Countdown. Part 6

"Is that so?" Mary said, her temper flaring. "We'll see about that!"

Enough was enough. Exerting her strength, she broke loose of Clayface's slimy embrace, sending broken chunks of clay in all directions. Bellowing wetly, the monster hurled a glutinous fist at her, but she deftly evaded the punch so that it splattered uselessly against the wall behind her. Taking to the air, she yanked the Riddler free as well and tossed him, none too gently, out of harm's way. The empty cardboard shelter cushioned his landing, which Mary figured was probably more than he deserved. "Atta girl, Mary!" he cheered her on from the sidelines. "Don't worry. I've got your back!"

Yeah, right, Mary thought.

She didn't waste another moment on her worthless partner. There was a bigger mess that needed to be cleaned up right now.

"Think you can sucker punch Mary Marvel, Clayface?" Calling upon the speed of Heru, as well as Isis's divine mastery of the winds, she flew circles around Clayface at faster and faster speeds, until she generated a whirling cyclone that sucked up every last clump of the monster's gelatinous substance, along with any nearby trash. Clayface raged inside the spinning vortex, but his profane threats were drowned out by the roaring whirlwind, which lifted him off the ground and sent him rocketing into orbit. "Wrong!"

Slowing to a more leisurely pace, Mary dismissed the turbulent winds. A canvas bag crashed to the ground in the tornado's wake. Coins, greenbacks, and expensive jewelry spilled onto the floor of the alley, immediately attracting the Riddler's attention. "Case closed, Mary!" he chortled gleefully. "I've uncovered the loot!"

"And I shot Clayface into outer s.p.a.ce," she replied, unimpressed by her partner's dubious achievement. She landed nimbly on the pavement and wiped a few leftover traces of Clayface from her face and costume. Cut off from the monster's animating intelligence, the remaining clumps of clay flaked off her easily. One of her new outfit's many magical properties, she had come to realize, was its preternatural ability to repel dirt and other stains. Guess the G.o.ds want me looking my best.

"Outer s.p.a.ce?" the Riddler parroted. He glanced up at the heavens. Mary noticed that the billowing black smoke was already beginning to disperse; apparently Gotham's Bravest already had the fire under control. "A bit extreme, don't you think?"

"Was it?" The question gave her pause; to be honest, she had hurled Clayface into orbit without even thinking about it. "Was that too much?" She felt a twinge of guilt. Despite his monstrous appearance, Matt Hagen wasn't actually a soulless demon like Pharyngula, just a bizarrely mutated human being. Maybe she should have gone easier on him?

Then again, an inner voice soothed her conscience, it's not like he didn't have it coming.

"No biggie," she insisted, more to herself than to the Riddler. "He's just dirt, and dirt will fall back to Earth sooner or later."

"Maybe," Nigma replied, not sounding entirely convinced. Unlike her, his once-dapper outfit was now liberally coated with damp clay. He wiped his filthy hands on his trousers and straightened his tie. "Certainly, Hagen has proved ridiculously durable over the years. And yet . . . I've spent enough time around Arkham to recognize when someone is out of control. And I'm not talking about Clayface."

Billy said the same thing about me, Mary recalled uncomfortably, after I trashed that demon. She shrugged, trying to pretend that the Riddler's snide remark hadn't hit a nerve. The smug former villain was the last person she wanted to confide in. "I admit that I don't really know my own strength anymore."

The Riddler smiled slyly, like she wasn't telling him anything he hadn't already figured out on his own. "If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion," he said, pushing his luck, "perhaps you should consider seeking a mentor? Maybe someone who specializes in magic . . . or perhaps anger management?"

29 AND COUNTING.

THE NANOVERSE.

Molecules loomed like small moons as Donna Troy and her new companions began their search for Ray Palmer. Encased in a transparent sphere of shimmering energy, courtesy of the Monitor's virtually unlimited technology, they shrank in size much as the Atom himself once did, discovering a whole new realm of existence at the subatomic level. Outside the sphere, electrons whizzed about spinning nuclei, looking like sparking comets. Atoms of various shapes and sizes collided with each other, sometimes linking to form larger molecules that resembled elaborate glowing constellations. Everything was in constant motion. Quantum particles blinked in and out of existence according to the capricious laws of probability. Donna thought she saw an asteroid-sized atom of oxygen suck two smaller hydrogen atoms into its...o...b..t, forming a single molecule of water, but she couldn't be sure. Chemistry had never been her strong suit.

Is this what atoms and molecules really look like at this scale, she wondered, or is my brain just processing all this bizarre sensory input into images I can sort of comprehend? She suspected the latter; human eyes weren't built to see the world this way. We've probably already shrunk beyond the wavelengths of visible light.

