Batman 4 - Batman & Robin

by Michael Jan Friedman

  Coasting to a halt, Robin got off his bike and kicked its stand out. As he approached the entrance—really nothing more than an opening in the overgrowth—he saw the Bird-Signal go out.

  Obviously, it was no longer needed. He was here, wasn’t he?

  With more curiosity than caution, he entered the building. It was lush and mysterious inside, too. Giant floral fans spun dangling from the ceiling. Leaf curtains undulated in the breeze created by his entrance. Full, ripe fruits seemed ready to burst with the promise of pleasure.

  And Poison Ivy lounged on a giant bed of buds in the middle of it all, clearly the mistress of this floral domain. In recognition of Robin’s appearance, she touched the buds on which she rested. They blossomed instantly, transforming themselves into a riot of color.

  Robin smiled. He felt good in Ivy’s presence, intoxicated with her beauty. He came a little closer.

  “Is your thumb the only part of you that’s green?” he asked.

  The green woman smiled back at him. “You’ll just have to find out.” She extended her hand to him.

  Stepping out of the shadows, he took it.

  At Gotham Tower, perched alongside the scientists on a platform overlooking the observatory floor, Freeze began the intricate process of attaching his powerful icing engine to the massive telescope.

  At the same time, Bane laid his explosive charges on the floor below. Unlike Freeze’s task, it didn’t take long. When he was done, he climbed up the tower to stand by Freeze.

  Even when he was a simple molecular biologist, Freeze had hated to have people hover over him as he worked. Silent people, especially. Becoming a creature of the cold hadn’t changed him in that respect.

  He looked up at Bane. “Big family?”

  Bane just stared at him through the slits in his mask.

  “Like pets?”

  Still no answer. Just that stare.

  “Don’t talk much, do you?”

  Bane remained silent. As always.

  Just as well, thought Freeze. The fellow didn’t look like he’d have a whole lot to say.

  Turning back to his work, the villain completed his preparations and engaged the engine. Suddenly, the entire platform was washed in a blue wave of freezing cryonic energy.

  Bane leaped down to avoid it. But Freeze basked in it.

  At least for a while. Then, with a wink at the scientists, he climbed down and looked out one of the windows in the place.

  From his vantage point, he watched a wave of blue-white ice spread from the telescope to the outside of the building, and then descend along its flanks. Before long, the wave had encased the edifice, turning it into an icy fortress. But it wasn’t done there.

  The ice wave spread even farther, whitening the banks of the Gotham River, turning them into snow cliffs. And after that, the river itself came under its influence. In a matter of seconds, it had frozen solid.

  Freeze considered the fruits of his labor and nodded approvingly. It was just as he’d pictured it.

  In the midst of her private jungle, Poison Ivy sat on her bed of many-colored buds and drew Robin down beside her, until their faces were only a few small inches apart.

  “I’m glad you came,” she murmured. “I can’t breathe without you.”

  “I want us to be together,” the boy said earnestly, even. passionately. “But I need to know you’re serious about turning over a new leaf.”

  “You have my word,” she told him.

  “I need a sign.”

  “How about dangerous curves?” she suggested.

  “A sign of trust,” he said. “Tell me your plan.”

  Ivy smiled. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”

  “Tell me and I’ll kiss you,” Robin whispered.

  What could it hurt? she thought. He wasn’t going to live to tell about it anyway. “Freeze has turned the new telescope into a freezing gun. He’s going to turn Gotham City into an ice cube.”

  Robin recoiled. “I’ve got to stop him.”

  Ivy pulled him back. “One kiss, my love. For luck.”

  The boy hesitated for a moment—but only for a moment. Then he gave in to her charms.

  They kissed, eagerly and irrevocably.

  Then Ivy withdrew and stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “Bad luck, I’m afraid. It’s time to die, little bird.”

  Robin looked at her, obviously as confused as a little bird could be. “What do you mean?”

  “You should have heeded your pointy-eared pal,” she told him. “These lips of mine can be murder.”

  Understanding began to dawn on his flawless, young face. “Then . . . you never loved me?” he asked, with almost childish innocence.

