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Chapter 31 - Cleanup
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 21:05:24 +0000 UTCCentral City
Abandoned House
Miles took the six bullets out, only to put one back into the cylinder and rotate it with his palm.
Pointing the pistol at Mark, Miles asked. “Where is the computer?”
“Fuck you.”
Click! Miles pulled the trigger and released the cocked hammer, with the first chamber empty.
“Where is the computer, Mark?” Miles repeated his question, and he could see sweat beginning to gather on Mark’s forehead.
“You’re lying. I saw that woman on TV; she is a hero.”
Claire snorted. “Wrong, dumbass. I am his bodyguard.”
Click! Mark jumped in fright, sweating like a pig, as the second chamber didn’t have the bullet either.
“That’s two. Your chances of survival are decreasing, Mark; speak now. Where is it?”
“I… uh…” The third time wasn’t the charm, and the Weather Wizard—though Miles struggled to call the trembling sorry excuse of a human before him that name—survived again.
Suddenly aware of the danger he was in, Mark began to crawl away, eventually leaning back on the wall with nowhere else to run.
Miles pulled the trigger again, and Mark closed his eyes and raised his hands to protect himself.
And pissed his pants in fear.
Miles scrunched his nose. “You know, Mark, with all your willingness to cross Superman and Flash, you could at least afford to die with dignity.”
“I’ll talk, I’ll talk! Please stop.” Mark begged, and Miles lowered the pistol.
“See? You only made this matter harder on yourself for no reason. Now, where is the computer?” Miles would look into his enemy’s eyes but did not want to subject himself to the stench any longer than he had to.
“There is a hidden compartment in the living room, under the old couch.”
“Were you really going to kill him?” Claire asked once they were near the door, ready to go up.
Miles showed her the cylinder. “No, the gun was empty. A sleight of hand to fool him.”
“Nice.”
Mark jumped to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger. “I knew it! I knew you heroes wouldn’t kill. Just wait till the cops hear this.”
Miles sighed and put the bullets back into the revolver.
“No, wait!” Mark screamed, but it was for naught as Miles pulled the trigger, and with a flash, a bullet tore through Mark’s head, and after thinking about it for a second, Miles emptied the cylinder on the corpse.
“I am going to have to burn these clothes.” Miles took out his glove, dropping it and the weapon on Mark's body. “Burn the corpse to ashes; leave no evidence we were here.”
“I think you went a bit overboard.” Claire didn’t see the need for the extra five bullets.
“I didn’t want the bullets to go off when the weapon melted. No need to die a death reserved for people like Mark.”
Claire nodded and raised her hands, two searing fire blasts quickly carbonizing the body as the smell of cooked and then burnt meat covered the room.
The duo left the basement, with Claire welding the door shut, and found the computer where Mark said it was. “Time to leave.” No one should have heard them in the basement, but this was the DC Universe; who knew what could go wrong?
—
“I am surprised you actually did it.” Claire was startled by the first shot but had controlled herself quickly.
Miles gave her a dry look. “No one threatens me.” Not like anyone would investigate the missing villain.
Not like, say, if Joker or Lex Luthor was missing, presumed dead.
“Just a bit unexpected, that’s all.” He did say their hands would eventually get dirty.
“Now we can give Ben the good news.”
—
“You guys are back, and you found my computer too.” Ben opened the door, fixing his glasses, and reached for his missing life’s work.
Miles smiled. “Happy to be of service, Ben.”
“Did you see my brother too?” Ben asked, hesitant to actually mention Mark.
Miles shook his head, his smile not even wavering for a second. “No, we found his hideout, but there was no sign of him.”
“Oh, okay.” Ben didn't have it in his heart to care, not after everything his brother had done.
“Now, let me know when you are ready to pack up, and I’ll send over some people to move you to Metropolis.” Miles didn’t want to rush the genius before him, but the sooner he was working on the device, the better.
“Where will I be staying?” Ben’s current house was rented, seeing as his brother destroyed the previous one, so he would appreciate any assistance in that regard.
Miles pulled out a pair of keys out of his inner pocket, dropping them into Ben’s palm. “Here are the keys to a brand new house in your name, as a signing bonus.” It was a modest, two-story house he had bought for Ben.
Wealth was great; loyalty, however, even more so.
“That’s generous, too generous actually.”
“I am asking you to leave everything behind for a new start; it’s the least I can do.”
