The Legends of Forever by Barry Lyga (free children's ebooks online .TXT) 📗

part he never really thought about it. But at least once a day, he would try to bite into something or he would run his tongue along his teeth . . . and the gap surprised him every single time. That must be what it felt like for Madame Xanadu, though without the knowledge that the hole would be filled by a new tooth in due course. She would miss that tooth forever.

Standing, he put a hand on Caitlin’s shoulder. “Please take care of her, OK? She’s important to me, and when I get back from the End of All Time, my first order of business is to make sure she’s settled somewhere and as happy and as healthy as possible.”

Caitlin smiled up at him. “You’d make a good doctor, Barry Allen.”

“Never as good as you,” he told her.

Just then, White Canary and Heat Wave marched into the Cortex. Marched was the wrong word—Sara padded in on tiger’s feet; Mick stomped in as though crushing scorpions in his path.

“We’re going with you, Twinkle Toes,” Mick announced. Coming in behind them, Ray struck what he believed to be a confident, tough pose and nodded in solidarity.

“I’m sorry?” Caught off guard, Barry stalled by sipping from his coffee mug.

“What Mick is trying to get across in his usual subtle way,” Sara said, “is that we want to join you and Oliver and Superman when you go to the future.”

Barry and Caitlin glanced at each other, communicating volumes in a split second. Caitlin, whose back was to the two Legends, pursed her lips and widened her eyes in an expression of No. Freakin’. Way! Facing them, Barry tried to be more politic.

“Guys, I really appreciate that, but we don’t even know if there’s a there where we’re headed. You don’t have any powers—”

“Neither does Oliver.”

“Yeah,” Mick agreed, and essayed a very clumsy, very insulting mime of firing an arrow. “You gonna trust your back to some Robin Hood wannabe?”

“Look, I don’t—”

“No, you look.” Sara advanced and jabbed a finger at him. “We lost team members to this enemy. Zari may never wake up. And the others—Nate, Charlie, Mona, John—we don’t know where or when they ended up. No one has more at stake here than us. We’re the last three standing Legends, the only ones left from the original team, and there is no way in hell we’re letting you take the fight to the enemy without us at your side. We deserve it. We’ve earned it.”

Barry flicked his gaze to Mick, who crossed his arms over his chest. “Too many words,” he intoned. “We’re going. Not up for debate.”

“You can science up some gear for us,” Sara pointed out. “I know the Legion gave you guys some tech to survive in space. We’ll take that, plus any sort of weapons you guys can put together. You do this stuff all the time.”

“Usually Cisco puts together custom equipment for us. We don’t have any . . .” A thought occurred to Barry. “Have you ever used a lariat before?”

Sara regarded him quizzically. “The League of Assassins trained me in all sorts of weaponry. Including, yeah, ropes. Why?”

Barry grinned.

Along with Superman and Oliver, Barry convened a meeting with Sara, Mick, and Owlman in the Safe Lab, where Cisco conducted experiments on the worst, most unknowable forms of metals and alloys, disassembled and puzzled out the inner workings of the most wicked weapons from the evilest villains, and fabricated his own dangerous tech. The room was lined with lead, steel, and two feet of concrete. It could be isolated from the rest of S.T.A.R. Labs in an instant, its ventilation cut off at the flick of a switch. It was, as Cisco had once said, a panic room in reverse—you ran from here when things went wrong.

On a workbench were two Danger Boxes, forged of a rare metal called promethium that was resistant to most ammunition and energy weapons. Barry and Cisco locked up the ultra-hazardous in them. Cisco called the things that went into the Danger Boxes Bad Toys.

Without preamble, Barry opened the first one. Its door clicked open, revealing the first Bad Toy: Superwoman’s lasso.

“We need some super-gear for our friends,” Barry said to Owlman. “White Canary is an expert in all forms of combat and weaponry. Is there any reason you can think of why she shouldn’t be able to use this?”

Owlman stroked his jaw, considering. “You could wield the lasso. There’s nothing dangerous to a practiced user. It’s technological and comprehensible. Simple mental control through physical contact.”

“In other words,” Sara said, “I can make it do stuff as long as I’m touching it.”

“Why can’t eggheads ever just spit it out?” Mick growled.

Sara picked up the lasso. At the touch of her flesh, it seemed to come alive, illuminating in a steady golden glow along its length. She expected it to feel warm, but instead her hands chilled, as though the thing were leeching her heat to power itself.

“Can you use it?” Oliver asked.

Sara grinned. She tried a quick twirl and the lasso obeyed, requiring only the slightest of muscle movements on her part. Then, with a thought, she cracked it like a whip, snapping a beaker off a nearby shelf, sending it hurtling against a wall, where it shattered into a million pieces.

“I’d say I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’m finding it really hard to be.”

Flash shrugged. “We can get more beakers.” He turned to Owlman. “What about the ring?”

For the first time ever, Owlman held up his hands in a defensive posture, stepping back from the second Danger Box. “No. Not the ring. Look, I’m fearless, but that thing scares even me. Have you seen what it did to Power Ring?”

Sara and Oliver had already wandered off to test Sara’s new toy. Mick leaned against a table, idly picking between his teeth with a scalpel he’d found lying around. So Barry pulled Superman back a couple of feet.

“What do you think?” he whispered to the Man of Steel. “Is he just trying to scare