Master of the Hunt, Part IV

All parts linked here.

 

0500 Hours, the Batcave

As Nightwing filled Cyborg in on his portion of the happenings of the previous ten hours, Batman hunched over the Bat Computer. When Nightwing finally finished, Batman gestured for his attention.

“Computer, display a three dimensional model of the Blüdhaven Harbor subject.”

“Yes, Master B-”

Batman muted the computer just before it blurted his name out.

A yellow projection appeared in the center of the room, almost directly inside of Nightwing, who promptly moved to the side.

“Set transparency of the implants to zero percent, the rest of the projection to eighty-five percent.”

Immediately the spiderweb of cords, rods, and motors came into view.

“Reduce transparency of internal organs, skeletal structure, and nervous system to thirty-five percent.”

The young man’s internal structures came into focus, and Batman glanced at Cyborg, who circled the projection, examining it closely.

“I’m sure you remember what I told you on the Batwing, so I won’t bother explaining this mess. You probably understand it as well as I do. What do you think? Is it Mother Box tech?”

After a lengthy pause, Cyborg replied.

“No.”

Batman and Nightwing waited for him to elaborate.

“The design of the occular implant is completely different from my robotic eye, for one. Regardless of the fact that they’re more advanced, they should bear similarities to mine if they were Mother Box.”

Batman heaved a sigh.

“Great. We have nothing to go off of.”

“Have you tried asking him?”

Batman and Nightwing shot each other looks.

“How often do you and your villains sit down for a nice heart-to-heart?” Batman asked, in a slightly confrontational manner.

“What makes you think he’s a villain?”

“The fact that he attacked me,” Nightwing interjected.

“You said he attacked Deathstroke first,” Cyborg shrugged. “I don’t know what it’s like to be upgraded to a technological monstrosity against my will, but I’d imagine he’s scared.”

“Why don’t you ask him then?” Batman asked quietly.

“Sure. Show me where he is.”

Batman nodded crisply and dismissed the projection.

As he and Nightwing exited the room, Nightwing whispered, “When he said he wouldn’t know…”

“Yes, that was sarcasm.”

“Thought so.”

At length, the group arrived at the holding room. Cyborg was instantly disgusted.

“Oh, come on! Get him somewhere comfortable, please, and then leave us alone. Batman, sometimes I worry about you…”

“Don’t. Nightwing, would you grab him and move him to one of the interrogation rooms?”

“Yessir.”

Cyborg rolled his real eye, but let the two vigilantes be. Batman left almost immediately.

“Sorry… ‘Scuse me…” Nightwing muttered as he moved past Cyborg with the young man’s unconscious body.

A couple minutes and three hallways later, Cyborg was seated across a table from the young man, and, with a light jostling of the shoulder, the young man came to.

“G’morning, kid. You ok?”

Cyborg caught the brief flare of color in the young man’s eyes, exactly as Batman and Nightwing had described, but it faded almost instantly.The young man rubbed his eyes, just like a little kid waking up from a nap, and nodded.

“Water?”

Cyborg pushed a glass of crystal clear liquid toward the young man, who nodded eagerly and drained the glass.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“I’m Huntmaster James Monson, sir.”

Cyborg nodded and smiled.

“Is ‘Huntmaster’ a name or something else?”

“Military title, sir. I don’t like it but I’m required to use it.”

“Ok. Where’re you from?”

“Pureman City Center, sir.””Where’s that?”

“Capitol of America, sir. Well…”

“That’s Washington D.C.”

“I know, sir. Pureman City will be – well, might be, though…”

“What makes you say that?”

“It is in the future I came from.”

Cyborg arched an eyebrow.

“Really? Is that where you got your upgrades?”

“Forced military conscription. They- they were supposed to make me= make me kill Superman…”

The young man’s innocent eyes contorted into an expression of pure anger.

“If you knew what was good for you you’d take that plasma cannon and blast my head clean open, right here, right now.”

Cyborg drew in a deep breath, obviously surprised, then sighed.

“Alright, I’m gonna leave. You take a couple deep breaths, ok? I’m sure we can help you somehow, just hang in there.”

As Cyborg left the room, the young man’s head jerked sharply to the left.

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