  “Loved you?” she echoed, making it sound like the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard of. “I loathe you. I loathe your bipedal arrogance, your so-called animal superiority. My only joy is knowing that even now my poison kiss is sucking the life from your apelike face.”

  “I’ll resist saying I told you so,” said someone in the shadows—someone Ivy hadn’t noticed until now. The hairs rose on the back of her neck as she saw Batman move into the light.

  “You’re too late,” she spat. “Say bye-bye, Birdie.”

  Robin chuckled—not exactly the reaction she would’ve expected from a dying man. “Sorry to disappoint you,” he told her, “but rubber lips are immune to your charms.”

  With that, he peeled a thin rubber coating from his mouth. Ivy stared at it in dismay.

  “Robin and I found the cure to your evil spell,” Batman noted. “And that’s teamwork.”

  Ivy felt a red-hot fury building inside her. She let it out in a long, bloodcurdling scream. Then she shoved Robin into the lily pool beside them, where predatory vines reached out and enveloped him.

  Before Batman could come to his aid, she had other vines grab the Dark Knight by the ankles and wrench him upside down. Then her children began to squeeze the life out of Bat and Bird.

  “Sorry, boys,” she said, “but my vines have a little crush on you.” Then she leaped from lily pad to lily pad, headed for the exit. “Gotta run. So many people to kill, so little time.”

  But before she could get away, the skylight overhead seemed to implode, filling the room with moonlight—and a figure came flipping down from above. Judging by the long cape, the sleek eye mask, and the molded rubber, Ivy thought she was dealing with another Batman.

  Then she realized that wasn’t the case at all. This Batman was very definitely a woman.

  The feminine curves were a giveaway. And if Ivy still weren’t sure, a look at the thigh-length boots and heels would have convinced her.

  “Who are you?” the villainess asked.

  “I’m Batgirl,” the woman told her, her eyes hard and determined through the eye slits of her cowl. “And you’re about to become compost.”

  “Not likely,” Ivy replied.

  Nonetheless, the newcomer turned out to be a lot more formidable than she looked. She was strong, agile, and she had a command of the martial arts Pamela Isley could only have dreamed about.

  But Ivy had some tricks of her own—an entire jungle of them, in fact. With a gesture, she sent a mess of snakelike vines darting at her adversary. Unfortunately, the woman eluded them and landed a couple of hammerlike blows to Ivy’s jaw.

  The villainess staggered, dazed. Instantly, the jungle closed around her, protecting her from further punishment.

  “Using feminine wiles to get what you want,” the newcomer snapped. “Trading on your looks. Exploiting men’s weakness for sex. Read a book, sister. That passive-aggressive crap went out twenty years ago. Chicks like you give women a bad name.”

  Off to the side, Batman was slashing through the vines that held him captive, using something bat-shaped and razor-edged. And in the lily pond, Robin was struggling to free himself.

  It was only a matter of time before both of them succeeded. Ivy knew that. And she didn’t want to be here when it happened.

  Clenching
her jaw, she let Batgirl have it with every weapon in her arsenal. The intruder was assaulted with a barrage of nuts and berries, fruits and vegetables. It pushed her back, back, until she was slumped against the wall.

  Only when Ivy was satisfied all the fight had been taken out of her did she come forward and lord it over the newcomer. “As I told Lady Freeze when I pulled her plug, this is a one-woman show.”

  Suddenly, Batgirl was on her feet, not nearly as battered as she’d let on. “I don’t think so,” she said.

  Ignoring the effects of the barrage with which Ivy had hit her, Barbara grabbed Ivy’s hair and brought her knee up into Ivy’s face. The woman crumpled suddenly, bereft of consciousness.

  Taking a set of handcuffs from her Utility Belt, Barbara shackled the green woman. Then she saw something big and black drop from the ceiling and she whirled.

  It was Batman. Obviously, he’d cut himself free.

  A moment later, Robin emerged from the pool, dripping water all over the vegetation-covered floor. Like his partner, he had a distinct look of incredulity on his face.

  “And you are?” asked Batman.

  “Batgirl,” she said. It was the name she’d given Ivy without thinking.

