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#7
DEC 06 |
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“Signs & Portents”
Metropolis, Delaware
The pigeon stood on the brick ledge of the window; its black, beady eyes stared through the window and ignorantly observed the commotion inside. Reporters rushed around each other, the rustle of papers and thudding footfalls on the ceramic tile created a constant white noise that was as much a part of the room as anything else.
Nobody seemed to notice the silent observer, except for one man who could not ignore the creatures ‘coos’ or constant distracting head movements for a minute longer. He looked away from his computer screen for the seventieth time, and contemplated if anybody would notice him throw a pencil across the room at supersonic speed and knock the flying trash bag from its perch.
“What’s buggin’ you, Clark?”
“Hrm?” Clark Kent spun his head around so fast that he tilted his glasses and he adjusted them back to fit comfortably on his nose. “Oh, nothing Jimmy. What’s up?”
Jimmy plopped a stack of papers onto Clark’s desk and pointed to them with a sense of importance. “I figured you’d need to look at this,” Jimmy instructed. “Things are starting to heat up across the pond.”
Clark surveyed the information in front of him, pretending to read it. Of course he already knew what Jimmy was trying to teach him. The small, war torn nation of Pokolistan had been in revolution with itself for ages. It seemed as if something had begun to happen that would lead the country to a resolution to the internal conflicts. To Clark, it all seemed fishy.
“Looks like the Pokolistanis found themselves a leader,” Jimmy said. “The insurgents are displaying a new flag and everything. Nobody’s heard from Presidente Barsharak in days.”
Clark thought about that for a moment: a new leader of a struggling country, a missing head of state, a new flag that looked vaguely familiar... More seemed to be happening within the last week in the nation of Pokolistan than had happened within the last ten years of constant conflict. Perhaps this needed investigating.
“Are we sending anyone over there to cover this, Jimmy?” Clark asked, hoping to have a reason other than the obvious ones to him as Superman to travel into foreign soil.
“Not yet,” Jimmy replied. “But I’ll bet you twenty bucks that Perry’s just about ready to give you a plane ticket and an international press pass.”
As if on cue, Perry White, editor in chief of the Daily Planet, burst through his office doors as he always did. He had a flair for the dramatic entrance, even after all of these years. Everyone was used to it by now, but he still liked to do it. He thought it kept people on their toes.
“Kent!” Perry announced. He lumbered over to Clark’s desk and dropped two tickets onto the pile of papers that Jimmy had given him moments ago. Clark smiled and reached for his wallet, taking out a twenty and handing it to Jimmy.
“Pokolistan in two days,” Perry White went straight to the point. “Take Olsen with you. Get pictures of this new regime leader. We got three U.N. security officers accompanying you just in case things get mucky.”
“We can take care of ourselves,” Clark said.
“Yeah right, Kent,” Perry chuckled. He turned to walk away before he remembered something else important to say.
“Don’t forget about your interview with Talia Head this afternoon,” he reminded. “It took us three months to clear a spot on her schedule and we need to get the lowdown on her involvement in LexCorp since that shiny headed bastard went to the Oval Office.”
“Haven’t forgotten a thing, Perry,” Clark stated. “I’ll take Jimmy with me over there too. I know how much he likes Ms. Head.”
Jimmy blushed a bit but did not deny Clark’s claims.
LexCorp Towers
New Troy
Commuters flooded the sidewalk in front of the towering LexCorp building that sat on the edge of Metropolis’s New Troy district. It was a symbol of the commerce and business that made the district famous and attractive to the thousands of people that worked there. It wasn’t unusual for many high rollers, or even celebrities, to be seen in New Troy, but people still paused for a moment to capture a look at who was the next person to grace the city with their presence.
When a long black limousine pulled out of traffic and slowed to a stop, the people in between the skyscraper and the vehicle paused in their actions, curious to who they were going to see. However, the dark black tint that covered the windows prevented the identity from being disclosed.
Then, as a man walked between the cluster of people having spent minutes waiting in front of the building for the car to arrive and pulled open the rear door, everybody felt anxiety wash over them.
A long, silky slender, well-toned leg crossed the threshold and settled the black leather high heal shoe onto the sidewalk. It was joined seconds later by another leg that swept through the air with grace. Then a hand reached out and was taken by the man who had opened the car door, who held the woman’s hand as she stepped out of the car and stood.
