Supergirl slid slowly down into the corner of the room as her legs buckled. She felt the pain rip through every part of her body as her strength ebbed away. As she slid lower she actually felt slightly better for a moment as the lead table helped shield her a little from the devastating effects of the Kryptonite on the table top. She tried not to show any improvement lest the doctor realise. Unfortunately for her, Willoughby picked up the rock anyway, prompting a new wave of pain to wash over her. Her head slumped as she drew up her knees to her chest, limiting the area of her body exposed and lessening the pain slightly. Willoughby saw things differently. Jarvis and Wheeler appeared through the entranceway behind her, as the Doctor mocked her.
“Well, look at you, cowering in the corner! Bet they told you I’d got tiny bits of this stuff, eh?” she turned the piece of Kryptonite in her hands and then tossed it up a few inches before deftly catching it as she gloated at the Girl of Steel. “Well, that was all I could get from official sources – just small shavings that they wouldn’t miss. Then it dawned on me- wherever these government specimens had fallen there was likely to be more lying around. This little beauty was on a farmer’s mantelpiece in Iowa. Bought it for a $1000 and a flash of my government badge that convinced the dumb hick he was helping the nation.”
Jarvis looked at Wheeler pointedly. That was pretty much the same spiel she had given them, but with more dollars involved. Wheeler shrugged back indifferently. Jarvis didn’t like being considered a ‘dumb hick’.
The Doctor turned as they entered. “Well, hello boys. Let me guess, you couldn’t find her down below. Well, don’t sweat it. Looks like I didn’t need you or the belt after all, to pay her back. You see guys, she killed my husband. Oh , not directly. She just had to show off while saving the city, didn’t you, bitch?” she glared at the Kryptonian.
“You said she’d gone nuts, she was gonna kill people, that we had to stop her!” Jarvis said.
“Well, she did kill Richard. Maybe I over emphasised the rest. What do you care? You’ll get $30,000 just for standing in a corridor.”
At that moment, the growing roar of a jet filled the room as the ship was deliberately buzzed.
“What was that? “ said Jarvis.
“Oh, for Christ sakes , what did you think it was? That was a jet, you retard! She must’ve told them she found us. No matter. Won’t save her now.” She squatted down beside the dying heroine, her tight skirt causing her some difficulty. “I was going to just sit here and watch you suffer, but you could take hours to die, so you know what? I can still watch it all from the comfort of a chair – I’ve been watching your every move, you arrogant slut,” she gestured over her shoulder to the tiny camera above the door “ever since you came on board. You may be beautiful, you may be strong, but I’m a helluva lot smarter than you. Wheeler, get topside and keep a look out, don’t want any SEALs storming the place. Einstein,” Jarvis frowned at the insult “ stay in the corridor, if she tries to get out, just use that rock, she’ll back up, she got no choice. And guys, don’t worry- I’ve planned for this anyway, I got us a way out and you’ll still get paid.” She turned back to face Supergirl. “Don’t let his looks fool you, he may seem a softy but Jarvis there hacked three guys to death with a machete. He can be tough when he wants - right, sweetie?” Jarvis looked embarrassed, blushing slightly as he looked at the floor and shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“If that was a jet, then this isn’t a government sanctioned job at all is it?” asked the seaman.
Willoughby didn’t answer, she just rolled her eyes exasperatedly.
Supergirl tried weakly to punch through the steel deck plate, but her feeble blow barely dented it. Willoughby laughed. She tried again, but with even less effect.
“Maybe I was wrong, maybe you’re just beautiful!” the doctor laughed again. “But either way, not for long. I don’t know how long this stuff will take to do the job…couldn’t find that out in the government files…so I’ll just have to stall the cavalry a little while longer.” She tapped her pristine teeth with a fingernail in thought “I know, I’ll tell them we captured you and we’ll trade you for… for the Mayor, hmmn? That ought to buy me a couple of hours and by the looks of things that’s about all it’s gonna take to finish you off. A quick call and then I’ll settle down to watch the show. Don’t go away now!” She stepped through the doorway, still holding the deadly meteorite, then stopped.
