Summary: Clark saves the day once again.
Chronology: Early Season Six, but for story purposes, Martha Kent is a U.S. Senator, the Fortress of Solitude is functional; Chloe does not know the true identity of the Green Arrow, and Clark and Lana are still quite awkward following their breakup of their romance.
Disclaimer: Thanks to Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, and the creators and portrayers of "Smallville" for letting me play in their universe.
"You want me to go where?" Clark asked Chloe incredulously. He looked away from the purplish sunset visible from the barn loft window to stare at her.
"To the 'Conference on Manufacturing and Information Technology for the Twenty-First Century' on Mackinac Island", she replied.
Clark ran a hand through his hair. "Among my many questions – where and why?"
Chloe gave him an impish smile. "Mackinac Island is in Lake Huron, between the Upper and Lower Peninsulas of the state of Michigan."
"I bet you had to research that", he retorted.
"Well, yes, but I found out it's a pretty nice vacation spot. And get this – we'll be up there for the Lilac Festival!"
"Gee whillikers! There's a thrill!" Clark said sarcastically. "Again, why?"
"Well, that's kind of a long story." Chloe sat down on the old sofa in the loft. "You ready?"
"I have to go where?" thought Oliver McQueen as he reviewed the decrypted message on his laptop. "Where the hell is Mackinac Island?" The question was rhetorical as the full focus of his attention was on the…interesting…news on his screen.
Oliver had worked hard to get information on Luthorcorp in general, and on Lionel and Lex Luthor specifically. He was a firm believer in "Know Your Enemy", and although he didn't specifically wish to be Lex's enemy, he knew very well that Lex considered him, Oliver, to be Lex's enemy.
I saw what he is capable of, Oliver thought. He betrayed his best friend and basically killed him. As ever, Oliver winced as he remembered the part he himself had played in Duncan (last name)'s death. The guilt and responsibility will never go away; all I can do is try to do better in the future.
He knew that Lex Luthor would never forgive him for seeing the true Lex, the Lex hidden beneath the mask. Although there had been a superficial camaraderie during their time at Excelsior Prep together, it was based on their mutual guilt and shame. Lex had gone on to fame and fortune, now the Chairman and CEO of Luthorcorp; he spent a healthy sum each year buying positive spin on his image and reputation. He would hardly like the world to know of that little incident at Excelsior Prep, would he?
After the incident, when Duncan's body had been carried away to a neurosurgical suite for several ultimately futile procedures, Oliver had looked in Lex's eyes and seen the hatred. Not only the hatred for Oliver, who had witnessed Lex at his worst, but the self-hatred. And Oliver knew that Lex couldn't stand that Oliver knew.
That's why I devoted such effort to collecting information on Lex Luthor, to placing moles in Luthorcorp, to cultivating contacts in the corporate world and in less savory arenas. I've become his enemy and being the enemy of a Luthor is dangerous. Then Oliver laughed out loud. Bring on the vendetta! We'll see who's left standing at the end of the day!
Reminiscences ending, he once again viewed the message. In carefully-composed, outwardly bland prose, it alerted him to a possible worldshattering? Mindblowing? Heck, let's just call it "big" new technology or technological device which would be announced by Lex Luthor at the conference. Frustratingly, the new item was not described, implying that his contact at the Luthorcorp Research Lab found it too dangerous to even describe in a triple-encrypted, anonymized email.
That's probably why my mole there has lasted so long in such a sensitivie position, Oliver thought. Luthorcorp is pretty paranoid about their research and they don't let petty legalities on surveilling and wiretapping bother them about keeping tabs on their workers. He considered working for Luthorcorp Research Laboratories like the Roach Motel – you check in, you don't check out.
He absently did a few finger stretches and arm exercises as he considered his options. The data from his contact at LRL had a golden reliability rating – every previous message from this contact had panned out 100. The trouble was that more information was needed. The contact was extremely cautious and minimized the chance of exposure by not only encrypting and anonymizing, but by keeping the message short.
Oliver stared into space and considered his options. Slowly, a smile replaced his previous frown. "Chloe Sullivan", he said softly.
"You want to go where?" Pauline Kahn said dismissively.
"To the 'Conference on Manufacturing and Information Technology for the 21st Century'", Chloe said hopefully.
Kahn stared her in the face. "And the Daily Planet should send you to…to this place…"
"Mackinac Island", Chloe interjected helpfully.
"Wherever the hell that is", the editor snapped.
"Actually, it's in Lake Huron…"
"And why should you go when we're already sending Brad Roumpz from the Business Section and Pete Snell from the Political Section to cover this conference?" Kahn asked Chloe bitingly.
