Tag: lexcorp

League of Justice #2.3: “The Name of Action”

Unknown LexCorp Research Facility

Barry Allen lay on his cot, completely exhausted. For two weeks he had been systematically tortured by Lex Luthor’s barbarians of pain. He didn’t know where Luthor found people of such heinous, devious natures, but he was sure they were cryogenically preserved and reanimated ministers of the Spanish Inquisition.

“I’m so glad I didn’t go into the organic sciences.” Barry muttered to himself. “BIOLOGISTS ARE BASTARDS!” he shouted at the ceiling. “Human biologists must remove their heart during the first semester.” Barry was back to muttering. “WHAT, DIDJA RUN OUT OF STUFF TO POKE? YOU GREMLINS!” and back to shouting. All of this was for the benefit of whatever poor bastard drew the night shift. Barry found out early on that he was constantly being recorded, both sound and video. As his own little revenge plot he had begun taunting and verbally abusing the scientists who were watching.

“Oh! Pain!! My leg feels fuzzy. Now it smells green! It has the color of six!! Better check it out!!” After two weeks, he was beginning to crack. One thing was for sure, whatever psychologist they had evaluating him must be collecting data for the paper of his or her career.

In the objective, outside-Barry reality, he was being treated fairly well. He was given three nutritionally, and tastefully it must be admitted, prepared meals every day. He was made to exercise and perform a variety of physical and mental tasks. Most of that Barry would probably have performed anyway as to study himself in the wake of his accident. What he grew to hate were the constant blood draws and medical tests. MRI, PET, CAT, EEG, EKG, etc – he’d had all the acronyms and letters more times than he could count now. But even then, he was treated humanely and suffered very little physical discomfort.

Still, imprisonment is imprisonment. Tests without consent is abuse. Torture is torture.

He had tried pleading to speak with Lex Luthor, with anyone in charge, with anyone at all, but outside of his tests and questions about his feelings (mental and physical) he had talked with no one. Most of his responses were collected electronically by a computer that seemed to only run the medical testing software.

For two weeks this had lasted. In that time, the scientist part of Barry Allen continued to function. He knew that his physical responses had passed human athlete some time ago and were approaching the level of human extraordinary. His mind and his mental faculties now operated on a level somewhere beyond genius and at a speed never before seen. He could calculate large numbers in an instant, he had nearly perfect recall of everything back to his accident. His mind before the accident seemed flash frozen, he could remember no more or less about events and things before then than he could before. Knowledge gained before his accident was just as accessible now as then. But anything he had learned since, anything experience since, was recalled or remembered with perfect clarity and as quickly as if it had just been learned or experienced.

Emotionally, Barry was reacting just as one would expect. He was enduring, but with less and less patience as the imprisonment lasted.

It was in the beginning of his third week that Barry discovered just how much he had changed, just what exactly his accident had done to him, and just what the testing of the LexCorp scientists had unleashed.

He was running on a treadmill, breathing heavily, as he had been running for nearly twenty minutes. He had not slept well, and was more irritable and annoyed than usual. Every second that he ran his frustration mounted. Suddenly, he had more than he could handle. Out of sheer frustration, he yelled and ran as fast as he possibly could. It wasn’t very fast, but what happened next happened in a fraction of a fraction of an instant. There was a bright flash and Barry vanished. The wires that had been connected to his head and body simply fell to the floor, or dragged along the still moving conveyor belt of the treadmill.

From Barry’s perspective, he was running, and was very, very irritated. He was screaming to himself, mostly incoherently, and the only constant thought was “I must get free, I must get free, I must get free” he was repeating it like a mantra, one word for each footfall, pound-pound-pound-pound-I-must-get-free- when all of sudden everything flashed brightly and the lab vanished to be replaced by sandy hills and scrub brush and he was stumbling to a halt in the middle of a desert. There were no buildings in sight, no people, only bright, burning sun.

