From Part 5 ...
Kal stood and pushed the button to summon Tek to escort Eb’s father and husband back into the Chambers. When they again flanked Eb, Kal looked at her husband. “My judgment is that you are to return to your family.”
The husband didn’t move. But Kal thought he sensed ... despair.
“Your wife is to return with you,” Kal said. “You are to protect her.”
The man’s face remained impassive. But his despair seemed to have eked away. “I will,” he said.
Kal’s attention swung to Eb’s father. “Your family will receive regular, on-going payments to compensate for the loss of your daughter ... these payments should be fair to both sides.”
“Yes.”
“The details of the agreement are to be submitted for my approval.”
“Yes.” Both men spoke. Eb said nothing.
“You may leave,” Kal said.
The three people turned and headed for the door. The father exited, followed by the younger brother. Eb hesitated at the door and turned, head still low, but eyes searching for Kal.
She held his gaze for a stretched moment, before following her husband.
Part 6
Ten minutes after they’d left Kal’s gates, Jib and Mo stopped at a small hut and went inside. If they were aware that Lois trailed them, they gave no indication. Once inside the tiny building, they shut the door, still without reference to her.
As they’d walked, Lois had noticed the standard of the buildings deteriorating sharply. Those closest to Kal’s gates were small and untidy, but looked solid enough. Further away, the buildings became ramshackle and flimsy.
There were no flower gardens and very few trees. Occasionally she saw small patches of sparse vegetation which could have represented attempts at vegetable production.
They encountered very few people. Those they did pass kept their heads down. The women wore loose gowns. The men wore pants and baggy shirts. They saw no children.
Jib and Mo had not spoken to each other. Nor did they speak to – or even acknowledge - anyone they passed.
Was it Lois’s presence that froze their friendliness?
Had a warning been broadcast on the Kryptonian equivalent of a grapevine?
< Beware! The Alien is out and about!>
Or were they just the least social people imaginable?
With Jib and Mo inside the tiny hut, Lois hesitated, unsure what to do now. Although reasonably confident she could find her way back to Kal’s buildings, she decided to wait and use the time to observe her new planet.
The smell – the one closely resembling boiled gym socks – pervaded the air. Lois was becoming accustomed to it, but it still registered as unpleasant.
It was dull, the dark mass of cloud hung above them, blocking out whatever brightness they may have received from their sun. Everything was tinged rusty red.
And it was cold. Still. Eerie. Lois realised she had never felt even the slightest zephyr of breeze on this planet. She’d never seen the sun shining. Never felt warmth from above.
The door to the shack opened and Jib and Mo came out. They began walking in the direction of Kal’s building.
Feeling isolated and bereft of other options, Lois followed them.
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As Lois reached the gates, Jib and Mo disappeared into their respective rooms. Discouraged, Lois looked beyond the gates. She was sure she could feel the onset of cabin fever.
Tek emerged from Kal’s building and walked past her without acknowledgement. He continued through the gates. “Tek!” Lois called, her voice rising with frustration.
He turned. “Yes.”
She hurried to him. “Hello, Tek. I’m Lois.”
“I remember.”
“How are you?”
She wasn’t sure how she could read confusion amidst such barrenness, but she could. “Do you need something?” he asked.
“I’m new here.”
“I know.” He turned a few degrees to face her more fully. “Do you need something?” he repeated.
“If I did, would you get it for me?”
“Yes.”
Why? Because he was a nice guy? Because he was Kal’s employee and she was Kal’s concubine? Did he have to do what she asked? Would he be punished if he refused? “Do you work here every day?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t live here?”
“No.”
“Do you live with your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have children?”
“Two.”
“Is your house cold?”
“Yes.”
The shortness of his answers didn’t offer any encouragement to persevere with the conversation.
Was it them? Kryptonians?
Or was it her?
Was it because she was a woman?
Or because she was a concubine?
“Do you need anything?” he asked. Lois sensed he was asking her permission to leave.
“No,” she replied. “Go home to your wife.”
Without replying, Tek turned and walked through the gates.
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The Water Committee meeting dragged unbearably. Kal asked the same questions he had asked a hundred times before and they gave him the same answers he had heard a hundred times before.
