Lex grimaced as, alone in the apartment, he dialed. He could just envision his father applying a carefully-crafted formula to the number of times that he let the phone ring. One if you want to try to catch the person off guard, six or seven if you want to make them worried or over-think their strategy, more than that if you wanted to make them angry.
Instead of any of those, his father picked up on the fourth ring. "Well done, my boy. He accepted the offer."
"It helps to have the very best insider information," Lex answered, dryly.
"So it does." He sounded very pleased with himself and Lex could hardly blame him. "I'm looking forward to next Wednesday. I'd ask you to tell Clark that I'm really very impressed with how he's making a name for his alter-ego, but that would hardly do, would it?"
"Unless there's any more gloating you'd like to accomplish, I'd better go. Clark might be suspicious."
"Till Wednesday, Lex."
What gnawed at Lex was that neither Clark nor Bruce was likely to be suspicious. Both of them trusted him. Not the kind trust born of circumstance, where one knows that the odds of betrayal are low because treachery wouldn't be in a partner's best interest, but the kind that's born of the partner believing in one. The way his mother had believed in what he could be and accomplish. Well, it wouldn't turn out the way she'd have thought his destiny might be.
"Hey, why did you lock up?" He hadn't even heard Clark come in. The question was teasing.
"Habit. Knowing your tendency to oops me."
"It was just the one time," Clark protested.
"But sufficiently traumatic for both of us, don't you think?" Clark grinned. There were still signs of strain on his face but he was resilient, Lex decided, hoping he was right.
***
"Civilization, I fear, is inherent in only a few men and women, a mere habit in most." Alfred handed Lex a glass of cognac.
"There's a lot of evidence for your theory right outside." During the week, the societal infrastructure had collapsed almost as profoundly as the physical, after the federal declaration of Gotham as a No Man's Land. People who might have fought if they'd been forced to stay were fleeing in droves. Only those with exceptional devotion to the city and those suffering in it, or those who saw their chance to be utterly free of the law were staying. Everybody else was leaving--even if they hadn't yet, it was a matter of weeks. While assisting them was indeed a rescue operation, Bruce looked gloomier and gloomier each time a new group left.
The money he'd gotten for his shares of Wayne Enterprises was enough to provide facilities for medical care and the necessary medicines and equipment and to continue purifying the water and providing food distribution. It had prevented the further spread of disease but accomplished little else. Clark had negotiated with the various crime leaders to ensure that as long as the facilities would treat anybody without question and report nobody to the remnants of the police or to Batman, the facilities and their personnel would be immune from thefts or attacks. Lex suspected that his negotiation wasn't entirely based on reason and logic and that intimidation had entered in. There was still plenty of Luthor, as well as a teenager with moods of steel, in Clark.
Bruce came in, frowning. "What do you think about this?" He put a piece of paper on the table.
It was a press release from LuthorCorp, announcing, in the clearest possible language, the CEO's intention of funding and overseeing the rebuilding of Gotham City. He had already entered discussions with the city's remaining official leaders and would arrive the next day, Wednesday.
"It is likely to be profitable, given enough investment and little enough attention to the more scrupulous details." Lex commented. "He likes challenges and this is one. If he wins, he'll practically own the city and have an unbeatable reputation. Not just for business, but for civic-mindedness and any other associated virtues. There wouldn't be much that he couldn't do with that. He'll win, I've no doubt." To himself, he thought, Jacta alea est. Caesar's words on re-entering Rome, either to conquer or be destroyed: The die is cast.
Instead of any of those, his father picked up on the fourth ring. "Well done, my boy. He accepted the offer."
"It helps to have the very best insider information," Lex answered, dryly.
"So it does." He sounded very pleased with himself and Lex could hardly blame him. "I'm looking forward to next Wednesday. I'd ask you to tell Clark that I'm really very impressed with how he's making a name for his alter-ego, but that would hardly do, would it?"
"Unless there's any more gloating you'd like to accomplish, I'd better go. Clark might be suspicious."
"Till Wednesday, Lex."
What gnawed at Lex was that neither Clark nor Bruce was likely to be suspicious. Both of them trusted him. Not the kind trust born of circumstance, where one knows that the odds of betrayal are low because treachery wouldn't be in a partner's best interest, but the kind that's born of the partner believing in one. The way his mother had believed in what he could be and accomplish. Well, it wouldn't turn out the way she'd have thought his destiny might be.
"Hey, why did you lock up?" He hadn't even heard Clark come in. The question was teasing.
"Habit. Knowing your tendency to oops me."
"It was just the one time," Clark protested.
"But sufficiently traumatic for both of us, don't you think?" Clark grinned. There were still signs of strain on his face but he was resilient, Lex decided, hoping he was right.
***
"Civilization, I fear, is inherent in only a few men and women, a mere habit in most." Alfred handed Lex a glass of cognac.
"There's a lot of evidence for your theory right outside." During the week, the societal infrastructure had collapsed almost as profoundly as the physical, after the federal declaration of Gotham as a No Man's Land. People who might have fought if they'd been forced to stay were fleeing in droves. Only those with exceptional devotion to the city and those suffering in it, or those who saw their chance to be utterly free of the law were staying. Everybody else was leaving--even if they hadn't yet, it was a matter of weeks. While assisting them was indeed a rescue operation, Bruce looked gloomier and gloomier each time a new group left.
The money he'd gotten for his shares of Wayne Enterprises was enough to provide facilities for medical care and the necessary medicines and equipment and to continue purifying the water and providing food distribution. It had prevented the further spread of disease but accomplished little else. Clark had negotiated with the various crime leaders to ensure that as long as the facilities would treat anybody without question and report nobody to the remnants of the police or to Batman, the facilities and their personnel would be immune from thefts or attacks. Lex suspected that his negotiation wasn't entirely based on reason and logic and that intimidation had entered in. There was still plenty of Luthor, as well as a teenager with moods of steel, in Clark.
Bruce came in, frowning. "What do you think about this?" He put a piece of paper on the table.
It was a press release from LuthorCorp, announcing, in the clearest possible language, the CEO's intention of funding and overseeing the rebuilding of Gotham City. He had already entered discussions with the city's remaining official leaders and would arrive the next day, Wednesday.
"It is likely to be profitable, given enough investment and little enough attention to the more scrupulous details." Lex commented. "He likes challenges and this is one. If he wins, he'll practically own the city and have an unbeatable reputation. Not just for business, but for civic-mindedness and any other associated virtues. There wouldn't be much that he couldn't do with that. He'll win, I've no doubt." To himself, he thought, Jacta alea est. Caesar's words on re-entering Rome, either to conquer or be destroyed: The die is cast.