From part 2 ...
“I can’t stay here,” he said. “I have to get to Lois.”
“You can’t,” Lois said matter-of-factly. “There are time-delayed dead locks. Once the door is opened, it can’t be opened again for fifteen minutes.”
He unlocked her apartment door and ran back to the steel door. He braced against it and –
“What are you doing?”
Ok, he remembered this. Being bound by ties that couldn’t hold him. Being imprisoned by locks that couldn’t contain him. Just so Lois wouldn’t guess he was anything more than inept Clark.
He turned with a shrug of resignation. “I thought it might be weaker than it looks.”
Her look was pure, undiluted Lois Lane exasperation.
He followed her back to her apartment, lost in a tornado of conflicting emotions. Gnawing anxiety for Lois. Bristling frustration at being locked in. Bittersweet nostalgia at being in Lois’s apartment with a Lois who didn’t think twice about nailing him with a single look.
He would sit out the time. He would plan. He would rescue Lois.
Back in her apartment, she put her hand on his chest. “You’re safe here,” she said.
“Why the time-delayed locks?” he asked with a sigh.
“Tex has a thing about time,” she said. “Everything is timed to the last second.” She swallowed. “Even murder.”
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TEMPUS: FOUR PLAY part 3
Clark sat on Lois’s love seat, his plan beginning to formulate. It was time for Superman.
Partly because he couldn’t let Lois see Clark Kent doing Super stuff.
But mostly because, Kryptonite or not, it was time to confront Tempus. This had gone far enough.
“Clark?”
He looked up at her.
“I feel so bad about getting us into this. I can’t believe I let Tex dupe me. I was wrong... about so many things. I’m sorry.”
“Lois? There’s something I have to tell you.”
“I know.”
“What do you know?”
“I know you’re hiding something. I’ve known for awhile. There’s something about you that just doesn’t add up.”
Clark took his wedding ring from his pocket and held it up for her to see.
“You’re married?” she gasped. “Clark, how could you not tell me? And why have you hidden her all this time? Is she still in Smallville? And what business did you have saying you’re in love with me?” Her face suddenly twisted. “It’s Lana, isn’t it?” she accused coldly. “You told me that was over.”
He put on his ring. “No, it’s not Lana. Remember Lois? Lois who swapped clothes with you? Lois from the alternate dimension? I’m her Clark.”
“She has a Clark too?” she squeaked. Then her amazement morphed into panic. “Clark!” she screamed. “Clark!” She sagged onto the bench, her head in her hands.
Clark stood and drew near to her. “Lois?”
She turned like a viper. “How could you?” she screeched. “How could you come here, all safe and protected, and leave Clark ... my Cl... Clark up there to take the bullet?”
“It wasn’t *my* idea to come here.”
She turned away from him. “Clark ... Clark,” she said so low he wouldn’t have heard without superhearing. “... don’t leave me.”
He knew it wasn’t him she wanted, but Clark couldn’t stay away. He put his hand on her small, trembling shoulder. “Lois.”
She faced him, fury spent, but replaced by a cold abhorrence which was much worse. “You sound like him, you look like him, but you are *not* like him. He would never let someone else die for him.”
*You left my Lois with Tempus*, he wanted to scream back, but a slanging match wouldn’t help anyone. “Lois, I’m sorry,” he said, although he wasn’t totally sure what he was sorry for.
She glanced at the clock. “There’s still time.”
“Time for what?”
“Time to get Clark down here too.”
But Clark was Superman and Superman was missing. “What if you can’t find him?”
“There’s another option.”
Her meaning ricocheted through his consciousness. “No! Lois, no. You can’t do that.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“Clark would hate it. *You’d* hate it.”
Her tears overflowed and he yearned to gather her into his arms. “He’d rather be dead?” she whimpered.
“What if there’s only one bullet?” he said with a calmness he didn’t feel.
She looked up at him. “Tex said there were two.”
“Tempus wants Superman dead. Threatening Clark is about scaring you.”
“He doesn’t like Clark either. He’s jealous of our friendship.”
“Superman’s unique molecular structure makes the idea of a specifically guided bullet feasible. But Clark is just like everyone else. Maybe Tempus doesn’t have the technology to pick out one human amongst millions. Maybe he’s bluffing.”
