Table of Contents
From Part 1:“Wait a minute...
injected her?”
None of this made sense. Why would someone inject Lois with anything? If someone wanted to harm her, why not just kill her? Unless... unless they wanted her to suffer before she died. Clark swallowed as dozens of possibilities swam in his brain. AIDS. Anthrax. Cancerous blood-cells. Smallpox. Any number of incurable, debilitating, painful viruses. Any number of illness which could kill her.
“Yes. Apparently the man told her that she was going to die. I’ve asked for a number of tests to be conducted on samples of Ms Lane’s blood, but without having any idea of what was in the hypodermic we haven’t a clue what we’re looking at. All we have to go on is what Ms Lane told us her attacker said. The timing’s highly unlikely to be that accurate if it’s true, but according to Ms Lane he told her that she has twenty-four hours to live.”
**********
Now read on...After all the bustle around her, the questions and the endless probing and examination, it was a relief to be left alone for a few minutes. Blessed solitude.
Cursed solitude.
Now that she was alone, it was all sinking in. She was going to die.
In fact, she was probably already dying. The doctors had confirmed that there seemed to be something affecting her reactions. Something they couldn’t yet identify. Something eating away at her. Killing her.
She’d thought it was all a bad dream. When she’d come to, she’d been shocked to find herself in the emergency room, surrounded by machines and people in uniform. Even then, she’d told herself that the intruder, the injection, the cartoon-villainish laugh and the dire threat had all been a nightmare. Not real. Not actually happening to her.
Then the doctor had asked her what she remembered. And the looks on the faces of the staff around her bed had revealed the truth even before anyone had said it. The work they’d done while she’d been unconscious had pointed to the presence of something faint, as yet unidentifiable, something which shouldn’t be there - and they’d found an injection site. It was inflamed and sore now, painful physical proof, if she needed it, that it was all real.
Yet it still felt like a dream, including the fact that she’d called Clark. She must have phoned him; a nurse had told her that the ambulance had been called by a Mr Kent, who was also waiting outside for her. Clark had travelled to the hospital with her in the ambulance; had been visibly distressed by what had happened to her, a paramedic had told the nurse.
Clark. Lois choked back a sob. At least she wasn’t alone here. Someone was nearby; someone who cared about her. Someone who’d be upset if she died - at least, she thought so. Or would Clark, like everyone else, just get on with his life as if she’d never existed?
Don’t wallow!She didn’t want to die! Even though she’d been in more risky situations than she could remember, had so many close shaves that the Planet’s insurance company had revised its premium for her life-insurance at least four times in the past year, dying wasn’t in her plans for quite some time yet. She had so much to live for - so much she wanted to achieve in her life. And she was only 27! That was far too young to die. There were many more headlines to get, more Kerths to win, a Pulitzer to win. And... and twenty-four hours was far too little time to come to terms with dying.
A tear splashed onto the hospital gown she was wearing. Angry, fighting against bitterness, Lois snatched a Kleenex from a nearby box and scrubbed her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. She wouldn’t give her unknown assailant the satisfaction. And anyway, she was unlikely to be left alone for much longer, and she didn’t want anyone to see Lois Lane in tears.
No. She had to get past this pointless wallowing and focus on what needed to be done. She didn’t want to die; ergo, she had to find a way to live.
Clark would help her. It was fortunate that he was here - that way they could get started immediately. They had lots of resources at their disposal, didn’t they? All the records of the Planet, plus she had contacts in the police department. And powerful friends. Even Superman would help. Of course he would. Wouldn’t he?
They’d beat this. There was no way that she was giving up yet. She wasn’t going to concede defeat until the very last second of the twenty-four hours had ticked away.
A clock on the wall told her that it was after 6am. Three precious hours of this last day of her life had already gone. Wasted, frittered away; first, while she was unconscious and then later while doctors and the police delayed endlessly over questions and tests.
She needed Clark. He should be here any minute. She’d asked the doctor to tell him what was going on. The thought of telling him herself was just too horrible... She couldn’t face it.
He’d be shocked. He’d be upset for her, and angry, and probably distressed - that was Clark all over. He cared about people, and he thought of her as a friend. As she thought of him, too.
She’d been unfair to him, wondering if he’d forget her and get on with his life. Clark
did care about her. The way he behaved with her on a daily basis showed her that. Protective. Even affectionate, when she let him. He’d saved her life a couple of times, too, and each time he’d seemed upset by what had almost happened. This was going to affect him deeply. Which was why she couldn’t tell him herself. She had to remain composed and rational about this whole situation. If she allowed herself to get emotional, then she might as well resign herself to dying here and now.
No emotions. No wallowing in the horror of it all - not with anyone. She had to treat this as just another investigation.
**********
“She’s
what?”
