by Lisa Yee
Back in the Bat-Bunker, Batty was soaring around the room, diving and swooping like Beast Boy had taught her. Batgirl started running the numbers and came to the conclusion she had suspected. There was so much she needed to do, like to finish and upload the HarleyGrams and create all the new B.A.T. gadgets she wanted. But how could she do it all without compromising?
Sure, there was the TechTalkTV money, but Batgirl had the good sense not to spend it all; she’d invested some of it for later. Her father would be proud.
“What am I supposed to do, Batty?” she asked. The little bat perched on her shoulder. “To be on the top of the tech world takes funding. There are so many extra things I want to do—not just for me, but for the school, for Harley, for the world!”
The familiar chime of an email landing in her in-box sounded. Batgirl looked. This one had passed the strong spam filter she had created. Ever since she’d won the TechTalkTV competition, she’d gotten hundreds of emails a day, most from people wanting something or selling something.
This message was from the Metropolis National Bank and encrypted with a legitimate security code. She clicked Open.
Not believing her eyes, Batgirl pressed the button on her com bracelet. “Supergirl,” she whispered. “Can you come to the Bat-Bunker immediately?”
Before she finished her last word, Supergirl was standing next to her saying, “I’ve never seen so many zeros.”
“I know!” Batgirl replied. “And it looks legit.”
Supergirl’s eyes grew big. “Who do you think sent you the money?”
“I’m trying to figure that out myself,” Batgirl said as she input the codes from the bank and ran them through her computer.
“I got it!” Supergirl shouted so loudly that the room reverberated. “I bet you have a tech angel, someone who saw you on the TV show!”
“The note says that the funds are to remain secret or I forfeit them,” Batgirl said. She stared at the long list of numbers and letters her computer was coming up with and tried to decipher it. Suddenly, she let out a gasp.
“What is it?” Supergirl asked.
“I know who sent the money,” Batgirl said as she double-checked her findings.
“Who?” Supergirl asked. “Is it that producer from the TV show? I bet it’s her!”
Batgirl shook her head. “I can’t say,” she explained. “It’s supposed to be an anonymous gift.”
“Your secret is safe with me, Batgirl,” Supergirl assured her. “Er…especially since I don’t know who it is!”
“Thank you,” Batgirl said. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some HarleyGrams to create!”
“Food, food, food!”
Batgirl looked down at her com bracelet. She couldn’t believe how much time had passed. “Hello?” Supergirl was saying. “Can you hear me, Batgirl? It’s time for dinner. Dinnertime!”
The noise level in the dining hall was almost crushing. Dinner was always more rambunctious than lunch, since classes were over for the day and everyone was eager to decompress. But before the cafeteria ladies could ladle the Super Surprise Stew onto Batgirl’s plate, the room began to shake violently.
Everyone went into defense mode. Seconds later, as the alarm sounded, Bumblebee was flying through the dining hall announcing, “Save the Day Alarm! This is not a drill. Repeat, this is NOT a drill. Earthquake in Metropolis. Buildings down! People hurt! All Supers to the city, NOW!”
The Supers scattered, each heading to different quadrants of Metropolis, as they had been trained to do. Racing to the garage, Batgirl leapt onto one of the motorcycles. She secured her helmet, then sped downtown. She was able to access the police scanner on her B.A.T. computer watch. Morris’s Sure-Enuf Shoe Repair was her first stop.
“Mr. Morris, are you okay?” Batgirl called as she ran inside. She didn’t let the heavy dust and debris stop her. When she flipped on her Accelerated Amplification Device, she heard a cough and followed it. An elderly man was trapped beneath a mountain of shoes. Instantly, Batgirl began to free him.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“No!” Mr. Morris wheezed.
“That’s good,” she said.
“NO!” he yelled. The sides of his mouth curled downward and there was insult in his eyes. “Not you!”
Batgirl stopped.
“In my day, super heroes could fly and move buildings, and were all men. NOT GIRLS!” Mr. Morris grumbled.
Batgirl continued to remove the shoes, then lent a hand to help him up.
“Next time,” he grumbled, “I want a real super hero, not a girl.”
