Dolnam will deliver Manta to Atlantis himself, and will attend the trial whenever it is set.
Without any major crises at hand, he will resume his identity as Maghnus, spend some time with his girlfriend Melissa, and resume writing his novel.
When he has a chance, he will call on the Hall of Justice, and see about potentially joining the League as their liaison under the sea.
Shale spends his time following up on some previous mysteries. He will visit Star Labs and see what he can find out what they have discovered about the goop that was left over after Super Girl's disappearance. He will also check in with whomever the League's resident medical/biological expert happens to be, and see if they have a post mortum report on the two incinerated bodies we discovered in the Hall of Justice that appeared to be Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian. Shale will be approaching both from a highly skeptical viewpoint, making the assumption in both cases (the martians and Kara) that someone has likely kidnapped the parties in question, and fabricated the remains to cover the disappearance.
Regardless of what the results appear to be, he will scour the news and planetwide reports for unusual activity that could potentially be linked to the disappearances. He'll also use the Watchtower's communication system to send an information request to the Green Lantern corps as well, asking about the appearance of anyone on the interplanetary scene that might fit the description of a Martian or a Kryptonian. If either or all had been kidnapped, the usual MO of most bad guys would be to brainwash or otherwise mind-control their new captives, and use them to commit whatever crime they had in mind.
STAR Labs current expert on Martian physiology and technology is Dr. Alexander Ferguson. He works primarily at the Metropolis Lab. He welcomes SHALE as a representative of the League, and is happy to brief him on their preliminary findings.
Dr. Ferguson, call me Alex, leads SHALE into a room lit in red that resembles the red of the Martian landscape. "I find that surrounding myself with the colors in which the Martians evolved sometimes helps to see things that are not readily apparent in the harsh blue-white light of Earth. Of course, we have a wide variety of scanning capabilities. Here we have the two burned husks. We can confirm that they are Martian in origin, though with the Martian's variable DNA structure, there is no way to know for sure which Martians they are based on physical scans. We have been in telepathic contact through some G-nomes loaned to us by Cadmus, and the two do appear to be Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian. They have been badly burned, and their vulnerability to fire seems to include a mental lock that prevents them from recovering from the injuries. In other words, it is not their bodies but their minds that are keeping them from healing. As for the material recovered from the destruction of Supergirl, it is my analysis that the material is Martian ectoplasm, the remainder of a physical and psychic projection created by the mind of a Martian. In this case, I believe that Miss Martian was creating the appearance that Supergirl was fighting with the League through a combination of psychic projection and possibly sometimes shapechanging."
With Atlanteans busy rebuilding from their Starro domination, Aquagirl nominates Dolnam to take her place as the active representative of the Oceans on the League, and Dolnam is accorded full League status.
But did Metropolis win the Superbowl again?
|
Kara has...a lot to do, and very little of it comes under her definition of "fun." The Lex-Sec collect as many specimens of the Star-o-phytes as they can, and the sub is delivered, as promised, to the nearest LexCorp docking facility.
The Black Mantis crew, under threat of nasty mind-things and promises of piles of dirty, dirty money, are delivered to minions of her father who debrief them.
Kara joins the questioning, and together they try to learn about Black Mantis' plans, logistical operation, and technology.
The Star-o-phytes too are delivered to LexCorp R&D to be researched on their alien physiology and mental powers. Some lines of research look promising.
Imagine continues mental conversations with the Star-o-thingys, partly because she finds them interesting, and partly because it's so hard to find anything that fully understands mind-speech, she's happy to talk to them.
Well, it's more a talk 'at' them, but still.
Part of the research that comes out the Star-o-phyte analysis is a mental technique to project mental power in roughly the same way that the Lex-Belt projects energy power. Whereas the L-belt stimulates cells by photogenic energy to regenerate, Kara leans of a way to stimulate cells using, for lack of a better term, 'good feelings'.
But did Metropolis win the Superbowl again?
The Metropolis Meteors came back to defeat the Central City Lightning after being down by 23 points.
Sinter will be forced to pantomime a high five as he can't actually touch anyone.
