The water was knee deep on the man and about twenty-five degrees Celsius. It was far from the cleanest of water, but it could be considered safe to walk in, just not to drink. He winced as the water seeped slightly through his skin bringing the tingle of refuse and chemicals with it. A little over 180 yards ahead was a much deeper pool filled with cooler, but more stagnant, water. The top of the pool was where the sludge gathered but below that it was almost drinkable. The man knew all this because he was no ordinary man; he was the Monarch of Atlantis and King of the Seven Seas. He was Aquaman.

He was born Orin, the child of the Queen of Atlantis, but unluckily born with blonde hair. The people of Atlantis, fearing a curse that was the result of a fair-headed child, forced the parents to abandon young Orin on a coral reef to die. Found by dolphins and raised by a lighthouse keeper, the now re-christened Arthur Curry went on to become a founding member of the Justice League and a hero before finding his true heritage and returning to Atlantis as king.

Although when writing a list of places such a decorated and respected hero would be likely to be spotted, the sewers under Bludhaven were close to last. Aquaman trudged somewhat reluctantly forward through the refuse stained waters. The sewers had seen better days. Age, poor craftsmanship, and the after effects of the earthquake that destroyed Gotham and damaged Bludhaven had all taken their toll on the brick walls and roof. Pipes were cracked and near the breaking point and water drained from above, pouring down on the sea king's long blonde hair. A series of more recent cracks dotted the area, remnants of an explosion?

Aquaman stopped and began to examine the mold-encrusted wall. He ran his fingers along the weathered bricks and in-between the cracks, studying it closely. Suddenly his metal prosthetic hand morphed smoothly from a golden hand into a razor sharp harpoon. He spun around quickly and raised the lethal point into the air, pointing back towards the way he had come.

"You might as well come out of the shadows." Aquaman said, his accent conjuring images of whale songs and dolphin cries, "I can see in almost total darkness."

"I'm well aware of that. I am impressed you noticed me following you." came the reply as a black clad individual stepped out, "I thought I didn't even make a peep. Your hearing must be as good as your vision."

"It is. And you were quite quiet, Nightwing," Aquaman said slowly lowering his harpoon, "Your trainer would be proud. But silence doesn't help you hide from echolocation."

Nightwing shrugged and nodded understandingly. He hadn't really been trying to avoid being noticed anyway. He smiled and closed the distance between the two heroes.

"Frankly given your reputation and Garth's opinion of you I'm unimpressed." Aquaman stated, "You should have anticipated the sonar."

"Ouch." Nightwing responded. "Did you invade my sewers to test me or is there a real reason why you're in Bludhaven?"

"Your sewers?"

"If I decided to fight some crime in Poseidonis without telling you would you be accepting?" Nightwing said with a slight twinge of smugness.

Aquaman ignored the comment, "I'm pursuing an escaped Atlantean fugitive. He fled into your sewers from the ocean after escaping from the maximum-security penitentiary where he was being held. He goes by the name Wight 'Shark' Bisbet."

Nightwing grew serious, "Did he flee here or head here on purpose?"

"He came went straight for Bludhaven."

"I'm guessing it wasn't for the cheese-steak sandwiches."

Aquaman shook his head, "He has delusions of creating the first Atlantean mafia. With him as the kingpin."

"Haven't there been crime-bosses before?"

"Not any successful ones. And I plan to keep it that way."

"So he decided to become the first? Great. Like I don't have enough problems with crime bosses. Where'd he get that idea from?"

"He was a professor in what you would probably label a university. Teaching Surface World Studies. He became overly fascinated with your books and movies, specifically the crime genre. Films like 'Scarface' and 'the Untouchables'."

"Didn't watch the Sopranos?"

"Atlantis doesn't get HBO."

"Your loss."

"Not really. The Watchtower does. But this is unimportant. Bisbet is. I believe he plans to offer his services to one Roland Desmond, aka Blockbuster. One amateur gangster I can easily handle, but several professionals could be trouble. I won't have Blockbuster increasing his influence to include any of Atlantis."

