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Infinity, Inc.
A Question of Trust

by HarveyKent



 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 1



"Die, you big lummox!" rang the voice of the Ray through Infinity Inc's Stellar Studios headquarters.

"Take that, you Reddy Kilowatt wannabe!" Nuklon shouted back in rage.

Fury heard the two friends screaming at one another, and ran to investigate. The shouts came from the communications room.

"Ha! Get up from that, loser!" Nuklon cried out in triumph. Fury dashed into the room; the look of concern on her face turned to one of exasperation as she saw what had happened.

"Are you two at it again?" she asked. Nuklon and Ray had once again monopolized Infinity Inc.'s computer system to play their favorite video game, Phog. And, once again, Nuklon had soundly thrashed Ray.

"Why do you keep playing him, Ray?" Fury asked. "Do you enjoy losing?"

"Not particularly," Ray said, taking the computer disc from its slot. "But then, I don't have much to compare it to." Fury watched Ray put the disc, with the colorful stylized "M" symbol of Medulla Software, back into the disc case.

"You boys and your toys," Fury sniffed. "You should try a more intellectual pursuit, the next time you have free time."

"What, like You Don't Know Diddley?" Nuklon asked.

"Don't knock it," Fury said. "It finally came in handy knowing the name of the son of Agamemnon."

"Weren't all those guys your relatives, or something?" Ray asked.

"Hey gang," Red Arrow said, sticking his head into the communications room. "Turn on CNN. There's something pretty interesting going on."

Nuklon clicked on the television monitor. The large screen sprang into vivid color as the voice of the news anchor filled the room.

"--going live to Washington, D.C., where Senator Dennis Barclay is about to give a press conference outlining his proposed Vigilante Registration Act."

"What?" Ray gasped. "Vigilante registration? Does that mean what I think it means?"

"I'm afraid so," Red Arrow said grimly.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 2



Senator Barclay, a distinguished-looking man of about fifty with iron-gray hair and a close-cropped beard, stood before a lectern bristling with microphones like the antennae of some antediluvian sea beast. He addressed the crowd of journalists in an even, unemotional tone.

"For decades our nation has been the home of masked vigilantes who take the law into their own hands. 'Super-heroes', many call them. And yet, what do we really know about them? How do we know their motives are what they say they are? May they not have some agenda we know nothing about? My proposed act calls for the registration of all so-called 'super-heroes' operating within the United States and its possessions. I merely ask that they provide an appointed governmental regulatory agency with their true identities and background information. Such information would never be made public, nor could it be used against them. If they really do have only our best interests at heart, as they say they do, they can not in good faith refuse."

"Is he kidding?" Fury asked. "He expects the JSA to unmask for a bunch of bureaucrats? An FDA for super-heroes? He's nuts!"

"Well, on the face of it, it does make sense," Nuklon said reasonably. "After all, he has a point. We've grown up with super-heroes as our parents and guardians, but most people really don't know what to expect of people like us."

Fury gaped at her friend as though he had grown another head. "Al, do you hear yourself? You're talking nonsense!"

"It's not 'nonsense' just because I don't agree with you," Nuklon snapped. Fury stared at him as though she had been slapped; then she stormed out of the room.

"Hell hath nothing like Fury," Nuklon snorted.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 3



All throughout Infinity, Inc. headquarters, the argument raged. The second-generation super-team seemed evenly split on the idea.

"Sometimes it's painfully obvious that you skipped over the1950s," Surge said to Red Arrow. "This whole idea of government regulation of super-heroes smacks of McCarthyism! Hell, it's what caused the JSA to disband in '51!"

"Don't preach to me about individual freedoms," Red Arrow snapped. "I was fighting Nazi saboteurs before you were even a twinkle in your father's hourglass! Anyway, all he's proposing is a measure to safeguard against--"

"Against what?" Surge demanded. "Villains masquerading as heroes, to gain the public trust before striking? If that isn't the dumbest bit of fantasy I ever heard--"

"After what happened a couple years ago, with the JSA and the whole Stream of Ruthlessness fiasco, you can't blame people for wanting some security!"

