Life: 9.5.5 Artemis Crock & Victor Fries

Chapter 9.5: Artemis Crock & Victor Fries

Artemis Crock
Mount Justice, RI, USA

We were in the main atrium of Mount Justice, ready to hear the sage wisdom of our mentors. Thankfully, we weren’t too big on formality. Batman didn’t seem to mind where we were in the room so long as we were listening so Superboy and I headed to opposite sides and leaned against the wall, him to brood, me to observe quietly.

At the center of the room, Batman, Aquaman, and “Uncle Ollie” stood over holographic screens with the bulk of my team. They were… They were okay. I obviously wasn’t exactly a trusted member at the moment, but I just had to give them time.

I ignored the small voice in my mind that whispered how they had every reason to mistrust me. With Cheshire in custody, it wouldn’t be long before the team knew my dad was Sportsmaster.

Maybe that was a good thing. I could start with a clean slate, no more secrets. They’d know the worst thing about me and we could start working to move past it.

And… And if they didn’t, if they decided they didn’t want a villain’s daughter on the team… Well, I hadn’t been here long enough to get attached anyway.

“And that’s what happened, my king,” Aqualad, Kaldur, said. He looked his mentor in the eyes and spoke evenly, but everyone could see that he was disappointed with himself. “I’ve failed you. I lost a piece of Atlantean magitech due to my carelessness.”

“Do not be overly harsh on yourself. The Fog was deactivated. The League of Shadows was denied vital intelligence and three capable agents. Dr. Roquette remains alive and well. Make no mistake, Kaldur’ahm. Your mission was a success,” Aquaman said firmly. “The loss of a water-bearer is regrettable, but by no means an irredeemable failing. I will have another brought to you in a few days.”

“Yes, my king. It’s just…”

“I remember. They were gifts from your friends when you came to the surface world.”

“They were. They remind me of Tula and Garth. Without one… I feel as if I am missing a cherished friend. I fear to face them again.”

“They will understand. Mistakes happen in battle, and even more so when the danger has seemingly passed. Complacency at such moments is a common mistake, one you will not repeat again with this bitter lesson.”

“It is a lesson I will take to heart,” our team leader said.

Really, the guy was way too solemn for his own good. Sometimes, I wondered if he remembered that we were heroes, not soldiers.

Still, I couldn’t say I disliked that about him. Better an overly serious team leader than a clown like the “Wall-Man.” From what I could see, Kaldur was the kind of leader who tried to meet people halfway while remaining stern. I could live with that.

Seeing that the two Atlanteans were done, Robin stepped forward and tapped something on his wrist-mounted computer. The holographic screens buzzed to show Rigal’s face. I wondered if that thing could play Tetris.

I was a little jealous of Robin. When he talked, people listened. He was the youngest of us, probably fifteen or sixteen, but he was also the resident ninja and had been at this hero thing longer than anyone our age. It also helped that he was the Batman’s protege.

“Something’s been bugging me about tonight though,” Robin said. “Tweety. He knew exactly when and where we’d hide Roquette.”

“There are many things to consider regarding him,” our leader said moodily. He held out the magic bookmark. “He may not be an enemy, but nor is he our ally. And we will be having words about my water-bearer.”

“You’re right, which is what makes his information so worrying. I don’t know how, but he also knew who exactly was in Project Cadmus. I think it’s fair to say that he joined us solely to recruit Max, the second clone of Superman.”

That got Superboy to perk up. He’d been in a weird mood ever since he found out that there was another clone. And when he saw a recording of our night, with Max flying, he looked ready to storm off. It bothered him, not having all of Superman’s powers.

I didn’t blame him. He was still the most physically powerful person on the team, but it probably sucked, constantly being compared to an unattainable idol. And now, he found out that there was a brother he could have had, someone who did have Superman’s powers.

“Yeah, what are we going to do about that?” Kid Flash asked. He’d run to the kitchen as soon as we arrived and now had a bag of high calorie chips he was munching away at. “I mean, do we need to arrest him? Recruit him? Give him a stern talking-to about picking better friends?”

“Nothing,” Batman said firmly. “Rigal Phenex and his peerage are not your concern.”

“They kind of are, Bats,” Robin said. “Counting Cadmus, this is twice Tweety’s shown up on one of our missions now. I know you don’t want us investigating things outside our wheelhouse, but that won’t matter if he keeps inserting himself into our missions. I say we investigate the Phoenix Roost. It’s not like he’s making his base a secret.”

“No. Entering the home of a devil is an unacceptable risk.”

“Are we seriously accepting that he’s a Lord of Hell or whatever?” Kid Flash said, only to visibly wither under Batman’s glare. I desperately wanted to know how he did that.

