“Unbelievable!”

A deep sigh escaped Clark Kent’s lips. He stood in line at a hot dog stand, with only one person between him and his lunch. The voice behind him belonged to Lois Lane, a fellow reporter at the Daily Planet.

“Trouble, Lois?” he asked.

The man in front of him got his hot dog and left. Clark stepped up and the vendor addressed him. “What’ll ya have?”

“Give me one with ketchup and mustard,” he said.

“Just crazy, is what it is!” Lois continued to go on. Clark glanced over his shoulder and saw she had her smartphone in hand and was reading something. He could spot the logo for the Daily Star at the top of the screen.

“Checking out the competition?” he asked.

“That robbery at the Commerce Bank,” she continued. “The Superman was there!”

“You want any onions or relish?” asked the vendor.

Clark smiled. “No, thank you.” A realization hit him. “Oh, do you have any corn?”

The vendor furrowed his brow. “Corn? On a hot dog?”

“He just barged right in and took down the robbers in under ten minutes!” said Lois. “Ten minutes, Smallville!”

Clark ignored his persistent co-worker. “The restaurants in my hometown had corn on hot dogs.”

“Well, this ain’t yer hometown, this is Metropolis,” said the vendor. “Three fifty.”

“Really? That much?” asked Clark, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

“Like I said, this ain’t yer hometown,” the vendor repeated.

Clark fished four dollars out of his wallet and handed them over. “Keep the change.”

“Gee, guess I’ll just close up early.” The vendor handed Clark his hot dog and he smiled, stepping out of line while Lois followed him.

“I can’t believe I missed it!” said Lois.

“Where were you?” asked Clark.

“STAR Labs, trying to get the low-down on what this Superman guy is,” she said. “Why, were you there?”

Clark had the hot dog raised to his mouth and was about to take a bite. He sighed and lowered it. “No, I missed it. I was doing some follow-up on my Hob’s Bay story.”

Lois scoffed. “We’ve got a guy flying around—literally—in tights and a cape, and you’re more concerned about some dive bar in Suicide Slum?”

“Mr. Bibbowski’s a good man, he doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment,” said Clark.

“Whatever, hayseed.” Lois turned off her phone and dropped it in her purse. She took the hot dog out of Clark’s hand and started to bite into it. “Oh, thanks! I’ve been running around all day, didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast this morning.”

Clark was still staring at his now-empty hand, blinking. “…Don’t mention it.” He looked back at the hot dog vendor and saw that the line had quickly piled up. “So what did you find out at STAR Labs?”

“Not a whole lot,” said Lois, her mouth full as she paused between chews. “They’re pretty much stumped. All they know is that Superman has been the first in a surge of these…these metahumans. They’re popping up all over the country—all over the world!”

Lois gobbled down the rest of the hot dog and handed the wrapper and napkin to Clark. He groaned, dropping them in the closest garbage can. “But you won’t even believe what else I found out?”

“What’s that?” asked Clark.

“Professor Hamilton, the scientist I spoke to? He said Lex Luthor has also been asking questions about Superman!” said Lois. “He was there at LexTower when Superman stopped the protestors from getting roughed up. Luthor brought him in to find out what this Superman is.”

Clark paused. “What did he say?”

Lois shrugged. “Not much. Apparently Luthor’s an amateur scientist, so he thinks it was just academic.”

“But you don’t think so.”

She scoffed. “Don’t be so naive, Smallville. LexCorp has a lot of contracts with the Defense Department. Highly classified stuff.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because my dad works for the Pentagon,” she said. “He won’t go into specifics—non-disclosure agreements, security clearance, all that fun stuff—but he’s spent more than one Thanksgiving dinner bitching about having to deal with Luthor.”

“But what does any of this have to do with Superman?” asked Clark. Lex Luthor sniffing around his double identity started to make him nervous. He wasn’t known as one of the smartest men on the planet for nothing.

Lois spun on her heel and faced Clark. He reacted quick, nearly stumbling to avoid running into her. “That’s the Pulitzer-winning question. If a war profiteer like Luthor is looking for Superman, it’s probably because he’s looking for a way to either destroy or control him.”

“Lois, that’s pure speculation, you need facts before you can start writing a story about that,” said Clark.

