Metropolis, 2010 cont'd
Thanks Miray! Here's a new chapter!
Gold Wing and a Prayer Guest Starring: Nightwing and Batgirl
Earlier that day, Bruce Wayne and his trusted manservant, Alfred, were huddled around a high-powered laptop computer in the Penthouse Suite of the Metropolis Arms Hotel. Alfred glanced over Bruce’s shoulder at the screen. A young blonde haired woman’s website was front and center. “Looking for a date, Sir?” Alfred’s dry British wit kicked in.
“Not quite, Alfred.” Bruce said as he leaned back from the laptop, and chewed on the earpiece of his square lens reading glasses. Alfred read the website title clearly. “Wall of Weird?” The English nobleman parroted. “Catchy.”
“Miss Sullivan’s name comes up frequently when I research all things locally that could be considered odd or unusual.” Bruce explained. “As does one Clark Kent and also Lois Lane. The three seem inexorably linked to all things weird in the area.”
“I see.” Alfred commented dryly. He was beginning to lose interest. “There’s not enough weirdness in Gotham City for you, Sir?” Bruce smirked. “There’s definitely something more going on in this locality than meets the eye.” Bruce continued.
“Young Kent is the son of Senator Martha Kent. She represents this district of Central Kansas.” Bruce scowled. “What’s the connection?” He thought out loud. “Kent lives like a pauper despite his powerful and well liked Mother’s job. He works at a menial job at the newspaper, The Metropolis Daily Planet.” Alfred began to make the suite’s bed out of habit.
“Perhaps he’s just frugal, Sir.” Alfred responded, glancing back over his shoulder. “Relax, Alfred.” Bruce urged. “The hotel staff will take care of all that. Why don’t you just grab a book and read by the poolside?”
“It’s a bit chilly out for that, Sir.” Alfred replied. “But the sentiment is appreciated.” Bruce nodded and went back to perusing Chloe’s Website. “Now this missing young billionaire, Alexander ‘Lex’ Luthor seems to have been heavily involved with Kent and Sullivan. That just doesn’t add up.” Alfred nodded with feigned interest.
“Why?” Bruce scratched his head. “I know for a fact that Luthor is dirty.” Alfred became slightly more interested. “There’s even unproven suspicions that Lex murdered his father, Lionel.” Alfred’s eyes widened. “How horrible, Sir. This Lex is still at large?”
Bruce nodded. “Apparently. He seems to have conveniently disappeared. Lex has had all kinds of dealings with the world’s undesirables.” Alfred checked his super expensive Swiss watch. “Master Bruce, You have that meeting with Metropolis Financial in two hours.” He reminded him. “Do you need help prepping for it?”
“No thanks, Alfred.” Bruce bit his lower lip. “It’s pretty much run of the mill stuff. Where are the kids today?” Alfred sighed. “Miss Barbara has gone shopping, and Master Dick was, and I quote directly, going to check out some babes and bikes at a Harley Davidson Dealer.”
Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Dick.” Alfred’s eyebrows rose. “Did you want me to keep an eye on them while you’re at the meetings?” Bruce glanced up from the laptop screen. “No…I have a better idea. Let’s send them out to the Kent Farm to have a look around.”
Alfred gawked openly for a moment. “What should they say if they run into this Clark Kent?” Bruce nibbled on the edge of a pen cap. “Let’s say that the kids were sent over to see a real working farm for a school project. It sounds lame, but I don’t foresee any danger.”
“It would certainly keep them out of trouble for a while.” Alfred chimed in. “That would be my hope.” Bruce added. “I’ll clear it with Senator Kent. Maybe she can have her son meet Dick and Barbara there.” He flipped on his cell phone.
In Central Metropolis, just north of the Main Street shopping district, a single metallic red motorcycle putters along, stuck in traffic. Dick’s Com link beeped. “Yeah Barb, where are you at?” He spoke into the wrist hugging communication device.
“Stuck on Fourth and Central.” Came the young coed’s response. Barb glanced behind her and saw nothing but curb-to-curb cars. “The traffic here sucks! Its at least as bad as Gotham City during Rush Hour.” Dick had to stop for another light. “Tell me about it!”
