PART ELEVEN
“Huh?” The taxi-driver’s face screwed up in bafflement.
Clark yanked open the passenger door and jumped inside. “Just drive up to the lights,” he said.
“O-kay,” replied the driver, pulling away from the kerb. “Then what? Where do you want to go?”
“Wherever that blue Chevy is going,” said Clark, leaning forward to keep his eyes peeled on Lana’s car and speak to the driver through the taxi’s glass partition.
“Bud, I hope you got the dough for this,” drawled the driver from the side of his mouth. “Following cars is treble time.”
Clark rolled his eyes, sure that the rate was a complete fiction invented on the spur of the moment. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ve got the money.” He pulled out his wallet and waved some bills where the driver could see them in his rear-view mirror. “Okay?”
“You’ll need more than that.”
While they’d been talking, the taxi had drawn up behind Lana’s car. Clark sat back and hunkered down on the seat lest Lana should see him. “I’ve got more,” he told the driver. “Just follow the car, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” The lights changed and both cars swung out into the main road. “You’re not a perv, are you? I don’t hold with that filth.”
“All I need is to know where she’s going,” replied Clark, pulling out his cell-phone and dialling Lois’s number.
“She?” said the driver. “Ex-lover? Ex-wife?”
“Neither,” said Clark. “Look, can we cut the twenty questions and just concentrate on not losing her?”
“Clark? Is that you?” said Lois from his cell-phone.
“Sorry – yeah, it’s me. No time to explain – just jump in your car and find me. I’m in a taxi, licence plate...” He found the notice in the front cab and read off the number. “We’re going east on Durban Street, towards central Metropolis. Just passed...Africa Avenue. I’m following a mutual acquaintance to her art class.”
“Wow, that was quick.”
“I know. I think perhaps she just called a certain group and they...summoned her.”
“Interesting. Why are you being so cagey with names? Do you have company?”
He glanced at the taxi driver who, if he’d had ears like an African elephant, would have been flapping them wide open as he drove. “In a sense,” he told Lois. “Are you in your car yet?”
“Just getting there.”
“Okay. Stay on the line and I’ll guide you in.”
“Sure. Hey, this is fun!”
“Yeah.”
Ten minutes later, Lois had joined the chase and the three cars were driving in convoy through the streets of Metropolis.
********************
Play-acting the part of Lois’s husband was a bitter-sweet experience, Clark had decided. In one sense, he was living the life he’d dreamed of ever since Lois had walked into his world. At work, he was Lois’s partner and husband, free to show affection towards her without fear of wagging tongues and tell-tales. No need to sneak into the photocopier room or Jimmy’s dark room for a snatched kiss and a cuddle. And colleagues addressed him as her husband, making his heart swell with pride and wrapping him in a warm glow of happy contentment. This Clark even seemed to enjoy greater respect and warmer relations with his work colleagues than he did himself. Away from work, there was no Lana waiting for him at home with her sneaking ways and lethal lump of kryptonite. There was no suspicion and there were no sickly, false terms of endearment. There was just him and Lois doing normal husband and wife stuff together – like riding home together after work in her car, as they were right now.
However, in another sense, the experience was pure torture. This Lois wasn’t his Lois, so any display of affection he gave was false. And as soon as they were alone, as now, all trace of affection melted away and they were back to the uneasy truce they’d declared that morning in the kitchen.
He wished he could meet her husband. They’d have so much in common and he felt sure there’d be a lot he could learn from him. The guy must have a wealth of experience at being Superman, for example – and if he was going to give it a try himself, he could really do with a teacher to get him started on the basics.
Like flying. How did the other Clark do it? Did he just think “up” and things happened automatically, or did he have to flick some kind of switch in his head to get started?
“Penny for them.”
Her voice startled him. “Huh?”
“You look deep in thought,” she said, pulling up at some traffic lights.
“Oh. I was wondering how the flying works, actually,” he admitted. “After my pathetic attempt yesterday, I wonder if I just don’t have the same abilities as your husband.”
“I’m sure you do.” She shrugged. “All you need is a little practice.”
“How can I practice when I can’t even get off the ground?”
The lights changed and she set off again. “That’s easy. I can help you with that part.”
“Like you did last time?” he asked pointedly, recalling her frantic coaching efforts and his total lack of success.