“Well, duh! Do I look like I work for the Post? Luthor’s got somethin’ up his sleeve, I’m sure of it. Now if only I could find a way to confirm it. After all, it’s not like he’s gonna come up to me on the street and ask for—”

Lois was cut off by a honking horn. She turned and saw that a limousine had pulled up to the curb. The driver was a tall, slender woman wearing a dark chauffeur’s uniform, complete with a cap and sunglasses. Her hands were covered by black, leather gloves.

“Mr. Kent, I presume?” she asked.

Clark blinked a few times and glanced down at Lois. “Umm…yeah, that’s me. Who—”

“Mercy Graves,” she said. “Mr. Luthor would like to have a word with you. In private.”

“Lex wants to speak to me?” asked Clark.

Lois, for once in her life, was stunned into silence. Mercy cleared her throat and opened the back door.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Kent. Mr. Luthor is waiting for you at his office,” she said. “And he can’t abide tardiness.”

“Yeah, guess we can’t let that happen…” Clark walked up to the door and glanced back at Lois. She was still staring, wide-eyed and in shock, and all Clark could do was muster a tiny smile before he climbed into the back of the limousine. Mercy closed the door behind him and tipped her hat to Lois.

“Ms. Lane,” she said, before getting into the driver’s seat and driving off.

TERROR OF THE TOYMAN

Part I

By Dino Pollard

LexTower

The office of Lex Luthor was large, with far more empty space than necessary. The window facing out extended the full length of the office, from floor to ceiling, and opened to a balcony, which was where he stood now.

He kept a vigilant eye on the clouds, searching for some trace of his latest curiosity. Others like him had appeared shortly after he turned up, but none could match his sheer power. And his actions were mystifying. First he rescued those protestors from LexCorp’s private security force, but then he stopped the robbery at the Commerce Bank of Metropolis.

What was he fighting for? These were the questions that kept Lex Luthor out on his balcony for hours on end, trying to make sense. Why would a being of such awe-inspiring power not assert it over the rest of the world? Or was he simply waiting?

“Mr. Luthor.”

Lex left the balcony and entered his office. He walked around to the front of his wide desk, which was clear of any clutter on its wooden surface. Lex clasped his hands behind his back and his face remained stoic as Mercy entered with his guest.

“Clark Kent, of the Daily Planet,” she said.

“Thank you, Mercy. That will be all for now,” said Lex. “See to it that I’m not disturbed.”

Mercy gave a slight bow and exited, closing the double-doors behind her. Clark slowly walked closer to Lex, the distance separating them like a massive gulf. Lex’s expression looked to be carved in stone, not changing the slightest.

“Hello, Lex,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

Lex’s frown slowly curved, becoming a smile and some spark returned to his ice-cold eyes. “Clark Kent, as I live and breathe.” He patted the reporter on the arm with one hand and offered the other as a handshake.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief and accepted the handshake. “You had me worried for a second there, Lex. I was starting to wonder if my old friend from Smallville had been replaced by a pod person.”

Lex chuckled. “I apologize for that. It’s all a matter of appearances, you see. I have a certain image to maintain.” He motioned toward the two chairs in front of his desk and Clark sat in one of them. “Would you like a drink?”

“Oh…I dunno about that. Kind of early, isn’t it?” asked Clark.

Lex smirked in the process of walking to a corner of the office. “Of course, I almost forgot who I’m talking to.” A small switch was hit and a portion of the wall extended outward, revealing a small minibar. Lex took a carafe of scotch and poured a little into a tumbler. “Clark Kent—in bed by ten, never smokes, never drinks before six, and passes out after two beers.”

Clark gave a nervous snicker. “Never gonna live that down, am I?”

Lex walked back over to the desk, but rather than sitting behind it, he sat in the chair beside Clark, and the two men turned to face each other. “It was one of the worst twenty-first birthday parties I’d ever been to.” He sipped his drink. “I understand you’ve been busy since college.”

Clark nodded. “Had the opportunity to do some traveling, reporting on different parts of the world.”

“How’s the family?”

Clark glanced down. “Dad…passed away. Been a few years now.”

