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Chapter 8
The door bore the legend “Central Control”. As it slid open, Lex took in the familiar scene: large darkened room, huge video screens on the walls displaying various computer-generated schematics of human bodies, clusters of desks at which men in white coats studied LCD monitors and tapped away at keyboards. He had never been in this particular room before, but he had seen many like it at other Luthorcorp facilities. It had never been planned, but 33.1 had acquired its own design aesthetic, one that was repeated throughout Lex’s secret empire.
“Ah, Mr Luthor, you deign to join us!” Lex turned to see Professor Rothman standing beside him. He was, as always, clad in an immaculately tailored suit, and seemed unconcerned that Lex might be offended by his words.
“My wife reminded me that I decide my schedule, not the people who work for me,” Lex replied smoothly. He surveyed the room. “I see dead people, Professor.”
Amongst the humans were several figures in Luthorcorp-branded overalls – moving plastic mannequins. Their arms and legs could move, as could their fingers and their heads could swivel and tilt. But their faces were fixed masks, utterly expressionless. They had no voices. As they went about their various tasks, they were animate, yet utterly lifeless. Dead people.
“I didn’t think that you, of all people, would stoop to calling D84s ‘dead people’.” Rothman made no attempt to hide his irritation. “I should point out that I was forced to take disciplinary measures against the employee who first used the term. He won’t make that mistake again.”
“Is that a threat, Professor Rothman?” Lex sounded faintly amused.
“Just an observation,” Rothman smiled back.
“So, why are there D84s working in here? The DARPA evaluation team are expecting a demonstration in seventeen days. I would expect to see the prototypes under test, not fetching drinks.”
“Mr Luthor, if you actually read the updates that your private office insist we provide, you would know that we were unable to bond the samples provided to the first batch of D84 prototypes. Since they are not combat-capable, I decided that it would be better to use them as support staff. If nothing else, they keep their mouths shut.”
“The AUTON contract is worth five billion dollars,” Lex snapped. “Luthorcorp does not lose five billion dollar contracts – not on my watch!”
“And the DARPA team will see a demonstration of six D84s, fully compliant with the AUTON specification,” Rothman reassured him. “That batch is currently under test, and meeting or exceeding all requirements. In six months, we’ll have production D84s in stores all over the United States. Anti-terrorist units in shop windows across the country, and no-one will realise that they are there. Homeland Security won’t believe how they ever did without them. Imagine if a terrorist tries to blow up a shopping mall, and a D84 stops him. Even the President will be beating down your door.”
Lex thought about this, but he had other fish to fry. “What about ‘Minuteman’?”
“The news there is that we have got a lot of useful material from…what did you call him?”
“Titan.”
“Pity we couldn’t get him alive,” Rothman remarked. “Still, analysis of the corpse has enabled us to advance Minuteman quite substantially. The first prototypes will be ready in a few weeks.”
“Alien technology used in the fight against aliens,” Lex whispered thoughtfully. “Professor, as long as the D84s are ready for the DARPA presentation, divert all other resources to Minuteman. Our politicians may believe that the greatest threat to our country comes from international terrorism, but we know better. We need our defences to be ready when the true enemies of humanity make their next attack.”
“Absolutely,” Rothman stared straight into Lex’s eyes. “So many would dismiss what we are doing here as based on paranoid delusions. To have the backing of someone who understands the truth is so important.”
“And you have all the resources that you need?”
“Further samples from your test subjects would be helpful. And our stock of meteor rocks will soon be exhausted.”
“I’ll speak to the relevant areas. What about your supply of raw material?”
“My source has been able to satisfy our needs so far. I don’t anticipate any problems in that area,” Rothman confirmed.
“Then I shall leave you to your work,” Lex replied. He started towards the door, then stopped, and added as an afterthought, “I will expect to be kept fully informed of progress though. So those updates that my private office demand, make sure you provide them.” So saying, he strode purposefully out of the room.
Rothman watched Lex leave. It amused him to think that Lex had bought that line about understanding the truth. What did they say in that movie? You can’t handle the truth! Well, of course he couldn’t. In his own way, he was even more stupid than Titan.
Titan, Titan! Rothman still could not believe the sheer ingratitude of the Dexosi. He had made an arrangement with the creature that was to their mutual benefit. Titan got to indulge his love of fighting, and Rothman obtained valuable information about his capabilities, as well as those of his opponents. Why Titan had to betray him like that was something that Rothman found incomprehensible. The creature was not born of the Earth, but he was here. As such, he had the same purpose as every other creature on this miserable planet – to serve Rothman’s grand design. Of course, Titan had paid the ultimate price for his betrayal, but that was only as it should be. It was curious that he had managed to fall on his own spike whilst apparently fighting a human female, but no matter. He had still made his contribution to the plan, and the plan was advancing.
Rothman looked around the room, noting each of the scientists as they worked.
I see dead people.
