Apologies for the lack of updates lately. Hopefully this chapter will sate your thirsts. Or not. Either way, enjoy.
And see if you can figure out what the heck Luthor's talking about. You might be surprised;). Or not...
"Batman?" Martian Manhunter's face flashes in front of us, pasted against the glowing face of the computer monitor.
"What is it, J'onn?"
After I left Bart and Cassie in the Medical Bay, I found Bruce here in the computer lab. Typing away at the computer console. I'm sitting in a chair next to him just watching him go at it. He's a pro all right. Years of training not just in physical arts, but computer tech make Bruce something more than just a man. He's a tactician—a modern day Hannibal.
Minus the elephants.
But I can't exactly put my finger on what he's looking for. I shouldn't really be surprised though. Bruce does this from time to time. There's a big situation on our hands, and he heads for the computer. While the rest of the League is out in space, guns blazing, fighting a giant starfish or three-eyed crazy, Bruce hangs back in the Tower and strategizes.
At least Hannibal was out on the battlefield...
Bruce minimizes the video-window showing J'onn, and keeps typing. It almost looks like he's drawing up schematics. J'onn continues.
"There is something headed for the Watchtower. Very fast."
"It's Superboy," Bruce says pointedly. He keeps typing. "Lower the defenses, J'onn."
"Are you certain?" J'onn seems unnaturally…worrisome. While Bruce could be wrong, it's unlikely that he is. Especially now. I lay a hand on Bruce's forearm and his attention shifts to me.
"It's Luthor," I interject. "He's controlling Conner somehow."
Bruce turns to me, muttering. "You're sure?"
"Fairly," I say, cocking an eye.
Bruce turns back to the screen and maximizes the vid-window.
"Tim says Luthor's behind this."
"It would only make sense," J'onn replies. "If the Titans were just a test, then the real measure of Superboy's power would be facing Superman."
"Agreed," Bruce says. He stands from the computer console and cracks his knuckles. I can hear the cartilage snapping through the Kevlar and Nomex insulation on his gloves. Creepy. Almost.
"What about the rest of us?" J'onn asks. "Luthor wouldn't consider a frontal attack of this magnitude unless he intended Superboy to take out the rest of the League."
"You're right," Bruce says, glancing at me. "He hasn't thought about the rest of us, or he has and doesn't consider us a threat. I suspect it's the latter."
"So you're not worried about us?"
"No," Bruce says brusquely. "You can handle yourselves."
"What about you?"
Bruce sits back in the chair. He pulls the cowl off, scratches his forehead a few times, and stares at the screen for a thoughtful moment.
"Is Hal occupied?"
"You're...asking for his assistance?"
"I asked if he was busy," Bruce says, half-defensively. "We might need him."
"As near as I can tell, "J'onn says, "he's in San Diego. Talking to Arthur."
"Alright," Bruce says. "I'm headed for the Conference Room now. Meet me there, and bring Clark and Wally with you."
"Right," J'onn says. Bruce closes the vid-window and moves for the door. A few seconds later, and I'm trying to keep up with him as he sweeps through the corridor. This is Bruce when he's got an idea; moving fast so he can start putting it in motion. Never stopping to rest or consider alternatives.
Part of me wants Bruce to explain himself. And another part of me wants Bruce to stay out of this. If I know him—and I do—he'll bust out the Kryptonite on Conner. My only problem there is that the green K might not work on Conner at all. Since he's not a purebred Kryptonian, for lack of a better word, he may yet be immune to it. If that hunk of rock doesn't work on Conner…then we're in trouble.
Conner's not himself. Bart told me that much, and…it was the way he said it…I believed him. But Bruce's plan? Wait for Conner to hit first.
Sitting ducks.
If I hadn't been through this kind of exercise with Bruce in the past—If I wasn't so sure this gamble of his would pay off—I'd almost be scared.
We reach one of the turbolifts and step in. A second later the capsule's rocketing upwards, towards the main decks and the Monitor Womb.
