Summary: When the Kents fail to be the ones to find Kal-El’s spaceship, the boy’s entire fate changes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make nothing. All Superman characters, plot points, and recognizable dialogue belong to DC Comics, Warner Bros., December 3rd Productions and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise. I don’t own anything from the Assassin’s Creed franchise either. That all belongs to UbiSoft, Anvil Next, and was created by Patrice Désilets, Jade Raymond and Corey May. I also don’t own any Batman characters, as they are owned by DC Comics, Warner Bros., and anyone else with a stake in that franchise.
Author's Note: Special thanks go to Val and Feli, my betas, who not only encouraged my evilness but goaded it on. Thanks for always being there for me to bounce ideas off of and for never telling me to stop as I rambled on about things from the games that were basically foreign to you!
Warning: I took my toys out of the box on this one and mangled them beyond belief. There’s no putting them back in the box at the end of this tale.
***
“No, no, no!” the man said irritably, reading over a stack of legal contracts. He smacked the page before him with the back of his hand and he ranted. “This will never do!”
“What’s the matter, dear?” his wife asked tiredly from the seat across from him in the back of the modest limousine. She looked over, concerned.
“Eugene’s contracts. He’s making too many concessions. I know he’s trying his best to make sure that the merger happens, but I never authorized half of these changes he’s trying to make.”
She arched her eyebrow. “You think he’s trying to sabotage us?”
The man sighed and shook his head. “No. At least, not deliberately. But he’s young and inexperienced – too hungry to get his first successful contract under his belt.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought down his annoyance. “I should have never hired him. I know he’s George’s son and all but…I’m starting to feel like it was a serious mistake, bringing him into the business.”
“You need to talk to him,” his wife said diplomatically.
“As soon as we get to a phone,” he agreed with a stoic nod.
“When will that be, anyway?” whined their son. “I’m tired of driving around endlessly.”
“Soon enough,” the man said affectionately.
“I think you mean not soon eno…”
The boy’s words cut off with as gasp as the entire sky lit up with a streak of light. The entire family scrambled to the left side of the car, pressing up against the tinted windows, following the light with their eyes. It seemed to be descending from the sky; on a crash course with the open field they were driving alongside.
“Stop! Stop the car!” the man commanded.
The car came to a crunching halt on the old dirt road. Puffs of dust rose up from the parched earth, hardly visible in the darkening evening. The driver dutifully cut the engine as soon as he could and the world grew still and quiet. Too quiet. The few birds that had been chirping had grown still and quiet. No frogs croaked in the encroaching darkness. Even the insects had gone mute. It was as if the entire world had decided to hold its breath in watchful waiting, or if some mystical force had put a spell over everything. Even the occupants of the car didn’t dare to speak right away, as if their tongues had suddenly ceased to function.
They got out of the car and stood motionless for a long moment. The humid May night air hung around them like a heavy, wet blanket, stifling them. Above, the sky was a deep navy, but not yet the black of the full dark. Thousands of stars had already come out to play, though more would come with the complete darkness. The silver moon smiled his broad, full face down on the land – a perfect silver coin hanging suspended and untouchable in the heavens.
Nothing stirred. Not even a breath of wind dared to break the perfect stillness of the world. The rich scent of the fertile farmlands filled their nostrils and the blades of ankle high grass tickled their skin. They looked to each other, then nodded as the words passed between them, unspoken. The driver tipped his hat to them; he would stay behind with the car.
The man and woman started off in the direction they’d seen the bright streak of light head. They could see the faint light of a fire in the distance. It would be enough to guide them in the right direction. But just a few steps later, they turned back, sensing that they were being followed.
“Stay here,” the man said, frowning.
“But, I want to go with you,” came the mild protest.
“No,” the man said, shaking his head. “It may be dangerous.”
“You’re letting her go,” the preteen said with a grunt, nodding toward the woman.
“You will not speak so condescendingly of your mother,” warned the boy’s father. “I need her with me. You will stay with Bernard. Understood?”
The boy narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Yes, father,” he said with hollow obedience.
“Good. We won’t be long,” his father assured him.
“Why do you even care about whatever that light was?” the boy asked sulkily. “I just want to get out of this rathole countryside.”
“Whatever that was, it was something out of the ordinary,” his father patiently explained, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “If that was a meteorite or something, it must be of a decent size to have not burned up in the Earth’s atmosphere. Which means we can sell it to the highest bidder for a healthy price if it holds nothing of scientific importance.”
