Sorry about the one day delay -- RL but since it was writing -- I'm sure you'll forgive me. And thanks again to those who are providing me with feedback.
Now for some more exposition -- some more history -- some more angst.
From Part 11
Clark took Mayson’s hand and held it.
Mayson leaned in and kissed Clark gently on the lips.
***********
Outside in front of the Silver Unicorn, two people watched the friendly interchange between Clark and Mayson--Lex Luthor sadistically monitoring his creation from across the street behind the safety of tinted glass and Lois Lane who had just arrived on the scene.
Now for Part 12
Smallville, Kansas
Saturday,
February 5, 1994
9:30 p.m. CST
Libby Barton closed the attic door behind her. Should she call, and if so who? Rachel Harris? Martha Kent? Clark? And what should she say? Should she warn them and tell them of the danger that was now running rampant in Smallville? Would they even believe her? Would they believe that some citizens of Smallville were targets of an evil reincarnation? Did *she* even believe it?
***********
Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland
Saturday,
October 30, 1948
7:45 p.m. EST
Jason Trask turned the key in the door of the small house assigned to him and his family. After his assignment in Roswell, New Mexico, Trask had returned to Washington D.C. The newly separated service known as the United States Air Force had taken on the sole responsibility of investigating alien activity and Lieutenant Trask had been one of the first to volunteer. Joining a highly select group on August 2, 1947.
As he walked into the kitchen, Helen Trask turned to glare at her husband. “You missed dinner,” she informed him, coldly.
As Jason was about to retort, the sound of a baby crying stopped his response. “Go, take care of him,” the officer commanded and strode into the living room.
The radio was playing some music and Trask was about to walk over to turn it off when the particular song sparked a memory. The music stopped.
##### WWMD’s tenth anniversary special of Orson Welles’ Mercury Theatre presentation of “War of the Worlds” will continue after this message. #####
Helen entered the living room carrying the seven month old Jason Jr. and sat in the rocking chair as she attempted to lull the baby back to sleep.
Jason sank down onto the couch and as if paralyzed, staring off into space, he listened, transfixed back into his twelve-year old world.
##### PIERSON: Exhausted by terror, I fall asleep. . .it's morning. . .
Sun streams in the window. The black cloud of gas has lifted, and the scorched meadows to the north look as though a black snowstorm has passed over them. I venture from the house. I make my way to a road. No traffic. Here and there a wrecked car, baggage overturned, a blackened skeleton. I push on north. For some reason I feel safer trailing these monsters than running away from them. And I keep a careful watch. I have seen the Martians. . . feed. Should one of their machines appear over the top of trees, I am ready to fling myself flat on the earth. I come to a chestnut tree. October chestnuts are ripe. I fill my pockets. I must keep alive.
Finally I notice a living creature. . . a small red squirrel in a beech tree. I stare at him, and wonder. He stares back at me. I believe at that moment the animal and I shared the same emotion. . .the joy of finding another living being. I push on north. I find dead cows in a brackish field. Beyond, the charred ruins of a dairy, the silo remains standing guard over the wasteland like a lighthouse deserted by the sea. Astride the silo perches a weathercock. The arrow points north.
I come upon an undemolished house, strangely neglected by some whim of the advancing Martians. Presently, with an odd feeling of being watched, I caught sight of something crouching in the doorway. I made a step towards it, and it rose up and became a man! -- a man, armed with a large knife.
STRANGER: Stop. . . where did you come from?
PIERSON: I come from . . . many places. A long time ago from Princeton.
STRANGER: Princeton, huh? That's near Grover’s Mill!
PIERSON: Yes.
STRANGER: Grover’s Mill. . . (laughs as at a great joke.) There's no food here. This is my country. . . all this end of town down to the river. There's only food for one. . . Which way are you going?
PIERSON: I don't know. I guess I'm looking for -- for people.
STRANGER: (nervously.)What was that? Did you hear something just then?
PIERSON: Only a bird . . . A live bird!
STRANGER: You get to know that birds have shadows these days. . . Say, we're in the open here. Let's crawl into this doorway and talk.
PIERSON: Have you seen any . . . Martians?
STRANGER: Naah. They've gone over to Metropolis. At night the sky is alive with their lights. Just as if people were still livin' in it. By daylight you can't see them.
PIERSON: Then it's all over with humanity. But there's still you and I. Two of us left.
