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He woke up cold and clammy, though it only took him a second to realize that he shouldn’t have woken up at all. His wounds were healed more thoroughly than his own mutant powers could have achieved in a short time – and it was a short time; he could still hear the sounds of battle off to one side.
The Fortress must have accepted him as Kal-El’s and assisted in his healing. Which meant that the Eradicator had accepted him.
“I need access to the main system,” he said to the empty air. Nothing happened, or so he thought until he managed to stand, and then he saw that portions of the floor had lit up, creating a path out of the room. Staggering only a little, he hurried along it, through half-destroyed hallways and rooms full of alien artifacts that he ignored with great regret, until he found himself in a large, circular room with a centerpiece like the tackiest chandelier ever made.
Lex recognized the configuration from the cave computer’s instructions. He inserted the dagger. Lights flashed expectantly.
“I need access to the Eradicator,” he said.
There was a pause. “Yes?” a voice said out of the air, crystalline and sharp as the surroundings.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much time,” he said. “I am part of the House of El. I require your assistance to alter the planetary climate.”
“Such a program would be terminal,” the air said mildly. Maybe it was just his imagination, but it felt as if the temperature had dropped. Lex closed his eyes. The Eradicator was an intelligent device, and probably had an opinion about Lex’s plan for its annihilation. That was just fantastic. He owed the cave wall some recompense for the failure to warn; on the other hand, he was growing to appreciate just how much trouble Clark must have had figuring out his heritage when nothing Kryptonian bothered to explain itself fully.
“I am aware of that. And – I regret the necessity. But if this planet is to survive, it is required.” Noise in the distance – the battle continued. It couldn’t last much longer. Lex swallowed.
“Is it required that the planet survive?” The tone was even and indifferent.
Lex breathed out slowly, fighting the chill that was burrowing into his bones. “It is Kal-El’s most fervent wish.”
There was a grinding noise, like a great machine slowing to a halt. “I serve Kal-El,” it said.
He concentrated on getting the modified hard drive out from under his clothes. His hands shook hardly at all.
With a bone-rattling thump, Brainiac’s body came crashing into the room, followed closely by Clark. Lex looked just long enough to confirm that they hadn’t interfered with the main array.
“Make the following alterations in the planetary environment,” he said, and put the drive on top where the Kryptonian technology could interface with it. The lights flared, making the whole room go white and overexposed, and then dimmed.
“What?” Clark turned away from Brainiac, whose body looked like a half-smashed spider on the floor, to look over at Lex.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
From behind Clark, Brainiac brayed laughter, interspersed with choking breaths. “Kal-El! I told you from the beginning that Lex Luthor would be your downfall.”
“What do you mean? Lex, what are you --?”
Lex looked him in the eye. “I’m using up your Fortress.”
Clark didn’t seem to know what to make of that.
Brainiac had managed to struggle into a near-sitting position, nodding its head in a crazed kind of triumph. “Zod is dead. I am a shadow of what I was. Destroy it, and let this be the tombstone of Krypton. Weep for your world, destroyed again by human folly, son of Jor-El.”
Every light blinked off for a second, leaving them in darkness. After a moment, it returned, but dimmer now, almost blue.
A hologram of the Earth rose out of the ice floor.
“Die knowing your failure!” Brainiac screeched, raising itself for another dive at Clark. The two of them crashed through a far wall. Aside from hoping they wouldn’t destroy anything vital, Lex couldn’t bring himself to pay much attention.
The instructions in his program told the Kryptoforming program instead to re-terraform, rebuild the ice caps and reinstate the ocean currents that had kept the West agriculturally fertile. If it worked, the storms would die down, the world would cool.
Already, the hologram was showing changes, clouds forming over the oceans in great spirals. Lightning storms were raging within them, he knew, though at this scale all that he could see was a faint luminescence around some of the edges. “And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters,” he murmured to himself. Resetting the climate wasn’t going to be gentle. At least people knew what to do with big storms these days.
Most of the planet, land and water both, was now under cloud cover. Lex could hear the Fortress creak around him, as if even structural integrity had to be sacrificed to make this happen.
The crystals slowly faded and went out, a thousand lights guttering around him like the death of a star cluster, as the program drew on their incredible power.
He had no idea how long he stood, watching the changes. It had to have been hours; it could have been days. He couldn’t feel his hands, or his feet.
At last, the clouds over the equator began to shred and dissipate. It would take longer for the ice caps to show themselves, but he believed they were there. “And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so.”
He had terraformed Earth. The hologram dimmed to nothingness, leaving him in the cold, empty room. It felt different now, dead, silent in a way the caves never had been.
