CMtwaa National Park was once the exclusive hunting grounds of the country’s ruling class. But now the sprawling forests and grasslands, nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas, were a nature preserve encompassing nearly a thousand square kilometers. Monkeys chattered in the leafy branches of evergreen sal trees while Bengal tigers stalked through shoulder-high elephant grass. Birdsong competed with the shrill laughter of the monkeys.
Chitwan was also home to one of the world’s last remaining populations of the endangered one-horned Indian rhinoceros. Flying through the air alongside Eclipso, Mary spied a small family of rhinos grazing peacefully in a grassy meadow near a muddy watering hole. The ungainly beasts looked vaguely prehistoric. Their wrinkled hides hung in folds upon their massive frames. The curved horns of the adults pointed upward at the clear blue sky.
Unfortunately, the tigers weren’t the only predators prowling the brush. Armed poachers, equipped with automatic rifles, crept stealthily toward the unsuspecting rhinos, whose horns were valued on the black market due to their allegedly curative properties. The greedy poachers no doubt hoped to make a killing, in more ways than one.
Not if I have anything to say about it, Mary thought angrily. She and Eclipso kept the sun behind them, so that the fierce glare masked their approach from the gun-wielding hunters below. “Talk about slimeballs,” Mary muttered. Didn’t these creeps know that there were less than three thousand Indian rhinos left in the world?
“Go ahead, dear,” Eclipso encouraged her. Jean raised her feathered cloak to shield her face from the sun; the daylight seemed to disagree with her. “Show these mortal swine the error of their ways.”
With pleasure, Mary thought. She swooped down toward the poachers even as the men were drawing aim on their defenseless prey. Intent on their targets, they didn’t even notice Mary flying above them—until bolts of mystic lightning shot from her fingertips.
The sizzling blasts did not incinerate the men; Mary was more creative than that. Instead she instantly shrank the poachers to the size of squirrels. Lost in the folds of their own oversized clothing, the miniaturized poachers had to scramble to avoid being crushed beneath their own rifles. Their squeaky cries were barely audible.
Serves you right, Mary gloated. Not so tough without your big scary guns, are you?
The freak lightning also startled the wildlife below. Flocks of frightened woodpeckers and hombills launched themselves into the air, while agitated monkeys jabbered noisily. The alarmed rhinos, unaware of their close brush with death, fled in panic, stampeding straight toward the transformed hunters. Mary grinned at the hilarious sight of the tiny naked figures running like mad to avoid being trampled by the pounding hooves of their onetime prey. The discarded rifles were smashed to pieces by the rhinos, who proved that they could run surprisingly fast when motivated to do so. Faster than the little poachers’ doll-sized legs?
Maybe.
Mary briefly considered rescuing the shrunken hunters from the rhinos’ path. She didn’t actually want them to get crashed to death. Did she?
“Brilliantly done, Mary,” Eclipso congratulated her, “You’re developing a flair for poetic justice. You turned the tables on those cowardly vermin quite effectively.”
“Thanks!” Mary basked in her new friend’s praise, forgetting all about the micro-poachers’ plight. At least somebody appreciated what she was doing these days. Just this morning, in fact, Mary had defended thousands of acres of virgin rain forest from shortsighted loggers and developers. There were over a hundred new trees along the Amazon now, all with anguished human faces. “It feels so good, Jean. So liberating to cut loose with my powers like this.”
They soared away from the park, leaving the shrunken poachers to their fate. “That’s how it should always feel,” Eclipso assured her. “A few more lessons from me, and you’ll be ready.”
“Ready for what?” Mary asked. This wasn’t the first time Eclipso had alluded to some special destiny awaiting Mary.
Eclipso smiled coyly. “All in good time, dear.” PH1A0ISE ISLAND.
Paradise Island was hardly living up to its name.
If the Athenian Women’s Shelter had been like a luxury hotel, Themyscira was turning out to be more like boot camp. Or so Holly thought as she busted her butt to complete yet another agonizing obstacle course. Flames erupted along the edges of the track, adding to the sweltering heat of the noonday sun. Holly’s chiton was soaked with sweat. Her bare feet pounded against the rough gravel track.
“Keep moving, all of you!” an Amazon drill sergeant berated them from atop a wooden guard tower. The looming towers and barbed wire fences enclosing the training grounds made their new home feel more like a prison than a refuge. Ugly steel barracks and mess halls contrasted sharply with the lovely palaces and temples Holly had glimpsed from offshore. She and the other new recruits had been on the isle for at least a week now, and she had yet to set foot in anything resembling Paradise. “Is that the best you can do, you useless sows? You’re pathetic!”
“That’s Ms. Pathetic to you,” Holly muttered as she dropped to the ground and wriggled beneath rolls of coiled razor wire. The jagged gravel scraped her knees and elbows. The back of her tunic snagged on a metal barb, which dug into the skin underneath. Holly winced, but kept on crawling forward on her belly. She was starting to wish that she had never heard of Athena....
