52 - The Novel

  Howling in pain, Black Adam dived toward the ocean and plunged beneath the waves. Underwater spy cameras caught him as he struggled to pull the Robo-Wasp away from his back. Intent on ridding himself of the vicious Insectron, he did not appear to see a gigantic steel Mega-Scorpion, roughly the size of a nuclear submarine, scuttling across the ocean floor toward him. Searchlights beamed from the Scorpion's glittering crystal eyes. The pilots of the manned robot could be glimpsed on the other side of the eyes.

  "Attention, Mega-Scorpion crew!" Bug shouted into a microphone. "Attack at will!"

  Reaching back behind him, Black Adam ripped the Robo-Wasp in half and angrily hurled away the pieces. Blood from his wounds turned the seawater red around him, but the Scorpion's high-intensity spotlights cut through the scarlet haze. Black Adam faced the oncoming creature defiantly, like some mythical Titan pitted against a primeval beast. The Scorpion's pincers snapped at him.

  "Do you really think that toy of yours will stop him?" Cale mocked the Mega-Scorpion. She sounded resigned to her fate. "Black Adam killed Death, the Pale Horseman. What does that make him?"

  The bone-crushing pressure of the deep di„d not slow Black Adam down. He caught hold of one of the enormous pincers with both hands and began to wrench it apart, just like he had Sobek's jaws so many days ago. The Scorpion's stinger jabbed at him, but he deflected the blows with the robot's own front claw. The pincers snapped to pieces. Sparks flashed underwater as the entire limb short-circuited. The pilots inside the cockpit drew back in terror as Black Adam launched himself straight for the vessel's glowing eyes. A cruel smile played upon his face as he drew back his fist....

  "Mayday! Mayday!" the pilots screamed over the laboratory's PA system. "He sees us! He sees—" A deafening crash cut off the men's shrieks. Static, then silence, came over the loudspeakers. A hush fell over the laboratory.

  "My Mega-Scorpion ..,Baron Bug whimpered. His stooped shoulders slumped in defeat.

  All right, Sivana thought. Who wants to take a crack at him next?

  Dr. Cyclops rose to the challenge. "Don't worry," the one-eyed scientist insisted. "He can't find the island if he can't see it." He hunched over the keyboard of his desk computer. "My unparalleled lens technology bends light all around us."

  Ira Quimby strolled into the lab, looking remarkably relaxed and well-tanned. A Hawaiian shirt, Bermuda shorts, and sandals made him look more like a beachcomber than an evil scientist. "He can still smell it, and hear it, my dear doctor." He peered over Cyclops' shoulder as he contemplated the computer's display screen. "If I may contribute a suggestion, perhaps you might consider turning your null-light lenses away from the island and toward, our adversary's eyes?"

  "Smart thinking, Quimby," Sivana admitted. Perhaps all that sunbathing really had boosted Ira's intellect.

  Quimby grinned. "Well, they don't cail me T.Q.' for nothing." He removed his mirrored sunglasses. "Granted, we should be safe as long as the blast doors hold, but it always pays to anticipate every outcome." '

  "Amen," T.O. Morrow agreed.

  On the screen, Black Adam burst from the lagoon surrounding the island. The last of the burning gel had been washed aw'ay from him, but his costume was still torn and charred. He clutched a twitching steel stinger in one fist and a blackened human skull in the other. He tossed them aside with equal disdain.

  With godlike swiftness, he zipped out of the range of the cameras. A second later, heavy blows pounded against the solid-steel blast doors protecting the main lab complex. Nervous scientists jumped at the ringing blows. The dense promethium alloy began to wajp inward. The impressions of powerful knuckles bulged through the metal.

  "That won't stop him," Cale predicted. "Nothing can."

  White-faced scientists began to scurry toward the emergency exits. Sivana opened his mouth to call them back, but Ira Quimby beat him to the punch. The mutated super-genius jumped up onto the head of an unfinished robot and attempted to rally his frightened colleagues.

  "Come on now," he exhorted the various mad doctors. "Don't be scared, fellas! We've all been here before." His savvy gaze swept over the fleeing scientists, who halted their disorderly retreat long enough to hear what he had to say. "Let's face it, some of you boys look like you've been bullied all your lives."

