Saturday, November 15, 2008

Wonder Woman: Better Angels Pt II

WONDER WOMAN

BETTER ANGELS

Part II


The bus ride was not comfortable, but Nicholas endured it stoically. He needed every penny that he could scrounge now that he was no longer a permanent employee, especially if he wanted to keep the website active. Despite what people thought about doctors, medical residents lived pretty much hand to mouth, and now he wasn’t even that.

As the coach pulled in to stop at the town of Ashburn on route 75, he turned on his laptop, scanning for a wireless connection to the server. After a moment the machine beeped once into his earpiece, informing him via a popup that a connection had been established.

As usual there was a buzz of activity around the site, which was itself fairly simple and straightforward. His own weekly blog recorded another several hundred hits in the past twelve hours, while some members had been logging in to provide more information about their experiences of the Amazon attack, especially those who had lost friends and family in Washington. There were some more pictures added to the “Wall of Remembrance” area of the site; several young men, a national guardsman posing with his unit, a boyfriend and girlfriend in scruffy clothes and sporting backpacks.

Nicholas hand drifted across the touch pad as he scrolled through the list of photos. There were almost two hundred now. Without really wanting to he moved the screen up to look at the first two.

Picture number one was a man in his thirties, smiling at the camera while he leaned against the boot of an old blue Ford sedan. His hair was black and his face bore a strong resemblance to Nicolas himself. The second photo had the look of a professional shot, set in front of a lit purple cloth. It showed a slightly awkward young man, perhaps ten or eleven years old, with black hair swept up with some gel and wearing a button up long sleeve shirt with a matching tie. He was smiling, showing off a big grin and a mouth full of white teeth.

“Family?” a voice behind him asked. An older woman was leaning forward to peer at the screen through the gap in the seats. Nicholas closed the laptop lid partway and nodded back to her.

“My brother and nephew,” he said simply. “They died.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “There’s nothing more important than family.”

Nicholas really didn’t want to talk, but then caught himself. He spent hours each day reading heartbreaking emails from people he didn’t know except over the internet. The least he could do was show some of Christian charity he had been raised with.

“Are you going to see your family?” he asked, turning around to see the woman better. She was in her middle age, by appearance, and wore an old coat with a hood.

“My sisters,” she smiled. “None of us married, so all we have is each other.” She looked at the laptop. “If anything were to happen to them, I don’t know how I’d go on.” She noted the look on Nicholas’ face and fidgeted, apparently embarrassed. “Sorry to disturb you,” she said, and leaned back to look out the window. Just outside a dog howled and scurried out of the way as the bus began to move on.

Nicholas turned back around and waited a moment, and then took a breath and opened the laptop again.

The section of the site set aside for Amazon history needed updating, and he had collected some information that he wanted to add about the group among the female tribe knows as the Bana’s. There were several Jewish and Muslim site members who had forwarded information to him about rumours and legends from the Middle East about this group of women warriors who enslaved and murdered men in the surrounding countries, but which had apparently been integrated into the supposedly peace loving Themyscrian culture some time ago.

Nicholas set up the email attachments on separate windows on his screen and then opened a word processing window next to him. Scanning the information he had been sent, he began to type.

‘SISTERS IN MURDER...THEMYSCRIA AND THE BANA MIGDHAL AMAZONS’

Washington D.C.

Thomas Tresser’s Apartment


“Goddamn #%&^$ing son of a &%$@!”

The person entering the apartment could see Tom’s legs in a pair of old denham jeans sticking out of the door to cupboard in his hallway, but the rest of him was masked in the gloom beyond. Sounds of some mighty struggle eschewed from inside the space.

“Come (clunk) here(thud...huff) you...(bam) rat %$#!!!!!”

Inside the space Tom twisted around, getting onto his knees. His back was arched to push his rear end up into the air. The visitor in standing in the hallway allowed that view to linger for a few seconds. Then, very softly, she cleared her throat.

With a huge crash Tom shot backwards out of the open doorway! A box of books skittered across the floor as he rolled, slamming his shoulder in the far wall with his service weapon pointed at the intruders head. His finger poised on the trigger as he looked down the stock into the eyes of the tall, beautiful, dark haired woman in her red and gold armour, grey eyes regarding him calmly.

“Jeez,” he panted, and let out a long exhale. The gun dipped as he eased the safety back on. “Dammit, Diana, I could have shot you!”

She reached out a hand and helped him to his feet. He was dressed in an old blue t-shirt that was clearly worn for comfort, not fashion, and was currently grimed and dusty. His blonde hair was equally matted with sweat. “And?” she asked.

“Yeah, okay,” he shrugged, pushing the gun into the back of his jeans and pulling the shirt over it. Even in his own home his professional instincts were never far from the surface.
“But then I’ve got bullet holes in the wall and explanations of why my weapon has been discharged and it’s just loads of paperwork.”

“Yes,” Diana agreed. “I’ll be less stealthy next time.” She looked over his shoulder at the pile of boxes and oddments cluttering the cupboard. “Do you need help?”

“Nah, I got it. Well, unless the wisdom of Athena can tell me why the one small thing you want is buried at the very back of the heaviest crap you own?”

She caught something in his voice, but ignored it and looked at him with exaggerated gravity. “It is said there are some things that it is not even for the gods to know,” she replied. “This is one of them.”

“Right.” He kicked the old shoe box of full of books out of the hallway into the cupboard and put his hands on his hips. “What’s up?”

Diana’s face got a stony look, and she walked past him into his kitchen, talking as he followed. “There’s trouble on Themyscria,” she said. “I have to return at once.”

He followed her, and Diana could sense him reading her body language, her tone. “Dangerous?” he asked, taking two glasses off a shelf and setting them on the bench underneath.

“It’s not an attack, if that’s what you mean.”

Tom reached into the refrigerator, pulled out an already opened cartoon of juice, and swirled it before he poured it into the glasses. “Is everyone alright? Is your Mother okay?”
Diana felt frustrated. Tom must have seen it, because he immediately slowed down. “Hey, it’s okay if it’s something you can’t tell me.”

For the second time in five minutes Diana felt guilty. She knew she should be able to tell Tom anything. She trusted him completely, but for some reason this was still difficult. “There’s been a death. An Amazon, Melynne...it seems she took her own life.”

Tom stared at her, obviously shocked. He took her hands and stepped closer. “Hey, I’m sorry.” He was searching for something to say, and she desperately wanted him to say something that would make sense of what was happening. “Was she...um, was she special to you?”

At once Diana felt herself getting angry. “All my sisters are special to me!” she snapped.
Tom didn’t let go of her hand, but he did step back a little. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I know that. I mean...I didn’t mean...”

Diana pulled back her hands and pressed them to the side of her head. From guilt to sadness to anger, and now back to guilt. “I know you didn’t,” she sighed, walking across to the window. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay,” he said again, coming up behind her. Slowly he put his arms round her waist, and this time she didn’t pull away. Instead she put her hands on top of his and let herself feel him holding her. Even with things were as far from okay as they could be, it was a good feeling.
“You want I should come with you?” he asked. “You know, token male Amazon?”

Diana turned in his arms and looked at him with her hands round his waist. “I appreciate you asking, Tom, I do,” she said, “but... not this time, I think. This matter is... it’s complicated.”

She could tell he was disappointed, maybe even a little hurt, but he smoothed it over and shrugged. “That’s cool. I’ll cover for you while you take care of the family.”

Diana smiled. “Thank you,” she said, not knowing at that moment what else to say.

“No problem, just call me when you get back and let me know everything’s okay.”

“I will,” she said. She felt the moment of warmth fading and searched for something to say that would ease the tension. “Shall I leave you to your showdown with the monster in the cupboard?” she said. She leaned back a little and held up one arm to flex her bicep. “Amazon muscles,” she kidded.

“Yeah,” Tom said, looking a little sheepish.”I’m afraid this is a guy thing.”

Diana raised an eyebrow. She knew at once there was something he wasn’t telling her, and her first instinct was to ask him directly. Then she remembered her own subtle evasion of why she wanted him to stay behind and thought she didn’t have the high moral ground to pursue the matter. And there was something in her that liked escaping what she was feeling for a few moments. She decided to play along, instead.

“Moving heavy objects, you mean,” she teased.

He smiled, and she could tell he was equally grateful to change the subject temporarily.
“What I meant was, when it comes to stuff like this, guys...well, we have this thing.”

“Okay,” she mused, “but I didn’t know you used it for moving heavy objects.”

Tom actually blushed a little and pressed on. “What I mean is we have this mindset – you know, us against the enemy?”

“The enemy in this case being old shoe boxes.”

“It’s a metaphor for the primal struggle.” Tom persisted.

“I see your point – you wish to test your mettle against these...boxes.”

“In a nutshell,” he said.

“Well then,” Diana said, stepping closer and easing her arms back around his hips, “I will leave you to you great conflict, and look forward to helping you celebrate your victory when I get back.”

Tom leaned closer to, pulling her to him. “I like the sound of that,” he grinned.

She smiled too – there was something about looking at his smile that she couldn’t help but respond to, but then she looked at him seriously. “And you are not a token, by the way.”

“Oh,” he said, and feigned looking somewhat disappointed. “Okay, but can I still be a playtoy?”

The humour was inappropriate, but she knew he was trying to keep her distracted, and she loved him for it. It would have been wonderful to just stay there with him, and leave the world outside for a time. She couldn’t of course, but she didn’t want to let that illusion disappear – not just yet. Even a former goddess of truth needed a moment like that from time to time.

Diana let her face moved closer to his, their lips almost touching. “I trust, Tom Tresser, that you will instruct me further on men and their...things.”

She could feel that his heart beat a little faster. “Well, I can’t speak for all the other guys,” he said, “but I’ll teach you everything about mine that there is to know.”

She smiled, but then the smile faded again. He put his hand up to the side of her face and stoked her cheek gently while she closed her eyes. “I guess you have to get going,” he said after a moment.

Diana opened her eyes. “A few minutes,” she told him. “Not just yet.” She put her head on his shoulder, and held him tighter. He returned the embrace, smelling the scent of her raven hair.

They just stood like that.

Hall of Justice


Diana met Donna at the private landing field adjacent to the Justice League headqaurters. The jet was waiting there, its translucent outline revealing some of the mechanics inside. Diana could fly across the Atlantic in minutes, but Donna would need the jet to make the trip in a reasonable amount of time.

“Ready?” Donna asked. Diana nodded, climbing up onto the fuselage of the plane as it obediently opened its canopy for her.

“Is Tom joining us? Donna asked as she followed Diana up towards the cockpit.

Diana got the feeling there was more to the question than was apparent, but chose to overlook it as she settled into the ‘pilots’ seat. The plane actually flew itself, but Diana had to admit she liked the feeling that she was more than just a passenger. “He’s taking care of things for Diana Prince here in Washington,” she answered. “I’ve called ahead to let Cassie know we’re coming. The round trip should take us a couple of hours.”