“Did you catch Bruce’s message?” He asked over the noise of the idling bike. Barb’s long reddish blonde hair trailed behind her beneath the helmet, as the traffic finally began to move. The whine of the motorcycle engine hummed as she reached a standard thirty miles per hour.
“Yeah, I guess that we’re heading out to the boonies.” Barb replied. “I just went shopping, and farm apparel was definitely not on my list.” Dick’s ride began to move up the traffic line. “I guess we’ll have to stop again somewhere on the way out of town.”
“I doubt if flannel shirts, blue jeans, and cow pie kickers are going to break the WayneCo Bank credit cards that we have!” Barb quipped. “There’s more to all of this, I’m sure.” She added, slowing to a stop in front of the Daily Planet news tower.
“Bruce wants us to check out this Clark Kent. He seems to think that there’s more to him than being a simple farm boy turned cub reporter.” Barb informed Dick. “Terrific!” He grumbled. “I hope that we don’t end up with a weeklong backlog of Gotham City scumbags to deal with, while we’re chasing this Farmer Brown.”
Barb snickered. “Aw come on, Dick! This is our big chance to get away from it all.” Dick rolled his eyes as he muttered. “True, but this isn’t exactly South Beach in the fall is it? I mean its called Smallville for a reason. Dick out!”
Sometime later, the teen crime-fighters were out on the open road running their motorcycles far above the posted speed limits. Each rider sported the traditional flannels, blue jeans, and boots. They stopped off briefly at a local grease pit called Harlan’s Hot Dogs.
The teens wolfed down the fast food meals, and slurped rather large colas. “You know Barb, I’ve been thinking…” Dick began to sound philosophical. Barb would have none of it. “I told you to stop doing that.” She teased. “Every time you think, you weaken the nation.” Dick’s eyes sparkled at the good-natured ribbing. “Listen, Barbara Sue…” He began his retort.
His comeback was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a Harley Davidson roaring past the fast food place. “Whoa! That chick was hauling!” Dick exclaimed as the cycle sped on. Barb glared at him. “Chick? Yee Haw, Dick! I see that you’ve gotten into the spirit of the local’s dialect.” She sniped.
“That was a real boss hog!” Dick exclaimed as Barb wrinkled her nose at him. “Boss hog?” She repeated. “How much time did you spend at the motorcycle dealership, anyway?” Dick ignored her comment. “Maybe we can catch her!” He said excitedly, as he gulped down the last of his drink. “Catch her? Why?” Barb was growing annoyed.
“Just to talk shop!” Dick defended. “That was a top of the line Gold Wing that she was driving!” He pleaded with his eyes. Barb sighed before giving in. “Whatever!” She finished off her cola. Barb recalled that she really didn’t have many friends, and it might be nice to have an E mail pal outside of Gotham. “Let’s roll, bird boy!”
Dick dashed past her and hopped aboard his ride. Barb followed suit shortly thereafter. They took off down the road after the speedy biker girl. “Hey! What if we get a ticket?” Barb protested into the wrist Com link. Dick barely heard her over the roaring din of the bikes.
“Bruce can have it fixed, or just pay it outright!” Dick shouted back. “Yeah, but we’d get a major lecture!” She countered, groaning. They spied the solitary rider up ahead. Fortunately for them, she’d slowed down substantially.
The raven-haired girl noticed that she was being followed. Instead of speeding up, she dialed the output back to let them catch up. “Hey! Nice ride!” Dick bellowed, thoroughly embarrassing Barb. “Thanks!” The girl yelled back. “Yours aren’t bad either.”
She pulled off the main highway and onto a gravel access road that ran perpendicular to a nearby forest preserve ridge. The trees had begun to reach their peak fall color locally. The lady biker slowed to a stop alongside an old wooden bridge overlooking a river. In the distance we see a roughly rounded lake, with some stray fishermen casting their lines.
The lady biker removed her helmet and visor. The helmet was glossy black with twin gold stripes on either side of it. There was an image of a golden colored hawk across its front. The motorcycle, matched the helmet to the max, including the familiar Gold Wing logo on its sides.
“Laura Lake.” She extended a hand to Dick who had pulled up alongside her. He removed his red and black helmet. “Richard Grayson.” Barb pulled up next, rolling her eyes. Richard? She mentally groused. “Barbara Gordon.” She introduced herself after removing her helmet and visor.