  Doctor Death nodded reluctantly, and was soon joined by most of the other mad doctors. Their expressions darkened as they recalled countless petty humiliations inflicted on them by their intellectual inferiors. Bitter resentment, never very far from the surface, began to overcome their panic at Black Adam's progress so far. Only Veronica Cale looked unconvinced by Quimby's stirring oration.

  He goaded them further.

  "Now the ultimate big, bad bully's right outside, knocking on the door. Do we run? Do we hide? Or do we get even?" He pumped his fist in the air. "This time, we have the weapons. We have the gang!" He shook his fist at the bulging door, even as Black Adam's titanic blows continued to reverberate throughout the lab. "This time it's our turn to kick some ass!"

  Cheers and applause greeted Quimby's speech. Sivana decided that the criminal mastermind had missed his calling.

  He should have gone into politics, Sivana thought.

  Black Adam slammed his fists into the massive steel door before him. His knuckles bled, matching the countless burns and lacerations scarring his flesh, but the pain only stoked the murderous wrath blazing within his chest. It had taken hours to coax the secret of the Horsemen's origins from the dying Azraeuz, but the effort had been well worth it. Isis' true murderers—the architects of Kahndaq's misery—lay behind this final obstacle ... and no mere wall of steel would spare them from his justice.

  Throw whatever technological trickery you have at me, he challenged his unseen foes. Your feeble science is no match for my righteous fliry.

  He threw all his might into one more blow, and the "impenetrable" blast doors finally surrendered before the strength of Amon. Torn from their hinges, the doors crashed down onto the floor beyond. A harsh metallic clang echoed loudly.

  Black Adam strode across the threshold into what appeared to be an enormous laboratory. Workstations divided the ground floor, while elevated metal catwalks ran along the upper walls of the facility. Armed guards and beast-men patrolled the walkways, but Adam barely gave them a glance. He was after Sivana and his diabolical cronies today, not mere foot soldiers.

  I never trusted that myopic madman, Adam thought of Sivana. I should have rid the world of him years ago. .

  To his slight surprise, the mad scientists stood their ground, as though daring him to venture further into their domain. He sneered at their balding craniums and stunted physiques. The information he had extracted from the Fourth Horseman, coupled with the wisdom of Zehuti, allowed him to identify them all by name. He was unimpressed by their fearsome reputations; despite their vast intellects, they were all merely mortal in the end. And he was so much more.

  A few of the Scientists shrank away from him, looking ready to flee at a moment's notice. But a smirking American in beach attire, whom Adam deduced to be the notorious Ira Quimby, attempted to bolster his comrades' courage.

  "Don't worry," he said confidently. "I've been thinking about this and here's how it'll go." He glanced at the scientist to his right, a freakish-looking individual with but a single eye above his nose. "Paging Dr. Cyclops."

  The one-eyed scientist raised an elaborate ray gun that projected a beam of blinding black light at Adam's eyes. The world turned dark as the infernal ray stole his sight from him. Black Adam staggered forward, groping blindly with his hands. The footsteps of the scientists scattered in all directions. He snarled in frustration.

  "Someone get him while he's blind!" Cyclops hollered shrilly. "Get him!"

  More footsteps circled him warily. Black Adam caught a whiff of acidic fumes coming toward him. He heard liquid sloshing in a beaker. Another set of footsteps seemed to stagger beneath the weight of some heavy device. He heard the hum of motorized components powering u
p. He smelled ozone in the air.

  "Where is he?" Doctor Tyme shouted frantically. The gears of a clock ticked where Adam estimated his face to be. "I can't see a thing out of this freaking mask!"

  "Aim your Suspension Ray to the left, Doctor," Quimby advised him. "That's it."

  A sensation like static electricity rushed over Black Adam's body, making every hair stand up. He tried to lunge at the ticking Tyme, but his muscles refused to move. What devilry is this? he thought angrily. He could still feel his limbs—he wasn't paralyzed—and yet he could not budge an inch, almost as though he was trapped in a single instant of time. Let me loose! he raged silently, but the words caught in his throat. By the gods, when I get free, you willpay for this indignity!

  If he got free ...

  Frozen in time, and blinded to boot, Black Adam was right where they wanted him. Ira Quimby nodded in approval. "Now then, we have among our number some distinguished old pros. Evil geniuses who have faced the entire Justice League single-handed." He turned toward yet another member of the Oolong Island brain trust and smiled knowingly. "Tom? Time for you to grandstand, I presume?"

