Metropolis - Blood (part 3A)
Chapter THREE: Tongues
“Well, well, well. It looks like we’re finally making some progress,” John Henry Irons remarked, mostly to himself, as he poured over the results of the latest round of performance trials. Practically the entire city had the day off today, more due to the transportation snarl the evacuation had caused with the roads than any real damage done by Brainiac itself, but not Dr. Irons. Not when you were LexCorp’s number one scientific expert and flew to work each day by helicopter.
“Something interesting, Doctor?” Lex Luthor asked with his usual tone of curiosity as he walked down onto the main floor of Dr. Irons’ lab. Lex didn’t have to worry about traffic either. Since his work was his life, he made his home in the virtual mansion that existed atop the LexCorpBuilding.
“The endo-frame reproduction was able to maintain balance on an uneven incline for 2.36 seconds longer than the last trial,” Dr. Irons remarked, not looking up from the screen where various graphs and charts were displayed. Just beyond him; in the center of the room an object that looked rather like a pair of mechanical pants lay in a jumble on the floor. “I’m definitely on the right track in configuring the gyroscopic systems. Another week… ten days on the outside and I think it’ll be ready to try the stairs unassisted. Of course the real challenge is going to be slaving the gyroscopics and programming to the proper neural patterns once we’ve got the full range of movement down…”
“As fascinating as this might be Doctor,” Lex began calmly, “I believe the priority set for reverse engineering was the unit’s hand weapons.”
“Yes,” Dr. Irons agreed hesitantly. “It is. This is just a… side-project. One I believe will be far more profitable in the long run. The possibilities for advanced prosthetics presented by the Metallo unit are tremendous. How much would you pay for a fully functional prosthetic if you lost… I don’t know… your hand for example? A prosthetic that moved in accordance with your every thought just like the old one and could even transmit the sense of touch back?”
“And the weapons, Doctor?”
“Yes. Well,” Dr. Irons coughed slightly. “As you know Metallo’s structure is virtually impervious to conventional cutting tools. While it’s not quite in the same league as the Brainiac entity, it’s still some pretty formidable stuff. We can barely scratch, much less cut through the material, but I was finally able to open the unit up at the joints and seams by using a sonic screwdriver to…”
“… a sonic screwdriver?” Luthor interrupted with a look of incredulity.
“It uses focused sound waves to loosen or tighten screws and other fasteners even if they’re inside another object. I had to invent it specifically for the purpose of studying Metallo over there.” He indicated the inert metallic limbs and torso lying in pieces on one of the lab tables.
The head of course was elsewhere. Dr. Irons had detected signs of brain activity inside the metallic skull and so, rather than risk the monstrosity that used to be John Corbin coming back to life due to Dr. Iron’s probing, Mr. Luthor had ordered the head removed, locked in a padded steel box and placed in the most secure vault he had access to. Lex hadn’t known exactly how Dr. Irons had gotten that head off before now.
“It was also the inspiration for the Sonic Discombobulator,” Dr. Irons continued.
“I presume this side-trip has something to do with the apparent lack of progress in reverse engineering the hand weapons?” Lex asked.
“Yes. Well,” Dr. Irons began again. “The fact of the matter is that based on past experience most forms of directed energy devices are extremely fragile. The last thing you’d want to do is use a sonic screwdriver on them. It might shatter any number of components and thereby render the ability to discern exactly how the weapon works impossible.”
“I note that you had no such hesitancy to go rooting around in the unit’s chest cavity or locomotive systems,” Lex pointed out with a grin. Then his face grew serious. “You have two of the weapons, Doctor. I think we can risk one of them in an exploratory exercise. I’d like your findings by the end of the day.”
With that Lex Luthor turned and walked away leaving a rather shocked looking Dr. Irons in his wake.
Often the observation room that overlooked Dr. Irons’ lab was filled with students; either on a field trip from grade school or graduate students that had come to listen and observe one of Dr. Irons’ many lectures on any number of scientific discoveries. Today, however, it held a very different guest.
“He’s stalling,” Congressman Lana Lang remarked as Lex joined her in observation room. She was standing near the back with the lights off; in the shadows where she seemed strangely at home. She had watched the whole exchange between Dr. Irons and himself; silently observing in the manner that had become her custom.