And so the arguments went on. Stalwart friends, each of whom would gladly lay down their life for the other, nearly came to blows over the proposed federal registration of masked vigilantes.

The American people seemed not so evenly split. A CNN poll showed sixty-two per cent in favor of the registration act.

"I can't believe those numbers," Jade said in disbelief. "Sixty-two per cent?"

"Well, there is a four per cent margin for error," Nuklon offered.

"Even so," Midnight said, "it does seem to betray an underlying current of mistrust for us. It makes you wonder what people have really felt all along."

"Hey, quiet!" Aquaman snapped. "Look at that!"

"We have just been handed a special report," the anchorman said, expressionlessly. "We switch you now live to Vic Vale in Gotham City."

The scene changed to a handsome young man with red hair, holding a microphone and looking directly into the camera.

"Tragedy has struck here in Gotham City. For decades, since the dark days before World War Two, Gotham has been the scene of countless battles between masked participants. Today, one of those battles has ended in death."
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 4



"Oh, no!" Red Arrow gasped. "Red Robin is all right, isn't he? H-he's gotta be!" The unnaturally young Roy Harper was fretful. He and Red Robin, both former kid sidekicks of adult heroes, had been close in the All-Star Squadron. With so many of his former comrades dead, including his mentor Green Arrow, Roy feared to lose another one.

"Gotham's heroes, including the legendary Batman, have always strived to uphold the law without unnecessary force. Today, however, a criminal has died, and a city wonders if it was necessary."

The camera angle widened to show paramedics loading a body on a stretcher into an ambulance. The body was completely covered by a sheet, even the face.

"The man on that stretcher was Jonathan Crane, better known to the public as the Scarecrow," Vale explained. "For decades he battled Batman and Robin as the self-styled 'master of fear'. Today, Red Robin brought his career to a conclusive end."

"What?" Nuklon demanded. "He's making out like Dick killed him! He never--"

"Sssh!" Jade hissed.

"Red Robin engaged the Scarecrow in combat atop this tall building, the Bilfinger Gallery of Fine Art," Vale continued. "The Scarecrow was standing near the edge of the building, unarmed, for Red Robin had snared his trademark pitchfork in a bat-rope and relieved him of it. The masked vigilante then hurled a batarang at the Scarecrow, which knocked him off the roof six stories to the street below."

"Impossible!" Surge snapped.

"Red Robin's statement to Lt. James Hainer of Gotham City Police was that the Scarecrow drew a gun on him, and this is what he was trying to knock aside with his batarang. However, no such weapon was found on Scarecrow's body, on the roof, or anywhere nearby. Hainer has promised a full investigation of this incident. We--"

Ray reached out and snapped off the monitor. A stunned silence filled the room.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 5



It was twelve hours after the stunned announcement of the Scarecrow's death. The members of Infinity, Inc. had not gone to bed. They sat around the communications room of their headquarters, waiting for word. Most of them had contacted their parents and mentors in the JSA, offering their support. Several had tried to speak to Red Robin, but found him unavailable. Soon, the television news confirmed why.

"The costumed crimefighter known as Red Robin surrendered himself to police custody at Gotham City Police Headquarters," CNN news anchor Tawny Young said emotionlessly into the camera. "While unconfirmed, our sources tell us that Red Robin did so on direct request from Police Commissioner Clancy O'Hara, with whom he has been in constant communication since the incident. Red Robin has not been formally charged with any crime or negligence leading to Crane's death, but has surrendered himself into protective custody following outbreaks of rioting in Gotham City." The television scene changed to a mob gathered in front of Gotham City Police Headquarters. They were shouting angrily, waving their fists. Some carried homemade signs, bearing slogans like "TAKE OFF THE MASKS" and "VIGILANTES GO HOME".

