Part Eighteen
Allen Phillips slowly made his way to the front cab of the new Metro train line. The grey-haired man with the slightly stooped back was a thirty-five year veteran train operator of the Metropolis Transit System. Today was the first time these innovative train cars were to glide over spanking new tracks out of Oak Court Terminal, but it was the first and last time he would be driving them. Tomorrow he’d hand in his gear and close the noisy steel locker that had contained his personal items for all those years. Retirement day finally had arrived and not a moment too soon for him. The MTS’s ongoing upgrade would eventually replace its older operator driven cars with fancy automated modules, each of which would contain multiple computer systems. These systems would control everything from the interior lights to navigation. That was fine for the efficiency experts and politicos and, supposedly, a huge safety feature for the great number of passengers who would ride the modules every day, but he preferred driving with both of his hands firmly on the throttle.
The one bright spot would be guiding the train module into Nuber Avenue station with its new-fangled design and technology. Imagine, him a kid from Mulberry Gardens in the older part of Metropolis driving into the station and getting his picture taken with all manner of famous people! Now, in his humble opinion, that was the way to leave the job on a high note!
Brushing all other thoughts aside, he got himself situated within the driver’s booth and then called out to his crew. “Louie, Mac, you guys ready to go over this checklist?”
Louie answered crisply with a chuckle in his voice. “Ready when you are! This ‘list’ has got to be at least three miles long!”
“That’s okay; we do everything by the book than we can leave the station.” Allen answered back. This was going to be a fun drive, he could hardly wait to tell Millie about it when he got home. With the back of his sleeve he blotted beads of sweat from his forehead. Now if only his left arm would stop hurting…
***
The newsroom workday was winding down, several of the day time staff had already departed and some of the night crew was shuffling in. Lois was desultorily packing up her briefcase, getting ready to leave as well. It had been a long day and her feet hurt from walking around town trying to track down a lead on a promising story about a ring of jewelry thieves that had run dry. After such a disappointment she was looking forward to soaking in a hot bubble bath and then watching a couple of hours of her favorite show, The Ivory Tower on the VCR.
The highlight of the day was helping Catherine get ready for her impromptu date with Arthur Chow. Lately the two had been seeing even more of each other than usual when he was in town. Although her friend had not said a great deal about those dates, Lois could tell by her enigmatic smiles that Catherine was quietly pleased with the change her life was taking.
All of a sudden, Applegate rushed by her desk, sneezing and coughing as he went.
“Hey Applegate, cover your mouth, no one here want to catch your germs!” She called after him.
Applegate uncharacteristically ignored her remark and made his way up the ramp.
Clark’s consoling voice reached her ears. “Lois, have a little pity on the man, he’s been fighting a bad cold all week. You’ve got to admire his dedication to the job.”
Her pretty lips twisted into a grimace, “I don’t mind his dedication, just as long as the entire bullpen doesn't get sick because of it.”
She was about to launch into a discussion about people using tissues when Perry came out of his office and walked straight towards them. The wolfish look on his face put Lois on her guard.
“Uh, Lois you do know tonight is the inaugural run for the new midtown line addition to the Metropolis subway system?”
Despite her weariness she managed a cautious smile, Perry was up to something. “Sure Chief! Everybody’s talking about it. The Metropolis Transit System’s new underground line will make travel from the east side of Metropolis to the west side a lot easier. That new station installed on Nuber Avenue will become a huge work of art and a bustling commuter hub. It's a tech friendly place, shiny, made of glass and simply sparkles from all the natural light pouring down from hundreds of feet above ground. Heck, Clark and I could get to work much faster which means you won’t have to complain about us being late! Half the bigwigs in the city will be there tonight - another opportunity to do political networking. Applegate will love…” her voice trailed off as she realized just why her boss had asked that particular question.
Perry smiled with undisguised glee. “That’s perfect Lois! You are already familiar with the material.” He handed her a small envelope. Here’s your press pass and invitation.”
“Chief! I’m an investigative reporter! I do the City Beat! Since Applegate’s sick, ask Meyers or Richardson … even Peggy!”