“Yes. Both Zatara and Doctor Fate have confirmed his use of demonic energy. Magic is real. There is more in this universe than science can explain. Deal with it.” Another image, this time of a three story building, was brought up. “This is the Phoenix Roost in question. You are not to approach it. In fact, the team as a whole is to avoid operations in Gotham if possible. The emergence of a new faction has made the situation there… delicate.”

“Wait, that doesn’t include me, right?” Robin asked. “I mean, I live there. I’m too young to get kicked out of the house.”

“You will continue your activities in Gotham, so long as they do not involve the team. I will direct you more closely. The last thing we need is a gang war, or someone deciding to make a deal with a literal devil for power.”

“I don’t think Rigal would just empower anyone at random. Even if he could, he doesn’t seem the type.”

Batman stared at the recording of Max. “No, he’s been quite selective thus far. But that’s no reason to get careless.”

“Got it. I guess I’m running solo, guys, at least until the next mission.”

A loud bang echoed across the atrium. Superboy, Connor, kicked off the wall and stalked forward. “So that’s it? A literal devil has my twin and we’re just going to watch and wait?”

“Yes,” Batman said simply. “Until we know more, it’s far too risky to approach.”

“That’s bullshit! You’re just abandoning him because one Superman clone is enough for you! Is that it?”

“Superman has nothing to do with this.”

“No, since when does he? He’s too much of a coward to so much as pay me a visit. Guess we know how he feels about the other one, too.”

“There is no reason to believe Max is being harmed or under mental sway. Devils are not innately evil and they can be negotiated with.”

Another image showed up on screen. Max stood in front of a fountain, passing out those bookmarks. I recognized the place. “That’s Gotham University. I did a tour there.”

“It is. Max has been passing out summoning contracts in Gotham. We are aware of several things he’s done thus far. He rescued a kitten from a tree for a little girl, stole research for a PhD student at the university, and killed Victor Zsasz. I also believe he interceded on behalf of a mother to provide her son with life-saving medicine, namely Rigal’s phoenix tears.”

“That seems like a random assortment of deeds,” Aqualad said. “Murder. Theft. And… saving lives and rescuing kittens….”

“It was not murder. Victor Zsasz was a serial killer with a body count in the dozens. He invaded the home of the same girl who’d befriended Max and she summoned him in a panic. Victor’s body was found in the bay soon after. I also have reason to believe Rigal saved her father’s life after he tried to confront Victor.”

“That’s… I don’t get it. What’s with Tweety?” Kid Flash asked. “He still shouldn’t have killed Victor.”

“All signs point to Rigal possessing a sense of morality, however different from the heroic ideal, and having passed that on to Max. This is also why we are not especially worried about Dr. Roquette’s well-being. He promised her safety, and so he will not harm her. Nor can she rebuild the Fog in such little time. For now, she is safe.”

“There’s also that familiar of his,” Robin added. He looked like he’d sucked on a lemon. “Rick Grayson… the robin…”

“Dude… Not cool,” Kid Flash nodded.

“Why is that such a problem? He was very cute,” Miss Martian spoke up. She had a fascination with animals. Apparently, Mars didn’t have such much in the way of biodiversity.

Robin looked at Batman, then back at us. He pulled off his mask. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. Hi, I’m Dick. Dick Grayson.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah… ‘Rick’ and ‘Dick’ are two ways to shorten the name ‘Richard.’ Rigal knew my secret identity, something that should be impossible since it’s only recorded in two places: the Watchtower and the Bat Computer.”

“Which is another reason we will not approach him carelessly,” Batman said firmly. “There is a very real possibility that he knows all of us, every member of the League.”

Silence filled the room. That was a worrying thought. There were people who would give up their kidney for that kind of information. Not all of them were villains either. Fans. Corporations. Politicians. I knew how dangerous it could be to put on a mask.

“Why tell us then? Why tip his hand like this?” I asked. This had to be the stupidest way to let us know. “It makes no sense. If Rigal really wanted to blackmail Robin, he would have approached him privately, not make a joke about it using an actual robin.”

“We don’t know. Myself and Zatara will continue investigating his motivations. Until we know for sure, stay away from the Phoenix Roost. If he approaches you, do not make an enemy of him.”

“We understand, Batman,” Aqualad siad. He handed over an ornate box and a bookmark. “This is what Rigal left behind, supposedly in payment for my water-bearer. It contains phoenix tears and a summoning circle.”

“Keep them. Whatever his motivations, he has dealt honestly when it comes to the tears. He also will not violate a contract.”

“Is it wise to summon a devil to fight with us?”

“If you are in a position where there is no option, yes. You can negotiate the price for his assistance later,” Aquaman said. “If necessary, I am willing to subsidize your payment with the treasury of Atlantis. You are too important to lose because of pride, Kaldur.”

“Yes, my king.”

“Hold on,” I said, gesturing to the bookmark. “That thing summons Rigal if you tear it?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve seen similar summoning circles in Atlantis, though the script is somewhat different.”

