Mother's Day: 4/?
by Nan Smith

Previously:

**********

The red car moved slowly down Hyperion Avenue until it was a good two blocks from the Kent townhouse, and then Pilson made an abrupt right turn onto Tulip. Floating above him just within the lowest layer of the cloud level, Clark followed his progress with nothing to betray to anyone who might be following the false coach that anyone had any interest in him at all.

The car pulled sharply to the side of the road, and Clark watched as the coach extracted a cellular phone and hit the speed dial.

The phone had rung only twice when someone answered.

"Hello?" a cultured female voice said.

"This is Bob," Pilson said. "A couple of Henderson's guards just chased me away from the house."

"Did they suspect you?" the voice asked sharply.

"I don't think so. Henderson's running for his boss's seat. I think they were just being careful."

"Very well. Your report?"

"Nothing," Pilson said, a faint note of disgust in his voice. "I got an earful of some sickening soap opera, and my ears are still ringing from the radio. The kids were doing homework, and Henderson and his wife showed up for dinner. Probably to try to get the Daily Planet on his side for his campaign."

"You're sure they didn't suspect you?" the woman's voice said again. "You spoke to the boy during class today, did you not?"

"Yeah. He didn't act like he was suspicious. He's a kid, for Pete's sake. Eleven years old. He isn't likely to pick up on anything." The man's voice became faintly envious. "Hell of a pitcher, though. Said his grandfather taught him."

"Never mind his sports acumen," the voice said coldly, "and must I remind you to keep a guard on your language?"

"Sorry," the man muttered.

"You will continue your observation tomorrow in class. My contact indicated that he believes the boy to be one of our targets. If we can't verify it one way or the other, we'll have to take further steps to be sure."

"I understand," Pilson said. "What do you want me to do about listening in? Shall I go back after Henderson leaves?"

"No, the car has been noticed. You must do nothing to raise their suspicions. You'll be given instructions, tomorrow." The phone went dead.

And now, Part 4:

Clark waited, watching. It seemed unlikely that he was going to find out much more tonight, but he might as well see where the man went.

Pilson seemed to be shuffling papers for a moment, then he dialed another number into his cellular phone. Clark waited, listening.

"This is Gemini," he said quietly. "The surveillance of the Kent home turned up nothing, so far."

"Acknowledged," a male voice said. "And the other party?"

"She believes the oldest child to be Kryptonian," Pilson said.

"Any indication that the suspicion may be correct?"

Clark frowned. Tonight was definitely a night for deja vu. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but the distortion of the phone was just enough to prevent him from making a positive identification. Still ...

"No, sir," Pilson said. "The information doesn't support the theory. The child was apparently the illegitimate son of a Kent cousin, since deceased. The date of his birth makes it unlikely that he could be one of the Kryptonian offspring; it's several months too soon -- if there really are any, that is. That Cash guy is a nutcase if I ever met one. As for the clone theory, apparently, the Kents adopted the child before the raid on the island."

"There was the Luthor clone's claim that the child is the missing Superman clone," the voice said.

"According to the STAR Labs DNA analysis, the boy is human," Pilson said. "My contact gave me a copy of the report."

"Who signed the report?" the voice asked.

"Bernard Klein," Pilson said. "He's a bit of an absent-minded professor, but the man's credentials are impeccable. Apparently, according to my sources, the Kents had the analysis done to prove to all concerned that the child was normal. Apparently, with the attempts on Mrs. Kent and the child, they were worried that there would be some doubt. I'll fax you the report from the hotel."

"Very good," the voice said.

"Any further orders?"

"Continue in your position. It's vital that we locate the target."

"Yes sir." A pause. "I don't understand why everybody in that house hasn't gone deaf. The noise level in there is incredible."

"You're certain they don't know they were being observed?"

"I'm certain, sir."

"Hmm. Well, they do have four children. That would make anybody's house noisy."

"Apparently they also have two friends who spend the afternoon there while their mothers work, so I get the point." A pause. "The videogame sounded interesting, though."

"Forget the videogame, Maxwell. Concentrate on your job."

"Naturally, sir. But I'd like to try that game on my spare time."

Clark clenched his jaw. Whatever was going on here, it was obvious that Pilson was playing a double role and the talk of the 'target' was disturbing. He heard the man sign off and watched as the red car pulled away from the curb.

The red sports car wended its way across the city to the Apollo Hotel, and Clark watched as Pilson parked his car in the hotel lot and made his way to the entrance.

After a moment, he took out his cellular phone and hit the speed dial for his home. The phone rang twice before someone picked it up.

"Hello?" his mother's voice said.

