Chapter Eleven
They managed to shoehorn themselves into all their classes. Lana’s brief notoriety actually turned out to be a help. When other students – particularly underclassmen – saw her coming, they’d allow her to cut in front of them. At first she was bothered by the attention, but as the afternoon wore on and her feet got more tired she thanked them more sincerely each time they made a space for her. She even answered some of their questions, as long as they were of the generic and non-personal type.
She was fully registered before Clark was, so she secured their favorite table in the student commons, then furnished it with some of his favorite junk food.
He found her there a little after five o’clock. “Hi, babe! Long time no see.”
She lifted her soft drink bottle and gave him a sultry look. “All you have to do is whistle. You do know how to whistle, don’t you?”
He fell into a terrible Bogart impression. “Sure. Ya just put yer lips t’gether ‘n’ blow.”
They tapped their bottles together in a toast. She leered at him and said, “Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.”
He grinned and sang off-key. “’We have it all, just like Bogie and Bacall.’ Mixing our film noir classics again, aren’t we?”
She scrunched her face in thought, then nodded. “I guess I am. ‘To Have and To Hold’ combined with ‘Casablanca’ to form a completely unintelligible mish-mosh.”
“Throw in ‘The Big Sleep’ and ‘Key Largo’ and it’s high art.”
She laughed. “True. What’s your schedule look like?”
Instead of answering, he sat back and looked around. “Honey, do you realize that this is the last time we’ll begin a semester here? We’re on the last lap of our senior year! Isn’t that amazing?”
She frowned. “I don’t plan to lift my head until we lock in those two top spots. Dr. Wenzel told me we have the inside track on both honors.”
“Don’t forget about our two competitors.”
“Just one. The pre-med student has pneumonia and is laying out this semester. There’s only one other person even close.” She looked directly into his eyes. “Clark, I want those honors. I really, really want them.”
Clark lifted a cupcake. “I promise to do my best, to do my duty – “
Lana grinned and kicked him in the ankle. “Enough already!” Then she turned serious and leaned closer. “Clark, this is really important to me. Important enough to spend some serious study time every night, even if it takes me away from you on occasion. I want you to understand how much I love you, but I also want you to know how much I want to be on the platform come graduation day. I won’t die if it doesn’t happen, but I know I won’t be much fun to live with for a while.”
Clark nodded. “I think I understand. I promise to do my best, Lana, really and truly. It’s my scholastic goal to stand beside you on that platform come June.” He leaned in and kissed her, then his eyes and mouth popped open. “Hey, a thought just hit me.”
She tapped his forehead with her fingertips. “Don’t let it die of loneliness.”
“Funny girl. But really, I had a thought. Which one of us will be number one and which will be number two?”
Her grin faded into mock disgust. “If you have to ask that question, farm boy, you don’t know me half as well as you think you do.”
*****
They worked hard until spring break and carried 4.0 averages to that point in the semester. Instead of partying or heading to a beach like so many of their classmates, they buckled down and finished all their outstanding assignments by late Tuesday night. By agreement, they slept in on Wednesday and did nothing unless they really wanted to. Superman managed a fairly uneventful afternoon patrol, but Lana did little more than nap most of the day. Clark woke her up long enough to eat dinner, then they went to bed early and made long overdue payments up on their sleep debt.
Thursday, all day, was spent in personal one-on-one time.
The phone rang before breakfast on Friday morning. Clark’s arm snaked out from under the covers and answered it. “Hello? Hi, Dad. No, we’re done with our homework for the week. It is a very nice feeling, yes. Lunch and dinner? Let me check.” He pulled the phone down. “My folks are inviting us down for lunch and dinner today. I think they miss you.”
Lana reached over and tweaked his nose. “They miss both of us, genius. That sounds like a great idea to me. When should we be there?”
“Dad? Oh, sorry, Mom? When should we be there? Well, about two hours, maybe a little more. We’re not up yet. No, I think we’ll drive. Let’s not risk attracting any more attention than we have to. Okay, see you when we get there.”
He hung up and turned to face her again. “Shall we get up and get ready?”
Lana reached out and captured his face against hers, then rolled on top of him. “Not just yet. I have something else in mind first.”
