>>> from the journal of H. G. Wells
I am experiencing difficulty checking in with the Bureau. There is no video connection, and the audio connection is intermittent. I am at a loss to explain why those things might be. My communications unit has passed its internal diagnostic tests, but it still will not allow me to consult in depth with my nominal superiors.
The only other time anything similar to this has happened to me was when Tempus trapped poor Clark in time and we nearly lost him. But during that event, I completely lost contact with the Utopians. This situation does not exhibit the same indicators. I know they are still there, but we cannot see each other or speak clearly enough to gather information from each other. I will try again later.
And I am burdened by the knowledge I have gained about Lois Lane. She is not the woman I have met in the other universes. I have not been able to trace all of her movements between the time she disappeared in the Congo and the moment when I rescued her, but there are many aspects of her life which I fear will interfere with her relationship with Clark.
I hope she did not bring her pistol with her in the time machine. I now regret my failure to scan her luggage for contraband items, but her two small suitcases and shoulder bag seemed innocent enough.
In addition, I am constrained to be as invisible as possible by the knowledge of me held by the Metropolis police. Having met both William Henderson and Mayson Drake in several different realities – although I have never before met her as a police officer – I know that both of them are relentless in their pursuit of justice. Should I make an error here, or make myself too visible, I have no doubt that they will move against me, if not arrest and incarcerate me.
>>>
James, Clark, and Dominique stepped out of the limo and walked right past the doorman at the Metropolis Men’s Club, earning fierce stares and exclamations of surprise from the group waiting for entry. Clark shook his head and said, “Are we getting in because of James Olsen or because of Superman?”
James grinned up at him. “Me. Unless you have a membership here.”
“Nope. Wait, maybe it’s Dominique. She could class up any joint.”
She laughed lightly. “I doubt it. I’ve not been here before.”
James stuck his thumbs under his lapels and puffed up his chest. “Then give credit where credit is due, good people. They like me. They really like me!”
All three shared a gentle chuckle as the maitre’d showed them to their table. The waiter had just left with their drink orders when another couple was led to a table beside them.
James lost his smile as the waiter seated the woman at the other table. “Hello, Lex.”
Luthor turned and smiled expansively. “Why, hello, James. This must be Mr. Kent, also known as Superman. It’s good to finally meet you.”
Clark took Luthor’s hand and shook it cautiously. “Hello, sir.”
“Please, call me Lex. And who is this stunning beauty gracing your table? Surely, my dear, you aren’t with either of these two gentlemen.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Lex Luthor, at your service, my dear.”
Dominique smiled tightly. “Dominique Cox, Mr. Luthor.”
“Charmed. Oh, how terribly rude of me. Please, allow me to introduce Dr. Arianna Carlin, my wife. Arianna, this is James Olsen of the Daily Planet, Clark Kent, who sometimes calls himself Superman, and the lovely Dominique Cox.”
James and Clark both rose and bowed ever so slightly. Clark asked, “What is your specialty, Dr. Carlin?”
“I am a psychiatrist, Mr. Kent. I specialize in psychotic criminal behavior.”
“I see. Taking a break from the grind tonight?”
“Excuse me?”
Clark gestured at the interior of the restaurant. “I assume you aren’t doing field research here.”
Luthor lifted his head and smiled broadly as if he were sharing Clark’s jest. Arianna’s expression and voice suddenly reminded Clark of an ancient glacier. “If you please, Mr. Kent, Lex and I are here for some light diversion and a pleasant meal. That plan does not include conversing with such as you. Good evening.”
Clark lifted his eyebrows at Luthor, who gave him an apologetic smile and a slow nod. “My apologies for disturbing you, Dr. Carlin. Please enjoy your evening.”
She leaned towards Luthor and whispered, “I want another table.”
“But Arianna, this is one of—”
“Now, Lex.”
Lex nodded. “Of course.” He waved for a waiter. “I’m sorry, the lady and I would prefer another table. Perhaps one with better lighting is available.”
