Act II, Scene XIV
A man is lying flat on his stomach, his face poking through a massage hole. An attractive young female masseuse is applying serious pressure to his back. We see the man's face contort in pain/pleasure - it is, of course, Lex.
A shadow falls across the masseuse. She looks up, wide-eyed.
We go back to Lex. He frowns.
LUTHOR: Candy? I don't pay you to admire the v-ouuuuwww!
He twists his head, trying to extricate himself from the massage hole, but to no avail. As he twists, he catches sight of a pair of black boots standing next to him. A pair of heels click-clack away as Candy makes good her escape.
LUTHOR: (grimacing with discomfort)The man of the hour...
BATMAN: Your back looks tense, Lex. Under stress?
He presses a single finger into Lex's shoulder blade, all the while holding down Lex's entire body with the other hand without any apparent effort. There is a squawk of protest from beneath him.
Batman lets go. Lex struggles out of his rather vulnerable position with as much dignity as he can muster, throwing on a very grand, very thick robe (monogrammed "LL" we notice) and wincing as he rotates his arm and clutches his shoulders. Batman watches impassively.
LUTHOR: New suit? Like it.
And indeed it is; much, much thinner than the previous Batsuit, because after all, what protection does Batman need from bullets and knives now? It's still jet black and still resembles the old armour, but is more like a Dark Knight version of Superman's costume.
LUTHOR: So. I'm waiting.
BATMAN: For?
LUTHOR: (wounded)My thank you! I delivered on everything I promised, didn't I? Including returning dear, sweet Lois (he makes a nauseous face) safe and sound. As agreed.
BATMAN: I want your empire. All of it.
Lex reaches into a box of Cuban cigars and retrieves one, lighting it and taking a long draw. He regards Batman thoughtfully.
LUTHOR: How much do you know about Krypton?
He walks out of the massage room. Batman follows, his arms crossed across his chest, radiating impatience. They walk to the main living area of Luthor's penthouse apartment, judging from the view from the huge window located smack-bang in the centre of Gotham's downtown. WayneCorp Tower is only a few hundred yards away. Lex regards the view in front of him, leaning against a large mahogany desk. He takes another puff on his Cuban.
LUTHOR: Krypton is something of a passion of mine. An advanced civilisation, far beyond our capabilities...and yet they succumbed to destruction, they fought amongst themselves, failed to spot that one of their own would be capable of destroying the planet.
BATMAN: How did you know? What was going to happen?
LUTHOR: I've met the Eradicator before. I've been to the Fortress. Had myself a few Kryptonian history lessons. From those, I knew enough about Zod to guess what happened with Krypton, and enough about Superman to know he would confront him about it as soon as they met.
He pauses, and shrugs modestly.
LUTHOR: Plus - you know - genius.
BATMAN: Zod did what you would have done.
The two men regard each other for a moment, Luthor framed against the cityscape behind him, Batman, his arms still crossed across his chest, almost invisible watching from the shadows. Luthor smiles.
LUTHOR: Is that what you think of me? That I'd destroy my homeworld rather than suffer defeat?
BATMAN: You wouldn't?
LUTHOR: Perhaps. In the past. But things change.
Luthor glances down at the desk he's standing beside. There's a photograph amongst others there, showing a woman in her twenties. She's not smiling for the camera; in fact she seems to be engaged in a contest with the lens as to which one's about to break first. As Luthor glances at the photograph, his mask seems to slip for just a moment.
LUTHOR: I'm nothing like Zod. There's nothing clever about genocide. Nothing to be gained from blowing up your own world. He was weak. Short-sighted. And a fool.
He looks to Batman now as he speaks. Batman says nothing.
LUTHOR: Besides. I knew you. If one person was going to have a shot, it was you.
BATMAN: Why? Why seek to give this power to me, rather than for yourself?
LUTHOR: (bursting into delighted laughter) Me? Making with the 'up up and away' stuff? Soaring through the air? Oh no, no, no. Not interested. Not the kind of power I'm after. Someone like you is much more (he gestures to Batman's current atire) suited to it. Welcome to it, even.
He stops laughing and looks at Batman again, and we're reminded exactly why Lex Luthor always seems to bounce back from the defeats that Superman has handed him down the years; the man is a genius. He seems to be staring right into the soul of the man before him.
LUTHOR: Which raises an interesting point. Why did you take his powers? Not exactly superhero textbook stuff. Stealing a fellow hero's powers as he lies helpless? Having him dumped in some godforsaken alleyway? That's cold. That's like something they'd blame me for.
BATMAN: This city is rotten. Overrun. I tried to clean it up before. I failed. I did what I had to do.
LUTHOR: Had to do, huh? And that includes beating the living crap out of hoods who couldn't touch you now with anything short of a nuke?
BATMAN: I am not listening to a morality lesson from Lex Luthor! Give me your empire or I'll take it from you! I I upheld my end of the agreement. The son of Jor-El is no longer a threat to you-
LUTHOR: The what?
BATMAN: -Superman is no longer-
Luthor stares at him, and something seems to click. He takes a half-step backward and then composes himself, seeming a tad nervous for the first time in the discussion, but the mask of nonchalance quickly falls once more.