“OOPS! Nearly forgot!” She tossed it directly at Supergirl and then she disappeared through the hole in the wall, laughing happily.
Supergirl frantically squirmed trying to get out of the way but it struck her directly on the ‘S’ at her breast as she had half risen against the wall.
“AAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!” she screamed in agony as it hit her like a knife thrust, the pain stabbing through her where it struck before ebbing away as the rock bounced off her, landing some four feet away as she slid back down the wall to fall on to the deck, her body crumpled pathetically in the corner.
“P-please….” Supergirl whispered. But her cry was drowned out by the doctor.
“JARVIS!”
Jarvis looked at the beautiful young woman curled up in the corner for a long moment, rather sadly. He seemed about to intervene when the Doctor’s voice drifted in from the corridor.
“JARVIS! I don’t see you outside the door. Wheeler can always kill you and take your share…”
Her words seemed to break the spell and he turned away “Comin’ doc!” he called as he stepped into the corridor. With her head swimming and vision blurred, she watched him disappear.
Supergirl tried to focus, to rally. She barely had the strength to crawl to the door and even if she did, more Kryptonite awaited her outside in the form of Jarvis’ piece. The large rock in this room was too close to her, robbing her of any chance to do anything. She had to get it further away from herself. But if she could barely move, then she had to move it somehow. Her eyes fell on the lead lined box that she had dropped. If she could get it back inside that casket, she would be fine!
The deadly stone was some four feet from her, off slightly to her left, the box around a foot away to her right. She didn’t even feel that she had the energy to reach for it, instead hooking the container closer with her foot to draw it nearer. She picked it up, though it was heavy now in her weakened condition. She opened it and tried to lean towards the rock, the box splayed open before her. The lead of the box now shielded her partly, making her feel a little better, but as she moved nearer it so too the draining effect of the meteorite increased. Pain seared through her fingertips as they held the box, feeling almost as if they were being burned as she was moving towards a furnace. The box became impossibly heavy and her extended arms holding it dropped as she felt the full force once more. She tried again and again, but failed, slumping back down, letting go of the box as each attempt left her weaker. She was sitting on her right thigh, her legs bent around to her left, her arms now holding her up, supporting her torso as the strength left her and her body sagged, her head dropping , the box now on the floor between her arms. She raised her head slightly, looking balefully at the cause of her destruction through golden strands of her cascading hair.
She needed desperately to get the mineral further away, to the other corner of the room. Perhaps then she might use her original plan to use the lead table as some kind of shield. She then had another idea – she could use her heat vision to melt the deck then knock the stone down to the deck below! She tried to focus on a patch of the decking but she quickly realised she would never have enough strength to reach the 1500 plus degrees necessary to melt the steel. She gave up, stifling back a sob of pain as the meteorite took its toll. She stared down at the smooth metal decking ruefully. Hard to believe just minutes before she had slid through it as easily as a knife through butter when she had punched her way into the room next door. Her train of thought made her stop.
She had slid through it ! She couldn’t physically move the meteorite, by touching it herself but perhaps there was a way that she didn’t have to. She grasped the box with one hand and with renewed hope drew it back, then slid it forward then back twice more on the smooth steel decking to test the resistance and then she released it , sliding it swiftly across the floor to cannon into the rock. The irregular object skittered over the flat, relatively smooth surface, bouncing off a wall to come to rest against the far corner of the room. Supergirl instantly felt better, but collapsed to the floor anyway, partly in relief , partly play acting for the camera and partly again to minimise her surface area directly exposed to the source of her weakness. It was still a deadly threat to her. She wasn’t safe yet, but she had bought herself some more time. As she gathered her strength and recovered slightly, she again took stock of the situation. She saw Jarvis gaze in through the opening after the noise she had made. He seemed to smile a genuine smile of encouragement and he pointed upwards and rolled his eyes up. She realised he was indicating the camera above the doorway and he was right. She needed to neutralise it. Feeling better, she flashed a hot glance at the lens, the quick blast of heat causing wires to fuse and transistors to overheat. Though it wasn’t a particularly strong glance, the effort exhausted her.
