The DCFutures FanFiction Group recognizes that Batman
and all related characters are property of DC Comics.
 These stories are written for no profit, but rather
a strong desire to peer into the future of the DCU.
The stories and concepts presented herein, however,
are property of the author.  So there.

****

BATMAN: DCF #32

****

Written and Directed by Erik Burnham
darvey@rocketmail.com

****

BATMAN created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger
BATMAN: DCF created by Erik Burnham

****

"Tuesday's Gone - Part Two"

****

"...And the fourth quarter gain for 2112 has exceeded
those for the past three years.  This-  Ms. Olsen?" 
Ennis Hobbs knew the subject was boring, but it was
company policy to have a hardcopy log for all
official statements.  Recordings couldn't always be
trusted.

But Donna Olsen had stopped typing on her DigiPad
about two minutes ago.  She'd gone off to a place of
her own making.

And now, Ennis would have to go over this all over
again!  Tomorrow.  Tomorrow.  Right now, maybe, it
would make a little bit more sense if he found out
what had sent his secretary on a tour of never-never
land.

"Donna.  Donna!"

"Yes sir!  Fourth quarter gain, and... um..." Donna
scrambled to type something, but found her hands
moving from the digipad to her face to cover the
redness that was now growing out of her own
embarrassment.  

"Donna..." Ennis' voice lowered to a fatherly tone. 
"What is it?  You've had you head in the clouds for...
oh.  Of course."

"What?"

"Where has MY head been?  I send you off with Tim and
expect you to come back and snap to these numbers..."

"Sir, with all due respect..."

"Donna, I've seen how you look at him, and I know you
care about him... you don't get anywhere in this world
by being blind to something that obvious."

Donna blushed an even deeper shade of red.  In fact,
the casual observer may have expected her head to
explode.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Donna.  Tim's like
that with women.  He likes to charm them, wine them,
dine them... flirt maliciously, whatever.  Between you
and me, I think he just does it for the attention...
but he's broken hearts that way, and I don't want him
breaking yours."

"Mr. Hobbs, I don't think that..."

"...Tim would do that to you?  Donna, I've heard that
before.  Don't get me wrong, I love him like a son
and I'm grateful for all he and his father have done
for me.  But I've known Tim his whole life.  He's
just not... well; he's not built like other people.  I
don't think he's capable of settling down..."

"I..."

"I just don't want to see you hurt, Donna.  You've
been my right hand for so long here I don't think I
could get along without you... and as much as I love
Tim, I'd rather spare you any difficult situations
with a... a pre-emptive strike, if you will."

Donna really couldn't believe what she was hearing. 
Ennis Hobbs, her immediate superior, a man she
thought she knew, was... was... what was he doing?  Was
he... jealous?

"Um... may I... May I excuse myself, sir?"

"Yes, of course.  And Donna, I apologize to you for
turning into the heavy...  I am just a coworker, after
all."  Ennis sighed.  "It is about time to call it
quits for today anyway.  Why don't we take a break
from the numbers tomorrow and just make it an easier
day for the both of us?"

"...Yes, sir?"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Donna."  Ennis Hobbs turned
his chair towards the window and watched the
blanketing snow sheath Gotham in its magic.

****

Shannon, Shannon, Shannon.

Damned little voice, Tim thought.  I was sure I'd
left you behind in Italy.

No such luck, Mr. Super Hero.  Why is it that you
haven't searched for her?  Perhaps utilized those
detective skills you're supposed to have?

I'm not a detective.

You ARE Batman.  You really should be learning these
things.  You've been, what, a year in this cape and
cowl and you've yet to do anything beyond...

"ARRRRRGH!" Tim grunted aloud, angry. He didn't want
to think of himself as crazy, naturally, but this
little voice was so clear in his mind... and it was all
a figment of his imagination.  A manifestation of his
guilt, or something.  Hopefully.

He had been busy, though.  During the course of the
last few months, Tim had sat down and learned how to
drive.  The Batmobile was now primarily running in
manual control, and Tim enjoyed that feeling.  He
felt less helpless that way.

"Computer," Tim spoke to the Batmobile's systems,
half expecting it to have developed an Alfred-like
personality by now.  "Attune to site of homing signal."

"ACKNOWLEDGED," the computer responded coldly.  "LOCK
GAINED.  OPTIONS: TRACE, MAP, ROUTE."

"Map."  A holographic display blinked into view
inches from Tim's masked face, clearly identifying
his position and it's proximity to the 'beeper' he
had given Kylie Roarke.  A beeper she had sworn to
use in an emergency.  A beeper that went off a half
an hour ago.

