Chapter 5
J'onn walked slowly through the Chinatown portion of Gotham. No one paid him any mind, as he had disguised himself in his human guise. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the way he looked.
Inside, however, he was a bundle of nerves.
Batman had "requested" this meeting when he contacted J'onn on his JL communicator. He'd referred vaguely to certain "activities" J'onn had engaged in during his previous visit to Gotham. A visit J'onn hadn't felt necessary to inform him of.
Putting aside Batman's bizarre idea that even members of the Justice League needed his permission to come to Gotham for _any_ purpose, it had been a strange message, and the cold pit in his stomach stemmed from J'onn's belief that Batman had learned of the Talia incident. Undoubtedly the woman had informed Batman herself. He couldn't blame her for lashing out.
J'onn entered the restaurant and found it empty. Batman had also insisted that, rather than flying in, J'onn come to the roof of this building through the stairs inside.
Even though no one was there, J'onn didn't feel he had the right to barge into the rear of the establishment and march up the stairs, so he respectfully coughed and waited.
After a moment a wizened old woman came out. "Store closed," she said in heavily accented English.
"I was told to come here," he said.
"Hmph. Sit." She gestured to a table in the center of the room.
"But . . ."
"Sit," she commanded before exiting once more.
Helplessly he sat.
A few moments later, he heard a woman's footsteps behind him, followed by a feminine hand passing over his left shoulder and setting a glass of water before him. A menu materialized in similar fashion.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but I did not come here to . . ."
"To what?" Talia al-Ghul asked as she walked past him and languidly took the seat across from him. "See Batman?"
Stunned, J'onn almost lurched back in his chair.
"Oh, please, don't have a fit," she said acidly.
"I am sorry," he said again. "You must have me confused with someone else."
"There are a half-dozen monitors outside of this room," Talia replied, "and they've all told me that your anatomical structure isn't human."
"What have you done with Batman?" he demanded, no longer bothering to pretend.
"Nothing," she said casually.
"Then how did you know I was to meet him here?"
"You weren't. You're here to meet me."
J'onn stared at her. She stared back. "It isn't very funny when it's done to you, is it?" she added. "Being fooled by an impostor, I mean."
He rose from his chair again and stepped back, assuming a defensive position. "And so you repay me by setting a trap?"
Talia sighed. "Why are men from Mars no different from men on Earth?" she asked rhetorically. "If you mean 'luring you here under false pretenses', then yes, it's a trap. If you mean 'luring you here to torture and kill you', then no, it is not."
J'onn glared at her. "Then why are you here?"
"To talk. Sit. Please."
Warily he sat. "You hacked into my communicator."
"We can hack into any of your communicators."
"How?"
"As a sign of good faith, I will tell you. Bruce can be quite careless around the Batcave. He leaves things just lying around."
J'onn's eyes widened. "You've been to the Batcave?"
"You're surprised?"
" . . . I suppose it wasn't hard for you to figure out where it was," he admitted.
"No, it wasn't," she agreed. "So if one of your League has ever been summoned to an emergency that didn't exist, it may have been because we wanted you out of your way, J'onn."
He clenched his fists. "You know my name."
"I know a great deal about all of you. You have absolutely no concept of radio silence on those devices of yours. The Flash especially has given our organization much information." Talia took her glass and sipped the water.
"Why are you telling me all this?" J'onn asked, folding his arms.
"I am sacrificing a valuable bit of information-gathering technology so you will calm down and relax," Talia responded.
"Why should I?" he asked then. "We didn't part on good terms, Ms. al-Ghul."
"Talia, please," she said dryly. "Now that you've seen me naked, I hardly think we should remain on a last-name basis."
He colored as more pleasant memories of that night surfaced in his brain. She _had_ been surprisingly good to touch . . . J'onn shook his head slightly. "If you want me to relax," he said, "I would feel more comfortable if you would explain yourself better."
She nodded, but then she looked away. "You have made my life complicated, J'onn," she said.