“Nothing doing! Since you live so close to the Nuber Avenue station, the story will have a definite personal touch! The assignment is all yours. I want that copy to sing the praises of the MTS!”
Seeing her plans for a quiet evening at home evaporating she turned to Clark, and said, “Why can’t he do it?”
Before Clark could answer Perry responded, “Because I want my ‘senior’ City Beat reporter covering this story. There is no reason for both of you to be involved. Besides, Kent has to finish writing up that article on China’s new president. On your way out, grab Jack from the darkroom, this story needs pictures.”
Lois’ started to pout, opened her lips to speak and then decided against it. Once again Perry had her dead to rights. “Fine! I’m going straight there!”
“Great, you can phone in the story to Elsie! Don’t forget I want six inches of a crisply written story ... with pictures!”
“Yeah, right. Applegate and his stupid cold in the middle of the spring - buddy boy, you owe me!” The words were fairly growled from Lois’s throat as she stormed up the ramp and caught the elevator.
“Perry, she’s really steamed. Why did you insist on her covering the event? Any of the people she mentioned – besides me – would have been perfect for the assignment.”
“That’s true, but none of those folks would be able to write it from the angle of someone who will personally benefit from this new subway line. Besides, Lois always tries to avoid events like this. She may be an investigative reporter, but every once in awhile she needs to mix with the ‘common herd’ as it were. It’ll keep her sharp.” Perry gave Clark a conspiratorial wink and then went back to his office
Clark chuckled softly as he turned back to his monitor to complete work on the new Chinese President article. He thought, <Hey don’t tell her that!>
An hour later the story was e-mailed to Perry. Just as Clark was about to shut off his computer, the phone rang. “Clark Kent, city desk!” He said.
A familiar voice came over the phone line, “Hey buddy, want to hang out with me and Skip this evening?”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea, we could grab a burger at Café Americana…” Abruptly his super hearing kicked in and he heard {Somebody stop the train! He’s had a heart attack!}
“Pete! I gotta go!” Dropping the phone back on its rest, Clark jumped and ran up the stairs towards the roof. He burst onto the roof and looked around, no one was there. Swiftly, he changed his clothes by spinning rapidly; a technique the other Clark had taught him when he visited that universe with Mr. Wells. He emerged wearing the now familiar suit of Superman. With a running leap he jumped into the air and for the first time in this world savored the sweet freedom of flight without concern for his identity.
A sonic boom sounded though the canyons of Metropolis’ skyscrapers and pedestrians looked up in the sky to see where the sound came from. They were greeted to the amazing sight of a man wearing blue and red as he flew towards the Nuber Avenue entrance to the Metroliner.
Back in the newsroom all was still, since most of the night crew was gathered around the coffee machine or in the conference room; they failed to see Clark’s hasty departure. Suddenly a lone figure exited the morgue and noticed that a particular computer was still running and had not yet gone into lock mode. Ralph walked over, checked to see that no one was looking, sat down and then began typing.
***
After a quick cab ride to the new station, Lois and Jack had to wait their turn with several other journalists who were also going underground to interview political notables MTS executives and Hollywood celebrities attending the event. Upon reaching the escalators they descended four hundred feet into a gleaming wonderland of chrome, steel and wood. The station was set up so that visitors could navigate through the main transit hall, which held several shops and restaurants. It was a huge elliptical and airy space measuring over three hundred feet in length.
Jack whistled appreciately as he looked around. “This station is fantastic! My brother and I could play football here!”
“Don’t let station security catch you!” His companion said with a chuckle. “Nuber Avenue Station is the jewel of MTS system. They want the country and the world to know Metropolis has the infrastructure to play host to international commerce and draw Hollywood studios like Galaxy and Mammoth to shoot their movies here. New York, Los Angeles and Chicago watch out! Here we come!”
“That’s going to be the angle of your article?”
At this point, they had reached the bottom of the escalator and Lois was standing on tiptoe searching for a familiar face. “Yeah, now if I can just snag one MTS official to get this story started.”
