Free Enemies & Allies by Kevin J. Anderson Page B

dress, perhaps her best, the one reserved for temple on Saturdays. Her voice was gruff, no-nonsense. “Are you Lois Lane?”
    “Yes, I am. I’m the one who can get your story told, Mrs. Rosen.”
    Blanche nodded. “It’s not only my story. There’s a lot of women and men just like me from LuthorCorp, but most of them aren’t alive anymore.”
    Lois was shocked. “Are you saying Lex Luthor killed them?”
    “In a manner of speaking. Hazardous duty, no safety procedures or equipment, harmful radiation exposures…‘Caribbean vacations.’ I’m one of the last few left, mainly because I’m a tough old bird.”
    Lois took out her notepad, her expression intent. “I’m all ears, Mrs. Rosen.”
    The waitress came over. Both women ordered coffee, but Blanche also asked for a pastrami sandwich and potato chips. With only the briefest hesitation, she added, “And wrap up a second one to go.” She clung to her pride as she looked across the booth at Lois. “You don’t mind, do you, newsgirl?”
    “A girl’s gotta eat.” Lois felt a tug at her heartstrings. “But you have to sing for your supper.”
    Blanche looked around the diner, studying the other customers. She lowered her voice. “How do I know you’re not in Luthor’s pocket?”
    Lois let out a laugh. “That’s not an image I want to think about. My journalistic credentials should speak for themselves.” She leaned across the table. “Frankly, Mrs. Rosen, Lex Luthor makes my skin crawl. I’ve been face-to-face with him. I’ve seen him smile. Ever see a snake smile? There’s nothing behind it. Nothing. ”
    Blanche slurped her coffee and heaved a long sigh. “The things I’ve seen, Miss Lane. LuthorCorp and their munitions factories, the military bases, the test flights, black programs that don’t show up on any official paperwork. I had a security clearance, and I performed the most delicate work…and now look at me. Crumpled up and discarded like a chewing gum wrapper—practically living on the streets, without a job, without a pension, my husband’s death benefits almost gone. It’s a damn shame, I tell you. Forget what Senator McCarthy rails about— this is un-American! This is not what my family left Germany for.”
    Blanche paused to take a large bite of her pastrami sandwich as soon as it arrived. Lois stole a potato chip and pressed for more information. “What kind of work did you do, exactly? And what’s this about a ‘Caribbean vacation’?”
    “Reactor assembly. Luthor has his own island, complete with a small atomic power reactor.”
    Lois began scribbling in shorthand as quickly as possible. “Is that where he works on his secret projects for the government?”
    “Miss Lane, the government doesn’t know half of what Luthor does. That uncharted island is a test bed for some of his most dangerous technology. Once Luthor’s weapons systems function, he’ll sell them to the U.S. military for ten times his investment.”
    “So how did you get involved?”
    “He invited some of his employees to help build facilities there and do the technical work. He hired Cuban locals to do the heavy construction of remodeling an old fort into a new base. Many of those men and women were just like me, divorced people and widows living on a shoestring without much to keep us here in Metropolis. When we got the offer to spend a few months in the Caribbean, who were we to complain? At the time, it didn’t occur to us that we were the employees Luthor considered the most expendable…the ones who wouldn’t be missed.”
    Lois nodded, letting the woman continue.
    “But then they started getting sick. The Cuban work crews left, and we didn’t see them again. I heard something about their boat sinking in open water, all souls lost. On the island, those poor men and women in charge of installing reactor fuel rods and coolant systems fell terribly ill, and Luthor—such a generous man!—took them to his own hospitals back on the mainland. He