Lex closed his eyes and wondered whether this was why he’d survived for so long. He’d always known his fate was to change the world. If he was the new Alexander, the lesson of history was that he wouldn’t last much beyond this conquest.
Probably best to get moving, then, and do as much as possible while he still could. Clark wasn’t coming for him.
Every great man had an unhealing wound. It was part of the story.
Staggering a little, Lex turned towards what he thought was the exit. The groans from the Fortress were getting louder. Even with the newly restored colder temperatures at this latitude, Lex guessed that he didn’t have much time before the place collapsed on him.
It was a testament to LuthorCorp’s engineers that his satellite phone still worked.
****
His people were efficient; repairs were already underway when he returned to Metropolis, and his staff had set up a temporary office in a secondary LuthorCorp building.
Temperance was conscious, though still in the hospital, being treated for shock and some kind of electrical burn. She said she didn’t remember. Lex didn’t plan on pressing her for details.
World-shaking weather being nothing more unusual than a terrorist attack, the Justice League’s mission into space was getting a lot of media play. Lex learned what had made Clark leave him to Brainiac’s mercies by watching CNN, which had footage of Green Lantern and Wonder Woman extracting a small, dirt-covered figure from a chunk of non-green meteor rock.
“CNN has learned,” the anchor said breathlessly, “that the survivor is another Kryptonian, like Superman. Her name, the Justice League says, is Kara Zor-El.”
Over the next few days, as people started to realize that these hadn’t been ordinary storms – as the satellite footage of the new ice spread, especially the time-lapse shots of it reforming – the stories started to compete with each other. As Lex prepared his public announcement, he collected further information on Kara Zor-El, mainly by bribing Cabinet officials and UN representatives.
Unfortunately, there was no way to tell how much was truth, how much lies, and how much wishful thinking. She was tall and dark, just like Superman. She was little and blonde. She was part of Superman’s family. She was some sort of royalty. She was some sort of human-Kryptonian merger. She was a psychic entity that had possessed an ordinary smalltown girl.
She was from a place called Argo City -- Kryptonians apparently adhering to the Simple Simon school of place names -- thrust into the universe by Krypton's explosion. She’d been cloned from leftover DNA in the debris. She’d been pulled through time by a hole in the space-time continuum (Lex suspected a guy named Eddy). She was a cyborg. She'd been in some sort of suspended animation. She’d been in a parallel dimension (that one, Lex found hard to believe, since it didn’t do much to explain how she showed up on the BFR).
Whatever the explanation, it seemed that Clark's biological parents hadn't been the only ones with a backup plan. Though really, who plans for the world exploding? He resolved to put that contingency on his list.
In any event, the girl's apparent age was about fifteen -- the same as Clark's when they'd met, Lex couldn't help thinking. She didn't speak English and was being kept away from the press by the simple expedient of storing her on Themiscyra, where (the League promised) her emergent powers could be trained and harnessed for humanity's good, as Superman's had been.
As all celebrity worship must, especially when the celebrity had never been photographed from within 500 yards, the frenzy over Supergirl eventually faded some. It had been useful, because it gave Lex time to make private presentations to various officials, who otherwise probably would have borne grudges if he’d let them find out about the Eradicator on national television. Lakshmi got him airtime on the major networks – she had to threaten to pull LuthorCorp advertising for the next year, but she got it. They worked on his speech for days, and then it was time.
“Good evening,” he said to the fly’s-eye of camera lenses in front of him. The actual reporters in the room shifted uneasily, clearly wondering what a Senate candidate had to say to America as a whole, already writing the “pathetic attempt at an early presidential bid” story in their heads. “Thank you for joining me. My name is Lex Luthor, and I’m here not to campaign, but to explain some major changes we’ve seen in the world over the past few weeks.”
Now they were murmuring, which gave Lex energy and passion. Human contact, that’s what he needed, as always.
“Everybody complains about the weather, but nobody ever does anything about it,” he continued, feeling their attention, feeling it even through the cameras. He gave the basic details, except for the part where Clark hadn’t known his plans. He emphasized that the cost had been the destruction of another planet’s heritage. What humans did *was* enough to destroy a world. Leaning forward for emphasis: “We can’t afford to make the same mistake again. There aren’t any other alien civilizations left here for us to trade for ourselves.”
The speech had the necessary references to God, though Lex’s personal theology leaned more towards the “blind and senescent watchmaker” side than was presently acceptable in polite Kansas company. God helped those who helped themselves – that was something he could say in good faith, so to speak.
The questions afterward were dazed and half-assed. No one from the *Planet* had shown up.
