“Your nanotechnology sounds a lot like magic.”
Lex took a moment to study the British reporter sitting across from him. If he had to guess, he would estimate the woman to be somewhere in her mid-to-late forties. Elaborate curls surrounded her oddly thick jawed face, yet the curls didn’t sway as she moved her head, almost as if she had polished off several cans of hairspray in order to achieve her retro look. Her outfit was a bright pale green, which would have been odd enough in and of itself, but it was also leather and trimmed with what appeared to be genuine fur. One hand held a steno pad, while the other held a pen that resembled a quill. Her hands were almost manly in appearance, except she had brightly painted two-inch fingernails that resembled scarlet talons.
While she gave the appearance of being interested in his answer, insincerity rolled off her in waves. He knew enough about reporters to know she had written her story before she ever walked into his office, but was going through the motions of talking to him so that she could sell the story as news as opposed to an opinion piece.
“Everything can be explained by science, Ms….”
“Skeeter. Rita Skeeter.”
Lex suppressed his chuckle, only because he had spent years dealing with the press and knew that smiling at an inopportune moment could cause a reporter to write an even more skewed story than they had originally intended. “Ms. Skeeter. While certain things may appear magical, they really aren’t. We simply lack the scientific knowledge to explain them. Think of how the cavemen must have felt when they realized that lightening caused fires. At first, they probably didn’t understand what fire was. Were the gods angry with them and trying to punish them or were the gods happy with them and were trying to give them a gift? Eventually they learned how to harness fire and use it to better their lives. They learned how to create it versus waiting around for storms.”
The reporter furrowed her brow and frowned.
“What would someone from the tenth century think of the planes that fly through our skies or the machines used to create roads? To them it would be magic. Not because it was, but because they lacked the capacity to understand the marvels in front of them.”
Skeeter tilted her head as if his answer had surprised her. “What an interesting muggle you are?”
“I beg your pardon?”
She shook herself then sat straighter in her seat, gracing him with a huge artificial smile. “Oh, don’t mind me. I just found your response fascinating. Please, do go on.”
As Lex continued to explain about LexCorp’s latest technological breakthrough, his eyes kept being drawn back to Skeeter’s pen. Was it his imagination or was it moving of its own accord?