Previously...
Day by day, Kal grew. His weight increased. His body filled out. He got longer. His strength grew. His eyes focused and before long, he rewarded his parents with a huge lopsided smile. He did not laugh, but they could see him trying to figure out how to do so. He began to hold his head up and took interest in the isolated world around him.
Despite all that had happened, it was the happiest time in Jor-El and Lara's life together. Though they had enjoyed their marriage for many years, it had always been missing a child. And now that Kal was finally there, in their arms, they could not have been more thrilled. Jor-El had never seen Lara's eyes sparkle quite so brightly before. Her smile had never been so wide. And he himself had never laughed so much in his life as he did now, at each and every moment spent with his son.
Life was good.
"Lara," Jor-El said late one night as Kal slumbered. "I think I found a place to land."
"Land?" she asked, half asleep in her chair.
He nodded. "A planet well suited to our needs. A place where we'll be able to breathe the air, eat the food, drink the water. I'm not sure if they possess the fuel we need, but, if anything, I should be able to rig up some new system to meet our needs. Besides, it's our food and water reserves that I'm most worried about at the moment."
"I am too," she said, waking a bit more fully. "How long?"
"A few more days," he said. Then he sighed. "Two months. Two months and not a single shred of evidence that the mother ship is out there."
"You don't think...?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "They are out there, alive and well. I'm sure of it. Something must have happened to their transmitter, or maybe they are just too far away for us to pick up anything."
"So...what do we do?"
"I don't know. I'll check over the outside receiver once we land on this new planet...Earth, the inhabitants call it. I'll try to boost its power. Maybe it just isn't strong enough to detect a signal."
"What do we know about this...Earth?" Lara asked, looking at the details listed on the computer.
"From what I can tell, the inhabitants of the planet are good people, if not primitive in terms of their technology, when compared to our own people. But the vast majority seem to be good people, living their lives as peacefully as they can. My plan is to land here," he said, pointing to the screen and enlarging the area selected, "in a land called America. I believe we may have our best chance of finding what we need there. It seems to be a land of prosperity."
"That is good," she agreed. She studied more of the photos that popped up on the screen. "The people...they look exactly like us."
"Another reason why I've chosen this planet," Jor-El agreed. "No need to scare the people of Earth with tales of people from other planets landing on their own. We can, I hope, stay as inconspicuous as possible - be in and out before anyone is the wiser. Then we can continue our search for the mother ship, though, I admit, finding them is only going to become all the more difficult, with how much time has already passed."
"I know," Lara said with a sigh. "Unless...unless we make a life on Earth."
"I don't know, my love. While the planet is similar enough to our home world, Earth's sun is yellow, not red. How that may affect us, over a long stretch of time, I cannot be certain. But we can try. For Kal's sake, we will try."
***
Hours turned into days before the ship entered into the Milky Way galaxy, making as swift a course as possible for Earth. Jor-El and Lara spent their time playing with and fawning over their son, as well as learning as much as they could about the planet. Tinkering with what scraps he had aboard the vessel, Jor-El created two translator devices for Lara and himself, which would not only translate the languages of Earth to Kryptonian, but would transmit what they said in the native tongue of those they might speak to. True, the design was crude, but the units would suffice for their needs. And, if all went as Jor-El hoped, there would be no need for them to interact with the people of Earth.
They were half a day from their destination when the attack came. Interstellar pirates happened upon their ship. Shots were fired at the family's ship, causing severe damage to the vehicle. Jor-El fought hard to keep control, maneuvering as best he could to stay out of the pirates' reach. He knew the markings on the other vehicle. Pentharks. Cannibalistic beings who roamed the entire universe, never settling in one spot. Making it to Earth was their only chance. The oxygen rich atmosphere of the planet would be fatally toxic to their attackers.
Another blast hit the ship as it entered into the Earth's atmosphere. All of the instruments went blank or filled with static. The control panel smoked. What little control Jor-El had managed to keep from the first attack was now totally lost. The ship went into a free-fall, hurtling toward the planet's surface at a terrifying rate. Flames engulfed the outside of the ship and Jor-El sent up a prayer to Rao that the heat shielding would hold. If it didn't, they would be incinerated in seconds. The ship picked up even more speed and the ground rushed up to meet them. Jor-El wrestled with the manual control to deploy a twin set of parachutes to slow them, but by the time he got it to work, it was too late for them to do much good.
