TOC It was late by the time Lois managed to get to her own apartment. She had found Clark’s first aid kit and bandaged his hand after trying to talk him into going to the emergency room. He had adamantly refused but hadn’t been able to tell her why he felt so strongly about it.
Another mystery in the shape of Clark Kent. It was getting to be a long list.
She had felt guilty about leaving him alone, so she had chosen a movie from his small collection of video tapes – ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’. She remembered him once saying it was one of his favorite films. Maybe something about it would jog his memory.
They watched the movie in companionable silence, sharing the bowl of popcorn with easy familiarity. Near the end of the film, she looked over to see Clark staring at her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she wondered aloud.
“I was just wondering how we met.”
“You were in Perry’s office trying to peddle some article from the Borneo Gazette to get him to hire you.”
She watched as he mulled her statement over in his mind.
“Did we like each other right away? You and me, I mean,” he asked.
She shrugged. “We didn't not like each other.”
She was too embarrassed to tell him her real reaction at finding out that Perry had not only hired the hard-body hack from Nowheresville, but the editor had insisted they work together.
It was the day the Messenger transport shuttle had blown up. Lois had gotten a tip that the space program was in danger, but like everyone else, she had disregarded it until it was too late. She had marched into Perry’s office, determined to make up for lost time.
“I'll need a task force. I can't cover this story alone,” she announced after telling him of Doctor Platt’s warning.
“You can have Jimmy,” Perry told her.
“Chief, we're talking about the space program...” she protested. Jimmy was little more than a gofer.
“All right. Take Kent,” Perry offered.
She was appalled. “Kent?”
“Kent.”
“What about Myerson?”
“Busy.”
“Burns?”
“Budapest.” It was obvious that Perry was enjoying this.
“Forget Kent,” she stated, glowering at her editor.
“He's a good man.”
“He's a hick. From ‘Smallville.’ I couldn't make that name up,” she protested.
“Kent or nobody,” Perry told her.
“Nobody,” she told him. He just looked at her and she knew he wasn’t going to back down. She could have the new guy or nobody at all. “Why don't you just hang an albatross around my neck?” she groused. Perry just raised his eyebrows at her and she knew he knew he’d won. “Okay. But don't ever tell me I'm not a team player.”
She strode over to Clark’s desk, not bothering to hide the fact that she was less than pleased with Perry’s orders.
“Let's hit it,” she ordered the new guy. Then she walked away, not bothering to make sure he was following as she headed for the elevators.
“Mind if I ask where're we going?” Clark asked.
“To interview Samuel Platt. I'll brief you on the way,” she told him, then stopped to face him. She needed to set the ground rules. “And let's get something straight. I didn't work my buns off to become an investigative reporter for the Daily Planet just to baby-sit some hack from Nowheresville.”
He didn’t seem overly surprised by her tirade. He simply studied her, eyes bright and curious behind his glasses, a smile quirking in the corners of his mouth. If it hadn’t been that she knew she needed an extra pair of eyes, ears, and hands in the investigation she would have left him in the bullpen.
“And another thing. You're not working with me, you're working for me. I call the shots. I ask the questions. You're low man. I'm top banana. That's the way I like it. Comprende?”
“You like to be on top. Got it,” he told her with a bemused smile.
“Don't push me, Kent,” she warned. “You are way out of your league.”
He just gave her another of his infuriatingly amused smiles that told her that he thought her bark was worse than her bite and that made her even angrier. He’d had her pegged from day one.
“I remember you telling me you lived by three rules,” Clark said softly.
“Never get involved in your stories, never let anyone else get there first, and never sleep with anyone you work with,” Lois quoted. “Do you also remember that I told you I’ve broken every one of those rules?”
His expression turned thoughtful and she could tell he was trying to put things together. “You told me we hadn’t let things get serious,” he said. “But I have kissed you, right?”
“It was in the line of duty,” she assured him, wondering which one of them she was trying to convince. The movie was over and it was late.
