PART FIFTEEN
Dr Schulz’s lab was a scene of chaos and destruction when Lois and Clark arrived. Uniformed and plainclothes policemen mingled with men and women in suits wearing grave expressions. Clark assumed these were the senior management of Star Labs, come to assess the extent of the damage for themselves. The floor of the lab was covered in debris, but the object which drew the eye upon entering the room was Schulz’s teleporter machine.
Or what was left of it.
The console screen was smashed. The keyboard had lost more than half its keys, and the mouse dangled forlornly from its cable. The power generator’s casing was blackened and the wires emerging from it had melted. Most of the oscilloscopes were smashed, and the four satellite dish things at the top of the machine each had large chunks missing, as if a gigantic mouse had bitten into them.
Clark looked at Lois. “I know we asked Dr Klein to render it safe, but this is taking things to the extreme, don’t you think?”
Lois rolled her eyes. “Klein didn’t do this.” She pointed to a corner of the lab. “Look, let’s go and ask him.”
Dr Klein was perched on a high stool, wincing as a paramedic tended to some sort of abrasion on his head. Poor guy-
/Wonder where I...get...symbol like the one...suit?/
“Huh?” Clark stopped walking towards Dr Klein and turned to Lois. “Did you say something?”
“No. Why?”
He frowned. He could have sworn he’d heard someone speak to him. Perhaps he was picking up something from a nearby radio. “Nothing.”
Lois eyed him quizzically and then shrugged and led the way to Dr Klein’s corner of the lab. Clark followed after a moment’s hesitation.
“What happened?” he asked when they reached the scientist. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” replied Klein huffily. He looked up at the paramedic. “Am I okay?”
“He’s fine.” The paramedic zipped up his bag and straightened. “A few cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.”
“Hmph!” Klein prodded gingerly at the small plaster on his temple. “You try being swung at by a crazed scientist wielding a lethal weapon and see whether you think it’s serious.”
Lois shrugged. “After a while, you get used to it.”
Clark grinned as Klein and the paramedic eyed Lois warily. “We get a lot of threats,” he explained. “It kind of goes with the territory.”
“Call your doctor if you feel nauseous or dizzy,” advised the paramedic. “Otherwise, take the rest of the day off and get some rest. You’ll be fine tomorrow.”
“I will?” Klein eyed the paramedic balefully as he walked away. “Go home and rest, he says. He doesn’t know how much paperwork this has caused me.”
“I’m sure no-one would mind if you left that until tomorrow,” soothed Clark. “Crazed scientist, you said. Who was that?”
Klein harrumphed. “That idiot Schulz. Came in here while I was working on his pet toy and told me some rubbish about not being willing to stand by while I ruined his life’s work. I told him I wasn’t ruining it, I was just making it safe, but he wouldn’t listen – he was almost hysterical.”
Clark tried to picture the suave man who’d rebuffed all criticism with calm disdain throwing a hysterical fit and failed. He just couldn’t imagine-
/His parents...the farm...-ville./
Clark stiffened. Someone was definitely talking about him.
Not a radio, either. The voice was closer than that. He glanced around the room, surreptitiously tipping his glasses down his nose to get a better view. No-one seemed to be paying him the slightest attention. Listening briefly into the various conversations taking place in the room told him that no-one here was talking about him. So where was this voice coming from?
He felt Lois’s hand on his arm. “Sweetheart, did you leave the gas on at home?”
“Huh?” He frowned, and then the penny dropped. “Oh...no.”
“You had that look like you’d forgotten to do something,” she explained for the benefit of Dr Klein. “Sorry, Dr Klein, you were saying...what did Schulz do next?”
“Pushed me aside saying he was going to lock it down so that I couldn’t do any more damage. Trouble is, in his hysteria he didn’t notice the modifications I’d already made.” Dr Klein shook his head sadly. “I always suspected he was unstable. Probably a genius, but they say genius is madness’s twin brother, don’t they?”
“Haven’t heard that one,” said Clark. “So what happened?”