Sinter is on monitor duty one night, taking in a combination of police frequencies from around the world and a Metropolis Comet basketball game. Sometimes, floating here high above the Earth, Sinter feels a sense of Vertigo, a strange sense of place. How did he get here? How did this happen to him?
As the game is coming to an end, a buzzer beater shot arcs across the court, the game is tied, somehow Sinter's stomach tenses even though he doesn't have a stomach, and the power on the station cuts out with a thunk. Emergency lights bathe the bridge in green light, though Sinter's own glow beats back the darkness around him. He stares at the monitors and hologram projectors, unable to punch any buttons or move any levers. He tries to issue voice commands, but nothing responds, not even VIC.
Then, he hears a voice behind him. He turns to see a hologram projected onto the bridge, a faceless man wearing a blue overcoat and fedora, like something out of a Bogart movie. "So what is it that we call you? JLA? Justice League ARGUS? Servants of the Fascist Grayson and the Military-Technologogist Complex? A Luthor running the team? I'm here, Sinter, as you call yourself, to tell you to stand down. Right now, your friend Imagine is reverse engineering the mind control abilities of the Starro to use against the populace. And here you sit, watching sports, the new opiate of the people. Stand down, Sinter, before you surrender what is left of your humanity. We will handle the hero stuff. And more importantly, we will handle the ones you call your allies. Where is Superman, Sinter? Where is Supergirl? Where is Batman? How convenient is it that all of these heroes are missing, and some schmuck like you is running the Watchtower?"
And the hologram wavers and disappears. The power returns. The game is over.
As Dolnam is at his computer one night, doing another editing pass on what he has written that day, the screen suddenly wavers and dissolves. The screen takes on the appearance of an old green phosphor screen and begins to type out a message with that very old fashioned green rectangle moving to reveal each letter.
Maghnus, you have hitched your fish to the wrong wagon. Abandon the so called Justice League now. Write your novel, enjoy your life, and represent the Tuatha. Your ancient gods have no wish for you to be a tool in the subversion of the human race by a group of fascists and decepticons. If you need a reason to listen, here you go:
At that, the screen is filled with images of you in your normal life, the girlfriend, bank accounts, footage of the fight with Starro, and you shopping for groceries.
"'Convenient'? The hell does he mean by that? This has been the most inconvenient thing to happen to me in my life!"
As Dolnam is at his computer one night, doing another editing pass on what he has written that day, the screen suddenly wavers and dissolves. The screen takes on the appearance of an old green phosphor screen and begins to type out a message with that very old fashioned green rectangle moving to reveal each letter.
Maghnus, you have hitched your fish to the wrong wagon. Abandon the so called Justice League now. Write your novel, enjoy your life, and represent the Tuatha. Your ancient gods have no wish for you to be a tool in the subversion of the human race by a group of fascists and decepticons. If you need a reason to listen, here you go:
At that, the screen is filled with images of you in your normal life, the girlfriend, bank accounts, footage of the fight with Starro, and you shopping for groceries.
Maghnus tries to type back.
"Who is this? And why do you have cameras miles underwater in nondescript parts of the ocean?"
"Huh? What's an 'oh pee ate'?" he asks the Hologram before it vanishes giving him no response.
I'm not sure what that was supposed to mean. We just saved the world, and Imagine helped. Why would I betray my friends?
and then aloud "AND THEY MADE ME MISS THE DAMNED ENDING OF THE GAME!" in a stentorian buzzing voice.
in a normal tone "Cyborg, can you patch me in to everyone, I think we need an alert. Also, do you have any information on the power failure a couple seconds ago?"
"Huh? What's an 'oh pee ate'?" he asks the Hologram before it vanishes giving him no response.
I'm not sure what that was supposed to mean. We just saved the world, and Imagine helped. Why would I betray my friends?
and then aloud "AND THEY MADE ME MISS THE DAMNED ENDING OF THE GAME!" in a stentorian buzzing voice.
in a normal tone "Cyborg, can you patch me in to everyone, I think we need an alert. Also, do you have any information on the power failure a couple seconds ago?"
