From last time:
"What is it?" she asked.
"Pardon?"
"I'm sorry, I should not have asked," she replied hastily.
"No, it's all right," he assured her.
"On the chain around your neck, there was something on the end of it."
He pulled the chain back out and held the little gold band between his thumb and forefinger. "We wear these on our fingers as a symbol of marriage."
"And that belongs to your wife...on Earth?"
He nodded.
“She is the world you left behind,” Talan said quietly. It was a statement, not a question.
He nodded again. “She is my entire world.”
“I do hope that you will be able to return to her,” she said.
Clark smiled slightly. “Thank you,” he replied.
New Stuff
********
Lois looked down at the tiny form squirming in her arms. She smiled as she nursed her son. It had been days since his birth and yet she had not yet come down from the feeling of absolute wonder and delight. She would sit up all night to watch him sleep, transfixed by the sight of his little chest rising and falling with each breath. He grabbed onto her hand, his little fist curled around one of her fingers.
She hoisted him up onto her shoulder and patted him gently on the back. He rewarded her with a tiny burp. “That’s my boy, Jon,” she said. Lois smiled and stretched out on her back, floating above the ground. It was more than just a relief to have her powers back. It turned out that nothing put Jonathan Clark Kent to sleep better than floating with mom.
From inside the bedroom, she could hear the front door open and Jonathan and Martha enter the apartment. “Hello?” Martha’s voice came from the living room. Her mother-in-law peeked into the bedroom. Lois, still floating, responded with a simple wave as she tried to ensure that her son stayed asleep. Martha smiled at them before retreating back to the living room.
After she was certain Jon was soundly asleep, she laid him down in his bassinet and quietly went to join her in laws. She found the Kents tidying up the kitchen. “Need any help?” she asked.
“Oh no, we’re fine,” Martha waved her off. “Is he asleep?” she asked with a smile that lit up her face.
“Yeah,” Lois replied. “Changed, fed, burped, and put down for a nap.”
“Enjoy the quiet while you can,” Jonathan said conspiratorially.
“No kidding,” Lois replied. “I don’t get how non-super powered women do it. How do they get up to feed a baby every two hours each night?”
“And let’s not forget that your figure just bounced right back to normal after you got your powers again,” Martha added.
Lois smiled. That was one of the best things about having the powers back. There was no way anyone could have guessed that just three days earlier, she’d been pregnant and as big as a house. Now, she looked much like she did nine months ago. It may not have been fair to all the women who had to spend months or more getting back down to pre-pregnancy weight all the while getting no sleep, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was thankful to do this the super powered way and she wasn’t about to apologize for that. “I think we’re about ready to head back to Kansas,” she mused. “As much as I love the city, Clark’s apartment isn’t big enough for all four of us and I’m sure you’re both anxious to get back to the farm.”
“There’s no rush,” Jonathan replied. “If you need more time here, that’s fine.”
“No, I think we’re okay,” she said. “I’m not really sure I want to take him flying yet though, especially in this weather. I can fly out to Kansas and bring the pickup back out here. The three of you can pile in and I’ll fly the truck back out to Smallville.”
Jonathan nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
”Great. After Perry and Jimmy visit tonight we’ll start getting packed up.”
********
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Sergeant Lok Sim began as he checked the files in front of him again. “I don’t seem to have the complete communications logs for that date.”
Enza frowned sternly, trying not to look every bit the junior officer that she was. Her few years’ of experience had been in legalistic settings, despite the fact that she was, technically, an officer of the Kryptonian forces. Giving orders had been somewhat outside the purview of her daily responsibilities. She preferred it that way. She’d been in battles and had had to fight, but she was still a lawyer, not a soldier. “How is that possible?” she demanded, a note of anger creeping into her voice.
“I’m not sure, ma’am,” the sergeant replied, cowed by an obvious failure, not on his part, but on his unit’s. “The logs are all here, but several minutes’ worth of communications were lost. They are listed here as unintelligible static, though we know that there were indeed communications between field commanders during that time.”
“And there is no way to retrieve the information?” she asked.
“I fear not, ma’am. The information was never recorded.”
Enza bit back a frustrated sigh. The records in question were vital evidence needed to exonerate Lieutenant Commander Ching. Those records could prove that he and his field commanders had not given any orders to attack Breksin.
