It's been a long time, so here's a recap of what happened in the last part:
“The best known of these accounts was written centuries ago by a man named Dante. He described it as a series of concentric circles, each more gruesome and horrible than the last. Each the final destination of a particular sort of villain. Thieves, murders, liars, they all had their own place, and their own specific torment. And in the last circle, Trey, was the place where the worst of the worst were cast. Can you imagine what sort of monster would be sent there?”
“Well, sir,” Trey stammered, unsettled by the look in Kal El’s eye and the menacing note creeping into his voice. The First Minister stood, drawing himself up to his full, imposing height. He stood just a few inches taller than Trey, but he seemed to loom larger than life, a towering figure, whose intimidating size was normally tempered by a gentle disposition. Not a trace of that gentleness was present at that moment.
“Traitors,” he said, cutting Trey off. Kal El stepped forward and Trey found himself in the other man’s shadow. His fierce eyes, so dark they appeared black, narrowed. “The deepest circle of hell is reserved for those who betray.”
“Sir,” Trey nearly choked as he tried to form a response, to defend himself against the charge. But as the words started to gather, he realized there was no defense. He was not being unjustly accused.
“Enough!” Kal El snapped. “You were the only one who knew that Zara and I would be at the hearing. Who did you tell?”
Trey’s eyes widened in fear. He suppressed the shiver that ran through him. “Only the jurist, Pelmon…”
“Who must have told Rae Et,” Kal El mused.
“I did not know…” Trey began.
“I have never expected blind loyalty,” Kal El said, a deep frown carved into his expression. He stepped forward so that he was mere inches from Trey, looking down at the older man with a glare that Trey would have sworn could have melted steel. “If you opposed my leadership or my decisions, you were free to criticize them, to leave the administration. But what you’ve done isn’t a betrayal of me, Trey; I couldn’t care less about that. You’ve colluded with the enemies of everything you claimed to stand for. You aided them in their attempt to bring chaos and death to this world.”
Trey shook his head agitatedly. “I never meant to…” He took a step back, his heart pounding the rhythmless staccato of the hunted.
“It doesn’t matter,” Kal El replied abruptly. “Whatever you intended, you compromised the safety of this entire government and undermined everything we’ve worked for. I no longer have use for your company or your counsel, Trey.”
********
“Sir?” Ching asked. Kal El turned back around. “I never thanked you properly, for saving my life.”
Kal El smiled wearily. “This world is in desperate need of good men, Ching. We need you to keep fighting.” With that, he entered his room and closed the door behind him.
********
“Please talk to me,” he repeated.
“I was worried about you,” she replied unconvincingly.
“Nothing happened to me and I am fine. If what happened the other day is still bothering you, it is all right, it is to be expected.” He fought to keep the tremor out of his voice when he said the words. The assassination attempt had left him badly shaken. The exhilarating taste of unexpected freedom was quickly replaced by bitter fear and anger as Zara’s life had once again been placed in jeopardy.
“It is not that.” She turned so that her back was to him. He did not push, hoping that she would choose to open up to him. “There is something I have not told you, and I only realized now that it has been slowly tearing me apart inside.”
“You can tell me anything,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her again.
She sighed again. “When my ship was shot down and we crashed, I suffered internal bleeding, you know that.” Zara turned to face him again.
Ching merely nodded, surprised at how much pain her simple words could cause him. The fleeting reminder was enough to open the wound.
“What I did not tell you is that my injuries left me unable to have children,” she whispered, still avoiding eye contact. Ching remained silent, knowing that there was nothing he could say. His hand slipped into her hair and cradled the back of her head. He pulled her closer, enfolding her in his arms, holding her against his chest. Neither said a word. He could almost feel her pain radiating from her slender frame. He wanted more than anything to soothe it away, to make the pain disappear, or to at least take the burden from her, but he could do none of these things.
“It seems silly for me to be affected by this; it was unlikely that I would have ever had children,” she whispered against his chest.
“But that should have been your choice. That was taken from you. Of course it hurts,” he murmured. Ching kissed the top of her head, still holding her tightly. “What did your parents say?” he asked.