“Alright, I’ll call you as soon as I am ready.”
—
Metropolis
EnviroCorps
“Am I interrupting you, Mary?” Miles peeked inside, seeing Mary on the phone, who quickly put it down after saying she would call back the person on the other end.
“No, of course not; please come in.” Mary called her secretary to bring in refreshments, but Miles stopped her.
“I won’t stay long; I just came to inform you of a recent development.” He explained, pulling out a device from his pocket, and began to point it around the room.
“What is he doing?” Mary whispered to Claire, who came closer to answer.
“Scanning for bugs.”
Miles lifted the desktop phone and pulled a small round device out, crushing it.
Mary scowled. “God damn it. Good thing I don’t say anything important here.” It was a warning from Miles to not speak anything sensitive on the phone or in her office.
“Take the detector and scan the rest of the building.” Miles handed the device to Claire, satisfied that the room was clean.
He had requested it from Thomas Morrow during a personal visit after Central City, because this kind of espionage was to be expected after the Tomorrow Expo.
“Got it.” Claire left quickly, since there were several rooms to inspect.
“So what did you want to inform me about? Another genius scientist you recruit? Or more aliens to help us?” Anything would be better than dealing with having a listening device in her office.
“The former, actually. Do you remember the villain, Weather Wizard?” His debut wasn’t something people could, or should, forget easily.
“The moron that started a storm in Metropolis? How could I not?”
“His brother, Ben Mordon, was the genius behind the tech. With his weather control device, imagine the problems we can solve.” That was one example of how the wondrous device could be useful.
Mary’s eyes brightened, the possibilities of controlling the weather and the profit it would bring rushing to her mind. “That is actually a good idea. We can charge countries a yearly subscription based on their needs.”
She was already in business mode, and Miles saw no reason to stay anymore. “I’ll leave the finer details in your very capable hands. Here is Ben’s contact. You can apprise him of how to move forward.” He handed her a card with the number on it.
“As for the bugs, I want random but consistent scans, and I will get you in contact with a cyber wizard; she will run background checks and keep our systems secure.” His tone was more serious now, and if someone planted a bug, then chances are, their systems would be under cyber assault soon.
“Who would that be?”
“Someone trustworthy and extremely good at her job.” Zalika didn’t have much to do besides her schoolwork, so this would alleviate her boredom.
“Alright.” If Miles wanted to keep this person a secret, she wouldn’t ask.
—
Only Mary’s office was bugged, and Miles wasn’t even going to bother searching for the source.
This was the DC Universe. Most villains tended to take more direct action when subtler means failed, and those that didn’t were numbered.
He would eventually find them.
Another reason was he intended to start his own surveillance network, aside from Zalika, which was the next project he entrusted to Thomas.
Right after the genius roboticist was done with his android and the project for robots to clean the ocean.
—
EnviroCorps Robotics Research Lab
“Thomas, I see you’ve finished your android,” Miles said, noticing the old man beside his creation, which looked like a younger version of himself.
Old Thomas pointed at the robot standing on the table. “Yes, and with his help I have also completed the prototype for a pollutant-cleaning marine bot.” It was a six-foot grey metal fish, reminiscent of an eel with wide jaws and a modular body.
“I am listening.” Two pairs of hands, especially when one was an advanced synthetic, were infinitely faster than one pair.
It was the android who spoke, while his creator sat down, adjusting his ventilator. “First is the Molecular Dissolution Gills. They break down the polymer chains of plastics, reducing them to base elements—carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen.” On command, the jaws of the fish opened and closed.
“Next is the Element Conversion Chambers. Hazardous byproducts, like chlorine gas, are neutralized into harmless salt or stable ions.” Miles had no idea what the schematics were showing him and would take the explanation.
“Free carbon becomes carbonate for coral reefs and shellfish, while the robots use the hydrogen to fuel themselves.” The android seemed pleased with himself, and Miles smiled.
Arthur would love this.
Thomas, the original one, spoke again. “I have taken your warnings regarding my previous work to ensure these fish don’t get out of control and become a swarm capable of devouring everything in the ocean.” He could have done exactly that, but neither considered the risk, no matter how slim, worth it.
“Much appreciated, Thomas. I am sure neither of us wants to accidentally end the world while trying to save it.” He had known enough self-replicating and adaptive synthetic creations that got out of control to know how dangerous the situation could become.