She kissed him, long and soft and wet and gentle. She pulled back and watched him smile languorously. “What do you think of that, oh husband most muscular?”
He reached up for her. “Mmm. I love it when a plan comes together.”
*****
In mid-May, as the semester was winding down, Lana went to her faculty advisor for the last conference she’d have with him as an undergraduate. Dr. Wenzel was smiling, as usual, and talkative, also as usual.
“Lana, you have done extremely well in your college career. I’m proud to count you as my student.”
“Thank you, Dr. Wenzel. I really appreciate all the help you’ve given me over the last four years.”
“Think nothing of it! I’ve always been impressed by your level of preparation, both in the classroom and in the field. Speaking of your being in the field – “
He stopped and handed her a binder. “This is a proposal for the second major phase of the Kenya dig, the one you worked on last summer. Your father, unfortunately, won’t be on-site this time, but his two top assistants will be. They’ve asked for you personally, Lana. They want you to come and work with them.”
She leafed through the papers. “This is fascinating! I’d like to go back. There are so many things we had to leave undone. So, is this my final six weeks of field work?”
“No.”
She was stunned. “What? No? What does that mean?”
He grinned at her. “It means that the committee has waived the final six weeks of your field assignment requirements. You’ve crammed what usually takes people five to seven years into four, and the work you’ve done has always been of the highest caliber. Professor Zimmer isn’t asking for six weeks, but for two years.”
“Two – YEARS?!?”
She fell back in the chair, stunned. She hadn’t figured on anything like this! It was far more than a shock and only slightly less than a bomb going off in her lap.
“Two years? Really? Two straight years in the field?”
Wenzel shook his head. “No, no, no! They can’t work during the summer months. The schedule is written into the government permits. During the non-field, times, however, the team will clean, identify, label, evaluate, and compare any and all artifacts drawn from the site. There will also be visits from family and friends at the site during the year, and at least two weeks of vacation during the summer down time. They expect a significant number of articles from this site, perhaps even a book or two. What do you say?”
Her head was still whirling. “It’s a great – it’s a fabulous offer, but I – I have to talk to my husband.”
Wenzel smiled. “I thought you might. I told Bill Zimmer he’d have to wait to hear from you. But I have to tell you that he’s most eager for you to join his staff. After all, we only graduate one valedictorian in each senior class.”
Lana stared, uncomprehending, for about three seconds, then his words sank into her brain. She leaped to her feet, punched the air, and screamed for joy.
“Yee-hah! Valedictorian! Yaaaaahh!” She did a happy dance around the chair she’d been sitting in. “Take that, Robert and Carolyn McConnell! Yaaaaahh! I did it!”
Dr. Wenzel’s secretary peeked in, saw the professor seated at his desk and his student dancing for joy, and closed the door. Lana never saw her, never knew she was there.
Lana finally ran down. “I have to – call Clark! I have to tell him – about this!”
“And about the dig?”
“Oh. Yeah! About the dig, too!” She stepped towards the door, then jumped back to Wenzel’s chair and kissed him on his bald pate. Then she threw open the door and sprinted through the secretary’s office and into the corridor, her fist raised in triumph. “Yee-hah! Lana Lang-Kent, Valedictorian! Yaaaaahh!”
The secretary looked in. “Her reaction about what you expected, sir?”
He grinned and wiped his head with a tissue. “A little more than I expected, but not really excessive. She’s really worked hard for it.”
“What about her husband?”
“Clark Kent? Oh, yes, he’s certainly a deserving salutatorian. I still can’t believe he scored so poorly on his statistics final. He’s been an A-plus student almost all the way through. That ‘A’ minus grade pulled his cumulative average eight hundredths of a point lower than his wife’s. If he had aced that final, their places would be reversed.”
She smiled. “Oh, I can believe it. I’ve met him, and he’s dreamy.”
“Margaret, he’s a happily married man!”
She laughed. “He’s also young enough to be my son. But I can still believe it.”
He nodded. “I suppose I can too.” He stood and straightened some papers on his desk. “You think he’ll tell her he deliberately finished second?”
“No. Absolutely not. Not in a million years.”
