It seemed that Klein was finished talking to them – his body was in the room with them but his mind was somewhere else completely. Maybe even another planet.
Lois knew he was a busy man and didn’t need her and Clark taking up more of his valuable time. He’d already mentally dismissed them. She headed for the door then turned back, almost running in to Clark, as she remembered another question.
“Doctor Klein,” Lois said. “You said that Mamba was using Superman’s energy thingees…”
“Organelles,” Clark corrected.
She glared at him then continued, “…organelles in creating his long-lived clones. What would keep them from developing his powers as well?”
It took a moment for Klein to respond. He was obviously very far away – instead of another planet, make that another galaxy.
Then he frowned in thought. “Mamba’s notes weren’t as specific as they could have been but based on his notes and what I know about Superman’s powers… The enhanced physical and sensory abilities require a far larger number of the power organelles than would be needed to simply stabilize the hyper fast cellular division required to bring a clone to maturity in only a few days. I also think that developing and controlling the powers requires more than just the special organelles. It requires specific Kryptonian genes and specific variations in the mitochondria.”
“Then how did Jesse Stipanovic acquire Superman-like powers if it requires special mitochondria and organelles?” Clark asked.
“And Ultrawoman and Resplendent Man?” Lois chimed in.
“The incident with the Stipanovic boy indicated that Superman’s bioelectric field could be transferred by a strong enough electric charge and the field would be self-sustaining, at least on the short term, even without the transfer of the organelles,” Klein said. “And physical contact between Superman and the other person during or shortly after the transfer, well, that allowed organelles to be transferred as well, making the field longer lasting. But with the Stipanovic boy the DNA changes were unstable and the organelles appeared to go dormant when the DNA reverted to human normal… Does that make sense in English?”
“Yes, I think so,” Clark said. “The power transfers were strictly temporary because it requires multiple systems to maintain.”
“Which was probably a good thing,” Lois added, “considering the type of people who wanted to steal his powers.”
“Ultrawoman?” Klein asked.
“He lucked out on that one,” Clark said. “Do you know how many of the type A’s Mamba created?”
“His notes weren’t clear, but I suspect he wasn't as successful as he told potential clients he was.”
“So we’re his only successes?” Lois asked.
Klein nodded. “That we know of. Out of all the canisters we found in his lab, only two had viable type A embryos in them. And they both carried both the power organelles and Kryptonian DNA in their cells.”
“Will they – we – develop powers like Superman?” Clark asked.
Klein shrugged. “Based on Mamba’s notes, his key client wanted the male to have powers, although I will give Mamba a little credit for not thinking it was a good idea.”
“But Mamba went ahead and gave the male powers anyway?” Lois asked.
“So it would appear. But it looks like the female has the same number of organelles in her cells.”
“So, why aren’t I showing any signs of having powers?” Clark asked. Lois could tell he was annoyed and frustrated with the whole situation. But it was an annoying and frustrating situation.
“Maybe you were exposed to kryptonite,” Klein suggested, “or maybe you haven’t had enough sun, or maybe Mamba left out some crucial bit of DNA that would allow you to develop powers. I don’t know.”
“You have samples of our DNA,” Clark reminded him. “If you have time, maybe you could take a look?”
“It’ll take a little time for a full analysis,” Klein said. “And don’t worry. I’ll keep it confidential.” He gave them another appraising look and Lois wondered exactly how much of his apparent obliviousness was just an act. “Assuming Hamilton was right about the soul transfer stuff,” Klein said, “…who were you?”
Lois glanced at Clark. He nodded once. “He was Superman’s personal physician,” Clark said.
Lois took a deep breath before responding to Klein’s question. “Three days ago I was Lois Lane. And she was Clark Kent.”
“I should be surprised,” Klein said. “But I’m not. There is just something so familiar about you. We should have lunch sometime and you can tell me all about it. It sounds fascinating.”
Clark was very quiet as they made their way back to the lobby.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Lois said.
“I don’t think they’re worth that much,” Clark admitted. “I was just thinking that Luthor did it to us again. He killed Superman and commissioned a body for himself so he would be the only one with those abilities.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Lois said. “And a walk in the park to catch some rays after lunch doesn’t sound that bad. And maybe when Hamilton’s free we can ask him about that soul transference thing.”
