Author's Note: I hope everyone had a merry Christmas, and if not, maybe a new chapter might be about to make things a little bit better. It seemed like Luthor's introduction last chapter got a lot of you talking. Let us see if we can do the character justice and meet your expectations then. Enjoy.

Inquiries

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Luthor is unavailable for the foreseeable future," Lois mocked, her voice slightly raised and giving it a slight nasally tone to it that almost matched that of the receptionist. Clark thought it was a pretty good imitation. "Honestly, does she really think that's going to stop me," the dark-haired reported muttered even as she power walked through the halls of LexCorp.

Perhaps she was still mad she was rejected when the receptionist refused to "make time" on Luthor's schedule. Then again, why did she always seem to take it personally? If the male reported didn't know any better, he would have thought there was not a lot of love lost between Lois and the receptionist rather than with Luthor.

"So what do we do now?" Clark asked, hoping to somehow salvage anything from this visit. This was important, perhaps more so for him. Perry was expecting him to do his actual job and not, you know, do what he was told not to do. While he had been expecting to be shot down immediately by Lois, he had been surprised when she had given him a quick, "Sure," and then proceeded to head directly here, leaving the disguised Kryptonian to hurry after.

Sometimes the speed Lois walked made him wonder if there wasn't some relation to the Flash.

Normally, there would be a witty quip thrown his way by now, but his female colleague was instead checking her watch. "It's getting close to one, which means…" Sharp blue eyes cut towards a seemingly random hallway, "he'll be heading back upstairs to his office. Lunch unless there's a surprise meeting scheduled. Come on, Smallville, to the elevators."

Clark blinked dumbly at that. "How do you…?"

"I've been ambushing CEOs since before you could write opinion pieces. Doesn't matter who they are, when they're at work, they always have a schedule they follow to a T. Now do more than just stand there and look pretty. We have an ambush to get to."

Sometimes it was scary when Lois showed how smart she was.

The site of their, ahem, ambush would be right in front of the elevators themselves. However, instead of standing in front of the sliding doors themselves, Lois took position on a hard bench placed on the wall opposite of them. She even relaxed, making herself comfortable as she prepared for a long wait.

"What did I tell you about standing? Take a seat and get comfy. Everyone looks for the person that's standing up, looking around." To emphasize her point, Lois patted the part of the bench beside her. "Besides, it beats standing. Relax a bit; you stand out like a sore thumb."

"Am I detecting some puns?" the taller male groused as he obeyed the command, taking a seat.

"I don't know. Are you?" Lois quipped back, not even looking at him. From that point, it was waiting, Clark leaning forward slightly as he glanced from side to side occasionally. While this wasn't his first time doing such a thing, the fact that he was antsy for answers made him a bit fidgety.

Eventually, Lois ordered that either he sit still or wait in the car. It was much easier after that to keep himself still.

It was maybe a half hour of waiting, and sometimes making a show of complaining about a lunch they were late for because a security guard began to become too close. Loitering was still a thing and Lois would have his head if they got kicked out. Patience would pay off because then a figure in black strolled into view and Clark knew who he was immediately.

"Alright, show time," Lois said softly. "Let me do all the talking, unless you think to ask something I haven't." Clark nodded and stood up at the same time as his colleague. It was indeed show time, and he found that allowing Lois to be the center of attention tended to allow him to make observations without others paying too close attention.

At least, that's what he thought until he recognized Mercy Graves at Luthor's side. That woman was extremely sharp; he'd have to appear even more mild-mannered than before.

"Hey Lex! Lex!" Lois called out, standing up once Luthor was close enough for her liking, meaning escape was not possible. Steeling his nerves, Clark stood up and followed after the more assertive woman. Immediately, Luthor had turned his head in their direction, and Mercy was already getting into position, ready to impede their approach if they got too close. "Spare some time," the reporter continued, not at all intimidated. "Would you like to answer some questions I have?"

"Ms. Lane. Kent," Luthor greeted, and to his credit, the bald man did not grunt. "How am I not surprised to see you two here. Again."

