Clara Kent Superwoman

Chapter 23: The Gala - Part 1

Bruce Wayne sat in front of the computer, sifting through the guest list for tonight's Gala. Luthor, Queen, Teague, big names with big secrets, and even bigger grudges against one another. He'd researched them all, knew their demons and their weaknesses, the skeletons in the closets. He'd get to them eventually. Then there were the unknowns, like Clara Kent, granddaughter of William Clark. Clark checked out, well known lawyer, straight and narrow, a Shark of the corporate and criminal courts. He was coming in the stead of Dr Virgil Swann, a brilliant mind, to close the JL Satellite deal with Wayne Enterprises. Swann had a peculiar interest in the extra-terrestrial, and Bruce had an interest in his technology.

Clara Kent seemed simple enough on the surface, a few key taps and there were her transcripts and her school records. Model student, reporter for the school paper, extra-curricular charity work and she baked pies for farmer's markets. Then there was her connection to Lex Luthor, a mysterious rescue from a sinking car, caved metal, and to Teague, she literally pulled him out of the fire twice. Yet, no hospital records, no sick days, and adoption papers made by a Luthor Corp subsidiary. No paperwork for her birth parents, no trail, she just appeared into existence at age 3, a few weeks after the Kansas Meteor Shower.

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth

Kent, Luthor, Queen and Teague.

The Great Detective, The Dark Knight, had a busy time ahead of him.

Alfred walked down the steps into the cave, closely followed by Rick Grayson.

"Your tux is ready upstairs Master Wayne. I trust you won't be needing a change of attire tonight?"

"Thank you Alfred. The standby suit is already in the Museum, so I can patrol after the Gala ends. Rick, I'm afraid you'll be missing the party. Nightwing will be having his first flight tonight. Stay close to the Museum, I have a feeling we'll have trouble."

The black haired teenager's eyes widened in delight.

"Really Bruce?"

"You've earned it. I'm trusting you to take this seriously."

"I won't let you down!"

"Just stay professional, and we won't rename you "Robin"."

...

Gotham at night, through the windows of the hired car, looked far more sinister than Metropolis. It was as if it was awash with sickness, as they passed by alleys filled with gangs, Police officers taking bribes, and the screams of victims, the wailing of sirens. William Clark didn't hear any of this, he was focused on his Blackberry, but after night fell, Clara could. There seemed to be so much pain here, but she couldn't do anything about it. But as she saw the bat projected into the sky, she knew someone else was.

This wasn't her city, it was Batman's domain.

The Gotham Museum, lit up in its faux-Greek glory, was a stark contrast to the sinister cramped spaces of the urban landscape. The area was surrounded by lush gardens, and a perimeter wall of white stone to separate it from the rest of the city. Security swarmed the building, with spotlights, armed guards, and a red carpet surrounded by barriers separating the press and public from the celebrities and VIP's as they exited their cars. Clara had never seen such a frenzied clamour of flashes and shouts. Was this what happened to Lex every time he went to an event like this? She felt very out of place, like an imposter.