Superman was slowly beginning to realize that patience was not one of his better qualities
It had been about forty minutes since the technicians began the never before attempted system reset. In that time, Superman had stood silently near the far wall and watched them work.
He watched them first issue commands that initiated a switch in the power feed from the reactors and turbines, to a large collection of storage units located in another location of the plant. He watched the large monitors as they cycled off the reactors functions, starting with the extraction of the uranium fuel rods. A large robotic arm swung down from the ceiling and seemed to dig into the small pool of coolant, and then counter clockwise, completing nine full revolutions. When it retracted finally, there was a long cylindrical casing attached to the end. It was roughly the length and diameter of a baseball bat. The casing was lined horizontally with wide slits, the uranium rod inside glowed with a fine golden hue the color of hazards lights in the blue-blackness of the reactor chamber.
The next were the control rods. Long silver tinted rods slid out of the coolant simultaneously, all rising from the still liquid like silent sentries or futuristic trees. No robotic arm swept down to prune the metallic forest; instead the rods stood resolute, three feet high, in the chamber.
Flushing the coolant was relatively quick. There was a pump built into the drain. The coolant itself was recycled regularly as it was, but the pumping system allowed for the coolant to be transferred faster. The speed of the pump could even be adjusted to allow for faster circulation, a precaution designed just in case the reactor began to overheat. The coolant could be pumped into the room, used to cool the reactor dramatically, or until the coolant itself reached critical, then it could be flushed and fresh coolant pumped in.
Now, they were cycling through the rest of the operating systems, shutting them down one by one.
Superman watched the process on the monitors, and then, through the walls of the control room. It was built fifty yards away and sixty feet up, overlooking both chambers. Directly below them was the scrub room. Dr. Yamamoto had explained that it housed the protective gear for the technicians and maintenance crew; heat resistant radiation suits to be exact. The scrub room was for just that purpose, scrubbing the equipment clean in a special chemical bath after anytime spent in the reactor chambers. It helped to eliminate radiation sickness and contamination.
Superman looked down at the room, and out at the entire expanse curiously.
"This must be what it feels like to be you." this from Agent Davison.
Superman looked at him. "What do you mean?"
Davison was looking down at the scrub room as well. "Standing on thin air, looking through walls; little unsettling really."
"You get used to it."
"Somehow… I seriously doubt that." Davison said flatly.
"Alright," he heard Dr. Mullen say. "The fuel rods are in the containment units. The control rods are raised! The coolant's flushed, and ninety-five percent of Metropolis is running off of batteries. All the major systems have been shut-down, and the only systems left are the mains, and this room." He took a heavy breath. "Are we absolutely sure we want to do this?" he asked finally.
Everyone in the room exchanged nervous glances. Mullen looked at Morales. Morales looked at Yamamoto. Yamamoto looked at Davison. Davison looked at Superman. Superman looked at them all. The silence lasted a long moment.
The tension lasted longer.
Superman nodded finally.
"Do it." Agent Davison instructed.
Dr. Mullen sighed. "Here we go." he said softly. "And if you hear a strange popping sound, don't worry… it's just my sphincter shrinking."
He punched the final commands into the system.
The 3-D overlay was the first to fade. The words, numbers, and readouts that hovered over their respective areas all blinked off simultaneously. Then, the transparent walls, floor, and ceiling became cloudy and opaque once again. The monitors were next, blinking out of existence as quickly as they had appeared.
And finally, with just a few keystrokes, the virtual keyboard vanished, and the room went dim.
Agent Davison let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
They all stood there silently, looking around the now muted, off white room, dark shadows on everyone's faces.
"Now what?" Davison asked after a long moment.
"We wait." Dr. Yamamoto answered.
"Wait for what?" this from Superman.
"Well, it's kind of like hitting restart on your laptop." Mullen explained. "We have to wait for the system to boot back up. Should only take a few minutes. Unless…"
"Unless what?" Davison asked.
"Unless we complete screwed up everything and the system crashed, then Superman would have to pry the doors apart to get us out of this room and we'd have to run this place with a candle and a calculator…" he glanced at Davison then and smiled. "But that wouldn't bother you too much, would it?"
Agent Davison had a scathing remark prepared, but never got to it.
There was a beep, and the room became a lot brighter.
"YES!" Mullen shouted, clapping his hands together. In front of him, the small point of light was back. He pressed it and the virtual keyboard flashed back to life. He entered a command and the monitors reappeared, although, this time, they were dark and blank, or marked with a command prompt in the upper left-hand corner of the screen.
"Overlay." Mullen shouted happily.
Nothing happened.
"Overlay." He said again, and again, the room remained opaque.
"What's wrong?" Davison asked.
Dr. Morales had erected her own virtual keyboard and was working furiously. The screen in front of her was scrolling quickly through lines of code and various programs.
"It appears they voice activated controls are off-line. As are most of the systems; including the security feeds, chamber controls, coolant systems, and overlays. The reset worked, but we're back at square one."
"Ugh!" Mullen rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. "I told you this would happen! Damnit!"