“Nice rides.” Laura praised. “Wayne Nippon twenty five hundreds, right?” Dick nodded, sucking up. “Not as nice as yours. That’s a fully restored nineteen eighty five Gold Wing, isn’t it?” Laura smiled. “Yup. Very good, Richard.” She tried to flirt, although she knew that she wasn’t very good at it. “It was actually my late father’s ride.” Laura admitted sullenly.
“I tricked it out last year and added some luggage space.” Laura said proudly. “You guys aren’t from around here, are you?” She fished. “No. Actually, we’re from Gotham City.” Dick said before he’d thought it through. Barb winced. Too much information, she mused.
They dismounted their bikes. Laura was a bit taller than Dick or Barb, and slightly stockier than either as well. The teens chatted pleasantly for a few more minutes.
Laura checked our Richard. He had a square jaw, tousled black shoulder length hair, and a smaller but wiry build. She lost herself briefly in his sky blue eyes. Laura quickly shook her gaze away. After a failed romance with Clark, and her childhood friend, Mike Trent, romance was the last thing on her mind, especially with her new commitment to Oliver and his group.
Richard’s girlfriend, or whatever, was petite, and hadn’t an ounce of body fat on her. She seemed to have some intensity about her that Laura hadn’t recently seen. Barb’s gaze was fixed on Richard, like she was waiting for him to say or do something stupid.
Dick was instantly smitten as he made eye contact with Laura. Barb sighed patiently, with very little to say. Dick noted the two long golden blonde strands of hair that framed Laura’s thin face. Her high cheekbones were covered in grime, which in Dick’s opinion added to her allure.
Laura was about to put her helmet back on, and make an excuse to leave, when she remembered something that Chloe had mentioned about a party? She strained to recall the E mail wording. “By the way.” Barb interrupted her train of thought. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Kent Farm is, would you?” Laura went rigid as she debated how best to answer.
“Yeah, I know the Kents, why?” Laura’s tone was defensive. “Uh…” Dick began as he lost concentration. He’d been busy admiring Laura’s bright red lips. Barbara sighed tiredly. “We’re supposed to head over there…um…to study a real working farm for school.” She explained.
Laura wasn’t buying it. She wanted to know what the visitors from Gotham were truly up to. “We cleared it with Senator Kent.” Barb filled in while Dick gathered his thoughts. “Oh. That’s okay then.” Laura baited as her eyebrows rose. “It’s really not far from here. If you promise to call ahead, I can guide you there.” Barbara nodded. “Done.”
She flipped her reddish blonde hair over her shoulder, and pulled out her cell phone. The wrist Com links that the teen crime-fighters wore were specifically used to contact Bruce or Alfred. “Senator Kent, please.” She asked to Laura’s satisfaction.
“Directions?” Barb continued the conversation. “No, we found some one to help us. Miss Laura Lake.” She explained to Martha, who gave them her blessing to proceed. “She says that it’s okay. She also wants me to call and see if her son Clark, or niece Kara, are home.”
Laura nodded absently as she looked out over the speedily flowing river. She recalled a story that Clark had shared with her, about saving Lana Lang’s life at this very bridge some years ago. I kind of wish he hadn’t, Laura thought sourly. Laura had lost Clark’s affection to Lana about two long years ago. She quickly put those negative thoughts out of her mind.
It was just some leftover petty jealousy, she realized after a moment. She was a lovesick sixteen-year-old girl. Laura dismissed the dark attitude. Now I’m eighteen, and a superhero. I don’t have time to dredge up the past, she analyzed. The world had changed, and I have changed.
Dick continued to admire Laura, as the young woman seemed lost in thought. He felt something change in him at that moment, but wasn’t sure what. He finally got back on track. “Laura, do you mind telling me how old you are?” Dick struggled to make conversation.
“Huh?” Laura glanced at Dick. “Oh, I’m sorry. Eighteen, and you?” Dick flushed. “The same, and Barb here is a bit older.” Barbara was engrossed in a conversation with Clark’s voice Mail.
“Are you two…together?” Laura nodded towards the young female crime-fighter. “Uh…no…we just sort of work together.” Dick replied as he brushed the hair off the back of his neck, a nervous habit that he’d picked up. “Vague, but I’ll take it.” Laura smiled as she smoothed things over.
part 2 next
Thanks Miray! Here's a new chapter!