What the hell? he thought, as he started running up a small, sandy hill. What. The. He..flash. The desert vanished and he was in a dusty, dirty plywood city. More a film set, really. Wait…Barry recognized one of the buildings: Mos Espa? He was on….Tatooine?

Exactly four seconds later, Barry realized exactly where he was: the abandoned Star Wars sets in Tunisia, Africa. His frustration and irritation melted into total bewilderment.

“Dude, where did you come from?”

“Huh?” Barry turned around to see a group of overweight Americans. (They could only be from one country by their dress and accents.)

“Dude, you just appeared out of nowhere.”

“I, uh, I don’t know. Say, do you have any water?”

“Yeah, man, here.”

Barry drank the entire bottle that he was offered.

“Thanks. Uh, I need a ride to the nearest city. Any chance you could help? And anyone have a cell phone?”

Silence. Then: “Sure, dude, no problem. Back at the hotel. We were just about done for the day anyway. Come with me. Name’s Phil, by the way.”

“Allen. Barry Allen. Thanks, Phil.”

Phil helped him over the dusty white van that was waiting for them, a bored guide was sitting in the driver’s seat reading a newspaper. After Phil Opened the van door, Barry collapsed on one of the seats, totally exhausted, and immediately went to sleep.

He was shaken awake by Phil a few hours later. “Dude, we’re here.” Again Phil helped him out of the van and into the lobby of the hotel. It was a little rundown and threadbare, but it was serviceable. Thankfully Phil’s room was on the ground floor. Once inside, Barry collapsed on a bed, and again fell fast asleep.

League of Justice #1.9: “His Quietus Make”

Central City, Missouri

“Well, as far as I can tell, nothing is wrong with your vision. Perfect 20/20. As to why your vision suddenly got better and why your eyes changed color, I’m really sorry, but I can’t say.”

“Thanks, doc. I’m glad to know nothing’s wrong at any rate.”

“Well, there I can say: you are just fine.”

Barry Allen exited the ophthalmologist’s office reassured but still uneasy. It had been more than a week since his lightning accident, and he still didn’t have answers. And it wasn’t just his vision or his eye color that had changed. He was thinking quicker, moving quicker, everything about his life seemed faster somehow. And he couldn’t explain it. The best possible solution sounded like something out of a comic book: lightning combined with random chemicals, and charged heavy water mutated his cells. While such events weren’t unprecedented, usually death followed such mutations. As a rule, random mutations that were not evolutionarily based tended to be unhelpful. Cancer was a mutation. So were most genetic disorders. Mutation of things in the human body was usually a recipe for disaster. Somehow, Barry’s mutation was beneficial. Somehow, the lightning, the nature of the chemicals and his groundbreaking heavy water formula induced a quickening in Barry’s cells. He had noticed his metabolism was also getting faster. It was harder to get drunk, he was eating twice as much as normal and had lost extra fat around the edges.

Without a solid explanation and with a test group of exactly one, the only thing to do was to keep careful notes and go about his business. And business today was LexCorp. Lex Luthor’s mega-billion dollar corporation had research divisions into everything, and today’s research was heavy water. The experiment, despite the lightning, was still a success and Barry still had to present his results.

The LexCorp building was an smallish skyscraper, modest by Lex Luthor’s standards. The L-shaped Zephrymore Building in Metropolis that was world headquarters for LexCorp was head and top floors above all others, and would remain that way as Lex paid for a law to keep any other new construction shorter than a certain height. Barry shook his head and entered the lobby. How Lex built his buildings didn’t concern him as long as some subsidiary of Lex’s company paid for his research.

He walked up to the girl in the lobby, a Miss Lana Lang by her name tag.

“Hello, I am here for a briefing. Name’s Barry. Barry Allen.”

“Hello Mr. Allen. They are expecting you. Come with me.”

She led him to an-all glass elevator and up to a top floor. Off the elevator there was a glass walled room with a fantastic view of Central City. Also, there was a group of white coated scientists waiting around a conference table. Barry breathed deep. Lana noticed and flashed him a smile.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Half an hour later, Barry was unconscious.

