Hi readers,
Keeping my promise, there is more of Lois and Clark in this next chapter.
I've been advised by my betas that this is also quite a long, intense chapter, so I'm going to split it into two parts. I shall post the 'b' part tomorrow morning. So without anymore of my ramblings....
Chapter Three
Reprieve
While the new day was filled with anxious planning for the two doctors, in another time zone a woman lay alone in a king-sized bed, her eyelids fluttering tremulously in an uneasy sleep. Though Lois had had many months to come to terms with her life as a single mother, widowhood would never be a state with which she would be comfortable.
Yet this was the role fate had bestowed upon her, and she had no intention of changing it. No other man could ever replace Clark. Lois was still 'in love' with her husband and always would be. She had no doubt of that. But, for her children's sake she had to go on with her life; to get up in the morning, to eat and drink to stay healthy, to do her job, so she could keep a roof over their heads... and to make her children's life as happy and normal as was possible in the circumstances.
But in addition to all this, she had made a promise to herself that she would keep the memory of Superman alive and the work they had embarked upon together -- to try with all they had to make the world a better place. Clark was gone. Now Lois would carry on alone for his dear sake.
She had known life would be a difficult, but she'd never expected it to be this hard.
Lois tossed and turned, and waking up plumped her pillow exasperatedly. Inanimate cotton and feathers just weren't a substitute for Clark's warm muscled chest. She was just deciding to go downstairs for a cup of Oolong tea when a furtive scratching on her bedroom door reached her ears.
“Come in,” Lois said softly, though in the silence of the night, her words sounded overloud.
The door creaked open and a tiny white face peaked round the crack. “Can I come in, Mommy?” a very young female voice asked, yet the owner didn't wait for an answer as she propelled herself onto her mother's bed in a tumbling rush. Victoria Kent never moved anywhere slowly.
“What's wrong, Vicky? Can't you sleep?” Lois pulled her daughter to her side, in a tender hug. Her children were always a welcome distraction when she felt at her lowest. It was almost as if they had a radar system that recognized her moods.
“No, Mama.”
Oh-oh, that title spoke volumes. Vicky only used the word Mama when she was tearful, believing that at five-years old she was now a big girl and should progress to Mommy or even Mom like her siblings.
Her baby's pain lifted Lois from wallowing in her own pit of despair. It was only natural that her kids were going to miss their father and it was up to her to console them in their time of need, and if she found release in so doing, then Lois couldn't see that as a crime. Contrary to Lois' worries of long ago, she had bonded deeply with each of her children and adversity had only drawn them closer.
“I had a bad dream, Mama,” her daughter confided. “Some very bad people came and took Daddy away, and I couldn't stop them. I tried and tried... I kicked and hit them, but they made him go away. I couldn't save Daddy.” Vicky's tirade ended in a desperate sob.
“Oh, sweetie,” Lois whispered into Vicky's silky hair as she hugged her baby tighter still. “It was just a bad dream....”
“No, Mama. Daddy is gone”
Lois could feel her daughter's tears on her nightshirt while her own threatened to spill and soak Vicky's head. She swallowed hard and sought for something comforting to say. “I know, honey. Daddy has gone to a better place, but he has never left us.” Still holding Vicky loosely in her arms, she leaned back to look into the childish face, streaked with tears. “I know you can't reach out and touch Daddy anymore, but you think of him a lot, don't you, sweetie?” She waited while Vicky nodded. “And you talk to him. I've heard you.”
Vicky nodded again, but more doubtfully. “Is that bad?”
“Oh, no. I do it too.” Lois gently stroked Vicky's hair. “All the time.”
“You do?” Vicky stared in amazement at her mother.
“Yes! I think we all do. Sara and Matt, too. You should talk to Sara, but maybe not Matt. He won't admit to it. Boys are like that. They like to pretend they are strong... and Matt feels he has to look after us now that Daddy's not here....”
At that reminder, Vicky's bottom lip began to tremble and the sobs that were drying up threatened to return in force. Lois thought quickly, then went with her instincts. She took one of her daughter's small hands and placed it on her breast.
“Do you feel my heart beating, Vicky?”
In the darkness, Vicky's eyes gleamed. “I hear it, Mama.”