“Those weren’t exactly ideal circumstances.” She turned into Hyperion Avenue. “You need to be relaxed when you’re learning a new skill. Do you float in your sleep?”
“Yeah, I used to.” Until Lana trained him out of it.
“There you go. Clark does, too. Flying is only the next step along from that. You’ll see – it’s as easy as falling off a log.”
His experience so far hadn’t made it seem very easy. He frowned as the car sailed past Lois and Clark’s house and continued down the street. “Where are we going?”
She grinned. “You’ll see.”
Fifteen minutes later, he was peering gingerly down his nose to a deserted factory floor some twenty feet below him. “I’m not feeling very relaxed yet,” he observed.
He was standing – well, balancing, really - on a narrow ledge in front of an aperture which must have been used to send goods from one end of the factory to the other, passing them along some kind of pulley system just below the ceiling. All of the machinery had now gone, leaving a vast chasm of empty space between him and the floor.
“Don’t worry,” said Lois. “Just remember you’re invulnerable.”
It was okay for her – she was standing on a nice solid wooden floor behind the aperture. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Clearly, she believed it was 50-50 that he’d just plummet straight down to the floor.
“I’ll give you a count. On three, okay?”
He nodded. Would it be better if he closed his eyes? Held his nose and pretended he was jumping into a pool of water?
“One, two-“
“Wait!”
“What?” she asked.
“Should I jump feet first or kind of dive with my arms held out like a bird?”
She seemed to take far longer than necessary to answer, considering he was perched precariously on a narrow ledge teetering over an abyss, but eventually, she said, “Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.”
“Okay.” Feet first, then. Or would he be more likely to feel like he was flying if he dove?
“Have you decided which it’s going to be?”
“Jump, I think,” he said. “I’d rather land on my feet than on my head.”
“Good call. Okay, here we go. One, two-“
Something heavy drove into his back and sent him tumbling into the void.
Falling. Tumbling downwards in a clumsy, upside-down confusion of flailing of arms and legs. A brick wall sliding past him in a terracotta blur, the grey of the factory floor rushing up towards him – he had to stop. Mustn’t hit the concrete. Bad for the health. Stop...now.
Everything froze. The terracotta blur became individual bricks. The floor stopped moving. Legs and arms ceased their frantic motions. Only the motes of dust in the air moved, floating lazily past his field of vision.
Without daring to move a muscle, he cast his gaze downwards. Yes, there was the concrete floor, lying just a few inches below his left foot. Wow.
Up, he thought. Up would be good.
The floor receded slowly until there was a good ten feet between his foot and the grey concrete. Yikes. He did the up thing again and was soon parallel with Lois’s aperture.
“Hello,” he said.
She was grinning broadly and her eyes were sparkling. “You did it!” She gave him a round of applause. “Well done!”
“You pushed me!”
“So?” She shrugged. “You’re flying, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Gingerly, he glanced down and gulped.
Oh, boy. He quickly switched his gaze upwards again but he was too late. Panic sent him falling again, rapidly losing altitude and rushing towards the grey concrete again. Stop, he thought. Forget the fact you’re about to turn into a squashed fly and think stop...
Okay.
Frozen in mid-air again and feeling decidedly queasy, he paused for a breather before pulling himself up once more to Lois’s height. Was it possible to be afraid of heights and be able to fly, both at the same time? He was pretty certain it was.
She must have seen the discomfort in his face, for she said, “You just need a bit of confidence in yourself, that’s all. Once you know you’re in control, the height won’t bother you.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’m going to drop down a bit nearer to the floor and get practising.”
She grinned. “Go for it.”
***************
At the street corner Lana had just turned down a few seconds previously, Clark pressed up behind Lois and peered down the street. They’d been following Lana on foot for only a short distance from where she’d parked her car, in a run-down neighbourhood adjacent to the Hobs Bay area. Now, though, it looked like she might be nearing her destination.
“If she’s attending an art class in there,” muttered Lois, “then I’m the King of Siam.”
Clark eyed the building Lana had just entered. “I don’t know. Looks like a school to me.”
“Which was closed down two years ago,” said Lois. “Come on.” She darted down the street, forcing Clark to follow her.
Together, they jogged up the steps to the old school and pressed their faces up against the glass. A door was swinging shut at the right side of the entrance hall.
“My turn,” murmured Clark, pulling open one of the front doors which, judging by the open padlock hanging from the handle, was where Lana had gained access.
