Previously - Chapter 4 ***
Part 2 – “...when first we practice to deceive.” - Marmion (Walter Scott)***
Chapter 5***
September 15, 1995
Lex was patient. It was a gift to be so patient. Lex’s other talent was character assessment. His instincts told him that this Mayzik had something very valuable to offer him. Lex had been planning this conversation for some time. Calculated networking and persuading had led up to this moment. Today Lex would discover something that would alter the course of his life. He could feel it in his bones.
Rightly so, he had been limited to few and far between interactions with fellow inmates of the prison. Not because he was violent, but because the justice system would be foolish to believe it couldn’t be swayed by a mastermind like Lex Luthor. Naturally, though, he had managed to finagle things to suit his needs and finally found not just one guard who would orchestrate a meeting between them, but two.
Carl Buchner, the guard assigned to supervise Lex’s comings and goings most days as well as this one, led him to the common room and released him. A look crossed between them and Lex turned his attention to the other door across the room where Jason Mayzik had just come through. Carl would be gone for two hours, giving him ample time to get what he needed from Mayzik. Lex gave a discreet nod to Travis Knapp, the other guard doing his bidding.
Lex had lost everything.
His fortune was gone.
The disenchanted Lois Lane held nothing but pity for him.
His status in the city he had called his own had been taken over by his arch nemesis.
All his time in prison thus far had been used to steep in his hatred of their beloved super-powered
refugee. The alien had stolen everything from him and reduced him to nothing but a common convict, forced to spend his time behind bars when he should be the one in control. He hadn’t even been lucky enough to bypass his fate, his chance thwarted by the quick actions of the oh-so-virtuous Superman.
But now he’d been afforded a second chance – an opportunity to get back what was rightfully his. And he would do so with the aid of Jason Mayzik, a jeweler’s son sent to prison for stealing from his own father and blackmailing Superman. How fortunate for Lex that his long-avoided imprisonment resulted in an opportunity to associate with a man after his own heart. Lex had heard of Mayzik’s intense hatred of Superman and was immediately tempted to learn more. His unfailing ingenuity produced this break in his bad luck to pursue an acquaintance with as much privacy as two inmates in a medium security prison could ever hope for.
“Mayzik,” Lex greeted. “How is your time in confinement going?” Lex gestured to a couple of arm chairs facing an empty table near the edge of the large main room.
“Lex Luthor,” Mayzik returned, seeming only mildly startled at the meeting. Lex saw his defenses go up immediately and smiled inwardly. They sat in the chairs Lex had indicated. The side view that these seats afforded Lex was one he preferred. “I’d say it is going better now. It is a pleasure to meet such a famous criminal.”
“Criminal?” Lex allowed the mild offense he felt to show. “That term has such bad connotations. Surely there is something better.”
“Yes, well,” Mayzik eluded answering. “I’ve always admired your
ambitions in life … and sought them for myself.”
“You flatter me, Mayzik,” Lex said flatly. “Let’s cut to the chase then, shall we?”
“Certainly.” Mayzik relaxed back into the chair and waited as if he had the upper hand.
“I understand you and I share a keen hatred of a particular superhero that likes to run around in tights and a cape,” Lex began.
“You’d be right on that account,” Mayzik acknowledged.
“I’d love to know more about how you managed to blackmail Superman, and successfully, as it’s told to me.”
"I’m sure you would.” He smiled as if he held the world in his hands. “I’ve been thinking about the offer your… man… disclosed to me.” Was that surprise Lex saw? Was Mayzik
surprised that even in prison Lex Luthor would have people to do his bidding?
“And was it… to your liking?” Lex inquired.
Mayzik seemed to think about it for a moment before a grin teased the corners of his mouth. “Actually, I’m not sure its adequate.”
Lex was absolutely certain it was entirely adequate. Even so, he was only mildly offended by this. After all, Mayzik was essentially a child, young and inexperienced. His father died before adequately training him in the art of successful business dealings.
Patience, thought Lex.
“And what would be required to make it adequate?”
“Double.” Mayzik nonchalantly examined his fingernails.
“You must have quite the morsel of information.”
“Obviously,” Mayzik sneered. “I assure you it is well worth the expense.”