“Sure,” Donna answered, and again Diana knew there was something her sister wanted to say but didn’t seem to know how.

The two of them sat in silence as the plane lifted vertically off the tarmac, and then launched itself into the sky heading first for Los Angeles.

The news of Melynne’s had shaken Diana, as Donna had known it would, but somehow she had expected something different from her sister. Anger, disbelief, and a rush to get home and put things right were what she had anticipated, but instead Diana acted almost like a person who had lived in the expectation of some tragedy and now couldn’t quite believe it when it had happened. Etta had offered to come with them, but Diana had politely declined, promising to keep her friend informed.

“Diana,” Donna said, “I’m going to miss Melynne, too.”

Diana didn’t reply.

Donna sat for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. Normally she could talk to Diana about anything, like a best friend as well as sister, but now she found herself wishing she had gained a share of Athena’s wisdom along with Diana’s physical powers.

But she was spared the problem by Diana breaking her silence. “Donna, I’m just not sure what I can do.”

Donna felt her jaw drop, and then a quick flash of anger. “It doesn’t matter!” she said sharply. “We need you. Things haven’t been right on Themyscria since our sisters returned from exile.”

Seemingly wrapped in her own thoughts, Diana didn’t respond to her sister’s frustration. “Since before that”, she whispered.

Donna watched her sisters grey eyes moving across the view of Washington outside and knew that she was seeing a different picture; one where smoke and flame rose from the Lincoln memorial and the Capitol Building, people running and screaming, the sky red as blood while women in armour wielded swords like butchers blades against anything that moved.

Diana turned to face her. “Donna, you know I love our home, and I love our sisters,” she said sincerely, “but I cannot forget what their love for me drove them to.”


Themyscria


The small garden was quiet. Hippolyta stood in the centre, speaking softly.

“It has been a long time, I know,” the Amazon Queen said. She was dressed in the white ceremonial robes of her people, her head covered. “I admit, I had hoped that the time had come when we could behind us all that had happened. So much pain. I only wanted to spare my sisters more.”

“Something terrible has happened, because I let it happen. Because I let them forget, and because I allowed myself to forget what you taught me. And now we are on the verge of ruin, and I’ve come to ask....” The tall woman paused, struggling with her emotions. “To ask again for your forgiveness,” she went on. “I don’t know if you have any grace or if your voice has any power, but if it does, I pray you use to help my people, as you helped us once before.”

Hippolyta bowed her head. “Please,” she said, “if there are any gods who will hear you, tell them I will pay any price, accept any punishment, but that I plead that they will spare my people.”

There was no answer but the breeze among the leaves. Stooping, Hippolyta placed a flower on the ground in front of the carven stone, and bowed her head to the earth. Then quickly she rose and walked from the garden, closing the stone door behind her and locking it with a soft click.


The airspace off the coast of Themyscria


“So, do you think it was porn in the cupboard?” Cassie asked.

Diana stared out the cockpit cover of the invisible jet as they swept low over the ocean. “Cassie!” Donna snapped, turning to look over at the girl now sharing the two rear passenger seats with her. She had been glad when the teenager had joined them, since it was another voice to help break the awkward silences, but still...

“Hey, it’s a fact that guys like porn, that’s all,” Cassie said, spreading her hands. Her legs in their faded jeans were stretched out and her boots rested on the edge of the cockpit. “Even guys who have girlfriends. Like one time, I was up late at the Tower and stumbled onto Roy browsing the Google image site for pictures of Power Girl...”

Diana looked over her shoulder at the girl who had taken up the mantle of Wonder Girl from her sister. Unlike herself and Donna, Cassandra Sandsmark was blonde, with hair that fell down her back in a long straight shower. Her top was red and with a gold crest like Diana’s, but instead of Amazon armour it was simple cloth, and her bracelets were adorned with red stars.
Cassie was an honorary Amazon, adopted as it were when Diana had taken her as her protégé some years ago. At first the teenage girl had been equipped only with the winged sandals of Hermes that allowed her to fly, but she had since been gifted with powers of strength and endurance by the Olympian Zeus himself. Only later had the truth of the former ruler of Olympus being the headstrong teenager’s long lost father been revealed.

Now Cassie was a young woman herself, and she knew what it was to be in love, and suffer from its loss. Even struggling with her own grief Diana couldn’t help feeling glad that the Teen Titan was finally moving past that pain. If Cassie needed to talk like this to help her deal with her feelings, Diana would be patient with her.

“Regardless of what Tom might have implied about his...imaginings on previous occasions, I don’t think whatever he had in his cupboard was pornography.”

“So what do you think it was?” Cassie pressed, ignoring the frown on Donna’s face. “I mean, couldn’t you just use your Athena-vision to see what he was thinking?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Diana said, adjusting the planes course slightly. “The gift of sight Athena granted me to repair the blindness Medousa caused lets me sense when someone is hiding secrets, but it doesn’t allow me to read minds. And in any case,” Diana said, looking back again, “a relationship without trust is without foundation.”

She looked out the canopy window as the plane banked sharply. “We’re here,” she announced.

***

There was a small assemblage of Amazons on the tournament field waiting for the plane’s arrival, led by Artemis. The red haired warrior greeted Diana and the others with reserved affection. Diana was not surprised, or offended. Open displays of emotion were not the Bana woman’s strong suit, and short of dying Diana had never known a time when Artemis had let sentiment overwhelm her.

What Diana did notice more was the way the honour guard seemed uneasy in her presence. As people who had lived in a society governed by royal protocol for thousands of years, the Amazons were strong on tradition and formality, but Diana was sure she sensed something else in the way the women held their strict posture and kept their eyes forward. Almost as if they were glad of the excuse of not speaking with her or the others.

And what disturbed her the most was realising that on some level she was glad of the fact.

“It’s good to have you back sister,” Artemis said, and Diana instantly knew that was not entirely true. Artemis would know that she could sense any duplicity, so the statement was more for the other Amazons present than herself. She decided to let the matter rest until a more private moment.

“Thankyou,” Diana said with a smile.

“Donna, Cassie,” Artemis said, and the smile she threw her former pupil was the most genuine she had used so far. “Are you keeping up your training,” she asked Cassandra.

“When I’m not busting bad guys in the chops, yeah,” Cassandra smiled. “The Titans keep me pretty busy that way. Robin has been helping me with some of my hand to hand skills.”

Batman’s Robin?” Artemis said, a little archly. Diana knew that Artemis was still not going to forgive Bruce taking her down with a drugged dart in Central Park anytime soon. “Well, you’ll have to show me what you’ve learned when we get the chance.” She gestured in the direction of the city proper, visible beyond the tree line. “We should go.”

Diana nodded and they set off, the honour guard falling in behind them. “I’m sorry to have to return like this.” And that was true, of course. “Have arrangements been made for funeral yet?” she asked.

Artemis stiffened. She wasn’t dealing with this well at all, despite her outward composure. “Let’s leave that discussion until we meet your Mother,” she said.

***

By the time they reached the city there were a large number of women following their progress. From the corner of her eye Donna could see them talking among themselves, and the looks of concern on their faces.

“Kinda grim, isn’t it,” Cassie said in a low voice. She smiled at some of the women and they returned the kindness, but it was a half hearted gesture.

It’s as if they’ve had the heart taken out of them, Donna thought. Not grim so much as…haunted.

If Diana noticed, she said nothing, just kept walking at a steady pace by Artemis’ side. She didn’t look at the Amazon sisters, and the ones that looked at her only did so with brief, sidelong glances.

Diana must notice it, her younger sister thought. But she gave no sign. We can’t let this go on. Diana and Mother have to do something.

Donna just wished she knew what.

“Hey guys,” Cassie said as they began approaching the palace and council chambers, “I think maybe I’ll hang outside here for a while. It’s been a long time since I was here, and I want to catch up a bit.”

Diana smiled. She knew as well as Donna that long formal discussions were not the blonde girl’s favourite pastime, but the look Cassie flicked Donna told her that she was as worried as the younger Princess about the state of affairs on the island. And there might be things that some of the Amazons would be open about around Cassandra that they would be shy of saying around 'royalty'.

It seemed Diana had the same thought, because she made no protest. “When we need you, we’ll let you know, Cassie,” she said, and then continued on towards the Council Chamber. Donna nodded to the teen, and then continued on after her sister and Artemis.
The Amazon Council Chamber

Diana stood in the council circle as Hippolyta came in, flanked by Phillipus and the Amazons chief scientist, Paula. The elder Princess was mindful of the fact that despite the monarchy having been officially dissolved years prior, her mother was still treated like royalty.

Old habits die hard, she mused, and she caught the sense of bitterness in the thought and stepped on it quickly. Recriminations wouldn’t help matters.

“Mother,” Diana said, stepping forward. Hippolyta quickened her own step and met her, putting her arms round her and drawing her into a tight hug. Diana had a quick memory of cradling her mother as she lay in the dirt not far from where they stood, shot down by the soldiers sent by Captain Nazi to conquer Themyscria while only its Queen was there to defend it. She pushed the memory aside, and when she returned the embrace it was with love.

“It’s good to see you, Daughter,” Hippolyta said, and stepped back. "I’ve missed you.”

Diana started to say that it was good to be home, but something stopped the words. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said instead.

Hippolyta moved to Donna, hugging her as well. “It does a mother good to see both her girls,” she said with a smile.

Phillipus cleared her throat diplomatically, and Hippolyta nodded to her. “We will talk more soon,” she said to Diana, and indicated the council should be seated. Diana took her place on her mother’s right hand, Donna on her left. Paula stood moved to stand in the middle of the circle, and when all were seated and silent, she began to speak.

“We have made an exhaustive search now of Melynne’s quarters and belongings. So far as we can tell, there is absolutely no evidence there was a second party with her before she died.”

Artemis shook her head. “What about the computer then?” she asked bluntly.

“I’ve examined it at length. It is definitely one of the few that remained on Themyscria after we retreated from the Patriarchy, most of the unshielded technology having been damaged by EMP attacks generated by the OMACs.”

“That doesn’t explain how Melynne got it to connect to the computer network beyond the island without help,” Phillipus put forward.

“No,” Paula admitted.

A ripple of disturbed muttering went around the council circle. Hippolyta allowed her people a moment to digest this information, then raised her hand for silence.

“Paula,” Diana said, “can you show us exactly what Melynne was looking at the night that she died.”

Paula turned and placed the laptop onto a small table while some of her assistants quickly set up a portable holographic projector. Taking a set of cables and connecting them to a projector, Diana musing on the irony of having such advanced technology spliced with mundane hardware, thanks to the devastation the OMAC’s and Brother Eye has wrought on her home.

Within moments, the assembled Amazons were watching the chief scientist initiate a replay of Melynne’s net surfing. The projector cast a slowly rotating three dimensional display into the centre of the circle of councillors, in which they could see the cursor of computer moving across the screen display.

