Rita was asleep when the alarm went off.  But this wasn’t her alarm clock.  These days, she didn’t even set that alarm.  This was an emergency signal, and an old one at that.

Even asleep, and even through the changes to her hearing, Rita recognized the sound,  It was a Doom Patrol emergency call, and on old one at that.  As old as it was, it had to be from either Larry or Cliff.  Gar would be using more modern technology, and if it was Dayton, she’d let him deal with it himself.  Same for the Chief, if he somehow sent it.  No one else had been in the patrol at the time this signal device was used -- at least, as far as she knew.  She had, after all, died when it was still in use.

Rita literally pulled herself together quickly, assembling the protoplasm that was her body into her human shape.  She knew the call would be urgent.  She had to at least find out what was going on.  If it was Cliff or Larry, she had to be ready to act.

She stretched an arm over to the device and hit the button.  The voice that came through was clearly Cliff’s.

“S.O.S.  Anyone hearing this, please respond to these coordinates.” the voice said.  It didn’t give coordinates.  Rita knew they were encoded within the signal itself.

Rita hit an automatic reply button, but said nothing.  She had an airship on hand, a small one Gar had gotten for her surreptitiously from some incarnation of the Titans or Young Justice, and used it to respond to the call, inputting the signal from the device directly into the piloting computer.

Rita had used her remaining funds from her old Olympic endorsements, her brief Hollywood career and her successful lawsuit over the damages she suffered at the hands of the film producers when she got her powers, along with money from her divorce settlement with Steve Dayton, to buy the private island.  There she lived, alone except fot occasional visits from Gar, Cliff or Karen.  She even kept a dollhouse set up in a guest bedroom so Karen would have a to-scale place to stay.

The airship quickly arrived at the coordinates.  It was a location on the U.S. West Coast, somewhere in northern California.  There, hovering over Cliff, was Chemo, the old Metal Men adversary.

Cliff looked bad.  Chemo had used its chemical abilities to spray various damaging chemicals on Robotman’s metallic parts.  He was missing an arm, and a lot of his shell looked either badly rusted or melted.  Rita quickly realized Cliff was nearing the end of his ability to protect his human brain, let alone help anyone inland, where Chemo appeared ro be bound.

Rita set the airship to hover and dived out, growing as she went down.  She planned to grab Chemo from behind at as large a size as she could reach, and just crush its shell or rip it in two.

She hadn’t counted on the fact that Chemo’s senses worked like hers.  Even without facing her, it saw her on the way down.  It assessed the threat and immediately sent a chemical spray Rita’s way.

Cliff had spotted her, too.  “Rita!  Dodge!”  he shouted.

In her years with the Doom Patrol, Rita had learned a lot about free-falling.  She successfully maneuvered sideways as she came down, but was such a big target that the spray from Chemo sliced through her entire left side from the neck down, burning it right off.

“RITA!” Cliff screamed.

Rita was falling in two pieces.  The part that had been hit with the spray was coming down hard as a blob of protoplasmic goo, but the other section was regrowing the human parts it had been missing and continuing on its downward path.

“I’ve had enough of you!” Rita said as she came down beside Chemo.  She grabbed Chemo’s head and twisted.  When that had no effect, she grew a fingernail through its “eye socket” and flipped open its head, then squeezed its torso.  She was still growing as she tossed the shell of the chemical monster into the air., separating it from its chemical innards.  Unlike her, it needed its shell to function.

Rita shed the toxified fingernail and went to her old partner in peril.  “Cliff!” she yelled.  “Are you OK?”

“I am now,” Cliff said.  :”What about you?”

“Well, having that big a chunk of me sliced away is traumatic psychologically, but I’m used to psychological trauma,” Rita said. 

“Can’t you just, you know, reattach it?”  Cliff asked.

Rita was using a signal device to call the airship.  “Not after what Chemo did to it,” she said.  “I’m afraid that part of me is dead.  But then, thanks to that scumbag the Chief, I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”  She didn’t try to hide the bitterness in her voice.

As the ship landed on autopilot, Rita scooped Cliff up.  “So, what brings you here?”

“Aah, I was checking with a so-called cybernetics expert out here when Chemo turned up,” Cliff said.  “I was hoping he could help me get some updated parts, or something more human-looking, at least, but, bo such luck.  He’s not as good as his rep.”

“So, where do you want me to take you?” Rita asked.

‘I’d shrug if my shoulders still worked,” Cliff said.  “With the Chief gone, I don’t know a lot of people who could work on me and would be willing to do so.  “We’ve built up a lot of bad will over the years with the Patrol.”

Rita strapped Cliff into a chair.  “OK, we’ll take you back to my place,” she said.  I’ve got some spare stuff for you there in case we had an emergency like this.  I knew you might need to count on an old friend.”

“Wow, you think of everything,” Cliff said.

Rita scowled.  “I had to,” she said.  “The Chief thought he’d thought of everything, and look what he cost us.  I can’t let that happen to anyone again.”

The ride was silent for awhile.  Then Rita said, “You know, Cliff, I’ve heard you want to die.  Is that why you threw yourself at Chemo?”

“Partly,” Cliff said.  That, and there were innocent people in the way.  I was hoping it would be another Codsville.”

Rita remembered the village for which she’d died.  Her actions had saved it at the cost of her own life - or, at least, the life of Rita 1.0.  She was both the one and only Rita Farr in one sense and Rita 2.0 in another, and the dichotomy ate at her all the time.

“So, if you wanted to die, why send the emergency signal?” Rita asked.

I wanted to die,” Cliff said.  “But I wasn’t able to stop Chemo from endangering the people nearby, just slow him down.  I sent out the call early, figuring I could keep him tied up for awhile and then work with whoever showed to get him stopped.  Thankfully for the nearby residents, you showed up when you did.”

“Well, we’ll be back to my place in a jiff,” Rita said.  “As much as you can, relax and enjoy the ride.”

“Thanks, Rita,” Cliff said.  “I won’t impose for too long.”

Rita took a deep breath.  “Actually, Cliff, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to stay awhile.  I’m not the recluse type, and you’re my best friend these days.”

“What about Karen?” Cliff asked.

“She’s a great friend,” Rita said, “but she’s not got the years with me that you do.  You’ve seen me at my best and worst, and I’ve seen you the same way .. And, the truth is, I still like spending time with you.”

Cliff tried to smile.  “Same here, kiddo,” he said.

“Besides, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about, once you’ve got yourself put together,” Rita said.  “A proposition, you might say.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Cliff said.  “Let me get myself reassembled , and then we can talk.”

Back at the beach,  the goo of protoplasm and chemicals that had been half of Rita 2.0 was moving.  It was going inland as the tide came in.