Gold Wing and a Prayer Guest Starring: Nightwing and Batgirl
Earlier that day, Bruce Wayne and his trusted manservant, Alfred, were huddled around a high-powered laptop computer in the Penthouse Suite of the Metropolis Arms Hotel. Alfred glanced over Bruce’s shoulder at the screen. A young blonde haired woman’s website was front and center. “Looking for a date, Sir?” Alfred’s dry British wit kicked in.
“Not quite, Alfred.” Bruce said as he leaned back from the laptop, and chewed on the earpiece of his square lens reading glasses. Alfred read the website title clearly. “Wall of Weird?” The English nobleman parroted. “Catchy.”
“Miss Sullivan’s name comes up frequently when I research all things locally that could be considered odd or unusual.” Bruce explained. “As does one Clark Kent and also Lois Lane. The three seem inexorably linked to all things weird in the area.”
“I see.” Alfred commented dryly. He was beginning to lose interest. “There’s not enough weirdness in Gotham City for you, Sir?” Bruce smirked. “There’s definitely something more going on in this locality than meets the eye.” Bruce continued.
“Young Kent is the son of Senator Martha Kent. She represents this district of Central Kansas.” Bruce scowled. “What’s the connection?” He thought out loud. “Kent lives like a pauper despite his powerful and well liked Mother’s job. He works at a menial job at the newspaper, The Metropolis Daily Planet.” Alfred began to make the suite’s bed out of habit.
“Perhaps he’s just frugal, Sir.” Alfred responded, glancing back over his shoulder. “Relax, Alfred.” Bruce urged. “The hotel staff will take care of all that. Why don’t you just grab a book and read by the poolside?”
“It’s a bit chilly out for that, Sir.” Alfred replied. “But the sentiment is appreciated.” Bruce nodded and went back to perusing Chloe’s Website. “Now this missing young billionaire, Alexander ‘Lex’ Luthor seems to have been heavily involved with Kent and Sullivan. That just doesn’t add up.” Alfred nodded with feigned interest.
“Why?” Bruce scratched his head. “I know for a fact that Luthor is dirty.” Alfred became slightly more interested. “There’s even unproven suspicions that Lex murdered his father, Lionel.” Alfred’s eyes widened. “How horrible, Sir. This Lex is still at large?”
Bruce nodded. “Apparently. He seems to have conveniently disappeared. Lex has had all kinds of dealings with the world’s undesirables.” Alfred checked his super expensive Swiss watch. “Master Bruce, You have that meeting with Metropolis Financial in two hours.” He reminded him. “Do you need help prepping for it?”
“No thanks, Alfred.” Bruce bit his lower lip. “It’s pretty much run of the mill stuff. Where are the kids today?” Alfred sighed. “Miss Barbara has gone shopping, and Master Dick was, and I quote directly, going to check out some babes and bikes at a Harley Davidson Dealer.”
Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Dick.” Alfred’s eyebrows rose. “Did you want me to keep an eye on them while you’re at the meetings?” Bruce glanced up from the laptop screen. “No…I have a better idea. Let’s send them out to the Kent Farm to have a look around.”
Alfred gawked openly for a moment. “What should they say if they run into this Clark Kent?” Bruce nibbled on the edge of a pen cap. “Let’s say that the kids were sent over to see a real working farm for a school project. It sounds lame, but I don’t foresee any danger.”
“It would certainly keep them out of trouble for a while.” Alfred chimed in. “That would be my hope.” Bruce added. “I’ll clear it with Senator Kent. Maybe she can have her son meet Dick and Barbara there.” He flipped on his cell phone.
In Central Metropolis, just north of the Main Street shopping district, a single metallic red motorcycle putters along, stuck in traffic. Dick’s Com link beeped. “Yeah Barb, where are you at?” He spoke into the wrist hugging communication device.
“Stuck on Fourth and Central.” Came the young coed’s response. Barb glanced behind her and saw nothing but curb-to-curb cars. “The traffic here sucks! Its at least as bad as Gotham City during Rush Hour.” Dick had to stop for another light. “Tell me about it!”
