The next morning, a busy yet self-indulgent Lex Luthor selected the fabric for his new suits, gave the tailor a near-impossible completion date, rushed him out of the office, then sat down at his desk as his faithful servant poured a cup of imported Brazilian coffee for him. “Thank you, Asabi.”
“Will there be anything else, Mr. Luthor?”
“Not at the moment, no. Please see to Ms. Kahn’s comfort. I’m sure she won’t want to repeat that fall from the roof any time soon.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Oh, Asabi? I mean that literally. Make sure she’s calm and comfortable before she returns home, and make every sort of hospitality available to her. We absolutely do not want her to be injured or even discomfited in any way whatsoever.”
“Very good, sir.”
As Asabi turned to leave, Lex picked up a report on his hi-tech affiliate. WayneTech was still ahead of LexData in sales volume, value, and product line innovation. Perhaps there was someone in Wayne’s main office who—
There was a “thump” from the open balcony door. He looked up and saw the blue-and-red-clad hero leaning against the door jamb. “Superman! The man who is stronger than a locomotive and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. To what do we owe this honor?”
“I think we need to talk, Lex. May I come in?”
Lex gave him his most charming smile. “Of course. Please do. Can I get you anything? Coffee, soft drink, or perhaps something with more of a kick in it?”
“Thanks, but no. I wouldn’t get anything out of it.”
“Oh, yes, of course, you’re the invulnerable Man of Steel.”
Superman picked up a long sword from its wooden display rack on the wall beside the balcony door. “You seem to have a dizzying array of nicknames for me.”
“Not original with me, I assure you. Those names are all courtesy of the national press, if not the international. Especially given your feats of – what are you doing? That longsword is a valuable antique.”
Superman flipped the sword in the air and caught it by the blade. “Do you recall our conversation some weeks ago, the one we had right after I first appeared in public? I asked you to pass along my – I guess ‘admonition’ is as good a term as any – to you and your peer group not to engage in illegal activities in the city. Yet that’s exactly what’s happened this week. Two people, one of whom works directly for you and another who works for a charity you support heavily, went to the roofs of high buildings at the same time earlier this week—” he stared at the sword for a moment. It seemed to go limp. Then he easily bent the blade into a Mobius strip “—and both jumped off within seconds of one another. One of them said something about a test. A suspicious man – or a paranoid one – might easily see a connection to you. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Superman’s creating the Mobius strip – from pure medieval steel – impressed Lex with both his power and control. He couldn’t let his visitor know that, of course. “All I know is that you’ve badly damaged a First Crusade combat sword. I could sue you.”
“Oh, yes, I suppose you could.” He gently laid the sword on the floor and opened a wooden box sitting on the edge of Luthor’s desk. “I don’t know how you’d serve that subpoena, though.” He lifted a pearl-handled, silver-plated 1873 Colt .45 caliber single-action Army revolver out of the box and spun the cylinder. “This is a nice historic item too, isn’t it?” Luthor nodded. “And it’s loaded, too. How convenient.”
Superman spun the pistol on his index finger like a Hollywood gunfighter. “You’ve seen how strong I am. Of course, that should have been evident at the Carlin building bombing. It should also have been evident that I can’t be hurt by any conventional means.”
Luthor took a step back. He knew his face showed real alarm. “Well, yes, I happened to catch the TV broadcast. I’m seriously considering entering the media market with an outlet—”
“Before you do that—” Superman cocked the pistol and pointed it at Luthor’s chest. “—you really should know how fast I am.”
Lex took two more steps back. “Wait – you don’t mean – you’re not going to shoo—”
BANG!
His cigar fell from his mouth and hit the rug below. His hands flew to his chest to search for the bloody wound he was certain he’d just suffered.
But he hadn’t been shot. He hadn’t received so much as a scratch.
Superman stood before him, holding a barely dented smoking bullet in his fingers. The hero grinned and placed it in Luthor’s hand. The heat from the spent round burned his palm and he dropped it beside his smoldering cigar.