Chloe stared back, inwardly marshaling her courage. This could be a great story and a step up for me, she thought. "My sources have indicated that Luthorcorp will be introducing new technology at this conference, but so far no one has said exactly what this new technology is. The buzz is that's it's something really big, but no one seems to know all the details."
"No", Kahn said flatly.
"Ms Kahn, please think again. You know I'm a good writer –"
"Yeah, you can write obituaries with the best of them", the editor said cuttingly.
Chloe bit her lip and resumed her push. "Ms Kahn, I can't reveal my sources, but it's fair to say that some have inside knowledge of Luthorcorp. They've been more excited than I've ever heard them before. I really think there is something to this tip."
Kahn started to say something, then closed her mouth. A thoughtful expression crossed her face. After a short period (which seemed much longer to Chloe), she spoke.
"All right, Sullivan, I'll take a chance on you. You've come through before."
Yes! Chloe stood still but inwardly turned cartwheels. "All right, Ms Kahn, all I need is an expense voucher for transportation and lodging –"
"Wait a minute. We've spent our budget for this on sending Roumpz and Snell. Here's the deal, Sullivan – the Planet will continue to pay your princely intern salary and you get to Mackinac on your own. Take it or leave it." The editor gave a satisfied smile with a hint of challenge underneath the smugness.
Chloe stood wide-eyed in shock for a moment. That's not fair! She thought. For a moment, words jostled for exit at her lips. Then sober second thoughts came to her rescue. I guess life isn't fair.
She saw the surprise in Pauline Kahn's eyes as she said, "Thank you, Ms Kahn. I'll take it."
Later, after Chloe went back downstairs, she considered her options. She wasn't going to back down. She didn't dare put anything more on her credit cards. How would she pay for airfare, hotel, meals? There was no way she could ask her father, who was just financially getting back on his feet after a long bout of unemployment, for any money. Unfortunately, her friends were much in the same situation as her, with little money to spare for extras. Maybe Lana has some more 'pocket money' now that she's hanging out with Lex, but there's no way I can let any hint of this get back to Lex. She even considered, for a very short time, asking Clark to use his super-speed to take her, but ditched the idea. It's just wrong. I know he'd save me in a minute, and he helped the Toys for Tots at Christmas time, but I can't ask him to do something just to advance my career. That's pushing the friendship too far.
She mentally reviewed her friends, acquaintances, and contacts. Then a slow smile replaced her frown. "Oliver", she said musingly.
"You want me to go where?" Lex asked his father incredulously. The beautiful purplish clouds of the sunset could barely be seen through the office window blinds.
"Oh, Lex, don't be foolish", Lionel replied. "This conference on Mackinac Island has been on your planner for the past six months."
"I thought I would delegate it to you," Lex said dismissively.
Lionel frowned. "Lex, it's important that Luthorcorp have a presence there – that both of us be there. You know that the governors and senators from fourteen Midwestern states will be there, along with the chairmen and executives of the top one hundred corporations – "
"Yes. The movers and shakers," Lex said sardonically, confident in the knowledge that he was one of the biggest fish in the pond.
"It's important that we be seen, and make contacts – " Lionel continued.
"And keep tabs on our tame Congressmen, and make proper donations and promise a new plant and network with the local bigwigs and generally ensure that the right legislation gets passed or doesn't get passed."
Lionel watched Lex for a moment. "Oh, son. So cynical?" he asked sanctimoniously.
"A little too much truth?" Lex smiled.
Lionel smiled back. "You and I both know that Luthorcorp stands for good business practices and that we happily obey all relevant laws and regulations, in a shining example of good corporate citizenship."
"Right, Dad." Lex smiled again.
"By the way, I've heard rumors that you will be making an announcement about some new technology from the Information Technology Research Department?"
The smile left Lex's face as he mentally scrambled to assess what his father had heard and what he knew. "Just a new process to increase the efficiency of data transfer", he said sunnily.
"Oh, Lex, I've heard it's much more than that!" his father replied in a mock chiding voice. "I've heard comments such as big, billion-dollar, outstanding." Lionel stared Lex in the eye as he threw out provocative statements.
Lex kept his face expressionless. "Well, I suppose that this process might have hitherto unforeseen applications."
"Who's your lead researcher on that again?" Lionel probed. "You might want to give him a bonus."
"Don't worry about it, Dad, I'll make sure he's well compensated." A short pause. "Now, how are we getting to Mackinac Island?"