STRANGER: They wrecked the greatest country in the world. Those green stars, they're probably falling somewhere every night. They've only lost one machine. There isn't anything to do. We're done. We're licked.
PIERSON: Where were you? You're in a uniform.
STRANGER: Yeah, what's left of it. I was in the militia -- national guard. . . Wasn't any war any more than there's war between men and ants.
PIERSON: And we're eat-able ants. I found that out. . . What will they do with us?
STRANGER: I've thought it all out. They'll begin catching us systematic-like -- keeping the best and storing us in cages and things. They haven't begun on us yet!
PIERSON: Not begun!
STRANGER: Not begun! All that's happened so far is because we don't have sense enough to keep quiet. . . botherin' them with guns and such stuff and losing our heads and rushing off in crowds. Now instead of our rushing around blind we've got to fix ourselves up.
PIERSON: But if that's so, what is there to live for?
STRANGER: Well, there won't be any more concerts for a million years or so, and no nice little dinners at restaurants or theatres or art galleries. If it's amusement you're after, I guess the game's up.
PIERSON: And what is there left?
STRANGER: Life. . . that's what! I want to live. Yeah, and so do you. We're not going to be exterminated. And I don't mean to be caught, either, and tamed, and fattened, and bred, like an ox.
PIERSON: What are you going to do?
STRANGER: I'm going on. . . right under their feet. I got a plan. We men as men are finished. We don't know enough. We gotta learn plenty before we've got a chance. And we've got to live and keep free while we learn, see? I've thought it all out, see.
PIERSON: Tell me the rest.
STRANGER: We’ve got to choose the right people to start over again with.
PIERSON: You've thought it all out, haven't you?
STRANGER: I've got it all figured out. We'll live underground. I've been thinking about the sewers. Under Metropolis are miles and miles of 'em. The main ones are big enough for anybody. Then there's cellars, vaults, underground storerooms, railway tunnels, subways. You begin to see, eh? And we'll get a bunch of strong men together. No weak ones; that rubbish -- out.
PIERSON: And which am I?
STRANGER: And we've got to make safe places for us to stay in, see, and get all the books we can -- science books. That's where men like you come in, see? We'll raid the museums, we'll even spy on the Martians. It may not be so much we have to learn before -- just imagine this: four or five of their own fighting machines suddenly start off -- heat rays right and left and not a Martian in 'em. Not a Martian in 'em! But men, the right men who have learned the way how. It may even be in our time. Gee! Imagine having one of them lovely things with its heat ray wide and free! We'd turn it on Martians, we'd turn it on men. We'd bring everybody down to their knees.
PIERSON: That's your plan?
STRANGER: You, and me, and a few more of us we'd own the world.
PIERSON: I see. . .
STRANGER: Say, what's the matter? . . . Where are you going?
PIERSON: Not to your world. . . Goodbye, stranger. . . #####
“Jason,” Helen began. “Jason.”
Jason looked over at his wife and his son now sleeping in her lap. The future of this world had come down to a couple people--those who saw the danger--those who knew that the earth was a target, a target to be constantly defended against enemies from beyond.
Helen stared at her husband and then looked down at her sleeping son. She was beginning to be frightened.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Saturday,
February 5, 1994
9:35 p.m. CST
Libby Barton was frightened. Someone had the book--a someone who used it to resurrect Lex Luthor. She made her way slowly down the stairs to the living room. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Was Richard Thurston really Lex Luthor? Was he connected with the strange, bizarre deaths that had been plaguing Smallville of late? Or had Libby’s morbid sense of the macabre fueled by years of guilt, isolation and despair created a need to see villains around every corner. She walked over to the radio and stroked the antique--to see Martians where there were none.
***********
***********
Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland
Saturday,
October 30, 1948
7:50 p.m. EST
##### PIERSON: After parting with the artilleryman, I came at last to Metropolis. I reached Fourteenth Street, and there again were black powder and several bodies, and an evil ominous smell from the gratings of the cellars of some of the buildings. I wandered up through the Thirties and Forties; I stood alone on Daily Planet Square.
I walked up forty-second street, past the Capitol Theatre, silent, dark -- I watched a flock of black birds circling in the sky. I hurried on. Suddenly I caught sight of the hood of a Martian machine, standing somewhere in Centennial Park, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. An insane idea! I rushed recklessly across the street and into the Park. I climbed a small hill above the pond at fiftieth Street. From there I could see, standing in a silent row, nineteen of those great metal Titans, their cowls empty, their great steel arms hanging listlessly by their sides. I looked in vain for the monsters that inhabit those machines.