--------------------------------
End of Chapter 8
The door bore the legend “Central Control”. As it slid open, Lex took in the familiar scene: large darkened room, huge video screens on the walls displaying various computer-generated schematics of human bodies, clusters of desks at which men in white coats studied LCD monitors and tapped away at keyboards. He had never been in this particular room before, but he had seen many like it at other Luthorcorp facilities. It had never been planned, but 33.1 had acquired its own design aesthetic, one that was repeated throughout Lex’s secret empire.
“Ah, Mr Luthor, you deign to join us!” Lex turned to see Professor Rothman standing beside him. He was, as always, clad in an immaculately tailored suit, and seemed unconcerned that Lex might be offended by his words.
“My wife reminded me that I decide my schedule, not the people who work for me,” Lex replied smoothly. He surveyed the room. “I see dead people, Professor.”
Amongst the humans were several figures in Luthorcorp-branded overalls – moving plastic mannequins. Their arms and legs could move, as could their fingers and their heads could swivel and tilt. But their faces were fixed masks, utterly expressionless. They had no voices. As they went about their various tasks, they were animate, yet utterly lifeless. Dead people.
“I didn’t think that you, of all people, would stoop to calling D84s ‘dead people’.” Rothman made no attempt to hide his irritation. “I should point out that I was forced to take disciplinary measures against the employee who first used the term. He won’t make that mistake again.”
“Is that a threat, Professor Rothman?” Lex sounded faintly amused.
“Just an observation,” Rothman smiled back.
“So, why are there D84s working in here? The DARPA evaluation team are expecting a demonstration in seventeen days. I would expect to see the prototypes under test, not fetching drinks.”
“Mr Luthor, if you actually read the updates that your private office insist we provide, you would know that we were unable to bond the samples provided to the first batch of D84 prototypes. Since they are not combat-capable, I decided that it would be better to use them as support staff. If nothing else, they keep their mouths shut.”
“The AUTON contract is worth five billion dollars,” Lex snapped. “Luthorcorp does not lose five billion dollar contracts – not on my watch!”
“And the DARPA team will see a demonstration of six D84s, fully compliant with the AUTON specification,” Rothman reassured him. “That batch is currently under test, and meeting or exceeding all requirements. In six months, we’ll have production D84s in stores all over the United States. Anti-terrorist units in shop windows across the country, and no-one will realise that they are there. Homeland Security won’t believe how they ever did without them. Imagine if a terrorist tries to blow up a shopping mall, and a D84 stops him. Even the President will be beating down your door.”
Lex thought about this, but he had other fish to fry. “What about ‘Minuteman’?”
“The news there is that we have got a lot of useful material from…what did you call him?”
“Titan.”
“Pity we couldn’t get him alive,” Rothman remarked. “Still, analysis of the corpse has enabled us to advance Minuteman quite substantially. The first prototypes will be ready in a few weeks.”
“Alien technology used in the fight against aliens,” Lex whispered thoughtfully. “Professor, as long as the D84s are ready for the DARPA presentation, divert all other resources to Minuteman. Our politicians may believe that the greatest threat to our country comes from international terrorism, but we know better. We need our defences to be ready when the true enemies of humanity make their next attack.”
“Absolutely,” Rothman stared straight into Lex’s eyes. “So many would dismiss what we are doing here as based on paranoid delusions. To have the backing of someone who understands the truth is so important.”
“And you have all the resources that you need?”
“Further samples from your test subjects would be helpful. And our stock of meteor rocks will soon be exhausted.”
“I’ll speak to the relevant areas. What about your supply of raw material?”
“My source has been able to satisfy our needs so far. I don’t anticipate any problems in that area,” Rothman confirmed.
“Then I shall leave you to your work,” Lex replied. He started towards the door, then stopped, and added as an afterthought, “I will expect to be kept fully informed of progress though. So those updates that my private office demand, make sure you provide them.” So saying, he strode purposefully out of the room.
Rothman watched Lex leave. It amused him to think that Lex had bought that line about understanding the truth. What did they say in that movie? You can’t handle the truth! Well, of course he couldn’t. In his own way, he was even more stupid than Titan.
Titan, Titan! Rothman still could not believe the sheer ingratitude of the Dexosi. He had made an arrangement with the creature that was to their mutual benefit. Titan got to indulge his love of fighting, and Rothman obtained valuable information about his capabilities, as well as those of his opponents. Why Titan had to betray him like that was something that Rothman found incomprehensible. The creature was not born of the Earth, but he was here. As such, he had the same purpose as every other creature on this miserable planet – to serve Rothman’s grand design. Of course, Titan had paid the ultimate price for his betrayal, but that was only as it should be. It was curious that he had managed to fall on his own spike whilst apparently fighting a human female, but no matter. He had still made his contribution to the plan, and the plan was advancing.
Rothman looked around the room, noting each of the scientists as they worked.
I see dead people.
--------------------------------
End of Chapter 8
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