>>> from the journal of H. G. Wells
I have, on occasion, been accused – by both my co-workers and the people in the Bureau of Temporal Affairs to whom I report – of behaving as if I knew all the answers. I have also been accused of being arrogant and of ignoring certain facts which do not fit neatly into my own view of the world. I have always discounted those criticisms as either unjust or prompted by envy of my many accomplishments.
I am no longer so certain of the untruth of those accusations.
Since dropping Miss Lane off just outside of Gotham City, I have uncovered several unsavory rumors about her, along with a few equally unsavory and indisputable facts. I have also come to a few conclusions about the young lady, and I am no longer certain that I have done the right thing in this case.
However, now that I have done it, I do not know how to undo it. And I am not altogether certain that I should. Having admitted to this, I intend to take a more personal interest in this case than is recommended by the Bureau. Perhaps I can help Clark to fetch a victory from the clutches of disaster.
And I also hope that I am being unduly melodramatic.
>>>
Clark kept his speed well below Mach one to prevent a sonic boom, but he still arrived outside James Olsen’s office fifty-two seconds after he’d hung up the phone. He didn’t have time to fully process the news that Lois Lane might be in the Daily Planet’s owner’s office. He didn’t have time to deal with the sudden resurgence of feeling for his concept of the woman he thought Lois was. He hadn’t even tried to resolve the conflict that had sprung up between his remembered feelings for Lois and his fairly new, very current feelings for Lucy, all mixed up with his very real connection with the Lois from the other universe, the one who’d convinced him to put on the suit in the first place, the one whose husband he’d impersonated for several days, the one he’d almost kissed—
The one he’d wanted to stay with, despite everything else and everyone else in his life. The one for whom his current feelings were quite confused.
He’d have to deal with all that later. He landed on the office’s balcony, spun back into civilian clothes, and knocked on the door.
James opened it almost immediately. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Clark. Please, come in.”
He walked in cautiously, as if expecting a trap of some sort, but all he saw inside the office was a rail-thin brunette woman standing in front of James Olsen’s desk smoking a foul-smelling cigarette. She was wearing scuffed jeans, a brown cowgirl shirt, and sandals. Her ragged hair was cut short, almost above her ears. Her nails were as badly worn as the rest of her seemed to be.
She opened her eyes wide at him and said, “So you’re the big hero! You made really good time.”
He stopped, not knowing what to do. The internal resonance he remembered from the other Lois was strangely absent here. Perhaps it was because she’d never met him, or because he didn’t really know this Lois. At least, not yet.
He offered his hand and she took it. “When I’m dressed like this, people usually call me Clark.”
“Got it. You’re ‘Clark’ when you’re wearing your civvies, and – Superman? – when you’re in the blue and red suit, right?” She pulled her hand back and took another drag on her cigarette. “Hey, you know, I’ve been out of the loop for a while. A little over seven years, actually.”
James nodded and held out a piece of sculpture that had apparently been designated the ashtray du jour. “So, Lois, can you tell where you’ve been since you left on that gun-running story seven years ago?”
She took one last drag and crushed out the butt, pointedly not looking at either man. “Around, and I mean all over the place. Asia, Africa, Europe, and a couple of real short trips back to Central America.” She made momentary eye contact with James and turned away again. “I was taken prisoner by the chief gun-runner in the Congo, and I didn’t get away from him until about six weeks ago when one of his bodyguards shot him dead.”
Clark frowned at her. “They just let you go?”
“Hardly. I had to shoot my way out. And they were shooting back at me.”
She lifted her left arm and pulled back her sleeve. Clark looked closer at the bullet wound she revealed in her upper arm. “Wow. This is pretty new.”
She pulled the sleeve back down. “Yeah, I was lucky. It went through without breaking the bone. And it’s a little late to do much about the scar. It’ll fit in well with the rest of them, I guess.”
James frowned. “The rest of them?”
She limped slightly as she walked across the office to the window. “I have a pretty good collection. Those guys weren’t real gentle with me.” She turned back and noticed Clark looking at her intently. She frowned and spoke sharply to him. “Whassamatta, Buster, ain’t you never seen a woman before?”
He relaxed and put his hands in his pockets. “I was using my X-ray vision to check you for other injuries. I think you should see a doctor as soon as possible.”