"Hi, Mom," he said. "I'm going to be a while. Make my excuses for me, will you?"

"Don't worry," his mother's voice said. "I'll take care of it. Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure what it is."

"Well, all right -- but be careful."

"I will," he said.

**********

When CJ and the other children filed into the kitchen to collect their dinner, his grandmother had their plates lined up on the kitchen table. "I called your mother, Wyatt," she said. "Clark got called away, so he won't be able to drive you home until later. Your mom said it was all right if you ate dinner here. Clark will drive you home later, or if he's delayed, I'll do it."

Wyatt's face lit up in a wide smile. "Okay," he said. "Mom was gonna have meatloaf anyway."

"Well, we're having hamburgers and French fries tonight," Martha said. "I hope that's okay."

Wyatt nodded vigorously, reaching for the ketchup bottle. The children applied their condiments of choice and headed back for the playroom with their plates and tall glasses of milk.

CJ settled on one of the chairs at the kid-sized table in the playroom, and Wyatt, Linda and Marta took the others. Jimmy and Jonny resumed their places in front of the television. Jonny took a huge bite of his hamburger, licked ketchup off his fingers and reached for the game controller again.

"Hey," CJ said. "Remember what Dad said. Make sure your hands are clean. He isn't going to replace the controller again if you ruin it."

Jonny paused, reached for one of the paper towels that had accompanied them back upstairs, and wiped his hands off. The game resumed.

CJ glanced through the wall at the street in front of their townhouse, but the red car had not returned. He picked up his hamburger and took a bite. He hadn't felt very hungry while Coach Pilson had been spying on them, but now his appetite had made a miraculous recovery.

He glanced at his little brothers, completely immersed in their game, and leaned forward so that Wyatt, as well as the others, could hear him. "We need to practice this stuff," he said. "We know what's gonna happen to us the older we get, and since Wyatt's in on it, it might be a real good thing if he could hear us too -- and us him."

"Yeah," Wyatt said, "but how are we gonna do it without the little kids hearing us? They heard us before."

"Maybe we were just too close," CJ said. "Let's finish eating, and then we could go down to the basement. Grandma won't mind, if we tell her what's going on."

"I guess your grandma knows about the telepathy stuff, huh?" Linda said. "I wasn't sure."

"Well, yeah -- sure. She and Grandpa Kent *raised* Dad, you know. They found his ship when he first came to Earth."

"Wow," Wyatt said in a low voice. "I'd sure like to see it someday."

"Dad got it back from Intergang when Mom and him busted it up," CJ said. "Grandpa Kent has it hidden. Maybe we can ask Dad about it, sometime. Anyhow, what do you think?"

"About practicing? Yeah, we probably should," Linda said. "It would sure be great if we could do it if one of us gets in trouble some time. Coach Pilson was spying on us for some reason. Somebody might be looking for us, still. Bureau 39 or somebody."

"Yeah," Marta said. "If they come after us again, I'm gonna be sure we can yell for help without them knowing."

"Well, I called Dad by accident this afternoon," CJ said. "Maybe we can find other kids like us that way, too. Dad knows about four others, so far. There's four in Smallville, and one here in Metropolis."

"Maybe that's all there are," Wyatt said.

"Let's hope so," Linda said. "You never know when you're going to get somebody like Biff. Wouldn't it be awful if *he* had super powers?"

"Well, he doesn't," Wyatt said, practically. "CJ beat him at arm-wrestling. Boy, was he mad!"

"Yeah, I heard about that after I came to the school," Linda said. "It served him right." She looked admiringly at CJ in the way that made his stomach feel funny. He grinned, a little embarrassed. He knew he wasn't supposed to like girls, but that was before he'd met Linda. Some of his friends kidded him about it a little, but he thought they were sort of jealous. Linda was pretty, and she was a heck of a good shortstop. She'd told CJ that she was trying hard not to use any of her super strength or speed when she played, because Superman had warned her about it, and told her that it was good practice to learn how to control her powers.

"Biff's a jerk," Linda added. "Yesterday he knocked my books out of my hands in the hall."

CJ sat up, bristling at once. Linda shook her head. "It was okay," she said. "Red -- you know, that sixth grade guy that you sometimes help with his homework -- picked 'em up and told Biff to leave me alone or else."

CJ made a mental note to thank Red the next time he saw him. He'd been surprised to realize that Biff was scared of Red, even though he made nasty remarks about how his former friend was getting to be a brain now that he was passing his classes. In spite of it, Biff never made the mistake of getting in Red's face anymore -- ever since he'd turned up with a black eye one morning and a flimsy story about having tripped on the way to school. Since CJ had seen the two of them facing off before school, he'd had a pretty good idea where Biff's facial decoration had come from, but he hadn't said anything.