“Pity we can’t just walk into Central Holding and talk to Asabi,” Clark said. “That is assuming he’s still there. If he really does have the abilities Hamilton told people about, then there’s no reason to believe he hasn’t escaped and some poor sap is sitting there in a cell trying to figure out what happened.”
“Maybe Henderson will let us see him,” Lois suggested. “But we haven’t had a chance to get phones yet, so I can’t just call him.”
“Another thing to add to our ever lengthening to-do list.”
Bob spotted them crossing the lobby and hurried to catch up with them. Lois asked to borrow his phone and she keyed in Henderson’s personal number from memory.
After a surprisingly short conversation she hung up. “We can see him right after lunch,” she told Clark.
“That’s a surprise,” Clark commented.
“Asabi has asked the police for protection,” she said. “He’s afraid someone wants to steal his soul. But he’s asked to talk to us.”
“Any idea why?”
Lois shook her head. “Henderson didn’t say except that we have a two o’clock appointment to talk to Asabi.”
It was just possible the answers they needed were only a few hours away. It was going to be a long time till two-o’clock.
They stopped at one of Lois’s favorite delis, Benny’s. It wasn’t far from the Daily Planet and was just across from Centennial Park. Lois sipped her iced teas and watched out the front window as trucks drove into the park laden with pre-fabricated building parts.
“Superman’s mausoleum,” the server answered when asked what was going on in the park. “Funeral’s in two days. I hear the fire and police departments have been fighting over which one will do the honors. I’ve also heard that the mayor told the president he was welcome to come to the services, but they were going to be held in Metropolis and he better not forget it.”
“President Garner’s not such a bad guy,” Clark said.
“He was replaced by a clone with the IQ of a zucchini and nobody noticed,” the server, Mario, scoffed.
Lois couldn’t help chuckling. Mario really did have the right of it. President Garner had been replaced by one of Mamba’s clones and no one really noticed until he started back-pedaling on legislation he had made campaign promises on and had worked hard and long to pass. Legislation Lois knew that Luthor had been violently opposed to. But then, Luthor had objected to any politician that couldn’t be bought and paid for. Garner may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he was one of a rare breed – an honest politician. Or maybe Luthor simply hadn’t been able to afford Garner’s price.
Luckily for Garner, Lane, Kent, and Superman had come to the president’s rescue – but not before the clone had granted Luthor’s request for his criminal convictions to be pardoned. If Luthor had been in prison where he belonged, maybe Lois and Clark would be on their honeymoon in their own bodies rather than trying to figure out what to do with new ones.
At least Bennie’s sandwiches were as good as always. Lois loved their pastrami on onion roll and she knew Clark liked their honey roasted turkey with cranberry cream sauce on sourdough. Sweet coleslaw and kosher dill pickles completed the meal. Lois adored their double chocolate cheesecake and split a piece with Clark. It was amazing how much she could taste in the cake. The chocolate, the vanilla – Bennie’s used real vanilla in their cheesecake and real chocolate – eggs, cream cheese. It was phenomenal.
“I wonder how much I’m going to have to spend at the gym to keep this from landing on my… wherever,” Lois said.
“If Klein is right, I don’t think you need to worry about the gym ever again,” Clark reminded her.
“Did their cheesecake always taste like this?”
“Yeah,” Clark said. “I don’t think they’ve changed their recipe since… ever.”
“It’s like I can taste… everything. I don’t remember things tasting like this last time… when you know…”
“Maybe you were too busy to notice,” Clark said. “It was a big responsibility put on you all of a sudden. And a lot of pressure.”
“I couldn’t just do nothing,” Lois reminded him. Lois’s stint as Ultrawoman had left her with an appreciation of Superman’s job that no one else truly shared. Helping others, when no one else could, had been exhilarating and mind-boggling. Having to choose which emergencies needed her presence had been heart rending. And failures – she had broken into tears more than once during those few days over nameless people she hadn’t been fast enough or smart enough to save. She still wasn't exactly sure how Clark survived the failures. A lesser man would have been destroyed.
But Lois didn’t remember her senses of taste, smell, and touch being as acute then as they were now. She took another bite of the cheese cake. The flavor fairly exploded in her mouth.
