Issue 9: "Armageddon Aria"

Diana soared high over the sparkling waters of the Atlantic Ocean, basking in the rays of the sun.

She had needed to get away from her duties on Themyscira, if only for a few moments. The war was over, but life on Paradise Island would never again be the same. The Spawn of Uranus were still at large in great numbers, albeit disorganized and leaderless; Doom’s Doorway was still open, and the Bronze Gates had been fortified against the Amazons, despite the best efforts of General Phillipus to retake the position. Thousands of her sisters were dead and Themyscira itself was badly damaged. Crews worked day and night to shore up the walls, tested frequently by sorties from the spawn. Prince Hippolytus rode out tirelessly in raids against the spawn, but the enemy had become expert at melting into the forest, crawling into caves and under hills. The Lost Amazons of Antiope were adjusting to life on Paradise Island after thousands of years of exile, but it was not easy.

And then there was the problem of the succession…

Diana’s mother, Queen Hippolyta had fallen in the war, and her people were clamoring for Diana to take the crown that was rightfully hers…

Except the Amazons who insisted that the right of succession belonged to the elder line of Antiope, and her heir, Diana’s cousin, Prince Hippolytus…

The issue had been hotly debated. If the Amazon’s had never been sundered, argued Zenobia, Captain of the Lost Amazon fleet, the crown without question would have gone to the elder sister’s eldest child--- her son Hippolytus. Yet the sundering had occurred, argued back Penelope, High Priestess of the Themyscirans, and the two peoples had taken very different paths. Whereas Antiope’s folk had devoted themselves to the arts of war and a devotion to Ares, Hippolyta’s had embraced peace and isolation.

And while the Themyscirans outnumbered the Lost Tribe, the war had thinned their numbers much--- indeed, that final battle would not have been won if not for the intervention of Antiope’s folk. And was not Paradise Island home and the legacy of all Amazons, not just the followers of Hippolyta…?

To both their credit, both Diana and Hippolytus held themselves aloof from the debate, choosing instead to help with the rebuilding of the city or to sally out hunting spawn. But their absence only gave their partisans license to argue in their names. It was one such session that Diana had wandered into, looking for Phillipus after bringing home safely a scouting expedition to the Isle of Healing.

“If we are to be excluded from consideration, then perhaps our folk should build our own city on the other side of the island!” Zenobia raked the Amazon council with her withering stare, her red robe flaring as she whirled about the chamber.

Penelope seemed to flinch at these harsh words, and calmly motioned for the riled General Phillipus to settle down.

“Zenobia, please!” The High Priestess exhorted the dark-skinned Amazon. “Surely, we can avoid such desperate measures… Besides, the threat of the spawn---.”

Zenobia made a slashing motion with her hand, her lips curling. “Bah! We will build our city right on top of Doom’s Doorway! Neither I nor my sisters--- nor our beloved Prince!--- fear the spawn that ravage this fair island. We will face their menace, if the folk of Hippolyta have not the stomach for it!”

Phillipus actually made a move forward now, but Diana chose this moment to announce her presence.

“Sisters!” Her boots echoed loudly on the stone floor, and she graced them all with a calm smile. “What is all this talk of separation so soon after finding each other again?” All eyes turned to her sudden entrance, and even Zenobia inclined her head respectfully. “Surely we can find a way to work out our differences…? This kind of civil strife is why we left Man’s World in the first place…”

“With all due respect, Princess,” Zenobia said. “Only Hippolyta’s folk deem it Man’s World. My folk never surrendered it to them. We stayed and fought for our place in it.”

Before this insult had time to sink in, a man’s voice rang out in the council chamber.

“Aye, but we are here, now.”

Hippolytus emerged into the chamber, outwardly as calm as Diana, but his violet eyes--- so much like Diana’s own!--- flashing. He was covered in dust and blood, none of it his own. He had been out hunting spawn, and Diana couldn’t help but admire the Heraclean figure he cut. “And it would be rude of us to spurn the gracious hospitality of the Themycirans.”