“Daddy is here in my heart, sweetie, and as long as my heart beats, then Daddy's will too.” Lois took their clasped hands and touched them to Vicky's pyjamas clad chest. “He's in your heart too, isn't he?”
“Yes, he is,” Vicky announced with all the conviction of her five years.
“And as long as you remember him, Daddy will never leave us. You, my precious, are the best part of me and of Daddy. When you were born, he was thrilled enough to burst. You must never forget that. As long as we have each other, Daddy will be happy. And I know one thing without a shadow of a doubt -- he loved you so very, very much.”
“I love him too, Mama. He's not here, but I still love him.”
Now it was Lois' turn to nod and smile -- the wisdom of a child. “And that's exactly how it is with Daddy. He loves you still.”
“I think you are right, Mama,” Vicky said very seriously, after a second or two of reflection, then a tiny grin turned up Vicky's rosebud mouth. “Can we have hot chocolate, Mama?”
“I think that can be arranged, sweetie.” Lois climbed out of bed and pulled on her robe. “In fact, I think chocolate is just what the doctor ordered, and maybe I could read to you for a bit until you went back to sleep, Princess Tory. How about that?”
Vicky's brow drew down in a frown; she was not amused. “Mama! Don't call me that. Princesss Tory is Daddy's name for me.” Vicky voice hissed on the s's.
Which was true. Clark had followed Sam Lane's tradition of calling his daughters his princesses, but Clark had meant the endearment with all his heart from the very beginning. Vicky's nickname, however, had developed a special meaning and it had to be spoken with just the correct inflection... the emphasis being on the s's. Of course, historically speaking there had been a Princess Victoria who had become Queen of Great Britain, but Clark's nickname was a play on words.
Since his role of Superman had tended to take him away from his family a fair amount, Clark had always made a point of spending time with his children at bedtime whenever he could, and Vicky being the youngest had probably benefited most from this habit. Metropolis had by then become a comparatively safer city than when Superman had first taken to the skies.
Besides, Victoria Kent had, very early in life, followed in both her parents' footsteps and become an avid lover of storytelling. As soon as she was old enough to make sense of nursery rhymes, Clark had read her to sleep almost every night. His younger princess had soon progressed to fairy tales, the more romantic the better, and as soon as she could string even the fewest words together, she had demanded of her Daddy a 'tory' at bedtime.
Within no time, Clark had begun to adapt his youngest daughter's name to Princess Tory and because it always drew happy giggles from the little girl, the name had remained.... Only now, since Clark's death, Vicky fanatically protected her pet-name as being one shared only between her father and herself.
At Vicky's disapproving and crestfallen stare, Lois realized she'd stepped over the line. “I'm sorry, sweetie, I forgot. That was Daddy's special name for you.” Her arm snaked round her daughter's small shoulders in apology. “I didn't mean to upset you.”
Looking up at her mother with large sad eyes, Vicky decided her Mama could be forgiven. After all, Vicky did love hot-chocolate milk and, since Daddy wasn't around to read to her anymore, Mama was the best substitute. “OK. Will you read me the story of the Princess and the Pea?”
“I certainly will, honey, and we'll drink our chocolate in bed too.”
The little girl smiled again as the bad dream faded from her mind, and while Mama told her the story, she would cuddle up close to Mama's heart, where Daddy would always be.
Later, as Lois watched her child sleep, she drew in a deep breath on a silent cry and closed her eyes. She wouldn't return to her big empty bed tonight, but would spend the night with Vicky. Step by careful step, she'd survived another day in the rest of her life without Clark.
*****
In the bunker, twenty-four hours had passed since Adrienne and Janik had formed their unlikely alliance and Janik was back in Adrienne's room for another brainstorming session. Aware of the more lackadaisical attitude of the few remaining staff, they hoped that the lateness of the hour would preclude their discovery. If not, Janik suggested, with some embarrassment, they could always fall back on the excuse of a lover's tryst.
Adrienne blushed rosily at his words, remembering what she'd suspected was the reason behind Janik's first clandestine visit. Which, when she'd had time to think about it, was a ludicrous notion. The man's permanently doleful demeanour was hardly one of a sexual predator, and, at this moment, their lack of progress was making him look even more discouraged.
They still didn't have a complete escape plan and both were very aware that the clock was counting down to Hyesan's return. However, they had managed to formulate an idea which they hoped would fool the General into believing they'd carried out his orders. Yet the problem of how to get Superman safely out of the bunker still eluded them.
