Tomorrows Heroes of Yesterday
Chapter 1
Less Than Heroic
Crack! Crack! Crack! Echoed the endless sound of stone being struck by man made tools. It was sound all who grew up and lived enslaved in the Undermine came to know very, very well. So used to it were they that in its occasional absence, the silence was deafening. The mine itself was home to several thousand residents; all of them slaves to Emperor Luthor.
It was a world of darkness, no sunlight ever graced the skin of those living down here. Most only heard from stories passed down through the generations about the outside world with its brightness. No, the Undermine slaves were a sad, miserable disease ridden lot. Few saw life even to thirty, that is for those few that made it through childhood.
The Undermine was not a true mine, in the sense that its workers did not mine for ore or mineral deposits, but for energy. A very long time ago, Emperor Luthor discovered a process to turn the earths lava flow into usable energy through a machine that transformed it into a hard, dark substance that then had to be chiseled away into smaller chunks to be carted to the domed city of Metropolis, the last vestige of the world that once was.
Into this dark, underground world devoid of hope and joy, a young man with a destiny grew up.
"Kent!" He heard the guard yell. The tall, muscular man with the curly dark hair had let his eyes wander once more to his 'friend' Loren. Then he felt the sting of the guards whip across his bare back. Another swollen red welt.
"Sorry, sir, wont happen again."
"That's what you said last time."
He caught Loren's deep, brown eyes glancing his way, then she looked away her cheeks turning red in embarrassment. Loren was a beauty, by any standard. Like all the workers below, she was lean and in good shape, but she had wild dark hair and soft pink lips. She had a light in her eyes that even the overseers could not extinguish with their beatings.
She passed slowly by him, carrying a basket of energy ore and whispered, "Careful, Cal, I don't want you to get hurt." He let his eyes trail her form as she wandered off, she had the simple tattered clothes of all the folk down here but to Cal, she looked like a princess.
Whap! Another sharp sting across his back reminded him of where he was. "I warned you, boy."
Kent turned his steely gaze to the guard. Through gritted teeth he replied, "Yes sir."
The guard smiled. "Ya know, Kent, I do gotta say…you got good taste. That girl is something, even if she is an animal like the rest of you." Kent continued to push the massive wheelbarrow up the steep incline. He glanced back to the guard once more.
The guard was no longer noticing Kent, his attention was on the young woman. The guard rubbed his chin. "Ya know…in fact…I'll be back in a few minutes…"
The guard went over to Loren as she finished emptying the container of ore into the next wheelbarrow. He gripped her arm and puller her with him. "What??!!" She screamed. No one seemed to pay attention to her. This sort of thing was fairly common after all. The guard smacked her hard in the face.
"Do NOT struggle with me girl, come with me now and it will be…easier on you."
Her eyes clearly showed her horror at the prospect. "Please! Don't! Please!"
The guard seemed to enjoy her protests. But not for long. A strong hand gripped his collar from behind and pulled him roughly away to land hard on his rear. The slaves around laughed and gasped in horror all at once.
"You will not touch her." Kent said coolly.
The guard slowly rose to his feet. "Boy, you just made the worst mistake…the last mistake of your miserable little life." The guard dropped the whip and drew out his painstick. The painstick sparked with blue and white energy. It was a long, thin baton type weapon charged to attack the targets nervous system. Used sparingly it can easily incapacitate its victim; used heavily it can cause permanent damage and even a very painful death.
He approached the big man, sparking stick waving back and forth in front of him. Kent quickly reached for a nearby pick and deflected the guards first swing easily. Kent though, was no fighter, and Luthor's guards were fairly well trained and outfitted. Within moments the guard had Kent on the retreat. Deflecting the pick out to the side, the guard smacked Kent in the shoulder with the painstick. Blue and white energy arced into his body causing his body to convulse. He groaned in agony. The guard held the stick harder against the big man. He leaned in close. "I'm gonna enjoy your little girlfriend there Kent…and I think I'll let my buddies play too…"
With a roar of rage Kent headbutted the guard, cracking the visor shield on his helmet. The guard stumbled back. Kent swung the pick in an uppercut, ripping into the guards chest armor and sending him sprawling back. The painstick fell from his grasp as he landed on the ground. Kent hurled the pick at the man as he began to rise, forcing him to duck down, then the big man dove to the side and picked up the painstick. He rushed quickly to the slowly rising guard and pinned him face down against the dirt. "Let's see how you like it!" He roared the shoved the painstick, still sparking, down the back of the guards armored tunic, right in the center, where he couldn't reach it to dislodge it.
Standing, Kent watched in grim satisfaction as the man writhed and convulsed on the ground. The next thing he knew they were swarmed with Luthor guards and he blasted into unconsciousness.