“I’m sure.”
“Look, if you don’t care to hear what I know, I’m sure I can find someone else – “
“That,” Lex interrupted, holding up his hand, “won’t be necessary. I agree to your terms.” He conceded for now, knowing full well that if he didn’t get what he wanted, he would find another way to get his money’s worth. “Just be aware that I do not put up with being let down.”
“Excellent. And you
won’t be disappointed.”
“Good then. Shall we proceed?” Lex was running low on patience.
“Blackmailing Superman was actually quite easy,” Mayzik began. “You merely need to know the right pieces of information.”
“Naturally. And that would be…?” Lex pressed.
“I was blessed with a hoarder for a father, you know. Took forever to go through all his junk after he died. One day I came upon this ratty old book. I can’t explain what caused me to give it a second glance, but I did. Read it cover to cover, actually. It was a wealth of information - predictions, all of them true.”
Lex waited patiently, intrigued.
“It was like reading Nostradamus but specifically about Metropolis and its inhabitants ... including Superman.’
“Do you still have this book?” Lex asked.
“Sadly, no,” Mayzik said with a shake of his head. “That blockhead Superman destroyed it.”
“How, then, am I to believe what you are about to tell me?” Information was one thing, but unsubstantiated information was an entirely different beast. Mayzik could make up anything, and while eventually Lex would know, he would rather not have his assets compromised while he awaited verification.
“Early on, after the appearance of Superman, you were in possession of a … device. I don’t need to mention how you came to be in possession of this thing. It was a globe actually, of the planet Krypton.”
Lex’s eyebrows rose and when Mayzik turned to see him, he gave a half smile and continued.
“This globe would occasionally glow, and an image would appear to whomever was holding it, sharing information about Kal-El, which even you realized was Superman. Kal-El’s planet exploded shortly after he was born. You were quite surprised to learn that his parents sent him to Earth as a baby. Did you know these images were viewed by both you and Superman? The globe was…is… somehow connected to him.”
“
This… was in your book?” Lex asked in disbelief.
“Is there another way I could know that?” Mayzik went back to investigating his fingernails.
“Didn’t Nigel St. John work with you to blackmail Superman?” Lex considered it possible that his former trusted associate may have given that bit of information to Mayzik, since he was there. He would like to think better of his confidante, but after all, Nigel did double-cross him in the end.
“Funny thing, your
man-servant,” Mayzik began, setting his hands down on his knees. “Despite his double-crossing of you recently, back then he still behaved like a loyal puppy. I couldn’t get him to tell me anything.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” It appeared that Lex had no choice but to believe him, for now. But more importantly, this would also mean that the next bit of information Lex would leach from Mayzik would likely be true as well, provided he wasn’t lying about Nigel. “So, your information is accurate?”
“Every last bit. It was how my father was able to become so rich. He merely invested based on what was in the book. He was
not the hardworking type he showed everybody.”
“I see. So, something from this book prompted you to blackmail Superman?” Lex inquired.
“Nah, he was just a means to an end. I figured I could rid the world of Superman and Lois Lane as well as steal my father’s fortune. I just let Superman know what information I had, and he was
so willing to keep it hidden.”
Lex quickly worked to mask his indignation at hearing that Mayzik was after Lois as well. It was looking like Mayzik would see much less than double his original offer.
“I see. And some of this information was rather important?” Lex hastened. This conversation was taking much longer than he would have liked, the unnecessary banter grating on his nerves.
“Oh, it was the kind of stuff a celebrity would never want printed.”
Lex cocked an eyebrow and waited.
“Nothing like illegal behavior or embarrassing illness…but a secret identity,” Mayzik said slowly. “Relatives, so to speak. Possible hostages, as it were.”
“You mean to tell me that Superman masquerades among the masses as a normal person?” Lex could hardly contain his excitement at what he was hearing. Mayzik knew Superman’s secret identity!
“Yes, and you won’t be surprised to hear who!” The twinkle in Mayzik’s eyes was exhilarating, like a toddler ready to spill the beans on a surprise. “Or maybe you will be! Either way… It’s too bad Superman destroyed the book, or I’d tell everyone. You are the only one in a position to believe me, with the sordid history the two of you share…”
Only excessive experience on this end of a business deal would allow Lex to so easily mask his intense fascination. He merely lifted his eyebrows and waited for the anticipated bit of gossip.