No. He wasn’t hearing this. It wasn’t happening. This was just a nightmare. Any moment now he’d wake up and he’d laugh at himself for being so scared. Lois wasn’t dying.
“Mr Kent, I’m sorry to have to give you this bad news. If what her attacker claims is true, Ms Lane could be dying. As I said, she has been injected with some sort of poison or compound which we can already see is having a destructive effect - ”
“But poisons have antidotes!” Clark thrust out his hand in protest, pain as agonising as if it were physical stabbing through his gut. “You must be able to do something!”
What was the guy talking about? Why weren’t they working on a cure? What use was centuries of medical science if someone could break into Lois’s apartment and give her a poison which took as long as
24 hours to act, and these doctors didn’t have a clue what to do about it?
He wanted to see Lois. Needed to be with her. He had to see her, to reassure himself that she was still alive, at least for now. He had to talk to her, to see if they could find some way through this scene from a horror movie. They were a team. They always got through the bad stuff together. He’d find out as much as he could here, and then demand to see her.
“To find an antidote, we would need to know exactly what she was injected with. We don’t know yet what the agent is, whether it’s chemical or biological or a combination of several different things. And without that information it may not be possible to find an antidote. If an antidote actually exists.”
Not possible? It
had to be possible! Clark ran his hands through already-rumpled hair, his brain working furiously. There had to be a cure. There had to be a way of finding the composition of the poison.
“You said it’s already having an effect on her.” He heard the ragged, choked sound of his own voice and took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together.
“Yes. We’ve been running tests every fifteen minutes or so - vision, hearing, the operation of other motor functions. Sensation. Reaction to stimulation. Already, we’re noticing a very faint change.”
“Change?” Clark jumped on the statement. “What sort of change?”
“Nothing that would be noticeable if we hadn’t been running repeated tests. A little slowness in response. Ms Lane blinks, as if she has to focus her vision. The neural activity may be experiencing a slight impediment - ”
“But what does that
mean? What’s happening to her?”
“Whatever this agent is, it seems to be affecting her central nervous system. Do you know what the nervous system does, Mr Kent?”
He should. Normally, he would. Today, everything seemed to be filtering through some sort of fuzzy cloud. Nothing was clear. He couldn’t remember...
“Uh... vaguely...”
“It controls virtually everything the body does. Sight. Hearing. Balance. Speech. Respiration. The ability to feel things. Other motor functions - use of the limbs, for example. Brain functions. Memory, the processing of information.”
Clark swallowed. “So if this is affecting her nervous system...”
“She could progressively lose the use of these functions. She could become blind, for example. Or paralysed. Or - ”
Respiration. The word the doctor had used jumped out at him. “She could stop breathing?”
“Yes, potentially, depending on what was used. And, if we assume that this person knows what he’s doing, that may well be what we’re looking at.”
Damn!His fists clenched at his sides. “You have to figure out what this stuff is!”
“Believe me, we’re trying. I’ve already ordered a battery of tests and the lab should be working on them as we speak. The problem is, Mr Kent, as I already explained, that without knowing what general class of agent this is we’re working in the dark.”
Incompetents. They were incompetents. They hadn’t a clue what they were doing. And Lois’s life was in the hands of these people?
God.
Pull yourself together...He straightened, fixing Dr Sutton with a hard stare. “Who’s the best poisons person in the world?”
Sutton hesitated. “I’m not sure...”
“But you could find out.”
“Even if I did, it wouldn’t make any difference. He’d need hours to work on this! Unless he was within a couple of hundred miles from here, there wouldn’t be enough time, even assuming he’d be able to find a solution anyway.”
“Distance isn’t a problem.” Clark spoke abruptly. “I - Lois and I know Superman. He could have the poisons expert here in minutes.”
The doctor looked taken aback. “Well, I suppose we could... But the problem is, Mr Kent, that there just isn’t enough to go on at the moment. We’ve taken blood samples, of course, but we have to try to isolate the compound and figure out what it is. That takes time. And then we have to run tests to see whether our guess is correct. And the labs are busy as it is... If we could have got a sample from the injection site within the first minute or two after she’d been given the shot, we might have had a better chance because we could have analysed the substance, but as it is...” He shrugged, a fatalistic expression on his face. “It’s going to take a lot longer to get a fix on what it is. There’s no guarantee we can do it in time, assuming whatever she’s been given is indeed fatal. Her best chance is if the police can find whoever did it and get him to tell us what he used.”
Clark felt as if he’d been turned to stone. It was his fault. Lois was going to die, and he could have saved her. He could have got her to the ER within seconds of finding her. But he’d waited for the ambulance. He’d as good as killed her.
Oh god...“Anyway, Ms Lane wants to see you now.”
“Huh?” Clark stared at the doctor.
“Ms Lane asked to see you. She asked me to tell you what’s going on, and then she wanted me to send you in.” Sutton sounded as if he were struggling to be patient.
