* * * * *
Click.
Lois threw the remote across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfying thwack.
Her brief time spent at LNN seemed like a distant memory, a bad memory. How had she ever done it? How had she worked for something so vile? TV media was so maddening! Did they ever even bother to check facts before spouting off about the latest “development”? Was “journalistic integrity” even part of their vocabulary?
Lois brought her knees to her chest and began to rock back and forth. She hated them. Hated the things they were saying about Superman. Yes, she herself had had her doubts about Superman’s sincerity for a minute there, but never in her life would she have dreamed of saying such hurtful things, like the things they were calling him on the so-called “news” shows.
Superman was strong, she knew, but how much of this crap could he take? Her mind brought forth two instances in which he’d been attacked publicly: first, when everyone in Metropolis thought Superman was causing the heatwave, and second, when Arianna Carlin’s syndicated column had pressed multitudes of people to believe that Superman was evil and had been responsible for the death of Lex Luthor, a “great man.” Despite all the criticism and jeers he had received, he hadn’t thrown in the towel. He hadn’t packed up and left the country. He’d stayed, and he’d helped. He’d saved lives. And yet this is how everyone kept repaying him... with insults, accusations, and contempt.
Why are people so awful? Lois wondered. Can’t they look at all the good he’s done? Can’t they empathize with him? Everyone, she was sure, at some point in their lives, had been wrongly accused of something. She certainly had. It felt terrible. Her heart ached for what Superman must be going through.
She didn’t believe a word of it anymore. Superman, she was sure, was not Justin Driver’s father. She could just feel it. Sure, Superman had been evasive with her at the pier. And yes, he was clearly a man with secrets. But maybe he had his reasons. Maybe sharing too much of himself would only lead to more accusations and more trouble. Perhaps he wanted to tell her more, but couldn’t. Okay, fine. It would drive her a bit batty, but she could handle that.
* * * * *
“I’m going to see Michelle Driver again,” Lois announced the next morning.
“Alone?” Clark said.
“Yeah. I have an angle.”
Clark raised an eyebrow.
When Lois arrived at the Driver residence, she found the place even more swarmed than the week before. Reporters from all over the world were literally camping out on the lawn, driveway, and sidewalk. Trailers and motorhomes lined the street. She managed to double park two blocks away and make it to the front porch in short order.
She was met with a hulking security guard blocking the door, but she refused to be intimidated. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet. I was here the other day and spoke to Miss Driver at length. Let her know I’m here.”
“I ain't her secretary,” the man grunted. “And anyways, she’s tired of reporters and doesn’t want to be bothered.”
Forty dollars later, Lois was ringing the doorbell.
A man in a tacky tweed suit answered the door. He opened it just a crack and said, “No one speaks to my client without an appointment. Good day.”
“Lois Lane,” she said loudly. “Tell Michelle I’m here. I spoke with her the other day.”
She was ushered in the door a minute later. “My name is Richard Fennerman,” the tweed-suited man said, as he led her toward the living room. “I’m Miss Driver’s attorney. I will be overseeing any interview that is conducted.”
Lois, Michelle, and Mr. Fennerman sat down. Lois noticed that Michelle looked more tired than she had before... though there was a glint of something in her eyes that suggested she wasn’t totally beat.
“Where’s Justin?” Lois asked.
“Oh, taking a nap,” said Michelle. “Funny, despite everything, he seems to need to rest just as much as any boy his age.”
Lois smiled. “Michelle, I was hoping I could speak with you, woman-to-woman.”
“I’m afraid,” said Mr. Fennerman, “that isn’t possible.”
“It would be completely off the record,” Lois hurried on. “It’s just that, well, your client and I have something in common. She once had a relationship with Superman, and I, well... I guess it’s all a wild wish, really, but he and I have had SOMETHING of a relationship, I suppose. I just feel a connection with her, you see... and I just want to... talk!”
“Richard, why don’t you go check on Justin?” Michelle said to her attorney.
“I really don’t think that’s--”
“I’ll be fine. You can go.”
Looking perturbed, the lawyer stood up and left the room.
“He’s so great with Jussie,” Michelle remarked, as she watched him go. “And Jussie doesn’t like just anybody. I feel very lucky to have found such a good lawyer.”