"I have no record of a power failure, Sinter. Now broadcasting to all active duty Justice League Members"
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"Whahat? Yaaaa! HAHAHahaha!" Kara laughs at her friends drunkenly as synth-pop plays loudly in the background. The Sweet Doomed Angel might not have the best music, or the best booze, or even the best management (it couldn't, it wasn't owned by LexCorp) but it did have the best people. Or, at least, the weirdest people who had the best rate of not remembering things accurately from the night before, which allowed her to really cut loose and just...be herself.
"Whahahat? Hey! Hang a tick!" she yells, getting out her L-Phone and checking a vibrating ring that somehow burst through her 'silent' setting. "Ah F*~+! I...I gotta bail. Nah, it's not him, it's...it's sumthin' else. Nah, I'll catch you next. Laterz!"
Dropping the pretense of normality, Imagine straight-up mind controls the bartender to put a cold Red Minotaur on the bar so it's ready as she grabs it heading out the door. She slams the alchemical concoction of caffeine and ginseng and gets on her radio.
"You boys dressed? Sweet. I'll be in atmo. Come grab me in the bird."
A few minutes later Imagine flies into the circling airplane, and the whole team gathers, preparing for transmit to Watchtower.
As they are patched in to the WatchTower comms Imagine glares at Sinter. "Oh. What. The. F#~&? You better have a REALLY good reason for tearing me away from Bobby and his AMZAAAAAAING penis!
Man. He was gonna make it do the dance tonight too."
Captain Aterro would get offended, or sick, or vexed, but having guarded Kara as long as he had, that doesn't even break a top ten.
"What? Who? No, I don't want to know. " he replies in his normal buzzing tone.
"I was going monitor duty and someone or something shut down everything and there was an image of a faceless man in a fedora and suit telling me that the JLA is corrupt, and you're doing bad stuff. When power came back on VICTOR didn't recall any of it. Now I'm not the brains of this team, but something which can shut down the Watchtower seems to me to be pretty serious. "
"The description of a faceless man in a fedora suggests a former Justice League member called The Question. The Question is obsessed with hidden knowledge and conspiracies. He is an accomplished martial artist but has no super powers. His intellect and abilities as a detective are approximately equivalent to that of Batman or Director Grayson. While the population at large considers him a crackpot, he should be considered 'pretty serious.'?
"Pretty serious without any powers? He must have a lot of resources like a Luthor or something. " then he remembers Imagine
"No offense. "
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Kara's mouth hangs open. "WHAT?!? You rouse me out of a chance to have angreeable sess of bump'n'uglies for a QUESTION? Wait, is your question about me doin' bad stuff? Because I -toooooold- -yoooou- I haven't had a CHANCE to do any bad stuff yet!
Soooooooo exactly what question would that be that so freekin' important that put you A-P-freekin-B out? You, you wanna see 'em, don't you. Some nights that all anybody wants to ask me, so I don't see how -this night- should be any freekin' different. All right all right, fiiiine! But only this once."
Kara starts to unbutton her shirt.
****
"Y'know what, no, I changed my mind," she says, half-way done. "I'm not gonna N-able your bad behavior. You want that, you do it the -right- way, no'what'ahm'sayin'? I'll pencil you in for tomorrow night, 8 pm SHARP. I'll make reservations at L'Inflamme,' they cater to your kind.
Bring money. I'm -not- paying."
Kara cuts the line and waves off the LexSec. She turns the bird around, wondering if Bobby is too drunk to make it dance yet.
Completely befuddled by her behavior, Sinter looks at the others to see if they can make her make sense.
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True to her word, Kara Luthor shows up on Sinter's doorstep at 8pm sharp. As would be expected for a Luthor on a first date, she's dressed to the nines. A form-hugging white chiffon dress cascades down her sin-wave curves in a manner both elegant and sensual. (An inspection of the material would reveal it to be flame-retardant Ferro-Fibrous, an experimental fabric still in development by LexCorp.)
"Hey-ya!" she says, deciding to honor the occasion with voice-talk. "Ready?"
Assuming Sinter is, indeed, ready, Kara motions to the nearby Chinook helicopter. "What? Like, take a car? Ugh, traffic is -so- pedestrian" she says without a hint of irony.
