Chapter 2
Metropolis – 2016
"Damn it, Lane, you're not some stringer that wandered in off the street with a story. You're a reporter for the Daily Planet and I know that because I hired you!" he bellowed as he rose from his desk. "For God's sake, act like one and don't make me regret hiring you. Report the stories I assign to you, not ones that you think are newsworthy. You got it?" Perry White was in peak form, having another apparent Friday morning 'counseling session' just before the weekend.
His office was just above the bullpen level floor which put him about half a story above street level. He liked being close to the bullpen because that was where the action was. Other sections of the newspaper resided in different floors of the Daily Planet building and they worked their stories and articles at a more deliberate pace. The bullpen was controlled chaos in Perry's mind.
Looking around his office, one could easily mistake him for a diplomat, a politician, or a rich benefactor. He had pictures of himself with four different US presidents, Queen Elizabeth, five US senators, famous actors of stage and screen, and several baseball players. He had awards on his walls and shelves from various literary groups to include his very own Pulitzer for journalism, earned over two decades earlier. Anyone who spent more than fifteen seconds in Perry White's office knew they were in the presence of a distinguished and accomplished man.
"Look Chief," Ron Troupe began, "I'll straighten this out. I take full responsibility for what Lois has done. I knew she was working on this story on the side, and I just didn't sit on her hard enough to make sure she got her work done first."
"What the hell?" Lois protested. "This is a damn good story, and it needs to see the light of day! I don't need a babysitter, Chief. I need more freedom to investigate what is rotten to the core here. Lex Luthor…"
Her editor in chief slapped his meaty hand on his desk. "Lex Luthor is considered by most in this town as its de facto king, Lane. If you try to kill the king, you need a lot more than this." He threw her article onto his desk. "You haven't even talked to the man, have you? Now you may be right about his connections to corruption in St. Louis, but people in Metropolis really do not give a flying fu..."
"Chief!" Ron interrupted. Perry shot a fiery glance at his most level-headed reporter. "I'll take care of it." He turned to Lois. "Miss Lane, button it! We'll talk about this in my office. Let's go!" Lois did not move. "Now, Lois," he insisted.
"You better listen to Ron while you still have a job here, Lane," Perry warned. "I assigned you to him for a reason. That man has won more journalism awards himself than all the other reporters combined. You'd do well to follow his lead instead of getting lost in a forest of your own making." Lois looked combative and cocked her head as if she was ready to launch into her own tirade. "Go! Get out of here before I change my mind and just fire you on the spot!" he barked.
She did an about face and left Perry's office without another word. Once Lois had departed with Ron and was no longer in sight, Perry sat back down in his chair and began to chuckle. He read her draft about the corruption in St. Louis, and it was a good story. Too bad his friend Andrew Busby was so beholden to his publisher. The story needed more work, in his opinion, but she had a nose for this sort of thing, and he liked the story and the direction it was headed. It just was not the story he had assigned her to work on and she needed to be reminded of that.
Perry White was a living legend in the world of journalism in Metropolis. He had been the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet for years after working his way up the ladder. He was in his late fifties but looked older than his age, the stress of running a newspaper in the 21st century had taken its toll on him. Grey hair streaked through his temples and on top of his head. He was paunchy but fairly tall, standing about six feet, weighing roughly 245 pounds, and was usually seen with his sleeves rolled up midway on his forearms and his tie loosened. His ruddy complexion often made his greying hair look more silver than the salt and pepper tones it had. He was an old-time newspaper man, not some slick business school graduate and because of that, he had earned the absolute respect and affection of his reporters and staff. He knew every job at the paper and had performed most of them.
Ron Troupe wrote the political column and occasionally authored editorials for the Daily Planet. He had worked for Perry White for nearly fifteen years and had earned his doctorate in communications and a master's degree in journalism. His articles were polished and important works of journalism that had garnered him dozens of awards except one, a Pulitzer. Among all the awards Ron Troupe had accumulated over the years for his reporting and editorials, the prestigious Pulitzer award for journalism had managed to elude Ron's trophy cabinet.
Perry had assigned Lois to work under Ron's tutelage when he hired her a little over three months ago, based on the recommendation of his old friend and competitor, Andrew Busby, the editor in chief of the St. Louis Daily News. She had been highly recommended by Busby, who regretted having to fire her, but he did so at the insistence of the newspaper's owner, Walter Billingsley.