“They do not know,” she replied.
“You have not told them?” he asked, puzzled.
“I told no one besides you. You are the only other person this affects.”
Ching ran his fingers gently through her hair. She looked up at him and touched his cheek. Zara kissed him softly. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “You are the only man whose children I ever thought I would have, but now I cannot give you that,” she said, her lips only inches from his.
“Shhhh,” he whispered as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “You have given me everything. Everything I have, everything I have ever wanted. I only wish that I could have spared you this pain.”
“I did not believe that learning I would never be a mother would affect me so strongly,” she admitted.
He kissed her again. “We may never have our own children, but that does not change the fact that you already are a mother. You have a mother’s love for this world. You care for it, protect it, sacrifice for it. That is what motherhood is.”
********
New stuff:
“Sir, I am not certain this is wise,” Enza began.
“I’m not talking about kidnapping and torturing the guy, I just want to know who he’s talking to,” Clark replied, unable to keep the hint of exasperation from creeping into his voice. He leaned across the small table in the secured caucus room. The dim lights and the cold, metallic walls of the room made their discussion feel all the more sinister. He could scarcely believe he was planning counter-espionage. He wondered if Lois would still think him to be naively trusting. “I’m afraid he’s a threat. You said yourself that you don’t think he’s trustworthy. He’s in a position to cause a lot of harm if he goes unchecked.”
“And more formal means of checking his power?” Enza inquired.
Clark shook his head. “You know that I can’t personally remove him and I don’t have enough evidence to convince the Council to do so. Besides, even if I did, just trying would probably rip the Council apart.”
Enza frowned, deep in thought. “But there might be another way. You and Zara were attacked after Ching’s release and given the fact that there was an expectation of retaliation, especially against those seen as having facilitated Ching’s release...”
“Including the judge who ordered him released,” Clark interrupted, his brow arched.
“We have good grounds to step up precautionary measures.” Enza finished. “I will approach the Chief Jurist and see if Pelmon can be relieved of his docket and placed under constant guard, for his own protection, of course.”
“Of course. And when that’s done, I want him fully investigated.”
“Aye, sir,” Enza replied. “With Trey’s cooperation, we should be able to begin building a case.”
“What about the supply sergeant, or the gunman?”
“The gunman is refusing to speak, but the supply sergeant was more than happy to cooperate once it became clear what sort of sentence he was facing. With any luck at all, we will gather enough evidence to formally charge Pelmon.”
“Thank you, Captain,” he said gratefully.
********
The farm’s fields were covered in the verdant growth of the new spring, stretching out to the horizon. The earth was wet and warm and alive. Lois sat on the porch swing with Jon in her arms, staring out at the clear blue sky dotted by wisps of clouds lazily drifting by. She looked back over her shoulder at the sound of the screen door opening, expecting her mother-in-law to step out and announce that lunch was ready. Martha stepped out onto the porch and sat down next to her on the swing. “So there’s a big luncheon for the winners at the end of May, right?” she asked. Both of them knew exactly what she was referring to.
“Yeah,” Lois replied.
“But they actually announce the winners a month earlier?”
Lois nodded. “Which is probably next week.”
“Nervous?”
“Oh yeah,” Lois replied with a smile. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting it at all, but ever since Perry called about it...I never thought…when I started writing this column, it wasn’t because I wanted to win some award. This was important to me.”
“It shows,” Martha replied. “It’s obvious in your writing how much you care. You make a difference with what you do, and not just as Ultrawoman.”
Lois smiled at her mother-in-law. They’d talked about the award several times in the weeks following that phone call from Perry. It always set off a tingle of nerves in her. It was difficult to count down the days since there was no guarantee as to when exactly the Pulitzer Committee would announce the winners. Instead, she was simply playing an interminable waiting game.
The screen door opened once again and Jonathan stepped out, cordless phone in hand. “Lois, it’s for you,” he said. He nodded, an impish smile on his face, as she took the phone from him and handed him his grandson. Jon went happily into his grandfather’s arms.
“Hello?” she asked nervously.