The hero might have lost some of his bulk, but he was still a large, fairly heavy man and not one who could be easily lifted up the steep stairway of the cell by one slight woman and a man who might be tall but was also very lanky. So far, with the guards dragging him, Superman had managed to stumble from his cell, only this time, he would be unconscious.... In fact, for the sake of the cameras he would have to appear dead. Unless they 'killed' him in the treatment room, which would, at least, solve one dilemma.
But what would they do with him once they had gotten him out of the complex?
“There's always Teo!” Adrienne suggested, having run out of all other ideas.
Janik's gaze returned from contemplating Adrienne's wall. “Who's Teo?”
“Teo is one of Superman's Korean guards. He's one of the few left behind.”
“What makes you think he'd help? None of the Korean's seem very sympathetic,” Janik said sceptically.
“But I think he's different. I noticed a while back that he seemed to take more care of his charge than the other soldiers. So I started watching him. He keeps the cell clean and makes sure Superman eats his meals. Did you never wonder who provided the cot in the cell, or the blanket that appeared on Superman's mattress when the weather started getting colder? Teo gave up one of his own blankets. Of course, he can't do too much for fear of incurring Hyesan's wrath.”
“I never knew that. You've obviously being paying much more attention than I have,” the immunologist admitted guiltily. “I haven't exactly been very attentive of our patient, have I?”
Janik and Adrienne had individually reached the conclusion not to continue using the degrading name of 'specimen'.
“You haven't had daily contact with him as I have.” Adrienne offered an excuse, not wanting to see her co-conspirator stew in a fit of self-blame, which wouldn't help their endeavour one bit. “Anyway, after watching Teo, I decided to ask him why he helped Superman....”
“You've spoken to one of the soldiers? You can understand their language?”
Most of the important discussions on the treatment of Superman had been carried out in English since the doctors were of different origins. All three knew English fairly well, as did the General, though he spoke with a thick guttural accent. None of the soldiers, however, seemed to speak any other language but their own.
“My father drummed into me the fact that I should learn the language of the people I was working with. He thought I'd follow in his footsteps, and believe me, I've been wishing recently that I had. But, at least, I'm thankful that I took his advice about the language. I'm not totally fluent, and I can't write it... still, what I do know has been helpful....”
“I can see that, but what did you find out from this guard?” Janik gazed at her with a growing sense of admiration. This woman was not the timid little bookworm he'd thought her to be.
“Apparently, Teo comes from the region that was hit by that earthquake. Before Hyesan managed to capture Superman, the hero had helped out in Teo's village, rescuing a lot of the villagers. Teo's family included. I'd stake my life that Teo is against what's being done to Superman, but he can't speak up, of course. Foot soldiers in this army can only obey orders, otherwise they or their families would suffer.”
“That's true. I've seen some pretty brutal discipline meted out to soldiers who disappoint the General. But are you sure that this Teo would be brave enough to want to help? I'd say the fear of what could happen to his folks is a pretty strong deterrent. If you get this wrong, our lives probably will be at stake!”
“I believe it's a risk worth taking. I think he would want to do what he could, if we can convince him that no one will ever find out that we helped the superhero escape or that he is still alive.”
“That's imperative.” Janik's head nodded determinedly on his thin neck. “I don't want to see Superman dead, but I don't want to sign my own death warrant either. We get him out of here and to someplace where Hyesan can't recapture him, but after that he's on his own.”
“I wish we had time to reverse the surgical process....”
“No!” Janik stood up abruptly, frightening Adrienne. “There's no time for that, and believe me it will be a much trickier operation to remove those chips than it was to implant them. They've been in his brain for over a year now; such surgery could kill him and neither you nor I are capable of doing the job. Besides, we don't want to see Superman back in the skies. If the hero returns, Hyesan would know exactly what we'd done and he's a psychopath. That man would take great pleasure in hunting us down and killing us, and somehow I don't think he'd make our dying easy. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Adrienne, but I'm not a very brave man.”
Adrienne stood too, and reached out to touch Janik's arm for the first time ever. “Don't apologize. I'm not very courageous either. If I was, I would have tried to put an end to this whole nasty business long ago.”