As Batgirl continued rescuing people, most of whom were far more grateful than Mr. Morris, she tried not to let him get to her. Was she not a “real super hero”? Was she trying to fool everyone, including herself? Batgirl watched as Wonder Woman and Supergirl teamed up to steady a bridge that threatened to collapse with rush hour traffic still on it. Over at the zoo, Beast Boy was leading the escaped animals back to their habitats. Katana was cutting through the trees that blocked the roads, and Cyborg was hauling them away. It looked like the superpowered heroes had everything under control.
“I am cheating! I am cheating! I AM CHEATING!” All over the school, computers were broadcasting on full volume, “I am cheating!”
“Make it stop!” Cheetah yelled, covering her ears.
“The way to make it stop is not to start,” Batgirl tried to tell her and the others. “It’s a spam virus!”
Everyone had received the same email. The link promised, “Guaranteed success as a super hero!” Who wouldn’t want to click on a link like that, especially since it looked like the emails had come from Vice Principal Grodd’s office? But when you clicked on the link, “CHEATER! CHEATER! CHEATER!” bellowed in Grodd’s gravelly voice.
And it wasn’t just this. Other computer jokes were making the rounds at school. Naturally, suspicion focused on Beast Boy, who was known for his oversized sense of humor, like the time he said he was thirsty, then turned into a camel and drained the punch bowl at Star Sapphire’s birthday party extravaganza.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Hawkgirl said as the rest of the Junior Detective Society nodded.
“Not to worry, Batgirl,” Poison Ivy assured her. “We’ve got it handled.”
“Yes, you deal with the computers, we’ll find the culprit,” The Flash said.
The thing was, Batgirl wanted to help capture the culprit, too. Her father always said that one of the most rewarding parts of being police commissioner was catching the bad guys. Batgirl wished she were a member of the Junior Detective Society. But that was one club you couldn’t just sign up for. You had to be invited.
Still, there was plenty to do. With the email spam taking over, it seemed like everyone, students and teachers alike, needed Batgirl’s help. She was glad Cyborg’s computer skills allowed him to help her prioritize the real emergencies from the false ones.
“Is everything okay?” Principal Waller asked. She had made it a point to check in with Batgirl at least once or twice a week.
“Sure!” Batgirl said brightly. She made a serious effort to look happy and carefree. “Everything is good. No, wait—it’s great!”
Waller frowned. “I know everyone is asking for your tech help. I also know the teachers are piling on the assignments right now for midterm grades. And I’ve heard that you’re taking on special projects, like one for a student who happens to have her own video Web channel. That seems like an awful lot to me.”
Batgirl was silent for a moment. What could she say? Waller was right.
“Please don’t tell my dad,” she begged.
Waller arched an eyebrow. “If you can handle it all, I won’t. But the minute I think you’re overloaded, I will bring this up with your father.”
Batgirl nodded. What Waller was saying wasn’t a threat, it was a promise.
“Clearly you’re stressed,” Supergirl said. They were in PE climbing up a fire tower that was, well, on fire.
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Luckily, Supergirl had super-hearing and could hear Batgirl from inside the pyroproof face mask and full-body gear protecting her.
“I’m not stressed!” Batgirl said.
From the ground, Catwoman and Barda began throwing stones, logs, and other debris at them, per Wildcat’s orders.
“This isn’t a dance!” the coach shouted. “This is a test of your climbing skills—under pressure. Faster!”
“Well, I think you’re overdoing things,” Supergirl said. She caught one of the logs and tossed it back down to Barda, who batted it with her Mega Rod, sending it sailing back as if they were playing volleyball.
The fire was hot, but Batgirl was determined to get to the top of the tower and access the water barrel and douse the flames.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve signed you up for a session with Dr. Arkham,” Supergirl said nonchalantly.
“What if I do mind?” Batgirl said, trying to tamp down the heat. Arkham? What did she need a counselor for? She was fine. Maybe a tad stressed, but to be sent to Arkham? Really, now. Was that necessary?
At the top of the tower, Batgirl unleashed the water, letting it gush down, and put out the fire with a steamy hiss.