“Did you catch Bruce’s message?” He asked over the noise of the idling bike. Barb’s long reddish blonde hair trailed behind her beneath the helmet, as the traffic finally began to move. The whine of the motorcycle engine hummed as she reached a standard thirty miles per hour.
“Yeah, I guess that we’re heading out to the boonies.” Barb replied. “I just went shopping, and farm apparel was definitely not on my list.” Dick’s ride began to move up the traffic line. “I guess we’ll have to stop again somewhere on the way out of town.”
“I doubt if flannel shirts, blue jeans, and cow pie kickers are going to break the WayneCo Bank credit cards that we have!” Barb quipped. “There’s more to all of this, I’m sure.” She added, slowing to a stop in front of the Daily Planet news tower.
“Bruce wants us to check out this Clark Kent. He seems to think that there’s more to him than being a simple farm boy turned cub reporter.” Barb informed Dick. “Terrific!” He grumbled. “I hope that we don’t end up with a weeklong backlog of Gotham City scumbags to deal with, while we’re chasing this Farmer Brown.”
Barb snickered. “Aw come on, Dick! This is our big chance to get away from it all.” Dick rolled his eyes as he muttered. “True, but this isn’t exactly South Beach in the fall is it? I mean its called Smallville for a reason. Dick out!”
Sometime later, the teen crime-fighters were out on the open road running their motorcycles far above the posted speed limits. Each rider sported the traditional flannels, blue jeans, and boots. They stopped off briefly at a local grease pit called Harlan’s Hot Dogs.
The teens wolfed down the fast food meals, and slurped rather large colas. “You know Barb, I’ve been thinking…” Dick began to sound philosophical. Barb would have none of it. “I told you to stop doing that.” She teased. “Every time you think, you weaken the nation.” Dick’s eyes sparkled at the good-natured ribbing. “Listen, Barbara Sue…” He began his retort.
His comeback was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a Harley Davidson roaring past the fast food place. “Whoa! That chick was hauling!” Dick exclaimed as the cycle sped on. Barb glared at him. “Chick? Yee Haw, Dick! I see that you’ve gotten into the spirit of the local’s dialect.” She sniped.
“That was a real boss hog!” Dick exclaimed as Barb wrinkled her nose at him. “Boss hog?” She repeated. “How much time did you spend at the motorcycle dealership, anyway?” Dick ignored her comment. “Maybe we can catch her!” He said excitedly, as he gulped down the last of his drink. “Catch her? Why?” Barb was growing annoyed.
“Just to talk shop!” Dick defended. “That was a top of the line Gold Wing that she was driving!” He pleaded with his eyes. Barb sighed before giving in. “Whatever!” She finished off her cola. Barb recalled that she really didn’t have many friends, and it might be nice to have an E mail pal outside of Gotham. “Let’s roll, bird boy!”
Dick dashed past her and hopped aboard his ride. Barb followed suit shortly thereafter. They took off down the road after the speedy biker girl. “Hey! What if we get a ticket?” Barb protested into the wrist Com link. Dick barely heard her over the roaring din of the bikes.
“Bruce can have it fixed, or just pay it outright!” Dick shouted back. “Yeah, but we’d get a major lecture!” She countered, groaning. They spied the solitary rider up ahead. Fortunately for them, she’d slowed down substantially.
The raven-haired girl noticed that she was being followed. Instead of speeding up, she dialed the output back to let them catch up. “Hey! Nice ride!” Dick bellowed, thoroughly embarrassing Barb. “Thanks!” The girl yelled back. “Yours aren’t bad either.”
She pulled off the main highway and onto a gravel access road that ran perpendicular to a nearby forest preserve ridge. The trees had begun to reach their peak fall color locally. The lady biker slowed to a stop alongside an old wooden bridge overlooking a river. In the distance we see a roughly rounded lake, with some stray fishermen casting their lines.
The lady biker removed her helmet and visor. The helmet was glossy black with twin gold stripes on either side of it. There was an image of a golden colored hawk across its front. The motorcycle, matched the helmet to the max, including the familiar Gold Wing logo on its sides.
“Laura Lake.” She extended a hand to Dick who had pulled up alongside her. He removed his red and black helmet. “Richard Grayson.” Barb pulled up next, rolling her eyes. Richard? She mentally groused. “Barbara Gordon.” She introduced herself after removing her helmet and visor.