Lionel relaxed his intent posture as Lex changed the subject. "We'll take the Luthorcorp jet, of course. The conference is at the Grand Hotel, so we won't be staying at the vacation cottage on the West Bluff. We'll want to be in close proximity to the other attendees."
A faraway look came into Lex's eye. "It's been years since I was at the vacation cottage."
"I think the last time we were there, you were six." Lionel's voice was clipped.
"We were there with Mom –" Lex cut off. Another moment of awkward silence.
"Well, Dad, I've got a lot of work to do, and I'm sure you do too."
"Good-bye, Lex." Lionel left the office. Lex stared into space, momentarily cast back in time. He vaguely remembered blue skies, a deeper blue lake, and horses. Then he shook his head and applied himself to the day-to-day work of running Luthorcorp.
"You want me to go where?" Lana asked Lex that night at the mansion.
"Come on, Lana, you'll love it. I have to go to this," Lex assumed a pompous tone, " this 'Conference on Manufacturing and Information Technology for the 21st Century'," Lex went back to his normal tone, "and I was hoping you could go with me. I really think you'll like Mackinac Island."
Lana looked at Lex. He seemed more playful than she had seen him before.
"Why?"
"Because it's the 'truly all natural theme park of America. Limited to transportation of horse and buggy, bicycle or foot, surrounded by water, it has escaped the vast changes of time.'" Lex smiled as he read the tourist blurb.
Lana smiled too. "You seem excited about it."
"Well, I'm not really excited about the conference – just another opportunity to press the flesh and make political and business contacts – but I did go to Mackinac once when I was a kid. Did you know that no cars are allowed on the island? You have to get all your supplies carted in by horse."
Amusement washed over Lana as she considered all the supplies that a house would need (I don't know what the mansion would need, but I know what the Talon went through every week!) and the thought of a horse-drawn UPS truck. If they don't allow cars, though, I guess it wouldn't be a truck.
Lex continued. "The conference is at the Grand Hotel" -- he turned once again into Pompous Lex Reading Important Tourist Information --"'named one of the Top 100 hotels in the world. The Grand Hotel welcomes you to a bygone era of old-world hospitality and charm.' Actually, Lana, it is a five-star hotel, and maybe we can spend a little time on the island after the conference, just the two of us, together."
"That sounds good, Lex."
"If you don't want to stay at the hotel, we have a vacation cottage on the West Bluffs."
Lana looked at him. "I'm sure the hotel will be fine." A pause. "Do you have vacation homes everywhere?"
"Only in all the best places." Lex smiled at her.
"We're going where?" Lois said incredulously to Martha Kent. The eastern-facing window in Martha's office showed darkness, the light of the sunset slowly fading in the west.
"Lois, you were the one that did all the scheduling to get us the time blocked off to go to this conference on Mackinac Island", Martha chided.
"Yeah, but that was eight months ago! I totally forgot about it and I never even knew where Mackinac Island really was!"
"Well, I'm not very familiar with it, either, but as the US Senator from Kansas, I'll get a chance to meet some of the most influential businesspeople of the Midwest."
"Are you still working on General Technologies to get them to invest in a plant in Topeka?"
"What I can do is very little, Lois, but I can make contacts and give encouragement."
"I think you underestimate yourself, Mrs. Kent. You have an "in" with the Luthors, and Oliver Queen supports you too. There's not much that they agree on."
"Well, Lois, I think we have to thank you for Oliver's support." Martha gave Lois a knowing smile.
"Ollie is a pretty nice guy…" Lois floundered. "No! We like each other, but he wouldn't support you unless he felt you were the real deal."
"Well, that's flattering," Martha said. "But let's get back to the topic here. We're going next week. Think about what you want to pack. Also please work on my agenda and get me information about the other attendees."
"Mrs Kent, there are two hundred people coming!"
"I'll highlight the ones that are most important for us."
Lois sighed at the thought of the work ahead. Maybe I can get Chloe to do some of this research, she thought. What would I have to promise her in return?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Martha. "At least you won't have to worry about making flight reservations."
"What?"
"Lionel Luthor has generously offered to fly us in on the Luthorcorp private jet."
"Mrs. Kent…"
"I know you have bad memories, Lois, but I really feel I must agree to his request."
"Why?"
Martha seemed momentarily at a loss. "Well…" she said slowly. "Campaign donations and influence. Lionel gave us a lot of help with the election, and it would be churlish to refuse his request at this time."
Lois couldn't help feeling that there was something else behind Martha's reasons, but she didn't pursue the topic.