“C’mon, red,” Harley Quinn called back to her. Ahead of the pack, the pixieish blonde sprang back onto her feet oft the other side of the razor wire. Typically, Harley was treating the hellish ordeal like a lark. Glancing back over her shoulder, she grinned encouragingly at Holly. “Compared to prowling around Gotham with Catwoman, this should be a sleepwalk!”
“Your lips to my feet,” Holly replied, panting in exertion. At this point, she no longer flinched whenever Hailey alluded to Holly’s colorful past. Gotham City and the rest of what the Amazons referred to as “Man’s World” seemed thousands of miles away. Her fugitive status wasn’t even an issue anymore. As far as she knew, Themyscira had no extradition treaty with the United States....
So how come it feels like I’m doing time anyway?
Just beyond the razor wire, a mountainous sand dune awaited them. Harley charged up the forty-five-degree slope with Holly right behind her, struggling to keep up. Rumor had it that Harley’s former BFF, Poison Ivy, had enhanced Harley’s athletic abilities with some sort of herbal concoction of her own devising. Watching Harley blithely scale the dune, Holly was inclined to believe it. Running uphill through the shifting sand proved incredibly exhausting; Holly’s own legs felt like lead. She heard the rest of the girls gasping and wheezing behind her. “Oh man, this is murder!” a breathless voice exclaimed. “It’s too much!”
Holly looked back to see Tricia feebly battling the hill. The young black woman was a distant third behind Holly and Harley. The remainder of the initiates hadn’t even cleared the razor wire yet, let alone made it to the dune. Stalled halfway up the slope, her whole body sagging, Tricia looked like she was on the verge of giving up.
Not a good idea, Holly thought. Their Amazon hosts frowned on failure; Tricia would be lucky to get fed tonight if she didn’t complete the course. “You can do it, Trish!” Holly shouted. “Use your momentum!”
“Easier said than done!” Tricia grunted. Still, she took a deep breath, reached down deep, and came up with a fresh burst of speed that carried her another few yards up
* the slope. For a moment. Holly thought that Tricia might catch up with her, but then the other woman’s feet slid out from under her and she went tumbling down the hill, churning up a huge cloud of sand as she lost all the ground she had made before finally coming to rest at the very base of the hill, where she collided with Marta, a refugee from Bludhaven’s gang scene, who had just made it past the razor wire. The two women collapsed into a tangle of sweaty limbs. “Dammit!” Holly cursed in sympathy.
“On your feet!” A female warrior, in full armor, showed the fallen women no mercy. She prodded them with the blunt end of her lance, “An Amazon never surrenders!”
Holly paused at the crest of the hill, tempted to lend Tricia and Marta a hand. Her hesitation did not go over well with the drill sergeant in the tower. “Keep moving!” the Amazon barked. “What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation from Olympus?”
“But...” Holly gestured at the floundering women below. What about teamwork and sisterhood?
“Every woman for herself!” the sergeant bellowed. She pointed to the dense woods beyond the sand dune. Holly saw Harley waiting for her at the bottom of the hill. “Into the brush, you two! Go! Go! GO!”
Holly got the message. Reluctantly abandoning Tricia and Marta, she scrambled down the opposite side of the dune to join Harley at the edge of the forest. Together they plunged into the thick underbrush. Inhospitable branches and leaves scratched against Holly, adding to the numerous small nicks and abrasions stinging her sun-baked hide. Gnarled roots threatened to trip her. Sunlight filtered down through the leafy canopy overhead. Drenched in sweat, she pined for the comfy hot tubs and saunas back at the women’s shelter. At her new digs in the initiates’ spartan barracks, ice-cold showers were the only amenities. “For this, I kicked ass in the arena?” she griped aloud. “Remind me to flunk next time.”
Harley merrily led the way. She whistled a Disney tune aS'she plowed through the verdant foliage; if there was actually a trail through the brush, Holly couldn’t see it. Tall pines and laurel trees blocked her view. Thorny bushes grabbed at her tunic. Small animals scurried through the brush. “C’mon, admit it,” Harley teased her. “This is exhilarating!”
“You think?” Holly said dubiously. A displaced tree branch came whipping back toward her face and she ducked beneath it just in time. She tried to remember what sort of venomous reptiles had infested ancient Greece. Wasn’t Orpheus’s bride killed by a nasty snake?
“Sure!” Harley chirped. Annoyingly, she wasn’t even breathing hard. “This is us, Holly ... doing what we want, instead of being defined by someone else.”
Holly wasn't so sure. Sometimes she suspected that Harley had merely transferred her blind devotion to the Joker to Athena instead. She sure seemed to have bought into the Amazon party line. Once a follower, always a follower.
But am I really all that different?
“Ooh! Check this out!” Harley enthused as they reached the perimeter of the training grounds, as marked by a chain-link fence topped by coiled razor wire. A narrow path ran along the base of the fence. Holly guessed that it circled back to the beginning of the obstacle course. She expected Harley to turn onto the path, but the blonde surprised her by running full-bore toward the fence.
