The Super Killer

Ch.7

Palmer flicked his cigarette out the open window of the automatic car and stepped outside to meet the officers guarding Wayne Manor. Gordon, following close by, said hello to the other officers dressed in blue and black. The two cops were mostly silent, but when they spoke, they always looked back at the stately mansion. Its many windows were mostly darkened, but here and there a room was lit up, even though the house was empty. Palmer walked to the front door where two more of Gotham's finest had their guns drawn. He looked at the young men, not even in their thirties, and saw fear in their faces. Why don't they trust their superiors?

Palmer excused the officers. "Go wait at the front gate with the others. No one comes in or out except us." Palmer pushed the front door open with his shoulder. He asked Gordon, "What was it like the first time you entered the Batcave?"

Gordon wiggled his mustache as he closed the large oak door behind him. "I felt like a kid in a toy store. It was unreal. How about you?"

Palmer walked through the door like he lived there and straight into the first-floor library. He said with his back turned, "I thought it could use some windows. Did he show you the secret entrance?"

"No, I was only the chief of police, so I had to wear a blindfold."

Palmer walked to a tall bookcase with black shelves. It sat alone next to a cold fireplace. He lit a fresh smoke and let his fingers find the red crimson spine of a large untitled book. He pulled on the book and stepped back as the whole bookcase groaned and swung open like a door.

"So cliché," Gordon said.

"That's what I said, but you know why Bruce chose the bookcase? He told me, 'No one cares for books anymore.' He said they're irrelevant, and the best way to hide a secret is to put it in a book."

Palmer pointed his flashlight into the open doorway, but the light didn't make it far before it died in the endless darkness. He turned the light off and felt a cold, steady breeze run up the ends of his pants and sleeves. The coldness covered him as he puffed at his cigarette. The light from his cigarette exposed the bare rock, which was wet and smelled of moss or maybe mould; Palmer couldn't tell and didn't care. He wanted to get through the darkness as quickly as possible.

Good old Bruce sure knew how to use fear as a deterrent.

Palmer felt steel under his foot. There was a beep that echoed loudly and only stopped when the Batcave recognized Palmer's heartbeat. The room hummed from an unseen generator. The lights came on. Palmer went to the control module for Brother Eye. I wonder who shut you down? He dropped his hand on a scanner next to an inlaid keyboard. All the controls around him lit up as a mechanical voice asked for identification. Palmer typed his super number into the computer and pressed enter. He then opened his eye for the retinal scan. The computer flashed green. "I'm going to run a quick diagnostic test, then check the cameras."

Gordon watched as Palmer interacted with the machine. He approached it, almost afraid, as if the computer would attack him. "I can't believe Bruce rebuilt this machine."

"Of course he did. Who would you rather have it?" Palmer asked, typing. "Us or them?"

"No one."

"That's not our reality, and Bruce knew it. Once power like this is created, it will never stay dead."

"It should. How many supervillains have hacked into this machine and used it to attack supers and spy on citizens and governments? This thing is always working against us."

Palmer typed vigorously with his eyes focused on a monitor. "If we rid ourselves of this machine, we would be murderers," Palmer said. "And I'm pretty sure we're the ones who stop the murderers. But I could be wrong."