Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Wrong Clark (192/???)

Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

If you need to refresh your memory on what happened last time on "As the Cape Flaps...", please check out Part 191.

***

Part 192

Inspector Henderson closed his mobile phone. Officer Jones, whom he had sent to watch the comings and goings at EPRAD that morning, had called to let him know that Superman had just lifted off carrying a space shuttle.

Well, how about that.

Bill had to hand it to Ms. Lane. He hadn’t thought she could pull it off. Apparently, she could get Kent to do anything. Good thing she was on the side of justice…Well, usually. Of course, maybe Bill had the scenario completely backwards. Perhaps Kent had somehow bamboozled Ms. Lane to go into space to keep her safe from Luthor, and he only made her think it was her idea. If he had, then Kent had even more super human abilities to be envied. Either way, Bill was happy to have both of them up there rather than two reporters down here getting in his way.

He shook his head, feeling sorry for those hundred colonists up on the Space Station. Lois Lane was an accident waiting to happen. Too bad she couldn’t have taken Kent with her for the entire time she was gone. Heaven knew she was going to need Kent’s help at some point when she turned the wrong knob and opened the space hatch or something. Bill chuckled. Thankfully, she was no longer his problem.

He slid his phone into his jacket pocket and headed for the main doors of Lex Tower.

“Inspector!”

Bill paused. Turning, he saw the kid Luthor had framed for the Daily Planet’s explosion. “What are you doing here, Mr. Olsen?”

Jimmy Olsen held up his camera. “I hear you might have some exclusive photos for me,” he said with a sly grin.

Bill scowled. He knew Lane would do something to gum up the works. She just couldn’t give him one day off from her meddling, could she? He grabbed the kid’s arm and dragged him through the doors and into the lobby. “Are you nuts? There are still tabloid reporters hanging around outside just waiting for some new scoop on the Luthor story. If you’ve blown this sky high…” he growled under his breath.

“So, it’s true?” Olsen asked, slipping his camera back into his bag and lowering his voice. “He’s still alive? How is that possible?”

How do you know about that? Bill wanted to ask, knowing Lane’s tight lips. However, with her off planet, maybe she had passed the exclusive to Olsen here. That seemed more likely than her actually passing the lead to a competent reporter. He glanced around and pushed Olsen into the elevator leading down to Luthor’s private garage. At least, he hadn’t seen Catherine Grant nosing around. She had asked to be present at the opening of Luthor’s bunker as well and, oopsy-daisy, Bill had forgotten to call her. When had his law enforcement job been turned into one in media relations?

He couldn’t believe how many delays had popped up. Since he had discovered Luthor might still be alive, Bill had needed to find an honorable judge willing to issue an order to allow the destruction of the LexCorp property to search for a possibly alive suspect on only the word of Henderson’s material witness (currently safely being launched into space by her boyfriend) and her improbable mad science hypothesis, which had been independently verified by S.T.A.R. Labs. The logistical nightmare of working with the FBI, who was supposed to be handling most of it but who also didn’t believe a word that came out of Lane’s mouth, independent proof or otherwise, was just icing on Henderson’s already bitterly sweet cake.

Bill was amazed it wasn’t all over the news by now, leaked by someone on the judge’s staff, another rotten cop on Luthor’s payroll, or maybe even some press-hungry junior FBI agent. It gave him faith that law enforcement could do covert raids without the media getting wind of it. Well, media outside of what was left of the Daily Planet staff, that was.

The elevator doors opened to Luthor’s parking garage and, lo and behold, standing right outside of them was one Catherine Grant, holding a cup of hot tea.

“Morning, Inspector,” she purred as he snarled and shoved Olsen towards her. “Oh. Jimmy!” Her smile turned to a seductive grin. “Why, Inspector, you brought me a going-away gift, too? You shouldn’t have.”

Bill pointed a finger at both of them. “I don’t know how you got in here,” he said to Catherine, “or what you’re doing here, Olsen, but you better stay out of our way.”

“You’re here to photograph my story for me, aren’t you?” Catherine stated to Olsen.

Olsen shrugged. “Sure. So, what’s the story?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” she mumbled to her cohort, hushing him, before returning her gaze to Bill. “Don’t worry, Bill. We’re staying right here.”