****
He left town for a few days, ostensibly to let people focus on the changes taking place instead of the person who made them. He took a fifteen-hour flight to the island closest to Themiscyra. As much as Lex hated islands, it was still fascinating to see what this one looked like, all chewed and swirled at the edges, the polished bones of countless creatures scattered across the sand. The rising sea that had been eating away at the shoreline was in retreat, the drowned land resurrected as a result of Lex’s planetary CPR.
There was a small, fast boat waiting for him, its controls simple enough that he could run it on his own. He ignored the frowns of the shipmaster. The idea of being alone was pleasing, even if it meant he had to be surrounded by water. He didn’t remember that part of his long-ago airplane crash anyway, and found that once he was out of sight of a beach it was much easier to relax. He checked his GPS, turned his cellphone on briefly to see if any mega-emergencies had developed, and poured himself a drink.
Five hours, more or less, and he’d be in range of Themiscyra’s defenses. They would notify the Amazons that a male was approaching – they were peaceful warriors, after all, and wouldn’t harm him without warning him off in person first.
Why was he doing this?
He hated that question. Mostly the answer was obvious – to save the world, or to get in a better position to rule it. And of course a new Kryptonian was important to his ability to do both.
He just had to know. If he saw her and there was nothing, no fire inside her calling him to be consumed like oxygen, then he’d know. It was curiosity, and he was fortunate to have more lives than a cat.
One drink turned into two. It wouldn’t impair him, and it made the world a little easier to bear. Around him, the water rose in short dark waves edged with white lace, slapping against itself like hands clapping. The spray that reached him on the deck was cold, despite the sun overhead. He wondered how many species of fish used to swim through these waters, and whether any would return now.
He fell into a light doze until the proximity alarm woke him, indicating a moving object within a mile. Under thirty seconds later, an Amazon riding something like a translucent jet scooter dropped from the sky to hover next to the boat. Whatever the power source was, it didn’t kick up any water from below.
She was in a white bodysuit accented with golden greaves, helmet and belt. Her hair was dark and pulled back in a ponytail, which seemed like the most practical thing about her appearance. “Males are not welcome here,” she said in something like ancient Greek.
“I’m not within your territorial waters, according to the law of nations,” he replied, trusting she’d understand his prep-school accent. “Themiscyra honors the rules of the World of Man in that respect, at least.”
“What are you doing here, if not invading?” she asked bluntly, in English this time. Well-educated, these Amazons. “There is nothing else for you here.”
“I want to meet Kara Zor-El, if she’s willing to talk to me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why would she talk to you, of all men?”
So there were still places he was unrecognized. Someday she wouldn’t need telling. “My name is Lex Luthor. I’m the man who used the Eradicator to change the climate.”
After a moment, she said, “Approach no closer. I will convey your message.”
****
He’d given himself ten hours to wait for a response; it only took three.
This time, the proximity alarm went off simultaneously with the arrival of three women: the original Amazon sentry, Wonder Woman, and a young blonde dressed in Amazonian clothing – a sort of Greek myths by way of Dolce & Gabbana look -- who had to be Kara Zor-El. Wonder Woman and the other Amazon hung back, hovering beside the boat just out of ordinary human earshot, though what that was worth with superheroes Lex didn’t know.
The girl floated through the air towards him, controlled but somehow tentative, like a puppy on wobbly legs. She was just getting used to the powers conveyed by a yellow sun. He reminded himself that she was more dangerous for being unfamiliar with her abilities.
“Hello,” he said as she drifted to within an inch of the deck, then dropped the rest of the way. Her sandals slapped against the planks, but she didn’t stagger and she didn’t take her eyes off of him. “I’m Lex Luthor.”
“I know,” she said. Up close, he could see that her eyes were deep blue, the way the papers always said Superman’s were. She was going to be a knockout in a few years. “Why did you ask to see me?” As he’d suspected from Superman’s worldwide exploits, she’d picked up English with admirable dispatch. The fact that he was hearing an actual Kryptonian accent sent a thrill through him. It was a little like Castilian Spanish. He wanted to hear more.
But she’d asked a very good question. “I’ve been a victim of Brainiac’s schemes myself,” he said. “He brought you here for his own purposes, but I hope you can make something good out of it. I wanted to offer any help I could give you.”
She stared at him, cocking her head up with the aggression of youth. “Kal-El says you are not to be trusted.”
“We’ve had our disagreements,” he admitted, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “But all I want is to protect the Earth. This can be a good place for you, Kara.” He wanted to say more, about abrupt changes in one’s life and the silver linings thereof, but he didn’t get the sense that she was warming to him. “I wanted to meet you. Whatever Superman says – I hope you can support each other.”