She wiped her tears and smudged mascara with the back of her hand. “You think Clark might be all right?”
He didn’t know, but right now, she needed something to cling to. “I hope so.”
“What about Superman?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
She took a handful of tissues and dropped onto her love seat. He sat opposite and waited.
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Lois gulped. “Business?”
Tempus took out a small, pale green pill from his jacket pocket. “This is the wonder-drug of the twenty-third century,” he said. “During its spectacular - but regrettably short - reign of terror, it completely transformed the entire criminal landscape.”
She waited.
“Hypnotica Continuum. ‘Hip’ to its devotees. Its ingestion causes an irreversible hypnotic state where the *patient* is completely subservient to the suggestions of the *master*.”
Lois closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe evenly and think clearly.
“Despite extensive efforts, an antidote could not be developed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said dismissively. “The twenty-third century hasn’t happened yet.”
“You don’t believe I’ve been to the future?”
“Of course not.”
He unlocked the drawer in the lamp stand, took out a newspaper and handed it to her. It was dated 2005. “The White Sox finally win the World Series?” she said.
“Bet on it.” He took back the paper and locked it away. “But you don’t have time to read the details now.” He knelt before her, close, way too close, and held up the green pill. “Regrettably I found you lacking as a wife, so this remains your final option.”
“If I take the pill, you’ll spare Clark and Superman?” she said in a voice that, to her, sounded like it came from the depths of a crypt.
“I’ve always admired your perception, Lois.” He held the pill closer.
“How would I know you’ll keep your word?”
“Superman will no longer be a threat. Why not let him live?”
“Of course he’ll be a threat. He’s not going to sit by and let you get away with this.”
“Picture this, Lois. I will have you – completely, irreversibly in my control. Anytime I want to distract Superman, I simply suggest you jump off a building. Or step under a train. It would be just like having Superman in my power. Only so much more entertaining.”
“You are still filth. You still don’t deserve to breathe the same air as decent people. You don’t deserve to breathe at all.”
“Lois, there are nineteen minutes, thirty-three seconds until the weapon fires. If you choose not to take the pill, it *will* fire, it *will* find Superman and *you will* watch him die.” He offered her the capsule. “Take it. Save your friends.”
“No! Lois! No!”
Superman was sprawled on the floor, but his head was raised, watching them. “NOOOO!” he bellowed, as if expending every last atom of his strength and conviction into the word. He collapsed forward.
She took the green pill from Tempus.
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After what seemed like a long time, not-our Lois looked up at Clark. “You’re married to Lois?” she asked in a small voice.
He nodded.
“How long have you known her?”
“Five years.”
She twisted a tissue around her finger. “I’ve only known Clark a year. Why are we behind you?”
“Clark asked HG Wells to take him back in time four years so Superman could rescue you from the Congo.”
“HG Wells is dead,” she said listlessly.
“If I’m here, from a parallel universe... perhaps time travel isn’t so implausible.”
Clark could see she accepted that ... maybe. “So why did Clark want to go back?”
“To save you.”
“But he didn’t even know me.” She didn’t speak for awhile. Then she said, “He did that for me?”
Clark nodded.
“I had it all, didn’t I? But I threw it away before even realising what I had.”
“The marriage can be annulled.”
She shrugged. “Even if he survives this, any feelings Clark may have had... after what I’ve done... I doubt he’ll ever speak to me again. And I don’t blame him.”
“Clark’s got a big heart for forgiveness.”
“Do you think there’s *any* chance?”
Clark sighed. “Lois, even a guy who seems placid and dull and follows you around like a puppy – even a guy like that wants to be more than a girl’s second choice.”
“It was stupid to even consider Tex’s proposal. But things were so bad with Clark and even Superman was upset with me, it just seemed -”
“I’m not talking about Tempus.”
She studied him with her lovely brown eyes. “Superman?”
He nodded.
“Superman was safe for me. Deep down, I always knew I would never be with him. Not really.”
“Clark didn’t know that.” He stood up. “It’s almost time. We need to get back up there.”
She put her hand on his arm. “I’m going. You stay here. You’ll be safe here.”
“My *wife* is up there with Tempus.”