“Harley?” Holly slowed to a trot, completely bewildered as to what her nutty new acquaintance was up to now. “Where ...?”■
“Adventure beckons!” Springing into the air, Harley caught hold of an overhanging laurel branch and used it to flip herself over the top of the fence, clearing the razor wire by a matter of inches. She touched down lightly onto the ground on the other side of the fence. “Hah! They call that a wall? Back at Arkham, that wouldn’t even stop Tweedledum and Tweedledee!”
Holly stared at Harley through the chain-link fence.
' “You’re going AWOL?” ' "
“I’m living life on my terms!” Harley exulted. She beckoned for Holly to follow her. “For the first time ever!” I’m not sure this is such a good idea, Holly thought. Athena and her lieutenants had declared the rest of the island off-limits to the newcomers. Then again, maybe it was worth the risk to find out just what, if anything, Athena might be hiding beyond the fence? And far be it from me to discourage Harley from showing a little independent thought....
Sighing in resignation, Holly launched herself at the same branch Harley had employed only moments before. Hours of gymnastics practice back in Gotham paid off as she successfully duplicated her cohort’s acrobatic feat, nailing the landing just like a cat. Harley applauded loudly, obviously delighted that Holly had chosen to accompany her, and took off into terra incognita. Holly tagged along after her, hoping that she hadn’t made a dreadful mistake. She wondered how long it would take the Amazons to figure out that she and Harley had strayed from the path, and what exactly the penalty was for desertion.
What’s the Amazon equivalent of a firing squad?
Past the fence, the terrain rose steeply toward a range of rocky hills. The uphill climb was a challenge after the arduous obstacle course, but Holly took comfort in the fact that they would be heading downhill on the way back. Perhaps the altitude would afford them a good view of the rest of the island? The prospect kept Holly trudging upward, even though her throat was parched and she would have killed for a bottle of cold water. She kept her eyes peeled for any fresh streams or springs. Her stomach grumbled.
“Look!” Harley pointed excitedly at a shadowy cleft at the base of a granite cliff face. Darkness swallowed up the sunlight just beyond the lip of the opening. “A cave! Just like you-know-who’s!”
Holly knew whom Harley was referring to. Selina had been known to visit the Batcave on occasion, although 'Holly had never personally wangled an invite from the Dark Knight. She doubted, though, that the nameless cave ahead held anything half as impressive as Batman’s secret headquarters. “So?”
Harley insisted on seeing for herself. “Let’s explore!” “You’re kidding, right?”
Harley smartly saluted the cave opening. “Junior Spe-lunker Harleen Quinzel, present and accounted for!” “Not kidding,” Holly realized glumly. She tried in vain to sound a note of reason. “Just for the record, this is an incredibly bad idea. Two unarmed women entering a pitch-black cave.” She shook her head at the fact that they were actually contemplating such a foolhardy move. “That always goes well in the movies.”
“See,” Harley replied. “So there’s no worries.” She marched briskly into the darkness. “C’mon.”
Clearly, Harley had never seen The Descent. “Sarcasm’s completely lost on you, isn’t it?” Holly asked as she bowed to the inevitable and followed Harley into the cave. Probably full of bat guano or bears, she thought crankily. She strained her eyes to see into the gloom. All she could make out at first was a dimly lit grotto that ap-
WN m
peared to extend deep into the hillside. The sudden shade chilled her sweaty flesh. Goose bumps broke out across her skin.
Harley seemed disappointed by Holly’s lack of enthusiasm. “What kind of a sidekick are you, red?”
Sidekick? Holly thought indignantly. When did I become your sidekick? She let her eyes adjust to the murky interior of the cave. Stalactites jutted down from the ceiling like dragon’s teeth, and Holly had to duck to avoid bumping her head into one of the calcite fangs. Sleeping bats rustled overhead. She heard water dripping deeper within the cavern and debated whether it was worth looking for in the dark. Naturally, neither of them was equipped to go caving. They didn’t even have a matchbook between them, let alone a flashlight.
She dimly glimpsed Harley’s outline ahead of her. •“You do realize we can’t go back now. We’ve been gone too long. They’ve got to know we’re missing by now.” Harley shrugged. “You worry too much. We’re on a magic island, Holly! Maybe we’ll find a flying carpet, or a lamp with one of those genie things inside!”
“Wrong culture,” Holly pointed out, treading carefully over the uneven floor. “Try a winged horse, or Pandora’s box, or...” Her voice trailed off as she heard herself playing along with Harley’s magical treasure hunt fantasy. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you!” Harley gave no indication that she was listening to Holly. “Yowza!” she exclaimed. “Get a load of this!” Indirect sunlight, invading the cavern from outdoors, exposed a sizable cache of Amazonian gear. Swords, spears, shields, battle-axes, scrolls, a bedroll, armor, a quiver of arrows, a bow, and amphorae of various shapes and sizes were stacked haphazardly against the rugged wall of the cavern. Peering at the supplies, Holly saw at once these were no long-forgotten artifacts. Everything looked new and in excellent condition. The blades and arrowheads were freshly sharpened and free of rust. No dust had settled on the various pots and vases.