“I tried to warn him. You’re going to destroy it, I said, but he just yelled at me to shut up.” Klein fingered his plaster again. “I should have left him to it. I wish I had. But...well, I hate to see good science go up in smoke, so I tried to stop him. We scuffled, and that’s when I got this.”
“What did he hit you with?” asked Clark.
Klein’s gloomy gaze moved to the shattered console and the dangling mouse. “I didn’t realise the casing was so hard.”
Clark looked at Lois, who was clearly biting the inside of her mouth in an attempt not to laugh. “That mouse is your lethal weapon?” he asked, keeping his own expression carefully neutral.
“In the hands of a madman,” replied Klein defensively, “anything can be a lethal weapon.”
Clark raised his eyebrows. “I guess it can.” Okay, so it had a couple of sharp corners, but a lethal weapon? Did this mean that Dr Klein was going to live in fear of mice for the rest of his life?
“Where’s Schulz now?” asked Lois.
“How do I know?” said Klein. “I imagine he’s been taken to some kind of psychiatric facility.”
/Maybe I can have the ‘S’ symbol made for me/
Clark blinked. There it was again. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said the voice was in his head. Considering the current conversation about madmen, that thought was just a little disturbing.
Nah, he wasn’t going nuts. This was just something he didn’t understand yet. He’d get through the interview with Klein and then deal with it.
He caught Lois watching him, small frown lines gathering between her eyes. Okay, he was worrying her. Time to tune this...whatever it was out of his thoughts and focus. Flashing her a quick smile of reassurance, he asked Dr Klein, “What will happen to his project?”
Klein shrugged. “It’ll be folded up. I’ve got his notes, but I doubt the board will want to let anyone else continue his work. The publicity will be bad enough as it is.”
“And his funding?” asked Lois.
“You’ll have to ask the board about that.”
“But we shouldn’t be surprised if you get that new electron microscope you were recently refused?” Lois’s eyes were twinkling conspiratorially.
It was Klein’s turn to switch on a bland expression. “I really couldn’t comment.”
**************
Star Labs wasn’t that far from the Planet, and it was a sunny day, so Lois didn’t have much difficulty in persuading Clark that they should make the journey on foot. He fell into step beside her, apparently quite unsuspecting that she had an ulterior motive.
Something was bothering him and she intended to get to the bottom of it. He’d been strangely distracted while they’d been talking to Dr Klein, and she’d assumed, at first, that he’d been hearing a call for help. When she’d offered him an excuse to leave, though, he’d dismissed it. If he wasn’t hearing calls for Superman, what was troubling him?
She didn’t know the answer to that, but she was pretty certain that he’d try to deal with it on his own rather than risk worrying her.
Lunkhead.
“So, no need, any longer, to worry about getting swapped into another universe,” she remarked, glancing across to him as they walked along the street. Even now, he looked like he was only half-listening to her - a frown creased his forehead and his eyes were unfocused.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’d feel happier if Schulz’s notes were destroyed, though.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They reached a crossing and waited for the traffic lights to change. “Do you think we could persuade Dr Klein to hand them over to us?” she asked.
“I doubt it.”
“Maybe we could ask to see them and accidentally spill coffee on them.”
“Maybe.”
The lights changed and they set off again. “Although,” she continued, hurrying to keep up with his increasingly long strides, “he’s probably got everything on computer as well. We’d have to accidentally delete his files.”
“Yeah.”
“Right after we set fire to his lab,” she said, suspecting that he wasn’t listening to anything she was saying. He didn’t even seem to be aware that he was walking too fast for her.
“Yeah.”
She upped the ante. “And planted a bomb under his chair.”
“Yeah.”
Nope, no-one at home in his head. “Perhaps a knife through the heart for good measure?”
“Yeah.”
Okay, time to cut to the chase. She halted and watched him stroll ahead of her, clearly oblivious that he was now walking alone.
Was it possible he’d get all the way to Planet before noticing he’d lost her? “Clark!”
He stopped, looked to his right at the empty space where she should have been, and turned around. “What?”
She stood her ground and beckoned him with a single finger.
Frowning, he walked back to her. “What’s wrong?”
“You just agreed to torch Dr Klein’s lab, bomb his chair and stab him through the heart.”
