Flamebird

Today

Bette Kane waved as she stepped onto the tarmac. Ignoring the reporters’ continued questions, she hurried up the stairs and handed her ticket to the stewardess. She signed a quick autograph and found her seat. After stowing her purse in an overhead bin, she settled back into her first-class seat and tried to relax.

I should have known, she thought. She heard muttering coming from the seat in front of her. She peeked over the top of the seat and saw an odd little man with red hair sitting there.

“Almost time,” he kept muttering to himself. “Almost time. Almost time. Almost time.”

Weirdo, Bette thought. She fastened her seatbelt; picked up an issue of Cosmo she’d gotten at the airport, and started flipping through it.

Bette scowled. She’d finished her magazine earlier, but the guy in front of her hadn’t shut up yet. She unbuckled her seatbelt and stormed down the aisle. Maybe in the bathroom she’d get a little peace and quiet.

As she passed the little man, he started cackling wildly. “IT’S TIME!!!!!” he yelled. Bette had had enough. She put her hands on her hips and turned to face him. Just then a glowing circle appeared and swallowed them both.

Then

Bette Kane woke up and looked around. She was lying on cobblestones. She carefully stood and glanced at herself in a store window. She was wearing tiny shoes with delicate heels, a long dress with a high collar, and a feathered hat on her head. She glanced down and saw a young boy selling newspapers. She fished a penny from her purse and gave it to him. She stepped away, reading the paper as she went. Her eyes went wide as she saw the date at the top of the paper. April 17, 1906.

1906! she thought. How? Her mind turned back to what she remembered. That creep on the plane! Of course! Suddenly a name floated into her head. Per Degaton? I’ve read about him! He fought the JSA! Bette bit her lip as she thought. Now what? She walked to an outdoor café and sat down. She quickly ordered a cup of black coffee which she sipped as she skimmed the paper. There’s got to be something… she thought. Suddenly the answer snapped into her head. She quickly folded her paper and waved the busboy over.

“May I assist you, madam?” he asked.

“Can you direct me to the train station, please?” Bette asked.

Shortly thereafter, Bette had boarded the train. It promised to be a four-hour ride to her destination. I hope he’s there, Bette thought as she settled in her seat. That’s going to be afternoon, and he’s always been more of a night person. Bette closed her eyes as the train lurched and then slowly began to move forward. I just hope he’s there. He’s my only hope. Bette closed her eyes and her mind began to wander.

“Look out, miss!” A yellow and red blur slammed into Bette, throwing her to the ground. A bullet whizzed through the space where she’d just been standing. As she turned her head to look, a blue-gloved fist slammed into the gunman’s jaw, sending him sprawling.

“Sorry about that,” someone said from in front of her. She looked up and saw bare legs. She followed them up to the extended green glove and a face with a friendly smile on it. She took the offered hand and was helped to her feet.

“Are you all right?” her rescuer asked. She nodded, still numb from the excitement. “Good. I’m sorry I had to knock you down like that, but he was shooting at you.” The young man turned his head.

“Time to go,” his older partner said in a cold voice. “Gordon and his men can take it from here.” With a wave goodbye, the young man followed his partner as they disappeared into the night.

Then it was years later. She was floating in a swimming pool beside that young man, only they were both older now. He again offered a hand to pull her back to dry land, but he wasn’t smiling this time. His partner’s coldness had infected him as well.

He was silent for a moment, obviously choosing his words carefully, “I’m flattered I `inspired’ you to do this, but it’s gone too far. You’re a good kid, Bette. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you. But it isn’t in spandex. Anyway, I’ve got to run. Take care of yourself.” And then he disappeared into the night again, leaving her behind.

Tears welled up in her eyes at his coldness. Then, deep inside, a fire began to burn. “Give it up?” she asked. “Not on your life.”

More time passed. “Come on, Gar! You know we can do it!”

She hadn’t even noticed the look that passed over her green friend’s face. She knew that that young man and his friends had hurt him as well. All she had wanted to do was help, and she had been rejected. All he had ever wanted to do was to belong, and he had been rejected time and time again.

“Bette, haven’t you realized what a disaster Titans West is?” he asked, but she really wasn’t listening. Deep in her heart, she knew that she could make a difference. And days later, with the acquisition of an old warehouse that would serve as a headquarters, she got her chance as Titans West came to life once more.

“Ma’am?” Gar’s voice sounded different. And now all the Titans were grabbing and shaking her!

Bette’s eyes flew open and she looked into the concerned face of the conductor, who was gently shaking her shoulder. “Ma’am, are you ill?”