“If I find any more information, shall I send it to the office of the inquest?” the sergeant asked, obviously trying to be helpful.
“No. Send it to me personally,” Enza replied. “Understood?”
“Aye, ma’am.”
********
“I really must advise against discharging you at this point,” her physician said with a concerned frown.
Zara merely smiled and gave him a knowing nod. “I appreciate your concern, doctor,” she replied. “But I would be more comfortable in my own home. While I will not take up my full schedule of duties, I feel it is important that I remain abreast of the critical issues we face at this time. I cannot do that if I remain cloistered in here.”
“Very well, ma’am,” the doctor replied, resigned to the fact that this was an argument he could not win.
“Thank you again, for everything. I owe you and your colleagues my life.” Her tone was quiet. The words hung heavily in the air.
“It was our great pleasure and honor to serve,” he responded with a solemn bow. “I wish you all the best in the difficult times ahead.”
“Thank you, and all the best to you as well. Please extend my best wishes to Tao Scion, too.”
“Of course ma’am.” He smiled slightly.
She adjusted the cumbersome mantle over her uniform and quietly exited the room, walking slowly to hide her limp. Her wounds from surgery were healing nicely, but still caused her pain when she moved. Even the smallest efforts left her fatigued, but though her body was unwilling, her mind was restless. She could not remain sequestered in peace and quiet while the world around her cried out for those things. She had been kept in the eye of a storm, a place of eerie calm and tranquility in the midst of chaos and confusion. Outside the door, she was immediately met by a member of her guard. If he took notice of the slow pace she set while walking the halls, he said nothing of it.
They approached the medical facilities’ docking bay and boarded a small vehicle to carry them the rest of the way to the First Ministers’ Residence. Under other circumstances, it would not have been a long or difficult walk, but Zara was determined not to drain all of her energy merely walking home. There was a time to convey strength publicly and there was a time to conserve that strength for what really mattered.
********
Clark met Zara at the entrance to the First Ministers’ Residence and waved off her escort. He greeted her with a slight smile and a softly spoken “welcome home.” Alone in the corridors of the compound, he extended his arm to her and she took it with a look of gratitude on her face. She leaned against him as they walked slowly to their chambers.
He felt a twinge of regret, knowing that Ching should have been there in his place. Clark knew that he made for a poor substitute for the other man, but with Ching still under investigation, there was little that could have been done about that. Ching remained confined within General Command as the inquest moved along at a tortuously slow pace.
The doors to their quarters opened and he led Zara into the room. “Thank you,” she said as she released his arm, stepping forward on her own gingerly.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, hoping to be of help, even if in only a small way.
Zara shook her head and smiled. “No, I will be fine,” she replied. “I think I will rest for a while, but afterward, if you wouldn’t mind briefing me on what I have missed, I would be grateful.”
Clark frowned. “Your doctors recommended that you continue resting, not working,” he replied gently.
“I know,” she said. “And I know my limitations, but I cannot remain idle and useless while so much unfolds around us.” He nodded in understanding.
********
Lois landed on the porch softly, her cape fluttering gently in the cold February air. She opened the front door and slipped inside, trying to avoid allowing the biting wind from swirling into the entryway. Ultrawoman had not been planning on resuming her patrols of the world’s skies immediately after Lois had returned to Kansas with the Kents and Jon, but an emergency call had been too much to ignore.
She spun back into her clothes, carrying the dirty suit to the laundry room. It may have been the dead of winter in Kansas with two feet of snow blanketing the ground and several more inches on the way, but in Chile it was summer and it was wet. She’d been able to divert a potentially disastrous mudslide as her first major rescue since her return. Her help had been gratefully received although she knew that questions were still swirling in the air over where she had been and what had drawn her away. She’d been somewhat cryptic in her explanations, but tried to assure her doubters that she was here to stay.
With a slight, satisfied smile, she cleaned the mud from her uniform and dried it with her heat vision, working quietly to avoid waking the residents of the Kent farmhouse. It felt really good to be helping again. Parenting was proving to be a full time job, and just a few months off in the future, she had drafts due to her publisher for the first chapter of her forthcoming book. Granted, it was mostly a compilation of her columns along with some new material, but it was proving to be more work than she’d anticipated. Most columnists used several years’ worth of material to create a book, she had to expand six month’s worth. The format of her writing had to be completely revised and she needed to do follow ups with the subjects of her columns. She found herself looking forward to that aspect in particular. It would be nice to know what was going on in the lives of the heroes whose stories she covered.