"Now, Lex, you know the drill," Lois quipped back. "Anything happens in this town, your side is always the one everyone wants."

"More fake news?" Luthor retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Hardly," the dark-haired journalist dismissed, taking one step closer.

Now Mercy blocked Lois' way with an arm. "Mr. Luthor is busy and you don't have an appointment," the bodyguard stated, her gaze laser sighted onto the shorter woman. "Either make one or show your way out before security is called."

Lois threw the more aggressive woman a look. "Do we honestly have to do this every time? It's only a few questions, nothing more." Then she directed her gaze back to Luthor. "Hey Lex, mind yanking the leash to your Doberman? This show is not needed."

Mercy said nothing, only narrowing her eyes at the reporter, and putting Clark on edge at the same time. He knew too well the skills that this woman possessed, and if she felt the need to use them, then he was going to have to act in a way that both protected Lois while not giving away his true nature. Now how was he going to do that given the current circumstances?

"We just need enough for an article. Just Mr. Luthor's side of things. After the crazy stuff happening recently, and the whole city being affected, it stands to reason even you guys here experienced something. We just want to let the people know, that's all," he tried, keeping a wary look at Mercy.

"The people don't have a right to everything," Luthor said dryly, making to turn away. Then he paused. "Although, it is true that Metropolis experienced an event that affected every sector...given that, these are highly irregular circumstances, are they not?"

"Are you talking to us or yourself?" Lois cut in.

As if remembering that he was not alone, Luthor glanced at Lois in particular, probably because she tended to be a very loud voice, even in a crowded room. "Never you mind that. Now, you said that it was only a few questions, correct? I do believe I can make some time right now to answer them, provided they are all reasonable."

Clark was unsure if he had heard correctly. Had Luthor just...agreed to an impromptu interview?

"Oh? Like that? You're willing to give some straight answers?" Even Lois sounded skeptical, and she was blunt in making that known.

"Of course," Luthor replied. "You have questions, and the people, like you said, have a right to know. So let us sojourn in a more private setting. My office shall do. Now, my time is limited, so whatever questions you do have, do try to keep them to the point as much as possible." Extending an arm out, the bald CEO pressed on the UP button, sending in the request for pickup. "You can expect me to answer to the best of my abilities."

"Naturally," Lois said wryly. Clark knew that tone of voice; it meant that his colleague did not believe a single word out of your mouth.

The opening of the elevator doors only meant a transition from standing in a hallway awkwardly to standing in an elevator, waiting while feeling slightly awkward. This wasn't Clark's first time here, far from it, but it felt like he was always in enemy territory. The Krpytonian as a result was always on edge, though he disguised it as the jitters, something that was common with his persona as a mild-manner reporter. Throughout it all, he tried to focus on his hearing, always making out muffled voices, but nothing that seemed to give away anything that required his attention. The hum from the elevator pulley system also served to make it harder to listen in.

Naturally, the top floor of the skyscraper was where Luthor made his office, one with a view of the city and everything below it. From the elevators, the party of four walked down a hallway, making the appropriate turns before reaching Luthor's private secretary, the one who did only legitimate business. Mercy was the one that dabbled in the less than wholesome aspects of it, Clark had found over time.

"Wait out here," Luthor commanded to his bodyguard. "This shouldn't take too long."

"Are you sure?" Mercy inquired, her face a mask of impassivity.

In response, Luthor shared a look with her, one that seemed to convey a lot of information in a short amount of time. Whatever was said in that look, only Mercy seemed to be able to interpret, because eventually, she backed down with a, "As you wish, Mr. Luthor."

With a smile that seemed to pull back a bit too much, making his lips appear that much thinner, Luthor gestured for the two journalists to enter his lair. That lair was an enormous room, one with several couches and chairs that lined right up to a massive desk. Plush carpet muffled the sound of their feet, and the lighting made it easy to see in here. On the far wall was nothing but glass from floor to ceiling, and there was the view that Luthor had to look at everyday he walked in.

Clark had to admit, it was a view with some charm to it. Sure, he had had better, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate different vantages. The way everything was situated, it was as if Luthor saw himself as a god lording over his domain, and those windows gave him the perfect place to revel in it.