She crossed her arms and scowled. “Oh? You think I should see a doctor? What brilliant genie whispered that little suggestion in your ear?”
He refused to be baited. “The fracture in your right lower leg is healed, but it’s not quite straight. It’s throwing off your gait. A physical therapist could probably help you. You have what looks like a pocket of infection in your left knee, just behind the kneecap. It’s another reason you’re limping. Your body fat percentage is too low, like you’ve been on short rations for several months. Your lungs are showing some damage from smoking, but I’m sure you already knew that. And you have a little fluid in the lower lobe of your left lung. Have you recently had pneumonia?”
“Yeah, I did.” She stared, open-mouthed. “You can see all that?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Huh. You a doctor, along with everything else you can do?”
Clark shook his head. “No, but I do have quite a bit of experience with trauma victims and illnesses.”
“So, you pretty much know what you’re talking about here?”
“Yes.”
“But – you – wow. You are pretty super, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Some people think so. I can take you to a doctor if you like. Or maybe—” he hesitated, then went on. “Or maybe your sister can take you.”
Lois was visibly stunned. “My sis – Lucy? You know Lucy? Is she – where does she live? Can I call her? Wait, that’s stupid, the shock might kill her! Does she even know I’m back? Has anyone told—”
James held up his hand. “No, Lois, I didn’t tell her. Clark is the only person I’ve called so far.”
“Oh. Good, yeah, she needs to know. Either one of you guys know her well enough to drop this bomb on her?”
Clark nodded. “I’ll do it. In fact, I can bring her here now if you like. Or I can arrange a meeting later. Depends on what you want.”
“Um. You think she’ll want to see me? I’ve been gone for a long time and she might be mad.”
“Believe me, Lois, your sister will want to see you.”
“Uh, yeah, okay, bring her here. How long will it take to get her here?”
James began, “About two minutes or—”
Clark interrupted. “I’d say about half an hour.”
Lois flared up. “Half an hour? I thought you were Super-fast-guy!”
“Superman. And I am pretty fast. But don’t you think she should have a few minutes to adjust to your being alive? You were declared legally dead three years ago.”
“I was?”
“Yep. There was a funeral and everything. You should have heard what a wonderful person you were and how much everybody missed you.”
“Crap. I didn’t know about any of that. I thought I – I was still officially just missing.” Lois paled slightly, then rallied. “Yeah, give her a few minutes to get used to the idea of me not being dead.” She sat down and pulled out another cancer stick. “I think we’ll both need the time.”
James brought the impromptu ashtray to her as a match flared to life. “We’ll need to call Perry White, too, and then you and Lucy can contact your parents.”
“My – my parents? They’re still around?” She swiveled her gaze between the two men. “Are they together or – can they even stand to be in the same room together?”
James laughed lightly. “You can ask them that when you see them. Let me just speak to Clark for a moment before he leaves.”
“Oh, yeah, sure, I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
The men walked out onto the patio. James pulled the door shut behind him and stood so that Clark could glance over his shoulder. “Is she listening to us?”
“Doesn’t look like it. Why?”
“I have to ask you this, Clark. It’s part of the reason I brought you here. Do you think this woman is Lois Lane?”
Clark hesitated. “I’d guess ‘yes’ but I’m not completely sure. There’s no evidence of plastic surgery on her face or her body, except for her fingerprints.”
“Fingerprints?”
“She doesn’t have any. I’m not certain, but I think they were surgically removed.”
James grimaced. “So we can’t prove or disprove that she’s Lois Lane.”
“If she’s not Lois Lane she’s Lois’ natural double. And she seems to know things that only the real Lois should know, like the former state of her parents’ relationship and how Lucy might react to this news.”
“That could also be quality research and some good acting.”
“It could be, yes.”
“But you’re not certain? Not either way?”
“I didn’t know her before she left for Africa, Jim, remember?”
“Right. I’d forgotten that.” James pursed his lips together. “Just for the record, I’m willing to believe she’s really Lois unless someone can prove to me that she isn’t.”
“Well, I sure can’t. In fact, I’m leaning that way myself.”
“Have you seen or heard anything to give you any doubts?”
Clark hesitated again. “Her speech patterns are a little off, like she hasn’t spoken much English for a while. I heard bits of foreign pronunciation, like the way she says ‘doctor’ or ‘man,’ like she’s been using a lot of French or Italian or even German. And before you ask, no, her accent and speech patterns aren’t quite like the ‘other’ Lois.”