“I see from your charts that you have excelled as a student since our first meeting,” Dr. Arkham said as he stroked his impressive beard. “You do know why you’re here, correct?”
“Yes.” Batgirl hoped this wouldn’t take long. She didn’t want to miss Liberty Belle’s history class. They were having a test, and she could use the relaxation of a test.
“People think I’m stressed,” she told him. “But really, I’m not. Okay, okay, maybe a little. Sometimes. But not all the time. Not when I’m asleep!” She let out a too-loud laugh. Batgirl kept dreaming about all the things she was supposed to get done and would wake up exhausted.
“I suppose I should try to slow down, maybe just a bit,” she mused aloud. “But perhaps the solution would be to prioritize better. Not to ignore anything, but to categorize into A, B, and C sections, A being ‘Get it done now,’ B being ‘Important, but it won’t kill you to wait a bit,’ and C being, ‘Get to it when you can.’ ”
Dr. Arkham kept nodding, sometimes with his eyes closed. Batgirl continued. “Everyone thinks they’re the only ones having a tech crisis. Maybe if I had them fill out a form, they’d have to slow down and think instead of running to me at the first sign of trouble.”
Batgirl spoke faster and faster as new plans started to form. By the end of the session, she felt much better. “Thank you, Dr. Arkham. You’re amazing!” she said.
He started to speak but stopped himself. After all, Batgirl had done all the talking, and this had been one of his most productive counseling sessions of the week!
“Oh,” Batgirl added as she was leaving his office. “My HarleyGrams are set to debut soon. They’ve been taking up a ton of my life. But once they’re up and running, I’ll have a lot of free time.”
“WOWZA! BAM! BOOM! I’m LOVING it!”
Batgirl couldn’t help being thrilled by Harley’s enthusiasm. She had worked so hard on the HarleyGrams, and now, at last, they weren’t just computer codes, they were real!
“Here’s what you do,” a video of Harley was saying on the screen. They had logged on to the Harley’s Quinntessentials home page. “Just click on my face and instantly a HarleyGram will pop up on your computer keyboard. Then wait for the fun to begin!”
“Shall we try it?” Harley asked. Her eyes were shining.
“You do the honors,” Batgirl said generously.
“Here we go!” Harley cried as she dramatically clicked the mouse.
Almost instantly, a little hologram of Harley Quinn appeared on the keyboard. It did flips and jumps as it ran back and forth across the keys, waving a mallet, and yelling, “Harley’s Quinntessentials!”
“This is amazing,” Harley said. Lois Lane was doing a feature on the latest craze to sweep the country. “My HarleyGrams have been available for less than a week and nearly half a million people have downloaded them!”
“Did you create this yourself?” Lois Lane asked.
“Well, it was pretty much all my idea,” Harley bragged as she leapt up and did a flip. “That’s right! Who’s right? Harley! WOWZA!”
Batgirl didn’t say anything when she saw the interview.
“It was you,” Katana pointed out. “Not her.”
“It’s okay,” Batgirl said. “Seriously, I’ve had enough of the spotlight to last me a couple of decades. I’m more than happy to sit this one out.”
The anonymity didn’t last long. Lois Lane was too excellent a reporter to take anything at face value. She had done a follow-up story about the HarleyGrams, revealing that Batgirl was the brains behind the Internet phenomenon.
Soon Super Hero Hotline had devoted a full segment to HarleyGrams with its kooky hosts demonstrating how a HarleyGram works, using a giant keyboard and then running across it yelling and hitting each other with mallets.
Of course, the most press came from Harley herself. She interviewed Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Katana, Poison Ivy, and other students, asking for their “true and real candid opinions about these amazing HarleyGrams!”
“I think they’re fun!” Wonder Woman said.
“I’ve never seen anything like them before—at least, not on Earth,” admitted Supergirl.
“A CheetahGram would be better,” Cheetah pointed out.
“Is it good for the environment?” Poison Ivy asked. Her interview got cut.