It only took a moment for Bette to remember where – or more precisely, when – she was. “No, thank you,” she replied with a shy smile. “I’m afraid I dozed off. The rocking of the train is quite soothing.”

A smile of relief crossed the conductor’s face as well. “Good. I feared for your health. We have arrived at your destination,” he said.

Bette stood. “Thank you, sir,” she said as she walked off the train and into 1906 Opal Town.

As she walked out of the station, she studied the skyline, trying (and failing) to see the city that was to come. Now what? she thought as she looked up and down the street. She smiled as she saw a familiar sight in Opal, even in this time. Coffee shops. She sat down, accepted a cup from a waiter, and began to sip it as she thought.

Great, Bette. You’ve made it this far, but now what? Did you expect him to just be waiting for you at the station? How do I find him now? I can’t just look him up in the phone book. Her eyes went wide as she saw the person she was seeking take a seat with a friend at a nearby table. Her hand shook as she carefully set the cup down in its saucer. She finally took a deep breath, stood, and walked to the table.

“Excuse me?” she asked. The man she was seeking looked up.

“May I help you, madam?” His voice was as silky-smooth as ever.

“I need your help,” she said.

“Ah, but I do not believe that I know you, madam.” His smile hadn’t changed a bit.

“Not yet, anyway,” Bette said. “Still, we will meet in time.”

“Will we?” he asked, the friend forgotten. “And you do not even know my name.”

”Of course I do,” Bette said, taking a quick breath. “Shade.”

The Shade’s friend burst into laughter. “Shade?” he asked. “Mr. Black, this girl is a lunatic!”

The Shade wasn’t smiling. “Perhaps we should discuss this more privately.” He turned to the friend. “You must forgive me,” he said, “But business beckons.”

”Of course,” the friend said, reaching for another biscuit. “Still, don’t be too hard on the girl.”

The Shade smiled and turned to Bette, leading her down the street. He finally pulled her into an alley. “You have precisely three seconds to tell me how you know that name,” he said harshly. “Or else you will join your fellow Ludlows in the grave.”

Bette smiled. “I’m not a Ludlow, Sh – Mr. Black,” she corrected. “I meant what I said. We will meet again in time. And my story will sound quite mad.”

Shade thought a moment. “Consider yourself lucky,” he advised. “You have my interest as of this moment. Losing it would be most unfortunate.”

“I hope that my tale will keep your fascination,” she said.

Shade nodded once. “I keep some rooms near here,” he said. “Come with me.” The two began walking down the street in silence.

Once inside the room, the Shade locked the door as Bette sat down on a settee. He turned on the gaslights and turned to her. He pulled a chair in front of her and sat down. “Begin,” he said.

“My name is Bette Kane,” she said. “And I’m from the future – the year 2004, as a matter of fact.”

”2004,” the Shade remarked. “How very H.G. Wells. Have the Morlocks taken over the earth yet?”

Bette ignored the flippant remarks and continued. “We met when I was abducted by one of the Ludlows. You killed him and saved me.”

Shade frowned. “The Ludlows are still around in 2004? I must be losing my touch.”

“I was traveling to Los Angeles when I was pulled back here with someone else – a villain by the name of Per Degaton. He plans to start a World War by assassinating the king.”

“A lofty goal,” Shade said, “But why? What does he gain?”

Bette thought a moment and tried to discover the answer. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “It’s like I’ve got bits and pieces of a movie floating in my head, and I’m just trying to sift through them.”

“Movie?” the Shade asked.

“Motion picture,” Bette corrected.

“Ah.” The Shade still looked unconvinced.

Bette decided to play her trump card. “What if I can prove that what I’m saying is true?” she asked.

“I would be most interested,” the Shade replied.

Bette took a deep breath and thanked her lucky stars she’d paid attention in history class. “The date today is April 17, 1906, correct?”

”Correct.”

”Tomorrow morning there will be an earthquake in San Francisco, followed by a fire. The city will be all but destroyed, and thousands will die.”

“Well, now. That is a bold prediction.” The Shade stood. “I accept your wager. Should you be proven correct, I will offer all possible aid to assist you in your quest.” He picked up his coat and cane. “Now I must bid you adieu for the evening. The doors and windows are locked, but you should be quite comfortable here. Until the morrow,” he said as he vanished into a portal of darkness.

“Until then,” Bette agreed, her mind racing.

To Be Continued...

Next Issue: When Bette’s prediction is proven true by history, the Shade keeps his promise, assembling a team of allies to aid them to save King Edward VII!

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