Part Twenty
Catherine stepped out of the elevator, her mind still considering a rather unusual conversation she had had with Arthur. He wanted them to solidify their relationship. At Forty-five, he was widowed, childless and was feeling a little lonely. Traveling for business or for pleasure was a bore without someone to share the experience with. He wanted more out of life than to be comfortable and wealthy. She had thought at age forty that enjoying a serious relationship was out of her grasp, but perhaps together they could build something they both could cherish.
So her clumsiness could be forgiven after nearly bumping into a devastatingly handsome man who should have been moving through the halls of GQ magazine rather than the rough and tumble Daily Planet bullpen. He gave her a smile which should have been dazzling if it had touched his brown eyes. He nimbly stepped passed her, pushed the down button and did not look at her again as the doors of the elevator slammed shut.
The faintest scent of the man’s expensive cologne hung like a pendulum in the air. “Who was that?” she said aloud to the empty bullpen.”
***
“I’ll tell you who he is,” Peggy Becker said an hour later, “He’s Litt, Young and Crane’s best gunslinger and they only bring him out for the big cases.”
“Yeah, well if Mr. Kell’s so significant, why isn’t he a partner and make either an associate or better still, a paralegal do his dirty work?” Lois retorted. She had heard about the handsome lawyer’s early morning visit to the newsroom and it irritated her that someone would confront Perry on his home ground like that. “The man has absolutely no respect for boundaries.”
She was wearing another one of her ‘power’ outfits, a blue pants suit; Perry was sending her on a press conference. It was a follow-up to the Metro story. The city’s transportation department wanted to assure commuters that the system was safe and perfectly operational. But after hearing what had taken place earlier she wanted to stay and do a little research on Mr. Sebastian Kell and find out just what kind of evidence he had against Clark.
“From what I have heard of his reputation, Mr. Kell is only respectful when it comes to his clients, paychecks and bonuses.” Peggy responded, her annoying voice which was more grating than usual to her reluctant audience. It gave her no small amount of pleasure that for once she was ahead of Lois and Catherine. They knew next to nothing about this lawyer, yet she with her legal resources had gotten the lowdown on Sebastian Reginald Kell, Esq. “But he’s tenacious in his own research, if his client says there’s something wrong with the story…”
Lois waved her hand dismissively. “Clark has all the proof he needs. He cleared everything before the story went to print. He won’t give up his sources, but the documentation is enough to prove he’s right, no matter what this lawyer says.”
A new voice joined the conversation, “That’s right Lane, defend the boyfriend, for all the good it will do him.” Ralph said sneeringly.
“Oh,” Catherine jumped in before Lois could speak. “Is that from your expert legal opinion or do you know something the rest of us don’t? This from a man whose bungling of a simple interview with the mayor’s wife led to Perry’s predecessor going into early retirement and you sent to pull old files in the morgue.
Ignoring her statement about his past Ralph said, “Hey, I didn’t have to give up my sources…”
“Lombard, why would any decent source ever talk to you?” Lois shot back.
Ralph raised his voice in an act of uncharacteristic bravo. “I got plenty of sources Lane, don’t think I don’t! There are other reporters on the Planet beside you and Kent. Anyhow, the inside word is Kent’s washed up … not just at the Planet but as a reporter if he doesn’t hand over his sources!”
Little by little, the normal background noise of the bullpen began to taper off as people stopped their work tasks and listened to the heated conversation. Peggy, realizing the exchange had sharply veered away from Sebastian Kell and that a true war of words was about to commerce, hurried to her desk, her cheap high heels making their signature clickity-click sound.
Lois stood straighter and walked over to the obsequious little man who had been a thorn in her side for years; and said, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “Whatever you know Lombard … it had better be good because…”
At that moment the elevator doors snapped open and Constance Hunter stepped out, she walked down the ramp and refused to impart so much as a glance at anyone in the newsroom. All eyes followed the woman in the cheap, old gray suit as she entered the editor’s office without knocking. Perry stood up, his movements stiff and tense; hastily he closed the blinds, an outward sign to all they were not to be interrupted.