The sound of her son crying suddenly caught her attention. She quickly put away her uniform and quietly made her way upstairs to the nursery. Jon lay in his bassinet, whimpering softly, discomfited by a wet diaper and an empty stomach. Lois immediately redressed the first problem and then the second. Over the course of a week, she’d become an old hand at changing diapers and tending to the needs of a newborn. It was an odd, but wonderful feeling. It was almost as if she possessed those strange maternal instincts. She still had plenty of questions and was learning as she went, but more often than not, she found her gut could be trusted. That fact was likely due to Clark’s influence in her life; both as a strong, loving presence, and as an example as Superman. Being Ultrawoman was also a key factor. Her experiences, just dealing with all sorts of people every day, getting to see their hopes and dreams, as well as their fears and concerns, made her feel like she understood her fellow human beings just a little bit better.
She found herself smiling again as she settled into the rocking chair in the nursery, Jon nestled comfortably in her arms. She softly sang to him, lulling him gently back to sleep. His eyelids drooped over his big, brown eyes and finally closed. Lois watched him sleep in silence, letting long moments pass as she held him in her arms.
********
Enza stood in front of him, her shoulders drooping slightly, her eyes red rimmed. She had her hands clasped in front of her, her expression hardened to avoid betraying the sense of exhaustion and defeat he knew she must have been feeling.
Clark sat at the table in the conference room, his fingers drumming on the metal surface. He frowned, not in any way upset with Enza; he was well aware that she was doing more than everything humanly possible. “If the inquest were impartial, it would be trying much harder to find those missing communications,” he mused. “They need them as much as we do.”
“I agree, sir,” Enza replied. “Without them, the case against Lieutenant Commander Ching is based almost entirely on hearsay.”
“But I’m not sure they’re willing to let a little thing like lack of evidence keep them from destroying Ching,” he said bitterly. He frowned again, deep in thought, searching for another avenue left untested. “What about the uniforms? They must have been stolen.”
“The supply sergeant assigned to the expeditionary forces has been singularly unhelpful. I have made a few requests for unrelated pieces of information in order to determine whether he would be likely to cooperate. I wanted to determine whether or not he would be obliging before doing anything to arouse particular suspicion from the council. As it is, sir, I believe he does suspect me.”
“We’ll have to go at it a different way.” A slow smile spread across his face as an idea came to him.
“What is it, sir?” Enza asked, her brow arched.
“I think I know someone who can help us,” he replied enigmatically. “Go back to other leads, Lieutenant. I’ll take care of looking into the uniforms.”
********
“Yes, Mother,” Lois spoke into the phone, indulging an eye roll that her mother couldn’t see.
“And everything’s okay?” her mother asked for the billionth time.
“Yes, he’s fine. I’ll send pictures.”
“Good. I mean, it’s been almost two weeks now and I still haven’t seen my grandson,” Ellen complained.
Lois frowned and bit back a sigh. For someone who’d been less than enthused by the news of the pregnancy, her mother was now painfully impatient when it came to seeing her first grandchild. “I know, Mother. I’ll bring him out to visit when he’s a little older.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Ellen replied.
“I promise, I will bring him to visit you.” Lois sighed in exasperation. She strained with her super hearing, hoping that if not Jon, someone, somewhere needed her at that moment. She would have taken a treed cat gladly. Anything to get her off that phone would have been welcomed. Luck was on her side. She heard the sounds from the nursery that told her Jon was starting to wake from his nap. “I’ve got to go, Mother, Jon is up.”
Lois said her goodbyes and hung up the phone with an enthusiasm that almost made her feel guilty. She made her way to the nursery to find Jon in his bassinet, fidgeting restlessly under the blanket. “Mom owes you big time, little guy,” she said as she lifted him up. He cooed in apparent agreement.
As she finished nursing him, she settled him against her shoulder to burp him gently. She patted his tiny back, but stilled her hand. She was hearing something. It was a radio news report, probably from a distant passing car. They were asking for Ultrawoman.