Great, he thought, now I have to replace the lion-pelt rug as well as the sword.
Superman leaned in to whisper in Luthor’s ear. “The tests stop now, Lex. Pass that on to your high-society buddies.”
The blue fool spun on his heel and headed toward the balcony. He was about to exit the room by the time Luthor regained enough voice control to ask without squeaking, “What if they don’t?”
Superman stopped and turned back. “I’m sorry. Despite my enhanced hearing, I believe I must have misunderstood you.”
“I asked, ‘what if they don’t?’ If the tests don’t stop, that is. Just for the sake of argument, what would happen should these tests – assuming that is indeed what they truly are – do not stop?”
Superman crossed his arms and seemed to increase his density. “That would be a bad idea for someone to have. The tests need to stop, mainly because they’re endangering people. They’re also taking up my time, which should be spent helping at real accidents and disasters. As a bonus – and not a good bonus – they’re irritating me. I’d certainly hate to unleash the wrath of Superman on whoever is responsible.”
“Yes, about that.” Luthor picked up his suit coat and settled it on his shoulders as he spoke. “The person – or persons – responsible for these tests, assuming these events actually are tests, isn’t likely to terminate them simply because you say so, especially if I say that you said so. Without admitting to any responsibility, I, for example, would not stop them.”
“Why not?”
A victorious smile threatened to escape Luthor’s control, but he held it back. “Simple, really. If these actions truly are tests, they are being run by someone who obviously has little, if any, regard for life or property. You have insisted to me that you will work within the law on all levels and not behave as a super-vigilante, wantonly and randomly executing ‘justice’ upon those who oppose you or your ideals. I believe that is exactly what you will – and will not – do. So, pending some legal action proving someone’s complicity in this alleged testing scheme, your hands are effectively tied.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Superman turned to leave, but Luthor called him back again. “Wait. I believe you have overlooked something very important.”
“What’s that?”
“As long as you are in Metropolis, people will be in danger. And if the difficulty of the tests keeps ramping up, as these seem to have done, some innocents will die – or at least be gravely injured – and it will be your fault. Do you really want that on your conscience?”
It was a direct hit. Luthor watched the hero’s thought processes catch up to the conclusion to which he’d led the muscle-bound moron. He should learn to control his body language better, thought Lex, or he’ll never be able to keep a secret.
The moment passed. The blue flyboy turned and flashed out into the late afternoon glare.
Dinner tonight would be a good one for Lex. Not only had he identified Superman’s biggest weakness – his real compassion for people – he’d scored points off the hero without giving anything away.
This was working out even better than his original plan. Maybe he’d keep the burned rug and damaged sword as mementos of his pending victory.
*****
Dana Friskin smiled at Lois as her patient strode into the consulting room. “Good afternoon, Lois. How are you feeling today?”
Lois flopped down on the couch and crossed her arms. She stared at her feet and said, “I guess you saw the morning paper, huh?”
Dana nodded slowly. “I did. And I’m glad you weren’t hurt any worse than you were.”
“I assume you read the part where someone set off the bomb when Superman was right in the middle of the kill zone?”
“The Daily Planet didn’t call it that, but yes, I read that part.”
Lois fidgeted for a long moment, then turned to the doctor and said, “I don’t understand why someone would test him like that.”
Dana’s ears all but pivoted like an ocelot’s hearing prey rustling nearby. “That little tidbit wasn’t in the paper. How do you know that someone is testing Superman?”
“The fake suicides earlier this week – one of them babbled about a test of some kind – the Carlin building bomb, and the ultra-high frequency tone that he could hear but no one else could. Clark said Superman told him it was up around 90,000 hertz. The normal human ear can hear up to about 20,000 hertz. My hearing tops out around 12,000, maybe thirteen on a good day, because of all the loud percussive noises I was exposed to in weapons training and in combat. Even then the top end is fuzzy. Sometimes I have a hard time hearing what other women or little kids tell me, especially if they don’t over-pronounce their words or they’re speaking in high-pitched tones. It’s why I don’t bother watching Marilyn Monroe comedies or Mickey Mouse cartoons on TV.” She grabbed the nearest pillow and forcefully fluffed it. “I’m glad you’re an alto.”