“I don’t know, Margaret. The next really serious argument they have, it could pop out without his ever thinking about it.”
She leaned against the doorjamb and sighed. “No, Dr. Wenzel, not that one. He’ll take that secret to his grave, and love her more every day while he carries it.”
*****
Lana burst through their front door. “Clark! Where are you? You won’t believe it! I didn’t believe it at first but now I do! Clark! Where are you? Come here and kiss the class valedictorian!”
The basement door opened and he bounced into the room. “Lana? Did I hear right? You’re – “
“Yes! Yes-yes-yes-yes! Yes!!” She leaped into his arms and he spun her around in the middle of the room.
“Honey, that’s great! Have you called your dad?”
“No! I wanted to tell you first! Hey! You haven’t kissed the valedictorian yet! Gimme a good one!”
He lifted her into a happy smooch. As their lips separated, the phone rang. Lana kicked loose from Clark’s embrace and ran to answer it.
“Hello, University of Kansas Valedictorian speaking. Thank you! Yes, he’s here.” She stuck the phone out. “Honey? Call for you.”
He took the phone and she whispered, “Don’t tie up the phone line too long, all the papers will want to interview me.”
He whacked her gently on the rear end as she sauntered towards the kitchen. “Hello? Yes, this is Clark Kent. What? Really? Are you sure? There’s no mistake? Thank you! No, thank you! Yes! Goodbye!”
Lana bounced back to him. “What was that, a job offer?”
“Almost as good. You, my brilliant bride, may joyfully kiss the University of Kansas Salutatorian!”
Here face glowed. “No! Really? Oh, Clark, that’s so wonderful! The first wife-husband team at Kansas to get those two slots!”
“Husband-wife team.”
“Hey, I’m in the top slot! Wife-husband.”
“It’s an alphabetical pairing, Lana.”
“Alphabetical my left elbow! Wife-husband!”
“Husband-wife.”
“Oh, yeah? Who says so?”
Clark picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, then ran around the living room bent over like a chimpanzee. “Tarzan say so! Tarzan take Jane for mate! Whoo! Whoo! Famous American archaeologist mates with famous ape-man! Ya-eey-ya-eey-yaaaaahh!” Then he pulled her shoes off and tossed them into the corner of the room. “To treehouse! No more homework! We go to treehouse! Tarzan and Jane argue later! Ya-eey-ya-eey-yaaaaahh!”
Lana would have protested the manner of her trip to the bedroom, but she was laughing too hard.
*****
Lana and Clark made the national media again, at least for a day. Lois Lane picked up a copy of the Daily Planet on her way into work and read the entire article. She figured it was a slow news day; the article covered most of the second page of the metro section. She read about the offer Lana had received to work in Kenya for two years. Even Lois knew what a prize offer that was.
Bet Kent was thrilled to learn about that one, she thought.
She also noted that Lana was considering other offers, including one to work in the Metropolis Museum of Natural History. Her eyes widened at that. Lana Lang-Kent in the same city as Lois Lane? Might as well issue body armor to the general populace. The first time they met, Lois would take her head off.
Naw. She’d invite her to lunch, have a nice public social occasion with ‘just us girls,’ make her laugh, get her to lower her guard, get her alone in a parking garage, and then take her head off. Nice to dream about it. Good stress relief.
No guy as nice as Clark Kent deserved to be married to the over-achiever from Siberia. It would take someone like Superman to corral her, and even then he’d have his hands full.
Lois’s hand jerked to a halt as she reached for the subway door. Clark Kent, a nice guy? Now where had that thought come from?
*****
“Lana, I can’t believe you’re even thinking about Kenya right now!”
“It’s a great offer! Do you know how big a boost that would be to my career?”
“Of course I know! You have a husband to think of, too.”
“And I have been! Kenya is a great place for a writer! Just think of all the human interest stories there! And the chance to write up a series of wonderful archaeological discoveries for the general public! It’s a writer’s paradise!”
He crossed his arms and tried to face her down. “What about your marriage? You’re still pretty much a newlywed! Do you really want to set up married housekeeping in a tent? You know how slim the privacy margin is for the bosses. It’s even worse for new people. You’d be on call twenty-four hours a day, you’d be filthy dirty and exhausted almost all the time, and you’d have a very bored husband waiting for you in your tent when your day finally ended! And that’s assuming there are lodgings for married couples! Is that what you really want, Lana?”