The blood quickly drained from Lois’s chilled heart. The strained expression on Constance’s face had spoken volumes. James Olsen and the suits must have had an emergency meeting after Kell’s discussion with Perry. The sharks could smell fear in the water, so they were circling their wagons for the attack. In order to gain time they would need to ‘distance themselves’ from the source of their current legal problems … Clark Jefferson Kent.
“Ha! Betcha that ain’t a meeting about vacations! Your boyfriend is history! Where is he anyway?” Ralph made a show of looking around the room. “He’s probably off somewhere waitin’ for Perry, one of the suits or maybe James Olsen to fire him!”
Lois looked at Ralph, his wide mouth split into a greasy smile. She could feel all the strain and anger in her body peak into an adrenalin rush which lanced through muscle and sinew and gather into her right hand, shaping itself into a fist. With each chuckle that gushed past his lips her arm rose, intent on smashing his face in.
Ralph stopped laughing when he saw the dainty fist and was about to duck, but it never connected with his frightened face.
Catherine, with no small effort, caught her friend by the elbow and whispered something into Lois’ ear. With an effort she closed her eyes, muttered something dark under her breath and walked away. A rather startled Ralph made sure he moved in the opposite direction.
The newsroom as a whole breathed a sigh of relief.
Over by the intern cubicle two young people had watched the scene with a mixture of fascination and horror, “Jack, she would have decked him.” Stacy breathed.
“Yeah.” Her friend said in his usual taciturn fashion.
“But … but wouldn’t Ralph have brought her up on charges to HR?”
“Maybe, but for charges to stick, the personnel department, as well as the cops, needs somebody to agree with Lombard’s accusation that Lois hit him.”
“Right! But … but.”
“Uh huh, try and tell me that you haven’t wanted to sock Ralph at least once a day? That’s the thought of everybody in the newsroom with the exception of Peggy. Nobody respects her either, but she won’t side with Ralph. Ralph hasn’t a snowball’s chance in a volcano of providing a witness to say she hit him.”
“Oh.” Stacy nodded, understanding what Jack was saying. “I just thought of something. I’ve been really sarcastic to Lois lately. Especially about her interest in following the Superman story. She might hate me for it!”
“Trust me Stace, if there was a problem, Mad Dog Lane would never hesitate to let you know it.”
Seconds later, Clark came down the stairs, whistling and adjusting his tie. He had just returned from a successful Superman rescue and was about to write up the story. He greeted several of his co-workers with a wave and a smile. So he was a little perplexed when they all refused to look at him or mumbled something and walked away. He looked about for Lois, but when he didn’t find her, he walked over to Steve at his desk and asked, “What’s wrong? Who died?”
Steve was about to answer him when they heard the door to Perry’s office open and Constance stepped out. She quickly glanced at Clark, stepped around him and with a tearful expression and moved as fast as possible up the ramp.
Confused by her odd behavior, he was about to ask Steve again what was going on, when he heard Perry’s voice speaking in a quiet, sad tone.
“Excuse me, Clark could we have a word please?”
“Sure Chief.” It finally dawned on the hapless young man that the bullpen’s tense atmosphere had to do with him.
At that moment a much calmer Lois returned to the bullpen. She heard Perry’s request and said firmly, “Whatever you have to say to my partner, you can say to me…”
“Now Lois, that press conference ain’t gonna cover itself….” Perry said.
She responded by squaring her shoulders and walking over to Perry, stood in front of him and said. “Send someone else, according to certain people,” she looked daggers at Ralph; “my partner’s reputation is on the line.”
The older man shook his head and muttered “Hell of a way to run a newspaper. Since when do the reporters tell their editors what to do? Come in then and close the door behind you.”
Ten minutes later a depressed trio sat in Perry’s office. “That’s the long and the short of it. According to the papers Kell presented me with, TresAx claims two of the three people you interviewed were not employees, but long-term contractors with extremely limited access to company records. Anything they told you about the accounting department tax dealing is either false information or incomplete, so the statements they signed off on are worthless. The third was fired recently for white collar crimes and is being prosecuted by DA Mayson Drake, so her word is seriously suspected.”
“So Clark doesn’t have to give up his sources because someone found out their names and gave them to Preston and The Star?”