“Ms. Lane, this is Ted Jorgensen with the Pulitzer Committee.” Came the cheerful voice on the other end of the line. “I’d like to congratulate you on winning the Pulitzer Prize for best editorial series.”
She tried to form a response but no words would come. After a long moment she managed to say ‘thank you.’ Her gracious caller gave her the details of the ceremony the following month at her alma mater, Met U. Lois hung up the phone, still scarcely able to believe what she’d heard.
“Lois?” Martha looked at her, a questioning look on her face.
“I won,” Lois whispered. It wasn’t until she said the words that the reality sunk in. She’d won the Pulitzer Prize. The goal of her professional career, the prize that had always seemed just out of reach or over one more horizon, was hers.
And the one person she wanted to share it with most wasn’t there. The joy was muted, the victory bittersweet.
********
She stood on the porch staring up at the countless stars scattered across the night’s sky. With ease, she located the star that she searched for every night--the star that represented the focus of her dreams and her thoughts. A gentle breeze swirled around her, wrapping her in a blanket of warmth. Lois pulled out the chain around her neck and held the ring on it between her fingers. She looked down at it through tears and bit back a sob.
“I miss you so much,” she whispered. “So much has happened that I want to tell you about. I want you to meet your son, be able to hold him.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I won that Pulitzer…not for investigative journalism, but getting one for an editorial series isn’t bad. I always thought we’d win the investigative journalism one together. God, I’d give the damn thing back just to see you one more time. Your parents are okay, but they miss you. They just want you to come home, we all do. I love you, sweetheart. Happy anniversary.”
********
Clark found himself walking through the dim and deserted hallways of his compound. He rounded a corner that should have taken him back to his own quarters but found himself walking down a non-descript hallway that seemed to go on and on forever. He quickened his pace and was soon jogging and then running, past doorway after doorway.
Another hallway branched off to the left in front of him and he turned sharply. The new hallway looked exactly the same as the last, endless and dark. A faint light appeared at the end of the hall. It grew steadily brighter as he ran toward it. He sped up, running so hard and so fast that the breath escaped him in gasps. He felt his heart thunder in his chest, his pulse drumming in his ears.
He ran so hard and so long he thought he would collapse. Suddenly, the light filled the hallway in front of him. He stumbled to a halt, struggling to catch his breath and squinting under the intense light. Clark bent over, his hands on his knees as he labored to draw in deep, lungfuls of air. He looked up, one hand shielding his eyes. The light receded until only a faint glimmer remained. A silhouetted figure stood before him, serene and silent. As the light dimmed, he could tell it was a woman, slender and graceful and almost painfully familiar.
“Lois?” he whispered.
She stepped forward and smiled at him. “Sweetheart,” she murmured as she took his hands. He felt suddenly weightless, as though a giant burden had been lifted from him and he was floating, disconnected from the ground and liable to drift away entirely were it not for her small hands acting as his anchor. She wrapped her arms around him as he placed his head on her shoulder.
He felt her run her fingers through his hair. “God, I missed you,” he whispered breathlessly.
“I’m here,” she replied softly. “I’m here.”
He screwed his eyes shut, blinking back tears. He breathed in the scent of her as he tightened his arms around her. A sigh shuddered through him as tension leeched from his body. Like a fist unclenching, his muscles finally relaxed. “I’m just so tired,” he murmured. By finally speaking the words aloud, he was able to admit that truth to himself. He was exhausted – physically, mentally, and emotionally.
He wanted to go back to his old life, which while far from simple, was something familiar and well understood. As odd as it may have seemed, in the world where he was the strange visitor, he’d come to understand his place. He had a home, people who loved him, and purpose. Here, among his own people by biology, if not upbringing, he felt isolated. His duties were burdens and his surroundings were harsh, unfamiliar, and treacherous. He wanted to feel some sense of peace, something he really only felt when he was with Lois.
“I know,” she said gently, still stroking his hair. “But there’s still so much you have to do.”
He lifted his head to look at her. “I can’t,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s too much.”