“
Clark. Kent.” The way Mayzik enunciated each part of the name emphasized the immense significance of what he was saying.
Lex mulled the name around, assimilating it with what he knew about Superman and Clark Kent. Suddenly, all the pieces fit together. Kent was so obviously never present when Superman was. Superman was equally never present when Kent was. The obsequious reporter that had taken his place,
his place, in Lois’s heart did have similar features to his only worthy adversary. He imagined the meek Kent removing his disguise and assuming a different demeanor.
Superman had been hiding in plain sight.
How stupid everyone was to be fooled by a pair of glasses.
Then another thought dawned on him.
Lois.
She and Kent were dating. He’d noted that when he returned from the dead. While she still had an eye for the super hero, she seemed to be ogling the simple man just as much, if not more. Thanks to Carl, he was aware that the two were now an item, practically engaged. Did she know? She must have for she was no fool. How long had she known and how did she find out?
Lex felt his upper lip curling in rage at being so fooled and fought to maintain his composure by taking a slow breath. It would not do to allow Mayzik to see how his information had affected him. Recalling that Mayzik had unwittingly given up the goods before receiving his due, he smiled.
“Well, that is quite fascinating” Lex thanked him. “You’ll find your reward as per our original agreement waiting in the manner discussed.”
“What?!” Mayzik said irately, shocked at the possibility of being outwitted. “You agreed to double.”
“Yes, and when I can verify your information, you will see the rest.” A manipulative smile spread on Lex’s face.
Mayzik grimaced but then sat back, defeated. “I suppose I have no choice at this point,” he said.
“If only your father had been alive longer. He might have been able to teach you some of his business skills,” Lex jabbed. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” With that he nodded to Knapp.
As Knapp came and collected Mayzik, leading him away, Lex remained in his chair for a few minutes longer, meditating over what he’d just learned.
Clark Kent is Superman.Knowing that Kent had somehow won Lois’s heart made Lex sick to his stomach. He hated to be bested, even more so when it didn’t make sense – Kent had
nothing to offer Lois. It was salt to an open wound to learn that his arch enemy was one and the same. That charlatan had stolen
everything from Lex. His remaining time in prison would not be wasted but instead would be rather valuable in that he would use all of his time planning a new and miserable existence for
both of his enemies.
***
September 25, 1995
It was a brilliant plan. As soon as he thought of it, he knew that it would not only be successful, but it would also provide him with an infallible way to ensure that Lois Lane would be his and his enemy Clark Kent, a.k.a Superman, would suffer a miserable existence for the rest of his pathetic life. Eager to begin laying the foundation for such an ingenious strategy, he first found the right people to participate.
Carl had become Lex’s trusted assistant out of necessity, replacing those who had previously held the position. It was only coincidentally that Carl became one of Lex’s full-time guards, but Lex welcomed it as soon as he realized just how easily Carl was manipulated. In a short time, Lex was able to coax him into doing his bidding. Lex was doubly pleased with how well he was able to do the things requested of him, as if he had missed his calling in becoming a prison guard when he clearly was destined for a life of immorality. If only Lex had met Carl before being incarcerated.
In the time since the fateful conversation with Mayzik, Lex used Carl to assemble a team of evildoers with the necessary skills to complete his agenda. Carl began scheduling meetings for him as soon as was reasonable such that no one would be the wiser. In addition to reviewing notes from Carl on those with the innate evil and know-how to be capable of accomplishing what he wanted, Lex began working on how he, and anyone else he needed, would be released from prison. Lex’s first opportunity to test Carl’s ability to choose accomplices came in the form of a meeting with another inmate who, like Mayzik, had something to offer Lex.
“He’s a genius,” Carl told him days before. “So persuasive that he convinced a board of directors that his research was ethical when it was probably the most unethical proposal yet.”
Jay Hightower was a neurologist and a researcher, he was also gifted with engineering skills and was apparently highly persuasive. Despite that influence, Hightower, too, found himself in the same medium security prison as Lex. And this was the perfect opportunity for Lex to pick his brain and recruit him to his masterful plan.