It took over ten minutes, but eventually Lois was able to locate and interview the station manager; Mr. Marc Baylor, a short man with small curious eyes gazed at her through horn rim glasses. The poor fellow had been talking for so long his voice had gone hoarse. He was trying to explain the many technical aspects of the station and the underground transport line that it supported. A number of architects and politicians had fought against the new line, but the growth of Metropolis’ population demanded a faster, more efficient underground transport system from the outlaying areas of the city.
Lois smiled inwardly; it was encouraging to see a man in such an important position who was passionate about his work and not willing to palm this interview off on an underling. Surreptitiously she noticed a number of transit workers moving swiftly to the station office. The mood within the station which only moments before was jubilant and relaxed had been replaced with the crackle of tension in the air.
Jack, who was snapping pictures of celebrities and politicians had also become aware of a shift in the mood of the transit workers. He stepped closer to Lois, just in case anything bad was about to happen he wanted to protect his co-worker and friend.
A sweaty transit worker trotted over to Mr. Baylor, whispered something in his ear and then rushed away. Baylor failed to conceal a tremor in his voice when he said to Lois, “Well! Ah, Miss Lane, that’s about all I have to say, gotta report to the station office. You and Mr. Bartholomew enjoyed the festivities.” With those words, the little man swiftly followed after his colleague.
Sensing there was more going on than just waiting for the new train to enter the station, Lois stuffed her recorder into her briefcase and began following the track workers, who were now joined by station security and EMT personnel. She called over her shoulder, “Come on Jack, something’s happening!”
At first there was a low rumble of voices, she heard words like; Stroke. Heart attack. Dead man’s switch. Unstoppable. Just as she reached the station office, a bear of a police officer came running out and passed Lois. Overhead the PA rumbled into life, and a man’s voice, brusque, yet professional, reached her ears.
“ATTENTION! ATTENTION! EVERYONE, PLEASE WALK QUICKLY TOWARDS THE SOUTHBOUND EXIT.”
The announcement was repeated twice, followed by dead silence, abruptly, people heard the far-off sound of the train and suddenly as a group they understood the nature of the emergency. Immediately, a stampede of frantic people ran for the far end of the station. Which happened to be at the exact opposite end of where the train was supposed to complete its inaugural run. In the distance, the sound of steel screaming against steel could be heard. A gust of cold air blew past her face leaving a shiver of fear running through her body. <The train!> She thought, <The train is out of control and no one can stop it!>
Fear, like a wintry sluice of washed over her body, if she, Jack and the rest of the crowd didn’t get out of here, there would be no story, no evening edition, no life for any of them.
A firm hand took hold of her elbow and she heard Jack’s voice say with calm tones belying his youth, “Lois … we need to make tracks and I don’t mean for the train.”
Quickly they began pushing with the rest of the frightened mob for the steel escalators and concrete staircases leading to the surface. She was surprised at Jack’s strength, if it weren’t for him holding her steady, she might have fallen and been trampled by the crowd.
Because of his determination they reached the bottom of the stairwell. But it was four long flights of steps and scores of frightened people were between them and reaching the surface. The train moving a full speed would slam into the barrier wall. The shock wave would move through the underground and who knew how the surrounding rock, concrete and metal would be affected.
Lois turned her head and she saw a streak of silver and blue, the train was coming into the station! Adrenaline pumped through her veins, firing muscles and sinew her feet began to move faster when a startled voice cried out.
“Hey look! There’s some nut in a suit on the track!”
The man, for that was what he was, held the train with strong arms, actually slowing the gigantic train down, the air filled with the sounds of metal screeching on metal. She and many others turned to watch in what must surely be the last moments of their lives as a man braced the train and steadily it slowed to a stop mere inches from the barrier.
The air in the station was now deadly still; onlookers walked cautiously over to where the train had stopped. Swiftly, the brightly garbed man attempted to open the lead car. When it refused to budge, he gently, but completely removed the door from off its hinges.
Before the sounds of tearing metal had stopped, the stranger entered the operator’s cab; seconds later he emerged, carrying the unconscious form of the driver. He called to the nearest transit worker in a firm, authorative voice. “This man has had a heart attack; I’m taking him to MetroGen.”
