Continued from:
Chapter 9 [CHAPTER 10 - News]
The first person she called was Jimmy. As kind as Eleanor was in letting Kal-El borrow (or have?) her son's clothing, there was no way on all that was holy that she was going to let him leave the apartment in sweat pants and a stained old T-shirt. There was also the issue of shoes.
“Hello?” Jimmy answered.
“Hi, Jimmy, it's Lois. I need you to do something very important for me and I'll pay you back with interest and when you learn why you'll completely understand and be happy for helping me but until then I need you to: ask no questions, go to a clothing store and get the following. Uh, you have a pen and paper ready?” she asked, forgoing pleasantries.
“Uh, yeah, yeah,” he said, the sound of scrambling loud in the background. “Okay, ready.”
“One large shirt, one pair of slacks or jeans - uhh,” she hesitated but quickly went with her best guess. “Waist 34 inches, length 36, maybe 38. Shoes and socks size 12 or 13. Oh! And boxers,” she listed off.
“Uhh, alright, Lois. Any particular style?”
“Casual, I suppose. Yeah, it should be comfortable but presentable.”
“Oookaaaay,” Jimmy said, still not exactly sure what this was about but he had learned to just go with whatever Lois said.
“When you have everything on that list, come to my apartment and don't bring attention to what you're doing, but if Perry tries to redirect you on to something else, tell him I told you it is imperative that you do this and that I'll take whatever heat when I get back, which I doubt I'll get when he learns what's going on. Anyway, do you think you can get all of this by lunch?”
“Yeah, I should be able to,” Jimmy said, one of the few people on the face of the planet that was used to her babble.
“Thank you, Jimmy. And remember to bring your camera, you might need it later.”
“Okay, will do, Lois,” Jimmy said, perking up upon hearing that. “See you at lunch.”
“Bye, Jimmy.”
She picked up the phone again and called her dad. She had promised him an update.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Princess!” he said, happy.
“I just wanted to give you a quick update on your long distance patient. He's doing much better and is no longer cold. Thanks again for the medical advice. Anyway, I've got to go. Love you, Dad.”
“Er, glad to hear the mystery fella is doing better. And love you too, pumpkin,” he said, a little taken aback by the sudden and brief call but he supposed he should be happy with any call at all. A moment later, Lois hung up.
She had considered asking him about amnesia, but felt that might lead him to certain conclusions that would be way too close to the truth, if not the truth. Besides, Kal-El seemed to be functioning well enough, he just needed someone to help jog his memory. If he still didn't have his memory after a few days, then she would look more closely at her options, and of course include Kal-El on those decisions. He had made it clear he didn't want to go to the hospital, even in his bewildered state. No, it was better if she tried to help him herself first.
“Alright, now Perry,” she said, taking a breath to prepare herself.
The front desk quickly redirected her call to Perry's office.
“Where in Sam Hill are you, Lois?! Jimmy said you have him on an urgent errand?!” he bellowed.
“Perry, I swear to you I'm on something big and Jimmy is--”
“Shopping, I know, but I want to know why. The world is scrambling due to what's happened, we have news to report. Stuff is happening as we speak! We don't have time for side activities like this.”
“Perry, for this we must take time, please, trust me.”
He grew silent on the other end, and Lois was gearing up for a fight. Finally, he spoke.
“You found him, didn't you?” He said it so softly that only her years of working with him allowed her to piece together the words from the snippets of syllables she had managed to hear.
She didn't answer. She didn't need to.
“Call in the story as soon as you can, and Lois?”
“Yeah, Chief?” she asked more than a little meekly.
“Tell him we're grateful and to take as long as he needs.”
“I will, Chief.”
He hung up.
“Everything alright, Lois?” Eleanor asked as she entered the living room.
Eleanor was watching the news but had turned the volume low. Lois couldn’t see the screen where she was at, but heard something about EPRAD. She didn’t want to get distracted so ignored it.
“Yeah, I think so,” Lois said, deciding not to think too much on the Chief, except to be happy he was her boss. “I'm going to get us some things to eat, since there's nothing really substantial here and I think Kal should eat something more than snack food. I don't know how many things will be open right now, especially with everything going on, but I don't want to risk the grocery store. I'll try the fast food place around the corner. Is there anything you want in particular?”
“Nothing with beef. Anything else is fine,” she said.