She kissed his lips softly and smiled as she touched his cheek. “You can. And you will. You can do this, Clark.” She took a step back and his heart leapt up in his throat.
“Stay with me,” he pleaded.
“I will be waiting for you,” she said with a sad but peaceful smile.
He nodded, biting back tears, but wanting to break down and weep. He stepped forward, closing the space between them, and kissed her fiercely. She kissed him back. His eyes were closed tightly, but the tears still threatened to fall. She broke off the kiss and he buried his head against her neck, unwilling to let her go. She kissed his cheek and he felt the warmth of her breath against his skin. “Open your eyes, love,” she whispered.
He sat bolt upright with a start, his heart thundering in his chest, his skin covered with a film of sweat. Clark sighed in resignation, closed his eyes and fell back against the bed. As much as the dreams connected him to the only thing he wanted in the world, the mornings after he had them it was always so much harder to deal with the world around him. The dreams were so vivid, so real that waking from them was like leaving her all over again.
Rolling onto his side, he pulled out the watch he kept tucked away in a drawer near his bed and confirmed something he already knew to be true. It had been one year to the day since he’d left Earth. He sat up, feeling like his insides had been ripped out and he’d been left hollow and empty. He clasped the ring on the chain around his neck in both hands and closed his eyes. It had been so long and there was still no end in sight. The opposition was still strong and growing stronger in the Belaar and the circle of people he could trust was constantly growing smaller.
He’d spent his wedding anniversary listening to the latest reports of violence and skirmishes around the planet and meeting with various political leaders of the factions that threatened to rip apart the Council. All he’d wanted to do was retire to his room so he could be alone, but privacy was a currency that First Ministers did not deal in. His time was never his own.
********
“That’s the last of it,” Lois declared as she stepped into Clark’s apartment from the balcony, carrying Jon’s diaper bag, a suitcase, and Binky, the stuffed bear that went everywhere with them. She dropped the bags and spun out of the suit before walking over to Martha to pick up her son. They hadn’t returned to the apartment together since Jon was born there three months earlier. Lois would stop by it every once in a while after flying her patrols, but mostly the apartment stood empty and unused.
Metropolis was still like a tonic to her. As peaceful as life on the farm could be, her heart still beat to the rhythm of this city. Its energy coursed through her veins. And at the same time, being here made her feel more alone. Living in a city like Metropolis was never easy, that’s what made it exciting. But while there were times when it was exhilarating to live like it was just you versus the world, one person striking out in a big, anonymous city, now wasn’t one of those times. Over the last year, for the first time in her life she’d needed something Metropolis couldn’t give her. She missed the sheer adventure of it, the remarkable, vibrant life of the city, but she needed to be close to the people she depended on, and who depended on her. She needed the strength and support that only Martha and Jonathan could lend because only they truly shared in what she was going through.
Jonathan had remained on the farm for a few extra days to continue working, but Martha, Lois, and Jon had a week in the big city – plenty of time to see Lois’s parents and Perry and Jimmy. Lois walked around the apartment with Jon in her arms. “You were born here, little guy,” she explained as they toured the bright, airy spaces of Clark’s apartment. “That’s right, farm boy, you were born a city kid.” Jon laughed happily.
“Are Perry and Jimmy coming to dinner tonight?” Martha asked.
“Yeah,” Lois replied. “There’s nothing in the apartment, though, I figured we’d just order Chinese.”
“And tomorrow night you’re taking Jon to meet his grandparents?”
Lois nodded. “I’m nervous, I mean, I shouldn’t be, but I’ve avoided this for so long. I just really don’t want to fight with them anymore.”
“It’ll be fine,” Martha assured her. She walked over and squeezed the younger woman’s shoulder. “They’re going to meet their grandson and see what a wonderful little boy he is and they’re going to fall in love with him just like all the rest of us.” Martha tickled Jon and was rewarded by a burst of giggles. “Isn’t that right?” she asked him.
********
“All right, kiddo,” Lois whispered to the little squirming baby in her arms. “Time to meet Grandpa Sam and Grandma Ellen. They’re a tough crowd, but you’re going to win them over.” She took a deep breath and looked around the stoop outside Sam Lane’s elegant Upper East Side brownstone before ringing the bell.