“I’m…I’m sorry.” Lex’s face appeared as if he genuinely was. “I know he wasn’t always my biggest fan, but…”

“It’s okay. Mom’s doing good. She’s still got the store, but these days she’s more or less retired. Lana mostly runs it now.”

“Lana,” said Lex with a smile. “You two still together?”

Clark nodded. “What about you? I was a little surprised to come to Metropolis and discover that LuthorCorp was now LexCorp.”

“Ahh yes, funny story, actually,” said Lex. “When dear old dad died, he left me precisely nothing. And so instead, it was up to me to build myself up. Fortunately, I’d begun that years before, making smart investments, and then reaping the rewards. So although LuthorCorp was taken over by my father’s advisors, I eventually managed to outpace their success and I bought the company in a hostile takeover, right out from under them.”

“And now you’re doing defense work?”

“I see you really are a reporter,” said Lex. “I have a number of contracts with the United States government, but I cannot say much more than that, I’m afraid.”

Clark nodded. “So…why did you want to see me? If you just wanted to catch up, we could have done that in a less drastic fashion.”

Lex sighed and took another sip of the scotch. “Clark, I know about your investigation into Casey Griggs’ properties in Hob’s Bay.”

Clark tried to mask his sense of relief. After what Lois told him about Lex’s interest in Superman and the sudden impromptu call, Clark was certain Lex had figured out his secret. Although now he wondered why Lex would care at all about a scumbag like Griggs. “What about it?”

“I’d advise you to tread carefully,” said Lex. “Hob’s Bay got the nickname Suicide Slum because to interfere with the people running that part of town is suicidal. Griggs is a dangerous man, not someone you should take lightly.”

“I appreciate the concern, Lex,” said Clark as he adjusted his glasses. “But I think you might be a bit paranoid.”

Lex stood, setting his glass on the desk as he did. “Come here.” He walked over to the large windows and opened the door to the spacious balcony. Clark wasn’t sure what Lex was getting at, but he stood and followed his old friend out to the balcony nonetheless. Lex gestured to the Metropolis skyline.

“This is the greatest city on the face of the planet, Clark. Just look at how magnificent she is.”

Clark couldn’t argue with the beauty of the skyline. Modern towers that stretched out as far as the eye could see, kissing the sky with their spires, the warm afternoon sun reflecting off the window panes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand what all this has to do with Griggs and Hob’s Bay,” said Clark.

“Every city has a dark side,” said Lex. “For some, like Gotham, it’s obvious. On full display. But even in the so-called City of Tomorrow, there are things hidden in the shadows. When you look at Metropolis, all you see is the skyline. The beauty and the magnificence. You don’t see what lurks underneath.”

Clark tried to concentrate on what Lex was telling him, but there was another sound off in the distance that his super-hearing was picking up. A kind of buzzing.

“I tell you this as a friend, Clark: if you keep digging, you may not like what you find,” said Lex. “And you may not ever come out of the hole.”

Lex’s words were growing more and more distant as Clark tried to divide his attention between the man’s speech and the strange buzzing noise. It wasn’t natural, whatever it was. It sounded mechanical to Clark’s ear. His hand reached for his glasses and he nudged them down his nose just slightly, focusing his incredible eyesight on where his ear told him the sound was coming from. Clark’s telescopic vision zoomed in on it, and now he could see where the buzzing was.

What he saw was some sort of aircraft. Although tiny. And brightly-colored. It was a miniature bi-plane with a propellor on the front, as if it were a child’s toy. And then there was something else mounted on the wings. Clark realized what they were and jumped into action, grabbing Lex and pulling him to the ground just as the small plane opened fire with the tiny machine guns under its wings.

“What was that?” asked Lex.

“I—I don’t know.” Clark was lying in part—he had seen what it was, but he didn’t quite know how to explain it. But even telling Lex that he was able to get such a good look at it might raise the man’s suspicions.

“I’m calling my security force.” Lex went into his jacket pocket for his cell phone.

The buzzing grew louder as the toy plane made another pass. With Lex’s attention focused on the phone, Clark took a chance and scanned for the plane. He located it and tipped his glasses down the bridge of his nose once more. Clark’s bright blue eyes turned into a glowing shade of red and he focused his eyesight on the plane. A spark and then the toy burst into flames, crashing down on the balcony.