Willoughby was on the bridge just finishing off her call of demands to the port authorities, whilst Wheeler scoured the night with binoculars.
“I don’t see anything, but they’re there alright. That fly-by was a mistake , some Top-gun jock showing off. But they’re out there, I can feel it. I ain’t going up against no SEAL team, not for $60k, not for $600k, that’s suicide.”
He turned back to stare at the Doctor. “I want out”
She hung up the radio transceiver . “Don’t worry. You won’t have to. That call for the Mayor in trade, that’ll stall ‘em a few hours and a few hours is all we need. I got a plan to get out.”
“Care to share it with us menials?”
“Nope, as that way you need to keep me alive.” The doctor smiled back without humour. “I got you’re number Wheeler. I want to live too, which is why we ain’t making no John Wayne stand here. Just stay cool. No one is taking on a SEAL team. Not you, not me. There’s a way out for us. And I do mean US. Jarvis is a liability… when I give you the word, you can deal with him. You get his share. And….” She suddenly came over all coy as she sidled up to him “…you get me too ,if you want. Oh, I know what you’re thinking,’ this was all for revenge for her husband, what gives?’ but hey, he’s dead and a woman has needs. After tonight the slate is clean. I get my life back, and it’s a life I’d be happy to share with you…as well as all that money the City will pay us for the Mayor or that whore’s body. ”
He smiled as she kissed him passionately on the lips. ‘Men were just such dopes’, thought Willoughby. “Besides, they won’t rush us until they are certain we have the bomb on board.”
“Bomb?” said Wheeler, acutely aware that his small booby traps would not deter any serious opponent. And you didn’t get much more serious than a Navy Seal team. So the Doc did have an ace in the hole after all. He felt better. She was smart. He’d guess she’d have an out planned. And she was a pretty good looking gal to boot. Maybe a life on a beach with her wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Supergirl was still breathing heavily and still very weak, but just putting distance between her and the lethal rock had helped. She draped her cape over herself, tucking her head beneath the soft red fabric as she tried to think of a way out. It was a flimsy defence but it again limited direct exposure, however minutely. It would buy her a little extra time and time gave her more options. Even a few extra seconds were precious. She struggled slowly on all fours over to the table. Unlike a ship’s table, this one, obviously purpose built with the secret compartment just to trap her, was not screwed down into position. She clung to its edge and drew herself up onto her knees, valuing the extra support it gave her. Every second she delayed made her weaker as she was now nearer the source of her pain and her body was directly exposed.
She swallowed hard, gritted her teeth, dipped her shoulder beneath the table top edge and heaved with all her strength. It rose up on two legs and teetered for a moment before slowly starting to fall back into place. But before it touched back down on the deck she tried again with renewed vigour, this time lifting it up to a point of equilibrium where it again teetered, but now she managed to get a foot to the floor beneath herself and then straightened her leg, pushing her whole body upright and the heavy lead table up with it. She pushed as if her life depended upon it, which indeed it did. The heavy lead table wavered for a long moment, each second agony for her, each second requiring more effort than just an instant before just to hold it in position. It rocked on the two legs as she winced with the discomfort, her face screwed up in a mask of pain, her eyes clamped closed. It finally moved away from her, then seemed to hang there invisibly suspended. Then after an endless second, it duly tipped over, putting a welcome few inches of shielding between her and the lethal rock. She collapsed with the effort, sprawled behind the shelter of the table as she slowly recovered her strength. Being in the same room was still a danger for her and long term exposure would kill her, but now the immediate threat had passed. She would no longer be dead in minutes but now hours.
