“*Don’t* get on that plane!”
Clark awoke with a start; his body and bed sheets were bathed in cold sweat. He thought, <Don’t get on *what* plane? Surely not the flight he was taking out of Wichita today?> He and Lana had fought over his decision to move to Metropolis, but he was determined to make a career in journalism working for an important newspaper in a major city, not remain as managing editor of the Smallville Gazette. It was a respectable publication with a decent circulation and a secure future, but he wanted more.
A dream.
He had dreamt of Larkin Airport in Metropolis. Of a funny man with a British accent wearing old-fashioned clothes and a bowler hat. It was wintertime and a blizzard was beginning to cripple the airport. There were several photographers and some questionable people who referred to themselves as ‘reporters’. A wealthy over-groomed couple…and a beautiful woman with long dark hair and brown doe like eyes.
There was something else. An odd flash of brilliant lights and the strangest feeling he existed in two places and times all at once. The dream, with its myriad sights and sounds, seemed more like actual memories. Yet try as he might, the dream with all its nuances faded like a freshly painted watercolor in a Kansas spring downpour.
He got up and slowly made his way to the kitchenette for a glass of lukewarm water, carefully avoiding the piles of boxes bound for storage. His throat felt sandpapery and constricted, the rancid smell of warm human sweat invaded his nostrils. Over all he felt achy and extremely tired, as if he had never slept. Retracing his steps, Clark returned to his narrow bed and lay down for a few more minutes, but the feel of damp sheets against his clammy skin made that impossible. Obviously, the dream must have been traumatic for it to have affected him on a physical level as well. Perhaps a dose of sunlight was what he needed. He wandered outside and quietly stood just outside his front door absorbing the gentle rays of early morning sunshine.
It took nearly fifteen minutes before Clark began to feel better, at super speed he showered and dressed. No reason that Uncle Wayne and the Langs should have to wait for him. Lana and her parents had insisted on seeing him off, which meant he couldn’t fly on his own to Metropolis. She felt it would help him blend into his new life if he flew there like regular people. <Fly like ‘regular people’? He was most definitely *not* a regular person! Regular people do not fly hundreds of feet in the air under their own power to reach a destination. That was *regular* for him.> Flying in a giant cylinder of aluminum, rubber and plastic only caused him to be impatient and slightly claustrophobic because he could get there faster than any human pilot could fly.
Despite his misgivings about the flight, he was glad Lana had decided to follow him to Metropolis working alongside her father as his assistant. Prof. Lang had been invited by Jefferson Bailey, the Creative Director, to head up the project team creating an extensive series of exhibits focusing on the French emperor Napoleon. The exhibits, collectively to be called, The Age of Napoleon, was showcasing major events in the former French emperor’s life, would be on display at the Metropolis Museum of History and Art. It was a much coveted position and Prof. Lang greeted the assignment with enthusiasm.
The phone rang, cracking the early morning stillness and rudely intruding on Clark’s thoughts. Quickly he ran into the tiny apartment once more, careful to avoid the boxes and snatched the phone off its cradle.
“Hello,” Clark said.
“Good morning son, its Uncle Wayne. Penelope’s going to birth this calf sooner than expected. Doc Wilson’s on his way. But she can’t be left alone. Plus with your Aunt Mary laid up with the flu, we can’t be there to see you off. You understand?”
“Sure I do.” Clark answered, careful to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
“I’m real sorry about this ...it’s better to say these things in person than over the phone lines. Ah, your folks would be mighty proud of you.” The older man’s voice nearly broke when he said the last.
“I…I know Uncle Wayne, if you and Aunt Mary hadn’t stepped in…”
“Now let’s not start that! Jonathan and me served together in Korea. He saved my life more’n once. No stupid high handed judge was gonna tell me I wasn’t gonna raise his boy. Adopted or not.” Wayne’s voice was gruff, but the affection for Clark and his deceased parents was deep and genuine.
Briefly there was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then his uncle continued. “You’re a special person Clark, in ways most folks don’t understand. But don’t let that stop you from helpin’ where you can.”
“Th …thank you for everything. I’ll come back and visit to see Penelope’s new calf. The fences on the north side will need tending to pretty soon. I can help with that.”
“Good. We can talk all about your life in Metropolis.” Wayne Irig hesitated then said. “Uh now, Clark, I don’t want to stick my nose where it don’t belong …but it’s about Lana.”
“Yes sir?”