Suddenly, my eyes were attracted to the immense flock of black birds that hovered directly below me. They circled to the ground, and there before my eyes, stark and silent, lay the Martians, with the hungry birds pecking and tearing brown shreds of flesh from their dead bodies.
Later when their bodies were examined in the laboratories, it was found that they were killed by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared. . . slain, after all man's defenses had failed, by the humblest thing that God in His wisdom put upon this earth.
Before the cylinder fell there was a general persuasion that through all the deep of space no life existed beyond the petty surface of our minute sphere. Now we see further. Dim and wonderful is the vision I have conjured up in my mind of life spreading slowly from this little seedbed of the solar system throughout the inanimate vastness of sidereal space. But that is a remote dream. It may be that the destruction of the Martians is only a reprieve. To them, and not to us, is the future ordained perhaps. ######
<A reprieve,> Jason thought. <Right! Although only a radio drama, it foretold his future, his ultimate destiny.>
###### PIERSON: Strange it now seems to sit in my peaceful study at Princeton writing down this last chapter of the record begun at a deserted farm in Grover’s Mill. Strange to see from my window the university spires dim and blue through an April haze. Strange to watch children playing in the streets. Strange to see young people strolling on the green, where the new spring grass heals the last black scars of a bruised earth. Strange to watch the sightseers enter the museum where the dissembled parts of a Martian machine are kept on public view. Strange when I recall the time when I first saw it, bright and clean-cut, hard, and silent, under the dawn of that last great day. ######
As the music faded in and then out, Jason rose and turned off the radio. He knew that truths were intertwined with the fiction presented by the Mercury Theatre. Lieutenant Trask had himself seen the cylinder from Roswell, New Mexico, now hidden safely away by the military. He knew that it was his job to insure the safety of the planet--his job to guard and watch.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Saturday,
February 5, 1994
9:30 p.m. CST
Tears came to Lois’ eyes as she sat in her car directly in front of the window displaying the two. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Clark wasn’t like that. He wasn’t. She knew him. At least she thought she did. She knew that Clark had had a life before he met her and that Mayson had been part of that life. But she and Clark were engaged. She looked back as Clark put his arm around Mayson comforting her.
No, no, not Clark--never Clark. But the Lois Lane jinx--that could not be denied. It wasn’t him. It was her. Lois closed her eyes as the old fears came bombarding back upon her--smothering her.
She could hardly breathe while the nightmare unfolded in front of her. Lois shivered as the bitter cold enclosed her and she felt a knot growing in her stomach. There they were--the all too familiar feelings back to haunt her. The memories too strong and overwhelming to push back to where they should be--hidden, shrouded beneath her facade of capable not easily bruised invulnerability. It was Superman who was invulnerable, not her. She could be hurt, hurt deeply.
What had she done to cause them all to desert her? They had all left her--her father, boyfriends in high school and college and then Claude. But Clark she believed had been different. Clark would never... But she should have known better than that--she should have known that Lois Lane was never destined to have that kind of happiness. She watched immobilized as Mayson put her hand on Clark’s chest and moved closer to him.
Lois gathered what strength she had left and pressed the accelerator. The car seemed to drive itself back to her house and she tumbled out and somehow managed to make her way to the bed and throw herself on it sobbing.
***********
“You can tell me.” Clark told Mayson.
“Lex,” Mayson began. “Lex...
“Make that louder,” one of the bar’s customers yelled, as he pointed to the Television.
Sharon Brady, part-time waitress, complied as the attention of all of the bar’s patrons were drawn to the news of a train derailment taking place less than 30 miles from Smallville. As some toxic chemicals were being hauled, the TV announcer was informing the public about possible evacuation of the public within a 50-mile radius.
“I’ve got to go, Mayson,” Clark told her. I’ll call you.
Mayson watched as Clark ran out of the bar and around the corner.
Her eyes were drawn back to the television when she heard the positive shouts of the patrons as Superman zoomed onto the scene and carried off several tanker cars.
Mayson slowly walked out of the Silver Unicorn just in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure leaning against the door of a car. The man looked over at Mayson and his look was one of defiance--try to stop me, it seemed to say. The face was different--but the demeanor. She hurried away. Nigel had been right. Lex was not dead.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Sunday,
February 6, 1994
3:10 p.m.