Tim hit the Batmobile's accelerator, heading to the
position on his screen.

****

Two and a half days.

Sheesh.

You'd figure that travelling on a magnetic train,
moving faster than most track-free hovercars, you
could make the trip from Kingston to Gotham in less
than two and a half days.

Still, whatever.  Home was home.  It even smelled
sweet, the fresh coating of snow cleansing the grimy
scent that generally perforated the train station.

It was better, at least, than the freezing rain they
were getting out west.  That was no way to spend the
holidays.  Not even with family.

...There was an old couple fighting fifteen feet away,
yelling about which ramp they parked their car in. 
There were the distant sounds of gunshots.  There was
an inescapable din enveloping the city.

Paul Chandler sucked it all up.  He really was home
at last.

****

Wooziness can be interesting.  The sensations that
arise from your mind and body being out-of-sync
momentarily while you regain consciousness cannot be
described, only experienced.  Kylie was experiencing
them now.  What a terrible dream she'd been having.

"Mike..."

"...Is no longer an issue, detective.  Welcome back to
the land of the living."

It wasn't a dream.  The wooziness left.  Kylie sat up
and saw Tuesday sitting half a dozen feet away,
lounging in a large plush chair, a grin firmly
planted on her lips.

Kylie's instincts took over.  She leapt.

PAIN!

"I wouldn't advise doing that again, detective."

"W-what..."

"It's a rather unique type of forcefield.  Quite
ingenius, if I do say so myself.  It disrupts your
nervous system when you come into contact with it. 
The setting was on 'one.'" Tuesday smiled and
produced a small control.  "I'm now raising it to
'eight.'  I don't imagine I have to tell you what
would happen if you touched the field now."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to know just how much of a waste your
efforts have been.  And then I want your life."

****

Success!

Dr. Tippitt had recreated that which he desired, that
which Angel Tuscotti had paid him so handsomely for.

It was beautiful.

"Can you hear me?" Tippitt asked his creation,
speaking into a microtransmitter, viewing his work,
his creature, through a two-inch thick double mirror.

The creature wore a collar and reacted to the sound
of Tippitt's voice, nodding slowly while its eyes
darted around the room it was held captive in,
searching for... something.

Something to attack.

****

The Batmobile sat in shield mode outside the location
of the homing beeper Tim had given Kylie, so that
obviously wasn't the cause of his feeling of unease.

No one was going to steal his car, no matter how hard
they tried.

So the apprehension must be because of what's inside.
 Tim didn't have a good feeling about that.  He
should have gotten here sooner.  Or maybe she should
have waited.  Something.

Becoming one with the shadows, Tim glided through the
warehouse.  Cops were lying all around... were they...?

"Enhance audio," Tim whispered.  The audio receptors
and night vision in his mask picked up the sound of
hearts beating, and also allowed Tim to see the
bodies moving, breathing.

But there wasn't any sign of Kylie.

"Welcome, Batman." A woman's voice, smooth as suede,
echoed through the recesses of the near-empty
warehouse.  "My name is Tuesday.  Go ahead, reply, I
can hear you."

"Where's Detective Roarke?" Tim asked in his darkest
tones, making sure to stand up straight.  Pour on the
act, pal.  Pour it on thick.  

"With me, I assure you.  Look up."

****

Tuesday watched the Batman from her lair, thanks to a
satellite re-directed video feed.  He looked to the
direction of the speaker she was communicating to him
from.  The speaker that rested next to a
holoprojector, which she now had use for.

****

A flash from the ceiling caught Tim unawares.  If the
lenses in his mask hadn't adjusted, he'd be facing
the migraine from hell right about now.

It was a holoprojection.  There was a woman - the
owner of the voice, presumably - and Kylie Roarke
behind her.

"As you can see, I am a woman of my word.  Here is
the detective, alive and well.  For the time being,
anyway."

Tim growled to himself, readjusting his audio
receptors to drown away the static that had suddenly
shown up and started bothering him, never once taking
his eyes away from the caged detective he saw
holographically reproduced before him.

"Now, as you can see, Batman, Detective Roarke is not
moving very much... that's due to the forcefield I have
wrapped around her.  One touch," Tuesday smiled. 
"And it's all over.  Painfully.  Her nervous system
will short out and... well, so much for her career."

Tim saw Kylie flinch.  She wanted to tackle Tuesday
right now, but couldn't.  So the forcefield thing was
true.

"Now, my dear vigilante," Tuesday smiled, holding up
a remote control.  "This controls the field
surrounding our friend."  Tuesday pushed a button on
the side.  "I have just put it on a timer.  The field
will constrict slowly inward, eventually coming into
contact with Ms. Roarke.  She has about forty-five
minutes until that happens.  And then... poof."