Harley reached the obvious conclusion. “Somebody’s living here!”
“Indeed.” A lurking figure lunged from the stygian depths of the cave. Striking with exceptional strength and speed, their attacker sent Holly flying across the grotto with a single blow, while simultaneously knocking Harley off her feet with a sweep of her arm. Armor jangled loudly. An unsheathed sword flashed in the dim lighting.
“Holy—!” Harley gasped as she hit the ground hard. “Did somebody get the license number of that Bat-mobile?”
“Harley, focus!” Holly snatched a sword from the piled gear and jumped to her feet. She tossed a spear to Harley, who wasn’t too dazed to snag it from the air. The two runaways took up defensive postures, raising their weapons against... who?
* Their foe stepped into the light, revealing a striking, raven-haired woman clad in ornate golden armor and sandals. A cloak of imperial purple was clasped to her shoulders by a pair of intricately detailed gold brooches. An eagle motif was emblazoned upon the woman’s gleaming breastplate. A silver girdle circled her waist. A golden tiara, studded with rubies and sapphires, crowned her regal brow. Although she appeared older than either Holly or Harley, perhaps in her early fifties, her face had a timeless beauty that looked vaguely familiar. Nor had her age diminished her obvious fitness and vitality. Holly got the distinct impression that this woman could wipe up the floor with both of them without even trying.
“Hades beckons, false Amazons!” she denounced them angrily. Her own sword stood poised for combat. “Soon you will know it all too well!”
False Amazons?
“Whoa! Time-out!” Holly protested. “We’re not with those Amazon chicks out there.”
“Yeah!” Harley confirmed. “We kinda quit their stupid club!”
The fury in the older woman’s eyes was replaced by a more thoughtful expression. She eyed Holly and Harley warily. The tip of her sword dipped slightly. She nodded toward the cave entrance—and the training grounds beyond. “Those are not Amazons.”
“Yeah, we’re tumbling to that,” Holly said. She had been suspicious of this whole setup since day one. What kind of mythical sisterhood increased its ranks by putting homeless young women through hell? That hardly sounded like the kind of culture that would produce someone like Wonder Woman.
“My own people have departed the mortal realm,” the armored stranger declared. “I alone remain in penance for past sins. I know not where these imposters hail from, but they are not of the sisterhood.”
Okay, Holly thought. Now we’re getting somewhere. 'This woman sounded like she might be able to help them get some answers as to what was really going on here. She cautiously lowered her sword. “We cool?”
The woman returned her blade to its scabbard. “Were you lying, I would know. Were you lying, you would be dead.”
Holly gulped. “Good to know.”
“What makes you so sure those Amazons are bogus?” Harley asked.
The formidable stranger addressed them solemnly. “I am Hippolyta, Queen of Amazons. I know my own kin.” Of course! Holly realized why the woman’s face seemed so familiar. She’s Wonder Woman’s mother. Now that she knew what to look for, Holly could see the family resemblance. She thought she remembered reading that Hippolyta had died a few years back, but apparently the reports of the Amazon queen’s death had been somewhat exaggerated.
But what’s she doing hiding out in a cave on her own island?
“So even this Athena is bogus?” she asked.
“Athena?” Hippolyta’s voice dripped with scorn. “She still calls herself Athena?”
“Duh!” Harley answered. “Where you been, living in a cave?” She glanced around. “Oh. Right.”
Hippolyta disregarded Harley’s babbling. “Athena,” she repeated darkly. “There is irony in that.”
Holly didn’t get it. “How so?”
A cold smile played upon Hippolyta’s lips. “She has taken the name of the goddess of wisdom.” Her hand rested on the pommel of her sword. “None who dares trespass against me can truly be called wise.”
Holly was suddenly very glad to be on Hippolyta’s good side. The Queen of the Amazons was obviously no one you wanted to mess around with.
“Hey!” Harley blurted. “If that’s not really Athena, then who’ve I been busting my hump for?”
* Good question, Holly thought.
Hippolyta held up her hand abruptly. “Quiet!” She swiftly retrieved the bow from her armory and plucked an arrow from the quiver. She spun to face the mouth of the cave, where an enormous black dog suddenly filled the entrance. Drool spilled from its massive snout as it sniffed at the ground. A spiked collar girded its thick neck. A low snarl reached Holly’s ears.
Crap! Holly recognized the beast as one of the savage warhounds Athena’s lieutenants used to patrol their encampment. On occasion, the guard dogs had even been employed to “motivate” the initiates to run faster during training. Holly had vivid memories of the fierce canines nipping at her heels while heartless women warriors yelled at her to pick up the pace. No doubt the phony Amazons had set the dogs to track her and Harley down.