“I assume Superman found the tone generator?”
“Yes. It was also connected to a pipe bomb, like the one in the Carlin building, so to be safe he flew it at his best speed out of Suicide Slum up into the stratosphere before it blew. Apparently that one was supposed to determine how he’d react to a threat in a residential neighborhood, or maybe how quickly he could think and disarm a threat.”
Dana sat back and frowned. “That someone cares so little about endangering innocent lives that he or she or they would put them at risk is disturbing.”
“It’s disturbing to me, too. But it’s a pretty strong indication that there really is a ‘Boss’ running the crime in Metropolis. Information about Superman would be extremely valuable to him.”
“Well, I’m confident that you and your coworkers can discover the identity of this person and bring him to justice. Now let’s talk about you personally, okay?”
Lois shrugged. “Sure. That’s why the VA pays you the big bucks.”
Dana smiled at the old joke, then leaned forward. “Anything happening in your personal life lately?”
She reached up and touched the small Band-Aid still on her forehead. “You mean other than this neat little souvenir?”
“Yes. Are you still having problems with Cat?”
Lois slid lower on the couch. “I don’t know. You remember me mentioning Clark Kent, the new guy on the team?” Dana nodded. “Well, Cat told me that she wanted to try to restart their romantic relationship. Trouble is, Clark doesn’t want to, at least that’s what he says. And he – he said he was going to call me tonight but instead he called earlier today and now I have a date with him on Friday.”
Dana wanted to jump up and do a happy dance at the news. “Where are you going?” she said quietly.
“I asked him that very question. He said I should – and I quote – ‘dress up and glam out.’ Makes me think it’s going to be some place special.”
Dana’s voice lowered in both volume and timbre. “So, how does that make you feel?”
“Conflicted.”
“Conflicted how?”
Lois sighed deeply. “Cat’s my best friend. I’d take a bullet for her, and if Clark was unsure which of us he wanted to date I’d step aside and smile.” She snorted. “I’d hate it, but I’d do it.” She looked directly at Dana. “But he turned her down before he knew how I’d answer him. I really, really want to go out with him, Doc. Maybe – maybe I want more than that from him.”
“Like what?”
Lois stood and slowly paced around the couch. “You know I don’t like the term PTSD, right? I – I think it’s because – because the guys who really have it have serious problems in their personal relationships. I talked to a guy in the hospital in Germany who couldn’t sleep without medicating himself with booze or drugs, couldn’t go to the range to stay qualified as a rifleman because of the noise, and nearly killed a nurse because she walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.” She waved her hands in opposing circles as she changed her pacing pattern. “I – I didn’t tell you that I almost shot Cat a few weeks ago because she walked up on me as I was waking up one – oh.” She stopped moving.
Dana probed gently. “Um, Lois, it’s not the best idea to stop talking to your therapist in the middle of a sentence and say ‘oh.’ It’s one of the first things they teach us in shrink school. It usually means the patient just connected some dots.”
Lois nodded and resumed her pacing. “Yeah. That – that was Clark’s first day at the paper. I’d been dreaming about Sarah Ferguson getting wounded, and I was meaner to him that morning than maybe I should have been. If he’s seen me like that – if he’s seen my Harley Quinn-type crazy and still wants to hang with me, maybe – maybe I’m not as crazy as I sometimes think I am. Maybe I can be Sandra Bullock to his Hugh Grant instead.”
Dana slowly reached out and grasped Lois’ hand as she went past. “Then go out with him. Talk to him. Listen to him. It might be that he needs a – oh, ‘lover’ isn’t the right word, but I’d hate to settle on ‘girlfriend.’ That sounds so 1950s to me.”
Lois chuckled and sat down again. “I get it. He might be ‘The One’ and he might not, but if I keep pushing him away he’ll definitely be ‘The One Who Got Away.’ Hey, did I tell you we had an argument when he asked me out?”
