Clark awoke to find himself laying on a cold stone floor. His head throbbed. Gingerly, he sat up. The movement brought a fresh explosion of pain in his head. For a moment, it threatened to make him black out again. Determinedly, he fought to stay conscious. Nausea roiled in his stomach. It was an effort not to vomit. His vision swam in and out of focus. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes again. His vision was improved. He reached his hands to the back of his head and was mildly surprised when he did not feel any blood. It was an awkward maneuver, as Clark's hands and feet were bound with lengths of heavy chain. Dimly, he wondered why chains and not the energy fueled bonds that he'd seen used on Nor's renegades.
He looked around the room he found himself in. It was carved out of solid stone, like that of the palace, but of a dull, pale gray color. The walls, floor, and ceiling were roughly hewn and he could see not a single joint or crack. It seemed to be all of one giant carved slab of rock. He was locked in a cage, the bars of some unknown metal. He'd seen every type of metal on Earth and a few types in space as he'd moved asteroids. This was unlike any that he'd ever come across. It was jet black and seemed almost to swallow up whatever light touched it. Beyond the bars were a couple of blank video screens on the far walls. Three men stood watching him. Jen Mai was one of them.
"Good morning, Lord Kal-El," said the one with the shoulder length, blonde hair. "How are you finding your accommodations?" The voice dripped with mockery.
"Who are you? Where am I? What happened to my troops?" Clark demanded as he struggled to his feet. He gripped the cell bars to steady himself.
Jen Mai approached the bars, reached in, and backhanded Clark across the mouth. Blood gushed from his lips as they torn on the studs of the gloves that Jen Mai wore.
"You will speak to Lord Nor Zod with respect," he sneered.
"Lord Nor?" Understanding crept into Clark's mind, dispelling the lingering haze in his mind. "I always knew there was something not quite right about you, Jen Mai. When the Council finally catches up to you, I swear I will make you pay for your attacks on the people. All of you."
"The Council will soon be mine to control," Lord Nor said. "You are going to ensure that that happens."
"What do you mean?" Strength rang in Clark's voice as he recovered from the blow to his head.
"I mean that unless the Council gives me what I want, you will die."
"What did you do to my men out there?" Clark demanded. Fire burned in his eyes.
"They are dead. Well, all but one who will deliver my message to the Council."
Clark hung his head as guilt flooded his heart.
I was the one to agree to follow Jen Mai. I should have trusted my gut instinct to not trust the Elder. The men who died...their blood is on my hands. They died following my lead. They died defending me.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, some of his fire still searing his words.
"Everything. Your wife. Your throne. Your life."
"You know that I'll never give you that, Nor."
Lord Nor tossed his head back and laughed. "You are hardly in a position to refuse me. Besides, I don't need you to give me what I want."
"The Council will never bow to you."
Nor gave him an amused glance. "Oh but they will. When they do, you will be my slave. And when I get bored of that, you will die. A fitting end for the last son of the House of El." A low beeping rang out in the darkness behind Clark's captors. "Ah, that will be the Council now. General, switch on the screens."
The video screens behind Nor flickered into life. The men turned to look at them. Clark could see a panorama of the Council of Elders. His heart sank when he did not see Ching. He hoped that Ching had escaped. He'd become fast friends with the man. And more importantly, Zara loved him.
He isn't an Elder, Clark reasoned to himself. Even if he did survive the attack, he wouldn't necessarily be present for this...meeting.
"Brothers in bonds, I greet thee thrice," Nor said, arms outstretched, palms up. There was a hint of mockery to his tone.
"Lord Nor, what is the meaning of this?" Trey asked. "You openly attack our people. You murder our troops. And now you wish to...bargain?"
"I'll put it to you simply," Nor replied. "I have the Lord Kal-El. I demand that the Council strip him of his title, his throne, and his marriage to Lady Zara. I will then take over as King and husband. In exchange, I will stop my attacks on the city and allow Kal-El to live."
"You're mad!" Trey exclaimed, horror painting his features.
"General Zod!" Nor said. "Bring the prisoner here. Let us prove to these distinguished men that we do indeed have their precious lord."