She glanced away, back towards the suspicious Amazons waiting for her. “We are Kryptonian. I will stand with him.” Her uncertain tone suggested some bravado, though it was a loyal enough sentiment. Once again he was asking a teenager, already burdened with tremendous power and isolation, for too much. And he didn’t have the excuse of being practically a child himself.
“Just remember,” he said, hoping it made a difference, “I’m not your enemy. Even if I can’t be your friend.”
Kara Zor-El frowned and put her hands on her hips, already a superhero in training. “I do not want enemies.”
Lex smiled, for what felt like the first time in years. “Neither do I. But sometimes it happens. Thank you for meeting with me.”
Even a teenager could recognize the dismissal, and she nodded a little, gathering her dignity around her like an invisible forcefield. “The Princess told me I should.”
He didn’t look over at Wonder Woman, though he appreciated her tactical sense. “Good luck, Kara.”
She hesitated, clearly trying to come up with an English phrase that wouldn’t overcommit her. It was charming (though of course any young woman that good-looking was charming in most matters). “Thank you,” she settled on eventually, and after an awkward moment more, she took off into the sky, overshooting her companions until they caught up with her.
He’d overreached, assuming – hoping – that they’d have something in common. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he told himself as he turned the boat around.
****
Lakshmi strode into the room and didn't bother waiting for him to ask her. "Half of the country thinks you're the messiah, and the other half thinks you ought to be strung up for playing God. The good news is that at least ten nations are demanding your extradition for crimes against humanity, which is going to improve your standing with the half of the country that's freaked out, because they're not so keen on multilateralism either."
Lex smiled at her – the mild one, not the grin that made people uncomfortable. “Thank you, Lakshmi. In a few weeks, you should take a vacation.”
She laughed, then looked uncertain. “There’s still a lot of work. You’ve got five subpoenas for Congressional hearings – and the lawsuit count is up to eleven now, in case you were wondering. Not to mention the election.”
He shrugged. “I have confidence in the process.” He could afford to – he’d spent enough money on it. “You’ve done excellent work on this. I look forward to seeing what you’ll do on a national level.”
“Thanks,” she said, then looked away. “Listen – are you --? No, I’m sorry.”
He got up from his desk and moved towards her. “What is it? Lakshmi, you’re a trusted advisor. If you have a concern or a question, you have to ask.”
“You just – are you having second thoughts? I know the storms are still bad, but everyone agrees the longterm prospects are – well, you know. You seem –” she hesitated until Lex’s silent waiting broke her resistance – “sad.”
Lex shook his head and gave her his best reassuring look. “I haven’t given up any of my great plans,” he said. “There are still plenty of worlds to conquer.” He smiled again, this time to let her know that he was only joking about the conquering part. “But an accomplishment like ours prompts some reflection. I know not everyone sees what was done as a sacrifice, but I do.”
She nodded, her eyes shining with belief. Belief in him – something he saw more often these past few days, now that he’d proved himself to the world beyond doubt. Superman was still refusing to discuss his role in what the news was calling “the Weatherworking,” but that only helped add to Lex’s credit as the brains behind the scheme. He turned away from Lakshmi, towards the floor-to-ceiling windows. He wasn’t as high up as he’d been in LuthorCorp Tower, and he couldn’t see the Daily Planet, but there was a view of the park, and he could see the repairs on the Tower off to the left.
The skies were clear blue, interrupted only by a few clouds off to the east.
The door made a soft sound as it closed behind Lakshmi.
Lex looked down at his city, his Earth. There was rain in the skies, but not the killing rain of recent years. This was the rain that raises crops and lulls babies to sleep. Hope from loss, the future from the ashes of the past.
Lex had only the future now. He pledged himself to it.
End Part One
The Fortress must have accepted him as Kal-El’s and assisted in his healing. Which meant that the Eradicator had accepted him.
“I need access to the main system,” he said to the empty air. Nothing happened, or so he thought until he managed to stand, and then he saw that portions of the floor had lit up, creating a path out of the room. Staggering only a little, he hurried along it, through half-destroyed hallways and rooms full of alien artifacts that he ignored with great regret, until he found himself in a large, circular room with a centerpiece like the tackiest chandelier ever made.
Lex recognized the configuration from the cave computer’s instructions. He inserted the dagger. Lights flashed expectantly.
“I need access to the Eradicator,” he said.
There was a pause. “Yes?” a voice said out of the air, crystalline and sharp as the surroundings.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much time,” he said. “I am part of the House of El. I require your assistance to alter the planetary climate.”
