Pheromone, More Likely: 8/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"We'll figure something out," Lois said. Suddenly Lex's perfidy had become of secondary importance. She didn't wonder until later why she had accepted what Clark had to say without question, and why she wasn't more upset at what he'd told her. Somehow, it all fit, and she had no doubt that he was telling the exact truth. Clark didn't like Lex, but he wouldn't make up something like this about anyone. They had a problem to deal with, now: how to prove to the satisfaction of the law that Lex Luthor and Miranda were conspiring to produce a mind-altering substance that had almost unlimited potential for disaster. She jumped to her feet, nearly knocking her coffee cup on the floor. Clark caught it as it teetered at the very edge of the table and stood up, setting it in the sink.
"Come on!" she ordered.
"Where?"
"To the Planet. We have to get to work on this right away!"
"You believe me?"
"Don't be silly; of course I believe you, Clark! Let's get on this now!"
Looking slightly stunned, he followed her from the apartment.
**********
And now, Part 8:
The Planet's staff meeting was just getting underway when they arrived. Evidently, things were not quite back to normal yet, Lois thought, taking the seat one chair down from Perry's. Wally shuffled in, avoiding her eye, and settled down at the end of the table as far as he could get from her. Pete stared grumpily into his styrofoam cup, the usual sour expression on his features. Lois recalled smugly the excellent coffee she'd had at Clark's this morning and figured she already had a jump-start on the day. It was amazing, she thought, that the revelations about Lex hadn't upset her more. It must mean something, and she would undoubtedly figure it out eventually. Maybe it was just her. She'd liked Lex, or thought she did. She should have at been at least sorry that he had turned out to have feet of clay, and maybe a lot more than his feet, if what Superman had told Clark was even halfway true and she had no doubt that it was.
Clark followed her into the room and quietly set a cup of coffee and a doughnut before her. Just as unobtrusively, he sank into the seat next to her and parked a cake doughnut and his own cup of coffee, probably loaded with whole milk and sugar, Lois thought, judging by its appearance, on the table in front of him. She sighed, envying him his metabolism. How he could swallow all that fat-filled, cholesterol-laden junk and still maintain a body designed to make any woman drool baffled her. He must burn calories almost as fast as Bobby Bigmouth. And when did he ever have time to work out enough to keep it?
Jimmy Olsen entered the room and handed her a folded note. Lois took it, glancing at the junior photographer. Jimmy looked slightly subdued, as if something were bothering him. Judging from her own behavior, she could imagine what it might have been.
"How are you doing?" she asked, with an uncharacteristic touch of sympathy.
"Back to normal," he said. "Just plain, old Jimmy."
Lois could sympathize.
She opened the note.
The handwriting was unfamiliar. "Dear Lois," she read, "if you want to know everything about 'Revenge', I will speak to you alone, woman to woman. Meet me at the Metro Private Airport, Hangar 4, at three o'clock ..."
She looked up to find Clark watching her.
"Anything?" he asked in a low voice.
"Tell you later," she whispered back.
The door opened. Perry White entered the conference room and sat down in his chair. Behind him, Rehalia hesitated in the doorway, then walked to the nearest trashcan and dumped the contents into the plastic bag she carried. She glanced sideways at Perry, who nodded briefly to her and turned to the now-silent group of journalists at the conference table.
Clark cast a sidelong look at the cleaning woman and turned back to their boss. "I assume everything is ..."
"She dropped the lawsuit," Perry replied in a low tone.
"And Alice?"
"She let me back in ... on a trial basis."
"It'll be okay, Chief," Clark said. "We've got a lead on the pheromone thing."
"Good." The editor looked around at the table full of scowling, coffee-swilling staff members. "What is this, the Betty Crocker bake-off? Let's get started." He nodded at Lois. "Thanks for the re-write on the fruit fly thing. Now, on the ..."
Jimmy stood up suddenly. Beyond the window, Lois saw one of the models who had attended the fashion show three days before.
"I gotta go, Chief," Jimmy said, hastily, nearly tripping over Eduardo's foot as he scrambled for the door. "I gotta talk to her!"
"Not on my time, you don't!" Perry said. The closing door punctuated the sentence. "Jimmy! Blast that kid!"