Approvingly, to many of the male onlookers, the woman wore a skintight black dress that ended inches below her knees. A slit ran along the side so high that you could see the thread of her thong run across the top of her leg. The top was cut to show an ample amount of cleavage, with spaghetti thin straps over her slender smooth shoulders. Her brown hair draped in front of her face, covering one of her exotic eyes, and shone bright in the sunlight.
She was Talia Head, the daughter of the estranged immortal Ra’s Al Ghul, and the current CEO of LexCorp.
Nobody that had paused to look at this exotic beauty could tell from the graceful way she walked, or from her deceptively slender frame, that this woman was an excellent marksman with any pistol and a world-class expert with every bladed weapon. It was a façade Talia created long ago to deceive and manipulate other people for her father’s maniacal plots, not realizing that she was also being manipulated in the process. She still loved her father, and that much would never change; what did, however, was that she no longer did the bidding of her father.
She was the sole manipulator now.
Even her once beloved Batman, another who used her just to counter-move her father, could go to Hell now.
When the doors to LexCorp closed behind Talia, the commuters outside instantly went about their business as if nothing happened.
“Are they here?” she asked, her accent softly accentuating her voice.
Apparently knowing what his boss was asking about, the man nodded his head. “They are waiting upstairs, Ms. Head.”
Without further dialogue, she walked to the private elevator that was already open and waiting for her. The elevator operator stood inside and closed the doors once Talia stepped inside. “Your office, Ms. Head?” he asked, never taking his attention away from the panel.
“Yes, Vincent.”
He pushed the button and turned the key to allow the elevator to begin its ascent to the top floor.
“Man, I wish Lois didn’t have to miss this,” Jimmy Olsen said as he crossed his legs and leaned deeper into the plush leather couch that was placed outside of the office doors. He fidgeted with the camera, checking and rechecking the lens every five seconds. “How often do we get to be in the LexCorp building?”
Clark Kent, for his part, was relatively calm. When the Daily Planet’s Editor-in-Chief Perry White got the official invitation to report on the current operations of LexCorp, he wasted no time in getting one the newspapers top reporters over to the skyscraper, and Clark wasted little time to accept. Any other time this would be the last place in the world I’d rather be. I’ve had more dealings in that office than you could imagine, Jimmy, but it’s not very often I get such a legit way to see what Luthor has up his sleeve. “I’m sure Lois will be kicking herself over it later, but she’s too busy in DC covering Luthor’s actions on Bialya.”
Jimmy’s leg began to twitch next to Clark, quickly getting on his already jumpy nerves for being in a place that had, and probably would continue to, represent so much trouble for him. His hand shot out like a cobra striking and clamped onto the photographers leg. “Jimmy, please calm down,” he said, offering him a sympathetic look showing he understood the anxiety he felt. After all, high profile reports don’t get dropped in your lap everyday.
Their waiting came to an end seconds later with the dinging of the elevator and the opening of the double doors revealing the entrance of LexCorp’s CEO. “Please, follow me into the office.”
Talia’s exotic accent was almost as hypnotic as her body movement as she walked past the reporters. So much so that it would take a pinch that would bruise the next day on Jimmy’s arm for Clark to break the photographer out of his trance.
Clark ignored the quiet hissing from Jimmy’s lips as he quickly rubbed the sore spot on his bicep. He liked to think he could read people by their body language, but as Clark looked at Talia move with such a natural grace, he got conflicting tells. The moves were soft enough to give Clark a sense of comfort; certainly nothing like the mistrust that radiated off of Lex Luthor. Still, it was clear that somewhere hidden in those moves was a predator.
I’ll have to call Bruce later and get his impressions on Talia. He’s dealt with her, and her father, enough times to know if I’m swapping one evil in Luthor for another in Ra’s, Clark thought as he walked into the all too familiar office formerly occupied by Luthor.
He had to admit he was impressed. The blood red carpet was replaced with a nice dark green one, flowing curtains now accented the large picture windows that surrounded the room, the once Spartan area was covered with lush potted plants, and colorful paintings, rather expensive by Clark’s estimate, adorned the walls.
