located five hundred feet below the city, Project Cadmus was the world’s foremost genetics facility. The top secret think tank, whose existence Jimmy had stumbled onto a few years back, struck him as his best shot at getting to the bottom of his mysterious new powers. Fortunately, the project’s scientists seemed eager to oblige.
“We’ve been tracking your exploits as Mr. Action,” Dr. Serling Roquette divulged as she escorted Jimmy through one of Cadmus’s many underground corridors. The sixteen-year-old prodigy looked and dressed like any ordinary teenage mall rat, complete with flip-flops, denim shorts, and a faded black T-shirt advertising a punk rock band Jimmy had never heard of. Few people would ever guess that the slim young blonde was actually the project’s head of genetics. “You come up with that costume yourself?”
Says the girl with the two-toned spiked hair, Jimmy thought. “That bad, huh?”
Serling shrugged. “I’m more curious as to why you took up crime fighting. What exactly makes that a natural response to incipient meta-human capability?”
“Maybe it’s not for other people,” Jimmy answered, “but I’ve been on the sidelines of the hero scene for years. ‘Superman’s pal,’ you know?” He tried not to sound too ungrateful. “And it’s been an honor, but still... a part of me feels left out and less than. Like I’m starving to death with my nose pressed up to the bakery window.”
“Really?” Curious blue eyes peered at him through the lenses of her chunky white eyeglasses. “Because most costumed vigilantes have complicated, stressful lives.”
“They also have a purpose,” he explained, “and ... a destiny, I guess. Things I always hoped would materialize for me someday.” They walked past a series of experimental labs and menageries. Windows offered glimpses of various genetically engineered oddities, like a glow-in-the-dark chimpanzee and water-breathing rabbits. “I suppose I hoped that my new powers meant that I’d finally earn a place at the table with the people I admire most.” He neglected to mention his humiliating audition at Titans Tower. What good are these wacky powers if I can’t fight beside Earth’s greatest heroes?
Stainless steel doors parted with a whoosh as they arrived at a high-tech laboratory packed with futuristic hardware so advanced that Jimmy couldn’t begin to guess its functions. Computers lined the walls. A flat steel bed was surrounded by robotic arms, also known as waldoes. Impressive-looking scanners and lenses were affixed to the ends of the arms. Dials and gauges were installed in the sides of the examination table. A posted notice read: WARNING. MUTAGENIC MATERIALS. HANDLE WITH CARE. A glowing green crystal, embedded in some sort of X-ray projector, looked suspiciously like kryptonite.
I hope Doogette Howser here knows what she's doing. Unpleasant memories of Arkham surfaced as, at Ser-ling’s request, he stripped down to his boxer shorts. Blushing in embarrassment, he thought he heard the teenage scientist snicker, but maybe that was just his imagination.
He lay down atop the cold metallic table while she attached electrodes to his chest and temples. She confiscated his signal-watch, then strapped his limbs to the table. “Just to keep you from squirming.”
“What does this thing do again?” he asked nervously. “You won’t feel a thing,” she assured him, tightening his bonds. “It’s like a CAT scan, only more metaphysical.” She retreated to the safety of an enclosed control room at the south end of the laboratory. A thick sheet of transparent Plexiglas cut her off from Jimmy, leaving him alone in the sterile chamber. The apparatus around him started humming ominously. He tugged experimentally on his restraints. “How different?”
“You ever hear of biofeedback?” Her voice emerged from an intercom overhead. “This device measures your brain waves and cerebral activity. It then manufactures a three-dimensional, holographic composite of your subconscious mind for analysis.” As she expounded learnedly on the sophisticated technology involved, it was easy to forget that she was still just a teenybopper. “Past studies, you see, suggest that the brain waves of metahumans are significantly different from those of normal humans. ..
“I’ll take your word for it,” he interrupted. Suddenly, being an everyday mortal didn’t sound so bad. He didn’t care for the idea that there was something weird going on in his brain. I like my gray matter just the way it is.
“Just relax,” she told him. “Let the Ambient Neural Ultra Spectrometer do its thing.”
Talk about a mouthful, he thought. “Why don’t you just use an acronym?”
“Think about it.”
She flicked a switch, and automated sensors whirred around Jimmy’s supine form, scanning him from a variety of directions. The humming of the machine seemed to penetrate his skull, so that his whole brain felt like it was full of static. His forehead started throbbing painfully. Brightly colored energies arced between the elevated scanners. The flashing lights hurt his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them shut. Swollen veins pulsed beneath the electrodes affixed to his temples. Wait a sec, he thought. I thought she said this wasn 1 supposed to hurt!
“Okay, we’re up and running,” Serling reported via the comm system. “Oh-to-the-crap!”
Her startled exclamation caused his eyes to snap open. His jaw dropped as he spied the source of her consternation.
A shimmering holographic wall had materialized above him, winding like a serpent just below the ceiling. An ineffable golden light radiated from the immense wall, while the armored figures of bizarre alien beings appeared to be melded to the dense stone or marble. Their empty eye sockets glowed with preternatural energy. Their immobile faces and bodies blended with the hard, unyielding substance of the barrier. Planetary spheres floated above and below the coils of the wall, which dwarfed the surrounding holographic worlds. An incredibly complex equation, couched in exotic, indecipherable symbols, snaked its way along the length of the wall.
