and Clive to remove the glass booth, so as not to leave any evidence. She also ordered Ms. Collins to rejoin her colleagues upstairs.

"Just one more thing for me to do, and our work here is finished, your Ladyship," Siren said. "Would you like to watch?"

"I think I would enjoy that."

"Good. Let's make our way back to the main entrance."

When she got to the main security station, Siren again picked up the microphone to the intercom system.

"Watch this," she said to Peasoup before turning on the mike. "I'm going to try something new.

"I'd like to thank you all for your patience while I was busy with current events," she said to her mesmerized minions. "Unfortunately, the time now has come for me to depart. I wish I could give you all something to remember me by, but the sad truth is you will have no recollection of me whatsoever. A pity for you gents, especially.

"Not only will you all forget what has transpired today, you will replace those missing memories with mundane ones in which you will recall having gone about your boring daily routine. As far as you are concerned, nothing unusual at all has taken place here today. Is that understood?"

The workers all nodded yes.

"You see," Siren put her right hand over the mike and turned to Peasoup, "the Siren never makes the same mistake twice. I was captured after trying a similar caper in Gotham City, and I believe that the amnesia suffered by all the workers cast suspicion upon me. Now there will be no missing time for any of these people, and thus no reason to suspect that I was ever here."

The lascivious lawbreaker laughed as she removed her hand from the microphone. "Everyone will return now to his or her usual work station. While you are doing that, I want all of you to count backward, beginning with the number thirty. When you reach the number one, you will come out of your trance. Begin counting NOW."

As the workers started to count in unison, Siren and Peasoup left.

"Cheerio," Siren said with a wave to the guard at the front desk before disappearing out the door.

Soon, the two English villainesses were standing in a bedroom at Ffogg Place, waiting for Kristina to regain consciousness. Siren had instructed the rest of the students to take long naps. Siren had changed outfits, and once more was in her traditional silver dress with the strap over her right shoulder, as well as her customary horizontal bouffant.

"I say, my dear," Peasoup offered, "How DID you change your hairstyle so quickly?

"Piece of cake, Penelope," Siren replied with a smile. "In fact, I've always been able to do that. Actually, before I tucked them in, your students proved to be quick studies at the art of hairdressing, I must say."

Just then, Kristina began to stir. Siren immediately grabbed a chair and sat next to the bed.

"How do you feel?" Siren asked as the subject opened her eyes.

"Good. Very good," came the reply. Her throat was tingling. It was a sensation like nothing she had experienced before. "I feel kind of, well, different."

"That's to be expected, my dear."

"What's happened to me?"

"Only the greatest event of your life. I have given you the power to transform any man into your slave."

"Wow!" the young blonde exclaimed, her blue eyes dancing. "How can I do that?"

"I'll explain in due time," Siren answered. "First, you and I need to talk."

Siren closed her eyes for a moment and began concentrating. The next step in the plan involved again hypnotizing Kristina, to ensure her loyalty . . . but, no matter how hard the Siren tried, there seemed to be no effect!

"Wow. Did you know your eyes are glowing?" Kristina asked. "That's awesome, Ms. Circe. How do you do that? Can I do that, too?"

Siren looked wide-eyed at her new protégée. The sultry supervillain did not expect this.

Obviously, the experiment had an undesired side effect---she now was immune to the Siren's entrancing eyes!

The beautiful baddie was shocked at this unexpected development, but quickly composed herself, not letting her young charge know something was amiss.

"No, that power is uniquely mine. By the way, you may call me Siren. I will call you by your new name---Sirena."

"Si-what?" her protégée asked.

"I'll say it slowly for you, my dear. Sigh-renna. Sirena. Got it?"

The younger woman thought about it for a moment, and said, "Sirena. That's a cool name. I like it. Now, what about having power over men? How do I do that?"

"Simple. Your vocal cords have been altered by electricity, so that you can reach a note two octaves above High C. That note can stun any man into complete and utter submission, placing him under your control."

Sirena smiled and again said, "Wow," then added, "When can I try it out, Siren?"

"Immediately. Your Ladyship, please bring in your butler. I'm sure he's recovered from his encounter with me earlier today."

Peasoup didn't appreciate being treated like one of the Siren's henchwomen and was about to shoot her domineering partner a nasty glance when she decided that probably wasn't in her best interests. So she kept her thoughts to herself and returned minutes later with Basil.

