Chapter Nine
Lois hated standing in line for anything. It reminded her of college registration, where incoming freshmen always got to the tables in the lobby early in the day and had to stand around waiting for the registrar to call their names. It was like the hurry-up-and-wait deal Claude had complained about from his hitch in the French Army. And waiting in line to board the colonial transport was nerve-wracking, knowing that at any moment someone might recognize her or realize she shouldn’t be where she was, doing what she was doing.
Today, however, there was something else bothering her that wouldn’t go away, wouldn’t be silent. Every time she stopped in place, Clark Kent popped up in her mind. She wouldn’t have minded if the image she had of him was the one from his hotel room, the one with the towel around his rock-hard waist, but no, her mind was determined to chew on the inconsistencies he kept shoving at her.
He looked like a body builder and moved like a dancer, yet he ate like an overweight eleven-year-old with a dozen sweet teeth. He was shy and self-effacing, yet he came up with insights and information no rookie should even think about coming up with. He didn’t brag about his strength like other men, but she’d seen his chest and shoulders and the sight of that door at the EPRAD hangar flying across the room kept playing in her mind. And he couldn’t be so dumb as to just leap into a room with armed bad guys in it. He’d had some kind of edge he wouldn’t or couldn’t use for some reason. Did he carry a gun? Was he a wanted fugitive somewhere? Was he some kind of martial arts expert who didn’t want to be recognized?
The line shifted again and she moved forward seven inches.
What about those chains he’d worked out of? Missing link? Was he kidding? Even if Baines hadn’t known how to secure a prisoner, that silent muscle man had to have known. Kent should not have been able to free them from that hangar.
And how had they ended up in the only mud puddle around big enough for all three of them? Even if their clothes had caught fire, the water in the puddle would have put them out. That was too lucky for words. And the distance they’d traveled was too far to be blown there without all of them suffering serious injuries, yet none of them had gotten as much as a scratch from that landing.
Speaking of landings, the day he’d fallen down and ruined his suit and that guy had been saved from the sewer cave-in, Clark’s story hadn’t – wait, he’d never told her just how he’d ruined his clothes. He’s looked – and smelled – like he’d been in a sewer. And he’d dodged a number of questions about how he’d done the things he’d done, like his ‘taxi’ answer outside the hangar and his non-answer about how he maintained his Atlas-like physique.
No, there was something really, really odd about Clark Kent. Too many things didn’t fit. He had some kind of secret, something he was hiding. But she’d figure it out.
After she filed the story about the transport launch, that is.
*****
I sat at my mother’s kitchen table, sipping fresh country coffee. “How’s it going in there, Mom?”
“Almost finished with the last one. Are you sure you don’t have any preferences you want to share with me?”
I think I laughed. “You’re kidding, right? After you spent all that time on them, now I’m going to give you my opinion? Besides, you’re the famous artist, not me.”
She came back in the room and smiled. “I wish your father could have seen this day. I bet he’d be so proud of you.”
“I don’t know, Mom. He constantly warned me about being dissected like a frog in a lab if I let people know what I could do, remember?”
She flopped down with a sigh in the chair next to mine. “Yes, I remember. But I also remember how his chest would bulge out whenever he told one of his friends about your latest grades or how your football team had won another game or how high you ranked in your college class.” She shook her head. “Not one of his friends had a son or nephew who accomplished as much as you did while still so young.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Well, we really don’t know how long I’m supposed to live, remember? I might run out of steam in a few months or so.”
She patted my arm and smiled. “You haven’t lost a step for years, and I’ll bet my latest masterpiece that you won’t for a long time yet. Now come on and let’s try on some of my latest creations.”
“I hope they do the job. If I have an effective disguise, I won’t have to worry about people finding out about me.”
“We won’t know until we take a look.” She stood and held her hand out to me. “I’m really proud of a couple of them.”
“Just a couple of them? The others are duds?”
“No, they’re – wait, that’s a pun, right? Of course it is! ‘Duds’ also being clothing! Very cute! The famous writer made a pun! How droll!”