Perry shook his head sadly, “The contractors were terminated yesterday, refused to talk to Constance and have ‘lawyered up’".
“What about Guerin and Senator Braxton? All the evidence I have points to him and his underhanded dealing with the IRS.” Clark asked; his face had gone pale with disbelief as he watched a promising career as a journalist slither into a murky abyss.
“He emphatically denies the charges and is willing to undergo a lie detector test.” Perry said in disgust.
A horrible feeling of déjà vu swept over Lois as Perry continued talking to Clark. Three years ago when she accused Claude of stealing her story, Constance Hunter had arrived in the nick of time to save her career.
This time Constance had come downstairs delivering the bad news; the Daily Planet’s board of directors wanted him out of the building as quickly as possible. If there was going to be a nasty legal battle in the near future, they had to build a defensive shield around the paper and Clark Kent was definitely outside of its protection.
“Sorry son, but we have to suspend you as a reporter until this whole mess is settled.” Perry’s voice quavered and then he said, Uh, please… hand over your building ID card and press pass.”
Jumping up from her seat Lois shouted, “Perry! They can’t be serious! Clark had his facts perfectly checked. Constance, Olsen and the rest of the suits upstairs gave the ‘go ahead’ to print the story.” She felt frightened for the Daily Planet, Clark and oddly for herself.
Clark’s slow and measured words cut through the tension, “But there’s one possibility Perry. Nobody knew about my research on that story but you and I. Those people came to me because I would keep their names out of the paper in order to protect their privacy and livelihoods. So how is it that the three reliable sources whose identities were unknown are suddenly known?”
“What are you getting at?” Perry said.
“The night of the Superman debut, I was at my computer, working on the President of China story. I sent that story over to you when Skip McLaurin and Pete Ross showed up. I … I must have left the computer running without locking it down. Someone accessed my computer and got into my story files.”
The older man shook his head desolately, “Son, that’s a mighty thin excuse, one that the suits upstairs won’t want to hear. Especially since one of them is a computer expert.”
<Why indeed.> Lois thought. Something important was nagging at the corners of her mind, but she just couldn’t get it to surface.
The mood in the bullpen had gone from apprehensive to somber as a security guard reluctantly stood over Clark while he carefully packed his belongings into a large cardboard box. The sound of keys typing or the printers whirling had gone mute. Only the monitors droning in the background continued as usual. Several of the staffers came over and spoke consolingly to him. Jack, Steve, Cat and others who worked especially close to him, said good-bye.
White haired Elsie from the Re-write Dept, her gentle gray eyes red from crying, stopped him as he walked over to the ramp. She placed a white wax paper bakery bag in the box. It was filled with plain doughnuts fresh from Lucille’s across the street.
“Something for you to munch on…” The dear lady was about to say more when her voice caught. She gave Clark a quick hug and then ran back to her office in the stacks.
Others, such as Ralph and Peggy ignored him.
The security guard had been extremely generous with Clark saying farewell to his friends and co-workers, but now he had to perform the unpleasant task of escorting the reporter out of the building. Lois watched silently as Clark climbed the stairs, his broad shoulders, normally so strong and straight, were hunched in shock and defeat. He stood in front of the elevator, pressed the button and waited for the car to arrive, not daring to look back. For once, the antique machine did not make a sound as the doors opened and allowed him to enter for the last time. Just a silently they closed, carrying him away.
Lois desperately wanted to cry, but she would not give in. She had investigative work to do. There had to be a way to find out how the information about his story had been accessed. Abruptly the thought nipping at the edge of her memory sprang forward.
“Jack!” Lois called.
The young man ran over to her, eager to be of assistance, “Yeah?”
“Remember when Claude tried to steal my story? Constance had mentioned that you could run a forensic check on my computer to see who really did all the research and wrote the story. Could we do the same thing for Clark?”
The young man thought for a moment and said, “No. That would have been easy to do with the old system, but now that Mr. Janney has installed all those safeguards with my level of expertise I couldn’t do it.”
The brunette rolled her eyes in agitation and muttered something along the lines that her friend Molly was right, technology was killing them.
“OK. Find Ken Janney, he's in the building somewhere; his computer know-how should help us. If he's not in the building, use ALL of yours and Stacy's resources to track him down.”