After a silence, I clear my throat.
"So," I say awkwardly.
"What?" Bruce asks, staring straight ahead at the LED display showing floors zipping past us. The cab slows; we're getting close.
"Are you gonna use the ring on him?"
"No," Bruce says. "With his physiology, I can't be sure how it would affect him."
"Great minds think alike," I say, cracking a smile.
"Something like that," Bruce says dubiously.
Kryptonite obviously packs a wollop to your run-of-the-mill Kryptonian. Hell, it even affected Luthor's body—a mere human one—long ago and far away, but that was only after prolonged exposure. So unless we strap Superboy to a chair with the Kryptonite gagged in his throat and leave him there for ten years, he may not feel it at all.
"It's a risk we can't take," Bruce says.
"Understandable," I say, clasping my hands behind my back. And I look around the cab anxiously, bouncing lightly on the heels of my feet. Being fidgety on purpose. Bruce will get tired of it in about three seconds.
"You have something to say, Tim?"
"Yep," I say expectantly. "I've got a plan of my own, y'see."
"Such as?"
"I'm going to appeal to Superboy's higher faculties."
"You've done well, Adam. The gods that power you would be pleased."
Black Adam's voice echoes across the void of Luthor's main chamber, in his bunker underneath Goodwin airport. Deathstroke and Zoom flank Black Adam on either side. A few meters away from the ruler of Khandaq, Luthor sits rigidly in his faux throne, a high-back ottoman, colored blood red.
"Yes," Black Adam says sternly, confidently. "They encourage our crusade."
"I'm sure," Luthor says. "And where is our good friend Mister Lord?"
"At the bottom of the English Channel." There's a tinge of superiority in Black Adam. Like he's supremely pleased with his work. And well he should be; Lord's death was the first step in a larger scheme.
To end the war before it can begin.
"Good," Luthor replies with a half-smile.
Deathstroke interjects, his reserved monotone muffled by the orange-and-black mask covering his head. "What about Superboy?"
"He's headed for the Moon," Luthor says. He pulls a remote from his jacket and presses the single red button on it. A panel in the floor before Black Adam slides back, and a mini-projector rises, casting a floating three dimensional image of the Moon.
"You're sending him to the Watchtower," Deathstroke says, half-surprised.
"It's the natural next step," Luthor replies. He rises from the ottoman and steps own the dais, starts pacing around the 3-D Moon. "I'm confident in his ability."
"You overestimate his power, Luthor," Black Adam protests in a stern tenor. "Superboy cannot face them alone."
"Would you like to offer him some assistance?" Luthor asks abstractly. Black Adam's mouth curves downward in silent disapproval. He disapproves of Luthor's attitude, but he's not interested ingoing to the Moon.
"I admit, Lex," Deathstroke says, dodging Luthor's question. He pulls of his mask and gives a furtive stare at the Moon. "I don't know what you think you can accomplish here. The satellite's destroyed, Checkmate's all but dead. What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"We don't need Checkmate," Luthor says cryptically.
Slade Wilson's eyebrow angles sharply in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Luthor returns to the ottoman. "Something very big is going to happen very soon. I've seen it. I intend to make sure that when all is said and done, we—all of us—stand only to benefit from it."
Deathstroke's one good eye narrows. "I don't know what you're up to, Lex. I don't like this new agenda of yours."
"Your approval was not one of my criteria." Luthor doesn't miss a beat saying it.
Deathstroke sneers, and turns away from Luthor and the 3-D Moon. He pushes on of the doors to the chamber open and storms out angrily, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
In the main chamber, Black Adam and Zoom watch Deathstroke go and turn back to Luthor.
"Youknowsomething," Zoom asks Luthor.
"Yes," Luthor replies curtly.
"Is it in your nature to hide it from us?" Black Adam questions. "After all, I felt we were…equals. Unless you've had a change of heart?"
"When the time is right, gentlemen," Luthor says darkly. "You will know what we are up against….and who will stand with us."
Continued...