Dana laughed. “No, but I can’t say I’m surprised. With this kind of start, your relationship should be very interesting.”
“Interesting. Huh. I guess ‘May you have interesting relationships’ is a corollary to the Chinese curse that says ‘May you live in interesting times.’ Even if we just end up as friends, that would be a good description.”
“That’s a nice smile. Don’t forget that you can smile at Clark, too. Now, before we go on to other things, I want to tell you something. As your therapist, of course, but also as your friend.”
Lois leaned closer. “This I’ve got to hear.”
“Okay, here it goes. I want you to enjoy the evening for whatever it is. Not for what it might be or for what you’d like it to be or what you think Clark wants it to be. Just relax and give yourself permission to have a good time with a man you’ve described to me as good and kind and sensitive and patient. Think you can do that?”
Lois’ smile nearly touched her ears. “I’m pretty sure I can, Doc. In fact, that was already my operational plan.”
“Good. Now, can we talk about that veterans’ group meeting?”
Lois’ smile inverted. “I’d rather not. Thinking about going to one of those makes me feel like I might be going to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.”
Dana shrugged. “I can’t make you go, and I wouldn’t try to in any case. But it’s something to think about. I also think you’d benefit from hearing other vets’ stories.”
Dana could tell from Lois’ body language that she’d rather talk about getting shot or blown up.
*****
Clark liked the way Lois leaned against her front door, relaxed and supple all at the same time, with a soft smile gently elbowing her cheeks apart. “That was a wonderful dinner, Clark. How did you find that restaurant?”
He found himself wishing he could take her in his arms and hold her until they fell asleep just so he could see that smile first thing in the morning. Instead, he said, “I’ve found quite a few surprising places in Metropolis in the time I’ve been here.”
She reached out and took his hand. “And you without a car. You must spend a fortune on your shoes.”
“They’re less expensive than the auto insurance in this city.”
They shared a soft laugh. “Oh, I wish this date would last forever,” she sighed. “But all good things must come to an end.”
He leaned over slightly and kissed her forehead. “We’ll have other dates, Lois.”
“Mmm. Will we?”
He tilted his head to one side and whispered in her ear. “I certainly hope so.” He moved to kiss her forehead again, then said, “Although we might want to go to a place with less expensive chocolate next time. I didn’t know you were such a chocolate lover.”
He moved back as she shook her head and smiled. “No-no-no, not a chocolate lover. Nor am I a chocolate fancier, connoisseur, aficionado, or mere enthusiast. I am, without a doubt, the Daily Planet’s resident chocoholic.”
“I will make a note of that.”
“You’d better. I don’t want to have to remind you every time we see each other.”
He returned her smile. “Anyway, I’m glad you liked the place. You pick the restaurant next time, okay? And we don’t have to go Dutch. I can pick up the whole check.”
She took his hands in hers, and he was pleased to see how relaxed she appeared. “Deal. As long as I pay for the meal the time after that.”
He smiled back. “Planning ahead, are we?”
She lifted his hands and kissed the middle knuckle on each one. “Yes, I am. You have a problem with that, Kansas?”
He tugged one hand free and cupped her face with it. “No. No problem at all.” He lowered his other hand and slipped away. “Good night, Lois. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Clark.”
He turned as if leaving, but she called out, “Clark? Can you – can you wait a minute?”
He looked over his shoulder and said, “Sure. What’s up?”
“I – I have a – a favor to ask you.”
He knew he’d do almost anything she asked of him. He turned to face her and said, “What is it?”
“I – I have a – an appointment on Tuesday evening. It – it’s a meeting.”
“What kind of meeting?”
She looked away and said, “It’s something my therapist wants me to get involved in. I – she wants me to meet other vets who have PTSD.”
He waited for her to speak for a long moment, then asked, “What’s the favor?”
She frowned. “To go with me, dummy. That’s what I asked you.”
“You didn’t actually ask me, you just hinted at it and I didn’t want to make an unwarranted assumption.” He lifted one index finger. “But I’ll go under two conditions.”