“Such a program would be terminal,” the air said mildly. Maybe it was just his imagination, but it felt as if the temperature had dropped. Lex closed his eyes. The Eradicator was an intelligent device, and probably had an opinion about Lex’s plan for its annihilation. That was just fantastic. He owed the cave wall some recompense for the failure to warn; on the other hand, he was growing to appreciate just how much trouble Clark must have had figuring out his heritage when nothing Kryptonian bothered to explain itself fully.
“I am aware of that. And – I regret the necessity. But if this planet is to survive, it is required.” Noise in the distance – the battle continued. It couldn’t last much longer. Lex swallowed.
“Is it required that the planet survive?” The tone was even and indifferent.
Lex breathed out slowly, fighting the chill that was burrowing into his bones. “It is Kal-El’s most fervent wish.”
There was a grinding noise, like a great machine slowing to a halt. “I serve Kal-El,” it said.
He concentrated on getting the modified hard drive out from under his clothes. His hands shook hardly at all.
With a bone-rattling thump, Brainiac’s body came crashing into the room, followed closely by Clark. Lex looked just long enough to confirm that they hadn’t interfered with the main array.
“Make the following alterations in the planetary environment,” he said, and put the drive on top where the Kryptonian technology could interface with it. The lights flared, making the whole room go white and overexposed, and then dimmed.
“What?” Clark turned away from Brainiac, whose body looked like a half-smashed spider on the floor, to look over at Lex.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
From behind Clark, Brainiac brayed laughter, interspersed with choking breaths. “Kal-El! I told you from the beginning that Lex Luthor would be your downfall.”
“What do you mean? Lex, what are you --?”
Lex looked him in the eye. “I’m using up your Fortress.”
Clark didn’t seem to know what to make of that.
Brainiac had managed to struggle into a near-sitting position, nodding its head in a crazed kind of triumph. “Zod is dead. I am a shadow of what I was. Destroy it, and let this be the tombstone of Krypton. Weep for your world, destroyed again by human folly, son of Jor-El.”
Every light blinked off for a second, leaving them in darkness. After a moment, it returned, but dimmer now, almost blue.
A hologram of the Earth rose out of the ice floor.
“Die knowing your failure!” Brainiac screeched, raising itself for another dive at Clark. The two of them crashed through a far wall. Aside from hoping they wouldn’t destroy anything vital, Lex couldn’t bring himself to pay much attention.
The instructions in his program told the Kryptoforming program instead to re-terraform, rebuild the ice caps and reinstate the ocean currents that had kept the West agriculturally fertile. If it worked, the storms would die down, the world would cool.
Already, the hologram was showing changes, clouds forming over the oceans in great spirals. Lightning storms were raging within them, he knew, though at this scale all that he could see was a faint luminescence around some of the edges. “And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters,” he murmured to himself. Resetting the climate wasn’t going to be gentle. At least people knew what to do with big storms these days.
Most of the planet, land and water both, was now under cloud cover. Lex could hear the Fortress creak around him, as if even structural integrity had to be sacrificed to make this happen.
The crystals slowly faded and went out, a thousand lights guttering around him like the death of a star cluster, as the program drew on their incredible power.
He had no idea how long he stood, watching the changes. It had to have been hours; it could have been days. He couldn’t feel his hands, or his feet.
At last, the clouds over the equator began to shred and dissipate. It would take longer for the ice caps to show themselves, but he believed they were there. “And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so.”
He had terraformed Earth. The hologram dimmed to nothingness, leaving him in the cold, empty room. It felt different now, dead, silent in a way the caves never had been.
Lex closed his eyes and wondered whether this was why he’d survived for so long. He’d always known his fate was to change the world. If he was the new Alexander, the lesson of history was that he wouldn’t last much beyond this conquest.
Probably best to get moving, then, and do as much as possible while he still could. Clark wasn’t coming for him.
Every great man had an unhealing wound. It was part of the story.
Staggering a little, Lex turned towards what he thought was the exit. The groans from the Fortress were getting louder. Even with the newly restored colder temperatures at this latitude, Lex guessed that he didn’t have much time before the place collapsed on him.
It was a testament to LuthorCorp’s engineers that his satellite phone still worked.
****
His people were efficient; repairs were already underway when he returned to Metropolis, and his staff had set up a temporary office in a secondary LuthorCorp building.
Temperance was conscious, though still in the hospital, being treated for shock and some kind of electrical burn. She said she didn’t remember. Lex didn’t plan on pressing her for details.
