Author's note: This chapter references events in, and uses dialogue from, the 1978 movie, "Superman".
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Perry spent the night watching the increasingly feverish video coverage of the flying blue-spandex-clad man, and dispatching reporters to wherever the man was reported to be. His reporters were always too late, arriving where the man had been, but never where he was now.
Perry gulped coffee. He'd pay for that tomorrow. But the story was now, dammit, and he was going to make sure the Planet got the news out. As word spread, amateur videographers infested the streets, and more and more video clips made it onto the media stream.
He gave up coordinating the flood of information and sat wearily at his editor's chair, just watching. Mostly the TV showed a replay of Lois and the helicopter, but as the evening progressed, some new clips showed. An eleven-year old got a great shot of the man from the back and side, flexing his knees and then levitating upward, in total defiance of gravity.
"Gravity," Perry murmured the old graffito to himself softly. "Not just a good idea. It's the law." He snorted. Apparently this man, whoever he was, could break natural law with impunity. He watched the clip again. The red cape with the yellow emblem – what is that, anyway? – fluttered in the breeze of the man's rising.
Perry mentally tabulated what he knew. Obviously a man. Black hair, cut fairly short. Tall, maybe six-two or six-three. He seemed muscular, but not overly developed to the point of parody. So far Perry hadn't gotten a close-up glimpse of his face. But his movements irritated Perry – they seemed so familiar, somehow. Perry got an annoying flash of déjà vu almost every time he looked up at a video clip of the man, but when he tried to pursue it, he couldn't recall.
"So who is this guy?" Perry murmured. "Some sort of experiment? Does he have some powerful jetpack underneath that cape?" But that didn't explain the strength, did it? "An experiment of some sort? Recombinant DNA? Ultra-steroids?" Perry got up and paced. "We need more information."
He wasn't the only one who wanted more information. The Planet fielded more phone calls that morning than it ever had. The usual answering staff dealt with most. Perry had to take only one call and it both perplexed and intrigued him. He put it out of his mind as he saw it was time for the staff meeting. He'd deal with the call later.
He put on his best editor's face for the staff meeting that morning. Perry called in everyone and threw today's newspapers on the table in front of them all.
"Now look. The Post – 'It Flies.' The Daily News – 'Look Ma, No Wires.' The Times – 'Blue Bomb Buzzes Metropolis'. He slammed down their own publication. "The Planet – 'Caped Wonder Stuns City.'" That headline was lame, in Perry's opinion, but it was the best they could do. A fuzzy photograph of a vaguely man-shaped object in the sky, silhouetted with the towers of downtown Metropolis in the background, only irritated Perry by its lack of focus and detail.
Perry stood straighter and pitched his voice to the edges of the room. "We're sitting on top of the story of the century here. I want the name of this flying whatchamacallit to go with the Daily Planet like bacon and eggs. Franks and beans!" He caught subtle nodding motions from his assembled reporters and continued. "Death and taxes! Politics and corruption!"
In surprise, Perry heard a diffident voice from the background.
"I don't think that he would lend himself to any cheap promotional schemes, Mr. White," said Clark Kent.
The interruption infuriated Perry, who was working up to a glorious rah-rah finish. "Exactly how would you know that, Kent?" he asked, getting in Kent's face. Everyone else in the room looked at Kent too.
"Um…first impression?" Kent volunteered.
Perry spun back on his heel. "Well, anyway, who's talking cheap? I'll make him a partner if I have to!" He began pacing in the small amount of office space left, addressing short sentences to each reporter in turn.
"I want the real story! I want the inside dope on this guy! Has he got a family?" Jane Morris gulped, made a note on her pad. "Where does he live?" Dick Williams nodded. "What does the "S" stand for?" Denora McClain made a small gesture of agreement.
"Tony, who is he?" Perry continued his rhetorical questions. "Mike, what's his name? What's he got hidden under that cape of his? Batteries?" A few reporters dared to make a slight curving of the lips that might, just possibly, be construed as a smile. "Why did he show up last night?" Several reporters nodded, obviously wondering the same thing.
"Dick, where does he come from?" Perry paced. "Does he have a girlfriend?" Perry turned just in time to see Lois with a secret smile. I wonder what that means. You've got the hots for him already, right, Lois? He moved on, but not before seeing Lois look down to read a small note in her hands. Hopefully it was from some source or other and she'd come by in a few hours with another great story.
Perry continued his oration. "What's his favorite ball team, Kent?" Perry ignored the abortive answer Clark made. Didn't Clark recognize a rhetorical flourish?