She tilted her head and frowned at him. “What conditions?”
“First, that you feel free to change your mind about me going with you. Or changing the date without feeling like you’re inconveniencing me.”
“All that’s the first condition, right?” He nodded to her. “No problem,” she said. “What’s the second condition?”
“That if anyone at the meeting feels really uncomfortable with me being there, I leave immediately. And neither one of us objects.”
She exhaled slowly. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this.”
“I have. And I’ve decided that because I’m not a war veteran, I won’t force myself on the ones who are or who think I’m not ready to hear their stories.”
She nodded. “That’s a good reason. But I don’t think it will be a problem. You wouldn’t be the only boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse or close friend or significant other there.”
“Oh? Cat’s attended a meeting?”
She met his eyes directly – too directly, he thought later. “No. She’s never been.”
“You haven’t invited her?”
“I’ve never been myself.”
“Ah.” He paused for a moment, thinking about what a revealing conversation they were having, then quirked his lips to one side in a half-smile. “I guess it’ll be a first for both of us.”
“Guess so.” They were both silent for a long moment, then she said, “Good night, Clark. I think we both need some sleep tonight.”
“We do.” He brushed her hair over the bandaged cut on her forehead. “Good night, Lois. Like I said, sleep well.”
He walked to the elevator and reached for the call button, then stopped and looked back at her with raised eyebrows. She laughed softly, then reached into her purse and pulled out her front door key. He smiled again and pressed the button as she unlocked the first deadbolt.
*****
Then Clark was gone and Lois was inside the apartment where she leaned against the door and threw the locks as if in a dream state.
From the dark abyss of the apartment, Lucy said, “That must have been some date.”
Lois jerked into combat-alert mode at the first sound, then realized who was speaking. She all but ran to her sister and grabbed her and spun her around. “It was! It was some date!”
“Urrggh,” Lucy grunted. “Can’t – breathe – let – go!”
Lois abruptly dropped her little sister on the couch and laughed. “Sorry, Punky, but it was wonderful! Hey, I thought you were going out with Jimmy tonight.”
“Hang on.” She stood and slowly took three deep breaths. “Wow, you could still crush me in a fight. Anyway, Jimmy called because he had to work late. We rescheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The Shakespeare In the Park company is doing Hamlet at the Riverside Center for the Performing Arts. He said the funniest scenes are when a helicopter or plane flies overhead and drowns out the dialogue. The actors just stand there staring at it as if they’re seeing a UFO.”
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard ‘Hamlet’ and ‘funniest’ used in the same paragraph.”
“It’s even funnier when they drop back into character as if nothing had happened.”
Lois chuckled, then said, “Hey, do you want to hear about my date?”
“Of course I do! Why do you think I’m still up?”
“Great! You make the root beer floats and I’ll get the spoons.”
“Turn on the lights first, okay? I don’t want you to steal my ice cream in the dark.”
*****
Clark walked home in a near-daze, thinking about the list in which Lois had included him. It had sounded as if she thought of him at least as a close friend and at the most a potential spouse. The thought made him want to zone out and float.
The thought that kept his feet on the ground, though, was that there was a lot of ground to cover between where they were at the moment and where he’d like to be.
It was then that he realized that the thought of waking up next to Lois every morning was, to him, something that made him smile unreservedly. There was nothing about Lois – nothing major, at any rate – that put him off the way so many little things about Cat put him off. Lois was fire and stone, almost volcanic, in the way she chased after the truth. Cat sought the truth relentlessly, but Lois would run through a brick wall to find it. He wasn’t sure he’d be able withstand her assault if she targeted him. Cat might try to trap him, but Lois would park a tank on his chest.
Tonight, he thought, boded well for their future together. He’d been concerned that she might slam the door in his face after the date, but instead she let him leave with the prospect of going out with him again.
Not a pity date, either. She wanted to go out with him. And she trusted him enough to ask him to accompany her to an open therapy meeting. The dual thoughts warmed his heart and lent wings to his feet.