Ami people wonder why I'm more of a cat person! Picking up their scent, the warhound bounded into the cave. Rubbery black lips peeled back, baring the beast’s yellow fangs. It charged at them like Ace the Bat-Hound’s meaner brother.
Hippolyta let loose her arrow, which thwacked into the dog’s snout, narrowly missing its eye. The warhound growled in anger and kept on coming. Leaping at Hip-polyta, it clamped its jaws around the bow and wrenched it from her grip.
“Bad doggie!” Harley scolded. “Bad! Bad!”
The warhound snapped the bow in two and spit the pieces onto the floor of the cave. It whirled around to attack Hippolyta once more. Holly didn’t think she could get to the dog before it tore the queen’s throat out, so she hurled her sword like a throwing knife. The blade sank into the beast’s shoulders, eliciting a furious yelp from the enraged hound. Forgetting Hippolyta for the moment, it turned on Holly, who found herself unarmed against the bloodthirsty canine.
“Oh, come on!” she complained to no one in particular. “How is this fair?”
' * But before the beast could lunge at her, Hippolyta snatched the spear from Harley’s grasp and vaulted across the cavern. Gravity added to the force of her thrust as she drove the point of the spear deep into the warhound’s skull while alighting upon the ground. The monstrous dog convulsed once before dropping lifelessly at the queen’s feet. She nodded in satisfaction as she wrested the spear from the dead hound’s corpse.
“This breed has proven difficult to slay,” she observed calmly. Canine blood spattered her face and armor.
“Not your first?” Holly guessed, grateful to be alive.
A look of weariness came over the queen’s noble features. ‘There have been others,” she conceded. She nudged the bloody carcass. “This one was set on your trail. There will be more.”
“There’s a piece of good news,” Holly said drily, not that she hadn’t figured the same. Wouldn’t you know it? I’m a fugitive again.
Harley dropped to her knees beside the vicious brute that had nearly killed them. Her eyes were moist as she stroked the dead dog’s fur. “Poor puppy ..
Hippolyta regarded Harley with puzzlement. “Is that one well?” she asked Holly. “She shows no outward sign of combat trauma, and yet...”
“Let’s not go there,” Holly recommended. They had more urgent problems to deal with than Harley’s questionable sanity. “They’ve got a small army of those warhounds back at the camp. If they’re all after us... ?” She didn’t need to complete the thought. “Don’t suppose you have a boat handy?”
Hippolyta shook her head. “You wouldn’t be the first to try to escape. It never ends happily.”
Holly remembered the sea monsters prowling just beyond shore. “I’ll bet.” She glanced around the cave, which didn’t really seem large enough to hide all three of them on a permanent basis. “Any other ideas?”
The Amazon queen pondered the matter. “Perhaps, if you are glib enough, there is a way you can return without fear of execution ... and be of some use to me.”
“I’m listening,” Holly said.
Hippolyta indicated the carcass on the floor. “Were you to return with this kill, and a thrilling tale of initiative taken ...” She peered into Holly’s eyes to ensure that the younger woman took her meaning. “The pretender and her acolytes tend to look favorably on blood sports. And I could make use of eyes that see from within her ranks.” She wants us to be her spies, Holly realized. Undercover Amazons.
Harley contemplated the massive corpse. “I dunno. Looks awful heavy.”
“You won’t need the entire carcass,” Hippolyta assured them.
She raised her sword high....
Night, or what passed for night in the smoldering Ar-magetto, had fallen by the time a bizarre-looking figure furtively crawled out of the blazing Fire Pit. Dark green scales, each as thick as a tortoise’s shell, covered Jimmy’s body, shielding him from the all-consuming flames, just as they had for hours now while he hid within the pit. Gouts of bright orange flame escaped his lips every time he exhaled. Intricate designs, like circuit diagrams, were etched into his fireproof shell.
How ’bout that? Jimmy thought. Looks like my crazy plan worked after all. Just as he’d hoped, his unpredictable powers had activated in time to spare him from total incineration. Granted, he hadn’t expected to transform into some sort of fire-breathing turtle-man, but he wasn’t about to complain. Better a reptile than a pile of ashes.
Peering out through the smoke and flames, he scanned the ugly industrial complex beyond the pit. The overslavers and their wretched charges seemed to have retired for the evening, or perhaps they had simply moved on to feed another pit. In any event, the coast was clear. Jimmy took advantage of their absence to scuttle away from the smoky inferno behind him. Crouching low, and clinging to the shadows, he located a ventilation shaft leading into one of the megalopolis’s many weapons factories. His scaly hands pried open the hatch and he crawled inside the shaft. A low ceiling forced him to stoop uncomfortably as he made his way down the horizontal vent. His fiery exhalations lit his way through the darkness. He fretted about setting off some sort of sprinkler system, but then again, that assumed that Darkseid actually cared about the safety of his slave labor.
Okay, first things first, he thought, as he paused to consider his next move. How do I get off this crummy planet-before Darke id’s goons find out that I’m still alive? The key was finding Forager. She brought me here. She can darn well get me home, if only I can find her.