She was letting me have that one, so I had to try on all of the outfits she’d made.
*****
Green tights with a leopard-patterned long-sleeve shirt? With studded wristbands? Ew. And was this a belt or a bandolier? Was I a hunter or a idiotic-looking model?
“Mom, I’m just not sure about this one.”
“That’s okay, honey, I wasn’t sure either. I just wanted to give you plenty of choices.”
*****
Green and blue shirt with a blue cap and – what were those yellow things, horns or wings? And I definitely didn’t want to wear a mask, even if it reduced the chances that someone would recognize me. I was going to be different enough, so I didn’t want to appear to be hiding. Besides, a mask might catch fire if I used my heat vision and it wasn’t on just right.
“I don’t know, Mom, it doesn’t really say what I have in my head.”
She nodded. “Take it off and you can try on the next one.”
*****
Crimson. Yech.
I looked back over my shoulder and the mirror showed me a guy who was either a giant raspberry popsicle or a gay pride marcher.
“Mom – “
Her hand flew up and she sighed. “Don’t say it. We’ll try the next one.”
*****
Primary blue with red and yellow highlights. That was closer, but I still looked like a billboard for a girdle company.
“This one’s very good, Mom, but maybe too busy in the middle?”
She stood back and frowned in thought. “Let me take another whack at this one.”
*****
I could tell she was close to the end of her endurance. “What about that one?” she called from the living room.
It was much better than the others, including the one where I looked like a supersonic Robin Hood. I walked out and stood in front of the mirror next to her. “I like the cape. And the colors are vibrant and direct, but simple. No complex patterns, either. I like that.”
She elbowed me in the ribs. “Told you I was a world-famous artist.”
I turned, trying to get a sense of how I’d look to others. And I found that I really liked it. I wasn’t real thrilled with the briefs on the outside of my pants, but they matched up well with the red boots and actually completed the lower half of the outfit. I just had to remember to wear a cup under them.
I stood tall and looked at her in the mirror. “Well? What do you think?”
An impish grin grew from her mouth. “Well, one thing’s for sure. Nobody’s gonna be looking at your face.”
“Mom!” I was shocked that my mother would say such a thing! And to her son!
She burst out in a giggling chuckle. “They don’t call ‘em tights for nothing!”
I wanted to be mad or embarrassed, but she hugged me and I forgot all about it. Then she lifted her hand to her mouth and said, “I don’t know – there’s something – missing. Something should be – “
She suddenly spun and dove under the bed, then came up with an old suitcase. “This was your father’s when he shipped out to Korea,” she said.
Then she opened the case and lifted out a blue blanket. “And this is the baby blanket we found you in so long ago.” Then she picked up a triangle of material and held it up. “And – this.”
It looked like a red stylized ‘S’ on a field of yellow bordered in red. It dawned on me that she wanted to put it on the front of the outfit. I almost declined, but then I realized that she was right, the outfit did need something else on it. Besides, the suitcase had been Dad’s, and anything in it held a lot of significance to her. So I nodded. “How long will it take you to get the symbol on the shirt?”
“Not long, maybe ten minutes. Why don’t you go watch TV until I’m finished?”
“No, I’ll wait here.”
Then I remembered why people wouldn’t be looking at my face. “On second thought, I’ll be back in about ten minutes. I need to – to go pick up a little something.”
*****
I modeled it for her again – with the additional hidden accessory – and she loved it. Of course, I did too. “Oh, I wish your father were here! He’d be so thrilled!”
I still wasn’t convinced of that, but I let it pass. It’s not polite to argue with your mother, especially when she’s just sewn a superhero outfit for you. “I’m just glad you didn’t come up with something black or gray, like Batman’s suit is supposed to be. I’d rather wear the leopard-print than anything that dark.”
“Well, you’re going to be a hero for the light, not the darkness. You need to be easily seen and easily recognized. And I love the way the cape turned out! It’ll look great when you’re flying.”