World-shaking weather being nothing more unusual than a terrorist attack, the Justice League’s mission into space was getting a lot of media play. Lex learned what had made Clark leave him to Brainiac’s mercies by watching CNN, which had footage of Green Lantern and Wonder Woman extracting a small, dirt-covered figure from a chunk of non-green meteor rock.
“CNN has learned,” the anchor said breathlessly, “that the survivor is another Kryptonian, like Superman. Her name, the Justice League says, is Kara Zor-El.”
Over the next few days, as people started to realize that these hadn’t been ordinary storms – as the satellite footage of the new ice spread, especially the time-lapse shots of it reforming – the stories started to compete with each other. As Lex prepared his public announcement, he collected further information on Kara Zor-El, mainly by bribing Cabinet officials and UN representatives.
Unfortunately, there was no way to tell how much was truth, how much lies, and how much wishful thinking. She was tall and dark, just like Superman. She was little and blonde. She was part of Superman’s family. She was some sort of royalty. She was some sort of human-Kryptonian merger. She was a psychic entity that had possessed an ordinary smalltown girl.
She was from a place called Argo City -- Kryptonians apparently adhering to the Simple Simon school of place names -- thrust into the universe by Krypton's explosion. She’d been cloned from leftover DNA in the debris. She’d been pulled through time by a hole in the space-time continuum (Lex suspected a guy named Eddy). She was a cyborg. She'd been in some sort of suspended animation. She’d been in a parallel dimension (that one, Lex found hard to believe, since it didn’t do much to explain how she showed up on the BFR).
Whatever the explanation, it seemed that Clark's biological parents hadn't been the only ones with a backup plan. Though really, who plans for the world exploding? He resolved to put that contingency on his list.
In any event, the girl's apparent age was about fifteen -- the same as Clark's when they'd met, Lex couldn't help thinking. She didn't speak English and was being kept away from the press by the simple expedient of storing her on Themiscyra, where (the League promised) her emergent powers could be trained and harnessed for humanity's good, as Superman's had been.
As all celebrity worship must, especially when the celebrity had never been photographed from within 500 yards, the frenzy over Supergirl eventually faded some. It had been useful, because it gave Lex time to make private presentations to various officials, who otherwise probably would have borne grudges if he’d let them find out about the Eradicator on national television. Lakshmi got him airtime on the major networks – she had to threaten to pull LuthorCorp advertising for the next year, but she got it. They worked on his speech for days, and then it was time.
“Good evening,” he said to the fly’s-eye of camera lenses in front of him. The actual reporters in the room shifted uneasily, clearly wondering what a Senate candidate had to say to America as a whole, already writing the “pathetic attempt at an early presidential bid” story in their heads. “Thank you for joining me. My name is Lex Luthor, and I’m here not to campaign, but to explain some major changes we’ve seen in the world over the past few weeks.”
Now they were murmuring, which gave Lex energy and passion. Human contact, that’s what he needed, as always.
“Everybody complains about the weather, but nobody ever does anything about it,” he continued, feeling their attention, feeling it even through the cameras. He gave the basic details, except for the part where Clark hadn’t known his plans. He emphasized that the cost had been the destruction of another planet’s heritage. What humans did *was* enough to destroy a world. Leaning forward for emphasis: “We can’t afford to make the same mistake again. There aren’t any other alien civilizations left here for us to trade for ourselves.”
The speech had the necessary references to God, though Lex’s personal theology leaned more towards the “blind and senescent watchmaker” side than was presently acceptable in polite Kansas company. God helped those who helped themselves – that was something he could say in good faith, so to speak.
The questions afterward were dazed and half-assed. No one from the *Planet* had shown up.
****
He left town for a few days, ostensibly to let people focus on the changes taking place instead of the person who made them. He took a fifteen-hour flight to the island closest to Themiscyra. As much as Lex hated islands, it was still fascinating to see what this one looked like, all chewed and swirled at the edges, the polished bones of countless creatures scattered across the sand. The rising sea that had been eating away at the shoreline was in retreat, the drowned land resurrected as a result of Lex’s planetary CPR.
There was a small, fast boat waiting for him, its controls simple enough that he could run it on his own. He ignored the frowns of the shipmaster. The idea of being alone was pleasing, even if it meant he had to be surrounded by water. He didn’t remember that part of his long-ago airplane crash anyway, and found that once he was out of sight of a beach it was much easier to relax. He checked his GPS, turned his cellphone on briefly to see if any mega-emergencies had developed, and poured himself a drink.
Five hours, more or less, and he’d be in range of Themiscyra’s defenses. They would notify the Amazons that a male was approaching – they were peaceful warriors, after all, and wouldn’t harm him without warning him off in person first.
Why was he doing this?