LUTHOR: (shrugs)Fine. Have it all. I'll arrange a meeting of everyone who's anyone, and you can come along and gatecrash it. It'll take a little time, but it'll be done.
BATMAN: And they won't be suspicious?
LUTHOR: Oh yes. Very. They might even bring guns and rocket launchers and all sorts of horrible nasty weapons. (in mock horror)Whatever shall you do against such an arsenal?
BATMAN: And you...
He advances from the shadows until he stands close to Lex Luthor. Lex is forced to retreat until his back is pressed up against the glass of the window, a twenty-plus storey drop to the streets of Gotham beckoning below.
BATMAN: (softly, slowly)What am I supposed...to do...with you?
LUTHOR: (calmly)Kill me or let me go. Your choice.
BATMAN: I could drop you in Blackgate. From a great height.
LUTHOR: Prison? You know prison won't hold me. (sighs) And do you seriously think I won't have planned for that? Would it make you feel better if I said something like, oh I don't know, I have a little gizmo that monitors my whereabouts on the globe at any moment, and should I find myself inside of certain places, large explosive devices hidden in population centres around the world will explode?
BATMAN: Is it true?
LUTHOR: (rolls eyes) No. It's a clever bluff on my part. Oh. Oh no, wait, I seem to have slipped up verbally. Puh-lease. And besides, you know what I know, what I'm currently keeping a lid on out of respect for our little arrangement. Batman may be invulnerable, but the minute I get the striped pyjamas, Bruce Wayne dies. Forever.
He moves forward, breaking Batman's threatening hold over him. Batman steps back, but their eyes remain locked together.
LUTHOR: Assuming, of course, you're given to caring about such trivialities as human identity anymore...
BATMAN: Meaning?
LUTHOR: (musing, casually)Amazing isn't it? How a human body like yours could have coped with the power download you received? How you've mastered those powers so quickly? Superman himself didn't appear on the scene until he was an adult and yet here you are, a common man, and it's taken you less than a day...
Now it's his turn to approach Batman. Batman doesn't retreat. Lex is practically nose-to-nose with him now. Luthor taps the side of his head slowly, once, twice.
LUTHOR: (softly) Are you absolutely sure you're alone in there, my friend?
Batman shoves him backward. Luthor goes sprawling over the desk, knocking most of everything off, tumbling backward helplessly until he impacts the window. It cracks, a huge splintering crack travelling outward, a spreading spider's web that for a moment looks as if it's going to shatter the glass entirely, but it holds. Just.
Slumped at the bottom of it, bruised, barely conscious, Lex Luthor looks up at Batman, who is once again standing over him. Batman leans down so he can whisper in his ear.
BATMAN: You're the monster, Lex. Now. Time and date.
LUTHOR: (weakly) One week from now. Junction of 133rd and Main, there's a supply warehouse. 9pm.
Batman nods. He walks to the window. Behind him, Lex gets to his feet, very unsteadily.
LUTHOR: I'm not the only one that won't be held.
Batman stops.
LUTHOR: He's going to get out eventually. You know it.
BATMAN: (without looking back)Yes.
LUTHOR: You have the power. Throwing safecrackers through car windshields is well and good, but if you ignore him forever, the first victim he kills, the first life he destroys, that blood is going to be on your hands just as much as his.
Batman is gone in another moment, a black shape in the skies above. Luthor watches him go. The smile fades from his face. He staggers to the debris that was knocked from his desk, and picks up the photograph of the girl we saw him glancing at earlier. He touches her face for a moment before brushing away the glass and replacing the photo back on the desk again.
This done, he retrieves the telephone and gratefully drops to his plush chair on his desk, picks up the phone from its cradle and dials.
LUTHOR: WayneCorp? I'm calling for a Mr Reese. Mr Coleman Reese? I need to speak to him. Now.
Act II, Scene XV
Metropolis, in the blazing sunshine.
A message fading in at the bottom of the screen informs us that this is One Week Later.
The Daily Planet offices. Perry White is holding a board meeting of the Planet's top talents, including amongst others Lois, Clark, Ron Troupe (young, bespectacled, political editor) and Steve Lombard (long-haired, rock guitarist looks, sports editor). Lois looks fully recovered. Jimmy raps the door and Perry beckons him in.
PERRY: Jimmy. Glad you could make it.
JIMMY: Gee, Chief, I'm just delighted to be invited. I mean, you don't usually-
PERRY: (to everyone else) So that was two with cream, three with jelly, two with sprinkles, and one blueberry muffin? (to Jimmy) Get that.
JIMMY: (deflated) Got it.
LOIS: Uh, no chocolate sprinkles on mine Jimmy.
We see Jimmy mutter something to himself as he exits; we don't hear what it is, but we imagine it's not exactly safe for work language-wise.
PERRY: So, Brain Trust, how do we save this newspaper?
He points to a circulation graph and an arrow pointing straight down.
PERRY: 7 days straight we've been beaten by the Gotham Tribune. The same newspaper that experimented with (he shivers in disgust) 'Bingo cards' not six months ago.And what, I ask you, is the reason for this reversal?