The young man nodded and went to his cubicle, dropped into his chair, grabbed the receiver and began dialing. Lois sat down at her desk, pulled a sharp yellow No. 2 pencil from a cup, yanked a battered, red notebook from her briefcase and started working on a plan of attack. Clark Kent might not be her partner anymore, but he was still her friend.
***
It only took fifteen minutes, but Ken stepped off the elevator and searched the room for Lois Lane. He had a good idea what the intrepid female reporter was looking for and he wondered if it was simply a matter of someone using the station after the person left and did not lock his computer or was it something more devious like the person actually hacking his account. In either case he would know in a few minutes.
Lois called out, “Ken! So glad you’re here, this way to Clark’s computer.”
As he started to follow Lois, Ken recognized Jack who was standing nearby and said, “Hey, Jack. How’s it going?”
Jack replied, “Not good. You probably heard what happened to Clark earlier today? Which is why Lois had me track you down, we really need your help.”
Ken waved him over and said, “I understand. Why don’t you look over my shoulder while we check this out? I can explain what I’m doing and why. Someday you may decide to transfer to IT and take my place.”
Jack smiled and with an eager look said, “I’d love to. Uh, look over your shoulder that is, not take your job.”
Ken laughed and said, “I knew what you meant. Come on. Let’s see what we can see.”
Lois led Ken over to Clark’s computer and said, “Okay, I guess you know what you’re doing, I’ll just go over … there … and wait at my desk.” Lois hated to admit it even to herself, but his calm self-assurance about his abilities on the computer intimidated her. Sometimes the workings of the computers mystified her. She crossed to her chair, sat down and started working on her to-do list for helping Clark. The first item was crossed off: Ken was checking over Clark’s computer.
Ken reached and turned the computer on. Once the logon screen came up he placed his administrator name in the username box. When he started typing in his password he went so fast that Jack was unable to follow. It was a complex series of upper case, lower case letters, numbers and special characters that was much longer than the minimum requirements.
Jack was astounded and asked, “How do you remember such a complex password?”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret. All you need to do is come up with a phrase or sentence that you can remember easily and substitute numbers for some of the letters like ‘1’ for ‘L’ and ‘3’ for ‘E’ and special characters like ‘@’ for ‘a’ and ‘$’ for ‘S’ for example. Start names or the sentence with a capitol and you’ve got a strong password.”
The computer searched for a second and then came back with a desktop unlike any Jack had seen before. Instead of the regular Daily Planet logo there was a large banner warning:
YOU ARE ACCESSING CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION. UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS IS A FEDERAL OFFENCE AND PROSECUTION CAN RESULT.
Ken clicked a button acknowledging the statement and then the screen painted with a picture of a cute, flop eared, bunny rabbit. Ken looked over his shoulder at Jack and said, “That desktop picture tells me I’m in the right place and that things are working properly. For the staff we use local profiles, however, as the Administrator, I have a roaming profile so that I have access to all of my tools, no matter which machine I log onto. If my Admin logon had failed I’d have the generic DP desktop picture.”
Turning to Lois he asked, “What is the date in question?”
“He said he left around 7:00pm on June 15th, so if there was a problem it would be that day.”
Grabbing the mouse he started clicking things and windows started to cascade open all over the screen. Picking one of the windows he said, “This is the event log for logons.” As he scrolled through he muttered, “Everything looks kosher here. The only logons recorded are Mr. Kent’s. Or here’s a logon by someone else. Is R. Lombard supposed to have access to this machine?” Once he located the correct day he highlighted the data for that day and hit <crtl> C to put the data onto the clipboard. Next he opened a new text document and using <ctrl> V pasted the data to the new document. He saved the document using Clark’s name in the filename.
Closing that window he clicked on another and said, “This is the event log for file access. Let’s see what we have.” Jack could see lines of data slide by as he scrolled through looking for the correct timeframe. Once he located the correct day he highlighted the data for that day, copied and pasted it into the document.
After closing that log window he moved on to another window. He said to Jack, “Okay, this window shows print queue activity. Let’s see what we have.” Again he scrolled through to the proper day and after copying the data pasted it into the text document.