The door opened and a grinning Sam Lane appeared on the other side. “Princess!” he exclaimed. “And who’s this little guy? Is this my grandson? Is this little Jon?” Jon happily went into his grandfather’s arms and discovered that Grandpa’s moustache was about the most fascinating thing in the world.
“All right, sport,” Sam said with a laugh as he tried to reclaim his upper lip from his grandson’s grasp. “Careful there or you’ll pull that clean off.”
“My heavens, isn’t he the cutest little baby!” Ellen declared as she entered the foyer. Lois breathed a sigh of relief as she watched her son enjoy the attention lavished upon him by his doting grandparents.
“Well come on, let’s not just stand around here, it’s dinner time!” Sam announced. He turned to Lois as they walked toward the dining room. “So I hear this Pulitzer thing is a big deal, huh?” he said with a wink.
“You could say that,” she replied.
********
Lois looked around the table at her gathered friends, family, and colleagues, all bright, beaming smiles. Unlike the Kerths, there was no suspense associated with the Pulitzer ceremony; the winners in all categories had been announced the previous month.
“I’m quite honored to present our next award,” the presenter said. “It is the greatest writers who move us, who sway us, who change the course of public opinion who find themselves in the exclusive group of recipients of the Pulitzer Prize for Best Editorial Series. This year’s winner has highlighted the triumphs of both everyday heroes and those whose courage has achieved the unimaginable in the harshest of circumstances. Our recipient has long been the scourge of common criminals, corrupt politicians, and unscrupulous businessmen. Now she has proven that she is as powerful a friend as she is an enemy. It is with great pleasure that I present this year’s award to the inimitable Lois Lane.”
The reporters and guests applauded heartily as Lois stood and walked up to the podium; she even heard Jimmy give a sharp whistle. “I’d like to thank the Pulitzer Committee, everyone at the Daily Planet and Planet Publishers, and of course, my family.” She smiled at her parents and the Kents. “I’ve met some wonderful, inspiring people over the course of the last year and have had the great honor of telling their heroic stories and I am forever indebted to them. I’d like to dedicate this award to my hero. My husband.” She blinked away tears. “I love you, Clark, come home soon,” she whispered too quietly for anyone to hear.
The applause was more subdued as she stepped down from the podium and returned to her table. She smiled as best she could, surprised almost, at how empty she could feel on what was the biggest day of her professional life. She’d seized the Pulitzer Prize, reporting’s crown jewel, and as one of the youngest journalists to ever do so. But it hardly seemed to matter. Given all the profound ways in which her life had changed in the last year, the Pulitzer hardly seemed earth shattering. It was another feather in her cap and another shiny prize to tuck away with the Kerths and the Merriwethers.
********
Lois breathed in deeply, the smell of linotype and newsroom coffee welcomed her back to the bullpen. The familiar din, the excitement, the energy, they all sent a tingle down her spine. A large banner congratulating her on the Pulitzer hung overhead and bottles of champagne sat in ice, waiting for the festivities to begin. She looked down at Jon, held safely in her arms. How he managed to sleep despite all of the action was beyond her.
“Hey, you guys made it!” Jimmy announced enthusiastically as he bounded up the stairs toward them. He’d ditched the jacket and tie but still looked significantly more grown up than usual in the buttoned down shirt and dress slacks he was wearing. “Wow, he’s getting so big!” he said with a big grin.
As if on cue, Jon started to stir. He opened his big, brown eyes and gave a little yawn. “Do you want to hold him?” Lois asked.
“Yeah,” Jimmy replied, still smiling.
“Say hi to your Uncle Jimmy,” Lois cooed as she handed her son to her young friend.
“By the King, it’s good to see you back in this newsroom,” Perry’s voice thundered from across the bullpen. “Now why don’t we get this party started, folks?”
Lois felt a ghost of a smile tug at the corners of her lips. God, she missed this place, and bringing Jon here at last felt so right. The last time she’d been here, she’d found the newsroom confining and unwelcoming. It was too familiar, too tied to happier days and better memories. But absence, as always, made the heart grow fonder.
