Clark wasn’t sure about the deep blue contrasting with the bright red and exploding yellow touches, but he had to admit that it would draw attention away from his face. It would also look really good in flight. And, he admitted to his dad, it was better than the other suits his mother had made. He didn’t look like a popsicle, nor did he resemble a rainbow protestor’s banner or the mythological Mercury suffering from an attack of mucus clogs.
His mom leaned back and looked at him, then said, “Hair gel.”
He looked back, drew confused eyebrows down, and answered, “Nose piercings.”
She chuckled. “No, I mean you should use hair gel when you wear this outfit. It’ll help to differentiate Clark from whoever this guy is. By the way, do you know what you’re going to be called?”
“Not yet. I may just let someone in the media name me.”
His dad called out, “You mean someone like that redhead you’ve been talking about?”
Clark grimaced. “Not necessarily. And how did you know what Cat looks like, anyway?”
Jonathan leaned into the sewing room. “Your mom showed me the Planet’s website. They have color pictures of a lot of the reporting staff. And I didn’t know for sure about Cat until you just confirmed it. Y’all call her ‘Cat’ like ‘meow-meow?’ And is she the one who chased you away from Met U?”
“Cat is short for Catharine, Dad! And no one chased me away! I made a choice and it turned out pretty well, don’t you think?”
Martha pulled an old trunk from under the spare bed in the room. “It did,” she said, “but you were still running on hormones back then, and something happened with her that upset you enough to come home. We know it wasn’t your grades, either. You were handling the workload just fine. Do you want to tell us just what went down back then?”
Clark’s mouth moved but no sound came out. After an uncomfortable amount of time had passed, he sighed and said, “Okay, you’ve already guessed that it was a relationship gone bad. She wasn’t totally honest with me, and I acted like a moron when she tried to come clean about herself. She and I have already discussed the matter and agreed to behave like adults.”
Jonathan crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb. “Sounds good. And either she doesn’t know about your extra talents or she does know and has never revealed that she knows. Either way, that’s one worry I can cross off my list.”
Martha reached out and tapped his chest. “This is too blank. You need something here, maybe an insignia of some kind. Let me dip into my bag of tricks and see what I have.”
“Thanks, Mom. And Dad, I’m glad I can alleviate one of your concerns.”
“Don’t be too glad yet, Son. I have another concern to replace it. She obviously knows you very well. I wonder what she’ll think when she sees you in that suit.”
“It’s been eight years, Dad. I’m sure we’ve both changed.”
“You’ve been working with her for what, almost three months now?”
“Not quite. I’m due for my initial performance review in another month or so, and if I pass muster I’ll be on permanent status.”
“But what if—”
“Got it!” Martha cried out. “This will work perfectly.”
She held a triangle of fabric against the suit. “It was on the blanket you were wrapped in when your ship landed. This looks like a stylized ‘S’ to us, but I’m sure it means something different to your people. If anyone asks you who you are, just point to your chest and smile like you know something about his or her sister.”
“Mom! Come on!”
“No, Clark, you come on! No one’s going to be looking at your face. That’s why they call them tights. Now climb out of that suit so I can add the symbol.”
Clark crossed his arms and frowned at his mother. As if on cue, they turned their heads to Jonathan as if silently asking him to intervene.
Jonathan lifted his hands as signaling that he refused to take sides in this fight. He did, however, say, “Why don’t the two of you come watch the colonists’ transport launch with me? It’s sure to be exciting.”
“As soon as I add this piece,” Martha answered. “We’ll be there in five minutes or less.”
*****
Each of the people in the slowly moving line of colonists was wearing an expression of bored excitement. Cat watched the TV, grinning like she’d just had a pigeon appetizer, when she fixated on a brunette who was wiggling like she needed a ladies’ room.
It was Lois.
Cat grabbed Perry’s arm and nearly pulled it off. “Chief!” she hissed. “Lois is in the loading queue for the colonists’ shuttle!”
“What? Where?”
“Right there, third from the hatch!” Cat took a step forward and crumpled her hands into fists. “That idiot is going up to the space station with them!”
“Come on, Cat! You can’t tell who that is from this distance. Besides, Lois has better sense than to pull a stunt like that. Taking off without an acceleration couch would cripple her if it doesn’t kill her.”