Lex sat waiting for the arrival of his next appointment, scheduled in the same manner as his first. Lex mulled over his ideas, thankful that his memory was razor sharp and the need to write things down to keep track of them was nonexistent. The opening of the other door grabbed his attention.
A tall, thin man carried himself with confidence into the room and sat in the chair next to Lex, propping his feet up on the table in front of them. Intelligence exuded from his pores and Lex realized that Hightower was much younger than he was expecting. Yet Carl insisted that this would be the guy to get things done. This meeting would certainly serve as a test of Carl’s abilities as much as Hightower’s.
“Dr. Hightower,” Lex greeted him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lex extended his hand.
Hightower grasped the hand a gave a firm shake. “Likewise,” he said with a smile. “Buchner says that you need someone to … invent something for you.”
Lex was impressed by the handshake and furthermore by the young man’s eagerness to get to the point. This conversation would go much better than the one with Mayzik. A smile spread on his face.
“Yes, well, I believe I’ve already invented it, but I lack certain skills to actually turn it into a reality,” Lex began.
“Well, your offer was a little unclear to me.” He turned his head to look at Lex before asking, “Will you also be supplying the materials, or will I have to procure those myself out of what you intend to pay me?”
“Everything will be provided,” Lex answered. “It will be similar in nature to working at a research facility. You will submit requests for approval, verifying their necessity. And, so long as you are making adequate progress, everything you wish will be granted.”
Hightower maintained eye contact with Lex for a moment, his brows drawn, assessing, before he nodded his agreement. “Tell me what you want.”
Lex took a page from Hightower’s book and got right to it. “I want a machine that can erase select memories, change others, and implant new ones into any number of people.” He watched Hightower’s eyes widened as he said this and held his gaze.
Hightower turned to face forward again as his facial expression changed repeatedly until he said, “Alright…”
“Can you do it?” Lex asked.
“Yes…” Hightower confirmed slowly.
The hesitation in Hightower’s voice was unconvincing. “How difficult is it to replace memories?” Lex asked.
Hightower’s changing emotions seemed to settle on confident in the end and he turned his body to face Lex, placing his knee on the chair. “It isn’t difficult to remove them,” he began, illustrating with his hands, “but putting something in its place is…” Lex lifted an eyebrow and waited for Hightower to continue. Hightower shifted in his seat to face forward again. “So far, there have always been ... unusual side effects due to the methods used.” He waved his hand in the air as he said, “I’d have to come up with something entirely new.”
Lex nodded. “Yes, this procedure must be permanent and unnoticeable-”
“I was working on that before I was … detained,” Hightower cut in.
“Excellent,” said Lex honestly. “I also require you to come up with a way to use this device on a… substantial audience.”
“How substantial?” asked Hightower, peeking at Lex.
“Everyone we can reach,” stated Lex, bluntly.
“Excuse me?” Hightower’s eyes went wide again.
“It must also be customizable depending on the person its used on,” Lex added.
“Let me see if I get what you’re saying. You want to pick and choose the memories that various people keep, lose, or have changed?”
Lex nodded. Perhaps Carl had exaggerated the usefulness of this
Dr. Hightower. He couldn’t risk giving the job to someone who doubted the possibility of completing the task.
Hightower frowned at him. “Luthor, this is a large task,
huge. I don’t even know how much time or money that would take. Are you in a position to wait if needed, to increase the budget as well??”
Lex would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t as experienced. Instead he simply met Hightower with a direct stare. “Of course. Can you do it?”
Hightower sat back in his chair and propped his feet back up on the table. “Absolutely,” he said with a tone that finally convinced Lex he had found his man. “I’ll need assistants and a place to work. How exactly do you plan on getting me out of here?”
“Done,” Lex authorized. “And, leave that to me. The less you know the better.” Lex shifted in his chair to be able to extend his hand to seal the deal.
“Okay,” Hightower said, shaking Lex’s hand again. He moved to stand and asked, “Are we done then?”