********
He walked briskly down the hallway to a meeting for which he was noticeably late. Clark opened the door to the conference room to find Enza and Zara already there. Enza stood and bowed as Clark entered the room. “I will be presenting the evidence we have gathered against Pelmon to the Chief Jurist tonight.”
“Excellent work, Captain,” Clark replied. He remained standing by the doorway.
“Indeed, your work has been exemplary,” Zara added.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Enza replied with a slight nod. “I believe Talan will have an update for you regarding the surveillance being done in the Belaar.”
“We know that you are quite busy, Captain, and we thank you for your time,” Zara said graciously. Enza slipped away, leaving the First Ministers alone in the conference room.
Zara gave him a weary smile. “It has been some time since we have had an opportunity to speak.”
“And we have a few minutes before our next meeting, don’t we?”
She nodded. “Have you been all right? You seem distracted.”
“Just tired,” he admitted. He leaned against the doorframe.
“It has been a month and we have delayed far too long, we must select a new chief of staff.”
“What about Ching?” Clark asked.
“It is a great responsibility,” Zara replied noncommittally.
“And one I personally wouldn’t want to give to anyone we didn’t trust completely.”
Zara nodded. “He will be missed as a military commander, but you are right.”
They were both silent for a long moment. “How have you been?” Clark asked, realizing that it had indeed been a long time since he and Zara had had a moment to converse.
“Better since Ching was cleared,” she replied honestly. “Between the bitter factions in the Council and schemers in our midst, not to mention the rebellion, there is more than enough to worry about.”
Clark chewed his lip thoughtfully and nodded. It was certainly true. The last month had been a particularly trying time. He had thought that having Ching cleared would result in at least the gaining of a little breathing room, but of course, the new problems in the Belaar meant that their plates were more than full. They were still fighting a reactive war, letting the enemy choose the time and the place of the engagement. But now that the wagons had been circled, it was time to plan a counteroffensive. They would need to attack the weakest points under the enemy’s control.
“I’m not certain we can regain the loyalty of the Belaar.” Zara seemed to read his mind. “But perhaps we’ll be able to at least neutralize any threat there. Its councilors have resigned, but not all have actively sided with Rae Et and Nor.”
“Then maybe there’s still hope,” Clark replied.
********
The elder stateswoman paced hurriedly across the floor of her office. “We’ve lost several particularly useful connections,” Rae Et said impatiently. She glared down at her son, slouched down in a chair, looking nothing like imperial leader she’d been trying to groom him to be. “Sit up,” she snapped. He grudgingly straightened himself.
“A hired gun and a useful supply clerk – they’re hardly irreplaceable,” Nor sneered.
“Pelmon was arrested this evening, as we suspected he would be. Slovenly lout nearly had a heart attack from screaming at the guards, I’m told.”
“I never much cared for him,” Nor retorted.
“That is hardly the issue,” Rae Et growled. She stopped pacing in front of her son and held his head between her hands. “Look at me, son,” she instructed. “We cannot fail in this endeavor. It will be the death of both of us. And we can only win if we are smarter than our enemies, if we know what they are going to do before they do.”
She stepped back, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Luckily for both of us, we still have considerable access and formidable strength.”
“Mother, let me go forward with my plan,” Nor insisted.
“There is too much risk involved,” she replied with a dismissive shake of her head.
“I will prove to you that I am capable.”
“I know you are, my dear. I only want to ensure the best for you.”
********
“Captain, you said you had news?” Zara asked as she entered the reception room of the First Ministers’ compound, followed closely by Clark, Ching, and Talan. The bright, open space they found themselves in was a stark contrast to the dim, cramped conference rooms were so much of their time was spent, trying to hold together fractured alliances and plan the colony’s defenses.
“Indeed, ma’am,” Enza replied. She stood up and bowed before nodding instructively to her young niece, who did likewise.
“Well greetings there, young one,” Zara said to the little girl with a pleasant smile.