I turned once more. “This should do it.” Then I reached up and pulled off my glasses. Without them over my eyes and my hair fixed different, it should fool any casual man or woman on the street. “That’s it, Mom. This is my new outfit.” I gave her a hug and lifted her off the floor. “Thank you so much! You’re an absolute lifesaver!”
She laughed over my shoulder. “Put me down! Thank you. Now all we have to do is figure out when and where you make your debut.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but we can wait on that. Why don’t we watch the colonists’ shuttle launch? It’s supposed to take off in just a few minutes.”
*****
The PA system was alive with constant status reports and updates on this and that, all things which Lois ignored as she tried to look like she was supposed to be where she was. She handed her boarding pass to the shuttle entry guard – it was just a piece of firm paper with no description, photograph, or identifying marks on it, no security at all – and stepped inside the hatchway.
This was it! There were only minutes to go before the launch. And she was in the perfect position to report on it. Things were going as smoothly as if she’d been officially cleared to board.
As she stepped inside and moved away from the flow of the real colonists, the PA announced, “T minus three minutes. Three minutes to launch.”
Not much time. She needed to find a place to sit where she wouldn’t be crushed by the G-forces the launch would generate. Maybe the compartment where she was hiding would be a good place.
She closed and bolted the hatch and looked around. Sure enough, there was a fold-out seat against the wall where she could strap in. As she unlatched it, someone on the PA announced that “The umbilical cord attached to the liquid fuel booster has been disengaged and secured. T minus one minute and counting.”
The seat folded down and revealed several restraining straps. As she tried to figure out what strap held what part of her down, a beeping noise drew her attention.
That didn’t sound right.
The beeping was coming from a small box attached to the wall.
It didn’t look right, either.
Upon closer inspection, the box revealed itself to be a bomb.
A BOMB?!?
There was a bomb on the shuttle! A digital timer embedded in enough plastic explosive to knock out the shuttle and send it crashing back to earth in a fiery death for everyone aboard and anyone unlucky enough to be under the wreck. As she yanked open the compartment door and yelled for help, she felt the booster engines fire.
Too late to get off the shuttle and she had to stop them! Not only did she not want to die, she didn’t want the space program to fail. She yelled again but no one came.
There wasn’t enough time to wait for help and the bomb was firmly affixed to the wall of the compartment. It wouldn’t come off. She grabbed a pair of snips from a tool locker and started cutting electrical wires behind a maintenance hatch on the same wall as the bomb, hoping to get someone to help her. Failing that, maybe she could at least stop the launch craft from falling out of the sky and killing all those people.
The vibration from the engines increased. All she could do was keep cutting and keep hoping. Even if she never reported this story, she wouldn’t let people die if she could help it.
*****
Mom leaned against my shoulder as we watched the countdown on the TV. “There she blows, honey. I remember when the three of us watched the first moon landing. You sat in your father’s lap and clapped and bounced like there was nothing better in the world. When you finally went to bed, you told us you wanted to be just like Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin.” She smiled and sighed. “And now we’re going to have an entire colony of humans actually living and working in space!”
I nodded and hugged her. “It is wonderful. And it gives me some hope.”
She patted my chest. “I know, you wish you could find your people. I wish you could, too.”
“It’s okay. I think I came out on top on the deal, having you and Dad as parents.”
She turned misty eyes to me. “Thank you, Clark. That’s one of the nicest things you’ve said to me. And you’ve said a lot of nice things to this old lady over the years.”
I was about to say something else nice when I heard something from the TV. The announcer repeated, “EPRAD has halted the countdown. There seems to be a problem with the electrical systems feeding power to the life support system in the main cabin. It’s almost as if – wait, there’s something – did someone just use the word ‘sabotage’ from the control floor?”
I’m sure Mom said something to me, but I wasn’t there to hear it. Whatever outfit I was wearing was about to get its public debut. Fleetingly, I hoped that the belt on the briefs held up while I was flying.
*****
Lois felt the booster engines settle back and shut off. Good, she thought. At least if the bomb blows up it won’t do it in the air. The colonists will have a better chance to survive.
