>>> from the journal of H. G. Wells
Something is assuredly amiss.
I have learned that, when I approached Lois Lane in Brussels, Belgium, she was not there on holiday, as she led me to believe. She was working under the direction of her brutal criminal captor, whom she told me was recently killed by his own bodyguards in an attempt to take over his illegal enterprises. This inconsistent information both puzzles and alarms me. Why is Lois doing the man’s bidding if he is no longer alive? If he is not dead, why did Lois attempt to make me believe that he is dead? And if he did not author this scheme, who has done so?
I have not determined why she was in Belgium or what her mission was, but she was not convinced of my veracity until I actually transported her through space with my machine. Even then, her reluctance was evident, until I informed her that we were on the outskirts of Gotham City, and that she was but a relatively brief bus ride from Metropolis.
Even now I can see the faraway expression which settled on her face. It was as if she was remembering a time, or perhaps a place, where she felt confident and in control, where she was mistress of her own fate. Or, it might have been a longing for the Lois Lane she had been prior to her ill-fated journey to the darkness of the Congo. Or perhaps I am indulging in romantic fantasy.
At any rate, I was encouraged to learn that she had enough American money to purchase lodging, a meal, and transportation to the city which she adopted as her home so many years ago.
I only wish she had been looking forward to it with more enthusiasm.
And that I had more confidence in my own judgement.
>>>
James softly pulled his office door shut and turned to his secretary. “No calls, please, Mrs. Cox. Clark and I will be in conference room two if you need either of us.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
James flipped on the lights in the conference room and pulled the door almost shut, leaving an opening large enough for either of them to hear if Lois or Lucy came out of his office.
He gestured for Clark to sit down. “What do you think now?”
Clark shook his head. “I think Lucy believes she’s who she says she is. And I trust Lucy’s judgment.”
James nodded. “I agree with you on that point. I’m still not convinced she’s told us the whole truth about where she’s been and what she’s been doing.”
“Did the two of you talk while I was gone?”
James made a steeple with his fingers. “I tried. She dodged and bobbed and weaved more than anything else, but she did say that she’d spent a significant amount of time in the Middle East and in India, and I don’t think either trip was for religious reasons or for personal enlightenment.”
Clark gave a humorless chuckle. “You’re getting cynical in your young age.”
“You really think so?”
“If you can’t take the word of a woman who appears after more than seven years of being presumed dead and three years after being declared legally dead, who hasn’t claimed to be an amnesia victim, and who has thus far declined to give a reasonable explanation of her absence, whose word can you trust?”
“Now who’s being cynical?”
“I call it being cautious.” Clark spun his chair in a complete circle. “What did she talk about while I was gone?”
James leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Mostly about Lucy and her parents, how she was looking forward to seeing them again. She mentioned you a couple of times, but just in passing. I didn’t get the impression she was trying to fool anyone about who she really is.”
“So, we’re going to take her on faith for now?”
James blew out a long breath. “Yes. I really don’t see any other choice, but I also want to be very careful. Oh, I almost forgot something.” He stood and opened the door. “Mrs. Cox?”
She turned and smiled. “Yes, Mr. Olsen?”
“Would you call Dr. Frazier and schedule a visit for Miss Lane? See if you can get her in this afternoon, or early tomorrow morning if that’s not possible.”
“A general checkup or something more involved, sir?”
“Good question.” He thought for a moment. “This needs to be as complete a physical as she can give. Oh, and would you also tell the doctor that this is for a prospective employee and not give her a name?”
“Of course, sir. Anything else?”
“Not right now, Mrs. Cox. Thank you.”
“Of course, sir.” She turned to her computer and punched up a data record, then picked up the phone and began dialing.
James pulled the door almost shut again. Clark drummed his fingers on the table. “That young lady is most efficient.”
“Yeah, she is. I’d have a lot harder time trying to run the Planet and stay on top of my financial interests if she weren’t sitting at that desk. She’s light years ahead of the woman who was there before her.”
“Have you told her that?”
James looked genuinely shocked. “Of course I have. What kind of employer do you think I am?”
