Dick caught his arm, hard as a steel pole with tension. Garth 
turned, eyes gone darker than storm clouds. 

"That creature killed her," he hissed through clenched teeth, "it 
poisoned our waters and she died strangling." He tightened his fist 
and Chemo screamed, a bubbling choked sound, steam beginning 
to rise from its translucent containing skin.

"I know." Dick held on, eyes pleading. "I understand, I do. If the 
Joker's neck had been in my hands after he shot Babs--"

"I've never understood why he's still alive," Garth said in a remote 
tone, and Chemo screamed again in counterpoint.

"Because we don't do this. We can't. She wouldn't have wanted 
you to--"

But that was a mistake, and Dick knew it the moment he said it. 

"Tula led an army to the defense of our city. She did not, I promise 
you, use the flat of her sword." He glanced back, almost casually, 
at the writhing, churning figure. "More to the point, this creature 
killed an adopted daughter of the royal house of Poseidonis. As a 
representative of my king and country I have the right and 
responsibility to carry out just punishment for the crime."




Garth, tired. "It will reform again eventually."

"Not the point. The point is...you would have killed Chemo even if 
he'd been human. Mortal."

Garth's quiet reply. "Yes."