"This incident comes on the heels of Senator Barclay's call for a repeal of the laws allowing masked vigilantes, or 'super-heroes', to operate legally without revealing their identities. Many feel that Jonathan Crane's death came as a direct result of super-heroes operating without government restriction or guidance. Gotham City District Attorney Harold--"

The communications room was filled with the sound of shattering glass.

"Geez, Roy, do you think television sets grow on trees?" Patriot demanded.

"Take it out of my allowance," Red Arrow grumbled.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 6



"Take it easy, Syl," Jade said. "We're all upset about what's happening to Dick."

"Yeah, that's right," Surge said. "But tell me, Roy: do you still agree with Senator Barclay's proposition? Now that you see its result?"

"No. Yes. I -- I don't know!" Red Arrow snarled, swatting the air with his hand. "I'm just so confused! It's weird. I mean, deep down, I know there's a reason we guard our identities, and all that. And yet, something Barclay says makes a lot of sense to me! I just don't understand it!"

"Well, a lot of people can be taken in by a slick public speaker," Aquaman said. Fury nodded, and started whistling Der Fuhrer's Face, until a sharp look from Patriot cut her off.

"Okay, I've got the alternate communications monitor screen plugged in to CNN," Nuklon said. True to his words, the screen flickered to life, and Tawny Young's expressionless face. The story about Red Robin and Senator Barclay, however, seemed to be over, at least for now.

"Coming up next, ReNee Keith, the 26-year-old wunderkind behind Medulla Software," Tawny announced. The screen changed to an image of a beautiful young woman with long red hair. "Via satellite, we'll be speaking with Ms. Keith from her home in Seattle. We'll hear first-hand how this rising young entrepreneur created her software kingdom from the ground up."

"Ah, nuts," Red Arrow said. "I'm tired of hearing about this anyway. I'm going to get something to eat." The unnaturally-young archer stalked out of the room. Jesse Quick hesitated momentarily, then followed him.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 7



Jesse Quick entered the headquarters kitchen as Red Arrow was making himself a sandwich. She came up behind him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't make more of it than it is," she said softly. "We're all under a lot of pressure."

"I know," Red Arrow acknowledged. "I've never seen the team so -- so divided, so split on what should be a basic issue! I swear, Rick and I almost came to blows back there!"

"I know," Jesse said. "I think everybody's confused right now. When I spoke to Uncle Jay in Civic City on the phone, even he sounded troubled, uncertain. And he's usually the anchor of normalcy in times like this."

"You don't think they'll actually charge Dick with negligent homicide, do you?" Red Arrow asked, "I mean, after all he and Commissioner O'Hara have been through together?"

Jesse shrugged. "I guess it's really up to D.A. Sims. But someone in the JSA has his ear, I understand."

Jesse had a sandwich with Roy, but they ate quietly, without much conversation. When they had finished, Roy left to go to the gym, to work off some nervous energy. Jesse returned to the communications room. The only members still there were Nuklon and Ray. They, too, were working off nervous energy in their own way, playing Phog. But their hearts weren't in it; there was none of their usual boisterous threats and shouting.

Suddenly, Jesse's eyes caught something on the screen. "What the hell is that?" she shrieked.

"What?" Nuklon asked, startled. "What, you've seen this game before. I know, it gets a little bloody--"

"Didn't you see that?" Jesse demanded. "Either of you?"

"See what?" Ray asked, confused.

Jesse shook her head. "Al, can you freeze the frame on this game?"

"Sure," Nuklon said, hitting the PAUSE button. The action of the fast-paced computer game froze to a halt.

"Now, can you back it up, one frame at a time?"

Al shrugged. "I think so. Let me see -- is this what you want?"

Jesse watched as the action of the game played itself backwards, slowly, one frame at a time. It was like watching the hands of a clock move.

"Here, let me," she said, leaning in to the controls. Al caught the scent of her strawberry shampoo as she bent across his chair to quickly reverse the game action.