“Come again?” Serling asked aloud. Whatever she had been expecting to find buried in Jimmy’s unconscious mind, this clearly wasn’t it. “Who Spielberged your synapses?”
•‘The Source,” Jimmy whispered hoarsely. Somehow he knew instinctively that the awe-inspiring panoply represented something called the Source Wall, which divided the physical universe from a higher realm beyond. The Source was the ultimate mystery behind all of Creation, at least according to the New Gods. And the figures adorning the Wall were no mere sculptures; they were the Promethean giants, a race of ancient immortals who had sought to breach the barrier, only to become part of it for all eternity. It was said, although by whom Jimmy could not recall, that the soul of a New God returned to the Source upon the death of its corporeal shell.
Had Lightray’s spirit already rejoined the Source? What about Sleez’s?
An agonizing spasm prevented Jimmy from ruminating any further on the subject. Electricity crackled around his aching skull. An excruciating sound, like shattered glass scraping against bone, filled his ears. His mouth tasted like ash. Ozone tickled his nostrils. Prismatic auras obscured his vision. Nausea twisted his stomach in knots. His brain felt like it was going to explode. “I don’t feel so good,” he confessed.
“Jimmy!” Serling blurted. “Your head! It’s growing!”
What? He spotted his reflection in the polished steel ceiling. The teenage genius wasn’t joking; his brain was literally expanding beneath his scalp, blowing up like a balloon. Throbbing veins stood out upon his inflated cranium. A terrifying thought gripped him: What if his head Veally did explode? “Something’s wrong!” he cried out. “Stop this!”
“I’m trying!” she shouted back. Lifting his oversized head from the table, he glimpsed her through the protective Plexiglas screen. She was frantically working the controls, but without any obvious success. “I can’t shut it down! Your brain is telepathically attacking the spectrometer!”
The holographic Source Wall blinked out of existence. The static in Jimmy’s brain diminished in volume and, for a moment, he thought the worst was over. “You’re doing something!” he encouraged Serling. “I feel different...
Different, but not necessarily better. The pressure inside his skull gave way to a soggy feeling all over his body. Spikes protruded from his skin even as his body softened into a flabby, gelatinous mass. Ringed suckers opened up along his arms and fingers, so that he looked like some bizarre genetic hybrid of an octopus, a porcupine, and a jellyfish. Only his red hair, blue eyes, and freckles kept him slightly recognizable as James Bartholomew Olsen. Sticky electrodes slid off his slimy skin, only to get tangled in the quills. “Help!” he gurgled. “What’s happening to me?”
“I don’t know!” Serling answered. “You’re overloading the sensors!”
He heard a definite note of panic in her voice. An overhead monitor erupted, emitting a shower of white-hot sparks onto Jimmy, who yelped in pain. Oozing free of their bonds, his elastic limbs flailed about wildly. An automated sensor arm crashed to the floor. A salvo of razor-sharp quills speared expensive electronic equipment. Sparks and smoke filled the laboratory, along with the smell of burning circuitry. A blaring alarm assaulted his eardrums. Crimson heat-rays shot from his eyes, leaving scorch marks on the walls and ceiling. A second later, icy blue freeze-rays cracked the Plexiglas screen between Jimmy and the control room. “RED ALERT!” a recorded voice announced Aver the loudspeaker. Blinking red lights flashed around the laboratory, bathing the chamber in an eerie bloodred radiance. “RED ALERT!”
“Sorry!” Jimmy said, flinching at the rampant destruction. He yanked the remaining electrodes off his skin and rolled clumsily off the table onto the floor. His arms and legs were stretched all out of proportion, but somehow he managed to stand upright. Concentrating with all his might, despite the emergency sirens and lights, he fought to keep his rubbery bones at least partially solid. “I can pay for this....”
“Those sensors are three million apiece!” Serling informed him.
“Okay, I really can’t pay for it....” He looked around desperately for someplace where he couldn’t cause any more damage. And not just because of the money; with his powers out of control like this, it was only a matter of time before he accidentally hurt or killed Serling. The Plexiglas screen between them looked like it was ready to shatter at any minute. I gotta get out of here... pronto! His frantic gaze fastened on a circular drain built into the floor. A brilliant, if revolting, strategy popped into his overstimulated brain. Grimacing, he flung himself onto the drain and let his flesh and bones melt into a syrupy mess. The sickening smell of raw sewage wafted up from the pipes below. “This is gonna be gross. I just know it.” Leaving Project Cadmus behind, he slid down the drain.
The eldritch chanting of the spirits still echoed in Donna’s ears as the newly christened Challengers of the Unknown suddenly found themselves standing on a rooftop overlooking a brightly lit modem city. Neon signs garishly adorned towering skyscrapers and casinos. Horns honked impatiently in the streets below. A blimp drifted by overhead, advertising an X-Treme Wrestling tournament. Although the sky was clear, the weather felt like fall—and much cooler than the microscopic jungle world they had just departed.
