Dick followed the directions of his new friend, a little boy named Garfield Mark Logan, and slipped silently through the maze of underground corridors.
Water occasionally dripped from the exposed pipes on the walls. A black cat darted nimbly across them, landed on the floor, and turned back into a human.
"Just up ahead." Garfield pointed to a heavy metal door at the end of the corridor. "Cliff's in there. I found him in secret."
"Wow, your power is so cool."
Dick looked at Garfield in admiration. "Can I learn to do that?"
"I don't know." Garfield shook his head blankly. "But it's not a good thing. A lot of the time, I can't control myself."
"It's okay. We'll find a way."
He looked Garfield over a few more times. Unfortunately, the boy was too young, only six or seven. Otherwise, Dick could have recruited him to start a team.
Dick refocused and crouched to inspect the lock. It wasn't electronic, but an old-fashioned mechanical lock. That made things much easier. He took the Lockpicking Tools Batman had trained him to use from his belt, and a few seconds later, the lock gave a faint click.
The door opened onto a room resembling a laboratory storeroom. Equipment and parts lay piled in disarray, while on the metal workbench in the center, Cliff Steele's head sat alone on a stand, the indicator lights in his eyes flickering weakly.
"Whoa! Holy shit!"
Dick startled and cried out under his breath. "Was he beheaded?"
Cliff's head turned, his sensors facing the doorway.
"Thank God," he said in a strange, synthesized electronic voice. "I thought I'd be stuck here until I grew mold... wait, who are you?"
"Dick Grayson. Harleen Quinzel... um... the sheriff sent me." Dick hurried over to the workbench. "What the