“Then why don’t we just summon him and then question him? Like, can we trap him in a tank of holy water or something?”

“Inadvisable,” Batman said. “This circle is highly detailed according to Doctor Fate. It has certain protections for both the summoner and the devil. Betrayal is likely to be costly and ineffective. If we are to capture him, it will not be through this circle.”

“Huh…”

“Devils are generally not unlike humans in their desire for structure. They are unlikely to break a contract, if not out of personal honor, than a twisted respect for the rules. You can expect Rigal to keep his promises, inasmuch as he chooses to interpret them.”

“Got it. Devils are all rules-lawyers and Rigal’s not any different. Would be nice if we had a magical specialist on the team.”

“You will. The wards around Zatara’s manor were tested with demonic magic while he was away. He believes his daughter will be safer on the team than studying alone.”

“Sweet, another girl! No offense, MM.”

“None taken? A new friend is always exciting,” the redhead said happily.

“So what’s going to happen to Cheshire?”

“She will be sent to Belle Reve,” Green Arrow said pointedly. Got it, not the time to throw more fuel on the fire by bringing up my family issues.

The meeting soon came to an end. In the end, the whole thing amounted to, “Leave Rigal alone. Oh, and you’re getting a new teammate.” Still, I couldn’t say I was disappointed with getting a phoenix tear for myself. I knew what I signed up for, but that didn’t mean I was eager to go belly up.

I still didn’t trust it fully. But if it worked, then could I give mine to mom? She’d suffered because of dad, and because of me. If anyone deserved a second chance at life, it was her.

That… That sounded like the right plan. I wouldn’t have a vial to act as a safety net, but that was fine. It wasn’t as if my outings had been any less risky before. I’d just have to be extra careful on missions from now on.

Out of all of us, Superboy was the least happy with things. He understood, I could see it in his eyes, but he really didn’t want to accept it. I wondered what he was feeling. Was he jealous of Max? Or worried for his twin? Did he even want to get to know his twin at all?

Whatever this was, it wasn’t over. We’d see Tweety again.

X

Victor Fries
Gotham, NJ, USA

Working for the literal devil turned out to be far more mundane than I’d expected. I was the head of security for a charge who most definitely did not need my protection. That fact alone made my life infinitely easier. Most of the time, “head of security” meant I was the one who kept track of camera footage, patrol details, and made sure the alarms were up to snuff. 

I had a second-in-command, Ivan Markell, who’d been the head of security for the Dealer. He made sure the men worked out, trained in close quarters, and put in their hours at our underground shooting range with both conventional firearms and the cryo-guns I made for them.

It was a nice life. I had a nine-to-five job, after which I spent much of my time with my beloved, Nora. When I wasn’t doing that, I did what I could with the lab I had and prepared for whenever the more fragile equipment would come in. There were two major crinkles in an otherwise perfect setup.

The first was Dr. Serling Roquette. She was an abrasive brat, someone who, despite being only a handful of years my junior, had seemingly yet to grow out of her teenage phase. She was argumentative and constantly compared our lab to the one she had at STAR Labs.

Of course the one at STAR Labs was better equipped. We’d only been at the Roost for a month! In exchange, we had a near limitless budget to customize our lab space in accordance with our needs and vision. But rather than see this as an opportunity, she regularly whined about all the tests and experiments she could no longer run. 

The worst part of this was that she voiced none of this to Rigal. She didn’t have the nerve to complain to his face, so Nora, who’d taken on the role of my assistant, was left to translate her whining into a wishlist.

She knew what she was talking about, at least on the academic front. I had to give her that much credit. Nanorobotics was not a field I was well-versed in, but nor could she claim an expertise in cryogenics. I was quickly finding out that this was for the best. Perhaps I would help her make new superconductors at some point, but for now, I was happy to have as little to do with her as possible.

Which left the second crinkle in an otherwise delightful work environment: Gotham. Arkham Asylum, that home of crazies I’d stayed in for a time, had seen yet another breakout. Most of them kept their heads down, but some of the main players in Gotham’s underworld had consolidated their power now and were looking for other opportunities.

Which was why I was out at Bruno’s bar and cigar lounge. If anyone asked, this was because I took my job as head of security seriously, no matter how perfunctory the title may be. It was important for me to keep tabs on the city’s affairs. My presence here had nothing to do with wanting a stiff drink away from my bratty colleague.

Bruno Yewman was of “proper English stock,” as he’d have everyone know. He was a tall, burly man who collected flannel shirts like women collected shoes. As I understood it, he was a former mobster who retired and opened a bar.

That said, men didn’t retire from the mob, not fully. Even now, he acted as an information broker and mediator. His bar was neutral ground, a place where different crime families could talk business without immediately trying to settle old grudges.

