My, how plans change! Originally this was supposed to be a follow-up to the epilogue of An Unexpected Visitor. But edits and additions piled on and as the story expanded I realized such would not be the case. A few FoLC’s have asked me to develop further on what happened between Bernie and Abrihet, so here we go …with a bonus!
Thanks to betas Bobbart, KenJ and Sydney. Their help gave this story a sense of Paris, whimsy and yet firmly grounded the whole thing in reality.
There is a strong possibility this will expand into a trilogy but other stories come first…
Legal Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story are not my property. I am only spending a little time with them in an Alternative Universe.
Autumn in Paris
“Yes, Lois, I will give her your regards, my best to Clark, good-night.” Bernie place the phone receiver in its, cradle and grinned. It was exciting to acquaint Lois with their plans. For a little over two months, he was going to live in Paris. He and Abrihet wanted to get to know one another better and that was impossible when separated by three thousand mile of dark, blue Atlantic Ocean. He thought ‘I always fantasized about being James Bond, but right now having Superman’s mastery of flight would be supremely helpful.’
He stood up from the couch and looked around his living room taking in the mishmash of furniture which he privately thought of as ‘yard sale chic’. He seldom entertained and when he did it was to academics and scientists like himself whose only concern was that the coffee be flavored with cognac, the pastries were delicious and the conversation scintillating. But with Abrihet visiting him most evenings he felt it was time his condo received a much needed – what was it she said? ‘Decoration do over’? With a chuckle and a spring in his step he walked down the hallway to tell his lady about the phone conversation with Lois.
“Chéri, what did Lois say?” Abrihet called out. She had been reading an online journal of the processing of iron ore while Bernie had been on the phone with Lois.
Bernie walked into the second bedroom that served as his office and answered “She – and I am quite certain Clark - are happy for us!”
Her mouth stretched into a luminous smile showing off beautiful, white teeth. “This is so fantastique! I have only really gotten to know you without a computer between us for three weeks, and yet I feel like we have been together always.” She hesitated for a moment and asked shyly, “Going to Paris together, are we not moving too rapidly Bernard?”
He cherished the way she spoke his name, the combination of French and Nigerian accents were like the melding of a precise mathematical proof. Apprehensive, but confident of every word he answered firmly, “No. We are mature adults and scientists. We both know what we want; which is to explore our relationship in the traditional sense. We will each keep separate homes and spend time together between my attending conferences and giving lectures and your work. Shall there be challenges? Yes aplenty. Abrihet, I have spent my days among scientists, laboratories and computer printouts– hiding from life. In the short time I have known you, my life and world have *exploded* in a multiple directions, which I won’t stop now.”
Indeed in a tiny stride of days – less time than it requires for the moon to go around the earth, this dazzlingly attractive and multi-talented woman had come to mean so much to him. Just when had they come to be more than friends and yet less than lovers? They had begun corresponding via e-mail over a year before; when he had seen an article she had posted in a journal on metallurgy. He had a series of questions which she answered in such a warm and inviting manner he wondered what the woman behind the e-mail was like.
They must have exchanged over one thousand e-mails, discussing everything from Tycho Brahe’s planetary observations to the history of the waltz. He could not begin to remember how many times he would call her to ask a quick metallurgic question only to remain on the phone for hours. His personal phone bill was frightening. He had spoken so much about their discussions that it piqued the board of directors’ interest and they extended an invitation for her to come to S.T.A.R. Labs and present a lecture on her findings.
Naturally they had exchanged photos, yet he was eager to meet her in the flesh, but nothing had prepared him for the reality. From the moment she walked into his laboratory, extended her hand and smiled at him, he knew with absolute certainty his existence would by no means be the same.
Never in his neatly ordered life of pursuing scientific perfection had he ever envisioned experiencing the mysterious equation for falling in love.
Gracefully Abrihet stood up from his work station, arched her back and stretched the tight muscles. Although it had been years since she had taught Ballroom dancing, Abrihet’s body was mature, but still fit and strong. She looked amazing in anything, but the fashionable jeans and a red pullover sweater lent her a sophisticated, yet comfortable air.
She walked over to him and taking his hand, she said, “As has mine.” No further words were spoken as they embraced, holding each other, drawing strength and love. He ran his fingers through her long braids, loving their texture and scent of Thierry Mugler’s Angel, a popular perfume in France. The cloying scent of her French perfume, these two words conveyed all of the glamour, beauty and elegance of his beloved. Oh yes, he might have spent most of his time in the laboratory but with Abrihet in his life he was learning a great deal about French culture in general and Paris in particular.
Her voice - soft and gentle - whispered into his chest, “Bernard, I wish to remain here in Metropolis longer but I must return to my duties and classes at the Sorbonne ...”
Reluctantly Bernie pulled away from their embrace. He had been expecting to hear that, but not so soon. He could feel the Adam’s apple in his throat tighten as he spoke, “When?”