“Good to know. One more question before you go.”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you think she’s telling us the truth?”
“You mean about where she’s been and what she’s been doing for the past seven years? She didn’t say very much about it.”
“No, she didn’t, and she changed the subject pretty quickly. But do you believe what little she did tell us?”
Clark looked through the wall again and saw her sitting on the couch, her arms folded across her chest, rocking to a rhythm only she could hear. “No. I don’t think she’s being anywhere close to truthful. I think there’s a whole lot more to her story than just being some criminal’s prisoner for over half a decade.”
“I agree with you.” James clapped him on the shoulder. “Now go and give Lucy the shock of her life.”
“Oh, thanks, I’m so looking forward to that.”
*****
Clark landed on his balcony and spun out of the spandex again. He took a deep breath and slid open the door.
Lucy was alone in the dining room, cleaning off the table. She looked up as he stepped in. “Hi. Pete and Lana had to make some business calls, so I walked them to the street and they took a cab back to their hotel. We saved you some cake.” She looked closer and frowned in concern. “Clark? Is everything okay?”
He closed his eyes for a moment and focused his mind. “No, it isn’t.”
She stopped. “What is it? Is someone we know hurt? Did someone – is someone dead?”
“No – no one I know has died today. That’s not it at all.” He took the plates out of her hands and put them on the table, then led her to the living room couch and sat her down. “Lucy, this is – well, it’s going to be a shock. I want you to get hold of yourself.”
She put her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. “Okay, Clark, I’m ready. You can tell me now.”
He sat beside her and held her hands. “Lucy – I’m sorry. I can’t think of a way to say this gently, so I’ll have to just blurt it out.” He took a deep breath of his own. “The call I got earlier was from James Olsen. There was someone in his office at the Daily Planet he wanted me to meet. In fact, she’s still there.” He hesitated, then lifted her hands to his lips and softly bussed them with his lips. “There’s a woman there who says she’s Lois Lane.”
Lucy’s eyes bulged and her face paled. Her breath caught and she stopped breathing. Then her pupils dilated and she lurched forward.
Clark caught her before she hit the floor. “Lucy! Lucy, I’m sorry!” He knelt in front of the couch and let her slide into his arms. “Lucy! Breathe, Luce, breathe!”
He thumped her back sharply, hoping she wasn’t so shocked she’d need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She gasped once, then gulped in a huge lungful of air and let it out in a piercing wail.
Her cry tore at his heart and he pulled her close. She clutched at his arms and back and dug her nails into his flesh hard enough to make him glad she couldn’t hurt him. Her eyes filled with tears and her body lurched in shock, but after a long few moments her breathing slowed and her color improved. Clark held her in his arms until she got herself under control and released her death grip on his shoulders.
She finally settled down enough to talk. “Clark, is it – is she – are you sure it’s really Lois?”
He frowned as she slowly released him. “I can’t be absolutely certain, but at this point in time I have no proof that she isn’t who she says she is.”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I mean – is this our Lois?”
“Huh?”
“You remember the ‘other Lois,’ the one who suddenly showed up for a few days and then had to ‘go back home?’ Is the Lois you met really from this – this dimension or reality or whatever ‘this’ is that we live in?”
“Oh.” He thought for a moment. “I suppose it’s possible she’s from some other reality, but I don’t think so. I just met her, but the impression I got was of someone who’s where she’s supposed to be. Universe-wise, that is.”
“I see.” She settled back against the couch. “So – what does this mean for – to you?”
Clark got the distinct impression that Lucy had almost asked a different question. “I don’t know what it means, except that we need to welcome her back. Assuming, of course, that she turns out to be the one and only real and actual Lois Lane.”
Lucy nodded. “Can I meet her? I mean, see her? Soon?”
He smiled. “Of course. Would you like to change?”
“What’s Lois wearing?”
“Jeans, sandals, and Western shirt. All of it looks, um, well-seasoned.”
Lucy looked down at the light blue wool-blend pantsuit and flat shoes she was wearing. “I think this will do. Just let me freshen up and I’ll be ready.”
*****
Lucy was glad Clark took it slow on the flight back to the Planet. He didn’t try to talk to her, either, for which she was also grateful. It gave her some time to think.