“Aw well …she’s all right most of the time, but the girl don’t hold to your…uh, talents. It was a rotten accident when she caught you behind the barn practicing your heat vision. That’s water under the bridge, but she’s never wanted you to use those powers for any reason. It’s probably why you’re flying on a plane to Metropolis rather under your own steam.”
Clark sighed mentally; he always suspected Uncle Wayne didn’t approve of their relationship.
“…respect is important in a relationship. That’s all I’m saying.”
After college, Clark had traveled around the world for a few years. He accepted work from newspapers in different lands, to learn about the politics, language, customs and non-tourist aspects of a country. Yet in all the years of travel, he had never found a city to settle and truly call home. He knew in his heart it had to be a unique place, where he was no longer an outsider and could fit into as perfectly and as completely as pages of a newspaper. To work at a great job, and build a good life with cherished friends. Often when he did begin to feel comfortable, his talents would somehow manifest themselves and he was obliged to move on.
Clark returned to Kansas fully intending to run the farm until he could find an experienced man to manage it once he found a reporting job with a reputable newspaper. He loved the place and was determined that despite his absences the homestead would be kept up as if his parents were still alive. Shortly after his return, Seth Potter asked him to become the Managing Editor of the Smallville Gazette after his retirement. Clark reasoned that since it was a weekly newspaper, it would be fairly easy to manage both jobs, especially with his distinctive abilities. He agreed to be the temporary Managing Editor, so if another job came through, he could leave the Gazette and move on to hopefully his permanent home with a clear conscience.
It was not too long afterwards that Joe Cleve, a reliable young man that Clark grew up with, agreed to take over the daily operations of the Kent farm. Clark arranged to let Joe and his young family move into the old farmhouse and he moved into a small apartment over his neighbor, Mrs. Siegel’s, garage.
Lana had graduated from college with a degree in European history, following in her father’s footsteps, specialized in the Roman occupation of Gaul; she immediately joined her parents at a dig in the former Aquintaine Province of France. The dig was a treasure trove of artifacts from when Napoleon’s army had set up camp in that area. When that excavation project was finished, the Lang family returned to Smallville shortly after Clark.
Clark and Lana had met purely by accident at Maisie’s diner. Lana, pleased to see how mature her former beau had become, decided she wanted to pick up where they left off in high school and began insinuating herself into Clark’s life.
At first the relationship was easy and fun, Clark enjoyed having a woman in his life who besides Uncle Wayne and Pete Ross knew his secret. It was a pleasure to do nice things for her with the aid of his super abilities. He did not have to pretend to be something he was not. But the more Lana spent time with him, the more she felt the need to manage his life, chiefly when it came to his persistent determination to render assistance to those in need. She felt he should blend in as much as possible, which meant ignoring cries for help, even if lives were at stake.
Life in Smallville did not suit Lana, she had seen beyond what Kansas had to offer so that now living in a rural area was more of a punishment than returning home. She mailed applications to dozens of colleges, prestigious universities and museums in several states, chiefly New York, New Troy, and California. While she waited for responses from her applications, Lana taught French history at the local community college.
She felt certain her relationship with Clark was strong enough that he would follow her. After all, they *were* an attractive couple. They had dated for more than five months and there was talk around the small farming community that they should marry. Yet, despite his easy going attitude, he had ambitions of his own, dreams of working for a big city newspaper. He also diligently submitted resumes all over the country. Several responded by contacting him via phone and conducting an initial interview right then and there. But unfortunately, none called him back for a follow-up.
He had been living in Smallville for about a year when on the same day he received four requests to interview him face to face - the only caveat being if Clark was willing to travel to these cities at his own expense. He happily told each interviewer that would not prove to be a problem for him. The newspapers were as impressive:
San Francisco Chronicle
Chicago Tribune
Washington Post
Metropolis Daily PlanetClark eagerly set up interview dates with all four newspapers. He asked his old college instructor, Prof. Dade Carson to write a letter of introduction to the managing editor of the Daily Planet, Perry White. Of the four newspapers, the Planet was the one he wanted to work for the most.
He flew to Metropolis on a rainy Wednesday afternoon; he had to duck into the men’s room in the lobby of the newspaper’s building and ‘quick dry’ his clothes by carefully using his heat vision. After taking a slow ride up the recalcitrant elevator, Clark stepped into the controlled chaos of the world famous newsroom and a curious sense of calm came over him. After so many years looking for a personal niche, he felt as if he had finally arrived home.
