Disclaimer: The characters belong to DC Comics and the creators of Batman Beyond, not to me. I make no profit. So you no sue.

Begotten of Cadmus

One thing about Gotham, it wasn't hard to find an abandoned warehouse when you needed one. Whoever this 'Sentinel' was, Terry sure as hell wasn't taking him back to the Batcave. Sentinel could carry around all the blankets he wanted, there was no way he was being trusted with that secret. So that was how Terry found himself in a freezing cold warehouse facing this stranger who knew about his past, and the Cadmus Project. That was intriguing, and dangerous. Mostly dangerous.

Sentinel hovered in midair for a moment, listening. "We're clear," he said, "there's no one around for blocks. Whatever's said here -- stays here. All right?"

Terry gritted his teeth. He'd thought he'd put all the old feelings of betrayal behind him, but when he saw that logo, they were all dredged up again. God, didn't it stop hurting after awhile? "Who are you? What do you know about Project Cadmus?"

Sentinel raised his hands, half-smiling. "You're a straight-to-the-point kinda guy, aren't you? Listen, you don't have to interogate me. I'm not a bad guy." His smile faded, and he dropped the knapsack between them. "First things first. As you can see, I don't wear a mask. I don't need to hide my face, because I officially don't exist. I was never born. But you can call me Conner, Conner Kent."

Standing so close to Sentinel, Terry could feel the power he was radiating, Sentinel was humming with it. Like being near to Superman, and the realization that all this awe-inspiring power was held inside a person, a single person who could do with it as he pleased. Was Sentinel a Kryptonian, too? But that didn't make sense, they were an extinct race, except for Superman, of course. "Kent, huh? Like..."

"The very same." Sentinel -- Conner -- knelt down and pulled the blanket from the knapsack. "Project Cadmus has been around for decades, mucking around with hero's lives, and their DNA. They created this crazy clone of Superman called Doomsday -- you gotta hear the story about that one someday, it's a doozy. Then they cloned Supergirl, named her Galatea, but she got fried. After those dismal failures, the Cadmus scientists decided to try again. Their next project was me."

Conner pressed the blanket to his chest. It's logo mocked Terry. He thought of his father (not father) and Bruce (not father) and his mother and Matt, and clenched his fists. "Project Cadmus got a fresh sample of Superman's DNA after a fight with Doomsday," Conner continued. "But they ran into the same problem they had before -- Kryptonian DNA was just too alien, no one really knew how to repair the damaged parts. That's when they got the brilliant idea to splice it with human genes, create a hybrid, something a little more familiar, a little easier to control. No womb for me, no mother and father. I was whipped up in a lab, force-grown in a tank. When I escaped, I had the body of a sixteen-year-old and the mind of a turnip. I didn't even have a name until Superman gave me one. Even called myself 'Superboy' for the longest time, can you believe it? Man, I'm glad I outgrew that." Conner fell silent suddenly, as though realizing he'd said too much, rambled on too long.

It was several long dark moments before Terry spoke. "So I'm not the only one. How did you find out about me?"

"Justice League, remember? They have files on everyone." Conner ran a hand through his black hair, a nervous gesture. "Actually, I really debated whether I should contact you at all. I didn't know how you'd act, if you'd even care..."

They regarded one another for a moment, not just Batman and Sentinel, but Terry McGinnis and Conner Kent, two people united by a common origin. It wasn't easy knowing that you owed your existence to doctors in white lab-coats, gene splicing, and petrie dishes. That you were created as a means to an end. But it was...comforting... to know that someone understood. That someone had walked your path before. That you're not alone, a freak in the night.

"So you believe me?" Conner asked hopefully.

"I'll definitely be checking on your back-story," Terry said. "But you know all the right details." And you radiate Kryptonian power like a thousand suns. "Just one question. You told me Superman was responsible for the Kryptonian half of your DNA. But who was responsible for your human half?"

Conner looked through him like winter, and Terry knew he'd found a sore spot. For several minutes Conner was silent, and Terry wasn't sure if he was going to be angry, or if he was going to fly right through the roof of the warehouse or what. But instead Conner said, "You ask hard questions, Bat. My life's an open book, so I'll tell you. The backer of Project Cadmus at that time was Lex Luthor. I don't know why -- maybe he thought it was a joke, or some twisted sense of drama -- but my human DNA belonged to him."

Terry whistled low, under his breath. Lex Luthor and Superman. "So you have two dads? And not in an after-school TV special sort of way, either."

Conner glared at him, but a trace of a grin touched his mouth. "Laugh it up, Bat. Laugh it up whydontcha." Something beeped on his suit, and Conner fumbled with a small wrist communicator. "Looks like I'm needed in Opal City," he said. "Gotta go, but we'll talk later, okay?" As he turned to leave, he paused, and turned around again.

"Hey Bat? If you see Tim -- tell him Kon-El says hello."

Finis