“We are?” Jimmy Olsen gasped.

“Yep,” she announced with a nod of her head.

Bill had to admit that her compliancy was a bit disconcerting. He decided to double check that he heard her correctly. He pointed to the floor beneath their feet. “Here?”

“Yes,” Catherine repeated.

“Why?” Olsen asked, taking the question out of Bill’s mouth.

“Because, unlike Lois, I’m not willing to risk my life catapulting five hundred meters down an elevator shaft,” she replied. “Anyway, you’ll be bringing everyone up through this door, won’t you?”

“Everyone?” Henderson stammered in bafflement. “Everyone who? There’s only Luthor.”

Catherine took a sip of her tea and winked at him. “If you say so, Bill.”

Bill threw up his hands in defeat as he marched towards the wine cellar. Reporters! He could live without the lot of them.

*

Cat nudged Jimmy and nodded for him to follow the Inspector. “Better get going,” she said.

“But you said we’d be staying here,” Jimmy replied.

“We as in me. You need to get closer and get me the first-hand details and photos. I’m going to catch people as they come out and interview them,” Cat informed him, and then lowered her voice. “Oh, if you see anything glowing green, avoid it. It’s poisonous.”

Jimmy swallowed. “Poisonous?”

Cat waved off his worries. “I peeked down into the wine cellar when I first arrived. It’s a mess. Wine bottles spilled all over the floor. The power is patchy, flashing on and off. They had to bring in a generator just to have some temporary lighting. It looks like a scene straight out of a monster movie.”

“Frankenstein perhaps,” Jimmy said, keeping an eye on Inspector Henderson. The policeman had stopped to talk to some other suits several yards away and didn’t look to be heading anywhere any time soon.

Cat raised a brow. “Good guess, but Luthor’s monster more likely was the one who jumped off his balcony.”

Jimmy’s jaw fell open. “Wait. What? No! Cat. I saw him fall. That was definitely Lex Luthor.”

She scoffed. “Of course that was what he wanted everyone to believe.”

“It was just someone made up to look like Luthor?” Jimmy said in amazement. “Okay, let me get this straight; you think they’ve got the real Lex Luthor cornered in some underground bunker?”

He knew he should have called Perry before leaving Lois’s apartment. CK still hadn’t returned to his apartment when Jimmy stopped by on the way to Lex Tower. At least, CK had called to let the guys know he was spending the morning with Lois and would return sometime during the afternoon.

Jimmy had tossed CK’s letter from Lois on his bed and told the Miner brothers to tell CK to meet him over at Lex Tower as soon as he returned. Jack had wanted to accompany him, but Jimmy knew he would be lucky to stumble across an exclusive on his own as it was. In fact, he was planning to just lie in wait for the FBI to bring Luthor out of the door of Lex Tower and get a photo of him there. Then, he just happened to have spotted Henderson and apparently knew enough to BS his way down to the inner sanctum.

“I see you’re well-informed,” Cat said, more impressed with him than he’d ever seen her be before.

Now that he had Jenny and wasn’t mooning over Cat like some lovesick calf, Cat must actually see his potential. This investigative reporting gig wasn’t too difficult. It seemed mostly smoke and mirrors, bluffing your way into places and making people think you knew more than you do, so that they’ll tell you what they knew. If he could get the writing part down, he might have another job under his belt.

“I hope you have lots of film. I don’t know how many people Luthor has down there with him, but we’ll want to get a shot of everyone who comes up, just in case,” Cat said softly, glancing around.

Good thing Jimmy always kept his camera bag stocked while at the Planet. He hoped Jimbo hadn’t used his camera while he was in jail.

“From everyone’s attitude and the lack of officers present, I’m guessing most of the police assume he’s alone,” Cat continued.

Jimmy looked around Luthor’s garage. He saw over thirty cops or plain-clothes suits. This was a ‘lack of personnel’?

Inspector Henderson opened the door to the wine cellar that Cat had pointed out to Jimmy, so with a quick wave to Cat, he followed him, pulling his camera from his bag. He needed to conserve film and couldn’t take pictures of everything he spotted in case he needed it for when they brought Luthor out.

Cat wasn’t joking about the horror movie scene that awaited him on the other side of the door. All it lacked was the blood. He understood why she, in her delicate condition, decided to remain in the parking garage.