Tuesday blew Batman a kiss, and the holoprojection
ceased.

****

Clark Kent walked through the halls of Wayne Manor
past the unsettling form of Alfred's uninhabited
android body, which was sitting in the hall, wearing
a sombrero and holding a champagne glass, its
lifeless eyes staring at... nothing.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Clark."  Alfred's voice resounded from
the walls of Wayne Manor in the familiar manner that
Clark had all but forgotten.

"Why is your body sitting there?"

"In truth, Master Clark, after an extended period of
time in that body I grew... homesick? I suppose that's
the closest I can come to the feeling I experienced...
for my original housing.  This diorama was meant for
benefit of Master Tim, who has yet to return home.  I
plan on recording the expression on his face and will
forward it to the Gotham Gazette's society editor."

"I see.  Er... any messages while I was gone?"

"Accessing voicemail..."

"Message one: 'Mr. Drake, this is Alex Cook, of the
Up With Gotham Society.  We just wish to thank you
once again for your sizable donation to our cause
and extend to you our invitation to...'"

"Next," Clark interrupted.

"Message two: 'Timothy, where have you been?  This is..."

"Next," Clark interrupted again.

"Message three: 'Tim, this is Shannon.  I had I... I
lost it.  Please don't try to find me, okay?  I need
to be alone for a while.  Goodbye and... I love..." 

"Clark!"  Tim's voice cut through the prerecorded
message, his masked face popping onto the viewscreen
a few feet to Clark's left.  "I need you NOW!"

"Where?" Clark asked, noting the urgency.

"Warehouse district, 8013-"

****

"-2..." Tim stopped talking as soon as he noticed Clark
hovering before him.  "I think you've gotten faster."

"What's the emergency, Batman?" Clark asked, his
voice lacking the slightest trace of irony.

"Detective, deathtrap, I need some speed and
maneuverability.  You have more than the car does."

"Thank you."

"Let's go, uh... Mister... Super... hero guy."

Tim found himself a quarter mile above the city
before he knew it.

"Reach out and touch someone, Clark.  Use the x-ray
specs."

"Will do... what the...?"

"Problem?"

"Batman, are you aware of the x-ray's ability to
penetrate lead?"

"It can't.  So?"

"So apparently Gotham City has a lot of lead in its
buildings now."

"...Precaution against possible future of low-level
radioactivity in the area.  Dammit!"

"Any other idea where she could be?"

"None!" Tim spat.  "She didn't want me to find her;
she..."

"She what?"

Clark Kent had seen much in his life, both before and
after his cryogenic 'sentence.'  It was nothing like
what he was seeing now. The muscles in Tim's body
tightened slightly.  His breathing slowed.  And his
voice...

"North.  Past the river.  Hancock Nuclear Power
Plant.  Now."

Tim Drake had just transformed into a Batman that was
a bit more clearly defined in Clark's memory.  Creepy.

****

"You are aware, detective, that your pain will not
last long.  Its intensity will kill you before you
know it."

Kylie did not respond.

"Pain is important, though.  It's worthwhile to send
a message one is likely to remember in the next
world.  Your husband would agree."

"You leave Mike out of this."

"My dear detective; I want you to suffer.  Immensely.
 For every credit you've cost me, I want you to
experience anguish the likes of which can't be found
in recorded history.  But I'm impatient.  So, I'll
tell you straight: I killed your husband.  A packaged
cluster bomb.  But for what it's worth, I'm sure he
was thinking of you for the remainder of his life..."

"NO!" Kylie screamed.  She was crying now, tears of
grief for her husband mixed with tears of frustration
over her inability to exact revenge.

"That's what I'm looking for!" Tuesday smiled.

Cue breaking glass and the eyes of two women growing
wide as they stare at the silhouette of an
approaching Bat...

"However did you find me?" Tuesday asked genuinely
surprised.

"Your message.  There was a hum.  Radioactivity
played with your transmission.  And these forcefields
drain a lot of power."

"An actual deduction!  I'm impressed.  From what I've
heard, that isn't your strong point."

"I'll show you my strong point..." Tim breathed leaping
at Tuesday... and through Tuesday... rolling and
crouching on the ground behind her.

"Oh.  Silly me!  I forgot to attend.  Call it
overcaution.  Or maybe I just love playing with
holograms.  One may never know.  Brereton, if you
please."

Tim saw movement out of the corner of his eye and
just managed to raise his cape in time to catch a
dart meant for his neck.

"I don't like shots, pal..." Tim grumbled, tossing a
batarang by default at the large black man.  No good.
 He caught it.  And squeezed it.  And broke it.

