From last time:
“Come on, we need to move him,” the first guard said. Clark tried to steady his nerves, he would only have one chance. He would need all of his strength and courage to accomplish this. If he could convince them that he was nothing resembling a threat, perhaps they would lower their guard. The two unfastened Clark’s bonds. Clark feinted toward one as though he was going to collapse, but then pushed the guard as hard as his weakened body could. He tried to flee but took exactly one step before his knee seemed to explode. He fell to the ground in a twisted heap of agony.
“Damn fool,” the second guard exclaimed as he grabbed Clark. “Where did you think you could go?” he yelled right into Clark’s ear. Through the dim fog of his mind, however, Clark barely heard him. He looked up through tears at the blurred visage of a long familiar apparition. She silently fell to her knees beside him, her own eyes shining bright with tears, and touched his face.
“I’m sorry,” Clark whispered, choking back a sob.
********
New Stuff:
Talan reached for her communicator. More than six weeks since his disappearance, she and her comrades continued to scour the planet for him. Hope was fading, but it refused to die.
“Ma’am,” came the voice over the transmitter. “We have actionable intelligence. A group of paramilitaries was seen moving not far from your position.”
“You believe they have Kal El with them?” she asked, her heart suddenly speeding up.
“Initial reports suggest that is the case. A transport has been sent to your position. Prepare to dispatch in twenty minutes.”
She used the time to recheck all of her weapons, though she’d kept them in perfect condition. Unconsciously, she reached for the chain around her neck. She pulled it out from under her uniform and looked at the little metal ring held between her fingers. Its surface was now marred by tiny little scratches. She tucked it back away. If the fates showed any mercy, she would soon return it to its owner.
The transport appeared in the sky and descended rapidly overhead. Still hovering, the ship’s cargo door opened and a rope ladder was dropped. She grabbed the ladder and was immediately lifted from the ground. Within moments, she’d climbed into the ship and was greeted by a familiar face.
“Lieutenant Commander Ching, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I thought you could use some help, ma’am,” he replied. “I promise I will not slow you down.”
Talan merely nodded. “We cannot get too close by ship,” she explained. “If they realize that we have found him, they will likely kill him.”
“Agreed,” Ching replied. “What do you suggest?”
“We will disembark out of visual range and approach on foot. Once we confirm that we have found Kal El we will request extraction.”
The sun sank toward the horizon on their journey and the sky took on a dusty hue. The cover of night would allow them to move more freely. In a measure of time that felt at once like a blink of an eye and an eternity, the ship approached its final destination and began to descend again. Once again the ropes were dropped from the cargo doors and Talan and Ching quietly dropped from the transport. They hit the ground silently and began to move.
Adjusting her visual lenses to the dimming light, she took in the terrain trying to determine where Nor’s men could be keeping Kal El. While they moved him almost constantly, they had particular habits and preferences – abandoned barracks, old mining facilities, the former forward command stations of the Expeditionary Forces. They preferred reinforced buildings with bunkers or cellars. Maintaining radio contact, she and Ching split up in order to cover more ground. She approached a forward settlement; many of its residents had quit this outpost when the troubles had swept into this part of the planet. Nonetheless it wasn’t abandoned. She quickly disassembled her rifle and packed it away, along with the lenses. Her overcoat covering her uniform, she hoped to avoid drawing too much attention to herself.
She’d spent years working for the most advanced military force the universe had ever known, but she knew that nothing was more valuable than human intelligence. If she could glean some information from the people in and around the settlement, she stood a much better chance of finding Kal El than she would if she simply wandered about the area hoping to stumble across Nor’s latest hiding place. At the same time, if the people of this settlement were sympathetic to Nor, she risked tipping him off to her presence.
Quietly, she surveyed the outpost. It was largely silent, though definitely inhabited. She tried to stay out of sight as she wandered around the town’s outskirts. Just outside the settlement’s border, a glimmer of movement caught her eye. She turned to follow it, checking the sidearm tucked under her overcoat to ensure it was easily accessible. Moving in absolute silence, she crept forward, unwilling to lose the element of surprise. It was, however, she who was surprised in the end. What had caught her attention had been a child. A little girl in fact. Talan could not wager to guess how old she was, but she was much younger than ten. She relaxed her posture and tried to smile.
