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.Reasonable men did not turn down Lex Luthor's requests—yet President Eisenhower had snubbed him.Who did the man think he was?With the observatory dome cracked open and his sixteen-inch refractor telescope pointed to the sky, Luthor continued his study of the empty, threatening heavens.The evening was chilly, and he tightened his smoking jacket of patterned silk lined with baby seal fur.He maneuvered the telescope into position.His personal calculations had provided tracking tables, so he knew exactly where and when the blip of Sputnik would cross the night sky.It was a fad these days for people to go outside with binoculars or little toy telescopes to search for the orbiting object.Each time the Soviet satellite crossed unchallenged over American airspace, Luthor considered it a provocation.He would keep watching the skies.Time and again, the Soviet space program had proven its superiority.At one time, Luthor had invested in the U.S.space effort, had studied the progress of the Vanguard project, had met personally with Wernher von Braun—but it all disappointed him.Vanguard was supposed to have beaten the Soviets into space, but it was now overdue and over budget.And so Luthor chose not to bother with such bumbling bureaucracy.He had decided to do something on his own, using his Caribbean island base….Now he peered into the eyepiece, adjusted the focus, and watched the stars in his field of view transform from fuzzy blobs into diamond sparkles.Sputnik would be along any moment now.Emergency alarms startled him out of his reverie.Automatic lights blazed on in the observatory, temporarily blinding him, but Luthor was already on his feet.He recognized the pitch of the sirens, knew the location of the clanging bells.This was no bumbling intruder at the outer fences; it was an inner-perimeter security breach.He snatched up the master Handie-Talkie and held the transmit button."Report!What's happened?""Intruder, Mr.Luthor," Bertram replied crisply." I know that! Have you caught him yet?""No, sir.We're making our way to your study now."Luthor was already bolting from the observatory, astonished that anyone would dare do this to him.Such a person would have to be suicidal."Make certain he's alive when you apprehend him—I may wish to do some of the questioning myself.No need to inform the police."He'd reached his office by the time the first security squads converged there, but the intruder had already fled.Luthor scanned his desk, saw that papers had been moved, noted the circle of glass cut out near the French door lock.A chair had been overturned, presumably as the burglar made his rapid escape.With sick dread, he jerked his head so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash.The lead box containing the green mineral from General Ceridov's quarry was gone.Astonishing—and baffling.How could any corporate spy have known about that? He dashed onto the balcony, spied the grappling hook still anchored on the balustrade.The entire property was bathed in searchlights.Shouts from the grounds now, then barking dogs.They would tear the man apart and probably leave little for interrogation…or even identification.Luthor suddenly caught sight of a shadowy figure in a dark cape—some sort of costume?—racing along, dodging nets and spotlights, leaping expertly over land mines and trip wires, easily maneuvering through the deadly obstacle course.Whoever this man was, this burglar, this spy, he knew Luthor's mansion and property down to the tiniest detail.An explosion sounded, accompanied by an eruption of dirt and smoke: One of his own guards had not been so adept at avoiding the land mines.Luthor made a disgusted sound; they could pick up the bloody pieces of the clod later."Hurry, he's getting away!"The intruder kept running.CHAPTER 21THE LUTHOR MANSIONKAL-EL FLEW OVER METROPOLIS, HIS RED CAPE FLUTTERING in the breeze.Below, he saw nighttime traffic lights and the winking glimmers of bright skyscraper windows, people attending shows, dining in restaurants, seeing motion pictures.Staring at the kaleidoscope of night life, he tried to imagine how magnificent Krypton must have been, how exotic, how spectacular.But Earth was his planet now, and these were his people.He needed to make sure that Lex Luthor did not pose a danger to them.Kal-El himself had seen clear evidence of LuthorCorp planes chasing the mysterious alien saucer.He wanted to look the man in the eye and ask him why.If he had tried to do so as Clark Kent, reporter for the Daily Planet, he would have gotten nowhere.As Superman, however, he could not be ignored.Kal-El streaked north beyond the city limits, up toward the Lake District.He skimmed pine forests interspersed with posh homes until he found the bright lights and incongruous modern architecture of Luthor's mansion.It was naive to think he could simply land on the man's balcony and talk with him, as he had done with Lois Lane.And he would not fly overhead and use his X-ray vision to spy on Luthor's private activities in his own home.By any measure, that would have been wrong.His parents had taught him better than that.As he approached, still trying to formulate a plan, he heard Luthor's household alarms and saw bright spotlights illuminating the grounds.With a quick scan, Kal-El watched guards responding to an emergency—a home invasion.Luthor was being robbed! Some intrepid burglar had broken through the industrialist's security and was now getting away.With his sharp vision he saw the shadowy shape of a man in a dark costume, cape, and mask.The caped figure expertly dodged booby traps, leaped over wire fences, and raced toward the perimeter of Luthor's property.The confused guards shouted and fired their guns at the uncertain target.Without hesitation, Kal-El swooped down.Jonathan Kent had taught him in no uncertain terms that the law was a safety net that applied to everyone, rich and poor alike.He had foiled many robberies and heists and would do so again, here on Luthor's property.Kal-El could stop this criminal and turn him in to the authorities, without anyone getting hurt.The law applies to everyone.He recognized the prowler's fearsome disguise from stories in the Gotham City papers: the Batman, a vigilante who had attacked the Gotham police and broken as many laws as the criminals he supposedly apprehended.Batman could have been a hero; he could have fought for the forces of good, but Kal-El was seeing him now for what he really was—no more than a petty criminal in a disguise.Kal-El had dealt with petty criminals before.He landed silently in front of Batman, assuming a wide-footed stance, fists on hips, cape fluttering."Stop!"Intent on eluding the guards behind him in the trees, Batman halted.His eyes narrowed behind the dark mask, but his response was not what Kal-El expected: "I knew you worked for LuthorCorp." He was holding something in one gauntlet, hidden by his cape.Kal-El frowned, not knowing what Batman was talking about."I do not work for Luthor.""Don't lie to me.And don't think you can stop me."With a flick of his other wrist, he flung a pointed Bat-shuriken, but the tiny throwing bat ricocheted off Kal-El's chest and fell to the ground.The sharp barbs did not penetrate his blue suit, nor did the tranquilizer toxin come into contact with his skin.Batman paused only a moment before the same hand let fly a bolo string, and the weights wrapped around Kal-El's arms and torso
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