' * Maybe this way? He started moving forward again, driven by an inexplicable certainty that he was heading in the right direction. He couldn’t explain how he knew this, but he felt strangely confident that Forager was up ahead somewhere. Another facet of his puzzling new abilities, or just wishful thinking on his part? The circuitry inscribed upon his shell began to emit a faint golden glow, which steadily increased in intensity the farther he proceeded. Jimmy chose to take that as a good sign.
He crept stealthily through an intricate maze of vents, service tunnels, and other conduits. The rumble of heavy machinery reverberated ceaselessly in the background. Periodic gusts of hot air and exhaust made him grateful for his impervious exoskeleton. Occasionally he heard footsteps in the corridors outside the tunnels. Jimmy froze and held his breath until the unseen guards or servants passed. Alien rodents, twice the size of Terran rats, hissed angrily at the fire-breathing intruder before scurrying in retreat. Greasy lubricants and industrial waste dripped onto his head and shoulders, streaking his shell. The cramped passageways smelled like gasoline and brimstone.
Jimmy recalled his nauseating trek through Project
Cadmus’s sewers. How come I keep ending up as a tunnel rat?
The booming machinery gradually receded into the distance. The glowing circuitry grew ever brighter. Jimmy sensed that he had progressed from the factories into Darkseid’s gloomy palace. But where was Forager? An itch at the back of his brain guided him to a vertical shaft that led to a rusty metal grate many yards above Jimmy’s head. A trickle of turquoise liquid dripped down the ladder before him.
Forager’s blood?
Jimmy climbed the ladder. The bars of the grate were slick with the alien fluid. Jimmy lifted it just enough to peek out into the chamber above. Please, he prayed. No Parademons or overslavers, please . . .
“Forager!”
' 'His insectile traveling companion was shackled to a canted metal rack, like a butterfly mounted for display. Although scratched and blackened in places, her chitin-ous armor appeared more or less intact, suggesting that she hadn’t been tortured too severely yet, but fresh blood continued to seep from a wound in her shoulder. Jimmy remembered her being zapped by a Parademon’s laser-rifle during their initial battle with Darkseid’s strike force. He could hear her panting raggedly beneath her helmet. All six wings were retracted.
To his relief, she appeared to be alone in the dismal torture chamber, which was crowded with elaborate metal apparatus whose sadistic functions Jimmy didn’t want to think too hard about. Being careful not to let the metal grate clang loudly onto the floor, he shoved it aside and hurried over to the upright rack. Forager’s helmet concealed her expression. Jimmy couldn’t tell if she was conscious or not.
“Hang on!” he said. “Let me get you out of there!”
He started to gently remove Forager’s helmet. “Thank God you’re still alive...
And, he discovered to his surprise, strangely gorgeous.
Glossy purple filaments, resembling human hair, swept 211 fiais cox
across the top of her head. The elegant planes of her face had a lustrous vermilion sheen. Multifaceted compound eyes sparkled like polished yellow crystals. There was only the slightest hint of a nose, but her lilac-colored lips were plump and inviting. Slender antennae rose from her flowing purple locks.
Her alien beauty threw Jimmy off balance. Cool your hormones, he scolded himself. She’s a human-sized bug for crying out loud!
He rapidly undid the clasps binding her wrists and ankles. Weakened by her ordeal, she slumped forward. He reached out to catch her. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’ve got you.”
“O-Olsen?” she said weakly, sounding dazed and disoriented. Her antennae tilted toward him.
“That’s right.” He propped her up as she tottered upon shaky legs. Their close contact made it hard to concentrate on the business at hand. A honeyed fragrance tantalized his senses. “It’s me, your pal Jimmy.”
“Olsen!” Without warning, she lunged at him, knocking him backward onto the floor. Straddling him, she seized his throat with both hands and began squeezing the life out of him. Adrenaline, or the insect equivalent, boosted her strength, so that she suddenly seemed as fierce as ever. Jimmy’s eyes bugged from his sockets. He gasped for breath. “Kill you! Must kill you!” she chanted, as though brainwashed. “Jimmy Olsen must die!”
“Forager, stop!” he wheezed. Her powerful hands clamped down on his windpipe; unable to breathe fire, the best he could manage was a few faint sparks. “What are you doing?”
He tried to shake her off, but her grip was like a vise. “Kill you... kill,” she repeated over and over, while buzzing like an angry wasp. “Must kill you!”
Jimmy’s arms went elastic, wrapping around her from behind and pulling her off him. He sucked in the fetid anas her fingers came away from his throat. His scaly limbs encircled Forager like the coils of a boa constrictor, binding her arms to her sides, yet she continued to writhe violently within his grasp as he scrambled to his feet. It took all his strength just to hold on to her.