He couldn’t do it. How could he possibly face Lois knowing that his action - his
inaction - was responsible for killing her?
But how could he not? She was dying. She’d asked to see him. She wanted him. Of course he had to go to her, even if the guilt was already eating him up inside, screaming at him, telling him that he didn’t deserve to have a friend like Lois. He didn’t deserve to get to spend one more minute with her.
He pulled himself up short. Guilt wasn’t an emotion he could afford to indulge in. Not now. Not when Lois needed him - and not when they had such a limited time to save her life. Because he was
not going to let her die. Not if it was the last thing he did...
Woodenly, like an automaton, he turned towards the door. His feet moved forward, but it seemed as if it were someone else, not him, who was walking into the ER. Someone else was searching the busy room anxiously, looking for Lois. Someone else was being steered towards a cubicle over to the side, pushing back a curtain...
And there she was, sitting on a gurney, dressed only in a hospital gown. Her hair was still rumpled and her face was pale, but she was as beautiful as ever. And a lump in Clark’s throat almost prevented him from speaking.
“Hi, Clark.” Her tone was amazingly matter-of-fact for a woman who’d just been given a death sentence.
“Lois...” That was someone else’s voice, surely? He never sounded that hoarse, as if he were crying...
“Clark, for god’s sake, pull yourself together!” she snapped. “Don’t you know that’s the last thing I need right now?”
“Sorry.” He should have known, of course. The last thing Lois ever wanted was sympathy - there was no reason to expect that, even facing a death sentence, she’d change in any way. “How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?”
“You’re doing it again!” She gave him an impatient glare. “Fussing. Treating me like an invalid! Look,” she added, her tone less irritated, “I’m not dead yet. And I don’t intend to be. So the question is: are you going to help me or not?”
“Do you have to ask?” He stared at her in disbelief. “Lois, you know I’d do anything to help you. What do you need?”
“We treat this like any other story.” She slid down from the examination table and stood facing him. “Get the facts, investigate, get the evidence, deduce, find the solution.”
And write the story, Clark finished automatically, silently; only this time the story was far from being important. Lois was treating her own soon-to-be murder as just another case. The thought made him recoil; and yet, knowing his partner, it made sense. She was trying to detach herself, to remain dispassionate. And she was right: it was the only way to think clearly.
Though thinking clearly had never seemed less possible. After all, if they didn’t find the antidote he’d be writing the story alone. Without his partner. Without Lois.
But that was precisely the sort of thinking that would stop them doing what needed to be done. Lois was right. He needed to stay calm. Stop thinking about the consequences if they didn’t find the antidote. Focus on solving the crime and putting things right. That, after all, was what Lois was doing.
Yet surely this one time she could leave the detachment and the investigation to others? The police, the doctors,
him - and Superman?
“Lois, I’ll do all of that - as much as I can. You know that. But you... you have to stay here, surely?”
“Not a chance.” She spoke flatly. “I’ve already spoken to Dr Sutton. Looks to me like there’s absolutely nothing they have to do that they need me here for. They’ve taken all the samples we need. I don’t have to be here.”
“But... the poison, the - whatever it is - it’s attacking your central nervous system. It’s making you sick and you won’t be able to function.” Useless to protest, and yet he had to.
“Right now I feel fine. And as long as I stay that way
no-one’s going to stop me from doing anything I want to do.” She glared at him, but then her expression changed and Clark almost thought he saw a tear forming. She blinked and it was gone.
“Clark, this could be the last day of my life! You think I’m not going to go down fighting? Oh, sure, the doctors say they’ll
try to come up with something. But I didn’t see an awful lot of assurance on anyone’s face. They think I’m a goner. And I don’t see anyone else rushing in with a miracle cure. The only person who’s going to get me out of this alive is
me. So, are you going to help me or not?”
“Lois, you know you don’t have to ask. I’m all yours. Just tell me where you want to start.”
“Get me out of here. Take me home. Where are my clothes?”
“Uh...”
As he hesitated, she stared at him. “My clothes, Clark! It’s not that hard a question, surely?”
“Ah. Well... I don’t think you have any here. Other than what you were wearing.”
“You mean you didn’t -? Clark! What am I supposed to wear out of this place?”
“Sorry.” He hadn’t thought about that - hadn’t thought of anything except getting Lois into the hands of doctors as soon as he could. Well, not as soon as he could. As soon as an ambulance had arrived. God, why hadn’t he just flown her here?
“Look, I’ll call a cab,” he offered. “And -” He stripped off the sweater he’d pulled on so hurriedly earlier. “Put this on.” At least it would cover the open-backed hospital gown.
“I guess it’s better than the alternative,” Lois muttered, taking it from him.
The curtain was pushed aside suddenly. “Ms Lane! What are you doing?”