Lois turned deliberately away from the scene beyond the conference room window. Cat, looking uncommonly pleased with herself, was doodling on a writing pad with her pencil. "How much of that stuff did you get sprayed with?" Lois asked. "You were pretty insatiable, even for ... well ... you."
Cat looked slightly puzzled. "What are you talking about? I didn't get sprayed."
Clark choked slightly and Lois stared at her, bemused.
Perry's lips twitched in a shadow of the first smile Lois had seen from him since the effects of the pheromone had worn off, then he sobered and rapped on the table for attention. "All right everybody, as you were. Friaz, I hope you're picking up where you left off on the bio-waste scandal at Metro General ..."
"I got hold of my source this morning, Chief. I'm meeting him in two hours ..."
Perry nodded, then Lois saw him look past her and turned to see what had caught his attention. Jimmy appeared to be in earnest conversation with the unquestionably beautiful model who had entered the newsroom a short time before. As she watched, the girl looked past him at the watching staffers, smiled slightly, turned and kissed Jimmy full on the lips. A moment later, she was hurrying up the steps toward the elevator. Jimmy stood gazing after her, a stunned, but pleased expression on his face.
Perry gave a short bark of laughter and turned to Wally. "Now, about that interview with your witness at City Hall ..."
**********
When the meeting broke up, Lois caught her partner's sleeve. "Take a look at this."
Clark read the note, frowned and looked back at her. "Why would she want to talk to anyone about this stuff, especially after yesterday?"
"The best way to find out is for me to meet her," Lois said.
Clark stared at her. "Don't tell me you're going out there to talk to her, alone!"
"Well, I can't take you along, or she won't talk," Lois said, reasonably. The argument sounded perfectly logical to her.
"Lois, the woman isn't exactly a pillar of the community! She dosed you with that pheromone once. She could do it again!"
"If she pulls the stuff out, I'll hold my breath. And, you know I'm going to be there. If something happens, you can call the police."
"That might be too late!"
"I can take care of myself," she said, aware that she was being stubborn, but not about to back down.
Clark rolled his eyes. "Okay, you're going to meet with her. What am *I* going to do?"
"You're going to wait outside in my Jeep."
"Uh huh."
"You don't think I can handle it?" she challenged.
"I think neither of us knows what this woman has planned!" Clark protested.
"Well, that's what we're going to find out," Lois said. "Maybe this will be our chance to prove what she's doing with her perfume."
Clark didn't answer, but Lois knew she hadn't convinced him. She didn't really care whether she had or not, as long as he was willing to go along with her -- or was at least cooperating. She glanced at her watch. It was a quarter after eleven.
By two o'clock, Lois had heard and disposed of every argument that Clark had managed to present. Under her irritation at his persistence, she felt a little sorry for her partner. He was obviously worried about her, and yet she knew he would do as she asked.
She glanced at her watch again and grabbed the shoulder bag from under her desk. "Come on."
"Lois, the meeting isn't until three," Clark observed.
"I know," she informed him. "I want to get there a little early, before she expects us. Maybe we can find out what she's got in mind."
"Did you let me stew about this for almost three hours on purpose?" he inquired while they waited for the elevator.
"Who, me? Why would I do that?"
"Just to show me that I shouldn't underestimate you, maybe?"
Lois didn't answer, as the elevator doors opened at that instant and they stepped in.
**********
The Metro Private Airport was, naturally, considerably smaller than the big, commercial one. This field was the one used by the private planes, including the cropdusters that sprayed the large, commercial fields and orchards belonging to Luthor Agricultural to the north and west of the city proper.
"Interesting," Clark said, as Lois pulled the Jeep into a parking spot at some distance from Hangar 4.
"What is?" she asked, glancing at him.
He pushed his glasses into place. "This is the hangar for the plane that's doing the local fruit fly spraying. See the big metal canisters stacked against the side of the hangar? Those are Malathion."
"What, you've got Superman's eyes all of a sudden?" Lois asked.
"I have a strong prescription," Clark said.
"Hmm." She set the hand brake and opened her door. "Come on, let's go see what we can see. Quietly."
"Okay." Clark pushed open his door and got out. With one hand he fiddled with his glasses. Lois figured that the older set that he was wearing now in place of the ones that Wally had broken must be a little uncomfortable. She certainly couldn't get used to them. Every time she looked at them, a vague memory seemed to prod at her, something that she had seen in the last day or two, to which she had paid no attention at the time. Something about the incident, whatever it had been, wouldn't let her alone, and the feeling of having forgotten something significant was maddening.
