The Storm (II)

Cassidy and Lucy sat side by side, staring at the huge monitor. It was nearly four feet across and displayed everything vividly. Rena had fled after the second or third file. Dawnie had shown up briefly during the fifth to report that they'd brought Leilani back and placated her with the makings of a candy theme park.

While Cassidy had questions about just what that would entail, Dawnie had taken one glance at the monitor after reporting Leilani's condition and vanished. Cassidy had been impressed by that; she never knew that Dawnie could be so fast. Lucy had only huffed in acknowledgement of the report.

"Which one do we use first," Cassidy asked after the tenth one finished.

"All of them," Lucy said. "Different targets require different bait."

*****

"You're not going to like it," Bruce said in a low voice, staring at Diana who was pacing in his Batcave. She'd been haunting it ever since they lost the girls in that mansion.

"I haven't liked it since I lost track of Artemis," Diana shot back. She rubbed her arms with her hands. "Why is it so cold here?"

"It's not that cold," Bruce replied, hiding his concern.

Ever since she woke from the coma a few years ago, Diana had been a bit susceptible to cold. He had had suspicions that had been answered by the mysterious files that kept showing up everywhere lately. There were a lot of questions being answered and some that hadn't even been dreamt of.

"Okay, Bruce. Enough about me. Tell me about Artemis or whatever it is that you have found." Diana sat on a nearby table, idly flicking an errant strand of hair out of her face.

Bruce took a deep breath and brought up an image on the screen. There was a photo collage of Artemis from baby to when they came to know her at ten. Each photo was the same, a mugshot of front and side with her name and a number above her head. The number was an ominous '48.' Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Diana abandon her casual stance, her brow furrowing.

Bruce pressed a key. A video started playing of a toddler Artemis trying to dodge various projectiles. The video ended after she'd been struck three times. The next video was of an older Artemis, and the projectiles were far more dangerous than the previous bean bags. It ended with Artemis holding her dangling arm with her free hand, glaring at the camera. Two guards were also shown advancing with stun sticks, their ends dancing with electricity.

"They dare!" Diana burst out, jumping to her feet.

"I fear they did and worse, but I'm not going to show you those." Bruce made the video disappear from his monitor, replaced by a collage of similar looking windows with tiny thumbnails of other children. "Most of the Liberated are shown here, and there are some that aren't."

"What do you mean 'aren't' shown, Bruce?" Diana paused in her stalk towards the exit via the mansion.

"I mean that there are children we had no knowledge of in these videos and what happens to them is vividly documented." A thread of disgusted anger wound through his words.

"How many children?" Diana asked, coming back. She scanned the screen, her gaze snagged by a child that looked hauntingly familiar. "That boy reminds me of Dorcas but she disappeared years and years ago."

Bruce zeroed in on the thumbnail. With a click, the file expanded to fill the screen. The boy's photo collage ended at seven, but there were far more of them than of Artemis. In each photo, he was increasingly bruised. There was also a growing defiance in his gaze. Bruce skipped most of the videos attached to the file, choosing the last one.

In it, the boy was seen facing off against a full-grown guard, armed with only a short sword while the guard had a long sword. The battle was surprisingly long despite the odds, though the boy wound up skewered by the guard who laughed in victory. There was a long litany of alien words appended, quickly followed by an english translation.

Bruce's face worked for a moment as he read the translation. Behind him, Diana swiftly retreated, muttering dark words of vengeance. They'd literally taken the boy apart to see how his body functioned.

"How many are documented?" Diana asked from behind him.

"Too many," Bruce replied. He scowled as he called the collage of pictures back up. "I would have to go through all the Liberated files to see how many extra there are. I have a feeling that if we wait, someone else will provide the answer."

"This went out globally?" Diana asked.

"Yes, and the genetic donors are highlighted in some of the releases. That is not a good thing." Bruce tapped on his keyboard. The collage broke into sections. He highlighted one. "This section is problematic. None of these children survived, and their genetic donors are prominently highlighted. There is a high probability that whoever released these files are targeting these people."

DIana peered over his shoulder, frowning at pictures. She zeroed in on one boy who was staring peacefully at the camera, his expression nondescript.

"What about this one?" She asked.

Bruce clicked on the picture. The boy's picture was labeled 'Kaylen 001.' There were ten videos attached. They frowned through them. The boy's performance was rather brilliant. He took little damage from any of the battles, using what seemed to be a minor form of psychic attack to distract his attackers.

"He wasn't among the Liberated," Diana mused, her eyes scanning the translated notes after the data. "He's labeled as commander class. Just what--?"

"This is definitely going to be a problem," Bruce said, his disquiet growing. The list of the boy's genetic donors popped up under his ministrations.

Glowing in colors that were clearly foreign to the originals were the names Arthur Curry and Karen Beecher-Duncan.

"Karen?" Diana said, startled.

"And that's what caught your attention?" Bruce asked dryly.

*****

"Those murdering whoresons," thundered a voice.

The very oceans shook at the growing rage. Then they started to boil as machines of war started rumbling to the surface.

*****

"This took longer than four hours," Rena said, sipping on a freshly opened pineapple orange soda.

"But it was so much more satisfying," Cassidy said, drinking an identical one next to her.

"Well, it had to be done, and look at all that lovely chaos," Lucy sighed. She took a bite of caramel chocolate chip cookie. "I even got to gaslight the old man."

"Fire, Lucy, pure fire," Carol sighed as she looked up from the carousel horse she was making out of carefully smoothed white peppermint sticks.

"I think we should sell this one, and after we get everyone back, we make Paul pretend to be an adult and enter the ferris wheel into that contest we found. That's twenty-five thousand right there!" Leilani said after a dismissive glance at the television.

The television screens were full of the storm that a mysterious release of information had caused. People were demanding answers, and villains had broken out of prisons and asylums searching for hidden alien bases, infuriated. Politicians had no answers and were making foolish promises, and the warmongers were having a field day.

"Still, I have to agree. This is more satisfying," Lucy said, clinking her glass of milk with Cassidy's bottle of soda.

"And we still haven't let our troops out to play yet," Cassidy agreed with a happy sigh.