"There!" Jesse exclaimed triumphantly, stepping back from the console. "Take a look at that!"

The game was frozen in place, the figures halted in poses of action. In deep red letters a third as tall as the screen itself, the phrase "DON'T TRUST SUPER-HEROES" was plainly visible. Nuklon and Ray gaped at it for a moment. Nuklon advanced the game one frame forward; the message vanished. He tried one frame backward from where the message was; it was gone again. But it was there as plain as day, on that one frame that his eyes would see for a millisecond.

"I... think the others should see this," Nuklon said after a moment.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 8



"I don't believe it!" Surge declared, incredulously. "Subliminal messages, imbedded in a video game? If I saw that on Remington Steele, I'd never buy it!"

"Well, that's what's happened, all right," Patriot said grimly, leaning over the console as Nuklon and Jesse Quick scanned the video game. "We found a hundred of those messages planted in this game! The action moves so fast, the messages would barely have time to register on the eye; but the subconscious mind would pick them up!"

"I noticed a few phrases that I've seen repeated identically on signs carried by anti-hero protestors," Jade announced. "This is definitely the source of the current anti-hero movement!"

"You're telling me all those protestors play Phog?" Aquaman said. "That doesn't make sense!"

"Medulla Software makes all the great games, not just Phog," Ray said. "They make You Don't Know Diddley, Grave Robber, Radar the Porcupine, Alley Brawler... all of them!"

"More than that," Fury said, flipping through a Medulla catalog. "This came with the software. They also make a full line of educational software, for children ages three and up. And a complete line of business applications; accounting, word processing, spread sheets..."

"My God!" Midnight gasped. "It's insidious! Someone is actually altering the public's perception by attacking their subconscious mind through computer images!"

"It's ingenious, all right," Jesse Quick said. "The question I have is, who's behind it?"

"My money is on the head of Medulla, what's her name, Keegan?" Nuklon said. "If the subliminal messages are in all of their products -- and they'd have to be, to get these kind of results -- it couldn't have been done without her knowledge. Unless she's just a figurehead president, like that Stan Lee guy."

"And what about Senator Barclay?" Aquaman asked. "Is he a partner to the scheme? A hired employee? Or did he just get brainwashed by the images like everyone else?"

"I think a visit to Ms. ReNee Keith is in order," Patriot said, walking over to Nuklon. "Al, could you access our microfiche files of the L.A. Times? There was an article about her last month, I think, and I believe it said where she lives."

Nuklon flipped through the files until he found the appropriate story. It was on the front page of the Sunday Business section, and featured a photograph of the stunning redhead. Her name was underneath her picture.

"You guys -- look at that!" Jade said, pointing. "Look at how she spells her name, with the capital 'N' in the middle!"

"So what?" Surge asked. "That's just fancy-shmansy spelling, like Cyndi Lauper."

"No, no! Don't you get it?" Jade asked. "Take only the two capitals in her first name, and her entire last name. R N KEITH. That's an anagram for THINKER!"

And all was silent in Infinity, Inc. headquarters.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 9



"Okay, Syl," Surge said. "You're the leader. So lead. What do we do now?"

"I still say we need to talk to the Keith woman," Patriot said.

"Talk to her?" Jade said, incredulously. "I say we go in there and bust her! What more proof do you need?"

"We still don't know for certain she's involved," Patriot said. "Her company is, obviously, but we don't know for sure that she knows what's going on."

"But her name!" Jade insisted. "She's toying with us, daring us to figure it out! She's got to be the Thinker's daughter, or his protege, or -- or something!"

"And if her name were Briana Weaver, would you think she's the Brain Wave's daughter?" Patriot asked. Jade opened her mouth to reply, but Patriot held her off with a raised hand. "Jen, I admit the circumstantial evidence is overwhelming. But that's all it is right now, circumstantial. We'll send a team of four to interview her. If she is the mastermind, maybe she'll tip her hand."