Janik, placed his hand on top of Adrienne's and gazed at her with his habitually jaded expression, as if he were disappointed in himself and his life. “There was nothing you could do, Adrienne. There's no way you can reach the outside world from this wretched country to let them know what's going on. Believe me, you are expendable. If you'd objected, Hyesan would have killed you and found a replacement. And, at least, you were as kind to Superman as you could be under the circumstances. We're both doing the best we can to help him survive, and that's all we can do now.”
“You're right, we can't undo the past.” Her hand lingered for a moment before dropping away and when she spoke again her voice was more business-like. “So, I should talk to Teo?”
“I can't see what other choice we have. We need help to get Superman out of here, and maybe he'll even have some suggestions about where we take Superman afterwards. We're not very far away from the Chinese border, but I have no idea how to get there.”
“Then we have a plan. I'll ask Teo first thing tomorrow morning and we'll meet back here tomorrow night....”
“Yes, but after that we have to move more quickly. Following tomorrow, there will only be two days left. We want everything sorted before the day of Hyesan's return. In the meantime, I can start working on that supposedly lethal injection. Getting the green color is easily done, but kryptonite has a certain glow... I might have to use a minute quantity mixed with the strong sedative. Oh, do you have Superman's current stats, like weight and such? If I don't get the proportions right, I could end up killing him by mistake.”
Adrienne moved towards the door, realizing their plotting was over for the time being. “It's good to be prepared and I'll get his file to you tomorrow.” She halted suddenly, as yet another worry entered her mind. "What about Ablelev? We both know he can't be trusted. He'd run straight to Hyesan, if he found out what we're up to."
"I doubt that'll be a problem. It seems the little weasel has needs that can't be 'scratched' in this prison. He's been having to ignore them for months while the General was around, and having a hard time doing so. He's informed me that since his 'clean up' is already done, he's entitled to some rest and recreation. Apparently some of the soldiers are taking advantage of Hyesan's absence and have agreed to take him down to the local 'knocking shop', where booze and women are plentiful, if you have money and you're not too choosy. And it also means that there will be fewer guards on camp."
"I always knew the man was a moron! I hope he picks up something disgusting and painful," Adrienne said with feeling.
"Oh, I agree, but in this case the fact that he's a sleazeball makes our life a whole lot easier."
Adrienne reached for the door, but her troubled eyes searched her companion's face. "I wish I'd chosen a different life."
Janik smiled sadly as he went through the door which she'd opened. “Me too! And thank you for Superman's file." He raised his hand towards her, but let it drop without touching her. "Try not to be too down-hearted, Adrienne. We'll succeed, you'll see. Doesn't it say in the Bible that the meek shall inherit the Earth?”
Adrienne returned his smile. “Goodnight.” But as her colleague started down the corridor, she called softly. “Janik, what's your first name?”
“Stephan.” His voice came back to her out of the dim lighting, and did it hold the echo of pleasure? “Till tomorrow, Adrienne.
*****
The light had dimmed automatically in the patient's small room which meant that it was night. The lack of brightness was almost his only method of measuring time, that and the meals that were brought regularly to him in the morning and again in the evening.
There were still the drugs, of course. Twice a day the doctor would appear with two guards who were ready to hold him down while she administered the injection. He found that precaution strange. Had he once objected to his medication so viciously that they'd needed to restrain him? He didn't think he was a violent person, but then he really didn't know anything about himself, which must mean he was sick. Certainly, he now accepted that those jabs, along with the treatments he received each day, were for his own good.
Yet his routine had changed. During the past few days - - he couldn't tell exactly how many - - he hadn't been taken to visit the treatment room. Which had to be a good thing. Maybe he was starting to get better, though Dr Ducos appeared in his room to give him his medication as always. He'd asked why he still needed it, if his treatment was finished, but she'd simply answered that it was necessary for his condition to remain stable.
Briefly, he'd considered asking the doctor to explain what his 'condition' would mean for him in the future, but he was too lethargic to listen to lengthy explanations. Besides, he tended to trust Dr Ducos. She was one of the few of the medical staff whose name he knew. She was, also, kinder to him than the rest of the personnel, apart from Teo, perhaps, and she did seem to genuinely care about his welfare.
No, whatever was wrong with him must be a chronic disability because he'd been in this strange hospital for such a long time and he was still no nearer to remembering his past.
