From Last Time:
“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.”
New Stuff:
********
Clark looked at the two skinny young boys standing in front of him, their backs straight, their eyes unblinking as they stared straight ahead. Their jaws were sternly set, their faces freshly shaved though neither seemed to grow more than peach fuzz. “I need both of you to know that these aren’t orders. If you don’t want to do this, you certainly don’t have to. But Dek Ra, you asked me about a way to help, and I think I found a job that no one is better suited to than you two.”
“We want to help, Kal El,” Tem Ra replied.
“Good. There are some equipment and inventory records I want to get, but I don’t want to alert anyone to the fact that I’m looking for something.”
Dek Ra’s eyes narrowed. “You would not be creating some intrigue to make us believe that doing inventory is an important task would you? Sir?” He added the last part hastily.
“No,” said Clark with a mild shake of his head. “This isn’t some decoy mission. I need these files because I think someone has been stealing supplies for the rebels and I need to prove it.”
Dek Ra nodded in understanding. “So what is it that you want us to do, sir?”
********
Lois trudged into the farmhouse, bone weary. It wasn’t a physical exhaustion so much as a mental one. Even heavier rains in Chile had caused even larger mudslides. She’d remained there all day, doing everything she could to divert the mud flows, save homes, and most importantly, save people who were threatened by the slides. Disasters of this scale were always dangerous and required her total concentration. Now, however, she found it difficult to give that concentration. Her mind would frantically jump track and she’d begin thinking about Jon. About whether he was okay. And she’d fret, and worry, and get distracted.
That distraction could cost people their lives.
It was a sobering realization and one that didn’t come a moment too soon. While working, the distant rumble of more earth and clay giving way under torrents of water, an ominous portent of potential tragedy to come, had shaken her out of her ruminations. Realizing that she was allowing her focus to drift, she quickly shook the mental cobwebs and redoubled her efforts, pushing all thoughts not relevant to her mission out of her mind.
She had worked, surrounded by tragedy, by desperate people who had lost everything, and frantic parents searching for their children. No matter how fast she was, she couldn’t be everywhere at once. While helping some, she’d had to ignore the cries of others. People had died. She knew, somewhere, on some intellectual level, that the death toll would have been higher had she not been able to help, but it was a cold comfort. Eventually, she’d been approached by the official in charge of the local rescue efforts. He’d thanked her in that broken mess of jumbled English and Spanish in which they’d been communicating all day. International crews were on their way, so it was unlikely that they’d need her help for too much longer.
The promised crews arrived -- serious, grim faced and efficient men and women who made jumping from one tragedy to the next, helping where they were needed, their business. Under the banners of agencies like the Red Cross and MSF, they organized, created task forces, and delegated responsibilities. A tidy, stern looking woman with a walkie talkie in one hand and a dozen different credentials worn on the lanyard around her neck flagged her down. Her short, jet black hair was streaked with silver, her face bore the deep frown lines that spoke of years of experience. She’d introduced herself as Evelyn Rodriguez, a local disaster relief coordinator with the International Red Cross. With a no-nonsense tone, she’d asked for a briefing on the situation, which Lois had provided. Ms. Rodriguez had thanked Ultrawoman for her help and her time and promised to keep in touch if further assistance was necessary, sounding like a person ending a business meeting as opposed to a first encounter with a superhero. Lois had to assume that for someone like Ms. Rodriguez, these types of situations no longer carried with them a sense of the surreal.
And with that, she’d gone home to Kansas. All throughout the short flight, her mind jumped back and forth between thoughts of the rescue and her deep desire to get home and see her son. She wasn’t sure how late it was exactly when she arrived at the farm, but the household was quiet, everyone having gone to sleep. In silence, she floated up the stairs and to the nursery.
In the darkness, she watched her son sleep. Innocent, unaware, helpless. He needed her, just like those people today had needed her. Would she be able to take care of him, protect him, even though she hadn’t been able to take care of everyone, protect everyone who had needed her? She wished she could be sure.
Jon began to whimper and cry. She quickly picked him up. Apparently, it was feeding time. Lois sat down in the rocking chair with her son in her arms and nursed him. She looked up at the sound of footsteps in the hall. The door opened a sliver and light spilled in from the hallway. Martha stood in the doorway.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” her mother-in-law whispered softly. “I heard Jon cry and didn’t know you were home.”
