Teen Titans #46: "The Time That Shouldn't" Pt. 1

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Issue #46: ”The Time That Shouldn’t, Pt. 1”
Story by Jay McIntyre
Art by Jamie Rimmer
Edited by Brian Buchette[/center]


There's no point in living in an alternate reality .
Jessica Cutler

Mr. Lincoln, I have decided to accept your offer of command of the Union Army.
Robert E. Lee, in some otherwhen...




Beast Boy stood awkwardly before Troia, Terra a step behind him, smirking.

Troia raised an eyebrow.

Beast Boy hung his head.

Terra nudged him with her elbow. "Tell her."

"Well...um.....see, it's like this. When Terra joined us, you designed her new costume; with Raven's help, you designed Dagon's helmet; and when you became Troia, you designed a new costume for yourself...."

Troia raised her other eyebrow. "And?"

"And, uh, I was wondering if you'd design a new costume for me."

Troia blinked. "Oh, is that all?"

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not," Troia rolled her eyes.

Terra chuckled. "Toldja."

"But," Troia added, "Not this very second. Cyborg says our presence has been requested."




Twenty minutes later, Cyborg stood before the others in the TV room/lounge.

"STAR Labs has many different experiments going on, as you know," Cyborg said. "But in light of recent events...Flash's journey to another world, that time travel crisis, the Justice Society's little trip and what happened to Captain Marvel during it....STAR Labs is deciding to be more proactive in exploring these other realms, or alternate Earths. They will be opening a portal this afternoon, and have requested our attendance."

"Much as I enjoy a good Stargate or Sliders rerun," Beast Boy said, "What does that have to do with us?"

"Given the previous trans-dimensional events I mentioned," Cyborg said, "STAR Labs admits there might be a chance of something going wrong."

"So we're damage control," Troia said.

Cyborg nodded.

"I think we should go," Nightwing said, "But I'm willing to put it to a vote."

Everybody but Beast Boy and Kid Flash put their hands up.

"You two can stay behind if you want," Nightwing said to them.

Beast Boy shrugged. "I didn't say I wouldn't go."

Kid Flash shook his head. "I've been on the disabled list too long as it is."

"Good. Let's go then."



Beast Boy's reference to Stargate proved somewhat accurate.

The prototype multidimensional portal was in one of STAR's sub-basements; and it was a large, circular object. Unlike the aforementioned science fiction show, there were no hieroglyphs around the circumference; instead it was a solid ring of a silvery metal, and in the center floated a dull grey sphere.

"What's with the ball?" Beast Boy asked.

One of the STAR scientists, a graying fat man wearing old horn-rim glasses instead of getting contacts, turned to him and said, "Anti-gravity projection is of key importance to creating the trans-universal gateway."

Beast Boy stared at him a moment, then turned to Cyborg. "Translation?"

"I'll give you the Cliff's Notes later," Cyborg promised.

"I feel like I'm with the Doom Patrol again," Beast Boy said, holding his head in his hands.

"What's the safe distance radius?" Dagon asked, hanging back.

"Five feet," another scientist said. "Don't worry, we won't ask you to get that close unless something unpleasant comes through."

"You expect something will?" Starfire said.

"We don't know what to expect," the fat scientist said. "We're not entirely sure what universe we'll be connecting to. It may not even be Earth at all. One of the design features of the portal is to let us see the other universe first, so we know whether or not we can step through. In addition to various scanners, of course."

"Taking every precaution," Cyborg said, and Nightwing nodded approvingly.

"We'll be ready to begin in a few moments," the fat scientist said.



Terra quickly became bored. Beast Boy wasn't much better. When Kid Flash sat down and joined them, Nightwing felt a vague annoyance.

"We're supposed to be professionals here," he said.

Terra stuck her tongue out.

"When something requiring professional attention happens," Kid Flash answered, "Let us know."

Nightwing sighed and shook his head.

"Ease outta Batman mode there, chief," Beast Boy advised him.

