Hopeful Idiot
Chapter 18: Backlash
+++++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++++
Upon discovering the corpse of Alexander Luthor, certain protocols were activated. Somewhere in New York state, a hidden lab of scientists got the green light to begin decanting one of the billionaire's many clones.
"Charles, I'm telling you it's too soon." Dr. Mark Tillman hissed to his colleague. "We're months, maybe even years, away from a successful neurograft!"
Dr. Charles Beau sighed heavily. "Our hands are tied, Mark. You know that as well as I do." He actually agreed with his partner, but they didn't have a choice. If they didn't do this, the paperwork they had signed before taking the job wouldn't just force them into destitution. It would be a death sentence; not just for themselves, but for their entire family. They had no choice.
"The imprint is too unstable. There's no telling what it will do!"
Charles nodded, watching as the blue liquid began to drain, revealing a much younger version of Alexander Luthor.
With Lex Luthor's genetic intelligence and financial resources, whatever this clone came up with, it would have the power and influence to make a reality. With the neurograft imprint being still so unstable… God help us.
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
In the wake of a certain email, Bruce Wayne had begun several charities and scholarships. Bruce took Hope's (he had no idea what to call her, so just kept calling her the email signature—it was probably a pseudonym of her real name anyway) suggestions to heart, then went further. He started, or rather re-started, the school lunch program, but expanded it to also include breakfast. Fruit, milk, eggs. Nothing extravagant, but healthy and more than the kids had at home. Fruit, milk, meat.
He'd hired an accountant, nutritionist, and dock manager to put their heads together and figure up the math. If he bought from wholesalers or straight from farms, he could get it for dirt cheap. The daily nutritional requirements for children were higher than adults because of the vitamins, but wholesale supplements were also cheap. (The nutritionist insisted that getting the required vitamins from food was best, but admitted it wasn't always practical on this large a scale.)
It was the labor that would be the most expensive part of the endeavor. Hope hadn't thought of such things in her email. She'd just done the cost for a simple ham sandwich, she hadn't taken into account the people who would have to make and distribute said sandwich. Or those that would have to figure out who qualified for this program.
However, in all, he still spent $5.2 million for the meal program, which began to prepare and distribute both breakfast and lunch to over eight thousand children. And he already had ordered his management team to expand the program again the next year.
After all, Hope had underestimated his 'shiny very custom car'. It wasn't $10 million. She hadn't taken into account the cost of the weapons or ammunition.
Next he looked into the social worker case she'd referenced, and found out how much the papers left out. Bruce was appalled at how often such cases occurred. However, Hope didn't know how social workers were hired. If Wayne Enterprises did give the state monies allocated to hiring more social workers, there was no guarantee that it would actually be spent that way.
So instead, he began to look into the bylaws. Well, he got his lawyers to look into the bylaws. And they found a loophole. Wayne Enterprises set up a non-profit company the next week, hiring and supporting social workers, whose sole purpose was to double-check other social workers. The laws pertaining to such things were in a very grey area, and legally they couldn't do much more than the current Mandated Reporter laws, but he could be certain where the monies went.
Before the end of the year, 'The Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation' had several branching charities set up. He also found the perfect person to run the new non-profit: Rachel Dawes. She had the legal background to hold it, and the drive to see it done.
Rachel even had the idea to branch out even further than Hope had suggested, going into the medical field for underprivileged children, especially those that had long-term illnesses or ones that required medical care too huge for their families to afford. Children with Type I Diabetes, MS, CP, and a whole host of other far-reaching diseases came under the umbrella of the new TaMWF, which quickly began to be pronounced 'tam-waif', 't-tam', or even 'tam-way', much to Bruce's ire.
Two major scholarship programs were also started, one for the social worker field, and one that covered many trade programs or apprenticeships. Kids could go directly from high school, get an apprentice from one of the participating businesses, and have all expenses paid for five years as they learned, with the stipulation that upon completing their mastership, they stayed in Gotham for five years afterward to ply their newly learned trade.
In the end, Bruce Wayne looked at the expense sheets for his new endeavors, now fully established, and part of him did wince at the price tag (which was way in excess of Hope's initial estimations by more than a couple million), and it didn't have the same feel of satisfaction as beating up a criminal…but he also acknowledged that this was going to help more people in the long run. It would help his city in a way that punching rapists couldn't.
Oh, he wasn't going to stop punching rapists. But he could do this too. Help his city from both ends, so to speak.
Rachel walked in with a stack of papers and a large grin. "I just heard back from the municipal library. They loved the idea for a mobile station and we came up with some suggestions."
Bruce Wayne smiled at her and reached to take the papers. "I found a couple more dumbasses to cut off." Bruce had begun to use Hope's word to mean people who weren't doing their job properly.
Rachel thought it was hilarious. Her grin brightened. "How much we talkin'?"
"Another $1.2 million."
She laughed. "Perfect! I've got another idea for the libraries. Oh, and Lucius got into contact with one of his doctor friends, and he had this fantastic idea for a clinic…"
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
"Martha, I swear, you have to talk some sense into your son!" Hope practically yelled into the phone.
"Well, hello to you too dear," Martha Kent was obviously amused. "What seems to be the issue?"
"Clark won't stop hovering! I swear if he doesn't stop soon, I'm going to do something I regret. He's even got Winston in on it!"
"Winston?"
"The dog."
"I thought Clark named the puppy Krypto?"
"I told him that was a stupid idea because of easy correlation." Hope realized that she had gotten off topic. "And so not the point!' Hope groused. "Marthaaa, you gotta help me!"
"Well, I'm not sure what I can do about it, dear."
Hope whined into the phone. "Martha, you don't understand! I can't do anything myself. I can't even go to the bathroom without him hovering. Like I'm somehow going to trip and break something in the twenty feet from the bed to the toilet! It's ridiculous!"
Martha was obviously trying not to laugh as she spoke, "He's always been like this, dear. You should have been a fly on the wall when his father broke his leg during his sophomore year. Or when I sprained my ankle when he was eleven." Her voice took on a contemplative air. "Perhaps that's where he learned it. That summer they were both fussing over me for weeks!" She laughed softly at the memory.
"How did you get him to stooop?" Hope whined.
"You could just tell him." There was a smile in her voice.
"I tried that, he just gave me this look."
"Hmmm…When did you try?"
"Few days ago."
"Well, then I'd try again dear. And you need to be firm with him." There was a pause. "Listen, Hope, I'm glad you called." Martha's tone suddenly became a bit pensive.
Hope tensed. "Oh? What? What's wrong?"
"I was doing some spring cleaning, cleaning a few items out of Clark's room that he hasn't used since he was a boy, went to move some boxes into the attic…" Martha hesitated.
Hope slowly sat up, tensing even further. "Martha, what is it?"
"There were mice in the attic."
Hope blinked. "Mice."
"Yes, mice."
"Okaaay…I'm not hearing a problem. Just call an exterminator." She paused. "Is there things in the attic that strangers shouldn't see or something?"
"Oh no dear, we never kept those things in the house."
"So what's the issue?"
"It's just that…well…the mice…spoke."
There was a pause long enough Martha wondered if they had gotten disconnected. Then Hope's disbelieving voice came through, "I'm sorry, I don't think you said what I heard. The mice did WHAT?"
+++++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++++
Finished: 03.08.2021
Some parts of this chapter were inspired by "Can't Get You Out of My Head" by J-Horror Girl, specifically chapter 12.
Please tell me what you think, but constructive criticism please. I know it's not perfect. No beta, all mistakes are mine. Trying to get back in the swing of things.