Lois forced a smile.
“So you want to talk woman-to-woman,” said Michelle. “Of course, of course. I had heard rumors that you and Superman were romantically linked.”
“Listen,” said Lois. “I’m pretty good about being able to tell when someone’s lying. And I know you’re lying about your relationship with Superman.”
“I--”
“Don’t even start. Superman’s not the father of your son, and you know it. So we have a problem here. Your lies are destroying a good man’s reputation. And for what? Money? Fame? You said the other day you just wanted what’s best for your little boy. If that’s really true, then maybe you should cooperate with someone who can help you figure out WHY Justin has superpowers. If we can figure out how he got them, maybe we can make them go away.”
It took a moment for Michelle to recover from Lois’s speech, but when she did, she raised herself up haughtily and said, “Make them go away? Now, why would I want to do that? We’ve got a movie deal in the works, I’ll have you know! And a toy company wants to make a Justin action figure! He can have the life I’ve always wanted for him! Why would I want his powers to go away?”
Lois stared at Michelle, dumbfounded. This woman’s house was a wreck, her furniture nearly annihilated -- and yet she WANTED her three-year-old to be immensely strong? She WANTED a three-year-old who could fly away from her at the shopping mall? Greed was obviously clouding any good judgment she possessed.
“Miss Lane, you have a lot of nerve coming in here and saying these things to me!” Now Michelle’s voice had gotten loud. “I suggest you leave!”
Richard Fennerman stepped back into the room. “I’ll show you to the door,” he said gruffly.
Lois left without further comment. She had a lot to say to that woman, yet she knew it was bound to fall on deaf ears. Michelle Driver was clearly not in her right mind.
* * * * *
“Clark, it was absolutely maddening! She thinks it’s great, getting all these movie deals and whatnot. It’s like her mind is completely in the clouds. She didn’t deny it when I accused her of lying, though. That’s something.”
“You flat out told her you knew she was lying?!”
“Yes,” said Lois.
Wow, Clark thought. “So... then you believe Superman?”
“Clark, I have to. If I can’t believe Superman to be honest and trustworthy, then my whole world is just going to go falling to pieces. You might as well tell me the sky is orange and dogs say meow. Superman tells the truth, and that’s all there is to it. And if he says he’s not the father, then darnit, that woman’s a liar!”
Clark was dying to ask how Lois had come to this conclusion, but he held his tongue. No matter how she’d arrived, she’d arrived. He wasn’t about to say anything to change her mind. The point was she believed him, now -- and that meant the world to him.
“I just wish I could’ve talked some sense into her,” Lois continued. “She’s done a complete turnaround since we spoke to her. NOW she thinks having a superkid is wonderful! Oooh, a movie! Ahhh, an action figure! She apparently has no qualms about exploiting her son for profit!”
“Maybe...” Clark began, then stopped himself.
“Maybe what?”
“Well, maybe Superman ought to talk to her?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, if Superman goes over there, every reporter camped out on that lawn is going to do the hallelujah chorus. It’ll be like Superman’s flat-out admitting his involvement!”
“Who says he has to go over there?” Clark asked.
“You mean, they could meet somewhere? But where?”
“I have an idea,” said Clark.
* * * * *
STAR Labs had never seen anything quite like it. Mobs of people, packing the parking lot. Everyone waiting for the arrival of Superman; everyone eagerly anticipating the arrival of “The Superboy” and his mother. This was it, the big moment.
Superman had agreed to a DNA test.
Superman arrived first. Microphones were thrust into his face and he was sprayed with questions. He held up his hand. When the noise settled, he said, “I’m here today because I want the world to know the truth. For everyone’s sake. I believe in--”
“IT’S THEM!”
The crowd bubbled up again and heads turned toward an approaching white limousine. When the car stopped, the door was opened and out stepped Michelle Driver. She was dressed sharply in a black shirt, blouse, and heels. “Come on, Jussie,” Clark heard her say. A minute later, Justin emerged, wearing... a Superman suit.
The crowd loved it. Hundreds of flashes later, the three of them were being greeted inside STAR Labs by two doctors.
“Welcome,” said one of the doctors. “I’m Dr. Murtson, and this is my colleague, Dr. Riley. We’ve prepared a room where we’ll take the samples so we can begin the tests. Right this way, please.”