"You had to be shown."
"I always expected Bruce to try something like that," Talia said. "I prepared myself for false images designed to deceive me."
"You honestly think it was a trick?" he asked, surprised.
"You weren't very honest with me that night, were you?" she snapped angrily.
He looked down. This was true.
"But," she said heavily, "I believe you."
"Why?"
"I expected something a bit more over-the-top. Images of how Bruce has never loved me, of how it was all a lie, of . . ." Her hand trembled and her lips curved upward in a pained smile. "I did not expect to see what I saw."
"Which was what?"
"Those first, tentative memories," she said softly. "The stirrings he felt for me. The extent to which he cared for me." Talia didn't even wipe away the tear that slid down her cheek. "It made what followed all the more painful - all the things I did that pushed him away, destroyed what he felt for me." She closed her eyes and turned her head.
"Talia - "
"And you," she interrupted hotly, opening her eyes again and glaring at him. "You didn't just _show_ me those memories. Somehow you burned them into my brain with a soldering iron! Every memory I have of him, they have all been changed by his memories of me. I see those moments from both our perspectives, and - moments I thought were beautiful, now they are twisted. You have tainted what we had!"
"You could not merely be shown," he replied. "Even before I looked into his mind, he had told me of those times you simply refused to face facts. You needed to be forced to see, Talia. And I am sorry if I hurt you, but I did what I felt was necessary."
"And would you have made _love_ to me," she retorted, "with _his_ face, if you felt it _necessary_?"
J'onn sighed. "I - do not know. It would not be a decision I could easily live with."
Talia nodded. "Well, I am the one who has to live with the decision you made now. Thanks to your 'gift' of knowledge, I have to live with knowing that I can never have the man I love, and that much of the fault is mine. I'm sure Bruce will be very happy when I stop bothering him, but now it is I who must be miserable."
"We've all done things we regret," J'onn said. "And we all have to live with them. Including you, Talia."
"Yes," she whispered.
They sat uncomfortably for a minute. "Why am I here, Talia?" J'onn finally asked. "To apologize? For my deception, yes, I am sorry. For cutting through your own self-deception, no."
"I don't want an apology," she said irritably.
"Then what?"
"I just - want to talk, all right? Without - " She scowled, her face darkening. "I built my future around a life with Bruce. Now I have to figure out what I'm going to do next. Since this is your doing, the least you can do is talk with me. It's not exactly something I can talk to my father about, and most DEMON agents aren't very good at thinking for themselves."
J'onn hesitated. "About what?"
"I don't know. Life? Good versus evil? Whether leather or spandex is more appealing?" She dropped her hand onto the table. "The other night notwithstanding, our findings indicate you are a man of honor. If you are a man, that is - a great many of our people say you are not from Mars at all."
"Where could I possibly be from then?" he asked, surprised.
"In the East there are those who say you are the last dragon," she said. "I think it was those pictures of you with a tail, actually. Superstitious nonsense, of course. Although much of what you do is very like magic. The flying, the walking through walls, the transformations - the mind reading."
J'onn chuckled. "So I am a dragon, and you are a demon. We are fantasy come to life."
She smiled for the first time in a while.
"What were you saying about my being a man of honor?"
"Just that you are fond of the truth. So tell me - the other night, I could tell you were becoming aroused." She looked at him without embarrassment. "Was that part of your act, or did you actually feel something?"
He coughed into his fist. "This is something you want to know."
"I've never been with a Martian that way. Or a dragon."
"It was - nice," he admitted.
"I see," she replied. "Your Flash talks like an old woman. How do you stand it?"
"Practice," he said with a straight face.
They laughed quietly.
_______________________________________________
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice," Mercy said from her desk.
"It isn't a problem," Koriand'r replied. "My agent said you had an assignment for me? Because usually I let him handle scheduling my modeling shoots, but he said you insisted on a personal meeting."
"I did," Mercy told her, "but it's not for modeling work."
"Oh?"
"Yes, you see I saw you on the news two days ago."