Clark's cell door opened as General Zod stepped in. He was a tall, solid man with a stern expression and a close cropped, receding hair line. A series of scars marred the man's face, including one deep, long, white, puckered scar over his left eye. It was amazing that the man could see out of it. Clark saw in the man's eyes that murder came easily to him. He tried to shrink away. General Zod grabbed Clark's collar and roughly shoved him out of the cell to stand before the video screens. The sheer brute strength of the General astounded Clark. He held his head high, putting on as regal an act as he could. Murmurs of shock rippled through the Council of Elders as they watched on their video screens.
"Release him at once!" cried a white-haired Elder.
"Rest assured that no harm will come to Kal-El...yet," Nor assured them. "That is, provided that you give me what I want."
"Don't," Clark called out. "He'll destroy New Krypton if he rules. My life isn't worth the lives of hundreds."
General Zod cracked Clark across the mouth with his free hand. "Silence!"
"We will never bow to you, Lord Nor," another Elder said.
"Oh please," Nor said with false sympathy. "I'll tell you what. It's a big decision. I'll contact you at this same time in...oh, another week. If you still refuse, I will hurt your beloved son of Jor-El."
The video screen clicked off. General Zod shoved Clark back into his cell, pushing him roughly into the far wall. He punched Clark in the stomach for good measure. Clark staggered and regained his balance.
"We should just kill him now," the General said, his voice like the grating of gravel.
Nor shook his head. "No. He's better leverage left alive. Besides, if we kill him now, it'll just make him a martyr. Already the people are abuzz with how great a leader he is. He's already won the hearts of this planet. Continue your attacks on the city. Make it known that Lord Kal-El and the Council have refused to listen to reason and that their refusal is to blame for every toppled building and every death."
General Zod bowed and left the room. Clark followed his retreat as he mounted the steps.
I must be underground, he thought. He's going up the stairs to reach the ground floor.
He frowned. It wasn't much of a lead to go on. And it certainly didn't do him much good locked up as he was. But he also knew that even the slightest bit of knowledge could only aid him if an opportunity ever arose to make a desperate escape plan. Nor studied him for a moment, then pushed a button on the wall. The button turned from green to red.
Clark tried to reach out his thoughts to Trey but found his thoughts blocked, as thoroughly as a wall of lead blocked his X-ray vision. He wondered briefly if lead had the same effects on New Krypton. There was no way to tell since all of his powers were gone.
"Don't bother trying to call for help. This bunker is shielded. No one can hear your screams. No one can hear your thoughts. Enjoy your stay."
He laughed as he exited the room, Jen Mai in his wake.
Clark sighed and slumped to the floor. His cell was completely barren. Not even a bench or a chamber pot broke up the emptiness. At least his shackles weren't attached to the wall, though he saw sturdy rings embedded into the stone. It, like the chains he wore, were of the same dense metal as the cell bars. Clark had been in prison many times before. Usually he was dropping off criminals as Superman. Sometimes, he visited inmates as Clark, following leads on the stories that he and Lois were chasing. Once, he'd even been in prison as an inmate, back when Metropolis had thought that Superman was responsible for the freak heat wave. But in all of those situations, even in his blackest hour of despair when he too thought that Superman was responsible for the heat, he'd never once felt so powerless. He'd never once been scared. Now he was terrified. Terrified that the Elders might give in to Nor's demands. Terrified that they wouldn't. He didn't want to see New Krypton under the rule of a madman. But he certainly didn't want to die either.
If it comes down to it, I would rather see hundreds saved than my own life, he thought to himself. Lois, forgive me. I'll do whatever I can to bring about peace and return home. But I don't know if I will be able to.
He pulled the gold chain out from under his suit and studied Lois' wedding ring, just as he had every night since he'd left Earth. He brought it to his lips and kissed it lightly, symbolically kissing Lois in the action. He pictured her in his mind's eye. Memories swept him. This time, he could see her at the Smallville Corn Festival when they'd been trying to help Wayne Irig. He could clearly see her in the country dress that she'd bought at the fair, knowing that he would get a kick out of seeing her in it. He could almost feel her in his arms as they'd danced.
