Meanwhile, elsewhere.
The wind was strong by the sea.
Batman stepped off the plane, the hem of his coat blowing to one side, and walked over the wet sand toward the moored boats. A few people on the dock were dragging a small boat ashore, its hull scraping against the planks with a piercing screech.
Arthur stood on the other side, gripped the gunwale, lifted the boat, and set it on a rack.
The fishermen stepped back and wound the ropes again. Arthur shook the water off his hands, picked up his jacket, and looked at the approaching visitor.
The clothes, the shoes, the watch on his wrist.
Pretty expensive.
Wearing that to the docks? Getting it cleaned afterward would probably cost a fair bit.
"Who are you looking for?"
"You."
Arthur slung his jacket over his shoulder, studied the face before him, and recognized it.
"Bruce Wayne?"
"Is there somewhere we can talk?"
Arthur tipped his head toward the little house onshore, waited for the fishermen to secure the boat, and led Bruce inside.
A fire burned inside, and several nautical charts lay weighted down on the table. Arthur picked up the wet clothes on the back of a chair, hung them beside the stove, sat down, and pulled the charts closer.
Bruce set his terminal on the table.
"You've rescued people at sea and handled things ordinary people couldn't. I'd like you to come to Gotham. They need help there."
Arthur looked at the silhouettes of ships on the screen, his knuckles resting at the edge of the table.
"Those things in the sky?"
"The same fleet. Superman and Wonder Woman stopped the first wave. There will be more attacks."
Arthur unfolded a nautical chart and traced a shipping route with his finger.
"Some boats here haven't come