Clark grinned. “A good one who jumps whenever I yank his chain.”
“Har-de-har-har. Johnnie Letterman must be losing sleep worrying about you.”
There was a soft knock on the conference room door, then Dominique Cox pushed it open. “Excuse me, Mr. Olsen? Dr. Frazier has an opening at three o’clock today. She was a little leery at not having a name, but I told her I didn’t have it and she accepted that. She’s ready to examine an anonymous thirty-something woman.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Cox. Good job.”
Her mahogany face beamed at the praise. “That’s what I’m here for, sir.”
*****
Lucy and Lois sat together on the floor, alternately caressing and embracing each other for what seemed like hours before either of them could speak coherently.
Lois recovered first. “So – Punky – what’s my baby sister been doing for the last few years?”
Lucy rubbed her face dry. “Oh, Lois, there’s so much! I work for Wayne Information Services now as – what’s the matter?”
Lois’s eyes suddenly bulged. “You work for Bruce Wayne?”
“Yes, I’m assistant manager of programming here in – what’s wrong? What is it?”
“You’re working for that playboy?”
Lucy grinned. “Maybe he used to be a playboy, but he brings his A-game to the boardroom every day now. We have top of the line hardware and software and all the tools we need to run a very efficient and productive operation. Why?”
Lois visibly controlled herself. “Nothing. Really, Luce, it’s nothing. Go on, tell me more.”
“Okay. I’m the Metropolis data center assistant manager. I just had my five-year anniversary and—”
“Five years! Wow.”
Lucy smiled. “I know. I used to mark the duration of my jobs with an egg timer.”
Lois scrunched one side of her mouth. “Oh, Punky, I’m so sorry I ever said that to you!”
“You were right, though. I was the quintessential butterfly back then.”
“You’re obviously not now. Hey, what about a boyfriend?”
Lucy blushed slightly. “No. I – I think I’ve taken a sabbatical from men.”
“Oh. Uh, does that mean you have a girlfriend now?”
“What! No! No, I still like men, it’s just – I’m not so sure they like me. At least, not for the right reasons.”
Lois rearranged her feet yoga-style. “What about Superblueman out there?”
“Who? Oh, Clark!” Lucy tried to laugh. “Oh, no, no, he, um, Clark and I are just friends. Good friends, you know, but – just friends.”
Lois fixed her with a glare. “Uh-huh. He knew exactly where you were, though, didn’t he?”
“Sure he did. I was at his place.”
The glare was joined by raised eyebrows. “I see. You were at his place. As his good friend.”
Lucy tried to glare back. “You’ve got it all wrong! We were having lunch with some old friends of Clark’s, a couple from his home town. We were all there when he got the call that – that you were back in town.” Lucy leaned towards her sister and lowered her voice. “What happened to you, Lois? Where have you been for all these years? What have you been doing?”
A brittle hardness came over Lois’s face. “I’m – not ready to tell you that. And I’m pretty sure you’re not ready to hear it.”
Lucy gentled her voice even more. “We need to know. And you need to tell us.”
“I need to forget it. The past few years haven’t exactly been a vacation for me.”
“That’s why you need to talk about it. You can’t keep it bottled up inside you. It’ll burst out when you least expect it to.”
Lois stood abruptly. She winced slightly and visibly tried not to grab her left knee. “I think someone mentioned my seeing a doctor today. I’d kinda like to get that over with as soon as possible.”
“Sure, Lois.” Lucy stood beside her and smiled. “Hey, can you at least tell me about why your hair is so short?”
Lois’s eyes took on the consistency of granite. “It was mostly burned off in a fire almost two years ago. I got used to short hair. It’s easier to keep clean.”
A bad lie, but one which Lucy decided to let slide for now. “Okay. How about I check on the doctor’s appointment?”
Lois’s face relaxed and some animation returned to her eyes. “Sure. I need to take a – find the ladies’ room anyway.”
Lucy followed Lois through Mr. Olsen’s office door. Mrs. Cox was in her customary place, smiling as usual. “Hello, Lucy. Oh, Miss Lane, your doctor’s appointment is today at three o’clock. Is that okay?”