The outcome was only marginally more desirable. She was breathing heavily as she tried to come up with a plan. She was slowly recovering up to a point, but knew she could not expose herself to the stone this close to it without again weakening. She couldn’t get passed the strange psycho Jarvis in the corridor, not in this state; she couldn’t step from beyond the shelter of the table. Sooner or later the Doctor would return to make sure she was finished. Whatever she was going to do she had to do quickly. She risked a very quick glance with one eye around the table edge to ensure the location of the meteorite. Just that quick glimpse left her gasping in pain for long seconds as she recovered, blinking profusely. She had to neutralise it. She thought again about burning through the deck, but even as she was recovering she knew she couldn’t reach the 1540 degrees necessary to melt the deck beneath the stone, as her strength would be dissipated. Even looking to melt a hole in another part of the room and then to knock the meteorite to the level below would take too long. The way she felt now, she could maybe manage a brief burst of 300-400 degrees, at a push perhaps 500 degrees, but not much more. Even several bursts at one spot in the steel would do little good. Then, as she gazed despairingly up at the ceiling, she realised she was approaching this the wrong way. She didn’t need to melt the floor. She needed to melt the lead sheeting lining the ceiling. For lead melted at 327.5 degrees, a much more achievable temperature in her weakened state and one she could reach by looking up from behind the table, without exposing herself to danger directly.
With renewed hope in her young heart, she mustered all the strength and power of her heat vision , staring upon a spot on the ceiling just above where the rock lay. She soon realised though, her strategy was flawed as she could not control easily where the drops of molten lead would land. They partially cooled as they fell, distorting and solidifying slightly which meant the irregular shapes lost their trajectory. Some speckled the deadly space rock as she had intended but others simply fell on to the deck. Also, the effort to melt enough lead to sheath the meteorite entirely was going to be impossible in her weakened state. She felt she could no longer keep up such an intensity of power for her heat vision for a prolonged period.
Instead, she shifted her gaze, running her clear blue eyes in a line across the lead plate, scoring through a large section of it, well in advance of where the stone lay on the floor. Then she quickly glanced at a section behind the meteor, in the corner. She didn’t have the strength left to melt through it but instead weakened the lead, softening it until its own weight from the free end that she had cut gradually caused it to bend and lower, peeling away from the metal ceiling. The weight, coupled with the continued power of her gaze, finally caused it to snap, a large section of plate landing draped over the offending stone with a loud clang that reverberated through the ship. Jarvis however remained in the corridor. He was a strange felon, who seemed torn in his loyalties to the doctor. Maybe he would help her? But he was a brutal murderer, apparently, who had done nothing to help her up until now. She decided she couldn’t trust him, or rely on him to aide her. Finally feeling more herself as the exposure to the Kryptonite was even further reduced, she was able to stand clear of the table, stamping down on the lead sheet to seal the meteorite beneath it . At last safe, she fell back exhausted, her eyes looking skyward as she puffed out her cheeks in a long , slow expellation of her breath.
She waited a few moments, gathering her strength fully. She knew she had to press on, to get out of this room before the Doctor returned. Jarvis prevented exit via the corridor, so instead she set her sights on the far wall. She realised that she had misinterpreted the far wall behind the lead as a bulkhead. As she was still in the deck housing above decks, it must be a reinforcement wall to support the weight of the light mechanism she could hear up above - this meant that the wall was probably thicker than the wall she had bent back, but not as thick as a real bulkhead. But she would need some time to get through it. She bent the lead and steel from the hole she had made back into place and sealed it with a quick press of her hand squashing the soft metal back, melding it together, preventing Jarvis from entering other than by the door. She then melted a few patches around the door frame, like a spot weld, sealing herself in. Now she could at least get out on her own terms, without interruptions.
Willoughby, having realised something was amiss when she returned to the control room and could not raise the camera, came running down the corridor to Jarvis as soon as she heard the clang from the falling lead sheet.
“What the hell is going on? What is the bitch doing?” she demanded.
