After Nightfall: The Return of Superman
Chapter 9: Prisoner
Clark had two categories of memories of Luthor. There were those relatively vague, half-remembered images from before Nightfall. In those memories Luthor always seemed like some cartoon villain. This was a man who had more money and power than any reasonable person could want, but continued to take and destroy seemingly only for the pleasure of doing so.
Then there were the complete memories of what he'd seen of the man after Nightfall. As Clark Kent he'd never been in a position to see behind the mask that Luthor usually wore. If it hadn't been for that recording where he so clearly claimed responsibility for the Nightfall trap that had cost Clark so much, he would have a hard time believing that Luthor was in truth a villain.
But now, with Luthor all but laughing as he gloated over a captive who was not only incapacitated, but in pain as well, the image of that cartoon villain returned. And as Clark watched Luthor circling the room, it was all too apparent that those half-remembered images of the cartoon villain were the far more correct memories of this man.
“He's nearly unconscious,” Lex said, as he looked up toward the window near the ceiling of the chamber. His tone made it clear that he wasn't happy that Clark wasn't more alert. “I don't want him to die too quickly.”
“Sir, you told us to be cautious,” came a defensive voice over a speaker. “Right now, we're making sure that he's getting enough Kryptonite exposure to incapacitate him. After you've finished your initial interview, we'll begin a series of tests to determine what level of Kryptonite exposure is optimum for rendering him powerless and vulnerable, but not enough of an exposure to be fatal. We have a series of tests planned that should only take a few hours to complete. Once we have that information, we can position the Kryptonite to have exactly the result you desire.”
Luthor grunted and turned to face Clark. When he realized that Clark was watching him, his smile grew even broader. “Well, hello, Superman,” he said loudly. “I was afraid that you weren't going to be awake for this interview.” Lex stepped back and went over to a shelf that seemed built into the wall. On the shelf was a pair of black gloves. “Your being here almost makes me glad that my little trick with the concrete wall in LexCorp tower failed,” Luthor said over his shoulder as he put on the gloves. Then he turned back to Clark. “Did you wonder why there was a thick concrete wall right in the path you were supposed to follow for that demolition?” The gloves were on his hands now and Luthor returned to Clark's location in the center of the room. “That whole concrete wall operation was really done just on a whim. I figured what would be the harm in dropping a building on you?” Then Luthor leaned down and got right in Clark's face. “Did you enjoy it as much as I did?”
Clark didn't see the point of an answer so he started to turn his head away.
There was a sudden sharp blow to his face as Luthor punched him. Clark felt a sharp, scratching sensation as he saw blood from his face splatter. A closer look at the gloves revealed that those leather gloves seemed to have metal studs embedded in them. “Don't look away when I'm talking to you!” Luthor shouted. “You're only going to be alive as long as I find you entertaining! So, did you enjoy it when I dropped the building on you?!”
“No,” Clark replied.
That brought a smile to Luthor's face. “Good,” he said, now eerily calm. “I'd hate to think that you could demolish my building and not suffer for it. But as I said, if I'd killed you then, you wouldn't have had the chance to see this nice room that I prepared. Do you like it?”
Clark had learned his lesson from the earlier blow. “Yes,” he replied.
That elicited another smile, and even a light laugh from Luthor. “Good, I'm glad you appreciate your accommodations. Let me give you the tour.” Luthor walked over to the wall and put his hand on the smooth white surface. “The walls are reinforced concrete and eight feet thick. Half-way through, there is a layer of lead plating to make sure that you can't see anything beyond this chamber.” Then he stepped over to a piece of Kryptonite that was mounted on a rod sticking out of the wall. “These rods can be extended all the way to the center of the chamber or retracted into the wall.” Then Luthor pointed at the ceiling where Kryptonite was suspended from wires. “Those can also be raised and lowered. All of these are controlled from that room,” he pointed at the glass, “to fine-tune your exposure. Once we figure out the dosage, we should be able to keep you alive, but unpowered, for an exceptionally long time.”
