บท 60: Unsuccessful experiment
The morning at the new place began with the traditional bed exercises, and I want to say that the trachodrome was bought cool, it was not for nothing that we chose it for so long. After a morning shower, I decided to make breakfast, explaining that last time the Earth's help was so peculiar. My reasoning was accepted, and Harley went to arrange Ivy's plants in the rooms, for there was too little sunlight in the hall, and it was not convenient to water the flowers when the pots were clustered together.
"Tricky... - I froze in front of the door of the humming refrigerator from Bats' apartment, realizing the reason for my companion's quick agreement.
The new kitchen wasn't ready yet, and the old one couldn't be used because of the piles of dirt and dust that had accumulated during the mansion's downtime. Now my maximum was to heat up some leftovers in the microwave and make tea in the electric kettle I'd stolen from the aforementioned apartment. Sliding aside the tarp with Tyndall's hound parts, I dug out a couple of sealed containers of ready-to-eat food, and soon breakfast was ready.
"It's delicious, Mr. J," the blonde said, squinting with pleasure as she took a bite of the curry chicken sitting at the table ^.^.
"Heh, you're the one who cooked it.
"But you heated it up, and it turned out great!" she replied, her smile brightening.
Damn, she's so sweet and kind and caring. The old owner of the body was a real asshole for not seeing this diamond, willing to do anything for a drop of his attention. At times, one wonders what will happen if the girl finds out about the death of the real Joker? At the same time, she came to the treatment center to get me back, and Ivy likes me, stop, not a good example, but Babs is perfect, because in the original universe, she wasn't exactly attracted to the psychopathic clown. My self-exploration was interrupted by the intercom going off, reporting two people standing at the gate. A quick check of the cameras revealed that Natalie had arrived, accompanied by the architect I'd gone to meet. Harley wasn't particularly interested in the whole mess, so she decided to deal with last night's blood and asked me to call her when the plan for the secret lair was ready, at least in general terms.
***
"Good morning," the woman greeted me as she walked up the steps to the door of the mansion.
"Good.
"Mr. Arkham, this is George Trevor," the manager introduced her companion. - He'll be in charge of... You know what," she twisted away, remembering the behavior of the attention detector yesterday.
"Greetings," said the man with a strong British accent, lifting his headdress.
He looked like a true English gentleman of the twenties: perfectly straight posture, dark mustache tucked on his face, an Ulster overcoat thrown over his shoulders, and a bowler hat on his head, giving him a resemblance to Dr. Watson. Even a tattered leather valise was present to complete the image.
I stepped aside, letting the guests in.
Trevor's demeanor changed subtly as he stepped over the threshold of the house. His eyes flashed with excitement, and his gait became a little more springy.
"Beautiful!" He suddenly exclaimed, twirling the tip of his mustache in a dashing manner.
"What an atmosphere, and you can't even tell from the facade that there's such splendor hiding here. May I?" He asked, squinting at the dark columns with lights disguised as candles.
"Look, - I shrugged my shoulders, after all he is an architect, who should familiarize himself with the future front of works, though the works will be carried out much lower, but maybe he will advise something sensible here.
The man crossed the hall with a swift stride and froze in front of one of the columns, examining it closely, then he switched to the next, and then began examining the walls.
"George is our best expert, but his behavior at times can be...
What Natalie was going to say next, I never found out, as the "gentleman" suddenly jumped up, catching on one of the wall lights.
~Skr-r-r-r-r~
With an extended creak, the mount turned, and the thick wall next to it pulled aside.
"You can see your grandfather's work right away," said the architect, pulling on his clothes. - It's missing some kind of riddle, though. I'd make a puzzle or, at the very least, a composite key and hide the pieces at different ends of the mansion. Yeah, that's a great idea.
"But there was no secret passage!" Natalie exclaimed, fidgeting with the house plans on her clipboard.
"Scanners don't always work correctly, especially when you use non-standard approaches," the man said, swinging the door fully open and showing that it was almost a meter thick, but the passage behind it was only half a meter.
"I apologize, Mr. Arkham, we'll check all the rooms again," the manager said, making notes.
"Hey!!!" shouted the explorer into the resulting passageway. - Hmm, looks like it leads to the basement. Shall we check it out?" Without waiting for an answer, he ducked inside.