“I’d better get home,” she told him. “I’ll pick you up in the morning for work.”
He nodded and walked her to the door. “Good night Lois, and thank you.”
“For what?”
“For whatever it is you've done for me that makes me feel as good about you as I do.”
“Clark, whether or not your memory comes back, I just want you to know, I think you're terrific, too.”
“You do?”
She smiled at him. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she promised, making her escape before things went too far. Spending the evening with him had almost made her forget that Superman was missing and probably dead.
-o-o-o-
There was a message on her answering machine when she walked in the door. She dropped her purse and briefcase on the sofa and played the message.
‘Miss Lane, Lois, this is Lex Luthor,’ the machine said. ‘I just wanted to let you know that my people are doing everything in their power to locate Superman. I’m sure you agree that his loss will be a serious blow to the city, and the world… And I would be honored if you would join me at dinner tomorrow so I could share my plans for helping Metropolis deal with this tragedy. As they say, ‘Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow.’’
Superman wasn’t even declared dead and Luthor was planning to capitalize on it.
She kicked off her shoes and hurried into her bedroom the get ready for bed as she contemplated her next move in regards to Lex Luthor. Yes, he was the third wealthiest man in the world, a brilliant businessman as well as a philanthropist. But the threat of the Nightfall asteroid had brought out the worst in many people – and Luthor had been one of them.
In the days between the announcement of Nightfall’s imminent threat and Superman’s attack on the giant rock, Luthor had invited Lois to lunch. He then took her into one of the deep sub-basements under his tower.
“You are standing precisely five hundred meters below Metropolis street level. Surrounded by sixteen inch reinforced concrete walls originally designed to survive a nuclear attack,” he had told her, proudly showing her the sterile white tiled corridors beneath the LexCorp tower.
“A bunker,” she translated.
“I prefer to think of it as an… 'Ark.',” he demurred. “We have room for two hundred people. Supplies to last three years. Tools and implements for farming and manufacture when we re-emerge.”
“So, even if the world dies, you live?” Lois asked.
“The survival of a species does not depend on the survival of all its members. Indeed, were the dinosaurs possessed of a somewhat larger brain, they, too, might have escaped their fate. Fortunately for us, they did not, and now, the next chance is ours,” Lex told her. He seemed pleased with his assessment of the situation, the prospects of a new world run by men such as himself.
She was puzzled. “Do you want me to... write about this?”
“No, no. I seek no publicity,” he assured her. “In fact, considering the circumstances, advertising the existence of this would seem to be rather cruel.”
“Then why am I here?”
They had been walking through the maze of corridors and paused beside a white door. One of many white doors set into the walls of the corridors. Luthor pushed open the door and gestured for Lois to step inside – into her own apartment.
“This is my apartment.” Lois tried to keep the shock out of her voice.
“Well, at least a reasonable facsimile thereof,” Luthor admitted. “I hope you like it.”
“What's not to like? I decorated it,” she said. “But I am a little confused.”
“I'm offering you a chance, Lois, to be a passenger on this ark. To be my special guest on Mankind's next great adventure,” he said. He moved to one of the draped front windows and threw it open to reveal a bright sunny day. “It's an illusion, of course, but, nonetheless, better than a wall. To help you remember the way things were. How they might be again.”
“Why me, Lex?” she asked. She suspected that Luthor had been sprayed by Miranda Miller’s pheromone poison several weeks earlier and had a suspicion that Luthor had an unhealthy fixation on her. This facsimile of her apartment created in this maze supported that idea.
Then she realized that Luthor’s people had to have had access to her apartment, and that thought sent a chill down her spine. He’d been spying on her.
Luthor smiled at her but the smile seemed forced, as though he was trying not to be openly condescending. “Because I care,” he said. “And, I must admit, because three years will be a long time without... 'companionship.'”
“And who else will be sailing in this ark?” Lois asked.