It almost felt different. He hoped that future dealings with Talia would go farther to change his feelings.
“We appreciate you making time in your busy schedule for us, Ms. Head, and the chance to interview you and get a general feeling of your time in office and the dealings of the company under your tenure,” Clark said as Talia pulled the thick black leather chair away from the large mahogany desk and sat down.
Part of Clark just had to smile at the chair. Some things never change.
Talia smiled and motioned for the two to sit, an offer Jim Olsen was quick to accept, before replying. “You’re most welcome, Mr. Kent. I understand that the impression of LexCorp is a rather positive one amongst the general populace, but the impression with the superhero community, and more importantly the media, isn’t. I could not pass up the opportunity to change that impression and assure that there is little to worry about.”
“I would be lying if I disagreed,” Clark confirmed.
“Naturally, Mr. Kent.”
“As you know, I took over as the Chief Executive Officer of LexCorp when Mr. Luthor was elected President. During that time I’ve done everything possible to increase stock prices and quiet the whispers about the supposed ‘criminal’ nature of the company. I’m certain you can understand how difficult that can be when you’re the daughter of Ra’s Al Ghul.”
“I honestly wouldn’t be too worried, Ms. Head…”
“Talia, please, call me Talia.” The way her named rolled off her tongue was almost hypnotic enough for Clark to get lost in her charm. Jimmy was totally hooked minutes ago.
Clark smiled and nodded his head. “Talia. I wouldn’t be too worried because the media and the general public have a relatively short memory these days,” he shifted in his chair. “So, I guess we should start with the projects your company is working on right now.”
Talia leaned back in her chair. “When I took over for President Luthor there were many wildly different and innovative projects already years in development. To my surprise much of Luthor’s focus was on extraterrestrial technology. Billions of dollars have been funneled into unlocking the secrets of a whole cache of devices he has acquired over the years. It was supposed to be a secret, but with the amount of money dedicated to these projects it was easily traceable.” She mused for a moment and brushed a lock of hair off of her eye. “Though, after he left, I get the feeling Lex wanted this work disclosed. All of the locks on the computers have been left opened.”
She smiled. “But, as you can imagine it’s still left to my discretion what becomes public and what does not.”
“Of course, Talia, with the high level of corporate competition one must still be able to maintain a certain amount of secrets. However, I’m sure our readers appreciate such candor about the secrets you must keep.” Clark adjusted his glasses. “Have you been able to figure out where this alien technology came from, or who it belongs too?”
When she shook her head it had the same effect as a cobra snake putting a trance on its prey. “Even if I did know, Mr. Kent, I’m sure you understand that I cannot disclose that,” Talia leaned closer to them like she was ready to tell a secret. It offered Jimmy Olsen a healthy eyeful of cleavage. “Off the record, though, our scientists haven’t been able to discern that. We suspect it came from a long dead world not widely known.”
Clark’s forehead wrinkled. “If you couldn’t tell me where these devices came from, then why tell me off the record you don’t know?”
“I want for there to be an open relationship with the media, Clark, especially with The Dailey Planet, which remains a very influential news service in today’s television driven media.”
“If you’re looking for us to be a propaganda machine…”
Talia raised her hand that smoothly flowed into a slender, yet deceptively well toned arm. “I’m afraid you are getting the wrong impression of me. I’m not looking for propaganda. If I recall correctly Lex’s propaganda backfired on him more than a couple times, and it forced him to create more spin in his favor.”
“And now he’s the President of the free world. More proof of the general publics short term memory,” Clark shot back.
The Arabian-descended woman quickly flew her fingers across a keyboard next to her. “Here, in an interest of good will I will disclose to you, for publication, the details of a project that we’ve been working on for over five years. We haven’t been able to get the device to work, but nearly four years ago our scientists did manage to get it to power up for a few minutes.”
She reached over and spun the twenty-one inch flat panel monitor around so the reporters could see it. With Clark’s approval Jimmy snapped a few digital pictures of the blueprints that were on the screen.
“Right now we are currently stumped to what this device does, or its purpose,” Talia explained. “It is the most complicated piece of technology in our laboratories along with other pieces from a world dubbed ‘Apokolips’. The Metropolis SCU confiscated many things from the now defunct Intergang and we won the contract to examine those pieces.”