“Greetings,” Thia replied shyly.
“I am sorry, ma’am, I wanted to come and give you this news as soon as I learned of it myself and I did not have time to find someone to watch Thia.”
“That’s quite all right,” Clark replied. “Thia is always welcome here.”
“She most certainly is,” Zara agreed.
Enza smiled at her superiors before glancing back affectionately at her niece. Thia smiled slightly at the approval of all of the adults in the room. “Pelmon has been taken into custody upon the orders of the Chief Jurist,” she explained.
Clark could see a look of relief settle on Ching’s face. “That’s wonderful news,” Ching said in his typical, even tone, but the smile on his face spoke volumes.
“Indeed,” Zara replied.
“A prosecutor will be selected soon to mount the case,” Enza explained. “As we will likely be witnesses, other lawyers in the guild will need to handle the matter.”
“And they will have the full cooperation of our offices,” Zara replied. “Whatever they need, they will have. Captain, once again your work has been exemplary, and you have our deepest gratitude.”
Enza nodded modestly at the well-deserved praise. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Now I am afraid that Commander Ching and I must depart. We have a meeting with the Council leaders. Thank you all for your continued hard work.” Zara turned to Enza’s niece. “And goodbye, Thia, I always enjoy seeing you when you come to visit.”
“Goodbye,” Thia whispered.
“Goodbye,” Ching said with a slight bow. “And very nicely done, Captain.” With that, Ching and Zara left the reception room.
“Ma’am, sir,” Enza said as she looked at Talan and Clark. “Thank you both for your time. If you need anything further, please let me know. I will keep everyone updated as to any progress or news.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Talan replied.
Enza took Thia by the hand. “Say goodbye,” she instructed her niece gently.
“Goodbye, Kal El, Goodbye, Commander Talan,” the young girl said softly.
Clark crouched down next to her. “Goodbye, Thia,” he said with a smile. The little girl beamed. Clark stood up and addressed Enza. “You should be proud of the work you’ve done.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied almost timidly. “I am just pleased to know that justice will be done.” Hand in hand, Enza and Thia left the conference room, the young woman slowing her pace so that her niece could keep up.
“The child has great affection for you, sir,” Talan said. He turned around, surprised she had noticed such a thing.
Clark smiled. “She’s a wonderful little girl. Very bright and kind. In the middle of all of this, it’s nice to see that.”
Talan nodded and seemed to hesitate for a long moment before speaking. “Do you have any children, sir?”
He shook his head almost wistfully as he broached a topic he had not discussed with anyone since leaving Earth. He was surprised that it was his taciturn military commander who was doing the asking. She was singly the most reserved person he’d ever known. It wasn’t simply that her demeanor was permanently distant and staid; he’d never once heard her discuss a personal matter of any sort, however mundane. “I don’t. I mean, not yet. I’d like to, one day. What about you, Commander? Do you want to have children?”
“No, sir,” she said simply.
Huh. Apparently it was as simple as that, he thought to himself. Her dedication to a certain economy of phrasing was certainly unchanged.
“I realized very early on that my talents were best suited for martial pursuits and as such a career that was not particularly conducive to good parenting.”
“What about what you wanted?” he asked.
“We live in a world of necessity, not mere desires, sir,” she responded plainly.
He nodded in understanding. He couldn’t imagine trying to live without the very things that made him feel like a part of the world. His family was everything to him. Clark knew that if he tried to be Superman twenty-four hours a day, it would burn him out. His parents, Lois, they sustained him, gave him perspective, supported and encouraged him and he knew he needed that. Living here had made it clearer than ever. Talan seemed to live the life he imagined he would have if he were Superman full time. He wasn’t certain whether it was the life she would have picked, but it was very clear that she believed, with good reason, that it was incumbent upon her to do so.
“I do have one wish,” she said, breaking the silence. “I sincerely hope that my brother’s children will one day live in a world of more than just necessity. One in which they can pursue their desires. I hope that, in a small way, what I do will help make that possible.” Her expression seemed to soften. Her eyes wide with distant hope, her brow no longer furrowed, the corners of her lips turned upward in a hesitant, unsteady smile, bearing witness to the fact that she was long out of practice.