“How should I know, miss?” Jarvis shrugged. “She sealed herself in. Been a few bangs an’ stuff. Then it’s gone quiet. Maybe she has croaked?”
“You idiot! Why the hell would she seal herself in? She’s up to something. Get in there dammit!” barked Willoughby.
“Door’s got a bomb on it.” He tried pushing against the inner steel and lead lining of the hole Supergirl had created but then sealed. “Need a sledge’ or somethin’, miss.”
“Well….GET ONE YOU MORON!” the Doctor started to pace. “Shit! SHIT!!! Tricky fucking whore! You still here? GO!” she screamed at Jarvis who spread his arms hopelessly and then headed for the deck below in search of a sledge hammer.
Inside the sealed room, Supergirl used her strength to peel back the lead and steel to the next compartment, through the thickened wall of what she had mistaken as a bulkhead. It took her longer than previously due to her weakened condition but with each passing moment she was becoming stronger. As she entered the room beyond, Willoughby could hear the sound of the steel bending , and acting on gut instinct, returned to the control room to switch cameras, picking her up on the second attempt.
“Ahh, there you are, bitch. I don’t know what stunt you pulled last time but I’m gonna watch you like a hawk this time. Let’s see you handle this one. You simply can’t afford to ignore this box, just because of its shape… and then, my dear, you’re done.” She spat viciously.
Supergirl entered the fourth compartment. This time, the table was simply wooden, but the odd shaped box upon it was much more elaborate. It was flat, an inch or so high, around a foot long, and about 3-4 inches wide but with a wider central portion. It was purely lead but at its centre, where it was perhaps half an inch wider on both sides, was a large digital display and numeric keypad locking mechanism. It was numbered 1 through 9. It looked like you might imagine a secret government box to look like - the sort of box that might just house a very special belt. She checked out the rest of the room. In the far wall was a lead lined doorway hatch, that actually opened into the control room, though she was unaware of that. Besides the ubiquitous camera and the usual booby trapped doorway, the room was devoid of any other equipment or furniture. She neutralised the bomb, but deliberately left the camera. She intended to initiate a blackout just before she opened the box, forcing the doctor to come to her to find out what had happened, thereby drawing her out from wherever she was hiding. The digital lock was a six digit combination. She didn’t want to risk forcing it open in case there was a bomb. She recalled Wilson’s briefing, that all of Willoughby’s security passwords were dates translated into the Mayan calendar. Given her attempt to create a doomsday, albeit for a small part of the world, Supergirl tried that first, the end of the thirteenth baktun, December 21st 2012. 122112. Nothing happened. But she remembered the doctor had been educated at Oxford in England. She tried the European version of the date 211212. There was a slight click as the mechanism released.
She was still a little woozy after her ordeal and a part of her was dreading what she would find within the box. This time the box was not hinged but the lid appeared to lift off completely. She liked this less and less.
In the control room, the doctor was getting increasingly frustrated with her hesitancy and caution. As she had done previously, she decided to force the issue by making an appearance.
Supergirl, holding the lead container in one hand by its base, with her other hand gripping the lid, was about to fry the camera when she looked up as the hatch opened and in walked the Doctor, again holding a pistol. The .45 was levelled at the Kryptonian as she spoke. A quick scan revealed the doctor was not wearing the belt.
“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Bravo, on cracking the lock, though I dare say you could’ve just busted it open. You want the belt, go ahead open it up.” Willoughby challenged her. But something in her tone warned Supergirl that the belt was not present in the box. Again her Kryptonian vision showed a human was lying.
Kara eyed her evenly. She decided to play along as she tried to reason with the doctor. “Stop this. Now. Your husband was a decent man, he wouldn’t want you threatening millions in his name, just for revenge against me. Whatever else you have planned, just call it off, this can be just between us. You want me to open this? I will, gladly, if you will just give yourself up to the authorities and end this madness. Call off your threat to blow up whatever you intended and end this peacefully, now. This whole Mayan obsession – it’s NOT a doomsday prophecy, it’s just a change of calendar , you must realise that.”