“Leaving,” she announced bluntly.
“But we haven’t finished... there are tests...”
Lois slid to her feet, the belligerent expression on her face one Clark was familiar with. “Is there or is there not anything you can do for me right now that’ll save my life?”
“Well... no.”
“And do you have all the blood samples you need?”
“For now, yes.” The doctor looked distinctly uncomfortable, shuffling his feet and adjusting his black-framed spectacles.
“Then you don’t need me. For now.” Lois looked at her watch. “I have about 21 hours, right? Then I’ll come back here in 20 hours’ time, unless I’ve found the antidote sooner.”
“Found the antidote -? What are you talking about? You’re not medically qualified!”
“No, but my partner and I are investigative reporters,” Lois said, clearly losing her patience. “You do your stuff with the samples. We’ll do our job by trying to find out who did this to me and getting them to give us the antidote. And one way or another I’ll be back. But the last thing I’m doing is spending what could be the last day of my life twiddling my thumbs in a hospital bed!”
The doctor looked even more discomfited than he’d been when he’d been talking to Clark. “I can understand that, Ms Lane. But you should know that you don’t necessarily have 21 hours.”
“I don’t?” Lois stared at him. “But you said you thought the bastard who attacked me was right?”
“Yes, that whatever he injected you with seems to have a progressive rather than an immediate effect. But, as we explained, this compound - whatever it is - seems to be attacking the central nervous system. You’re going to start noticing some more severe symptoms within a few hours - sweatiness, dizzy spells, some loss of motor function...”
At Lois’s puzzled look, he explained. “If my guess is right, you’ll find that your limbs don’t do what you ask them to do. You’ll try to pick something up and you’ll drop it. Your legs might suddenly be unsteady. Your vision will blur. Your memory might start to be erratic. Brain functioning won’t be as rapid or accurate as it should be. You could have any combination of these symptoms, depending on what you’ve been injected with. And they’ll get worse over time - as will the pain. And there’ll come a point where the damage to your central nervous system will be irreversible, even if we do identify the poison and give you the appropriate antidote. Because all that will do is prevent the damage getting even worse.”
By the time Sutton had finished his explanation, Lois was pale, shaking. Clark moved to her side, supporting her with an arm around her waist. She leaned into him, clearly needing his presence.
He asked the question he suspected that she wanted to. “What sort of irreversible damage?”
The doctor shrugged. “Permanent loss of limb function, possibly paralysis, loss of one or more senses, serious brain damage. The later the antidote is administered, the worse the prognosis.”
“I could end up a vegetable, you mean.” Lois’s tone was bitter, and Clark couldn’t blame her.
“I wouldn’t use that term...” The doctor was clearly hedging.
“But that’s what it amounts to.” Lois pulled away from Clark, her face still ghostly pale. “Get that taxi. Standing around here isn’t going to help.”
“Wait.” The doctor held up his hand. “There are a few more things you need to understand, if you’re insisting on leaving here. I will reiterate that the 24-hour timetable is, at best, a guess - the person who put this together couldn’t possibly know how it would react with your metabolism, blood flow and so on. Even if he adjusted for your height and weight, these are only two variables among many.”
“So what are you saying?” Clark asked as renewed panic started to hit him. “That it could be more than 24 hours? Or less? How much less?”
“We just don’t know. And this is why we would have preferred to have Ms Lane stay with us. That way we could monitor her progress. That could give us further clues as to exactly what this agent is, and therefore what we need to test for. We will also need to take further blood samples for testing, especially if the initial run of tests fail to identify the substance used. And additionally, it’s possible that activity on her part could accelerate the rate of absorption and thereby damage.”
God, could this get any worse? The more the doctor opened his mouth, the more appalling the prognosis got.
Lois was
dying.
Dying. And this time there was nothing -
nothing - he could do about it. Oh, there’d been close shaves by the dozen in the months he’d known her. In all of those cases he’d had seconds to react, but he’d got there in time. Seconds to be aware that her life was in danger - but then he’d rescued her and all had been well. This was different. She was facing a threat completely unlike any he’d dispatched for her, and he had no idea whether, this time, he could snatch her from the jaws of death.
For all of his powers, all of the abilities he’d been gifted with, he was helpless in the face of this threat. And it was obvious just by looking at her that he was helpless to prevent her ignoring the doctor’s advice.
“That’s a chance I’ll just have to take. If I stay, then I might as well just give up now,” Lois spat bitterly. “I’m leaving here so I can save my own life!”
“But these symptoms I’ve mentioned are important,” Dr Sutton said, emphasising his words. “They’re a sign that the drug is doing what it was designed to do. And some of them are more dangerous - for example, you could stop breathing. If that happens, then it won’t be a question of waiting for the time to be up.”
*********
...tbc