Koriand'r nodded politely.
Mercy paused. "What do you know of this corporation?" she asked, circling around the reason for this meeting.
"Very little," Koriand'r said. "There is much of your planet I am unfamiliar with. My agent said you're one of the biggest employers in Metropolis."
"In the world," Mercy corrected her. "We're THE largest employer in Metropolis. Have you ever heard of its former CEO, Lex Luthor?"
"I believe I've heard the name once or twice," Koriand'r replied. "He's running for political office now, right?"
Mercy exhaled. "Yes, he is," she said. "Ms. Anders, I saw your performance during that fire, and I was impressed. Is flying the only thing you can do?"
"Actually, no," Koriand'r said. "But why do you want to know?"
"Because," Mercy finally told her, "I want to hire you as my bodyguard, and I need to know what skills you have."
Koriand'r looked at her, bewildered. "Your what?"
"Bodyguard. You know, for protection from people who might want to hurt me."
"And do you think there is someone who wants to hurt you?"
"I think someone wants to kill me, actually."
"Then shouldn't you contact the police? Or Superman, this is his protectorate. I'm sure he would help you."
Mercy sighed. "I doubt it. Besides, they have other things to worry about. If someone tries to kill me, it could happen at any time. I need someone who will be with me at all hours."
"I - guess that makes sense," Koriand'r said, much to Mercy's relief. She hadn't wanted to scare the alien off with explanations as to _why_ Superman might not help her. "Who is it that wants to kill you?"
"My old boss," Mercy said. "I used to be his bodyguard, if you can believe it. Lex Luthor."
Koriand'r blinked. "Luthor? The man we were talking about? The one running for _office_?"
"Before he was a politician, Lex was a criminal," Mercy explained. "He even fought with the Justice League several times. You can ask them what kind of man he is, if you ever speak to them."
"Then what hope does he have of being elected?"
"None," Mercy agreed. "But he thinks he can always get what he wants. That's why he's trying to have me killed. Because I won't give him what he wants."
Koriand'r looked down for a moment. "I can fight," she then said, raising her eyes. "I have years of combat training. I also have the ability to absorb the sun's energy and use it to fire bolts from my hands."
"Interesting," Mercy said. "However, you would have to give up your modeling job if you were willing to work for me. I can't have you away for a week on a beach somewhere."
"Well . . . it's funny you should ask."
"Why?"
"I was thinking of quitting the business."
Mercy was surprised. "Really? You must have gotten a lot of additional exposure because of the news item. You must be more in demand than ever."
"I am, I am," Koriand'r sighed. "You see, on my planet, we don't have the same attitude toward the flesh that you Earthlings do."
"The flesh?"
"The human body, if you like. Your attitudes are very strange to me. On the one hand you're so titillated by it, and on the other you're ashamed to show it. On Tamaran," Koriand'r said, "we didn't obsess over it. It wasn't strange to see people walking about in the barest stitches of clothing. It was nothing to be ashamed of, or worth commenting on."
"Modeling would be the perfect job for you then," Mercy observed. "Since you don't have a problem with people seeing your body."
"I didn't - I mean, I don't. It's just - ever since I started appearing in magazines," Koriand'r tried to explain, "everybody looks at me on the street. And the way they look at me - it makes me feel self-conscious in a way I never did on Tamaran. I feel naked under their eyes, even when I'm fully dressed."
"I know the feeling," Mercy said.
"How do you bear it?"
"Men are animals," the executive replied, shrugging. "You get used to it."
"I wouldn't go so far as to say all men are animals," Koriand'r said. "But it makes my skin crawl. I feel like they're touching me. I thought maybe if I stopped letting them photograph me, they would stop."
"It will never stop completely, not for a woman with your looks," Mercy said honestly. "But if you retreat from the public eye, men will find their fancies turning to other women."
Koriand'r looked doubtful. "I don't know - Raven!"
"Who?"