"Come, take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable," Luthor offered, gesturing towards a pair of chairs that were placed closer to the desk than the other pieces of furniture.

"You really know how to treat your guests," Lois said, though she spoke as if praising the bald man, in reality you could barely make out her sarcasm. There were times when the Queen of Sarcasm was capable of hiding it so well that it could make politicians with dark secrets jealous. "Since you don't have a lot of time, let's get down to it. What do you know about the recent Superman grudge match?"

Clark shot a look at the dark-haired woman, not really expecting such a question from her right off the bat. Then again, what did he expect? This was a woman who knew how to cut to the heart of the matter.

Luthor, though, was not put off. "Only what I've seen on the news. Now, if you care to ask something more relevant, feel free to do so."

"Alright. The fight took place near, if not right over this very building," Lois was quick to ask next. "Does LexCorp have anything to do with this robot's creation?"

"Not at all," Luthor answered just as readily. "If anything, this robot was attacking LexCorp when Superman intervened."

This caused a frown to appear on the Kryptonian's face. The robot was attacking LexCorp? While it wasn't out of the ordinary for a weapon or machine to turn on those who made it, Luthor was good at ensuring that he had full control over his monstrosities. When he didn't, he had them destroyed.

"Do you know why it attacked you?" Already, Lois had her little notepad out and was making notes.

"Unfortunately, I cannot say for certain. You see, our entire network was hacked," Luthor explained as he leaned back in his seat, hands clasped together and resting over his stomach.

"Hacked?" the male reporter found himself saying. "What all was hacked?"

"Everything," the bald CEO stated, his tone of voice deadly serious. Even his eyes seemed to penetrate through the journalist's glasses and pierce his very soul. "The databases, the cyberinfrastructure, any and all digital files, everything. And then, the hack used our wireless network to enter the rest of Metropolis."

"The rest? Meaning LexCorp wasn't the only place that was hacked," Lois stated, scribbling furiously into her notepad.

"The hack was so invasive, it wasn't isolated to information networks. Based on pure observation, the very electrical grid suffered under it. Lane, Kent, what we experienced was the most invasive hack in history." It was a grand pronouncement, the kind that Luthor wasn't immune to doing on a regular basis, but this was the CEO's area of expertise. While he had noticed and assumed that the robot had something to do with the electrical fluctuations, he hadn't thought the hack was responsible for it.

"Do you know what it was looking for? Is it a project that LexCorp was currently working on?" Leave it to Lois to remain on track.

"Unfortunately, not at this time," Luthor admitted, his facial features hardening slightly. "As of now, LexCorp has been unable to identify anything specific that the hack was searching for. Since everything was accessed, there is no telling what exactly it was looking for. Now, had we been able to examine the robot's remains and accessed its software, perhaps we could determine what its intentions were. Sadly, the government rounded all of them up and will not speak with us on the matter."

"What makes you think the government is hiding them?"

The dead seriousness Luthor wore morphed into amusement. "A.R.G.U.S. is a government agency with ties to the Pentagon and the White House. The agents who confiscated the robot identified themselves with that agency, so that should save you one question. Seeing as how LexCorp was the target of this hacking, I have been making personal inquiries into the matter with A.R.G.U.S. but my every request has been stonewalled or denied. This hack does not only affect my company, it also affects my customers and anyone who has had any dealings with LexCorp. Private information, such as credit card numbers, bank accounts, and other financial information were picked up in the hack. Now the one responsible is under government custody, when anyone, with the right skillset, can get access to that information. Anyone can tell you it's bad business to allow sensitive information like that to be so vulnerable."

"So if you could get...access to the robot, it would be for the purposes of securing that information?"

"On top of the various government contracts, some of which are classified. While I want nothing more than to have faith with our elected officials, the secrecy bothers me," Luthor added.

It took everything Clark had not to give a sharp bark of laughter to that.

"Have you made any Freedom of Information requests?"

"Several. Now, we're running out of time. I can perhaps answer one more question, but no more than that." Luthor sat up straighter in his highback chair, a sign that he was bringing this interview to a close soon.