The boy frowned as he thought it over. “I guess,” he allowed.
“Good. Now, your mother and I will be back soon. And then we will be on our way to our associate’s home and out of these backwoods farmlands.” He turned from his son and took his wife’s hand. “Come, dear.”
Then they were off again, picking their way over the uneven ground of the field, toward the source of the streaking light they’d seen. They made their way carefully, but as speedily as they could. Fortunes could be made or lost in seconds. Each moment that passed brought a greater chance that someone else who may have seen the light could go, investigate, and lay first claim to whatever lay in the darkening distance. Minutes seemed to stretch out into days until, at last, they began to see churned up soil and charred grass in a long, fresh new scar in the earth. Small, inconsequential fires burned here and there, already flickering with the last bits of life as they died out.
“What is that?” the man asked, peering into the darkness and pointing.
“I’m not sure,” the woman hesitantly replied, squinting in an effort to see better.
They slowed their pace by some unspoken agreement, now exercising extreme caution. It was clear that they were not approaching a meteorite. In a pile of dirt and at a precarious angle, a small, shiny metal object had come to rest. What color the object truly was, neither of them could tell. It reflected back the orange glow of the dying fires around, but the top gleamed nearly silver from the moon and starlight above.
The man stopped at the edge of the shallow crater the impact had caused. He looked down on the sleek object, his eyes wide in surprise.
“This is no meteorite,” he whispered in an awed tone.
“Is that…” his wife asked, unable to finish.
“I think so.” He nodded uncertainly.
“A spacecraft,” the woman breathed in disbelief.
“Do you think we should…open it?” the man gulped in indecision. This was far beyond anything he’d anticipated.
“Of course!” his wife said, her voice both encouraging and trying to hurry him up. Her eyes sparkled and glee seemed to dance in those twin orbs. “The writing on this thing…it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. And I’m familiar with many languages.”
“You think it’s…alien?” There was no mocking in his voice, only interest.
“If I had to guess…yes. Now, quickly, let’s get this thing open. We could be on the verge of the discovery of the century! Imagine it. If this thing really is alien technology, and we can reverse engineer it, we’d be the richest people in the world, Lionel.”
Lionel’s eyes lit up. “We already are rather well off. However, what you say is very true. All right, let’s see what this is.” He squatted down, careful not to soil his suit with the dusty earth. “Lighter than it looks,” he commented in surprise as he pulled the craft out of the crater. He dragged it over to the side, onto the grass. “I wonder how this thing opens,” he whispered to himself as he searched for a door or window or some kind of mechanism to unlock the craft.
As if on command, the top of the tiny craft opened to expose the inner pod. A tiny infant, no older than two or three months old, lay nestled within, wrapped warmly in a dark blue blanket embroidered with a stylized S symbol inside of a diamond shape. The baby looked at them with curious, intelligent brown eyes and he smiled, reaching for them instinctively. He cooed gently at them, almost in expectation that he would soon be picked up and cradled in their arms.
“Oh my God! Lionel! It’s a baby,” the woman said in a gentle voice. She quickly swooped down and plucked the infant from his capsule. She cradled him to her chest and murmured soothing coos back to him.
“Letitia,” the man warned only half-heartedly.
“Lionel,” she replied, not taking her eyes off the child she held.
“Honey, I know what you’re thinking,” Lionel said, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. “But we can’t keep him. He’s…not…”
“He may not be from Earth,” Letitia said firmly, “but he’s…an answer to our prayers.”
“I know you might think that he is, but he’s not human. Taking him in won’t replace her.” His voice was soft and low, not wishing to upset his wife.
“I don’t want to replace Lena! I’ve spent the last year trying to make sense of why she passed away at only six months old! No one…nothing…could ever take her place, Lionel. But this little one…he needs a home. And maybe…maybe he can help our family heal.” Her voice never broke above a near whisper, but the intensity of it nearly staggered Lionel. He’d rarely ever seen his wife so passionate about anything.
“I don’t know,” he stammered, mentally running through the pros and cons of taking in an alien foundling.
“Well, I do. He’s ours now, Lionel, whether you like it or not. I won’t leave him here to die of exposure. And I will not surrender him to some orphanage to live out his childhood waiting for a home. We have more than enough of everything to spare. He will have the best life imaginable living with us.”