She said brightly, "OK, Mrs. Kent, flying to Mackinac on the Luthorcorp jet." Privately she resolved to ask Oliver if he could arrange something else for her – she had disliked Lex Luthor ever since he called her a "muffin-peddling college dropout", got the creeps from Lionel Luthor, and had bad flashbacks of the horrible time when she had fallen into hypoxia-induced unconsciousness and the Luthorcorp jet had crashed. I thought I'd put that Dark Thursday stuff behind me, but talking about flying in the Luthorcorp jet brings it all back.
The next day, Lois met with Chloe at the Daily Planet.
"What's up with my favorite chief of staff to Kansas' own U.S. Senator?" Chloe said playfully.
"The usual – two nights work to be done in one, trying to get everything buttoned down before we go off to the conference", Lois replied, sounding a little flustered and a lot irritated. "Chloe, can you do me a favor?"
"Always, Lois", Chloe said, all playfulness gone. The cousins always, but always, backed each other up.
"Help me with this research. Mrs. Kent needs to mingle with the bigwigs and I need to fill out my files on some of the people."
"Don't you already have files on most of them?"
"Yes, but there's going to be so many important people at this conference. I never thought that we'd be meeting some of them."
"Just a minute. Is this the 'Conference on Manufacturing and Information Technology for the 21st Century…"
"…to be held on Mackinac Island, Michigan? You've got it, cuz."
"Scuttlebutt is that a lot of corporations and politicians will be making important announcements. Is Oliver going?"
"Actually, I don't know yet – I haven't had a minute to call him lately. I've been so busy with senatorial stuff…"
"Well, Lois, here's the quid pro quo. I'll help you with this research job; you call Oliver and let me talk to him about this."
"Chloe…" Lois seemed a little reluctant.
"I'm not going to pin him down to a formal interview; I just want to meet with him and discuss it off the record."
"Chloe…I don't want to impose on his friendship…"
"I just want an introduction. I'll take it from there."
"Well, OK."
Lois passed Chloe the list of names. Chloe began running them through her computer. In the background, she heard Lois calling Oliver. For an unworthy moment, Chloe wished she had Clark's super-hearing so she could pick up on what Oliver was saying too. She tried to satisfy her curiosity by hearing Lois' end of the conversation.
"Hello, Ollie." Pause.
"I'm fine. Are you ok?" Pause.
"You know, Ollie, I'm here in Metropolis, and it's been a while since we were out to lunch together…" Pause.
"Yes, I like Thai food." Pause.
"Just one thing. I'm here at the Daily Planet with Chloe." Pause.
"Oh that's great! I know she likes Thai too!" Pause.
"OK, we'll wait for you at the back door in ten minutes." Lois ended the call.
"Well, cousin, I got you to lunch with us. It's up to you to work your wiles on Oliver."
Ten minutes later, Lois and Chloe were waiting at the back door of the Daily Planet, an entrance a lot more obscure and low-profile than the grand front doors. Chloe saw Oliver striding down the sidewalk towards them.
"Ollie!" Lois greeted Oliver with a hug and a short kiss.
"Miss Sullivan." Oliver extended his hand to Chloe.
"Mr. Queen", she replied, shaking his hand. She was impressed by the strength of his grip. It's almost as strong as Clark's, she thought.
"Please, call me Oliver. Lois has said so much about you I feel I know you already." He smiled.
"Only if you call me Chloe. And Lois has said so much about you I feel the same." She smiled back.
"I thought we might go to Bangkok Express. It's only three blocks away, and the food is excellent."
"Sounds good to me – I'm pretty hungry", said Lois.
The three of them walked briskly through the crowded streets of downtown Metropolis, making small talk. Although it wasn't obvious, Chloe noticed that Oliver was very alert to his surroundings, keeping an eye on everyone that came near them, assessing them. She noticed that Lois and herself were doing the same. I guess when you've been abducted or assaulted in the past, it makes you keep a little higher level of alertness. I wonder what's happened to Oliver? Or is this just a billionaire thing?
They made it to the restaurant without incident, and after only a short wait, were seated. Over lemongrass soup, chicken satay, and pad Thai, they made leisurely conversation. It wasn't hard to steer the topic to the upcoming conference.
"Yes, I'm going. Queen Industries has to make an appearance, and it'll add some extra cachet if I go. Are you going, Lois? I know that Mrs. Kent is going, along with the other Kansas Senator. In fact, I've heard that fourteen Midwestern states are sending their Senators and Congresspeople."
"I'm going too, Ollie. It's my job to make sure things run smoothly for Mrs. Kent." Lois stirred her soup aimlessly.
"And Chloe, is the Daily Planet having a presence there?" Oliver gave Chloe a significant glance.