With Kal already secured in his specialized cradle, Jor-El and Lara strapped in and braced themselves for impact. But nothing could have prepared them for the actual shock of hitting the ground, even with the emergency chutes deployed. Dirt and grass erupted into the air as they touched down, creating a long scar in the ground as they slid to a stop. Metal crunched and bent at the impact. Kal, awoken by the jolting crash, screamed in terror. Jor-El and Lara, despite their safety restraints, felt every injury caused by the sheer force of the landing and objects that had torn loose from the inside of the ship which became airborne and pelted them.
When, at last, the ship came to a final screeching halt, Jor-El unfastened his restraints. Drawing a breath hurt. He suspected cracked or even broken ribs. Warm, sticky blood rolled down his head and body from a number of wounds. Looking at Lara, he suspected the same with her. She rose slowly out of her seat and immediately made her way to Kal. His cradle had come loose and damaged in the crash, but the baby was, thankfully, unharmed.
She picked him up and cuddled him close, wincing with pain as she pressed him to her chest. Still scared, he continued to wail, even though Lara rocked and whispered soothingly in his ear. Eventually, though, he cried himself back to an exhausted sleep.
"We need to get out of here," Lara said, not looking up from her son. "Someone had to have seen that."
"I agree," Jor-El said, though it pained him to say so. They were both hurt and needed time to assess the damage to themselves and their ship.
He helped her exit the battered vehicle, his arm around her body as much as he dared. They leaned on one another, taking strength and aid from the other. Leaving everything behind, they emerged out in a quiet field. Jor-El craned his neck to look at the sky.
Night.
A deep blue-black sky with a billion distant points of starlight arranged in strange patterns that the man had never seen before. Alien, was the word that came to mind. He'd hoped to arrive during the daylight hours, to experience for himself how strange and new the rays of a yellow sun would be. Would it warm his skin, the way his native red sun had? How odd would it be, to look up into the sky and see it awash in blue, as opposed to the pinks of his home? Was his recent research correct, when it suggested that this sun might react with his Kryptonian genetics to give him powers?
A cool, comfortable breeze swept over the nearly silent field. Frogs and crickets, hidden in the blades of grass, were the only sound, aside from the crackling of fire. Behind Jor-El, the heat of the flames that had once licked the sides of his ship were already starting to die. He took a deep breath, as deep as he dared with his aching ribs, and savored the new scents that his nostrils inhaled. Rich soil. Thick grass, springy beneath his feet. Even the wind smelled differently than it had on Krypton, though it was not unpleasant, just foreign.
Then, in the distance, shouting, and what Jor-El could only assume, from his research, was the baying of hounds. Someone had obviously witnessed the ship's decent, as the voices were growing closer.
"Come," he said to his wife. "We need to find a safe place."
Lara nodded and clutched Kal closer. "That way," she said, pointing.
Jor-El nodded in turn. He had no idea why his wife had chosen that direction, but he was never one to argue with her. He simply followed her lead, urging them both to move as fast as they could, even though it pushed them past the point of pain. Every breath hurt. Every movement sent shockwaves of agony throughout their battered bodies. They cut across the field to the road, where they would not leave any footprints in the hard-packed dirt as evidence of their passing. Soon, the sound of voices grew ever more distant, as did the barking of the dogs.
"They must have found the ship," Jor-El said, mostly to himself.
It was the only thing, he reasoned, that would distract any pursuers. He wasn't even sure why he felt so afraid of whoever was behind them. Instinct fueled him, propelling him forward. He had to get his family to safety. That was of paramount importance.
Before long, the empty fields gave way to farmland, with neat little houses dotting the landscape. Lara ignored the houses for a time, before she finally began to lag behind, her remaining energy almost completely spent. She tugged on Jor-El's sleeve to get his attention.
"I can't go on much further," she said, gasping for breath.
"Okay," he said, stopping and take stock of their surroundings.
They were at the very edge of one of the farmsteads, practically at the front gate leading up to the house. A shed stood to one side, silent and dark. But lights blazed merrily in the house's windows, beacons of warmth and hope in the darkness. Some of the windows were open, allowing the night breeze in.
Behind them, the sound of dogs grew closer once more. Jor-El worriedly looked from side to side, trying to find a safe place to lay low and wait for the threat to his family to pass. The shed, he decided. Limping, the young family made their way to the shed, careful not to make any noise. But the door was locked.
"The house?" Lara asked in a whisper.