Lex’s attention was drawn to the mangled device, and his look of confusion turned to Clark. “What happened?”

Clark shrugged. “You were always the smart one, you tell me.”

Lex went over to the device and examined it without touching. “Malfunction, perhaps. Or maybe an incendiary device. I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine it properly.”

“Lex…”

Lex looked up and saw Clark standing on the balcony, looking out into the sky. He rose as well, and saw what his friend saw. That first plane was just a scout. Now they were faced with an entire fleet, all bearing down on them at once.

“Inside!” shouted Lex, and he grabbed Clark’s arm and pulled him back into the office. The miniature guns exploded in a hail of bullets, shattering the windows just as Lex and Clark took cover behind the massive desk.

Lex brought his phone to his ear. “Where the hell is security?” he barked into the device.

Clark stayed pressed against the desk, trying to evaluate the situation. If he jumped into action right now, he would have compromised his identity. There were too many of the things to take them out secretly, plus no way Lex would accept that all of them coincidentally failed like that. No, he had to find another way out.

“We should make a run for it,” said Clark. “Try and get to the hall.”

“Are you insane?” asked Lex. “Those things will cut us down before we’ve gotten within a few feet!”

“And if we stay behind this desk, we’re dead for sure!” said Clark. “We don’t have a whole lot of options here.”

“Okay,” said Lex. “On three. One…Two…Three!”

The two men sprang from the desk and raced for the door. Once they reached it, however, something kicked it in and Clark pushed Lex to the side so they wouldn’t be hit as the door flew off its hinges. Standing on the doorway was a kangaroo wearing boxing gloves. Clark could hear the servos whirring, meaning it was definitely a robot.

“What the hell is going on?” asked Lex.

“I wish I knew,” said Clark.

The kangaroo advanced on them and threw a right-cross at Lex, delivering enough force to throw him off his feet. Clark looked over and saw Lex hunched over, trying to stand back up. And, most importantly, he wasn’t watching, so Clark took the moment to unleash a powerful breath that sent the robot kangaroo flying. Clark immediately went to Lex’s side and helped him to his feet.

“Clark, what—?”

“No time to talk, Lex. Let’s just get out of here before something else happens!”

Unfortunately, something else is exactly what happened. One of the toy planes flew overhead and a compartment on its underside opened. Several small spheres that resembled gumballs fell onto the ground. Once they did, they exploded, coating the air in a thick, green fog.

Lex was the first to go down, succumbing to the gas. Clark tried his best to fight it, but despite his alien physiology, the gas had an effect on him, too. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy and his movements sluggish. Within moments, Clark had also passed out on the ground.

“Clark! Clark!”

“Hmm…?”

Clark stirred away, slowly raising his eyelids. What he saw was the last thing he expected. Both he and Lex were seated on what resembled bean bag chairs. Clark tried to move, but found there was some kind of adhesive on the chairs that kept them sealed in place. It was Lex’s voice that awakened him, and though Clark could pull himself free, he had to keep up the pretense that he was just as helpless.

The room was large and multicolored, almost like an indoor playground. Toys were scattered around the ground—stuffed animals, action figures, little green soldiers, dolls, various vehicles, and colored balls of all shapes and sizes. Not far off was in fact a tiny playground, with monkey bars that led up to a platform attached to a twisting, orange tube slide. The slide led into a ball pit. Clark’s vision was still groggy, but he could see someone at the top of the slide. A child, maybe?

Whoever it was, he went into the slide and Clark heard him going down it, and a childlike “wheee!” echoed from inside that tube. There was something…off about the voice, however. The figure crashed into the ball pit and them emerged and for the first time, Clark saw his face.

The child, or child-sized person, walked towards them, dressed in a button-down shirt and sweater vest with khakis. Most twisted of all, however, was his head. It was disproportional to his body and was some type of plastic mask with a glossy finish. The mask was that of a little boy with molded brown hair frozen in place, huge blue eyes, red dots on the cheeks, and what would have normally been a comically large smile. But in this instance, and with the voice that came forth, it had a much more chilling effect.

“I’m so glad naptime’s over,” he said, his high-pitched voice an echo inside that mask. “Now we get to play!”

To be continued…