“Yes,” Lex said as he stood also. “I’ll not be seeing you again, mind you. When you believe you’ve achieved the goal I’ve set for you, contact Carl, he will be waiting to hear from you.”
“You got it. Thank you, Mr. Luthor. It’s been a pleasure.” Hightower gave a slight nod of his head before turning to the door where Knapp stood waiting to escort him back.
With a satisfied sigh, Lex walked to the window that overlooked a courtyard below. Character assessment was indeed his greatest gift. In the short time he spoke with Hightower, he could tell that this idea of his was something that even Hightower found alluring. And that would provide additional motivation beyond anything Lex could offer him.
Lex lowered his head and peeked over his shoulder at Carl who stood at the door through which they would leave. He gave a slight nod of approval and laughed internally at the man’s inability to hide his sense of relief. Carl and Hightower had passed their first tests. Confidence in his plan solidified and, without hesitation, he moved on to the next step.
***
September 29, 1995
A beep from the computer at his lab station jarred Scott Ferguson, research assistant at S.T.A.R. Labs, back to reality, indicating that it had finally completed the hours of analysis it had been working on. Wiping his bleary eyes and setting his book down on the table, he sat forward and squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the data he saw there. Then his grey-green eyes widened.
Scott had been working this boring job for almost two years, and only now was it about to be exciting. It was a nice job, but only about twenty percent of the time was it interesting and fun. The other eighty percent of the time was filled with meetings, paperwork, and endless hours of waiting for some part to come in or specialist to arrive to fix something only one person in the world even knew existed. His favorite part of that eighty percent was the time he could sit waiting on something and surf the internet or read a good book instead. But today would fall into that twenty percent.
While this was close to the kind of job he’d always wanted, he certainly hadn’t come by it in any sort of traditional manner. His run-of-the-mill childhood was uneventful at best. His family was just like any other -- his father, a laborer in a factory that manufactured pieces that would eventually be assembled into refrigerators, his mother, a traditional stay-at-home mom, himself, and his younger sister.
He would have worked in the same factory as his father if it hadn’t been for an aptitude test he’d taken in high school. He didn’t quite have the intelligence to be an engineer, but the test pointed him in the direction of nuclear technician. After he graduated high school with the rest of his peers without any particular honors, he began a vocational program for nuclear operators.
His path had changed, however, when his father died unexpectedly, leaving Scott to take care of his mother, whose recent injury in a car accident kept her from being able to work, and his sister, who was not even in high school yet. He could no longer justify going halfway across the country for an entry level job. And with no prospects in the vicinity of Metropolis, he worked part time positions where he could get them, all unrelated to his particular skill set. None of the positions he held paid enough and desperation soon led him in an altogether different direction.
He had just picked up another part time job, this one as a cashier at a gas station just down the street from his apartment. He had started chatting with one of the other employees, John, who made pizzas in the evenings. Ever in a good mood, ready to joke about anything, it lifted Scott’s spirits to be able to hang out with him.
A few weeks into the job, John had made an attempt to further break the ice. “I know what it’s like to be working paycheck to paycheck,” he’d said. “Struggling, hoping to make ends meet. I can take you to meet someone who can help.” And the next thing Scott knew, he had been convinced to meet John’s other boss, the man responsible for John’s seemingly perpetual good mood.
Nothing could have prepared him for that first introduction. The building where they met looked like a perfectly upstanding place complete with potted plants and secretaries manning the front desk. Mr. Jones was a charismatic salesman who presented the job opportunity in the best of light and easily won Scott over with the benefits and pay that promised him an easy means to take care of his mother and sister.
It wasn’t until later that Scott even realized just exactly what he was being asked to do. The tasks had been small and benign at first – deliver this item to this address, pick this package up and hand it to that person – but they became progressively more suspect in nature – prevent this person from arriving, cut that cable – but he was always paid well for everything he did. Well enough that he was able to keep one part time job for appearances and relax knowing that his family would have everything they needed.
After many years of doing someone else’s dirty work, an associate of Lex Luthor’s approached him with a proposal to take on a new position. The job was simple, he would work as a lab technician and do whatever the scientists he worked with told him to. And if anything regarding Superman ever crossed his path, he was to share that information with Luthor. The thought of doing something more in line with what he’d envisioned as a kid appealed to him and Scott took him up on the offer almost immediately.