After completing the St. John autopsy, Gretchen smiled again. As far as everyone was concerned, Lex Luthor was dead and no one would connect Lex or any one person to the death of the man lying in front of her or of the deaths of Bill Saxon, Judge LeVine, or Vivian Cox. And with her help, Baines and Friskin could not be linked to anyone working on resurrection as well.
Sheldon Bender’s death had to be declared a homicide, but it was the only one among all the deaths. But it would go unnoticed as part of a pattern, even though Rachel Harris was investigating. An inept and understaffed little sheriff’s office would never be able to uncover anything.
Dr. Kelly picked up the small book again. She ran her thumb over the embossed initials on the front of the cover--L.B. Resurrection was working and she had nothing to worry about. Her life was about to change and she would have everything she wanted, especially Lex.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Monday,
July 14, 1952
8:30 p.m. CDT
Libby Barton, aged 26, may finally have what she wanted. Joe Clark had discovered the contract Libby’s grandfather had with Kesselring Chemical, a company interested in hair restoring. The company had purchased the rights to the ancient snake oil remedy and promised a yearly income to Laslo Barton or his descendents. The amount wasn’t earth shattering, but it was enough to support Libby conservatively for the rest of her life. There was a sufficient amount in the account, given that Libby hadn’t withdrawn anything for fourteen years, to pay the back taxes, fix up the Maple Street house and get Libby some things she needed.
With the Clark’s help, Miss Libby moved into the Barton house. The house was painted, the shutters fixed, and a new roof put in place.
On this evening, Libby had invited Theresa, Joe and Martha Clark over for dinner. “Imagine,” Libby said out loud. “Dinner guests in this house.”
After dinner, Libby escorted her company into the living room. She turned on the old Philco radio and asked the three to sit down. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked Theresa and Joe. “And how about some cookies, Martha?”
“Yes, cookies,” the young girl told Libby after her parents had nodded in response to coffee.
Music emanated from the radio and Martha got up to dance around. Libby looked at her young friend. Was it fourteen years ago when she was a naïve, happy young girl of twelve as Martha was now, dancing around that same living room.
###### KSML ANNOUNCER: This is KSML the voice of Smallville, Kansas with a special report. Newport News, Va. 7:10 EDT, a southbound Pan American Airways plane at 8,000 ft. nearing the Norfolk, Virginia, area observed six glowing red, circular objects approaching below the airliner; objects flipped up on edge in unison and then sped from behind and under the airliner and joined the in-line formation, which according to a crew member, "climbed in a graceful arc above the altitude of the airliner." Another member of the crew, stated that "the lights blinked out one by one, though not in sequence." The crew is being thoroughly interrogated by an Air Force team of investigators.
Several similar events have been reported in the last few days all over the Washington, D.C. area, said an undisclosed source. ######
Libby Barton sank down on the couch. “Please leave,” she told her guests. “It may be starting again.”
“What’s wrong,” Martha asked her friend, as her parents encouraged her to walk out the door.
“Libby just needs to be alone, now,” Martha’s father told her, turning to look back at the dejected young woman rocking back and forth on the couch.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Sunday,
February 6, 1994
3:10 p.m. CST
Martha Kent walked out into the darkened auditorium after following Libby’s flight from the practice room. The ghost light, a theatre light that illuminated the stage just enough to prevent accidents, shone out as a small beacon of comfort. As soon as Martha’s eyes adjusted to the modest amount of light, she saw Libby Barton sitting in the aisle seat of the very first row.
Martha walked down the steps from the stage and sat down beside Miss Libby and took her hand.
“I thought I could do this, Martha,” Libby Barton began. “I thought I could finally face the world and battle those...those...de...demons of so long ago,” she stammered and began to cry.
“Shhhh,” Martha said softly. “You don’t have to explain.”
“Yes I do, Martha. My...my family were...are monsters--all of us. We k...killed... kill people.”
***********
Richard turned to the other cast members in the rehearsal room who were waiting for Martha and Miss Libby to return. “I need to make a phone call,” he explained. “Let Mrs. Kent know that I should be back soon for our scene,” he said smiling over at Lois.
***********
Gretchen flipped through the pages of the diary in her hand. The yellowed sheaves highlighted years of experimentation, years of frustration and years of murders. It told the gothic tale of a man’s desperation to resurrect his lost love. And when that quest became unattainable, it chronicled his fall from grace--his decline into depravity and madness.