“Good tidings,” she said softly. The child turned to face her, startled despite Talan’s every effort to be disarming. “Do you live here?”
The little girl nodded but said nothing.
“Where are your parents?”
“Mother is sick and father was called away,” the child said in a bare whisper. She looked up at Talan, wide-eyed.
Talan knelt down beside the child, hoping that by eliminating the vast difference in height between them she’d seem less intimidating. “Have you seen men near here? Strangers who would have been wearing uniforms?”
The little girl nodded. She pointed toward the hills in the distance.
Talan smiled, tight-lipped. “Thank you,” she said. “Now you should best go inside. It grows late, little one.” She stood and turned to leave.
“Are you the traveler?” the child asked.
It took Talan a moment to realize that the little girl was referring to the nursery rhyme every Kryptonian child knew.
‘A traveler passed through the other day.
A traveler who came but did not stay
A traveler passed through, all dressed in black.
A traveler who came and did not come back.’
Talan had never given any thought to the source of the rhyme or its meaning. “I am *a* traveler,” she responded.
“May I go with you?” the little girl asked, her bottom lip trembling.
“I am afraid that my road is long and dangerous. Go back inside where you will be safe.”
The little girl nodded sadly. “Goodbye, traveler.”
“Goodbye, little one,” Talan replied.
She walked toward the hills, radioing to Ching to give him her location. They reconvened in the foothills, unfolding their maps of the area and comparing them to the terrain. The disappearance of the sun behind the horizon had left the sky dark. The air grew cold and sharp with the impending night.
“The only building in this area is an abandoned barrack through this pass,” she explained as she looked at the map. She looked up and easily located the correct route, not far in front of them. Shouldering their equipment, they raced for the pass, their haste reflecting the gravity of their mission. Within minutes, they had cleared the pass and had located the target. She tried to calm her breathing, quickened not by exertion, but by jitters that she’d once thought had been banished from her mind more than a decade ago. A safe distance from the building, sheltered from view by an outcropping of rock, they switched the lenses to the heat sensing mode and scanned the building. “Five rebels and Kal El,” Ching said evenly.
Talan nodded in grim agreement. Kal El was easy to recognize as the solitary, immobile figure in the building’s basement. “Find the frequency they are communicating on.”
After a long moment, he announced, “I have it. There is a patrol they are monitoring. It sounds as though there are three teams of two.”
She frowned. “Are they nearby?”
“The nearest is twenty minutes away.”
“Call for extraction now,” she commanded, knowing that the ship was waiting for the order. “We must complete the evacuation before the patrols realize what has happened and return.”
Ching placed the call and gave the order. He turned to her. “What are you planning?”
“I will take out the building’s power and communication systems to create a diversion. I will try to neutralize as many targets as possible. Get Kal El out. Do not wait for me.” Her tone was stern and insistent.
“Commander?” Ching raised a questioning eyebrow.
“That is an order,” she replied harshly, her brow darkening over her steely gray eyes. “If I fall behind, you leave me behind. The only objective is to get Kal El out.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
Under the cover of darkness, she made her way toward the building. Nervousness roiled in her gut. With trembling fingers that she willed still, she connected the explosive charges to the building’s radio and power grids. She was thankful that all of these old barracks buildings were identical; she knew their grids and layouts like the back of her hand. She retreated a few feet and took a deep breath before detonating the charges. A small crack accompanied by a wisp of smoke proved the charges were effective. She took cover and waited. Less than a minute later, she heard the sounds of footsteps approaching, at least two pairs. Good, she thought. The more of them who came to investigate the problem, the easier it would be for Ching. She held her weapon in tense arms, her index finger hovering above the trigger.
********
Ching watched as two of the rebels exited the barracks. He quietly snuck around to the other side of the building and the secondary entrance, grateful that the layout to the building was so familiar. He scanned the building to locate the last three rebels, only one with Kal El, the other two were on the other side of the building. He forced his way through the door as quietly as possible and headed toward the basement. His weapon drawn, he crept silently down the stairs. Managing to get the one rebel in his sights, he fired once. He did not need to fire again.