He hated that question. Mostly the answer was obvious – to save the world, or to get in a better position to rule it. And of course a new Kryptonian was important to his ability to do both.
He just had to know. If he saw her and there was nothing, no fire inside her calling him to be consumed like oxygen, then he’d know. It was curiosity, and he was fortunate to have more lives than a cat.
One drink turned into two. It wouldn’t impair him, and it made the world a little easier to bear. Around him, the water rose in short dark waves edged with white lace, slapping against itself like hands clapping. The spray that reached him on the deck was cold, despite the sun overhead. He wondered how many species of fish used to swim through these waters, and whether any would return now.
He fell into a light doze until the proximity alarm woke him, indicating a moving object within a mile. Under thirty seconds later, an Amazon riding something like a translucent jet scooter dropped from the sky to hover next to the boat. Whatever the power source was, it didn’t kick up any water from below.
She was in a white bodysuit accented with golden greaves, helmet and belt. Her hair was dark and pulled back in a ponytail, which seemed like the most practical thing about her appearance. “Males are not welcome here,” she said in something like ancient Greek.
“I’m not within your territorial waters, according to the law of nations,” he replied, trusting she’d understand his prep-school accent. “Themiscyra honors the rules of the World of Man in that respect, at least.”
“What are you doing here, if not invading?” she asked bluntly, in English this time. Well-educated, these Amazons. “There is nothing else for you here.”
“I want to meet Kara Zor-El, if she’s willing to talk to me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why would she talk to you, of all men?”
So there were still places he was unrecognized. Someday she wouldn’t need telling. “My name is Lex Luthor. I’m the man who used the Eradicator to change the climate.”
After a moment, she said, “Approach no closer. I will convey your message.”
****
He’d given himself ten hours to wait for a response; it only took three.
This time, the proximity alarm went off simultaneously with the arrival of three women: the original Amazon sentry, Wonder Woman, and a young blonde dressed in Amazonian clothing – a sort of Greek myths by way of Dolce & Gabbana look -- who had to be Kara Zor-El. Wonder Woman and the other Amazon hung back, hovering beside the boat just out of ordinary human earshot, though what that was worth with superheroes Lex didn’t know.
The girl floated through the air towards him, controlled but somehow tentative, like a puppy on wobbly legs. She was just getting used to the powers conveyed by a yellow sun. He reminded himself that she was more dangerous for being unfamiliar with her abilities.
“Hello,” he said as she drifted to within an inch of the deck, then dropped the rest of the way. Her sandals slapped against the planks, but she didn’t stagger and she didn’t take her eyes off of him. “I’m Lex Luthor.”
“I know,” she said. Up close, he could see that her eyes were deep blue, the way the papers always said Superman’s were. She was going to be a knockout in a few years. “Why did you ask to see me?” As he’d suspected from Superman’s worldwide exploits, she’d picked up English with admirable dispatch. The fact that he was hearing an actual Kryptonian accent sent a thrill through him. It was a little like Castilian Spanish. He wanted to hear more.
But she’d asked a very good question. “I’ve been a victim of Brainiac’s schemes myself,” he said. “He brought you here for his own purposes, but I hope you can make something good out of it. I wanted to offer any help I could give you.”
She stared at him, cocking her head up with the aggression of youth. “Kal-El says you are not to be trusted.”
“We’ve had our disagreements,” he admitted, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “But all I want is to protect the Earth. This can be a good place for you, Kara.” He wanted to say more, about abrupt changes in one’s life and the silver linings thereof, but he didn’t get the sense that she was warming to him. “I wanted to meet you. Whatever Superman says – I hope you can support each other.”
She glanced away, back towards the suspicious Amazons waiting for her. “We are Kryptonian. I will stand with him.” Her uncertain tone suggested some bravado, though it was a loyal enough sentiment. Once again he was asking a teenager, already burdened with tremendous power and isolation, for too much. And he didn’t have the excuse of being practically a child himself.
“Just remember,” he said, hoping it made a difference, “I’m not your enemy. Even if I can’t be your friend.”
Kara Zor-El frowned and put her hands on her hips, already a superhero in training. “I do not want enemies.”
Lex smiled, for what felt like the first time in years. “Neither do I. But sometimes it happens. Thank you for meeting with me.”
Even a teenager could recognize the dismissal, and she nodded a little, gathering her dignity around her like an invisible forcefield. “The Princess told me I should.”
He didn’t look over at Wonder Woman, though he appreciated her tactical sense. “Good luck, Kara.”