The only detail that had changed was they now estimated they were seven days closer to running out of water than they’d been this time last week.
The planet was still heading inevitably towards complete dryness. Life would be unsustainable very soon after that.
Kal felt his irritation growing. He didn’t want to be here.
Sure, he wanted - genuinely wanted - to be able to supply everything his people needed. But this wasn’t helping. Sure, he was interested - genuinely interested - in researching any idea that may actually find a way to supply the water they needed.
But he was not interested in listening to already-failed ideas and schemes dressed up to look new when in reality, they were not.
This was a waste of his time.
Which had never worried him before.
But now ... every minute here, was a minute he couldn’t be with Low-iss.
Kal tuned out the dreary monotone of the man who was, for at least the third time, proposing they use salt water from the ocean to water their crops.
Every Scientist, every farmer, Kal had consulted had assured him this would decrease the already low productivity of their soil, and within a short time, render it unusable.
And it wouldn’t produce crops anyway.
“Enough!” Kal said as he stood. “I have heard enough.”
Six pairs of eyes gawked at him. Kal was very aware they had never seen him act like this.
“I am closing this meeting,” he declared. “We will meet again in one week. Don’t come unless you have new ideas to discuss.” With that, Kal gathered his files and strode from the room.
He headed directly for his bedroom.
To Low-iss.
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Lord Nor stared into the nothingness, his mind ferreting through the clutter of possibilities for anything that could possibly be relevant.
The rest of the Water Committee had dispersed soon after the abrupt and incongruous departure of Kal-El.
Did his sudden bizarre behaviour have anything to do with the alien woman?
Was he spending as much time with her as was rumoured?
And if he was ... why?
Merely for information?
She was deplorably ugly, even for an alien species. Could it be possible that Kal-El had finally managed to comprehend that there was more to life than coddling the underclass?
If he had ... if his attention had meandered elsewhere ... surely that could only be of benefit.
Could the alien woman have anything – knowledge, intuition, abilities, understanding – anything at all that could threaten Nor’s plans for the future of New Krypton?
He could not see how. His plans were too thorough, too watertight, too *important*.
But why now? Why had she come now - when the culmination of everything was imminent?
Nor didn’t believe in a higher power. But he did believe in destiny. His destiny.
And his destiny was to rule New Krypton.
And he had no intention of allowing the chance appearance of a pariah to jeopardise that destiny.
For now, he would continue to monitor the situation. For now, he would watch and wait ... as he had waited for so long.
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Kal paused outside his bedroom door. Was she in there?
He should knock, he decided. He’d never knocked on a door in his life. As Supreme Ruler, every house, every room on Planet New Krypton was his to enter as he pleased.
But if she happened to be changing her clothes, he didn’t want to go in unannounced.
That would be just too embarrassing.
What had happened this morning was embarrassing enough.
He raised his hand and knocked on the door.
Moments later, his door opened and there she was. Low-iss. She did her mouth-twitch and it reached inside him and unravelled the tension that had been building the past two hours. “You don’t have to knock on your own bedroom door,” she said.
Kal felt his face warm. He hoped she wouldn’t notice. “I didn’t want to catch you unawares.”
Her mouth-twitch widened. “I won’t change in your room,” she said. “I’ll do it in my room. So you don’t have to knock.”
Yet again, Kal had not come prepared. He had swept out of the Water Meeting without a thought in his head beyond seeing if Low-iss was in his bedroom. Now, he was here ... he seized the first idea that materialised in his mind. “I should check your head.”
“OK.”
“I don’t know that word.”
“It means all right.”
Low-iss sat on the bed, clearly expecting him to examine the site of her Translator. She deposited her flowing hair behind her ear, revealing the shaved area.
Kal positioned the chair and sat beside her, careful to ensure his knees didn’t come into contact with her thighs. His fingers were a little unsteady; they had not forgotten the ebony silkiness of her hair. He rested them in the long strands, mesmerised by the dark softness of her hair against his skin.
He forced his attention to the wound.
“Is it all right?” Low-iss asked.
“Yes,” he said, relieved the Translator wouldn’t transmit his regret. Not regret that she was healing well, but regret that her question forced him to give his verdict and move away.
He did.
She mouth-twitched him again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Has your meeting finished?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“What was it about?”