"I should be on that team," Jesse Quick jumped in.

"I agree, Syl," Red Arrow said. "It was her super-fast vision that caught the subliminal trick. If Keith is the mastermind, she may have more such traps at her home. It'd be good to have advance warning of them."

"Good point," Patriot said. "All right, Jesse. Roy, how about you go too? And Ray, and Al. That's a good quorum."

"Check," Nuklon said, eagerly.

"What about the rest of us?" Aquaman asked. "What do we do?"

Patriot turned to the prince of the seas. "We tell the world what's going on," Patriot said. "The JSA, Commissioner O'Hara, D.A. Sims, CNN, even the President and the Attorney General. We blow the whistle on this subliminal message scheme. That's what we do."

Aquaman smiled slightly, and nodded. "Good plan."

"Come on, gang, I'm driving," Nuklon said, heading out the door to the hangar where the Star-Rocket Racer was kept. "Next stop, Seattle."
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 10



The Star-Rocket Racer soared over the skies of the West Coast of the United States. Nuklon expertly piloted the vehicle toward Seattle, and the home of ReNee Keith.

"Al?" Jade's voice chimed in, as her face appeared on the comm-screen on the instrument panel. "I've done some computer background checking, and I have some news for you."

"Fire when ready, Jennie," Nuklon said.

"Well, I may have been wrong about Ms. Keith," Jade reluctantly admitted. "About her being the Thinker's daughter, anyway. I found birth records, school records, tax records, everything. I still think she's behind this, but she appears to have grown up independently of the Thinker."

"What about the Thinker himself?" Ray, who was copiloting, asked. "Did you check on him?"

"I did," Jade said. "Nobody seems to know just where he is now. Even his parole officer hasn't heard from him in about three years. And get this: he did have a daughter, Karla DeVoe, born about the same time as Ms. Keith. She dropped out of sight about the same time; nothing on her since then, either."

"Born about the same time, eh?" Nuklon asked, provocatively.

"Al, there were millions of baby girls born twenty-six years ago," Jesse Quick said. "I mean, geez, I'm twenty-six!"

"Point taken," Nuklon said. "Whoops. Attention, passengers, we're making our final descent. Please fasten your seatbelts and return the stewardess to the upright position."

"I have got to take that copy of Truly Tasteless Jokes III away from him," Red Arrow muttered.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 11



Nuklon expertly landed the Star-Rocket Racer on the grounds of the large house. It was built in the Victorian style, and stood alone on a large hill. The grounds were immaculately kept; the lawn looked as trim and regular as a carpet. Ornate statuary lined the cobblestone walk to the house.

"So this is a super-villain headquarters, nowadays," Red Arrow commented.

"I imagine a hollowed-out mountain in the shape of a skull is hard to find, in this district," Jesse Quick replied.

"We don't know for sure that ReNee Keith is a super-villain, yet," Nuklon advised. "Come on; let's see if she'll grant an interview."

"I understand she doesn't see anyone," Ray said. "Conducts all business and interviews by teleconference."

"Well, maybe she'll see us," Red Arrow said, hopefully.

The quartet of young heroes approached the front door. Nuklon reached out and touched the bell.

The floor of the front landing instantly fell away under them, plunging the four heroes into a dark shaft.

"Nice to know some things never go out of style," Red Arrow joked as they fell.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 12



The pit the Infinitors fell into was not deep, but it was pitch dark. Some strange magnetic force held them fast to the floors and walls; they could not move beyond the merest twitches.

Suddenly, a video screen on one wall flared into brilliant life. The Infinitors saw a full figure view of ReNee Keith on the screen, standing smugly with her arms folded across her chest. She wore a conservative navy blue business suit that fitted her curvaceous form snugly; her long red hair flowed down her shoulders.

"I knew someone would figure me out sooner or later," she smirked. "I assumed it would be the JSA, not their youth auxiliary. But one can't expect everything."

