Disclaimer: This is the first chapter in a story about an "other world" based on the Arrowverse, the CW shows that focus on DC superheroes. I am writing this as my way of paying homage to my fandom for the Arrowverse. The character names Supergirl, Green Arrow, The Flash, Canary and Brainiac are trademarks of DC Comics. These chapters are free to read, they will not be published in book format, nor will any revenue be generated from the chapters. If there are legal issues involved with the usage of these characters, please email me at bwmorris at mail dot com and I will cease with the writing. Critiquing of my writing is welcomed and may be left in the comments.
Sitting behind a desk is not what I wanted to do with my life. Though the view out the window might be nice, being stuck in an office at the top of a 15-story building keeps me removed from the rest of the world. Reading reports, approving transactions and listening to pitches from people who are only interested in making money, I find much of it to be boring.
But I discovered that, once in a while, you can learn something useful. In most of those cases, it's a great idea advanced by an employee who wants to do what's best for everyone. A few times, however, it's the unscrupulous, even illegal, dealings that the business world would rather be kept hidden. Those are the types of dealings that force me to take action.
Today, I have reason to believe I may learn more about some under-the-table dealings.
Because seated across from my large oak desk is none other than Warren Hosills, the founder of Frontier Labs. The bald man with the big build and eyeglasses never seems to lack this subtle smile on his lips. I'm not sure what prompted him to visit me today -- I wasn't expecting him, to be honest. What I had hoped was to visit Mark Gregory before he made his planned visit to Hub City, but he hasn't returned my messages.
Warren has been talking about how he thinks he's made a breakthrough regarding his artificial intelligence. I've spent most of my time nodding and leaning back in my leather chair. I have no interest in doing business with him. My philosophy has been that the best way to utilize technology is to improve the quality of life for everyone, particularly if it improves their health, and to make sure everyone has access to it. It explains why I've directed Mortensen Technologies to prioritize medical advancements.
But Warren has other ideas, as evidenced by his chatter. "So you see, Mr. Mortensen, the ability to identify a threat before it can do harm can be quite beneficial. After all, if you could protect civilians from a madman planning to harm them by just pushing a button, wouldn't you?"
I study Warren for a minute. He remains composed, but I wonder if he's hiding something. If he is, he's doing a good job keeping it from me.
"Nothing to say, Mr. Mortensen?" he asks.
I tap my finger on the arm of my chair. "Mr. Hosills, may I ask how you came to develop this technology? How are you able to produce something that can detect any threat before it can do harm?
He doesn't blink. "I'm afraid I can't discuss that, Mr. Mortensen, unless you are willing to do business with me. After all, a good businessman doesn't reveal too much until he knows he has a deal."
I place my hands back behind my head and stare at the ceiling. Most people I meet who have less-than-honest intentions give something away, but I'll admit that Warren is quite savvy. "Mr. Hosills, I'm afraid I can't commit to anything if I don't know more. Besides, I'm not sure I would call your suggestion the best approach to protecting civilians. I think others have better ideas for how to protect people without jumping to conclusions."
He clasps his hands in front of his face. "Jumping to conclusions, you say. You mean like a police officer who completes an investigation and determines that, yes, a bomb threat was legitimate and the instigator must be held accountable."
I lean forward. "That doesn't mean the police officer must push a button right away to eliminate the instigator." Before Warren can speak again, I hold up my hands. "Look, I understand that an officer is obligated to use force if physical harm has been committed against another human being. But the idea that you use force simply because someone has threatened physical harm -- or that you think someone will use it -- doesn't justify the immediate use of force."
HIs facial features remain composed. "You know the world has changed, Mr. Mortensen. Those who would wish to do harm, there is no line they won't cross."
I shake my head. Ironic that somebody like Warren would say that. From what I've gathered, he's crossed several lines on more than one occasion in pursuing his interests. "That doesn't mean I should act the same way." I rise from my seat. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hosills, but if you can't tell me more about this technology you've developed, I'm not interested in working with you."
Warren's expression doesn't change. Some might think somebody who is dead set in his approaches would get agitated, but he never does. Not that it makes him a better person, though. "I see." He gets to his feet and adjusts his glasses. "You know, I met your father on more than one occasion. The one thing I respected about him was that he knew that business meant sometimes making tough decisions."
I walk around my desk. "Yes, but when he did, he knew it was the right decision." I gesture toward the closed door. "I will see you out, Mr. Hosills."
Warren nods and we walk to the door. I open it for him -- Warren may not be my favorite person, but I believe in showing common courtesy to everyone, even to those who may not deserve it.
Outside the office is my receptionist's desk. She is shuffling through papers and I glance in her direction. "Excuse me, Jennifer, but I was checking to see if anyone from Mr. Gregory's office had called back yet."