The room wasn’t brightly lit. Only a few temporary lights had been set up so people wouldn’t fall down the stone steps. Yet, the light that was there had a slight greenish foggy haze to it as if there was something hanging in the air. He shook this thought away; clearly, he had fallen for Cat’s joke about the green light being poisonous. When he reached the bottom, Jimmy realized that the floor was sticky. His shoes made a noise similar to that of a loud tape gun whenever he took a step. Stealthy, he certainly wasn’t.

Remembering Perry’s advice about taking in the whole scene before lining up his initial shot, Jimmy observed his surroundings. He saw that some broken glass had been swept to the side of the room. He deduced that, for some reason, someone had broken several bottles of wine or champagne in the cellar, but nobody had bothered to mop. Above him was a television with a busted out tube. His brow furrowed, and he made a mental note to ask Henderson about why the television had been destroyed.

Over in a corner behind some of the largest wine barrels Jimmy had ever seen was a cage. It didn’t look as if it belonged there, but almost as if it had been pushed out of the way to make room for the lights. His brow furrowed. What was Lex Luthor doing with a cage in his wine cellar? Maybe it wouldn’t be Luthor they’d find down the elevator shaft, but some gorilla.

Jimmy lifted his camera to take a photo of the cage, but then thought better of it. There would be plenty of time later on, after he took shots of Luthor being brought up from below, if Jimmy had any film remaining. He snuck to the far side of the room and peered around a set of large wooden doors and into the second room of the wine cellar. Here he saw more men wearing FBI jackets and vests.

He slipped around the doors and into the corner of the room, where he crouched down, hoping to be unseen by the agents huddled at what appeared to be a doorway. One of the men shifted position and Jimmy could see that they had hooked up some computer to the keypad.

“What are we going to do if Carruthers can’t get the door open? Blast it open?” shouted one of the men with red hair. “If that insane woman is right, and he is down there, he’ll hear us coming.”

Jimmy lifted his camera, focused, and took a ‘before’ photo.

“She was right about the frog DNA, Agent Forest,” Henderson said.

Frog DNA? Jimmy wished he could shoot photos and take notes at the same time, but he would be surprised if he ever forgot that pronouncement.

“Maybe Luthor was into something kinky, or injected himself with essence of frog,” Agent Forest snapped back.

If that were true, and he were injecting such stuff into his veins, Jimmy doubted very much he’d commit suicide, out of fear of the tabloid headlines it would cause. Then, again, it could have made Luthor crazy, or he figured nobody would look for such an anomaly. How did Lois know to look for it? Jimmy had guessed that she was the insane lady the FBI agent was referring to, unless of course, they meant Cat Grant. Maybe the guy hadn’t said ‘insane’, but Miss Lane. Yeah. That made more sense.

“Watch your tongue, Forest,” hissed one of the other men. “You don’t want the SAC to hear you.”

“Got it!” said the man at the computer as the door to the elevator opened up.

Several men moved forward to look through the now open doorway, before shaking their heads and moving back. From his angle, Jimmy couldn’t see what they were looking at. Some other men, wearing FBI vests and what appeared to be rock-climbing harnesses, took their spot at the doorway. They secured the door open, using some type of metal bar. One of them had a glow-stick that he activated and tossed down the shaft. After about a minute, they tossed a second and then a third.

“I can’t see ‘em, can you, Frank?” the first man said.

“Nope,” the man presumably named Frank responded.

“How long’s your cord?” Forest asked.

“A kilometer,” Frank said. “If your source was right, we should have more than enough.” After securing his line, he activated the flashlights attached to his vest. Then he did one last check of his harness, gloves, and radio.

Jimmy snapped another photo.

“How tall is five hundred meters anyway?” Agent Forest asked.

“Over a hundred and fifty stories,” replied Frank.

Forest whistled and then chuckled. “I guess that’s why we’re using the elevator in this grease pit, and not the one in Luthor’s office.”

The team entered the elevator shaft.

***

Clark felt more than heard the click indicating that the shuttle was now attached to the Space Station and he released his hold on the ship. He had been focusing on the silence of space since they had left the Earth’s atmosphere, focusing his anger at Lois on blocking her voice until they were high enough that he would automatically stop hearing her. He didn’t want to listen to her excuses, or lack thereof. He was tired of her lies.