Ron enjoyed mentoring Lois and showing her the ropes at the Daily Planet. She was a ball of energy, an unstoppable force at times, and utterly tenacious when it came to getting to the bottom of a story. Troupe considered Lois a rare commodity at the Daily Planet. To him, she was a natural journalist with instincts that could not be taught and a clarity of vision in a story that saw through the smoke and mirrors that were often employed to deflect a nefarious act or intention.
With only a two-year degree, Lois Lane was writing articles that easily eclipsed the best works of some of the more seasoned reporters that had four or more years of college under their belts. She had the ability to see the story within the story that would interest the reader rather than simply reporting facts. Her objectivity could use some oversight and her spelling was occasionally appalling, but that was a role for her editor to play. His responsibility was getting her acclimated to the Daily Planet way of doing the job and he had to admit, Lois was among the best he had ever mentored.
"Look, Lois," Ron began when the two of them reached his office, "that article is really good and I think under the right conditions, Perry will run with it. But you can't just pick and choose what to work on. That's Perry's job and he's been doing it since the invention of dirt."
Lois exhaled, reluctantly admitting that maybe she could have focused a little more of her attention on the assignment she had been given. But then added, "Do you really think people want to buy a paper or an online subscription to read about a city council discussion over a bed tax increase? I don't. People in Metropolis don't pay bed taxes, out of towners do."
"Granted, out of towners pay bed taxes and locals don't. But you think people care more about corruption in St. Louis than Metropolis hotels generating more revenue for city improvements?" Ron countered calmly.
"Not on the surface. But when it involves Lex Luthor, I think they might be more interested in it." She sat down in an empty chair in front of his desk and crossed her arms. "Ron, that's what people need to know. They need to know what Luthor may be up to instead of just lionizing a guy because he donates a lot of money for city projects. He's buying good will and that's it."
Troupe listened and liked what he was hearing, and he would tell Perry that once the boss calmed down. "But how is that different from any elected politician, Lois? He buys their good will with money; politicians buy their votes with promises."
"Where do each one's hands end up? Politicians end up with their hand on my wallet. We know it and we expect it." Lois said. "Lex runs around making it rain cash and in return, he 'earns' people's loyalty and affection. So, when he buys up affordable housing buildings and tears them down to build a plant that offers jobs but does not pay the workers at that plant enough to find alternative housing, people just look the other way and dismiss it as him doing the greater good. He's brought more jobs to Metropolis." She looked at Ron. "He might not have his hands on my wallet but he's hoping to have them covering my eyes."
"Interesting take, Lois. And for the record, I agree with you," her mentor replied. "But that will take some time to expose. Right now, all you have is a corrupt city in Missouri where some kid and mother got charges dropped against them and some rather tenuous ties to Mr. Luthor."
"There's also the matter of a dead computer genius," she added.
"That you can't tie directly to anyone, let alone Lex Luthor," he countered.
"Not yet," she replied sullenly. "You know, Luthor always makes a speech when he donates money to some cause. The cameras are there, and the mayor is usually there shaking his hand and smiling. But does he ever get his hands dirty doing something without it being a promoted event? No! He doesn't sacrifice anything for Metropolis but people here act like he's skipping meals so that he has enough left over at the end of the month to donate to their city. It's ridiculous!"
Troupe smiled. "I love your passion, Lois. I hope you never lose it because with that, it won't be long before you have more awards in your trophy case than I do. But you must be more tactical when you take on stories like this. You can't show your hand. You've been too up-front about what your angle is." Ron got up from his chair, walked around his desk and sat on the corner of it. "You need to practice the art of surprise, not gotcha journalism, Lois. You have to be more deft concealing the real angle you're taking on a story like this. Do you know what I mean?" She nodded and was listening. "You can't go after someone like Lex Luthor thinking that you'll get what you need with what my dad used to call 'bullshit and band music'." Lois cracked a smile.
"With your background, I assume you understand what tactical means. That's the way you approach a story like this, Lois." He paused and stood back up. "But not until you're finished with the work you've been assigned by the Chief. He's got a boss to satisfy and a paper to put out that won't be sued for libel." He returned to his chair. "Tactical, Lois," he explained. "It is a derivative of the word, tact. And tact is something that you need to use more often. Now go out and finish the job that Perry gave you and let me take a look at it before you submit it. Okay?"
"Okay," she said but not angrily. Ron Troupe had been a good insulator between her fiery side and Perry White's fiery side. He also seemed to genuinely want to help Lois, not just lecture or subordinate her. "I appreciate your help, Ron. I really do," she said and walked out of his office.
On the way to her desk in the bullpen, Lois ran into Cat Grant.