“We are interfacing with the website direct,” Paula said over her shoulder. “The program we are using will duplicate Melynne’s commands exactly as they were originally entered.”

“You couldn’t just use the files in memory to show us?” asked Donna. “What if our connection is traced back here? The Amazons scanning a database that accuses us of war crimes might not look too good.”

“The laptops memory was deleted before Melynne’s...death,” Paula said. “This was faster than going through all the code on the hard drive to recover the information. Don’t worry,” the scientist said, “our security is up to hiding our identity.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed in thought. Why go the trouble of deleting the memory?

On the screen the cursor moved about. It flitted up to the toolbar at the top of the image and letters began to appear in the box for entering web addresses.

“She entered the website manually, as if she knew where to find it,” Diana whispered. Hippolyta nodded, still watching.

The image resolved itself into a view of the homepage. The cursor moved to the menu features, and clicked on the one for the Wall of Remembrance. Once into that area, it scrolled down to where a list of numbers indicated different pages within the area. As the women watched in silence, the image showed moving through the screens one by one, scanning across the rows of thumbnails.

Finally the screen paused on a particular thumbnail. The cursor moved to it and clicked, brining up a larder image with text beside it.

Diana leaned forward. The picture was of a woman in her late twenties, dressed in the uniform of a United States Air Force officer. The wings on her tunic indicated a pilot. Next to the picture was smaller one which the cursor moved to. Instantly the pictures traded places, the one of the woman in her dress uniform switching sizes with the other that showed her in a pilots flight suit standing next to an F-16 jet fighter, smiling and giving a big thumbs up to the camera.

“Pause,” Diana said, and Paula complied.

Diana stood up and walked up the hologram, reading the captions. “Captain Aames; She was shot down over Washington.” She turned to her mother. “This must have some significance.”

The Amazon Queen did not answer, and Phillipus stepped in instead. “During the battle, Melynne commanded a group of archers. They brought down the American jet fighters when they were moving to attack us.”

Diana was not satisfied. “Yet she singled this pilot out specifically.” She turned and carefully reviewed the information in the caption. “This says that Captain Aames was killed in her ejection seat after she was shot down,” she said angrily. None of the Amazons answered her, and Donna moved uncomfortably. Diana stared at Phillipus. “Well?”

The General kept her back straight, and her voice steady. “If that is true, then it would have to mean that the pilot was already mortally wounded. A mercy killing.”

Diana looked hard at the General, and she could sense Phillipus was not entirely comfortable with that answer either. Did she really believe it, or did she only hope it was true? The Princess turned back to Paula. “Did she look anywhere else?”

Paula adjusted the controls and the replay of Melynne’s online activity continued. It scanned through the pages again and then settled on another thumbnail. This time it resolved into a picture of a middle aged man with fair skin, dressed in a suit and standing in front of a small business with a woman about the same age.

“Marvin Philmore,” Donna read. “He lived in Ohio with his wife.” She kept reading further on. “This says he was killed on Themyscria?”

Diana was still standing, staring up at the picture of the man she had never known. She felt oppressed by the information in front of her, as if something sinister was watching her from the shadows. “An OMAC victim,” she said. “One of the many lost in the battle.” The Princess’ mouth was a tight line. “She killed him.”

“We don’t know that,” Paula said. She hated to jump to conclusions.

“It makes sense,” Diana argued. “By whatever means, Melynne was scanning people that had been killed by Amazons. She was involved in the part of the battle where Captain Aames was shot down. She must have recognized Philmore’s picture, and the only place they could have met is in the OMAC attack.” Diana turned and faced her mother. “Which means we know what it was that killed our sister.”

“And what is that?” Artemis asked.

“Shame.”


The Living Quarters


From her window, Evadne had watched the Princess’ party approach the Council Chambers. Across the courtyard she could see Amazons carrying memorial offerings to Melynne’s rooms, where the body of the dead woman lay waiting in state to be taken to its final resting place. She had visited herself earlier in the day, bearing an urn painted with scenes from Melynne’s life on Themyscria. Alastrina had remained behind, saying little.

“Diana is back,” she called in to her red haired partner, who was sitting inside, idly plucking at a lyre. Alastrina nodded but did not look up.

Evadne sighed and came to sit next to her beloved. “Alastrina, we musn’t lose hope. Hippolyta and Diana will discover what is wrong.” Still the other woman did not respond. Diana has never failed us,” Evadne said imploringly.

“If only she could say the same of us,” Alastrina murmured, still plucking at the lyre’s strings.

Evadne closed her eyes, trying to be patient. “My love, we can’ torture ourselves with blame for what happened.”

The other woman turned to face her bronze skinned partner, a look of accusation in her eyes. “Who else shall we blame?” she said.

The olive skinned Amazon felt her own anger and bitterness rising, and this time she couldn’t keep it out of her voice. She had heard these words too many times now. “The witch Circe deceived us! She fed us lies that made us do those things.”

“Did Circe tell us lies when the people in those metal shells attacked us,” Alastrina said, her voice moving up a pitch. Her words were tinged with a mixture of rebuke and shame.

But now Evadne really was angry. She stood up facing her lover, and made no attempt to hide the rising tide of wrath in her voice. “Yes! They attacked us! They came here to kill us all!” She gestured out the window. “They came from out there, with their wars and their corruption, and where were their companions while we were fighting and bleeding and dying? Watching in their iron ships from a safe distance and doing NOTHING!”

This time there was no rebuttal. Alastrina sat staring mutely up at her fellow Amazon with eyes wide. Evadne’s face had taken on an almost manic expression, and her body trembled with passion. “Evadne...” the red head started to say.

“NO! Don’t you see, Alastrina?” Evadne’s voice was rich with both anger and disgust. “They’re barbarians, filthy primitive barbarians who are only interested in war and death.” She lunged forward, grabbing the other by the arms and pulling her roughly to her feet. “All they want from us is what they can take by force!”

Alastrina stared fearfully up at her lover, tears forming in her eyes. “Evadne...you’re hurting me...”

“I did it for you!” Evadne all but screamed into the frightened woman’s face. She let her go and Alastrina fell back into the chair as Evadne grabbed up the lyre. “I did it so they wouldn’t hurt us anymore, so they wouldn’t hurt you anymore, so you can sit there and play this stupid piece of wood and not let me touch you!”

With a snarl Evadne hurled the lyre across the room, the wooden frame shattering against the wall with amid the sound of snapping strings. Alastrina fell back from the chair as her lover advanced, eyes wild. Like all Amazons the red haired woman was trained in all the skills of war, but faced with the wild fury in her lovers eyes she was too shocked to do anything but stare in horror.

“Evadne...please don’t...”

“You care more about them!” She kicked the chair out of the way, spittle flecking the air in front of her. Alastrina shook her head in bewilderment and fear. “They’re nothing. They don’t matter!” She stared down at the face looking up from the floor and jabbed her finger down at her. Her voice was a raw shriek of hate. “I CUT OFF THEIR HEADS AND I’D DO IT AGAIN!!!”

The words hung in the air as Alastrina’s hand flew up to her mouth. Almost at once Evadne stopped, like someone waking from a nightmare. She saw the look of terror and disbelief on Alastrina’s face and her own hands rose to her lips as she staggered. “Oh...oh my love...my love I’m sorry...”

The brown haired Amazon sank to her knees, holding out her hands to the woman she loved more than her own life, but she simply sat with her back to the wall, shaking her head as tears spilled from her blue eyes.

Alastrina sat trembling, shaking her head. The look in her eyes was like a knife in Evadne’s heart, remembering the last time her beloved had looked like that, more than thirty centuries ago. “I don’t know you,” she whispered, clutching her own arms tight about her. “I don’t
know you.”

Evadne gasped, sobbing, withdrawing her hands and rising to her feet. With a cry she turned and ran from the room, shoving her way through the group of women who had come to see what the disturbance was. Two of them rushed over to comfort the still sobbing Alastrina as the others stared in bewilderment.

One of the women jerked her head towards the corner of the room, but when she looked there was nothing there but the pieces of the broken lyre upon the ground.

The Council Chamber

“Shame?!”

Artemis stared at Diana across the holographic display. The other councillors, Donna and Hippolyta included, sat watching.

“It is the only reasonable explanation, Artemis,” Diana said.

“No!” Artemis bit out. “Look at the evidence of the computer. The connection should not have been possible. Something or someone did this to her; that means she was murdered.”

“I agree that there may be some outside agent,” Diana conceded, “but even if that is true, it attacked our sister using the images of people slain at Amazon hands. That means she was vulnerable that way.” Diana lifted her hands. “Guilt and shame over what had happened is the only thing that fits.”

“Over what that happened?” Artemis asked, eyes hard. “However the battle in Washington came about, Melynne was protecting Amazons lives when those planes were shot down. And as for the OMAC attack, I told you at the time, Diana; we were defending ourselves! We were fighting for our lives in that battle.”

Diana didn’t back away, and she felt her own patience wearing thin. But she kept the anger out of her voice – mostly. “By taking the lives of innocent victims,” she replied.

The chill that fell over the Council Chamber was a palpable to everyone present. The warriors faced each other squarely, and to the onlookers it was like watching two storm clouds building on either horizon.

“I was not going to let the women of this island throw away their lives on a principle, Princess,” Artemis said in measured tones. “And if it came to a choice between a sister and one of your so called innocent victims...”

“Artemis!” Diana snapped. She took one step forward, and this time she put steel into her voice sharp as a blade. “I love you as my sister, but do not finish that thought!”
Silence fell. The councillors looked at the two women staring at each other, glancing from face to face as Artemis and Diana held each other’s eyes without flinching.

“Enough.” Hippolyta’s voice was like a rush of oxygen into the room, suddenly allowing all present to breathe again. “Artemis, Diana, please sit.”

Artemis stood a moment, then nodded without taking her eyes off Diana. Slowly she turned and took her chair.

Diana stood unmoving. The red haired Amazon looked up at her.

“Daughter,” the Queen said gently.

Diana blinked. She took a breath herself, letting her anger flow out of her and feeling her face soften. After a moment she nodded to Artemis, who returned the gesture very slightly. Then Diana also resumed her seat.

“It’s clear that there are still questions over what brought about Melynne’s death. We have to find out the answers, for the peace of our poor sister and, I think, the good of our homeland.”

The councillors nodded in agreement, but Penelope stood to speak. “Alas, the signs from Olympus and Heliopolis give us no clues, My Queen, and Amazon science seems equally without answers.” Paula looked disgruntled, but did not disagree. “Where shall we look for them?”

It was Diana who answered. “The only place we can,” she said, holding up the lasso of Hestia. “With Melynne herself.”


The fields beyond the city

Cassie wandered the familiar pathways of Themyscria and was increasingly struck by the differences. Normally there would have been Amazons talking, painting, training; but now the entire Island seemed to living under a cloud. The women she saw spoke in small groups and went about the day to day tasks of living with an air of resignation.