Lois nodded and grabbed her purse before giving a worried look to the bedroom door.
“He'll be fine,” Eleanor assured.
Lois frowned. “Eleanor, did you happen to overhear any of my conversation with him a little bit ago?”
“No, I tend to avoid eavesdropping, and my hearing isn't what it used to be anyway, dear,” she said, curious.
“He doesn't remember anything. He has amnesia. Bad. He doesn't even know who he is,” she said nervously.
Eleanor gasped. “That's horrible!”
“So when I get back I'm going to try to help him remember.”
“Well, he's in good hands then. I shudder to think what might have happened if he hadn't been able to make it here.”
“Yeah, which is why I’m not thinking about it,” Lois stated.
“There’s vigils everywhere for him,” Eleanor said suddenly. “The biggest is around his Foundation. Understandably, there are also massive celebrations occurring around the world because of what he did. It’s really quite amazing,” she said, motioning to the television. “Reminds me of when people everywhere were praying for the astronauts of Apollo 13.”
“So the asteroid . . . ?” she asked, not wanting to assume anything despite initial reports.
“It’s been completely shattered and the remains are no longer in line to hit Earth. They unequivocally confirmed it about half an hour ago.”
Lois heaved a sigh of relief. “Alright. I’ll be back in a little bit. Lock the door behind me.”
Eleanor followed her to the door and did just that.
O o O o O
Kal-El closed the bathroom door and looked in the mirror, scissors in hand. Lois and Eleanor had done a decent job cleaning him up the previous night, but there was still remnants of whatever that stuff was in his hair and on his skin. He couldn't wait to learn what had happened to him, but Lois was right. They could talk while they ate, after he got dressed.
He cut off the remains of his 'uniform’ and jumped in the shower, hoping he would just be in for five or so minutes. Unfortunately, it took him longer than he had expected to get the last of the black, stubborn residue off his skin and out of his hair.
He stepped from the shower and grabbed a towel half an hour later. Glancing in the mirror, he combed his fingers through his hair, letting it stay slicked back the way it had been before the shower -- if only to keep his hair from his forehead so he could have more skin exposed to the sunlight still pouring in from the window.
He got the clean boxers and sweats on, deciding not to think on whether or not the boxers had ever been worn by someone else as he went back to the bedroom and pulled back the curtains to allow direct sunlight to enter. He left the shirt off, not wanting to immediately cover skin that had only recently been painfully raw and tender. Not when it felt so wonderful to be in the light.
“Kal-El?” a soft voice asked from beyond the room.
It wasn't Lois, but he recognized it. It was elderly and feminine.
He moved from the window and regretfully put the shirt on.
“Yes?” he answered, stepping from the room in his bare feet to find the old woman who had helped Lois save his life.
She looked at him, no doubt comparing his appearance to how she had last seen him. Seeing the vast improvement, she broke into a relieved grin.
“I am so happy you're doing better. It's going to be a huge relief to so many people once they learn you're alright,” she said.
“Thanks, and thank you for helping me last night, uh, Eleanor,” he said, suddenly realizing how little he knew about the two who had saved him. “Um, I'm not sure if Lois told you, but--”
“She did,” Eleanor said, saving him from awkwardly continuing. She stepped toward him and pat his arm. “Don't worry, if anyone can help you get your memory back, it's Lois. That girl is remarkable, and I don't just say that about anyone.”
Kal-El nodded before following her into the kitchen.
“I have some tea brewing. Would you like some?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Sugar? You look like a two or more sugars kind of man,” she said.
Kal-El chuckled, albeit a little embarrassed. “I think you're right,” he said, before they heard a knock at the door.
Eleanor quickly went and checked the peephole. Upon finding it was Lois, she let her in.
Keeping with her routine, Lois resecured the door behind her, even placing the deadbolts, before turning to Eleanor and Kal-El.
“Everyone up for breakfast burritos?” she asked, putting them on the table and taking a seat as Eleanor continued to prepare the tea.
“Thanks,” Kal-El said, taking the offered wrap though looking expectantly at her for something else.
“Alright. Answers,” Lois said with a deep breath. She glanced at Eleanor.
“I don't mind if she hears whatever you have to tell me,” Kal-El assured, quickly noticing her hesitancy and assuming the reason--however incorrect. “I mean, you both helped save my life.”