The woman and I looked at each other and followed. The path did lead to the basement, but instead of joy, Trevor looked upset.
"What's the verdict?" I asked, trying to shake the dust off my clothes; after all, this room hadn't been used in at least fifteen years.
"Not as well as I'd hoped," George replied, continuing to look around the cellar and illuminating his surroundings with an inexplicable flashlight. - You see, Mr. Arkham, there is an extensive network of caves beneath Bristol. I was hoping that the former owner of this mansion had used them in some way and... Hmm," he scratched his moustache, "he's got a hold of them. It's just that your neighbor's family was definitely part of the Underground Railroad*, so I wouldn't be surprised if some of the tunnels turn out to be occupied by other people's secret passages, and active ones at that. Which brings us to the fact that a secret underground base might not be so secret.
"What do you suggest?" I asked, knowing full well that there were more than a couple of passages for transporting slaves to the North.
"Lucky for you the company has the technology to go deeper and reinforce the vaults, but such a treat will come at a cost.
"What's the price?
"First, designate exactly what you want, only let's move to a more suitable place," the man suggested, heading first for the basement exit.
***
The discussion went on for a while, and Harley, who had finished with the blood study, even joined us. According to the plan, my secret superhero lair would be located at a depth of eighty meters, but it could be higher or deeper, depending on the voids found. Naturally, it would be tiered, resembling a beehive in projection, and include a coordination center, a workshop, a room for practicing magic, a small library, a firing range with a gym, a hangar, a laboratory, a medical bay, a couple of emergency exits, and even a few rooms for Dr. Freeze, if I could lure him to my side.
The power source supplying all this splendor will be a hydroelectric plant installed in the bed of an underground river, and for a backup source - a small nuclear reactor, which cost a fortune.
In the process, I had to add a room for "games" at the request of my faithful and anxious assistant, as well as give up all the puzzles offered by Trevor. What's the fun of having a normal biometric scanner instead of a normal biometric scanner? Or tie the opening of the secret passage to a certain melody played on the piano, and the necessary notes will be encrypted in the books on the neighboring shelf? By God, he would have suggested chess pieces instead of plugs for opening hydraulic doors... Hmm, although the original clown would have liked this approach a hundred percent.
In the end, I would have to pay almost two hundred and fifty million for all this splendor, but I was satisfied. I had to agree on a partial payment, because I didn't have the whole sum in hand yet.
Natalie warned that the way down would be blocked while the shelter was being built, as the construction workers would be working in shifts without a break. She said it was to ensure complete anonymity, but I was sure there were alien guest workers or clones involved, which was why all the work was being done without the presence of outsiders, and even now we had to leave the mansion by disabling the alarm system, after which the VSO workers would arrive to rebuild the interior of the main house. The manager guaranteed complete safety, and I was inclined to believe her, otherwise the construction company would have ceased its activities long ago when faced with a couple of angry supervillains.
For this reason we have to hang around again until the evening, but before that we have to do something. Leaving the manager and the architect in the living room, Harley and I popped into the lab, where the girl demonstrated the results of our research.
The blood from Hugo's office wasn't particularly interesting and was normal by all parameters, but the blood from the inscription was not only a little toxic and had a high hemoglobin content, hinting at a non-human nature, but it also contained a lot of impurities to stimulate the central nervous system: xanthine alkaloids, methylphenamine, corazol, bemégride, strychnine, and a large dose of veratrum. I suspect there was something else mixed in, but the sample we got wasn't exactly fresh. Honestly, if anyone with that cocktail wafting through their veins was able to even breathe on their own, I'd be unrealistically impressed.
Of course, I suspected that some smart guy cloned me or did something like that, but a quick comparison showed that my reasoning was wrong, and cloning metahumans who had already awakened their abilities was practically impossible, since ninety-nine percent of the time the result would be non-viable individuals, and few people were willing to spend literally billions of dollars for the sake of dubious results. It would be better to clone Superman than to clone a freaky clown who is only slightly stronger than a trained athlete.
We had only nine days left before the solar eclipse, and we were still in the middle of preparing for it, although having a ready laboratory in the main building and a lot of ordered materials could be considered preparation, because now we could really make napalm grenades that would make a dead man unhappy. I don't know if it's even worth it, though, because we already have a great house and a secret hideout coming soon... Well, I'll see what I can do, and besides, I can always dump this job on Bats, letting him know when and where Grundy will show up.