“We’re back on Earth,” she realized. “But which Earth?” The Monitor consulted a display screen upon his right gauntlet. “The third,” he informed them soberly. He glanced around at their surroundings. “This is their Metropolis.” Of course, Donna thought. Scanning the skyline, she spotted the Daily Planet Building to the south. Much like the other buildings in the vicinity, it seemed gaudier than the Metropolis she was familiar with, more like Vegas or Hub City than the Big Apricot. Lottery numbers flashed upon an illuminated ticker running along the equator of the spinning bronze globe atop the newspaper’s corporate headquarters. Gazing down from the rooftop, she spied a proliferation of strip clubs, liquor stores, gun shops, and graffiti. The open display of vice reminded her of Jimmy Stewart’s nightmarish glimpse of his hometown in It’s a Wonderful Life—after all the good he’d done had disappeared. She scowled in disapproval. Surely Ray Palmer wouldn’t choose this ugly mirror world as his new home?
“Hey, Donna.” Jason gestured with his thumb at something behind them. “Check this out.”
Donna realized belatedly that they had landed in front of an enormous billboard bearing an oversized photo of a glamorous, raven-haired woman wearing a ruby-studded tiara. A black leather choker adorned the model’s throat above a generous display of cleavage. Crime Pays! proclaimed the huge block letters printed 011 the billboard. The jarring motto, as well as the cruelly seductive look on the woman’s face, kept Donna from identifying the subject of the portrait right away. “By the gods,” she gasped as she finally recognized her sister’s classically beautiful features, “is that Diana?”
Vandals had defaced the billboard, spray-painting a bright red mustache and whiskers onto the woman’s smirking face. A scrawled message, Slime Preys! provided a terse rebuttal to the sign’s original message.
“I suppose you think that’s funny?” an indignant female voice challenged them from above.
Spinning around, Donna looked up to see three costumed figures hovering in the air above them. The newcomers resembled distorted versions of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman. The latter was clearly the woman from the billboard, minus the painted-on facial hair. Hands on her hips, she glared down at the Challengers, clearly unamused by the mischief done to her portrait. In place of Wonder Woman’s star-spangled uniform, she wore the tight leather gear of a professional dominatrix. A silver lasso dangled from her belt.
“Huh?” Jason blurted. “Is this the Justice League of this world?”
“Actually,” the Monitor informed them calmly, “they’re the exact opposite. Meet the Crime Society of America.” Crime Society? Donna thought. That doesn’t sound good.. ..
The black-clad woman laughed harshly. “Did you hear that. Ultraman, Owlman? They think we care about ‘justice.’” She sneered at the very notion. “Have you ever heard anything so absurd?”
“Of course not, Superwoman.” Instead of a bright red S, Ultraman bore a scarlet U upon his chest. Otherwise, he was a dead ringer for Superman, aside from his cold eyes and surly expression. His red cape flapped in the breeze. His fists were clenched at his sides. “Who wants justice when revenge is so much more satisfying?”
’ “Like you know anything about satisfying your wife,” Owlman taunted his teammate. Large round lenses protruded above the sharp beak of his cowl. A heavy-caliber pistol was holstered to the hip of his intimidating gray body armor. A wide-eyed owl-emblem was embossed upon his chest. Apparently unable to defy gravity on his own, the masked villain swooped through the air by means of artificial glider-wings. “I thought that was my department!” Ultraman’s face flushed with anger; the gibe had obviously hit a nerve. He unleashed a blast of heat vision at Owlman, who banked out of the way only heartbeats before being singed. “Watch your mouth,” Superman’s evil doppelganger fumed, “before I weld it shut!”
Owlman reached for his gun.
“Now, now, boys!” Superwoman flew between the two men, physically holding them apart. “You can fight over me later.” She nodded at Donna and the others. “Right now I’ve got a score to settle with these three!”
“Wait!” Donna protested. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding!” She held up empty hands. “We’re just looking for our friend!”
“Well, you’ve found an enemy!” Satisfied that her jeal-
BBMTDIim 11!
ous husband was no longer going to tear Owlman apart, Superwoman dived at Donna with phenomenal speed. Before Donna knew it, the other woman’s fist was squeezing her throat. Sheer momentum carried them off the rooftop into the open air high above the pavement. “I don’t know where you’re from, Sparkles, but there’s one thing you should know.” Superwoman’s blue eyes gleamed maliciously. “Around here, evil always triumphs over good!”
Meanwhile, Ultraman targeted the Monitor. “You look like an alien!” Grabbing on to the top of the billboard, he ripped it from its foundations, then hurled it down at the armored extraterrestrial. “I hate aliens!”
Undaunted by the villain’s attack, the Monitor incinerated the falling billboard with a blast from his gauntlet. Superwoman’s vandalized portrait went up in flames. “This altercation is getting us nowhere,” the Monitor complained. “I shall continue our search in a less distracting environment.”
He vanished in a shimmer of light, much to the aggravation of Ultraman, whose flying fists passed harmlessly through the empty space the alien had occupied only instants before. “Spoken like a true coward!”
I’ll say, Jason thought, as he watched the Monitor abandon them. Thanks for nothing, creep!