The scrawl became harder and harder to read as Laslo Barton found himself further and further from reality.
But then suddenly in February of 1927, the scrawl changed into the broad, strong strokes of determination as another Barton took over the journal entries and carried on the work of her father. Leticia Barton became the resurrector--the giver *and* the taker of life. Gretchen placed the book into the pocket of her lab coat and patted it.
Dr. Kelly walked over to the radio-electron microscope. She had been having problems with it for a couple of days. Gretchen smiled again as she fiddled with the microscopes wiring and thought about meeting Lex much later that night.
The phone rang and the coroner picked up the receiver. “Yes, Lex,” she said. "Of course I love you and no, I can't meet you earlier. I'm still in the lab and just as I told you I need to fix the...."
All of a sudden as she turned the knob on the microscope with her free hand, the sprinkler over her head burst and a flood of water started to cascade down. In recoiling from the drench, Gretchen touched the exposed ends of the wires she had been working on while the water splashed over her. A surge of electricity coursed through her and as sparks arced through the ends of her hair, Gretchen keeled over dead, the phone receiver dropping to the table and the book in her pocket igniting.
***********
Clark watched Richard leave the room. He still couldn’t pin point the gut feeling he had about that man. Clark looked at Lois whose eyes darted right back to her scrip. He was surprised by her coldness. Had he done something? Well, he hadn’t returned to Lois’ after his visit with Mayson and his subsequent call to help with the train derailment. That job took quite a while as he helped clean up the area and get people to a variety of hospitals. Clark had assumed it would be too late and that he would talk to Lois in the morning.
When Sunday morning came, Superman’s services were once more required. He had left a message on Lois’ machine telling her about an earthquake in India, another task that necessitated hours of work.
Maybe it was the strange happenings in and around the play and in Smallville that Lois was concerned about. The rash of deaths were having their toll on everyone. At least the most recent calls for help had been outside of Smallville. At least... Clark turned his head. Another call.
“I’ll be right back,” he told those assembled. I’ll see if Mom and Miss Libby need anything,” he explained as he left the room bumping into Richard who was returning with a smile on his face.
The two men regarded each other coolly and then Clark remembering the urgent sound he had heard ran off down the hall.
***********
Superman arrived at the coroner’s office, just as the fire department pulled up. Both they and Superman had heard the fire alarm go off.
“Superman,” the fire chief exclaimed. “We meet again. There was no fire, apparently, but the alarm caused a sprinkler to open and as there were exposed wires in the lab, Dr. Kelly was electrocuted. There’s nothing you can do.”
Superman entered the lab and looked around. He flew up and examined the sprinkler. It didn’t look as if it had been tampered with. But something was wrong. There had been too many “accidents” of late. He noticed a piece of paper in the wastebasket--a paper torn into many fragments. He picked up the minute pieces and using super speed, put them together. “Resurrection,” he said out loud.
***********
“Resurrection,” Libby Barton said aloud.
“Resurrection?” Martha Kent repeated.
“My grandfather thought he was God. He believed he had power over life and death. He brought monsters into the world. I was one of those monsters.”
“No, no, no, Libby.” Martha implored. “You’re not a monster.”
“We killed people,” Libby repeated.
“You never did,” Martha told her. “I’ve always known you never killed anyone.”
Libby Barton looked over at Martha. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “Martha,” she said finally.”
“It’s all right,” Martha told her.
<No it’s not>, Libby thought, her eyes looking off into space. <I killed him>.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Wednesday,
May 18, 1966
7:45 p.m. CDT
Libby Barton held the globe in her hand as she sat in her living room. The colored sphere was part of that space ship, the one that brought the baby to earth. This time it wasn’t a hoax, this time it wasn’t someone else telling her that Martians had invaded, or flying saucers had come to rest on a farm, or UFO’s were visible overhead. This time, Libby Barton had finally seen it herself.
The globe vibrated slightly and then fell silent. What should she do with it? The entire town already thought she was crazy, but she had Martha and Jonathan Kent to back her up. But would they? They had carried the baby to safety and an entire day had gone by without them sharing the event with the world. Libby knew that Martha had wanted a baby of her own and this might be her only chance.
Libby heard some scuffling and then there was a knock on her door. She quickly secreted the globe into the window seat and opened the front door. Standing in front of her was Jason Trask Sr.
tbc
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