  T.O. Morrow rose from his seat. He put down his daiquiri and fished a slender silicon wand from his back pocket. "Ahem," he began. "Somewhere around the fifty-second century, people will learn how to unfold the hidden dimensions of space." He aimed the wand at Black Adam and flicked a switch. All the lights in the laboratory flickered and went out. Only the sunlight from outside illuminated the sprawling complex. "I invented tesseract technology when I was fifteen, gentlemen. Using this device I can open an area the size of a football field inside that invulnerable brain of his."

  Tyme's Suspension, Ray shorted out, but it was no longer needed. Black Adam screamed and clutched his skull. His bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets. Agonized cries went unheard by the gods.

  "It takes a lot of power for a split second," Morrow expounded, "but it's all we need." Black Adam collapsed onto the floor. Painful spasms racked his body. Morrow clicked off his wand and the lights came back on. "Now then, gentlemen, indulge yourselves."

  The other scientists ran toward the prone figure, eager to get their licks in. They gleefully kicked Adam in the face and ribs, revenging themselves on all their past persecutors, superhuman and otherwise. Doctor Death poured a beaker of acid over Adam's head. Baron Bug shoved a mechanical tarantula down his throat. Dr. Cyclops punched him in the eye.

  Ira Quimby watched the beating from his perch atop the robot skull. He beckoned to the guards, who hustled down from the catwalks to take Black Adam into custody. They grabbed Adam under his shoulders and lifted his face from the floor. Quimby nodded at Veronica Cale, who came forward bearing a glittering crown of electronic circuitry. Unlike her nerdier colleagues, the glamorous female scientist had little interest in abusing their captive. She just looked relieved to be alive.

  Quimby continued to provide the expert commentary.

  "And now the lovely Dr. Cale will apply the Neural Crown, which will reroute all the electrical impulses his battered brain sends to his body."

  He smirked as she pressed the crown down onto Black Adam's skull and activated the electrodes. Bright blue sparks arced between the silvery spikes of the crown. Black Adam stiffened in shock, then started twitching uncontrollably. His bloody eyes rolled wildly.

  "It's done," she said bleakly. '

  Exhausted by their efforts, the frenzied scientists backed away from their vanquished enemy. They looked at each other in amazement, as if they still couldn't believe that they had actually come out on top. Ira Quimby basked in his triumph. '

  "Let's all feel a real sense of accomplishment," he urged them. "We've conquered our fears in a very real way." He stepped down from his perch and slapped a grinning Doctor Death on the back. He peered through the assembled scientists at Dr. Sivana, who came forward at last. "And dear old Thaddeus will take over from here." Quimby shrugged. "That's how I saw it working out anyway."

  Sivana clapped quietly. The other scientists parted to let him through. The wizened old doctor looked around at his victorious colleagues. An insidious smile lifted his lips.

  "I hate you all," Sivana said. "I want you to know that. But together we've done something I could have never achieved on my own."

  He crouched over to look Black Adam in the face. A trickle of bl oody drool dripped from the defeated champion's lips. "Oh, foolish Black Adam," Sivana cackled. "You shouldn't have come here, should you? Not after all we've put you through." He gestured to the guards. "Bring him to my private laboratory," he instructed the beast-men. "And heat up my acid baths."

  He rubbed his hands together.

  "I've been planning for this moment for a very long time. ..."

  WEEK 47

  GOTHAM CITY.

  "For I have given unto thee all the tools to bring about my desires, the same gifts used by Kiirten, Crippen, and Gacy...." .

  The Cathedral of Hate, located deep beneath the city, was far grander than that underground temple in Bialya. Torchlight illuminated the wide central nave leading to the gilded sanctuary at the west end of the profane church. Carved serpents wound around the marble columns supporting the vaulted ceiling. Luridly colored frescos depicted the greatest crimes in history, from the murder of Abel to the destruction of Coast City. Life-sized statues of legendary saints and apostles, such as Rasputin and Vandal Savage, occupied recessed niches along the walls. Individual shrines paid homage to each of the Seven Deadly Sins. A choir composed of involuntary castrati sang glorious hymns to evil.

  "That which is used to flense, grind, pierce, and bum ..."

  Whisper A'Daire read from the Crime Bible, which was laid open on the marble pulpit before her. The illustration accompanying the text depicted an enormous fire pit opening up in the heart of a ravaged city. Doomed souls plunged into the pit, condemned to eternal torment. The grisly woodcut promised great things ahead.

