Fic: Splintered, Part 5.2
LJ is still giving me the "post too large" error, so I guess this'll be broken into three parts. This doesn't bode well for Part Six, which is also long. Part Five
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Bruce paced back and forth in the Cave, trying to make sense of the burglary. "Is there anything unusual about these artifacts? Some reason Circe would go to all this trouble to get them?"
"No… can you rotate the holo?" Diana frowned, as if trying to remember something. Bruce showed her the commands to rotate the image and she turned the flute upside down.
She was deep in thought. "Anemeno…" She broke off when she noticed his puzzled air, chuckled. "Sorry. I mean, wait. Let’s look at that flute again." She played with the controls, finally got the zoom to work. "That looks like the Double Flute of Euterpe. I thought that had been destroyed ages ago. Amazing - here in Man’s World on display…"
Bruce was impressed. "What does it do?"
"It’s said to entrance audiences. Makes perfect sense that Circe would want it."
"And the vial?"
Diana frowned. "That’s been puzzling me for a while now. It’s alabaster, so the owner must have been wealthy. At first I thought it would contain perfume or oils, but there was a standard shape for that kind of thing that everyone followed, more or less. That isn’t it. "
Bruce looked at it for the umpteenth time. "It’s sort of a teardrop shape, if that helps."
Diana sighed, leaned back. "Right, a teardrop shape. Very unusual - not Hellenistic, not Hellenic. Could just be whimsical, I guess… how do you zoom again?"
Bruce showed her.
"Let’s see… the inscription is… odd, to say the least. Hmm… if I try to follow the same rhyme scheme, it would be
When oceans waves run dry
When dunes soak the earth
When gods like mortals cry
The impossible comes to birth.
"And Jesus wept," Bruce muttered under his breath.
"As I said, very odd… I’m sorry, Bruce. Did you say something?"
"Nothing relevant."
She looked at him curiously, then continued. "Anyway, there’s something about this… I don’t know." She looked downcast. "Maybe if we looked at the video again?"
"Sure. Let me queue it up." His fingers raced over the keyboard. "Here we go. Screen three."
The screen showed Circe and Catwoman walking slowly toward the display. It was obvious to Bruce that they had specific items in mind; their eyes were scanning the display cases, noticing and passing up flashy and large objects.
"They do seem to have a list, don’t they, Bruce?" Diana asked suddenly.
Bruce was once again pleased. "Yes, that’s right. And this time, let’s see if I can read their lips. Computer Command, slow down playback to seventy percent."
"Acknowledged. Playback slowed to seventy percent."
"Computer Command, enhance vocal area."
"Acknowledged. Enhancing vocal area." The areas around Circe and Selina’s mouth changed color, became thicker, larger.
Bruce was looking intently at the screen. "Okay… okay… Hrn." He punched the pause button. "This is interesting. Selina used a word - it made Circe shush her."
"What was the word?" Diana asked intently.
"Her face was half-turned away," he answered glumly. "But it looked like ‘ear’, beginning with a plosive."
"A plosive?"
"A stop consonant." Seeing that she still looked puzzled, he clarified. "A type of consonant sound; could be k, d, n, or t, so the word could be dear, near…"
Diana interrupted. "Tear."
Bruce smiled. "Of course. Selina was describing the shape of the vial to steal: the tear-shaped one. Still begs the question - why steal it in the first place?"
Diana nodded. "And why did Circe shush her? Even if she was afraid someone would see the video somehow, despite the cameras being disabled, so what? Anyone watching would see the object in question being taken just a moment later!"
"Right. So the word must provide a clue to what they’re up to, not just to their immediate actions."
They watched for a moment more. Selina is acting strange - almost as if she’s forgotten this is a job. She had a tentative, almost pleading look when she addressed Circe.
Maybe it's not a job at all. He hit the pause button again.
"Diana."
She looked at him quizzically.
"This is personal for her. For Selina, I mean."
She paused, considering. "Yes, I do believe you’re right."
Bruce let out his breath through clenched teeth. "Selina, what the hell are you doing?"
Diana smiled out of the corner of her mouth. "Think she can hear you?" And she cocked an eyebrow suddenly. "Wait a minute. Selina? You’re on a first name basis with her?"
"Hrn."
She laughed. "Keep your secrets, silly male. Fine, let’s recap. It’s personal. Circe picked up something for herself. It follows that what Selina-" she playfully lingered on the word just long enough to annoy him "- picked up is for herself. A tear-shaped vial, ancient and from a wealthy person’s treasure. The rhyme - clearly a riddle -"
Bruce interrupted, "Why is it a riddle?"
"It mentions something impossible. Can’t be taken at face value."
"What’s impossible about it?"
Diana looked at him, surprised. "I thought you knew. Gods can’t cry. So ‘when gods like mortals cry’ must be code, a puzzle…"
"Okay, I vaguely remember that from mythology now, but…"
Diana continued, almost as if he hadn’t spoken. "So it stands to reason that… that…" she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "By Tartarus, there’s something… something I…"
And she clapped her hand over her mouth so suddenly that Bruce gave a start.
"Diana! What…"
She was shaking her head slowly, her eyes wide. "This… this can’t be…"
"What?"