Nightwing opened his mouth to answer, when unexpectedly; Starfire was there, putting a finger across his lips. "They're right," she said.

He blinked at her, puzzled.

"It's time to be Nightwing again, lover," she said. "To be the daredevil adventurer, and enjoy the fun our life has to offer."

He nodded. "Oh yes, I just want them to be...."

"Professional?" she suggested. "I know all about warrior's code of honor in battle. There is no battle here, at least not yet. And if it comes, we'll be ready. Even Beast Boy does what needs to be done in battle. Until then...."

"Right," he hugged her. "You're right."

Troia and Raven stood closest to the portal, side by side, eying it thoughtfully.

"Are you sensing anything from it?" Troia asked.

Raven shook her head. "The gateway has not been opened, yet. Once it is, then we shall see. I do feel, however, that we were right to come here. This is important. Gateways to other realms always are."

"We're ready!" One of the scientists called.

"Formation 2-B," Nightwing called to the others, and they arrayed themselves around the portal.

A deep, tolling bell sounded. For all the world it reminded Raven of a church bell, if a church bell had been submerged in water. She didn't like the feeling. Not at all.

A scientist braced himself against a control bank. "Opening in 5...4...3...2...1...."

The gray ball turned crystal clear, and around it a silver-brown vortex formed, giving the impression of a tunnel, reaching out to who knew where.

Terra swore, Starfire gasped, Dagon murmured, Troia whispered something. All the sounds were distant, echoing and distorted.

"Everyone back," Raven said as clearly as she could. "A wider perimeter than the scientists wanted." Her words, too, echoed and faded away.

But the others heard well enough. Nightwing waved everyone back, nodding. Even those scientists not at the controls stepped back.

"Keep it open for another 60 seconds," the fat scientist said. "Then shut it down."

"60 seconds, mark," another confirmed.

The tunnel/vortex remained as it was, but through the sphere they could now see things. Other realms, presumably.....

They saw Timothy Drake as Robin, fighting a man that could only be Ra's Al Ghul...Starfire's homeworld restored to glittering perfection....Terra with a different jacket, talking to a Green Lantern in a strange outfit. Next to him was a woman with silver flesh and a black costume...Trigon dead, a silver blade rammed into his chest, a knight in silver armor standing triumphant over him....a blasted wasteland, a man wearing black being chased by a gunslinger....a world in which Circe was a hero, guarding a shining city of Atlantis as it's sorceress supreme....a dark city under a terrible thunderstorm....the world Flash and the Justice Society had visited previously, which most agreed was the world "next door"...then a world much like their own, but with a completely different set of heroes and costumed history.....then a world where Superman was a blonde movie star....then a group of five teens, so clearly an alternate group of Titans as to make their hearts ache. Those kids seemed to look back....then a world ruled over by a mad, muscular redhead wearing a cloak not unlike Troia's current starfield costume.....a world in which Robin was a girl.....

Then the sphere flashed white, and the vortex turned red, and appeared to be moving faster.

"Shut it down!" Raven shouted, whirling to face the scientists. "Shut it down now!"

"Massive feedback; emergency shutdown," the fat scientist agreed. Then he frowned. "Controls not responding!"

"Disconnect the power!" another shouted.

"Which cables?!" Kid Flash yelled.

"Those two!" the fat scientist pointed, and within a hundredth of a second, Kid Flash had pulled the plugs.

All the lights went out, but still the portal glowed.

Then it erupted in light, light that filled the room.

Starfire screamed and Terra swore as the light engulfed them. Kid Flash tried to run towards the portal, but that simply meant the light absorbed him faster.

The light filled the STAR Labs building complex.

Then New York City.

Then the entire planet....

Then their Universe...

An entire thread of the multiverse--their thread--was changed....




The light faded......but the STAR Labs basement portal was gone. The scientists were gone. The Titans were gone.

In their place was a medium sized underground room, a cross between a scientist's laboratory and a rich man's den. Laboratory equipment and computers on one side; chairs, bookcases, and a roaring fireplace on the other.