  “That’s not very politically correct,” Robin told her. “How about Batwoman? Or Batperson?”

  Batman’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, he didn’t trust her. Even though she’d taken out Ivy, she was an unknown quantity.

  Frowning, she did the only thing she could do to earn his trust. She slipped off her cowl.

  “It’s me,” she said. “Barbara. I found the cave.”

  The two of them looked at her. Then they looked at each other.

  “We’ve gotta get those locks changed,” said Robin.

  “She knows who we are,” Batman pointed out.

  His sidekick nodded. “I guess we’ll have to kill her.”

  For a moment, Barbara was afraid they meant it. But they didn’t lift a hand against her. And Robin actually smiled.

  “Kill her later,” Batman said at last. “Right now, we’ve got work to do.”

  He and Robin made their way out of the baths. And Barbara—no, Batgirl—was right behind them.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Standing on the floor-level telescope platform at the Gotham Observatory, Freeze gripped the giant telescope, gazed into its viewfinder, and laughed at the sound of approaching sirens.

  “One Adam-twelve, one Adam-twelve, see the mad scientist with the freezing ray. Respond with caution if you know what’s good for you.”

  A squad of cruisers screamed up the avenue toward .the observatory, their bubble lights flashing. “I guess they don’t know what’s good for them,” said Freeze. “Cops on the rocks, anyone?”

  With that, he fired a giant blue beam of cryonic energy at the street below. Suddenly, the cop cars became skidding, screeching cubes of ice, smashing into each other—and ultimately exploding into pyres of raging flames.

  “Police are so hot-tempered these days,” Freeze remarked. He turned to glance at his muscle-bound accomplice. “Don’t you agree, Mr. Bane?”

  Bane didn’t answer. Nothing new there, thought Freeze.

  Then a distant flurry of activity caught his eye. He trained the telescope on it and took another look through the viewfinder.

  It was Batman, behind the wheel of a modified white Batmobile on rocket skis, blazing a trail over the frozen river. Also his pitiful companion, Robin, guiding a sleek, one-man iceboat over the ice.

  And a third person, also dressed in the cowl and cape of Batman. But this one was a woman, it seemed to him. And she was driving some kind of single-bladed, rocket-powered snowcycle.

  Very nice, Freeze mused. A regular Batforce. Obviously, Ivy had failed to unmask the crime fighters and keep her part of the bargain.

  “No matter,” he said out loud. “The Bat and the Bird are mine at last.” He shook a fist at Batman. “Watch as your beloved Gotham freezes,” he bellowed. “And prepare to die—because you’re next!”

  Pointing the telescope downtown, Freeze zeroed in on a particular street and fired. Then he observed the results through the viewfinder.

  He could still see folks walking their dogs, drinking canned beverages on stoops, kissing in the shadows of alley walls. He could still see mailboxes, lampposts, the pavement itself. Except now, it was all flash-frozen, encased in a thick, glistening coat of ice.

  Lovely, thought Freeze. Just lovely.

  Then he turned his weapon on his crime-fighting enemies again and spoke into his built-in radio hookup. After all, he was prepared for this eventuality. In fact, he’d looked forward to it.

  “The Bat-talion approaches,” he snarled. “Icemen—attack!”

  Down below, his drill truck burst through the mists that had accumulated by the riverbanks. Then it blasted down the frozen waterway on sharp, silver blades. Two pairs of Icemen hung from tail lines on skis, machine guns blazing like torches in the night.

  Freeze didn’t normally like heat very much. But in this case, he would make an exception.

  Batgirl saw Freeze’s truck coming at them from upriver. She turned to Batman for instructions.

  “Attack plan Alpha,” he said, speaking into his radio. Suddenly, he peeled off to the left.

  “Alpha,” Robin confirmed. “Roger.” He peeled right.

  “Alpha,” Batgirl repeated. “Got it.” Then she realized she was at a bit of a disadvantage. “What’s attack plan Alpha?”

  She heard a chuckle over the radio. “Divide and conquer,” Robin explained.

  He was veering downriver as he said it. A pair of Icemen noticed and swept out alongside the drill truck, heading toward Robin’s billowing craft with their guns firing.