Of course, he had his loyalties. He never made it clear just which mob he belonged to in the past, but he seemed friendly with at least two or three of the factions I knew. He wouldn’t sell out his “dear friends,” but the “plebeian trash” were all fair game.

For him, that meant any organization whose members didn’t frequent his establishment. To be fair to him, he had a point when you looked past his casual racism against the Irish, Indian, Chinese, Mexican, and just about everyone else who wasn’t of “good, English stock.” Funny enough, I’d never heard him say anything about Italians. I suspected that was more because he did business with them though.

New gangs sprouted up like weeds in Gotham. It was only the older, more established families that knew to use places like Bruno’s as neutral havens. New blood that tried to muscle in tended not to play by the rules, or even know the rules for that matter. They were often so obsessed with short-term gains that they came and went like fireworks, momentarily drawing the Bat’s attention only to be snuffed out the next night.

“Bruno,” I greeted as I sat down at the counter. The place was classy without being ostentatious. It boasted a hunting lodge vibe with tastefully charred woods, leather seats, and stuffed animal heads. “How goes the business?”

“Oh? A new guest? Who introduced you, my friend?” the burly Brit asked. “You look familiar.”

“I’m Victor Fries.”

“No you’re… Huh, well, I’ll be. What the hell happened to you? You decided that fishbowl wasn’t in fashion anymore?”

“I found a cure, both for myself and Nora.”

“So you have.” He pulled down a bottle from the top shelf and poured two shots before sliding one over. “Here, my friend, that sounds like something to drink over. Lamberhurst, twenty-three years. Good, English brandy.”

I smiled as I took the drink. No one ever complained about Bruno’s drink choices. “A toast. To good health and new beginnings.”

“And better days ahead.”

We tipped our glasses back at the same time. The burn of brandy was a welcome one. Before, I’d never been able to indulge in creature comforts for long. For this alone, Rigal had my loyalty.

“What can you tell me about the city, Bruno?” I asked, setting the glass on the wooden coaster with a gentle clink.

“It’s gone to shit, that’s what,” he spat. “Those sheep-fucking potato farmers started calling their buddies from out in Boston.”

I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “That’s not how it’s done. Gotham business is Gotham business.”

“Yeah. Some of the old families are talking about teaching them a lesson.”

“Sounds like something I want no part in. Anything about Arkham’s newest band of idiots?”

Bruno barked out a laugh. “That’s why I told you. That info’s not worth squat to you, Victor. But if you want something more relevant…”

I slid over a wad of hundreds. “Go on.”

“Other than yourself, Poison Ivy, Manbat, Harley Quinn, Joker, Two Face, Riddler, and Zsasz are out, as are a host of worthless nobodies.”

“I knew that already.”

“Yeah. If your new boss is who I think he is, you probably already know that Zsasz is dead.”

“He is, and I do. What else?”

“Ivy is holed up in the botanical garden. She has the director of the place charmed and following her like a lost puppy. Two Face and that Riddler clown might have joined hands.”

I tossed him another stack. Bruno knew his game well. He never told me everything with just one. “The Joker and his squeeze. What about them?”

He snatched the stack of bills with a greedy smirk. “Eh, that’s the thing. No one’s seen them.”

“Give me my money back.”

“Nah, see, what I mean is, no one could see them.”

“They’re not in Gotham anymore. Why? Where?”

“No clue, and that’s not me squeezing you for more, Fries. I’m serious; I have no idea where they went beyond ‘south.’ Bane’s not around anymore either, but I think we both know Joker’s not with him.”

“Bane would rather die than work with the clown.”

“Yup. And the Joker’s got personal beef with the Bat, remember? He wouldn’t leave Gotham unless he thought it’d fuck with Bat’s head.”

“That sounds right. Thanks, Bruno.”

“I’m worth the money, Fries.”

“We’ll see what the boss says about that,” I said. I drank the rest of my drink and stood. “If anyone needs me, you can find me at the Phoenix Roost auction house. And for their sake, don’t start trouble there.”

“Heh, the devil’s got you on a leash.”

“The devil gave me my wife back. I think the leash looks nice on me.”

“So it does. ‘Til next time, Fries.”

“Later, Bruno.”

Author’s Note

Yes, Batman knows about Rigal’s activities. It’d be really weird if he didn’t. He’s just extremely cautious at the moment and willing to consult magical experts.

In other news, people think Rigal’s playing 4D chess. Meanwhile, Rigal’s playing Tic-Tac-Toe… maybe. He’s basically flipping a coin and doing whatever he wants in the moment.

Zatara might not know about Rigal’s conversation with his daughter, but he sure as shit knows the wards were tampered with. 

Harley exists in this setting. I don’t know why YJ wrote her out of it. She probably won’t be in the peerage, but she’s such a staple to the Joker that I can’t imagine a DC setting with one and not the other.