"The vial. It’s not just teardrop-shaped, Bruce! It is a teardrop! Or at least that’s what it represents. When gods cry, Bruce!"
"Diana, I don’t…"
She was pacing now. "There is a legend - that Aphrodite was once walking the earth when she came upon a maiden sitting on the ground, who was crying inconsolably. She had been crying so long, she had no more tears to shed. Her face was red, distorted with grief.
Moved with pity, Aphrodite most merciful stood beside her, in the guise of a woman of the same age, and asked her what was the matter.
The maiden at first did not respond, then said simply, ‘My lover is gone.’
Aphrodite asked for details, and - here… here the legend become almost blasphemous…" Diana was wringing her hands.
Bruce gazed at her, mesmerized.
"Mila’s lover Nicias had indeed left. He had been fighting in a war, and had come to her upon returning home. But he had been touched by the madness of Ares, and had become angry, suspicious of all he saw. One day he was climbing the hill to visit Mila, and thought he saw her in the fields below, passionately embracing another man. Although they had agreed to wed upon his return, he had been worried, obsessed that his love would be false to him during his long absence.
"Being possessed by the madness of Ares, he swore vengeance against the man who dared despoil his lover, and hastened to the village where the man’s family lived. Nicias publicly repudiated Mila, dissolved their betrothal, slew the man’s entire family, and then fled into the wilderness."
"Sounds a bit melodramatic, but hardly blasphemous," Bruce commented.
Diana glanced at him, sternly. "I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Listen.
"Mila was now doubly ruined, as the one her lover had seen her with had been attacking her. She had lost her love and her reputation, and yet she knew that Nicias would not have done those terrible things of his own accord. She wanted him to return, free of Ares’ madness, to love her again, yet she knew that was impossible. Unlike Mila’s attacker, her attacker’s father had been a kindly man, kinder to Mila than Mila’s father had ever been, for Mila’s father had always been cruel to her and her siblings.
"A blood feud erupted, with Ares egging everyone on. Kinsmen of the slain family came and blamed - blamed whomever was handy, and whole families died.
"Mila’s plight saddened Aphrodite so deeply that she -she actually began to cry.
"Poor Mila. She was real." Diana appeared genuinely moved. "What a fate."
Bruce cleared his throat, noticing that his eyes were slightly moister than they really should be. "So, you think this - this vessel contains the tears of a goddess?"
"Yes. The Tears of Aphrodite. At first, Aphrodite did not understand what was happening. She had never cried before - had thought it impossible. She dropped her mortal guise and sat down next to Mila on the ground, sobbing.
"She waved her hand, and the legend states that her tears collected themselves into a receptacle of some kind. That must be it.
"What do they do?" Bruce asked, trying to return to the problem at hand.
"No one knows for certain. But the legends - other legends, later legends - assume it is a kind of love potion. Perhaps it also cured Nicias of his madness."
Bruce was almost relieved. "That’s it?!"
Diana looked at him in complete amazement, her right hand now resting on a nearby lab workbench. "This is not a love potion concocted by the village alchemist for a pimply adolescent, Bruce! These are the tears of the goddess of love! Selina…" and she broke off, suddenly eyeing Bruce with white-hot fury. "Explain."
"Um…" Bruce realized he was actually sweating, smiled weakly. "She - that is, I - "
Her foot started tapping again, making the furniture rattle.
"We were lovers… once." Well, that’s what Selina thinks, anyway.
"Once?!"
His apprehension turned into exasperation. "Diana, for God’s sake! Think! Why do you think Selina would steal the plutonium of love potions if I were in love with her? She could just meet me on a rooftop!"
She's gouged a hole in the lab table with her hand. Damn. Didn't know she cared that much...
Had no clue Selina cared that much either.
"Let’s assume for the moment I believe you, Bruce." Diana’s chilly, brittle voice interrupted his thoughts. "What are we going to do?"
He raised an eyebrow inside his cowl. "We?" he asked sardonically.
Her eyes flashed. "Don’t flatter yourself, man. Under this kind of a spell, you wouldn’t just be infatuated with her. You would do anything she asks. Anything. You’d be a security risk!"
He opened his mouth, then closed it. But Selina wouldn’t…
Would she?
"Now you see the problem, you narcissistic idiot! By Zeus, mother was right. Men are good for only one thing, and it isn’t thinking!"
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. "And how exactly would you know what I’m good for, darling?"
Diana seemed like she was about to fly at him.
"Jealous? I didn’t think you cared," he taunted.
She tossed her head. "Who says I do?"
He walked up to her. "Not who. What." He pointed at her carotid artery, which was pulsing visibly.
"And that." And he pointed at her hands, which were shaking, balled-up fists.
"And that." And he brushed his finger underneath her eyes, which were welling with unshed tears.
Bruce’s voice was low. "My. To look at you, I would have thought you wouldn’t be able to cry either."
Her expression softened. "Stop. I’m no goddess, Bruce. Don’t say that." She looked away, and some tears actually started to flow.
"Any man would worship you, though."
"You’re not just any man."
"What kind of man am I, then?"
"Mine." She looked deeply into his eyes, as if challenging him to disagree.
He met her gaze steadily, grateful that she couldn’t see his pulse pounding beneath the cowl.
Part 5.3