They were taken to a large room with no windows and a lot of equipment. There was a large metal table and several chairs.
“Before we begin,” said Superman, “I was hoping to have a word with Miss Driver.”
Michelle looked alarmed. “Well, that’s fine by me, but -- what about Justin?”
“Well,” spoke up Dr. Riley, “if he likes rats, we have a very interesting experiment going on down the hall. He’ll have to promise to be careful, but...”
“Rats!” said Justin excitedly, and he was led away to see the rodents.
“Jussie, don’t touch anything!” Michelle called after them.
“Please,” said Superman, indicating a chair.
Michelle sat and looked suspiciously at Superman.
“You’re looking good,” Michelle offered.
“Miss Driver, please...”
“Miss Driver! Why the formalities? You certainly never called me that before, silly.”
Superman took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice calm. “You told Lois Lane that you want Justin to continue having powers. That you think, somehow, it’ll make his life better. But I disagree. Please, listen.... I know what it’s like to be different from everybody else. And believe me, it’s not fun. In some ways, it’s terrifying... sometimes humiliating... I have never felt like I fit in, not really. I never know if people really like me, the REAL me, or if they’re just... impressed by what I can do. It’s not the kind of life I’d wish on anybody... ESPECIALLY not a boy who’s only three years old, who has his whole life ahead of him... a life that could be normal, if you’d let us try and figure out how he got his powers in the first place.”
Michelle was shaking. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s been so hard, I just... I don’t know what to do! Justin and I NEED the money, don’t you see? It’s hard enough being a single mom.... but having a little boy who’s nearly destroyed your house...! I’ve had to max out our credit cards just to keep a roof over our heads!”
“I want to help you,” Superman said. “But, look, I’m not rich. I don’t have bagfuls of cash sitting around. Everything ‘Superman’ earns from merchandising goes straight to charity, and... I’m sorry about your home. I want to help fix it, and I’ll do what I can. But if you truly want things to get better for Justin, then you have to let us -- me, Lois Lane, and Clark Kent, the doctors here at STAR labs, perhaps -- help you solve this mystery... and maybe give Justin a chance at a normal life.”
“But how do we do that?” asked Michelle.
“Well... for starters, do you know who Justin’s real father is?”
Michelle sighed. “His name was Steve. Steve Wickers. He was my boyfriend at the time. A real cad, though. He died in a motorcycle accident right after Justin was born.”
“You’re positive he’s the father?”
“Yes!” said Michelle, sounding offended. “Goodness sakes, I’m not THAT kind of woman!”
“Sorry. I just... well, okay. When was Justin born?”
“May 14, 1991.”
“You’re sure?”
“Well, I was there!”
“So Justin was born and... was he a normal baby?”
“Normal, how?”
“Did he ever get sick? Or hurt?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m just trying to figure out if he had superpowers from birth or not,” Superman said evenly.
Michelle looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. “No, Justin was a very normal baby. The superpowers definitely started this past summer.”
“When did--” Superman started, but was interrupted by Justin and the doctors returning.
“Mommy, they got rats and they’re so cool!”
“That’s great, Jussie!”
“Are we ready to proceed with the test?” Dr. Murtson asked, looking back and forth between Superman and Michelle.
Superman looked at Michelle, silently asking her what she wanted to do.
“Yes, let’s do it,” said Michelle. “Just to be one hundred percent sure, one way or the other.”
“Certainly,” said the doctor.
After taking hair samples from both Superman and Justin, and informing them that the results would be available in four to five months (“four to five MONTHS?!!”), the doctors showed the trio the way out.
“I’d like to keep in touch with you,” Superman said to Michelle as they walked through the lobby.
“I’d like that,” said Michelle. She fished through her purse for a slip of paper and then handed Superman her phone number. “Call me if you find out anything.”
“Hey,” said Justin, looking up at Superman. “Are you my daddy?”
* * * * *
"You’re not going to believe this," Lois declared when Clark walked by her desk the next morning.
"What now?” asked Clark.
"You’d better sit down."
Clark pulled up a chair and leaned forward attentively.
"First off, I was able to get hold of Dr. Fabian Leek's financial records -- don't ask me how," she added slyly. "Anyway, it turns out Leek was receiving his funding through none other than Lex L Investments!"