Catherine "Cat" Grant was Perry White's personal assistant for three and a half years before being promoted to society columnist for the Daily Planet. An attractive woman, lithe, with dark auburn hair, green eyes, and in her late twenties, Cat considers Lois a rival for the men's attention in the office. Lois is the younger, prettier, fresher face in the Daily Planet bullpen and being that made her a target for Cat's barbs. For her part, Lois shows no amorous interest in the men at the Daily Planet and that irritates Cat. She believes that Lois thinks she is in some way superior to her by not craving the attention of the men at the Planet the way Cat does.
"It's almost Christmas, Lois," Cat says, and follows Lois to the bullpen. "Are you bringing anyone to the Daily Planet Christmas party?"
"When is it?" Lois asks, absently.
"December 23rd, Lois. That's in twenty days." Cat waited for a reply and getting none, she added, "I guess that's a no."
Lois reached her desk and sat down. She looked up at Cat. "You know, I haven't really given it much thought, Cat. My attention has been elsewhere."
"Well, we all know that after this morning," Cat said, smirking. "We could hear Perry all the way to the bullpen." She sat on the corner of Lois's desk and leaned forward. "Perry is a great boss if you just do what he asks, Lois."
"Right. Ron mentioned that this morning too." She looked up at Cat. "Thanks for the tip. Now, do you have something to do today, Cat, because I don't believe my desk will float away if you're not sitting on it and I'm pretty busy."
One of the men in the bullpen chuckled and Cat stood up. "That's your problem, Lane. You're always busy with work and never getting busy with anyone. Maybe if you had someone in your life, you'd have something other than work to occupy your time."
"Maybe so," Lois began, flashing a fake smile, "and then maybe we'd have something to talk about. But until then, I have work to do."
Cat started to leave and looked back, smiling. "Just offering a little work-life balance advice, Lois. Remember, twenty days. Christmas party at the University of Metropolis banquet hall, usually pretty epic. Lots of music, food, free booze, and all that follows. Heck, even some college boys," she concluded with a wink. "Some are pretty cute. Maybe you could pick up a date on the way in."
Lois rolled her eyes and looked at the assignment that Perry had given her two days earlier. She knew what she had to do and planned to get it done before noon. She began organizing her plan and pulling together what she would need.
Try as she might, she could not ignore the comments that Cat made. They had gotten under her skin and she wondered if this was going to be the extent of her life. How long has it been since I kissed someone, she wondered. How long has it been since someone held me in their arms? Don't you want that, Lois?
She left the bullpen and made her way to the building parking lot, climbed in her car and headed out. She snapped off the classic rock station on the radio that was blasting Def Leppard and began assessing her life while she was creeping along in traffic on the way to city hall. Thinking back, Lois realized that she never really had a steady relationship with a guy. She had dates along the way. Sometimes, she had more than one with the same guy but most of the dates she had were 'one-offs'. The nomadic life of a military dependent made establishing any serious romantic relationships difficult and predictably heart-breaking. Soldiers and their families were constantly moving on. But other girls did have boyfriends but they also did not have Sam Lane as their father.
Beyond that lifestyle were the responsibilities that landed in her lap after her mom died. Those had further complicated her ability to sustain a romantic relationship as a teenager. Between going to school and trying to meet her iron-fisted father's expectations, Lois never even had the chance to date guys until Lucy was in her mid-teens. Finding the time to get to know boys was tricky and by the time she did, most guys she would consider having a relationship with at school were already involved with someone else. Lois wanted to experience a loving relationship with a boy like the other girls she knew. And she knew she had plenty of love to offer someone else, but her life was so unsettled that it was just simpler not to pursue a serious relationship.
Once she left home and the demands of her father were no longer hanging over her head, new demands presented themselves. She was in college and working nearly full-time to support her independent existence. Her work hours were awkward for building a relationship with anyone her age. She discovered that journalism gave her a fast-paced career that demanded her undivided attention to excel in that profession. So, although she no longer had the demands of school and a job taking precedence over building a love life, she had grown accustomed to living without one.
Lois realized that everything that had happened to her since her mom died explained why it had become so easy for her to ignore having a steady relationship in favor of her work. And while she did not pity herself for that, she knew she had to change.
That's your problem, Lane. You're too busy at work and not getting busy with anyone.
While she had gotten 'busy' twice at different points in her lifetime, once when she was living at home with her father and sister, and once when she was working at the diner in Olathe. Both instances were unfulfilling. She had slept with partners simply to scratch an itch rather than to develop into something deeper. But the quick move to engage in sex and even quicker end to the relationship left her feeling cheap, and dirty, and she wanted nothing to do with either of the guys afterwards. The empty feeling that sex had left her with made it easier to suppress the urges that she still had.