Luthor shrugged. “I’ve had my most trusted advisors put together a list of the best and brightest young men and women in their fields. The emphasis was placed on fit and genetically strong women, naturally. The male of the species is more or less superfluous once the job of procreation is handled.”
“I think Doctor Strangelove suggested a ten to one ratio,” Lois commented. Luthor looked momentarily confused before chuckling. “Well, Hollywood doesn’t get everything wrong.”
She studied him. He was debonair and intelligent, physically fit and he’d been spying on her, stalking her using his empire. It was a frightening thought.
“You don’t think EPRAD and Superman can handle Nightfall, do you?” It was a statement.
“My credo has always been ‘Hope for the best and plan for the worst’,” he said with a shrug. “I think it’s a mistake to trust the fate of the planet to an alien we know nothing about. And if this is something we can’t handle, them maybe this is God’s way of separating the wheat from the chaff, of selecting those capable of building a new, glorious world.”
“Lex, I don't know...” she said. All of her instincts screamed to her that there was something wrong with what he was proposing to her. The invitation was a silken trap.
“Think about it. I'll await your decision,” he said. Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the ‘apartment’. Lois took a moment to look around the living room again – everything was in its place, even her magazine subscriptions, and the books on the shelves. The books included two she had purchased just three days before. ‘Does he think I’m so stupid that I wouldn’t realize how he got his information about me? Or does he think his money has me so infatuated with him that I wouldn’t care?’
“Lex,” she called.
He stopped and turned to look back at her. “May I send someone to pack your personal belongings?”
“No. The Daily Planet needs me. I've got friends there that are like family to me. I can't stay here. I won’t abandon them.”
“Lois, mob rule is not a pretty sight. You don't have to see it.”
“Yes, I do. If that asteroid does destroy the world as we know it,” she told him “I have to be there to see what takes its place. It may be the best comeback in history.”
“Or the fastest knock-out.”
“Either way, I have to see for myself. I’m a journalist,” she told him. “Besides, I have faith that Superman will be able to save us. But thanks for the invitation.”
With that she had walked out on him, but not before she caught the open mouthed astonishment on his face which turned into a dark glower.
“I can’t keep this offer open for long,” he yelled after her. “You’ll be begging me to save you after that blue freak fails!”
She kept walking.
A quick call to a friend of a friend brought a surveillance expert to her apartment. He scanned the rooms electronically and visually, finding several listening devices as well as miniature cameras that had been situated so that there was no place in her apartment that was not under observation – including the bathroom.
“These are very sophisticated, very expensive devices,” the man told her.
“Can you find out who bought them?” she asked.
“They’re made by Luthor Electronics and the U.S. government holds the exclusive contract,” he said. “I can see if I can find out which agency is keeping close tabs on you.”
“Don’t bother,” she told him. “I’ve had run-ins with the Feds before. This is too subtle for them. They would just confiscate my computer and notes, try to scare me. This is more personal.”
“Look, Miss,” he said. “Whoever arranged this has a lot of clout. Dangerous clout.”
“I know,” Lois admitted. “How much do I owe you?”
He shook his head. “For a friend of Louie’s, it’s on the house. Besides, have you any idea what these are worth on the open market?”Lois decided not to return Lex’s call until morning. She needed to be fresh and alert when she talked to him. She also hoped Clark would be better in the morning. She wanted back-up when she went to meet with Luthor, and even with his memory on the fritz, Lois trusted Clark’s reporter instincts – mostly.
-o-o-o-
Lois woke to her phone ringing. She opened one eye to check the time on her alarm clock. Six AM. Groaning, she picked up the receiver.
“This had better be good,” she warned whoever was on the other end.
“Uh. Lois, I’m so sorry to call you this early but my parents are at the airport,” Clark blurted out. “Could you find it in your heart to pick me up and we go get them? I’ll buy breakfast…”
She was silent for a long moment.
“Lois…?” He sounded like he was near panic.