The helicopter makes a short trip to the heart of the city, landing on a nondescript rooftop.
The couple is greeted by a biped robot in the bulky shape of a fire-hazed demolition suit. "Greetings," it says in a smooth voice. Only a mild modularity belies it's inorganicness. "Welcome to L'Inflamme, Ms Luthor and....?'
The robot waits for the fire-being to introduce himself, Kara watching the exchange with a slight smile and amused silence.
"Umm, Sinter. "
I think I'm supposed to keep a secret identity. Then again nobody knows Nelson Mertz anyway. he thinks to himself.
"Does this place have a good fire suppression system?" he says to the robot while looking around and trying not to touch anything.
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Kara giggles lightly, and if a robot could look amused, this one would. "Excellent, Mr. Sinter. Alas, L'Inflamme has no fire-suppression system. Right this way, won't you?"
The robot walks toward a protruding doorway, and, true to form, Imagine slinks along with the practiced step of someone who practices slinking.
The door enters into a non-descript building stairway. Going down one floor the trio approaches large glass doors with the restaurant's name in bright red letters. The doors open automatically and the robot beckons to be followed. "Right this way. We've prepared your usual table, Ms. Luthor."
The doors reveal a spacious eatery entirely made of glass. No, wait, not glass...transparent plastic. Sinter recognize the material of the floors, ceiling, walls and room-dividers as Ferro-glass, a high-strength poly-carbide used in space missions. It's highly valued for it's nigh-infinite ability to be unaffected by heat, but it's been, as far as he can tell, limited to government use due to it's lengthy and grossly expensive manufacturing process.
Besides transparency, the restaurant prominently uses fire as a decoration. Between each private eating room is a transparent wall with a wall of fire cheerily burning. The human waitstaff are all dressed in some fire-based costume. Making their way inward, they are passed by a young girl carrying a large trying of delicacies, her costume made entirely of red neon climbing up from her shapely legs to her young, perfect face.
Shown to an immaculately set table, the robot pulls out the chair for Kara. "I'll let your server know you are here. The improved menus are kinetically activated, and the special is Russian caviar flambe. Enjoy." The robot leaves.
Kara waves a hand at a large flat-screen monitor set into a wall, backed by the ubiquitous flames. An easy-to-read display lights up, and cycles through several pages in response to her waving arm. No prices are listed.
"What'll ya have?" she asks sweetly.
"Umm, this is real neat and all, but I don't eat. I suppose I could stuff something like food into my face, but it would just burn. I've not tasted anything since my 'incident' and I'm never hungry or thirsty. I sure never went anywhere this nice when I was normal. "
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Kara laughs as if you'd said something very witty. "Ha! A number six it is."
By coincidence, a smiling young man in server's dress appears. He's wearing a garish fire-fighter's hat and red latex shorts. Other than a sensible pair of shoes, no other clothing interferes with full display of his chisled abs and artfully-cut musculature. "Hi I'm Bobby and I'll be your--Oh hi Kara! I...I didn't know you'd be in to--"
Imagine sweetly stares at the boy, who reacts and starts in surprise. His head swivels several times from Imagine to Sinter. "Oh! Huh? But then how, would, you..." His eyes get big as saucers and Kara giggles.
"Heeheehee. Sorry, I prmised I'd to mouth-talk tonight. Bobby! I'll take the special and my friend will have the number 6 inflammable."
Bobby, still with a confused grin on his face, bows and leaves.
"So, Sinter, for all this time, you've not had the luxury of -any- taste? And what about human contact? Have you known the exquisite pleasure of another person's touch?"
In far less time than it ought to take, Bobby returns. In front of Kara he puts a delicately laden tray. The centerpiece of fish eggs and sauce if set alight and Kara squeals with joy. A silver tray is lowered and the flames are put out, leaving only the delectible scent of cooked fish. It comes with a side of crackers. Each cracker is unique, as if it was carved by an artiste.
In front of Sinter is what looks like a tray full of over a dozen small containers. Most of the containers appear to hold some sort of colored salt, but a few look like they might have dirty eggs floating in motor oil.
"Are you able to manipulate matter? Ah, well, I supposed we can get around that."