“Martha!” she called out, walking out of the nursery, still holding Jon. He began to cry irritably as she rushed into the hall, scanning the house frantically for her mother-in-law. She spotted Martha in the downstairs den. “Shhh, it’s okay.” She tried to soothe her unhappy son. He continued to cry as she made her way to the den. She almost bumped into the older woman, who had probably heard both the crying and her daughter-in-law calling for her.
“What’s wrong?” Martha asked immediately.
“I have to go,” Lois replied, hearing the note of panic in her own voice. “They need Ultrawoman.”
Martha quickly took Jon from her without further comment. Lois just stood, frozen in place, staring. She hesitated, not wanting to leave Jon when he was crying. “Go,” Martha insisted quietly. She soothed the baby, his loud cries fading to whimpers. Lois finally unglued her feet from the ground and left, breezing out of the house, changing into the suit in mid flight.
********
The chiming of a pleasant, familiar tone informed Enza that there was someone at her door. She stood from her desk, where she’d spent countless hours reviewing evidence, and tidily arranged her work to protect it from prying eyes. She answered the door, surprised to see Sergeant Lok Sim, the communications sergeant she’d spoken with, standing on the other side.
The tall, square jawed soldier saluted her. “I am sorry to disturb you ma’am.”
“What is it, Sergeant? Did you find more information?”
Lok Sim frowned and glanced from side to side. “I fear the information is rather sensitive. Perhaps we should not discuss this out in the open.”
“My niece is asleep inside,” Enza lied. Paranoia may have been an ugly trait, but it was also a necessary one.
The sergeant’s eyes darted back and forth again. Despite his obvious discomfort, he continued. “The recordings you asked for. They were not improperly recorded. They were erased.”
“Are you certain?” Enza demanded.
“Positive, ma’am,” Lok Sim replied, his blue eyes unblinking.
“Have you told anyone about this?” She looked him up and down, trying desperately to judge him, to make an assessment of him, his honesty, his trustworthiness, on nothing more than a few minutes of guarded interaction.
Lok Sim hesitated, his lips pressed together in a thin, hard line. He shook his head ‘no.’
“Give me a moment to arrange for a secure conference room where we can talk freely,” she replied, turning back toward her door. The moment she had her back to him she felt a strong arm around her neck and she was forced against a wall. The blade of a knife pressed against her throat.
“How do I know I can trust you?” he hissed. She could feel his breath against her skin. Her heart raced in her chest, her mouth went suddenly dry. She put her hands on his arm, but he was much bigger and stronger than she. If she fought, he would have no trouble killing her.
“Sergeant, what are you doing?” she asked, amazed she could actually form the words.
“You were not assigned to the official inquest. You specifically asked me not to go to them. How do I know that you are not trying to destroy evidence? To conceal what happened at Breksin?”
“I want the same thing you do,” she managed, swallowing painfully. With each movement, she could feel the blade of the knife against her skin. “I want the truth. Someone is trying to bury it, you know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, holding a knife to an officer’s throat.”
“I don’t trust you,” he replied. She could hear the nervousness in his voice. Funny, he wasn’t the one a hair’s breadth from death.
“I don’t imagine you do,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you know something is very wrong. No one except you and your commanding officer should have access to the communications logs, yet they’ve been tampered with. Someone with a great deal of power is trying to ensure that Commander Ching is held responsible for what happened at Breksin. Someone is desperate to keep the truth from getting out.” She tried to lean back slightly to gain some literal breathing room from the knife’s edge, but he held her in a firm, vise-like grip.
“It could be you,” he countered. “You’re the First Ministers’ legal counsel, you’re perfectly placed to betray them.”
“Or I could be working to protect them and to protect this colony from the very saboteurs you seek.” She felt his hand tremble slightly and tried not to wince. Enza knew she could save her own skin by revealing the truth, but that was only assuming that Lok Sim was a man of good will who was merely mistaken, and not a spy for Nor, sent to flush her out into the open. “And I can be no more certain of your good intentions than you can be of mine. Think about it. Is it not odd that the inquest is completely uninterested in what could be the most important piece of evidence in this case? Is it not likely that they are the ones interested in concealing the truth?”
She felt the knife ease away from her skin and let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. Her knees felt weak and she marshaled all of her strength to keep standing. With shaking hands, Lok Sim resheathed his knife. He looked at her, an oddly meek expression settling on his face. “Why would they be doing this?”
“I do not know,” she replied honestly.