“Of course. Mr. Luthor, Dr. Carlin, would you come with me, please?”
Dominique watched them leave from behind her menu. “Brr. I’m glad this is late spring. That woman is colder than a brass monkey in January.”
James nodded. “She makes Batman look like a Cost Mart greeter.”
The waiter appeared that moment, bringing drinks and an offer of appetizers or salad. Clark ordered shrimp cocktail, James chose lobster-stuffed crab, and Dominique agreed to a Caesar salad with no dressing.
She excused herself to visit the ladies’ room. Clark and James stood as she left, then seated themselves.
James attacked the wheat loaf with great vigor. Observing his actions, Clark asked, “Why didn’t you just give the bread a bad performance review?”
“What?”
“I doubt it can survive your assault much longer.”
James stopped and looked at the knife in his hand, then allowed himself a guilty smirk. “Sorry. Lex Luthor just pushes my ‘irritate’ button.”
“It looks like he must have pounded on it recently.”
“Yeah, actually, he has. The trucker’s union has been making noises about a strike unless the Planet raises the wages and benefits for all the drivers and loading dock people, and Lex was quoted yesterday on LNN saying that those folks deserve every penny they’re asking for.”
“So? The union knows that Lex Luthor doesn’t speak for the Daily Planet.”
“No, he doesn’t, and yes, they know that, but his timing couldn’t have been much worse. We were supposed to discuss a compromise proposal this morning. The meeting was scheduled before Luthor made his statement, and as of ten-thirty this morning, the union’s negotiation team refused to finalize the deal, saying that the rank and file members wanted all their original demands met, and if Lex Luthor thought they deserved a raise it had to be a good idea, and they wanted every penny of what they’d demanded.” James sighed. “I don’t want to seem like a miser, Clark, but the Planet can’t remain profitable if I give in on all their demands. They’ve refused to meet with us since then unless I state that I’m willing give them everything they want. But doing so would put the Planet in the red unless I cut other people’s salaries and benefits, and I can’t seem to make them understand that. I’m just not willing to make the union leaders look good for a few months and then take everyone’s job away.”
“Can’t you use non-union people?”
“Legally, yes, we can, but I don’t want the bad publicity or the potential for violence that goes along with using strike-breakers. You remember what happened two years ago with the city garbage collectors, don’t you?”
“That was caused by just a few agitators from out of state, Jim! The truckers for the Planet won’t be that stupid.”
James shrugged. “I don’t know whether they would or not, but I don’t want to risk it. I’m going to try to wait them out, then try to get them to agree to something close to what we had a few weeks ago. I just hope they go for it.”
Dominique glided to their table just as their drink orders appeared. She favored both men with a gold-medal smile. “Say, I must live right. Two handsome men having dinner with little ol’ me.” She waved to them as they stood. “Please don’t get up, gentlemen. I’m a big girl and I can pull out my own chair.”
Clark sat down again, but James gently insisted. “It’s not a comment on your intelligence or abilities, Mrs. Cox, but an acknowledgement of your grace and beauty, and recognition of the fact that you bring up the attractiveness quotient at this table by several orders of magnitude.”
She focused her smile on James and almost blinded him. “In that case, Mr. Olsen, I accept your courtesy and thank you for it.”
Clark watched, amused, as James tried to speak but had to remind himself to breathe first. “Ah. You’re more than welcome.” He waited for her to be seated, then took his chair again. “And I think you can call me James while we’re here.”
“Just while we’re here?”
He smiled and nodded. “This is a social engagement, not a professional one. If we can keep it light, I think things would go more smoothly.”
She nodded back. “Thank you, James. Please call me Dominique. While we’re being social, that is.”
“I will, Dominique. And thank you.” He sat beside her. “I promise not to abuse the privilege.”
Their waiter chose that moment to bring their appetizers and salads. Clark picked up his menu and said, “Could we have a couple more minutes to look this over?”