Professor Samuel Wilson shifted uncomfortably in his chair. That had been the greatest disturbance yet. They had been gradually increasing for weeks now, and as yet, for all his brilliance, he had been unable to find a solution.

He turned to the computer monitor on his left, tapped at the keyboard, and frowned at the results. This time the disruption had actually left the multiversal continuum and washed out into the real world. His eyes widened. Residue? Was he reading that right? The possibility, at least, of a physical manifestation?

He reached to the site of the central computer station and activated an intercom. "Joseph, Miss Levine, please come here. I do believe I have a mission for the two of you."

They did not answer in words, nor did he expect them to. They would come before him obediently, then do their duty. Both of them were quite bright, Joseph especially; but they knew when to speak and when not to.

Wilson sat back in his chair. Yes, since the days when his great-grandfather had perfected steam-powered technology, the Wilson clan had grown in wisdom, prosperity, and power. Their children and charges had always known their places. During the Great War in the 1920s and early 30s, it had been his family that had coordinated with both the government and the earliest 'mystery men' to lead Council forces to victory against the Mad Butcher of Saxony. As the costumed community had grown, the Wilson’s had always kept a hand in, with their own small group. But unlike other costumes, the Wilson’s used no codenames, and the advancement of science was their primary goal.

Joseph, his younger (and wiser) son, and Miss Levine, who they had taken in as a child, entered his combined laboratory and study at that moment, coming from down the stairs. Wilson tapped three buttons on his computer. A hot, steady puff of steam rose from it's ventilator, and in it an image formed.

"There, on the sea bed, children; it seems a physical manifestation of the disruptions has been left behind. Take the second submersible; it should suit your needs, with appropriate swimming gear, of course."

"Yes father," Joseph said in his soft, clear voice. Carrie just smiled and bowed. In that one it was more than knowing one's place or dedication to duty; Carrie was sweet-natured to the point of shyness.

Wilson sat back, smiling, knowing they would not disappoint him.



ROLL CALL:

Professor Samuel Wilson, Greatest Scientist of the modern age!
Grant Wilson, stronger than ten men and faster than the finest Olympic Sprinter!
Joseph Wilson, able to vanish into thin air and heal the wounds of others!
Lillith Clay, psychic extraordinaire!
Carrie Levine, who flies on scarlet-feathered wings, and whose amazing flight and agility is complemented by the martial arts!




((Professor,)) Lillith's voice echoed through his mind.

Irritably, he stabbed the intercom again. "Save the telepathy for emergencies, Miss Clay. What is it?"

"Representatives of Checkmate, sir," Lillith answered, in a respectful but disappointed tone that let him know she had been trying to give him an advantage.

"Ah," he put a note of apology into his voice, realizing his own breach of etiquette. The rules of decorum cut both ways; reciprocity was an important principle in itself. "Have Grant show them down, would you?"

"Yes, sir."

The Checkmate Agents trooped down the stairs. A man and a woman, their blue and gold armor nevertheless made them look alike. Their visored helms hid all but their eyes. Samuel's lip curled in distaste. His older, yet less promising son Grant came in behind them, eyes focused on his father. Wilson raised a hand as if in greeting to the agents, but Grant rightly read it as 'stand guard'.

"I'm Agent Kane," said the female agent. "This is Agent Forrester."

"Charming," Samuel murmured.

"Checkmate would like to know the details of your multidimensional experiments. The organization is very concerned, especially given what our own physicists are telling us."

"And besides which, if I fail to cooperate, you'll send your 'suicide' squads of metahuman convicts to shut me down?" Samuel's tone was pleasant, but his expression wasn't. "Unless you came to take care of that particular matter yourselves." He waved it all away before the agents could respond. "I already spoke to the President about this on the phone. I have not performed any experiments at all; I have merely done what your own scientists have done; monitored the disturbances in the continuum. Your scientists are more than welcome to study my data. I have yet to launch any probes, or make any excursions of any kind, precisely because of those disturbances. There does seem to be a mundane manifestation, however; Joseph and Miss Levine are out searching for it. It may be the key to the entire matter."