After closing that window he moved to another. The next popped up and he said, “This log shows network activity. If a file was sent from one machine to another it’ll show up here.” After scrolling through he again copied and pasted data.
After about ten minutes, total, Ken printed out the file he had built on the attached printer. Taking the sheet of paper he stood and approached Lois’s desk. “Can I speak with you and Mr. White in his office?”
Lois stood and followed him to Perry’s office. Once inside he closed the door. He asked, “Mr. White, can I borrow a blue pencil?”
Perry was about to give him a stubby chewed on pencil, but thought better of it and handed a freshly sharpened blue pencil to him and Ken turned to Lois, “Tell me again, what time did Mr. Kent leave on the day in question?”
Curious, Lois said briskly, “He said that he left at 7PM.”
As he placed the sheet down on Perry’s desk Lois moved so that she could look over his shoulder. Ken drew lines across the paper at several locations and satisfied with his results he looked back and forth between Perry and Lois then pointing at the line said, “This indicates the time he left. The entries below that line indicate where files were accessed.” He drew a box around a set of entries. “These are the files in question. These were accessed after he says he left as indicated by the timestamp.” Using the pencil he indicated a new set of entries, “These show where copies of the files were sent to another computer. This shows that these files were LANed to another computer, one assigned to R. Lombard. If you want to use his logon – “This entry shows that another user logged onto his machine. The user’s name is R. Lombard.
Perry shook his head and said, “Can’t leave a fox near the henhouse.”
“More like a weasel.” Lois muttered darkly.
Turning to the young woman, Perry spoke slowly, “Now Lois, let’s work our way through the facts, this is too important for us to make a mistake. The Colonel told Elvis that after he heard Blue Suede Shoes for the first time. It sounded terrible. Made him go back into the studio and re-record it.” Looking at Janney again he said, “Ken is this conclusive? I mean this couldn’t be the work of someone using Ralph’s login?”
“It’s unlikely anyone would want to have their name linked with his. He’s one of the worst staffers my team has to deal with. This evidence is pretty clear, but be my guest and gather more facts so that HR, the lawyers - and the – police will be satisfied.”
Lois breathed a sigh of relief, “At least now we’re on the right track. Thanks a lot Ken! We’ll get that additional proof.”
Ken smiled, stood and walked towards the door. “If anyone needs my help, have Jack get in contact with me.”
***
CHARGES AGAINST TRESAX ‘TAX SCAM’ UNFOUNDED!!
Daily Planet and ‘star reporter’ Clark Kent brought to task
By Staff Reporter Linda King
Stephanie Aronnax briskly walked down the crowded city street on a mission; she passed a newspaper stand and looked at the surprising headlines that blared from The Star’s front page, her knees grew rubbery and nearly buckled from the shock. She was literally on her way to the post office to mail the generous file of critical evidence both she and Bonesteel had complied on their employers to the reporting duo.
“If Mr. Kent cannot be trusted than neither can his partner.” She whispered to herself. Her red leather satchel felt heavier than usual. Who could she hand this explosive corporate information to? More importantly, if she couldn’t give it to anyone what would happen to her and Bonesteel if she did not? Head bowed in contemplative thought, she slowed her pace, turned around and returned to the office.
***
Lois came home long after the sun had dipped below the western horizon. The door opened to her dark apartment, touched with silvery blades of light, gifted to her by the moon. An odd rustling sound reached alert ears; at first she thought it was Lady Plushbottom running up to greet her. But the furball was nowhere in sight.
Lois Lane had accumulated not a few enemies over the past couple of years; a little caution would not hurt her. Dropping her briefcase, taunt limbs slipped into a Tae Kwan Do stance of defense she stood in the doorway, she called out softly, “Lady P?”
Unexpectedly, she noticed a man; his arms crossed at his chest suddenly appear in the center of her living room, the moonlight revealing very familiar – brightly colored garb. He walked towards her with the calm measured strides of a man who was greater than other men, almost like a god.
A gasp escaped her throat, “Su…Superman? Wha …what are you doing here?”
The voice was formal yet pitched in such a manner as to put her at ease. “Miss Lane? I apologize for appearing at your home without an invitation, but a friend of mine is in dire circumstances and requires your immediate assistance.”