Talia kept on talking, but her words were falling on deaf ears as Clark looked and examined the oddly familiar print. When the screen scrolled a tiny bit up a picture was revealed and Kal-El was forced to hide his shock.
Lex Luthor was in possession of a Phantom Zone Projector!
The White House
Washington D.C.
The Press anxiously sat in their carefully arranged chairs absent mindedly keeping themselves busy by tapping their pencils on pads of paper, or checking the tape in their recorders, or just chewing on anything they could find, be it a pen, pencil or paper clip while others chatted energetically into their cell phones to their editors.
From the navy blue curtains to the right of the podium an attractive blonde-haired woman stepped out and walked over to address the waiting reporters. As she stepped to the podium in front of the Presidential Seal, Press Secretary Catherine Grant felt a slight bit nostalgic when she scanned the press and momentarily locked eyes with an old colleague from Metropolis.
“Good Afternoon. Today we are here to address the actions the President has sanctioned for the nation of Bialya. He will outline his expectations for this offensive, and after this speech the President will field some questions from the press.”
Cat Grant said no more and stepped away from the podium as President Luthor took her place after entering through the curtain. Vice President Pete Ross followed, but he stood off to the right about two steps behind. The Press started to buzz, but Luthor raised a hand and glared at them with piercing emerald eyes.
It didn’t take long for them to quiet.
“Thank you,” he began. “As many of you are aware is it now two years since I gave the order to invade the country of Bialya following their attacks on the United States, and their invasion of Turkey. We have since driven their forces out of Turkey, and our investigations into the terrorists rings once harbored there have provided our services with information vital to the pursuit of those who would further attack us,” Luthor said without hinting to the recent Suicide Squad missions in Germany and Russia.
Lex Luthor, on principle, hated enlisting meta humans for anything. However, the Suicide Squad proved useful for maximum carnage and complete deniability. The bright side too was that if any of the ‘volunteers’ in this Squad didn’t return home it was of little concern to him.
“In order to weaken Bialya’s communications, the United States has disrupted all of the former Bialyan government’s installations. We have also captured, or eliminated, many of the country’s corrupt generals as a means of eroding their flow of leadership, including the capture of Colonel Aayan Harjavti. These men we fight are often called, by the sympathetic, freedom fighters.” Luthor paused. “I cannot help but to agree. They are freedom fighters, because that is exactly what they fight against: freedom. Though they hide behind their claims of freedom, these people are terrorists, and they must and will be stopped.”
“Our way of life was attacked by those who hate us, and make no mistake, my administration will bring the evil-doers to justice. Let us send our enemies a message. The United States will not bow to terrorism. To those who wish to hurt us, I say, your days are numbered.”
“Now, I will field some questions.” Lex scanned the room to choose a reporter. It was not lost to Luthor that Lois Lane was present.
A stocky man with graying hair stood from his chair. “What are you doing about uprisings in Bialya concerning the country’s concerns about being occupied by American forces?”
“Naturally, we have faced adversity, but it was from those who opposed our presence from the start. The general populace has welcomed our troops with open arms, and before we wear out our welcome I hope to help Bialya install a government with popular, and influential, Bialyan’s-In-Exile that have fled the region for fear of persecution over conflicting ideals of politics and human rights under Harjavti’s regime. At this point, due to reasons of security, we are not in a position to disclose any of their identities, but they will be faces Bialya will trust.”
Some other man stood and asked a follow up. “Wasn’t our original strategy to withdraw their forces from Turkey? How did that evolve into removing the Harjavti’s regime, and giving the Bialyan’s freedom? It is on record that the United Nations does not agree with our current handling of affairs.”
“Yes, our original goal was to remove their forces from Turkey, but we recognized an opportunity and we seized it. By simply forcing Aayan Harjavti to remove his forces from Turkey we would not have solved the larger problem, and we could have been forced to return to the region, to waste more time, money and, more importantly, disrupt the lives of Americans. Frankly, the United Nations is not fighting this war, we are, with American lives, and we would have again in the future had we not solved this problem now.”
Lex Luthor’s blood chilled when he saw Lois Lane stand.