Kara concentrates and a small bowl, no bigger than a bird's egg, colored a bright pink, hovers up near where Sinter's mouth might be. It floats in to his flame/body and, bowl and all, immediately burns up.
It's said that 80% of what we taste is smell.
The flavor of strawberries and cream infuses Sinter so hard it almost hurts.
Like smoke filling a burning house, or water flooding a fish tank, the flavor of the incinerated thing fills Sinter's every crevice and corner.
Next comes a marble doused in oil, and the flavor of fine white wine suffuses and cleanses the pallet. Four bowls are Angus steak, and three are potatoes, though to call them potatoes would be calling a cloud a puddle.
Every bite is alternated with an aperitif. Now sherry, now cognac, now brandy, well aged with hints of oak and history.
Last is a cherry jubilee so delicious it's a shame to see it burned away.
"You like?" she asks, eyebrows raised.
"That was amazing! I could barely remember food! Can you do a Ho-Ho? I always loved Ho-Hos. "
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Kara smiles, "Maybe next time."
Bobby returns promptly to clear away the dishes, including Kara's almost untouched caviar. The couple leaves without incident and the private helicopter delivers the two back to Sinter's door.
"Hmmmm. One last thing. While the night hardly deserves a pg-13 rating, I think there might be something that you'll enjoy more than that."
Kara takes one long, slender finger...and touches him.
She drags the digit down slowly from his shoulder to his elbow, the strange, simple pressure of palpable touch following the whole way down.
Kara's eyes close and mouth opens in a silent embrace of pain, but the L-field rainbows a cascade of ions and no actual harm is done.
Kara leaves with one last smile before boarding her helicopter home.
*********
"She's back," said the fit woman in the black miniskirt.
"Good. When Kara's refreshed from her date, have her come and see me," said the bald man. "I have a question for her."
before she departs "Thanks. Hope your finger is OK. I don't think I ever had a night like than, even when I was still human. "
as he wistfully returns to dangling in midair amid the magnetic fields. Refreshing the memory of taste again and again in his mind, he doesn't even turn on the TV.
As Sinter makes himself comfortable, neglecting his TV, he hears a voice from the shadows, all of the shadows.
"Most disappointing, Mr. Mertz. We had hoped that you were not in too deep with Ms. Luthor, but it appears that our worst fears are true. But fear not, Mr. Mertz. The Question sent me here to keep you safe. In a moment, you are going to hear a request for assistance. You are going to ignore that request, Mr. Mertz. You are going to remain here. You are going to enjoy your evening. You are not going to go anywhere."
Meanwhile:
As Kara's chopper is whisking her toward a nearby skyscraper, it suddenly stops in mid-air, shifting into auto-hover. Her pilot tests the controls, finding them unresponsive. Out in front of the chopper, an armored woman with a massive metal hammer hovers in front of it.
"Kara Luthor, it's time we had a talk."
"Keep me safe? I'm indestructible. Who the heck are you?" and he will flash bright light into the room to drive out any shadows (not to blind though).
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Kara enjoys a happy smile on the way back, languishing in a job well done. Sure tonight cost as much as a middle-class family house, but Sinter seemed to honestly have more fun than he'd had in a while. Well, shucks. Maybe there really was something to all this do-gooder nons--"MAYDAY MAYDAY!" the pilot's cry breaks Kara out of her reverie.
'Well shiii--' she thinks before the pilot barks out more data.
"Navigation out! Piloting out! Controls out! Auxiliary out! Helm is completely dead. We're captured, Ma'am." the pilot stammers. A commensurate professional, he was deeply embarrassed.
"No, -you're- captured. I'm..."
Time for talky is done.
'-I'm- Kara f!#%ing Luthor.
Radio ahead for the boys. I want them in the air and at my side five minutes ago.'
The pilot nods and tries every available form of communication he can think of. Using the running lights for morse code would take the longest and have the least chance of success, but it still has a place on this list.
'Well, sugar, I should'a listened to Attero. He was all "you shouldn't go anywhere without us," and "You might get in trouble out there!" Oh, there'll be no living with him after this.'
