Justice League of America - Batman: The Stone King by Alan Grant (best books to read for self development .TXT) 📕

blasphemers die. The world spins around. Flame cleanses, and the seed grows. The sun spins around. After the flame, the foul will be sweet. The galaxy spins.

The fire grows.

The sun will cross the sky once more in its eternal dance of life and death. Then the world will be cleansed. What is gone will return.

Trapped deep within his own mind, Peter Glaston was suffused with fear. There was going to be a cleansing. Planet Earth was to be purged.

On Halloween.

CHAPTER 10

Enter the Martian

Gotham City, October 29

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Cassandra?" Batman asked. "It might be dangerous. There's still time to back out."

Cassandra sat in the passenger seat of the Batmobile, cocooned in the mesh of a safety harness, as Batman drove them at speed through the deserted back streets of downtown Gotham. Climate control kept the vehicle's interior at a pleasant temperature, and Cassandra found that staring at the soft glow of the myriad lights on the dashboard was strangely soothing.

They'd left Gordon at Police HQ, his skepticism tempered by the knowledge that Batman took Cassandra's vision seriously. Now, worried himself at what the future had in store for his city, Gordon was redoubling his officers' search for the missing Peter Glaston. Batman had assured him that when they found Peter Glaston they would also find the bull-headed monster who was the key to this mystery.

An idea had occurred to Cassandra while she'd been telling Batman and the commissioner her story. She hadn't said anything at the time, but the thought continued to gnaw at her as Batman guided his futuristic vehicle through a maze of roads and alleyways.

Central Gotham had never been built on a city grid, and its tangled traffic system was a stiff test for even the best of drivers.

Finally, as a green light saw them streaking through an intersection, Cassandra turned to Batman.

"I've been thinking," she began slowly, as if still unsure that the decision she'd reached was the right one. "According to the newspapers, the archaeology expedition retrieved some artifacts from the pyramid. Perhaps if I could touch one of them . . ."

"You think you might have another vision?" Batman finished for her.

Cassandra nodded. "I can't guarantee it, of course. And I have to admit, I'm a little afraid. But if all this is really as serious as it seems, I'm willing to do anything to help you get to the bottom of it." She paused, then added, "After all, Gotham's my city, too."

Batman immediately switched direction, the Batmobile's four-wheel steering spinning its oversized body through 180 degrees in less space than a sub-compact automobile would take.

The university campus was a couple of miles straight out on Fox Boulevard. Scant minutes later they were pulling up in the shadows of a tree-lined residential street, a few moments' walk from the archaeology building.

"You're absolutely sure now?" Batman asked again. He would never willingly endanger any innocent bystander. But how could a vision imperil anyone? It might spook Cassandra, maybe even terrify her, but it would have no power to physically harm her. And who could say what they might learn?

Cassandra's only reply was a slight smile and furtive nod, and Batman hit the button that opened the car's gull-wing doors with a slight hiss of compressed air. They slid out. A touch on a tiny remote control, and the sleek vehicle's chameleon-like light-sensitive paint began to change, blending it in with the tree-dappled shadows.

Hugging the darkness, Batman led her toward the unfenced campus. Security lights shone here and there on the pathways, pools of bright light accentuating the darkness beyond their glow. Batman pulled up short under an old, overhanging linden tree, its dry leaves rustling in the night breeze. Every now and then, one of them fell fluttering to the ground.

A finger to his lips told Cassandra to remain silent. They waited motionless for several minutes until they heard footsteps growing louder. A uniformed security guard came around the corner of the building, his gun snug in its hip holster, a powerful flashlight in his hand. Periodically he shone its beam into the darkness, checking for intruders.

At last, satisfied there was nothing amiss, the guard headed away from them to continue his patrol.

"He'll be back in twenty-three minutes exactly," Batman whispered gruffly. "Plenty of time for us to get inside."

Cassandra wondered how he knew, but didn't ask. It wouldn't have surprised her to find that Batman had memorized the patrol movements around every major building in town–as well as their internal layouts and escape routes. Which, of course, he had. Long experience had taught the Dark Knight never to leave anything to chance.

Cassandra started forward, but Batman grasped her wrist, shaking his head. He pointed up to a corner of the building, where a matt-black closed-circuit TV camera swiveled slowly on its bracket.

"Wait till the lens swings away from us," Batman ordered, "then stay close to me."

Seconds later, they were standing in a recessed staff entrance at the side of the building. Batman had taken a small metal tool from his belt, and Cassandra watched him insert it and twist it carefully in the lock.

With a slight click, the lockpick settled into the tumblers, and Batman pushed open the door.

Cassandra wondered if there was no end to this enigmatic man's talents. She raised her eyebrows and shot him a quizzical look.

"Any good lockpick can pick any good lock," he told her as they made their way inside and he quietly pulled the door closed behind them.

"It'll be ironic," Cassandra pointed out, "if, next time Commissioner Gordon sees us, we're under arrest for breaking and entering."

Cassandra fancied she saw the slightest of smiles cross Batman's lips. But when he spoke, there was no humor in his voice.

"There's no point alerting the commissioner about this until we have a result. Or not." Fleetingly, Batman wondered if he should say any more. But Cassandra was willing to risk herself–she deserved to know. "Besides," he continued, "I