"We only came to talk, Ms. Keith," Jesse Quick said. "But I guess you've answered our questions."

"I suppose I have," Keith said. "Now, let me indulge you. I know you long-underwear types aren't comfortable unless you're fighting someone with a Halloween costume and a silly name. As for the name, I guess you can call me Medulla. And the costume..." As the young heroes watched, the image on the screen morphed smoothly, and Medulla was wearing a form-fitting black costume, with yellow trim and a stylized M over the chest. "Video images are so easily manipulated," she commented. "Reality is a bit harder to manipulate. But I've proven it can be done."
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 13



"Jesse?" Red Arrow whispered. "Is it okay to look at that monitor?"

"I haven't seen any subliminal messages yet," Jesse Quick returned.

"And you won't, for awhile anyway," Medulla promised. "I guess I've seen too many James Bond films; I feel like bragging about my success before I finish you off. Probably my father's influence."

"Your father?" Nuklon asked. "You mean -- you are Karla DeVoe?"

"Of course," Medulla said, genuinely surprised. "I thought you'd figured that out."

"But -- but Jade found evidence that Karla DeVoe and ReNee Keith are two separate people!" Ray declared.

Medulla giggled shrilly. "And you don't think someone who could mastermind the downfall of the JSA through subliminal computer images could falsify such records?"

The heroes were silent for a moment. Jesse Quick broke the silence.

"It seems, gentlemen, we're dealing with a true master of the computer age."

"Oh, indeed," Medulla agreed. "How do you think I got the money to start my company, not to mention build this house?"

Red Arrow shrugged as much as he could. "Secured the patent on a better trap-door?"

"Not quite," Medulla said. "Bank statements are issued by computer these days. If your monthly bank statement came up five dollars short, do you think you'd even notice? If you did, would you bother to complain about such a small amount? Most people wouldn't. And there are millions of bank statements issued every month."

"Computer piracy," Nuklon whispered.

"On the grandest scale imaginable," Medulla said. "I stole more money than the Injustice Society ever dreamed of, without leaving my home."

"Your father must be proud," Jesse Quick said.

Medulla's expression turned to one of disgust. "Ask him, when you get where I sent him."
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 14



"I don't understand," Ray said. "Where you sent him?"

"For the Ray, you're not very bright," Medulla snorted. "I mean I killed my father!"

"But why?" Nuklon asked.

"Why?" Medulla demanded, her voice thick with rage. "For robbing me of my childhood! His only reason for having a child was to train his successor, his instrument of revenge against the JSA! Other children got to play, to go to regular schools, to have friends! But not I! My entire life was study and drudgery! I was learning computer programming while other girls were playing with Easy-Bake ovens! I never had friends, birthday parties, a boyfriend, none of it! I finally repaid my father for my wasted youth by killing him and dancing on his grave!"

"If that's the case," Jesse Quick asked, "why go after the JSA? Isn't that just what your father wanted you to do?"

"Yes," Medulla admitted. "But I have as much of a grudge against the JSA as I do against my father. If it hadn't been for them, their stupid costumes and outdated Galahadian notions of righting wrongs, my father would never have brought me up the way he did! I suppose the Thinker gets what he wanted after all; and much good may it do him, in hell!"

"What about Senator Barclay?" Nuklon asked. "Is he in on it, too?"

Medulla giggled again. "Senator Barclay! He's an actor! I found him doing dinner theater in Wilmington, Delaware. You should see his Willy Lohman. Once I recruited him, I used my computers to give him a fake record as an attorney and professor of law at a tiny university nobody ever heard of. Then I ran him for Senator, and of course rigged the election results. He's my tool; once I'm done with him, I'll probably give him what my father got. We'll see how I feel, when the time comes."
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 15



"I have just one more question," Ray said. "What about the Scarecrow? How does he fit into your plans?"