If there was only time for one more question, it needed to be a good one. Was there anything the Kryptonian needed to ask, something to satisfy any lingering curiosity he might have? Doubts he would always have towards Luthor; that would never change. However, for the sake of this investigation, he would need to put those doubts to a side for once and see if there was anything else he could get out of this meeting.

"Does LexCorp have any intentions on acquiring or getting access to one of these robots?" He made eye contact with the man who gave him no end of headaches and frustrations.

Luthor's attention was solely on him now. Clark doubted that the man knew who he was looking at, or that he had leveled a similar look towards him before. Luthor's face was entirely blank, much like a poker player's. Behind sharp green eyes, calculations were running through the CEO's head, weighing and debating the various answers he could give and which one would either grant him the most gain or deal him the least damage.

"LexCorp's intentions are to secure any and vital information that should not be in the hands of foreign individuals, be they government bureaucrats or robots with unknown origins. Now, I believe that is all the time I have. Mercy will show you the way out." Luthor's voice was calm even, and in no way showed any signs of concern or humor or even anger.

"No need. We know the way out," Lois excused them. Then to him, her fellow colleague, she commanded, "Come, Kent. We've got work to do."

Looking away from the business tycoon and up to a more preferable sight, Clark nodded his head and pushed himself out of his seat. He had barely taken a step away when the doors on the far end of the office opened and Mercy waiting for them to come close. As they passed her, the reporter felt the intense stare the bodyguard gave them, never letting them leave her sights until they were informally escorted to the elevators.

Only after the doors were closed did Lois let out a deep exhale. "Okay, Smallville, what do you think."

Glancing at the smaller reporter, he answered, "He's hiding something."

"That goes without saying," Lois cut off. "Besides the obvious, what do you think?"

Practically automatic, Clark was about to give her an answer similar to his first one, but he stopped himself to really think about it. "It's funny," he said after a moment. "It was as if he was being honest, and yet dishonest at the same time."

"He gave away a lot of information in a short amount of time," Lois agreed. "For a guy who keeps a lot of stuff to himself, this was like he was unloading his personal feelings into his diary, or whatever grown men call their special books. He didn't even consult with a lawyer, like he usually does."

"Meaning he wants us to publish everything he said in there," Clark finished, his frown growing deeper by the second. It was second nature not to trust Luthor, but what was the man up to that this was the approach he was taking? Something was off, completely, but at the same time there was nothing he could go on.

"And we're going to have to because this qualifies as exclusive and Perry will want to print anything to give the Planet an edge," the hotheaded woman confirmed. "We have quotes, but all of it was carefully chosen, and on the spot no less. Sometimes you do have to give Lex credit; he can think on his toes at the drop of a hat."

It was another element to add to this investigation, if nothing else. The stories about databases being hacked while the power gird was interrupted was confirmed here in Metropolis. What did it all mean, though? What were those robots after in the first place?

It seemed more questions had been found, some more distracting than others. Such distractions couldn't be allowed if there was a threat approaching the planet, one with as of now unknown intentions.

Two invasions were already enough, they didn't need a third one.

The computer alerted Batman to his visitor's approach. The sensors throughout his property ensured no one could pass through the airspace without him knowing. That it was the Martian Manhunter plunged him into a dichotomy of emotions.

On the one hand, he trusted J'onn and was comfortable in the man's presence—as much as he would allow himself to be. On the other, the Martian didn't come to the Cave unless invited. He did not make social calls. That meant something was up and the Dark Knight dreaded what that might entail.

So he kept himself busy until the green man landed a short distance away. "Batman," he greeted him.

"J'onn," Batman returned, not even turning around to address him. Instead he continued with his work. "To what do I owe your visit here?"

"Assistance, if that is acceptable."

That caused Batman to glance over his shoulder at the Martian. That was an unusual request. Considering the resources he and the Justice League had, for him to come to his house was strange. "What do you need assistance with?" he ventured.