“You know you won’t see that report today or even tomorrow. He’ll have an excuse for not having it finished,” she added.
“I know,” Lex said as he stepped up next to her, coming so close he could smell the scented perfume in her shampoo. Lana tensed as he did so, but she did not move away.
Lex knew she didn’t like to be touched; to have her personal space invaded; but she would not give him the victory, however small, of letting him get to her. Lana understood that it was one of his power games; a way of trying to assert dominance over her; but she would have none of it. No one else knew Lex Luthor the way she did.
“But he’s also, bar none, the most brilliant scientist in the country,” Lex continued. “Probably the world. And he’s also right about the profitability of the prosthetics research he’s doing. It could help countless people who’ve been crippled lead normal lives.”
“And in normal times I’d applaud his social consciousness and devotion to your bottom line,” Lana replied.
“…But as you keep pointing out, these aren’t normal times,” Lex finished for her.
The last two days were a case in point. Mankind had known for months now that it was no longer alone in the vast blackness of space, but the past two days had been a potent reminder that the blackness had savage teeth. Though even Lex could not deny that Kal-El, the so-called ‘Superman,’ had played the part of hero in stopping the Brainiac entity, unlike others, he was not content to let that showboating alien be their sole line of defense. Lex Luthor would not allow himself or those he cared about to be subject to the whims of such a capricious being. Humanity needed to be able to stand on its own against the things that went bump in the night and Lex lived for the day when he would finally be able to look Kal-El in the eye and tell him, ‘Go away! Earth doesn’t need you anymore.’
So why was he being so reticent here?
“He never signed on for weapon research,” Lex felt compelled to add.
The fact of the matter was that Lex knew he was exploiting Dr. Irons’ loyalty by even making the request. Dr. John Henry Irons didn’t like guns. Thirteen years ago his mother, father and sister had been gunned down in a drive-by shooting. His responsibilities to his grandmother and orphaned niece were his incentive to not enter the endless cycle of violence that the gangs involved in the drive-by represented. Instead he’d put all his energies into becoming an inventor of possibilities; of a world where things like weapons were not needed.
The weapons concealed in Metallo’s arms were an anathema to him; instruments useful for death and nothing more. Yet, still Lex had asked him to study them, help make more of them. Because there was no one else who could.
“He just… doesn’t want blood on his hands,” Lex finally offered by way of an explanation.
“It washes off,” Lana remarked.
“You know what I mean.” It was just one of the bonds that he and Lana shared… the inexplicable horror and power of having taken another human life. In both their cases it had been self-defense. But regardless of the justifications; the excuses; it changed you.
“I do,” Lana replied. “It still washes off.”
Not for the first time in her presence Lex felt a shiver run down his spine and subconsciously took a step back from the young woman. Lana grinned coldly. This round of their little game went to her.
“We need this weapon, Lex,” she said. “We need an equalizer. Something that can slay the monsters that are stalking humanity. Either get Dr. Irons to figure it out… or find someone who can.”
Despite the Toyman’s best efforts, Bobbie Granger was still not happy. It had all started so well, too. The boy had been excited and tried out all manner of his inventions at first and when he’d drifted off to sleep all seemed right in the world. Then the morning had come and the boy had quickly become bored with his new toys and upset that he could not show off his new toys to his friends. He was even more upset to learn that he could not leave the wonderful house of toys and that the Toyman had to leave him alone during the day. After all he had very important matters and many other children not as blessed as young Bobbie to attend to.
Still, the child was unhappy and that made the Toyman most unhappy. Something had to be done; he wouldn’t screw this one up like he had the others; he’d get it right. He just had to find the solution to the problem at hand.
The boy had most of all wanted to show off to his friends…
Of course! It was so obvious that the Toyman almost laughed out loud. How could he not have seen it before? Children needed playmates.
Another child; he needed another child. Risky to attempt so soon, but it had to be done. He couldn’t abide not doing everything he could to make the children happy; happy as he had never been.
