Date:  December 17th, 2001

Time:  8:05 PM

Place:  Metropolis, undisclosed place

 

Dear Diary,

 

            I knew Luthor wasn’t done.  If he knew I was Kara, he would be.  But he just couldn’t stop.  When I delivered the trilo, he was in his office as he said he would be, at 7 AM.  I had managed to chain into a make-shift costume (‘S’ shirt, matching pants) so no one would see my other costume and I stored that one where I am now.  Luthor was satisfied, but his body language told me he wanted more from me.

            “One more thing, and I’ll give you the antidote.”

            Heh.

            “And that would be…?”

            Now, mind you, this was after a VERY dramatic and emotional “meeting” with Justin Grey.  I don’t want to get into details right now because it was too shocking and heartbreaking and I’ll just start crying again.  The only reason I’m writing better is because my hypothesis is right.  Taking more of that… that… main drug I was given… makes the effects go away.  So I stole Kon’s dosages (that kid needs to be killed for having it!) and I’m taking them until my mission is over.

            “Here, I want you to READ the details to this.”

            He slid a manilla folder across his marble desk to me.  I took it, opened it and began to read it.  It made sense what the proposition was, but I was NOT going to do it.

            “Uhm, no, I don’t think so.  NO WAY.”

            “Then you don’t get the cure.”

            “Wha--?”

            “You see…  I never work unless I have… everything I want.”

            “This is inane—“

            “And if you try to “tattle” on me, Supergirl…  Well, lets just say I pay attention to your exploits.  Rumor has it you’re *very* close to the Green Lantern man in New York…  It would be a shame to dispel of such a person.”

            That did it.

            “Fine.  When?”

            “Tonight.”

            “This is the LAST thing, yes?”

            “Absolute LAST.  I’m sure you can understand the reasoning.”

            “Don’t talk to me.”

            So I left, folder and all.  Sad thing is… I do understand the reasoning.

            Let me explain.

            Luthor handed me the floor plans to a Gotham technical HQ.  The same HQ that keeps communication between Gotham and their satellites.  And the orders in the folder?  Infect the systems with a impregnable virus.  I can do that.  I have about a hundred viruses that no earthling, and Clark, has ever experienced before.  With the simple click of a button, I can unleash a virus that would wipe out the entire world’s technology in exactly .25 seconds.  Luthor wants me to take out Gotham’s satellites on the stakes of both my antidote and Kyle’s life?  Then that’s what I’ll do.

            (Believe me diary, if I didn’t know Luthor’s capabilities, I wouldn’t take Luthor serious… but he wouldn’t make the threat if he couldn’t do it.)

            Now, the reason I understand it is because of “Metropolitan Patriotism”.  That’s a term Lois Lane started and it sort of… stuck.  Metropolis is the most technologically advanced city in the world.  But Gotham and Hong Kong are close second and third.  Gotham’s approaching fast to number one with Metropolis.  Metropolitans hate that.  They’ve been looking to Luthor to do something about it, since he’s practically the head of the city in power…

           

            In the right breast pocket of my suit is a disk.  Within that disk contains a Brainiac virus.  Not only will it completely crash ground-to-space communications, it’ll cause the satellites to go apeshit and then explode.  In my back pocket is the bottle of that crap I took from Kon (Memo to Self:  Report Kid to Harper—wait, scratch that, suspicion will arise).  I have another mask, since Bruce took mine, and new sunglasses that I managed to bring in the small bag of stuff that belonged to me on Argos.  They’re plated solid silver, but you can see through them.  They were designed for the abuse I tried to put Kon’s glasses through technologically, but they weren’t nearly as good.  Instead of giving me a bird’s eye view of the floor map, it’ll go with me as I “crusade” the building, giving me directions in *MY* language on where to go.  Which is nice, since only Clark has a vague idea on how to read it.

            I haven’t been anywhere near a home of mine since yesterday afternoon.  The last friendly face I’ve seen was Justin’s… god, Justin… he… it’s hard to even think about… can’t think about it, not when you need to plan, Kara.

            Bruce might decode the virus.  Realize it’s a Brainiac virus.  He’ll call Clark and ask if Brainiac’s back.  Clark will say no.  Bruce will ask if Clark owns a Brainiac virus.  Clark will say yes.  Bruce will ask if he’s seen me.  Clark will say not since last night when Justin Grey tried to kill himself.  Bruce will ask if we’re still together.  Clark will say “I assume not, Justin’s been by once or twice” (he was because I was spying).  And Bruce will know.  Bruce will know and he’ll hate me.  But it’s a matter of my survival and Kyle’s, and I can’t sell Luthor out.  His cases cost up to ten million dollars when he’s dragged to court, ten million that could be used to feed the hungry on special programs.  And if I do, it’ll cause a scandal…

            This is going to ruin my friendships with everyone, and my relationship with Kyle…  But I HAVE to do it.

 

§Kara§

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