Perry White had him enter immediately into his office where the veteran journalist grilled the young man about his experiences abroad and as editor of the Smallville newspaper. He was pleased to see various first-rate investigative articles on subjects such as an extensive cover-up by a well-known hardware chain that sold chemical fertilizers. The use of this particular brand of fertilizers led to the contamination of the local water table. The article resulted in an in-depth investigation of the hardware company which forced them to use their own money to clean up the contaminated water supplies.
The interview ended with Perry offering Clark the job working alongside Lois Lane on the city desk. Clark was pleased to hear he would be teamed with a seasoned veteran, even in Kansas he had heard of her ground breaking exposés.
He flew back to Smallville both elated and a little saddened. He was leaving his adopted family’s home again and this time he knew with certainly that Metropolis would take its place within his mind and heart.
He had a long conversation with Joe to become the permanent caretaker of the farm. Needless to say, Joe was thrilled. Once that matter was resolved, he prepared himself for a rather uncomfortable discussion with Lana.
Lana had originally been less than supportive and grumbled about the new job at every other opportunity. She had told him her career should be considered first, after all she reasoned, he could get a writing job *anywhere*. Her attitude changed immediately when her father accepted the invitation to become Curator of French History at Metropolis Museum of History and Art. His first important project was to reconstruct exhibits of the world of Napoleon Bonaparte using many of the artifacts his team had uncovered in the Aquitaine Province.
Prof. Lang was pleased and awed by the assignment before him. He asked Lana to come to Metropolis with him and help recreate five major scenes from the emperor’s life. Apparently, she was more than willing to give up searching for a position at a big name college in order to be his assistant. Having that on her resume would definitely impress any college faculty. Obviously having Clark get hired by the Daily Planet in Metropolis meant he was going places and she wanted to be close by to guide his path to fame and hopefully fortune.
Now Clark was ambivalent where Lana was concerned; he cared deeply for her and was grateful to have someone in his life. Yet at the same time *knowing* about his background and *understanding* him - what drove him as a man - were two different things. Take for example her insistence he fly to Metropolis…via airplane so her folks could see him off. He really didn’t have extra money to blow on a ticket…
Clark was roughly pulled from his musings and into the present when Uncle Wayne, in a loud tone, said, “Clark! Son, are you hearin’ what I’m saying?”
A little embarrassed, Clark responded, “Sorry, I didn’t…”
“Huh, well, never mind, you got enough to think about. All I’m saying is maybe seeing other women when you settle into that reportin’ job is a good idea. Heck, have Pete fix you up with some pretty nurse or doctor, Lana ain’t the *only* filly on the range.”
“Maybe…” Clark said tentatively.
Wayne sighed heavily, “Son, you’re good man. But she *ain’t* the one. I’ve said my piece. Do us all proud. Call when the plane lands.”
The two men exchanged farewells and then Clark hung up.
***
Wichita Airport’s main terminal was vast open space; with sweeping high ceilings resembling giant white Clipper ship sails gently billowing in the wind. But if anyone examined the ‘sails’ at close range they would discover they were perfectly sculptured fiberglass sustained by massive support beams. The terminal made passengers and workers alike feel as if they were walking amongst the clouds.
Several groups of travelers eagerly strolled through the security gates. Some held back, stretching out the final minutes before saying good-bye. One such group was made up of four people; a middle aged couple and another couple in their mid-twenties. The tall handsome young man was awkwardly trying to say good-bye, he gazed admiringly at Lana, she was wearing a pretty mid-length green skirt and fashionably cut white cotton blouse. No doubt purchased from her favorite boutique, Sylvia’s in downtown Wichita. Sensing his discomfort, the young woman before him took his hand, squeezed it hard and spoke.
“Do you have everything Clark? Did the Daily Planet arrange for someone to meet you?” The petite blonde said, her tone carried a distinct edge to it.
“Yes, anything that doesn’t go in the belly of the plane I’ll carry on with me. No, the newspaper did not arrange for someone to meet me, I’m not a VIP, just a rookie staff reporter. Pete will meet me at Larkin Airport.”
“Don’t forget to call us as soon as the plane touches down.” Mrs. Lang said her tone matched Lana’s.
“Now remember, there’s a one hour time difference between Smallville and Metropolis. You forget that sometimes…” Lana said
“Oh and remember to call your Uncle Wayne and Aunt Mary! Otherwise, they’ll call us.” Mrs. Lang said, this time with a disapproving tone.
