“You did not retrieve the orichalcum,” Pryll said when Supergirl entered his cell. A new water-filled tank had replaced the broken one, but he was pacing the room instead of swimming.
“Do I look that guilty?” She sauntered over to him, hands clasped in front of her. “We’re still working on it,” she promised. “Some new enemies caught us by surprise.”
Pryll frowned and stopped his pacing. “You should have let me assist. It is my duty.”
Supergirl nodded. “To guard the treasures of Atlantis. I know.” She remembered Dr. Wanabi’s comment about the empty-looking city. “But you can’t be the only one down there. Where are the other Atlanteans?” she finally asked.
Pryll stared at Supergirl for a moment and then lifted his chin. “I am charged with guarding the city’s treasure, not its inhabitants. Where they are is not my concern.”
“What about your family?” Supergirl tried again.
Pryll clenched his jaw but said nothing.
It was time for a different approach.
“I don’t know if you knew this about me, but I’m an alien,” said Supergirl. She settled on the floor and leaned back against Pryll’s tank. “From a galaxy far, far away.”
Pryll glanced down at her. “Where is your family?”
“Dead.” She sighed. “The whole planet was destroyed.”
Pryll crouched beside her. “I am sorry for you. How did you escape?”
“My parents sent me in a spaceship to follow my cousin here.”
“Ah. So you have one family member at least,” said Pryll. He gazed at the floor. “I watched my wife, Eleni, die during Atlantis’s destruction. And my son, Jerro, who was patrolling our borders, never came home.”
“Then I am sorry for you as well,” said Supergirl.
“Atlantis is all I have left,” Pryll continued. “Without it, my life has no purpose.”
Supergirl gave him a small smile. “We’ll get the orichalcum back. We’ve got everyone looking for it.”
Pryll leaned forward, wide-eyed. “Everyone in your city? I am touched they would do this.”
“Not everyone in the city,” Supergirl said with a chuckle. “Everyone at the DEO!”
She stopped laughing as an idea struck her. “Wait a minute. Why not everyone in the city? Pryll, that’s brilliant!” Supergirl scrambled to her feet. “I’ll be back later.”
“Supergirl!” Pryll called after her, but she’d already opened the door and zipped down the hall.
She skidded to a stop outside the infirmary. Mon-El was talking to James, who’d finally regained full consciousness.
“You’re awake!” Supergirl approached James’s cot. “How do you feel?”
James and Mon-El both jumped at her presence, and James smiled weakly.
“Like I just lost a tag team boxing match against Muhammed Ali, Mike Tyson, and, well, you,” said James. “But I’m getting back to normal, slowly.”
Supergirl glanced at Mon-El, who appeared stone-faced.
“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” she asked.
“Nope!” Mon-El forced a smile. “Just filling him in on what happened with Dr. Wanabi.”
Supergirl put a hand on James’s shoulder. “Thanks for finding him. We’ve got him working with Alex on an antidote to the orichalcum.”
“That’s what I hear,” said James, glancing at Mon-El.
Supergirl wrung her hands together and winced. “And I know you’ve just been through a near-death experience, but I have a favor to ask. A CatCo-related favor.”
James raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Tons of people reacted to my message about the supercitizens.” She looked from James to Mon-El. “What if we could get that many people to react to a different message?”
“What do you mean?” asked Mon-El.
“Right now, we’ve got a building full of people looking for the evil supercitizens and the orichalcum,” said Supergirl, gesturing around her. “But we could have all of National City looking. No confrontations, just information.”
James leaned on one elbow. “A citywide stakeout? That’s not a bad idea.”
Mon-El raised a hand. “OK, but if someone has information, how do they let you know? Shine a light in the sky?”
Supergirl snickered. “That seems like overkill. They can just use the phone. We’ll set up a hotline here at the DEO.”
“Sounds like you’ve got this all figured out,” said James. “So what do you need me for?”
Supergirl’s cheeks warmed and she ducked her head. “Could you, um, record the message? I don’t think anybody wants to hear from Supergirl right now.”
James grinned and nodded. “Of course. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll go with you to the office.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, if we hurry, we could also post something in the evening issue of the Tribune.”
The mention of the newspaper triggered a memory in Supergirl’s mind. Snapper had written an op-ed piece for the Tribune—something that might explain why the mayor was upset. A visit to the Tribune’s floor at CatCo would be the perfect chance to check its archives.
“Great!” said Supergirl. “Meet me in the control room. I’m going to tell J’onn and Winn our idea.”
She practically skipped down the hallway. Things were finally starting to come together.
“Kara!” Mon-El trotted after her. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Of course.” She stopped to face him. “Is everything OK? You looked upset earlier.”
“I’m fine,” he said, waving away her concern. “I was just thinking . . .” He chewed his lip and smiled. “You know what? Never mind.”
“Mon-El.” Supergirl grabbed his hand. “What is it?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s about that antidote Dr. Wanabi and Alex are working on. I think we should let people choose whether or not to take it.”
Supergirl let go of Mon-El. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear him say. “But if people don’t take the antidote, the orichalcum will keep making them sick.”