Perry worked up to the climax. "Now listen to me, I tell you, boys and girls." He straightened himself, using a practiced motion to gather attention. "Whichever one of you gets it out of him is gonna wind up with the single most important interview since…since God talked to Moses!"
Silence from the assembly. Irritation roiled Perry. Didn't they get it?
"What are you standing around about for? Move! Get on that story!"
The clattering of chairs and sounds of reporters rushing out reassured Perry. He hadn't lost his touch.
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Before Perry left for the morning and some long-overdue sleep, he called Lois in one more time.
"Are you OK, Lois?" he asked. He could see she was, but there were times she hadn't been, stubbornly denying weakness. Perry considered it his job to rein in Lois Lane when she needed it and wouldn't admit it.
"I'm fine, Perry," Lois replied. And indeed she looked pink, flushed with anticipation.
"Lois, I know you didn't get the Presidential interview last night – "
"I'm going to get it today," she interrupted.
"You sure?" Perry asked, incredulously. He didn't think anyone would be able to, given the packed Presidential schedule.
"Yeah, Perry, I got it arranged." Lois smiled. "All I had to do was mention that the flying man saved me too. The President was very interested in talking with me." Her smile faded. "By the way, Perry, have you heard anything from your contacts in Washington? Or the Pentagon?"
"That's something I hadn't thought of till now, Lois," Perry admitted. Face it – he wasn't young anymore. He needed his sleep. He could tell how much the previous night was slowing him down, costing him precious quickness.
He continued. "Whoever this flying guy is, if he's theirs, they're going to want to debrief him. And if he's not theirs – " Lois and Perry exchanged glances. The flying man had shown power. So far he'd used it in a benign way. But what were the limits of that power? And what if he chose to use it for other purposes, purposes that might not be so benign? It was certainly the duty of the politicians and the military to assess the threat – or possible threat – and come up with a response strategy.
"I'm getting the impression that this guy isn't theirs," Lois said slowly. "Just from the eagerness to talk with me. And from some other stuff I've heard."
"Lois, remember – you interview them. Don't let the President and his posse interview you, Lois," Perry told Lois unnecessarily.
"No chance of that, Perry," Lois said cheerfully. "Who's the prize-winning reporter here, anyway?"
"We both are, Lois, remember?" Perry asked pointedly. "Oh yes. That reminds me. How are you coming on the Luthorcorp story?" Perry thought about the odd phone call he'd received this morning.
"Well, it was going to be this Sunday's headline," Lois said, suddenly grumpy. "Now this flying guy is probably going to take over the front page."
"Lois," Perry said slowly. "I don't know about the flying guy. But I did get a very interesting phone call from Luthorcorp early this morning."
Lois stiffened. If she were a bird dog she'd be on point. "Yes?" she asked.
"Lex Luthor is granting your request for an interview," Perry told her.
She stared, momentarily flummoxed. "Why?" she asked. "We've been trying to get an interview with him for six months now. He's blown us off, put us through to the PR department when he wasn't stonewalling. Why now?"
"I don't know," Perry said. "But the condition is that the interview goes to you and to Clark Kent. The two of you have to come together."
Perry watched, interested, at the wash of emotions crossing Lois' face. Satisfaction at obtaining the interview. Closely-hidden fear – Perry knew that Lois and Lex Luthor had some sort of mutually disagreeable past, their shared work in convicting Lionel Luthor of murder long forgotten. Annoyance at having to work with Clark. Determination to get the story.
"OK, when?" Lois asked.
"Five p.m. today," Perry told her. "You'll be done with the Presidential interview by then?"
Lois looked at her watch. "Yeah. In fact, if I don't leave right now, I'll be late for the interview with the President."
"Oh-kay," Perry said quietly. "Get going, then, Lois. I'll tell Kent about the Luthor interview." He paused for one last set of instructions to Lois. "And find out what they know about this flying guy. I'd sure like to see him myself!"
Lois gave him a distracted wave and headed out, walking briskly
One last thing to do before my nap, Perry thought. He grabbed a young messenger. "Get me Kent." He watched as the young man buttonholed Clark right at the door, gesticulating wildly in Perry's direction.
"You wanted to see me, Perry?" Clark poked his head in the office door.
"Yeah, Kent," Perry said gruffly. "Lex Luthor is granting an interview for that story of yours and Lois'. Five p.m. today at the Luthorcorp Building. Be there."
Perry kept an eye on Clark without being obvious about it. As with Lois, the interplay of emotions on Clark's face fascinated him.
Surprise, that Lex Luthor would grant an interview. Then a strange moment of knowledge or realization - -why? Perry asked himself. Does Clark know why Luthor is giving this interview now? Then, very quickly, just a flash of fear. Clark reached up an adjusted his glasses, his hand lingering on the hopelessly unfashionable frames. Perry noted with interest that the apprehension turned into determination, with a tinge of satisfaction.