Lois smiled as they began to eat. “Alright. Well, a lot of this will be hard to believe, but it's true. Just let me know if you want me to slow down, okay?”
Kal-El raised an eyebrow, a little unnerved. “Okay.”
“Yesterday, you went out into space with a rocket and guided it into an asteroid that was headed to Earth. The asteroid was bigger than the one that destroyed the dinosaurs and if it had hit Earth, it would have meant the end of . . . well, it was doubtful that anything would have survived, let alone Humanity,” she said.
“But it's been stopped? I stopped it?” Kal-El asked, still confused about how he could have done so but more concerned about Earth--assuming this wasn't some bizarre dream.
“Yes. There's a lot more to tell you about yesterday, but I'll get into that in a moment. I think you want to know more about who you are, right?”
He nodded as Eleanor placed his tea before him and quietly sat in the empty chair at the table.
“You're a Kryptonian, a refugee who came to Earth many years ago. I don't know exactly when, but it was at least fifteen years ago. Anyway, you only revealed - or rather confirmed - your existence to the public a few months ago. Before that, you worked in secret, saving people and stopping disasters and stuff without being seen,” Lois said before taking a tentative bite of her burrito.
Kal-El frowned. “Kryptonian? Came to Earth?”
“I know, hard to believe, but you saw what sunlight did to you. And you can do things no one else can. As human as you look, you're--”
“An alien?” he finished for her, his voice edging toward being either appalled or incredulous - she couldn’t tell.
Lois blinked, a little surprised. “Does that bother you?”
He exhaled roughly and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I don't know. I suppose what you're saying makes sense. I mean, I do sort of remember getting to your window. I thought, hoped, it had been some kind of weird dream, but. . . . What else can I do?” he asked, looking back at her.
She got up. “One moment, I think it might be better to show you.”
She returned less than a minute later with a stack of newspapers and files. She placed the newspapers on the table. The top one had the article, 'Super but Not Supernatural’.
He quickly read it before putting it down and skimming through the others. Afterward, he shifted his chair back and took a few deep breaths while leaving the papers spread out among burrito wrappers.
“You wrote these?” he asked after a moment, glancing at the small portrait beside her name beneath the article's title and the sketched image of . . . himself.
“A few of them,” she admitted softly. “I'm an investigative reporter for the Daily Planet.”
Kal-El coughed, startling both Lois and Eleanor, before breaking down in laughter. It bordered on hysterical before he managed to calm himself.
“I now see what you meant, about not wanting to overwhelm me.”
“Are you alright?” Lois asked worriedly.
He nodded, whipping his eyes. “Looking at all this, at least I'm not viewed as a . . . a freak or something to fear - or worse.”
Lois caught Eleanor send her a side glance, and she knew they were both wondering if this involved his fear of hospitals.
“'Superman’ is a bit to live up to, though,” he continued. “I don't feel super, still feel a little sore if I'm honest, and I definitely don’t feel like I could do any of the things described here, let alone wear this uniform.”
“Don’t think of it as something you need to live up to, because I daresay you've already lived up to it. You stopped the asteroid, and your Foundation has already helped a lot of people,” Eleanor put in, trying to help settle things back down.
Kal-El frowned. “But I wasn't supposed to hit the asteroid, was I?” he asked, pointing to the last article that outlined EPRAD's plan. It even included the diagram they had used in the press conference.
“No, and that's the other thing I need to talk to you about,” Lois said nervously. “The rocket was sabotaged and communications were disrupted. I'm still trying to work it all out, but for some reason you determined you had to stay with the rocket until impact. I’m pretty sure someone didn’t just cut communications but redirected them because the coms were manipulated roughly three minutes before impact. In that time, I bet the people responsible communicated with you. It would explain your elevated heart rate that occurred before EPRAD even knew anything was wrong and why you sent a message that said ‘sabotage’ and ‘L’. I think you were trying to tell us who was responsible for the sabotage.” She took a deep breath. “I believe they knew you would stay with the rocket if there was a good enough reason: protecting Earth.”
“So someone tried to kill me?” he asked, far calmer than what Lois or Eleanor felt was healthy.
“I think so,” Lois said before pursing her lips together. “You seem really calm about that.”
“It is a little . . . troubling, but I don't feel it's--” He closed his eyes and shook his head, flashes of things appearing in his mind's eye: snippets of different moments in time.