"Ah, yes, Oliver, the DP is sending two reporters – both politics and business. I wish I could go – I've heard that Luthorcorp will be making a big announcement." She said teasingly, "I won't ask you what Queen Industries will be announcing at the conference."
Oliver looked at Chloe again, searchingly. She squirmed a little in her chair at the intensity of his gaze. He assumed a joking tone. "Well, that's good, Chloe, because I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." The joke fell flat. Silence. He looked away, then spoke to Lois.
"You know, Lois, I was really hoping you could travel with me in the Queen Industries jet…"
"I'd love to!" Lois jumped on the offer like a starving wolf on a fresh steak. Anything to get out of flying with creepy Lionel Luthor. And if I get to fly with Ollie, that's quite the bonus.
"Well, that's settled, then." Oliver changed the topic and spent the rest of the lunch talking about neutral subjects. He was quite a good storyteller, and soon had Chloe and Lois laughing with his anecdotes about foibles of corporate titans.
Lois picked up her purse and went to the restroom. Oliver leaned over and said, "Chloe, I was hoping that I could discuss something with you."
"Actually, I was hoping I could discuss something with you." Further conversation was cut off by the waitress bringing the check. Oliver took it as a matter of course; Chloe noticed that Oliver left a tip that was greater than the amount spent on the food.
Lois returned to the table and said, "Chloe, I've got to get back to the office. If you can work on those things for Mrs. Kent…" A significant glance at Chloe.
"Sure, Lois, I'd be glad to." Chloe fully intended to honor her bargain with Lois.
"I'll walk you back to the Capitol office building", offered Oliver. The three of them left the restaurant and ambled through the streets, replete with a good lunch and good conversation. After Lois left them to return to the Senate office building, Oliver and Chloe gave each other a short glance and began walking back to the Planet.
"I'll get right down to it, Chloe. I've heard the rumors about the Luthorcorp announcement, too, and I want you to investigate it for me."
Well, this is not what I expected, she thought. It's falling right into my hands. "Why?" she asked cautiously.
"You know that Lex and I don't get along." He smiled ruefully. "And you know it's a little dangerous to be on the wrong side of the Luthors."
It was her turn to smile ruefully. "It was by the grace of God that I got out…" she said softly. And I think Clark has a lot to do with them leaving me alone right now. I wonder if he said anything to Lionel Luthor about what would happen if the Luthorsl tried to interfere with me again? Or if it's just implied? "But Oliver, I'm not a private investigator. I'm a reporter. I'm an intern reporter." They continued walking through the June sunshine.
He turned to face her. Chloe noticed that he had angled them against a building alcove so that his back was to the wall and he could see both ways and across the street. Facing him, her back was to the street, which made her nervous. She subtly moved, forcing him to re-angle his position, so they both ended up with one side to the wall, the other side out to the street. A panhandler approached them. Oliver gave a hard glance. The panhandler flinched and moved away.
"An intern reporter who knows Lex Luthor personally, who knows me personally, who knows a US Senator personally and very well. That kind of inside knowledge is invaluable to me. I have enough private investigators on the payroll. You're different."
"My first duty is to the Daily Planet…"
"I know, and I'm not asking you to do anything unethical. I propose a deal: I get you into the conference. You do what you would regularly do – investigate things. You write the story you would write anyway. But if I know anything, I know you'll find stuff that you won't be able to print. That's the stuff I want to know."
"I can't promise to tell you things that are told to me in confidence. I've got to protect my sources."
"I respect that, Chloe. All I ask is that you tell me everything of what you feel you can tell me. I trust your judgment. I trust you."
Chloe looked at Oliver for a long moment. Did she trust him in return? Her bullshit detector wasn't going off – it had developed a high level of sensitivity over her years working at the Torch and had been honed even sharper by the weirdos and flakes she had to deal with on the phones and in person at the Daily Planet.
Mentally she reviewed what Clark and Lois had said about Oliver. It sounded as if they trusted him, at least somewhat. And I want to go to the conference. This sounds ideal. But after her previous deal with a billionaire, she was a little leery of great-sounding deals.
"As long as it's understood that it's for this conference only, and that I'll only tell you what I feel I can tell you, ethically." She put a firm tone in her voice.
"I agree." He extended his hand and they shook on it. "There's one condition…"
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
"You take Clark Kent as your partner." Now he sounded firm.
"What? Clark?" Now she was incredulous. "Why?"
Oliver looked away, seemingly embarrassed. "I know what Lex Luthor is capable of. I know that Lois has self-defense skills – do you? I don't want you to get involved in a physical fracas. I figure Clark could be your bodyguard."
