Adam Christopher - The Age Atomic

There was another way.

Kane stood and Evelyn screamed. He saw fear on her face, desperate and cold and black; it was bottomless despair, the expression of the damned.

He turned, and saw Rad and Mr Grieves and Captain Nimrod, frozen in time.

No, not frozen. Time moved on, but Kane had sidestepped it, jumping off the track. Kane had all the time in the world, the countdown to destruction paused at four seconds forever.

Kane looked into the workings of the fusor reactors that powered the army. Despite his being outside of time there was still movement within, the quantum states of the subatomic particles flipping back and forth, back and forth, like they couldn’t quite decide which state was best. It was the Fissure and the two universes, the Pocket and the Origin, slammed together in the underground chamber, Kane knew that. Each universe was incompatible with the other, not enough for anything cataclysmic, but enough to make things difficult.

Kane cancelled the countdown and stepped back into the time track. The fusor reactor in each robot flashed white and then the red spinning power within was slower, calmer, duller.

One.

The countdown clock clacked to zero, and stopped. There was no explosion, no atomic end of New York. The torus reactor hummed, and the robots stayed exactly where they were.

Evelyn flickered and she wasn’t quite there, not anymore. Kane watched her face, watched the fear. Then the factory flared blue as he was pulled by her gravity back out of time, into the interstitial nothingness.

None of this was her fault. She hadn’t wanted to come back. All she’d wanted to do was die, properly, the pain of existence too much. But now she had slipped and was scrambling to get hold once more, and she couldn’t.

Kane was falling too, slipping away from time and space, dragged down by her. He’d used up what energy he could tap in the room. There was no more. And with the countdown stopped, there would be no more for Evelyn either. Together they would fall, forever.

Kane took a step forward. It was harder than he expected. His event horizon was locked to Evelyn’s as they sank down through the foundations of space/time together into a dark place without end. Her eyes were on his, and she didn’t move, couldn’t move. She faded again, and Kane felt the pain in his spine.

She didn’t deserve her fate, and Kane didn’t want to join her, but he needed help. Perhaps there was some power left, some scrap to cling to, something he could use or direct.

A plan formed in his mind. A desperate one, one that he wasn’t sure was even possible. But he had to try.

Kane reached out, his mind brushing another. A person he could trust, who would do his all, his level best, Kane knew. And Kane smiled.

“Rad?”

“Kane,” said the detective behind him. “I… what’s going on?”

Kane shook his head, keeping his eyes on Evelyn. “I need your help, old buddy. We don’t have much time. I need power.”

“I don’t understand. Where are we? Everything’s, ah, blue.”

Kane kept his voice level, and he spoke slowly and clearly. The countdown to atomic annihilation might have stopped, but Kane and Evelyn were teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“We’re in the factory. I’ve pulled you sideways out of time. I need your help. I’ve given you a little of the Fissure’s power, but I need more. Much more. Evelyn and I are locked together. I can’t do it on my own.”

“Where’s Byron?”

A beat. “Byron is gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“Just gone,” said Kane. “Rad, I need your help here.”

Rad stepped forward slowly until he was level with Kane. Kane glanced sideways at him, and saw Rad with his hands in front of his face, looking them over as a moving blue aura crackled around them. Rad’s eyes were wide as he looked at his friend. “OK. Tell me what to do.”

Kane managed a weak smile. Then he slid to his knees. With some of the Fissure’s power syphoned over to Rad, the pain running down his back was brutal, white-hot. The fall was imminent.

“Elektro,” Kane said, and from behind Evelyn the metal man stepped out, red eyes rolling. A whining came from its voice unit, like a radio stuck between stations. “The robot, Rad. Take the fusor and give it to me.”

Rad stared at the robot, then at his hands.

“Kane, I-”

“Trust me, Rad! Do it!” Kane collapsed onto the floor.

He watched as Rad rolled his shoulders and walked towards Elektro, hands outstretched. The robot backed away, but the movement was jerky, like it was pulling against something. Then Rad was standing in front of the machine, the top of his hat coming not quite to the robot’s chin.

The fusor spun lazily in Elektro’s chest, the red light mixing with the blue glow of the room outside of time. Rad reached forward, his hands almost touching the robot’s chest.

Elektro was fast. Rad cried out as both wrists were gripped by the robot’s massive metal hands. Elektro leaned forward, forcing Rad to his knees. Rad cried out again, his face contorted in agony.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that, friend,” said Elektro. It pushed again, and Rad moaned as he was released. The detective toppled sideways to the floor as the robot straightened up and turned to Kane.

Kane shuddered, the pain too much, and the factory flickered into monochrome as he fell through the gap between now and now and returned to the world. The hum of the torus reactor seemed as loud as a hurricane and the footsteps of Elektro like collapsing mountains as it strode towards him.

A blurry shape flashed an inch past Kane’s face, something dark green and flowing, a woman in a long coat, her tall black boots shining beneath the tails, her golden face reflecting the glow of Elektro’s red eyes.

The robot stopped but Jennifer didn’t pause. She powered towards the machine, pulling back her right arm like she was about to loose an arrow.

“I picked this up from a friend,” she said. “Sometimes a punch can save the world.”

Her fist connected with Elektro’s jaw and kept going, tearing the steel apart and turning the robot’s head into a twisted clump of scrap metal. Elektro whined from somewhere inside his torso, as loud as a jet engine, and fell backwards to the floor. Jennifer straddled the machine’s frame as it twitched on the ground; reaching down, she yanked the chest plate off and pulled the fusor reactor out.

“Jennifer?”

As Kane watched, powerless even to rise from the floor, Rad got to his knees and then to his feet. Jennifer held the fusor reactor up and stared into its glowing heart. She looked mesmerized by the light, and if she saw Rad coming toward her, Kane couldn’t tell.

Then she fell, telescoping straight down, the fusor leaving her hands as they dropped away.

Rad was fast and his face was a grimace of determination. He grabbed the fusor before it was halfway to the floor. Then, as he fell over Jennifer’s body, he shouted something. What, Kane couldn’t tell over the ocean of noise in his head, but craning his neck he saw Rad toss the fusor reactor like a football towards him.

This was it. One chance. With a cry, Kane concentrated and pushed at the world, willing the power to rise from somewhere inside him, where the Fissure was hidden. He forced himself to stand; as he did, Evelyn screamed and flickered.

Kane caught the fusor. The light within was red and orange and warm and even holding the device was enough to invigorate him. Then he looked up at Evelyn.

“I don’t want to fall,” said the Ghost of Gotham. She held out her hand to Kane, her blue glow almost extinguished, leaving her grey and cold, an afterimage burned into the universe on that May morning in 1947.

Kane smiled. “Neither do I.” And then he tore off the glass cap of the fusor reactor. He summoned the last ember of his power and gave the ions within a little push, setting the reactor to destruct as the delicate balance within was disturbed. With one hand he pressed the cylinder to his chest as the device began to whine, the tone higher and higher, and he walked towards Evelyn. He took her hand, feeling pins and needles as their skin touched. He drew her into an embrace. And then she understood. She relaxed in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, her feet touching the ground.