For the blonde teen, it was profoundly disturbing. Ever since she had first come to the Island after she received her powers from Zeus, the thing that had struck her most was how alive it felt. There was a constant energy about the place that made is almost hum with potential. Now it was like someone had taken the soul out of it. The body of Themyscria lived on, but as an empty shell.

Cassandra had seen the way the other Amazons acted around Diana as well, and she was trying hard not to let her frustration get the better of her. She might not have had the wisdom of Athena, but it didn’t take a genius to realise the Themyscrians were picking up on Diana’s attitude. Cassie had a strong feeling that had something to do with all this. The way Diana held back and stood aloof with her sisters was like a constant condemnation of what had happened.

Coming to the edge of the city Cassie hopped up onto a boulder and rested her chin on her fists. If she had been a few years younger she probably would have kicked the whole car sized rock into the ocean. As it was she sat brooding and trying to figure out a way to get Diana to pull her head out of her…

“Asking the gods for wisdom?” a voice nearby said.

Cassie turned and saw a tall women standing nearby. She had short, tawny brown hair and strong build, even for an Amazon. She was dressed in a short, simple weave shift and looking at Cassandra with eyes that were very dark and, it seemed to Cassie, very sad.

“Hi,” she replied, still sitting. She was searching for the woman’s name. “Io, right? You work in the blacksmith.”

“Not at the moment,” the women replied, and the sadness in her eyes deepened briefly. She came over and climbed up next to the younger woman without being asked. “And you are Cassandra Sandsmark, Artemis’ former pupil.” She looked her up and down. "You’ve grown,” she said.

“It’s the heels,” Cassie said, kicking out her legs and showing off the heeled boots she wore. “Ever since Sarah Michelle Gellar, they’re the in thing for but-kicking blonde super-chicks.”

“I see,” Io smiled. “And do you do a lot of but-kicking?”

“My fair share,” Cassie said. “I even have my own lasso now.” She held up the gold rope she wore at her side for Io to look at. “Wanna see?”

Io looked at the rope, and her face took on a strange look, almost as if the simple cord offended her. “Perhaps another time,” she said, and Cassandra didn’t have any trouble reading the reluctance in the Io’s voice. She quickly put the rope back on her hip furthest from the Amazon.

“So, I live with Supergirl now,” Cassie said, eager to find something else to talk about. “You remember her, right? Kara? She trained with Artemis as well.”

Io actually smiled this time. “I remember Artemis breaking some very good swords on her.”

“Yeah, invulnerability rocks,” Cassie said. “So how come you don’t work in the blacksmith now?”

Io looked away to the horizon. “I lost my passion for it,” she said after a moment.

“Seems like there’s a lot of that going around,” Cassie replied.

“Yes,” Io agreed.

The two of them sat in silence for a while. The wind moved in the trees. In the distance two Amazons were grooming a pair of horses.

Cassie looked over at the brown haired woman. “Diana thinks that whatever’s happening has something to do with the…with what happened in Washington,” she finished.

“Yes,” Io said again.

The blonde girl paused for a moment, working herself up to a question. “Were you there?” she asked. “In Washington, I mean.”

“Every Amazon went to find our Princess,” Io answered.

“Okay,” Cassie said. She sensed that no more information would be forthcoming, and opted to respect Io’s wishes. “I was there too. There was a whole thing with the President’s Plane.”

“I heard,” the brown haired woman said.

“I just wanted to help out, you know,” Cassie went on. “They stuck my mom and a lot of other women in camps just being associated with Amazons. I just wanted it to stop.” She sighed, “Diana never spoke to me much about it, but I could tell she was really pissed.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while. Cassie moved uncomfortably, fidgeting.

Finally blonde girl looked at Io and her face darkened. “Okay,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice. “I’ve had it with all the dancing around and the politeness crap! Why did you do it? I mean, sure, I get that Circe did this whole voodoo thing to Hippolyta and made her crazy, but the rest of you? You went along with it, and all those people died, and everything is nutso!” Cassie jumped down from the rock and paced, giving vent to her feelings. “Diana’s angry, everyone is walking on eggshells, and nothing makes sense!It’s like Themyscria died and nobody bothered to read the email! "

Cassie stood there for a moment before she realised what she had just said. Then her face fell, and she took a step back towards where Io was still sitting with her eyes downcast. “Oh jeez,” the teenager stammered, “I’m so sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”

Io dropped her head and looked at her hands, rubbing them and flexing her fingers, like the words she was searching for were something she had to wrestle out into the open. Looking across at the girl, she asked, “Cassandra, have you ever been in love?”

For a split second Cassandra felt like Io had taken out a spear and rammed it into the middle of her chest. She didn’t seem to have any air, and she felt the beginning of a tear in one eye.

Io must have picked up on what she was feeling, because she almost immediately looked uncomfortable as well. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah,” Cassie said shortly.

“Well,” Io went on after a pause, still searching for the words she wanted, “every Amazon on this island loves our Princess. We would fight for her, we would die for her.” Io slipped down from the stone and stood in front of the teenager. “The last time we saw her, she sent us away to safety while she stayed to fight an army of beings bent on killing her. We lived on, not knowing if our Princess was alive or dead. Every day we wondered if this would be the one she would come back to us, or the one where we would find out she never would.”

“You see,” Io continued, “in a real way, Princess Diana is our daughter as well as our sister. Almost every Amazon who was here when she was born played a part in raising and caring for her. We bathed her, trained her, held her when she was sad.” Io turned away to place her hands on the rock. “And then Circe appeared, and she showed us our Princess being held by the same people who had parked their warships off our island, the ones she had warned us would fear and hate us for what happened in the OMAC attack.” Io’s hands were gripping the rock so hard her arms were trembling. “They’d taken her, and they had locked her in a cage somewhere dark, and they were hurting her.”

Cassie’s arms fell to her sides. She looked at Io as the other women stood there, head bowed and the muscles of her arm knotted. Slowly the big woman relaxed as she mastered her emotions.

“But, that was a lie,” Cassie said after a moment. “At least, it wasn’t really the government. It was all part of Circe’s scheme.”

“Yes, we didn’t learn that part until it was too late,” Io said, turning. “Circe took our love and tempered it with our fear, and forged it into a weapon she could use. Love can be powerful, Cassandra.” Io’s eyes hardened. “But that power can be terrible as well.”

For a moment Cassie remembered how she had felt when she had seen her mother locked in the camp under guard, and then when she had seen Connor’s body in the Antarctic – the rage that wanted to overwhelm her. “I see that you understand that too.”

“Yeah,” the young woman said again, and turned away herself. Emotions were churning inside her and she just wanted it to stop, even fore a moment. She looked at Io and changed the subject. “You know, all the times I’ve seen you before, when I’ve been here with Diana, you never really, uh, you know; talked very much.”

Io looked amused. “Did you think I didn’t know how?”

“No!” Cassie said, looking embarrassed. “I just thought you seemed, I don’t know, kinda shy.”

“Sometimes people can just be more…open with some than others,” Io admitted.

“Cassandra,” said a voice. Both women turned to see Artemis walking towards them. She looked at the former and slowed. “Io,” she said simply.

“Hello, Archon,” Io said softly, using Artemis formal title. She turned to Cassie. “Remember what I said, Cassandra.” Paying no further attention to Artemis, she turned and walked away in silence.

Cassie watched her go, then turned back to her former teacher. “Is there something going on between you two?”

“Yes,” Artemis answered, then changed the subject. “You’re needed, Cassie. At once.”

“Okay,” the blonde girl said. She had a lot to think about, but maybe some action would help her mind digest all she had heard. Then she caught the look on Artemis’ face. “Hey,” she asked, “what’s going on? You look worried.”

“Just the usual,” Artemis answered, her expression becoming more tense. “Diana letting her compassion lead her into doing something extremely foolish!”

The Mausoleums

Just before dawn

Diana stared at the low stone structure on the outskirts of the city. She remembered only too well when she had been here last, to pay her final respects to her mother after the war with Impiriex. Time had not brought her a fresh appreciation of the place.

She glanced at the sky. As per ancient custom the body had been brought from Melynne's quarters to the tomb in the stillness before dawn. Now the eastern sky was lightening from dark velvet blue to grey, as Apollo prepared to take to the sky to herald in the new day. Each stage of the symbollic joureny helped the departed Amazon to let go of the bonds she had formed in life, so that when the fire of Apollo's glory gilded the sky, so to would the flames of funeral pyre carry her on her way to her final rest.

“All is in readiness, Princess,” Phillipus said in a low voice. Like Artemis and the dozen warriors who accompanied her she was in full armour. The warriors were armed with spears, bows, and a variety of modern weapons including a shoulder mounted cannon that currently sat on the ground at Artemis’ side. “Melynne has been placed inside the tomb with the offerings and remembrances that custom requires.”

“I don’t like this Diana,” Artemis said. The red haired Bana Amazon had experienced her own sojourn in the afterlife, and while she had no fear of any living enemy she retained a healthy respect for those powers that dwelled beyond the open doorway to the grave-mound nearby. “The last time you went after someone who had died it didn’t turn out so well for you.”

“Nonsense, I regained a sister,” Diana smiled.

“Yes, but I won’t be there to save your royal behind if it all goes wrong this time,” Artemis quipped. Nevertheless, the concern in her eyes was real.

“I shall have to manage,” Diana replied. “Don’t worry, Artemis, I won’t be alone.”

“Indeed, she will not.”

Diana and the others turned. Hippolyta was striding forward, also arrayed in full armour, with a shield slung over her left shoulder and carrying a lance in her right hand. A long sword with a golden hilt hung at her side, and her black hair spilled down from beneath the guard of her purple plumed war helm.

Diana nodded, thinking back to the discussion about who would accompany here into the tomb. She knew what a concession it had been for her Mother to allow others to stand at Diana’s side when she would have flung herself in through the portals of Tartarus for the sake of her child. Now Cassie and Donna came forward as well, each looking determined.

“She means us,” Cassie said, a bit unnecessarily.

“My daughter Donna and our sister Cassandra will stand at the doorway,” Hippolyta said to the Amazon warriors assembled. “The rest of us will stand ready as a final source of help if all else goes ill.”

Diana stepped across to her Queen. “I will return with the knowledge we need, Mother.”

Hippolyta stepped closer, placing her hands on her eldest child’s shoulders. “Take no foolish chances, Daughter. We need you as much as we need answers.”

The Amazon ruler pulled her daughter to her and hugged her tight. Then she turned to Donna and Cassandra, embracing them in turn. Artemis also came forward and took Cassie by the arm. “Mind your training, young one,” she said with rough concern. “Are you sure you won’t take a weapon?”

Cassie smiled and shook her head. “I have my lasso. Hey don’t worry, I learned from the best.” She winked at the red haired woman. “Have some faith,” she joked.