In that brief moment, he saw in her beauty, not merely in high cheekbones and striking gray eyes, but the deeper, simpler beauty in every human being who has ever felt kinship to another, who has ever indulged in simple dreams, and who has realized that despite all the hardship and suffering, the world still held its secrets of uncomplicated joy and innocence.
Her smile slowly faded, dying like a lone ember in a cold gust of wind. Her features mourned its passing as they formed into a studious frown. Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to survey her surroundings, constantly on alert, in that indefatigable, disciplined way. She was once again imposing, looming and distant, her presence even larger than life. Commander Talan cast long shadows across the world, but no reflections. She left no impressions. Clark was certain that none of the people around her could claim any insight into the Commander’s personality. They had no anecdotes to share about this person so well recognized and yet so unknown. Clark was hardly an expert, but it was clear that there was much more to Commander Talan than the surface would suggest.
********
The door to the conference room swung open and a dozen pairs of eyes turned toward the interrupter. “Sir, Ma’am,” the guard said with an apologetic nod. “There’s news.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will convene at a later time,” Zara announced. The group of gathered advisors filed out of the conference room. Zara turned back to the guard. “Is it General Command?”
“Aye, Ma’am,” the guard replied before backing out of room and closing the door behind him.
Clark turned on the communications monitor. General Flad appeared on the screen. “Sir, Ma’am, Terian has been attacked again. We fear the defensive forces will be overrun and the settlement may be lost.”
“Have forces been mobilized?” Clark asked. He frowned, remembering the last time the settlement had been attacked, over a year ago.
“Aye, sir, Air Command is prepared to airlift forces to the theater of operations. Troops have been recalled and will be deployed in a few hours. Forces in the field are being diverted there.”
“Keep us updated, General, briefings every half hour, even if you have no new information.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Flad replied with a bow.
********
A haggard and tired looking General Flad stood before them, his shoulders slightly stooped, his eyes darkly circled. “Ma’am, Sir, we have retaken the city of Terian,” he announced wearily. Four sleepless days and nights had passed. Days and nights they had spent planning and coordinating with their field commanders, hanging breathlessly on every word and every scrap of news. Four bloody days and nights in which numerous casualties, both military and civilian, had been suffered to retake the settlement.
“Thank you, General,” Clark replied. “The casualties?”
“I will have final figures to you as soon as possible,” Flad replied. “If there is nothing else…”
“Get some rest, General,” Zara replied. Flad nodded and quietly retreated.
********
“Sir!” Clark turned to see Parth running toward him through the hall. The younger man saluted and handed him a few pages with columns of names. “The casualty reports, sir,” Parth explained.
Clark’s face fell as he looked at the list of names and ages of the people who’d lost their lives in the recent battle at Terian. His heart sank as he read through the list of men, women, and children who’d died. He stopped, stunned to find a name he recognized.
Ensign Rayid, Medic, twenty-five, Killed In Action.
He swallowed roughly. “Uh, thank you, Ensign, that’ll be all,” he said dismissively to Parth. He reread the name, shaking his head in stunned silence. Absently, he rubbed at the wound on his shoulder, long since scarred over, that Ensign Rayid had treated at the battle for Terian so many months ago. He folded the papers up in his hands and continued walking down the hall to another meeting he was already late to. He opened the door to the conference room, where Enza and Zara were already discussing the charges that had been brought against Pelmon and Sergeant Garo.
“I need to go to Terian,” Clark said abruptly. He probably should have waited until he and Zara were alone to discuss the matter, but he couldn’t make himself care about decorum.
“When?” Zara asked.
“As soon as possible,” Clark replied as he ran a hand absently through his hair. “It’s important.”
Zara nodded in understanding. “We should be able to manage without you for a few days.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, it shouldn’t take too long.”
“We will keep you informed of any new developments. Shall I ask Ching to accompany you?”
“No, he’s needed here,” Clark replied. With that, he cut the meeting short. There was much he needed to do to prepare for the journey.
********