"Luthor!" Clark spat. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Yeah. So whatever Leek WAS working on, it was probably FOR Lex. And if Leek is, in fact, our cloning guy, which I might add we have no proof of, but IF..."
"Then that means Lex Luthor may have commissioned Superman’s clone in the first place," said Clark.
"Which, considering all we know about Lex NOW, I wouldn't put past him," Lois said grimly.
“You know,” said Clark. “I talked to Superman last night, and he’s kind of backing away from the Justin Driver cloning theory, now.”
“What? Why?”
“Superman said he spoke to Justin’s mom yesterday at STAR Labs for quite a bit... I don’t know, I think it just doesn’t add up. Michelle admitted to him that she knows who the real father is... er, was, and that Justin was born in 1991. That doesn’t really work with the theory that Justin was somehow... genetically manufactured... within the last year.”
“Well, she COULD be lying, still,” Lois said. “But I guess if Superman says... well anyway, there’s more. Get this. So last night my phone rings, and guess who it is?"
"Who?"
"Fine, don't bother to guess. Mrs. Cox."
"Mrs. Cox? What did SHE want?"
"She said, and I quote, 'If you're looking to find out what happened to Lex's body, try a night visit to Perpetual Pines Cemetery.'"
"Huh?"
"It seems she thinks Lex might be alive."
"WHAT!? That's impossible! That's crazy! First off, how could he be alive... and even if he was alive, what would he be doing hanging around a cemetery?"
Lois shrugged. "Beats me, but at least it's a tip. I mean, it's been months since his body was stolen, and we haven't had a single lead. So I figured we should go stake out the cemetery tonight. Hope you're not busy."
* * * * *
They arrived at Perpetual Pines at dusk and sneaked onto the grounds, positioning themselves behind two particularly large tombstones. Armed with flashlights and dressed warmly, they waited. And waited. A distant clap of thunder sounded as a chill filled the night air.
"Are you sure about this?" Clark said, looking toward the sky. "I think there's a storm coming."
"Don't be such a baby!" said Lois. "We have to at least try! Don't you want to know what happened to Lex's body?"
"Well, actually--" began Clark, but before he could say anything more, two things happened. First, Lois shushed him. Second, he heard a wail.
"This is the end! I'm done, Mama! Done with this pitiful existence!"
Another roll of thunder. Clark craned his neck to look for the source of the voice, and found it, about three hundred feet away. An older gentleman, dressed in a dull gray suit, was standing in front of a tombstone, tears streaming down his face, a revolver in his right hand.
"Clark, I think I see something!"
Clark glanced back at Lois, and saw her crawling in the opposite direction. He was torn -- should he follow Lois, or should he keep an eye on the guy with the gun? Gun, he decided. Lois would surely scream if she got into trouble.
He began to inch toward the man. He wouldn't do anything unless he was sure the man was going to pull the trigger, but he knew that could happen quickly when it did, so he had to be alert. No way was someone going to die on his watch.
"I've gone and lost all the money!" the man was crying. "All of it! And now I can't pay to keep sister in the home past the end of the month, and -- I -- oh, everything I do just goes up in smoke! I'm useless, just useless!"
"Clark!" Lois was whispering furiously.
Was she okay? Yes... she was just wondering where he'd gone, Clark decided. It was dark. He could just say he'd gotten lost. Right now there were more important things to--
The gun was inching ever closer to the man's head. Clark knew he couldn't wait any longer. With a quick spin, he became a blur of red, yellow, and blue, and sped toward the target. His hand clenched around the gun, and at that very moment, a bright flash of light enveloped both of them. He felt a strong jolt. It took him a second to realize what it was. Lightning had been drawn to the gun, or him, or -- something. And here he was, in contact with another human being. He held on tight, afraid to let go or else let the man take the brunt of the electricity.
When it was all over, they were both still standing. Superman breathed a sigh of relief. No harm done. After making sure the man was all right, he launched into a speech about life being worth living, bent the gun like a pretzel, and poured out words of encouragement. The man, who did not seem grateful in the least, gave Superman an earful. Superman calmly deflected the insults and, in the end, urged the man to seek professional help. Then he flew off.