A few minutes later, they were crouching in a darkened corridor just outside a classroom, Lois pressing up behind him as they listened to a conversation between Lana and a man.
The blood drained from Clark’s face when he heard the man speaking. He’d have known that voice anywhere. You didn’t soon forget the man who’d tied your parents up, tried to burn them alive and nearly shot you dead.
Jason Trask.
He felt a hand on his arm and turned to find Lois eyeing him with concern. “You okay?” she mouthed.
He nodded. “Jason Trask,” he mouthed back, jabbing a pointing finger at the classroom.
Her eyes widened and then she was darting forwards, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders so that she could peek into the room. Thank goodness, he reflected, that neither Trask nor Lana were facing the door!
He pulled her back, fearful that one of them would turn and see her. She glared indignantly at him, but he merely placed his finger on his lips and turned away from her to listen in on the conversation. No doubt, if she was anything like his Lois, he’d get an earful from her later on, but if they were seen now, they’d blow their best chance of learning what Lana’s relationship with Trask was.
“But he saved all those people,” Lana was saying. “How can that be bad?”
“It,” snapped Trask. “It saved those people, not ‘he’.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Don’t you see? It’s lulling you into a false sense of security. It wants you to think it’s benign.”
“He is benign,” she insisted quietly. “He’s never hurt me or anyone else.”
“Oh, really? You don’t care that it’s being unfaithful? You don’t care that it’s a lying, cheating bastard? Hell, Lana, it would probably sleep with half the women in this city, given half the chance.”
“Clark’s not like that,” she said. “He...it’s not promiscuous.”
“It’s already fornicating with the Lane woman on a regular basis,” spat Trask. “What’s that if it’s not promiscuous?”
“You don’t know that for sure. I...I know they spend a lot of time together, but you don’t know he’s sleeping with her.”
“Oh, get real, Lana! Besides, we have it under 24-hour surveillance,” he retorted. “Of course we know.”
“Twenty...twenty-four hour?” she faltered. “I...I didn’t know that.”
“You didn’t?” he replied. “Sorry, perhaps we forgot to tell you.”
“All day?” she said. “And...all night?”
“Yeah, phone taps, video cameras, hidden microphones...the usual stuff.”
There was a pause, and then Lana said in a very subdued voice, “Video. You have videos.”
“Of him and her? Of course. Hell, Lana, they did it right there in your bed. I tell you, it has no shame. It disgusts me.”
“Y...you...disgust me.”
Clark could hardly believe what he’d just heard. Twenty-four hour surveillance? How far did Skywatch’s reach extend - did they have devices at the Planet? Was this Clark Kent’s entire life recorded on tape?
A wave of cold fear made him shiver. Watched. Every single move recorded. Faceless people who knew everything there was to know about him. A short step from there to the dissecting table. Gleaming, sharp instruments and impassive eyes staring down over surgical masks.
He clenched his fist and pushed the childhood terrors back down where they belonged. This was the other Clark’s nightmare, he reminded himself fiercely.
But what of his own near-faint in the bedroom – had that been recorded, too? What about his conversation with Lois – did Trask now know that some kind of body-swap was occurring between him and the other Clark?
Meanwhile, Lois had gone very still behind him. Glancing back at her through the gloom, he saw shocked, pinched features. Of course – she was on that tape, too! God, he couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to discover people had been watching you make love. Violated, he guessed. Humiliated?
Trask was talking again.
“Oh, really? I disgust you?” He snorted. “What about you, Lana? Do you disgust yourself? All those notes you make about it – the nasty little secrets you share with us? Do those disgust you?” Trask’s voice was harsh. “For God’s sake, Lana, this is war, and war requires extreme measures. You knew that when you signed up for this work.”
“You...you’ve been videoing me...with Clark...”
“What did you expect? This is a close surveillance operation. Besides, we needed to know that you weren’t shirking your marital obligations.”
“My marital...” She gasped. “I can’t take this... I can’t... I have to go...”
Clark heard a chair scrape on the tiled floor.
“I don’t have time for this,” snapped Trask. “Sit down, cut the hysteria and listen while I tell you how you’re going to deal with it from now on.”
“I don’t care...”
Clark heard quick footsteps approaching the doorway and hurriedly turned, grabbed Lois and pulled her unceremoniously into a classroom on the other side of the corridor. A moment later, Lana fled down the corridor, heading for the exit.