Well, he'd sure be an excellent bodyguard. "Do you really think Lex would stoop to physical violence?"
"I think he'd have his minions do it so his hands were clean." Oliver's voice was cold.
You're right there. "But Clark? He's busy on the farm."
"I can't think of a person who would be a better bodyguard", Oliver said. He looked Chloe straight in the eye.
What does he know? Chloe asked herself, hypersensitive to any talk that possibly might be touching on Clark's secret. The trouble with ambiguous statements like this is that you can't really get them to expound on it. "Why do you say that?"
"Well, he's in good physical shape, and he's already got a part-time credential from the Daily Planet. I can pull some strings and get you both accredited at the conference and it won't look unusual."
"What about the farm?"
"I can get some hired hands to cover the work while you're away."
"Do you really think Clark will go for this?"
"I'll ask him to do it as a personal favor to me. It's always good to have a billionaire owing you a favor."
"That's generally true. But Clark is the last person to care about how much money a person has." Perversely, she found herself arguing against the thing she wanted to do.
"Yes. I respect Clark for that." Oliver turned away from her and resumed walking. "Chloe, I don't really expect anything to happen. But I've learned to prepare for the unexpected. Please go with Clark."
"All right." She conceded the point. Besides, that means I get to spend some time with Clark, a tempting little voice in her head said.
"Good." Oliver kept on walking. In his mind, at least, it was settled. "Expect a large envelope later on today."
She raised her eyebrows. "What?"
"I've got to give you some cash. It's better if Queen Industries isn't connected in any way with the travel reservations or hotel. We'll try to make everyone believe that the Daily Planet is bankrolling you. And you may need some untraceable money for, let's say, influencing people."
"So you want me to go. Oliver Queen wants me to go. My mother would be happy if I go. Looks like I'm going." Clark sounded a little awed by the full-court press devoted to getting him to the conference.
"Actually, Clark, I was planning on going on my own, but Oliver made it a condition that I take you. He seemed a little odd about it. He made a point of emphasizing that you were in good physical shape. Do you think he knows anything about your abilities?"
Clark stood still for a moment, avoiding Chloe's gaze. "I don't think so", he said evenly.
And I don't think you're being entirely truthful there, Clark, Chloe thought. I recognize that tone of voice. I'll have to think about this.
Dropping the topic, she said, "Well, the plan is to fly from Metropolis to Chicago O'Hare. From there we take a commuter jet to Traverse City, Michigan, then rent a car and drive up to Mackinac Island."
"It'll be a little tough to drive to an island", Clark said teasingly.
"Well, we drive to Mackinaw City on the mainland, then take the ferry to the island. Smartass."
"They wanted you to go where?" Saul Stein asked his lab partner and fellow researcher, Don Partridge. Actually, he knew already, but needed to induce conversation and this was a good topic.
"To Mackinac Island. I think it's somewhere in the Great Lakes. It was some conference. Of course I told them no. There's too much work to do in the lab." Don sounded distracted, as if he were mentally dissecting his research to-do list.
"Don. I think they meant it as an honor…" The waitress came by to take their drink orders. The moderately loud buzz of a happy hour crowd made them lean towards each other to hear better. In the background, a game show host on TV said, "Now that we've met our contestants, our categories are: "Opera Heroines"; "Treaties Throughout History"; "Chemical Elements"; "Cartoons"; and "Sherlock Holmes.""
Saul leaned nearer to Don and asked, "Have you thought about what I asked you?" He said it quietly, with no expression on his face.
"I still can't believe what you showed me, Saul", said Partridge. His expression was troubled. "But we've got all the equipment, and the software…"
"Don't worry about the equipment and the software", Saul said. "I can get that all arranged for you. I do know that even if you stay, I can't. I can't work for Luthorcorp anymore, not and retain my…my…integrity? My sanity? I don't think you'd be able to retain it, either, now that you know what I know."
Stein looked at his partner. He was still in awe at the sheer intellectual gifts that Partridge displayed. Saul knew himself to be good, but a plodder, one whose creative days had passed. Working with Don was like catching lightning in a bottle, being at the source of a fountain of ideas. He wondered if Mozart had worked with anyone, and if they had felt about Mozart the way he felt about Don.
In the background, the quiz show host read the question, "You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive." Partridge immediately said, "What were the first words that Sherlock Holmes said to Dr. Watson?" Saul looked at him and smiled – they shared a mutual appreciation of the Chronicles of the Great Detective.