She resumed pulling at the bomb, but her best efforts were for naught. If she’d had more time, maybe the screwdriver could have separated the timer from the C4 it was embedded in, but she didn’t have any time.
And maybe she didn’t have enough time to get away now.
Her only hope was for someone who had some idea of what to do to come in the compartment and help her. Someone with some training or expertise in bomb disposal would be best, but at this point she’d take help from anyone.
Even this guy in the blue tights wearing a – a red cape? Who was this guy, a circus clown? Or maybe one of those desperate weirdos who stood out at the street and held up signs to attract drivers into their businesses? Or maybe an escaped maniac?
Whoever he was, he looked vaguely familiar –
And then the maniac yanked off the timer and started rooting around inside the housing. “Hey!” she yelled. “Get away from that! Do you have any idea – “
He pulled out what looked like a detonator and –
“What are you doing? That’s a bomb! You could set it off doing that!”
Then he swallowed it.
Lois knew that her last sight was going to be this idiot’s insides splashing all over her. What a way to die, covered in someone else’s intestines. She almost laughed as the bomb exploded inside his stomach and –
And –
And – nothing.
His cheeks bulged and he belched and he patted his chest twice and said “Excuse me.”
That was it. She was dead and this was a post-traumatic death hallucination. It would slowly fade and there’d be a bright light and she’d move toward it and –
And – nothing. Again.
She focused on this – this wannabe Blue Man as her vision grayed at the edges and then sharpened again. She reached out and touched him with one hand. Solid, and therefore real. She pinched her other hand and felt the sharp pain. Apparently she wasn’t dead.
“Who – what – who are you?”
He smiled and turned away.
That smile – something familiar –
She followed him out of the room into the corridor of the shuttle. The colonists were coming back from their launch couches with stricken looks on their faces. Then he stopped in front of Amy Platt and her wheelchair with his hands on his hips. Despite the circumstances – or maybe because of them – Lois was impressed.
“There was a bomb,” she said. “He – he – ate it.”
Those who looked at her clearly didn’t believe her. She didn’t mind. She’d seen it and she didn’t believe her.
Then the man smiled at Amy and said, “Hi.”
“Hi,” returned the girl. “I like your costume.”
“Thank you,” he said. “My mother made it for me.”
This guy has a mother? Wow, mused Lois, I’d hate to be her daughter-in-law. She must be a holy terror.
The man in blue and red said, “What’s your name?”
“Amy. Amy Platt. Who are you?”
“I’m – a friend.”
No name? thought Lois. Or is that he doesn’t want us to know it? But if that’s true, why is he dressed like a neon traffic light?
Amy smiled. “Can you teach me how to fly?”
“Not fly. But once this lab is operational, maybe you could walk. That’s very possible.”
A woman’s voice came over the PA. “Attention colonists. The mission has been scrubbed. Prepare to disembark.”
The colonists’ faces drooped even more. A man standing behind Amy said, “That’s it, then. It’s all over.”
“Why?” Lois asked. As she spoke, she realized that she’d just blown her cover. If she’d been a real colonist, she’d have known what the guy was talking about.
Melody Platt said, “Once the thrusters have been fired, they have to be replaced.”
The man who’d spoken earlier added, “We lose our launch window.” He sighed heavily. “We’ll just have to forget about Space Station Prometheus.”
A chorus of moans arose. Then the garishly dressed man said, “No. You don’t. There’s nothing wrong with this transport vehicle or the station. You only need to get there.”
Lois waited for someone to ask the obvious question, but no one did, so she did. “How are they supposed to do that?”
“Easy. I’ll give them a boost.”
He opened the main exit, then turned around. “Is there anyone on board who’s not supposed to be here?” No one spoke. “Anyone at all?”
Lois wasn’t going to confess. She glanced at Melody Platt, but the woman just smiled. Then the man – she had to find out his name, she couldn’t just keep calling him ‘the man,’ even in her head – looked straight at her. “How about you, ma’am?”
“What? Who, me?”
“Yes. What’s your specialty?”