He knew that he who hadn’t revealed all his own secrets shouldn’t be so judgmental. However, his explanation for not telling Lois the truth about Superman had been a noble reason; he had done it to protect her. He couldn’t fathom one justifiable or honorable reason she would use Superman as EPRAD’s rockets without telling him.

Did she not trust EPRAD? Was she afraid that the shuttle was in danger, again? Was she testing him? Could it just be that she wanted him near?

Had any of those reasons been the case, why hadn’t she just told Clark the night before? Why wait for the morning? Not that Clark knew for certain that she had delayed telling him until they were supposed to meet that morning. He was just giving her the benefit of the doubt, despite the fact that she hadn’t earned such consideration.

On the other hand, perhaps she had just been distracted.

They had done more kissing than talking the night before. That was just as much his fault as it was hers. He had just been thrilled… well, at being able to kiss Lois for one. Kissing Lois was always an adrenaline rush as nothing else he had ever experienced was. Secondly, it excited him that he was able to do so at all. He felt more in control of his irrational, emotional side over the past year, and he had Lois to thank. True, he had experienced a minor setback, but he now had confidence that in time he would be able to beat back this foe and progress his relationship with Lois. That had been an unknown before their conversation in the car.

The analytical side of him knew that he should have taken the opportunity afforded him and confronted her about her recent behavior towards him as he had originally planned. However, it felt in bad taste to bring up such things right before her trip. He knew it would be for a long time to come a sore point between them, since Lois didn’t like being told she was wrong, ever, and he was tired of people he cared about disrespecting him.

Unfortunately, one of the biggest hurdles in their relationship so far had been finding the time to discuss important matters thoroughly. How was he supposed to know that her previous behavior towards him was going to escalate within twenty-four hours?

He wondered if he should go and hover outside the viewing room, letting her know by his expression and body language how disappointed he was by her actions. The small chamber with windows, allowing one to look back at Earth, he assumed was a popular spot with everyone when they first arrived on the Station. With space at a minimum on the Station, there was hardly an empty spot on a wall for something as luxurious as a window, so the viewing room was essentially the only location to look outside.

A growing part of him didn’t want to be there when she first gazed out the window. Would she be looking for him and therefore, feel rewarded if he were there? On the other hand, would she be simply too in awe of the sight of the green, blue, and tan marble stretched out before her to notice him? No, he had told her that he wouldn’t run off on her anymore. Not that her current behavior hadn’t earned such pettiness. He would be an adult and honor his promises. Perhaps she would be influenced by his good behavior.

And maybe hippos would start to fly on their own.

Clark finally decided that it wouldn’t be good for any future relationship between them should he let her assume that what she had done was acceptable or would be tolerated by him in the future. He shifted his position and floated towards the viewing room, adopted his stern body language of pinched lips and crossed arms, and waited for Lois to appear. Behind the glass, he saw Amy Platt’s grinning face and he couldn’t help but relax his position to return her wave.

She pointed at herself with her thumb and then proceeded to do a flip.

Superman couldn’t help the smile that broadened across his face at her apparent happiness when she gazed back at him for his approval. He applauded her acrobatic show, earning him an even larger grin and a bow from the girl.

The freedom of the weightless environment had certainly been everything Samuel Platt had hoped it would be for his daughter.

In this minor way, despite everything else in the investigation that had felt like a failure, Clark saw Amy as the physical proof of the defeat of Lex Luthor. He couldn’t help but feel good about that.

***

Lois heard the sound of the shuttle docking with the Space Station. She was here. She had made it into space. Not that she had ever doubted Clark or his abilities on getting them here. The trip had taken less time that she had anticipated, though. She only hoped that Clark wouldn’t discover the MPD’s raid on Luthor’s bunker until after the fact.

She wanted to unlatch her harness and feel weightlessness for the first time. She wanted to float into the cockpit of the shuttle in order to see the Space Station from up close and Superman flying outside it. However, she had promised Captain Martin that she would remain in her seat until he came back to release her. Since he was her ticket home, she would try her utmost to be polite.