She shut the driver's door quietly instead of slamming it in her usual manner. "Are you getting your glasses fixed?" she asked.
"Huh?" He seemed surprised at the question. "Yeah, I dropped them at my optometrist's, yesterday afternoon. I'll be glad to get them back. I don't really care for these frames."
"Me either," Lois said. "They're too heavy for your face. I like the narrower frames better."
"So do I." He glanced around. "I don't see Miranda."
"She may be in the hanger. Let's go. Quietly. I don't want her to know we're here until we have a chance to look around."
He nodded and turned, surveying the area in a circle around the Jeep. Lois had parked to the rear of Hangar 4 by design, out of sight if Miranda should happen to be present, and watching for her.
"Lois, look over there." He pointed suddenly.
"Where?"
"By the manager's office. Isn't that Luthor's limo?"
Lois turned to look. The white building some distance away from the hangars had a number of vehicles parked in front of it, but to its side, a long, black car sat in the shade. Only part of it was visible from their position, but it certainly looked a great deal like Luthor's limousine.
"I guess it could be. He hasn't got the only limo in Metropolis, you know."
"Maybe we should check."
Lois considered. "One person is less obvious than two. You take a look and I'll meet you over by the hangar. I have the feeling that we shouldn't waste time. She's going to be expecting me in a little while."
He looked as if he would like to argue, but decided against it. He jogged toward the office, and Lois headed toward Hangar 4.
Some distance away, a big fuel truck was servicing one of the planes that she assumed would be involved in the fruit fly spraying that began at four, but aside from two men in the soiled white coveralls of airport employees, she saw no one else. They paid her no attention as she approached the big airplane hangar.
She had taken the time before they left to change her smart, tailored suit and heels for more practical slacks and running shoes in anticipation of the necessity for sneaking around. At least initially, however, there appeared to be no other sign of life as she peeked through a small, somewhat dirty window into the hangar itself. Cautiously, she rounded the corner of the building and slipped inside.
No living thing met her eye. Big metal canisters, similar to the ones that Clark had noted against the outer wall of the hangar, met her gaze, although these were unmarked. Cautiously, not sure whether to be pleased or disappointed, she moved forward on nearly silent feet, mindful of the tendency of big buildings of this sort to magnify sounds. The rubber soles of her shoes kept echoes to a minimum as she slipped forward, hugging the wall.
She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but the fact that Miranda had wanted to meet with her here had to mean something. For the third time, she paused, listening as a sound echoed softly around the big hangar. Probably it was her own footsteps that she was hearing, but she wasn't going to take the chance of it being anything else. A glance at her watch told her that it was two-thirty. If Miranda hadn't arrived yet, she probably would soon.
She held her breath, listening. A voice echoed faintly around the big structure, and now she saw that a door at the back of the hangar was open a few inches, and that had to be the source of the sound.
She moved softly forward, trying to make no noise at all, and pressed her back to the wall next to the slightly open door.
"Lex, I have no idea what you're talking about." It was Miranda's voice.
"My dear, I know exactly what you did." Lex's voice was controlled and cool. "You sprayed me with your pheromone at our meeting, yesterday. I've been feeling and doing things since then, that make no sense. I still --" There was a hesitation in his voice. "I still am not sure which feelings are mine and which are pheromone-induced."
There was a brittle, crystal laugh from Miranda. You could almost see the ice crystals hanging from it, Lois thought. "And who are you having all these irrational thoughts about, Lex? Lois Lane?"
"That is irrelevant," Lex's voice said. "This is a business contract, Miranda. A joke is a joke, but if you try to carry it further, I might very will decide to terminate our partnership."
"You still don't understand, do you, Lex?" she said, and the laughter had vanished. "I did all of this for you. The perfume was my gift to you, my contribution to your business empire. With it, you can influence leaders and the masses all over the globe. I gave you all that, and now you're throwing me aside for Lois Lane!"
"Lois Lane isn't a part of this equation, Miranda. Don't bring her up again."
"No, she isn't," Miranda said. There was a soft hissing noise, and Lex began to cough. "You see, if I can't have you, no one will."
**********
(tbc)