Cat turned and gritted her teeth at her boss. “You know I can read body language, Chief!” she hissed again. “I’m telling you that’s Lois! I know her walk, the way she does that little hitching limp, the way she holds her shoulders when she’s on a story! You know I’m right and you know how she is! If she can’t write about it or shoot it she won’t bother to remember anything about it!”
“So what do you want me to do, call them and tell them they have a stowaway? The cops would trace the call back here before you could put on your blue suede shoes. They’d be busy for the rest of the week processing the arrests. Who would believe me? And how could she dodge the security restrictions? It’s gotta be tighter than a pair of Priscilla’s Secret undies over there, especially after all the stuff with Baines and Platt!”
“But we have to—”
“No, we don’t have to. I’m not convinced that’s really her, but if Lois is really that stupid, all we can do is make sure her obituary is up to date.”
“Perry, please!” Cat’s eyes grew damp. “She’s my best friend. We’ve saved each other’s lives more than once. I can’t let her die like that!”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re not letting her do anything. At this point, there’s nothing you could do. You’ll have to watch the launch just like everyone else.”
A tear made its way down her cheek. All she said – all she could manage to say – was, “She’s my best friend.”
He put one arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “I know, honey.” He turned to watch the monitor with her. “It’s a good thing EPRAD went over the booster engines with a fine-toothed comb and found that flaw Platt was talking about. It took ‘em most of a month, but at least we know the shuttle won’t burst into flames on the launch pad.”
Cat wiped her face and barely held in her sob. “How do you do it, Perry? How do you keep going when you lose your friends?”
He squeezed a little harder for a few seconds, then released her. “I could tell you to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, but that’s not the whole story. You just do it. If you hang around this business long enough, you’re going to lose people. Good people. People you love and who love you. I wish that weren’t so, honey, but it is. Besides, it might not be Lois after all.”
It’s Lois, thought Cat. I’m watching my best friend take her final steps and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Jimmy turned to Eduardo and grabbed his arm. “Man, this is great! All those people going to space at once! It’s gonna be bigger than the Mercury and Gemini and Apollo and the old shuttle missions all rolled into one!”
Cat’s hands found her face. Then she pulled them down and forced herself to watch what she was sure were Lois’ last moments on Earth.
*****
Jonathan patted the couch next to his son. “You know, if the helping out thing doesn’t work for you, there’s probably a place who’ll pay you to advertise their grape juice.”
Martha tried not to chortle. Clark merely gave his dad a stern look and sat a foot above the couch, his cape draped over Jonathan’s shoulder. Their game abruptly stopped as the TV announcer said, “We’re being told now that there’s a problem with the shuttle. Not only has the countdown been halted – and we emphasize that it has been halted, not paused – there’s a report of a bomb threat aboard the craft. This report has not been verified. We repeat, there is a problem with the shuttle—”
Jonathan would have urged Clark to go help, but when he turned his head he realized that he would have been speaking to empty air.
*****
Lex Luthor listened to the report with a thin smile on his lips. The destruction of the first EPRAD shuttle during the final engine test should have been enough to convince the Council of Nations to terminate the entire program, but thanks to Platt’s interference the crew had survived. Once the colonists’ transport went down, though, he’d have the leverage he needed to take over the entire space program. The money his companies would make producing and marketing the technological advances would fill his coffers many times over. It would have been better had the shuttle actually taken off, but an explosion on the launch pad would have nearly the same result.
Then the announcer mentioned the bomb threat.
He leaned forward, his eyes ablaze. “No one was supposed to find that,” he muttered.
“No one should have been able to do so,” added Asabi.
Asabi. He’d forgotten the Hindu servant was in the room with him. He’d find a way to blame the man from India if this didn’t work. And if the bomb still destroyed the shuttle, he’d figure out how badly Asabi had screwed up.
He checked his watch. Only twenty-three seconds to go. Maybe the plan would work after all.
*****
Lois pulled out the pocketknife she knew she wasn’t supposed to have and started working on pulling the explosive material from the wall. It looked like a block of Semtex, a plastic explosive similar to C4 which would put a fairly large hole in the wall and destroy anything behind it.
She also knew that it would damage the transport badly enough to make it unusable. Her only options were to run from the danger – something she was trained not to do – or to try to remove the bomb from the vehicle. She didn’t think she had enough time to throw it far enough to keep the transport safe, either. She’d have to carry it as far as she could.