Artemis smiled in return. “Faith is good,” she said, and patted the heavy weapon at her side, “but I prefer faith and a rocket launcher.”

“It’s time,” Diana said. With a final nod to her mother and Amazon sisters, she turned with Cassie and Donna and approached the black portal into the tomb. Nearby the pyramid of oil soaked logs sat ready to receive the body when the nights vigil was ended.

“Stand ready at the doorway,” she said to Donna and Cassie, “but do not enter unless I call. We can’t know what we will be facing.”

Cassie looked puzzled. “I thought the idea was that we’d be facing Melynne.”

“Exactly,” Diana replied.

The three women stepped up to the doorway. Beyond was a short narrow passage leading to a simple rectangular chamber, in the middle of which was a stone bed upon which lay a figure in a shroud. About the bed and around the walls were personal items brought by mourners, and also pieces of clay pottery adorned with paintings. The only light came from four torches set in the corners of the room, not bright enough to be seen from outside the burial edifice.

“Memories of Melynne,” Donna told Cassie, nodding to the items on the floor. “Brought by people whose lives she touched. The paintings show things that she did, friends, loved ones.”

“I remember my mom telling me about these once, when she was working at the museum,” Cassie said. “The ancient Greeks believed that someone is never really dead if they’re remembered.”

“Yes,” said Diana. “It's the same with us.” Her voice took on a hard edge. “But the terms of life beyond death have a great deal to do with what we are remembered for.”

“Okay, so how does this work, exactly?” Cassie asked.

“We are going to try to communicate with Melynne’s psyche,” Diana said.

“Pscyhe?”

“The Greek word for the soul or spirit,” Donna told her. “When a person dies, it leaves the body as a puff of air. The spiritually gifted, like Penelope, can sometimes see it emerge.”

“Okay,” Cassie said. “How do we know where find it?”

“It will still be near,” Diana said. “The funeral rites have not been completed, so Melynne’s psyche will be languishing, waiting for the ceremonies to be finished so that she can move on to Underworld. Until then, it will stay close to Melynne’s body.”

Diana turned to face the younger women. “Stay here,” she said, and turned and walked slowly towards the stone bed. Cassie and Donna exchanged worried glances, but obeyed.

Diana stopped at the side of the bed, looking down at the shroud covered figure. Slowly she uncoiled her lasso from her side and held it up. She was remembering a scene from years before, when a young girl just blooming towards womanhood had been practicing the sword with a tawny haired Amazon with bright eyes and an easy laugh. The girl had been all power and no skill, and despite her strength had been humbled by her teacher again and again. But the older women never lost patience with her pupil, always using the girls mistakes to help her to learn. Until, finally, the day had come when in front of a crowd on onlookers the eager student had disarmed the warrior in a flurry of strokes and earned a hug from the woman she had defeated that held no anger, only admiration and pride.

Abruptly the dark haired Amazon realised there was a tear on her cheek. “Forgive me for delaying your journey, sister,” Diana whispered to the still form in front of her. “But there are answers we need that only you can provide.” She stooped down, and gently kissed the top of the head covered by the shroud, then reached down under the white cloth and eased out a cold, pale hand.

Cassie shuddered. Donna breathed deeply, softly biting her lip.

With a sense of reverence, Diana held up the hand of the dead women, and slowly slipped the cord of her lasso around the wrist. She pulled the cord tighter so that it could not easily slip off, then stood up above the body.

“Melynne, Amazon of Themyscria,” Diana intoned, “I, Diana, daughter of Hippolyta, Queen of our race, call on you to heed my summons!” She twined the glowing golden cord about her hand and she held it. “By the oath you swore in life, and the Lasso of Hestia that commands the truth, come forth and give me answer!”

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Cassie fidgeted. “How long it this going to take?” she whispered to Donna.

“We have until dawn,” Donna murmured, looking back over her shoulder at the world beyond the stone chamber. “Which doesn’t look that far off.”

Without warning, the torches in the small room fluttered and died.

Diana stood in the near total darkness, waiting. She could hear her own heartbeat, but after a moment she could hear something else as well. Something coming from the other side of the stone bed.

Weeping.

Keeping her hand tight on the cord Diana stepped around the body of the dead Amazon. Kneeling on the floor was the figure of a woman, dressed in a burial shroud. Her head was bowed to the floor, and her hands clutched the tawny hair of her head as she rocked slowly, a steady gentle sobbing rising from her. The form of the woman held a slightly translucent quality, as if she were barely present.

“Melynne,” Diana said. She had travelled through arctic blizzards without flinching, but now she felt cold. “Sister.”

Leave me Diana, the woman on the floor wept, and the voice of the Princess’ old sword master was like a whisper in her mind. Please.

“Melynne,” Diana repeated, “forgive me, my sister, but I must speak with you. There are things you know, things we need to understand.”

I’m sorry, Diana, the dead woman said quietly. I am so sorry , my Princess. The voice was so full of pitiful sorrow that Diana felt as if she had been stabbed. Please, let me go into the dark. Forget me, I beg you.

Diana shook her head, kneeling beside her sister’s shade. She could see the outlines of Donna and Casse watching anxiously in the doorway. “Never, Melynne,” she said firmly. “You will be my sister always.”

The spirit shuddered, the sobbing rising in pitch as she shook her head beneath her hands. What I’ve done, what I’ve done, she moaned. Her voice was thick with pain. The cord in Diana’s hand glowed brighter. Hate me, Diana, the voice pleaded. Hate me, and forget me.

Diana felt her own tears staining her face, but her voice stayed firm and steady. “Never. I will never forget you, and I will never hate you. No matter what happened, no matter what you did, you will forever be my teacher, my sister, and my friend.” She let her hand rest above the sobbing figure. “And you will be remembered with love.”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Not a whisper this time, but a scream, and the force of the scream was terrible! It lifted Diana like a rag doll and hurled over the dead body on the slab and across the chamber, slamming her brutally into the packed earth floor!.She lay there, still holding the cord in one hand as she clamped her hands over her ears to try and prevent the terrible shriek from bursting her skull!

A blast like a hurricane exploded outwards from the centre of the tomb, knocking Cassie and Donna off their feet before they could react and sending them spinning senseless into the stunned Amazons outside. From where they lay the women could see a blood red light burning outwards from the tomb, finding its way through cracks and mortar.

HATE ME!!!! the voice of the dead woman roared. The ground rocked under the Amazons feet, and stones fell from nearby crypts. The warriors sprawled on the ground as Hippolyta, Phillipus and Artemis struggled to rise.

All across Themyscria, the tremor rippled through stone and rock. In the stables the horses and mythical beasts bucked and screamed in fear. In the streets of the city, the faces of Amazons who had sat keeping vigil for the soul of their sister and the safety of their princess appeared in windows and doorways, eyes wide with dread. Broken masonry crashed to the streets, and building trembled. In the great library the caretaker Mnemosyne staggered and watched as books and scrolls tumbled from their shelves. On the shores of island the waves churned and crashed violently.

In the chamber of Melynne’s tomb Diana struggled to her feet as the room rocked around her. The red light seemed to come from everywhere at once, and the wail was never ending, biting through the bones of her head. She looked up, and Melynne’s face stared down at her like that of a giant, covering the ceiling above her in a masque carved from despair and self-hatred.

END ME, DIANA! The force of the howl drove the beautiful Amazons back to her knees with a cry. NO MORE PAIN I BEG YOU PLEASE NO MORE NO MORE!!!

“I will not!” Diana screamed herself. “I will not abandon you, and I will not let you end like this!” She pushed herself upright, the lasso of the gods blazing like fire between her hand and where it still lay looped around the wrist of the body. “Do you see this, sister! Only the truth survives in Hestia’s compass, and the truth is that I will never surrender you, and I will never let you go into the dark alone and forgotten! NEVER!

AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

The scream was mind numbing, the howl of a soul in pain so great it could not be expressed in words. In every corner of the island nation women were thrown to the ground as their homeland tossed like a row boat seized by Poseidon’s fury.

Outside the tomb Hippolyta used a wall to drag herself to her feet, staring fearfully at the burning red stone structure. “Diana!” she cried over the terrible sound filling the air.

Inside Diana covered her face with her arms as the pots and urns around the walls blew apart, filling their air with grit and ceramic shrapnel. She shook her head, trying to clear the blinding matter from her eyes, coughing and choking. Then as she wiped away the dirt her watering eyes grew wide.

From the ruin of the pottery figures were rising. They grew and unfolded like paper dolls, and the Princess could see that the flat, almost two dimensional beings were shapes of black and orange, their surfaces formed of painted clay. In fact they were the paintings on the shattered urns, each one a representation of Melynne grown to life size animations that regarded Diana with immobile faces and pitiless eyes. Some were painted dressed in armour, some in loose shifts. A fearsome number of them were armed with sharp edged swords.

As Diana stood and watched, the moving paintings advanced, closing in on her from all sides.
To be continued...









Thursday, November 6, 2008

WONDER WOMAN : BETTER ANGELS - Pt I

For Gwendoline, and all the other Amazons whose world this will be


The near future.

In the United States, the Amazon Princess Diana works in her role as Wonder Woman, trying to bring hope to the hopeless, fighting against injustice, and bringing her message of peace to a troubled world. Operating in the Department of Meta-Human Affairs in her ‘mortal identity’ as Agent Diana Prince, she also continues to develop her romantic relationship with fellow agent Thomas Tresser.

Meanwhile, the Amazons have recently returned from the exile imposed on them at the end of their brutal attack on Washington D.C.


Despite the fact that the battle was precipitated by the lies of the evil sorceress Circe, the hundreds left dead by the attack mean fear, suspicion, and often outright hatred continue to follow the women of Themyscia. Not since the day of their betrayal and enslavement by the demi-god Herakles has the hope of the Amazons to bring all peoples together in peace and understanding seemed to close to fading forever.

Now with Diana the Amazons must confront the ghosts of their past, and make a decision about what the future will mean for them, and possibly the world they once hoped to save.


WONDER WOMAN

BETTER ANGELS
brettc1

Themyscria

Night

Almost nothing stirred upon the ancient island. The island lay quiet and Nyx’ silent chariot bore the Goddess of Night across the heavens, trailing her cloak of stars. A warm breeze from Euros, lord of the East wind, gently rustled the leaves of the tropical trees and eased the heat of the night for the comfort of the sleeping Amazons.

But not all slept comfortably.

In the apartments of two of the warrior women, one of the twain shifted fitfully beneath the light woven sheets. Her hair was in disarray, and the features of her beautiful face pinched by some internal conflict that defied the soothing embrace of Morpheus.

She saw...saw the man looking down at her, his armour splashed with the blood of her sisters. Heard his coarse laughter and felt his hateful hands on her.

Knew again the awful smell of him.

The weight of him.

Shame. Endless shame and anger and the promise of blood fulfilled in a moment of delirious wrath. Swords rising and falling and the screams of animals that lied at being human. Lied liars lying dying with cries of mercy from their treacherous tongues that went on and on and on...