“But you believe the inquest is corrupt?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.
“I believe they are willing to sacrifice a good officer and his forces for some political gain,” she answered.
********
Trey walked through the corridors of the legal chambers at a rapid clip. He was an infrequent visitor to this part of the colony, but he knew its layout well enough to navigate it with ease. He passed jurists in the halls, largely ignoring them as they went about their work, and finally found himself at the door to the office of the lead jurist for the special inquest. He entered without waiting to be announced. Few people would think to stop the First Ministers’ Chief of Staff in order to attend to such petty details.
“Good afternoon, Trey,” Pelmon said as he looked up from his desk. Trey merely nodded, tight lipped, at the portly, middle aged fellow. A broad, practiced, smile spread across Pelmon’s expansive face, creating deep creases in his flabby jowls as he waved a chubby hand toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. Trey took the proffered seat across from the other man. Trey regarded him through narrowed eyes as Pelmon dabbed at the beads of perspiration on his balding head.
Pelmon’s face was always full of color, as though all the blood in his considerable body had collected under the skin of his face. His office was kept several degrees cooler than most places within the compound, yet the man perpetually looked as though he were being roasted alive. The rumors among those jurists more prone to frivolous talk was that the man had sweated off at least ten pounds over the course of the inquest due to a malfunction in the cooling systems in the hearing room. Under the bright lights of the room, crowded with people, Trey imagined, with an inward amusement, that Pelmon must have been suffering terribly. Trey speculated idly whether the conditions had rendered Pelmon even more short-tempered with his witnesses and staff. Pelmon was never known to have had a particularly pleasant disposition, especially to those over whom he had authority and Trey somehow doubted that physical discomfort was something he bore well.
In a society which honored stoicism and forbearance, Pelmon was an anomaly. He was particularly ill suited to deal with the hardships of life on New Krypton. But if he was weak and soft of physical constitution, the man possessed a razor sharp intellect and a harshness of character that served him well. Trey had followed the expected path - a dutiful son, student, and soldier. He had risen to each new post over the course of his long career based upon the promise he had shown and the performance of his duties. Pelmon, on the other hand, had experienced a rather meteoric rise to the top of the legal guild. More than a few years Trey’s junior, it was rumored that he’d been considered for the post of Chief Jurist and only denied the position because of the previous First Minister, Shir Om’s, deep distrust of him.
“You wished to speak with me?” Trey asked, hoping to cut through niceties and deal directly with the matter at hand, whatever that was.
“Yes, indeed. I have been approached through…certain channels, regarding an opportunity to aid our people.”
“What sort of opportunity?” Trey asked, his eyes narrowed.
Pelmon leaned forward almost conspiratorially. “The secession of the Belaar Valley is a foregone conclusion. The documents are being drawn up as we speak. The governors of the Belaar intend to claim that the High Council should not be able to object because of egregious misconduct and hostility toward the Belaar.”
“You mean the attack on Breksin?”
“Of course,” Pelmon replied matter-of-factly. “That incident will forever be a dark mark on our history. But the good news is that there is a deal that can be made. A swift conviction of the guilty complete with harsh sentences, to be carried out in the Belaar, and a promise to let the Belaar go in peace may bring an end to this war.”
Trey leaned forward in his seat. “Who is making this offer?”
“Those who have the power to make such an offer.” Pelmon leaned back, tenting his fingers in front of him.
“Rae Et?” Trey asked, though he already knew the answer. Pelmon did not reply. “They want Ching’s head, in exchange for peace?”
“It seems a small price, especially given the charges he faces.”
“He has not been found guilty,” Trey countered.
“He will be.” Pelmon’s voice oozed with confidence.
Trey frowned. “Lok Dei and Fet Ri represent the Belaar, not Rae Et, what authority does she claim in making this offer?”
“The secession movement is allied with Nor. The area over which he will exert power will be considerable. Rae Et is extending this offer because it is better for both of us that our lands co-exist in peace. A war with the newly augmented secessionist territories can be easily lost. Let us work toward this compromise as a last chance for peace.”
“This offer will have to be put before the Council and the First Ministers.”
“Trey, I thought you were more circumspect than that,” Pelmon chastised. “It is not yet time to put such an offer to them. With emotions running high after Zara’s near fatal accident, we must lay the ground work for this arrangement carefully.”