Two minutes later, Lois gave up on that idea and started pulling on her harness. It was hard to see properly at this angle, being that it was so tightly pressed against her torso. She struggled with the latch, but it wouldn’t budge. It was a different sort of harness than what had been used on the Prometheus and therefore didn’t unfasten in quite the same manner. She knew she should have had them show her how it worked before she sat down.

After an eternity of waiting and trying to break free, Martin eventually showed up sporting a surprised expression on his face. “You’re still in your seat, Ms. Lane.”

“Where else would I be, Captain?” she asked. She had meant for this to sound sweet and innocent, instead it came out sarcastic and annoyed.

He gave her a look that told her he didn’t want to give her any ideas by responding to her rhetorical question. Once more, he did a brief review of her training from that morning.

There was no “up” or “down” in space. Apparently, the inner ear, which regulated how the body reacted to gravity on Earth, didn’t function the same way in space, being that there was no gravity to influence it. Therefore, all four sides of the Space Station were used. Colonists didn’t sleep in beds, but in special sleep compartments in the residential wing. The doors to these compartments were located on all four sides of the station, which meant she could end up sleeping upside-down for the entire trip and not even realize it.

Waste wasn’t acceptable, because there just wasn’t room to store it. So, when a meal packet was opened, everything inside it must be consumed. Showers, laundry facilities, flush toilets, and other daily water hogs taken for granted on Earth were a luxury and not a daily occurrence, if they existed onboard at all. Clothes were to be worn for several days before being switched out for clean ones. Working out at the gym every day was mandatory, not optional, to keep up bone density levels and make sure muscles, such as the heart, would continue to work as they were supposed to.

Captain Martin started to review procedures on using the Space Station’s toilet, when Lois raised a hand to stop him.

“How about a female astronaut reviews that with me later on?” she suggested, tugging on her seatbelt. “I’m ready to get out of this thing.” She was beginning to think he was keeping her strapped in on purpose.

“Fine by me, Ma’am. My co-pilot Captain Elena Angelo will be your tour guide from here on out,” Martin said. “I need to debrief Commander Norton of the Space Station.” He floated out of the passenger area and left Lois still buckled in her seat. If he could have stomped out after her interruption, Lois bet he would have. So much for her mending those fences.

Lois had been informed during her briefing that both the pilot and co-pilot of the shuttle had reached the level of captain in the Air Force before EPRAD borrowed them for its space program.

“Oh, don’t mind him, Ms. Lane,” Captain Angelo said from behind her. “He’s a stickler to protocols.”

Lois hadn’t heard her enter. Then, again, why would she? Since nobody walked in space, it must be easy to sneak up on people. Captain Angelo moved into Lois’s line of sight and Lois could see her black ponytail sticking straight up into the air behind her like an exclamation mark or a cat’s tail. Lois reached up and touched her own hair to feel what it was doing. The shortness of her new do meant she probably resembled a puffball more than anything else.

“I heard he protested my presence on his shuttle,” Lois replied. Martin hadn’t been shy about his dislike of her.

“You didn’t go through the full training regimen. You weren’t quarantined for forty-eight hours before the flight…”

“And neither were any of the colonists when they arrived here a year ago,” Lois said. She had gained entrance by taking over the identity of a colonist who ducked out of the trip when they arrived to EPRAD the night prior to lift off.

Angelo smiled. “That’s true. However, he and I were quarantined for this trip. Due to the sterile environment of the Space Station, it’s best not to bring anyone carrying any communicable diseases onboard. With the colonists’ weakened immunity to Earth illnesses, having lived in a fairly sterile environment this last year, it could wipe out their whole community.”

“That’s a slight exaggeration,” Lois stated.

Captain Angelo held up her hands. “Captain Martin’s words, not mine.” She laughed. “Off the record, Ma’am, I agree it was an exaggeration.”

“Is that why I’m still strapped in?” Lois asked.

“Oh, sorry. Here, let me,” Captain Angelo said, unfastening Lois’s harness and allowing her to float into the air.

It felt weird not having her feet automatically move towards the floor. “Not quite like flying with Superman, but a close second,” Lois murmured.

Angelo raised a skeptical brow. “It’s better to fly under a man’s control than under your own?”

Lois lowered her head, so her blushing smile wouldn’t be so noticeable. “Not just any man’s,” she replied.