“I just got in a little while ago,” Lois replied. “I’m sorry for just running out and leaving you with him. I bet he hasn’t let you guys get any sleep at all tonight.”
“It’s no trouble,” Martha said. “We’re happy to help, and we know how important what you do is. Don’t worry about it, that’s what we’re here for.”
Lois smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”
“We saw the mudslides on TV. How bad was it?”
“Pretty bad. We did everything we could, and the rescue teams were great, but you know, people still get hurt. There are people we still can’t help.”
Martha merely nodded. “Well, unless you need anything, I’m going to go back to bed.”
Lois looked down at Jon and smiled. “I think we’re fine. Thank you for taking such good care of him.”
“Any time,” Martha replied. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
********
Ensign Parth walked down the corridors of General Command with his unenthusiastic charge in tow. He approached the desk of the supply sergeant who made a great show of looking up to see who had the audacity to disturb him at his desk. The supply sergeant, a weathered looking man whose graying hair made him look older than his thirty some odd years, looked lazily up at Ensign Parth.
Parth glowered at the sergeant. “Do soldiers not salute officers in this division?” he bit out the words, sharpened with disapproval.
The supply sergeant stood up and saluted. “What can I do for you, sir?” he asked without trace of sincerity.
Parth gestured toward Dek Ra. “This young cadet is to assist you with your duties today. I want him to understand the system for maintaining inventory stores.” The supply sergeant turned toward Dek Ra and looked him up and down. He smirked, obviously finding some perverse pleasure in his new responsibility over a cadet.
His watery blue eyes settled in a fixed stare on the young cadet. “We’ll find good work for him to do around here, sir.”
********
Several hours after his twin brother had ventured in to the inventory offices, Tem Ra approached the supply sergeant, dozing at his desk.
“Sergeant?” Tem Ra said meekly, trying to wake the older man without incurring his wrath. The sergeant nearly fell from his chair as he rushed to sit up.
“What? What is it?” he asked in near panic until he noticed the young cadet in front of him. He frowned dourly. “What are you doing here? I thought I sent you back there to file the supply request forms.”
Tem Ra swallowed nervously. His eyes went wide as he saw his brother poking his head out from the doorway to the supply office, behind the sergeant. Dek Ra, ten minutes older than Tem Ra and always the more daring of the two, waved his younger brother off, signaling him to hurry and distract the supply sergeant. With shaking hands he hoped would be interpreted as a fear of authority, Tem Ra handed the sergeant a letter, bearing the official mark of the expeditionary forces, stating that the supply office had sent the wrong supplies to a unit in the field and demanding the sergeant’s immediate attention.
The sergeant read the note, his expression growing constantly darker. He crumpled the note slightly at the edges, where his large hands gripped it tightly. “Imbeciles,” he muttered. “Come on,” he snarled at Tem Ra. “We need to go to the docking bay and get this sorted out at once.”
“Aye, sir,” Tem Ra replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his older brother grin and wink at him as he slipped out of the supply office to the records room. The sergeant stormed out, with Tem Ra timidly following.
********
“Sir! I have them!” Dek Ra exclaimed with a broad grin as soon as Clark opened the door to his quarters. Clark pulled the young man in quickly, hoping his enthusiasm hadn’t drawn the attention of any interested soul passing through the corridors. Barely able to contain his excitement, Dek Ra held up the disk triumphantly and handed it to Clark.
“Thank you, Dek Ra. And good work,” Clark said, clapping the young man on the shoulder. “Let’s see what you and your brother found.” He accessed the terminal in his quarters and inserted the disk, quickly bringing up list after list of the official inventories of supplies for the expeditionary forces.
“What are you looking for, sir?” Dek Ra asked as he stood behind Clark, frowning as he looked at the display screen.
“Discrepancies,” Clark replied. “I have all the orders of supplies from the expeditionary forces and the inventories here. I’m looking to see if anything is missing, like uniforms.”
“Uniforms that could have been used by rebels pretending to be Ching’s men?”
“Exactly,” Clark said. He frowned as he double checked the data on the inventory list and on the disk. “There it is,” he murmured.