The Toyman went down his list of names in head… there were so many to choose from. But his meticulous mind preferred to go alphabetically so as he ticked off the names of his past failures to his current project his mind went naturally to the first of his currently available prospects alphabetically after ‘Granger, Robert’ in his mental collection. The Toyman smiled to himself… yes, that one would do nicely.
For all the fresh paint and new chairs, the Metropolis Department of Family Services offices looked and sounded and even smelled pretty much as Lois remembered them from all those years ago. Admittedly everything looked a lot shorter and smaller too, but she knew that was just because she’d been all of eight the last time she’d been in here.
The faces were also different of course, but the atmosphere of stress and overwork still hung over the too small and too crowded place as Lois led Lucy into the lobby, carefully stepping around the wet floor sign positioned directly in front of the door as she did so. It was only eight in the morning, but there were already a few clusters of adults and children waiting in chairs. Some looked like they may have been there since the night before; a not unreasonable prospect given the general chaos Brainiac’s attack had caused. One, a frazzled looking mother with a screaming infant and a toddler who refused to stay in his chair, pretty much set the mood perfectly.
Putting that out of her mind, Lois walked up to the front desk with Lucy by her side. A heavyset woman in her forties looked up from her crossword puzzle. “Can I help you?” she asked in a bored tone.
“Yes,” Lois replied. “I need to find Lucy Monroe’s case worker please,” Lois said as she gave a stern look down at Lucy who had been maintaining a stony silence ever since they’d left her apartment despite Lois’ efforts to coax potentially useful information out of her; such as her home address or even the last name of her foster parents. With no other option Lois had to bring her here.
The desk clerk tapped a few lines into her computer. “That would be William Scott,” she said after a moment. “Down that hall. Fifth office on the right,” she added pointing down one of the hallways.
“Thank you,” Lois replied as she led Lucy in that direction.
They’d just entered the hallway when Lois saw a wiry man in his thirties step out of the fifth office on the right. He looked in their direction as he did so and his eyes seemed to flicker for a moment. Following him were a forty-something couple that, based on the cringe Lucy gave at the sight of them, Lois guessed could only be Greg and Lisa. The couple too looked down the hallway at them as they approached.
“Lucy!” the woman who was probably Lisa cried out as she and Greg rushed forward towards them. Lucy took a half step back as she approached, but Lisa just bent over slightly as she reached the girl and wrapped her arms around her. “You had us so worried!” she exclaimed.
“Thank you!” Greg said to Lois as he approached. “When she wasn’t in her bed this morning we panicked.” He breathed an unconscious sigh of relief. “With all the craziness still going on in the city we didn’t know what to think. I take it you found her then, Miss…?”
“Lane. Lois Lane,” she replied. “It was more like the other way around actually.” Lois didn’t know exactly why she was surprised to see the looks of concern on Greg and Lisa’s faces… probably because of Lucy’s sentiments and her own prejudices. She should have known that the assessment of a girl who’d lost the only home she’d ever known was going to be a bit suspect.
Lisa looked up at Lois. “Lois Lane? The reporter?” She turned back to Lucy with a hand resting on each of the girl’s shoulders. “Lucy, did you go and bother Miss Lane?”
“We’re sorry, Miss Lane,” Greg said. “Lucy… well she’s probably already told you, but she’s convinced she’s got a sister out there somewhere. She was probably hoping that you could help find her somehow.”
“We’re sorry she wasted your time,” Lisa added as she started to pull Lucy back towards the case worker down the hall. “It won’t happen again.” Lucy reached out and grasped Lois’ hand though and gave her a pleading glance. “Lucy! Let go of Miss Lane! She’s not going to be able to help you find your hypothetical sister.”
Lois looked from Lucy’s desperate face to Greg and Lisa, so filled with relief, and to William Scott down the hall with his concerned expression and back to the girl clutching at her hand with three, now two fingers. It was crazy; she barely had a handle on her own life. Yet deep down she knew there was only one thing she could do.
“Actually, I am her hypothetical sister,” Lois said.
It was as if the entire hallway had been frozen in time. Greg and Lisa, and William Scott just stared at her for what felt like a solid minute while a look of relief seemed to grow on Lucy’s face.
“Maybe we should step into my office,” Mr. Scott said finally.