"That idiot!" Medulla snorted. "Do you know, I went to five washed-up villains with my offer, and he was the only one dumb enough to bite? I told him I had a plan to take out the JSA members one by one. I gave him a special gun; I told him it fired a burst of compressed air that could knock any man off his feet. I suggested he lure Red Robin onto a rooftop and knock him off with it. Thankfully, he didn't have the know-how or the foresight to examine the gun. It fired a burst of compressed air, all right -- from the back of the gun! When Scarecrow used it, it knocked him off the roof, not Red Robin! And the gun was rigged to complete disintegrate sixty seconds after firing, leaving no trace! I effectively framed Red Robin for the Scarecrow's death! Timed perfectly with my subliminal messages, and Barclay's stirring up of anti-hero feelings, it makes the perfect beginning of the end of the JSA!"

Nuklon turned his head as much as the magnetic force allowed, to look at the Ray. "Heard enough?"

Ray nodded. "I think so."

Suddenly, the Ray's body blazed forth with brilliant light, and he lifted himself off the wall, into the air.

"What?" Medulla gasped. "Impossible! How?"

"I guess your childhood of intense study skipped over sixth-grade science," Nuklon said, as the Ray bathed him in a golden glow. "Heat decays a magnetic field." Nuklon flexed his mighty muscles, and was free. Ray and Nuklon then combined heat and strength to free Red Arrow and Jesse Quick.

"All right, that's one on me," Medulla admitted. "But you'll never leave this house alive!" And the image on the video screen blinked out to black.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 16



The tiny chamber went dark, but just for a moment. The Ray lit up the chamber.

"Well, now what?" Nuklon asked.

Jesse Quick sped around the small room, tapping the walls with her fingers. She came to a spot on the wall opposite the video monitor. "I think there's empty space beyond this one, possibly a chamber."

"Say no more," Red Arrow said, notching a blast arrow. Nuklon shielded the Ray and Jesse with his dense body, and the arrow blew a hole into the chamber beyond.

The four young heroes stepped out into a darkened hallway. Red Arrow shot a plain arrow down the hallway; a lattice of laser-beams shot out as it passed. One beam struck the arrow, vaporizing it.

"Primitive," Jesse Quick snorted. She took off down the hallway, and was at the other end before the lasers went off. She found a control switch on the wall, and turned off the lasers.

Her three friends joined her. The hallway branched off in two directions there. Nuklon and the Ray took one direction, Jesse and Red Arrow the other.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 17



"Looks like a turn up ahead," Red Arrow said, pointing.

"Yes; no way to go but left," Jesse Quick confirmed. The two young champions continued on their journey.

Just as they were coming to the bend in the hallway, Red Arrow heard Jesse gasp. The next thing he knew, he was around the bend and halfway down the connecting hall.

"What's up, Jess?" he asked. "Why'd you whisk us down so fast?"

In answer, Jesse pointed at the way they had come. A sprinkler head in the ceiling was dousing the bend in the hall with a corrosive liquid that caused the walls and floor to smoke and pit where it struck.

"My super-quick vision saw the first drops leaving the sprinkler head," Jesse explained. "I didn't know what it was, but I figured it wasn't Kool-Aid."

"Bend up ahead," Ray said, pointing. "No way to go but right."

"Let me scout ahead," Nuklon said. "Anything's going to happen, let it happen to me first."

"Whatever," Ray shrugged. He hovered in air as Nuklon pounded down the hallway.

As Nuklon reached the bend in the hall, Ray's keen ears heard a spring somewhere. He watched and saw something flash out of the wall at the bend, headed right for Nuklon. Quick as lightning, a bolt of heat-energy lanced from Ray's hand, striking the gleaming silver blade. Nuklon gasped as the molten metal struck the wall on either side of him.

"Nice save," Nuklon said.

"Guess all those video games improved my reaction time," Ray grinned.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 18



Red Arrow and Jesse Quick turned the corner, and soon came to a large steel door with a round knob.