“She would want you safe.” They walked towards the steel door. “You love her, don’t you? Your Lois?”
“She’s my world.”
“Does she love you the same way?”
“Yes.”
She put her finger on the identity pad and the huge steel door opened. He was about to follow her through it when she turned and pushed him back with surprising force. She darted through the door and it shut behind her.
Clark leant against the wall and shook his head, chuckling.
He listened for the elevator door to close and move up. He smashed through the steel door and destroyed the identity pad with a spurt of heat vision. He x-rayed and found the power source and zapped that. The lights still worked. He found the emergency power source and zapped that. Still light. He located a third source and zapped that too.
The lights spluttered and the shelter went black.
Clark spun into the suit and flew to the top floor of Tempus Towers.
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On the ground floor, not-our Lois ran into the reception centre where the last of the guests were still celebrating her wedding, searching frenetically for Clark.
She hurried to the nearest guests, associates of Tex. “Have you seen Clark Kent?”
“He left earlier.”
She rang the Planet office from the pay phone. Perry White answered.
“Perry,” she said breathlessly. “Is Clark there?”
“No, Lois. Are you all right, darlin’?”
“Could you call Clark’s apartment, page him, anything? Tell him he *must* meet me on the ground floor of Tempus Towers? It’s urgent.”
There was a short silence. “Lois... Shouldn’t you be with your husband?”
“Ah... yes. Tell Clark to get to the ground floor and call me in the penthouse.”
“Lois ...”
“Please, Perry,” she sobbed. “Please find him. Please tell him to come to me.”
“Lois –“
“I have to go Perry. Please, please find Clark. I need him.”
He sighed. “Ok, Lois.”
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The pale green capsule sat innocently in Lois’s hand.
“Choices, choices, Lois,” Tempus said superciliously.
She slowly lifted it to her mouth, her eyes never leaving Tempus’s face.
Once it was in her mouth, Lois lifted her chin and took a deep breath... and spat the capsule as hard as she could into Tempus’s eye.
She raised her knees and drove her feet into his chest. He staggered back, but was immediately on his feet and closing in on her again.
She crab-stepped along the wall, eyes fixed on his, ready to pounce.
He stepped closer. She stepped further away. He stepped closer again.
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Not-our Lois rushed out of the elevator on the top floor of Tempus Towers and saw Superman.
She ran to him. “Superman!” she said in a loud whisper. “Have you seen Clark? There’s a Kryptonite bullet! In ten minutes! And Clark and Lois have –“
He calmed her with a hand on her shoulder. “I know, Lois.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
She gestured to the penthouse. “What’s happening in there?”
“I can’t see. This entire place is lead-lined.” He motioned her to be quiet.
“What can you hear?” she whispered.
“Two sets of footsteps, one heavier, one lighter.” He frowned. “It’s like they’re dancing.”
“Lois would *not* dance with him.”
“I’m going in. The door is locked. Stand back.”
“I have a k-“
Superman wasn’t listening. He charged through the door, snapping it off its hinges. Then he collapsed with an agonised groan.
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Lois Lane Kent heard the crash and saw Tempus’s eyes wander. Seizing her advantage, she charged him, ramming her shoulder into his abdomen, flattening him onto his back. Her momentum carried her onto him.
He pushed up against her shoulders, his superior strength forcing her away. With a quick twist, he had her on the floor and was hovering over her, his face a terrifying mix of uncontrolled anger and caveman triumph.
Beyond his face, she saw blonde Lois, arms raised with the branding iron.
She heard the crash and felt the reverberation. She wriggled sideways and Tempus fell next to her. She rolled away and stood. Tempus was already on his knees. He had a revolver, aimed at them.
“Two of you,” he snarled.
“Actually ... four” Lois said.
He turned the revolver directly on her. “Actually ... two.”
She watched his finger move on the trigger.
Then the revolver glowed and he dropped it with a yelp. Lois lunged at him, conscious of not-our Lois lunging beside her. Their combined weight drove him backwards; his head arced and slammed into the wall. He dropped to the carpet, with a guttural groan.
Then he slumped sideways, unconscious.
Not-our Lois’s face was beyond flabbergasted as she looked from the cage to the doorway. “Two Supermans,” she muttered faintly. “Of course, two Loises, two Clarks, there *had* to be two Supermans.” She looked at Lois, eyebrows raised. “Which one’s mine?”