  "Ahhh!" An anguished cry interrupted her sermon. "Hurts ... it hurts— nhn—I don't know anything—nhngg—I've never even seen her...."

  The pain-wracked moans came from the hapless Gotham police officer strapped to the altar a few feet away. The rookie's blue uniform had been reduced to shreds by the ministrations of Whisper's subhuman servitors. His abused flesh bore evidence of the torturer's craft. Beast-men capered around the bloody altar. Pincers, branding irons, flails, and other sacred implements were grasped in their claws, paws, and talons. A scorpion-man preferred to use his own stinger.

  To each his own, Whisper thought.

  Equally brutish congregants, representing every genus of the animal kingdom, knelt before the dais. Their feral eyes gleamed with predatory glee. The werewolf, Abbot, crouched among the first row of the worshipers.

  ■ "So that ye might learn the truths which are hidden, that ye might pull secrets from the very hearts that hide them ..

  Reciting the verses from memory, Whisper crossed the dais to the altar. She drew an ornate dagger from a sheath between her breasts. A scarlet cloak and corset flattered her figure. Forged on unholy Apokalips itself, the blade was used only on the most sacred of occasions. She raised it high above her head, its jagged point aimed at the lacerated chest of the unwilling sacrifice.

  "Please, Fm begging you...." The rookie stared in horror at the dagger poised above him. Whisper wondered if his insignificant life was already passing before his eyes. "I don't know where she is...."

  Her slitted pupils dilated. A forked tongue flicked between her lips. No matter how many times she performed this rite, it never ceased to fill her heart with unholy fervor. "And so see my Kingdom rise anew upon the Earth. In Cain's name."

  "I don't know Batwoman ...!"

  She plunged the dagger into the policeman's heart. The congregation growled in unison.

  "IN CAIN'S NAME!"

  Bruno Mannheim did not turn around as Whisper and Abbot entered his office. He stared bleakly out the picture window overlooking Gotham, his Neanderthal forehead resting
against the cold plate glass. "It didn't work, did it?"

  Whisper used a towel to wipe the rookie's blood from her hands. She had come straight from the cathedral, not even taking the time to change out of her gore-splattered raiment. Abbot, now in human form, followed behind her, carrying the Book of Crime. She regretted being the bearer of bad news.

  "We'll make a new offering tomorrow," she promised. The policeman's entrails had yielded no new omens. "Divination is uncertain, you know this—"

  He cut her off abruptly. "And it will fail tomorrow. The same way it's failed every night since she escaped me!" Turning away from the window, he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, just the way she liked it. Whisper knew she should fear Mannheim's wrath, but that only made the moment more thrilling. "Everything is prepared but this last piece of the prophesy! Gotham stands ready to burn to ashes, but I must have the Twice-Named Daughter's heart to kindle the holy flames!"

  "And you shall, Brother Bruno." She stroked his face to mollify him. The caresses seemed to please him, although his scowl persisted. "We know the

  Book cannot be wrong, for the Word is perfect in its cruelty. The error must come in our interpretation of the prophesy not in the prophesy itself."

  "Or in a lack of faith," he agreed sullenly. They were both true believers.

  Behind them, Abbot placed the Crime Bible down on Mannheim's own marble lectern. The act attracted the ganglord's attention, and he broke away from Whisper to snarl at her henchman. "Again and again you fail to find her, Brother Abbot. Ever since that one night when you fled from her in terror."

  "Nightwing came to her assistance," Abbot reminded him impatiently. He was clearly tired of having to keep explaining this. "I was outnumbered and outfought."

  "You should have trusted the Word to be your strength," Mannheim accused him.

  Abbot stood his ground. "This would be the same 'Word' that prophesied you killing her five months ago?" He sneered at Mannheim. "We all know how that worked out for you, Bruno."

  "Blasphemer!" Flushed with rage, Mannheim charged at Abbot. The two men slammed into the long boardroom table, shattering it. Lupine fangs sprouted from Abbot's gums as he started to change into a wolf-man again. He growled furiously at Mannheim, fighting back. "I'll take your heart!" Mannheim threatened as they grappled savagely. The tussle carried them across the office. They crashed against the lectern, knocking the Crime Bible from its stand. It fell toward the floor.