After getting a look at who had taken them over, Imagine adds to the pilot, 'And, uh, call up our new bestie buds at the JLA. APB. I may need some cavalry here.'
Imagine goes reflexively invisible and takes flight out side the chopper.
"Kara Luthor, it's time we had a talk."
'Why? You got an appointment for a b~&~& slapping?
That ain't how it works here, Ms... Oh, are you the new Thor now? I had heard he had gone "that way" but I didn't wanna believe it until I saw it. Hey, nothing wrong with that. You wanna swing how you wanna swing. The world weeps at all the lost "swingin' his big hammer" double entendres, but we'll deal.
What we DON'T deal with is sticking your big face where it ain't wanted. You got about six seconds to tell me something that involves a riDONKulously profitable business deal, or you'll face a very hard decision: Do you want me to make you think you're a six-year old girl the rest of your life, or do you want several large, well-paid men to see how many pieces they can shoot you in to?
I'll probably do the first one, just for kicks, but you never now. I'm flexible.'
"Keep me safe? I'm indestructible. Who the heck are you?" and he will flash bright light into the room to drive out any shadows (not to blind though).
Sinter flashes the room, as it were, but even his sometimes simple mind realizes that something is wrong. His light, which should be nearly blinding, is like the flickering of an old bulb in a dark shadowy barn.
"There is more to be destroyed than your physical form, Sinter. And Kara Luthor is a threat to both your soul and your life. Kara is wooing you, Sinter. She will offer you sensation, then with the promise of the restoration of your human form. A promise she and her father can probably deliver on. The only price will be everything that you are... I know a little something about that. You ask who I am, but perhaps you should ask what I am. I am the shadow to your light. My name was Todd, before, but since the accident, most people call me Obsidian."
The shadows flicker and momentarily gather into an almost humanoid shape before relaxing and filling the room again.
[QUOTE=
'Why? You got an appointment for a b*$%~ slapping?
What we DON'T deal with is sticking your big face where it ain't...
"I have to admit, I was hoping you'd make this difficult. I've been looking for a chance to bust a Luthor head since Lex killed Uncle John."
With that, she spins like an Olympic hammer thrower and releases the hammer.
The hammer flies by Imagine, missing by a laughable margin. At the same time though, the hammer projects a scintillating rainbow of EM radiation, sonics, and some other things Imagine can't even detect. You wouldn't be surprised if it was able to compile all of that sensor data and penetrate your invisibility.
"Look, I get that Lex Luthor is probably bad, but Kara hasn't done anything I've seen that was bad, and she has saved the world with us a couple times now. Anyway, I'm sure no genius, but I don't want to be a human again. I was a janitor. I didn't do much more good than push a mop. Now I'm important. I'm in the Justice League. That's the majors.
Anyway, I don't know why I should trust sneaky people like you or that Question guy. I'll trust her until I see a reason not to. I think tonight was just her trying to be nice. Not like it was any trouble for someone with her means.
I'll keep my eyes out, but I trust my teammates. They've been there for me.
So for now, please just go away before I start blasting holes in the walls of my condo trying to make you leave. "
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Kara mentally shrugs. The invis was just a first line anyway. She stands still, coolly letting the hammer pass by. She tosses a quick update check to the pilot.
'Pilot? Dude-man? Are you even getting through on the horn?'
Kara turns back to the flying woman. 'Are...are you a villain? Because I thought you, like, totally wanted to talk? Alright, well, here I am and -your- idea of "talking" involves a LOT more hammers than most folk I've run in to. And who the ballz is Uncle John? Do you know how many d00des would answer if I just yelled out "Uncle John?" And since when do you do-gooders subscribe that the sins of the father translate to kin. Hell you're more evil than -I- am!
Wait, so maybe you're not Thor. You're just a chiXXorZ with a complex. What, you saw the Hot Norse Blonde and wanted to swing his hammer on your own, but he didn't want to get into your gates of asgard, so now you just go around looking for other powerful men? Now you wanna find yourself naked and sweating under a man named Lex, huh? No, no, I get it. I'm not a kid. I'm an adult of the world. These things happen. You know if you want I could just take your number--'
Kara, spending a moment to be thankful that her speech goes out at the speed of thought, and turns her gaze toward the hammer.
