Rac, I love how we look at Clark through Talan's eyes:
Kal El straightened, still looking out at the desert. Physically, he seemed strong, healthy again; his frame was well muscled and no longer bent by injuries. All signs of weakness or frailty were gone. He bore no resemblance to the emaciated and half dead figure that she and Ching had dragged out of that dungeon. But not all the damage had been physical, and new emotional wounds had been layered on top of the older ones that had yet to heal.
Talan's considers Clark's physical and emotional state.
"Now my curiosity is piqued," she heard herself say, her words and her tone befitting a conversation between friends, not an officer and her commander. She wondered if she should try to take the comment back. Was there a gracious way out of this?
Talan finds herself talking to Kal-El as if he was her friend, not her commander, and she wonders if she can take her words back.
He turned and gave her a brief smile.
But Kal-El is not offended...
...and he begins to tell her about himself.
"Earth, my planet, has a yellow sun," he began cryptically. She tried in vain to figure out where he was going with this. "It has a really…strange affect on Kryptonians. They didn't start to appear until I was about eight or nine years old. I was faster than other kids, and stronger. I never got hurt, or sick. I became invulnerable and by the time I was eighteen, I could fly."
He tells her he could fly? Is he joking?
She listened to the words in disbelief. Despite his melancholy, he had a richer and deeper sense of humor than anyone she knew
Talan knows that Clark has a wonderful sense of humour, in spite of the fact that he is full of sadness, too.
but it didn't seem like he was joking with her. His tone was too earnest, too wistful, like he desperately missed what he was describing.
Kal-El is letting Talan see how much he misses and longs for his amazing abilities.
"It was one of the most incredible feelings in the world," he said, his voice a fervent whisper. "I could go anywhere I wanted. Gravity had no power over me. It was amazing."
His voice a fervent whisper... he talks about his powers as if they were an amazing gift, not something he naturally deserved, and not something that made him a - well, a "superman" in Nietche's sense.
He clearly was not joking. The memories affected him so thoroughly. His warm smile died and the light in his eyes faded. "It also made me feel so alone. At the time, I had no idea where I'd come from, why I was sent there, or why I was so different. I lived an ordinary life, hiding what I could do from everyone except my parents."
His warm smile died. His powers made him so alone.
She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, wondering how there could have been so much that she never knew about him.
And Talan is mesmerized by him.
"I believe you, sir," she corrected him quickly. "But I can scarcely imagine it. The thought of a man flying, being invulnerable…and how strong exactly were you?"
"I lifted a spacecraft into orbit once," he replied simply.
"A spacecraft? With your hands?"
How strong were you? I can't help it, this reminds me of the question that Margot Kidder's Lois asked Chris Reeve's Superman: "How big are you? I mean, how tall are you?"
When Lois asked that question, she was besotted with Superman. Talan's question is a lot more... well, exact, perhaps even scientific. Even so, I wonder about her feelings for him.
"I should have known not to be surprised by you," she replied. Somehow the unbelievable life he was describing made him make more sense. His need to help, his strength, his courage, his compassion, and his grace all fit in perfectly to the life and the world he spoke of.
All his wonderful qualities make more sense and become even more wonderful.
"What about you? What's the hardest rescue you ever made?" he asked.
She bit her lip and frowned, deep in thought. "I had to deliver a baby once."
Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at him. He was trying, and failing, to fight off a smile. His shoulders started to shake as he began to chuckle. Soon, he was laughing out loud. Talan turned toward him. He was laughing at her? She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly indignant, she couldn't think of a thing to say. "I'm entirely serious," she said at last.
But... he is laughing at her?
"I'm sorry," he said, still laughing, but fighting to stop. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "It's just that, you're fearless and invincible. You do the impossible like it's nothing, so I have a tough time seeing a baby as your most formidable opponent. I mean, they kind of manage to get born all on their own."
No, he isn't laughing
at her, not like that. It's his wonderful warmth and humour that makes him laugh - laugh not at her, but at the idea that she could be threatened by a baby.
"I know," she admitted, smiling despite herself. "But I had no idea what I was doing. It's not as though I could give orders to a woman in labor or to the baby, for that matter. I was quite a bit outside of my area of expertise."
"But everyone was all right?"
She nodded slightly, still smiling. "Everyone was all right," she confirmed.