The words tumbled from her lips in astonishment. “My help? What can I do that you can’t? Flying and super strength isn’t my field of expertise.”
The handsome young man smiled at her, “No, there is a great deal you can accomplish that I cannot. Please, come inside and turn on the lights. My night vision is perfect, but I suspect yours is not.”
“Oh … right.” Picking up the discarded briefcase, she stepped inside the apartment, flicked on the switch and placed her briefcase on the couch. Without realizing it a torrent of words began to spew forth. “It’s funny that someone you know is in trouble, because someone I know, my former partner, no scratch that, my partner is in trouble. We have evidence proving his computer was illegally accessed and sources pertinent to his article were tampered with.”
The young man nodded his head gravely and asked, “Who hacked into m … his computer?”
“A nasty bottom feeder who thinks he’s a reporter, Ralph Lombard is his name and if we don’t act quickly to get additional evidence his prediction will come true: poor Clark’s career in journalism will be over. Tell you what; I’ll help you with your friend if you help me with mine.”
Lois noticed that at the mention of Ralph’s name, Superman’s eyes briefly flashed in anger, but quickly he masked the emotion. Instead his lips pulled into a shadow of a smile. “You dive right in don’t you? Uh … your reputation as a tenacious reporter is well earned. It appears we are helping the same friend, Clark Kent.”
Her beautiful brown eyes, tired after a long and emotionally taxing day, looked searchingly into his, “How … how do you know him?”
Without a moment’s hesitation he said, “We met shortly before my debut. By the way, Miss Lane, I never had a chance to thank you for writing such a great story introducing me to the people of Metropolis.”
Flattered she answered, “You’ve read my work?”
“Of course Miss Lane, I read everything you write.”
She smiled; he was handsome, courteous and loyal to a friend. Great qualities to be admired in anyone, but to her, in this super person those traits fit him like a hand in a glove. He was something else … impressive, gorgeous and romantic all at the same time. Her palms itched when the strange thought crossed her mind. She had to be a professional journalist, not a silly teen-age girl discovering her first crush. If the circumstances were different she would have opened her notebook and pulled out the interview questions … or asked him to take her flying. She quickly pushed that thought aside, interviews and flying … they could wait. Right now, no matter how distracting her unexpected visitor was, she needed to concentrate on helping Clark.
Slipping into ‘Mad Dog’ Lane mode she asked, “Could you lend a hand so Clark can get his job back?”
“I think together we can help him and solve this mystery.” Her visitor said.
Relieved, Lois smiled and shouted, “Great! Let me call him right now! He can come over and we can brainstorm this situation as a team.” She reached over to the phone and began dialing. Clark wanted to stop her, but decided it was best for her to think he was out of his apartment.
The phone rang several times until the answer machine came on, ‘Hi! You’ve reached Clark Kent. I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message.’ Suddenly the answering machine beeped rather loudly in her ear.
It was good to hear his voice sounding so confident, but she was still slightly nettled that he was not at home. How could he pull one of his disappearing acts at a time like this? The irritation came through while leaving her message, “Hey Kansas, call me. I have good news!”
After hanging up she turned to her visitor and attempted to hide her annoyance at Clark for not being home. Meanwhile, Superman lips were pulled into the faintest of smiles. “Miss Lane, the people who put Clark Kent onto this story have all been discredited. Their reputations ruined and livelihoods gone. None of that would have happened if their identities had remained undisclosed. Maybe they can offer some insight that our friend Clark missed. He wants you to talk to Sylvia Nygaard and Dennis Shaw. He will talk to Todd Sylvester.” Superman said.
Lois smirked, “Not bad, Superman, you’re starting to think like a seasoned reporter. But why didn’t Clark ask me himself?” Waving her hand towards him she said, “Why send you? Metropolis has a greater need for your skills.”
The silence stretched almost to the point of being uncomfortable when her visitor spoke very carefully. “Clark Kent would not want anyone to think the partnership still exists. It’s bad enough that one member has been suspended from the job, but it would hurt him deeply if you suffered the same fate. He ca … respects the good work you do.”
Lois’s lips quirked into a nervous smile, “Thank you for telling me that Superman. I … I respect his work to.”