An hour later…

Barry squinted into a super bright light. He couldn’t see anything else. He couldn’t hear much either. He tasted blood in his mouth and his head throbbed.

“Hello? What’s going on?”

Not expecting a reply, he was shocked to hear a kindly voice. It was being transmitted over some sort of communication system. More than that, Barry couldn’t tell.

“Hello, Mr. Allen. My name is Lex Luthor. I apologize for your treatment, but certain measures must be taken.”

“Wha..What is going on, sir? Didn’t you like my presentation on heavy water?”

Lex chuckled.

“It isn’t that, Mr. Allen. It is your remarkable accident that I am interested in. I read all about in the Central City Herald. Your girlfriend is such a…passionate…reporter when it comes to you.”

“You leave her alone!” Barry shouted, struggling against his restraints.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Allen. I have absolutely no interest in Ms. West, I assure you. I want you and your…abilities.”

“What? I can think fast, see better, and move quickly. You want that?”

“Of course, Mr. Allen. As your mind works quicker I am sure you can apply your abilities to say, a super soldier, or perhaps, an enhanced scientist, much like yourself, able to work much quicker towards a solution. Really, the possibilities are endless, and the applications limitless for a creature of enhanced speed. And to think, all this from a flash of lightning.”

“But I don’t know how it happened! I don’t understand it.”

“Oh, neither do I. But I do employ the best scientists in the world. Coupled with your research into your heavy water project and just a little cooperation, I am sure we will have the answer soon enough.”

“I’ll never help you!”

“Oh, but my dear Mr. Allen, you don’t have to, not willingly anyway. While you were unconscious my men took samples of your blood and tissues. We will keep you for observation and experimentation, of course. Your blood is only the beginning. And once we have our answers, we will let you go.”

Barry thought that unlikely.

“I think that is unlikely. I know who you are and I am not afraid to press charges.”

Again, Lex chuckled.

“Oh, but Mr. Allen. You are mistaken. It isn’t Lex Luthor who kidnapped you, not provably anyway. My voice can be faked, even my image, should you actually see me. No one you interact with will be identifiable. We are quite safe from your deluded ravings. Besides, I have a magnificent legal department. Last I heard you were quite penniless. Crime pays very well, Mr. Allen, and criminal lawyers are always worth the expense. No one cares about morality or even legality any more. The world is an economic world, and I have the only currency that matters: currency. Now, good night, Mr. Allen. You have a busy day ahead of you.”

With that, the lights snapped out, leaving Barry Allen in total darkness. He struggled, but uselessly.

“Well. This was an unexpected outcome of the briefing. And my mom wanted me to become a doctor.”

Quipping to the dark was meant to make it less threatening. It didn’t work.

League of Justice #1.1: “The Thousand Natural Shocks”

Central City, Missouri

Barry Allen hated running. He really, really hated running. As a young man he had been more interested in reading and school work, and as a result, never made time for athletics. The other kids on the playground used to love to race and run about, but the naturally slow Barry preferred to sit under the trees and work math problems. By the time he was a teenager, Barry had minted a catchphrase: “The quick of mind will always beat the fleet of feet.” It didn’t save him any harassment from the bullies, but it helped sooth his wounded feelings when his peers laughed at his discomfort.

As a young scientist, and PhD candidate, he was sometimes forced to run, especially when he overslept and was late for class. Again. Skidding to a halt inches in front of the large, glass doors that led into Garrick Hall, Barry stopped to take a few deep breathes. Garrick Hall was the main math and science building on the Midwestern University Campus. MU wasn’t as big as Metropolis University across Missouri in Kansas, but it was known for being a more intimate community of scholars. While every bit as prestigious, the “other” MU as Midwestern students called it, catered more to the rich and the famous and the upper class. Barry was a farmboy from Fallville, Iowa, and the smaller MU suited him perfectly.