J'onn closed the distance between them with three long strides. Moving a hand out from beneath his blue cape, he held out a flash drive. "I have been studying one of the recovered robots and have come to an impasse. I was wondering if you would have better luck."

The vigilante looked down to the flash drive, then back to J'onn's face. "I've had my company look into a piece of the robot that attacked Gotham. All they were able to come up with was that it wasn't something made on Earth."

"I'm assuming they were only looking at the hardware at the time." It was said more as a suggestion than a statement, but Batman could not fault the man with that logic. So he nodded his agreement. "Have they looked into the software?"

"I certainly hope so." He looked at the flash drive again. "I'm assuming there's a file of it on the drive."

"Indeed. The League computer was unable to decipher it, nor find a corresponding language to translate it into. I was hoping your computer could make some progress."

Reaching up to accept the drive, Batman took it and placed it into a USB port on the computer panel. "Let's have a look," he murmured. While he doubted he'd make much more progress than J'onn did, at the very least this would give him another avenue of investigation.

A moment later and a window appeared, line after line of code writing itself from the top of the box to the bottom. Just staring at it, Batman could see why J'onn had come to a stop; he couldn't make any sense of it either. All of the symbols were ones he had never seen before. Sure there were a couple that had some semblance to an Earth symbol, but he rather doubted it had the same meaning. "Computer: analyze the code," he ordered.

Immediately, the computer began to process the command. Then the dark-clad man addressed the Martian. "What languages did you try?"

"I compared it to several Earth-based alphabets with no success," J'onn reported. "I then tried Martian and Kalanorian and received the same result. Kryptonian and Thanagarian were the same."

So he had tried most of what the vigilante would have done. That limited what else they could do. Minutes passed by before the computer finished processing. A new window appeared and revealed what he was expecting—which was no conclusive results.

J'onn's shoulders dropped, but he did not say anything. His disappointment was obvious enough.

Returning to the original window, Batman began striking the down arrow key, scrolling down the window and coming to a quick stop. This caused him to frown. "Is this just a portion of the code?" he asked.

J'onn nodded. "This is what I was able to retrieve from the robot. I too was surprised by the limited amount of code."

"Most artificial intelligence requires much more code than this," Batman mused. "And yet this more advanced robot requires a fraction of that. Either these symbols allow for a more efficient processing or…" he trailed off before he began typing a new command into the computer.

"Or?" J'onn prodded.

"Just a second, I want to try something." Hitting the ENTER key, the computer began performing the command. Another few minutes passed by before he received a result. "The code is stacked onto itself," Batman read out loud. "Each layer is blending, imprinting itself onto the layer below it, creating completely new characters. I imagine the hardware within the robots are able to interpret the code this way, or are able to disassemble it into its correct state."

J'onn was frowning at this. "I've never heard of that before. My people wrote code just like Earth does."

"I'm assuming the same goes for Kalanor, Thanagar, and Krypton," the dark-clad man said. Then, "Computer: destack code and report as one level. Compare to all known alphabets, domestic and alien."

Again, the computer went to work. It wasn't long before several knew windows appeared, the code appearing in three distinct boxes, the code appearing very different from the original. It was several minutes more before one last window appeared, reporting no correlation with a known language.

"Damn," Batman swore. He had been hoping pulling the code out to its full length would have gotten them more progress. Whomever had made this thing was much more advanced than he had originally thought, something he was not happy about.

Suddenly, J'onn pointed at a symbol. "There, I recognize that symbol," he said.

The vigilante glanced to the Martian. "What is it?"

The green man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked intently at the code-filled windows, studying them intently. Finally, he responded, "I'm seeing many symbols from the Kryptonian alphabet. They're random at best and none make a cohesive sentence, but they are in there."

Batman was about to protest this before a thought occurred to him. While he was certain his computer would have caught onto this, it would have required having Kryptonian in its database. While there was some, there wasn't enough for the computer to identify. That was something he was going to have the remedy rather quickly.

"So what does that mean for us?" he inquired after a moment.

"I'm not sure," J'onn admitted. "However, the person that wrote this code knows some Kryptonian, enough to use it for code-writing purposes."