*******
“Clearly, the High Council cannot protect you,” Rae Et explained, her hands clasped behind her back. Fet Ri and Lok Dei walked beside her, their pale complexions, bloodshot eyes and perpetual frowns testaments to their uneasiness. Rae Et walked more slowly these days than she did as a younger woman, but she still carried herself with a distant grace. Draped in her greatcoat, her frail, thin frame was hidden and she maintained the aura of power and steeled resolve. “You were correct in your judgment that secession is your best hope. Independence, however, is still dangerous. I can provide you with the protection and security your people need and expect from you.”
“What you want is an alliance that will put under your control territory that is not mere wasteland,” Fet Ri replied.
“It is true that my followers and I are forced to carve out our existence in an even more inhospitable clime than most in this world,” she conceded. “But what I am proposing is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“This is not a matter on which we can provide any guarantees,” Lok Dei interjected, his frown accenting the deeply carved worry lines on his face. “The governors will have to confer amongst themselves and with the populace.”
“But your support for the arrangement will carry much weight,” Rae Et replied.
Fet Ri turned toward her. A muscle twitched nervously along his grimly set jaw. “Our people have suffered immensely in this world and our troubles have recently multiplied. All that we want, all that we are committed to, is ensuring the best for those we serve.”
“I assure you that our concerns are the same,” Rae Et said smoothly. “We want what all people everywhere want, to protect our families and ensure the best for our children.”
“Some of us seem to have grander plans for our children than others.” Lok Dei gave her a dour look.
Rae Et smiled with practiced grace and almost convincing benevolence. “I am growing too old and tired to lead. A younger generation, more vigorous, forged in the fires of this world will have to take up the mantle. My son is a good and noble man who wants the best for New Krypton and has, since birth, been raised with the solemn knowledge that he had a vital role to play in securing the future of our people.”
Fet Ri was unmoved. “The matter must go before the people of the Belaar, Rae Et. That is all we can promise.”
“I thank you both for your time,” she replied with a deep bow that bent her thin frame.
********
Lois sat at the kitchen table, a coffee mug between her hands. A gust of cold wind signaled the opening of the door. Jonathan entered, stomping the snow off his boots. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully, his complexion full of color from the frigid outdoor air.
“Morning,” Lois replied, unable to mask her glum disposition.
“What’s wrong?” he asked instantly.
“I just…I rushed into things. I wasn’t ready to start being Ultrawoman yet.”
Jonathan sat down beside her. “But you heard a call for help. They needed you and you went. It’s the kind of person you are.”
“And I don’t regret it, I just, I’m worried…about whether I’m around enough for Jon, about whether I’m a good mother, about whether I can handle all of this.”
He placed a large hand on her much smaller one. It was still cold. “You’re doing a fantastic job. Better than anyone could expect. And you have help. Don’t ever forget that. Martha and I will do everything we can to help you. But you’re right, you have to prioritize.”
“I’m not sure how to do that,” she said, shaking her head.
“You’ll learn.”
“How are you holding up?” she asked quietly.
Jonathan chewed his lip and nodded slowly. “As best as can be expected. Today’s tougher than most days.”
Lois felt tears prick her eyes. “I know. How’s Martha?”
“Not feeling too well.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “It’ll be okay,” he said.
“Yeah,” she replied, without conviction. She got up and washed out her coffee mug. “I’m going to go check on Jon.” She headed up the stairs, detouring to her own room before she made her way to the nursery. Lois found herself drifting toward the picture frame sitting on the dresser. It felt so solid, so real in her hand. She touched the cool glass surface over the picture. It was a favorite of hers; a picture of the two of them together, both smiling, his arm slung casually around her shoulder as though that was the only natural placed for it to be. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she murmured.
********
He tapped on the face of his watch, listening to it tick quietly. It was late at night on New Krypton, but apparently not back in Metropolis. It was about two in the afternoon, February 28th, 1997. He was thirty one years old today. And he’d been away from home for almost ten months. Clark stretched out on the firm mattress of his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The last few weeks had been among the most trying in his life. Suddenly, with the evidence that he and Enza had just found, however, he was starting to let himself be just a little bit hopeful. The possibility of clearing Ching’s name had finally begun to materialize. It was no sure thing, but he had cause to hope.
The chiming of the communications system informed him that there was someone at his door. Given the late hour, it must have been rather important. He stood up and made his way to the main door to the quarters. He opened it to find Shai standing on the other side.
“I bear bad news, sir,” the elder statesman said with a humble bow.