"My roommate Raven. She works in New York, but she doesn't earn much. I can't let her live there all alone, she won't be able to afford it. Plus we've been companions for a long time. I couldn't leave her."
"Companions?" Mercy asked.
"Yes," Koriand'r replied, not understanding.
"You mean like . . . well, lovers?"
Koriand'r stared, then laughed out loud. "Oh, X'Hal, no. Not lovers, just a dear friend."
"Well," Mercy said, "maybe she could move up here with you. Listen, I'm going out to dinner. At least come with me and we can discuss possible salary, hours, that sort of thing."
"If you don't mind - since you asked me here because you feel you're in danger," Koriand'r decided, "I should at least hear you out."
"Wonderful."
Five minutes later the two were in Mercy's limousine. "I see what you meant," Mercy told her. "My employees were very interested to see you leave."
Koriand'r flushed.
"Yes, she certainly is pretty."
Mercy started, and glared at the back of the driver's head as he drove away. "You can keep those remarks to yourself, Marcus, or you'll be looking for a new job."
"Don't worry, I already have one."
The car continued driving even as the driver took his hands off the wheel and turned to face them. "Hello, Ms. Graves."
Mercy gasped. "Edward Lytner?!"
"It's Luminus now, remember?"
"What are you doing in my car?!"
"You mean, what are _you_ doing in _my_ car?"
"What?"
"This is a solid-light hologram, Ms. Graves, not a real car," he explained. "Just like I'm a hologram, not the real Luminus. So, for example, if I wanted to, I could make both the car and myself disappear. Of course, you'd still be going at seventy miles an hour, though."
"You arrogant bastard," she spat at him.
"Luthor did me quite a bad turn when he fired me after that Daily Planet article, Ms. Graves."
"That was years ago! Why don't you bother him?"
"I did," he said. "He convinced me I could make more money bothering you instead."
Mercy glanced at Koriand'r, who nodded. "I guess you were right," the alien beauty said.
"Lytner, when I get my hands on you _and_ your - "
"Sorry, Ms. Graves, but you won't be getting your hands on anything but the pavement," he told her. "This car is about to go over an embankment in thirty seconds. I think I'll turn the car off on the way down. I wouldn't want you to see the ground rushing to meet you through tinted windows. It would spoil the view."
Koriand'r slid next to Mercy. "As soon as we start to fall," she whispered, "hold on tight."
Mercy nodded.
"Enjoy your flight, ladies," Luminus added, glancing at Koriand'r. "I do hate to see a body like that meeting an untimely fate."
"Animal," Koriand'r retorted as she felt the car smash through the concrete embankment and sail through the air. She shot a fist out in his direction. The blast of energy struck Luminus and scattered his image into atoms a second after his face registered his surprise.
She dispelled the hologram of the car as well, and Mercy suddenly found herself suspended over rush hour traffic on the freeway - one hundred feet below. The overpass was a few car lengths to her right. And the only thing keeping her from falling was her arms wrapped tightly around Koriand'r neck. The only thing keeping Koriand'r afloat, of course, was that she could fly.
"You _are_ in danger," Koriand'r said angrily.
"You saved my life," Mercy realized.
"I cannot refuse your request," the other woman replied. "You need my help. I accept the offer." She stopped. "You never actually said the job was mine," she pointed out.
"You're hired," Mercy said instantly.
"Problem, ladies? Koriand'r? Mercy?!"
The two women looked up and saw Metropolis' own Superman hovering nearby.
"You're late," Mercy grumbled. "_This_ is why I need a bodyguard."
Superman looked at Koriand'r. "She can't be serious."
"She is," Koriand'r said, puzzled. "Someone just tried to kill her, and she needs my help."
"That thing you did with your hands was pretty amazing," Mercy told her. "Have you ever thought about a special name like the other heroes?"
"A special name?" Koriand'r asked.
"Firing the energy of the sun like that - Sunfire? No, that sounds like a car . . . Starfire!"
"Starfire - I like it!"
Superman looked appalled.
To be continued . . .
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