That had been one of the things that helped them hit it off well right from the beginning. Saul Stein was a lifer at Luthorcorp – he had been there in the primitive computer days (when we were dealing with the technological equivalent of stone knives and bearskins) whereas Don Partridge had been there only a few years. Saul had worked his way up the Engineering and Information Technology ladder, helped by his encyclopedic knowledge of hardware, operating systems, software, and all things cybernetic/silicon/computer. He could program a firewall or solder a connection with equal facility.
Ten years ago his wife had died. They had never had children and Saul was left alone. He threw himself further into his work, and started poking around the Luthorcorp intranet. He kept himself up on all Luthorcorp projects, in his area of authority or not. For fun, and to test his hacking skills, he began looking into Lex and Lionel Luthor's semi-private files. He had found some things there that worried him. The worry grew as his curiosity could not be denied and he got deeper and deeper into the private files.
A few years ago, his faith in Luthorcorp had been badly shaken with the whole Sullivan incident. Saul had done some work at the Smallville plant, and had liked and respected the plant manager, Gabe Sullivan. They had gotten to know each other well, and Gabe had even had him over for dinner a few times. Saul had met Gabe's daughter Chloe, and had been entranced by her fire and drive. He wished that he and Laura had been able to have children and that they could have had a daughter like Chloe.
It was a shock to hear that Gabe had been fired for gross incompetence. He had done some quiet investigating and knew the charges were smoke and mirrors, but not why. Then, some time later, when Chloe testified at Lionel Luthor's murder indictment, he realized why. He accelerated his investigative efforts, but it was not totally a surprise when Gabe and Chloe were apparently killed in a safe-house explosion (how convenient for Lionel Luthor), he thought resignedly. Their miraculous reappearance a few months later had not diminished the nagging feeling that something was rotten underneath. The thought that Lionel Luthor would betray his own workers in such a manner fractured the foundation of Saul's loyalty.
Ever since then, he had been, oh so carefully, snooping around and finding out much more than the Luthors would want him to know. As he learned more, he got more…scared? (Let's just call it…nervous) about what would happen to him if Lionel or Lex found out about his unauthorized data mining. Last year, purely by chance, he had seen Chloe at a Metropolis diner. They joined each other for lunch and he found that she was now an intern at the Daily Planet. He had given a metaphorical sigh of relief and since then, had been feeding her deep background material on various ethically dubious Luthorcorp projects. He was very careful about what he gave her, and insisted that she be careful about what she wrote and what she stored on her laptop. If some of the information got out, it would lead right to him. Fortunately, Chloe had dealt with the Luthors before, and had a good appreciation of the need for airtight operational security. That girl is good at keeping secrets, Saul thought.
The waitress brought his beer, and a orange-cranberry juice for Don. In the background, the host asked the contestant, "This treaty, signed in 1918, marked the exit of Russia from World War I." Both Saul and Don said, "What is the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk?" They looked at each other and laughed.
Don said, "Moving away from everything is hard for me." He sounded semi-reluctant, as if he knew he was going to move, but dreaded the moving process itself.
Saul replied, "Don, you know it's the right thing to do." He swallowed. "Did I ever tell you about the time my father beat me?"
Don's eyes widened. "No."
Saul took a sip of beer before replying. He looked at the game show continuing on the TV. The game show host said, "She sings of her determination to be "always free", 'sempre libera', from her love, but ends up with Alfredo anyway." Saul murmured, "Who is Violetta from Verdi's La Traviata?" Then he got down to business.
"I was about eight years old. My father caught me writing a number on my wrist – I just wanted to be like him. He exploded in anger and beat me. I didn't know why at the time, but then he told me what that number signified." Thinking about it later on, he realized this explained why he had no relatives, why his father sometimes stayed up all night, and why his parents' marriage had been fraught with significant silences.
He leaned in closer to Don and spoke even more softly. "You know I've been able to search the Luthorcorp computer system more so than the average person – in fact, I did a lot of the security programming myself. You know what I showed you is true."
How true it was gave him chills. He had penetrated the deepest security yet and what he found almost made him vomit. It was data on humans – human experimentation! – humans kept prisoner on a secret floor, Level 33.1.
The data on their supposed 'powers' was certainly interesting, but he felt dirty, soiled in reading it, as if he were complicit in the gross violation of ethics committed in getting that data. He grew angry at himself for his loyalty for so long, to a corporation that would do things like this. At that moment, he knew that he could not stay at Luthorcorp. He would stay as long as it took to get airtight proof, then he would take the proof to Chloe and she would print it in the Daily Planet.