Ching raced down the remaining stairs, taking three at a time, into the darkened basement. What he found stunned him into silence. He swallowed roughly, a gasp escaping him. He had expected to find Kal El in awful shape, but he was not prepared for the sight in front of him. The man strung up before him was the mere shell of a human being, thin, weak, and unconscious. He moaned piteously. Ching felt his heart leap up into his throat as he approached. In the darkness, he had been unable to ascertain the extent of Kal El’s injuries from a distance. The other man’s body was covered with wounds and bruises. Cuts around his eyes and forehead bled profusely. The dark stains of blood covered his face, except for two thin tracks where the tears had washed the blood away.
Cringing, Ching broke Kal El’s bonds. A faint moan escaped from the injured man. “It will be all right, Clark,” Ching whispered in English. He lifted the First Minister onto his shoulders. The other man should have been much heavier; instead, he was barely a burden. He only had a few minutes before the patrol would return. He tried not to jostle Kal El as he moved up the stairs and toward the exit. In a few brief seconds that seemed like an eternity, he found himself outside, racing toward the extraction point. Shouts coming from behind him signified that the remaining rebels had learned of his presence and were giving chase.
Talan seemed to appear from nowhere and was immediately at his side as they raced toward the extraction point. Laser rifle fire singed the air. Talan turned once and fired. A ship descended just ahead of them. Deliverance. Ching ran faster and harder; while less of a burden than he should have been, Kal El’s weight did slow him.
A sudden fire exploded in his heel and his entire leg seemed consumed in flames. He cried out as he stumbled to the ground, Kal El falling on top of him. He tried to lift himself up, he could not fail Clark. He would not fail.
********
Talan turned to fire again, hitting their other pursuer. They were hardly in the clear though. She could hear the approach of the first patrol. They would soon have rather unwelcome company. Turning back to Ching, she hoisted Kal El onto her shoulders. Months ago, he would have been far too heavy for her to carry effectively. Ching struggled back to his feet. “Can you run?” she asked breathlessly as the crack of laser rifle fire shattered the air again.
Ching nodded, his face contorted in pain. He hobbled as they ran, both burdened, to the safety of the ship. The transport’s doors opened, welcoming them. She labored under the weight as they covered the last few hundred feet. Soldiers leapt down from the transport and shepherded them inside, providing cover fire. She nearly collapsed to the metal floor of the ship. The interior of the ship seemed to spin; the shapes and colors around her were blurry and muted. Medics raced to the First Minister and began tending to his wounds. In their cryptic medical code, they shouted instructions to each other. Their voices sounded distorted.
She watched as Ching scrambled toward the side of the ship, grimacing in pain. A medic started toward him. “Help him!” Ching barked through clenched teeth. The hapless medic jumped back as though he’d been burned. Ching grabbed his ankle, the leg of his uniform soaked in blood.
The shock finally wearing off, she moved toward him and started to draw the knife at her belt. She looked at the blood covered hilt and resheathed the blade. Instead, she pulled out her boot knife and cut away Ching’s boot and the cloth of his uniform around the wound. Ching stifled a groan as she worked. She doused the wound in antiseptic, eliciting a strangled scream from the Lieutenant Commander. “You’ll be fine,” she said curtly as she wrapped the wound, stealing glances back at the medics as they worked on Kal El. She could not tell from their somber instructions and efficient movements whether the prognosis was good. His condition looked grave to her untrained eye, but she knew his life was in their hands. Talan quickly finished bandaging Ching’s wound. She looked around at the cold, sterile confines of the ship. The droning hum of the motor reverberated in her skull.
They had found him and they were taking him home. She only hoped that they were not too late.
********
Zara stood between her mother and father on the docking bay, waiting as interminable minutes ticked away. Her brothers had requested to come, but she’d emphatically said no; they did not need to see this. Ching had called her not long ago; the tone of his voice conveyed doubt and concern, even as he tried to reassure her.