She wished fervently that the phone had rung a few minutes later – or even one minute later – than it had. Then she might have heard Clark tell her that he’d been thinking about her. He might even have kissed her, right smack on the mouth, so she could kiss him back and let him know how she felt about him, tell him how much she loved him.
Because she did love him. Lana had known without being told. Her insistence that Lucy tell Clark how she felt had irritated her at first, but Lucy was finally ready to admit that Lana was right.
When Lucy had first met him, years ago during his ultimately disappointing search for Lois, she’d been stunned by his presence, bowled over by his smile and his face and his body, and deeply impressed by all he could do. But as she’d spent time around him, she’d learned so much more about the man inside the red and blue suit. She’d been impressed by his determination and his single-minded pursuit, by his high ethical standards and his refusal to compromise them. She’d looked at her own lifestyle, compared it to his, and decided that living from struggling musician to starving artist to bit-part actor was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
She’d moved to Metropolis, at first to be close to him as a source and to be a sounding board when he followed up lead after lead that went nowhere while searching for Lois, but she stayed as a friend. She’d enrolled in college again, and this time she’d graduated with a B.A. in management information systems. She’d joined Wayne Information Services as a programmer trainee and had risen rapidly through the ranks. She’d even gotten a personal thank-you letter from Bruce Wayne himself for her hard work and excellent results.
Now she was self-sufficient, established, and finally grown up. She regretted her past and all the men who cluttered it up, but she also knew it was also part of who she was at this point in her life. She’d learned late – but she had learned – that men who primarily wanted to share a bed with her rarely, if ever, wanted to share anything else with her, including a future. She had helped her parents reconcile, and she had worked hard with them to restore their family. She and her parents had grieved for Lois together, and they’d learned to accept her loss.
She’d also watched Clark come to terms with the fact that Lois was gone forever, probably dead in an unmarked grave somewhere in central Africa. She herself had come to accept her sister’s death, worked past the self-blame and anger and realized how much she missed her big sister without allowing that loss to cripple her emotionally.
She’d even allowed herself to hope and dream that Clark would someday look down at her and see a woman who was willing to share his future, with all the attendant troubles and distractions inherent in Superman’s lifestyle. She wanted to share her life and her love with him, no matter what the cost.
But a simple phone call had quashed those dreams and stirred up a hornet’s nest of emotions inside her. First and foremost, she wanted Clark to be happy. She knew how he felt about Lois, or at least how he used to feel. If he still loved Lois – or still wanted to love her – then she’d step aside. She’d even help her sister learn all of Clark’s little foibles and quirks, like the way he’d tell a joke on her and step back so she couldn’t reach out and slap his arm playfully without chasing him, or how his eyes sparkled when he smiled at her, or how he still agonized over all the people he couldn’t save.
And she’d make sure Lois treated him right. If not – well, that didn’t bear thinking about at the moment.
Clark slowed and swung her to a vertical position before she realized they’d arrived. He touched down on the patio and set her gently on her feet, then took her elbow and guided her to the door.
He slid the door open for her. She blinked at the change of light levels, then saw a painfully thin brunette woman with a thin scar over her left eyebrow. Her cigarette hung loosely from her lips.
Cigarette? thought Lucy. Lois doesn’t smoke!
The woman turned and looked at her. Lucy stood two slow strides towards her and stood quivering for a long moment, then reached out.
“Lois?”
The brunette dropped the cigarette and crushed it on the carpet without looking away from Lucy’s face. Lucy glimpsed James Olsen’s slightly distressed expression, then the other woman reached out with her own trembling hands and grasped Lucy’s hands.
“P-Punky? Is that you? Is that really you?”
“Yes! It’s me! Oh, Sis! You—”
Lucy’s vision was washed out by her sudden tears. She lurched forward and grasped the taller woman around the ribs, then lifted her off the floor.
She’s so thin and light! Lucy marveled.
She put Lois down and leaned back. The two women wiped tears from each other’s eyes as they laughed and hugged and tried to speak but failed.
Lucy was barely aware that James and Clark slipped into the outer office together and closed the door behind them. She didn’t see the concerned expressions on their faces, or hear their whispered comments to each other. She only reveled in her sister’s seemingly miraculous resurrection.