Lionel looked at his wife, seeing once again how their infant daughter’s untimely death had aged her. Her once flawless features were now lined and tired looking. Though she regularly dyed her hair, Lionel knew that since Lena had been found dead in her crib one morning, gray hairs had plagued Letitia. He knew she hadn’t slept a full night since that awful morning. She often prowled their mansion all throughout the small hours of the night, clutching the stuffed elephant that had been Lena’s favorite toy. She was a woman tormented by a grief that seemed only to grow, not shrink, with the passage of time.
“All right,” he said, putting his arms around his wife and holding her closely. “All right. We will take him in. He’ll be our son.”
“Really?” Letitia asked, her eyes welling up as she gazed at the baby, who was sucking his thumb sleepily.
“Really,” he assured her, then affectionately stroked the baby’s soft hair. “It’ll take some paperwork, but I’ll have our lawyers on things in the morning. In the meantime, we’ll have to think of a name.”
“It has to be perfect,” Letitia mused.
They fell silent for a moment, both of them with their faces upturned to the universe from whence the child had fallen from, like an angel with a broken wing. But as blissful as Letitia looked, Lionel couldn’t help but worry. The child wasn’t human, even if, at first glance, he appeared to look exactly like one. What differences, if any, would this boy have that might set him apart from his peers? What would the fallout be for their family, if it was ever discovered that they had taken in an alien? Certainly, with their wealth and status, they could not afford to be known as a family with an extraterrestrial in their household. It could spell the absolute downfall and obliteration of their company.
A noise broke off his train of thought. A voice. For a moment, panic shot through him. They could not be seen at the sight of a crashed spacecraft! He looked this way and that, craning his neck, looking into the now fully dark night. But there was no one. And yet, the talking persisted.
The craft!
The voice was coming from the capsule the baby had been bundled into!
Lionel stepped away from his wife and squatted down beside the sleek metal ship. There, inside, was a small globe that glowed with a soft blue light. He plucked it out of the craft and held it up for inspection. It wasn’t a big object by any means. It fit neatly into the palm of his hand. The map face was strange though – it didn’t resemble the familiar continents of Earth. It had to be of whatever alien world this child had come from. Faint singing came from the globe in a woman’s voice. After a moment, the song ended, and the woman spoke.
“Sleep now, my dear Kal. Know that I am with you in your dreams, my beloved son.”
Then the voice resumed her singing; this time a different song that flowed as gently as any Earth-born lullaby. Lionel slipped the globe into his pocket, then grabbed hold of the ship. He stood and faced Letitia.
“I’ll carry the craft, you carry the baby.”
“Kal.”
“What?”
“The voice…it called him Kal. I think…I think that was his mother,” Letitia said thoughtfully.
“It could be the voice of God,” Lionel said, grunting as he lifted the capsule off the ground. Dragging it out of the shallow crater hadn’t been as difficult as lifting it high enough to carry it back to the car. “We can still name him whatever you wish.”
“What do you think, little one?” Letitia asked the sleeping baby. She sighed. “I’m not sure why you’re here. I don’t know what happened to your parents. But your mother loved you enough to send you messages to last your journey, and lullabies to remind you of her voice. I will respect her by using the name she chose for you, my little Kal.”
“Kal,” Lionel said, turning the name over on his tongue. “A good, solid name. Well befitting of a Luthor. But come, let’s hurry and get back to the car.”
Letitia nodded as she started to walk. “Of course. Our new son will probably be hungry soon and need new diapers. There has to be a store somewhere around here where we can get what he needs.”
Together, they once again picked their way across the field, this time guided by the beam of a flashlight that Bernard held, swinging the light across the field, searching for some sign that they were on their way back. The going was much slower this time. Letitia feared to startle the infant in her arms. And Lionel, though strong, struggled with the weight of the capsule Kal had arrived in. But, at last, they reached the car. Bernard breathed a sigh of relief when he saw them approaching. He started toward them, then stopped in confusion, while the couple’s son sat sulking in the back seat of the car, the door open to let in what precious little breeze blew.
“Alex! Come here,” Lionel called, and the preteen looked up sharply at the sound of his name.
“What?” Alex asked, moodily.
“Your mother and I want you to meet someone.”
“Who? Some yokel farmer?” the boy asked with obvious distaste.
“No,” Letitia said with a soft scold. “We want you to meet your new brother, Kal.”
To Be Continued…