She looked up as the ship descended and docked. The ship’s door opened and the medics raced out with the stretcher. Zara craned her neck to get a look at Clark. She bit her lip; he was so pale and thin, the life seemed to have been drained completely out of him. The medics raced past them without slowing. Soldiers disembarked from the ship, Talan and Ching were the last at the end of the line. Ching leaned on the tall commander, limping as he walked.
“What happened? How is he? Are you all right?” Zara asked, her impatience and nervousness reflected in the pitch and timber of her shaking voice.
“We raided the barracks where he was being held. He was unconscious when we found him, but the medics seemed to have stabilized him on the trip. We encountered resistance during extraction,” Ching explained, and thought to add, “I’ll be fine, the wound was minor.”
Zara turned to look down the long hallway that the medics had taken Kal El through. Any relief that should have come with Kal El’s return was overshadowed by the guilt that came with knowing that all he’d suffered, all he’d endured, had been because he’d selflessly answered their call for help. Worry gnawed at her. His fate was in the hands of the greatest doctors in the world, but all she could do now was pray that they hadn’t been too late. She looked back at Ching, wanting to do more than merely nod approvingly. She wanted some comfort as they waited to learn more about Kal El’s condition. She wanted to let him lean on her and at the same time, draw strength from his solid, reassuring presence.
********
Lois stood out on the porch, unbothered by the cold. Fall had been a busy time on the farm. Somewhere in her mind, Lois had always known that would be the case, but this year and last, she’d finally developed a true understanding of what that meant. All around, there was an explosion of colors as the red, orange, and yellow leaves on the trees slowly fell to the ground. There was a crispness in the air, laced with the scent of burning hickory coming from fireplaces unseen.
But the hustle and bustle of the harvest was now a memory and autumn, stretched out, was fading into the quiet, drowsing cold of winter. Fall brought out the communal spirit in the farm; everyone worked together in a symbiosis, not only with each other, but with the earth, to raise from the ground the fruits of months of labor. But winter was lonely, in its silence and stillness.
She looked forward to sharing Christmas with her son for the first time, to capture that sense of family and belonging that being with the Kents at the holidays gave her. But Christmas also made her feel her husband’s absence more acutely. Christmas was his favorite time of year; it brought a light to his eyes, and a smile to his face that made her believe in magic.
She wondered what he was doing, how he would mark the occasion. Whether Christmas made him feel as lonely as it made her feel. She found herself holding the ring – his ring – gently in her hand. Almost nightly, she dreamt about him, about his arms, his lips, his neck. The sound of his voice when he whispered her name, the richness of his laugh that was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard.
The only thing that gave her comfort was the fact that the sun still rose and set and the stars still twinkled brightly in the sky. These things were clearly under her lover’s command. The heavens continued to turn because he willed it. The sun shone because he wished it. What other explanation could there be? He was alive because he had to be. Because a world without him was inconceivable.
And nonetheless, she worried that he was in pain. She worried that he needed her and she could do nothing to comfort or help him. He may have been in danger, he may have been crying out for her, and she could do nothing for him. She’d promised him he’d never be alone again.
Breaking that promise was killing her.
********
Tao Scion stepped slowly out into the hallway. He lifted his head; dark circles had formed under his bloodshot eyes. Deep lines of worry were etched in his usually placid face. His shoulders were stooped and he shuffled wearily, his age suddenly apparent, his posture projecting such tiredness.
“How is he?” Zara asked anxiously, searching his expression for some clue, some evidence of Kal El’s condition.
“He will survive,” Tao Scion began. “His wounds were quite severe. Many broken bones, torn ligaments in his arms, he’d developed numerous infections and bronchitis.”
She swallowed around the large boulder in her throat as she listened to the doctor’s diagnosis. The old physician’s words cut into her like shards of glass. “Will he recover?”
“We have controlled the infections and are treating his wounds; we’ve medically induced a coma to keep him more comfortable.”
“So he is not in pain?”
A ghost of a smile crossed Tao Scion’s face. “No, ma’am.”
She nodded, tight lipped. “May I see him?”
“Of course,” the gracious doctor replied before leading her to the First Minister’s room.