"What do you need, m'Lady?" he said to Peasoup.

Siren cut in before Peasoup could answer. "Just a male presence, that's all," she said. "Sirena, hit it."

Sirena stood and tried to sing the highest note she had reached in her life. It did sound much higher than any sound that had come out of her mouth before.

Siren, who was blessed with perfect pitch in addition to her many other abilities, immediately recognized that it sounded somewhat different than her highest note. This note, though, was definitely two octaves above High C, just like Siren's.

The three women turned to look at Basil, who was standing in the middle of the room. His eyes were wide open and focused on the young blonde.

"Young miss, your wish is my command," he said.

"Yes!" Siren exulted, raising her bare arms high above her head. "I've done it! I've done it!"

"So, what do I do now?" Sirena asked.

"Give him a command, of course," her mentor replied.

"I don't know," Sirena said. "Oh, OK. On your knees, sir."

Basil knelt in front of Sirena.

"Ohmigod, he did it!" Sirena exclaimed.

"Well, what else did you expect?" Siren said. "You can now do that to any man, at any time."

"I guess now all the guys will have to pay attention to me," Sirena said, as she began thinking about the possibilities.

Siren went over and put her arm around Sirena, who still was standing in front of a kneeling Basil. "Anything you want can be yours.”

"Well, I really want your hairstyle," Sirena said.

"So you shall have it," Siren said, "and a lot more."

Lady Peasoup motioned Siren over to another corner of the room. For once, the hypnotic hedonist accepted someone else's urging.

"This didn't go quite as you planned, did it, my dear?" Peasoup asked.

"No, it did not. I cannot control her, Lady Peasoup. She is, however, still young enough, impressionable enough and pliable enough that she will be in need of a mentor to guide her. Who better than the only person in the world who can relate to what she is going through? Our next move is to see if she can hypnotize a roomful of males."

"And where do you plan to have her do that?"

Siren answered, "At a place where I performed several times as Lorelei Circe, the Cashmere Club in downtown Londinium. I am personally acquainted with the owner, Henry Hurlstone."

"I'm sure you won't have any problem securing a booking for young Sirena."

"Actually, your Ladyship, a few seductive words in my normal voice should do the trick," Siren said. "You know, I was beguiling men long before I was struck by lightning."

Both women smiled knowingly.

"If he, for some reason, doesn't wish to cooperate, I'm sure I can convince him. I'll ring him right now."

The Siren was right. She didn't even need to unleash the full fury of her voice to convince the club owner that a young, beautiful, up-and-coming chanteuse would be the perfect act for his venue on Friday, three days later. All it took was a conventional recommendation from renowned vocalist Lorelei Circe, and Kristina Agua had her first gig.

THREE DAYS LATER, AT THE FASHIONABLE NIGHTSPOT, THE CASHMERE CLUB

Siren wanted to stay in the background at first on this important evening, just because she wasn’t sure how much the local authorities remembered her from her previous escapades before she left several years ago for America. Before setting up Sirena’s concert appearance, she had toyed with the idea of using a fake name for Sirena, but had decided against it.

‘She already has enough on her plate without having to remember ANOTHER name,’ Siren thought.

She looked at Sirena, standing outside the club, and couldn’t help noticing how winsome and innocent the budding diva looked. Most of the henna was gone from her hair, and she was wearing a faux leopard-skin dress, and once again a diamond stud in her nose. While she looked so serene and certainly not tense, she also appeared guileless. ‘Can she really do this?’ Siren wondered.

For the big occasion, as she had requested, Sirena's hair had been done in a style similar to Siren's bouffant, except not quite as long. Otherwise, her fashion sense was radically different from her mentor's. Once inside the club, she changed her outfit for her debut, choosing a two-piece, multi-toned blue number. The top, however, had one nod to the Siren, as the strap went over Sirena's right shoulder, leaving her left shoulder bare. She left her belly button exposed, something Siren never would do while performing in public.

Her nervousness quickly subsided as she began her musical set. The Siren had chosen well---even without the vocal enhancement, Sirena was a gifted singer with a natural stage presence. The audience, both men and women, immediately seemed enthralled with her performance.