Until another voice was there and the paving under her feet was somehow different. There were cries again and a sword and a statue of a bearded man seated on a throne of marble. A cry and the wet slicing song of steel carving flesh as a man screamed. Hot blood soaking the stone as a body fell and someone was weeping as she struggled through warm tar holding her back. She heard the boys voice sobbing and her own cry rising in her throat. The sword sang again to mask out the terrified hopeless wail that welled up in unison with her own grief soaked scream.

DAAAAAAAAAAAD!”

The cry pierced the night like an arrow, murdering its peace. The faces of women of all races emerged from the windows and doorways of their residences, while the night guard in their armour raced along the terraces.

In her bedroom, Alastrina rose from the floor where she had fallen, her dark bronze hair matted with sweat. She felt hands on her shoulders as Evadne lifted her to her feet, brushing back the hair from her dark eyes. “My love, are you alright?”

Alastrina did not seem to realise where she was. She looked at Evadne, seeing her olive skin and tightly curled brown hair but scarcely recognizing her. Then she stiffened and pulled away, avoiding her lover’s eyes. “I am fine, Evadne. What is happening?”

For a second after Alastrina pulled away, Evadne looked both frustrated and stricken. But then both women heard the sound of sandaled feet dashing past their windows. “Something down in the gardens, I think. I thought at first the cry was yours but...”

Before she could finish the sound of voices rose in concert nearby, calling out with a note of desperation that sent shivers up Evadne’s spine. They both hurried outside to join others of their sisters out on the terrace. There were figures moving in the courtyard below, and the light of the torches cast a yellow glare over the scene.

“Get Epione! HURRY!”

Evadne saw one of the guards sprint off, leaving a space in the small crowd. Instantly other women cried out in despair and disbelief and the nature of the tragedy became horribly clear.


Apollo’s fiery chariot has scarcely chased Nyx’ from the sky when the Amazon council met to begin it crisis meeting.

The council chamber was arranged in a circular fashion, with all members holding equal status and Queen Hippolyta presiding as the first among her sisters. Only in times of dire emergency did the Amazon Monarch assume complete autonomy, and then only with the consent of the council. Now Hippolyta sat listening grimly, her fingers laced beneath her lovely, narrow face. Windows high in the walls let sunlight fall in slanting rays as Phillipus, the dark skinned general of the Amazon warriors, was concluding her report to other dozen members of the council. All of them sat up on their backless chairs who listened intently.

Epione did all that was possible, but we were too late. Melynne was dead by the time she arrived. Even the ray was unable to revive her.”

The other women digested the news grimly. Across from Phillipus, the red haired Artemis shook her head in disbelief. “And we are certain that this...act was not the work of some outside power?”

Phillipus glanced at Hippolyta, then shook her head sadly. “Every inch of the grounds was checked. We found no sign of anyone but Amazons.”

Artemis scowled. “That only means our enemy is cunning. There is no other reasonable explanation for what happened.”

Artemis steadfast reluctance to accept the other obvious explanation drew some sceptical stares from the other women present. Penelope, oracle of the Amazons, spoke from the far side of the circle. “Melynne had been much troubled since our return. She had been reclusive, brooding. She was not herself.”

“No!” Artemis snapped. “Melynne was a warrior, as good with a sword as any Amazon, and a skilled and hardened fighter. For one such as her to give up her life cheaply? This is unheard of!”

Silence fell, and Phillipus took her seat.

“There is something at work here that goes beyond a single death,” Penelope said fearfully. “Melynne is not the only one of our sisterhood who has been labouring under a burden. The signs from Olympus warn of great danger for all of us.”

Silence fell again. At last Hippolyta placed her hands on the table and spoke, her voice carrying through the hall. “This matter must be addressed at once.” She looked at Artemis. “There is too much at risk to let pride guide our reason.”

The other Amazons nodded in agreement, if somewhat reluctantly. Artemis faced the dark haired Queen squarely. “What so you propose, your Majesty?” she asked.

“We need to get to the truth of this matter, whatever it may be,’ answered the Queen, rising from her chair. The other women followed suit.

“We need Diana.”


San Francisco

18 hours later


Dressed in her red and gold and blue battle armour, her black mane foaming about her broad shoulders, the Princess of the Amazons known as Wonder Woman was currently trying very hard to not become dead. A matter that was complicated by the need to protect the man crouching behind her and trying to accomplish the same goal for the rest of San Francisco.

Diana was facing three huge robots, each built in a bulky humanoid design that had them standing about twenty feet tall and almost as wide. The automatons heads were small be comparison to the rest of them, each about the size of a beach ball mounted on the rotund torsos from which the oversized arms and legs protruded like assemblies of metal ovoids. They stood in an arc of about 45 degrees at the far end of the tunnel they occupied, stooped so that they fit under the rough rock ceiling.

It was the arms that most held Diana’s attention. Protruding from the upper forearm of each limb was a pair of twin fifty calibre cannon, six pairs of barrels sending ammunition the length of her palm hurtling at her at 10 rounds per second. Diana’s arms moved in a blur of silver as she used her bracelets to batter away each incoming shell, so fast that the air in front of her was like a small fireball as the missile exploded against the indestructible god forged bands. Ordinarily this task would have not occupied her for more than the few moments she would need to get to one of the robots and smash it to metal scrap, but she dared not move from her position lest she expose the man behind her to the deadly hail.

Sivana’s done his work well, this time,” Diana heard Batman say, his words carried by the micro-transmitter in his mask to the receivers in her earrings. The roar of the cannon-fire in the small space was like a physical presence. “Gene bomb’s set for fifty seconds more power up, half a dozen bobby traps to make sure we can’t just remove it physically.

Less than a minute. With her perceptions enhanced by Hermes gift of speed that could seem like an hour to Diana, but for all her warrior prowess she had no skill in disarming computer programmed detonators, and she needed to stand fast to shield Bruce from the deadly gunfire anyway. “Clark is till busy with the mutations on the surface,” she said, the receivers in his cowl allowing this to be a two way conversation. “Can you do it?”

“We’ll find out,” he answered tightly.

The muzzle flashes of the robots guns lit up the tunnel like a strobe light, and the noise pummelled him. Even with Diana weaving a net of defence around them the robots attack might still stop him completing the task. “Your heart’s beating faster,” she commented without turning away from the robots.

Forty seconds left. “If you say so,” Bruce replied, his hands moving deftly over the circuits inside the bomb’s control panel. “Unless that’s your heart you’re hearing.”

“Ha!”

The barrage continued. One shell she let slide through, seeing it was not in any danger of hitting Batman, but the projectile smashed into the wall above their heads and sent a small cloud of debris raining down on him as we worked. Suddenly other bullets started following suit, servos in the robots arms acting to shift the aim of the guns fractionally on and off; only a few in every hundred, but if Diana was to extend her reach to batter them away as well she would be danger of letting through something that would strike home. It would take a significant number of hits for them to hurt her seriously, but if she were distracted from guarding Bruce’s back for even a split second...

Thirty seconds. More rock and dust rattled down around Batman’s head and shoulders and over the exposed interior of the bomb. “That’s not helping,” he said, and this time she was sure of the anxiety creeping into his voice. “You, know, if Clark were here he’d have taken all three out with his heat vision by now.”

Diana grit her teeth in a little smile. “Oh, really?” she fired back.

“I’m just saying.”

She knew that Bruce was nervous now. She also knew that in spite of his words there were few beings he would completely trust to defend his back like this, and even fewer that he would be so comfortable with as to use friendly banter instead of clipped orders. As always, she was honoured to have his confidence so unreservedly.

But that didn’t mean she would be letting that little comment about heat vision slide. Certainly not.

Diana focused her full attention on the enemy guns. She only needed a small opening, but the robots barrage was keeping her pinned. Here at the convergence of their fields of fire she could block every missile, but if she moved closer to engage them the spread of shells would become much wider. She couldn’t guarantee Bruce’s safety in that situation.

Twenty seconds. Time to change the rules.

There were three things that worked together to allow Diana to do with her bracelets what even similarly powerful heroes like Captain Marvel or even the Green Lanterns with their power rings could not accomplish. One was obviously speed, and Diana’s came from Olympus itself. To her the barrage was moving no faster than a cloud of bubbles blown by the wind. But another part was that she was, quite simply, a woman. Her range of peripheral vision was naturally greater than a male human’s, and her brain worked to process the cloud of missiles as a whole entity rather than as a collection of individual shells that had to be focused on one by one.

And the last was practice. Lots and lots of practice.

With her arms moving so fast in front of her that they could scarcely be seen by the naked eye, Diana picked her moment, inspecting the oncoming hail of death for the perfect candidate. She found a suitable missile spinning through space towards the gap under her right shoulder, speeding from the outside gun of the robot on her far left towards the back of Batman’s head with murderous intent. Diana picked off the eleven other shells rushing at her position and then delayed for one precious hundredth of a second, needing to have the shell placed just right.

Eighteen seconds left. Diana’s right arm whipped around, her wrist rotating to not just block the cannon shell but deflect it precisely. The rotating band of her right bracer struck the projectile a foot away from slamming through Bruce’s skull and sent if tumbling along the new trajectory Diana had picked out for it. The bullet flew through the distance between Diana and the robots, striking one of the two barrels of the outside gun of the machine on her far left just as another shell was leaving the chamber.

With a ringing explosion the gun mount blew up, the detonation travelling along the arm to set off the ammunition magazine feeding the cannon. As its whole left arm literally blasted apart the robot staggered wildly, its remaining gun thrown off target and chewing pieces of rock from the wall to Diana’s left side as the machine fought to correct its balance.

Seventeen seconds left, four guns still bearing on her. Diana had cut the volume of fire down by a third and reduced the spread of the cannons by the same. In the time it took the machines to fire another dozen rounds she took three steps forward. Still using her bracers to batter bullets out of the air, the Amazon reached up to her forehead, slipped her tiara off, and hurled it at the robot on her left in one deft move.

The slender golden weapon scythed through the air, the power of Amazon muscles giving it the inertia to split a stream of incoming in shells in mid flight and while it held its course to the robots shoulder joint. With a squeal the heavily armoured metal was sheared clean through, the arm falling away and crashing to the floor as its weapon went silent. Its weight suddenly no longer evenly distributed, the machine lurched into its centre counterpart, pushing the volley off to the right for a precious half second. All the time Diana needed.

Behind him, Batman felt a sudden shift in air pressure as his companion took flight, and almost instantly heard the crash and clatter of heavy armour being crushed, twisted, and breached by strength that could lift a destroyer clear of its dry dock cradle. At once the guns fell silent, allowing him to focus his full attention on the panel open in front of him.

Twelve seconds on the display. Eleven.

“Bruce?” Diana said, coming up behind him. Ten seconds left.