Chastened, Zenobia took a step backward. “Yes, my prince.”

Hippolytus entered the council chamber, every inch the monarch Zenobia wanted to make of him, moving with panther-like grace. He greeted his cousin respectfully, with a rueful shrug as if to say all of these concerns were beneath such as he and she.

“As my cousin said, surely there must be a way to build a bridge between our two peoples, and to resolve this problem…”

The question hung there a moment, and even Zenobia was silent. Hippolytus glanced about, smiling patiently.

It was Penelope who took up the question, clearing her throat with a reluctant, timid sound.

“Indeed, my lord Hippolytus, there is a simple solution to our problem.” She told them, glancing hesitantly at Diana.

Of course, the nimble-minded High Priestess would have seen this answer, though Diana herself avoided considering it.

“The easiest and best way to reunite the folk of Hippolyta and Antiope is to unite their heirs.” Penelope said, eyes on the ground. “Let Princess Diana and Prince Hippolytus be wed and rule Paradise Island as King and Queen of the Amazons.”

A gasp rose up from those assembled, as if from one throat. Even Zenobia seemed taken aback. Hippolytus had the grace to look uncomfortable, while Diana grew stony-faced and cold--- though her cheeks felt aflame.

It was then that she hastily excused herself and took to the skies for a much needed respite.

She allowed the winds of Aolus and Zephyr to carry her aloft, higher and higher, rejoicing in the warmth of Apollo’s sun on her upturned face.

She had no desire to shirk her duty--- she would ever and always honor the memory and example of her mother!--- but the problem was knowing where her greatest duty lie. True, she was her mother’s heir and the mantle of leadership fell to her; but was she also not Wonder Woman, chosen to bring the ideals of Peace and Truth to Patriarch’s World, where it was needed more than ever? In fact, Diana considered her mission to the wider world of paramount importance. After all, Paradise Island no longer existed in isolation, and Patriarch’s World needed Wonder Woman more than ever before. Diana’s own mother had seen that clearly when she herself had donned the tiara during WWII. Could she be queen and Wonder Woman? Hippolyta had been, but then Paradise Island was at peace. Times were more complex and perilous now…

Then there was Hippolytus.

She had, of course, seen the wisdom in Penelope’s proposal--- had foreseen it, in fact. Their marriage would indeed unite the Amazons and make Themyscira stronger. But yet it did not seem right to Diana. Amazons they might be, but the folk of Antiope were devoted to the arts of Ares, and Hippolytus their chief practitioner. Nor did it seem right that a man should sit in dominion over the Amazons of Paradise Island, no matter what his pedigree.

And, Diana admitted to herself, the idea of marriage frightened her. She, who had faced down gods and monsters and super villains, imagined with extreme trepidation just exactly what a marriage to the virile Hippolytus would mean. She had little enough experience with men, even in Man’s World, and now was she expected to be wife to one?

Or a mother?

Unready to face either of those thoughts, she cleared her mind, and swooped low over the city, surprised to find herself very near the quarters of Steve Trevor. She could see him on the terrace, waving to her.

“Hola, Steve!” She greeted him with more gusto than she had intended, alighting on his balcony and falling into a warm embrace. She sighed, even as Steve, perplexed, returned her hug.

“Hello, Angel.” He chuckled, as she pulled away, looking slightly embarrassed. “Long day?”

“Politics have come to Paradise Island.” She explained. “As if we didn’t have enough problems.”

“Well, I hate to do this to you, then,” Steve grimaced, leading her to the open laptop computer on the terrace table. “But we have more problems back home. Thanks to the techies on the Stiletto, I was able to get my laptop working. I got an email from the State Department today; they’re sending an aid package, which is good news, but there is also an urgent request from President Lord for you to go back to America to deal with something he calls the Godfrey problem…?”