He had no idea what had come over her. Why’s she so mad at me ? It wasn ’t my idea to star her in a sci-fi version o/'Hostel. “Stop it, Forager. You’ve got to snap out of this!” At first, he didn’t seem to be getting through to her. Then, to his surprise, the circuitry embedded in his scales emitted a brilliant flash that lit up the entire chamber. Even stranger, the light show was accompanied by a series of electronic pings that seemed to be coming from inside his very skull. What in the world? Jimmy thought. Now what?
The dazzling flash had an immediate effect on Forager. She stopped fighting back against Jimmy’s pliable arms and shook her head in confusion. Her antennae twitched
• back and forth before turning again toward Jimmy. He saw his own reflection multiplied in her compound eyes. “Jimmy?” she said uncertainly, as though truly seeing him for die first time,
“Maybe,” he replied. With his scaly skin, elongated aims, glowing circuits, and beeping skull, he barely recognized himself. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
She scrutinized his transformed appearance with obvious fascination. Her gaze traced the complicated pattern of the circuitry etched upon his body. She listened carefully to the last few pings before they faded away. “Was that... ?” She sounded like she could barely believe what she was thinking. “Where did you get a Mother Box?”
The question startled Jimmy. A Mother Box, he knew, was a kind of living computer often employed by the New Gods. Among other things, they could be used to summon Boom Tubes of the sort that had transported him and Forager to Apokolips in the first place. But what does that have to do with what’s happening to me?
“I don’t have a Mother Box,” he insisted. He wondered if Forager’s own ability to produce a Boom Tube had been disabled by her captors. Probably, he figured. They wouldn% want her teleporting out of here.
“But...” she protested.
Come to think of it, Jimmy thought, Mother Boxes ping just like I did. He shrugged his shoul ders, not ready to cope with yet another mystery. “I know.” Frustration soured his voice. “Just chalk up another one for Jimmy Olsen, boy freak.” He released his hold on Forager. “I’m just glad whatever happened calmed you down.”
“Forgive me, my Earth-bug,” she said sheepishly. “The only way I could deal with the pain they were inflicting on me was to go into a waking trance.” She winced as her fingers delicately explored the bleeding wound in her shoulder. “I was simply protecting myself on instinct.”
He thought that over. “And your instinct was to kill me? Nice.”
* “Yes,” she admitted. “I... I have no excuse.”
“Whereas I have no use for excuses,” a third voice interrupted.
Jimmy and Forager spun around to see a smirking, middle-aged woman enter the dungeon. Her gaunt, haggard face reminded Jimmy of Margaret Hamilton in The Wizard of Oz, only without all the green greasepaint and warts. A ruffled green velvet gown, with a high collar, gave her a faintly medieval look. A matching cape was clipped to her heavily padded shoulders. Lacquered black hair met in a widow’s peak atop her high forehead, as well as rising in hornlike peaks above her temples. A cruel smile evoked generations of mercilessly strict schoolteachers and librarians.
“Bemadeth!” Forager buzzed angrily.
Oh great, Jimmy thought. I remember her now. Bemadeth was one of the Female Furies, an elite corps of warrior women and assassins devoted to Darkseid himself. Plus, as if that wasn’t scary enough, she was also the sister of Desaad, and said to be just as vicious as her sadistic brother.
“Better you had killed this mortal,” she informed Forager, “than let him live to sample my charms.” She drew a
two-foot-long blade from a sheath at her side. The doubleedged weapon glowed radioactively.
Jimmy stepped in front of Forager, shielding her with his body. “Sheeshl” he exclaimed. “Where does Darkseid dig up these nightmares!”
“Watch out, Jimmy!” Forager grabbed on to his arm from behind, as though afraid he might do something foolish—like maybe take on the sword-wielding hag unarmed. “Beware her fahren-knifel It bums her victims from the inside out!”
Judging from the quaver in her throaty vibrato, she was speaking from personal experience. Jimmy’s blood boiled at the thought of Bemadeth torturing Forager in this very chamber. “You’ll never touch her again, you skank!”
He mentally winced at his own tough-guy dialogue. “Skank”? Yup, you’re really going to make a top-notch reporter someday, Olsen....
“How deplorably touching,” Bernadeth said with a sneer. “If futile.”
Raising her glowing blade, she sauntered toward her targets. Forager tugged frantically on Jimmy’s arm, urging him to flee, but he gently disengaged himself from her grip. “Stay back, Forager.” Porcupine quills shoved their way up through his skin. Fire sprayed from his lips. “I think I can handle this.”
Bemadeth swung the fahren-knife at Jimmy, only to get a face full of needle-sharp spines before her irradiated blade could connect with his head. More quills speared her velvet gown. “Yeeeagh!” she shrieked as the freakish attack caught her by surprise. Her body convulsed in agony ... or was it ecstasy?
“Pain ... delicious pain!” she moaned in rapture. A twisted smile spread across her face as she paused to savor the experience. Her pale, cadaverous features flushed with excitement. Fervid green eyes coveted Jimmy. “Come to me, pain-bringer. It has been too long since Bemadeth took a consort.” A crooked finger beckoned to the flabbergasted porcupine-boy. “And make it exquisite!”