"Probably locked," Jesse said, reaching for the knob, "but let's see."

"Wait!" Red Arrow snapped, grabbing Jesse's wrist. He lifted a blunt-headed arrow from his quiver; holding the arrow by the hard rubber head, he touched the end of the arrow to the knob. A sizzling crackle of electricity and a sharp tang of ozone filled the air.

"Nice trick," Red Arrow said. "Stand back, Jess, I'll blow the door." The youthful archer notched a blast arrow, drew, and fired. In a shattering explosion, the steel door caved in.

"Hope that's the last of these things, Jess. Jess? Where are you?"

"Right here," Jesse said, from behind Red Arrow. "Shall we go in?"
 
 

Nuklon and the Ray rounded the corner, and came to a large steel door with a round knob.

"Probably booby-trapped," Ray said. "But let's see if it can stand up to a melting!"

The Ray summoned up his heat-energy, and sent a golden bolt towards the shiny steel surface. Nuklon watched as the bolt struck the door, and rocketed back at the Ray.

"Look out!" Nuklon cried, leaping. He grabbed the Ray by the legs and yanked him out of the way just in time; the steel-melting bolt sizzled over his head.

"What happened?" Ray asked.

"I dunno," Nuklon said. "The door reflected your bolt somehow! Hey...when the JSA first fought the Injustice Society, Brain Wave used a glass box that reflected any force used against it, even Green Lantern's power ring! Maybe he shared the technology with the Thinker, and his daughter incorporated it into this door!"

"Nice touch," Ray said. "Well, let's see how the door frame holds up!"

It didn't hold up well at all. After a few seconds' bombardment, the solid door collapsed from the ruined frame, and the two youthful heroes entered.

It turned out both doors opened into the same room. But that was not the biggest surprise awaiting them within; not by a very long shot.
 
 

A QUESTION OF TRUST: Part 19



The four heroes entered the room simultaneously from the two entrances. The room was dimly lit; they saw a bank of computer consoles and video monitors along one wall. What caught their attention was the bed in the center of the room, and the figure lying in it.

"I told you, video images are easily manipulated," she said. The woman in the bed was emaciated, probably not over eighty pounds. Her skin was waxy and yellowed. A few wisps of thin hair clung to her skull. She looked up at the Infinitors with undisguised hate. They merely stared at Medulla in shock.

"Do you understand now why I hated my father, and the JSA, so much?" she asked, in a thin reedy voice. "I have AIDS. I'm dying. I'm twenty-six years old, and I'm dying; and I have nothing to look back on but a life of toil and drudgery. I have no happy memories to take with me, no friends to be with me in my last days." She paused, letting that sink in. The Infinitors did not move, did not speak. "But at least now," Medulla continued, "I'll have company on my journey!" Her thin arm moved beneath the sheet; the heroes could see the bones through the thin skin as it moved. When nothing happened, a perplexed look came over Medulla's face. She pulled her arm out from under the sheet, to reveal a control device similar to a nurse's call-button; she stabbed it repeatedly with her thumb. "What's wrong?" she demanded. "Nothing's happening!"

"That's my doing," Jesse Quick admitted, in low tones. "While Red Arrow was blasting the door, I searched the house at super-speed, for more booby-traps."

Medulla looked up at the young woman, venom in her eyes. "And you found the explosives under the house, and disconnected them." It was not a question. The hatred resolved itself into acceptance. "Oh well, the bad guy is thwarted on the final page. I should have seen it coming."

Silence for a moment; then Nuklon spoke. "You understand, we have to take you into custody now."

The woman called Medulla laughed shortly, a laugh that turned into a violent, hacking cough. When it was finished, she smirked at Nuklon. "Go ahead. What do I care? Look at me! A year would be a life sentence!" And she began laughing again.

The Infinitors looked at one another, then back at the dying woman on the bed. They did not speak, nor did they need to. They silently held the same thought. Winning doesn't always feel like it's supposed to.
 
 

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