He had to force himself down to the sidewalk again.
*****
Mid-morning the next day, Saturday, Lois dropped Lucy off at the park – something about Jimmy’s Taurus being on the fritz – and went to the office to catch up on her paperwork. Cat was there, as was Karen Wells. Cat was legitimately trying to work, and Karen was trying to regale Cat about her latest boyfriend.
When Lois walked off the elevator, Karen apparently decided that Lois would be a more responsive target than Cat, so she swung her hips to Lois’ desk and leaned against the side. “Hi, Lois,” Karen drawled. “How’s life treating you these days?”
Lois smiled and replied, “Just fine, Karen. And you?”
“Oh, let me tell you about my new boyfriend Doug! He and I went out last night, and we went back to his place – he’s got one of those new apartments downtown because he’s a hedge fund manager, whatever that is, and he—”
“Ms. Lane?” a familiar baritone voice called out from above them. “Would you like to interview me now, or should we reschedule?”
Lois saw Karen’s eyes rise until she saw Superman hovering over them. Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged. Lois knew there would be no more mention of Doug the hedge fund manager today. She hid her grin and replied, “Now is an excellent time, Superman. Would you like some coffee? Or maybe a soft drink?”
The blue-clad hero landed softly, then tilted his head and said, “I think I’d like to try a soft drink. People in Metropolis seem to consume a lot of them. Maybe I’ll take up the habit just to be sociable.”
“Of course,” Lois said. She turned and said, “Karen, would you be a dear and get a couple of Cokes for us? I have some dollar bills here.” The woman seemed frozen in space and time. “Karen?” Lois waved her free hand in front of the other woman’s face. “You still in there?”
Cat stood up. “I’ll cover it, Lois. You get your interview started before Superman has to go help at an emergency.”
Lois glanced at Cat, half-expecting her to be at least a little angry, but Cat smiled openly before she took the proffered bills and strode to the vending machines.
“Please,” Lois said, “have a seat and we’ll get started.”
“Of course. Before we do, though, I think—” he gently held Karen’s upper arms and guided her backward to a chair “—the young lady here should sit down.” He settled Karen in the chair, then asked her, “Are you all right?”
Karen’s eyes were locked on the hero’s sharply defined chest. Her mouth moved but no sound came out. She reached for Superman’s arms, but he pulled his hands back before she could grab him. He turned back to Lois. “Please begin whenever you’re ready, Ms. Lane.”
“I think this will work better if you just call me Lois.” Two twenty-ounce bottles of Coca-Cola materialized on Lois’ desk. “Thanks, Cat.”
“No problem. Mind if I listen in?”
“I don’t mind. Superman?”
“Please feel free to listen.”
Lois pulled her recorder from her purse. “May I record this interview?”
“I have no objection. In fact, I think it would be better if you were to record it. That reduces the chance that you’ll accidentally misquote me.”
“Okay. First question. Why did you allow me to label you Superman? You had the opportunity to give me your name.”
He picked up the bottle and examined it for a moment, then spun the cap off and tasted it. “Hmm. Not too bad. I think it actually tastes better than it looks.” He put the cap back on and set the bottle down. “To answer your question about my name, I’m not sure you could pronounce my given name correctly. My native language doesn’t always translate directly into English. And I doubt it would carry the same meaning for you that it does for my people.”
“That brings up a related question. Who are your people?”
He almost smiled. “You’d probably call them ‘aliens,’ I suppose, although if you visited our world you’d be the aliens. I’d rather not tell you or even show you where I’m from. I don’t think an unsolicited visit from the humans of Earth would be welcome.”
“Huh. On some levels that makes perfect sense. But if your people aren’t eager for us visit them, why are you here in the first place?”
“To help.”
“Help? Help what?”
He took a bigger swig of Coke. “Not bad. I think the taste grows on you.” He took another drink and said, “Perhaps first I should tell you what I’m not here to do.”
“Sure, if you think that’s a better way to answer.”