A minute later, Clark was back in his regular clothes, crouching behind a tombstone and trying to get a location on Lois through the now-falling rain. He spotted her and began to move toward her. She had apparently given up on looking for him, or -- no, she was fixated on something. He craned his neck to see what she was looking at. There was something -- no, someone -- standing in the shadows in front of a mausoleum. He could just barely make it out. He made a move to adjust his glasses so that he might get a better view, when suddenly--
"Hey! Hold it right there! What do you think you're doing!?"
* * * * *
"Just great," Lois muttered as she maneuvered the jeep through the rainy streets. "I'm completely wet and freezing, and all I saw was a silhouette of I don't know what! You WOULD have to go and get us kicked out just as things were getting interesting."
Clark rolled his eyes. So the cemetery security guard had seen him first; it's not like it was his fault they’d gotten caught.
"We'll just have to try again another time," Lois decided. "Maybe I'll just go by myself next time! And where were you, anyway? One minute you were behind me, and the next, it was like you'd fallen down a hole."
"I, uh, thought I saw something," said Clark.
"So you went to investigate it without me? Nice, Clark. And what you saw -- was it anything?"
*Just a guy with a gun* Clark wanted to retort, but instead, he just said, "False alarm."
* * * * *
A few days later, Lois and Clark were walking to work, discussing the Driver case. They didn’t have any new leads or ideas, and things were still far from ideal. Despite Michelle’s admission to Superman at STAR Labs, she not yet retracted her statements to the press... and would she ever? As far as the world knew, Superman was the boy’s father and he’d taken a DNA test to try to deny it.
Clark couldn’t help feeling frustrated. The night before, Clark’s parents had called, and they’d talked for nearly two hours. It had felt good to receive their support, as usual, but they couldn’t fix the problem itself. Somehow he would have to find a way to clear his name and make all this go away if he ever wanted to lead a normal life -- well, as normal as it had been before Michelle Driver hit the airwaves. Which, he mused, wasn’t very normal at all, but at least it was preferable.
Lois and Clark stopped at a coffee stand across from the Daily Planet to get their morning coffee.
"One half-caf mocha," the barista said cheerfully, handing Lois her drink.
As Clark waited for his beverage, Lois continued to spout off about Michelle Driver. "The nerve of that woman! I mean, to sit there one minute and say that all she wants is the truth and blah dee blah, and to now just continue the charade? I doubt she wants the truth at all. I bet it’s all about the money for her!”
Clark did not bother to argue as he was handed his coffee and they made their way toward the crosswalk.
All of a sudden, they heard the screeching of tires and saw a vehicle barreling toward the curb where they were standing.
There was no time to change into Superman. Clark shoved Lois out of the path of the car. Her coffee went flying and she tumbled toward the pavement. He was about to use his superbreath to brake the car, when there was a flash of turquoise and orange in front of him and something -- somebody -- was stopping the car with its bare hands.
Somebody... else.
He watched, stone-still, as this... this PERSON... brushed off his hands, then bent over to help Lois up off the ground.
"--What happened?"
"--Who is HE?"
"--Another superperson!?"
"--They're taking over!"
A crowd had gathered at the street corner where the once-out-of-control-car was now still. People were buzzing with excitement and confusion. The driver was apologizing profusely from the front seat. But none of these things mattered to Clark. All he could see at that moment was his partner... who had just narrowly escaped major injury... being carried by... well, somebody who wasn't him.
The newcomer was dressed in an orange hooded sweatshirt and blue sweatpants. A cloth mask covered the top half of his face.
"Well, you're just about the prettiest thing I've saved so far!" the masked man told Lois, as he set her on her feet. "But the day is young, and my experience is somewhat limited."
Clark gasped. That voice! It was the man from the cemetery! The man who'd... holy cow... now HE had SUPERPOWERS?
“What’s your name, missy?”
“Lois Lane... D-Daily Planet,” she managed. “And who are YOU?”
"That's for me to know and you to find out, little lady," said the man, and with a sly grin, he took off for the sky.
Clark had to fight to find his voice. "Lois, are you okay?!"
"Huh? Oh, Clark. Yeah, I am... thanks to... whoever that was! I can't believe it -- another person with superpowers! What do you think this means?!"
Clark just shook his head.
* * * * *