It looked like Ultraman would be coming after Jason next, but the caped villain suddenly cocked his head to one side. “Hang on,” he said irritably. “Sounds like my wife bit off more than she could chew.” Alerted by his super-hearing, he cast a scornful glance at Jason before flying off after Donna and Superwoman. “This punk’s all yours, Owlman.” “Fine with me,” the other villain said. In the shadow of a looming water tower, Owlman touched down onto the rooftop in front of Jason. His collapsible glider-wings folded compactly beneath his arms. “You know, you kind of look like my sidekick, Talon,” he told Jason. “I think I’m going to enjoy beating you to a pulp!”
“Please!” lason replied sarcastically. “You’re nothing but a second-rate Batman.”
“No.” The Darker Knight plucked a silver capsule from his Utility Belt and tossed it at Jason. “You are.”
The capsule exploded against Jason’s chest, releasing a cloud of thick yellow gas. Jason clamped his jaws shut, holding his breath, but it was no use. The caustic fumes invaded his nostrils and throat. Tears streamed from his burning eyes, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. The rooftop seemed to spin around him as an overpowering sense of dizziness turned his limbs to rubber. Nauseous, he dropped onto the sooty, tar-papered roof.
Owlman straddled his prone body. Grabbing Jason roughly by the collar, he rolled the helpless vigilante onto his back. A serrated razorang appeared in his hand. “Your intestines should make a nice Father’s Day gift for Commissioner Wayne,” he hooted. “I’ll have to remember to include a card.”
“I don’t think so,” Donna said. Her silver bracelets flashed in the moonlight as she seized Owlman by his cowl and flung him dozens of feet into the air. He let out a startled cry before crashing through a neon sign over a block away. Sparks and broken glass cascaded down onto the city streets.
Jason blinked at Donna through watery eyes. Boy, am I glad to see you!
She knelt beside him. “Jason! Are you okay?” Concern shone in her striking blue eyes. She leaned over him and, for a second, he thought (hoped?) that she might give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but the moment passed and she simply helped him sit up instead. “Wow.” He coughed, concealing his disappointment. His head began to clear as he took a couple of deep breaths of oxygen. “You really care.”
“Gee, we’re not interrupting anything, are we?” Ultraman and Superwoman landed heavily on the rooftop. Jason saw that the female villain looked a little worse for wear. Blood dripped from a fat lip, while her own lasso
was tightly lashed around her wrists. Ultraman smirked, seemingly enjoying his wife’s humiliation, while he untied her. She glared furiously at Donna.
“I underestimated you before, slut, but I’m ready for you this time.” Freed from her bonds, Superwoman cracked the lasso like a bullwhip. Sizzling red heat-rays shot from her eyes, starding Donna, who barely managed to deflect the blasts with her bracelet in time. “Your tricky Amazon moves won’t save you much longer!”
Whoa, there! Jason thought, scrambling to his feet. A wave of dizziness rushed over him and he grabbed on to Donna’s shoulder for support. Where’d those eye-beams come from ? Diana can’t do that back on our Earth!
“How ’bout we tear them apart like wishbones?” Ultraman suggested. Neither of the villains appeared terribly concerned about Owlman’s fate. “Whichever of us ends up with the smaller halves has to submit to the other in our Fortress of Depravity.”
Superwoman’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I like that idea. You’re on!” She rubbed her hands together in wicked anticipation. “The girl first!”
“On three,” Ultraman said. “One, two ...”
Jason didn’t like where this was going. Somebody wake me up from this nightmare.
“Three!” ‘
The sadistic couple lunged toward the two Challengers, only to smack headfirst into a glowing camelian force field that materialized from out of nowhere. Accompanied by his trademark transporter effect, the Monitor reappeared before Donna and Jason.
How about that? Jason thought. He didn’t ditch us after all.
“I’ve scoured this Earth’s resources,” he reported calmly, as though a pair of bloodthirsty super-villains wasn’t seconds away from playing tug-of-war with the two humans’ flesh and bones. “Ray Palmer is not here, at least not the one we seek.”
Jason wondered what kind of microscopic sicko passed for the Atom on this twisted planet. Probably some sort of human vims or bacteria, he guessed. Or maybe the world’s tiniest Peeping Tom.
“Our continued presence here is unnecessary.” The Monitor entered a new set of coordinates into his gauntlet. “We’re leaving.”
“Dammit!” Ultraman swore from the other side of the force field. His fists pounded uselessly against the barrier. “We haven’t killed you yet!”
Frustrated by his failure, Superwoman lashed her husband with her lasso. “You’re letting them get away!” Sorry, freaks, Jason thought. You’re going to have to take out your disappointment on each other.
The transporter carried the Challengers away.
“Riahc, esira!”
The deck chair lifted off the stage, carrying a nervous-looking volunteer from the audience. White knuckles gripped the seat of the chair while the ten-year-old’s sandaled feet dangled over ten feet above the boards. A packed audience gasped in appreciation, then let loose an enthusiastic round of applause. Performing in the onboard theater of a cruising luxury liner, Zatanna took a bow. A live band struck up a spirited rendition of “Witchy Woman.”
Zee sure knows how to put on a show, Mary thought. Inconspicuously seated in a back row, she joined in the applause. The floor rolled gently beneath her. Since dropping in uninvited on the SS Lemaris, she’d learned a thing or three about cruise ships. One, it was a cinch to sneak aboard when you could fly. Two, on a boat full of tourists living out of their suitcases, almost anything passed as evening wear, even her slinky new costume. Three, they sometimes booked top talent for their passengers’ entertainment.