Lois frowned and put a hand on her hip. “Let me check my social calendar, okay, sweetheart?”
Lucy was startled by the sharp edge in Lois’s voice. “It’s fine, Dominique. I’ll take her, unless Mr. Olsen has something else planned.”
“I’ll check, but I think he was anticipating you and your sister going together.”
Lois barked, “Hey, Chocolate! Where’s the women’s bathroom?”
Dominique’s expression didn’t waver a millimeter. “Out this door, ma’am, down the hall to the left, third doorway on the right.”
Lois looked at Lucy. “I’ll be back in a flash.”
As Lois pushed through the door and disappeared down the hall, Lucy said, “Dominique, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what got into her. She was never like that when – before she – I mean—”
Dominique smiled more warmly. “It’s okay, Lucy. I’ve heard lots worse.”
“But you shouldn’t hear it at all! That was so wrong.”
“I’d rather hear it and know it was there than wonder.”
“Oh.” Lucy lowered her voice. “Dominique – do you think I – do you wonder about me?”
Dominique smiled and shook her head. “No, Lucy. I’ve known you for over three years, and you have a good heart and you really don’t care what shade my skin is. Neither does Mr. Olsen.” Dominique leaned closer. “And neither does Clark Kent. You’d be wise to hang on to him, girl. He’s a keeper, for sure.”
Lucy blushed again. “Oh, Clark’s not interested in me like that!”
“Really?” Dominique canted her head to one side and quirked one eyebrow. “Then he’s not anywhere near as smart as everybody says he is.”
Lucy had just opened her mouth to insist once again that she and Clark were just friends when James Olsen opened the conference room door. “Do either of you ladies know where Lois is?”
Lucy pointed to the hallway door. “In the ladies’ room. She’ll be back in a moment.”
“Good. Mrs. Cox, Clark and I are going to out to eat tonight. Would you care to join us, or do you already have dinner plans?”
Dominique’s customary smile fell away and she looked flustered for the first time in Lucy’s memory. “Dinner? With – Well, uh, I, uh, no, I, uh, don’t, uh—”
He walked to her desk and smiled. “It’s okay, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to or if you already have plans. Clark was just tweaking me about not letting you know how much I value your contribution to this office, and I decided he was right. And, to make sure you know that this is not a clumsy attempt at romance, Clark’s coming whether you do or not. If you don’t come, it won’t show up as a negative item in your performance review, I promise.”
She recovered from the surprise. “And will it show up in my review as a positive item if I do come?”
He stood as tall as he could and crossed his arms. “Only if you don’t spill anything on me.”
She laughed. “I think I can control myself that far, at least. I’ll call my roommate and let her know I have a date with the boss.”
“Uh, this really isn’t a date, it’s more like an appreciation dinner—”
Clark came up behind James and put his hand on the publisher’s shoulder. “Mr. Olsen thanks you, Dominique, and I’ll be there to make sure he doesn’t embarrass you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kent. Are we driving or flying to dinner?”
“I don’t know. Dominique, would you mind standing up for me?”
She stood and turned as if modeling her dress for him. He smiled and shook his head. “I think we’d better drive. That’s a very attractive outfit, but I don’t think you should wear it while flying with me. Your modesty might get a little wind-blown.”
She smoothed her dress against her legs and grinned. “You’re right, of course. Mr. Olsen, shall I call for your driver to pick us up at five-thirty?”
James raised his hands to shoulder height and then dropped them. “Nuts. Outmaneuvered again. Sure, five-thirty is fine. I’d planned to go sort of dressy-casual, so you’ll fit right in. Can you leave right from work?”
“Of course. Let me make those calls.”
Lois pushed back through the door as Dominique lifted the phone. “Okay, Luce, I’m ready to go see the doctor. How do we get there?”
Lucy smiled and took Lois’s arm. “We walk down to the street and call for a cab. Couldn’t be simpler.”
Lois’s eyes popped open in alarm. “Cab? I can’t take a cab!” She yanked her arm free. “Cabs are – I mean, why can’t SuperClark take us? Why can’t he – well, he flew you, can’t he fly both of us?”