“As soon as possible, remember my visit began in early August, I must return in time for the September classes. As you know, it is impossible for a French citizen to go the US if she can't prove to the US authorities that she had the ticket to return to her country. So return I must.”
Bernhard stuttered, “I …I have friends at the State Department, they can get you a work visa.”
She placed her forefinger on his lips and whispered, “No. We have spoken of this in the past. I must prepare for my students.”
“Je vois.” (I see) Bernie offered his voice gloomy.
“Ah! Tu t'entraînes?” (Practicing?)
“Oui.” The gentle scientist said with a tiny, fragile smile.
Abrihet was trying to turn his mind away from her departure, “While I am gone I expect great progress! So, you shall join me as soon as affairs here are concluded?”
“Yes, I will take care of renting out my condo and making sure there is someone to cover for me at the lab.”
“Oui, without a visa, you will be allowed you to stay in France for 90 days. Fortunately the Université Pierre et Marie Curie, part of Sorbonne Universities was so excited to have you as a guest lecturer on Quantum physics they bypassed a number of rules. So you will not be paid by the school, but by S.T.A.R. Labs.”
He looked down into her dark eyes and said with a hint of mischief, “But we won’t be working all the time? Weren’t there places you wanted us to explore?”
His remark was rewarded by seeing her face light up in happy anticipation. “Bernard there are *so* many places for us to see, the Sorbonne at night, my favorite market, Place, Maubert and wait until we walk over to the square Saint-Julien-le Pauvre, at the corner of the rue Galande. From there, we can see Notre-Dame! Ah yes, The Louvre! It will take weeks for us to cover all the exhibits; artwork and statues from Egypt and Babylon, some are several meters high. We must sample the pastries at Clark’s favorite bakery Chez Morel. I want to introduce you to Amandine, the owner.”
Excited by the prospect of seeing the everyday places of her life he said, “I want to see the boat, the one that floats down the Seine. Oh, what is its name? Bateau Mouche right? That was in the movie with Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant …Charade.”
Her laughter soared in the air like a young girl’s, “Oui! Many Americans remember that film, as well as Fred Astaire’s, An American in Paris.”
“Gene Kelly,’ he corrected gently.
“They are both dancers, no?” She smiled slyly, “Speaking of dance, so shall we …”
Bernie paled. “Me? Dance? Oh no! Not that!”
She playfully punched him in the ribs, “Chéri, if I can teach the strongest man in the world to waltz, I can teach you!”
He fought to hold back a smile but failed miserably, despite all the difficulties of continuing their courtship, everything just seemed so *right*. Take for instance her visit to his home this evening. Abrihet’s presence had filled the apartment in a way it had never been before; there was a warmth and comfort that the proper bachelor’s home had been sorely missing.
Falling in love was all his friends and colleagues said it would be and so much more. Her voice broke into his thoughts.
“It is very well for us to be thinking about autumn in Paris, but for now, should we not be thinking about *dinner*? Mentioning Chez Morel was *not* a good idea. I am famished!”
He wanted to make the evening easier on both of them and show off his French at the same time, Bernie replied, Où aimerais-tu aller? (Where would you like to go?”)
She wrinkled her nose, “All this eating out is not good for us. Why not here? What is in your réfrigérateur?
Bernie looked at her with a quizzical expression. S.T.A.R. Labs had an excellent cafeteria. Many nights when he wasn’t working late he purchased something from there and brought it home. Years before getting involved with all night long experiments, he could cook, but had simply fallen out of the habit. He shrugged, a little embarrassed “Nothing much, some odds and ends …”
She entered the tiny kitchen and pulled open the cupboards and fridge, revealing the contents: Roasted chicken, tri-color tortellini, broccoli, grape tomatoes and a jar of Fettuccini Alfredo sauce.
“Ah! Perfect! Tonight we stay in! Bernard, while I am cooking, could you get us a bottle of Chianti?”
He grinned from ear to ear. That he could do!
Within thirty minutes, they were sitting down at the table to eat.
“Bernard, Paris in fall is a little chilly, you will need proper clothing to wear during our strolls. The avenues and parks in autumn take on a different ‘feel’, on my street, the lamplights set off the golden gown of leaves. Autumn is not only a time for me to return to school, it is also a time for my adopted city to renew and celebrate its devotion to culture. Paris embraces the celebration and the sight is restful and at the same time inspiring. If we are to enjoy long walks through Paris than you need a warm and comfortable sweater – either a cardigan or a shawl collar would be perfect over your lean frame.”
He shrugged thinking this was a simple matter, “I can purchase one before leaving.”
“No, that is not *special* enough. I shall knit one while waiting for your arrival. Lois told me about a une mercerie across the street from her uncle’s restaurant. It is called, Rhapsody Knits. Tomorrow if you wish, we can go and see what kind of laine works for you.”
