Chapter Thirty - School For Scoundrels
"One last thing, Clark," said Chloe Sullivan. "You mentioned a Ra's Al Ghul…"
"Yes," replied Clark, "but I'm afraid that his name's all that I know about him."
"It's not even his real name," said Chloe. "Ra's Al Ghul's true name's been lost to the sands of time."
"How do you know about him?" asked Lex, clearly surprised at Chloe's knowledge of the future.
"It was your father … sorry, Lex's father … who mentioned him once, back in those days when I was working for him. He said I could be his acolyte, and then laughed and told me this unbelievable story about his younger years."
"Why don't you go and tell us that story, Chloe?" chipped in Ursa. "This floor is so comfy and I'm dying to hear something totally irrelevant rather than getting on with things."
"You better had, Chloe," said The Doctor, to audible groans from Rose and Jimmy. "You never know how important that story might turn out to be in the long run."
"I can't see it being the least bit important," admitted Chloe, "but here goes…"
And with that, Chloe Sullivan started telling the story, just as it had once been told to her. It was the tale of a young boy called Lionel, growing up in the career cul-de-sac of Suicide Slum, who one day heard, from his friend Morgan Edge, the tale of a mysterious man of great power who lived far, far away. That man was called Ra's Al Ghul - which translated as The Demon's Head - and Morgan told young Lionel that Ra's was searching for an acolyte.
Ready to face the challenge, Lionel gathered his meager belongings and started his trek over mountains and across rivers, through intense heat and bitter cold, in search of the man. Finally, many days after most others would have given up, Lionel finally collapsed, immersed in a fever, despairing of ever reaching his goal. When he regained consciousness seconds, minutes, hours or days later (Lionel had no way of knowing) his blurry vision could make out a figure staring down at him.
"Lionel Luthor?" the figure asked.
Lionel didn't recognize either the figure or the voice and, in a hoarse whisper that struggled to escape from his dry throat, he asked "How do you know me?"
"I know many things," replied the figure, finally coming into focus, stroking his beard. "I know the past. I know the future. I know you play a part in it."
"Ra's?" asked Lionel.
"You can call me Al."
Meanwhile, away from Chloe's story and outside the Tardis, in 1961 Smallville, Lana Lang left her great-aunt's house to check on General Zod's condition. At first she was planning to just leave him there to die, but, unlike Zod, she wasn't a murderer and her conscience had soon gotten the better of her. With trepidation she'd approached the scene of her attack on Zod, only to discover, with a mixture of surprise and relief, that Zod and her great-aunt were no longer there. All that were left were Zod's bloodstains on the ground. Zod clearly had far more stamina than she'd credited him with she realized as she noticed the set of scarlet footprints leading away from where she'd left him lying.
Still, she had more important things than Zod to think about now. Thanks to her, and despite The Doctor's warnings, her great-aunt was now dead before her time. The repercussions on history could be vast - Lana's mind went to her parents and the great things they could have done, and the wonderful life she would have led, if not for that homicidal meteor. Of course Lana knew that Louise's life would have been fairly short anyway, but that was still no excuse for what Lana had done. She had to make amends - for Louise and for history. She had to take Louise's place - it would just be for a few days … until she was shot dead.
Slowly she walked back to the house, walked up the stairs, and started to undress, ready to enter the shower and wash the final traces of Zod's blood off herself. Suddenly she stopped when a feeling came over her that she was being watched, but then she realized it was just paranoia and continued disrobing - after all, nobody could be spying on her - not unless they could see through walls.
Meanwhile, back in the Tardis, Chloe's story continued, telling how Lionel was nursed back to health by Ra's' medical staff and how, one day, with his strength fully restored, he looked in the mirror to see that during his trek and subsequent illness he'd managed to grow a beard. Preferring a clean-shaven look, Lionel covered his beard in shaving foam, raised a razor to it, and then suddenly found a sword blade at his throat.
"Cut that beard and I'll cut your throat," advised Ra's.
"That's a bit extreme," remarked Lionel, slightly perturbed by the older man's interruption .
"For those who seek world domination," explained Ra's, "facial hair is of the utmost importance, along with an appreciation of military strategy and a knowledge of quotations. These things I can teach you, Lionel, if you're willing to learn."
"Very well, old man," replied Lionel, flinging the razor away.
And so Ra's withdrew his sword from Lionel's throat, and instead used it to motion him towards a door.
"Where are we going?" asked Lionel, as he washed the shaving foam off his face.
"Don't ask questions," said Ra's. "It reveals a lack of knowledge. Whenever possible, between quotations, always remain silent, for talk is cheap and silence is golden."
Lionel was tempted to ask Ra's if he'd read that in a fortune cookie, but then remembered that Ra's was carrying a sword and decided to give the silence option a try (since he didn't know any quotations). As Lionel finished drying his face with a towel, Ra's looked on silently and then led Lionel through the door that he'd motioned to earlier. As the older man led him through a labyrinthine set of corridors, Lionel looked at the portraits on the wall, along with the names beneath them - Fu Manchu, Ming The Merciless, Vandal Savage, The Master.
"The Master?" exclaimed The Doctor, interrupting Chloe's story.
Chloe, upset about the interruption, calmly replied "Yes, The Master - your archenemy. Now, if you'll please let me continue with my story and save any comments until the end."
"Sorry," said The Doctor, as Chloe continued her tale.
And so Lionel continued walking down the corridors, seeing the portraits of men with facial hair and, although he wanted to ask about them, he remembered Ra's' earlier comment about asking questions and kept his mouth shut.
"Do you like the pictures?" Ra's asked, somehow noticing Lionel's interest even though Ra's had his back to him.
"Very realistic for fictional characters," replied Lionel, "although I admit there are some I've never heard of."
"They're not fictional," replied Ra's. "That's just what they want people to think. Actually they're all former acolytes of mine. All of them terrible disappointments to tell you the truth."
Lionel, hearing the mention of the word acolyte, decided now was as good a time as any to mention the reason for his visit. "If you're looking for an acolyte - one that won't disappoint you - then I'm willing to take the job."
Ra's laughed. "Really, Lionel, that's very big of you, but I'm afraid you've got competition."
And with that, Ra's reached the end of a corridor and flung the door open to reveal a vast room containing twelve bearded/mustachioed men in suits, along with a young blond-haired boy in a medieval outfit, sat around a large table.
"Hello, everybody," said Ra's, using his sword to motion Lionel to a vacant seat. "Now I've brought you all here to compete in a series of trials so that I can find my new acolyte. At the end of this week, only one of you will remain."
"Well, I'm not going to be one of the ones leaving," exclaimed Lionel, deciding to make his position clear early on.
"Who said anything about leaving?" asked Ra's, polishing his blade.