Jor-El frowned. There was no way to tell if they could trust the occupants.
"For Kal's sake," she pressed. "He's shivering."
Jor-El looked at the infant in her arms. As Lara had said, the baby was shaking and trying to nuzzle in closer to his mother, even in his sleep. He whimpered once. Jor-El had no defense against that. He nodded and looked back toward the house.
"Okay," he relented. "Just until the danger has passed."
He helped his wife and child to the porch. Now, a car's engine could be heard, faint, but steadily moving closer. Lara collapsed onto the wooden floor as soon as they reached the door. In the pools of light coming from beyond the windows, he could see now that Lara's injuries were worse than he'd feared. She was having difficulty breathing and blood oozed from dozens of wounds.
"I'll draw whoever is behind us as far away as I can," he said, stooping to kiss her lips. "I'll double back once the area is clear. I don't want them to know you are here, in case their intentions in following us are less than noble."
"But Jor..." she protested.
"I wish I could stay," he murmured. "But I can't take that risk. I promise, I will be back for you both as soon as I can. Keep Kal safe."
"I will."
"I love you," he said, cradling her head and kissing her brow. He took his son in his arms and kissed his cheek. "And I love you, my son."
For several heartbeats, he held his son and stared at his perfect features. Then he gave him one more kiss and placed him back in Lara's arms. Again, his kissed his wife's lips. Then he pulled away and hurriedly shambled away from the house.
***
Once alone, Lara knocked on the door, forcing herself to gather enough energy to rap her knuckles against the outer glass storm door. She fought to stay awake as she waited for someone to answer the door. A moment later, she heard the shuffling of footsteps within the house before the door opened. A kindly man answered, confusion quickly melting into concern when he saw her.
"Martha!" he cried over his shoulder, before bending down to assist Lara. "My God, what happened to you?"
"What is it, Jonathan?" came a female voice, though the owner was momentarily out of Lara's view.
"A woman," he replied. "She looks to be hurt pretty badly."
He hooked her under the armpits and helped her to stand, ever mindful of the child she held in her arms.
"Oh, my, " the woman, Martha, said, catching sight of Lara as Jonathan helped her stand. "Come in. Jonathan, get her to the couch."
Martha raced ahead. By the time the kind farmer got her to the couch, Lara could see that it had been set up like a bed, pillows on one end and a quilted blanket thrown over the back of it, presumably to help warm her and the baby. Jonathan eased her down onto the couch and Lara gratefully sank into the cushions, though she never loosened her tight hold on her son.
"Call Doctor McSwiggan," Martha instructed as she held a glass of water out toward Lara.
Lara accepted the drink and drained the glass in six large gulps. Tears stung her eyes as the cold liquid hit her parched throat.
"I'm Martha," the woman said, by way of introduction. "Martha Kent. That's my husband, Jonathan."
"Lara," she wheezed out after a few long moments of indecision. "And Kal."
"What happened to you?"
"Accident." It was all she could manage to get out.
"Well, don't worry, we'll get you patched up in no time."
"Please...no."
"Oh, honey, you're in bad shape."
"Can't. Too risky. My husband will be back soon. He'll take care of things."
"Tim's on his way," Jonathan announced as he reentered the room.
Terror ran through Lara. Though she knew she looked just like an Earthling, she could not be sure her body worked the same way as theirs. True, they had the same parts - hearts and lungs and the like, but how could she be sure that this human doctor would not be able to determine that she and her baby were not of Earth?
"Need to go," she said, trying to push herself back into a sitting position.
"I'm sorry," Martha said, sympathy in her voice. "But I'm not sure that's possible. You and your boy need to rest up and heal. Let me get you something to eat."
Before Lara could decline, the woman was already sweeping out of the room. Heaviness weighed on Lara and her eyes closed of their own volition. She could not prevent herself from dozing while Kal slept on her chest. It was nice, she admitted to herself before sleep claimed her, to enjoy a simple comfort like the soft cushions of the couch. Sure, the ship she and her husband had traveled in had had a plush bed, but after the trauma of the night, to be warm and safe - at least, she hoped she and Kal were safe for the moment - was a great relief. It would likely be the last bit of comfort she would experience.
She was dying.
She knew it, deep down inside. Her wounds were too grievous. There was not much to be done. Her life forces were waning as steadily as the blood still flowed from the deepest of her wounds. If not for Kal, she doubted that she would still be alive. It was only for him that she kept pressing on. His safety. His chance at life.