"So where exactly are we supposed to be going again?" Jason Todd asked. He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor of the sphere, seemingly unimpressed by the mind-boggling scenery outside. "And how are we supposed to find the Atom in all this sci-fi craziness?"

Donna guessed that Jason was feeling out of his element. He was more used to beating up crooks in Gotham than embarking on microscopic odysseys. She, on the other hand, had already been from one end of the universe to another . . . and then some.

The Monitor spoke slowly, as though to a small child. "Before he disappeared, Ray Palmer often explored this so-called nanoverse. According to my research, he spent some time in one particular subatomic realm . . . to which we now travel."

"There's no guarantee we'll actually find the Atom there," Donna admitted. "The nanoverse is a big place, relatively speaking, but it's as good a place as any to start looking for him."

Jason shrugged. "If you say so," he said dubiously. A crimson mask once more concealed his features. "Anyway, don't look now, but it seems like we're getting somewhere."

Outside the sphere, molecules broke apart into atoms, which dissolved into swirls of pulsating quarks, gluons, bosons, and neutrinos. A single particle soon filled the horizon, growing larger and larger as the sphere and its pa.s.sengers shrank to meet it. Oceans and continents covered the surface of what now appeared to be a full-sized planet. As the sphere came in for a landing amidst a vast, verdant jungle, Donna found it hard to grasp that this entire world was actually infinitesimal in size.

"Indeed," the Monitor confirmed. "We have reached our destination. Let us pray that it shall be the first and final stop on our journey."

"Yeah, right," Jason muttered. "We should be so lucky."

The golden sphere dissolved into the ether, leaving the trio standing in a sunny meadow surrounded by dense undergrowth. The tropical atmosphere was hot and muggy. Insects buzzed in the background. The torrid temperature came as a jolt after the autumnal chill of the cemetery back in San Francisco; Donna didn't envy Jason his heavy black leather gear. He must be sweltering. Glancing up she saw that the light and heat came from a glowing yellow orb high in the sky. A solitary photon, she speculated, or some sort of radioactive particle?

It took Donna a moment to realize how small they were compared to the scenery around them. Leafy ferns the size of pine trees towered over them. Gra.s.s blades as wide as broadswords stretched above their heads, hemming them in. A brightly colored bird flew by overhead; it looked like it was big enough to carry any one of them off in its talons. Donna hoped that it wasn't hunting for a snack.

Was there a reason that the Monitor had chosen to bring them into this world in such diminutive proportions? Frankly, Donna didn't like the idea of being Lilliputian-sized in an alien jungle. Who knew what kind of predators were lurking in this lush, primeval wilderness? Wouldn't it be safer if they were bigger than, say, field mice?

She turned to ask the Monitor for an explanation, but a sudden rustling in the greenery put them all on guard. "Looks like we've got company," Jason said. He drew a twelve-inch Bowie knife from his belt. "Wanna bet they're not friendly?"

"We don't know that," she rebuked him, but a.s.sumed a defensive posture just in case. She heard multiple life-forms moving in the bushes all around them. "Remember, no unnecessary violence!"

Jason smirked. "Don't tell me that," he quipped. "Tell them."

A party of armed warriors burst through the high gra.s.s walls, surrounding them on all sides. Donna blinked in surprise. She wasn't quite sure what sort of beings she had expected to find on a subatomic particle, but the last thing she'd expected was . . . ape-men riding giant frogs?

But that was exactly what confronted them now. s.h.a.ggy primates, who vaguely resembled Earth's ancient Neanderthals, sat astride ma.s.sive amphibians the size of hippopotamuses, holding on to the reins of their warty mounts. Crudely sewn animal skins were reinforced by breastplates and armbands carved from polished bone. The warriors brandished primitive spears, clubs, and shields. Deep-set eyes regarded the strangers with undisguised suspicion.

They're roughly the same size we are, Donna realized. That must be why the Monitor shrank us down so far, so that we could more easily communicate with the natives.

"Name yourself, outlanders!" one of the ape-men demanded. An intricate carved ivory helmet and voluminous fur cloak suggested that he was in command of the warriors. His sloping forehead and prognathous jaw reminded Donna of Gnarrk, a good-hearted caveman who had once fought beside the Teen t.i.tans. The fangs of some deadly predator dangled on a cord around the chieftain's neck. "How dare you invade our kingdom?"

"Please, we come in peace!" Donna held up her empty hands as a gesture of goodwill. "We are seeking a friend of ours. You may know him as Ray Palmer, or perhaps the Atom."