“What is it?” Clark asked. Shai held out the envelope in his hands. Clark took it, quickly ripping it open and scanning the contents.
The Belaar had officially seceded.
“The Council will be gathered first thing in the morning, sir,” Shai said. Clark nodded grimly.
As the old councilor retreated back into the hallways, Clark read the formal statement again. “Happy birthday, Kent,” he whispered to himself.
********
The snow crunched under his boots as he trudged through the ankle deep blanket spread over the ground. He followed a set of much smaller footprints, often obliterating the existing tracks under his own footfalls. He inhaled deeply, the cold air stinging his lungs, the muscles in his chest tightening in response. Exhaling, his breath froze in front of him in little puffs. A light dusting of flakes fell, coating him with the white powder. The cold bit the exposed skin of his face. The trail of footprints led him to the pond behind the shed, frozen long ago, and silent in winter’s embrace. Beside it stood a small, lone figure, silhouetted by a setting sun.
He approached unnoticed; despite the loud sound of his boots compacting the powdered snow underfoot, she didn’t seem to hear him. She looked so lonely, but he knew that she felt even worse. After all of these years, he knew her better than he knew himself. “You know, you’ll freeze out here,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She leaned back against him, and he felt her body shiver. His wife said nothing.
“Are you okay?” he asked at long last, breaking the silence. He hugged her more tightly, hoping to protect her from the outside cold, not sure if there was anything he could do for the cold within.
“We just picked a day at random. Tried to guess based on how old he was when we found him. When he was a little boy, I was always so terrified that one day there would be a knock at our door. That someone would come to take him away from us. As he got older, and stronger, I stopped worrying. I thought nothing could take my boy away from me, but he’s gone just the same.”
“He’ll come home,” Jonathan replied resolutely.
“We can’t know that,” Martha confessed, letting the doubt show at last. She always clung with fierce tenacity to her optimism. He knew that it was her refusal to acknowledge any doubt that kept her going from one day to the next. Clark would come home, just as certain as the sun would rise. Perhaps no one would be setting any clocks by Clark’s return, but he would come home, just as soon as he could.
He drew in a deep breath of sharp, cold air. “Clark is unlike anybody else, in this world or any other. He is so strong and has such a good heart. If there’s any way he can come back, he will. We’ve already watched him do so much amazing good in this world, we just need to have a little faith in the boy we raised.”
********
He looked up as the door to Zara’s chambers opened. She stepped slowly through the doorway, wearing a thin dressing gown. “How are you?” he asked immediately. Her grim expression made clear that she’d already heard the news.
“I will be fine,” she replied. “When does the council plan to meet?”
“In about an hour.”
“I plan to be there,” she said resolutely.
Clark frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“We need to demonstrate that we are still firmly in control.” He saw her lean heavily against the doorway in contrast to her firm statement. He stood up, walking hesitantly toward her. He saw her close her eyes, one hand going to her abdomen.
“Zara?” he asked. Thoughts of concern raced through his mind. He began to wonder immediately if he should call a doctor.
“Could you help me?” she asked softly. He was almost taken aback by the request for assistance, something entirely out of character for her.
“Of course,” he replied. He took her arm as she walked back into her room, one hand still at her side.
She sat down gingerly on the bed, her face drawn. “The bandages need to be changed,” she managed. A quick glance around the room revealed the fresh bandages, which he removed from their shelf. Zara had begun to remove her dressing gown. She sat in her undergarments, her expression emotionless. Clark felt another pang of guilt, knowing that this again, was something Ching, not he, should have been doing.
He focused on the healing wound, the surgical scar much larger than he expected it would be. He’d assumed that Zara had downplayed the seriousness of her injuries and now had the proof, but said nothing. The supplies at hand were different from what he was used to, but he’d learned a little about first aid over the years of helping at disasters and cleaning and dressing the wound was a simple task. Zara remained completely silent and impassive, though he knew that the process had to cause a considerable amount of pain. In a few, quick minutes, he was finished. As she replaced her gown, she looked up at him and quietly said, “thank you.”
Clark replied with a nod and a tight lipped smile. He quietly retreated from her room to give her privacy to get ready.
********
“And what, exactly, is it that this council intends to do?” one of the councilors demanded.
“We must not allow the secession, it is an act of war!” another answered angrily.
Shai pounded the gavel heavily against the podium, his voice boomed with authority. “Silence!”
