For all you fans of the heyday of modern Superman comics. Modern meaning since 1986. Enjoy.
Jesse, suffering from the desire to always be the center of attention and bored with my lack of attention being put on him, left at 9:30 to—as he put it—"go cruising with the Velvet Mafia." I stayed behind and researched more names from Tim's list.
The next name was one Sasha Green. Green, the text said, was the personal trainer of Lex Luthor the second for approximately two years, until she was founddead, in one bloody hunk of woman,in one of the LexCorp subbasements. No autopsy, no toxicology exams. Nothing.
Dabney Donovan—next one up to bat—was one of the earliest geneticists working for Project Cadmus. His 'insane genius with genetics' (as Kent described it) led him to create an entire menagerie of monsters and creatures that plagued Metropolis and the Project alike. His illegal research also led to the creation of what the article described as the DNAliens. When the police discovered what Donovan was doing, he went underground using clones of himself to foil the police. Donovan was not seen until years after Happersen destroyed Metropolis, and even then it was unknown if it was the real Donovan.
So what did I have? One old lady who had a thing for Luthor, another mad scientist who hangs out in the sewers, and a disgruntled girlfriend who probably killed herself over not getting to wear his junior college ring. Each article I read on each of the names was convincing, yes. It led me to believe certain things about these people. But I had also done limited research on this Clark Kent. He had certain links to Superman, which were easily overlookable, but even better…he was married to Lois Lane—the one woman who was very vocal against Lex. Coupled with what Lex told me about her, she was ceaselessly eager-to-please: always out for the best story or the evening edition headline or the star of the football team. She had all the traits of a stalker, coupled with those of an out-of-touch patrician. She was, basically, a fish out of the societal water. She knew it, according to Lex, so she did everything she could to make herself feel better by vilifying those who disagreed with her—namely Lex. In another lifetime, Lex told me once, he had romanced Lois Lane to within an inch of marriage…but neither one of them was willing to give up their respective corners of the world.
Ain't it always the way?
I plodded along through the night, pouring over the remaining names and in the process finding less and less substantive information as the list went on.
Paul Westfield was once the Director at the head of the not-so-secret-anymore Project Cadmus. It seemed he was intent on creating a Superman clone to meet his own ends, but when the task of cloning Superman seemed more difficult than originally thought, Westfield combined his own DNA with that of the clone, in order to make it invulnerable. In effect, the Cadmus scientists genetically engineer a life form that would reproduce the powers, abilities and appearance of the Man of Steel. The "sample" was aged rapidly to adulthood, but it grew beyond the control of the Cadmus staff. The resultant tumult from the clone's escape set Cadmus back a bit, and allowed the clone to pursue its own life. The media dubbed him 'Superboy' on account of his adolescent appearance, and along with a cabal of pseudo-Supermen cavorting around after the real Superman died, he cleaned up Metropolis and defeated a Cyborg Superman.
And so I came to the last name on the list: Contessa Erica Alexandra del Portenza. Jeez…imagine yelling that from your front porch.
She was the latest entry on the list of women Lex had claimed as his wife—number 8, if memory served. According to yet another article by the apparently prolific Clark Kent, after the 'Clone Luthor' was exposed and tried for crimes against humanity—whatever that meant—the Contessa stepped forth and took a controlling interest in LexCorp. Later, when Luthor resurfaced, apparently having served his time, he married the Contessa and sired a child. A girl, Lena Luthor, who was later kidnapped by an imperfect duplication of Superman, the aptly-named Bizarro. Lex retrieved the child with Superman's aid, and the Contessa, and whatever ties she had to the kidnapping, faded away.
That was where the article ended.
I printed out all the articles: Kelley, Happersen, and Westfield…all of them. In the morning, I decided, I would take them to Luthor and be perfectly straight with him.
Lex Luthor was the nation's greatest philanthropist. He was quite the public figure…and yet, these articles conveyed quite the opposite impression. Even the articles where he isn't mentioned explicitly seemed to imply dirty deeds on his behalf.
What did Lex Luthor have to hide? Apparently, a lot. Or so this Kent had to say.
I made it my mission to find out what…and why.
I didn't sleep at all that night.
After what seemed like hours of restlessness, I finally decided to get up and work off the excess steam.
"Alright," I said gruffly, recriminating my own circadian cycle.
I tapped the mouse a bit, and the computer screen flicked to life. My eyes darted around the screen and finally came to rest on the small clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. 5 a.m.
"To hell with it," I grumbled. "I'll go. I'll go and…he'll see."
I wasted a bit more time on the computer, checking my email and stocks on the MSE ticker. LexCorp was up…by a marginal difference over its closest competitor: Galaxy Broadcasting. The Daily Planet, which had just gone public a month earlier, held a distant third.
Before I hit the road, I grabbed the small jewelry box Lex had given me off my nightstand and stuffed it into my jeans pocket.
I stopped at a 24 hour coffee shop near the GBS building to soothe my nerves. Earl Grey had a way of doing that.