“Trust me. Once you get used to flying under your own power, you’ll hate to be grounded again,” Captain Angelo said, pointing in the direction Captain Martin had left. “We’ll be heading out this way.”

“I’d like to see the view you did when we docked, out the cockpit window,” Lois said, pulling out her camera and indicating the opposite direction. “It would be a great start to my article.”

“Sorry. Captain Martin’s orders. You’re not allowed into the cockpit,” Captain Angelo said with apologetic smile. “He just doesn’t trust you, Ma’am.”

Lois scowled. “How about you call me ‘Lois’?”

“If you’d like me to, Ma’am,” Captain Angelo said, leading the way. She didn’t volunteer for Lois to call her by her first name either, Lois noticed. She doubted that they’d be sharing secrets over coffee any time soon. Shame.

Captain Angelo took her to the exit hatch. Captain Martin was on the other side talking with an older, bald man whom Lois vaguely remembered from her stint on the Prometheus Shuttle.

“Commander Norton, I request permission for myself, Captain Elena Angelo, and Lois Lane to come aboard the Space Station,” Angelo said, calling out the hatch. Take a woman out of the military and apparently, the military doesn’t leave quite so quickly.

The commander turned and floated away without responding. Angelo glanced at Lois and Lois saw a flash of concern for this breach of etiquette in her expression.

Captain Martin waved for the women to follow him through the hatch. “Commander Norton asked that I show you the viewing room as he made plans for your sleep chamber. Director Avery must have failed to mention in his latest communication your addition to our happy crew,” he said. “Commander Norton asked me to assure you that he will greet you personally later on, Ms. Lane, after you’ve had a chance to rest.”

Lois wasn’t sleepy in the least. She didn’t see why she needed to rest. She gritted her teeth into what she hoped appeared to be a polite smile. “Lead the way.” Clark had said that she would love the view of Earth from up in space.

As she floated into the empty viewing chamber, Lois had to admit that Clark was right. Once again, she compared the experience to flying with Superman… only from really high up.

She saw a flash of red and noticed that Clark was flying outside the window. Her smile broadened until she saw that he sported a stern expression and his folded arms position told her he was upset.

Had he learned about the raid on Luthor’s bunker already? On the other hand, was he mad about her lie to Director Avery about Superman’s volunteering to fly the shuttle?

She waved and hoped her happiness at seeing him would rub off on his gruff demeanor. “The view is as beautiful as you said it would be,” she said. “Thank you for waiting for me to see it with you.”

Superman rolled his eyes and tapped his ear with a shake of his head. Other than that, his expression didn’t change one jot.

Oh. Apparently, nobody can hear you out in space. Wait a minute. Couldn’t that lunkhead read lips or was that just another convenient lie?

She glanced down and saw that Captain Angelo was waiting on the other side of the entry hatch with Captain Martin. They were having an animated discussion. Essentially alone with Superman, Lois placed her fingers to her lips in order to blow him a kiss.

Before she could do so, Superman pointed at her, waving his finger back and forth as if she had been one very naughty girl. Then, he turned toward Earth disappearing from her view in a split second. Her hand fell.

How dare he! Lois huffed to herself, placing her hands on her hips. Nobody flies off on Lois Lane!

She glanced back at the blue and green planet before her, the view now ruined as her heart sank. She had never seen Superman mad at her before. Clark a few times, but never Superman. She knew that they were the same person, but when Superman treated her with contempt, she could actually feel it in her heart and taste his disappointment on her tongue. She realized that mostly whenever she had seen Superman mad, it had been on her behalf and not aimed towards her. The couple of times she had probably earned Clark’s ire, he had usually taken the hurt puppy route, playing the guilt card.

However, Superman was no victim. It was perhaps why she had fallen so fast and hard for that persona over Clark’s. Superman’s self-confidence made him sexy as hell. Lois decided then and there, she never wanted to be on this side of Superman’s scolding finger ever again. It felt worse than years of her father’s disappointment had.

Grabbing hold of a bar between the windows, Lois propelled herself down towards the hatch.

“Done already, Lois?” Captain Angelo asked.

Lois nodded. “It’s a lot to take in,” she said.

