Clouds Incoming

"Play it again," the Joker demanded. His hands clenched and unclenched slowly, the wet fabric making creaking noises with each flex.

The man nervously pushed a few keys. On the screen, a dossier appeared. The opening pages were pictures of a young boy heading towards adulthood. The first few pictures, the child was young and healthy. After the age of four, he had acquired a nearly white pallor and strangely curling green hair. The bright blue eyes slowly lost their luster and acquired a tinge of madness. Then at age eight, the madness was arrested. The five pictures after that showed a more relaxed rage slowly growing in his eyes.

"Do you want to see all the videos?" The man asked, looking at the unfortunate remains of his companion. He hadn't wanted to watch the videos and had suffered the consequences.

"Puddin', I think he doesn't understand English," a coy voice said. A hand crawled over Joker's shoulder as Harley laid her chin on his arm. "He said play the video."

Joker let a small smile of satisfaction slip as the man hurriedly worked his keyboard. The three monitors overhead showed three different videos. Harley always knew how to get things done.

"We're gonna find him, Mr. J," Harley whispered into his ear. "We're gonna end them. How dare they try to duplicate greatness?"

"How dare they indeed. We need to show them the errors of their ways," Joker muttered, his eyes fixed on the boy on the screen. Instead of fights, his videos showed increasingly destructive chemical concoctions. "We need to crush them so they know who they were messing with."

*****

"You cannot leave machines of war lurking on the United States coast line," Bruce said, trying to keep his voice even.

"He may not have been born of our union, but I would know where this boy named Kaylen currently is," Mera said. Her cool stare shifted from Bruce to behind him where a line of generals and military staff milled.

"My son!" Aquaman growled, the trident in his hand shifting ominously. Lightning flashed in the distance. "Where is the boy? Why wasn't he turned over to us? Did your military keep him?"

"We have no knowledge of this boy," one of the generals blustered. "He wasn't among the children recovered."

"So you say," Mera said with undisguised hostility. Behind her was a general murmur of agreement.

"Arthur, you know we wouldn't have kept something like that from you," Bruce said, cursing whoever released the records in his mind. They were different from the now obviously sanitized ones they'd gotten when the Liberation occurred. "You would have been the first one to be notified."

"Like Diana was?" Arthur asked with an arch of his brow. Bruce was silent. It was common knowledge among their brethren that Diana hadn't been informed of Aarti's existence until the Liberation had been far into its planning stages, and even then it hadn't been planned. "I somehow doubt that your military would have let go of a chance to study even a halfling's biology."

Bruce viciously fought down the urge to throw up his hands and stalk away. He glanced to the side. Diana was standing there with an amused look on her face. The army of Atlantean war machines hadn't fazed her in the least. Instead she had been making remarks on their aesthetics and possible destructive capability.

"You're not helping," he told her to which she shrugged.

"Arthur has a point, but then again so do you. What if this boy was similar to Dorcas' unfortunate get? I have talked to my mother. She finds it fascinating that there were boys born to Amazons and is currently researching with the Elders," Diana remarked, turning to study another machine that surfaced. It resembled a whale with thorns embedded in its sides. "Truly fascinating works of war," she murmured.

Mera frowned at Diana and then snapped her fingers. An underling appeared beside her, his stance subservient. She whispered to him, and he immediately vanished. Arthur turned to look at Mera with a heavy frown which he then turned towards the generals.

"We are working to discover where this new lair might be," the first general hastened to assure him with another nervous look at Diana. Her status as a demi-goddess was now well dissembled among the masses no matter what anyone had wished. "We will have coordinates as soon as humanly possible."

The aide reappeared by Mera's side and whispered. Mera paled and then leaned into Arthur. She reached up and whispered into his ear. It was as if the wind was knocked out of him.

"So you believe my son is deceased?" Arthur snarled at Bruce, but it was clearly halfhearted.

"That may be so," Bruce replied cautiously. "We're not sure of anything yet, old friend. More investigation is needed."

"And if he is, indeed, dead, then his blood demands vengeance," Mera said. "He is still a prince of Atlantis, and those who harmed him need to be dealt with."

"Indeed," Arthur echoed. He turned to look at the floating army. "It is a good thing we came loaded for vengeance."

Bruce was speechless while Diana's silvery laugh echoed over the waves.

*****

"You did properly sanitize the records, right?" Carol asked, brushing off her hands as she stood up.

"There's no undue mentions that would get us in trouble," Lucy said. She finished wiping down her kitchenette counter. "No one ever tells you that baking can be so messy," she remarked to the air.

"If people knew, would they really do it," Rena asked as she walked past on her way towards one of the sofas. She snagged a remote from the pile on the newly installed coffee table. "Now which one are you?" She muttered as she aimed the remote at the televisions and pressed buttons until she located the television it belonged to. "Score! No one's there!"

Lucy laughed as she watched Rena trot to a sofa and plop down. The original television square had been broken down into little pods of television-sofa-side table. She had no clue when it had happened. It was like she'd just looked up from baking some extra caramel peanut butter crisps, and it had been rearranged.

"It's been seventy-two hours. Since everyone has been watching our little presents, I've gotten eighteen phone calls from my dad. They've ranged from 'where are you?' to 'how are you?' to 'did you know these kids?' I think I'm starting to have a complex." Cassidy complained from another sofa. Unlike Rena, she was disinterested in the news running on the televisions.

"The only thing we appended to our files was the general fighting," Lucy assured Carol. "I'm not interested in generating any extra interest, especially not in Court."

"And where is lover boy, anyway?" Rena asked, turning around to look at Lucy.

"He said that he needed some time away. Probably went to go look at those parents of his," Lucy said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She surveyed her little kitchenette with satisfaction. "Looks like I never baked a loaf," she said happily.

"Well, if it hadn't been for their non-help, we wouldn't have gotten past those first few doors," Carol conceded.

"There is that," Rena agreed. "Still, isn't that risky? Aren't they in some high-security lockdown place?"

"For Court? Not an issue," Lucy said blithely. She paused. "I keep thinking that we forgot something, but I just can't remember what."

"Don't worry. It'll come to you." Rena assured her. "It always does."

Cassidy and Lucy exchanged worried looks at that. It was true, but sometimes Lucy would realize things just a bit too late.