He was torn between following her and waiting to hear what Trask would do next. In his arms he held a still-shocked Lois who, while he didn’t doubt her powers of recovery, was probably not best placed for a fast pursuit across Metropolis just yet. And if they did move, they risked colliding with Trask on his way out.
A radio squawked in the other classroom. “Trask.”
“Sir, we think the alien has vacated the house.”
Trask swore. “You think. You don’t know, I suppose, because of those damned cameras! How the hell am I supposed to run an efficient operation with faulty equipment? This was a priority one project – can you believe that? But I’ve done such a good job of neutralising the danger for them that they think they can cut the funding. Fools!”
“Sir, I don’t-“
“Just find out where it is. Try the Lane woman’s apartment first.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Oh, and Barker? Agent Lang has been reclassified as unsafe. I repeat, unsafe.”
“Acknowledged. Should we terminate?”
“Not yet. Just watch her.”
“Acknowledged.”
*************
Lois stood in the middle of their living room, eyeing the door to the kitchen with a mixture of amusement and impatience.
“Come on, Clark!” she called. “You’re supposed to be faster than a speeding bullet. Even my mother doesn’t take this long to get changed.”
“It’s very tight,” said a muffled voice. “Are you sure this is all he wears?”
She grinned. “He says it cuts down on wind resistance.”
“It’s not resistant enough, if you ask me.”
“Just get out here and show me,” she said. “Or I’ll come in there and get you. In five, four, three-“
“Okay!”
And there he was. Resplendent in blue, red, and yellow.
Except he wasn’t really that resplendent. Sure, he was wearing the right clothes, but all his weight was on one foot, his shoulders were hunched, and he was holding his cape across himself like a comfort blanket. He’d even forgotten to remove his glasses.
“Hair’s good,” she said, finding the one thing he’d managed to get right. “But the rest of you...”
She strode up to him, pushed back his shoulders, yanked the cape from his hands and pulled off his glasses. “Cross your arms and stand with your feet apart,” she instructed, then stepped back to survey the result.
Yep, that was better. Now he looked like Superman.
“There you go!” she exclaimed. “How does it feel?”
“Exposed,” he muttered stiffly. “Don’t people stare?”
She chuckled. “Oh, yeah. But at least they’re not staring at your face.”
A pink flush spread over his face, immediately destroying the stern hero image he’d managed to create. “God knows what Lois will think of it.”
“Trust me - she’ll love it. Look, why don’t you go upstairs and take a look at yourself in our mirror?” she suggested. “Then you’ll see what I mean.”
He nodded. “Okay.” He began to stride over to the stairs, his cape billowing behind him. But then he paused. “Why walk when you can fly?” he said, a sly grin spreading over his features. His feet lifted off the carpet. “I could get used to this.”
She smiled with him and watched him glide stylishly upstairs. He was a different person since he’d discovered flying. At first he’d been like a little boy with a new toy, showing off whenever he could, but mostly he was just so much more confident and relaxed. He’d even been the one to suggest trying on one of Clark’s suits. She’d have mentioned it if he hadn’t, of course – her plan for tomorrow’s meeting with Dr Schulz wouldn’t work otherwise – but she was pleased he’d taken the initiative from her. Perhaps there was hope for this fledging Superman after all.
****************
As soon as Trask left, Lois erupted from Clark’s loose embrace and stalked across the darkened classroom, her shoulders stiff and hunched. He watched her uneasily, unsure of what he could possibly say to her by way of comfort. How did you talk to someone who’d discovered their privacy had been violated in the worst way imaginable?
All those passionate, tender, and so very private moments he’d shared with his own Lois. Learning each other’s bodies - learning how to love and be loved. What if he found out all of that had been taped? He’d be as furious and upset as this Lois clearly was.
She fetched up at the blackboard, where her hand suddenly swung up and slammed hard against the surface. “Damn them! Those...those...bastards!”
Her angry outburst echoed eerily through the abandoned building, making Clark hope fervently that it really was empty and that Trask was long gone. “You and Clark have to stop them,” he offered.
She leant her forehead against the blackboard, her hand still in place where she’d made contact. “How dare they?” She struck the surface again, less forcefully this time. “What gives them the right to invade people’s lives like that? It...it was the one thing we had together, the one special, private thing, and now they’ve even taken that away from us – from him.”