His superiors at Luthorcorp, not knowing of his extracurricular activities, had teamed him with Don Partridge two years ago. Don was a sparkling fizz, an electric arc. He had had some ideas about computer theory and design, and Saul would be the hands-on partner. Don could barely make coffee without dropping the pot, but he could describe his visions so that Saul could turn them into reality, or at least a prototype. After one particularly elegant idea had made Luthorcorp over one hundred million dollars in the first year alone, Don had carte blanche. He could ask for, and get, any equipment, lab space, research assistants, whatever he wanted. Fortunately for Saul, Don seemed to be mostly at home in his own head, and only occasionally wanted new items. He was happy in their lab and he was happy working with Saul.
Another "Jeopardy" question roused Saul from his reverie. "Sherlock Holmes' archnemesis Professor Moriarty wrote a treatise on this that only a few in Europe could understand." Saul and Don looked at each other and chorused, "What is the binomial theorem?"
Saul turned to Don and said, "I've got it worked out. You make sure the files in your laptop are up to date. I'll get the prototypes. We'll walk out of Luthorcorp. I've been speaking with Oliver Queen. He's got a lab all set up for you in Star City. Just don't say anything to anyone." He didn't say anything to Don about the virus program that would delete all copies of Don's data and experimental files on all Luthorcorp platforms.
Don said, "Can't I say goodbye to Doris and Stacey and the other transcriptionists?"
Saul said flatly, "No. It's better this way. Trust me. You can send them a card after." He didn't want to alarm Don, but he had found that a disturbing number of ex-Luthorcorp researchers had suffered accidents ranging from the inconveniencing to the (in one case, at least) fatal. Given that Don Partridge's ideas were solely responsible for a full two percent of Luthorcorp's profits last year, Saul had a feeling that Luthorcorp would be extremely sorry to see him go. I get the feeling that Lionel Luthor has a 'dog in the manger' attitude..
It was best to get out while they could and let Oliver Queen handle the security. Saul had reviewed some of the arrangements; although he was no security man, he had developed some knowledge in his years at Luthorcorp. Saul had researched Lex and Lionel Luthor's pasts carefully, and had made note of the unfriendship between the Luthors and Oliver Queen. Figuring that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and knowing he would need a protector of equal clout, he had made contact with Oliver. Saul had met Oliver only twice, under carefully screened and controlled conditions, but had gotten a good vibe from him, certainly better than the queasy feeling he got around Lex Luthor.
The legalities were not an issue. Saul had reviewed Don's contract. The noncompete clause had expired last year, and had not been renewed. Saul wasn't sure if this was an error on the part of the Luthorcorp lawyers (if they were just counting on Don being so happy in his well-equipped lab) or if Don had just never gotten around to signing the contract extension. Legally, Don was able to resign at any time, and Saul was too. On the other hand, if Luthorcorp had wished to fire either of them, Luthorcorp could have done so, giving them one month's pay in lieu of notice. Don, of course, was clueless as to the finer points of his contract. Saul felt like an older brother (a much older brother) whose job it was to guide Don through the thorny thickets of the real world, leaving Don to focus his awesome brainpower on the big theoretical questions.
He looked at the TV. "This treaty ended the Thirty Years War." Saul murmured, "What was the Peace of Westphalia?"
He turned his attention back to Don. "Are you ok? The plan is to leave tomorrow evening. We'll get everything ready and go together."
Don sat up straighter. "I'm ok with that, Saul." Determination was in his voice. To his credit, once Saul had shown him the information on Level 33.1, Don was just as horrified as Saul was. It was with difficulty that Saul had restrained him from storming into the executive suites. Fortunately, Saul had ensured that the conversation had taken place well away from Luthorcorp in a dark and smoky bar. In fact, he tried to keep all their significant conversations well away from Luthorcorp, and never in the same place twice. He didn't know about surveillance in their lab, but assumed it was there.
"OK, it's a go then. Just follow my lead tomorrow." Saul drained the last of his beer and got up to go. "I'll take you to your apartment."
Don said, "Saul, just take me back to the lab. I've got a new idea on the prototype." His eyes were already glazing over as he turned inward, mentally testing theories. "I think there might be another application…something else might happen when if we test the prototype in a slightly different manner…" Saul knew he'd get nothing else coherent out of Don all night.
As he ushered Don out to the parking lot, Saul muttered to himself, "That's OK, Don. I've got other plans tonight." I'm going to talk with Chloe Sullivan.
On the TV, the host said, "This absorbent, yellow, and porous cartoon character lives in a pineapple under the sea." Saul and Don shared a mutual blank glance. Neither knew the answer.
