Investigation

The Daily Planet was in an uproar, not that that was anything unusual. Whenever something breaking came up, you could be sure everyone would be working hard to find out everything about it as soon as possible. That way, they would appease Perry and uphold the Planet's pivotal status as a newspaper that always broke open the most important of stories.

Right now, there was only one story that Perry White wanted, and that was the recent attack on the city. While news outlets were broadcasting images of Superman fighting off an unknown assailant, the exact details that led up to it, including the strange power outages that occurred prior to this fight, were what the editor craved.

"Tell me something people," Perry demanded as he slammed the door to the conference room shut behind him. "I want to know everything. Who's the new baddie of the week, what does he want, and did Superman put him down? Give me answers."

For this, Clark kept silent, wanting to wait and hear out what his colleagues had uncovered.

"The power outages happened all over the city," one journalist began.

"Everybody already knows that," Perry interrupted. "Tell me something that everybody doesn't know."

"That's not going to be easy," Lois remarked from her seat beside the disguised Kryptonian. "This wasn't a localized event. I have contacts telling me that other weirdoes were seen in other cities, and that the Justice League came to put the hurt on them."

"Anybody know what he, I mean they, wanted?" the editor pressed, looking at every face in the room. When nobody could give anything definitive, they all knew what was to come. "Come on, people! It's the latest story out there and are you telling me we've got nothing?!"

"It's not so simple, Perry," Troupe stated. "Everybody's trying to find out about this thing. Everyone knows about the outages, the Justice League intervention, hell, even the government clean up crews. Even though this was happening everywhere, a lot of people are going out of their way to keep it hush hush."

"But we're not everyone. We're the Daily Planet. We find out what no one else can and report it to the masses. I want to know what this all means and none of you are giving me anything," the editor reprimanded.

Looking between his fellow journalists and his boss, Clark took a second to think before coming to a decision. Perhaps there was a way to use this. "I've been looking into my sources, and it seems like whoever picked up these...robots, I think they are, they're giving the Justice League the cold shoulder. They aren't letting the League help out with the investigation."

"Thank you, Kent," Perry responded, though his tone of voice gave away no praise. "That's what we need to look into. I want to find out what's going on, find out the name of the agency that picked these things up. I want to know who's in change, I want to know why they're keeping everyone in the dark. If you can't find out, get as many quotes as you can."

Hawkgirl might appreciate this. Where as the Justice League, they had their hands tied with international politics, the Daily Planet had no such qualms. If nothing else, it would put pressure on A.R.G.U.S.

"I hoped I wouldn't have to be the one to point this out, but did anyone notice how when the fighting initially started, it was close to LexCorp?" Troupe pointed out.

"What are the odds Luthor might know something?" Lois drawled out, leaning back in her seat. Adding a chuckle she continued, "Might as well get his side while we can. That'll be something no one else has."

"I'll be willing to do that," Clark offered, seeing his chance. Whether she knew it or not, Lois was being a great help right now. If he could get into LexCorp for a legitimate reason, perhaps he might be able to ferret out something. Odds were good that Luthor had the whole building lined with lead, so that meant he would need to rely on his other senses.

"No, Kent, I need you to get on the international, see what the rest of the world is doing about this. Lane, since you always seem to know how to sweet talk him, you get Luthor."

"I'll use my good lipstick then," Lois quipped wryly while making a note of her new assignment.

That...hadn't gone the way he wanted to. However, Clark knew better than to contest one of Perry's decision while in a room full of people. Perry was a good man, a good boss, don't get him wrong, but when it came to business, the editor of the Daily Planet was no nonsense, and didn't take well to having his authority questioned. In a more private setting and you could make your case, then yes, he would change his mind.

Now was not private and Clark couldn't make his case without giving up some sensitive details. The older man was smart, smarter than anyone would or ever know.

That still didn't mean that he was out of options. He needed to get some straight answers from Luthor. While he trusted Lois, the dark-haired woman could be incredibly evasive about a story, waiting until after it was published to get you all the juicy details. Fortunately, she was not opposed to having a straggler tag along so long as they carried...well, everything. As long as she had a pen and pad in hand, that's all she needed to do her job and everything else would only slow her down.

Glancing at his co-worker, for a moment, Clark felt himself captivated by her once more. Even as she looked bored, her eyes trained on Perry while the man in question was assigning others their tasks, as well as demanding to know why nobody knew anything that he could print, it still could put him in a trance. Nothing really compared when she was hard at work, tracking down a lead, and pulling off yet another Lois Lane tier article. The shrewdness, the intelligence, and the way that she let her stories speak for themselves still put him in awe even after all these years.