“Both of you stop treating him like a child.” A heavy voice growled.
“He’s a grown man who has flown all over the world. The ins and outs of Larkin Airport ought to be simple for him to navigate without having to check in with his ‘handlers’.” Professor Bertram Lang looked from his wife and daughter and then to his antique watch. “I need to get back and finish preparing my presentation on the Age of Napoleon exhibit to the Board of Trustees for Metropolis Museum of Art. Kent, have a safe trip. Call Lana when you get settled and not a moment before.” Lana’s father shook Clark’s hand with a crushing formal grip that would hurt another man. Years of excavating in all manner of soil during long, arduous archeological digs, had calloused his hands and hardened his body. He nodded his leonine head once, and then walked away.
***
Professor Lang did not approve of Lana dating young Kent, although he knew there was little he could do to prevent his headstrong daughter from having her own way. Nevertheless, he was not going to actively promote the relationship as his wife had done.
He remembered Clark’s adoptive parents and respected them. But they were simple farmers and it looked like their son would only be a print reporter. <Probably ending up writing nothing more significant than obituaries and want ads. The Daily Planet was not the Smallville Gazette.> He thought grimly. He wanted more for his daughter than a mere newspaper reporter’s salary could provide.
Alberta Lang looked after her husband’s swiftly retreating form and shook her head thinking. <Bertram is a good man at heart, but sometimes he forgets the social niceties.> There was nothing wrong with this mild young man courting their daughter. If anything, Alberta was relieved that Lana had renewed the relationship. While they were in France, she had been attracted to a powerful local aristocrat, they dated for a while, but Lana soon grew bored with the man and sent him packing.
Her mother suspected it was less to do with Lana being bored and more to do with him deciding he would not be manipulated. Clark on the other hand, was not weak, but did not stand up to Lana as much as he should. Still, he was working for an internationally renowned newspaper, which had to say something for the strength of his character. Between the connections Lana would garner from her time at the Museum and Clark’s association with the Daily Planet, she had no doubt Lana would do very well in Metropolis, very well indeed.
Mrs. Lang stood on tiptoe and gave Clark a quick hug. “Have a pleasant flight. Oh, and tell Peter Ross he needs to call his folks more than twice a week. He may be a busy young doctor, but family comes first.” Turning to her daughter she said, “Lana we’ll see you at the car.” With those brisk words, she walked away to join her husband. The sound of her black patent leather heels clicked on the tile floor momentarily over the noise of the airport terminal.
“Daddy’s a little uptight about the Napoleon Exhibit. It is going to take absolutely months to label and catalogue all the items brought over from France and then another six to design the exhibit and finally two months for staging and execution of the appearance of Napoleon’s field camp, throne room and the other tableaus. It will be *the* high point of his career. Helping him put all this together will give my own career a boost.” She smiled coquettishly, blue eyes flashing in excitement, “Working and living in Metropolis should allow access to all sorts of prospects for us.”
“I’m very happy for your father. It will be a really great opportunity for him.” Clark said.
Lana leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around him. “It will be a great opportunity for *us* as well. Especially, once you get established at the Daily Planet…” She smiled in a seductive, knowing manner and her blue eyes twinkled. “Oh well, maybe that conversation can wait until later.”
Clark was about to speak when the loudspeaker announced his flight was preparing to board.
“Uh, I gotta go. I’ll call you from Pete’s place.”
“Good, don’t forget to start looking for an apartment right away! Living with Pete, would be inconvenient for…us.”
In an attempt to change the subject he said, “Aren’t you going to stay with Chloe Foster until you find a place?”
“My old college roommate has a small one bedroom Clark; it’ll be great for awhile, but only until I find a place of my own. That is of course unless you are able to find an apartment big enough for two.”
He shook his head dismissing her words, “We talked about this Lana, we need our own places, get ourselves established before we go any further. Adjusting to life in Metropolis is going to be a considerable challenge.”
Undeterred by his words, she spoke with a slightly flirty tone, as if promising a treat if he obeyed. She imitated her mother, stood on tiptoe and said in his ear. “Oh things will change when we get there! See you soon and Clark, remember, NO FLYING!” This last was said in a whispering tone that was both seductive and unkind. Afterwards, she gently kissed his lips, gave him a fierce hug and then quickly walked away, her perfectly tailored green skirt swishing in flirty syncopation with her hips.