And suddenly Talan herself seems to be able to look back on her ordeal with a lot more pride and joy than before.
"Have you ever had to deliver a baby?"
"Seventeen of them," he replied.
"Seventeen?"
And just imagine that Talan had been - well, not trying to impress Kal-El, but still... she thought she had something unusual and frightening to tell him. But he has done what she has done, only seventeen times over.
"Usually it was just easier to pick the mother up and fly her to the hospital," he explained casually, as though carrying a woman in labor while he flew through the air was a normal thing to do. "But sometimes I'd get there and the mother would be too far along for me to move her. So I'd have to deliver the baby right where we were." He smiled, but there was no hint of sadness in his eyes this time. It was like the burden of his grief was forgotten, even if only for a moment.
Whether Talan realizes it or not, she can see how much joy each of these seventeen babies brought Kal-El. He is a commander, a warrior, a potential bringer of death, who rejoices more than anything in the celebration of life, and in the delivery of new life into the world.
She'd thought his personality magnetic as a leader; he demonstrated courage and compassion that drew people instinctively to him. But that was only a small part of who he was, she realized. His warmth, his kindness, and his gentle humor were things he was rarely able to reveal here.
And Talan marvels at the kind and gentle wonder that is Kal-El. What does it do to Talan, fair and fearless warrior, to see for herself such wonderful qualities and emotions in a beautiful man?
These weren't the grand emotions that inspired sacrifice and loyalty and the things that changed the course of a people's history. These were the simple emotions of everyday life. The ones that shaped and changed a person forever. The ones that grew into more than just respect and admiration. The ones that…
He sighed quietly, but the sound startled her. Still smiling slightly, he asked, "you ready to go back?"
"I'm ready if you are, sir," she replied.
What was Talan's thinking when Clark startled her with his quiet sigh? It seems to me that she is falling in love with him. And no wonder. I'm curious about where you will be taking this. Talan seems to be falling in love with Clark, and Clark can't help but be impressed by Talan. Will they have an affair? Given their circumstances, I can't blame them if they do. I still hope that won't happen, though.
Later, only hours before she is going to launch a new offensive against Lord Nor, Talan dreams of murdering Nor, of exacting revenge on him. It was a frightening, upsetting dream. I hope Talan will not give in to her more primitive wishes to do to the bully what he did to others, even though I can't blame Talan for harbouring such feelings.
Back on the Earth, diplomats are bickering about General Rapin's decision to violate the letter of his mandate so that he could uphold the spirit of it - that is, so that he could protect the people whose safety was his to protect. And the supporters of Rapin win, becasue the Chinese representative is the only one who wants Rapin punished:
"I will not commit to anything," Lin replied stubbornly, but leaving himself an exit to retreat from his recalcitrant position in the future.
"Of course, it is too early," the French ambassador said, his tone conciliatory.
"Well, this has been a productive discussion," Sir Walter said. "I think we've made real progress. Ambassador Dalton, I trust you'll communicate our current thinking to General Rapin."
"Of course," Dalton replied. "Thank you all." With that, he jabbed the button on the phone to end the call. He looked at her with a slight smile on his face. "We're getting there," he said.
I loved this description of real-life diplomacy. This is the way to get things done in the real world, in my opinion.
Meanwhile, overcome with guilt at his failure to stop the murdering of over a thousand people, Clark turns to Zara for support:
Zara was standing in front of him again, obviously ignorant of his wish. She took both of his hands in her smaller ones. "You are like family to me," she whispered. "Please let me help you the way you've helped me."
He closed his eyes, fighting tears once again, and pulled her into his arms. "This is my fault," he said under his breath.
Zara holds Clark and embraces him. Once again there is this feeling that strong and decent Kryptonian women can't help but respond to somebody as strong and decent and kind and gentle as Clark. And I'm wondering what it will lead to.
Clark finds out that Alon is the likely traitor, and Talan almost captures Nor, only to have to race back to help her own troops, who are under attack.
I used to think that the "Krypton parts" of this story were a bit uninteresting, Rac, but you have certainly made me change my mind.
And I almost can't believe what you said in the thread commenting on the previous part: that what you are writing is actually a trilogy, and in spite of the huge amount of narrative you have already produced, you may be only about halfway through this mighty trilogy.
Ann