The young man nodded. “Of course, sir. I’ll be back when you’re ready.”
Dominique picked up her own menu as the waiter left, and the three of them decided on their meals. After ordering and surrendering their menus, Clark said, “Dominique, would it upset you if I asked you about your husband?”
Gazing around at the room, she said, “I’m no longer married.”
“I knew that much already. Would it bother you to tell me what happened to him, and why you’re no longer married?”
She glanced sharply at him. “Maybe a little. Why would you ask?”
“Because I don’t know. And because I like to know more about my friends. I’ve found that the more I know about them, the better friend I can be.”
She waited a moment, then nodded slowly. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for me to tell y’all about this. I’m originally from southwest Louisiana, a little bump-in-the-road town you’ve never heard of just south of Lake Charles. Mitch and I got married right after I graduated high school. He’d dropped out before his senior year to work at his father’s auto body shop, and I got a job as a receptionist in a dentist’s office.”
She sighed. “After a year or so, Mitch decided he wasn’t making enough money in the auto body business, so he robbed several convenience stores and a couple of gas stations.” She stopped and drank some water. “He took off running north and never made it home that weekend. The police cornered him in Shreveport and arrested him. He’s serving a minimum of twenty-five years for armed robbery, assault on several police officers, possession of a number of unlicensed weapons, and various other crimes.”
Clark’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s a lot of time for a first offense, even with those charges.”
“Yes, it is, but he was almost uncontrollable during the trial, wouldn’t talk to the district attorney or the psychologists even when his lawyer advised him to, got into several fights in the holding area, and tried to grab a bailiff’s gun during his lawyer’s closing statement. The judge threw the book at him, didn’t even give him credit for time already served.”
James squirmed in his chair and almost reached for her hand, but stopped himself just before he touched her. “I’m sorry, Dominique. I had no idea you’d gone through all that.”
“Thank you.” She shifted in her seat and dropped her gaze. “I went to see him before the trial. He told me he’d get off on some technicality, which of course he didn’t. As I was leaving, his girlfriend walked in and we had a big argument and I almost got arrested for assault and battery right there in the prison visiting area. After he was convicted, I found out he’d been seeing her the whole time we’d been married, and he’d gone on this robbery spree to get enough money to run off with her.”
She leaned back and crossed her arms. “I divorced him about the time he started serving his sentence. Last I heard, the girlfriend got married to someone else. Mitch is out of my life forever and I’ll regret my lousy judgment for the rest of my days.”
Her story stunned the two men into silence. James finally said, “I’m truly sorry, Dominique.”
“For what? You didn’t have anything to do with it. And you didn’t know.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m sorry you had to be clobbered like that. Everybody eventually learns that life isn’t just a bowl of cherries, but it’s no fun being whacked over the head with the empty bowl as a part of the lesson.”
She stared at him for a moment, then forced her lips together and started shaking, first slightly and then progressively harder. James looked at Clark as if to ask him what to do with a hysterical dinner guest. Clark raised his eyebrows and shrugged microscopically as if to reply that he had no idea what to do and he was sorry he’d begun the conversation in the first place.
Then a splutter escaped Dominique’s lips. It blossomed into a guffaw, which mutated into a cackle, which finally morphed into a full belly laugh. The neighboring diners glanced over for a moment then looked away. Some were amused either by the young woman’s laughter or the mule-kicked expressions of her two male companions. Others were scandalized that such hilarity was being allowed to escape into the eye of the public in such a cosmopolitan establishment. A few simply didn’t care.
Dominique finally regained control of herself. Cautiously, James asked, “Are you okay now?”
She favored him with another mega-watt smile. “Yes, thank you. I was laughing at the mental picture you created. I envisioned myself taking that bowl of cherries and whacking Mitch smack on top of the head with it, and it felt great!” She chuckled, then gently touched James’ arm. “Thank you again, James.”
James smiled softly. “You’re welcome, Dominique.”