Meanwhile:
From the top of the world, everything seemed small. From this…lesser office…he could see his tower, yet somehow he felt so far removed from it. He hated to make these personal visits but for this particular 'businessman' he was meeting, he would make an exception. He ran his hand over his smooth scalp then smoothed the lines of his cream colored suit.
"Mr. Luthor." He heard the less than enthusiastic voice say. He also noted with disdain the use of the word 'mister'. That would have to be corrected.
Always the cordial lord, however, Emperor Luthor turned to great the man. He was a well built young man, approaching thirty. He had dark hair and eyes and wore a nice navy blue suit. He was always well dressed. Luthor forced a friendly smile and reached his hand down to shake that of the man he head come to see, who reached up from his hover chair. "Bruce." Luthor said by way of greeting.
Bruce hovered his chair back behind the desk in his office. Luthor nodded to his Elite Guard's that had been waiting with him and they went outside. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of the lord of the world visiting me today?"
Again, Luthor noted the disdainful tone of voice. Luthor smiled cordially once more and dropped a small cube on the desk that displayed a holographic slide show of imaged captured earlier that morning. There was fire and explosions, appeared to be a warehouse of some sort.
Bruce looked on uninterested. Luthor said as he sat down across the desk. "Do you know what that is?"
Bruce blinked. "A hollowcube?"
All traces of humor drained from Luthor's face leaving behind a hollow and frightening visage. "Those images were taken this morning at Luthorcorp warehouse number 14. That is the fourth such warehouse destroyed mysteriously in the past year. I don't suppose you would have any idea how such a thing could happen, do you Mr. Grayson?"
Bruce shrugged. "Faulty wiring?" Luthor's eyes narrowed. Suddenly he stood. His grin returned, and somehow that was even more disconcerting. Luthor turned back to the large window.
"Few people recall the old, old days. Back when heroes existed and I…was not emperor. But I do, Mr. Grayson, I was there. You know of them too. From your family lineage. Where were you between one hundred and three hundred hours this morning, Mr. Grayson?"
"At home." He said evenly. "With my wife and children." Luthor nodded.
"And how are the little ones, hmm? Barbara is almost an adult now isn't she? And little Gordon…why, he must be in his teens now too." Luthor asked with an almost believable amount of warmth in his voice.
"Yeah, that's right. Barbara is learning the business, Gordon wants to do something sport related but…" he let the thought trail off.
"But? Oh that's right…the people in your family tend to have…accidents by the time they reach adulthood…pity, that." Luthor turned his dark gaze to the hover-chair bound man.
With eyes still downcast Bruce responded, "I know of the agreement, Luthor. I'll honor it. But please, my kids…"
Luthor then, actually laughed. "You know, no matter how long I live nor how many generations of your family I deal with…it never fails…each and every one of you says the same things to me. 'Oh please LORD Luthor! Please, do whatever to me but oh, not my children! LORD Luthor'" Luthor laughed again as he put the emphasis on his title, to remind Buce he was the Lord, not just 'mister'.
"What a whiny bunch of…" Luthor sighed as he sat on the edge of Bruce's desk. "Look, if you don't want your kids to suffer like you have…don't have kids! It's that simple. It's only through the agreement I made with…I don't know, Bruce Grayson the fourth? Fifth? I forget which one, you all blend together after a while, but it's only through that agreement that you even exist. Do you know you are the only family line connected to the heroes of old that I didn't have completely eradicated? You should feel honored. Now, heres what I want you to do. Assuming you are telling me the truth and the explosions do, in fact, have nothing to do with you, well then you shouldn't have any qualms about helping me locate those responsible, right? So find them, bring them to me to be executed. You have…lets say…two weeks to do this. If not, well, little miss Barbara's upcoming accident might just be of the kind she can't even crawl away from, understand?"
Burce looked away for fear he would try to strangle the dictator to death then and there.
As Luthor stepped from the office one of his elite agents came to him carrying a hand held com unit. "Lord, there has been an incident at one of the mines."
Luthor walked down the hall, his agents in tow. "So? They can deal with it."
"Sir, a guard was severely injured by a slave…"
"Again I say, so, they can deal with it, he will be executed end of story."
"But sir, this slave, I thought you might want to see…"
Luthor sighed deeply and pivoted on his heel to face the agent. "What, pray tell, is so damned important about this slave?"
"His name, sir," the guard choked out hurriedly. "It popped up on your old secret file list."
Luthor narrowed his brow. "What?" He took the com unit and looked at it. "I'll be damned…agent, go take care of this one personally. No screw ups, understand?"
"Yes sir, on my way sir."
From his office Bruce watched his monitor with fascination. He zoomed the screen in to see the mini com unit Luthor held and the name displayed there. Calvin Kent. "Fascinating."