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Clark had been barely through the penthouse doorway when he was hit with an immense shaft of pain, a simultaneous onslaught to every part of his body. Every joint, every muscle. He doubled over and the walls and floor whirled crazily as his legs gave way. He registered the green cage and Superman trapped in it.
He saw his wife ram Tempus, saw them scuffle, saw him overpower her. Clark struggled to stand, but the pain was unrelenting.
He saw not-our Lois raise the branding iron and hit Tempus’s back, saw him fall, saw them both rise.
Then he saw the revolver.
He forced his uncooperative eyes to focus on the weapon. He summoned all his concentration and fired every bit of superheat, terrified it wouldn’t be enough.
Tempus dropped the gun and Clark glanced to the cage.
He could tell by not-our Clark’s posture that he had fired too.
Together, they had been enough.
Clark looked back to Tempus. Both Loises had charged him and forced him into the wall with a resounding thud.
They both fell with him and Clark was treated to the sight of two deliciously-shaped derrieres.
The exposure to the Kryptonite had rendered him dizzy, nauseous and in substantial pain.
But a man would have to be dead not to have appreciated that sight.
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Lois Lane Kent picked herself up and rushed to her husband. “Quick,” she panted to not-our Lois. “Help me get him out of here.”
She heard the chimes of a distant clock and a second portion of the ceiling opened. A large weapon dropped down near the mural window. The ‘window’ raised, the weapon pointed out and fired with a deafening explosion.
Micro seconds later, a green blur came back through the hole and cannoned into not-our Clark. He lurched, gripped his chest, and then was still. The ‘window’ slowly closed as the weapon retracted.
Not-our Lois rushed to the cage. “Superman!”
Lois bent over her husband. “Help me.”
Not-our Lois turned.
“Help me!” Lois ordered.
Together they half-dragged, half-carried Clark out of the room and well away from the door. They leant him against the wall. Lois knelt beside him and took him into her arms. She discovered he was looking up at her and she kissed his forehead.
“You always... always were the most... beautiful bride.”
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Not-our Lois had returned to Superman in the cage. Judging by the other Lois’s reaction, this must be *hers* - the one she knew. He, usually so strong, so invincible, lay slumped and unconscious. She could see he was breathing – shallow and irregular - but concentrating on his chest made it impossible to avoid the gaping wound. She leant against the cage and sobbed.
Clark.
He hadn’t rung her. He hadn’t come. He was out there, somewhere. And if Tex had been telling the truth about two bullets, right now he was injured, vulnerable.
Dying.
Dead.
She clung to the bars. He could be infuriating, evasive and downright dense. But overshadowing all that was his goodness. He was inherently good. Trustworthily good. Put-your-heart-in-his-hands-and-know-it-was-safe good.
She *loved* him!
And she would never have the chance to tell him.
Her mind went back to the park. She saw him sitting there, saw his desperation, his intensity, heard his quiet voice – “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. You must have known.”
If only she could go back.
“I’m in love with you too, Clark.”
She tried to imagine his face, his wonder, his joy, but it wouldn’t come.
Angrily she kicked the green bars, but they had not the slightest give. She strained against them, but couldn’t connect with Superman.
She couldn’t help Clark. She didn’t even know where he was.
But she didn’t have to sit here and watch Superman die.
She dried the tears from her cheeks, picked up the revolver and went back to the corridor.
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Lois, in the wedding dress, was anxiously watching Clark, in the Suit. When not-our Lois approached, Lois shuffled away a little and removed her hand from his thigh. “How’s Superman?” she asked.
Not-our Lois leant against the far wall, positioned so she could still see Tempus in the penthouse. “Unconscious. The bullet wound looks awful. He’s breathing, but I don’t know how much more he can take.” She glanced to Superman. “How are you?”
“Ok. I just need time.”
“Time is something we don’t have. I think we should call 911 and get him out of that cage.”
“Do the general public know about Kryptonite?” Clark asked.
“No.”
“Then let’s see if we can get out of this without alerting every bad guy that Superman has an Achilles’ Heel.”
“Where did the cage come from?” not-our Lois asked.