LOIS: Better pay?
STEVE: (currently flicking little paper balls into a plastic cup three feet away with pinpoint accuracy)Dental?
RON: The fact that they have a raison d'être that extends beyond finding the latest exciting picture of a man in tights saving a speeding train full of orphans from smashing into a burning building during an earthquake slash tsunami slash terrorist attack?
PERRY: Wrong, wrong, wrong. Anyone else?
CLARK: Batman.
PERRY: Half correct! That pointy-eared idiot and his newfound zeal for life aside, we're facing an altogether bigger and more complex problem, one so multi-layered, so intricate, so difficult to grasp, that I've thought long and hard about how best to express it-
He tears off the next sheet on his flipchart. It reads in huge letters:
NO SUPERMAN, STUPID!!!!
Clark drums his pen on the desk. Lois squeezes his wrist supportively. They meet each other's eyes as Perry begins his rant.
PERRY: Seven days! And not a single sighting, in Metropolis or anywhere goddamn else! What is this, a 'no flights, no tights' policy?! It's killing us! And every single one of you worthless big-brain college grads-
STEVE: Hey-
PERRY: -you excepted, Steve-
STEVE: Damn straight.
He winks in an exaggeratedly manly way at Lois. She looks as if she's about to throw up.
PERRY: -stop sitting on your hands and get the hell out there and FIND ME SUPERMAN!!! I don't care where he is! I don't care if he has a timeshare apartment on Krypton's charred remains! Charter god-damned spaceships and FIND HIM!!! Because if we don't…if we don't…
His bluster falters a little and Perry White, eternally terrifying editor supreme, for a moment looks vulnerable.
PERRY: If we don't, the Planet is in serious trouble.
Everyone absorbs this. Perry glowers at them all, the moment of vulnerability passing in a heartbeat to be replaced by the accustomed veil of gruffness.
PERRY: Well? What the hell are you waiting for? Handwritten gilt-edged invitiations with calligraphy done by virgins halfway up the majestic slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro?
Everyone glances at everyone else guiltily.
RON: Uh…
Jimmy Olsen enters the room with a box full of doughnuts and pastries. He places them on the table and notices the decidedly chilly atmosphere and the fact that every single person in the room is staring at him, particularly Perry.
We follow Jimmy as he backs out, step by step, everyone's head moving to follow him, as if afraid any sudden movements will cause the room to explode. The door shuts with a click and through the glass of the door panels we see poor Jimmy sag with relief to still be alive on the other side.
Perry resumes glowering at his staff. He reaches over and closes the lid of the pastries box and jerks his thumb in the direction of the exit.
PERRY: Out!!!
Everyone files out. When he's alone, Perry sits down heavily at the conference table, catches sight of the Tribune vs. Planet circulation numbers graph he discarded earlier, sighs, opens the box and stuffs a huge doughnut into his mouth.
PERRY: (muffled) Somebody get me a tree. I'll get the cat.
Outside, Lois and Clark tramp off to their collective side-by-side desks, looking suitably dejected with life.
LOIS: So. Uh. Anything…?
She indicates flexing her bicep and pumping iron with a questioning expression on her face. Clark shakes his head, shrugs. He makes a fist and thumps it experimentally on the table before him, only to make an agonised face and have to put his hand between his knees to hide the pain.
Lois watches this impassively. Clark notices her lack of sympathy and gives her a wounded look.
LOIS: Yeah. You know, that looks awful familiar.
CLARK: Except now I'm not faking it. Ow.
Lois places her hands on her head and sighs. When she speaks, it's in a low whisper.
LOIS: This is so frustrating. The entire world is wondering where Batman got the sudden upgrades from and where the hell Superman went. I know the answer to both questions, as well as the little matter of who Batman really is, and I'm sitting here on my hands taking a pasting from Perry and covering such luminary events as the Metropolis Boy Scout Jamboree. Which was a big success, in case you were wondering.
CLARK: This isn't exactly a laugh a minute for me either, Lois. You think it's easy watching the news, reading the Tribune, about him running around with my abilities? We have a little boy at home who needs guidance in how to use his powers. How can I do that now? I'm just...
LOIS: (sarcasm dripping)Just a man? Yeah. Y'know that rings a bell somewhere, that just a man line. Can't think where.
CLARK: Okay, enough. We have bigger problems beside him anyway.
LOIS: Really? Like what?
CLARK: Like you and the fact you're here now.
LOIS: Excuse me?
CLARK: Come on Lois. Lex Luthor had you and he just, what, drugs you unconscious and then decides to let you go? Just like that?
Lois can't meet his eyes. Clark moves closer to her, and for a moment it's just the two of them, despite the crowdedness and chaos of the Planet's newsroom in full swing. Just a man comforting the woman he loves.
CLARK: You're sure he didn't…
LOIS: No. Clark, he didn't. And I'm as bothered by him letting me go as you are, crazy as it sounds. I've been checked head to toe, inside and out, for those little bugs he uses. I'm clean. It makes no sense. Almost as if he had an attack of conscience.
CLARK: Luthor?
LOIS: Yeah. I know. But how else do you explain it...?