His quiet face lit up in surprise, “Knit a sweater? What can Abrihet Sensei *not* do?”
Her brown eyes become soft and she said, “As the two months goes by and we grow closer we will understand and learn from each other’s strengths and weaknesses. I hope our feelings for each other are stronger in November …” Without warning, her face grew flush with embarrassment she looked down at her plate not wishing to say more.
Deeply touched, Bernie stood, came around the table and gently pulled her up to him, their lips met in a bold, deep kiss, their tongues tasting and teasing as their hearts swelled with an almost desperate longing. Although her flight would not be for two more days they were already missing each other terribly.
***
Later that evening as they were walking back to her hotel, Bernie said, “Regarding the sweater, if we can find yarn in a rich burgundy that would be my preference.”
“Oui, it would go nicely with your eyes,” she said thoughtfully.
“I’m glad a friendship is developing between you and Lois. I was afraid you might not get to know anyone here, Metropolis can sometimes be a cold place.”
“Truly I have loved my time here, both with you and on my own. Ah, Lois has a good heart. We have lunched together at least twice this week. It seems odd to me, but since Lex Luthor’s disappearance, both she and Clark are more relaxed. Considering all the terrible unpleasantness Mr. Luthor brought into their lives, that is very good.”
Bernie considered what she had said. Mr. Luthor *had* disappeared on the same day that Clark had been shot. Regardless of the fact that he was Superman’s physician, there were some things even he was not privileged to know. An uneasy feeling sent a chill through his body; perhaps the Kents knew more about what had happened to the devious billionaire then either was willing to say. As a consequence, he could not help but wonder if the two events were related and if so, what had happened to Lex Luthor?
***
New Krypton
Three weeks before
One moment Lex was in the familiar and comfort surroundings of his office, the next he was forcefully thrown into a cold void only to land unceremoniously on a surface of rough hewn stones. The next moment his eyes ached from hard blue white illumination that spilled from a wide aperture in midair, instinctively he knew that was where he had emerged from.
He tried to stand and regain his balance, but it was impossible. A giant hand seemed to have laid over him, refusing to allow his protesting muscles to move. He clutched his eyes tightly shut, allowing only his ears to record what was happening to him. Quickly a fine sheen of sweat drenched his body; even his hands were disturbingly slick with moisture. The air seemed to squeeze itself within from his lungs, muscle, bone and sinew were so heavy, and the pain – like nothing he had ever experienced before - was indescribable. He had been in this nightmarish place there a few seconds but everything, even the effort of breathing was tiring him.
A cacophony of strange voices, their words unfamiliar surrounded him; the sounds, so foreign so *alien*, threatened to harm not just his ears, but his fatigued brain cells as well. A woman’s soft yet commanding voice cut through his agony, her voice a clear symphony over the mélange of noise. She spoke in English, but her accent was like Jor-El’s the madman who sent him here. “Do not attempt to move Mr. Luthor, if you do, the effort will shatter your bones.”
Shocked, Lex opened an eye to find out exactly where he was, before him were several oddly garbed people, the oldest of the group, a grey-haired man wearing dark, heavy robes in a red so deep it was almost black, walked over to the woman who must have spoken to him, a fascinating creature with long black hair that spilled down her back. She stood out among the group wearing clothing any young woman around Metropolis would wear. He seemed to be questioning her, but she shook her head, in the negative.
<<Trey, I go. He needs me. There is so much we need to know about Kal-El’s world.” She turned and her eyes met Lex’s, the disdain and anger radiating from her stuck him like a physical thing. She pointed at him and spoke again in that strange language. <<Keep this one under guard in the new facility!>>
The older man shook his head; Lex could tell from his body language he had every intention of winning this argument. <<My lady, this behavior of the First Lord’s … is unreasonable. Originally he was going to execute this Earthling for what he attempted to do to Lord Kal-El. If he does not desire to do so, wouldn’t it be better to send him to the Phantom Zone instead? It would be so much cleaner than murder. He would have to struggle to continue to exist, but he would be alive and contained.>>
<<No. The people of New Krypton are crossing the threshold into a new age; one of reason and compassion. Should my husband decide to end this man’s life it will be *his* decision. Enough blood has been shed, would you not agree?>>
Lex knew they were speaking about him, but his limbs were so strained, so drained of vital energy he struggled to remain conscious. A woman clad in a soft golden gown and carrying a tray knelt beside him and took a dark-green mask from the tray and placed it over his face. He breathed in the spicy scent, as it reached his sinuses the blessed mists of unconsciousness dropped him in an emptiness as dark as any he had ever known.