“What do you hope the United States will gain out of this whole affair? With nearly a thousand troops dead, and six thousand wounded, the cost of this war feels pretty high to be fighting another country’s war for them.”
Luthor never visibly flinched, but he could have pulled the top of the podium off with his bare hands.
“Having a stable Middle East benefits more than just the United States. Keeping rogue nations in check curbs those that would seek to disrupt their country’s stability. By protecting another country’s sovereignty we show a sign of strength and build goodwill by showing that we care about more than our own personal interests. The long term benefits of our actions in this, and past years, can hardly be measured right now.”
The President took a step back and made a tiny motion for Catherine Grant to move in, then he promptly disappeared behind the curtain with the Vice President in tow. She flicked a lock of curly golden hair out of her face. “The President thanks you for your attendance, but he has other matters that require his attention at this time.”
Luthor swiftly strode to the Oval Office, various Secret Service agents stepping aside to allow him to pass uninterrupted. He didn’t say a word to anybody until the door closed behind him and the Vice President.
Then he slammed his palm on the surface of the large square table that sat in the middle of the room. The crack echoed in the oval room.
“How dare that woman stand in front of me and question the manner in which I lead the most powerful nation in the world! How dare she question my integrity in front of those…insects!” He yanked the top of his tie loose, releasing the choking pressure around his neck.
Pete Ross jammed his hands into his pants pockets. “In all fairness, Lex, I really didn’t think the question was that unfair. Mrs. Lane is a reporter, it’s her job to ask the hard questions.”
“Job?!” challenged Lex. “Her job is to question mine right in front of the country? She wasn’t concerned with what the United States will gain, she was concerned with what I would gain.” He shook his baldhead. “You may be friends with her and her husband, but you do not know her like I do. When I lived in Metropolis, Lois Lane made it her duty to hound me and cook up any conspiracy she could think of to implicate me. Anything that happened for that city, good or bad, she made sure I took the credit for my own agendas.”
“Just like this stupid war.” Lex sighed. I used to think Lois was an intriguing, strong and focused woman. Now, I may have to reevaluate my opinion, he thought as he dropped down into his chair. “I hoped that Washington D.C. would have put enough space between us. Now, I don’t think Pluto would be far enough away from her.”
“Might not work. Pluto’s not a planet anymore.” Peter Ross grinned trying to alleviate the tension.
Lex couldn’t help himself and smiled slightly. “Yes, you’re right. I might need to make a new planet just to move there.” With a renewed vigor Lex leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “So, Mister Ross, what’s our next order of business?”
Metropolis
The revolving doors of the LexCorp tower spun ushering Clark Kent out on to the bustling sidewalk of New Troy where he smoothly merged into the flow of people. Jimmy Olsen followed seconds behind, nearly colliding with a hot twenty-something year old brunette girl who ignorantly carried on, drowned obliviously into the music pouring out of her iPod ear buds.
“’Scuse me!” Jimmy called out, but wasn’t surprised when she didn’t reply. “I don’t get people in this city sometimes, Clark.” The photographer didn’t get a reply so he looked over to his friend and could tell he was light years away. “What’s up?”
Clark shook his head. “I dunno, Jimmy, the meeting with Talia got me wondering what she’s playing at. Lex Luthor never talked to the press unless he had something to gain from it. What does Talia gain?”
Jimmy shrugged. “I think she gains a public identity different from Lex. Talia gets the chance to establish herself in the role of LexCorp’s CEO.”
“You’re probably right,” Clark pursed his lips. “I’m just not used to so much disclosure. Everything Talia told us got my mind working.” He never knew the full extent of Luthor’s resources, but seeing him with Kryptonian technology in his possession unsettled him greatly.
“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting isn’t it?” Jimmy asked as they approached the 2006 Cadillac STS-V owned by The Daily Planet for use by reporters in the field.
“That’s one way of putting it…” Clark wasn’t sure he agreed. He looked at his reflection in the gray paint and saw the doubt in his face.
Pokolistan
He hovered roughly fifteen feet off the stone floor of his cavernous throne room. Such space was why he chose this ancient castle – even if the style was totally ugly and foreign to him – to allow his flight to remain largely unfettered. His powerful arms were casually behind his back and hidden by the white cape that stretched over his shoulders and fluttered in the gentle breeze that rolled in through the grand stone window that stretched from the floor and nearly touched the ceiling in a peak.