"Here," Martha said gently, sitting down on the coffee table.
Lara opened her eyes to see the woman holding a steaming bowl of soup. She tried to sit up, but she was in too much pain.
"Easy now," Martha cautioned. "Here, let me hold your baby."
Reluctantly, Lara handed Kal over. Martha was right. She did need to eat, if only to fuel her long enough to see Kal happily and safely in Jor-El's arms once more. Martha took the baby and Lara took the soup and gratefully ate. But her eyes never left Kal. Martha held the boy gently and bounced him a little as she walked around the living room with him. When the boy made a fussing sound, she smiled down on him and shushed him.
"Hush now, sweet boy," she cooed at him as the baby settled down once more.
There was a knock at the door and Jonathan went to answer it. When he returned, he was trailed by a tall, thin man with a serious demeanor. Jonathan quickly made the introductions and explained how they'd found Lara on their doorstep. Though Lara protested, the man checked her over, patching up the worst of her wounds as best he could, cleaning them with some kind of stinging liquid with an astringent odor, sewing shut the most gaping ones, and taping white gauze over the rest, applying pressure as he worked to stem the flow of her blood.
Then he turned his attention to Kal. Lara watched, wide-eyed and fearful, as the doctor inspected her son for evidence of injury. Finding none, he handed back the boy. Then he exited the room, motioning for Jonathan and Martha to follow him.
"I'm afraid the outlook isn't great," Lara could just barely hear him say. "She's lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to the hospital. I've done what I can, but, without better equipment and blood to transfuse..." his voice trailed off.
"Just tell us what you need from us," Jonathan said. "Whatever it is to get her the help she needs."
Lara, the voice of Jor-El cut into her thoughts, blocking out all else. Lara, are you safe?
Yes, she replied, back over their telepathic link. For the moment. Where are you?
Still running. They are getting closer. He sounded terrified.
Jor...I am afraid. My time grows short.
No, Lara. Fight! For us. For Kal. You are the strongest person I know. You must fight now, to be with your family. You must...
His voice cut off suddenly. Through the telepathic link, she could hear men shouting and dogs bawling. A shot rang out and suddenly, the link was gone.
Jor? she cried out to him, trying to establish a new link and failing. JOR???
But he was gone, lost to her. Tears slipped from her eyes as she cried aloud, her sob shattering the silence of the living room. In an instant, Martha and Jonathan were there, the doctor once again on their heels.
"He's gone," she murmured to herself. "He's gone. Oh, Jor. Jor. Jor."
"Honey? What's wrong?" Martha said, kneeling by the couch.
"He's gone." She felt completely numb. "My husband."
"Take it easy," Martha tried to soothe, but Lara was past the point of being comforted. Her heart was broken and her wounds were catching up to her. Her tenuous grip on life was slipping rapidly now.
"Take the boy," she urged the other woman. "Take my Kal. Be good to him. Please. Love him. I'm so sorry, Kal. I'm sorry. I'm so..."
With that, she felt the last of her life force slip away. Blackness took her and she breathed her last.
***
"Oh my God," Jonathan said, as Kal slid from his mother's arms.
Martha grabbed the baby, who woke and began to frantically cry. She tried to soothe him as Tim checked Lara for signs of life. He shook his head as he tried to find a pulse, and found none. He checked for breath and failed to find that as well. He attempted CPR, but the woman was gone.
"I'm sorry," he said, when he finally stopped trying to revive her, some ten minutes later. "She's gone."
He set the woman's wrist down again, as he'd been checking once more for a pulse. As he did so, his fingertips brushed against the delicate bracelet that Lara had been wearing. He studied it for a moment. He rubbed his finger over it once more.
"Stunning," he commented. Then, "What's this?"
A red light had begun to slowly flicker on it. Tim peered at it quizzically.
"What on Earth?" he said again.
The pinpoint of light expanded. Tim pulled his hand away from the woman's wrist, a crease of worry furrowing his brow. He was not a moment too soon. Lara's body began to shimmer, fade, and then, simply cease to be. Within moments, it was as if the woman had never been there. Kal was the only evidence that Lara had ever existed.
"What in the name of..." Jonathan stammered.
Martha shook her head. "I don't understand...Oh, it's okay, baby. I'm here." She tried, in vain, to shush Kal.
"What do we do?" Jonathan asked, slumping onto the far end of the couch, away from where Lara's petite frame had rested.