Well, that was enlightening. So their mysterious invader was familiar with Krypton. Batman wasn't sure how to feel about this. After all, there were only so many people that were familiar with that language and most of them were dead. That left only the former planet's surrounding inhabitants as likely suspects.

And if they lived around a red sun, the potential for them to receive powers via a yellow sign was quite likely.

Suddenly, Batman didn't like where this investigation was going.

It was an unfamiliar feeling.

Diana stood on the observation deck of the Watchtower, staring out onto the lovely blue planet that was Earth. It was normally a view she found captivating, a beautiful blue orb in a black, star-twinkling sea.

Yet, she found she could not admire the scene. Her mind was stuck on the encounter with Steve Trevor. He had been one of the first men she had encountered in Man's World, shattering her preconceived notices on what a man was. As someone that strove to better herself, learning a group did not speak for the individual was one of her first lessons. She had been told since birth that Man was just as lowly as a beast, acting on nothing more than primal instinct. Their evil knew no bounds. But then she had met Steven and he was nothing like the image she had held for so long. He was courageous and kind, honorable. And he was only the first of such men as she soon came to find out.

But as welcoming as he had been, this change in him was startling. At one time she could have counted on him to help her any way he could; yet, he had blatantly stonewalled her. The warmth in his eyes had dimmed and it seemed he no longer wished to assist her as he once had. She understood being beholden to one's leader, so she could not fault him there.

Diana could still remember times that Steve had gone against his leadership, however. When it came to the greater good, he always did what he deemed necessary to help as many people as he could. Had that changed? Or had he come to the belief that he could help more people by not aligning himself with her?

She knew this feeling. Though it was new to her, she recognized it, could put a name to it. It was rejection and it was something she was finding that she despised.

Yes, she had faced rejection before, but it had always been with a differing of opinion. Someone refused to acknowledge her point of view, or they were clearly an opponent. She had encountered belief systems that she found abhorrent, but these same systems had thrived for centuries, never mind their elevation of one particular group over another. In these cases, it was a simple matter of defeating her foe, or acknowledging that it was going to take a long time to convince others that their current beliefs were unjust.

No, this was not a rejection of ideals. This was a rejection of self—herself. In that one encounter, Steve Trevor had rejected her. It left a sickening feeling inside of her stomach. Bile poisoned the back of her throat.

It was similar to Bruce's rejection of her. At that time, it was the first time she had experienced it, so it was raw and painful. This was less so in that she could recognize what was going on, not to mention she was not as emotionally invested. It didn't mean it was any less painful, but she was not completely blindsided and bewildered.

What was going on? Men she had held in such high esteem were turning from her. Were there more on the way? Though it was a small sample size, there was one common denominator here and that was her. How did the others put it? Once was happenstance, twice was coincidence?

Diana was beginning to think a pattern was developing. What had she done that caused these men she so respected to distance themselves from her? She couldn't understand it. And worse, neither one seemed to want to tell her why they were doing so. It was maddening.

So what was happening? Both men she had come close to, bestowing upon them her trust and respect. They had earned that. And then...then they pulled away. Was there something they did not like? She had known Steve for a long time and she was certain she had not wronged him in any way. Why, the last time they had spoken was…

Diana frowned. Now that she thought about it, it had been a long time since they had communicated. Was that a factor in the change in Steve? It was at least something she could look into and, hopefully, was correctable.

As for Bruce, she had been more romantically-inclined—at least, that had been her intent the closer they had become. He was a closed-off individual admittedly, but she noticed he behaved differently with her than he did the others. The others he kept at arm's length, but with her...there was something.

And then he vanished for a month, going undercover, then returned and he had put an ocean's distance between them. Even now, after all this time, that still stung. Not for the first time did she wonder what had happened during that month that changed his view of her. All of her attempts at communicating with him since had ended in failure. The rest of the League had experienced the same thing, though for some reason Bruce had no problem with J'onn. He was the only one he seemed to tolerate now.

Diana felt her hands tighten into fists. This had gone on long enough. She had respected his wishes to an extent. She had tried to be diplomatic with him, but he hadn't deign her with even a conversation. It had been long enough that she was owed that much.