She hesitated, clearly trying to come up with an English phrase that wouldn’t overcommit her. It was charming (though of course any young woman that good-looking was charming in most matters). “Thank you,” she settled on eventually, and after an awkward moment more, she took off into the sky, overshooting her companions until they caught up with her.
He’d overreached, assuming – hoping – that they’d have something in common. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he told himself as he turned the boat around.
****
Lakshmi strode into the room and didn't bother waiting for him to ask her. "Half of the country thinks you're the messiah, and the other half thinks you ought to be strung up for playing God. The good news is that at least ten nations are demanding your extradition for crimes against humanity, which is going to improve your standing with the half of the country that's freaked out, because they're not so keen on multilateralism either."
Lex smiled at her – the mild one, not the grin that made people uncomfortable. “Thank you, Lakshmi. In a few weeks, you should take a vacation.”
She laughed, then looked uncertain. “There’s still a lot of work. You’ve got five subpoenas for Congressional hearings – and the lawsuit count is up to eleven now, in case you were wondering. Not to mention the election.”
He shrugged. “I have confidence in the process.” He could afford to – he’d spent enough money on it. “You’ve done excellent work on this. I look forward to seeing what you’ll do on a national level.”
“Thanks,” she said, then looked away. “Listen – are you --? No, I’m sorry.”
He got up from his desk and moved towards her. “What is it? Lakshmi, you’re a trusted advisor. If you have a concern or a question, you have to ask.”
“You just – are you having second thoughts? I know the storms are still bad, but everyone agrees the longterm prospects are – well, you know. You seem –” she hesitated until Lex’s silent waiting broke her resistance – “sad.”
Lex shook his head and gave her his best reassuring look. “I haven’t given up any of my great plans,” he said. “There are still plenty of worlds to conquer.” He smiled again, this time to let her know that he was only joking about the conquering part. “But an accomplishment like ours prompts some reflection. I know not everyone sees what was done as a sacrifice, but I do.”
She nodded, her eyes shining with belief. Belief in him – something he saw more often these past few days, now that he’d proved himself to the world beyond doubt. Superman was still refusing to discuss his role in what the news was calling “the Weatherworking,” but that only helped add to Lex’s credit as the brains behind the scheme. He turned away from Lakshmi, towards the floor-to-ceiling windows. He wasn’t as high up as he’d been in LuthorCorp Tower, and he couldn’t see the Daily Planet, but there was a view of the park, and he could see the repairs on the Tower off to the left.
The skies were clear blue, interrupted only by a few clouds off to the east.
The door made a soft sound as it closed behind Lakshmi.
Lex looked down at his city, his Earth. There was rain in the skies, but not the killing rain of recent years. This was the rain that raises crops and lulls babies to sleep. Hope from loss, the future from the ashes of the past.
Lex had only the future now. He pledged himself to it.
End Part One
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And um, I'm glad he doesn't react to Kara the way he reacts to Clark. *is jealous possessive of CLex*
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Where's your icon from? When I google I get a bunch of web pages about how Lincoln was a mutant ...
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The icon is from the Colbert Report a few weeks ago, when the Word was "fourth branch," about Cheney.
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And I loved Lex's observation about Amazonian fashion being "Greek myths by way of Dolce and Gabbana."
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I love this story, the twists it's taking. And I especially love your Lex and his schemes that straddle all definitions.
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I'm assuming Mercy (and Hope) are okay.
That said, I'm speechless with awe whenever Lex's grand plans succeed. And now I'll be thinking about this every time it rains (which, after reading this, I just noticed is about to happen). :D Oh Lex... I'd like to hope that Clark would have agreed to it anyway.
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Lex closed his eyes and wondered whether this was why he’d survived for so long. He’d always known his fate was to change the world. If he was the new Alexander, the lesson of history was that he wouldn’t last much beyond this conquest.
Probably best to get moving, then, and do as much as possible while he still could. Clark wasn’t coming for him.
Every great man had an unhealing wound. It was part of the story.
*cries*
“But an accomplishment like ours prompts some reflection. I know not everyone sees what was done as a sacrifice, but I do.”
Tell me Lex didn't sacrifice the only chance he'll ever have with Clark? (Especially now that Kal-El has the option of a Kryptonian female, when she's a few years older.) Pretty please...? *desperately hopes that the CLex will survive*
Wonderful, heart-breaking chapter!
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You'll have answers in a few more days -- I hope they're worth the wait.
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Now I'm dying to know where the second half of this is going, since the major threads appear resolved, and Clark has been so conspicuously absent. Your Clark is so hard to get a handle on (fittingly so, since it's Lex's POV and Clark is the persistent unknown variable in any Luthorian equation), no idea how he's actually taking this...
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