"You've found the source of the disturbances?" Agent Kane said, before her partner could lose his temper.

"Hopefully. Waves of distortion seem to be coming from the sea floor, not far from here. It could be the source of the disruptions, or merely a focus for them. We shall see."

"You will understand, then," Forrester put in, "If we stick around to find out."

The Professor shrugged unhappily. "If it gets your paymasters off my back, so much the better."

"Not just paymasters," Kane corrected him gently. "Checkmate is concerned with the safety of America, the world, and in this case, it seems, perhaps our entire Universe."

"Not just our Universe," Wilson corrected her in turn, "But the entire fabric of the Multiverse itself, of which our Universe is but one small part. And, with all due respect, Agent Kane, spare me your propaganda. Your masters are concerned with their own power, nothing more."

Agent Forrester took a step forward. Before his partner could wave him back, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around the Checkmate Agent.

"Don't," said a voice, young get grimly assured. "Don't even think about it."

"Thank you Grant," the Professor sighed, "But let him go now. We don't want to escalate the situation."

"That's right, you don't," Kane snapped. Then she tried for a more conciliatory tone as Grant released Forrester. "We should all be on the same side here."

"Wrong again, Agent Kane. It's not about sides. It's about the truth. And finding the truth is my business."

"The truth is, your brat better not touch me again," Forrester seethed.

"Don't give me reason to, stooge," Grant snapped back.

"Enough!" Wilson shouted. "I expect better of you, Grant!"

"Goes for you too, sparky," Kane warned Forrester.

Forrester's glare was visible even through his visor, but he kept quiet.

"Sparky?" Wilson echoed. "What an....interesting choice of moniker."

Grant smirked, and Kane chuckled; the tension eased somewhat.

Wilson turned to his monitors. "Joseph and Miss Levine should arrive at target in less than five minutes."



To Professor Wilson, it was merely 'the second submersible,' or on more formal occasions, 'Submersible 2.' But Joseph and Grant liked to name the vessels, as their grandfather Wade had done; Joseph has christened this vessel the Occam's Razor. It was a fine, sleek vessel, in gold and silver. Not that such color could be properly seen this deep in the ocean, of course.

Joseph loved his father dearly, but he also knew that he was far too tough on Grant. Grant simply hadn't inherited the family's fine intellect, and what was more, he knew it. He was more of a traditional 'mystery man,' right down to the powers. Joseph understood this, and accepted his brother for who he was. Grant was grateful for this, and was not jealous of Joseph being the favored son.

Joseph had an entirely different problem, personally. The world had moved on from the days when steam power had been invented, including the morality department. Father's rules of conduct on relations between the genders....strained Joseph more than slightly.

Carrie was no help, shy as she was.

As long as father was alive, neither he nor his brother--or either of the girls, come to that--would be free to be themselves.

He put such thoughts away as father came over the ship radio. "Are you there yet, Joseph?"

"Nearly," he said. "It's maybe forty feet below us, according to the instruments."

"Perhaps, not maybe," Father corrected him, but gently so; Joseph could hear the smile in his voice. "And the readings should be more precise."

They weren't, but Joseph didn't waste any time trying to explain that. Arguing with father was more than fruitless; it was almost unthinkable. "Thirty-five feet....thirty....seems to be some sort of luminescence......"

Below them the dark waters improbably began to brighten, first an ill-favored shade of green, then a sickly shade of yellow.

Then they saw it, and Carrie actually gasped.

"Oh my..." Joseph said.

"What is it, son?" Father's voice asked over the radio.

"A perfectly formed gem, father," Joseph said, wondering. "Glowing from within, an unpleasant shade of yellow. Possibly that is the distortion energy itself."

"Don't presume on insufficient data. All recording devices active."

"Already activated, father," Joseph assured him. Anticipating his next command, he added, "We will, of course, use the greatest care in bringing it on board, and will not touch it ourselves."