Then Lex moved to another chunk of Kryptonite that looked to be mounted on the wall. “You will see that I have these smaller pieces embedded in the chamber walls all around you. If the calculations on your susceptibility are correct, as long as you remain at the exact center of the chamber, these shouldn't cause you any harm. If you were to try to get anywhere near a wall or the entrance, this should slow you down.” Then Luthor walked over to the entrance tunnel. “See this line?” he asked, pointing at a red line approximately five feet from the door. “That's your deadline. If you touch that line, the men behind those guns above you are to open fire. No hesitation and no questions asked. If you touch the line, or they even think you are about to touch the line, all of the Kryptonite suspended above you will drop to the floor and they will open fire. If you die I will be mildly disappointed. If you escape, every one of them and their families will be killed.”
“Why?” Clark croaked.
“Because the game isn't over,” Luthor snapped. “You thought you'd won.” With every word his voice grew a little louder. “First you took my city and then you took everything else. You need to know that the game isn't over until I say it is!” he shouted. By the time he had finished he'd been shouting at the top of his lungs.
In that moment, Clark realized that Luthor wasn't simply angry and evil, the ex-billionaire was insane as well. And Clark was completely in his power. “If you want to win so badly, why don't you just kill me?” Clark asked in a croaking voice. “Why all the trouble to build this room?”
“Because you need to suffer,” Luthor said coldly. “When I thought I'd killed you, I figured we were even. I'd lost a lot, but you'd lost your life. That seemed fair. But no, you weren't dead. Not only that, but you came back and pulled that stunt with Klein to make yourself more popular than ever. So now it isn't enough to kill you. I need to make you suffer. This room can inflict no small amount of pain on its own. But I plan to visit you every day to make sure you're... comfortable.”
Suddenly Luthor pushed him. Clark fell out of the chair and onto his back. Then Luthor was above him, punching his face. Based on the way the blows were falling, he guessed Luthor might be kneeling on his chest, but Clark really couldn't tell. The beating went on and on. Clark had seen bullies in schoolyards do this to helpless victims. He never thought he would be on the receiving end of this kind of beating.
He must have passed out because the next thing he knew was water splashing on his face. “You're back? Good,” Luthor's voice said. “Now that was fun. Just think, Superman, we'll get to play this way every day. At least, up to the point where I get tired of the game and decide to kill you.”
Clark heard footsteps retreating and then Luthor's voice again. “I want that report on his reaction to varying the Kryptonite distance to be waiting for me first thing tomorrow morning,” Luthor said, apparently to someone in the control room. “And don't let him die. I've barely begun to play.”
Slowly, but painfully, Clark opened his eyes open to find Luthor standing at the doorway staring at him. “Oh, and one more thing. You came here to rescue the lovely Ms. Lane. Well, I thought you should know that I have no plans to release her – ever. I have plans for her, but... well, let’s just say that I don't think Mr. Kent would approve of my plans for his wife.” Then Luthor laughed and walked out the door.
~~~***~~~
The bed felt especially soft this morning, but Lois's clothes felt a little tight. Then she realized that something was wrong. Her eyes popped open and she looked around the room. This wasn't home. In fact, this wasn't any place that she remembered.
How did she get here? She concentrated for a few seconds. She'd been in the park. She remembered watching the people walk by. The woman, Sally, was supposed to meet her at three o’clock sharp. The last thing she remembered was a sting in the back of her neck. Lois reached to the back of her neck and could feel a small bump where she'd been stung – or more probably, where she'd been drugged. She looked around the room again. It looked more like the bedroom of a nice apartment, than what she would find in a hotel room. However, there was no window.
Lois swung her legs off the bed and sat up. She didn't feel any residual dizziness so she stood, moving slowly just in case. She achieved vertical without any problem. That was a good sign. She went to the bathroom. It was very nice. Wherever she was, it was a classy establishment. The bathroom was well stocked including towels, washcloths and other linens that a person might need. There was a medicine cabinet which contained a few basics such as aspirin and mouthwash. It even held a new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste.
A large walk-in closet on the other side of the bathroom was fully stocked with women's clothes. It only took a few seconds to determine that they were all of a similar style as she generally wore, and that everything was in her size. The implications of the clothes sent a chill through her.