Clark stood looking at her rapidly vanishing petite figure; her head erect, expecting everyone and everything to make way for her wants and needs. Although in a curious way, her self-confidence made up for what he lacked. Ever since was his parents were killed in that car accident when he was sixteen, Lana had one of the people who helped him work through near crippling grief. But once he had to make his own way in the world that need had diminished, he felt in his heart having Lana as his confidence booster was no longer enough. He truly cared for Lana, yet she refused to allow him to be…what?
With a gentle sigh, he picked up his luggage and walked through the bustling Air Alliance terminal towards the gate. The enigmatic thoughts of the strange dream he had earlier in the morning came back to him. The people, cold weather and the mysteriously beautiful dark haired young woman who walked by him with strength of mind seemed very far away. Whatever the dream represented was, as unsubstantiated as a feather, gently floating on a lazy summer breeze.
Overhead he heard the PA system announce his flight again. All thoughts of the dream, faded away, swiftly he hurried towards the gate and a new life in Metropolis.
***
“Here we are … home sweet home!” Clark’s boyhood friend, Pete Ross opened the door to a sunny apartment. The foyer was large and led straight into the sparsely furnished living room.
Clark cast his eyes over the spacious apartment, it was certainly bigger and brighter than he had originally expected. He released a low whistle, “Being a neurologist certainly isn’t hurting you.”
His old friend shrugged, “It has its perks. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” Pete said as he turned to the right and guided Clark down a short corridor to a small, but brightly lit room. There was a large futon, a small wooden book shelf, chest of drawers and on the parquet floor laid a faded blue, non-descript medium sized area rug.
“I really appreciate this. But listen Pete; starting tomorrow I’m looking for a place of my own. No way do I want to be an inconsiderate guest and wear out my welcome.”
Pete chuckled softly, “Right now, I’m working the night shift at MetroGen. So we shouldn’t be tripping over each other. As long as the apartment is neat and clean, you can stay as long as you like.”
Clark bowed his head sheepishly and said thanks.
“Don’t mention it. I still have not found a medical group to work with on a full-time basis, so until then my hours are going to be set. Apparently a lot of people in Metropolis experience most head injuries at night.” His easy going expression took a serious appearance, “Uh… that is unless there’s an urgent need for a place of your own? Lana *is* moving in with her friend Chloe in a few weeks.”
Clark started unpacking. “Lana is staying with Chloe or will until she gets her own place. After bouncing all over the world for three years sharing cramped quarters with strangers and then living in that tiny shoebox of an apartment over Mrs. Siegel’s garage, I want to live *alone* for a little while… in a place big enough to put all the artwork and sculpture I’ve collected over the years.”
“Good. It’s going to be great having you here. Metropolis may not be Paris or Madrid, but my adopted town has a lot to offer. Wait until we visit the Metro stadium …baseball at its finest! I do have one question, are your uh … talents going to make an appearance?”
“Yes, but it has to be done in secret.”
“Is it because of Lana?”
“No… er yes,” he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Honestly, I want a private life. If anyone caught me on film that *secret* life would be the end of my *life*. Besides, you know how she gets when I use my abilities.”
The unspoken words regarding his relationship with Lana hung in the air and were not addressed by either man. Instead, Pete stood in the doorway of his friend’s room and talked about all the attractions of Metropolis for the single male. Clark listened as he continued to take business and casual clothes out of the suitcases and then place them into the closet and dresser.
Finally, Clark said, “Pete, I care about Lana and want her in my life. But right now we need to establish our own careers before we take the next step in our relationship. She did mention at the airport about my getting an apartment quickly, but I’m not interested in living together. When the time is right, marriage is the only option for me.”
“OK,” Pete hesitated and then decided against saying anything further.
“Look, there’s a great Italian restaurant down the block. Interested? ‘Cause, I’m starving!”
“Sounds great, let’s go! When we get back I better call Lana and let her know everything is OK.”
***
That Monday morning found Clark wearing his best charcoal suit, with a white shirt and faded burgundy paisley tie, in the elevator of the Daily Planet building. The creaking mechanism had him worried until he used his x-ray vision to examine the gears and discovered they simply needed a good oiling. Relieved that he would not have to make an elevator rescue in the near future, he tried to relax, but the well-dressed young man who shared the car with him made that almost impossible. His insistent high-pitched whistling grated his ears. The fellow must have noticed Clark irritation, because he stopped, turned and said, “Clark Kent, right?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Ha! Thought so. White told me about a new reporter hire. Midwest, right?”