His lips pursed, the disapprover in him still unable to completely accept her legitimising their act of adultery. If they’d been less self-indulgent, a little voice said in his head, they wouldn’t be in the position they were in now.
Yet her distress was affecting and Trask’s cameras were clearly a flagrant breach of hers, Clark’s and even Lana’s basic right to privacy. That much he could completely agree on – even sympathise with. “No, they haven’t,” he found himself saying. “You still love each other, don’t you? They haven’t taken that away.”
“Calling him an ‘it,’” she fumed. “They have no idea! No idea what a warm, caring person he is. Clark has more humanity in his little finger than an entire army of Jason Trasks could ever have.” She sagged against the blackboard and gave a strange, strangled laugh. “It’s all my fault, of course. I encouraged him. Told him it was good therapy.” Her finger traced the shape of a heart through the dust on the black chalk face. “All because I needed him to prove how much he loved me. This is my reward for being so selfish, I guess.” Her hand fell to her side. “But how dare they?”
Her voice had lost its indignation and now just sounded wounded and lost. He walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Fight them, Lois,” he murmured. “Don’t let them get to you.”
“Oh, I won’t,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “Clark doesn’t deserve this and neither do I. Even if I have to kill them to get him the life he deserves, that’s what I’ll do.”
“There are better ways than killing,” he said mildly. “Violence is never the answer.”
Her hand slammed against the blackboard again. “Don’t lecture me!”
“Hey.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “You don’t mean it, Lois.”
“I do!” She swivelled and turned a tear-streaked face up to him. “I...I do.” Her voice broke. “I...”
And then she was in his arms, burying her head against his chest and sobbing. “Why...why am I crying?” she protested, angry through her tears. “I should be mad. Not...not crying like a baby.”
He rubbed her back, comforting her as he would his own Lois. “Because you can’t cry in front of Clark?” he suggested. “Because you always have to be strong for him?”
A lump was gathering in his throat but he did his best to ignore it. Just because he found his wife’s distress incredibly infectious was no reason to go to pieces with this Lois. If only she didn’t sound so miserable...
She nodded against his chest. “I...I try to keep his spirits up. He’s...he’s so battered and bruised from living with Lana. Last thing he needs is...is me crying all over him.”
He chuckled softly. “Well, cry all you like on me.” He was about to add something flippant about the bruises on his chest, but realised that, in fact, they didn’t hurt any more. Was he recovered – were his powers back? Hearing was usually the first thing to return, and...yes, he could hear the steady thrum, thrum of her heartbeat.
He let Lois cry herself out until she reached the sniffling stage, and then said softly, “We should go.”
“Where?” she asked, her voice desolate. “They’ll be watching my apartment.”
He nodded. “But they were probably watching it before,” he pointed out gently. “The only difference is now you know about it.” He felt her tense in his arms. “Look, how about I come home with you and sweep the place for bugs?”
“You can do that?”
“One of the advantages of having really acute hearing and sight,” he replied. “And yes, my powers - or rather, Clark’s powers – are back.”
She peeled herself away from him. “That’s good, I guess.”
He nodded. “And then I should go back to Lana and face the music there.”
“Are you going to tell her you were here?” She began dabbing at her eyes and cheeks with a paper hankie.
“I’m not sure – I need your advice on that. What do you think Clark would want me to do?”
She frowned. “He wanted to watch her covertly for a while, but after tonight, I’m not so sure. From what Trask was saying, she might be in as much danger as Clark is – more, even.”
“Yeah, that terminate remark didn’t sound too good, did it?”
“No. But on the other hand, I think he’d want to be the one to tell her.” She grimaced. “As much as I hate to admit it, he is still her husband and they’ve been together since they were kids. He knows best how to talk to her.”
“True.”
She stuffed the paper hankie back in her pocket and turned towards the door. “And he still cares about her.”
The blunt remark took him off-guard. Was he expected to challenge it? Reassure her that she was wrong? He could do neither without having ever met his counterpart. Although...
“She nearly killed him,” he pointed out.
“I know, but whoever said Clark Kent was logical?” she said. “He may say he doesn’t feel anything for her any longer, but if that were really the case, he would have left her by now. As it is, he’s staying with her because he’s scared she’ll be in danger if he leaves her.” She sighed. “Come on, let’s go back to my place.”
*****************