She deliberately didn’t think about what her body would look like when the bomb finally exploded – assuming they found enough of it to identify her.
Then she ran out of time.
The digital display counting down the seconds showed a big red “0:00:04” when some guy in a blue clown suit jumped into the compartment and stared at the clock timer for a moment. Then he did something completely idiotic and unbelievable.
He finished pulling the bomb – timer and explosive – off the wall and stuck it in his mouth.
She forced herself not to flinch. At that distance from the bomb, it would make strawberry pudding out of his entire upper body and kill her instantly. The transport vehicle wouldn’t be destroyed, but it would be damaged, probably too badly to use any time soon.
Of course, neither she nor the clown would know about it.
Then he swallowed.
The bomb went off.
And his body contained the explosion.
She couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it. This was impossible. But all the guy did was burp and emit some smoke. He tapped his chest with one fist and said, “Pardon me.”
And she still refused to believe it.
After ten of the longest seconds of her life, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. It was solid, muscular, and dense. He looked real. He’d spoken, so he sounded real. He’d swallowed the bomb – impossible, but apparently he’d really done it.
Either this was some kind of joke the angels were playing on the newly dead Lois Lane or this guy was real.
By the time she got enough air back in her lungs to speak, Commander Letterman was standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. “What’s going on here? Who are you people? What just happened?”
Her hand lifted as if on a marionette’s string and pointed at the blue-and-red clown. “There was a bomb. He – ate it.”
Letterman’s gaze focused on Lois. “Not funny, Miss – who are you, anyway? You’re not part of the crew or one of the passengers.”
The question snapped her out of her fugue. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet. I’m here to cover the transport launch.”
“Oh, really? How do we know you didn’t plant that bomb?”
The blue clown lifted one hand. “Excuse me, Captain, but when I came in, she was trying to stop the detonation. She definitely wasn’t acting like a terrorist.”
“Oh, sure, now I’m supposed to believe you swallowed an explosive big enough to bring down the transport and it didn’t hurt you.”
The blue-clad man lifted his legs and sat cross-legged in the air. “I doubt many terrorists can do this, Captain.”
Letterman’s eyes widened and he blinked several times. “Uh – no, I guess they can’t.”
A little girl in a wheelchair rolled up to him and smiled. “Hi. My name’s Amy. I like your outfit. It’s pretty.”
He floated down beside her and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Amy. My mother made it for me.”
“Do you think I could learn to fly, too?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you could fly. But walking is possible with the work these folks will be doing in space.”
A voice chose that moment to come over the intercom. “Attention. The engines have been deactivated. The launch is cancelled. I repeat, the engines have been deactivated and the launch is cancelled. Disembarkation will commence in thirty minutes. Once again—”
A woman – apparently the little girl’s mother – sighed deeply. “That’s it, then. It’s over.” Her shoulders slumped and she turned her face away from Amy.
“Why?” asked Lois. “Can’t you just restart the engines?”
Letterman shook his head. “Once they’re ignited, they can’t be restarted. They’re single-use units and would have to be replaced. And we don’t have any spares available. We’re done.”
“No. You’re not done.”
Everyone turned to look at the guy in blue. “There’s nothing wrong with the transport itself,” he said. “You just need to get up to the station. I can help you there.”
“How?” asked Lois.
He smiled and lit up the room. “Simple. I’ll give you a boost.”
*****
Luthor paced through his office muttering about the failure of the bomb. He sent several glares of doom toward Asabi, who desperately wanted to flee the room but knew that doing so would surely mean his death. He might yet die if he stayed, but at least there was some chance to live. Perhaps he could shift the blame to the underling who had actually placed the bomb where it could be seen and possibly dealt with.
Then he looked at the monitor on the wall and said “yah kaise hua?” in Hindi. Luthor stopped pacing and turned to see what had caught his minion’s attention.
Incredibly, the transport was lifting as if being levitated. Both master and servant were spellbound by the sight as it slowly rose from the launch pad. Asabi focused on the announcer’s voice and was dumbstruck.
“Allan, the story I’m getting from ground control is that some guy in a blue suit and – get this, a red cape and red boots – swallowed the bomb—”
“What! He did what?”
“I’m telling you what the controller told me. This guy swallowed the bomb and—”
“Swallowed the bomb? Bob, do you expect me—”
“You know, Allan, I can get through this report a lot faster if you don’t interrupt me.”