Clark nodded slowly not knowing what to make of the fellow’s questions.
“Oh yeah, forgot to introduce myself. Olsen. James. I own this rag.”
He had not even cashed his first paycheck from the Daily Planet’s payroll, but hearing the beloved newspaper called a ‘rag’, annoyed him greatly. His new boss was not someone he wanted to spend time with.
“Uh, Mr. Olsen, The Daily Planet is a fine newspaper. From what I’ve heard of ‘the Olsen touch’ your accountants would not have allowed you to make such a purchase if it truly was a ‘rag’.”
The young man observed Kent with cool brown eyes, making a mental appraisal and then he smiled. “Smooth! Mr. White’s instincts were on point. Welcome to the Planet, Mr. Kent, we are expecting great things from you. Oh and my accounting team makes suggestions, *I* make the final decision. Ah, newsroom floor. This is your stop. Remember, my eyes will be studying all articles with the Kent byline. Have a good first day!”
As the elevator doors snapped shut behind him and the car continued its sluggish rise to the executive offices on the twentieth floor, Clark stood there looking at the doors and wondered what had just transpired. Did James – it was hard to consider calling someone younger than him as *Mr. Olsen* - just test him? If so, life on this particular newspaper with its young publisher was going to be out of the ordinary, in a manner he had never imagined.
***
The first morning working in the bullpen was fast paced and hectic. Perry had a youngster named Jack take him to the human resources department in order to obtain work id, press pass and benefits information, he also gave him a tour of the different departments. Afterwards there was an extensive ‘insider’ tour of the building. It was just after lunch before Clark could finally sit down to arrange his desk and get to know some of the people he would be working with. Entering into the bullpen Catherine, Steve, Diane and Stacy came over and introduced themselves to the new hire. He also met the office snitch…Ralph Lombard.
“Kent, that desk you are sitting in was once occupied by the world famous Eduardo Friez” Catherine said respectfully.
His eyes opened wide in admiration and respect, “*The* Eduardo Friez? Who parachuted behind enemy lines to get the full interview of the former Yugoslavian ambassador’s escape from the opposition’s stronghold?”
“Yes,” she replied with a touch of pride. “He’s on assignment in London for an extended period, so don’t get too comfortable in that chair. If I were you, I would put in for another desk location. One never knows when Eduardo might show up.”
He swiveled in the wooden chair and smiled, “Why?” He asked playfully. “This is a really comfortable chair; I could get to like sitting here.” Looking over to his left he noticed an unoccupied desk, decorated with photos and a luscious African violet plant, potted in an azure ceramic container. He nodded shyly to the desk and asked,
“Whose desk is that? Is it being held for someone as well?”
Before anyone could answer, Ralph interjected. “Oh, *that* desk belongs to the Ice Queen, Lois Lane.”
Ignoring the ‘Ice Queen’ comment, Clark said, “Oh yeah, that’s right. Mr. White mentioned we would be sharing the city beat. I read some of her articles while I was in Europe, very well written.”
“Yeah buddy, you are going to be workin’ with her, I pity you. She only got along with two people, Eduardo and the other fella was *Claude*.” The ferret-like man spoke in a way that made Miss Lane seem licentious in some manner.
Catherine Grant said with a chilled voice, “Can you hear the sound of the rat catchers? They’re calling for you in the morgue. I suggest you get back there or your next ‘lateral job move’ will be the street.”
“Ha! Everyone defends her, but I know better. Jus’ you wait Kent, pretty soon she’ll walk all over you!” Ralph made his way up the ramp and back to the Daily Planet’s ancient records department.
“Sorry you had to hear that Mr. Kent. Ralph is always ragging on someone; unfortunately, Lois is his favorite target. Just so you know, Lois is in Virginia covering the trapped miners story. Jack said.
Steve from the sports department said, “People it’s time to get back to work. Clark, will you be OK with this computer?”
“Sure Steve, this word-processing program is like the one at my previous job.”
The small group disbursed to their desks. Clark decided it was best not to concern himself with Ralph’s unkind remarks. He began familiarizing himself with the computer and to settle into his new job on the City Beat section of the Daily Planet. The rest of the day went smoothly and since he did not have any stories to file yet, he decided to head for home. Just as he was packing up his desk, a familiar scent of wildflowers assailed his nose. Lana was here.