It was about 35 minutes into the show when she noticed the Siren looking at her sternly from offstage. Sirena had been coached for the previous three days to know what that glance meant. It was time.

She opened her mouth as wide as she could, and put everything she had into the note. As she let it go, she could feel the power contained in her vocal cords. It lasted a long time, or so it seemed to her, before ending.

Siren looked on, thinking, 'She'll learn that you don't have to expend THAT much energy. Just let it flow naturally.'

Nevertheless, it obviously worked. Sirena looked at the men in the audience, all gazing at her with blank expressions. Even the waiters had paused, trays and plates balanced in one hand, to look at her.

She gripped the microphone with both hands. Her voice still was a bit squeaky, but now overflowing with confidence, even a touch of arrogance.

"You may now call me Sirena. All you men are under my spell," she said, reaching her right arm out to the audience, as if beckoning them. "Isn't that right?"

Every man in the room nodded his head slowly.

"Cool! I guess this is what they mean by girl power!" The young singer grinned broadly and continued, "You will give me all your money and valuables, as well as those of the women with you. Immediately, that is!"

The men began emptying their pockets and grabbing the purses from their wives and girlfriends, and bringing all of their money, watches and jewelry to the blonde beauty.

One woman in the crowd pulled out a cell phone and began dialing.

That bothered Sirena. She didn't want her fun to end so quickly.

"Uh, uh, uh," Sirena said, smiling while waving her right index finger and then pointing. "Nobody is allowed to use the phone while I'm talking. Boys! Make sure this woman is aware of that."

Several men, including her own boyfriend, descended upon the unfortunate woman and restrained her while taking away her cellphone. The one who grabbed it then threw the phone against the wall, smashing it.

"I'd be careful if I were you, ladies," the fledgling enchantress warned. "The next time, that could be somebody's head." She laughed. ‘I can't believe I said that!’ she thought. ‘I would never want to harm anybody.’

No matter. Her bold statement had the desired result, and there wasn't even a hint of an uprising after that.

Siren watched all this from backstage, awestruck at her protégée’s newfound attitude. ‘So that's what I look like,’ she thought.

The stage soon was filled with the generous offerings of the spellbound men, and their unwilling female companions. Siren motioned Gwendolyn, Felicity, Sara and Kate onto the stage, and they stuffed all of the contraband into large laundry bags.

Sirena got on the mike once again.

"I'd just like to thank you all. You've been a wonderful audience. And I'd advise you ladies not to report this to the police right away, if you know what's good for you. Right, boys?"

"Right, Sirena," the men responded in unison, looking angrily at their female companions.

"Bye, now, and thanks again." Sirena, Siren and the students left.

By the time the women in the audience overcame their fear and reported what had transpired, it was too late for Ireland Yard to locate the criminals.

The Londinium Police, though, decided over the weekend to seek some outside help.

"Superintendent Watson, it's good to hear from you again," Commissioner Gordon said early the following Monday.

As luck would have it, the Commissioner's daughter Barbara just happened to be in the office. She had given her father a ride from a tire dealership, as his personal car’s right rear tire had gone flat overnight. Either women’s intuition or news of the bizarre robbery on CNN had led her to come into Police Headquarters with her dad, ostensibly to say hello to Bonnie and Chief O’Hara. Barbara was in the Commissioner’s office when the phone call came through from England.

"Hmmm, that's very interesting, Superintendent. A blonde one, eh? No, we've never run into any arch-criminals that fit that particular description. Perhaps I should transfer you to Lieutenant Diana Mooney. She is in charge of our task force here, and maybe she could give you some advice."

After the Commissioner transferred the call, Babs made sure not to ask him what was up.

She already knew.

From her private office at the library, Barbara called Lieutenant Mooney as Batgirl, and began badgering her for information, as the Caped Crusadress often did.

"I understand you got a trans-Atlantic phone call from Ireland Yard," she said. "It didn't take a lot of sleuthing to figure out what---or who---their problem is. Obviously, the Siren has returned to her native country."

"One of these days, you're going to get me in trouble, you know that?" Diana said in a whisper. "I'd rather not discuss this matter right now."

"Come on, Diana," Batgirl said, "don't put up the blue wall. I didn't want to say this, but, you know, if it weren't for me, you might still be under Siren's thumb."

Batgirl had rescued Lieutenant Mooney, as well as two other officers from the Gotham City Police Department, from being female flunkies under the spell of the Siren.