Lucy frowned. “Clark has other plans, Lois. Besides, cabs aren’t any more dangerous now than they were before you – before you left.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Lois turned to Clark and put her hands on her hips. “So, can you?”
Clark lifted an eyebrow as Lucy reached out to touch her sister’s arm. “Lois, I don’t think—”
As Lucy touched Lois’s elbow, Lois snapped a kick at Lucy’s lower leg, then spun and cocked her fist for a punch. Lucy cried out and fell to one knee as Lois aimed a blow to her face.
The punch came up short. Clark put his hand in front of Lois’s fist and caught it as gently as he could.
Lois’s eyes grew wide and she drew back in shock. “Wh – Lucy! Oh, Lucy, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry please I’m so sorry—”
Lucy held her hand up. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” She winced. “I think.”
Clark took Lucy’s outstretched hand and lifted her from the floor. Lois clenched her fists and crossed her arms across her chest. As she stood in that position, Lucy could see her force the tension from her body.
Lois finally lifted damp eyes to her sister’s. “Lucy. Please. I – I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, really. It – it was a reflex response.”
Lucy leaned on Clark’s arm until her leg could take her weight. “What happened? Did I startle you?”
“Well – yeah, you did. It’s hard for me to – to hold back. Those reflexes have saved my life more than a couple of times.”
Lucy nodded and flexed her knee. “Nothing’s broken, at least. But I think I’ll have a lovely bruise on that shin tomorrow.” She winced and caught her breath. “I’m just glad I had most of my weight on my other leg.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“Lois, I said I’m okay. Really. You don’t have to apologize again.” She took a couple of experimental steps. “Yeah, it’ll be sore, but I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” She turned to Clark. “Hey, you really are fast. Or were you looking for something like that?”
Clark shook his head. “No. You took me completely by surprise with the kick. I barely had time to react to the punch.”
“Still, you’re very fast. Um, just how quick are you?”
He crossed his arms. “You know, I never know how to answer that question. Why don’t we just leave it at ‘very fast’ and move on from there?”
Lois raised her voice. “Because I want to know—”
Lucy held her hand up. “I know a way.” She limped to Dominique’s desk and picked up a pen, then handed it to Lois. “Hold this.”
Lois frowned. “Hold it how?”
“Extend your arm and grasp the point, loosely. That’s it. Now dangle it down.”
“Like that?”
“That’s it. Now start counting.”
Lois raised her eyebrows. “Counting?”
“You remember counting, don’t you? One, two, three—”
“Yes I remember!” She took a deep breath. “One, two, three, four, five—”
Lucy nodded. “Any time, Clark.”
“—six, seven, eight, ni – hey! Where’s the pen?”
Clark held it up between his fingers for a moment, then put it back on Dominique’s desk.
Lois was suitably impressed. “Wow. I did not see you move. I did not feel the pen leave my fingers. I didn’t hear a thing. It was right here in my hand, and then in the next instant you had it.” She gave Clark another once-over. “Wow. That is really fast.”
He grinned. “I thought we were going to call me ‘very fast.’”
“Yeah.” Lois smiled. Her expression reminded Lucy of a leopard sizing up its prey. “I think ‘very fast’ is more than apt. What else can you do?”
Lucy held her hand up. “You can interrogate Clark later, okay? You still have a doctor’s appointment to keep.”
Lois nodded and smiled at Clark again. “My secretary is calling. I’ll see you later, hot stuff.” She followed Lucy through the door, walking as seductively as her attire and her injuries allowed.
*****
H. G. Wells sat in the coffee house across from the Daily Planet, sipping his low-fat latte and smiling to himself. He was relatively satisfied with Miss Lane’s progress thus far, and he envisioned a spring wedding for her and Clark. He had convinced himself that his misgivings about Lois Lane were of little or no consequence.
As he contemplated how he might attend such an event without disturbing the timeline, he suddenly realized that a thin, dour-faced man wearing wire-framed glasses had sat down across the table from him. And an attractive but stern-looking blonde woman had sat down beside him, effectively trapping him in the booth.
“Hello,” he ventured. “Might I purchase a beverage for each of you?”