It was a private moment than none of them had anticipated. Clark felt like an interloper as he watched James being drawn into Dominique’s gentle smile. He grinned to himself as he watched two of his friends touch on something that might lead somewhere, someday, and he sighed to himself as he thought about his own private life.
Just how much change did Lois Lane bring? How much should he expect to see happen to him? And what about Lucy? Were his feelings for her real, were they mixed up somehow with the very real friendship they had together, or was there something more there?
And did Lois Lane carry the other part of him, as H. G. Wells had led him to believe? Why hadn’t he felt that ping of recognition, that sense of connection, when he’d seen her? What was she hiding from them?
Just who was this universe’s Lois Lane?
Clark shook his head. Speculation such as this would make him a horrible dinner companion, although it might not matter to James and Dominique. Clark looked up and saw the waiter headed their way, laden with food. He cleared his throat a little louder than necessary and said, “Here comes dinner, you two. I hope you’ve still got room for it.”
James and Dominique both seemed to recover from their respective swoons at the same time. “Room for it?” asked Dominique. “I’ve barely had a chance to touch my salad.”
His lopsided smile tipped her off and she started smiling again. “Actually, I was thinking about all those cherry pits on the ground.”
“Cherry pits on the ground?” James burst out.
“From that bowl of cherries. I’ll bet Mitch has a terrible headache right about now.”
The waiter handed out their meals and hoped their gales of laughter portended a generous tip.
*****
Dr. Tamara Frazier stepped back from the examining table and nodded. “We’re all done now, Miss Lane. I’ll write a prescription for those antibiotics for you. Make sure you follow the directions.”
Still sitting on the exam table, Lois asked, “Is it okay if I get dressed?”
“Sure. I’ll just wait out here with your sister.”
Lois froze. “Wait just a minute, Doc! You’re not going to tell her anything about me, are you?”
Dr. Frazier frowned. “No, of course not. These are your own very private, very personal medical records. Legally, I’m not allowed to pass on any personal information to anyone without your written permission.”
Lois nodded. “Good. You let me tell her all that’s wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you that good nutrition, regular exercise, and cutting out smoking wouldn’t cure. You already know, of course, that your musculature is well-developed, so I know you already work out some. You’re a little underweight but basically healthy, other than the localized infection, and the antibiotics should take care of that.”
Lois stood carefully. “Good to know.”
“Of course. You have to take care of yourself so you can take care of your child. Do you have more than one or—”
Lois’ voice was suddenly flat and hard. “Are you telling me that I’m pregnant?”
“Oh, no, you’re not pregnant. I just saw that you’ve had at least one—”
Within the blink of an eye, Tamara Frazier’s face was pressed against the examining room wall and her wrist was twisted up between her shoulder blades. Lois’s voice was an acid hiss. “Listen to me very carefully, Doctor Tamara Frazier. You will not repeat what you just said. You will not write it down anywhere. You will not hint about it to anyone. You will keep it to yourself for the rest of your life or I will hunt you down and kill you.”
Tamara panted from shock. “Miss Lane, I assure you – ahh!“
Lois pressed harder. “Did you hear what I said, Doctor? I will kill you. You will die messily and painfully over a very long period of time and they will have to search diligently to find all the pieces.”
“Please—”
Lois twisted Tamara’s wrist to within a millimeter of shattering under the pressure. “Did you hear me?”
“Agghh! Y – yes. Yes! I heard you!”
“You’re certain?”
“I’m sure! Ahh! Yes! I heard you!”
Lois slowly released the doctor’s wrist. “Good.” She stepped back. “Thank you for that comprehensive examination, Doctor Frazier. I’ll get dressed now, if that’s okay with you.”
Trembling, Tamara turned around and looked into her patient’s face. The woman’s icy stone eyes spoke of pain, of anguish, of relentless retribution, of the end of existence. For the first time in her life, Tamara Frazier was afraid of instant, immediate, and imminent death.
Lois Lane’s eyes were those of a monster.