Voices threatened him, most along the lines of ‘You’ll die for this!’ and 'Your days are numbered’. Dozens of eyes glared at him, belonging to individuals who he knew could no longer harm anyone.
“I guess I'm used to it?” he asked, confused.
“Did you just remember something?” Lois asked, excited and hopeful.
“Flashes. I've . . . upset a lot of people apparently. Very bad people. I don't know how I know that though.”
“That’s excellent!” Lois said thrilled, before realizing how bizarre that sounded. “I mean that you remembered something. I bet if we trigger enough memories it'll all come back to you.”
“That may be a bit of wishful thinking, Lois,” Eleanor gently cautioned. “We can definitely be hopeful, but I think we should avoid setting any expectations right now.”
She sighed, knowing the older woman was correct. “I suppose you're right.”
“But maybe we should consider asking a doctor?” Eleanor asked hesitantly. “Maybe there's things we can do that can trigger memories more quickly?”
“Would that be okay with you?” Lois asked, looking at Kal-El. “I could call my dad. He's a doctor and I did call him last night to get advice on how to help when you had hypothermia, though I didn't tell him who you were.”
“I guess that would be alright,” he slowly allowed. “Although I'm not sure anything a doctor might say about amnesia would help me. Does my brain work the same way as a human's?”
“Well, your body temperature runs a little higher, and your heart rate is a little slower than ours, but you once told me those were the only differences you could find, other than your abilities.”
“Did I tell you how my abilities worked?”
“No, unfortunately,” she admitted. “But what we did to help you last night was in line with what you would do with anyone, even clearing your lungs.”
Kal-El rubbed the front of his chest in memory. “That’s true.”
“Alright, I’ll call my dad later, unless you’d prefer a different doctor?” she asked uncertainly.
“Your father’s fine. At least one of us knows him,” he said with a small smile, trying to reassure her.
“Well, do you have any specific questions about yourself you want me to try to answer now or do you want me to go more into what happened yesterday?” Lois asked.
“My abilities. Did I read that right, that I can fly?” he asked.
“Yeah, you read it right. And yes, before you ask, you really did smother a bomb in the subway.”
“But this morning I was covered in bruises. So I can get hurt if I'm, what, in the dark?” he asked.
“I think it's dependant on how much energy you have at the time,” Lois guessed. “And if you have access to sunlight or not.”
Kal-El looked thoughtful. “That makes sense, especially after this morning.” He paused. “It did feel like I was being, well, filled up. I hadn't realized how empty I was until the light touched me.” He chuckled at himself. “Listen to me, I'm practically calling myself a battery.”
“Well, every living thing needs energy in some form, so in that sense we're all batteries,” Eleanor said.
“Thanks,” he said, touched by her tender efforts to assure him that he wasn't so different.
He sighed. “I just wish I could remember. I believe what you've told and shown me, but it's still hard to imagine. 'Super strength, speed, flight, super hearing, invulnerability . . .’” he said while counting off the powers the articles had described on his fingers. “To fly, do I jump into the air and just go up? How does that work? Please don't tell me that I flap my arms.”
“No, you sort of just, levitate, I guess. I can have Jimmy bring us some tapes at some point. Maybe that'll help.”
Kal-El nodded in agreement, relieved he would actually have some form of visual instruction, despite how weird it'll be to see himself actually fly - FLY! - and not remember doing it.
He suddenly frowned before looking back up at them.
“And there's no one else here like me?” he asked, his voice far quieter than it was a moment ago.
Solemn, Lois puts her hand over his.
“You said you were the only one who made it here. You even said that you've looked,” she said softly.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Lois and Eleanor remained quiet.
“You know, it's strange. I do feel alone, and yet. . . . It's as if I know something. It doesn't make it alright, but it . . .” he said, struggling to find the words. “It makes it a little better.” He heaved a sigh. “I just wish I could remember.”
“Well, I think the fact you can sense that there is something is a good sign. It must mean some part of you remembers, it's just buried right now,” Lois encouraged.
He nodded but didn't add anything.
“How about we check the news,” Eleanor suggested, seeing that they were done eating.
“Good idea,” Lois said. “I also need to check with Dr. Daitch at some point.”
“Daitch?” Kal-El asked.
“He's the head scientist at EPRAD,” Lois answered. “You worked with him to destroy the asteroid.”