“Very well. I am not here to tell you how to run your planet or your national governments. I am not here to alter your society, although I’m not so naïve as to think I won’t bring changes just by being here and doing the things I’m doing. I’m not here to prepare Earth for colonization by my people. And I’m certainly not here as an advance scout for an invasion. That’s completely absurd, though again I’m sure my statement alone won’t change anyone’s mind, especially if that person is unwilling to listen to reason.
“I’m only here to help, Ms. Lane – excuse me, Lois. Most of my actions will be at natural or man-made disasters, or accidents or active crime scenes. And I’m not here to replace your police forces. From what I’ve seen, generally they do an excellent job with the resources provided them. Nor am I here to investigate corruption or illegal activities. You and your compatriots are far better situated than I to perform those functions. As I said, I’m just here to help.”
Lois nodded. “I like what you’ve said so far, Superman. But I’d prefer a more definite response to the question of why you’re here and how you plan to go about doing whatever it is that you do, something shorter and more on point. Any suggestions?”
He picked up the Coke bottle again and drained it, then frowned in apparent thought. “I’m not coming up with anything at the moment.”
Cat’s voice floated past Lois’ shoulder. “Truth and justice.”
Lois turned and looked at her. “Sorry, what?”
More confidently, Cat repeated, “Truth and justice. Superman is here to fight for truth and justice. Right, Superman?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “I like that. Thank you, Ms. – I’m very sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”
“Cat Grant, Lois’ partner and best friend.”
He caught Lois’ eyes with a questioning look. Lois nodded, and the hero smiled. “That’s very good. I like it. Thank you, Ms. Grant. It will inspire me, too.”
Lois smiled back. “Is there anything about your or your activities that you’d like the Daily Planet’s readers to know?”
“Yes, actually. Some people are in the process of setting up a new non-profit business, the Superman Foundation. We plan to fund it with donations and licensing of my likeness. The money will go to various charitable endeavors yet to be identified.” At Lois’ quizzical cant of her head, he added, “We don’t plan to limit the disbursements to only a few organizations. The board of directors will add suitable recipients as time goes by.”
“Good to know. Can you tell me who’d doing the legal work on this new Foundation?”
“Murray Brown, civil attorney, approached me last month and made the initial suggestion. I thought it was a good idea, especially since some knock-off action figures with my name on the box have already shown up in a few places. Murray showed me the numbers on the licensing fees, and I was a little stunned. I’d no idea an action figure of me could earn that much money.”
Cat chuckled from behind Lois. “So you’re selling dolls now, Superman?”
Superman gave Cat a frown over Lois’ shoulder that might have been amused but might also have been serious. “Murray has insisted that I never refer to the action figure as a ‘doll.’ He claims it would be demeaning to me and would tend to push sales – and license fee collections – down. I don’t completely understand that, but I’m willing to accept his word for it.”
“Thank you,” Lois said. “I assume that a board of directors will operate the foundation?”
“That’s correct, Lois.”
“Can you tell me who is on that board? We got a bare-bones press release on our office fax machine yesterday, but it didn’t have much detail. And none of us have been able to pin Mr. Brown down long enough to ask these questions.”
“I don’t mind being the source. I don’t know who the top candidates are, I’ve only seen the list of names in no particular order, but I’m impressed by the people in the running. There are some elected officials, a few judges, several business leaders, clergy – quite a few of those – and at least one community affairs activist.”
“But you can’t give me any names?”
He shook his head. “If I mention a person who doesn’t end up on the board, it might be embarrassing for that person, for the Foundation, and for me. I can’t tell lessons out of school.”
Lois looked up, surprised at the phrase. “Uh – do you mean, you can’t tell tales out of school?”
Superman’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh, is that the idiom, tell tales out of school? I’m sorry. There are so many in English. And idiomatic British English is almost impenetrable to me sometimes.” He shook his head and mused aloud, “I still don’t know why bad outcomes are described as ‘pear-shaped’.”
Cat chuckled, then stopped when Lois threw a sharp glance over her shoulder. Lois said, “Superman, may I ask you a question off the record?”