“Yeah, but maybe people are OK with being sick if it means they get to keep their powers,” he said with a shrug.
Supergirl wrinkled her forehead. “But we don’t know if they get to keep their powers. We do know even trace amounts of orichalcum can be dangerous.” She pointed down the hall to the infirmary.
“But not too dangerous, right?” asked Mon-El. “I mean, look at me. I’m fine.”
Supergirl smirked at him. “You’re also from a different planet and draw healing power from the sun.”
“And James is doing better, too,” Mon-El pointed out.
“I suppose,” Supergirl said with a frown. “Are you bringing this up for the supercitizens . . . or for you?”
“Huh?” Mon-El blinked at her. “For them, of course. I couldn’t care less.”
But his eyes averted her gaze for a fraction of a second, and she heard an echo of his voice.
This is important to me, Kara.
Supergirl sighed. “Mon-El, we can’t say it’s OK for you to keep your new power but expect everyone else to give theirs up.”
He shook his head. “I’m not saying that, Kara. I’m saying we should give people a choice.”
“When one of those choices is to intentionally hurt themselves?” Supergirl crossed her arms. “Not on my watch.”
Mon-El pressed his lips together and breathed through his nostrils. “You know, you’ve been making a lot of decisions for other people the last few days.”
“Because they can’t make good decisions for themselves!” Supergirl threw her hands in the air. “And now you’re trying to put them in danger so you can keep your new power, which is even worse.”
“So I’m the bad guy now?” Mon-El gave a mirthless chuckle. “Wow. I’d expect that kind of attitude from one of my people, but from you?” He turned on his heel and walked away.
“Mon-El!” Supergirl clenched her fists at her sides, but didn’t go after him. He was obviously standing as firm on the issue as she was, and she had other things to worry about.
But she couldn’t deny that it stung, just a little, to be compared to a Daxamite.
It took some convincing from both Supergirl and James, but J’onn finally agreed to their plan, insisting that he write the script for James’s speech.
“Do not deviate from this.” J’onn handed copies to James and Supergirl.
Supergirl read the script and glanced at Winn. “Call 1-800-BADDIES? That’s the number you got?”
He made a face. “I wanted 1-800-BAD-GUYS, but the number keys were already being used by 1-800-ACE-GUYS, and their poker table sales are really taking off,” he said.
James pocketed the script and nodded to Supergirl. “You ready?”
“Almost.” She zipped around the corner and then reappeared as Kara. “If we land on the CatCo roof, I can fly us there.” She held an arm open to James, who groaned and stepped closer.
“I hate this part,” he said, gripping her waist tightly.
“It’ll be over before you know it,” Kara said, lifting them both into the air. “Hold on to your lunch!”
Kara and James shot out of the DEO building and touched down on the CatCo roof a few seconds later.
“You get ready to broadcast, and I’ll take a copy of this speech down to the Tribune,” Kara told James while he caught his breath.
James gave her a thumbs-up, so Kara took the stairs to the floor below and hurried up to a redheaded woman eating a slice of cake.
“Vicki V! Just the woman I wanted to see.” Kara smiled broadly at her and held up the script. “I have a favor to ask.”
The woman’s eyes flitted over J’onn’s speech. “Is this for real?”
“It is. Can you get it on the front page of the evening edition?”
Vicki clucked her tongue. “I suppose I could sneak it in.” She held up the slice of cake. “It’s my last day. What’re they going to do, fire me?”
“Oh, right! You’re leaving us for that other paper.” Kara pouted her lower lip. “Aw, we’ll miss you.”
“I wish I could say the same.” Vicki leaned close. “Between you and me, this place was driving me batty.” She took the paper from Kara. “I’ll let you know once it’s done.”
“Thanks!” Kara swung her arms and stayed rooted to the floor. “Could I ask one more teeny-tiny favor?”
Vicki guarded her plate with a fork. “You can’t have my cake.”
Kara laughed. “No, I was just hoping you could point out the archives.”
“Oh!” Vicki laughed, too. “We’re all digital at the Tribune, but I can pull them up from my laptop.” She motioned for Kara to follow. “Are you looking for any article in particular?”
“An op-ed piece that Snapper Carr did,” supplied Kara, at which point Vicki wrinkled her nose.
“Ugh. He’s your boss, isn’t he? Poor you!” Her fingers hammered on the keyboard, and an article appeared on the screen: “Outside of a Dog” by Snapper Carr.
“That’s the one,” said Kara, reading the piece.
Switching to a strictly digital format (as is the mayor’s wont) favors the well-to-do who can afford e-readers over the lower class who can’t. While some devices will be made available to the public, they won’t be enough to accommodate all, and we return to the Middle Ages, where knowledge is a privilege, not a right. Well done, Mayor. Here’s hoping the voters still have enough intelligence to skip your name on the ballot come election time.
Kara gritted her teeth. Snapper had set her up for failure from the beginning! He’d trashed the mayor, knowing the man would never want to talk to CatCo again, and then assigned Kara the interview, leaving out how difficult he’d made her task.
But Kara had been in plenty of difficult situations and wasn’t about to let this one stop her. It was time for another visit to City Hall.