Lois stood, mouth agape, looking at this marvelous example of male yumminess wearing blue and red spandex as he swiftly carried the train operator as if the man were a child’s doll, past the crowd of stunned onlookers and made his way to the stairs; his long red cape with the ‘S’ symbol floating majestically down his massive shoulders. Any thought of Clark Kent flowed away from her mind with all the ease of sweet, fresh churned butter over a hot, steaming biscuit. She sensed Jack coming up behind her, without taking her eyes off the hero she said, “P … please tell me you are taking pictures of … Mr. Muscles!”
The sound of the camera’s shutter going off was heard when Jack replied, “Yeah! These should convince Perry to move me up to fulltime staff photographer!”
“Great! Forget about calling this story into Elsie! Let’s get upstairs and grab a cab! I’m writing up this story before somebody tries to beat me to the punch!” An odd notion erupted into her mind as they moved towards the exit. “Jack, you … you don’t suppose that this ‘guy’ is the … well The Haze?”
The youngster gave a shrug and pointed back to the train, “I haven’t seen anybody else around who can bench press a train like that, have you?”
Before Lois could respond to her companion’s statement, she heard one of the transit workers voice carry above all the noise, “That guy was pretty amazing … you know … Super!”
Super? Yeah, Lois thought, he was that all right and a whole lot more!
It only took them a few moments to run up the steep stairs into the welcome sights and sounds of downtown Metropolis at night. Although this night was very different. They were both determined to get to the Planet as quickly as possible and file the story. Unfortunately, several other members of the Fourth Estate had the same idea, but it was almost impossible for them to get to their respective newspaper offices. The streets were jammed with police cars, red lights flashing, shiny, black limousines of dignitaries and of course ubiquitous TV camera crews. Chief among them was an obnoxious reporter from LNN’s entertainment division, trying to interview a Hollywood couple who were there for the event.
As soon as Lois and Jack emerged from the depths of the station, she searched in vain for the man in the red cape and blue tights, but did not see him. Around her people in utter disbelief kept saying he had literally flown the injured train driver to MetroGen.
“That’s impossible,” she mumbled. “No one can fly. At … at least no one of this Earth.” The thought made her swallow hard around a tight lump in her throat. This mystery man, this … ‘Mr. Muscles’ had to be from Earth. Maybe he was a government experiment, one that had gone very well indeed! Whoever the scientist was, she certainly didn’t skimp on the looks department! Sudden a familiar shouting voice broke into her roaring thoughts, “Hey Lois, over here! I got us a cab!”
Shouldering her briefcase and cursing the fact that she was wearing pumps – even if they were her favorites - Lois ran towards the familiar yellow Metrocab. If the guy got them to the Daily Planet in record time, she was going to give him a ridiculously HUGE tip!
Fifteen minutes later a frantic Lois exploded from the elevator and ran down the ramp, Jack following not two steps behind. Ralph narrowly avoided being run over by the duo. His plain face twisted into an ugly grimace, annoyed that they ignored him. In their haste they never said a word of apology.
He muttered some choice words under his breath and then continued walking up the ramp; his hand was protectively covering his jacket pocket …
“Jack! Get those pixs developed, make sure Mitch Ryder, the night editor gets ‘em ASAP!”
“You got it!” he said and vanished into the darkroom.
Just as soon as her computer completed booting up Lois began typing or rather banging out the story on the keyboard. Minutes later her head went up sharply when she heard the sound of Clark whistling happily. On one level her mind was pleased, for the first time since Lana’s marriage announcement he seemed like the naive young man from Kansas, she met nearly a year ago. Than the image of the handsome, powerful stranger in the Metro station pushed aside those memories and she kept typing, faster than ever.
He walked over to her desk and watched, fascinated by her typing. “Lo-is, hey Lois! Where’s the fire? What’s got you and Jack so excited?”