Barry smoothed down his hair and absentmindedly tried to tuck in his shirt, but failed completely and completely failed to notice. Taking the steps two at a time, he scaled three flights of stairs, and walked down the empty hall to his classroom. He tried not to make eye contact with students in the other classrooms as he walked by. Finally he reached room 312 and opened the door as quietly as he could. He slipped into the back row of chairs and sat down.

The class was some variant of Organic Chemistry, and while Barry half listened to the lecture in progress, his mind worked an entirely different problem. Barry was currently obsessed with a new method to produce heavy water that would take half the time and a fraction of the energy currently needed to produce the coolant for nuclear reactors. He had been conducting an experiment all night, which is why he had slept late for class. He felt he was close to a breakthrough.

Later that night…

A bluish flame burned atop a chemical burner, and a cauldron-like flask bubbled. Elsewhere on the lab table, chemicals oozed through pipes or gradually mixed into compounds. Barry Allen was hunched over a laptop entering a large amount of data and simultaneously monitoring his experiments. He doubled checked some results, and toiled over a maintenance program on his supercomputer mainframe that was running a simulation. If he didn’t get the results he was looking for, he would be in serious trouble. He had procured a grant from the prestigious Wayne Foundation for the Sciences, but one thing foundations that granted grants wanted were publishable results. Without them it was hard to secure funding from their wealthy donors. None of that would matter, however, if Barry did succeed. He had secured a conditional contract for use of his formula from LexCorp, the industrial giant run by businessman Lex Luthor. Conditional meaning on the condition that his heavy water synthesis method was useful in some way. Luthor paid well, but only for working prototypes and applications. Otherwise he would blackball a scientist into oblivion. That was the danger of working for Lex Luthor: rich if you made it, forgotten if you didn’t. But Allen was running out of options to continue his education and fund his research, and couldn’t afford to turn down funding, no matter how shady the source.

Outside Allen’s lab, a heavy rain had begun to fall and in the distance, thunder rolled ominously. Barry barely heard it. He rushed from one side of his bench to another. Grabbing some large rubber gloves he grabbed some forceps and carefully lifted a test tube half full with green liquid. He slowly poured it into a flask that contained a purple powder, and ever so gently swirled the two substances together until they mixed. He turned to check the bubbling cauldron and noted the temperature on the attached gauge. Just a few more seconds. He set the flask down and removed his gloves. He pulled a tattered notebook from his pocket and opened to the first blank page. He scribbled a few notes before putting it down. Consulting the thermometer again, he saw that the liquid had reached the desired temperature. He picked up the flask, and stepped up onto a stool next to the lab bench. From here he was able to peer through the steam and into the cauldron. Taking care not to spill or splash, Barry poured his mixture into the boiling liquid. Instantly a thin stream of blue steam lifted into the air, but Barry ignored it. This was expected. What came next was entirely unexpected.

A loud crack of thunder shook the entire lab. From the corner of his eye, Barry saw a bolt of lightning descend from the dark clouds and arc towards the skylight in the lab. Everything afterwards seemed to take place in slow motion:

The lightning jumped to the skylight’s metal frame, shattering the glass. Barry hunched his shoulders and ducked his head against the rain and descending shards. From the frame, the lightning leaped to the top of the chemistry apparatus. It immediately spread throughout every metal frame and connection. It arced through the air, exploding the Bunsen burner and instantly boiling the liquid and the mixture therein. Barry felt a pricking in his thumbs and every hair on his body stood on end and repelled each other. A second and a third flash of lightning hit the exact same point on his set-up and this time shot right through his body. The flask he was holding shattered and for a nanosecond, the mixture within seemed to coalesce into a single point before expanding rapidly in every direction. Barry simultaneously inhaled the gaseous mixture, swallowed what was left of the liquid form, and felt the substance splash onto his skin, leaching into several slashes made by falling glass. A fourth bolt of lightning struck and with a loud bang everything went dark after a final eye searing flash.