“Can you e-mail that article to me?” she asked Vicki, providing her e-mail address.
“You got it,” said Vicki. “Any other teeny-tiny favors?” she asked with a smirk.
“I’m all done,” Kara said, crossing her heart. “Have fun at your new job, OK?” She hugged Vicki. “And stay out of trouble.”
Vicki hugged her back. “We’re reporters, Kara. We live for trouble.”
Kara smiled to herself. She supposed the same was true of superheroes.
It was a much more confident Kara Danvers who strode up the steps of City Hall.
Once again, Ms. Binder the information clerk greeted her with a cheery smile. “Welcome to City Hall! How can I help you?”
Kara studied her for a moment, listening to the woman’s words. I probably can’t help you, but it’s polite to ask.
Ms. Binder posed as someone official, but no matter what Kara said or did, the clerk had no real power.
Good.
“The mayor’s office is on the second floor, right?” Kara pointed above them.
Ms. Binder’s smile didn’t slip an inch. “You’ll need an appointment.”
“Not to see his assistant,” said Kara, striding toward the elevator.
“Miss?” The clerk’s voice lost its cheer as Kara pressed the up button. “Miss, you can’t—”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. With a defiant glance at Ms. Binder, Kara stepped inside.
“Have a lovely day,” she said, waving as the doors closed.
She smiled at her reflection in the elevator’s brass panel as she pressed the button for the second floor. One gatekeeper down, one to go, she thought.
Kara steeled herself as the elevator doors opened again. She followed signs that led to an open rotunda outfitted with a massive mahogany desk. Behind the desk sat a young woman who looked annoyed to be alive. The nameplate on her desk read COURTNEY KEVALIER.
“Can I help you?” she asked Kara without a hint of a smile.
“I’d like to speak with the mayor,” said Kara.
Courtney’s desk phone rang, and she held up a finger while she answered it. “Mayor Lowell’s office.” She frowned. “Yes, I know there’s a young woman on her way to see me. I’m looking at her now. Why did you even let her upstairs?”
Kara tried to focus on Courtney’s words without being annoyed that they were about her.
Unlike Ms. Binder, there was authority in the assistant’s voice, and no sense of self-importance. There was, however, concern. But not for herself.
“What would have happened if she’d made it to the mayor?” Courtney barked into the phone. “Don’t let it happen again if you want to keep your job!” She hung up and returned her attention to Kara. “Why are you here?”
“To interview the mayor,” Kara said. “My boss—”
“Oh, God.” Courtney sneered. “You’re with CatCo, aren’t you? Well, the mayor’s busy.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
“I don’t believe that,” said Kara. “I’m pretty sure he’s just upset about an op-ed piece Snapper Carr wrote.”
Courtney’s face was a mask. “The mayor’s busy,” she repeated.
“Snapper attacked the mayor’s digital library initiative,” Kara continued. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s pretty important to Mayor Lowell.” She chuckled. “I mean, it even made the City Hall calendar.”
Courtney picked up the handset of her phone. “Would you like security to show you out, or can you find the exit on your own?” Her scowl was one of annoyance, but Kara caught the protectiveness in her voice.
This woman would do anything for the mayor.
Kara clasped her hands behind her back. “You know, Ms. Kevalier, silence can be more dangerous than the truth. If the mayor refuses to speak to a member of the press, people might think he’s hiding something.”
Courtney paused with her fingers over the keypad of her phone. “So that’s your play? Threatening the mayor?”
Kara shook her head. “I’m not threatening. I’m telling you what will happen. My boss wants me to interview Mayor Lowell, and I have no problem filling a half-page space in CatCo magazine with the words ‘Mayor Lowell declined to comment.’”
The mayor’s assistant gripped the handset so tightly her knuckles whitened. After a moment, she returned the handset to its cradle and reached for her computer mouse.
A few clicks later, she cleared her throat and asked, “Would Thursday at one o’clock be OK?”
“That would be great,” said Kara, making a note in her phone. “I will see you—and the mayor—then.”
“Looking forward to it,” said Courtney without a hint of enthusiasm.
Kara nodded and walked briskly away before the mayor’s assistant could change her mind and call security.
When Kara reached the ground floor, she heard a sobbing hiccup that made her slow her steps and glance to the side.
At the information desk, Ms. Binder was wiping her eyes and shuffling the same stack of papers over and over.
Kara chewed her lip and approached the desk. “Ms. Binder?”
The information clerk blinked back tears and pasted on her perfect smile. “How can I help you?”
Kara rubbed her hands together. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble. I really needed to see the mayor.”
Ms. Binder shook her head. “You were just doing your job. I should be doing mine better.”
“Oh, no!” Kara reached out to the woman. “Please don’t think that. I’m sure nobody could do this job better. I’m just . . . really desperate to impress my boss,” she confessed.
Ms. Binder let out a weak laugh. “Oh, I’ve been there.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry again. I hope you have a lovely day.” Kara tapped the desk with her index finger. “I do mean that.”
The clerk smiled at her, and this time it was genuine. “You, too, hon.”
Kara resumed her stride but didn’t walk as tall anymore.
She’d finally set up an interview with the mayor, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like a victory at all.