Zatanna Zatara (her real name, believe it or not) was probably the world’s most famous female magician. Her trademark top hat, tails, and fishnet stockings had been mimicked by countless imitators, but there remained only one Zatanna. “Nruter ot roolf! ” she commanded the levitating chair, reciting the words of the incantation in reverse. The footlights lit up her sapphire eyes and glossy black hair. The chair touched down upon the stage, and the pint-sized volunteer wasted no time hopping off the seat. “Thanks for your help, Tommy,” Zatanna said warmly. She treated the audience to a dazzling smile. “Let’s give our brave volunteer a hand!”
Look at her, Mary thought, clapping along with the others. Hiding in plain sight. Probably only Mary knew that Zatanna’s magic was no mere trickery; it was the genuine article. Nobody here has any idea how powerful she really is. When she wasn’t performing onstage, Zatanna often used her mystical gifts to defend humanity from all manner of occult menaces. I could learn a lot from Zee. . . .
Back in Gotham, the Riddler had suggested that Mary needed a mentor. As much as she hated to admit it, he might have had a point. And who knew more about combining magic and heroism than Zatanna? The showbiz sorceress had even once been part of the Justice League.
“Aw, puh-leeze!” a heckler jeered from one row behind Mary. A vodka martini sloshed in his hand. Mary could smell the alcohol on his breath even from a couple of seats away. “We can all see you did it with wires!” He hollered loudly at the stage, slurring his words. “Nice try, darlin’, but your talent’s all in your legs!”
Who is this ass? Mary glared murderously at the drunk. Would anyone even miss him if he suddenly disappeared? Everyone would think that he’d just stumbled overboard; it probably happened all the time. She could just fly him up above the clouds, then “accidentally” let him go.... The delicious fantasy played out in her mind, tempting her, but she reluctantly dismissed it as beneath her. He’s not worth the effort.
Besides, Zatanna dealt with the heckler far more amusingly. “Emutsoc ekil anaid!” she commanded, and the drunk’s loud Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts instantly transformed into an ill-fitting knockoff of Wonder Woman’s star-spangled costume, complete with gilded bustier and tiara. The entire audience erupted into laughter. Cheers and applause followed the mortified drank as he retreated clumsily from the theater. Maiy approved wholeheartedly. That’s showing him, Zee, she thought gleefully. I knew you were my kind of magic-user!
Eager to get some serious face time with Zatanna, Mary waited impatiently through several standing ovations before the glamorous magician disappeared in a puff of brightly colored smoke. Mary was just starting to ponder how best to make her way backstage when a hand gently dropped onto her shoulder and a lilting voice whispered in her ear.
“Hello, Mary,” Zatanna said. “What brings you here?” Mary twisted around in her seat to find Zatanna standing right behind her. Whoa, she thought. Wisps of polychromatic smoke wafted past Mary’s nose. “You knew I was here?”
Zatanna nodded. “I sensed you from the stage. All that magic—and anger—was hard to miss.” She eyed the younger heroine with concern. “You seem troubled, Mary.” Is it that obvious? Mary thought, embarrassed that Zatanna had seen right through her. Does she know what I considered doing to that heckler? “Um, to be honest, I was hoping we could talk.”
“All right,” Zatanna agreed readily. She gestured toward the exit. “Let’s get some fresh air”
They strolled out onto the promenade deck outside. A warm tropical breeze rustled Mary’s hair. Moonlight shimmered on the rippling surface of the Caribbean Sea. Gentle waves lapped at the ship’s hull. Guardrails prevented anyone from falling overboard; life preservers waited just in case someone managed to do so anyway. The night air had a salty flavor. The beautiful evening lured dozens of other passengers out onto the deck. They ambled leisurely past Mary and Zatanna, paying little attention to the two women.
“I’m surprised your fans are leaving us alone” Mary commented. Zatanna was still decked out in her tux and tights after all, while Mary’s costume could easily be mistaken for that of a magician’s lovely assistant. “I figured we’d be swamped by ardent admirers and autograph seekers.”
“I cast a low-level cloaking spell over us,” Zatanna explained. “We’re not exactly invisible per se, just flying below the radar.” She leaned back against the guardrail. Constellations glittered in the sky above her. “So how can I help you, Mary?”
Mary didn’t know Zatanna well, but she found herself opening up to the other woman without hesitation. Zee’s friendly, down-to-earth manner made her easier to talk to than, say, Madame Xanadu, or even Billy. Mary filled Zatanna in on everything that had happened to her since waking up from her coma, including the extreme measures she had employed against the likes of Clayface and Pharyngula. Zee listened patiently to the entire story, neither interrupting nor judging her. After what had happened at the Rock of Eternity, Mary appreciated Zatanna taking the time to hear her side of the story.
“I see,” Zatanna said, after Mary wrapped up her narrative. Her gorgeous face held a pensive expression. “What happened to Black Adam?”
“He just... left,” Mary lamented. “So here I am, with all this magic and no instruction manual. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t had power before, but it’s not quite the same. And there’s so much of it....”