"Security is paramount," his father agreed.

"Activating the manipulator arms," Carrie said.

The pistoned claws reached for the obscene gem, wavering in the water, and for a moment Joseph was worried that they might not be able to hold the thing...or worse yet, break it open and unleash the energy within.

But the arms grasped the gem with no difficulty. "It's lightweight," Carrie said with some surprise.

Then both of them paused. It seemed to them, for a moment, in the depths of the sea lit by the gem's sullen sulphur glow, that they could see a mystery man in a black costume with blue highlighting, and a woman with orange skin and hair like fire, with eyes like glowing emeralds, dressed in revealing clothes that yet also seemed like armor. They were there for a moment only....then vanished into the void.

"Did you see that?" Joseph asked.

"Yes," Carrie breathed.

"What is it?" Father asked, concerned.

"A hallucination, father. Caused by the gem in each of us, as form of defense, I hypothesize. But it has already faded."

"I need to install visualization engines in all our craft," Father groused over the connection. "But clearly it is even more dangerous than we thought. Put it in the radioactive materials container."

"Yes, father." Joseph agreed; he was shaken. Those people had looked terrified and helpless and....lost.

He turned and looked at Carrie, and saw fear and sadness in her own eyes.

Shaken, he looked away.



Perhaps because they had been so shaken, Joseph brought the submersible back to the surface, rather than staying underwater for the return home. There was nothing specific in father's rules forbidding this; but had he been there, he would have warned against it, recognizing it for the tactical error that it was.

Carrie was relieved to see the sunlight through the main view-port as he was, if not more so. But their joy was short lived.

The ship was rocked as it was struck; Joseph was hard-pressed to hang on to the controls. Carrie went tumbling, but her innate agility brought her back to her feet almost immediately.

"Come out and play, kids!" a nasty voice called, cheerfully. "If you dive, I'll boil the sea around you and cook you like you were in a Dutch Oven pot. A fitting application of steam power, eh?!?" The voice dissolved into cackling laughter.

"It's Incendiary," Joseph said into the communicator. "Probably has some Allegiance soldiers with her as well."

There was cursing over the radio waves, clearly not father's voice. But then he was there again. "Our Checkmate guests are none too pleased with that information, and neither am I. We have your position; play for time until we can reach you."

"Understood," Joseph said, then switched to speaker mode. "We're coming out!"

"Wise of you, brat number two," Incendiary's voice said. "Not hiding behind big brother today?"

Joseph didn't bother to answer, and Carrie was already climbing up, wings folded so she could fit through the opening.



The top hatch popped open; Carrie and Joseph climbed out.

Incendiary floated above them, her black hair flowing in the breeze, her red and orange costume echoing her powers, the black symbol of the Allegiance on her belt buckle. Her eyes burned both with her pyrokinetic powers and with pitiless hate; even now, one clenched fist roiled with the flame that was hers to command.

Behind her were half a dozen Allegiance soldiers, wielding their trident-shaped weapons that were deadly both in melee and as ranged energy blasters. Each of them wore a belt buckle in black, as Incendiary did, the atomic-powered platforms each one rode as much as symbol of the Allegiance's obsession with nuclear energy as the dark sigul of the organization itself.

"Just the two of you?" Incendiary frowned suspiciously. "Not only no big bro, but not even the psychic?"

"If Miss Clay was with us," Joseph said wearily, "We would have been able to anticipate you, and remained underwater."

"I'm sure you wish you had," the villainess agreed, chuckling. "Why use her real name though? Haven't any of you idiots ever heard of a code name?"

Carrie had had enough. Her normal shy reservation faded when confronted with this particular enemy. She flapped her wings and flew up to meet the pyromaniac foe. "Ah, but we know your real name, don't we Incendiary? It's Donna. Donna Troy."

Incendiary's somewhat playful attitude vanished. "NEVER CALL ME THAT!" she shrieked, and threw a fireball right at Carrie's face....

To Be Continued![/i]