"I'll be ready, Mr. White," Clark said. Concern filled his voice. "Is Lois OK with this?"
"She better be," Perry barked. "This is what you two need to make that story complete. She can handle it."
"Right," Clark agreed quickly. The two men faced each other for a moment.
"Well, what are you standing around about for?" Perry asked, irritably. Definitely time for a nap. "Get out there and find out more about that flying guy!"
Clark looked down. "Right, Perry," he said. Perry couldn't see his face.
"Get going!"
Clark Kent quickly turned on his heel and left the newsroom.
Thank God, Perry thought, and turned the office over to his assistant. Then he staggered down to the lounge for six hours of blessed shuteye.
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He threw some water on his face and staggered off the couch like Bigfoot on a bad day. After a cup of coffee, he felt a little more human. Perry headed back up to his office to see what the day had brought.
Growling at those who tried to engage him in conversation, Perry sat down at his desk and read Lois' interview with the President.
"Outstanding, as always," he mumbled to himself. It was too bad, both for Lois and the President, that this flying guy was taking over the news. The President's visit to Metropolis would be below the fold today. Heck, the President was lucky it wasn't on page three.
And Lois…what other reporter would have three front-page worthy stories all at once? The Presidential interview. The flying-man eyewitness account. And the less glamorous, but still important interview with Lex Luthor, an interview that would be the capstone to her years-in-the-making expose of Luthorcorp and its ethically shady business projects. Frankly, Perry expected the Luthorcorp story to have the most long-term effect. At least the Luthorcorp story would be held for the Sunday edition – it wouldn't have to compete with the other two stories.
Speaking of that…"Lane! Kent! In my office, now!"
The two reporters trooped dutifully into Perry's office, suppressed excitement on Lois' face, a smooth mask of non-expression on Clark's.
"Where's that Lex Luthor interview, you two?" Perry asked.
"Um, we don't have it," Kent began gingerly.
"What? Lex Luthor offers you two an exclusive interview? An interview you've been trying to get for six months? What'd you do, not show up? Did you have a taxicab breakdown?" Perry huffed. "Please tell me that you have it and you just haven't written it up yet."
"Perry, don't jump all over Clark," Lois scolded. "It's not his fault. It was the weirdest thing, actually…"
"What?" Perry asked.
"Well, Clark and I got to the Luthorcorp building in plenty of time, Perry," Lois said pointedly. "And we got into Lex's office, and he came striding into the room, you know the way he walks when he's trying to impress you."
"It's that billionaire body language thing," Clark murmured.
"And?" Perry asked.
"Well, he came up to us – and Clark, didn't he have the strangest smile on his face – "
"Yeah," Clark agreed. "Kind of a superior-looking grin, even though he has to know that the story we're working on is a killer for him."
"- and then he was shaking my hand and Clark's, and all of a sudden he just fainted." Lois headed for the chair in Perry's office and sat down emphatically.
"Fainted?" Perry asked.
"Yeah, fainted," Lois repeated.
Clark took off his glasses, fiddled with them, opened and closed the earpieces a few times, wiped at the lenses. "We called for his staffers, and they were right there."
"And Lex was back up in a few minutes," Lois added. "But, Perry, when he got up he didn't seem to remember a lot." Cynicism was in her voice.
"Didn't remember a lot?" Perry said carefully.
"Awfully convenient, don't you think?" Lois asked. "That way he can deny knowing about all the stuff we're going to grill him on." She walked over to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup of coffee. "It doesn't matter, Perry. The story is well-documented enough that Lex Luthor won't be able to skate out of it this time. The interview was just to give him a chance to respond."
"Lex Luthor claiming amnesia," Perry said wonderingly. "I never thought he was the type." He poured himself some coffee. "You've both met Lex Luthor before. Heck, I've met him before. This just seems out of character for him." He took a sip of coffee. "In fact, Clark, I seem to recall that you knew Lex Luthor very well at one point."
"And he knew me," Clark said quietly. "We became…estranged…some years back."
Perry snorted. "That sounds like a Luthor. Everyone who knows them well eventually becomes estranged. But why isn't he playing on your previous acquaintance? Knowing how Lex acts, he'd figure out some way to use that, for sure."
Clark looked down at the glasses in his hands. He gave the lenses one last cleaning, almost in an affectionate manner, thought Perry. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe he knows it would be useless to go back to old times, Perry." Clark replaced the thick black frames on his face. "Maybe Lex Luthor really doesn't remember."