She would be getting that conversation soon. Once this new threat was dealt with that is. Though she had a feeling that perhaps things might come sooner than expected.

As evening descended on Metropolis, Luthor descended into the bowls of LexCorp. An alert for an update to the basement level project had been forwarded to him, and now he was on his way to acquaint himself with the development.

"I know you have your reasons, Lex, but I am still wondering why you chose to speak with those reporters. We can't trust them." Mercy appeared to still have misgivings about the spontaneous interview the mogul had granted earlier, and normally, Lex would agree with her.

There was a reason why he was one of the wealthiest men in the world.

"It's about message," he stated, staring straight ahead at the closed elevator doors. "People will always form conclusions, whether or not you tell them anything. However, when the opportunity to choose what opinions they make comes along, you have to seize it."

Though facing straight ahead, Mercy glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "What opinion do you want people to make?"

"That in this incident, LexCorp has nothing to hide, but someone else does. Sometimes, you have to give people a target to focus their suspicions and paranoias to. Worst case scenario, it's a small distraction. Best case, the person or people whom you have scapegoated now have to spend time and resources fighting the suspicion and paranoia. That's time and resources they cannot spend coming after you." Lex allowed his lips to curl into the smallest of smiles once he finished speaking.

For a moment, his right hand woman was silent. "You aimed them at A.R.G.U.S. deliberately."

Luthor nodded his head. "It is only a matter of time until A.R.G.U.S. figures out they are missing one of these robots. A thorough investigation will lead them to their leak, and while cash is nearly impossible to trace, we cannot rely on our sticky fingered friend to remain silent. We have to count on him blabbing his mouth, and rely on the methods we used to cover our tracks. However, if A.R.G.U.S. happens to find itself in a media blitz, any opportunistic politician will jump at the chance to attack and score some political points. If they are too busy fending off zealous crusaders, it buys us more time to get all we can out of this machine. Every second counts."

No sooner had he finished speaking did the elevator doors slide open, revealing the long hallway in the lower levels. Not missing a beat, the CEO strolled forward, moving at a fast pace which was the only thing to give away his anticipation. Mercy followed after him, as was expected.

"So you turn various government figures against each other, creating a smokescreen that will delay any investigation as more manpower is allocated to defending the agency's integrity," the bodyguard summed up.

"And all it takes is a few words in a reporter's ear to get the ball rolling," Lex chuckled, his designer shoes clacking against the linoleum floor.

Minutes later, the pair arrived at their destination, back in the large R&D sector, specifically the area reserved for Luthor's latest venture. Moving towards a small set of stairs, the CEO led the way down them, heading towards the table where the appropriated robot laid, a veritable mess of wires now connected to it. To the bald man's satisfaction, the chest region was open, giving the eyes the sight to behold. The circuitry, the skeletal structure, all of it was on display and for a man who's passion was technology, this could only be considered one of the wonders of the world.

Looking away from it, Luthor zeroed in on the man who was heading the project, one among the many men and women who wore white labcoats and were either standing at various stations or walking to and from various areas. This man in particular had a mop of black hair with a thick mustache, and a pair of glasses.

"Dr. Happersen, what have you found?" the business mogul asked pleasantly, though his question was more of an order. He was eager to learn more about this marvelous creation.

"Mr. Luthor," Happersen greeted. "We've managed to access the software, sir, and have begun to download all we can from it. If you look towards this screen," the scientist gestured to a large, almost billboard-sized monitor, "the data we have retrieved can be seen there. As you can see, it appears this coding for this robot was done in a different language and we are currently working to decipher it."

Moving away from the table, Luthor approached the screen, looking up at the various symbols that to him meant absolutely nothing. Logically, he knew that if one were to do programming of any kind, it would be in a manner they felt comfortable with. His disappointment came in as this would pose as an obstacle. How could one learn anything if they didn't understand what they were working with?

It was almost insulting that after all this effort, he was now being confronted with coded gibberish.