And he was going to have to sweet talk his way into having her let him tag along.

He might want to freshen up a bit first before trying.

The remains of the robot floated in midair. A light extended from a projector embedded in the ceiling to its corresponding part on the floor. The light glowed a pale blue.

J'onn watched the robot slowly rotate at a diagonal angle. Reaching to a keyboard, he struck a key. Immediately, a beam of green light appeared, moving from left to right, scanning the floating robot. The scanning beam went back and forth several times, insuring a complete scan was performed.

And then it stopped. Turning his attention to the computer monitor, the Martian waited for the computer to complete its diagnostic. Several minutes went by, but he did not mind. Time was only a waste if you thought of it that way.

A window appeared then and a diagram of the robot appeared. The image was initially of the damaged remains, then was reconstructed into its whole form. Small text boxes appeared with lines connecting the boxes to certain areas of the mechanical body. So far it wasn't anything J'onn couldn't figure out by looking at it. The armor was confirmed to be of the same material Green Lantern had discovered it to be, after gaining more information via the power ring about the metal. Other mechanical information was conveyed, including how the joints operated much like a humanoid one did. Physically, this was constructed based off of a bipedal model.

Again, J'onn was not too surprise. Though on closer inspection, there were certain parts he was not too familiar with and the ones he did were in places he would not expect them to be. Hitting a few keys, the exterior of the robot diagram disappeared, revealing the inner workings. There seemed to be an abnormal amount of hardware along the forearms, something the green-skinned man would have expected to be within the torso, or head.

However, because of this, there was the corresponding amount of software to operate such a design. In that sense, it made sense.

"Let's see what your software holds," the Martian murmured as he inputted that command on the keyboard. The diagram zoomed in on the arm until it was the only part that filled up the window. Another window then opened and scripts of text began to appear.

The first thing J'onn noticed was that the text was not in any language he knew. Earth was a planet with an astonishing amount of languages, accents, and written constructs. Everything from the written word to hieroglyphics were included in the Watchtower's database to ensure any possible communication could be interpreted.

However, with what J'onn was looking at, he was certain the symbols he was looking at were foreign to Earth. That was alright. All he needed to do was have the computer interpret the software language into one of Earth's. He put in the command and waited.

His wait lasted longer than originally thought, but eventually another window appeared with the results. This time, the Martian could not help but frown. The translation, it was pure gibberish. While an English translation had been preferable, it seemed the language was insufficient.

Alright, there were many others to try. Inputting another command, J'onn extended the translation program to include a few languages that used the Latin alphabet, then moved to other ones like East Asian characters, Phoenician alphabet, and Glagolitic alphabet. The moment he hit the ENTER button, he stared at the screen, waiting for as long as it took for this command to be implemented.

Much more time passed before he received a result. Much to his disappointment, there wasn't a written alphabet or character on Earth that could translate the alien software. That was much more disturbing than he liked to admit.

Then an epiphany occurred to the Martian. Where Earth dialects were insufficient, why not try a translation with an alien language? Though there were few in the Watchtower database, J'onn was familiar enough with Martian and Kalanorian. There was no harm in trying those.

So he had the computer attempt those. Unfortunately, he came up with the same result. This was becoming more frustrating. What was this alien language he was looking at? He needed to know.

For a moment, J'onn pondered if he should use the other languages the Watchtower database would know. Kryptonian and Thanagarian were there, but he knew enough of those two that he could recognize their letters at a glance. Looking at the pure gibberish before him, he did not recognize a single letter.

So what was his next step? It appeared J'onn had exhausted the resources the Watchtower had at his disposal. These facilities were state-of-the-art, so there weren't many places on Earth that could compete with it.

That caused the Martian's head to perk up. That last thought, there was one computer that was still superior to the one he was using that he knew of. Perhaps if this computer system was not up to the task, then using a more advanced system could shed some light onto the properties of the robot.

Hopefully that computer's owner would be cooperative on the matter.

The hallway was long, seeming to stretch forever. The walls and ceiling were painted a dull white, which prevented eyesore from the glare the bright lighting. The floors were of standard 12x12 tile squares. All in all, it was a rather dull looking place.

There were a few doors scattered down the hallway, though there was no sense of pattern. It was as if the architect felt that a door should be placed at random. On top of it all, there was one door with a service window right next to it, the only one of its kind.

It was in front of this window that Diana and John Stewart stood. If it weren't for their colorful dress, they would have looked as if they were waiting for their driver's licenses to be processed. They were two of the most powerful people on the planet, though.