“Water.”
“Water?”
“We are running out.”
“You’re having a drought?”
Kal sighed. “It hasn’t rained since we came here.”
The remnants of her mouth-twitch disappeared and a tiny line appeared just above the bridge of her nose. “How long have you been here?”
“My people have been here twenty-three winters.”
“And it hasn’t rained once?”
“No,” Kal said. “We only know about rain because it rained on Krypton.”
Low-iss didn’t reply for a moment and Kal wondered if she had understood. “You ... all your people used to live on another planet?” she asked.
He was about to say ‘yes’ when he remembered that moving his head up and down had made Low-iss do the mouth-twitch before. He did that, but was disappointed. “We lived on Krypton,” he explained. “It was destroyed. A small number of our people escaped and found this planet. We call it New Krypton.”
“How terrible,” Low-iss said quietly. The line had deepened. Kal checked her eyes to see if they had moisture. They didn’t.
“This planet had lakes and rivers when we arrived, but we have used the water and it has diminished and now we have only enough for two months.”
“Two months?” Her voice had risen.
“Yes,” Kal confirmed. “I have a meeting with my Water Committee once a week, but nothing we have attempted has brought a solution.”
“Do the people know?”
“Know what?”
“Know that in two months, you will have no water.”
“No,” Kal said. “They know we have very little water. They can see the dry lakes. But they don’t know how little time we have.”
“It hasn’t rained once?” Low-iss asked. “Not once in twenty-three years?”
“No.”
They sat in silence for some time. Kal checked his watch. There was still an hour before his supper would be served. What was he going to do?
He’d never closed the Water Meeting early. Had never closed any meeting early.
He didn’t know what to do. All he knew was he wanted to do it with Low-iss. “Do you have another meeting?” she asked.
Maybe she had more questions. Maybe she was hoping he would have time to give her answers. “No.”
“Shall we do more disputes?” she suggested. “That is a pretty big pile.”
Kal didn’t think the pile was pretty at all. And he never did the Disputes before supper. They were done after supper.
But why? Why couldn’t he do them now? With Low-iss? He did rue the lengthy periods of time his people had to wait for his judgments. “Yes,” he said decisively as he rose to bring a handful of folders to the bed. “Let’s do the Disputes.”
He placed them on the bed next to Low-iss. Then he remembered – there should be a follow-up submission from Eb’s family. He returned to his desk and removed the bottom file. He flicked it open and, realising it was the correct one, took it back and sat on the chair.
“Are we doing them out of order?” Low-iss asked.
“This is one from yesterday,” Kal said. “The one involving the brothers.”
“The one where you said the younger brother had to go back to his family’s farm and leave his wife with her family?”
“Yes.”
“Why is it back again?”
“I changed my judgment later.”
“You did?”
Kal took the paper from the folder and read, “An agreement is to be tendered to the Supreme Ruler for his approval. The agreement is to incorporate the younger brother returning to his family home, his wife returning with him and her family receiving on-going recompense for her loss.” Kal sought Low-iss’s face as he read the final words.
This time he wasn’t disappointed. Her mouth-twitch was broad and brimming with vitality. “Do you have the agreement there?” she asked.
Kal dragged his eyes from her face, aware of how much he didn’t want to. He lifted the second piece of paper and read, “We offer ten sacks of grain every year as recompense for my brother’s wife.” Kal lowered that sheet of paper and picked up the next one. “We accept.”
Low-iss’s head tipped back and her shoulders shook. Kal could see the wide mouth-twitch that seemed to illuminate her entire face. And this one had the sound too. It was such a ... he grappled for the right word. Delightful. It was such a delightful sound. He could listen to her do it all day and never grow tired of it. It made him feel so good.
When she had straightened, and stilled, her mouth-twitch was still there. Her eyes were damp. Kal looked more closely. Nothing had leaked. He wished it had. He wanted an excuse to touch her again. “What is that called?” he asked. “What is the word for it?”
“Laughter,” she replied. “I’m laughing.”
“What is the word when you don’t make the sound?”
“Smile.”
None of the words had translated, but Kal had been expecting that. “I like it when you do it.”