“Nice rides.” Laura praised. “Wayne Nippon twenty five hundreds, right?” Dick nodded, sucking up. “Not as nice as yours. That’s a fully restored nineteen eighty five Gold Wing, isn’t it?” Laura smiled. “Yup. Very good, Richard.” She tried to flirt, although she knew that she wasn’t very good at it. “It was actually my late father’s ride.” Laura admitted sullenly.
“I tricked it out last year and added some luggage space.” Laura said proudly. “You guys aren’t from around here, are you?” She fished. “No. Actually, we’re from Gotham City.” Dick said before he’d thought it through. Barb winced. Too much information, she mused.
They dismounted their bikes. Laura was a bit taller than Dick or Barb, and slightly stockier than either as well. The teens chatted pleasantly for a few more minutes.
Laura checked our Richard. He had a square jaw, tousled black shoulder length hair, and a smaller but wiry build. She lost herself briefly in his sky blue eyes. Laura quickly shook her gaze away. After a failed romance with Clark, and her childhood friend, Mike Trent, romance was the last thing on her mind, especially with her new commitment to Oliver and his group.
Richard’s girlfriend, or whatever, was petite, and hadn’t an ounce of body fat on her. She seemed to have some intensity about her that Laura hadn’t recently seen. Barb’s gaze was fixed on Richard, like she was waiting for him to say or do something stupid.
Dick was instantly smitten as he made eye contact with Laura. Barb sighed patiently, with very little to say. Dick noted the two long golden blonde strands of hair that framed Laura’s thin face. Her high cheekbones were covered in grime, which in Dick’s opinion added to her allure.
Laura was about to put her helmet back on, and make an excuse to leave, when she remembered something that Chloe had mentioned about a party? She strained to recall the E mail wording. “By the way.” Barb interrupted her train of thought. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Kent Farm is, would you?” Laura went rigid as she debated how best to answer.
“Yeah, I know the Kents, why?” Laura’s tone was defensive. “Uh…” Dick began as he lost concentration. He’d been busy admiring Laura’s bright red lips. Barbara sighed tiredly. “We’re supposed to head over there…um…to study a real working farm for school.” She explained.
Laura wasn’t buying it. She wanted to know what the visitors from Gotham were truly up to. “We cleared it with Senator Kent.” Barb filled in while Dick gathered his thoughts. “Oh. That’s okay then.” Laura baited as her eyebrows rose. “It’s really not far from here. If you promise to call ahead, I can guide you there.” Barbara nodded. “Done.”
She flipped her reddish blonde hair over her shoulder, and pulled out her cell phone. The wrist Com links that the teen crime-fighters wore were specifically used to contact Bruce or Alfred. “Senator Kent, please.” She asked to Laura’s satisfaction.
“Directions?” Barb continued the conversation. “No, we found some one to help us. Miss Laura Lake.” She explained to Martha, who gave them her blessing to proceed. “She says that it’s okay. She also wants me to call and see if her son Clark, or niece Kara, are home.”
Laura nodded absently as she looked out over the speedily flowing river. She recalled a story that Clark had shared with her, about saving Lana Lang’s life at this very bridge some years ago. I kind of wish he hadn’t, Laura thought sourly. Laura had lost Clark’s affection to Lana about two long years ago. She quickly put those negative thoughts out of her mind.
It was just some leftover petty jealousy, she realized after a moment. She was a lovesick sixteen-year-old girl. Laura dismissed the dark attitude. Now I’m eighteen, and a superhero. I don’t have time to dredge up the past, she analyzed. The world had changed, and I have changed.
Dick continued to admire Laura, as the young woman seemed lost in thought. He felt something change in him at that moment, but wasn’t sure what. He finally got back on track. “Laura, do you mind telling me how old you are?” Dick struggled to make conversation.
“Huh?” Laura glanced at Dick. “Oh, I’m sorry. Eighteen, and you?” Dick flushed. “The same, and Barb here is a bit older.” Barbara was engrossed in a conversation with Clark’s voice Mail.
“Are you two…together?” Laura nodded towards the young female crime-fighter. “Uh…no…we just sort of work together.” Dick replied as he brushed the hair off the back of his neck, a nervous habit that he’d picked up. “Vague, but I’ll take it.” Laura smiled as she smoothed things over.
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