"Maybe," the Lieutenant grudgingly acknowledged, "but I'd probably be a harp soloist with the Gotham City Philharmonic as well. You've got to admit, I was pretty good. At least, I think I was."

"Agreed. You were very good. Too bad you can't remember any of the lessons Siren gave you."

"That's the truth.” The mutual teasing out of the way, the policewoman got down to business. “OK, here's what Superintendent Watson told me. The Londinium Police had multiple witnesses of a chanteuse at a nightclub using a piercing note to immobilize and hypnotize the males in the audience."

"Well, obviously that's the Siren," Batgirl said.

"Ah, but there's a problem," Mooney replied. "The wives and girlfriends of the victims described a young blonde woman with an American accent. Does that sound like the Siren?"

"Well, no, but I think I have an idea as to what's going on."

"What?"

"Diana, I'll give you some information I never made public. One of the many traps in which I was placed by the Siren involved an attempt to transform me into ANOTHER siren."

"What?! How?"

"Well, I was hooked up to a heavy ion particle accelerator, but the how isn't really important. What matters is that I'm absolutely sure she has performed this experiment again, only this time it was a success."

"That’s just great,” Diana said to herself, as much as to Batgirl. “Now there are two of them! Do you think I should tell Ireland Yard?"

"Sure, Diana, just say an informant gave you a tip." Barbara smiled to herself before adding, "but I don't know how much it will help them. Let’s face it, any male-dominated police force is pretty much ill-equipped to deal with the Siren . . . and now, there’s not one, but two women who can reduce men to Silly Putty just by opening their mouths."

"Not to mention one who now also has power over women,” Mooney added. “Hmm, sounds to me, Batgirl, that you're planning to take a trip."

"Why, whatever makes you say that, Diana?" Barbara answered innocently.

"Because, I know you well enough to realize this has become personal between you and the Siren."

"Oh, and it wasn't personal when she kidnapped two of your officers?"

"Touche." Mooney had gone against procedure in trying to rescue the two officers enslaved by Siren, and had wound up being captured herself. Plus, she had learned a long time ago that dissuading Batgirl from doing just about anything was a losing cause. "Well, you won’t have me there to back you up. Just be careful, all right?"

"When have I not been?" Barbara chuckled and hung up the phone.

When she got home from work, she called her father.

"Daddy, I can't believe I forgot to tell you, but I have to go out of town for a few days. A private collector has a rare book he might be willing to give to the library, but he insists on anonymity and meeting me in person.” Her father raised the expected objections, but she continued, “Don't worry, I'll be fine."

As she spoke with her father, Barbara wondered if he ever suspected her of leading a double life. ‘He has to know there’s more to me than just being a librarian, doesn't he?

‘Or maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to know!’

That, however, was something to ponder another day.

"I love you, Daddy," she said. "I promise, I'll be careful. I'll call you as soon as I get back."

She hung up the phone and began another "conversation."

"Charlie, it appears as if Barbara Wilson will be making a journey to Londinium," Barbara said, addressing her pet parrot and referencing the name on a fake Canadian passport she used for her crimefighting travels, so nobody would notice that Batgirl and Barbara Gordon tended to visit the same places at the same times. The one-time coincidence of both the Dominoed Daredoll and the librarian being in England was enough.

Charlie squawked, as if he knew something was amiss. Barbara was, however, used to that.

She made plans to leave Charlie in the care of her landlady, and began packing. Packing, that is, for two people. Batgirl and Barbara “Wilson,” both of whom needed full wardrobes.

FOUR DAYS LATER, IN DOWNTOWN LONDINIUM

More thievery was going on at Ross and Semple's Jewelers.

Sirena, clad this time in a flowing Greek-style white gown that Siren had given her, walked up to the counter. Her hair still was pulled back into an elaborate, yet short, bouffant. Meanwhile, in the back of the store, Siren was trying to go as unnoticed as a woman clad in a reflective silver mini-gown possibly can.

"I'd like to see some jewels," Sirena said.

"Which ones, madam?" asked one of the salesclerks, trying not to seem taken aback by her unusual appearance.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, giggling. "How about all of them?"