Jennifer sets her papers aside and shakes her head. "I did call his office again today, Mr. Mortensen. Spoke to someone on his staff, who said he's busy, but he would get back with you."
How odd. I haven't spoken to Mark in about a year, but whenever I called him in the past, he would get back to me within a day. "Thank you, Jennifer." I turn my gaze to Warren. "You have a nice day, Mr. Hosills. I will have my receptionist show you back to the elevator."
Warren holds up his hand. "No need, I can find my way." He pulls his glasses down and casts his blue eyes at me. "You know, Mr. Mortensen, you sound a lot like Mr. Gregory. As he likes to put it, he's always looking out for the little guy."
I bite my lip. Somehow this man has found a way to talk to my old friend from college. Meanwhile, I can't get a call returned. I know I haven't kept touch with Mark as of late, but he's not the type to hold a grudge over that. "I guess that's what happens when you run in the same crowd in college."
He casts a cursory nod. "Of course."
When he turns to leave, he stops, because heading up the hallway are my sister Cissie and my friend Tara. Cissie wears a simple outfit, a blue blouse and skirt with a white belt. Tara is wearing a pink blouse and blue jeans -- though Cissie tried to get her into fancier attire, Tara found the casual wear more to her liking. Tara also wears glasses with thick, black rims. I know she didn't like the idea of wearing them, but I thought it was a good way for her to blend in and observe humanity.
Cissie has a small carrier that holds four insulated cups. There's enough of that pleasant scent of brewed coffee to relax me.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Cissie keeps a pleasant smile on her face. "Guess nobody can slip past you that easily, can they, Mr. Hosills?"
That subtle smile of his never changes. "Of course not, Miss Mortensen." He steps away from her and she makes her way past me, walking through the doorway to her office.
Tara stares at him, then at me. Almost like she's wondering why I haven't bothered to introduce her. I know she's been curious about the man who owns Frontier Labs, but I'm concerned she'll want to question him and I don't know how she will handle his evasivenes.
Warren gestures to her. "And you are?"
Her gaze goes back to him and she extends her hand. "My name is Tara." She's pronouncing the first syllable like "tehr" as I suggested to her. "Tara Binder."
He grasps her hand. "Pleasure to meet you." His head turns toward me. "Does she work for you?"
I shake my head. "No, she's my friend. She's visiting today."
He gives another cursory nod. "Of course." He glances at her. "Well, I won't keep you. I best be on my way." With that, he makes his way down the hallway and toward the elevator.
Tara's head turns toward me, her eyes widened. "You didn't tell me he was going to be here."
"I didn't expect him. He dropped by without an appointment and tried to sell me on his artificial intelligence idea."
"So what did he tell you?"
I sigh. "Not a lot. Mr. Hosills is pretty tight lipped."
Cissie has emerged from her office, two cups in her hand. "I imagine a business meeting with Hosills is one you would rather not have had." She places a cup in my hand, then passes the other to Tara. "For you, George, black coffee, and for Tara, cappuccino." She motions to Jennifer. "I have your coffee with extra cream and sugar waiting. I do need to talk to you for a minute, if I could."
Jennifer hasn't looked up from the papers she's filing. "I will be with you in a minute, Cissie." Jennifer and Cissie have been friends for a long time, so I don't find it unusual that Jennifer wouldn't acknowledge her directly.
I notice Tara giving me a look, like the explanation I gave her wasn't good enough. Reminds me of how my wife could be. "Tara, did you want to go talk for a few minutes?"
She nods. "Yes, that would be great."
Cissie steps through her office door and grins at Tara. "No, you're not the only one who gets the creeps when you're around Warren Hosills."
Tara manages a smile. My sister has a way of breaking the ice with anybody.
I chuckle. "It wasn't anything I couldn't handle."
Cissie winks at me. "Yes, just like everything else -- until you need to me to bail you out."
Jennifer looks up from her filing long enough to laugh. "Once in a while, I get that job."
"And I appreciate you both for the times you do that." I step through the doorway to my office. "But I will leave you two to debate who does that more often." I gesture to Tara. "Let's sit down and talk."
Tara follows me into my office and I shut the door behind me. I walk toward my desk and, when I make my way around the corner, I notice Tara standing there, a puzzled look on her face. "You told me you were good at getting information from those you have business dealings with."
I sit down in my leather chair. "Mr. Hosills would be different. He wanted me to agree to his terms before he would tell me more. I told him I needed to know more before I could commit to anything."
She takes a sip from her cup. "Wish you had been able to learn more. After all, every time I watch those news broadcasts, he talks about how this artificial intelligence would save lives and protect the planet."