***
During the trip, Gotham News suddenly called and took a long time to find out whether or not I had left them a request. Considering the charming host, a lot of fans are willing to pretend to be the devil himself to meet their idol. Apparently, I didn't manage to fully convince the person on the other end of the line of my identity, but I still managed to arrange a meeting at the studio tomorrow.
I didn't give up the idea of cleaning the interior, so I stopped a couple of blocks from Jefferson Street at a car wash, where I left the car, having previously asked the employee to take his work very, very seriously. Judging by the trembling knees, my request was taken to heart.
After a short walk, Harley and I found ourselves at the Shadow Peak, whose courtyard was still decorated with runes, for the eclipse had not been canceled, and on that day the spirits would once again try to occupy the bodies lying in the ground, though why Zee didn't just destroy the energy-soaked bones or at least use them for some potions wasn't entirely clear to me.
The sorceress reappeared before us in her sexy outfit, which looked much better than an ordinary sundress, at least from the aesthetic point of view. After greeting our gorgeous duo, she took us into the familiar living room and offered us tea.
Most of the necessary information on the magical world had already been given to us, so today the enchantress agreed to tell us a little more about illusions as a reward for helping with the Overlord, but I had other plans.
"Zee, thanks for such a generous offer, but I'm more concerned with the Grundy situation, plus I've made good progress as it is. Hah!
"И?" The brunette asked after a three second pause.
~Tresk~
"Ouch! How did you do that?!" She exclaimed as the room lit up with a dim flash.
I simply demonstrated a nail-cut index finger with a drop of blood protruding.
"Just yesterday I discovered this interesting phenomenon. I create the frame in a standard way, but I pump it through blood, which allows me to transfer energy almost instantly. I realize it's a crutch, but you have to admit, it's pretty cool.
I continued to be stared at silently with a shocked look.
"That's why I'm showing and telling you this, illusions are undoubtedly a very interesting magical direction, but you can deal with the initial constructs by yourself, but only one beautiful and incredibly clever sorceress can tell me how to finally put the Revenant to rest, - at this moment Harley pressed herself a little harder against me.
Suddenly the mistress of the mansion jumped up from the sofa and, snatching a small dagger from her hat, slashed her own finger, not severely.
"YYNZAMLA TISCH!
A moment, and a honeycomb-like structure emerges around her body, shimmering blue.
"It's working..." she whispered faintly, then suddenly collapsed to her knees. - Shit... TSOG.
Before she sprawled on the carpet, she created another spell, sending a reddish clot in our direction, which crossed the table in swift strokes and soaked into our bodies at the level of the solar plexus.
"Zee!" We exclaimed, rushing to the unconscious mage, but the surrounding shield kept her away.
It would have been nothing, but the blood from the small wound continued to gush out profusely and was clearly not going to stop. I felt as if I were in a movie directed by Quentin Tarantino, where a five-meter fountain of blood gushed from a severed hand.
"How much time do we have?" I asked tensely, watching the incoming red puddle soaking the carpet.
"At this rate, about half an hour," the blonde said in a flash. - What are we going to do?
"It looked like she'd miscalculated and used up all her prana. Body energy," I explained at my companion's questioning look. - Never mind. I hope to hell this shield lets magic through.
I dive into myself, scouring my memory hard, but I can't remember anything except for the wildly complicated rune healing or the elemental regeneration boost that doesn't stack. Okay, I'll do something.
It took almost three and a half minutes to create the necessary charms, but the important thing was that they quietly overcame the protection spell and slowed the blood flow a bit.
"About forty-five minutes now," my assistant estimated.
"That's too bad. What if she doesn't wake up in the meantime? Hmm..." I headed for the door with a brisk step. - House, I don't know how the hell you function, but I really need the library. - A turn of the handle is accompanied by a small burst of magic, like an amulet activation, but beyond the threshold is an ordinary corridor. Damn, I had hoped that since we were guests now, the magical mansion would let us into the repository of knowledge, but bummer.
"Try it the other way around," the girl prompted.
"YRARBIL," the pen clicked softly, and I froze, staring at the maze of books stretching off into the distance. - It worked... Harley, help me look for simple spells for healing or energy transfer.
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