“Your hand,” he said, nodding towards the panel. “The green button under the two red ones. Press it and hold it.”

Eight seconds Diana did so, and he fiddled with more electronics. Still the counter scrolled down. Six seconds.

Five.

Four.

At three seconds left something beeped once. Then the counter stopped.

Batman took a deep breath and sat back. Then he gave her a small smile. “All clear,” he said, then turned to see the smoking remains of the robots littering the far side of the chamber. “Nice work, by the way,” he added as he climbed to his feet, shaking off the remaining dust from the walls.

“I suppose,” she said, a trifle wistfully.

The man in black noticed that she hadn’t taken her hand off the green button yet. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Well,” said Diana, looking somewhat disappointed, “it’s just that I always thought you were supposed to be good at this, Bruce. What would you have done if I wasn’t here?” She gestured to where her finger rested on the button. “Hold this down with one of those pointy ears.”

Batman did not speak, did not even move, but as he stared back at her the eyes behind his mask did narrow very, very slightly.

Diana’s own eyes met his stare without blinking. “I’m just saying,” she commented innocently.

***

Diana and Batman made their way back to the surface, Diana carrying the disarmed gene bomb over her shoulder. Behind police barriers crowds could be heard cheering as the two emerged from the tunnel Diana had smashed through the street’s blacktop to get to the underground chamber.

“You two look like you had a busy time,” said a rich, deep voice. Both looked up to see figure in blue descending out of the sky, trailing a red cape and sporting the crimson and yellow symbol on his chest that was synonymous the world over with truth and justice.

Diana grinned at Superman as he landed next to them. “I could say the same,” she said, looking at the surrounding neighbourhood. Cars lay overturned, and rubble from several badly damaged buildings littered the street. But look on Clark’s face spoke the most important message – the perpetrators subdued, and no serious casualties.

“Once everything is secured I’ll help with the clean up,” the Man of Steel said. ‘Help’, Diana knew, meant him doing everything he could to repair the damage and let the people living here get back to their normal lives. For Clark, the end of the fight was the beginning of his real work – helping people. Unlike herself and Bruce, Clark wasn’t a natural warrior. Some people thought that made him somehow less of a hero, but Diana had seem him put his life in mortal danger to protect innocent people too many times to harbour any such notion.
“That’s Sivana’s sick little toy?” He nodded at the device Diana was still carrying.

“We managed to defuse to bomb,” Bruce said, “and Diana gave me a demonstration of Amazon finesse.” There was no sarcasm in his voice, and the smile she tossed back at him was equally genuine. “Speaking of which,” Bruce added, “you look like you could have used a bit more yourself.”

Superman looked over his shoulder to where a hole had been blasted in the back of his cape. Whatever the humanoid insects had been hitting him with had been powerful enough to put a small tear in the almost indestructible blue uniform underneath. “Tagged me when I was keeping three of them occupied and away from the tunnel entrance. The acid venom stung a little, but I’m fine.”

“We’ll run a scan on the toxin when we get back to the hall, just in case,” Bruce said, and Diana nodded in approval. Sivana was cunning; it was entirely possible his twisted genius could have dreamt up the gene bomb scenario as a means of luring the heroes into a situation where he could infect them with something.

“And,” Diana added, “it won’t do to be giving easy hits to the enemy.” Her smile didn’t waver, but her voice grew just a little sterner as she waggled a playful finger at the Man of Steel. “The training hall, Wednesday morning. We’ll sharpen up that battle field awareness of yours.”

“One hit,” Clark corrected her, holding up his hands. “And I’m fine.”

“One hit can make all the difference,” Diana persisted, and her musical voice had a steeliness to it that left no room for debate. She knew Clark would argue, but she also knew just what he meant to the people of the whole world, and one woman in particular. A bit of tough love wouldn’t hurt him.

Clark sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Wednesday,” Diana said, and poked him in his big blue shoulder. “Bring your A game.”

She turned to have a last look around. “If you gentleman don’t need me right now,” she said, handing the bomb to Clark, “I have a few things to take care of.”

“I’ll let you know what we find,” Bruce said.

She smiled at them both, and lifted into the air. With a quick wave she was accelerated upwards and was lost in the clouds.

Batman activated the signal device in his utility built to request a transport beam from the Hall of Justice. “No problems with the bomb?” Clark said.

“It should be safe for matter transport – John can beam it direct to a secure holding cell.”

“Good,” said Superman, and then smiled over at his masked companion. “I’d hate to watch you using your mask to hold down that button.” Batman raised an eyebrow behind his mask, and the Kryptonian used his free hand to play with his earlobe. “You’re not the only one with ‘sharp ears’,” he kidded.

“Funny,” Batman said dryly. “Let’s see how long that lasts after I text Diana how you drop your guard when you lead with your left.”

“I do?” Superman asked, surprised.

“Not after Wednesday,” replied the Dark Knight with a satisfied smile.

Superman blinked, and his own smile faded away. “Oh, you’re a bad, bad man,” he said, folding his arms across his chest the transport beam shimmered around them.


Philadelphia

12 p.m. local time


Pennsylvania Hospital was founded in 1751 by Benjamin Franklin and Doctor Thomas Bond, not far from where the bridge named after the first of its founders crossed the Delaware River. During the brutal conflict that had been the Revolutionary War, and again during the War Between the States, it had cared soldiers broken and bloodied by gunpowder driven iron tearing flesh on the battlefield. In World War Two members of its staff had served with distinction in helping to save the young lives hurled against the machine guns and bombs of global tyranny.

In 2006, it had been one of the medical centres flooded with wounded and dying victims of the bloody carnage in Washington D.C.

Father Lewis moved through the gardens, looking for the solitary figure making his last goodbyes to the well tended grounds. Lewis was a tall, almost gangly man with grey hair, sharp features and prominent nose. He ambled as he walked, a trait he had never lost from his days working on his father’s farm. Members of the hospital staff nodded respectfully to him as they passed, but though he returned their greetings it was clear that he had some definite purpose occupying his thoughts. He found him in a circle formed by flower beds and bordered on one side by evergreen trees. There was a wind with a hint of ocean chill in it ruffling the branches, but despite his being dressed only in light shirt and pants the other man seemed not to notice.

The Father came to sit beside the younger man, and joined him at staring up at the sculpture at the far side of the circle. The figure was an angel, carved with outstretched arms and wings, marble robes flowing around the body as a woman’s face gazed peacefully down at the two men.

”This place always makes me feel more relaxed,” Lewis sighed. The other man did not respond, just sat staring back at the angel. He had dark hair cut just short of his shoulder, and a lean handsome face with dark, intense eyes. Those eyes were fixed on those of the statue as if in some kind of accusation.

“Nicholas,” Lewis said, “I know you too well to hope you will change your mind, but I would urge you to reconsider the path you’ve started down. We all understand your loss, but sooner or later there must come a time for forgiveness.”

The man Nicholas didn’t look at Lewis, but his answer was clear. “I went to Sunday School down in Florida, Father. Are you talking about the example of when God forgave Soddom and Gamorrah, or are we talking about the people of the Flood?”

Lewis knew that he had little chance of making an impression, but he had to try non-the-less. “As a doctor, you took up responsibility and an oath as a healer, not a judge. And there are many who would say it is for God to dispense such judgements, Nicholas, not men.”

“What about the Israelites who Joshua led to level the city of Jericho and strike down all its people? Or the fight against Hitler? Doesn’t God sometimes call on men to serve as his instruments of justice.”

Lewis sighed. The Seminarian knew in his heart the Lord preached forgiveness, but he also believed there were some evils that had to be actively fought against. Still, this present business was distasteful.

“My son,” he answered, “if there is anything the past few years have taught us, it is that war is a terrible thing. Many people suffered after the attack on Washington, but you cannot forget that in our darkest hour these people stood beside us and helped us survive. At first, the hospital tried to be tolerant . But then the public debates, the website – there is a line, Nicholas, between opposing wickedness and...hate mongering.”

Nicholas turned to face the older man for the first time. His expression was cold, and his eyes held an almost pitiless quality that made Lewis blanch. “Love what is good, hate what is evil.” He breathed deeply. “Those women are evil, Father. I know it, and I can give you the contact details of a helluva lot of people who feel the same. They may have helped us to save their own skins, but that doesn’t change who they are inside. They’re evil.” His eyes took on a dangerous light. “Tell me someone could do the things they did if they had any goodness in them.”

Lewis tried to think of something to say,but it died on his lips in the face of the young man’s passion. “I will pray for you, Nicholas,” he said, finally.

For a moment the younger man looked almost offended, then he closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. When he looked up again, he reminded Lewis very much of the young man who had come to the hosptial three years ago, full of fervour and hope. “Thank you Father,” he said. “And could you pray for my Sister in Law, too, and my nephew.”

“Of course,” Lewis answered. “The baby is how old now?”

“Just over one,” Nicholas answered.

Lewis nodded and stood up. There was nothing more to say, and the wind was picking up. The trees behind the Angel were swaying. “Your cab will be arriving soon.” He hesitated a moment before leaving. “You know, Nicholas, Joshua did spare one person in Jericho. A prostitute, who helped the Israelite scouts escape the city.” He looked up the angel. “Sometimes God looks into our hearts and bestows his mercy on people others would judge irredeemable.”



Nicholas sat on the seat after Father Lewis had gone. He could hear the cars in the streets nearby, and the sound of the wind moving the trees. A small group of old women were nearby, apparently feeding some birds. As the breeze blew more strongly a cloud moved over the sun and the birds took flight, beating upwards with their wings.

Nicholas watched them fly, and his eyes came to rest on the Angel. Its wings remained fixed, but the eyes of the woman’s face stared down at him. He stared back at the graven eyes, but he didn’t really see them. He saw another pair of eyes, staring up at him from a gurney. Eyes that should have been filled with promise, but there was only fear and pain. In the end those eyes had held less life than the marble ones regarding him.

The young ex-resident hung his head and balled his fists. It wasn’t just unfair, it was wrong! It was evil! There was no other word for it.

He saw a loose stone in the garden path and without thinking he grabbed it. Standing up with a cry he hurled it at the angel, knocking the head off with a crash of stone on stone. The graven woman-head slammed to the ground and lay there amid bits of debris, still staring upwards.

Nicholas breathed in, trying to get his feelings under control. Without looking to check if the old women or anyone else had seen his act of vandalism, he turned and walked quickly out of the park.



About ten minutes later the groundsman for the park found the angels head lying next to the stone base. He shook his head, muttering deprecations against the callowness of young hoodlums, but he didn’t pick up the head, deciding to leave it until later. The wind was up and it was getting colder. Besides, there was something about the way the vandals had damaged the beautiful face so that it now held a sinister smile that the groundsman found unsettling.


Pennsylvania air space


Cruising above the clouds it took Diana half an hour to cross the distance between San Francisco and Washington. The Justice League transport beam could have let her travel those miles in the blink of an eye, but that would have denied her the pleasure of sailing through the clear blue sky and soaking up the warmth of Apollo’s sun.