The councilors seemed cowed by Shai’s command. Clark seized the moment of silence. “We cannot rush into an action that will cost innocent people their lives,” he said sternly.
Zara placed her hand on his and looked over at her co-First Minister. “Kal El and I are in agreement. We do not condone a race into action. We must first determine the intentions of the Belaar.”
Alon stood up and bowed respectfully. “My esteemed First Ministers, what do you suggest?”
Clark spoke up again. “We’re asking the council to seal the borders, increase patrols, and continue attempting to negotiate with the Belaar.”
“Very well, sir,” Alon replied.
Gai Jin, another councilor stood up, grim faced. “What about Breksin? Why are we not discussing the fact that the Belaar was completely justified in seceding?”
A murmur rose up among the council. The murmur grew to a dull roar as councilors began arguing. “There will be order!” Shai demanded.
“What of it, sir?” Gai Jin argued. “What is the status of the investigation?”
“The legal investigation is proceeding according to schedule,” Zara replied. Clark could see the strain in her expression but knew that no one else would notice it. The lines of pain and worry were too subtle, too well hidden.
Gai Jin remained unsatisfied. “Why haven’t the First Ministers denounced Commander Ching and the heinous actions of his troops? If you cannot bring order to your own house and purge it of evil influences, how can you lead us?”
Trey stepped forward, clearing his throat slightly. “Based upon the outcome of the inquest…” he began.
Clark stood up and held out a hand to silence Trey. “It is all right,” he started. He tried to temper the anger rising in him. “Commander Ching has served the First Ministers and the people of New Krypton faithfully for his entire career. He is entitled to a fair trial and I will not condemn him as guilty while the facts remain unknown.”
“How can you stand by, sir, and defend a murderer?” Gai Jin seethed.
Trey spoke up once more. “Esteemed councilor, this is neither the time nor the place to try Lieutenant Commander Ching, but rest assured, justice will be done.”
********
Clark walked briskly down the hallways, his unwanted entourage in tow. He’d been in meetings and conference sessions all morning and there was no end in sight. As he rounded a corner, Enza intercepted him. “Can I have a moment, sir?”
For anyone else, the answer would have been no. Clark didn’t have a moment to breathe and he couldn’t exactly conjure up more time for anyone else. “Of course, Lieutenant,” he replied immediately. He turned to Trey and his collection of guards and advisors. “Leave us,” he said simply.
Trey nodded vigorously as he and the pack fell behind. Clark followed Enza into a conference room and locked the door behind them. “What have you found?” he asked.
“The recordings that should have existed of Commander Ching’s communications were intentionally erased,” she said, her expression stern.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
He saw her rub at her neck. “I am certain, sir,” she replied. “I can produce the tapes.”
Clark chewed his lip, frowning. “The inventory lists for the expeditionary forces don’t match the orders. Weapons, communication systems, and uniforms are all missing.” He stressed the last part.
“Which supports the theory that the attackers were masquerading as expeditionary forces,” she replied. “What about the sabotage of the First Minister’s ship?”
“We couldn’t acquire the wreckage to analyze it,” Clark explained. “But I have a list of every person who had access to the ship before it launched. I want you to interview every one of them.”
“Of course, sir. And the secession of the Belaar, how does this affect our work?”
“It changes nothing,” Clark said. He walked toward the door. “Continue your good work, Lieutenant.”
“Of course, sir,” she replied with a bow before leaving in the direction of her office.
Clark caught up to Trey in the hallway. “We are behind schedule, sir,” Trey said with a frown.
“I know,” Clark replied.
“I was hoping to get a few minutes of your time, today, sir,” Trey continued.
“What is it, Trey?” Clark asked.
“Regarding, Ching, sir,” Trey began. “Perhaps it would be best for you to distance yourself from him.”
“Commander Ching has served with nothing but complete loyalty and honor. I will not betray him.”
“Sir, he has been accused of the most heinous crimes…”
“And I do not believe the charges. I know Commander Ching. I believe him when he says that he had nothing to do with the attack and I will do everything I can to ensure that he has a fair trial.”
“Sir, I understand your concern, but…”
“The subject is not open for discussion!” Clark snapped. He continued walking down the hall, noticing it took Trey a moment to recover and catch up. “We cannot get sidetracked. We have a lot to do.”