“You had better have coffee ready for me when I get there,” she told him, letting him off the hook. “I’ll see you in a couple minutes.”
She threw on the clothes she’d worn the day before, promising herself to come back later to shower and change clothes. She made it to Clark’s apartment less than five minutes later.
Clark was waiting for her on the front stoop of his building. He looked like he was in worse shape than she was. His clothes were wrinkled and he needed a shave. But he was holding two commuter cups as he made his way into the passenger seat of her car. He handed her one and she took a sip. It was hot, strong, and doctored just the way she liked it.
“That’s good,” she proclaimed as she pulled into the early morning traffic. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
“A little,” he told her. “I kept having weird dreams, and then I remembered keeping a journal so I decided to look for it.”
“Most writers do keep a journal,” Lois said.
He nodded. “I figured that would jog my memory a little more, but I couldn’t find it. And then I couldn’t find my shaver, or a razor, and that makes no sense…”
“Clark, not having potholders in your kitchen makes no sense, either,” Lois reminded him. “How’s your hand?”
“Still hurts like the dickens,” he told her.
The traffic was getting heavier as they approached the airport and Lois had to concentrate on what she was doing. She turned into the passenger pick-up area and spotted Martha and Jonathan waiting beside the curb. The pair waved at her and hurried to the car as she slowed to a stop. Clark hopped out and helped them with their bag, placing it in the back of the jeep as they climbed into the back seat.
Then he slid into the front, next to Lois, and they drove off.
“Clark, what did you do to your hand?” Martha asked.
“I burnt it last night,” Clark told her. “A stupid accident. But it should be fine in a couple days.”
In the rearview mirror, Lois caught the worried looks Clark’s parents gave each other.
“Son, how are you, really?” Jonathan asked gently.
“Lois told you about the memory problems, right?” Clark asked. He had twisted in his seat so that he could look back at them.
“She mentioned something about that, yes,” Martha admitted.
“Well, things are starting to come back,” Clark told them. “But there are still a lot of holes. Like where I put my shaver, and my journal, and why, when I left to do whatever it was I was doing before I lost my memory, I left my keys and wallet at home…”
Again Lois caught the odd look that passed between the older couple.
“Don’t worry, son. We’ll get it all sorted out,” Jonathan promised.
-o-o-o-
Lois dropped Clark and his parents off at his apartment and headed back to her own place to get ready for work. She called Perry to let him know that she and Clark were running late.
There was a second message waiting on her answering machine when she got out of the shower. ‘Lois, I’m disappointed you didn’t get back to me last night,’ Lex Luthor’s voice said. ‘Dinner will be at seven, at the penthouse. I would very much like to share my plans for the Superman memorial with you.’
After a moment of thought, Lois picked up the phone and dialed Luthor’s personal number. A woman answered – Mrs. Cox, one of Luthor’s personal assistants.
“Mrs. Cox,” Lois began. “I wanted to let Mister Luthor know that I accept his kind offer of dinner this evening, and if it isn’t too much of an imposition, I’d like to bring my partner, Mister Kent, with me.”
There was a long pause before Mrs. Cox spoke again. The other woman’s voice, while never friendly, was positively chilly. “I’ll let Mister Luthor know to expect an additional guest at dinner this evening.”
-o-o-o-
Clark was shaved and looking presentable when Lois picked him up.
“You found your shaver?” she asked as he slid into the passenger seat.
“I used my dad’s,” he told her. “Mom re-bandaged my hand, put some ointment on it. It doesn’t hurt quite so much.”
“So, anything else come back?”
He sighed. “Kind of. I remember bits and pieces. Lots of bits and pieces. Mom said there was a theory of memory that said we sort things, memories, using a narrative. That’s how we index things and that’s why memories can change over time. We’ve edited the narrative, like editing a film or a book.”
“And for you, the scenes are all messed up because you’ve mislaid the index?” Lois asked.
