Read Online The Further Adventures of Batman by Martin H. Greenberg - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Martin H. Greenberg
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exception to that rule, by virtue of his unique position. It was his duty not to be seduced by other men’s words. He knew that Batman did not belong there. He pretended to listen, but all the time his right hand was snaking toward his belt, where a two-shot derringer, disguised as a Hickok belt buckle, awaited his touch.
Batman had had no insurmountable difficulties scaling the Gaudi at first. He hadn’t been able to use the means that had gotten him over the ARDC fence. In that instance he had employed a whiz-bang, a simple enough contraption designed to make brilliant flashes of light and strange, unsettling noises, and to do so long enough to allow an attack to be launched from another quarter. The attacker had been Batman himself, climbing up and over the fence, protected from the electrical current by his insulated gloves and boots. For a moment he had blotted out the stars as he came over the fence and down the other side. During that brief time, Billy-Joe and Steve were blinking into the flash of the whiz-bang, blinded and deafened for critical moments necessary for Batman to land safely and secretly on the other side.
No such diversion could be used here. No distraction could be counted on to rivet the attention for the long minutes that would be needed to scale the Gaudi, and nothing in Batman’s bag of tricks could propel him to the fortieth floor.
Luckily, there was a brilliant gibbous moon that night. It bathed one face of the building in its cold white light, but left the other faces in darkness. Using spring-driven crampons of his own devising that permitted him to get footholds on granite, the Masked Man swarmed up the dark side of the building. When he reached the fifth floor, where there was a row of gargoyles, an expedient presented itself. The next level of gargoyles was on the tenth floor, and each five floors after that. The Batarang presented a feasible opportunity, tied to a light line on the end of a coiled line. Batman was an expert at throwing the curiously shaped Batarang, similar to a boomerang but infinitely more useful in terms of angles that it could be projected along.
Batman’s first cast was a few feet high. He retrieved the Batarang and threw again, cautioning himself not to overdo it—precision was called for, not brute strength.
This time the Batarang flew true and coiled around the neck of a stone devil.
To climb forty stories up a rope is, in its quiet way, a greater feat than many others the world deems more spectacular. Luckily, Batman had along a BatHoist to assist him on vertical assents by rope. The little device, powered by a miniature atomic motor, and operating through a cunning set of gears, was able to pull a man’s weight up a rope at a steady four miles an hour.
When Batman gained the fortieth floor, he used a handheld punch to take out the exterior window fasteners and let himself in. He took care not the drop the window, and refastened the fasteners again from the inside, reversing the hand-held punch and tapping the rivets in with great delicacy. After that, it was easy enough to skulk down the hall and find the main conference room where the Joint Chiefs were meeting.
“What is the meaning of this?” Admiral Fenton said. “I’ve heard of you, of course, Batman. It is said that you serve some good causes. But if you think your reputation is going to intimidate me, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“I had no such thought,” Batman said. “I merely wanted to present a few facts about the ARDC weapons systems with which you are proposing to arm our forces.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Fenton said, “trying to teach us our business. We’ve checked out those weapons to the hundredth decimal point. They’re the best I’ve ever seen.”
“Perhaps,” Batman said. “But have you also checked out their computer-supported operating systems?”
“It’s a new system,” General Rohort said. “Supposed to be the best the mind of man has
Batman had had no insurmountable difficulties scaling the Gaudi at first. He hadn’t been able to use the means that had gotten him over the ARDC fence. In that instance he had employed a whiz-bang, a simple enough contraption designed to make brilliant flashes of light and strange, unsettling noises, and to do so long enough to allow an attack to be launched from another quarter. The attacker had been Batman himself, climbing up and over the fence, protected from the electrical current by his insulated gloves and boots. For a moment he had blotted out the stars as he came over the fence and down the other side. During that brief time, Billy-Joe and Steve were blinking into the flash of the whiz-bang, blinded and deafened for critical moments necessary for Batman to land safely and secretly on the other side.
No such diversion could be used here. No distraction could be counted on to rivet the attention for the long minutes that would be needed to scale the Gaudi, and nothing in Batman’s bag of tricks could propel him to the fortieth floor.
Luckily, there was a brilliant gibbous moon that night. It bathed one face of the building in its cold white light, but left the other faces in darkness. Using spring-driven crampons of his own devising that permitted him to get footholds on granite, the Masked Man swarmed up the dark side of the building. When he reached the fifth floor, where there was a row of gargoyles, an expedient presented itself. The next level of gargoyles was on the tenth floor, and each five floors after that. The Batarang presented a feasible opportunity, tied to a light line on the end of a coiled line. Batman was an expert at throwing the curiously shaped Batarang, similar to a boomerang but infinitely more useful in terms of angles that it could be projected along.
Batman’s first cast was a few feet high. He retrieved the Batarang and threw again, cautioning himself not to overdo it—precision was called for, not brute strength.
This time the Batarang flew true and coiled around the neck of a stone devil.
To climb forty stories up a rope is, in its quiet way, a greater feat than many others the world deems more spectacular. Luckily, Batman had along a BatHoist to assist him on vertical assents by rope. The little device, powered by a miniature atomic motor, and operating through a cunning set of gears, was able to pull a man’s weight up a rope at a steady four miles an hour.
When Batman gained the fortieth floor, he used a handheld punch to take out the exterior window fasteners and let himself in. He took care not the drop the window, and refastened the fasteners again from the inside, reversing the hand-held punch and tapping the rivets in with great delicacy. After that, it was easy enough to skulk down the hall and find the main conference room where the Joint Chiefs were meeting.
“What is the meaning of this?” Admiral Fenton said. “I’ve heard of you, of course, Batman. It is said that you serve some good causes. But if you think your reputation is going to intimidate me, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“I had no such thought,” Batman said. “I merely wanted to present a few facts about the ARDC weapons systems with which you are proposing to arm our forces.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Fenton said, “trying to teach us our business. We’ve checked out those weapons to the hundredth decimal point. They’re the best I’ve ever seen.”
“Perhaps,” Batman said. “But have you also checked out their computer-supported operating systems?”
“It’s a new system,” General Rohort said. “Supposed to be the best the mind of man has
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