"You will find no friends here!" the chieftain growled. "And we will not betray Ray Palmer to the likes of you!" He glared venomously at the Monitor. "I know a demon when I see one!"

The Monitor bristled at the charge. "I am Monitor, not a shadow-demon." He strode aggressively toward the mounted ruler. "If you know where the Atom may be found, you must tell us immediately."

"Hold your tongue, abomination." The chieftain goaded his frog forward to meet the Monitor. He beat his fist against his chest. "I am Winn-Dar, ruler of this domain, and I do not answer to the commands of outsiders!"

Poison sprayed from swollen glands above the huge amphibian's bulging eyes. The toxic discharge splattered harmlessly against the Monitor's personal force field, but the powerful alien frowned in annoyance. His right hand glowed ominously as he pointed at the frog.

"No!" Donna pleaded. She stepped between the Monitor and the indignant chieftain, anxious to keep the situation from escalating out of control. "Hear us out, I beg you. Give words a chance before bloodshed!"

Jason stepped past her. "Nice try, Donna, but there's only one language these missing links will understand." His carbon steel knife gleamed in the light of the micro-sun.

Winn-Dar spied the blade at once. "Attack!" he commanded his warriors, who lunged at the intruders from all sides. Furious whoops and war cries precluded any further discussion, and Donna reluctantly went on the defensive. A monstrous frog leapt toward her, seemingly intent on crushing her beneath its webbed feet, but she blocked its descent with one hand. Grabbing hold of the amphibian's clammy belly, she hurled it over her head into a throng of warriors behind her. The frog's startled rider let out a yelp as his steed crashed headfirst into his own kinsmen, scattering them across the meadow.

Another frog-rider bounded at her from the left. "Die, she-devil!" the mounted hominid bellowed as he swung the jawbone of an unknown beast at Donna's head. Amazon training came to the fore as she easily parried the blow with her bracelet. The crude weapon shattered against the silver wristband. "Sorry," she said as she knocked him out of his saddle with a super-strong right cross. He was out like a light before he hit the ground. Riderless, the panicked frog jumped over Donna into the safety of the beckoning jungle.

A few yards away, another warrior charged at the Monitor from behind. "Rrraahhhh!" he roared as he raised his club to batter the stranger's brains in. But the Monitor casually teleported out of the way so that the warrior's club swung through empty air instead, leaving the baffled ape-man gaping in confusion.

"Can you conclude this b.e.s.t.i.a.l melee soon?" the Monitor asked as he reappeared a few feet away from where he had been standing before. His arms were clasped behind his back while he surveyed the battle with obvious boredom. "The longer we must search for Ray Palmer, the less likely we shall find him in time."

"Do not speak his name, foul creature!" Winn-Dar shouted. He shook his stone-tipped spear in the Monitor's direction. "If it was from you he fled, then let your hunt end here!"

Intent upon the inhuman Monitor, the chieftain was caught off guard when Jason sprang at him from the side, knocking him off his steed. They tumbled together onto the floor of the meadow, Winn-Dar's body cushioning Jason's fall. The ivory helmet tumbled from the Neanderthal's thick skull as Jason softened him up with a vicious punch to the jaw.

"Listen, jacka.s.s!" Jason knelt atop the fallen ape-man, his knee pressing down onto Winn-Dar's chest. He waved his knife in his opponent's face. "It's obvious Ray Palmer is a friend of yours. Great. Us too."

"Jason, wait!" Donna deflected an oncoming spear with her bracelet as she spotted the potentially tragic drama unfolding only a few yards away. Along with the combatants, she froze at the sight of the chieftain's extreme peril. The other warriors looked on uncertainly, anxious over the fate of their leader. Donna wished she could a.s.sure them that Jason meant Winn-Dar no harm, but she wasn't sure that was the case. The former Robin didn't play by the old rules anymore.

To his credit, the defeated ruler refused to let the knife-wielding youth intimidate him. "You claim to be friends of Palmer?" He snorted derisively. "That would be easier to believe without your blade in my face!"

"You asked for it," Jason replied, "with the lousy welcome you gave us." He nodded at Donna and the Monitor. "Now, my friends here are reasonable people, but I'm not, and I'm tired of being jerked around." He poked the tip of the dagger into the chieftain's nostril. "So tell me where to find the Atom or your nose will bleed out the back of your skull!"

Is he bluffing? Donna wondered. By the G.o.ds, I hope so!

Winn-Dar stared cross-eyed at the knife. A trickle of blood ran from his nostril. The entire meadow seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what happened next. Donna considered tackling Jason, but even at super-speed she wasn't certain she could stop the other t.i.tan from killing his hostage if he really wanted to. Jason had pretty fast reflexes-and what seemed like a hair-trigger temper.