“Tempus had some sort of remote control in his pocket and it –. “ Lois stood up and raced to Tempus. She rustled through his pockets and found the remote control. It had one button. She aimed it at the cage and pressed.
Nothing.
Lois looked at not-our Lois, who had followed her and saw the hopelessness she felt reflecting back at her. They went back to Clark.
They gave him the revolver and the remote control. “Can you destroy these?”
He did. Slowly and stutteringly.
“There’s lead the whole way along there,” he said, indicating the corridor wall opposite the penthouse. “Whatever Tempus was doing, he went to a lot of effort to make sure Superman couldn’t watch him.”
“Pity he doesn’t know all that effort is now protecting you,” Lois said. “He appreciates irony.”
“And not just me.” Clark staggered to his feet and stood, hands on knees, breathing deeply. He straightened. “Stand back.”
His heat vision was sporadic, but he managed to cut a large rectangular piece out of the wall. He removed the plasterboard and reached into the wall cavity. He peeled out a strip of lead lining and hesitated, breathing hard.
“Can you carry this?” he said to them. “Go and put it over Superman.”
They took it. It was incredibly heavy for its size. Together they manoeuvred the lead strip through the door, across the room and between the green glowing bars. By reaching into the cage, they were able to position the lead over half of Superman’s body.
Back in the corridor, Clark had another strip ready for them.
Five minutes later both lead strips were placed, somewhat haphazardly, across the unmoving form in blue and red.
On their way back to Clark, Lois saw the pale, green capsule and picked it up. She threw it into the fire.
Clark was leaning against the wall when they got back. “Done?” he asked.
Lois nodded, aching to hold him. She rested a chaste hand on his arm.
“Good. I have an idea, but we’re going to have to do it together.”
“What shall we do?”
“Bring all the bedding, sheets, towels, anything strong out here. I’ll tie them together and you can tie one end to the top of the cage.”
“You’re going pull it over?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Will you be strong enough?”
“We’re going to find out.”
In the penthouse, not-our Lois said, “The bedroom’s this way.” Lois tore the bedding from the bed. She took the pile to the corridor. Not-our Lois added a bundle of towels and spare linen.
Clark tied the materials end to end. He picked up one end. “This is a half-hitch,” he said, demonstrating. “Put enough of the sheet around the top of the cage to do at least three of these knots.”
Lois nodded and took the end. “I’ll do it,” she said. “Lois, you check on Tempus. Take the branding iron. If he looks as if he’s moved, use it again.”
Lois took the end of the sheet to the cage. Superman, under the lead coverings, hadn’t moved. She climbed onto a chair and tied the sheet to the top of the cage.
“Done,” she called.
“Get right out of the way.”
Both Loises stood behind the cage.
“Ready?” Clark called.
“Yes.”
Lois saw the sheet rope lift and begin to stretch. It strained and Lois held her breath, hoping the knots would hold. The top of the cage bowed, the side lifted. Slightly. A little more.
Not-our Lois scuttled to the cage and dived under the raised side and into the cage. The sheet rope loosened and the cage crashed down, missing her by a sliver.
“Lois!” Lois ran to the cage. “What were you doing? If the cage had fallen on you, it would’ve killed you.”
She looked up defiantly. “You never jump first, think second?”
“No! Ok, maybe. But -“
She remembered Clark and ran into the corridor. She ran to him. “Superman, are you ok?”
He wasn’t. He was slumped on the floor, breathing heavily. She took him into her arms and held him closely. She cradled his head against her body, stroking his shoulders and neck with her fingertips and kissing his forehead. He nudged her away. “Lois will see,” he said.
“No she won’t. She’s in the cage.”
“She’s what?”
“She dove in when the side was up.”
“What if the cage had dropped on her?” he said with as much force as he could muster.
“That’s what I said to her.”
He grinned weakly. “Now do you see what it’s like? Working with Lois Lane?”
She gathered him close again, her hands busy on his neck, shoulders, anywhere she could reach. She tipped his head a little and kissed his lips.
“I near... nearly had it over,” he said.
“I know.”
“By the time I get my strength back, it’ll be too late for Clark.”
“Lois can get the bullet out. Then, with the lead covering him, we’ll have more time.”
He smiled. “Any chance you can find her a letter opener?”