For a long moment, no one answered. Then, as if waking from a dream, Tim spoke.
"Nothing," he said. "We do nothing."
"Nothing?" Martha repeated. "A woman just died."
Tim nodded. "And vanished without a trace. Look, if we say anything, we all get in trouble. A reported death without a body? How is that going to look? No one will believe the truth."
"But...the baby," Martha argued.
"I know," the doctor sighed. "But maybe...maybe we say that you found him, alone, on your doorstep. You called me to give the infant a checkup. What you choose to do after that is up to you."
"What do you mean, what we choose to do?" Jonathan asked.
Tim shrugged. "That woman obviously asked you to care for her boy. And I know you two haven't been able to have a child of your own. Maybe this boy was meant to come to you. My sister works with adoption cases. I could get you in touch with her. Or, if that's not something you're interested in, then we need to contact the Sheriff and get this child to an agency."
"I, uh..." Jonathan said, appearing to be lost for words.
A harsh knock rapped at the door. Martha, still holding a screaming Kal, went to answer it. Opening the front door, she was greeted by three men, dressed in suits. One held out an identification card in a leather wallet, not unlike a police officer. But his attire told her that he was not with any law enforcement agency.
"Good evening, ma'am," he said.
"Can I help you?" Martha asked as a chill raced up her spine.
"I hope so. I'm General Burton Newcomb. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
Martha shifted the baby on her hip as she leaned against the doorframe. It was clear that the men on her porch expected to be invited in, but somehow, every instinct she had was telling her not to let them in. There was something about the men that she didn't quite like, though she could not pinpoint what it was.
"Sure," she forced herself to say as pleasantly as possible.
The men shifted their weight on their feet, uncomfortable, it seemed, with being forced to stand out on the porch as opposed to being invited in to sit on a couch or at a table. Their leader cleared his throat, but Martha stood her ground.
"Well, we were wondering, have you seen anyone around tonight? Anyone...out of the ordinary? Or anything else at all strange?"
"Strange...? No. Just you," she said, pointedly.
"Are both of the cars in the driveway yours?" the man asked, ignoring the jab.
"No, one is the local doctor's. He's here looking after our son."
The words rolled smoothly, naturally off her tongue. She hadn't gotten the chance to even consider Doctor McSwiggan's proposal - that she and Jonathan adopt the now orphaned boy, though they were in the midst of looking over the information packets for several adoption agencies. But she knew now, without a doubt, that she wanted to be the baby's mother more than anything.
For his part, the infant certainly did appear to have something wrong. He was still crying, his face red and puffy from the effort. Tears streaked his cheeks. Hiccups punctuated his screams. He looked, as far as Martha could tell, like a normal, colicky baby. She placed a kiss on his forehead and tried to calm him. He did, a little, his screams turning into whimpers.
"Your son, right," the man said, disinterestedly.
"Clark," Jonathan said, coming up behind Martha.
That surprised her. Not only was Jonathan going along with her ruse to protect the baby, but he had so much conviction in that one word. Clark. The name they had dreamed about giving their son someday, back before all of their hopes and dreams of becoming parents had been shattered. But now, Jonathan was giving that name to the precious little boy in his wife's arms.
Clark.
Yes. It fit the boy perfectly. Clark. Their son, just as soon as the doctor's sister could get them the paperwork that they needed. Clark. The answer to every one of Martha's prayers.
Clark.
"You're sure no one has been around?" General Newcomb pressed.
"We're certain," Jonathan said. "We've been up all night with our boy. We would have noticed anything out of the ordinary."
"If you see anything..." The man let his voice trail off as he produced a business card from the breast pocket of his jacket.
"I'll be sure to let you know. Now, if you excuse us..."
"I appreciate your time. Goodnight."
"Night," Jonathan said, through gritted teeth. Martha could tell her husband's patience was just about worn through.
He closed the door perhaps a little more forcefully than he needed to, just as soon as the men inclined their heads in acknowledgement that the conversation was over. Immediately, he crinkled the business card in his hand and tossed it in the wicker garbage pail in the living room. He took the baby from Martha's arms and smiled down as the infant shoved his tiny hands into his mouth.
"So, Clark? What do you think? You want to be our son?" he asked.
The boy smiled around his knuckles and laughed.
"I thought so," Jonathan said, as he kissed Clark's forehead. "Your new mom and I will keep you safe, I promise. Sleep now. You're home, little boy. You're home and we love you already."
To Be Continued...