“That might be stretching the analogy, but yeah,” Clark said. “Mom brought a bunch of photo albums for me to go through. She wasn’t real happy that Perry wasn’t giving me time off to get things sorted though.”
“We didn’t ask,” Lois reminded him. “Besides, Doctor McCorkle said you needed to be around familiar places and people, so that would be the newsroom.”
“I guess so,” Clark said.
Lois pulled her jeep into her parking space in the Daily Planet parking garage.
“So what’s the plan for today?” he asked.
“Finishing up our stories about the asteroid and about the search for Superman,” she told him. “I was trying to get an interview with Vincent Winninger before all this happened. But I’m sure Perry will have some things for us to work on.”
Perry was waiting as they arrived in the newsroom. “Well, son, how’re we doing this morning? And what did you do to yourself?” He nodded to Clark’s bandaged hand.
“We are doing okay. Aside from pulling a bonehead stunt and burning my hand last night,” Clark said. “My parents flew in this morning. And things are starting to fit together, sort of. Mom suggested I read through everything I’ve had run in the Planet.”
“I’ll have Jimmy get copies for you,” Perry promised. “In the meantime, I’ve got an appointment for you with Doctor Maxwell Deter over at the Neuroscience Center. He’s one of the foremost experts in memory loss.”
“And then tonight,” Lois said, addressing both Clark and Perry, “Clark and I are having dinner with Lex Luthor. He wants to tell us about his plans to help the city cope with the loss of Superman. And his plans for a memorial.”
“Luthor?” There was something odd in Clark’s voice. For a moment Lois thought he had actually gone a little pale.
“You remember something, son?” Perry asked.
“I’ve met Luthor, right?” Clark asked. “About my height, slender, reddish-brown curly hair, hooded eyes, arrogant.”
“That’s him,” Lois confirmed. “You’ve met him a number of times, at the White Orchid ball, news conferences, other places. You don’t like him much, but you’ve never told me why, exactly.” She studied his face. He looked worried. “Clark, what is it? Do you remember something about Luthor?”
“I don’t know if it’s a memory or not,” he admitted. “But he kept showing up in my dreams last night. Nightmares, really. He was wearing a tuxedo and pointing a Macedonian sword at my heart saying it belonged to Alexander the Great… then he was screaming at me like he’d lost his mind, screaming ‘you are a dead man’.” He swallowed hard.
“Luthor did hold a sword on you,” Lois told him.
Perry’s eyes went wide in surprise. Obviously Clark had never told him about what happened to them during the White Orchid Ball.
“He found us in his office during the White Orchid Ball,” Lois continued. “Not too long after you had the gall to cut in on his dance with me. He said you surprised him and not many people were capable of that.”
“He showed us the view from the balcony,” Clark said softly. “It was the tallest building in Metropolis. He said ‘I must confess a certain pleasure in knowing that everyone in the city has to look up in order to see me.’”
“That’s exactly what he said,” Lois confirmed. Clark didn’t seem relieved to know it had been real.
“And him threatening me?” Clark asked.
“That doesn’t sound like Lex,” Lois said. “He’s always so well controlled, but it’s possible you got his back up on something. Like I said, I know you don’t like him. Maybe it’s mutual.”
“I wish I knew what it was,” Clark told them. “He’s a dangerous man to have mad at me, especially when I don’t know why.”
“We’ll figure it out, Clark,” Lois promised.
“Look, kids,” Perry said. “EPRAD’s not going to make their official announcement until later this afternoon, but we already know what they’re going to say.”
“They’ll be calling off the search for Superman.” Lois said. She knew that was their plan. Superman was still missing and there was still no evidence he had returned to Earth.
“They’ll still be looking at the crank calls for a few days, I’m sure. But so far not a single one has panned out. I’ve been fielding the calls that have come here,” Perry said. “So you get over to the Neuroscience Center and talk to this Deter fellow. Who knows? He might be able to help.”