"Red's okay," Wyatt said casually. "He's got a lot smarter than he used to be. Look, why don't I try thinking at the rest of you? The kids aren't gonna pick up on that if you can hardly hear me."

"I can hear you okay," Marta objected. "I don't know why CJ and Linda can't."

CJ had his own ideas about that, but if Marta could tell when Wyatt was thinking at her -- and he and Linda could tell when he was thinking at them, even if they couldn't tell what he was saying -- maybe Wyatt could get better at it if they practiced.

"Okay," he said. "Think at me."

The two boys stared into each other's eyes, and again CJ felt the faint tickle at the back of his mind that he thought was Wyatt trying to communicate with him. All at once, his friend reached out a hand and grasped his arm.

'... hear me ...' Wyatt's voice said faintly in his mind.

CJ jumped so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

"I heard that!" he stuttered.

"Really?" Linda leaned forward. "Touch me and see if I can hear you, Wyatt!"

Wyatt's eyes had widened, and a smile of triumph lit his face. "Okay." He reached out to touch Linda, and CJ again felt the tickle in his mind, but this time it was almost audible. '... hear what I'm saying? ...' The words were a faint whisper in his brain.

Linda nodded vigorously. "This is *so* cool!"

CJ stuffed the last of his hamburger into his mouth, glancing at his younger brothers. "Let's go down to the basement," he said. "We have to test this out!"

**********

Lois glanced briefly sideways at the whoosh that told her that her husband had landed in the back yard. An instant later, the front door opened and Clark stepped in. William Henderson glanced briefly at him. "Did you get your story?"

"More or less," Clark said. "Sorry I had to leave like that."

"Oh, that's all right," Sue Henderson said. "I guess it must be par for the course for a reporter. Sort of like being married to a cop." She smiled at her husband. "Have I mentioned that I'm awfully glad that you retired from the Force, Bill? You may have odd hours as a politician, but at least it isn't likely that people will be shooting at you."

"Not as much, anyway," Henderson said "Did you happen to see my bodyguards out there anywhere, Clark?"

"They're sitting in their car, eating sandwiches," Clark said. "I suspect they're not too anxious to come in here again with all the racket that was going on the last time. I hope you had a good dinner."

"Excellent, as usual," Henderson said. "I see where you got your cooking talent. Martha's a terrific cook."

Martha Kent smiled. "Thank you."

"Any problems here after I left?" Clark asked.

"No. I took the bug off your phone," Bill said. "I'll pass it to some friends of mine, the first chance I get. I also checked your other extensions, but they were clean."

"Thanks," Clark said. "I talked to Superman before I came back. He followed Pilson and eavesdropped on a couple of cell phone conversations he had. Gave me a fax address, too. Maybe we can get Jim Olsen to trace it for us."

Henderson nodded. "I wish we'd had Olsen working for the Department," he said. "Best computer whiz kid I ever met."

Lois looked around at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and saw that CJ, Marta, Linda and Wyatt were descending so quickly that Wyatt almost missed a step. "Do you kids need something?"

"Um -- not exactly," CJ said. "We're going down into the basement for a little bit. We need to find something."

Clark turned to look at them as well and then raised an eyebrow at Lois. "All right. Just don't stay there too long. This is a school night. I have to drive Wyatt home in a little while."

"Sure," CJ said. He led the way through the kitchen door, and it swung shut behind the four older children.

"Wonder what they're up to," Lois remarked.

Clark shrugged. "They're good kids," he said. "I'm not worried."

"Clark," Sue Henderson said, "do you think that Valerie could be in any danger?"

Clark shook his head. "From what Superman overheard, whoever these people are, they aren't even sure the Kryptonian hybrids aren't a figment of Cash's imagination. Just be sure she doesn't do anything out of the ordinary and I think she's probably safe. She'd better keep an eye out for anyone paying any unusual attention to her, though -- just to be sure."

"And if they are?"

"She needs to be sure no one manages to get her alone," Clark said. "Tell her --" He hesitated. "Tell her to go to CJ for help if she thinks she's in danger at school. He can call Superman for help. I'll warn him -- if that's all right with you."

Henderson's eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded. "I guess we're all going to have to stick together, this time."

"Yeah." Clark nodded. "Let's not panic about this, though. We don't know what's behind it."

"If it's any kind of danger for our daughter," Sue said quietly, "I don't want to take any chances!"

"I don't blame you," Lois said. "We'll let you know what we find out as soon as we find out, ourselves, Sue. That's a promise."

**********
tbc


Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.