And you would think such power could overcome the stonewalling of a glorified paperpusher..

"Wonder Woman, Green Lantern," the little man said to them in perhaps the most condescending tone possible, "I am not a liberty to extend you any sort of courtesy per my supervisors. We've gone over this at length already."

John was openly scowling at the man. "Is that what you're going to tell the news networks? Because it's not as if the entire world knows that something happened. People aren't blind or stupid, despite what you may think of them. They know their firewalls and electrical grids have been hit. All we're asking is for some cooperation, if not collaboration so that we don't have a planet full of terrified people."

"Green Lantern, Sir," the paper pusher responded, "I promise you, we already have people working on public relations in regard to this incident. It is being handled. There is no need for the Justice League to get involved."

Diana resisted the urge to sigh. They had been at this impasse for awhile now, with John trying to persuade this little man to assist them while he grew more and more exasperated. It was growing tiresome.

"If the Justice League is not acceptable credentials, then perhaps the request of a sovereign nation will suffice," the dark-haired woman suggested. This caused both men to look at her. "As a duly appointed representative of Themyscira, I formally request we receive a briefing on what your agency is working on with regards to the incident at hand."

This time, it was the paper pusher who scowled, though Diana suspected it wasn't from being outflanked so much as it was having to actually do work. Some workers, it seemed to her, were allergic to work. This person seemed to suffer the same affliction. "One moment," he begrudgingly said before he picked up a phone and began dialing a number.

John took a step away from the window, glancing at the Amazon. "Good thinking, Diana."

She gave him a depreciating look. "I hardly think this will get us what we want, but it'll at least get something moving. A.R.G.U.S. is very secretive."

"I imagine you haven't used your diplomatic position on them though."

That was true. "We're about to find out how effective it is."

It was a few minutes before the worker set the phone back down on the receiver. "Someone is coming to speak with you," he informed them.

"Thank you," Diana was quick to thank. If she had left it up to John, she was certain he would have a more sarcastic remark. Thankfully, he was content with allowing her reply speak for the both of them.

If the phone call seemed long, the wait for the A.R.G.U.S. representative was longer. Eventually, a door down the hallway opened and a man in slacks and a dress shirt appeared. He made a beeline right for them, never breaking stride. The closer he got, the more of his blond hair and handsome features were revealed.

Diana blinked her eyes owlishly. "Steven?" she spoke bewilderedly. "What are you doing here?"

Steven came to a stop before her and John. Indeed, this was Steve Trevor, a colleague of hers. The Amazon had to actually think of the last time they had interacted and she was sad to say she could not remember. He had been there when she had first arrived in Man's World and helped her get acclimated to the strange culture.

She found that very sad.

"Long time no see, Diana," Steve greeted her warmly. It was as if they had spoken to each other last week rather than the months, if not years it actually had been. "What can I do you for?"

"You two know each other?" John inquired as he looked between the two, his arms crossed over his chest.

Diana nodded. "Yes, we are. John, this is Steve Trevor. He was one of the first men I met when I arrived in Man's World. I believe you were in the armed forces, right, Steven?"

"That's right," Steve confirmed, nodding his affirmation. "You were a wide-eyed doe that wanted to experience anything and everything. Those were some fun days."

A warm smile appeared on Diana's face. "Steven, allow me to introduce John Stewart, the Green Lantern."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the blond man replied, holding a hand out to John, who returned the gesture, the two men shaking hands.

"Likewise," he responded.

"So, I'm told you two have been demanding to know what went on with those mysterious robot attacks," Steve then prompted.

"That's right," John said. "As you know, we were involved in the capture of several of those things, which your agency confiscated. We were hoping to liaison with you so that we can all learn what exactly they are and what their purpose is for their attack. We could also coordinate to help keep the public informed and calm."

Steve again nodded, though he did so in understanding. "Your efforts are appreciated, but I have to refuse your liaison offer. A.R.G.U.S. has been tasked with the study of these machines and the ones we did collect were on U.S. soil. So there is no need for cooperation between the U.S. and the Justice League at this time."

Diana felt as if she were gut punched. Steve was...refusing to help them? He had never been that way. She remembered him as a good-natured, helpful man, not a person to refuse to receive assistance, or give it.

"And why not?" John demanded, clearly unhappy with the response.

"Hey, don't take it out on me. If I had it my way, I'd accept your help. This is a standing order coming from the higher-ups." Steve did genuinely look frustrated by the situation. "You were a marine, Lantern; you know we have to follow orders."