“I did?”
“You did.” She let that sink in for a moment, watching confusion flash across his face followed by guilty comprehension. Time to press home her point. “You didn’t hear a word of what I was saying, did you?”
He winced. “No. Sorry. I’m a little distracted.”
“You don’t say. Care to share?”
He grimaced and thrust up a hand to fiddle with the hair at the back of his neck. “Well, it’s kind of weird.”
“Try me.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He looked at her warily. “If I told you I was hearing voices in my head, would you think I was crazy?”
Voices in his head? Oh, boy... “Well, if you were anyone else, I would, but with you, sweetest, anything is possible,” she replied carefully. “What are these voices saying?”
His wariness increased. “They seem to be talking about me.”
As if it had a life of its own, a corner of her mouth curved upwards. “There are voices in your head and they’re talking about you?” If he didn’t look so uncomfortable, she’d have laughed. Instead, she forced the unruly corner downwards again, taking pity on him. “Just as well I know for a fact you’re not crazy.”
“Thank you for that vote of confidence. So I was thinking...”
She nodded. “...what if it’s the same as last night...”
“...only this time, it’s not just feelings I’m sensing...”
“...it’s thoughts.”
“Yeah.” He glanced around cautiously to make sure they weren’t within anyone’s earshot. “Telepathy?”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“I have no idea.” He shrugged. “I mean, I know I was able to talk to the New Kryptonians telepathically, but they were...well, here. In this universe. This person, if it’s who I think it is-“
“Clark?”
“Yeah. He’s in a different dimension.” He began walking down the street again and she fell in step beside him. “But what other explanation is there? If we rule out me being crazy, that is.”
“Beats me.” She grinned. “You should try sending something back to him.”
“I have.”
“And?”
“Nothing. I don’t know whether the message got through and he hasn’t bothered to answer, or if I’m not doing it right. Or maybe he’s as confused as I am and doesn’t know what to do with this strange voice in his head.”
She slipped her hand into his. “Keep trying. I’d like it if we could keep in touch with them.”
“Me, too.” He squeezed her hand. “Of course, I’m glad that Schulz’s machine has been destroyed, but I have to admit I was disappointed that we’d never find out if things worked out for them or not.”
“Well, perhaps we will now.” She smiled up at him. “You may be different, Clark Kent, but I wouldn’t trade those differences for anything. We’re so lucky, you and I.”
“Yeah?” He paused on the sidewalk and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I guess we are. Or I am, for having a wife who doesn’t automatically think I’m nuts when I tell her crazy things.”
“Just don’t ever try to convince me you can fly,” she said. “That really would be crazy.”
He chuckled, then suddenly set off at a jog, tugging her along with him. “Come on, let’s see if you’re right.”
“Clark!”
But her protest was ignored and she was forced to jog with him, amused by his unusual burst of impulse. Moments later, he’d rounded a corner into a shaded alley and had hoisted them aloft, somehow changing into his suit at the same time.
“So,” he murmured as they crested a cloud. “Is this crazy?”
“Yes.” She craned forwards and pressed a kiss to his lips. “But it’s also wonderful. Don’t ever stop being different, sweetheart.”
He smiled. “Oh, I won’t. With you, being different is so much fun.”
**********************
Clark surfaced from sleep into warm, snuggly bedclothes and the sound of running water next door in their en-suite bathroom. He smiled dopily. How nice it was to wake up to the sounds of Lois getting ready for the day ahead having spent the entire night with her. How nice it was to dream that he might do this every day for the rest of his life.
They’d made love many times during the night, each coupling more loving and leisurely than the last. His injuries hadn’t seemed to matter, but eventually their need for rest had won over their desires and they’d drifted into deep sleep. Now, he could only assume that he’d begun to heal during the night. Heal pretty fast, in fact, because today he felt great.
He sat up in bed and experimented with his powers. Yes, he could see through the wall to the outside where an elderly couple were loading up their car ready to leave. Yes, he could read the number plate of the RV parked on the far side of the car park. And yes, he could float up off the bed for a foot or so.