She almost burst out again, but controlled herself and forced herself to think. “No. That’s not really what I want.” She turned and gestured dramatically. “But it’s such a great shot!”
“There will be others, I promise. Now, I think you should seriously consider the Metropolis museum job, don’t you?”
She sighed and hung her head. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll call them back and – “
“No. You talk to Clark about this. And tell him that either one of those offers is a great one, and that you really want to do some field work while you’re still young, and let him give you his input on it.” Dennis Lang patted his daughter on the shoulder. “Kitten, I’d really hate for you to damage your marriage so early. Let a few years pass, then you can whack him with something like this. You two haven’t even had your first anniversary yet.” He crossed his arms. “Or your first screaming fight.”
Lana hugged her father. “Thanks, Dad. It’s not really what I wanted to hear, but I guess it’s what I needed to hear. You’re right. I’ll talk to Clark, but I’ll also tell him I think Metropolis is a wonderful place to live for most of the year.”
He smiled. “I know from personal experience that it’s got nicer bathrooms.”
*****
Lana told Clark about both offers. He didn’t say a word until she was finished, then he took her hands in his and kissed them. “You really want to work on this Kenya dig, don’t you?”
She shook her head. “It’s not as important as the two of us. There’ll be other good opportunities like this one. I’m not exactly throwing my career down the laundry drain. Besides, I’d rather lose an early shot at the big time than risk losing you.”
“You can’t lose me, Lana. You’re stuck with me, remember? You couldn’t drive me away with a battleship.”
Her eyes began to water and she smiled. “I believe you, my darling. And I’m the luckiest woman on the planet, because I know that wasn’t just expansive hyperbole.”
He thumbed a tear from her cheek and smiled back. “See? Now we each know something about the other’s work. In high school, you wouldn’t have known what expansive hyperbole was if it licked you on the ear.”
She laughed and hugged him tightly. “I think the job prospects are better for journalists in Metropolis, too. Besides, if anyone or anything licks my ear, I’d rather it were you.”
*****
The weekend before they left was spent packing their belongings and getting them ready to move. Clark was surprised at the amount of ‘stuff’ they’d already accumulated, but Lana just laughed and told him it was the ‘stuff’ that would make up the doctoral theses for future generations of archaeologists.
They arrived at the Metropolis International Airport on the second Tuesday of June. They had decided to split up for the afternoon and meet at the Metropolis Westin. Whoever arrived first would secure their room.
The heat reflecting off the asphalt bludgeoned Lana, who signaled for a cab as soon as they left the terminal.
“Where to, lady?”
“Museum of Natural History.”
The cabbie smiled around his half-eaten cigar. “You a science buff or somethin’?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Lemme tell you, it’s one of the really nice ones. You seen the one in Chicago?”
“Just pictures.”
“Hey, it’s really somethin’, with all them dinosaurs and animal displays and them two lions.”
Lana was interested despite the heat and the traffic. “What two lions are those?”
The cigar worked its way to the other side of his mouth. “You don’t know? Back about eighteen-ninety and somethin’, the British was buildin’ a railroad some place in central Africa. These two really big lions, like nine feet long each, killed maybe a hundred native workers and some o’ the British dudes before they got shot. Ain’t no record of lions actin’ like that anywhere else any time else. I tell ya, that’s somethin’ weird.”
Lana nodded in comprehension. “I think I remember something about that. Didn’t they call the lions Ghost and Night?”
“Close. The Ghost and the Darkness, ‘cause they hunted at night a lot and they had a real hard time killin’ ‘em.” He swerved to dodge a bus. “Dumb idiot! You see that? Just ‘cause they’re bigger’n me they think they own the street! Anyways, the museum we got here in Metropolis makes that one out there in Chicago look like some first-grader’s show-and-tell.”
She sat back tuned out the cabbie, then closed her eyes to review her interview, but all she could think of was where Clark could find a job. He couldn’t be Superman full-time; he had to have a civilian life, and she couldn’t picture him being the stay-at-home spouse for any length of time. Maybe the newspaper that had printed some of his stories would have something for him. She hoped so.
