The Hall of Justice had long since regained power. Batwoman had planned ahead: a bank of nuclear reactors buried deep beneath the hall could meet all its energy needs.
But when she saw Starman and Deathstroke appear together, Bruce felt, for one brief moment, as though everything before her had gone dark.
They were both problems she could hardly solve.
While Bruce considered how to question Starman, Deathstroke stepped forward from behind her. "Batwoman, settle the bill first."
"I've prepared your payment," Batwoman replied calmly, looking straight ahead. "Someone will contact you."
Deathstroke shook his head and wagged a finger between them. "That's the old bill. I'm talking about what just happened."
Batwoman's mouth tightened. "I don't owe you anything."
"No? Your patient woke up in a bad mood and looked ready to kill a few people to relax. I smacked him with my greatsword to clear his head. You can see for yourself—he's back to normal."
Deathstroke stepped aside, inviting Starman to speak for himself. Faced with Bruce's searching gaze, the exhausted-looking Starman managed only a wry smile.
"I'm sorry."
That confirmed Deathstroke's account. Whatever the cause, the special energy in Starman's mind might have gone out of control when he woke.
Without Deathstroke's Nightfall Greatsword, the damage might not have stopped at the Hall of Justice. People could have been hurt or killed.
Batwoman nodded without hesitation. "Name your price."
Deathstroke leaned against the doorway and waved to M'gann. She happily raised a hand and wiggled her fingers back, smiling—though with Batwoman being pressed for payment, she wasn't quite sure a smile was appropriate.
"We can settle the old bill later. This time, I only want gold or jewels." Deathstroke nodded to M'gann, then turned his glowing red eye toward Batwoman.
"You're changing how you take payment. You've