He would ask that. “Um – historian?” The man’s eyebrows lifted. “I’m – I’m chronicling the voyage.”
It sounded lame, but maybe she could bluff him out.
“Where’s your acceleration couch? What level and what compartment?”
“Er – “ Nuts. She was busted.
He gave her a stern look. “You were in that access room. It’s a good thing you were there, because you found that bomb, but you might not have survived the launch sitting in a jump seat. At the very least you were risking serious spinal injuries.”
“Oh.” There wasn’t much else she could say.
“Please come with me, Miss – say, what is your name?”
“Lois Lane.”
“Very well, Miss Lane. If you’ll just wait outside and let the real colonists secure the outer hatch, I’ll see what I can do about sending them on their way.”
There was nothing else to do but follow his instructions. As Lois watched in awe from the gantry crane, the man stood under the booster engines and looked up at them intently. Then he floated up –
Her mind shut off for a moment. The guy swallows explosives and floats. It was almost too much to take in.
Then she realized that there was a breeze that hadn’t been there before. The launch vehicle, which had been a windbreak for her, was now lifting off the launch pad as if by magic. And the guy’s red cape was flapping majestically in the wind.
It wasn’t possible.
But it was happening.
This was some story! It was almost as good as – no, it was better than the one she’d expected! And it was an exclusive! Wait until Perry saw her copy! He’d tell some Elvis story that –
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
She turned to see two burly men in security uniforms standing on the walkway. This didn’t look good.
“Yes?”
“Ma’am, you need to come with us, please.”
“But I’m watching the – “
“Right now.” The guard exhaled. “Please.”
Oh, well, thought Lois, it would be a good sidebar on the state of EPRAD’s security.
*****
As I flew toward the Daily Planet with Lois in my arms, I thought about other times when I’d held a beautiful woman. There was Rachel, of course, and Lana, who was still beautiful even if she’d gained quite a bit of weight with her babies, and Aduke, the Nigerian princess who’d taught me ballroom dancing, and Tracy, the woman in Maine who’d wanted to marry me two years ago, and Miriam, the wild and free Australian girl I’d met in the Philippines, but none of them could hold a candle to Lois Lane.
I realized that she was having a little trouble breathing, so I slowed down and lost some altitude. “Sorry. I’m not used to carrying passengers.”
She let go with one hand and brushed her hair back. “No problem. I’m not used to being this kind of passenger, so I guess we’re even on that score.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that, so I just smiled.
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
She frowned. It reminded me of the frown she’d given me at the headline party when I’d told her she could trust me. Even when she frowned, she was beautiful. “For everything, actually, but specifically for getting me out of the clutches of EPRAD’s security people. They don’t blink.”
That sounded like a non sequitur. “Excuse me?”
“When I’m dealing with somebody in the Metropolis police or fire department or the DA’s office, I can usually get what I want just by staring at them. I stare, they stare back, and the first one to blink loses.”
I nodded. “I see. And the EPRAD people don’t blink?”
“Not a bit. I think they’ve had that capability surgically removed.”
I managed not to laugh out loud. “I’m sorry it took so long to rendezvous with Prometheus and that you were in there with them for most of the day.”
She shrugged. “No problem. Now I have a terrific sidebar for my story.”
“Sidebar?” It was a bit lame, pretending that I didn’t know what she was talking about, but maybe I could distance this person – whoever he was – from Clark Kent, at least a little bit.
“It’s a companion piece to a larger story, usually fits in one column on one page. It usually details or further explains something mentioned in the main story.”
I nodded as if I’d just learned something. “Got it.”
She smiled and looked forward again. “I can’t wait to get to the Planet. Could you come up to the news floor with me? I’m not sure my editor will believe me if he doesn’t see you himself.”
I smiled. “I think I can do a little better than that.”
*****
Lois tried to look suave and debonair and nonchalant as the man in red and blue blew open the doors to the Planet’s upper observation deck and floated through it carrying her in his arms. She could see Perry’s face – he’d been stunned into silence for once in his life – and Jimmy’s reaction – he was trying very hard not to jump up and down in place as he snapped photo after photo – and Cat’s open-mouthed attempt not to laugh hysterically as they settled gently on the middle of the newsroom floor.