“When you first woke up in the hospital, how did you feel?” Lois asked.
Clark’s expression turned thoughtful. “Like everything was muffled. It’s been slowly getting more ‘normal’.”
“Maybe Klein was right and Luthor did do something to you,” Lois suggested. “I mean, he was planning on it being Lois Lane in that body. He had to have had some plan to keep her bullied into submission once the transfer was completed.”
“After everything, he didn’t believe he could get her to love him?”
“He did everything he could to keep her confused and make her think she was a hunted criminal and he was her only choice,” Lois said. “Who do you think broke into STAR Labs with him that night? And he wanted her to commit murder for him. He only did it himself when she refused.”
“I should never have let you go with him,” Clark said.
“I don’t think you had much of a choice,” Lois told him. “He was holding all the cards and was willing to kill innocent people to get what he wanted. Superman couldn’t risk endangering all of Metropolis for one person, not even me. And Luthor would have started killing. We both know that. He had his escape plan and he didn’t care who he hurt because he would never have to face the consequences of his actions.”
Clark was playing with his straw in the remaining ice in his glass.
“What’s wrong?” Lois asked.
“What happens if Asabi doesn’t have a fix for us?” Clark asked.
“He has to,” Lois said as though it was obvious.
“But if he doesn’t?”
Lois took his hands in hers. “Honey, you know how I get when I want to fix something...”
“Well, first you eat a lot of chocolate while you figure out your next move...”
Lois grinned and pointed to the empty plate of double chocolate cheesecake. There weren’t even any crumbs left.
“Check. Then you get that real determined look... Sort of like now. And then... the seas part,” he said.
“So you know the drill,” Lois said. “You and I have come through almost every conceivable disaster, usually through inconceivable means. So, obviously, if we’re going to get through this, we're gonna have to be fearless once again.”
“The only thing I've ever been afraid of is saying 'no' to you, and I'm not starting now,” Clark said softly. She suspected he was only half joking. “Do you think we have time to order some Death by Chocolate Mousse? You’re not the only one with a craving for chocolate. I never really understood your addiction to chocolate before now.”
Lois chuckled. “Food of the gods.”
There was a commotion at the front door. Bob the bodyguard had hold of Leo Nunc.
“Hey, you can’t do that,” Nunc was protesting as they hurried over. “I’m a reporter. You happen to know about a little thing called the First Amendment?”
“'Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof or abridging the freedom of speech or of the press or…'” Bob quoted.
“What about the part saying I got the right to do whatever I want 'cause I'm a reporter?” Nunk demanded.
“Luckily that part has never been written,” Clark said in a saccharinely sweet tone. It was odd hearing Clark’s familiar ‘ready to zing’ tone in a woman’s vocal register. “Mister Nunc, has it gotten boring harassing dead people who can’t defend themselves?”
Nunc didn’t answer.
“So you think following lil’ ol’ us will add a little more excitement to your life?” Clark asked.
“You’ve had a real busy morning already,” Nunc said. “The cops, Jennings, STAR Labs?”
“And you think this concerns you?” Lois asked.
“Luthor’s long lost kid is news,” Nunc said. “My readers have the right to know what he’s doing in town.”
“Well, tell your readers that Luthor’s long lost son is just trying to come to terms with the fact that dear old dad was a psycho killer,” Clark said. Then he leaned close. “Of course, if you do say anything more than that, I’m sure the Virginia police and a certain Marvin McEnry will be pleased to know the whereabouts of one Leon Nunkhammer. And I’m sure your readers will be fascinated to know their favorite reporter is a convicted sex offender who forgot to register in Metropolis.”
Nunc actually paled. “You can’t prove anything.”
Clark’s smile was positively beatific. “Can’t I?”
Nunc untangled himself from Bob’s grip. “You haven’t seen the last of me,” he said as he hurried away.
Bob seemed impressed. “I take back every stupid blonde joke I was thinking about you.”
“How did you know about Nunkhammer?” Lois asked. That bit of information had always been her ace in the hole concerning Nunc.
“Know thine enemy,” Clark said with a grin. “And as for the blonde jokes… well, the dumb blonde act worked wonders for Mindy Church. Even her stepson never quite figured out what happened. Besides, natural blondes know it’s really the peroxide that kills the brain cells.”