Though John scowled, he did nod his understanding. "Sorry for taking that out on you. Who would we need to talk to?"

"I can't tell you that and the standing order is a little insulting, to be honest."

"And that is?"

"If you don't like what I'm telling you, go talk to your congressman. That's verbatim. Sorry."

"Your supervisors are arrogant pissants, aren't they?"

"Sometimes they are," Steven agreed. "As I told you, I don't like this any better than you do. I just figured it would be better to hear it from me instead of somebody else. Somebody who would be less…sympathetic. If I could change it all, then I would, but this is how things are."

"Then relay this message to them, if you can. The Justice League isn't going to sit on our hands on this one. The U.S. government doesn't have a good enough reputation that we'd let this lie; after all, they didn't even know an experimental explosive had gone missing from their stores, not until the maniac that stole it used it to take over the White House."

There was a narrowing of Steve's eyes at those words. Diana could only imagine how the Vandal Savage incident reflected on the U.S.'s ability to protect its highest office. The subsequent aftermath could not have gone well for the military or its intelligence agencies.

"I'll...relay that," Steve said after a few uncomfortable moments. "I trust you two can see your way out." And with that, he spun around on his heels and marched back down the hallway.

Without waiting for the man to disappear from view, John turned to head the other way, Diana matching him stride for stride. "That was a waste of time," the Lantern grunted.

"At least we know not to expect any cooperation from any government entity," the dark-haired woman pointed out. "It'll most likely be the same with other countries."

"Good point. Perhaps we should contact the businesses and corporations that were attacked. They may be more willing to cooperate."

That at least was something to pursue. Superman was already doing so in Metropolis, so it stood to reason that the rest of the League needed to check what happened in their own cities.

John suddenly sighed. "It's times like these I wish Batman was around. I'm certain he could sneak in and get whatever this A.R.G.U.S. is hiding."

Instantly, Diana felt her stomach churn. It was not a pleasant feeling and was occurring more and more frequently whenever she heard of the Dark Knight. His initial absence had hurt, but then his active avoidance of her compounded it. She wasn't sure what to think of the man now.

Still, she was a professional and John was only commenting on an avenue of investigation. The vigilante had been the sole reason why Vandal Savage hadn't taken over the United States, his discovery of the canidite and undercover work exposing the plot being the main factors.

Perhaps they needed to collaborate closer with him than they were attempting. Both sides could only benefit. Besides, it was long overdue that she cornered him and made him explain the deliberate distance he had placed between them.

It was an innocuous truck, one that did not stand out among the rest that populated the truck stop. The driver got out, heading towards the diner, his movements indicating that he had done this many times and was comfortable with his surroundings.

Up ahead, another driver was heading in his direction, moving at a similar speed and unhurried. As the two began to close the distance between one another, the second man pulled out a thick manila envelope and passed it over to the first man who took it without a second thought, shoving it into his jacket as he continued towards the diner.

The second man didn't slow down for a minute, heading to and getting into the first man's truck cab. The keys were still in the ignition and a simple turn had the engine rumbling back to life. In no time, the tractor trailer was backed up then moving back out onto the highway.

A few hours later, the truck was making its way through downtown Metropolis, doing everything to obey the traffic laws until it reached its new destination.

That was a very tall building, one black in color with a perpendicular extension that gave the appearance of the building being an L. It was at this shorter segment of the building that the truck made its way to a loading dock, one that had a decline that sunk down beneath the street. At the end, a metal, shuttered door raised up, opening what looked like a large empty room, one in which the truck pulled into until the entire vehicle was inside. Behind it, the door lowered until it was hidden from public view.

The truck shuddered, then the floor it rested on began to descend, lowering underground and into a portion of the building most had no clue existed. That was intentional, as this part of the complex was not what you would see on the tour.

Eventually, the glorified elevator came to a stop where several armed men awaited. The truck driver got out, and showing no signs of intimidation, headed towards the back of the trailer. Feeling out the locked trailer doors, the driver uncovered a hidden keypad, one that no one would think to check for unless they were in the know. Punching in a combination, the trailer doors unlocked, and it was a simple matter to pull them open.

Inside was the prize, a large rectangular box laying secured inside. The armed men descended onto it, removing and undoing all locking devices that kept the container still. From there, they had to make an effort to push it along the trailer floor, ignoring the harsh shrieking of metal against metal. Meanwhile, outside of the trailer, a reinforced gurney was wheeled up and set up right where the trailer ended. The large box was pushed onto it, the gurney giving a groan from the incredible weight placed on it, but it held. From there, it was wheeled away deeper into the complex where various men and women waited for the container's arrival.