Everyone moved aside as they landed. He set her down on her feet as gently as she might lower a kitten to a pillow at bedtime, then looked into her face as if searching for something he hoped he wouldn’t find. What that might be, Lois didn’t know, and at the moment she didn’t much care.
She heard Cat mutter, “I don’t believe it.”
“What, a man who flies?” asked a co-worker.
“No. Lois Lane, literally swept off her feet. It’s – it’s fantastic! In every sense of the word, it’s simply fantastic!”
She’d fill Cat in later. Right now, she wanted to memorize every line in this incredible man’s face, every curve of his shoulders, every twinkle in his eye, every tilt of his warm smile. And she was tantalized by the feeling that she’d seen him before somewhere. It felt like a recent memory, too, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
The man smiled again – he really had a killer smile to go along with those fabulous shoulders and chest and waist and – stop drooling, Lois, you horn dog! He turned to go, but Lois touched his elbow to stop him. “I think – considering the fact that I saw you first – that I was the first one to see you, that is – you owe me an exclusive interview.”
“You mean, in addition to the one we had in the air just now?”
“Well – that was hardly a proper interview, now was it?”
“I suppose not. Is that the rule, Ms. Lane?”
She smiled back, happy that he was still willing to banter with her. “No. But – I’d appreciate it. Very much.”
“In that case, I’ll be glad to give you a proper interview.” He turned to go.
And he floated up toward the doors where they’d entered. “Wait a minute!” she shouted. “How will I find you?”
He looked back over his shoulder, his face somehow stern and inviting at the same time. “I’ll be around.”
Then he was gone out the window, flying over the city.
Cat ran up behind her and asked, “Did you find out what the ‘S’ stands for?”
“What?”
“The ‘S’ on his chest. That’s what it looks like to me, anyway.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess it does. Huh. Maybe – super?”
Cat’s voice dripped sarcasm. “The guy’s name is Super?”
Lois came out of her reverie. “Super? No – it’s – he’s a super man – Superman?” She turned to Cat and announced. “That’s it! His name is Superman!”
“That’s what he told you?”
“No! He said he was a friend and that he was here to help! I’m naming him Superman!”
Cat shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what you – “
“Jimmy! How many usable shots did you get?”
“Huh? Oh! At least ten, maybe fifteen.”
“Great! Get them developed as soon as you can. Perry, I’ll have the eyewitness story of how Superman saved the colonists’ transport on your desk in an hour! I know it’s too late for the evening edition, but it’ll work great for tomorrow morning’s page one!”
“Of course it will, Lois, but – “
“And we can still slide a photo and teaser caption into tonight’s edition! Take care of that, will you?”
“Hey, Lois, who do you think runs this – “
“Cat, come with me! I need your point of view for a couple of sidebars.”
“Sure, Lois. Anything you – “
Lois turned to the crowd around her and clapped her hands twice. “Come on, people! Get back to work! We’ve got a newspaper to print!”
Behind her, she heard her boss call out, “Hey, that’s my line!”
“One hour, Perry! Look for my story in your inbox! It’s going to be great!”
“Of course it will,” she heard him sigh.
She was in her element, reporting the news as it happened and telling the public the truth about everything. The only thing that would have made it better would have been having Clark beside her to –
To do what? Write? She could do that by herself. To hold her hand? She absolutely didn’t need him doing that. To edit her copy? No way. She told herself that Lois Lane needed a man like a fish needed a bicycle.
Yet her partner’s absence bothered her, as if her life were out of balance unless she knew where he was and what he was doing. She’d known him less than a week, and already he was like an irritated tooth her tongue wouldn’t leave alone.
Echh. That was a metaphor she wanted to remember.
A determined frown grew on her face. She’d ponder the state of Clark Kent versus the universal equilibrium later. At the moment, she had work to do.
