ring might achieve more success?"
Under his mask, Green Lantern's eyes twinkled. Less than a year ago he had been an unknown, struggling artist. Now, he routinely rubbed shoulders with the greatest heroes on the planet. And his abilities were just as integral to the team's functioning as anyone else's.
Lantern rose to his feet, for a moment swaying under the Watchtower's artificial gravity, which was slightly less than that on Earth. He walked across to the huge electronic map of the planet that dominated one entire wall of the penthouse, and pointed his ring at it. The rest of the world disappeared in a twinkling of electronic lights, to be replaced by an expanded map of the United States.
A needle-thin beam of emerald light lanced from the ring, pointing in turn to each of the heroes' base cities: Gotham City, Metropolis, Keystone City, Boston, New York. A fine tracery of green appeared around each location, expanding and contracting as tendrils shot out seeking to establish connections.
Green Lantern shook his head in wonder, still awed by the power ring's abilities.
The others watched in silence as green lines quickly formed, joined up, split apart, and vanished again. Less than a minute later, a single image was frozen on the map. Lines joined each city to the others, with one finer line–barely noticeable compared with the others–leading back to a single location.
"According to the ring, we have our source." Lantern had turned his back on the map to face the others around the table. "Just outside Gotham City."
"Yes," Batman said emphatically. "It's the last place the five of us gathered together. Remember Gotham Dam?" He paused for a moment, ensuring that he had their attention. "If Lantern's ring is right–"
"And I've never known it to be wrong!" Green Lantern interrupted, grinning.
"The source of all last night's misfortunes is here," Batman finished, "in the stepped pyramid uncovered by the dam burst."
Dark clouds scudded across the night sky, blocking out the moon's light.
It was well after midnight, but the lights of the surveying teams working on the remains of the Gotham Dam still burned. The dam had provided water for most of western Gotham, and the electricity generated by its giant turbines brought heat and light to almost a million people. It needed to be up and running again as fast as possible.
A half mile away, the truncated pyramid was a black, undifferentiated mass protruding from the scoured valley side. Following Robert Mills's tragic death, and Peter Glaston's disappearance, the Gotham Police Department had closed off the entire site for forensic analysis. Though Commissioner Gordon himself had spearheaded the investigation, his inquiries led precisely nowhere.
All they could suppose was that Glaston had suffered some sort of mental breakdown, murdered his tutor, and then fled–taking Professor Mills's heart with him. A photograph and a description of Glaston had been sent to every police force in the state, but so far there hadn't been a single sighting.
In deference to Professor Mills, the university authorities had abruptly canceled all further excavation. The murder attracted the worst type of publicity they could get, and the university's president was worried that it might affect future funding levels. Better to withdraw from the public eye–for a while, at least. The pyramid was potentially the single most important find ever uncovered in North America, and it merited long and indepth study. The digging teams would return, but only when the furor had died away.
Now, the pyramid was deserted and lifeless, hardly even visible beneath the foreboding sky. Had anyone been watching, they'd have seen a flash of light from the flattened summit, ten times brighter than the cloud-obscured moon.
As the light from their teleportation device died away, the five Justice League heroes found themselves standing atop the pyramid. The Flash breathed a quiet sigh of relief; every time he used
Under his mask, Green Lantern's eyes twinkled. Less than a year ago he had been an unknown, struggling artist. Now, he routinely rubbed shoulders with the greatest heroes on the planet. And his abilities were just as integral to the team's functioning as anyone else's.
Lantern rose to his feet, for a moment swaying under the Watchtower's artificial gravity, which was slightly less than that on Earth. He walked across to the huge electronic map of the planet that dominated one entire wall of the penthouse, and pointed his ring at it. The rest of the world disappeared in a twinkling of electronic lights, to be replaced by an expanded map of the United States.
A needle-thin beam of emerald light lanced from the ring, pointing in turn to each of the heroes' base cities: Gotham City, Metropolis, Keystone City, Boston, New York. A fine tracery of green appeared around each location, expanding and contracting as tendrils shot out seeking to establish connections.
Green Lantern shook his head in wonder, still awed by the power ring's abilities.
The others watched in silence as green lines quickly formed, joined up, split apart, and vanished again. Less than a minute later, a single image was frozen on the map. Lines joined each city to the others, with one finer line–barely noticeable compared with the others–leading back to a single location.
"According to the ring, we have our source." Lantern had turned his back on the map to face the others around the table. "Just outside Gotham City."
"Yes," Batman said emphatically. "It's the last place the five of us gathered together. Remember Gotham Dam?" He paused for a moment, ensuring that he had their attention. "If Lantern's ring is right–"
"And I've never known it to be wrong!" Green Lantern interrupted, grinning.
"The source of all last night's misfortunes is here," Batman finished, "in the stepped pyramid uncovered by the dam burst."
Dark clouds scudded across the night sky, blocking out the moon's light.
It was well after midnight, but the lights of the surveying teams working on the remains of the Gotham Dam still burned. The dam had provided water for most of western Gotham, and the electricity generated by its giant turbines brought heat and light to almost a million people. It needed to be up and running again as fast as possible.
A half mile away, the truncated pyramid was a black, undifferentiated mass protruding from the scoured valley side. Following Robert Mills's tragic death, and Peter Glaston's disappearance, the Gotham Police Department had closed off the entire site for forensic analysis. Though Commissioner Gordon himself had spearheaded the investigation, his inquiries led precisely nowhere.
All they could suppose was that Glaston had suffered some sort of mental breakdown, murdered his tutor, and then fled–taking Professor Mills's heart with him. A photograph and a description of Glaston had been sent to every police force in the state, but so far there hadn't been a single sighting.
In deference to Professor Mills, the university authorities had abruptly canceled all further excavation. The murder attracted the worst type of publicity they could get, and the university's president was worried that it might affect future funding levels. Better to withdraw from the public eye–for a while, at least. The pyramid was potentially the single most important find ever uncovered in North America, and it merited long and indepth study. The digging teams would return, but only when the furor had died away.
Now, the pyramid was deserted and lifeless, hardly even visible beneath the foreboding sky. Had anyone been watching, they'd have seen a flash of light from the flattened summit, ten times brighter than the cloud-obscured moon.
As the light from their teleportation device died away, the five Justice League heroes found themselves standing atop the pyramid. The Flash breathed a quiet sigh of relief; every time he used
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