He sighed and replaced the ring beneath his suit once more. He had to keep it hidden from Nor. He couldn't bear to be parted with that small piece of home. That one tangible memory of Lois. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the cold stone. His mind turned to the button that Nor had pressed.
Must activate the shielding that Nor spoke of. Red must mean that the shield is up. Green must mean that it's off. But why would he risk turning it on and off? Unless...maybe he needs to take the shielding down to transmit from the video screens? I'll have to try it next time he and the Elders speak.
A tiny spark of hope bloomed in his heart only to quickly be extinguished as he realized that it would be another week before Nor planned on contacting the Elders. A shiver of fear rocked him as he wondered what that week would bring.
All sense of time was lost in the eternal night of the underground room. Not a single window was to be seen. There was no hint of sunlight or starlight. Time was marked only by the irregular intervals when Jen Mai brought him food. Mostly, it consisted of a thin soup, a crust of bread, and lukewarm water. For Clark's high Kryptonian metabolism, it was barely enough to survive on. Pounds slipped from his body. He grew weaker.
The week crawled by. Sometimes, Clark was left in utter darkness, the control panel for the video screens and shielding the only lights to be seen in the pitch black. They were the only way he could tell if his eyes were open or not most of the time. Sometimes, the lights were left on, harsh and glaring.
At last, the day came when Lord Nor appeared before his cell again. He pressed the red button. It turned green and he turned the video screens on. Before Clark could gather his thoughts to send a message to Trey, General Zod forced him to leave the cell to stand before the monitors. A swift punch to his gut shattered Clark's concentration. The General smiled cruelly at him and pushed him to his knees.
"Don't get any ideas, hero," he spat.
Lord Nor greeted the Elders once more. "Well, let's cut straight to the chase, shall we? What have you decided?"
"We utterly reject your demands," Trey said.
Nor sighed in impatience. "Very well. I will give you more time. This time, I will not be so kind to Kal-El. General!"
General Zod produced a dagger from a sheath on his belt. He slashed Clark across his right cheek. Blood poured from the wound and Clark grunted in pain before he could stop himself. A cry of rage erupted from the Council of Elders.
"Stop at once!" they demanded.
"I will stop when my demands are met," Nor said coldly.
"Don't give in," Clark commanded through gritted teeth.
"Another outburst from him and you may cut out his tongue, General," Nor said with a deadly calm voice.
Clark clenched his jaw, the muscles straining. Anger burned in his eyes. He gazed intently at the video monitors, hoping that his expression got his message across. He saw the Elders shaking their heads. He saw the fear on their faces.
"Think well on your decision, gentlemen," Nor instructed. "And know that Kal-El will suffer until you agree to my demands."
The screens clicked off again and the shielding was switched on. Clark was put back in his cell. This time, the General and Nor shut themselves in with him. General Zod pushed Clark into the wall, his dagger still held in his hand. He brought it to Clark's throat and quickly slashed downwards. The finely honed edge sliced through his black suit with ease. He was stripped to the waist, the dagger cutting away the fabric from his body in ragged chunks.
"Can't have blood on your fine clothing, my lord," Nor sneered at him. Twisted amusement glinted in his eyes. "Take the rest," he said, addressing his General.
General Zod nodded grimly. The rest of Clark's clothing was cut from his body. Nor reached out to the golden ring that hung about Clark's neck. He twisted the chain around his hand once and yanked. The slender chain snapped. Nor examined the ring in his hand.
"What have we here?" He looked at Clark. "Speak!"
"It's nothing that concerns you," Clark growled.
Nor snorted a laugh. "A trinket from Earth perhaps? A memento to remember your former world by? Well, you won't be needing this. You will never see that planet again."
He slipped the ring and broken chain into his pocket. Clark made a move towards Nor to try and grab the ring back. General Zod stopped his movement with a blow to the head. Clark slumped over, dazed but conscious.
"It means nothing to you," he said quietly.
"That is where you are wrong," Nor said, squatting and bringing his face close to Clark's. "It means something to you. Therefore, it means that I am very interested in it."
Nor stood and appraised Clark. The General had a booted foot on Clark's chest, pinning him down against the uneven wall.
"Teach this mongrel a lesson," he told the man. "And don't spare your arm."