“I know,” Zatanna said with a worried tone. “I can feel it surging inside you, almost like—”
A sudden disturbance off the starboard bow interrupted her diagnosis. A muffled boom came from beneath the waves. Blazing yellow bolts of energy shot upward into the clear night sky. Only seventy yards away from the ship, the sea churned and foamed violently. Ten-foot waves rocked the Lemaris, sending passengers tumbling onto the deck. Frightened men, women, and children yelped in alarm, and grabbed on to the nearest rails or posts. A white-faced mother frantically wrestled her wailing children into life jackets. Other passengers fled the swaying deck for the uncertain safety of the ship’s interior. It was a like a scene out of Titanic, but without Celine Dion’s cloying song.
Holy crap! Mary thought, springing into action. Obviously her chat with Zatanna was going to have to wait. Taking to the air, she flew straight toward the fiery energy beams. “Hang on!” she shouted back at Zatanna, who remained aboard the tempest-tossed cruise ship, clinging to the rail. “I’m going for a closer look!”
“Be careful, Mary!” Zee called out urgently. “We don’t know what forces are at work here!”
“Don’t worry about me!” Mary snapped, experiencing a flash of irritation at Zatanna’s needless coaching. Coruscating rays of light sizzled all around Mary as she zoomed defiantly into the midst of the barrage. Sea spray pelted her face. She tasted brine upon her lips. “I’m not exactly an amateur, you know. I can take care of mys—!”
A tremendous waterspout erupted from the sea below her. The geyser slammed into Mary with titanic force, knocking the wind out of her while simultaneously drenching her from head to toe. Coughing and sputtering, her eyes and nose filled with salt water, she almost didn’t notice that the eruption had hurled a humanoid figure toward the vulnerable ocean liner. “Mary!” Zatanna cried out in warning. “We’ve got company!”
I see him, I see him! Mary thought impatiently. Wiping a soggy lock of hair away from her eyes, she took a second to catch her breath before flying back toward the Lemaris. Meanwhile, the blurry figure was already arcing down toward a deck full of stunned passengers who seemed frozen in place by shock and surprise. Move, you idiots! Mary railed silently. Even pouring on the speed, she knew she couldn’t get there in time. You’re going to get flattened!
Fortunately, Zatanna was also on the scene. “Enoyreve evom kcab!” she commanded, and a wave of invisible force gently but firmly cleared the area directly in the path of the falling body. “Dna yats kcab!”
She got the bystanders out of the way with only seconds to spare. The mysterious figure crashed onto the deck, reducing a discarded deck chair to splinters. “Ohmigod!” a horrified tourist exclaimed. “What the heck is that?”
Not human, that was for sure. Although a tom blue and white wetsuit concealed much of the creature’s burly form, scaly green skin covered his face and hands, while more scales showed through the ragged tears in his garment. Webbed hands and feet disclosed his aquatic nature. A spiked coral helmet, missing its face visor, protected his skull. Purple bile trickled from the comer of his mouth. Sharpened claws extended from his fingertips. Bulging muscles suggested that the formidable merman was no pushover. Still and silent, he sprawled lifelessly upon the soaked deck. Scorch marks blackened portions of his wetsuit.
Wait a second, Mary thought as she descended toward the supine figure. I know who that is. The wisdom of Ze-huti, the ancient Egyptian god of learning, informed her that the collapsed merman was none other than Slig, an evil New God from Apokolips. He was the commander of the Deep Six, a strike force of water-breathing warriors that had invaded Earth’s oceans on more than one occasion. Last she’d heard, they’d given Aquaman a hard time during the Infinite Crisis. What’s he doing here... and where’s the rest of the Six?
“Watch out, Mary,” Zatanna cautioned her. Water dripped from her long black hair; the spray from the geyser had obviously splashed everyone on the deck. “He could be ...”
“Dead?” Mary suggested. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved that Slig looked like he was in no shape to put up a fight. I wonder how my powers stack up against a New God these days?
Zatanna shook her head. “Dangerous.”
“DEATH!” Slig’s eyes snapped open, revealing slitted red orbs. He scrambled to his feet, looking just as panic-stricken as the freaked-out vacationers. “Death comes for me! I must escape his wrath!” His open jaws revealed sharklike pointed teeth. “Gole ... Jaffar ... Kurin ... all my Deep Six brothers, dead by his hand!”
Whose hand? Mary wondered. Who was scary enough to wipe out an entire pack of New Gods? Hovering above {he deck, she put off tackling Slig in hopes of learning more. “Spill, fish boy! What’re you babbling about?” Ignoring her query, he slid across the wet deck with unexpected speed. Webbed fingers closed around the ankle of an unlucky tourist, who instantly underwent a startling metamorphosis. Gills formed along the poor guy’s throat. Fins sprouted from his arms and legs. Scales spread across his skin. His Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts were tom to shreds by the violent transformation. Within seconds, an ordinary senior citizen had changed into something resembling the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Piscine eyes stared agog at his mutated mitts.
“Worthless dry-skins!” Slig hissed. He charged into a dense clump of passengers, grabbing on to them one after another. Arms and legs turned into tentacles. Bony shells covered flailing bodies. Mortal men and women devolved into hybrid sharks, barracudas, eels, cephalopods, and crustaceans. “You shall be reborn as beasts of the sea, the better to mask my escape!”
