April 2029
Wayne Enterprises, Research and Development
Fries' basement lab was even colder than he'd remembered it.
Wayne Enterprises CEO Lucius Fox was an aging man. Not old, aging, he'd tell himself, but the greyed hair, the wrinkled face, and two rapidly growing granddaughters told the truth of it. Fox was in denial, as he supposed all men were when faced with their own mortality, but this biting chill let him know it, deep down in his bones. His wrists, hips and knees hurt the worse of all, a throbbing ache that would not relent. Most men his age were retired, or on their way to it. As much as Lucius would love a winter home or permanent residence down in Costa Rica, he had family here. And he had Bruce. Thomas' son. He owned the man that much, at least.
"Ah! Mr. Fox!" Fox heard the German, but couldn't yet see him. "how are you?"
"Cold, since you've asked," he returned pleasantly as the eccentric scientist emerged from the shadows. "But I suppose that's a common complaint down here."
"Yes, da," Fries apologized. "It is…how do you say? Feedback loop? I must keep my body temperature cooler, vat vith my condition…yet my body it constantly adjust. I drive the external temperature lower, and my body drive mine own internal temperature even higher!" he explained with his customary quiet enthusiasm.
"That sounds unfortunate," he stated with genuine concern. "And how is your research progressing?"
"Vell, it is my hope that this grant vill help me find a cure before I am operating my lab at Absolute Zero!" Fries chuckled.
"I suppose we could always insulate the floors with superconductors," Lucius laughed. Scientists had gotten close to reaching zero degrees Kelvin, or Absolute Zero, but had never fully replicated it. Fox himself considered it to be more a scientific abstract, a perfect state of matter that existed only in philosophy. Even in the depths of space there were constant movements of electromagnetic fields, however faint, that kept the temperature from reaching a state of metaphysical solidity.
"Vat is it that brings you here?"
"Our mutual employer," he smiled, taking interest in the images projected on the walls. Scanning electron micrographs, he was certain. Observing the structure of what appeared to be nervous tissue, before and after cryopreservation. "I'm here on his behalf to extend you and your wife personal invitations to next month's event out at Wayne Manor," Lucius continued, making certain to keep Fries' reaction in the corner of his gaze. "We hope you can make it. Mr. Wayne's made your comfort and satisfaction with the accommodations here at Wayne Enterprises an area of personal concern…and of course all of us are intrigued about Oona. She's quite the scientist herself, I hear."
Fries face had broken out in a cold sweat. "Da. Da. My vife…very intelligent. More so than I, I fear," he choked.
"As CEO of Wayne Enterprises, I'm always looking for brilliant minds, Theo," Lucius finally tore his eyes away from those framed images. "I'd be delighted to meet her."
"I am…I am not sure ve should," the scientist stammered. "Vat vith my health…these parties, they are not—"
"Not to worry, not to worry," Lucius assured him. "Special arrangements have been made. Mr. Wayne and I wouldn't dream to throw a party and exclude you…you're quite the talk of the town, Theo. All our employees and former chairmen are simply dying to meet you."
"Yes, I…sank you," the German whispered.
Lucius extended a hand, which was accepted only reluctantly, then graciously excused himself, leaving a pregnant silence behind in the chilled air.
He went outside to the grounds, basking in the warm relief of the sun's rays, letting the UV and IR radiation soak through into his very bones, feeling release as that cold, gnawing pain subsided. He was getting old, he realized. Too old. His physicians said he was in perfect health for his age…but men his age were dying all the time from MI's and CVA's. And Alfred? Alfred Pennyworth had more health problems and risk factors than he did.
He'd done his job. Operation MOUSETRAP was sent.
…but he was struck with the quiet revelation that both himself and the butler might not be there at its end.
Perhaps Bruce had given up the Batman. Perhaps not. Although Lucius was certain that informing anyone else of their secret was dangerous, he was equally convinced that not bringing in a younger, healthier ancillary support was just as perilous. When he and Alfred were gone, the Dark Detective—like Thomas' son—would live on.
Bruce was alone. Isolated. Solitary. It wasn't good, wasn't healthy, for a young man to be that way….
Next Chapter: Pamela Isley faces down the GSU board, and a laboratory intruder just may prove to be an ally.