It had been mid morning when she left the West Coast, so it was early afternoon when she entered the airspace over Pennsylvania. Transponders in her JLA communicator coordinated with computers in the Hall of Justice, which in turn kept track of local air traffic. The system would warn her direct if there was any danger of a mid-air collision. Air traffic controllers had more than enough to be concerned with in their jobs without adding the stress of having to compensate for human beings who could fly at mach 5, and at that speed no civilian aircraft would be able to maneuvere in time, anyway.

Diana flew in low towards Washington, military surveillance scanning noting her presence but recognizing her flight authority. She slowed down, not wishing to cause any sonic booms over the city, and followed the blue line of the Potomac as it continued on southeast towards Chesapeake Bay. Some fisherman along the banks looked up as the rode the air with her arms spread out like the eagle emblem on her armour, black hair whipping back in the crisp clear breeze of her flight.

Soon after she could see the rooftops of the city. Diana dropped low and alighted in Mount Vernon Square, just opposite the Techworld Plaza . Her hunters senses told her that there was no one around, and she made sure that there was sufficient tree cover to mask her presence to any satellites as she spun in a tight circle, her battle armour, tiara and bracers replaced in sparkle of mystical energies by her favoured pants suit and spectacles. It only took her a moment to adjust her hair and stroll out into the park lanes, not as the foremost warrior of Themyscria, but as Meta Human Affairs Department Agent Diana Prince.

As she always did just after the change, Diana noted the differences in her perceptions that came with the disabling of her powers. Her hearing and vision seemed less acute, but her sensation of touch – the feel of her clothes, her shoes, the warmth of the sun – were slightly amplified. She felt at once that she was less in tune with the world around her, but at the same time was suddenly immersed in its sensations. Practice, though, had allowed her to adjust rapidly to the strange duality of the experience. By the time she found Etta five minutes later, she was completely comfortable in her ‘mortal’ identity, as if she had lived with its limitations and clarities all her life.

Lt. Colonel Candy was sitting in a café in the Plaza, sipping coffee and surfing the world wide web on a computer provided by the establishment. A shorter woman in her mid thirties, she wore her strawberry blonde hair short but stylish.

“Diana,” Etta smiled, and as she rose from her seat the Princess returned her hug with equal affection. Etta was family to her. Like Diana, she was dressed in pants and a blouse, though the other woman had elected to go without a jacket. The Amazon noted as they both sat down the way Etta kept her left leg crossed so as to be near her hand, and knew the Air Force officer was sporting an ankle holster under her pant leg. Diana herself still felt distinctly uncomfortable with a firearm, and never wore one except when required by on duty responsibilities.

“I was just watching Wonder Woman’s work in Frisco,” Etta said, nodding at the screen which had a Youtube window open showing Diana, Superman and Batman engaging the insect mutates of Sivana before she flew up into the air and smashed down into the street, burrowing downwards. “I guess her and the Dark Knight got the job done down below.”

Diana made a mental note to study the footage of the fight for her training session with Clark. “Batman disarmed the bomb; Wonder Woman was really just providing backup this time,” she said modestly.

“Mmm-hmmm,” Etta said sceptically. “Anything that needs an Amazon for ‘back-up’ against is probably going to be a bit more than we mere mortals can handle though.”

“Well, that’s the point of a team, isn’t it?” Diana smiled. She smiled to get the waitresses attention and ordered a green tea. On a suggestion from Etta she had tried coffee in her un-powered state once, and had spent almost two hours feeling like her skin had been put on too tight. “How is Steve?”

“Still in Geneva,” Etta said with a smile, but Diana knew that she was missing her husband. “How’s Agent Tresser?” Etta asked herself, and there was just a hint of mischief in her brown eyes?

“Tom is fine,” Diana answered, choosing to ignore the subtle probe from her friend.

“Really? Just fine?” Etta said, her smile getting more mischievous.

“Really, Etta,” Diana said with a shake of her head, “this focus on my relationship is becoming a concern. At least when I’m working with my other colleagues down at the Hall, they don’t ask questions about each others love-lives.”

“That’s because most of them are guys,” Etta said. “And don’t fool yourself, D, they talk about this sort of stuff too. It’s just that instead of coffee and a quite café they usually choose beers and pole dancing.”

“I wouldn’t say that was exclusively a guy thing,” Diana said, remembering Black Canary’s bachelorette party. “But surely Steve never participated in that sort of thing.”

Etta laughed. “Sweety, he was an Air Force fighter pilot for twenty years. When they first get their wings, those guys alternate between beer and testosterone.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, I knew Steve wasn’t an angel in his youth. Hell, its not like I was a virgin bride,” she said with a wink. “You’re just lucky you met him when he’d actually grown up; ten years earlier and he’d probably still be chasing you round and calling you some cute little nick name.”

Diana grinned and shook her head. “I cant think of anyone else Steve would have pledged himself to but you, Etta.”

Etta nodded her head in acceptance of the compliment. “So,” she said, sipping her coffee, “now that we’ve settled things between me and my husband, lets get back to you and Tom.”

Diana also leaned back in her chair. “Fine,” she said in mock exasperation, throwing up her hands, “what do you suggest I do; go straight over to his house and ‘jump his bones’?”

“Well, it’s not like his bones have any obvious flaws,” Etta said with a laugh. “And to be truthful, Diana, I don’t see him doing any strenuous objecting to the idea.”

The Princess sighed. “I know, and Tom has been incredibly patient. And I must admit,” she said, with a quirky sort of grin, “I have been…thinking about things for some time now.”

“Really,” Etta practically purred. “Have you been shopping?”

“Shopping?”

“Don’t do coy with me, Agent Prince,” the blonde chastised mildly. “You’re not that good at it.” Her eyes bored into Diana’s. “Have you been looking for that special little something you want him to see you in the first time?” Etta leaned closer and dropped her voice. “Emphasis on the little.”

Diana shifted in her chair, and it didn’t take her heightened perception of touch to feel the heat in her cheeks. “Well, window shopping, perhaps,” she said, sipping her tea to hide her growing smile.

“Uh-huh,” Etta said, nodding in approval. “Well, just remember; for all his remarkable qualities, Thomas Tresser is still just a human being.” She placed one hand on Diana’s knee. “Try not to give him a stroke.”

The two women laughed together.

“Am I interrupting?” a woman’s voice asked from behind them.

Both turned and just for a moment Etta had the distinct impression of looking at two Diana’s – the one sitting at the table and another standing close behind her, wearing a black sundress. But at second glance the duplication was not quite perfect. The other woman was younger looking, not so tall, and her own black hair fell down straighter over her shoulders.

“Donna!” Diana said delightedly, standing up to embrace her sister in tight hug. She stepped back, still holding her. “This is a wonderful surprise. What are you doing here in Washington.”

“Looking for you, big sis,” the founding member of the Teen Titans answered. “Hello, Etta,” she added, smiling at the officer. “You look well.”

“You too,” Etta replied. Like Diana, Donna’s Amazon heritage meant that she was naturally athletic, tall, and aesthetically gorgeous. Not that they were exactly natural sisters. Diana had once tried to explain to Etta the whole story, but after half an hour to trying to understand spirit clones, malevolent entities, gods, titans, and alternate time lines, Etta had succeeded only in understanding a serious migraine.

“Is there something wrong?” Diana asked. “A problem with the Titans?”

“There is a problem,” Donna admitted, “but it’s not with the Titans.” She sat down next to Etta. “May I?” she asked, indicating the computer.

“Sure,” Etta said, sliding over a little to give Donna better access to the keyboard. The younger Amazon typed deftly, bringing up a website that Etta and Diana leaned closer to see.

“Amazons – The Real Truth,” Etta read from the sites home page. She scanned down the list of other pages in site menu. “History of bloodshed, Historical attitudes towards men, Pagan influences.”

“It gets worse,” Donna said, scrolling the page down a little to reveal more icons.

“Wall of Remembrance,” Etta muttered. Donna clicked on the icon and the page shifted to a view of dozens of thumbnail pictures, each showing a person or persons with a name and chronological age underneath. The page title at the top read ‘In Memory of Those Stolen From Us.’

“Wow,” Etta said.

“These pictures have all been posted by the loved ones of people who died in the attack on Washington,” Donna said, her face stony. “And more are posted every day. There’s a message board to; I’d rather not go through it in detail at the moment, but suffice to say the sentiment is decidedly hostile.”

“Can you blame them?”

Etta and Donna both turned to look at Diana. She was looking at the screen and showing neither surprise, nor dismay. “These people had friends and family slaughtered,” Diana went on. “Are your really surprised they would seek to share their grief and anger?”

Donna looked taken aback. “But, Diana, some of the things this site is saying simply isn’t true. Some of the details of Amazon beliefs, our history.” Donna shook her head. “It even makes Herakles and his army that enslaved our people look like freedom fighters.”

Diana eyes softened a little, but her voice remained calm. “Some of it is false, yes.” She nodded at the screen showing the people’s faces. “But some of it is true.”

“Hang on,” Etta said, looking at her friend shrewdly. “Diana, I get the feeling you knew about this site already.”
“Yes, I knew,” Diana replied simply.

“And you’ve done nothing about it?” Donna asked in bewilderment.

Diana sighed. “What would you have me do, Donna,” she asked in return, and Donna flinched a little at the sharpness in her tone. “Find the site owner, break down his door, and threaten him until he removes it? Somewhat self-defeating, wouldn’t you say? This man clearly has a great deal of pain and anger and I doubt further threats will help.” Diana rubbed her head, and took a sip of her tea. “Assuming it is a man.”

“You think it could be a woman?” Donna asked, her surprise mounting.

“It wasn’t only men who suffered and lost in the attack, Donna. And you’ve lived in this world long enough to know that just because someone is a woman, does not mean they are an Amazon.”

“I hate to say it, but I’m afraid Diana is right on this one,” Etta admitted reluctantly. “There’s stuff posted on the internet every day that’s a lot more disturbing than this, and is still technically legal. As far as I can tell at a glance, even if the people posting are pretty extreme in their views, the site itself isn’t actively advocating violence. Until it breaks the law, the First Amendment protects its right to exist.”

“I understand all of that,” Donna said, “but the site itself isn’t the only reason Mother asked me to talk to you.”

“Mother asked you?” Diana said, and it was her turn to sound surprised.

“Diana, this site – it isn’t just what it’s doing here, or even internationally. Somehow, it’s affecting Themyscria as well.”

Diana leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure, no one is. But yesterday, one of our sisters was looking at this site using a computer on our island.” Donna swallowed, then went on. “And an hour later...she went out to the courtyard gardens, put a rope around her neck, and committed suicide.”

A second later, the staff and other patrons of the cafe swivelled their heads towards the sound of Diana’s cup shattering as it fell from her nerveless hand.


To be contiued...