Something like relief flooded onto Diana’s face. “Ah. He’s a fire-and-brimstone preacher protesting the Amazon Mission to Patriarch’s World.” A wry smile touched her lips. “I’ve had to deal with him before [Editor’s Note: Way back in WW#1!]; He thinks all Amazons cavort to the lutes of satyrs and drink wine all day…”

Steve gasped, in mock astonishment. “Suffering Sappho!”

“More or less.” She agreed, good-naturedly. Then she turned serious again, a shadow darkening her face. “He warps my words and my message. He thinks somehow that my message invalidates all others, and cannot exist side by side with what he holds to be true. That the Amazon ideals of Peace and Truth are somehow a threat to his way of life…” She shook her head. “He had quite the following, too. There’s no telling how much damage he’s done to our cause. I shouldn’t have left him to his own devices this long as it is…”

“It couldn’t be helped. But you can be spared now, at least for a little while. And you could definitely use a break from Paradise Island.” Steve added gently.

And with that, Diana had to agree…

Faraday pushed the Eyes Only Classified report back across his desk to Col. Steve Trevor, shaking his head.

“That’s quite the tale, Colonel.” The director breathed, fixing his operative with a dubious eye. “If it were anyone else, I’d---.”

The two men were interrupted by an aide poking his head into the office, looking excited.

“Sir! There’s something on TV you should see…”

Faraday turned on the TV in his office, and Steve Trevor sucked in a breath at the scene. The Themyscira Embassy in Manhattan…

“She’s a new one.” Faraday commented dryly as he and Trevor stared at the screen in his office.

Steve all but ignored the director, concentrating on the small screen and the pile of rubble that had buried Wonder Woman.

“C’mon, Angel, get up…!”

Below them, on the street where Themyscira House had once stood, Godfrey still commanded the TV cameras.

“Behold!” He pointed his finger to the sky. “The Avenging Angel has come to deliver the wrath of the Most High! See how she persecutes the Amazonian whores, bringing blood and death to the iniquitous! See how their mission lay in ruin!

Sirens of emergency rescue vehicles could already be heard, but nothing could drown out Godfrey’s passionate tirade.

“Today, the pagan princess pays for her sins! Today, her blood will fall from the sky, and the world will tremble at the judgement of the Most High!”

Maxwell Lord careful sized up his putt, drew back his arm a little… then just tapped the ball. It rolled across the carpet of the Oval Office, just missing the cup.

“Sir!”

An aide burst in on him, and the president refrained sharply from hurling his golf club out the window into the Rose Garden.

He cleared his throat, and said as steadily as he could: “What is it, Jenkins?”

“There’s an egghead from Ivy University on the phone for you. Dr. Raymond Palmer. His credentials check out, and the National Science Advisor advises that you listen to him…”

The president picked up the phone.

“Mr. President! I’m sorry, sir, but we have no time for pleasantries. My instruments have just detected a massive electromagnetic build-up just inside Earth orbit. The readings are off the scale, and have already begun frying the circuitry of every man-made satellite between here and the moon.”

An aide with a receiver in his ear nodded a quick confirmation. “It’s true, sir. We just lost everything. And I’m told that we are seconds away from losing radio and TV signals as well…”

“What the hell is it, Dr. Palmer?” The president growled into the phone.

The professor’s voice came back after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t know, Mr. President. But those particles are not acting the way they should be, and seem to be drawn to a gravity well that just isn’t there---.”

“In English, Dr. Palmer!”

“As crazy and as impossible as it sounds,” Said Ray Palmer. “If I had to guess, I would say that something big is about to 'warp' into earthspace!”

“He comes!” Crowed Godfrey, arms aloft and his hair whipping in the wind howling down from the suddenly turbulent skies.

Steve and King Faraday stared at the TV screen, as the reception flickered and crackled. But the scene outside their own window was little different.

“What the hell is---.”

“Shhh!” Steve waved at him. He had seen Diana go down again, and she had not yet gotten back up. And Godfrey was raving again.

“The Hour of His coming is at last at hand! Look upon His works, ye mortals, and despair! Behold the coming of Apokolips…!”

Then the screen went black.