The man stared at him for a moment, then said, “You’re H. G. Wells, aren’t you?”
Startled, Wells drew back. “My word! How did you come to that conclusion, sir? I believe the worthy gentleman to whom you are referring passed away in nineteen forty-six.”
The woman leaned back and crossed her arms. “You’re right, Bill, he is slippery. I bet I can get him to talk, though.”
“Easy, Mayson. Mr. Wells, we’re police detectives, but we’re not here on official business. We just want to have a conversation with you.”
Ah. Bill Henderson and Mayson Drake. Now he thought he knew who they were. Wells nodded and said, “If I could be assured of your identities, please?”
“You want to see our badges, Mr. Wells?”
“If you please, sir, yes.”
Bill sighed and flipped out his wallet. “Detective William Henderson, Metropolis Police Department, homicide division.” He flipped the wallet shut and pocketed it. “My partner, Detective Mayson Drake, same unit.”
Wells frowned. “I do not understand. Has someone been murdered?”
“No,” answered Mayson, “and we don’t want anyone to get murdered. We caught the case back when that Tempus guy tried to blow up City Hall and all the people in it. I was a uniformed rookie then, Mr. Wells, and I saw you with that bomb plain as day.”
“What! But I was trying to disarm it!”
“That’s what everybody said on the record, including Superman, so we had no reason to hold you or spend too much time looking for you. But the last time you showed up, we nearly had a disaster here.”
“Please! I assure you, I intend no harm to anyone!”
“Do you read much, Mr. Wells? For pleasure, I mean.”
Bill’s question threw him. “Read – read what, for instance?”
“I assume you knew Mr. Tolkien? Personally, I mean.”
“I have read most of his works, Detective Henderson,” Wells answered cautiously.
“Do you remember an uncomplimentary name for Gandalf, the wizard in the Lord of the Rings books? One of the riders of Rohan, I think, who Gandalf was trying to warn of the coming danger, mocked him and called him Storm-Crow, because whenever Gandalf showed up, trouble followed close behind.” Henderson leaned his elbows on the table and fixed Wells with a gimlet stare. “Are you a storm-crow, Mr. Wells?”
Wells licked his lips and looked from Henderson to Drake and back again. There was no gentleness in either detective’s expression. “I have no intention of bringing trouble to anyone. I only wish to right a wrong done years ago.”
Mayson snorted. “You can’t fix everything and everybody, Mr. Wells. Can you go back in time and make sure my parents don’t get cheated out of their life savings so I have the money to go to law school instead of settling for the police academy? No, you can’t. Can you go back and make sure President Heston gets elected the first time he runs instead of the second? No, you can’t.” She leaned closer to him and growled, “So stop being such a goody-two-shoes! Some wrongs just can’t be made right.”
Wells leaned against the window, away from her vehement outburst. “Please excuse my partner, Mr. Wells,” said Henderson. “She’s still passionate about her job even after all these years. Even if she – settled – for being a cop instead of a lawyer.”
“Oh, I quite understand. I am not offended in the least.”
“Good. Then Mayson and I will be on our way.”
“Before you go, detectives, I was wondering how you located and identified me.”
“Through the Justice League.”
“I’m sorry, the what?”
Mayson smiled with little humor. “That’s the name the cops gave the detail that watches over Clark Kent. Every rookie who comes on the force spends a few weeks with the unit. They record everyone who comes by Kent’s building or the Daily Planet or approaches him on the street. That way, every cop in the city knows something about his habits and loses some of that scared hero worship, and Superman gets a chance to see him or her.” Her smile melted away. “You showed up on the League’s radar for the first time yesterday afternoon, right here in this Starways. It seems you really like the cocoanut latte.”
“Yes, well – I assure you that I have no evil motives or intentions toward Clark Kent or anyone acquainted with him. I wish only for his good health to continue and for his happiness to grow.”
“That’s good to hear. Thank you for your time, Mr. Wells,” said Henderson. He and Mayson stood beside the booth for a moment before Bill said, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again soon.”
Not if I divine your presence first, Wells thought with some asperity.