“You’ll be staying down this way, Ms. Lane,” Captain Martin said, leading down a deserted corridor, away from the direction they had come.

Again, she saw an expression of concern flash across Angelo’s face.

“Where is everyone?” Lois asked. She hadn’t expected a party, but a small welcome contingent would have been nice.

Captain Martin didn’t speak until he stopped at another empty section of the Space Station and indicated a hole about the size of a phone booth in the floor. “This will be your sleep compartment.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lois snapped. It was less than tiny; it was teeny-tiny. How in the world… or off the world, did they expect her to sleep in that hole?

“All the sleep compartments are this size, Ms… Lois. Otherwise there wouldn’t be room for the hundred colonists and any guests, such as Captain Martin, you, and myself,” Captain Angelo explained, reaching into the chamber and removing what appeared to be a sleeping bag with armholes. “This will be your bed. I’m sure you’ll find it quite comfortable, once you try it. I recommend you zip it up to high on your chest, so that you don’t float forward and bump into anything and accidentally wake yourself.”

Lois glanced back down in the hole and saw that her duffel bag was already inside and fastened to the wall of the chamber. With a resigned sigh, she realized they were being completely serious.

Captain Angelo showed her how to shut the sliding “door” to the compartment for quiet and privacy, the Velcro patches on the wall to stick her personal belongings, photos, and keepsakes, the drawers to put her shrink wrapped clothes away, the “table” for placing her laptop… at least they weren’t completely uncivilized on board the Space Station. At this point, Angelo paused and glanced uncertainly at Captain Martin. “I’ll show you how to use the lavatory later as well as review personal hygiene guidelines,” Captain Angelo said with another quick glance at Captain Martin.

“Yes, Captain Angelo, since you’ve had more exposure to Ms. Lane than I have, you’ll be in charge of her training,” Captain Martin said with a little wave as he floated out the hatch. “See you in a week!” he called and shut the hatch door.

Lois heard the click as it shut. “What does he mean by that?” she asked, turning to look at a pinched lipped Angelo. She had hoped it meant something different from what it sounded like.

“When Commander Norton heard of you being sprayed by Lex Luthor’s blood a few days ago, he insisted that you go through the maximum quarantine period to make sure that you are completely healthy before exposing your germs to the colonists.”

“Excuse me!” Lois growled. “S.T.A.R. Labs cleared me as being illness-free! How am I supposed to interview people and see how life is onboard the Space Station if I’m locked in this twenty foot room? How can I write my article?”

“Hey, I don’t like this any more than you do,” Captain Angelo replied. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m stuck in here as your babysitter, dearie. It’s my second quarantine for this trip, so you better stop your whining and deal.”

“The jerk,” Lois groused. “Martin’s probably the one who told Commander Norton about Luthor in the first place.”

“Captain Martin is spending his quarantine on the shuttle,” Angelo informed her. So, at least the man wasn’t getting away scot-free for his vindictive actions. “Director Avery’s lack of procedures has put us all behind schedule.”

Lois blanched. “Behind schedule?”

Captain Angelo’s anger quickly dissipated and she sighed. “Commander Norton may have granted us access to this hospital ward, since he figured you would need access to medical care should you become sick,” she explained. “But, yes, this little hiccup means that our shuttle cannot officially arrive at the Space Station for a week.”

A stray thought flitted across Lois’s mind, distracting her from their conversation. What would Superman do if he visited the Station and discovered Lois was unavailable due to quarantine? Would he breach quarantine, being immune, just to see her? On the other hand, in his current ticked-off state, would he just let her sit and stew? Maybe she should have warned him what she was doing in advance. Then again, if she had, she knew he would have gone after Luthor to who knew what kind of end, with her stuck up on the Space Station unable to help him.

Lois frowned as Angelo’s words sunk in. “Do you mean we’ll be at the Space Station for two weeks, instead of just one?”

Angelo shrugged, and said, “Only if we can find a landing window in Nevada at that time. It might end up being three or four weeks due to weather or atmospheric conditions or delays. There’s a reason EPRAD doesn’t like changes to the schedule.”

One week away from Clark and her life was doable, but three to four weeks in this sardine can? Lois gulped. If she had wanted to live like this, she could have taken Luthor up on his bunker offer during Nightfall.

***End of Part 192***

Part 193

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