“Jesus Christ, I know that!!!! I just adopted the Mayan thing because of the name of the device – Mass Accelerator Y-alpha. It’s the first attempt -the alpha- of the 25th iteration of the device, hence Y. When they started all this decades ago, there were lots of MA-1, MA-2 and so on - coded numbers for different projects, tanks, guns et cetera - they just decided on letters rather than numbers for this one. The next would be Y-beta, Y –gamma, then after that we’d go on to Z-alpha and so on. This never was about ‘doomsday’ - I just spread that garbage in my notes to get their attention. I have made a small radioactive device – not nuclear in that sense but it will spread radioactive contaminants across the city. And it’s right where everyone can and can’t see it. Just so I had a bargaining chip to make them hand over you, if I had to. Doesn’t even have to go off on the 21st, it just needs to be at night, well most nights anyways. Tonight will probably do, I’d just need to check on deck. I didn’t really care whether I used it or not. But like a good little hero, you just came a-running, didn’t you? Couldn’t wait to show the world how wonderful you are, all over again. Ok. I’ll play ball. You say you’ll open the case ‘gladly’ if I give up? Deal, I give up.” She lowered the gun. “So go ahead. Open it.”
“And face another booby trap? No thanks.” Supergirl replied. Though truthfully she had just been about to.
“Not afraid, are you? Or is it that there isn’t an audience for you to show off to this time? There is no bomb in that box. Just go ahead , open it, I dare you. DO IT!”
The doctors angry outburst made it much more difficult to tell if she was lying or not, but it seemed to be the truth, that there was no bomb in the belt shaped box. But Supergirl had no doubt that there was danger inside it for her. If not a bomb and not the belt, then…what? Another piece of Kryptonite? She knew she didn’t have to open it, but she decided appeasing the doctor might make her calm down, be more rational, possibly allow her to be dissuaded from her course of action. If she were quick and careful she might be able to get a swift glimpse of any danger and then react accordingly. But if she did, would the Doctor agree to give up as she had stated? She doubted it. Yet if there was the smallest chance of talking her round then she had to at least try.
“You’ll surrender? Give up the bomb and the belt?” Supergirl asked the deranged geologist.
“If you open it. No bomb and no large lump of Kryptonite inside, I swear it. So do it, Supercow, show the world how brave you are this time.” The Doctor spat.
Her anger raised her heartbeat; narrowed her eyes; making it difficult for Supergirl to read her true intent.
Supergirl didn’t trust her, but forewarned was fore-armed. She had told herself that she was doing this for the one percent chance that the Doctor was on the level, that by opening it she would then surrender. But the truth was darker. She knew it was dangerous. She knew it was some sort of trap. But deep inside her, a tiny, mischievous voice urged her to do it. To test herself. To face the danger and triumph. Perhaps the doctor was right after all, perhaps she did relish showing off her abilities. Or perhaps she just had a thrill from the peril. Perhaps it was youthful exhuberance or did she really have a thirst for danger? The gratitude of the nation or individuals was pleasing when you performed a rescue. But was it ever enough? When you were virtually indestructible in day to day life, these dalliances with a deadly peril were what defined your existence. The risk was all. It was stupid and one day she would regret it, but she was young and the young are meant to push the limits. She found she couldn’t help herself. She could have used her speed to disarm the doctor, then searched the ship at her leisure for the bomb or the belt but this way, this way was so much more…exciting. And a dare was a dare, after all she smiled inwardly.
She recalled a line of poetry, centuries old, from the English civil war general, Lord Montrose, echoed hundreds of years later by General Montgomery on the eve of D-Day, about taking a chance:-
‘He either fears his fate much, Or else his desserts are small, He who dares not put it to the touch, To win, or lose it all.’
That was how she felt in this instant. It was madness, but the risk of disaster thrilled her.
All, or nothing. She would dare to put it to the touch.
Slowly, she edged the lid up by the barest millimetre. And held her breath.