The person Harley forgot to interview was Batgirl. But that didn’t detract from the attention she was getting. Soon major tech companies wanted to hire her immediately. HarleyGrams were the must-have toy, and Batgirl was lauded for her high-tech skills. When she refused all interviews, it only made her more mysterious and thus more sought after.
Despite her protests, Batgirl was now a full-blown media star, and with the spotlight shining brightly on her, she could barely see past it.
The next week swept past in a blur. Batgirl was busy with her schoolwork and troubleshooting assorted tech problems. The library installation had gone well. Now students were able to access books and resource material from their dorm rooms, space vehicles, anywhere—though many still congregated at the heavy wooden tables in the library that were lit with old-fashioned green banker’s lamps.
“It feels so awesomely retro and academic to study in here,” Hawkgirl whispered.
“I know!” Batgirl agreed. “I know…but this is where all the knowledge is. I love the smell of information in this room.” Just as she was about to sniff an old leather-bound copy of Ra’s al Ghul’s The Decline of the Ancient World, someone cried, “THERE YOU ARE!”
Everyone looked up to see Harley holding her mallet in the air as if ready to strike.
“Batgirl,” she yelled. “I need to talk to you, NOW!”
Instinctively, Batgirl shushed her. Everyone knew to keep their voice down in the library. “What is it?” she asked as she rushed Harley into the hallway.
“The HarleyGrams have gone bonkers!” Harley blurted out. She could not stop jumping up and down.
“Explain,” Batgirl said evenly. She was an expert at calming people down. When it came to computer issues, people often lost control. A recalcitrant computer could bring even the toughest heroes close to tears.
“I’m getting complaints that some of the HarleyGrams are running back and forth on the keyboards, changing what people are typing,” Harley said. “Then the HarleyGram takes out her mallet and WHAM! She uses it to hit random computer keys! Random keys! WHAM!”
Batgirl shook her head. This couldn’t be happening! “Wait. Slow down, Harley,” she said. “Are you telling me that the HarleyGrams are physically hitting the keyboards?”
Harley nodded. Batgirl felt weak. It wasn’t possible. How could a hologram do that? They were just computer-generated light projections.
“How many computers have been affected?” she ask
ed. “Is it a confined area or widespread?”
“So far the complaints are just at school. Can you fix it? Batgirl, you have to fix it. People are getting mad at me!”
The two hurried over to the Bat-Bunker. Luckily, Batty was a heavy sleeper; otherwise Harley’s yelling would have startled her awake. Batgirl sneakily moved her to the closet so Harley wouldn’t see her.
“Please,” Batgirl said as Harley bounced off the walls. Literally. “If you want me to fix this, you’re going to have to stay still and be quiet.”
Batgirl fired up her computers. The screens bathed the room in blue light. Harley’s face turned red while she held her breath in an effort to remain silent. Batgirl logged on, then checked the HarleyGram Comments/Praise/Complaints email account. Sure enough, there were dozens of complaints. Cheetah and Star Sapphire had taken videos of their HarleyGrams running amok. Star Sapphire had sent a scathing letter threatening to sue. Miss Martian apologized and then asked how to fix it.
“I’m going to disable the HarleyGrams,” Batgirl said. “That means no one else can download one until I figure out what’s gone wrong. It could just be a minor programming error. Luckily, it seems confined to Super Hero High.”
Harley exhaled. “So you’re gonna fix it, right?”
“I’m going to try,” Batgirl assured her. “Um, if you don’t mind, I can get more done when I’m alone.”
“Got it!” Harley said, nodding sagely.
Batgirl looked at her. “Harley, that means leave.”
“Oooooh,” Harley said. “Call me when it’s fixed!”
“Hey, do me a favor,” Batgirl said when Harley was almost out the door. “Can you ask Cyborg to come to the Bat-Bunker? Tell him I need tech assistance ASAP!”
Batgirl stayed up deep into the night. She looked up every Super Hero High student who had downloaded a HarleyGram—and that was almost everyone. Then, one by one, she examined the accessed files. She had noticed that on those computers with a rogue HarleyGram, the codes had a tiny variation from the others. But how did it get there? And how did a hologram turn into solid matter?