"G.o.ds below," Winn-Dar exclaimed. "You really mean it!" He surprised Donna by laughing heartily. A smile transformed his Neanderthal features. "Hah! I did not think the world of humans produced such warriors!"

Jason backed off and helped the chieftain to his feet. "It produced Ray Palmer, didn't it?"

"That it did," Winn-Dar agreed. He gestured to his troops, who obediently lowered their weapons. "Although I fear your world has also done its best to crush his spirit."

Satisfied that the battle was over, Donna approached Jason and the chieftain. "This is true," she admitted, recalling the heartbreaking events that had afflicted the Atom in recent years. "He has seen much sorrow in our realm."

Winn-Dar nodded gravely. "He did not speak of it, but his woe was plain to see when he pa.s.sed through here some time ago. In years past, he was a merry hero who once did my people a great service, but now he seems to have lost his way. We told him that only powerful magicks could undo the doom that had befallen them."

The Monitor joined the conference. "And where would one seek such magicks?"

"For that, you must consult the shaman." The chieftain turned to address his people. "Bring forth the Wise One!"

Waving blades of gra.s.s parted behind the warriors and a newcomer entered the meadow. A hooded cloak, dyed a brilliant shade of red, hid the shaman's features. Small and slight of build, the nameless mystic walked softly through the gra.s.s. Charms and amulets adorned her slender arms and neck. A necklace of cowrie sh.e.l.ls rattled gently as she approached them. Winn-Dar and his warriors bowed their heads in respect.

Jason shook his head in disbelief. "You gotta be joking! We're not seriously planning to take our marching orders from some pint-sized witch doctor?"

"Quiet," Donna shushed him. "On Paradise Island, one learns to heed the counsel of the oracles." She bowed her own head to the hooded figure and pressed her palms together, forming a steeple beneath her chin. "We are honored by your presence."

"Hail, travelers," the shaman greeted them in a high-pitched, mellifluous voice. She drew back her hood, revealing the elfin features of a young girl who appeared no more than six years old. More evolved than her Neanderthal cohorts, her waifish face was fine-boned and delicate. Large golden eyes hinted at wisdom far beyond her apparent years. Straight red hair fell past her graceful shoulders. Arched eyebrows gave her a distinctly fey appearance. "I am K'Dessa, high priestess of this realm."

"You?" Jason laughed at the very idea. He knelt down in front of the little girl. "You're barely old enough to-"

K'Dessa didn't let him finish. "I was igniting suns when your people had fins, Jason Todd." Arms crossed boldly over her chest, the tiny shaman met Jason's startled gaze with total confidence. "Yes, I know who you are. I also know from whence you and your companions have come, and what you desire. Ancient prophecies foretold of three travelers who would become the 'Challengers of the Unknown.'" Her golden eyes gleamed with occult knowledge. "The Ray Palmer pa.s.sed this way on his journey, but he has left the inner worlds behind. You must seek him amidst the myriad Earths of your own plane of existence."

Myriad Earths? It took Donna a moment to realize what K'Dessa meant. "The Multiverse?"

Unlike most mortals, Donna was well aware that there were at least fifty-two alternate versions of Earth, located in parallel universes separated by st.u.r.dy dimensional barriers. Had the Atom somehow learned how to slip past those barriers?

"Aye," K'Dessa confirmed. "Unable to find peace here, he left to find a new life on another Earth."

"Which Earth?" the Monitor demanded. "Which universe?"

K'Dessa shook her head. "That I cannot say. I know only that the spirits have spoken to me of a great disaster that only the Ray Palmer can avert. Find him you must, so allow me to send you on your way." She raised her hands above her head. An unearthly green glow radiated from her childish form. The cowrie sh.e.l.l necklace rattled a percussive melody. Unseen voices chanted from the ether, and the world of K'Dessa and her people began to shrink away before Donna's eyes. "Farewell, Challengers. And should you encounter the Ray Palmer in time, tell him that we are praying for him . . . and for all the worlds that be."

Donna grabbed on to Jason's hand as the shaman's spell whisked them away.

28 AND COUNTING.

METROPOLIS.

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 sixteenyear-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 eyegla.s.ses. "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-inthe-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 t.i.tans 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 Serling's request, he stripped down to his boxer shorts. Blushing in embarra.s.sment, 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 a.s.sured 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 a.n.a.lysis." 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't supposed to hurt!

"Okay, we're up and running," Serling reported via the comm system. "Oh-to-the-c.r.a.p!"

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?"