Unfortunately for Luthor, during that first year, nothing came up. And then Luthor died. It was lucky that Scott was able to keep his job. If only Luthor had stuck around longer. During that second year, not only had Superman gone blind, but then the lab next to his installed a vault to house kryptonite! When Lex Luthor managed to come back from the dead, his position picked right back up and he’d told Luthor about the kryptonite and the research they were doing with it – trying to stop it from affecting Superman. He continued in the position with a very generous increase in pay despite Luthor’s capture.
But now, this!
This would be an interesting bit of information to share with Luthor. It could even spell a nice bonus on his part.
The S.T.A.R. Labs Astronomy team had been tracking a large object moving through space around a red star, another solar system like ours. Only the orbit of this object was as if it had been rocketed from its original motion and path. It revolved around that red sun in a strange and very elliptical orbit. Too big to be a comet or asteroid, the astronomers ran tests to determine what it was.
Scott was running the emission spectra analysis this morning. These results were incredible. Right there in the middle of the graph was the precise set of blips signifying the presence of kryptonite in this object.
Which meant it was somehow related to Superman.
Scott shoved hard against the floor, pushing his rolling lab stool the ten feet to his desk where he grabbed his phone. He pressed a single button on the phone and was immediately connected with Carl Buchner, Luthor’s newest right-hand man.
“Carl, I’ve got something for Luthor,” he nearly yelled into the phone with his level of excitement so high. He started tapping his pencil on the table, listening.
His brow furrowed. “What? No, I can’t leave right now-” He stopped mid-sentence. “Oh… I see.” He stood up from his stool, pacing. “Um… Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen.”
He set the phone back in its cradle and scribbled a quick note to his supervisor. He set the note on the other desk in the room and grabbed his jacket from the hat stand next to the door. With a quick glance back at the computer screen across the room, he left, closing the door behind him.
***
Fifteen minutes later, Scott walked up to the door of St. Dominic’s Catholic Church on the corner of Bessolo Blvd and Trumbell. It stood with its bell tower at the corner and its west facing entrances on either side of the huge stained-glass window composed of geometric shapes and flowers. Scott shook his head at Luthor’s audacity in using a place of God as meeting location for what were surely sinful acts.
He knocked on the heavy door and waited. Carl answered it and together they went inside. A small narthex fronted the main sanctuary, separated by a beautiful tiled archway. They didn’t enter the sanctuary but instead went through a heavy door at the south end that led them down a spiral staircase as if entering a dungeon.
“Glad you could make it,” Carl interrupted his thoughts as they descended the stairs. “We’re reducing your hours at S.T.A.R. Labs so you can work here part time. Hamilton understands the nature of your family emergency and you’ll be coming here half days to take care of your dad.”
“Considering my dad died when I was twenty-one, that will be weird,” Scott laughed.
“Did I say dad? I meant stepdad,” Carl said, laughing as well.
“Of course…” Scott shook his head.
They reached the bottom of the staircase and stopped in front of another heavy door. Carl pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and inserted a very old looking one into the equally old looking key hole. The door groaned in protest as it opened. Carl extended his hand as he said, “Please, come this way and allow me to introduce to you your stepdad.”
“Ha.” Scott smirked.
The room they entered didn’t match the door or the rest of the church in the least. No more intricately designed stained glass or expertly carved wooden features. This room was stark and sterile feeling. Storage cabinets and countertops lined every wall separated by fume hoods spaced around the room. On the opposite side from where they’d entered, a few doors sat closed. A mixture of large work tables and smaller desks were sprinkled about the center of the room. It reminded Scott of some of the science labs he’d seen in college catalogues and he was excited even more by the proposition of doing something related to his skill set.
But the music.
Scott recognized the song only because it had been in a rerun of some old show his sister was watching just the other day. Nat King Cole was the singer, but he didn’t know what the name of the song was. It wasn’t bad music, but it was much louder than Scott thought necessary. One of the doors opened and a man, who Carl must have referred to as his stepdad, walked in.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, startled. “Let me turn that down.” He reached for a knob on an antique radio that stood out in the room now that Scott noticed it. “Hi,” he greeted, extending his hand. “Dr. Jay Hightower.”