“Yes, of course, sorry, please carry on.”
Bob took a deep breath, which made him sound as if he were waiting for Allan to break in again, then continued. “Yes, well, the guy in the blue suit with red cape and boots pulled the bomb off the wall and swallowed it. After the ground crew deactivated the engines, he flew – I know it sounds insane, Allan! I’m telling you what I was told.”
“Didn’t say a word.”
“Then don’t look like you’re going to explode. Anyway, this blue-suited guy flew to the underside of the transport, and when they told him the hatches were all sealed, he lifted it up and is now flying it out into space.” Bob threw down a thin sheaf of paper. “If I wasn’t watching it myself, live and in person, I wouldn’t believe it. But that’s what we’ve been told, folks, and it appears to be the truth.”
Luthor reached out and turned down the volume. “Well, Asabi, it appears that this was not your failure after all. We’ll have to work on handling this new player on the scene.”
Asabi bowed to keep his master from seeing his continued fear and sudden relief. “Very good, sir. Shall I begin by assembling a task force to look into this new character?”
Luthor bowed. “Yes. First, though, I want you to find out how long it takes him to lift the transport to the space station and then return to Earth.”
“Yes, sir. I shall make it my priority.”
Neither man saw the brunette figure at the bottom left corner of the screen, standing near the launch pad and watching the transport disappear from sight.
*****
Cat paced across the news floor, muttering to herself. She’d already submitted a brief article about the abortive bomb attack which would probably end up as a sidebar on the flying man story. The only thing it lacked was a quote from either Lois or one of the EPRAD officials about just what happened to the bomb.
Perry tried to stop her and get her to sit down. “Come on, Cat, take a load off. Lois will be back when she gets back and not—”
“Look out the big window! There they are!”
Jimmy’s outburst galvanized everyone in the room. The man in blue carried Lois in his arms as gently as a mama cat with a new kitten, and Cat took an immediate dislike to the flying man just because of the simile that her mind had generated. He set Lois down beside her desk, and Cat got to see her friend’s face.
Lois’ jaw was hanging open and her eyes were saucers. She brushed back her hair with one hand and waved at her desk with the other. “How – how did you know it was mine?”
The flying man crossed his arms and inclined his head at the desk. “My first clue was the nameplate with ‘Lois Lane’ printed on it.”
Lois’ only reaction was a stammered “Ah – uh – ah—”
Cat didn’t need to see or hear any more. Lois was acting like a star-struck teen at her first live concert and Cat was infuriated. “Lois!” she snapped out.
“What? Oh, Cat this is – wait a minute, I didn’t catch y—”
Cat’s right cross struck Lois along the left side of her jaw and nearly knocked her down. Before Cat could hit her again, the blue man stepped in front of Cat and grabbed her upper arms, then held her back out of reach of anyone else.
Cat felt something oddly familiar in his grip. Somehow it reminded her of Clark cradling her when the helicopter had exploded. Then Hurricane Lois rounded the handsome blue impediment and leaned into Cat’s face.
“What is WRONG with you? Why did you slug me? What did I do to you?”
“You almost got yourself killed, that’s what’s wrong! You idiot! You don’t go anywhere without me and you know it! We’re supposed to be closer than Thelma and Louise, together all the way! I’ve got your back, remember?”
Instead of screaming back, Lois stepped away and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I was trying to get the scoop, Cat. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to risk you.”
Cat was back to fighting sobs instead of throwing punches. The man in blue released her and took a step back. “Risk me? Don’t you understand? We’re joined at the hip! We’re the next thing to sisters, two survivors in a lifeboat! We – Oh, Lois, what would I do without you?”
Cat lunged forward and grabbed Lois in the mother of all bear hugs and dropped her face onto her friend’s shoulder. They stayed that way for several long breaths, then Cat broke the clinch and swiped at her eyes. Jimmy put his camera on Lois’ desk and offered her a box of tissues. “Thanks, Jimmy.”
Lois wiped her own eyes once and turned back to the blue-clad flying man. “I – uh – I’m sorry. We’re usually more professional than this.”
“That’s fine, Miss Lane. Everyone has interesting days on occasion.” He lifted into the air and floated toward the big window where he’d flown Lois into the room. “If you folks will excuse me, I have some things to take care of.”
“Hey, wait!” called Lois. “You owe me an exclusive interview.”