"Yes, you've taken a lot of interest in it."
She nods. "It's because it sounds a lot like Brainiac."
I pull the edge of the lid up from my cup. A slight heat escapes. "Right, the artificial intelligence your people on Krypton developed. Do you think there's a connection?"
She walks toward my desk and places her cup on the corner. "If you had been able to get more out of him, we might know. But if not him, why not your friend, Mark Gregory?"
I push the lid back onto my cup, take a sip and sense a mild, caramel flavor. "What makes you think Mark would know anything?"
"Every news report says this Hosills person has tried to sell him on it."
I nod. "And I suspect Hosills is treating my friend the same -- he won't reveal much until he gets his backing."
She folds her arms. "Well, if you would get in touch with your friend -- or anybody in Washington, for that matter -- we might know more."
I take another sip of my coffee. "I've been trying to reach Mark for days and he hasn't returned a call yet. I can only guess he is busy preparing for his visit to Hub City."
She rolls her eyes. "You said he'd be able to help us. If he really was such a good friend, he'd return your call, wouldn't he? And if not, why not talk to somebody else? Surely somebody in Washington could help us."
Reaching over to a stack of coasters on my desk, I grab one, set it down, then place my cup on top. I take another one and stand up. "Look, I promised you that I would talk to Mark and I will. I've already made plans to go to Hub City tomorrow and I will bring you along. When we are there, we can pull him aside and talk with him then."
She casts a wary glance, like this response isn't good enough. "And are you going to insist I dress in something other than my cape?"
I take her cup from my desk, set a coaster where it was, then put the cup back. "I explained to you that you need to take it slow and have more personal interaction with other people."
Her eyes focus on my movements, like I shouldn't be touching her cup. "When I decided it was time to introduce myself to your world, I didn't plan on disguising myself as somebody else." She gestures to the glasses. "Wearing these, pronouncing my first name differently, taking another last name -- I don't understand why I have to have what you call a secret identity."
I remember having this conversation earlier. She was adamant that she wanted to make herself known to the world, that she was only here to protect the planet and make it better. It's a noble cause, one I can relate to not only as George Mortensen, but as the Green Arrow. But I know what problems would arise if everyone knew George Mortensen and the Green Arrow were one and the same. I don't want her to have to deal with that so soon after she ended her isolation and tries to find her place in this world.
I put my hand on her shoulder. "Look, as I told you, it's important that those of us who are heroes find ways to blend in with everyone else. For you, it's a way to learn more about human beings and how they behave. And for anyone who wants to be a superhero, it's a way to ensure you can have a life beyond just helping people."
I didn't really want to say that last line, because truth be told, being the Green Arrow is what I cherish the most about my life. That's the best explanation I can give, though. On top of that, it took time for people to accept the Green Arrow as a hero. Tara wanting to use her powers to help others is a wonderful thing, but if it took people a while to trust a guy who shoots trick arrows, I can only imagine how long it will take them to trust somebody with super strength and heat vision.
She brushes my hand away. "On my world, my family and I didn't hide ourselves. We took an active role in all matters on Krypton. When I saw you, I thought you were the same. Now I see you with this double identity. I'm wondering if I was wrong."
I shake my head. "It's not about hiding myself. It's about making sure that I don't let my work as the CEO of Mortensen Technologies interfere with my work as the Green Arrow."
Her eyes suggest doubt. It reminds me of my wife when she couldn't accept one of my explanations. Why does so much of Tara's interactions with me remind me of my relationship with my wife?
I want to reassure Tara. "Look, I will do everything I can to make sure that we get to talk to Mark. When we do, I will let you tell him everythng you wish to share and I'm sure he can figure out the best way to introduce you to the world. Okay?"
She is quiet for a minute. "All right, but I'm holding to you this. I spent three years in hiding. Now you have me hiding some more." Before I can respond, she holds up a hand. "And I know you call it hiding in plain sight. But I want the world to know more about me -- and soon."
I take a deep breath. "I understand."
We stare at each other for a while and I feel uneasy. Tara breaks the silence. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to talk to your sister. She's doing a lot to make me feel comfortable -- though she's already got me hooked on cappuccino and ice cream. Now she's eager to tell me everything about today's music."
I walk behind my desk. "Then I won't keep you waiting."
She grabs her cup. "And I'm sorry I forgot to grab a coaster." Her lips form a smile for a moment, before she turns on her heels and walks out the door.
I sit back in my chair and sip my coffee, wondering if I need to make another call to Mark. While I understand life gets in the way, it's not like him to ignore a call from a friend. Could something else be going on? If so, that's all more the reason to track him down in Hub City.
To be continued in Chapter 9.
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