He grinned. He was back.
His other powers he’d leave until he’d had more opportunity for practice. Freezing and heating things required more control than he was confident he could yet exert.
He gazed out the window to the motel car park and the countryside beyond. Sooner or later they’d have to re-emerge from their comfortable hiding place. Nice though it was to languish here in glorious anonymity, safe from Skywatch’s clutches, they couldn’t hide for ever.
As a start, Lois had phoned Perry yesterday to let him know that they hadn’t dropped off the edge of the planet. She’d told him an edited version of events – that Clark had gone missing, that she and Lana had searched for him, that they’d found him and rescued him from a vicious gang of thugs. She’d left out certain important details, like the fact that the gang was actually a government-funded organisation chasing after Clark because he was really from another planet, reasoning that Perry already had enough to cope with - it wasn’t every day that one of your reporters got kidnapped. Anyway, he probably needed to be told that side of the story in person, because it really, really wasn’t every day that you discovered one of your reporters was an alien.
Perry, after tearing a strip off her for taking things into her own hands and not calling the police, and then yelling some more when she informed him there was lots she wasn’t yet able to tell him, had finally calmed down when she’d assured him the Planet would soon have a major exclusive on its hands and that banner headlines would be forthcoming. Apparently the sound of gnashing teeth had rapidly been replaced by hands rubbing together with glee. He’d even expressed genuine concern for Clark’s well-being, something Clark hadn’t anticipated following recent sticky encounters with the chief. Perhaps, after all, there would still be a job to return to when they finally made it back to the Planet.
Meanwhile, what was happening in the world? He grabbed the TV remote off the bedside table and, after flicking through a few channels, found some news.
He blinked and sat up straighter.
Apparently a mysterious pile of wood blocks had appeared on a derelict building plot in central Metropolis. No-one could say where they’d come from yet, judging by the pictures, they made a fairly impressive sight. The plot was shortly to be redeveloped as the new location for a research institute called Star Labs, and there was speculation that the wood block pile was some kind of protest by anti-vivisection groups. Another theory, said the newscaster with an admirably straight face, was that the mysterious appearance was linked to the recent miracle at Metropolis airport when an ailing airplane was carried down to safety by an unseen force.
Clark stared, dumb-struck, at the screen. Wood blocks? Star Labs? What the...
Laughter bubbled up from his chest. In a way, the newscaster was right – the airport incident and the wood blocks were linked. Surely they had to be the missing wood blocks from Dr Schulz’s experiments with that teleporter machine! Somehow, they’d at last rematerialised in this universe, having been stuck in limbo ever since Schulz had first attempted to move them from one side of his lab to the other.
Oh, boy, if only Clark could write about this in the Planet. He so, so wanted to tell the world what had really happened; the facts were was just so much better than any of the theories being expounded by the newscaster. No-one would believe him, though. Even after they learned there was an alien living in their midst, universe-hopping wood blocks would be one far-fetched story too far.
Still chuckling, he reached for the remote to switch the TV off, but his attention was snagged by the newscaster announcing a return to Metropolis harbour for an update on events there. Intrigued, he sat up straighter in bed, crossing his legs under himself.
A chaotic scene filled the screen. Two ships lay in the water at an acute angle to each other, both listing badly and looking for all the world like a pair of injured whales. A black pool of oil seeped from the side of one of the vessels, increasing the illusion of a beast wounded by a mortal blow. Around the stricken ships, two or three smaller vessels circled, and from the commentary, Clark understood that these were emergency vessels attempting to rescue the crews of both ships and contain the oil leak. Apparently there was a fire on board one ship and there was serious concern that the oil slick was drifting towards it.
For a split second, Clark felt all the blood rush from his head and the world turned mute. This was it. This was the big one. His chance to make a difference. Never mind that he barely knew how to fly and he knew nothing about maritime disasters, the die had been cast for him. He had to go.
Now.
“Lois!”
He was off the bed and scrambling into the suit even before he’d finished bellowing her name. Still yanking on his boots, he hopped over to the bathroom door and thumped on it. “Lois!”