It was time to find out what was going on. She returned to the bedroom and headed for the closed door that looked like should lead to the rest of the apartment. She hoped she wouldn't have to batter her way out, but was ready to do so if that was going to be what it took to get home. Somewhat to her surprise, the doorknob turned easily.
The doorway lead to a short hall. At the end of the hall was a huge living area. Off to the left was a kitchen and eating area. In front of her was some kind of gathering area with chairs and a sofa. Off to her right was an entertainment area with a large television. This was clearly some sort of luxury apartment.
“I'm glad to see that you're awake,” came a pleasant voice from her right. Lois turned quickly to see an older woman smiling at her from the other end of the entertainment area. She seemed to have come from a section of the apartment out beyond the entertainment area.
“Who are you?” Lois snapped. “And why am I here?”
“My name is Martha,” she woman answered calmly. “Martha Severs. As to why you're here, I don't know.”
“What do you mean, you don't know. One minute I was in Children's Park to meet someone. The next thing I remember is waking up here.” Lois looked her over. “You don't look like you were kidnapped.”
“No, dear, I was hired to be here. But I've already been told that you aren't here by choice. If we can sit down I'll be happy to tell you all I know.”
This woman sounded awfully genuine. Maybe it was that English accent. Or the fact that she looked like somebody's grandmother out of a movie. But this wasn't the time to talk. “I need to get out of here,” Lois said. “Where's the door that leads out of this place?”
“This way,” the woman said. She started toward the kitchen area and walked up to a metal panel the size and shape of a doorway. “From what I can tell, this is the door.”
Lois looked at the 'door' carefully. It was nothing more than a flat, blank sheet of steel. As a test, Lois pounded on it with her fist. She could tell from the sound and feel that it was very thick. She looked back at Martha. “What do you mean by 'from what you can tell', don't you know how to get in and out?”
“No, dear,” she answered. “I was asleep when I arrived and woke up here just as you did.”
“But you said you weren't kidnapped.”
“No,” then Martha looked around. “Can we please sit down? It would make a much more pleasant talk.”
“Fine,” Lois said, not ready to trust this woman no matter how grandmotherly she seemed.
Martha headed immediately to the kitchen table and sat. Lois followed and sat across from her. “That's better,” Martha said. “So if you aren't going to tell me your name, could you please make up something. I hate the idea that I'll be addressing you only as Miss for as long as we're here.”
“I'm Lois Lane,” Lois said.
“It's nice to meet you, Lois,” Martha said. “You're American, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Lois replied.
“How nice,” Martha said. “I used to see a lot of Americans, but after Nightfall, most of you stopped coming to London. Do you live here?”
“I live in Metropolis.” Lois answered, confused.
“I've always wanted to visit the states,” Martha mused. “I've grew up wanting to see the world, but somehow I never got around to it. What were you doing in London?”
“London? I haven't been in London for years. I was in Metropolis when I was kidnapped.”
“Oh, my,” Martha said. “Then I'd say one of us is a long way from home. I was hired in London.”
“Hired?” Lois asked. “Maybe you should tell me how you came to be here.”
“I responded to an advertisement in the London Times for a ladies maid. I applied for the job and was called in for an interview. The interview was fairly standard. The only unusual part was the question about being out-of-contact.”
“Out-of-contact?” Lois asked.
“Yes,” Martha replied. “The woman interviewing me, her name was Beth, said that the lady that I would be taking care of went long stretches in total isolation and that if I took the job I could be out of contact with my friends and family for several months.”
“Didn't that strike you as a strange situation?”
“Yes, but I've heard of things like this before. Lois, how much experience do you have with people of extreme wealth?”
“Some,” Lois said cautiously, “but that isn't my life.”
“I can tell,” Martha chuckled. “Dear, for the most part people are people. But I've been doing this sort of thing much of my life, and I've seen enough to know that it takes all kinds. So, the idea that my lady would be a recluse was unusual, but not startling.”
“So how did you get here?” Lois asked.
“There was another round of interviews and then they told me that I got the job. I was told to pack whatever I needed for a trip that would last from one to two months. Then they picked me up at my home in a limousine. That was the last thing I remember before I woke up here. When I woke up I started looking around when a voice started talking to me.”