Sirena, who had spent the past several days practicing, unleashed a note two octaves above High C. Unlike when she had done it at the club the week before, though, there was no wasted energy, no extra effort expended. It was quick and it obviously did the trick, as the blank expressions on the two men behind the counter attested.

"OK, I'd like the 14-karat gold diamond necklace, uh, the pink sapphire pendant, the 18-karat platinum ring, oh, and how about the cubic zirconia bracelet," Sirena said, staring at the two entranced salesmen across the counter from her, who quickly began filling her "order," each placing the items Sirena wanted in a large bag.

She added, "Oh, and those emerald earrings over there would go so well with your eyes, Siren. I want those, too! Let's see, what else do I want?"

"Sirena, this is not a jewelry buffet," Siren scolded. "Make up your mind and let's be on our way. We are going to re-sell these on the black market anyway."

"Aw, c'mon Siren," Sirena responded. "What a girl wants, at least what this girl wants, are pretty jewels to wear, not sell."

"It doesn't matter, because you won't be wearing OR selling them where you're going," a voice shouted.

It was Batgirl, who had just burst through a side entrance.

"Wow, Batgirl! I've never seen you in person before," Sirena said, definitely impressed. "How did you find us?"

"Yes, how did you know we'd be here?" Siren said. For once, she was trying to stall Batgirl.

The Distaff Dynamo rarely missed an opportunity to brag to her opponents, so she played into the Siren’s hands, albeit briefly. "The news of your criminal exploits reached me in Gotham City," she noted. "I'm well aware of your taste for jewels, Siren, and figured your apprentice would have a similar appetite . . . and don't bother to try to put me under your sinister spell, because my tinted contact lenses protect me." Batgirl conveniently left out one detail, the fact that this was the fifth jewelry store she had burst into that afternoon.

Sirena's mentor used the time to come up with a plan of action.

"You two, behind the counter," Siren ordered. "Dispose of Batgirl."

Neither man budged.

"Aren't you listening to me, you stupid bloody twits? Get that purple pain in the arse."

Still, neither of them moved. Sudden realization struck the Siren.

‘I can't command them,’ she thought. ‘Only Sirena can, because they're under HER spell.’

"Sirena, order those two to attack Batgirl."

"OK," she said to Siren, and then turned to her temporary slaves. "Can you two please protect me from Batgirl? I think she wants to arrest me. I don't think that would be very much fun."

The two men finally sprang into action, coming out from behind the counter and attempting to attack Batgirl.

As always when squaring off against unwitting henchmen, Batgirl did her best not to hurt them too badly. Still, it only took a couple of minutes before they were on the floor and the Caped Cutie was in her usual, defiant, hands-on-hips position, facing her latest arch-criminal adversaries.

"Once again, it's down to us, Siren," an obviously pleased Batgirl said. "If this girl is indeed your protégée, I'm sure she isn't about to challenge me physically, just as you never have."

"Maybe not, Batgirl," Siren said, looking at her mischievously. "One thing you should know by now about sirens is that we never go quietly. Remember that time when I tried to give you a performance in full stereo sound?"

"So what?" Batgirl said, scrunching up her face and glaring at the Siren.

"Well, maybe we could try that again, only without the equipment." Siren glanced at her young charge. "Sirena, would you like to perform a duet with me?"

Sirena beamed. "It would be an honor, Siren."

Sirena walked over and stood next to Siren. Batgirl slowly removed her hands from her hips and instinctively began backing away. There was, however, nowhere to hide in the small shop as Siren quickly counted down, "Three...two...one."

The combination of the two divas' ear-splitting notes instantly drove Batgirl to a kneeling position, hands over her ears, desperately trying to focus on something else as several display cases in the store shattered. As the Dominoed Daredoll writhed on the floor, she stole a quick look at the two sirens. Neither seemed fazed by the other's shriek.

That wasn't the case for Batgirl, whose head finally slumped to the floor as she fell, unconscious.

Batgirl awoke to find herself in an all-too-familiar position---her wrists and ankles chained to a wall in a dank, dark basement.

She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. ‘This looks very familiar!’ she thought, peering at the bleak walls. She noticed a staircase to her right, and then she knew.

‘I'm in the dungeon of Ffogg Place!’

The Purple Paragon of Virtue heard voices coming down the stairs, and then noticed the footwear.

First, black boots (Lady Peasoup). Then, silver Greek-style sandals (Siren). And then . . .