Overseeing everything from a catwalk loomed a man who stood out from everyone there. Whereas the armed men wore the uniforms of security personnel and the rest were clad in sterilized white labcoats, this particular individual wore a three-piece suit. The sportsjacket and slacks were black in color, almost light-sucking black. The dress shirt and tie, in contrast, were a pure white, so pure it was almost virginal.

There was a presence about him, one that literally hung over everyone there, prompting them all to be on their best performance, perhaps the best of their careers. While intimidated, at the same these employees were desperate to impress this man with their professionalism and expertise. Anything positive that would earn them a second's worth of praise.

The large container was wheeled over to a wide table and there placed beside it. From there, it was opened up, various locks and latches opened before the contents were finally revealed for the world to see. The armed men reached in, and with much effort and grunting, they slowly lifted the damaged remains of a robot.

Specifically, one of the robots that had been on the news.

The suited man watched without even a twitch of his facial muscles. His control over his emotions, even during a time of anticipation was absolute. Nevertheless, he felt a great sense of satisfaction. It seemed the various transaction and bribes had paid off.

If there was one thing that Lex Luthor knew, it was that no matter who you were or what you stood for, wealth had a way of opening doors and gaining you certain privileges, such as access to some of the most unique creations the world had ever known.

The recent incidents were barely over, and Luthor had been digging around, doing his best to get his hands on one of them. His various moles and agents scrambled about, looking into and finding out who was taking possession of these robotic wonders, then looked into learning how they were being transported. From there, it was identifying when one of these robots would be at its most vulnerable to pinch.

The businessman was aware of A.R.G.U.S. but not what its purpose was. That was where money came in, some bribes with the right people, and soon enough, he had learned that due to how widespread these sudden attacks on the digital and electrical infrastructures, A.R.G.U.S. was moving these robots about with various methods to a central local. Air and land, by plane, train, and truck, that was how they were doing it. It was all suppose to be secretive, suppose to being the operative words.

All that mattered now was that Luthor had one in his hands.

The breaches in his cybersecurity had been alarming and infuriating. There had also been some desperation to stop the hack, but whatever programming this marvelous machine possessed, it was unlike anything he or the men and women working under him had ever seen before. Then, naturally, the resident Boy Scout intervened and there was the other thing that impress him.

The robot had been able to match, if not get the upperhand on the so-called Man of Steel. Luthor had watched with baited breath, though the ultimate outcome had been predictable. "Superman" always had a tendency to come out on top, pulling a win at the very last second. How many projects had he terminated because of lack of results?

After all these years, too many.

Now, though, it seemed as if another opportunity had fallen into his lap. Once he learned the secrets of this humanoid machine, he would go about seeing about mass producing it, or perhaps creating something superior and with the capabilities of finally removing the proverbial thorn in his side. If successful, any and all militaries would pay through the nose to get access to that kind of technology and weaponry.

All of that was secondary. For the time being, it was research and development and he would personally oversee this project.

The clacking of high heels informed him that someone was approaching him. Without looking away from the appropriated robot, Luthor dictated in a deep and authoritative voice, "Have my schedule reorganized. I want priority on this project, any and all developments to be reported to me immediately, no exceptions. I also want the strictest of security measures on this, no leaks, everything is strictly on a need to know basis and everyone understand."

"Of course, Lex," a stern, feminine voice responded.

With light gleaming off his bald head, Luthor turned and passed by the dark-suited woman who stood at his side. Not even a hint of lint could be found, and the way the beauty appeared to be made of marble truly suited her. It was only after he was a few steps ahead that the woman turned to follow him, her posture changing to high alert.

"Before I forget, we need to ensure that anything that may link us to this...acquisition is severed or removed. Bribe when we can, blackmail who won't be bribed, and permanently retire those who resist. Accidents preferably. People will be looking for this asset of mine, and I want it so that they won't find it. Will you handle that for me Mercy?"

"Consider it done."

Only now did Luthor allow the edges of his lips to curl up. There was a giddiness he felt, one that he could only experience when on the cusp of a technological breakthrough. This would be a big one, he could feel it. The application alone would power a new revolution, one in which LexCorp would lead the charge.

First, a certain blue menace would need to be dealt with once and for all.

After that, the profits would pour in and never end.

Author's note: After years of name drops and mentions in other stories, the big, bald man finally has his debut. I hope it was worth the wait and this meets expectations. I know there were readers throwing his name out after The Eleventh Hour, among other names. Looks like those who mentioned him were half right for this story. How it'll play out, you'll just have to wait and see.