Jay Hightower was a tall, thin man dressed in what appeared to be something of the business casual nature underneath his spotless white lab coat. He looked much too young to be running a job like this. In addition, Scott couldn’t see why a person like Hightower would be listening to Nat King Cole. Wasn’t that kind of music more popular with the older, more retired crowd?
“Hello.” Scott shook the proffered hand. “I’m Scott. Looks like I’ll be working for you for a while.”
“Great,” Jay said, obviously pleased. “What are your qualifications?”
“What do you need my qualifications to be?” Scott shot back, raising his eyebrows playfully. Having no idea what he was here to do in the first place, he wasn’t sure what qualifications would be relevant.
“Funny,” Jay quipped, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Look, I have to go,” said Carl, turning for the door. “I’ll catch up on you guys every now and then for updates.” He shut the door and Scott heard the key turn in the lock.
“Did he just lock us in here?” Scott asked as he quickly turned toward Jay.
“No, that’s just to keep people from coming in.” Jay took a step toward one of the desks and pulled a key from its top drawer. Handing it to Scott, he said, “I hope I don’t have to tell you not to lose it.”
Scott shook his head. “So, what do you need me to do?” he asked, slipping the key into his pocket as he looked around at the materials and equipment strewn about the tables.
“Are you any good at electronics?” Jay cocked his head toward a table covered in circuit parts and soldering equipment.
“Pretty good.” Scott walked to the table and began picking through the things on it. This would have been his second choice had he not gotten into the nuclear operator program. He’d put in a lot of practice in school on his own time just because he loved it so much.
“If I give you a schematic, can you build it?” Jay asked.
“Oh yeah,” he replied confidently. This was beginning to look better than his job at S.T.A.R. Labs.
“Great. Schematics are over there, materials are over there, and you can work at this workstation here.” Jay gestured to these locations as he spoke while simultaneously making his way to yet another table covered in papers. “I hope you don’t mind the music. It helps me focus.”
“Not a problem.” Scott picked up one of the schematics from the table Jay indicated and took it to the work station. “Is this Nat King Cole?” he asked.
“Yep,” Jay answered simply.
Scott began picking over the circuit pieces scattered over the table, organizing them. “You know, I always thought electronics is where I should have gone,” he said trying to make conversation.
“That’s nice.”
“What are you a doctor of?” Scott tried again.
“Neurology.”
Jay leaned over his papers and began scribbling on one of them. Scott took the hint and they worked in silence for a time. The schematic he was working on was crudely drawn but easy enough to follow. Lacking expert knowledge, he couldn’t tell what it was or what it did. It didn’t resemble any of the ones he’d worked on in the vocational program. All the pieces he needed were there at the table, and he soldered away, Nat King Cole blaring in the background. Maybe he’d bring headphones to listen to his own music tomorrow.
Or ear plugs.
“How’d you get interested in this kind of music?” Scott asked as he finished the last connection on the circuit. “Seems a bit …old … for you.”
“My grandparents.” Jay was scrawling quickly with one hand while flipping through a stack of papers with the other. “I don’t think I ever went anywhere with my grandfather without Nat playing in the car.”
Scott stood up and crossed to the table Jay was working at. He couldn’t tell from the mess of diagrams, calculations, and nearly illegible handwriting what he was looking at. He also knew it didn’t matter. Luthor wanted him working here and paid him well to do it without question.
“My little sister likes that kind of music, though I have no idea why.” A little over ten years younger than Scott, his sister was sweet and innocent. He didn’t dare tell her who he worked for or what he really did for a living. Scott shook his head to focus on the task at hand. “Here’s your first circuit board. Where should I put it?
“Over there is fine,” Jay said, indicating a large cabinet that had its doors hanging open. “You should be happy your sister has such fine taste in high quality music,” he added with a smile spreading across his face.
Scott placed the circuit he’d just finished on a shelf in the large cabinet with several other circuits already finished. “I just don’t know where she got it from,” he said, thinking about how this was going to be a boring job if they didn’t find anything interesting to talk about.
***
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