"Before you arrived, one of the techs found something interesting," Happersen continued. The tycoon continued to look at the screen, but it was clear that he was listening. "Initially, when we ran the code, we couldn't believe how short it was. Nothing as sophisticated as this robot should work the way it has been reported with the amount of code we found. Then we discovered that the coding is stacked on top of itself. When we began to unstack, we began to see how intricate it truly is. It's been very exciting, and these first symbols you see are the first ones we have been able decode, though we still lack a translation."

"Show me the code in its original form, I want it side by side with the new form," Luthor ordered. Immediately, a technician went to work on the request, and in a moment, the businessman had a side by side comparison of the symbols. The original code looked nothing like its unstacked form, yet if the bald man looked hard enough, he could see the outlines of the first symbol inlaid a top the stacked version.

"I've never seen anything like this before in my life," Luthor uttered, unable to hold back the admission. There was complexity and simplicity all wrapped into one here. If only he could understand it. This right here was a revolution in programming, one begging to happen. Where could humanity go with this? What new weapons could be produced based on this style of coding? Could this be used as a means to develop new cybersecurity programs? The applications from this alone was endless, yet, Luthor couldn't help but think there something familiar about this way of coding.

Which was preposterous. There was no programmer on earth that had ever created a digital code like this one. However, there was a code that did exist that followed the same principle as this one. The major difference, though, was that it was biological in nature.

"It's like DNA," he remarked. "A digital version of DNA."

Which meant there was a way to translate it. Thanks to the Human Genome Project, it was possible to not only decode but translate a code like this. With DNA, it had the same sequences, adenine paired with thymine and cytosine with guanine. Genetic information was read by chaining enough of these pairs so that it meant something, such as skin color, hair traits, and even vulnerabilities to illness.

So what could be the digital Rosetta stone he needed to translate it? Which symbols were the equivalent to adenine, and which were cytosine? With no bases to go on, or even a starting point, to try and translate would foolish.

Then epiphany struck.

"It's so simple," he muttered. Turning to Happersen, "How are we getting those symbols on the screen?"

"I beg your pardon?" the scientist answered, not grasping what Luthor was trying to point out.

Gesturing to the large screen with a hand, "The reason we see those symbols on the monitor is that our software is encoding this very code, and reading it off to produce them so that to our eyes, that is what it looks like. However, all computers on Earth use binary code, a system of zeros and ones that separate mean nothing, but when strung together in a sequence has meaning to a computer.

"What I want you to do is to find out the binary code behind each and every symbol, then I want you to find the English equivalent of that binary sequence. That's how we'll translate it."

Happersen looked flummoxed, but nodded his head slowly. "Are you certain about this? I don't think anyone's done—"

"We're not anyone, we're LexCorp. We're not just the cutting edge of technology, we're the bleeding edge," Luthor interrupted, giving his employee a stern glare. "Everyone will rely on the old way and will end up where we are, stuck. We have to be creative if we want to get anywhere, and do you have a better idea? If not, get to translating. I want an update for everything you find, and when I deem it important enough, I will pay you a visit then and not before. Show me you're one of the best and brightest minds on the planet, Happersen, or I'll go out and hire someone who can."

Happersen nodded quickly, his head almost bobbing with the force he used. "I'll get right on it myself. I'll handle it personally."

Allowing his lips to pull back and reveal teeth, Luthor expressed a grin that was akin to that of a shark. "Good man. I expect to hear great things from you."

Turning away from the monitor and Happersen, the business mogul started to make his way to the exit, Mercy following faithfully behind him. The clock was still ticking, and he needed to make sure his research team had all the time they had to get him what he wanted. More obstacles, more distractions, the works; anything that could buy one extra second of time would be needed.

It was an exciting day for LexCorp, and the days that followed it would prove to be just as exciting.

FlackAttack: It's good to hear you're still enjoying this series, and both ShadowMajin and I thank you for letting us know your thoughts with each review you send in. It's good to know we're on the right track with keeping people engaged, especially after what, sixteen, seventeen stories? The only think I can think of is to keep going as long as we can and hopefully keep you entertained until the bitter end. Thanks for reviewing and enjoying.