She did it again as her eyes bored into his, holding him captive as securely as if she had him tightly bound with thick rope. Eventually, she released him and her eyes dropped. “Why are there no names in the submissions?” she asked.
Kal wrote his approval of the agreement and closed the folder. “To ensure I judge according to the situation, not according to the persons involved.”
“They don’t trust you to be impartial?”
Kal didn’t know how to answer – not without giving her the long, shame-filled history of his people. The history that hovered just below the surface of every aspect of life on New Krypton.
The history that still seeped into every Dispute, every deal, every crime.
The history everyone knew, but no one acknowledged.
But, Kal realised, he *wanted* to tell Low-iss! He wanted her to understand ... his world ... his people ... him. He wanted her to know everything.
Everything?
Even ...
Even his secret?
He *wanted* her to know.
But did he dare tell her?
How would she respond?
He closed down those thoughts. Now was not the time. “I know the wife’s name is Eb,” Kal said.
“How do you know that?”
“I summoned her today to ask her what she wanted to do.”
Low-iss mouth-twitched broadly. Kal enjoyed every mouth-twitch but this one had a ... spontaneity, an energy ... that burrowed the good feeling even deeper into him … even as it ravaged his ability to breathe rhythmically. “That was a wonderful thing to do, Kal,” Low-iss said. She leaned forward and Kal thought she was going to put her hand on his arm. She didn’t. He wanted her to, but she didn’t. “What did she say?”
“She wanted to be with her husband.”
“Maybe she loves him.”
There was that word again. The feeling-in-your-chest word. Could that be why Eb had looked back just prior to leaving his Chambers? Did being away from her husband make her feel ... empty? Empty like he felt whenever he thought about Earth people coming for Low-iss? “Lo-iss?” Kal said.
“Yes?”
“There is a question I want to ask you, but I don’t have some of the words I need.”
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Lois smiled to encourage him, even as her stomach rolled. He was going to ask about love. And she still wasn’t sure she had an explanation he could understand. “Just say what you can and I’ll try to work out the rest,” she said.
Kal took a deep breath and looked at the floor. “When I’m with you ... sometimes I think I know what you’re ... what’s happening ... inside you ... because your face ... changes. Sometimes ... you speak without words.”
“Yes.”
“But I don’t do that.” Kal looked up and into her eyes. “Do I?”
“No,” she said. “Not much.”
“Do all Earth people speak on their faces?”
“Mostly,” Lois answered. “Some more than others.”
“When I consulted with Eb today, her face stayed the same,” Kal said. “It was difficult to discern what she wanted and I thought how much easier it would be if she were like you ... if her face spoke.”
Lois smiled. She wanted to reach across and touch his forearm. Then her memory fired up and plied her with an image of that arm when it was bare. She clutched her hands in her lap.
“Do you find it difficult when I speak to you?” Kal asked.
“I did at first,” Lois admitted. “But not so much now.”
“What has changed?”
“Maybe we’ve learnt things from each other.”
“That’s good,” he said.
Lois realised this was her opportunity - her opportunity to ease some of the sombreness from Kal’s eyes. He took his responsibilities as leader so seriously. And with the water situation, she was beginning to understand why.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t smile. “Have you ever seen a Kryptonian smile?” she asked.
“No.”
Had they smiled on the old planet? Maybe he had forgotten amidst all the worries and difficulties of establishing life on a new planet.
Or maybe he had never smiled. Maybe it just wasn’t the Kryptonian way.
“But you like it when I smile?” Lois asked.
“Very much.”
“I’d like you to smile for me.”
Kal hesitated. “All right,” he said.
Lois grinned. This was going to be fun. “Remember when you put your fingers on my mouth and lifted the edges so I would smile?”
“Yes.”
“I would like to do that to you.”
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Kal’s heart was scuttling around his chest. Low-iss wanted to touch him. Wanted to put her fingers on his face. His mouth had gone as dry as their lakes, so he moved his head up and down to signify his agreement.
She shuffled forward and put her fingers on the edges of his mouth. Her touch caused the burning, just like when she had touched his arm. Yet it didn’t hurt. It was good. So very good.
“Relax, Kal,” she said quietly. “Just relax. Let me do it.”
Relaxing was proving incredibly difficult with her fingers on his mouth and her face so close to his he could feel her breaths whispering across his cheek. He closed his eyes and concentrated on obeying the slight pressure of her touch.