He looked up and saw her stride down the ramp with her head held high and bestowing upon him one of her winning smiles. She was wearing a fashionable navy business suit that must have set her back a little, but she looked absolutely smashing - something every man in the newsroom recognized. He couldn’t help but return her smile in kind. She walked up to him, lightly took his face in her hands and asked,
“Hi Handsome! Did you miss me?” Before allowing him to answer she gave him a very deliberate, but meaningful kiss on the mouth. This was her public way of informing all the women in the newsroom that Clark Kent was *hers*.
“I – I thought you weren’t coming for another week or two?” he said when they parted.
“The museum asked Daddy to start working earlier than they had planned, so he and I packed a couple of bags and flew out last night. I’m going over to Chloe’s after work, but Daddy is staying at a hotel until he and mother can find an apartment near the museum. My arrangements can change if you found an apartment *for us* in record time?” She studied him carefully.
“Not yet. I just got here three days ago!”
Shaking her head in dismay she shot back. “Clark, this is Metropolis! You have to move fast! We can talk about the various neighborhoods over dinner.”
***
Watching the couple’s conversation from the copy machine, all Stacy could manage to say to Catherine in a hushed tone was, “Wow.”
“Yes. Such a subtle way to let the newsroom know she’s marking her property.” Catherine sniffed and said, “Paltry tactic.”
“How can you say that Catherine?” The young woman asked with a quizzing expression. “She’s just happy to see him. Besides, what woman won’t do that, especially if her fella looked that hot!”
The older woman smiled knowingly at the girl, patted her on the shoulder and moved back to her desk.
***
A week passed, Clark continued acclimating himself to working with the talented group of people in the Planet’s newsroom. He got friendly with several female staffers such as Catherine and her friends Janet Owens, Constance Hunter and research intern Stacy Jordan. He wanted to know why she had made a special point for him to meet and work with these women and she happily explained.
“Janet is the head of our science department. That section of the paper is printed every Tuesday. She’s your best person to ask technical questions and if she can’t answer them, put you in touch with some of the best people in their chosen fields who can, such as the folks at EPRAD. Janet knows Dr. Bernie Klein, chief scientist and administrator at S.T.A.R. Labs. When we are *really* stuck, we go to him. Constance is our in-house legal counsel and Stacy, even though she is an intern, is extremely good at tracking down information that eludes even Jack. In the course of working here, eventually you’ll be in need of their expertise.”
“Oh, they will go over the scientific or legal aspects of my story to make sure nothing is wrong?” Clark asked.
“Exactly, sometimes this newspaper goes up against influential men and powerful corporations. It is *very* important all our information and sources are bulletproof. Some of the words you’ll get tired of hearing from Perry are, ‘facts, people, give me cold hard facts.’ Lawsuits are a *messy business* and only generate news for our competitors. If a story we print goes to court we want to be one hundred percent positive the jury rules in our favor.”
“Has the Planet ever gone to court on a slander case and lost?”
“Thankfully only once, under a previous Managing Editor, not during Perry’s watch.”
“Did the Planet win?” Clark asked.
Catherine shook her head sadly, “That man isn’t Managing Editor any longer.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve read your work from Smallville. That article on contaminated water was outstanding. It was crisply written and thoroughly researched. It’s highly unlikely any story of yours will be so poorly researched as to call down legal difficulties.”
“Anybody else get into trouble with the Legal department?”
The columnist smiled in a secretive way. “A rumor or two might get around, depends on the reporter and the story.”
“What about Lois Lane? I’ve heard a rumor or two about a big story she’s been working on.”
Catherine became very still and then her facial muscles shifted into a hint of a smile. If it were not for Clark’s super vision he might have missed it. “Now there’s the difference between a newbie reporter and a seasoned professional. Lois is *always* working on a big story.” With those words, Catherine patted Clark on the back and returned to her desk. Clark sighed. He had just stepped into a muddy puddle and knew it. Hopefully he would remember to listen and ask questions only when he was certain they would not lead to disaster.
The rest of the day proved without incident between himself and Catherine or any other reporter. He filed his first story with Perry about an old theatre that was being razed to make room for a parking structure. He did not know what gave him the greater pleasure, watching the octogenarian give her final solo performance on the ancient wooden stage or interviewing the actress.
True, it was not the kind of story normally found on the city beat, but from the reception it received from Perry and not a few readers, it was a grand start.