***
Once he was asleep, Zara removed a small, green gelatin pellet from the tray and placed it in Lex’s ear. The heat from his body caused the pellet to dissolve in the canal and would eventually swathe the inner ear. “He will enter the healing sleep. Not only will his body heal from the trauma of transport, but it will allow the translation device to meld with the Primary Auditory Cortex his brain. By the time he wakes up, he should understand and speak our language.”
Trey snorted in derision, “Good. It will make his life with us bearable.”
No one responded to the Councilman’s comment.
Ching cocked his head and said, “’Should’ understand?”
She turned to them after reading Lex's vital signs. “Yes husband. My lady Josca, this is not an exact science. He will be our first specimen of the human species. They look like us, but their organs are not exactly the same. He will be – what are those human words …?”
The expression on Josca’s face was pained when she said, “Guinea pig or test subject. You must not do that to him. He is a prisoner, but will be given his dignity - which is far more than he deserves.”
Zara stood and activated a device attached to her wrist and from nowhere a stretcher appeared, a guard stepped out from the group of people, carefully picked up the prisoner and laid him upon it.
Josca spoke to General Ching, a medium built man with sandy hair, wearing the garb of New Krypton’s elite Sapphire corps, “Make certain he reaches the special chamber before the medicine Zara administered wears off. The last thing we need is for our ‘guest’ to die before reaching his new home.”
“By your command Lady Josca,” he looked thoughtful and then said, “I have a capable man who will be suitable for the task of warder. The duty will give him time to … think.” General Ching stiffly nodded his head, turned, his short blue cape fluttering gently and followed the stretcher out of the chamber.
“The First Lord and I will return soon. Trey, as head of the council, we hold you in trust of New Krypton until our return. If something should happen to us. Jor-El’s first born, Yar-El shall become the new First Lord.”
Trey bowed, he was not pleased with this arrangement, but since Jor-El had created the transfer beam he had known that this day would come.
“As *your husband*, the First Lord of Krypton, wishes I shall obey.”
Her lips smirked; Trey was a product of the past, when Kryptonian noblewomen were still little better than chattel. He still did not realize that *together* she and Jor-El ruled this new world. Nonetheless she had developed a grudging respect for the old man; he had given his life in service to Krypton, both old and new. She reached up and placed her hand on Trey’s shoulder knowing it would disturb him because physical contact – especially in public – between nobles would be perceived as overly familiar. But she wanted to convey she understood his words. He gave her an odd look and then with a diplomat’s grace, bowed his head in acknowledgment of her command and touch.
“Thank you my friend. Care for our people while we are gone with honor and dignity we know you possess. Now, I must go.”
Josca turned and walked into the aperture of blue white light and vanished.
***
Lex awoke in a large bed; the sea green satin sheets were soft and delectable against his skin. He no longer wore a suit, but fine sleeping clothes of a fabric he had never felt before. The air felt cool and easy as it floated over his hands and face. He was in a sumptuously outfitted bedroom; spacious and appropriate for king. He looked around and noticed odd, colorful pennants made of a heavy woven fabric which adorned the walls. He was surprised to notice his mind was clear and the pain that had nearly crushed his chest was disappeared.
“Hello!” He cried out.
No answer.
“Hello, is anyone here?”
He stood up and opened the door. It led to another room, larger than the bedroom more like a living room, fitted out with heavy, exquisitely carved wooden furniture which gave the room a palatial feel. Standing by the door was a tall man with saturnine features and dark neatly trimmed bread wearing a blue uniform similar to the one he had seen before blacking out. He seemed to be waiting for Lex.
In an irritated tone, Lex strode up to him and demanded, “Who are you? Where am I?"
The man stood straighter and looked at Lex as if he were an insignificant bug. Than with a movement as swift as lightening pushed Lex to the floor and stood over him. “To answer your first question, you are in a special compound designed to simulate conditions on a small planet orbiting a yellow sun. In his wisdom and compassion,” The man spoke these words as if they were dirt in his mouth, “First Lord Jor-El has decided to spare your miserable life. These apartments have been constructed for your habitation, it is where you will live out the remainder of that life. Should you try to leave this compound without special armor the weight of your body under the acceleration of New Krypton’s gravity will surely incapacitate if not kill you as effectively as any weapon.” To emphasize this point, the man patted his thigh on which rested a wicked looking gun.
Stunned, Lex looked at the man and determined not to be cowed muttered, “I see.”
“I know that when my people are in your gravity and under the yellow sun we become stronger and faster. In these apartments I am your physical superior. In the next few weeks you will tell me *everything* about your world: its armies, communications, political arrangements and most of all its defenses. Ching thought that placing me here would isolate me. But he has made a serious tactical error.”
Lex climbed to his feet, speechless trying to absorb the words this man had so callously declared. Especially since they were not in English and he understood every word perfectly.
A distasteful frown flicked over the man’s face. “To answer your second question: Who am I? Let me assure you, I am no one of any great importance; merely your jailor, Captain Zod.”