“Does that mean you won’t quote me on the answer to this next question?”
“Yes.”
“Go ahead, please.”
She hesitated, then asked, “Is Lex Luthor on the list? Anywhere at all?”
The hero frowned in apparent concentration, then shook his head. “If it’s there, I didn’t see it. But I’ve met Mr. Luthor. He doesn’t strike me as one who has the time to serve on the board of a charity like the Foundation.”
Lois sighed in relief. “Thank you. Back on the record, can you tell me more—”
Superman’s head suddenly snapped around and he stood straight. “I’m sorry, but there’s a high-speed chase on the freeway and the guys being chased are doing over a hundred. I’ll try to get back in a little bit and give you any additional detailed information on the Superman Foundation I have, but right now I must go.”
Then he turned and vanished.
Lois sat still for a long moment, thinking about how much good Superman might do with that Foundation. She’d punch that up as much as she would the humanity that the hero had displayed before them.
Cat exhaled deeply, then turned on the police band receiver on her desk. A minute later the dispatcher repeated what Superman had told them. Cat smiled and switched the unit off. “Looks like you have yet another great story, Lois.”
“Hey, I’m glad you stepped in with the ‘truth and justice’ thing. I was coming up dry.”
“I think you have enough for a banner. ‘First In-Depth Interview With Superman’ by Lois Lane. Perry will love it.”
Lois stood and stretched her shoulders. “Yeah, well, I hope I get to flesh it out a bit more. Hey, do you have plans – oh, sorry, Karen, I kind of forgot about you being here. Karen?” Lois rolled her chair closer to the other woman. “Are you okay?”
Again, Karen’s mouth moved but no sound emerged. And her eyes weren’t focused on Lois but on some point on the wall beyond Lois.
Wearing a straight face, Lois turned to Cat, who was trying but failing to suppress a laugh. “Cat? Will you stay with her while I get her a Coke? I think she needs it.”
Cat snorted as she brushed her hair back over her shoulders. “Are you sure she doesn’t need something stronger?”
*****
Later that evening, after returning to the Planet in the Suit and giving Lois and Cat more details about the Superman Foundation, Clark landed in an uninhabited alley a few blocks from his apartment on Clinton and spun into civvies. As he walked home, he thought about the messages the globe had shown him that morning just after he’d awakened.
At first he’d been stunned.
Then he’d been horrified.
Then he’d felt deeply sad. He’d even shed a couple of tears.
But now he knew. He wasn’t an experiment. He wasn’t a mutant. He wasn’t an advance scout. He hadn’t been tossed away like spoiled leftovers.
He was just a little boy whose parents had given him the best gift possible.
They’d given him life. And a chance to make a real difference.
Not only life, but life with possibly the best people in the Western Hemisphere to raise him, help him see his differences as gifts, coach him to control his emerging abilities, and love him with a love they’d stored up over decades of marriage and yearning to be parents. Even if he did say it himself, he thought they’d done a terrific job. They’d stood beside him, helped him move past those failed schoolboy romances, given him wonderful life advice, and established a home – a safe zone – for him to return to when he needed it. They might not have been perfect, but as far as he was concerned they were so close as to make no difference to him.
He smiled as he envisioned telling his adoptive parents about his origins. It would change nothing between him and them, he knew that, but it would be good for them to know that their finding him was no accident, that their stewardship of an alien child was intentional and not some galactic screwup.
He wished he could have shared all of it with Lois, but he didn’t want the world to know that much about his origins. Clark would tell Lois his Kryptonian name later – if their relationship progressed to that point. And he’d tell her everything about his past, including the parts he’d learned from the globe.
The only thing he wished he’d been told was whether or not he could father children with a human woman. It might make a difference to any prospective bride. The woman would surely want to know if morning sickness was a possibility.
He realized once again that he was lucky that Catharine hadn’t gotten pregnant from their one night together. Overall, that was a good thing for both of them. It would have devastated him to learn that she’d had his child and he’d been absent all this time.
Ah, well, he’d learn about his fecundity – and more things – all in good time.