The door opened to reveal a drippy Lois clad in nothing but a skimpy white towel. “What?”
“It’s time...I have to...Metropolis harbour, two ships sinking fast, oil slick, fire.” He finished pulling on the second boot and rushed to the door. “It was on the news.”
He pulled the door open, intending to-
“Take me with you.”
She was right behind him, a wet hand on his shoulder. How had she moved across the room so fast? “I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
“Take me.” The hard determination in her voice jerked his gaze up to her face. Her eyes were like steel. “You need me to write this story.”
She was right, but he really didn’t want her in danger, and besides... “You’re not...” He waved a weak hand at her towel then turned away again. “I need to go.”
“Then help me get ready.”
Again that hard determination. He turned around and sighed. “Lois...”
She pulled away the towel, apparently heedless of the fact that they were standing in an open doorway. “We’re wasting time.”
Oh, boy.
He slammed the door shut and, moving as fast as he possibly could, grabbed her clothes, pulled them over her, gathered her into his arms and flew out the door and up into the clouds.
He travelled for quite a few miles before she said anything. She was okay, he was certain, because he could hear her heart racing along and she was breathing easily if rather fast. Perhaps he’d taken her request for help just a little too literally. She probably hadn’t been expecting to be dressed at superspeed.
“Um.” Her voice wobbled and she cleared her throat. “I think...I think you forgot my bra.”
He felt his face flush. “Sorry.” How could he have forgotten such an essential item? Although, to be fair, he’d never dressed a woman before, and undressing them, which he’d done plenty of times, was a different matter entirely. He let his gaze dip down momentarily. “You look fine.”
“I don’t feel fine. I feel...” She shifted uneasily. “Unsecured.”
His flush deepened. “Lois, I’m sure no-one will notice.”
“You think? She fell silent for a few moments, and then nodded. “You’re right. They’ll be too busy looking at you.”
He gulped. She had a point. And suddenly this full exposure thing, this fame thing, felt far too near at hand. He’d been fine talking about it, fine just thinking about it, but this was the real thing. Everyone was going to know what he was...
“Hey,” she murmured. “You’ll do great. Just focus on the job.”
The job. Rescuing two sinking ships and preventing an oil slick from catching fire. Yep, just your normal, everyday kind of a job. Thinking about that was supposed to make him feel better, was it? Okay, so the first task was pretty obvious – put out the fire – but what then? Which ship would he tackle first? Should he take the crew off or try to repair the damage? Which would be quickest, and anyway, how did you repair the side of a ship?
Oh, boy. Did the other Clark have butterflies in his stomach the first time he attended a big rescue?
When they neared the harbour area, Clark dipped down to release Lois in one of the narrow backstreets behind the docks. As soon as she was on her feet, she flung her arms around him and kissed him fiercely. “I love you and you’ll do just fine,” she said, and then stepped back and made urgent upwards motions with her arms. “Now go, Superman!”
Stunned, he took off again, her kiss still tingling his lips and her words ringing in his ears. Superman. She’d called him Superman.
He was Superman.
He sped up, suddenly aware of his cape flowing strongly behind him and the fresh wind in his face. He could do this. He was, indeed, Superman.
*****************
Dousing the fire proved to be fairly straightforward. A few puffs of freezing breath – and he didn’t have to worry about being too subtle with it – and the fire died rapidly.
But now what? He circled above the scene, eyeing the two ships. Both were listing more than ever, but it wasn’t at all clear to him which was the most in peril. Should he simply begin snatching crew members in pairs and setting them down on the decks of the rescue vessels? What if he picked the wrong ship and the other one went down while he was working? He’d heard that ships, once they’d begun to sink, went down very rapidly. And what if there were injured crew members? Could he risk lifting them when he didn’t know a thing about first aid?
Do something! Anything!
But I don’t know what to do.
Just make a decision and go with it!
What if it’s the wrong one?
He circled some more, x-raying into the ships to locate the crew members. Both sets were huddled together on the bridge, and in both cases, there were indeed injuries. One man was lying down; another was sitting on the captain’s chair supported by his colleagues.
What to do?
I don’t know what to do!
tbc...