"Great." Nightwing sighed, "Your problem is now mine. I suppose this Bisbet hasn't heard that the bounty's been called off either. Need some back up?"

"I can handle this."

"Look this concerns me too. If he gets to Desmond…"

"He won't." Aquaman said turning away from Nightwing and continuing down the tunnel.

"But…"

"He won't. One way or another." Aquaman said coldly. Aquaman stopped for a second and turned back. "Wait, why exactly are you in the sewers?"

"I recently had some trouble of my own down here. I was checking for evidence. Like half eaten bodies. Not the happiest of jobs."

Aquaman nodded. "I will not keep you any longer. Best of luck."

Nightwing frowned. "Yeah... you too."

The sea king continued down the sewer. Aquaman kept his hand as a harpoon. He would need it soon enough. Wight 'Shark' was about to become endangered. He trudged somewhat reluctantly forward through the sludge filled water in the sewers. He would have rather been almost anywhere else. The Justice League Watchtower, Poseidonis, his semi-secret hideaway the Aqua-cave, or just swimming the ocean depths. Instead he was chasing an escaped Atlantean fugitive through the quake-damaged sewers of some surface-dweller city. Normally he wouldn't even be there, Atlantis does have people to catch common crooks. But Wight 'Shark' Bisbet might not be quite as common as people thought…

All Atlanteans have a greater psychic potential than surface dwellers. This is mostly, but not always, limited to telepathy. Atlantean telepathy is also mostly limited to communicating with sea life or other Atlanteans. Aquaman's was somewhat greater than the average psychic Atlantean's. Bisbet, on his capture a couple years ago by a single Poseidonis police squad, had demonstrated no psychic powers whatsoever. But just a few short days ago he suddenly manifested powerful telekinetic gifts, which he used to escape from his maximum-security cell and level part of the jail in the process.

If there was one thing Aquaman didn't like it was things that endangered his people, and the unknown that was Bisbet represented a fairly large endangerment. He was determined to catch Bisbet before he made it to the surface and also find out how he got his powers.

Aquaman stopped for a second. He had left Nightwing behind a few minutes ago. He trusted Nightwing, but he had seen him grow from a twelve-year-old acrobat into a young hero and he didn't want to see anything happen to him. As highly as Garth regarded him he was still only human and would be left behind if the trail led underwater. Besides, Bisbet was an Atlantean matter. Surface dwellers were partially to blame for his mental pollution already.

He risked another mind probe. The sewers under Bludhaven were big; you could lose people for years under there. Finding a single person in the labyrinth-like tunnels was astonishingly hard. Aquaman sighed, maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss Nightwing - a tracker would be useful now. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and probed again.

Nothing. His connection to The Clear, the elemental union of all marine life, should have at least given him a vague direction of Bisbet. Instead it was like he was not even in Bludhaven, let alone elsewhere in the sewers. Aquaman sighed, he had feared as much. Whatever mental boosts that had given Bisbet telekinesis also at least shielded him from telepathy.

The sewer opened up into a large pool drainage pool. Several streams of water dripped down the walls from the streets far above. A thick oily sludge had collected over the years atop the pool obscuring the bottom from prying eyes. It was a perfect hiding place.

Wrinkling his nose Aquaman reluctantly dove in. It was bad enough to swim in water as disgusting as that, let along having to breathe it in. He quickly swam down to the bottom. The pool was fairly stagnant, what little oxygen there was in the water would quickly be used up. Aquaman searched quickly. At the bottom of the pool something metallic caught his eye. He sped through the water for a closer look. It was an underwater flare gun crudely rigged up to a motion sensor. Bisbet had been busy.

Aquaman spun backwards as the flare shot upward missing him by several yards. But he hadn't been the target. The flare ignited on the sewer ceiling sending brilliant phosphorus lightshow down to the oily sludge igniting it.

Aquaman swore bitterly. He didn't dare swim up; the sludge would cling to him and burn him alive. And the flames would quickly consume what little oxygen there was in the water. He would smother to death. A quick look around showed all the drain-off pipes were too small to fit through. There was no way out but the way he came.

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To Be Continued...

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