She kissed him again. “I can try.”
Back in the penthouse, not-our Lois had shaped the lead strips so Superman was completely covered. “He’s alive,” she said. “He has a pulse. Weak, but it’s there.”
“We need to get the bullet out,” Lois told her.
Not-our Lois blanched. “Now?’
Lois nodded. “Now.”
“But I wouldn’t know how to. And I’d have to move the lead out of the way.”
“Only for a minute or two. Then you could put the lead back on, and with the bullet out, he’ll get minimal further exposure to the Kryptonite. I don’t know how much more he can take.”
“Moving the lead is a bad idea.”
“We’ve always thought Kryptonite can kill Superman. If we don’t get that bullet out now, today could be the day we find out for sure.”
“I think we should leave him be,” not-our Lois said stubbornly.
“So you’ve done Kryptonite 101?”
“No.”
“Neither have I. But the bullet has to come out.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“It’s ok,” Lois said. “I’ve done it before.”
“You’ve taken a Kryptonite bullet out of Superman?” she asked incredulously.
“With a letter opener.”
She swallowed. “A letter opener.”
Lois ran into the study, found a letter opener and brought it back. She handed it to not-our Lois and knelt next to the cage. She reached in and grasped a strip of lead. “I’ll pull this off. You find the wound. Get the bullet out. Give it to me, then pull the lead back in place.
“Get the bullet out?” she repeated shakily. “You make it sound simple.”
“It is. At least he’s unconscious. Superman watched me when I did it.”
Not-our Lois nodded, clearly apprehensive about what was ahead.
“It’s ok. You’ll do fine. Ready?”
She nodded again.
Lois pulled back the lead sheet and not-our Lois leant closer. Lois held her breath, watching the concentration on her face. After what seemed like a long time, not-our Lois reached in and extracted the green bullet. She handed it to Lois and covered Superman with the lead sheets.
“What now?” said not-our Lois, pale and leaning heavily against the green bars.
“Now we have time for Superman to recover a little. You did really well.” She gestured to the still-slumped Tempus. “If he moves, scream loudly.”
She put down the bullet and went back into the corridor. Clark had gone. The end of the sheet rope disappeared into the elevator.
“Superman,” she called.
The elevator doors opened fully and he emerged, still pallid, but definitely improving.
She held him closely, her arms clenched under his cape. “Did she get it out?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I knew she would.” His hand moved to her head, cupping her closer into his shoulder. “I need this,” he murmured. “I need you.”
She sighed, drawing immense comfort from the steady beat of his heart.
“I have another idea,” he said.
“Uhm?”
“I’ve put the elevator on the floor below. I’ve tied the end of the sheets to the top of the elevator car. We’ll lower the elevator and I’ll push and the combined force might be enough to pull the cage over.”
“That’s brilliant,” she said. “Except for one thing.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to move from here. Not ever.” She felt him chuckle. “What if someone else uses the elevator?”
“I put an ‘out of order’ sign on it.”
Lois backed away from the warmth of his chest. “Let’s do it then, but first...”
“Yeah?”
“Can you pull off another piece of the lead lining? Just a small bit. About the size of a handkerchief.”
He did and gave it to her. She went into the penthouse and carefully enclosed the bullet in the lead lining. She took it back to him. “It’s the bullet. When you’re strong enough, you can toss it into space.”
“Thanks. Beats leaving it here.”
Clark reached into the interior of the bared wall and snapped a horizontal block of timber from the frame. He forced the elevator doors further open and wedged the block of wood between them. “Go down to the 20th floor, hit the down button, then get out. Quickly.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Yes,” he said, although she could tell the confidence in his voice was for her benefit. “I need to be there. I’m not sure if the elevator by itself will be enough to topple the cage, nor if the sheets will hold.”
“Clark –“
He put his hands on her shoulders. “We *have* to get Clark out. Even with the lead, we can’t wait until I’m strong enough to pull over the cage by myself.”
“I know.”
He kissed her and she watched him jump into the elevator shaft. “Stay well back,” he called.
She ran into the penthouse. “Lois?” she said.
“Yes?”
“We’re going to use the elevator to pull over the cage. I have to go, but I’ll be back to help you get Superman out of here.”