Oh my goodness.

"You've less than five minutes, Batman!" Tuesday
sang.  "And then its curtains for the detective, to
steal the phrase!"

"It's only been seventeen minutes!"

"And I said forty-five?  Well.  Honesty isn't my
strong point.  Ta."  Tuesday's hologram, and her
annoying presence were now gone.

Tim was left with Brereton.  And Clark...

"Can I get some help in here, please?"

A black blur appeared.

"Wasn't sure you needed me."

"Save her, will you?" Tim yelled, ducking another
dart.  "You've gotta be murder in a bar, pal... but in
Gotham-" Tim said, leaping into the air, above
Brereton, "we play for keeps!"

Tim somersaulted over the giant, pulling off a
handspring on the black man's shoulders.  Once behind
him, Tim grabbed the nearest dart from Brereton's
belt and stuck it into the large man.  Its effects
were instantaneous.  Brereton was out cold, and Tim
had him cuffed.

"EEEYAAAAAAAAGH!" Clark screamed, catching Tim's
attention, and once again proving himself a Man of
Steel, short circuiting the forcefield that drew
nearer to Kylie - by stepping into it.

"You didn't have to do that you know," Tim said,
approaching the weakened hero.  "The power supply is
right over there."

Batman walked over and patted it.  "But your way was
more dramatic, to be sure.  Detective, are you okay?"

"No, Batman.  No I'm not."

"Fair enough," Tim agreed in softer tones, signaling
for the Batmobile to retrieve him and his two weary
friends.

****

EPILOGUE

****

All he could do was lie still in his cell.  He heard
them coming, oh yes.  And he was ready for them.  He
could feel it.  Whatever had dampened his power
before was gone now.  His strength was returning.  He
was lucid again, instead of the dull-witted oaf he
was made to be by the dampening fields... and he was
angry.

Voices eventually became clear.

"...was a snap!"

"Well, the League's not what it was."

"Still, I didn't think security would be that easy to
top!  Just drop the power and shoot two guards?  Come
on!"

"Will you shut the hell up?"

They were outside his door now.  He could hear them. 
And he knew what they were here for.  Fools.  They'd
violated every code of battle he'd ever taught. 

Fine.

Their death warrants had been signed, and Bradley
Carrington would gladly deliver them.

****

END

****

NEXT ISSUE: New Year's Eve, Liam Concord, and... well,
we'll save that!  Let's just say a villain from
waaaaay back when!

****

GOING BATTY

**** 

Letters! Here we go! (Keep 'em coming!)


Date:Fri, 16 Apr 1999 18:24:27 -0700 (PDT)
From:Jason Tippitt scarcrest@yahoo.com
Subject:Re: Batman #31
To:darvey@rocketmail.com


Erik,

Just got to read the latest issue. That mad
scientist... where've I seen that name before? ;)

One of your best issues to date. Donna Olsen gets
some screen time, good character development with
Alfred (one of the most human characters of all) and
Clark, and the cliffhanger ending... ooh, you devious
bastard.

Keep up the good work, man.

-- Jason

****I appreciate the words, Tipp.  Letters are
getting harder to come by nowadays.  I guess people
just know what to expect.  Huh.  I'll have to change
that.  Maybe your namesake's little experiment will
turn some heads.  Maybe the expanded screentime for
such neglectees as Ennis and Donna will help.  Maybe
I oughta rethink them monkeys.****


From:MSR77@aol.com
Date:Fri, 9 Apr 1999 16:32:38 EDT
Subject:Re: [dcfutures] BATMAN: DCF #31

Erik,

This was an excellent issue of Batman DCF!  I liked
the way you left the 
cliffhanger at the end, it makes me worry about Kylie
Roarke.  I wonder if 
she'll survive the new villain known as Tuesday.  It
was also interesting to 
see whatever it was going on in fact with Angel
Tuscotti, seems like he's 
being re-created or something, can't wait to see how
that turns out.  Keep up 
the good work!

Mike

****Mike, good to hear from you again!  You can bet
I'll keep going on Bats... I just got another wind! 
Glad the cliffhanger was so well liked... (I had to
think of SOME WAY to keep readers coming back!)  As
to Angel, no, he's dead.  Clayface is usurping his
position, however... so don't be fooled.****

That's all for now... HOWZABOUT I HEAR FROM SOME MORE
OF YOU GUYS NEXT TIME?  Heh.

VISIT GOTHAM:
http://www.geocities.com/area51/chamber/9727/gotham.html
VISIT THE DCF DISCUSSION BOARD:
http://disc.server.com/discussion.cgi?id=6074