She also hoped Metropolis didn’t harbor any lions, either real or metaphorical ones.
*****
Clark entered the editor’s office. “Mr. White? Clark Kent. Thank you for seeing me without an appointment.”
Perry stood and took Clark’s proffered hand. “Well! Glad to finally meet you in the flesh, Kent. Congratulations to you and your wife. That was quite a coup, both of you at the top of your graduating class.”
“Thank you, Mr. White. I wish I’d laid better groundwork for this, but I didn’t know we’d be moving to Metropolis until late last week, and I find myself in need of a job. You know my work, and you’ve always been strict but fair, so I thought I’d come to you first.”
Perry sat down and motioned for Clark to do the same. “I wish I had better news for you, son. Your work is always quality and always on time, and if I had a opening I’d snatch you up so fast it’d detune the King’s guitar. But the truth is, I don’t have anything full-time right now. We have five or six brand new reporters on staff, and the average is that half of them are gone within the first six months, so if you can survive until then I’d love to hire you.”
“What about freelance stuff? Do you still buy from outside?”
Perry gestured expansively. “Of course we do! Listen, you write something, I don’t care what it is, let me have first crack at it. I’ll either buy it or not in one day. How does that sound?”
“Pretty good, Mr. White. Thanks.”
They both stood. “And son, if you get a full-time offer you like before I have a slot for you, don’t feel obligated to wait for me to get back to you. You have to feed your family just like everybody else does, so don’t think you’re letting me down if you take another job.”
“Thank you again, sir.”
“What’re your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Oh, I thought I’d walk around a little, learn how the city is put together. I’m meeting my wife at the Westin for dinner.”
“You two staying there for a bit?”
“For a couple of days, until we find an apartment we like and can afford.”
Perry laughed and slapped Clark on the shoulder. “Son, you’ll find that most everything costs more here than it does in Kansas. I wish you luck.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m sure – “
The office door burst open. “Chief, I have some more information on – “
Startled, Clark looked at a surprised Lois Lane. His eyebrows leaped upwards. Her mouth gaped open, revealing firm gums and perfect teeth. Perry gestured to her, frustrated.
“Lois, you have got to knock first, girl! You can be hard-charging all you want out there, but this office is mine and you will treat it as such! You got that?”
“Sure, Chief, I got it. I’m sorry.” She turned to leave.
“Wait! Lois, I’d like you to meet this fella. You know, he just might – “
She turned back and held out her hand. “Hello again, Clark.”
He examined her hand, then carefully took it. “Hello, Miss Lane. So, you work here now?”
She nodded, not smiling. “Fulltime since April. Intern before that. You?”
“Job-hunting.”
“Your wife take the museum job?”
“Deputy assistant director in charge of acquisitions. She starts officially on Monday.”
Lois released his hand and nodded again. “Good for her. The Kenya expedition wasn’t so attractive after all, huh?”
Clark’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re awfully interested in us, aren’t you, Miss Lane? Any particular reason for that?”
Perry stepped between them as if he didn’t feel the tension in the room. “So, you two know each other?” He snapped his fingers. “That’s right! Lois’s story on the Superman Foundation back in January.”
“Yes. My wife figured prominently in that story, as I recall. More so than I would have preferred.”
“She was news.”
Clark’s nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply, then he forced himself to relax. “That’s all in the past, Miss Lane. My wife doesn’t hold a grudge and neither do I.”
Lois smirked at him. “Glad to hear that. Tell her she still owes me a drink.”
Clark nodded, then lifted an index finger to excuse himself. He went to the vending machine, dropped in several coins, made his choice, and brought a bottle of cream soda back to Lois. He watched her expression as he handed her the bottle. She didn’t flinch, and in fact smiled ever so slightly. Perversely, he almost approved.
“Here you go, Miss Lane. This is for you, from Lana.”
“Thank you. It’s my favorite.”
“Glad to hear it. Mr. White, thanks for what you said. I’ll keep in touch.”
Perry nodded. “Good. You two have a good time in the big city before you have to buckle down and work.”