After quickly clearing the table, they went to the living room and sat down. Lois and Kal-El took the couch while Eleanor took the loveseat beside her oxygen.
Handling the remote, Lois turned on the TV. She didn't need to flip through any channels as it was already on LNN.
The scene instantly had them all spellbound.
A reporter stood overlooking a building with thousands of people surrounding it, filling all of the streets that linked to it directly. The colors red and blue made up most of the peaceful crowd, swaying back and forth, as if in silent song.
“Here at the Headquarters of the Superman Foundation is just one of the vigils that have cropped up around the world for Superman. Sending prayers and good thoughts, I believe I speak for everyone gathered below when I say we hope for his safe and speedy return,” the reporter said before he covered his earpiece with his hand as he heard a question from the news station.
“EPRAD hasn't confirmed whether or not sabotage was involved yet, correct Doug?” a female voice asked.
“Not at this time. As you know, a representative from EPRAD spoke briefly to the crowd below thirty minutes ago but stated it was too early in the investigation to say definitively either way, although it is suspected, Linda.”
Lois fumed at that. “‘Too early’?! You spelled it out to us in your message to us! Argh!” she exclaimed at a somewhat bewildered Kal. She turned back to the screen. “I need to call Daitch,” Lois stated before shaking her head and changing the channel to another news station.
“Two more satellites are said to be out of their standard orbits and will fall back to Earth in the coming weeks,” a news anchor said, shuffling a stack of papers. “The EMP knocked out nearly all satellites that had been over the Atlantic Ocean and the Americas at the time of impact. EPRAD has also stated that communication with Prometheus has been touch and go.”
The co-news anchor took over. “According to an astronomer in Australia, an object entered the atmosphere last night after the amount of time it may have taken Superman to return. This news has sparked the formation of dozens of teams with one thing in mind: to find Superman. George is out in Metropolis now with one of these groups. George?--”
The news station switched cameras, showing a view of a reporter with a microphone in front of a makeshift group with serious expressions beside a street.
“Good morning, Al. I’m here with one of the groups that have recently formed to help find Superman. Late last night, an astronomer in Australia stated he spotted something entering the atmosphere and that it may have landed somewhere in Northern America. Although he admitted it could have been one of the damaged satellites, many are hoping it was not.”
He turned to one of the group members.
“Sir, can you tell us anything about what you and your team have been doing?” George asked.
“Er, yeah! We're looking for signs of Superman and asking people in the area if they saw anything last night. So far we have learned a number of people saw what they believed was a meteor heading northwest,” the man said excitedly.
“Do you think it may have been Superman?”
“That's what we're hoping, of course. The time and trajectory lines up so with any luck we'll find him once we zero in on the location. We're coordinating our efforts with a few other teams around the US, since he could have landed in the next state over due to the area we're looking at, you know?” the man explained.
“I see. And, assuming you find him, what then?” George asked.
“Help him if he needs it,” he said simply.
Kal-El shook his head, attracting Lois’ attention.
“I can't believe people are looking for me. I need to let people know I'm alright,” Kal-El said. “Is there someone we can, I don't know, call?”
Lois smiled. “Yeah, we can call your Foundation. I'll get my phone.”
Returning with the phone, she muted the television and began to hand her phone and the Foundation's number to Superman before pausing.
She suddenly looked at Kal-El. “Um, do you know what you’re going to tell them exactly? I mean, do you want them to know where you are or anything on what happened?”
He blinked, uncertain. “Well, I don't want to cause you any trouble, so I was just planning on letting them know I made it back. Maybe that I'm some place recovering,” he answered.
She nodded. “Good idea. Wait, what about your memory? If you talk to someone from the Foundation who knows you, do you think they’ll . . . notice?”
“Oh. Good point.” He frowned, thinking.
“Lois, you could just tell them he made it back but needs some time to rest and will return once he’s recovered,” Eleanor suggested.
Lois nodded, liking that idea. “Yeah. And when I don't tell them anything more they’ll just assume it's because I don't know. If they’re talking to you, you won’t have as much leeway I don’t think.”
He slowly nodded.
“You don't like that idea?” Lois asked, confused by his hesitancy. Personally, she didn't think it was a good idea to let people know more than absolutely necessary.
“I'm just thinking about . . . well, from the articles it sounded like I might have people out there who--” He looked at her apologetically. “Who really know me. Family maybe. Not blood related, obviously, but people who, I don't know, adopted me?”