She looked at her partner in amazement, shook her head and went back to typing, “Kansas, what rock have you been hiding under tonight? The train driver had a heart attack and the dead man switch failed to operate. The train was going to collide into the station, but a man stopped it! MTS’s Nuber Avenue station is crawling with people trying to find out who the guy was! An amazing fella in blue tights of all things! I don’t care what I have to do, that man is mine! I’ll bet anything he’s The Haze!”
If Lois could see the expression on Clark’s face, she would have ceased typing. He was looking at her with a stunned expression. The last thing he wanted was for her to use the Daily Planet’s front page to officially saddle him with such a preposterous name. Before he could say anything the elevator doors opened, Pete Ross and one the former occupants of Clark’s apartment, Skip came out and joined them in the bullpen. Pete said, “Hey Clark, where have you been? I thought the line was disconnected. Oh hi, Lois. Wanna come with us a grab a couple of burgers? We were thinking about going to your aunt and uncle’s place.”
She stopped typing long enough to look at Clark and his friends.
“Didn’t anybody ever tell you eating too much red meat is bad for your health? On second thought, considering the fact that you guys are a couple of hard bodies, a few extra calories won’t make a difference. Now, could everybody please leave me alone so I can write my story in peace?”
Clark bent over her shoulder, stared at the monitor and said, “There are two o’s in coronary.”
“Kansas, now is not the time to be editing my copy! My story’ gotta be finished before Mitch gets here or worst yet Perry. This is a historic event!”
At that moment, Skip’s stomach growled and he looked at them sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m super hungry.”
A slow, sweet smile spread across Lois mouth and she laughed out loud.
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Clark asked cautiously.
“Mr. Muscles now has a name. No one should call someone like him, something as commonplace as The Haze! Talk about insulting!” Her brown eyes took on a dreamy quality and she continued, “What a man! Yum! No, from now on, I use the name … Superman!”
Relief swept over Clark, finally the right name! Although he was a little worried, from her dreamy expression Lois seemed to have developed a crush on his alter ego. Who knew what manner of problems that could lead to! Still, it was great to return to the early days of their relationship when their camaraderie was innocent and new. He looked at Pete, who had a quizzical expression on his face, but Clark shook his head slightly they would talk about this development later.
“Ah, you got ‘Superman’ from my stomach?” Skip asked innocently.
But Lois was no longer listening to the men in the room. If it were at all possible, her fingers were flying even faster over the keyboard.
“Lois, can I bring you back something? Maybe a chilled asparagus salad?”
She ignored him and waving her hand said, “Yeah, yeah go get your burgers!”
“Come on fellas,” Clark said shaking his head. “She’s in ‘Kerth’ mode, nothing and no one is going to stop her.”
The three young men started walking towards the ramp when Clark noticed his computer was on. He went over to turn it off and when the monitor sprang to life it was not at the screen where he had left it. For some reason, an uneasy feeling like a troop of tiny ants wearing ice cube boots running up and down his back hit him. He vaguely remembered seeing Ralph leaving the building as he was coming in. He would have to check his keyboard later, now would not be the right time, especially with Skip and Lois around. Nonetheless, despite his misgivings, as the elevator doors closed he smiled at himself. Superman – not The Haze – had made his debut!
***
Meanwhile several blocks away, Ralph strolled over to a phone booth; his hand shook slightly as two quarters fell noisily down the narrow slot. With any luck the information he had gotten from Kent’s computer would be enough to keep Bonesteel happy. He looked nervously over his shoulder as the phone rang on the other end. For some strange reason the sparse mousey brown hairs on the back of his balding head were standing up.
After three rings a familiar voice came over the phone, “Yes”
“Boney, it me, Ralph, got something for you ... straight off Kent’s computer.”
“Just a minute please.” A hand was placed over the receiver; Ralph could barely make out Bonesteel’s muffled voice talking with someone.
“Very well Mr. Lombard. Please come over at once. I hope for your sake this is something that will be worth your ‘pay’.”
The reporter swallowed and said. “It is! Kent’s planning on writing an article about this French company that’s taking advantage of loopholes in American corporate tax law. The company is called TresAx.”