'Wait. Maybe that hammer means more than I think. Is...is that your whole pony? Is that your double whammy?
Huh. Maybe it's time I finally found out...
Am I worthy?'
She sprouts a mischievous grin and concentrates on the hammer. Hard.
When the alert goes out after the Question's appearance, Shale arrives a bit after the others, having taken a shuttle due to his general dislike of the Transmission system. Listening to the briefing, he vanishes for a quick moment, in order to conduct a detailed search of the station. He suspects that the Question is either long gone, probably having used some sort of backdoor program in the Transmitter to move on and off the station as he pleased, if he was indeed ever physically present, and had not merely hacked the Watchtower's holography systems to appear via some sort of telepresence. Regardless, he conducts a top to bottom visual search of the station ad only he can. He is thorough; checking every nook and crazy, or anywhere a human sized individual could hide.
He returns to the conversation, the entire
length of his absence appearing as nothing more than a flicker of his appearance.
"Viktor; please run a full structural scan of the Watchtower, report any signs of new construction. Compare those scans to the full station schematic in the main computer and report any and all deviations and inconsistencies. Secondarily, please establish a link to the Bat-Computer in the Bat-Cave and compare the schematics for the station that we have on file with the original blueprints contained therein. Again, please report any and all deviations."
Turning back to the group, who are no doubt looking at him in an odd manner by now. "The Question, each incarnation of the individuals who have taken that name, are undoubtedly investigative geniuses, and should not be underestimated. Metahumans have a tendency to assume superhuman methods have been used when simple, clever ones will suffice. Things like a false wall installed somewhere on the station to hide a minimalist living area where an obscure access tunnel existed before."
"A scan of the Watchtower reveals no alterations in construction. However, I cannot contact the Bat-Computer. Its security protocols do not respond to my inquiry. The only place on the station that I cannot 'see' are inside the singularity that powers the station, but it is highly unlikely that any hero known as The Question could secret him or her self in a singularity."
"Is that typical of the Batcomputer, or a new development? Regardless, it is most likely to assume he appeared by mundane means, if he genuinely appeared at all, as opposed to hacking into the holographic projection system and projecting his image from somewhere else. Ms. Luthor? Are you indeed plotting some evil machination from within our very ranks? If so, it will complicate matters, for I had hoped to consult you regarding another matter."
"Is that typical of the Batcomputer, or a new development?"
[b]"There is generally linked access between the Batcomputer and the Watchtower mainframes. That link does not provide universal access in either direction, but it is unusual for the Cave to reject all attempts at access."
"Well Ms. Luthor? Are you up to something the Question finds objectionable?"
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"I tooooold you," she taunts at Shale, already calling up the hours L'Inflamme is open, "I didn't have _time_ to do anything questionable OR objectionable yet! Exothermic here put out an APB before Mr. Genetically-gifted-in-the-pants had time or intention to try and put his Mjolner through my gates of asgard!"
"Ooooo. That's a good one. I'll have to remember that.'
"Why? Do you -want- me to do something questionable or objectiona--ahhhh. -You- want to do something questionable or objectionable. Aahhhhhh...
...
okay.
Um, DerGeistSpiel has an opening this monday. Around 5 work? Sweet. Wear something nice. And not so dorky.
Byeeeee!"
Since he did get a distress call he speaks up to his computer "Open Window. Close after I leave. " and he streaks out, keeping his speed moderate until he gets altitude to avoid any broken windows.
"I have no interest in courting you, Ms. Luthor. And since we know you to be keen of both wit and mind, I can only take these outward displays of folly as an attempt at obfuscation. A slatturn you may be, but you wear the fool only like a role upon a stage. Should you decline to address these accusations, I fear we will have no recourse but to take this bruit upon its own credulity."
"Friend Sinter, recollect you the specifics of the Question's concerns regarding our comrade's deportment?"
I had hoped to approach Ms. Luthor in regards to her powers of the mind. It is possible that a Mind as strong as hers might have been able to reach the Martian's minds, even within the depths of their slumber. I will have to ask the others if they know another with such powers.