“A voice?” Lois interrupted.
“Yes. There are speakers throughout the apartment. The voice sounded electronic and artificial, but it explained that I would be taking care of a very important woman who was going to be held against her will. I tried to protest but the voice didn't respond to anything I said. That was about two days ago. At least, I've slept twice since then. You'll notice that there are no clocks and no way to judge time in this apartment.”
“Do you know if this is London?”
“No. I would have sworn that I had only been asleep for a few minutes when I woke up here. But I guess that doesn't mean very much. This place,” Martha motioned to indicate the room, “doesn't feel like London to me. I guess that means we're in Metropolis.”
“Not necessarily. This place doesn't feel quite like Metropolis either. It reminds me of a luxury hotel suite I saw in Hong Kong once.”
“You think we're in Hong Kong,” Martha exclaimed.
“No. But I think this apartment was designed so that it could be almost anywhere.” Lois glanced at her bare wrist. Until now she hadn't noticed her missing watch. “How did I arrive?”
“I don't know. I guess someone brought you in while I was asleep. All I really know is that you were in your bed when I woke up a few hours ago. I closed your door so that I wouldn't disturb you when I started my morning routine.”
“You said you've been here a few days?” Lois asked.
“Yes.”
“How do you get food?”
“The kitchen is stocked with basic necessities. But the voice told me when I arrived that all meals would be delivered by the dumbwaiter.” Martha pointed to the small opening door in the kitchen wall. “There is a menu next to the dumbwaiter. When I want something I press the call button and place my order. The food comes a little later.”
Lois went over to the dumbwaiter door. It seemed to be locked. “It's locked,” Lois said to Martha.
“I noticed that it only opens when the food is there.”
“Oh,” Lois said. Perhaps that would be an avenue of escape. She'd keep those thoughts to herself for now. Martha seemed genuine, but there was no way Lois could trust her.
Suddenly there was a voice from over Lois's head. “Ms. Lane?” This was clearly an artificial voice of someone using a voice altering device.
“I demand that you release me immediately!” Lois shouted.
“I'm sorry, Ms. Lane, but that will not be possible. You must remain our guest for the time being. I assure you that we mean you no harm, and, as you will see, we have done all that we can to make your stay as pleasant as possible.”
“You'll never get away with this,” Lois said. “My husband will find me. We have powerful friends.”
“I cannot speak for what your husband might do. If he does find you, then you may leave us sooner that we planned. However, the chances of being rescued by your husband are very small. We know the team of Lane and Kent, and we know which person is the more capable member of that team. With you here, I doubt he will have any success in finding you. As for your powerful friends, we have taken that into account as well. In fact, it will come as no surprise to you that your friendship with Superman was the primary reason that you are with us now.”
“You know Superman?” Martha interrupted.
“We're... friends,” Lois answered.
“Lois, you are too modest. Martha, Lois Lane is the only woman for whom Superman ever showed any interest. In some circles it has been speculated that she only married her husband because she thought Superman to be dead. Ms. Lane is our guest because we need Superman to do something for us. Her presence is how we intend to compel him to cooperate.”
“Superman’s just a friend,” Lois appealed. “Holding me won't get him to do anything for you.”
“We shall see,” the voice replied. “Whatever Superman may or may not do, you will be our guest for quite some time. Martha is there to make your stay as pleasant as possible. We hope the apartment meets your needs. Also, if there is anything you would like in terms of books or movies that are not already present in your suite, please let us know You can ask for whatever you would like using the same call system as you use to order food. As I said, you are our guest and we will do what we can to make your stay as pleasant as possible.”
“You could let me go,” Lois commented.
“I'm sorry, but that is the one request that we cannot grant. Henceforth, we will only contact you on an as-needed basis.”
A long moment passed in silence. “I think he's done,” Martha said.
“I need to think,” Lois commented. “It feels like morning to me. I need to go through my morning routine. How do I get coffee?”
“I'd be happy to make you some, dear. That's one of the things we can do for ourselves. Why don't you do get yourself cleaned up and I'll get the coffee started.”