Clark didn’t look back at either Lois or Perry as he entered the elevator. As soon as he was gone, Perry closed the door to his office and glared at Lois. “Young lady, do you have a problem with Clark Kent?”
She put the bottle on Perry’s desk. “No, he’s okay, I guess, for a hack from Nowhereseville. I don’t have a problem with him, I have a problem with his wife.”
“Why? You interested in him?”
Perry’s comment was too close to the truth for comfort. “What? You mean – me, interested in him personally? No! No way! He’s married! And even if he weren’t, I’m nowhere near ready to settle for a – a Kansas farm boy! And I doubt I ever will be!”
“Well, since there’s a fair chance he’ll be working here soon, do you think you can tolerate either or both of them on a regular basis?”
Her eyebrows jumped up and her eyes bulged. “You hired Clark?”
“No, not yet. We don’t have the money in the budget or a slot for him. But you know the rookies you came in with. At least two of them won’t last out the summer, and I’ll have a place for Kent if he still wants it.”
Her face settled into a scowl. “Oh, come on, Chief! Why wouldn’t he want to work for one of the most prestigious news publications east of the Mississippi?”
He waved his finger in her face. “Don’t flatter me with my own words, young lady! Now, you came in here for something specific. Do you perhaps remember what it was?”
“Yes. Take a look at this folder and see if you see what I see.”
Perry twinkled at her. “You’re looking for another hot story, aren’t you?”
She frowned. “Of course I am. You’ve said yourself that a good reporter is only as good as her latest byline.”
“I did at that. So let’s take a look at what you have.”
She spread her notes out on his desk. “Someone is smuggling munitions from several points on the East Coast to various hot spots in Africa, India, and Southeast Asia. Some of it is just recycled Russian and Chinese weapons, but a lot of it is stolen U.S. Army ordnance. I have a contact on a base in the South who thinks there are a few noncoms and a sprinkling of officers who are running their own little gun and knife show on the side.”
Perry picked up a sheet of paper. “Yeah. I see that. Any idea how they’re doing this?”
“My military contact thinks they’re skimming the munitions a little at a time to keep from calling attention to themselves, then staging the stuff somewhere and shipping it when they have enough to make it worthwhile. I think there’s at least one warehouse in Metropolis, and I’m pretty sure there’s one somewhere in South Carolina, and maybe two in Florida.”
“What’s their main debarkation point?”
“I haven’t got that nailed down, not for sure, but I think the last shipment left from Hob’s Bay about four months ago. I think it’s because they want to ship from as far up the coast as they can so they can spread out the evidence.”
“Reasonable. Now for the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Who’s in charge of this?”
Lois shrugged. “That’s the loosest of the loose ends. I don’t have any hard data on that. It has to be somebody big, though. The highest-ranking officer my contact knows about is a captain who’s always in trouble with his commander, barely stays out of the brig or whatever the Army calls their jail. I think the big boss is civilian, not military.”
Perry frowned in concern. “Lois, if this is as big as you say, we need to bring in someone with more experience to run this.”
“What? No! This is my story! I dug all this information up, me! This is mine!”
“And it will stay yours! But if what you’ve told me is true, these people won’t hesitate to kill you dead as Caesar’s ghost if you put one little toe over the line! I won’t allow you to risk your life, young lady, no matter how good you think you are or how big the story might be!”
She locked eyes with him for a long moment, then sighed. “You’re right, Chief. I’m sorry. This is a big story. If you bring someone in, will you at least guarantee me co-author credit?”
He nodded. “Yes. I’ll promise you that. And you have to promise that you won’t get yourself in trouble before your partner gets up to speed.”
“I promise.” She raised her hand. “Girl Scout’s honor.”
He held her gaze for a breath, then nodded and motioned for her to gather her notes. It was a good thing for her that Perry didn’t know she was never a Girl Scout.
It was also a good thing for her that Perry didn’t see how flustered his guess about her feelings for Clark had made her. She walked back to her desk, ordering herself to get control of her emotions. She insisted to herself that Kent was already married, and besides he was a Kansas nobody, not anywhere good enough for her.
She wasn’t convinced.