Maybe if you had someone in your life, you'd have something other than work to occupy your time.
"Yeah," she mumbled, nodding absently.
"Good afternoon. LexCorp Industries. This is Michelle speaking. How can I help you today?"
Lois had filed her article and it was sent to Perry before noon. Not hearing any further discussion about it, she had turned her attention to the story she was working on the side.
She had seen Lex Luthor on TV and read magazine articles about him. He never gave interviews, but he was no stranger to been seen making speeches at ribbon-cuttings, ground-breaking ceremonies, and standing with needy children or charities and holding a giant LexCorp check for hundreds of thousands of dollars. She knew getting in to see Lex Luthor would be a long shot, but Perry had criticized her article because she had not even attempted to speak to Lex and, begrudgingly, she admitted to herself that Perry was right. So, this was her, attempting to speak to Lex, and she did not hold out hope that she would be seen.
A rather colorful man, Lex Luthor was well-spoken and carried himself with an air of confidence without ever seeming threatening. He was not bad-looking, Lois judged, but he was so polished all the time that it made him seem unnatural to her. Polished things could be slippery, and she imagined Luthor being just that, slippery.
Lex being completely bald did not bother Lois but it added to that slippery image. Growing up around military men, most had their heads shaved or their hair cropped so close that they may as well have shaved their heads, and Lex seem to have a perfectly shaped head for it. In fact, his ramrod straight posture and broad shoulders made Lois think of Lex as a military man, albeit a slippery military man. Being just thirty years old, he was impressive to an outsider who did not know exactly what Lex could have done to achieve so much so quickly. But she was willing and anxious to reveal whatever that might be to the rest of the world.
"Good afternoon," Lois began. "My name is Lois Lane and I work for the Daily Planet. I am calling to see if I can get an appointment to interview Mr. Luthor for a lifestyle article I am working on. Would it be possible to set an appointment within the next week or so?"
As she predicted, Michelle regretted having to tell Lois that, "Mr. Luthor does not give interviews."
"Ever?" Lois pressed.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Lane."
"So, if President Weller's secretary called you and asked if the president could make an appointment to speak with Mr. Luthor, you'd tell his secretary, 'Not today, Jose'?"
Michelle emitted a sound that seemed to be a muted laugh. "Well, not in so many words, Miss Lane. Besides, I don't think President Weller would be interviewing Mr. Luthor for publication. If you were a peer or, say, the president, Mr. Luthor would host your visit and speak with you on the understanding that conversations like that are private."
She thought for a moment. "Is Mr. Luthor planning any appearances in the next week or so; ribbon-cuttings, presentations, you know, charity appearances. It's getting close to Christmas and I'm sure he'd like to be seen helping the less fortunate in Metropolis." She chuffed and added, "Well, I guess everyone is less fortunate than Mr. Luthor but I mean those who are less fortunate than most people in Metropolis."
"We have media alerts that go out periodically to inform news organizations of events Mr. Luthor will participate in. Would you be interested in receiving those alerts directly? I'm sure someone at the Daily Planet already gets them."
"Yes, I would," Lois responded. She gave Michelle her contact information, cell phone for text alerts as well as her email address. "Some of my colleagues don't like to share, if you know what I mean."
"We usually send out alerts twelve hours before a scheduled appearance, so you'll have those notices if you'd like to cover Mr. Luthor's public events." She paused and in a less officious manner she added. "You know, with Christmas coming soon, Lois, there will be lots of opportunities for you to attend at least one or two events. This is pretty much the busiest time of year for these things."
She thanked Michelle and told her she would be looking for those alerts. After she hung up the phone, Lois muttered, "Believe me, I'll be looking, and I'll be there."
No less than an hour later, Lois's phone chimed and she received a message regarding a reception at the Metropolis Museum of Art at which Lex Luthor would be presenting a donation towards the restoration of old waterfront buildings along the old Hobbs Ferry Naval Base. The now defunct base was purchased by Metropolis from the Department of Defense and being restored to house a commercial entertainment center for Metropolis.
The reception was scheduled for that night, and it began at eight PM after the museum closed. The event was not open to the public but with her press credentials, that would not be an issue. She looked at the time display on her phone. She had about five hours to find appropriate wear, get cleaned up, and get over to the museum. She wanted to meet Lex Luthor personally before she cut him off at the knees.
Friday night, 8 PM, and I'm going to work on a story I was not even assigned, she thought.
Maybe if you had someone in your life, you'd have something other than work to occupy your time.
She hated that Cat Grant was right.