She nodded and slid slowly towards the door. “T-take your time, Miss Lane. Take – you just take all the time you need.”
“Doctor!”
Tamara’s hand froze on the doorknob and her bowels threatened to give way. “Y-yes?”
“Will you give that prescription to Lucy? I’m sure she’ll be able to find a good pharmacy.”
Tamara nodded abruptly. “Yes. Yes, I’ll give it to her.”
“Good.” Lois waited a beat, then added, “I’ll be out in a moment.”
Tamara slipped through the door and drew it shut behind her. She forced herself to breathe normally and ordered her knees not to collapse underneath her.
After a very long moment, she felt almost strong enough to walk. She passed Lucy and handed her the prescription without saying a word to her. She felt hollow and weak inside, as if someone had removed her internal organs with a hot spoon and replaced them with Jell-O. She took three more steps before she was sure she wouldn’t burst out crying right there in the hallway.
Fear. She felt raw, naked, uncompromising fear. Terror had drained her heart of blood and frozen her courage. Shock had slapped any thinking ability far, far away from the vicinity of her brain. Dread of that woman and her capacity for sudden violence followed her to her office and sat down next to her, even with the door locked. Panic nibbled at the edges of her consciousness and threatened to overwhelm her.
Lois Lane was a monster, the beast from her childhood night terrors, the creature slithering through her dreams to clasp her and draw her down into a cold, watery grave. She was more terrifying than the creatures from H. P. Lovecraft’s horror tales. That face was one she’d see in her nightmares for the rest of her life. It was a face that would haunt her as she slipped into fitful slumber and as she lurched awake from the haunting visions which would bedevil her every time she closed her eyes.
Tamara could not have been more terrified at that moment and remained sane.
She curled up on her office sofa and crushed a pillow to her chest for childish comfort, then pressed her face deep into the fabric. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to release her sobs. She didn’t want her co-workers to see her in this state. She felt more helpless than a two-year-old alone in a room with a habitual child molester.
If Tamara Frazier never saw Lois Lane again for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be long enough.
*****
Lois finished dressing and walked out of the exam room. “Ready to go, Punky?”
Her sister snapped her head around and stared at Lois for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Sure. I have your prescription.”
Lois smiled and nodded. “So let’s go.”
As they walked out of the building, Lois thought about how weird this assignment was shaping up. When she’d left Johannesburg for Brussels to wait for her target, she hadn’t factored in a goofy little guy with a psychedelic movie prop who would take her close to Metropolis. Or meeting her sister again, something she was absolutely forbidden to do. Or the prospect of meeting her parents once more. Or learning about and then meeting Superman, or Clark Kent, whatever he called himself.
Her decision to sit in Wells’ nutty back-to-the-future-looking sled had been one born out of whimsy, and now she wasn’t sure it had been a good one.
She was pretty sure Rodolfo wouldn’t like it, either. Superman would be an obstacle for her, and anything she did to alter her plans at such a late date upset Rodolfo. And she still wasn’t supposed to be in America, much less let anyone from her former life know she was still alive. Rodolfo would be most upset if he knew she was here. But, as she had assured him any number of times, that was what backup plans were for.
As Lucy flagged down a cab, she thought about which extraction plan to activate. She’d have to get out fast and stay out of sight, especially if Kent could do half the things Lucy had suggested he could do. Too bad he was such a goody-two-shoes. She could have used someone like him to watch her back.
They didn’t have to like each other to cover for each other. She and Carla had proven that truth. Of course, since Carla was dead, she couldn’t argue against Lois’ conclusions.
The cab pulled to the curb and Lois looked inside. Oh, great, it was some dark-skinned guy with dreadlocks and beads on the front seat. She hated those guys.
Some of them were dead because of her. That wasn’t what bothered her.
She hoped that wasn’t it.
Last edited by Terry Leatherwood; 07/16/15 07:47 AM. Reason: Clarify that Lois isn't pregnant