He turned to her and grinned almost playfully. “Is that the rule?”
“Well – yes, it is. When do you plan to pay off your debt?”
“As soon as I have something newsworthy to tell you.”
“Yeah – but – how will I find you?”
“Don’t worry,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll be around.”
Cat watched the exchange with a smile on her face. “So did you get his phone number?”
Without turning her head, Lois answered, “What? Oh – uh – I don’t even know if he has a phone.”
Cat laughed softly. Lois slowly turned and put her fists on her hips. “What’s so funny?”
Cat shook her head, still chuckling. “It’s not exactly funny. It’s just – I never thought I’d see the day.”
“What, a flying man?”
“No. Lois Lane swept off her feet.” Cat paused, then added, “Literally.”
Perry stepped forward. “Olsen? Pictures?”
He smiled and nodded. “Several in the air and almost as many on the floor.”
“That’s a relief. Lois, honey, tell me you at least got this guy’s name!”
“Huh? No, we didn’t exchange – wait, the symbol on his chest looks like a big ‘S’ – Super!”
Jimmy goggled. “His name is Super?”
“No! The man is super – yes, that’s it! Superman!”
Cat tasted the name on her tongue and decided yes, Lois was right, his name should be Superman. But there was something else, some other name sharing her mouth. She just couldn’t form the words, couldn’t push the name out to hear it.
But she would. When it came to reporting the news, Lois had learned most of what she knew from Cat. One thing Cat had learned from Lois was a dogged determination to get the truth, no matter what it was.
*****
Lex straightened his tie one last time as he heard Asabi open the door for his interviewer. Surely the delay in scheduling the interview would work to his advantage, making her over-eager and prone to mistakes on follow-up questions. He’d already planned to pout quite convincingly when she told him that he wouldn’t be the leading headline in the morning paper – an alien spacecraft would have had to land in the Council of Nations’ plaza to push the newly dubbed Superman and his feats off the front page this week.
He was not, however, prepared for the clear-eyed, square-jawed version of Lois Lane who stalked into his private dining room as if she were a cougar and he was a trapped pronghorn antelope.
She all but attacked her chair and pulled a digital recorder from her purse – WayneTech, he noted sourly. “Hope you don’t mind, Mr. Luthor, but I’d hate to misquote you.”
He tried to regain control. “What happened to calling me Lex?”
She fixed him with a scalpel-sharp glare. “Nothing ‘happened’ to it. If we were to meet socially or personally, I would call you Lex. But this is a professional setting, not a personal one. I’m here to interview you, nothing more.”
He nodded. “Very well. Would you prefer to eat and talk at the same time or place one activity before the other?”
Her expression softened half a millimeter. “I think we can do both at once. I know the time you can give the press is limited.”
Mentally he sighed in relief. It was the first sign of concession from her since she’d entered. He hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
Then he noticed the slight swelling at her jawline and pointed at the site. “What happened to you?”
She busied herself with the recorder, then said, “I got distracted and walked into a door.”
Lex’ eyes narrowed with honest concern. “Superman didn’t do that, did he?”
She hunted in her purse for a pencil as she replied, “I think that if Superman had punched me, my head would be in orbit around Mars, assuming it didn’t disintegrate immediately. No, he didn’t touch me without my express permission.”
He exhaled with relief. “Good.”
Lois fixed him with a sharp glare. “Why is that good, Mr. Luthor? Do you have any information about Superman’s intentions or character you’d like to share with my readers?”
He gave her his most charming smile. “No, I do not have any inside information on Superman at all. Everything I know about him at this point in time comes from the media.” He waved to Asabi. “Shall we begin our working dinner with the appetizer?”
*****
That night, just before midnight, he was working at his desk when a tapping noise came from his glass balcony door. He lifted his gaze and was amazed to see the blue-clad, red-caped hero standing – no, floating just off the floor.
Lex walked to the door to open it, then said, “I do have a secretary, Superman. Perhaps you could call her for an appointment.”
Superman floated down to the balcony level. “I could, but then we couldn’t have a private conversation.”
“Ah. A private word with Superman. I feel quite privileged. Please, do come in.”
“Thank you, Mr. Luthor.” The hero glanced around the room and said, “Nice office. Roomy but functional.”
“Thank you.” Lex closed the balcony door and gestured for Superman to follow. “I can recommend an interior decorator if you’re in the market for one.”