Jimmy’s quills wilted. “Umm ... pass?”
“No more delectable torment for Bernadeth?” She sighed in disappointment, then raised her glowing blade once more. “Then all the more agony for you!”
She charged at him with unexpected speed. The fahren-knife came swinging at his skull. Jimmy strained to launch another volley of quills, but, before he could even try to defend himself a second time, parallel beams of crimson energy zoomed through the doorway, striking Bemadeth’s sword hand. She screamed again, this time less eagerly, as the lethal weapon went flying from her grip. She dropped to the floor, clutching her seared hand. Smoke rose from the scorched velvet glove. The nauseating stench of burning flesh and fabric added to the fetid odor of the torture chamber.
“Wretched meat-thing!” she snarled at Jimmy. No trace 'of perverse affection remained in her furious eyes. “The master looks favorably upon you!” She turned her attention to the empty doorway through which the twin heat-rays had come. “Bernadeth did not know, Lord Darkseid! Forgive me!”
Jimmy belatedly recognized the parallel rays as Darkseid’s dreaded Omega Beams. They were like Superman’s heat vision, he knew, only a hundred times more deadly.
Forager gazed at him in confusion. “The Dark Lord is protecting you?”
So it seems, Jimmy thought. But I’ll be darned if I know why.
“Now would be a good time to make ourselves scarce,” he decided. “You got another Boom Tube ready to go?” Forager shook her head. “They confiscated my transport controls.”
I was afraid of that, he thought. Just our luck.
They retreated back the way he’d come, rapidly descending the ladder into the byzantine maze of tunnels below. Jimmy led the way, turning this way and that, anxious to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the grisly dungeon. Not until Bemadeth’s frantic pleas had completely faded into the distance did he slow down and attempt to get his bearings. He glanced around the leaky, slime-encrusted conduits, looking for some sort of familiar landmark. This was the route he’d taken before, wasn’t it?
Forager kept close to his side. “Where now, Jimmy?” “I don’t know,” he admitted. Translation: He was completely lost. How do I find my way out of here?
PING! His head started chiming like an impatient cell phone. Forager stared at him agog. “Jimmy! Your eyes!” Luminous circuit diagrams, like the ones on his scales earlier, shimmered across his field of vision. “I know that pattern!”
“Pattern?” The circuitry danced before Jimmy’s vision like floaters.
» “Mother Box,” she said in awe. “And more: I see the Source in your eyes.”
Jimmy gulped. “Maybe I’m turning into a New God.” “No.” She eyed him thoughtfully. “Something else. Something . .. unique.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Is that the real reason you tracked me down?”
“Yes,” she confessed.
“So ... I’m just prey to you?” He was surprised at just how hurt—and disappointed—he felt. “Something you can capture and exploit?”
She came nearer to him, so that they were only a few inches apart. He inhaled her perfume with every breath. “You were. Yes.”
He pinned his hopes on her use of the past tense. “And now?”
She placed her hand gently upon his chest. His protective quills receded from her touch, leaving flushed pink flesh behind. He swallowed hard, dousing the last embers of his fire-breath, as she pressed herself against him. His body sensed instinctively that there was no danger here, at least not of the physical variety. His arms circled her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips met and he tasted the sweetness of her nectar. She buzzed fervently. Her antennae caressed his brow.
Jimmy hoped he knew what he was getting himself into.
Bemadeth crouched upon the sticky, bloodstained floor of the torture chamber, wherein she had spent so many blissful hours. She heard the redheaded Terran and his subhuman handmaiden flee the fortress, but made no effort to recapture them. Her throbbing hand testified that there were agendas at play here beyond her ken, and she had no desire to inadvertently incur Darkseid’s wrath once more. Mere physical punishment was one thing, and even had its virtues under the right circumstances, but demotion and/or summary execution were altogether different matters. Bemadeth had fought and schemed and betrayed to gain her current ranking in the Female Furies. The last thing she wanted was to lose all that because of one innocent mistake.
I’m not to blame, she thought indignantly. Nobody told me that miserable worm was under Darkseid’s protection!
Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside and she flinched in anticipation of her lord’s extreme displeasure. “I was deceived,” she called out nervously. “The cunning mortal tricked Bemadeth.” She kneeled before the doorway. “Please forgive this unworthy one....”
A brilliant glow entered the dungeon as a luminous figure appeared in the doorway. “Forgiveness is no longer an option,” a stem voice declared. A crackling nimbus of energy emanated from the figure’s extended right hand.
“You?” Bemadeth squinted into the glare. Her eyes widened in surprise. She groped for her fallen blade, only to find it worryingly beyond her reach. “You’re not...” “The Fourth World is coming to an end. I am the harbinger.” He stepped into the dungeon, illuminating every dank comer of the chamber with his preternatural radiance. “Your time has come ... and, unfortunately for you, there is no pain in death.”
Bernadeth’s black heart exploded into flames as cosmic vengeance consumed her.