At least in fiction, but he had no intention of trying it.
“Indeed.”
“How soon can you start mass production?” Time was of the essence, and there were funds from governments and organizations all over the world waiting for EnviroCorps to collect.
“I avoided the idea of self-replication for the aforementioned reasons, so I will need to set up an automated production facility, not to mention the materials." The real Thomas explained as his android displayed a chart that outlined the overall costs.
“Funding isn’t an issue with me, Thomas; I’ll wire the necessary amount. How soon can it be done?” He had promises to keep, and the oceans wouldn’t clean themselves.
“If I have the money now? Two weeks.”
Miles was impressed. That was a lot sooner than his expectations. “That fast?”
“With the assistance of my creations, yes.”
“Sublime news, Thomas. The world will be forever grateful to you.”
—
True to his word, with his tireless creations working alongside him, Thomas had finished the production line in two weeks, bringing another model to clean the buried macroplastics in the seabed and mesh systems to be installed on rivers.
His highly advanced technology allowed less than ten thousand robots to clean the oceans in five years, with upstream tech and river interception, which were critical to prevent further plastic from reaching the oceans.
Studies showed that 80%-90% of marine plastic came from a few hundred heavily polluted rivers, especially in Asia and Africa, which also required policy changes.
Where there was a flow of money, there was influence, which would be used to enact those changes.
Mary had already applied for the multinational grants and regional, national, and local programs to fund the project, which, with what they had already achieved, mostly meant profit to stay in their coffers.
A demonstration was slated to be held in Gotham Harbor, which made it the perfect target with how polluted it was.
—
Gotham
Gotham Harbor
There were several important people in attendance, so the security was high.
Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy; Mayor Hamilton Hill; several visitors from the World Bank and Global Environment Facility, the UN Environment Program, the EU, China, India, and Africa; and, of course, King Arthur of Atlantis.
Miles had personally invited Arthur to show that he had kept his promise, and the King of Atlantis was all too eager to be there in person.
Since Mary was busy, she had sent the new head of the robotics department, Dr. Josiah Engelby, a man who had worked in the field for decades, eventually settling with EnviroCorps due to what they stood for. "Good afternoon, Gotham! Take a look around—this is our reality. Plastics, waste, debris—our harbor is suffocating."
"But today, that changes." He pressed the button on the podium, and the giant screen behind him came to life.
At the same time, a school of fish suddenly broke through the surface of the Gotham harbor, swimming in unison before diving again.
The live video feed showed the fish carrying out their program, targeting floating debris, plastics, and any other pollutant they found, while another group worked on the seabed.
"Meet the newest product from the EnviroCorps, the Recyclus—six-foot autonomous guardians that hunt pollution like a predator hunts prey. Plastics are collected, neutralized, and safely returned to the ecosystem."
"No more floating islands of trash. No more microplastics poisoning our waters. Just clean water, thriving wildlife, and a city that takes responsibility."
"Gotham, the future is here—and it swims beneath your feet." Engelby finished his speech with a grand line, and the crowd applauded, some actually hopeful, others more interested in other applications.
Following the speech and the demonstration, it was time for questions while Miles entertained his guests.
—
Aquaman grasped Miles’ forearm, a broad smile on his usually serious face. “My friend, you have carried out your end of the bargain, and I couldn’t be more grateful to you for it.”
Miles squeezed the offered arm back. “We are just beginning, Arthur; you can thank me when it's done.”
Arthur shook his head, mirthful. "Nonetheless, there are grumblings from within Atlantis, and your efforts will go a long way to silence them.”
“Believe me, it is my pleasure.” The fewer antagonists in Atlantis, the better for both worlds.
Another guest approached, and Arthur excused himself to go and talk to some senators. “I must congratulate you again, Miles; your work for the environment is certainly consistent.”
“How kind of you, Bruce.”
“You must have excellent employees to design and build these robots.” Inwardly, Miles sighed. He would have to up the security around the robotics department and keep all names confidential.
Outwardly, he was smiling. “Asking for business secrets? That’s just rude.”
Bruce shook his head. “Merely a compliment.”
“My, the ladies will be jealous at this rate.”
“Hopefully not.” Anything more he had to say was interrupted when explosions, followed by screams, cut through the atmosphere.
What was it now?
Comments
GameMage
Gotham, man, always something with that thrice cursed city. Thanks for the chapter.
Dale
joker. money is on the joker.