Superman smiled and crossed his arms. “Perhaps another time. Right now I’d like to talk to you about your intentions.”
“My intentions toward someone? Perhaps the lovely Miss Lois Lane, whom you flew from the EPRAD launch field to the Daily Planet a few days ago?”
Superman chuckled. “Hardly. Miss Lane can more than take care of herself. If you haven’t already done so, you should check out her military service record. I assure you that she doesn’t need me as a nursemaid. Or as a bodyguard.”
Lex didn’t react visibly, but he was surprised. He’d known that she had been in the military, but that was an aspect of Lois’s life which he had not thought to investigate more deeply. He made a mental note to do so immediately. “I see,” was all he said.
“Actually, I wanted to ask you about your intentions toward the city of Metropolis. I’m thinking of making this my – my home base, for want of a better term, and I’d hate to see it dominated by someone who did not share my goals.”
“What goals might those be?”
Superman turned and slowly walked toward the desk. “I want to see a city which is run for the benefit of the entire populace, not just a few people or just one person. I want to see laws passed and enforced by the will of the entire city.”
Lex forced himself to remain where he was. There was nothing incriminating in the documents within this office. “It sounds almost as if you believe that I would oppose your stated goals.”
Superman turned and leaned on the desk, almost sitting on it. “I have no such belief. I have no evidence that you are anything but a very successful businessman and philanthropist. It’s just that I’d hate to have that impression proven false.”
“Then you would take steps to force me – or, perhaps someone else – to conform to your stated goals?”
“Oh, no, nothing of the kind, I assure you. I’m here to help wherever I can. I have no intention of forcing my will on anyone, from the poorest individual on up to the richest, or on any portion of the population of the city, including the entire political entity. And so that we understand each other on this point, I have no intention of running for political office. My sole intent is to operate within the law, which means that I will be working with the police and the courts to prosecute accused criminals. I may, if the circumstances require it, also do some investigating on my own. And if I run into a situation I can’t handle, well, I’ve made some friends at the Daily Planet, to name just one media outlet, who can help me dig out information. But I will not impose my will or my ethics on anyone. I intend to operate within the law or not at all.”
“Hmm. Then you are not challenging me – or anyone else – in any way, shape, form or fashion?”
Superman shook his head. “No, Mr. Luthor, I am not. As I’ve already said, I have no evidence which is admissible in court which would incriminate you or anyone else. I’m telling you all this so that you may, if you choose to do so, pass on my assurances of good will to the others who move in your social circle.”
“Interesting. And why would anyone believe what I have to say about you?”
“I’m afraid I’m using you as a short cut, or perhaps ‘stalking horse’ would be a more accurate term. You are the richest man in a city full of millionaires, and if you believe that I’m honest and sincere, you would tell your acquaintances, and not only would it help me to have people trust me, it would go a long way toward eliminating any attempt at bribery as a way to influence me.”
“Ah. A pre-emptive strike, as it were.”
“With the caveat that the only penalties to be suffered for any attempts at bribery would be enforced against the hypothetical person offering this potential bribe by the legal system and not by me personally.”
“I understand. You do realize, of course, that were this hypothetical person an actual person who heard and understood your little speech here, he or she might declare that the games have begun.”
Superman stood and lowered his hands. “I do understand. And I hope you realize that this hypothetical person and I would find no common ground anywhere.” He leaned closer, looming slightly. “None at all, either low or high.”
When Lex didn’t answer after about fifteen seconds, Superman straightened and smiled. “I think I’ve taken enough of your time, Mr. Luthor. I’ll let you get back to work.” He walked to the balcony doors and opened them gently, then drifted upward. “And perhaps you could let our hypothetical opponent know that should he or she wish to see me, all that would be needed would be to look up.” He looked down and smiled, then said, “Good night.”
Lex watched the man drift up and out of sight. The comment about looking up concerned him, as did the veiled warning about an investigation by Superman, whose legal status had not yet been established by the city’s court system. Perhaps a conversation with District Attorney Mayson Drake would not be out of order, provided that his argument against using Superman as some sort of super-policeman was presented with a gentle hand.
At any rate, this new adversary promised to present a true challenge to his dominance in the city. It would be an interesting contest, one he had no intention of losing.
********
"yah kaise hua" is, according to Google translate, Hindi for "How did this happen?"