“Meow!”
Startled, they both turned to see Lady Plushbottom perched on the edge of the couch looking askance at the humans. No doubt she was not pleased to discover there was no supper in her bowl. Lois laughed nervously and blurted out. “I don’t think she likes you Superman.”
In answer, he bent down and held out his hand to the prickly creature. “Hello there. You are a pretty… uh, ‘little’ kitty.”
Lady Plushbottom responded by rubbing her head against his hand and purring shamelessly.
“I’m impressed! She usually only responds like that to a select group of people.” Lois said, clearly thunderstruck by the large cat’s behavior.
Superman looked at her with a guarded expression, “Um … animals like me.”
Lois did not speak only stared at her visitor dumbly. Not only was this man courtly and could bench press a freight train, he was also kind to animals. Talk about perfection! The next words came out in a rush. “Excuse me, where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink? There’s a cream soda in the fridge? Ah, do you drink or eat?”
He fought to keep himself from grinning, turned towards the fridge and shook his head. “Yes, I do eat … especially when I’m hungry. But no, I don’t want to take the last cream soda, that wouldn’t be very polite.”
Surprised, she asked, “How did you know?”
“Maybe after this whole thing with Clark is settled we can have a proper one-on-one interview. This way Metropolis will learn a bit more about its latest resident?” He cocked his head as if listening for something off in the distance, then turned to her and said, “Please excuse me, but I’m needed elsewhere. Besides from the growling sounds of its stomach, your cat is hungry and I have no doubt you are tired as well. It has been a long day.”
When she had first walked inside the apartment Lois was tired, but talking with her attractive visitor put a little energy in her step. She watched as he strode confidently towards her window and said, “May I?”
When she had first walked inside the apartment Lois was tired, but talking with her attractive visitor put a little energy in her step. She watched as he strode confidently towards her window and said, “May I?”
Confused, she said, “Of course.” Than before she could stop herself added, “How about taking me flying one of these evenings? It … it would make a great story.”
He looked at her with an odd expression on his face and then said. “Why not now?”
Caught by surprise for the second time that evening she said in a voice so high-pitched she did not recognize it as her own. “Really”
By way of an answer, Superman removed his cape and gently it around her slender frame. “It gets cold out there.”
Lois could only nod, still surprised by what was happening. “Where are we going?”
“For a quick tour around the city, but Miss Lane, we will be moving at super speed in the beginning. For your safety please allow me to cover your face.”
“This is going to be different from anything I’ve ever done before.” She said in a shaky voice as the warm red fabric covered her face. As he secured the cape, the faint scent of fresh air and wood coiled around her nostrils. Suddenly her feet were lifted off the floor and the sound of a stiff rushing breeze reached her ears. For the briefest of instances the smell of dank earth was so strong it made her wheeze, than the cape was removed and she was treated to the sight of Hob’s Bay from a very different night time vantage point. Above twinkled a few stars and below the bay stretched beneath them.
Lois had always heard of the descriptive words: Majestic Sweep applied to Hollywood epics such at Alieanor of Aquitaine or Lawrence of Arabia and had always considered them simply high swung adjectives.
Until now.
The strong arms which held her were capable of stopping a runaway train, yet tender enough to hold her. There was something familiar about the way his arms fit around her waist, yet how could that be? Over a month ago he did not exist in her life. Questions could come later, however at this place in time she wanted to savor. Nothing compared to flying at night with a clumsy machine to protect her. An experience like this was not meant to be shared …
With what seemed like a lifetime later, Superman deposited Lois back in her living room. Gently he removed the cape and with a blur of motion secured fastened it to the suit.
Still amazed at what she had just experienced Lois said, “That …that … how am I supposed to put what just happened into words?”
He gave a teasing smile and said, “I have no doubt you’ll think of something.” He opened the window, turned to her and said, “Now don’t forget you have to track down those two people for …. Clark. Good-night Miss Lane, thank you for the help.”
Lois wanted to tell him she knew how to do her job, when the astonishing sight of the brightly garbed young man flying out the window and into the night caught her off guard. She quickly closed the window, and then looked at her fridge. “How did he know I only had one cream soda left?”