Mary kicked herself for not stopping Slig earlier. “You slimy sea monkey!” She dived at the berserk sea-god, seizing his helmet with both hands. Her anger exploded in a flash of eldritch lightning that went off right in his face. “Stop touching people!”
He roared in agony. “Foul creature! What have you done to me!” The glare from the thunderbolt faded away, revealing scarred white eyes surrounded by scalded green flesh. Greasy yellow tears leaked from the smoking sockets. “I’m blinded!”
Serves you right, Mary thought. She struggled to hold on to her slippery foe, who thrashed wildly within her grasp, desperate to break free. Muscles conditioned to withstand the awesome pressures of the deep managed to hold their own against Mary’s preternatural strength. Slig was at least seven feet tall, but Mary’s ability to defy gravity gave her the height advantage. The spines on his helmet snapped off in her fingers. “Stop being such a crybaby!”
“Mary!” Zatanna shouted. She sounded appalled, but by what Mary wasn’t sure. “Back down a notch until we find out what this is all about!”
He's turning people into sea monsters, Mary thought, surprised by Zee’s disapproving tone. She got a fresh grip on Slig’s helmet. Her fingers dug into the hardened coral, which cracked beneath the pressure. Isn't that enough?
She tried to get Slig in a headlock, but he twisted free before she could secure the hold. A taloned hand, questing blindly, grabbed on to the front of her dress and ripped it down the middle, exposing a lot more cleavage than before. Hey, watch it! she thought indignantly. Who does he think I am? Power Girl? The vicious claws didn’t even scratch her skin, however.
“Foolish human!” His rank breath smelled like spoiled sushi. He raved deliriously. “You don’t understand. The Killer is here!”
“What killer?” Sparks flew from her knuckles as she slammed her fist into his face. Cartilage crumpled loudly. He went flying backward into a steel bulkhead, shattering a solid glass porthole. Cold red blood streamed from his flattened snout. A strip of ragged black fabric still clung
to one talon. Mary followed up with a devastating blow to his gut. “You’re the one causing all the trouble!”
She was about to turn Slig into a fish fillet when Zatanna came running up behind her. “Mary, I said back down! What’s wrong with you?”
“Me?” Mary couldn’t believe that Zee was giving her grief at a time like this. “You saw what he did.” She glanced down at her suddenly low-cut costume. “Look at my dress!” “Forget your wardrobe!” Zatanna scolded. She pointed at the shambolic mass of transformed humans charging toward them. They seemed compelled to defend Slig from any or all attacks. “There are innocent people here. We need to attend to them!”
Mary looked away from her battered opponent. By now, the promenade deck resembled some sort of bizarre aquatic freak show. Almost two dozen mutated monstros-’ ities flopped and slithered toward Zatanna. Rent clothing was strewn about the deck. A limbless gray worm that resembled nothing so much as a gigantic sea cucumber wiggled across the textured metal floor, leaving a trail of mucus behind it. The translucent ichor glistened in the moonlight.
“Okay,” Mary said. “That’s disgusting.”
Zatanna scowled. “No matter what happened to them, they’re still innocent people, Mary! We have to help them without hurting them.”
The monstrous worm rose up in front of Zatanna, seemingly intent on devouring the world-famous celebrity. A voracious maw, lined with hundreds of razor-sharp fangs, opened wide.
“Jeez, Zee, I haven’t gone senile,” Mary replied irritably. She had seen the passengers turn into monsters less than five minutes ago. Despite Zatanna’s admonition to be gentle with the mutant horde, she flew between the giant worm and Zee, then delivered a magically charged right hook to the lunging creature. The blow didn’t kill the beast, but it did stun it long enough to keep Zatanna from
disappearing down its slimy gullet. “Just make with the magic!”
The sorceress didn’t bother thanking Mary for the save. Instead she raised her hands and gestured dramatically at the worm. Her eyes glowed with mystical energy. “Trever ot namuh mrof! ”
No puff of smoke accompanied the spell; presumably Zatanna saved such theatrics for her performances onstage. Without any fanfare, the huge wormlike creature morphed back into a trembling, middle-aged man whose unclad form could have benefitted from a few more hours at the gym. He blinked in confusion, as though trying to figure out how he had ended up naked and surrounded by sea monsters. “What the—?”
“You’re safe now, sir.” Zatanna wiped her forehead, as though reversing the transformation had been harder than it looked. She turned to face the rest of the mutated victims. “One down, only twenty more to go....”
Mary flew above the deck, picking out her next target. I’ll bet I can knock them out faster than Zee can cure them. She was zeroing in on a rampaging lobster-man when a brilliant flash off the bow seized her attention instead. “Zatanna! Heads up!”
A glowing figure, radiating a blinding white light, burst from the sea, momentarily turning night into day. Shielding her eyes with her hand, Mary tried to see who it was, but the incandescent glare was too intense; all she could make out was a vaguely masculine silhouette. Forced to look away, Mary saw that the stranger’s explosive entrance had dragged up several other figures in its wake. Scaly bodies, bearing a distinct familial resemblance to Slig, drifted lifelessly to the surface of the foaming water. Gaping green holes in the center of their chests informed Mary in no uncertain terms that the rest of the Deep Six were now literally food for the fishes. No wonder Slig was scared out of his mind!