Zara tried to brace herself for the sight of a once healthy and strong man laid low by long weeks of unspeakable torment. She failed. Zara had to bite her lip to keep from gasping. Tubes ran from machines to his thin, frail body. Drones monitored all sorts of biological data, beeping and whirring incessantly. “When…when will he wake?” she whispered.
“We will allow him to regain consciousness in a week, perhaps two,” Tao Scion explained. “He is more comfortable this way, and it is allowing us to, well… you know that Kal El was exposed to unimaginable trauma for quite some period of time. His mind is not the least of the casualties of these events. In order to regain some semblance of peace and quiet, we must reduce the stress upon him. Six weeks of constant adrenaline exposure has taken its toll on him. We can help him recover now, while he sleeps.”
“Thank you, Tao Scion. For everything you have done for both of us,” she said gratefully.
“It is my pleasure to serve, ma’am,” he replied with a humble bow. “I will ensure that you are kept constantly apprised of his condition and any changes.” With that, Tao Scion quietly exited.
She walked toward Clark’s bed and hesitantly reached out to touch his hand. It was warm, but he did not respond to her presence. “Hold on, Clark,” she whispered. “You must continue to fight.”
********
Talan sat in her quarters, having not retired until she’d received word that Kal El had been stabilized. She finished polishing her boots and tucked them away in her storage locker. Her room was bare and simple, even by Kryptonian standards, and everything was perfectly in its place. She picked up a clean cloth and removed her knife from its sheath. Dousing the cloth in antiseptic, she slowly, methodically began wiping the blood from the blade. She cleaned and polished it until it was impossible to tell that the instrument had so recently been used to drain the life from her adversaries.
She wiped clean the edge, startled when she cut the palm of her hand on sharp blade. The steel felt cold at first, but then the wound began to sting and burn. She watched as her blood stained the blade, and thought it odd that the bloodthirsty knife she held in her hand had never tasted her blood before. Talan found it strangely fitting; if she was to obtain a wound from this ordeal, it made sense that it was at her own hand. She bandaged the wound and returned to cleaning her equipment.
Standing, she put away the last of her gear and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror over her washbasin. The chain around her neck glimmered under the room’s lights. She gingerly lifted the chain over her head and placed it carefully on her bureau. It was safe now, and soon, she’d be able to return to its rightful owner.
********
“Aaaaaahhhh!!” Nor growled as he threw a chair against a wall. It bounced with a loud thud and crashed to the ground.
“This is exceedingly problematic,” Rae Et seethed.
“I know that, mother!” Nor continued to shout. “I’m well aware of the problems that we have!”
“Oh no, my son, this is your problem, not mine. Your incompetent forces were responsible for this situation.” She stood from her desk and walked toward her bookcase, ignoring her son’s presence.
Nor ran his hands agitatedly through his long hair. “I’m going to kill them!”
“That would be more appropriate were they not already dead.”
“I’ll kill her, this is her fault. It has to be.”
“You have far more important concerns than some commander, no matter how much you hate her. Kal El saw you. You tormented him with your own hands. If you think we can continue operating under plausible deniability, you are sadly deluded, my boy. You should have killed him when you had the chance.”
“Well I thank you for that sage advice as it comes far too late, Mother! Have you anything to say that would be useful now?” Nor paced restlessly in his mother’s office.
********
Zara stood beside Clark’s bed. The numerous wounds that covered his body made it impossible to pretend that he was simply sleeping peacefully. “His condition is improving, ma’am,” Tao Scion explained softly. “It has only been a few days, but he is strong.”
“The scars…” Zara murmured as she looked at the healing cuts and dark bruises on his face.
“He will have them for the rest of his life,” Tao Scion replied. “The wounds are too old and while they will fade, many are quite large.”
“The ones on his face, though…” Zara asked insistently. “What of those?”
“They are far more superficial, I suppose I can try to minimize their appearance,” the physician mused. “There are far more important elements to his recovery, though…”
“Kal El has a life on Earth that he will return to. He will take nothing from this place but unpleasant memories and scars. He should not have to wear them for all the world to see, to gawk and stare and wonder at his private hell,” she replied grimly.
Tao Scion merely nodded in understanding.