"Easy there, 'Red'." Davison said. "We knew what we were getting into. The important thing is that the reactors are safe and we stopped the meltdown. Now, all we have to do is—"
"What's that sound?" Superman asked.
Every one looked at him.
His brow was creased with concentration. He was staring intently at the far wall.
"What do you hear?" Dr. Yamamoto asked.
"Sounds like servo motors and pistons. It's coming from the reactors. They're lined with lead, so I can't see inside them, but there's definitely something moving inside them."
"The arms?" Dr. Yamamoto puzzled.
Mullen was working furiously at his keyboard. His monitor was scrolling quickly through programs. "The arms are activated. They are running on auto. Looks like they are trying to insert the fuel rods into the reactors."
"That sounds bad…" Davison noted.
"It would be," Mullen replied. "But the reactors are off, so the fuel rods won't do anything…"
A tremor ran through the entire expanse. There was a loud horn, followed by a vibrating sensation.
Everyone froze.
"Was that what I think it was?" Davison asked.
"The reactors are online!" Morales shouted. "The reaction process is about to begin!"
"Activate the coolant process." Dr. Yamamoto shouted.
"I'm trying!" Mullen answered. "The program needs to be reinstalled. I'm trying to start the sequence manually, but it's not working."
"The control rods are not functioning either." Morales added. "I can't get them to retract. If they are not embedded when the process starts, the cores will overheat."
"Shut them down!" Superman shouted.
"I can't!" Mullen screamed. "The reactors control systems aren't responding! I'm trying everything. Nothing working!"
Superman was suddenly beside him. "Listen very closely," he said calmly. "If you don't find a way to shut down those reactors, two and a half million people may die."
"That's really not helping…" Mullen replied as he typed furiously into the keyboard. Beads of sweat wear forming on his brow.
And then, the room went black.
The keyboards vanished, as did the monitors; even the opaque walls went completely dark.
"What the hell just happened?" Davison asked.
No one answered. No one moved.
A moment later, the emergency lights flashed to life from the upper corners of the room, throwing shadows everywhere.
"WHAT. THE. HELL. JUST. HAPPENED?" Davison shouted.
"The power went out." Superman answered.
"Really?" Davison asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me try a different question then: why the hell did the power just go out?!"
"Oh man…" Mullen was muttering and pacing back and forth. "Oh man… We are so screwed. We are so totally screwed. I mean pull your pants down, grab your ankles and hold on tight cause we are so totally screwed!"
Dr. Morales was standing as still as a statue. Her eyes were closed and she was barely breathing. The only part's of her body that moved were her hands, which were wrapped around her crucifix, stroking back and forth across the hand etched surface; and her lips, which moved furiously as she prayed silently in Spanish.
Dr. Yamamoto looked at Superman, his eyes both apologetic and pleading. When he spoke, his voice was soft and cracked slightly. "It seems the sudden surge in power from the reactor has fried our systems. We have lost power to the plant."
"So what are you saying?" Davison asked, stepping forward. "The entire plant is dead. Everything!?"
"No…" Superman said softly. "Not everything. Listen…"
They looked at him together, each of them almost immediately realizing what he was talking about.
The reactors were still operationally. And still powering up.
"Dear God." Yamamoto whispered.
"There goes the lube!" Mullen shouted, throwing his hands up.
Dr. Morales was speechless.
Davison was suddenly pale.
Superman was silent.
The room was filled with silence for several long tense seconds that seemed to drag on forever.
"How long?" Superman asked finally.
Dr. Yamamoto seemed to consider the question for a moment. "It's difficult to tell, but at best guess… roughly twenty minutes."
Superman and Davison locked eyes.
"He knew!" Davison fumed. "He knew we'd try to purge the virus with a system reset and the son of a bitch sabotaged it!"
Superman silently wished he had something to hit. Whoever was behind this seemed to constantly be one step ahead them; and Superman was growing weary of playing catch-up.
Standing in a small dark room, surrounded by a trio of geniuses that were as baffled by their current predicament as he was, and a federal agent who was equal parts intelligent, perpetually pissed of, and pain in the ass.
The only thing Superman could be thankful for was the fact that, since they city's power grids had been switched over to the plants back-up batteries, Lois, were ever she was, was relatively safe from the treat of further electrocution.
In the darkness of the control room, the sound of "Chainsaws and Lipstick", a song by the Flaming Love Monkeys, began playing and growing in volume.
It took them a minute to realize the sound was coming from Agent Davison's pocket.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and pressed a key.
"Davison!" he barked. "What?... Sanders?... I can't hear you! Are you in the chopper?... WHAT!? … WHEN!?..."
Everyone in the room was holding their breath and staring at Davison, including Superman. He looked at them, his face pale, his eyes a mixture of fear, anger, and frustration. He pulled the phone from his face and tried three times to speak.
And while the others were waiting for the news, Superman had heard every word.
The control room wasn't the only thing that had lost power.
As of three minutes ago, Metropolis was completely blacked-out.