Her fingers lifted from his face and Kal’s eyes shot open. She was ... what did she call the mouth-twitch ... smiling. She was smiling. “Can we try again?” she asked.
She wanted to touch him again. Kal nodded, glad it excused him from speech.
Again, her fingers rested lightly on his mouth. Again, her breath flitted over his cheeks. He felt the pressure increase and the edges of his mouth curve.
“I’m going to take my hands away,” Low-iss said. “Can you try to keep your mouth there?”
He didn’t answer. It wasn’t possible to either shake his head or speak.
Her hands left and he tried to do as she had asked.
Her smile rewarded him. “Well done,” she said. “Now watch my face and try to copy me.” Her smile faded and Kal let the edges of his mouth drop to their customary position. Then she smiled again. He lifted his mouth and felt his lips part – just as he had seen hers do.
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Something had sucked the oxygen from Lois’s lungs, leaving her breathless and more than a little giddy.
Kal’s smile.
It was an absolute heart-stopper.
She felt as if she had discovered hidden treasure of immeasurable value.
Never had she seen a more dazzling, more captivating smile.
On Earth, he would be able to charm an entire roomful of women – of every age – with one single smile. He’d melt them. Every last one of them. They would be defenceless.
*She* was defenceless.
Lois forced air into her flailing lungs and then slowly released it, attempting to steady herself.
“Did I do it?” Kal asked, a little uncertainly.
*Do* it?
Do what? Smile? Liquefy her insides? Enchant her heart? Lure her to the very edge of the terrifying precipice called love? Beguile her to within one smile of toppling into freefall? “Yes,” Lois said, hearing the tremor in her voice. “You did it.”
Even as she said it, Lois knew she was answering all of her silent questions as well as Kal’s spoken one.
But Kal didn’t even have a word for love.
*And* he was married. “How often is the Nobility Convention?” Lois asked, hoping her breathlessness wouldn’t survive the translation.
“Once a year.”
*Once* a year. So Kal *saw* his wife once a year. Was that all they did?
The utter hopelessness of her situation clunked somewhere low in Lois’s stomach. Kal was her master.
Her *master*.
Her master with an intoxicating smile.
Her master who had treated her with absolute kindness and granted her his protection and bridged her isolation with the translator.
Her master who ruled the entire planet.
With endearing earnestness.
And absolute power.
Yet, somehow, had avoided becoming harsh or arrogant or corrupted.
In fact, Lois was sure she hadn’t met a less corrupted person.
She could ... easily.
So easily.
Fall ... in love ... with him.
But she must not.
He was totally the wrong guy.
Every guy had been the wrong guy, she reminded herself.
But Kal was wrong on so many levels, for reasons far more complicated than simply being an untrustworthy cad.
She could never be anything more to him than a concubine. Just the word drove tears to her eyes. Concubine. That’s what she was. And clearly, she was a particularly unattractive concubine.
He hadn’t even kissed her.
Hadn’t given the slightest indication he’d even considered her a possible lover. His intention when making her his concubine had been to bring her into his protection – not because he found her so breath-takingly beautiful he had to have her.
When she’d moved herself into his bed, he’d preferred the discomfort of the chair to sharing his bed with her.
Lois felt Kal’s fingers brush against her lower lashes, sweeping away the evidence of her heartache. He stared at the dampness on his fingers. Then he drove into eyes. “Is this good moisture or bad moisture?” he asked.
She couldn’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t understand. It would mean nothing to him ... other than to make him uncomfortable. So, she lied. “Bad,” she said. “Your smile reminded me of my family. I’m sorry I got upset.”
“So I shouldn’t do it?” he asked cautiously.
This was her chance. Her one chance to escape with her heart intact. To escape from the pain of loving him and never having her love returned. To avoid the anguish of knowing he could never be hers ... that he belonged to his wife and his people and his other concubines. This was her chance.
But Lois couldn’t take it.
She smiled, a watery smile full of her jangled emotions. “You should smile, Kal,” she said. “I like it when you smile.”
He did. He let go with a truly spectacular smile.
And Lois knew with sinking certainty that her battle was lost.
She loved Kal.