  Batgirl wanted to help him. Unfortunately, she was about to have her hands full. A second pair of skiing Icemen were whipping around in her direction, their guns spitting bullets into the ice around her.

  And a set of rocket launchers, side-mounted onto the truck, were firing at Batman’s craft, blowing holes in the ice. It looked like each of them was on his or her own.

  Robin spared only a moment to watch Batman maneuver his vehicle through the Icemen’s barrage. Somehow, his mentor managed to swerve around the sudden, steaming holes in the icy river. Then, gunning his turbos, Batman headed straight for Freeze’s truck.

  At the same time, the two Icemen bearing down on Robin released their tethers and used their momentum to converge on his Batsled. They came straight at him, guns blazing.

  “Tack,” said Robin.

  Pulling on his tiller, he brought his craft sharply around—taking himself out of the path of the two skiers. The Icemen collided, then slid past him on the ice.

  Boy, he thought, as he left the skiers in his wake. I hope for Freeze’s sake he buys these guys by the dozen.

  Batgirl frowned. Freeze’s skiers were closing fast with her Batblade. Remembering Batman’s instructions, she hit a key and a status panel displayed a menu of her vehicle’s special functions.

  “Nice extras package,” Batgirl muttered, seeing it now for the first time.

  She thought for a moment, then selected a setting called “ice cutter.” Suddenly, the Batblade’s scythe peeled back, revealing a much sharper blade beneath it.

  Applying the same skills that won her all those motorcycle races, Batgirl spun and side-skidded, her blade sending a cascade of frozen ice into the faces of the oncoming Icemen. Unable to hang on to their tow ropes under the onslaught, the villains were driven backward in helpless somersaults across the surface of the frozen river.

  Batgirl had a new appreciation for her vehicle as she brought it out of its side skid. “Now, that’s what I call a close shave.”

  In the vehicle Robin had already nicknamed the Bathammer, Batman was shooting for the center of the frozen river, heading straight for Freeze’s truck. Its side guns blazed at him.

  Clenching his jaw, the Dark Knight hit a control stud—sending two torpedoes shootin
g out of the Bathammer’s chassis. They hit the frigid surface directly in front of Freeze’s truck and exploded, sending chunks of ice flying in every direction.

  The driver of the truck must have seen the hole in the ice created by the blast, but he was unable to swerve in time. The truck hit the steaming pool, tilted up nose first, and began to sink into the icy waters.

  As Batman whipped past the vehicle, he glanced out his window to assure himself that Freeze’s henchmen were able to crawl to safety. From the looks of things, they’d be fine.

  “Don’t sink and drive,” he breathed.

  Then he went on to his next objective—that being Gotham Observatory. As Freeze’s beams bathed the city, the Bathammer fired its turbos and closed in on the beams’ source.

  Freeze cursed. His Icemen had barely even slowed Batman down, and the crime fighter’s sidekicks were unscathed as well. He tilted the telescope down until he had them in his sights.

  “Not so fast,” he said. “Time you cooled your heels.”

  Then he fired.

  The freezing ray hit the frozen channel in front of the Bat-trio and created a wall of rock-hard ice, effectively blocking the river from one bank to the other. Freeze grunted with satisfaction.

  “Let them plow their way through that,” he grated.

  The words were barely out of his mouth before Batman’s vehicle went into some kind of overdrive and blew a hole right through the frozen barrier. Freeze flinched, as if he’d felt the impact himself.

  The other two Batvehicles negotiated the wall their own way—by shooting up the face of it and sailing over. They hit the ice on the other side without missing a beat and whipped in alongside the speeding Batman.

  Freeze cursed again, this time more volubly. His targets were too close to the observatory building now to be seen, much less fired at. He turned to a monitor, which showed him the Bat-team making its way up the giant cliffs at the tower’s base.

  He turned to his own sidekick. The giant in the leather mask stood by patiently, awaiting his orders as Poison Ivy had instructed.

  “Mr. Bane,” said Freeze, “I’ll finish off the city. You, as they say in show business, are on. Take the boys and kill those meddling kids.” He leaned closer to the muscle-bound Bane, so there would be no mistake. “But bring the Bat to me.”