“That’s it!” Zatanna exclaimed, staring aghast at the floating corpses of five New Gods, as well as at their painfully luminous executioner. “I’m contacting the Justice League. This is getting way too cosmic for the two of us!” “No way!” Mary resented the implication that she couldn’t handle this emergency on her own. What was the use of having all this power if she still had to call in the big guns when things got tough? “I’m not going to sit back and let other people do my job!”
Zatanna was taken aback by her reaction. “Your job?” “No!” Slig blurted. “The Killer is here! I can feel it!” He dropped to his knees upon the deck. His blind eyes beseeched the radiant figure. “Slig shall be your humble servant! I will spit in the face of Darkseid if only you will give me my life!”
Cowardly slug! Mary thought scornfully. A god should have more pride.
' “Look out!” Zatanna shouted as a beam of golden light shot from what might have been the eyes of the Deep Six’s murderer. The golden ray passed right through Mary, producing only a slight tickling sensation, before taking a sharp downward turn toward the prostrate Slig. The beam struck the god directly in the chest—and a volcanic burst of energy exploded from inside him. His bloodcurdling scream was cut off abruptly as he toppled over onto his back. A steaming cavity, identical to the ones carved out of his comrades’ breasts, left him as dead as the rest of the Deep Six. The smell of his burnt flesh filled the air. Mary had a sudden craving for seafood.
His homicidal mission completed, the assassin shot up into the sky at the speed of light. In a heartbeat, he had completely vanished from sight, leaving only his grisly handiwork behind. “Wow,” Mary remarked. “I’ve seen some brutal things before, but...”
“A little help here?” Zatanna called out. Stalking across the deck, the transformed passengers seemed intent on avenging their master’s death. The besieged magician gestured hastily. “Egnahc! Egnahc kcab! ”
A handful of monsters reverted to human form, but many more creatures remained. Zatanna was backed up against the rail as she attempted to muster the strength for another spell. Perspiration gleamed upon her determined face. Her ivory brow furrowed in concentration. “Nruter ot lamron!
This is taking too long, Mary thought impatiently, watching Zatanna’s efforts from above. At this rate, they’d be at this all night. She swooped over the heads of the remaining sea devils, then paused in midair. Closing her eyes, she called upon the power of Isis. It’s only magic. How hard can it be?
“What are you doing?” Zatanna asked in confusion.
You can do this, an encouraging voice whispered inside Mary’s brain. You have the power.
. “Fixing things faster,” Mary declared confidently. Her eyes opened, revealing glowing orbs ablaze with mystical fire. Electricity crackled around her floating body, then zapped the milling creatures below. Nearly a dozen simultaneous lightning strikes instantly transformed scales, fins, and shells back into bare skin. All at once, the battle-scarred promenade deck went from being a mutant aquarium to an impromptu nudist colony. Mary figured that was an improvement, although some of the scrawny and/or flabby bodies on display almost made her think otherwise. Disoriented men and women tried awkwardly to cover themselves, much to Mary’s amusement. I’m betting this is one cruise they’ll never forget!
Zatanna spared the mortified passengers any further embarrassment. “Steknalb roflla!” she pronounced, conjuring up a slew of blankets from the ether. Apparently, making fabric materialize took less effort than undoing Slig’s original enchantment. The gray wool blankets descended like manna from heaven, draping themselves over the trembling tourists.
Mary didn’t begrudge Zatanna her cleanup efforts. She was still too exhilarated by her own triumph to worry about anyone’s modesty. Almost in passing, she noticed that her own garment had magically repaired itself. See? she thought smugly, more than a little pleased with herself. Who needs the Justice League?
“Wow!” she enthused out loud. “Did you see that, Zee?” '
Zatanna nodded gravely. She regarded Mary with new eyes. “I didn’t realize you had that kind of power.”
“Eh, who cares?” Mary said with a shrug. She didn’t want to show off too much. “Let’s just be happy that we averted what could have been a major maritime disaster.” “I suppose,” Zatanna murmured. Even though the nameless killer was long gone, and Slig’s victims restored, she still sounded worried. The soaked magician gazed up at Mary as though she had never seen her before. “Mary, I’m concerned about you....”
Me? Mary thought. Whatever for?
She felt terrific.
“Everything dies,” Darkseid observed as he removed the figures of the Deep Six from his chessboard. Torches illuminated the spartan war room as he ruminated on the demise of the piscine warriors. “And like the Prometheans before them, so shall the New Gods pass into the Stygian depths of oblivion.”
He contemplated the inanimate replica of Slig in his grip. The remainder of the figures he swept into a carved ivory box next to the board. “They are but pawns, sacrificed in a battle beyond their primitive conceptions of life and death.” His crimson eyes glowed in anticipation of the cataclysm to come. “At the end of an age where time, space, and reality will bow before me, only Darkseid shall rise to wield universal power—and decide who lives and dies in the new Multiversal dynasty.”
He crashed the figure in his fist, so that painted green powder rained down onto the chessboard. Random flecks settled onto the adjacent figures of Mary Marvel and Zatanna.
The game continued.