The blessed sun hung in the sky shining with a brilliance that would make most men turn their eyes away. Those steel blue eyes never wavered. The solar rays beat down on the earth and bathed him with comfortable warmth on the black skin biosheath that covered his whole body except for his head, and dulling the artificial electric blue glow of the varied geometric shapes that hovered off his arms.
His gaze reached far beyond the horizon that stretched out in front of him to survey his territory. His ears could hear a baby sigh from miles away and he observed the infant’s mother ready to nurse. His gaze shifted and he angered. Before being exiled from his native world he was a member of an ancient, and thought extinct for thousands of years, religion that worshipped the red sun Rao as God. The thought that this alien star bestowed upon him powers rivaling those of a God, while his native star did nothing, infuriated him.
Earth was an interesting place he had to grudgingly admit. Compared to his own barren world, decimated by a centuries old war, Earth was a paradise undeserving of the weak willed and chaotic humans that populated it. Introduced with a little order maybe he could reproduce his worlds old paradise here.
On the other end of the throne room an attractive, semi-transparent, brunette lady floated upwards through the floor. Once completely through she solidified and settled onto the carpet runner. “General*?” (*All speech translated from Krypontese.)
At the call the General’s senses returned to him. He turned to reveal a stylized gold symbol outlined in a gold diamond over his right breast. “Faora, what news do you have for me?”
The General slowly descended next to the lovely young lady, yet remained six inches off the floor. He hated walking when his servants bustled around him. He felt that being on their level around them gave his genetic inferiors a sense that he was somehow their equal. He was not their equal and he found that towering over them ominously reminded them of that fact, should they ever find that his broad 6’ 4” frame failed to do so.
“We arrested a loiter, General. He was discovered defacing one of the flags in the courtyard.”
An eyebrow raised and the amused General responded, “Really? Where is this man now?”
“He is being escorted up here by the Police now,” Faora replied.
Seconds later the giant wooden doors swung open. Two men dragged another between them with his arms and feet shackled. He was nothing older than twenty years old and lucky to weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds. The Police tossed him to the ground before their leader.
The General motioned to the boy in disbelief. “This? This is the man who dares defy me?”
Faora nodded once in confirmation.
The bound man raised his head, bruises covered his face and blood ran from his split bottom lip. Even though he physically looked broken his eyes reflected his steel resolve. “You…will never own us*…” he wheezed. (*Translated from Russian.)
Without reply, the skin around the unimpressed Generals eyes narrowed and a fire burned behind them until the power was released in a startling red blaze that streaked across the distance in an instant and struck the man in his chest, setting him ablaze. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile as he listened to the man’s cries as his flesh was razed with fire. Dissension would not be tolerated and yet he found that no matter how many times he commanded it, no matter how many examples – such as this wretched soul – he made, there was always one more to make.
The stench of burnt flesh permeated the air, but for the sake of their lives everybody present held their lunches down. Without waiting to be ordered the Police quickly scooped the still warm corpse up and dragged him away. Chunks of flesh remained stuck to the carpet that was soaked in bodily fluids. None of which concerned the General in the slightest.
Faora raised a hand to the biological mess and, using her powers to control matter, dissolved the flesh and the fluids, leaving the carpet as pristine as the first day it was laid into place. “I also have news that President Luthor will arrive in six hours. His arrangements have been confirmed.”
“President Luthor. The only human on this planet of interest; his little games in Bialya do not fool, nor impress me. However, I do find a twisted amusement in our game of chess.” The General turned his back to Faora and began to move away. “What of the other arrangements?”
Faora smiled. “Everything is prepared. Though, I find myself wondering why you care about arrangements for humans. I think you are doing all of this because you know he will be there.”
The General turned back to Faora with his amusement gone, but Faora was confident in her safety. “Of course he will be there. He is curious, and I am giving him the opportunity to pursue the answers to that curiosity. In turn, I myself will finally get to meet the mighty Superman and seek my own answers. By the end of the night I will know where Superman stands…and if I need to destroy him.”
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To Be Continued...
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