“Thank you, Martha. What about breakfast?”
“I had mine before you woke up. You can order whatever you want when you come out and have your coffee. It has only taken a few minutes from when I've placed my food orders to when the food arrived. Breakfast has been very quick to arrive each day.”
“Is the food any good?”
“I think so,” Martha replied. “But I'm easy to please. All the food that I've had so far has been very good.”
“Well, that's something,” Lois grumbled. “I'm going to take a shower. I'll be out in a few minutes.”
“Fine. Oh, and how strong do you like your coffee?”
“As strong as you can make it,” Lois said as she turned and headed back to her room.
~~~***~~~
It had been several hours since Lex had finished his encounter with Superman. Lex had known that the confrontation would leave him wound up, but this was far beyond what he’d expected.
The months since he’d disappeared had passed in something of a blur. Fortunately he’d planned well and money wasn’t a problem. At first he’d been afraid that he would have to abandon his identity because of his role in the Nightfall mission failure. However, there remained enough people that either hated Superman for their own reasons, or were willing to forgive anything for money, that he was able to reestablish his life using his own identity.
In many ways, his biggest challenge had been trying to pick a path for the rest of his life. He hated walking away from his unfinished business in Metropolis. It wasn’t his empire… that was a contest that he’d already won. No, his biggest regret was the loss of Lois Lane. From the moment she’d called him out at the White Orchid ball, she’s captivated him as few other women had. It hadn’t taken long to decide that she would be the next Mrs. Luthor.
After Superman had been killed, he’d been certain that she would be his. With her world collapsing around her, she would naturally turn to him for support. But he’d made a slight miscalculation in the form of Lois’s hayseed partner. Kent had been collateral damage in his attack on Superman, and that had brought out the maternal instinct in Lois.
Under other circumstances it would have simply added spice to the game. It would have been amusing to see Kent confused and alone after Lex had charmed Lois away from him. Of course, if that did prove too challenging, then Kent would have simply met with a tragic accident. The streets of Metropolis had been so dangerous since Nightfall.
But Lex had been forced to flee before those plans could be put into serious motion. And what was worse, the evidence that Nigel had stupidly allowed to survive, had turned his Lois against him. That meant that he needed to find a way to not only eliminate Kent, but to rehabilitate himself in her eyes. Planning for that operation had been nearly complete when Superman reappeared.
Superman provided Lex with new purpose. He would destroy the hero – painfully, personally this time – and use the same operation to affect his rehabilitation with Lois. Indeed, the operation was proceeding perfectly according to plan. Superman and Lois were now exactly where they were supposed to be.
Lex was considering heading for bed when a particularly special light flashed. Lex picked up the phone and dialed a number that he’d committed to memory. The voice at the other end of the line answered with, “Control room.”
“You signaled,” Lex said.
“She’s awake.”
“Good, how is she?”
“Angry. As you predicted, she tried threatening us with powerful friends. I replied with the exact lines from the script.”
“I want the record of your exchange, along with the video, sent to me immediately,” Lex said calmly.
“Sir, we can provide a feed. Also, as you know, you could speak to her directly. It would be impossible for her to recognize your voice.”
“I can't risk that,” Lex replied. “She’s too smart. She might be able to pick out a phrase or recognize word choices if I were to speak to her directly. We will continue as planned.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What's happening now?”
“They – her and the servant woman – have decided that it’s morning. They're getting ready for breakfast.”
Lex glanced at the clock which showed 2:00 a.m. Removing them from any external time sense would create subtle imbalances which would serve his long term goals. “Very well, remember, they cannot be allowed to have any clues as to the time of day or any other time passage.”
“Yes sir. I have the men who are monitoring Ms. Lane’s apartment on special three-hour shifts around the clock to make sure that they are always fresh.”
“Good,” Lex said. “I’ll be waiting for that video.”
“I will send it as soon as this call is finished.”
Lex leaned back in his chair and smiled. After they were married, Lois was going to love Italy. And eventually, after – with her help – his image had been rehabilitated – she would come to relish in being the very public Mrs. Lex Luthor.
TBC