Dawning realization came to her.
“And you don't want them to worry about why you're staying away? Why you haven't come home if we don’t share more?” she asked.
“Yeah, and then there's my memories. If they know I don't remember, maybe they could help? Although . . . maybe it's better for them to stay away. If they came to help me, the whole world would discover who they are.”
She frowned, suddenly recalling the reason he gave during the hearing for not answering certain questions.
He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t want to lie either. If I don’t get my memories back, how will that look when we finally come out and admit that I’ve got amnesia? Wouldn’t it be better to admit it outright?”
“Make it public?” Lois asked, more than a little alarmed.
“Perhaps just leave things vague at first? Give yourself some time,” Eleanor suggested. “That way if you recover your memories, we avoid the chance of a panic?”
“Would there really be a panic?” he asked, confused.
“It’s a possibility," Lois stated. Upon seeing his disbelieving expression, she pressed on. "Look, at the very least it would bring a lot of things into question. What will happen to your Foundation? Will you still be able to be Superman? Are you still you? What about the treaty you signed? Will you still honor it even though you don't remember signing it? The list goes on."
"Okay, I see what you're saying. We'll stick with your plan, but if I still can't remember after a while, we'll go from there. Also, if questions are asked, we won't lie.”
“Alright,” Lois said before dialing the number.
Unfortunately, she got a recording saying all lines were currently busy and to either wait or leave a message.
With a brief moment of hesitation, she clicked the number to leave a message.
‘We are sorry, but the voicemail is full and cannot accept any messages at this time. Goodbye.’
“Well, the Foundation is being inundated by callers. I’m going to try your press agent,” Lois said with a sigh.
“Press agent?” Kal-El asked, stunned.
“Yeah, he’s helped you out on making deals with companies wanting to sell your emblem and stuff,” Lois explained distractedly as she looked for Murray Brown’s number near the kitchen. “But he should be able to get us in contact with the Foundation since I imagine he has the personal numbers of the people who run your foundation: Maverick Ervin and Julie Heinz. I think sticking with the Foundation is the way to go on letting everyone know you made it back. Murray . . . he’s a bit eccentric. I don’t think you want him delivering this news. I would say we could just send the word out through an article from the Daily Planet, but I have a feeling we should go through a more . . . direct channel, at least for the initial announcement.”
“Alright. You know better than I do at the moment,” Kal-El said, a little amused by her gung-ho attitude.
She dialed Murray and waited. It immediately went to his voicemail, and, once again, she was told it was no longer accepting messages.
Defeated, she hung up.
“They all must be being swamped by well-wishers and reporters asking if they've heard from you,” Lois said with a sigh. She shook her head, thinking how their calls were essentially postponing them from learning Superman had returned. “How ironic.”
“Well, maybe we could try again after lunch?” Kal-El offered.
“Should I try Dr. Daitch? I need to call him anyway,” Lois said, not wanting to give up.
“If he can help, sure, but considering the sabotage you told me about. . . .” He trailed off.
“Hmm. You’re right. We can’t risk it,” Lois relented. “I’ll just get an update from him then, and ask him why the heck they’re sitting on their hands where the sabotage is concerned. The longer they wait, the more crazy theories are going to crop up, and I don't want anyone to begin trying to accuse you of anything, as nuts as that sounds.”
“Maybe they don’t want to tip their hand toward whoever is responsible?” Kal-El asked.
“May-be. But I think it has more to do with them being cowards,” Lois stewed.
“All-right.” Kal-El playfully raised his hands in mock-surrender, earning a laugh from Lois.
"Okay, so we'll try again after lunch, but what do you want to do if they're still busy?" she asked, growing somewhat serious again.
"I guess the only thing to really do then is . . . maybe go to the Foundation ourselves?" he asked, not all that enthused about that option but feeling he needed to let the world know he had made it back before too long.
“We could try calling Inspector Henderson if we still can’t reach the Foundation or Brown directly. Henderson works at the precinct, obviously, and I would trust him to help us,” she suggested after a moment of thought. “I’m sure he would be willing to escort us there or take a message himself.”
Kal-El nodded. “Okay, I like that plan better.”
“Well, I’ll be back in a moment. I left Daitch’s number in my purse,” she said. “And I am so going to let him know what I think about their unwillingness to point out the obvious!”
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