Skechers?

‘Of course, those belong to Siren's protégée.’ As Sirena followed the two villainesses into the room, Batgirl noticed she hardly was dressed the part of a supervillain, wearing tight blue jeans and a bright red tank top so that she could show off her taut stomach.

"Oh, Batgirl, welcome," Lady Peasoup said. "It's so nice to have you as a guest once more. I take it you've already seen – and heard – my two associates."

Batgirl wasn't interested in talking to her, however, and immediately turned her attention to Siren. "So you finally did it, eh, Siren? Finally created someone in your image. What's it like, playing God?"

"Thanks for asking, my dear. It's quite smashing, finally having someone with which to empathize.

"Look at her," Siren said, pointing to the giggling post-adolescent with the electronically-enhanced voice. Sirena, oblivious to what was going on around her, was practicing her dance moves. "Just think of it, Batgirl,” Siren added. "That could have been you."

"I'm glad it's not, Siren."

"You won't be glad much longer. In fact, you won't be alive much longer."

Peasoup took over and provided the deadly details. "You see, Batgirl, soon we will pump paralyzing fog into the dungeon, similar to the gas that immobilized you in your previous trip to Ffogg Place."

Siren jumped into the conversation. "Wait a second, Penny," she said.

"What is it, Lorelei?"

"It sounds as if you've had Batgirl in this predicament before."

"Yes."

"Well, she's still here."

"My dear Siren," Lady Peasoup said, finally calling her criminal conspirator by her preferred name, "she was rescued by Batman that time. She is not strong enough to get out of these restraints on her own, and Batman is across the pond. There's nothing to worry about. Please, now let me finish briefing Batgirl on her impending death."

Siren's confidence was restored as the Lady of the manor continued.

"Now where was I? Oh, yes. . .Batgirl, this paralyzing fog is improved from the earlier incarnation that you were treated to at the Cricket Pavilion. Once all of your voluntary muscles have been paralyzed, the gas will begin its work on your involuntary muscles. Soon, all of your vital organs will shut down, leaving you a motionless---and rather dead---purple mass."

Batgirl turned to Siren with her usual bravado. "What, no sound waves this time, Siren?"

"Sorry, Batgirl. This is Lady Peasoup's house, after all, so she gets to decide the methods of torture---and death. This is a quite ingenious method, I must say."

Hearing her mentor say the word "death" got Sirena’s attention, and she joined the conversation. "This does seem cruel, Siren. I don't know, couldn't we just have her roughed up? Why does she have to die?" Sirena asked.

Before Siren could open her mouth, Peasoup intervened.

"Because it's survival of the fittest, my dear."

"Right, Sirena," her melodious mentor added. "Put it this way---Batgirl just likes to spoil our fun and we girls can't have that, can we now?"

"I guess not," Sirena said, glumly.

"Obviously, we won't start introducing the gas into the room until the rest of us have left, Batgirl, and the room has been shut airtight," Peasoup said.

"Who knows, Batgirl," Siren said, "maybe my protégée and I will return to America at some point. Or maybe we will make ourselves a royal nuisance here. The sky, I daresay, is the limit for us. While your end is quite, quite near."

"I've gotten out of all of your traps before," Batgirl boasted, "and I'll find a way to do it again."

"Just keep believing that, dear," Peasoup said. "Shall we go, ladies?"

The two sirens nodded before the three of them began to climb up the stairway.

The question was addressed as much to herself as to Siren.

"I would if I were you, your Ladyship," Siren responded. She didn't volunteer the fact that her failure to remove Batgirl's belt enabled the Caped Crusadress to escape from Siren's giant harp trap back in Gotham City. Siren wouldn't admit something like that, and risk looking weak in the eyes of her new protégée.

Lady Peasoup made her decision quickly, as she reached down, unbuckled Batgirl's utility belt and removed it from the heroine's waist.

Peasoup waved the belt at Batgirl before slinging it over her shoulder. "I suppose you've got a gas mask, radio transmitter, fan or some other device in here. Now, even if you do get free, it won't do you any good."

"Come on, ladies," Penelope said, bounding up the steps. "We'll bolt and lock the door to the dungeon. Then, soon, we can come back and observe Batgirl's corpse!"

Back to the Batgirl Bat-Trap Homepage!