Story ToCPart Four Part Five:----------
After being assured that Clark wasn't in any present danger, Michel returned home in time to catch a brief nap before work. At lunch hour, he cautiously snuck into a deserted alleyway and rocketed back to Kansas, arriving just as the sun was coming up over mid-western America. The Kents were awake and making breakfast, and he soon found himself all but shoved into their kitchen, where a hot plate of pancakes sat waiting for him.
Much to his relief, Clark seemed to be feeling better; but his powers were completely gone, which was worrying. Michel had no idea such a thing was even possible, and, against all sense of self-preservation, part of him wanted to see this mysterious rock that was apparently responsible for his friend's condition.
“It's not worth it,” Clark suddenly said from across the table. “Trust me.”
Michel looked up from Mrs. Kent's wonderful pancakes and stared at Clark in shock. “How did you know what I was thinking?” he asked. The elder Kents looked curious, too.
Clark gave a dry chuckle. “I just saw the interest in your expression,” he said, stabbing at his own pancakes with a fork, “and I know how you get about rocks. It's pretty easy to put two and two together.”
“Oh.” Michel deflated. “I thought...well...” He trailed off, too embarrassed to even complete the thought.
Clark shook his head. “I don't think I believe in telepathy,” he said, then frowned. “Of course, I didn't really believe in aliens, either, until I found out I was one.”
“Anything's possible, Clark,” Jonathan chided gently.
“He knew you were in trouble, somehow,” Martha added, returning from the stove with a plate of bacon, “and I've read a lot of stories about ESP...”
“Fictional stories, Mom,” Clark protested.
Mrs. Kent only shrugged and set the plate down on the table.
“We should probably test it out,” said Jonathan. He reached for a piece of bacon. “Find out if it's something you two can control.”
Clark rolled his eyes. “Dad...”
“I have a deck of cards around here, somewhere,” Martha said. “Maybe later, we can run a few trials.”
“Mom!” Clark sighed. “Look, I'm sure Michel has a lot more important things to do than play 'guess how many fingers I'm holding up'.”
“I'm game,” Michel chimed in, grinning.
Clark glared at him as though he were a traitor.
The conversation was interrupted by Miss Lane's arrival in the kitchen. She sniffed. “Mmm, do I smell pancakes?”
Clark grinned. “Good morning, Lois.”
“Have a seat, dear,” said Martha, standing up to usher Clark's partner into a chair at the kitchen table. “There's plenty left.”
Once Miss Lane joined them, the topic changed to Wayne Irig, the workers on his property, and a bureaucrat named Ms. Sherman. Miss Lane was eager to “blow the whole cover-up wide open”, and as soon as breakfast was over, she immediately ran out to the car, ordering Clark and Michel to follow. There was an almost-frightening intensity to this woman, but she was clearly very passionate about her job and, Michel couldn't help but notice, also very lovely. Clark was a lucky man.
“Look,” Clark said softly as they headed out the door, already at the edge of Miss Lane's dust-trail, “whatever you think happened, didn't actually happen. She's just staying with us. That's all.”
“Oh,” said Michel. After a brief moment, he turned to Clark with wide eyes. “How did you know what I—?”
He was cut off by Clark's sigh.
**********
Ms. Sherman frowned and handed the fax back to Lois. “Look, if you want to match paperwork, we can do that,” she said. She proceeded to show them a number of official-looking documents, including an *updated* version of the list of EPA cleanup sites.
“She's right, Lois,” Clark conceded after looking over the document.
Lois, however, was not as easily swayed. “May I see those?” she demanded.
While she pored through Ms. Sherman's folder, Clark looked at Michel. His friend was staring intently at one of the tents that had been erected on the property, and Clark watched his expression morph from confusion to shock. He tried looking through the tent himself, in hopes of seeing whatever Michel was seeing, but his powers remained frustratingly absent.
“Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind if our expert had a look around,” he heard Lois saying. Clark returned his attention to the conversation with Ms. Sherman and nudged Michel just in time for Lois to continue, “Dr. Renaud here is an internationally acclaimed geologist. I'm sure he'll be happy to help us all find out *exactly* what's in the soil, here.” She flashed Ms. Sherman a grin.
Michel dutifully produced a card, which the woman inspected.
“This is a government operation,” Ms. Sherman said flatly, handing back the card. “No independent parties on the premises.”
Lois' grin vanished. “You can't do that!” she protested.
“Tell you what,” Ms. Sherman said amicably, “you go through the proper channels and get him clearance from the EPA, and I'll be more than happy to show him around.”
After going back-and-forth a bit more, the three of them finally left, defeated. Lois grumbled as she started the car. “So, we're right back to square one,” she complained. “We didn't even learn anything new.”
Clark glanced at Michel's reflection in the rear-view mirror. Michel seemed deep in thought, and his expression was troubled.
TBC...-----
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