Bald-Faced Truths

[man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com]

The suite in which former US President and current fugitive Lex Luthor has been installed is a far sight from the Science Cell that was his home back with the Oans. Everything is more comfortable, he has room to roam, and God knows the food is actually palatable.

Yet something is amiss.

Physical fitness has become one of Luthor's fixations, and when his mind is set on something, that fixation does not waver. So he has found himself in the best condition of his life, chest powerful, arm muscles rippling, endurance building...and he has little comprehension of why. A lack of self-control is completely unacceptable.

Yet in the late reaches of the night, not long after retiring for the evening, Lex invariably gets out of bed and starts some sort of exercising. Tonight? Running. For two hours, he has run in a single-minded manner, letting nothing clutter his conscience beyond the need to run. That, too, will become unacceptable: since when does his peerless mind turn off?

Drenched in perspiration and exhausted, he returns to his quarters, strips and drops the sweat-soaked clothing on the floor on his way to the shower. A forearm passes over his temples as moonlight shimmers off the polished metal of the bathroom door, and he freezes, then runs a hand over his hairless pate. His head turns to the right, then to the left, as he studies the reflection for a long, long time.

Because the face in that reflection is not his.

Comments

[mr-henshaw.livejournal.com]

"You seem to be consumed by a peculiar drive, Luthor." Hank Henshaw, the Cyborg Superman, stands in the doorway of Lex's quarters. "I can respect that. You're clearly driven to make yourself the pinnacle of humanity. I had already expected you to think of yourself as such."

Henshaw steps into Luthor's chamber without invitation. "You are undoubtedly the most intelligent human in existence. Your creations and technologies attest to your mental prowess." He gestures at the complex around them. "And yet you spend all of your time in our gymnasiums, honing your physical self. The conclusion I reach is that your quest for perfection clearly cannot stop with your mind alone."

Sitting at the end of the Luthor's bed, Henshaw rests his chin on his fist before continuing. From this angle he could pass for the real Superman. "I lead the campaign of destruction that resulted in our laying waste to the planet Rann. There is no natural life here now except what we may create between us. We can forge a pact of minds; mine, yours, Malefic, Despero and the Psions, and we can create whatever life and lives we choose. This planet is the new cradle of civilisation, technology and life. Here, we are gods."

Seeing that Luthor has not responded at all to his speaking, Henshaw raises an eyebrow. "Have you been listening to anything that I have been saying?"

[man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com]

Luthor's head jerks away from the reflection as he hears, finally, Henshaw's voice. Standing there without a stitch on, he clearly has indeed been working out like a maniac: his body is honed, his muscles bulked, his chest and shoulders the very image of power.

Not that Luthor's every been that much out of shape, but right now he looks like a professional athlete.

"Yes," he replies at last. Curtly. "What do you want?"

[mr-henshaw.livejournal.com]

"Your mind, Luthor. We need a human mind with its infinite capacity for creativity." He leaves the part about boundless human stupidity out, as it sounds like the sort of thing Lex Luthor would resent.

"Neo-Rann is shortly to be attacked by people who think our taking it was... immoral. We need to inhabit this planet promptly, and with life that could not dwell elsewhere. With our collective minds I have no doubt we can create a life-form that is capable of evolution but is also restricted to this toxic planet so that there is no way the self-styled heroes can eject us without also ejecting and exterminating an intelligent life that requires us to continue living." Henshaw opens his arms.

"This all makes sense in my mechanical mind. It may not in yours. Allow me to simplify; we are going to strike at the people at Earth by playing on their ultimate weakness. Their need to preserve life will prevent them from ever taking Rann, because to do so would make them no better than us." The Cyborg Superman smiles. "I trust this is clear."

[man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com]

"Crystal," replies Luthor, his tone more deliberately acidic. "But why create a life-form that has to sustain itself here? We can genetically modify a pre-existing life form - something cute and cuddly, for the sympathetic sorts - and deposit it on Rann. Preferably something that is already endangered on Earth, such as the polar bear, the Siberian tiger, the harp seal."

He lifts a robe from its hook and dons it casually. "I trust that is clear?"

[mr-henshaw.livejournal.com]

"Remember who rescued you, Luthor. Until Malefic, Despero and I came to your aid you were a goldfish in a bowl, very deep in space." Henshaw steps uncomfortably close to Lex.

"Now mark these words; I want no trace of Earth on my planet. I want no komodo dragon, no bunyip and no damn dodo. I want my own life created of my own choosing, and you are here to do a service. You are under my protection. Do not forget that." His large steel hand clamps down on Luthor's right shoulder. "If I chose to, I could send you to Oa, to Earth, or to the backside of Apokolips but I won't, because I need you for this task. I want this planet to be unique and not some haven for species too weak to survive on our home world."

[man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com]

"And you need me," snarls Luthor in return. "Do not forget that, either. Get me a lab and someone who knows how to use it. I'll get your damned life form made. Count on it."

Anger comes easy; even for Lex, the ire in his voice is raw.

[mr-henshaw.livejournal.com]

"I'm glad we are in agreement."

The Cyborg Superman goes to leave the apartment, but stops in the doorway. "I will arrange for a group of the best Psions to assist in your research." He turns his head before heading out. "Out of curiosity, Luthor... What did you do to end up in a Sciencell?"

[man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com]

Luthor looks back at the reflection in the metal door and replies with a half-smile, "I killed Batman."

[mr-henshaw.livejournal.com]

Henshaw pauses for a few seconds before laughing loudly, and he then walks away.

[man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com]

Lips pursed, Luthor watches Henshaw depart and then wanders to the shower, finally, pensive. And by the end of the shower he feels both more and less confused.

What...did he talk to Henshaw about again? Genetic engineering?

Right. Time to get to work.