Sometimes he'd dream that this place wasn't really a hospital, but when he awoke he could never hold onto his reasoning for that suspicion. The only facts he'd been able to discover, since he'd been here, was that he had needed surgery and follow-up treatments to control some brain dysfunction he'd suffered. What exactly those treatments involved he simply didn't know because he was mostly unconscious for their duration, only waking up much later to find either Dr Ducos or Teo looking after him.
It was all very confusing, but he had no concrete reasons to doubt the little he'd been told. After all, his medical team might not be very friendly, but they hadn't mistreated him either... not that he could remember... and his personal orderly and the doctor were nice people... in a distant sort of way.
Besides, the alternative to accepting what he now knew about himself was unthinkable. Without some sort of anchor, he was lost and totally bereft. He needed some sense of being... of belonging, and no one else, neither family nor friends, had stepped forward to claim him.
*****
But the nightmares had claimed him, and again that night they came for him; vague outlines of people he felt he should know, but their faces always remained in shadow, their presence merely faint sketches on the pages of his empty mind.
A woman staring at him through the gloom. Perhaps the doctor, for she was the only female he was acquainted with. No, this woman had chestnut coloured hair which framed her face like a halo. If only his vision wasn't so clouded then he might recognize her, but the only other feature he could discern were her eyes - - eloquent brown eyes with a glint of tears mirrored in their depths. Who was she, this sorrowing woman who haunted his nights?
The snake-like hiss of his door opening and quiet footfalls on the stair threatened to interrupt his dreams, but he turned his back upon the unexpected intrusion. His spiritual visitor had come to him many times in the past and always before, she'd left him without revealing her identity. Yet he never lost hope that just one time she'd step into the light and fill the empty places of his life with purpose. This could be the night, and he refused to allow reality to trespass on his unconscious thoughts.
There was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him urgently, but still he refused to leave his dreamworld.
“No, leave me alone,” he mumbled into his thin pillow, as he attempted to pull his blanket over his head.
“We can't,” the voice was hushed, close to his ear. A female voice, but this time it was the doctor. “Keep silent, say nothing,” she directed, but it was more of an entreaty than an order.
At last, intrigued, he left his refuge of sleep, knowing that with waking his ghosts would fade from his thoughts. He wished he could keep hold of the dreams, but always they slipped from his mind like desert sand through a sieve. He thirsted for self-knowledge, but only the uneasy awareness that he'd had yet another nightmare remained to taunt him.
Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be turned onto his back. The bright ceiling-lights shone directly into his eyes and he squinted at his unexpected visitors. Within a few seconds his sight adjusted to the glare and the image of Dr Ducos came into focus, leaning over him. Behind her two other men stood. He quickly identified Teo, and the older man was vaguely familiar. Hadn't he seen him in the room, occasionally, when he'd been having his treatments?
Oh, no, did this mean they were about to renew the treatment sessions? He hoped not. The treatment always left him feeling weary and even more disconnected. And he'd been told that the cessation of this therapy meant that his disease was under control. Was that no longer true?
But, now that his senses were waking up, he noticed a slight difference in Dr Ducos' manner. She never came that close to him and she never whispered to him either.
“You have to trust us,” she said, almost under her breath, as if she didn't want the microphones to pick up her words, while her position, bending over him, probably hid both their faces from the cameras' view. “This isn't what it seems. We don't want to hurt you.”
Then she was pulled back and the man he only vaguely knew was shaking him and saying stridently. “Out of the way, Dr Ducos. You're always far too considerate of his feelings. He's only a good-for- nothing layabout. Wake up, specimen! It's time for another treatment. Your final treatment.”
The man in the bed didn't like the sound of that, yet as the male doctor gripped his shoulders, he noticed the doctor wink - - and he didn't think it was an involuntary action. No, he did it again! Specimen, for that was the only name he knew was his, wasn't quite sure he understood what a wink meant, but somewhere underneath his perplexity, he did feel reassured.
Dr Ducos interjected herself between him and the other doctor. “There's no need for name calling,” she threw over her shoulder. “Let's try to make this as easy as possible.”
Good! The man allowed himself to relax further as woman took over again. He was familiar with this procedure, yet his feeling of comfort fled as she beckoned Teo forward and he noticed the syringe on the tray which Teo held. His eyes fixated on the needle. Surely after all this time he'd be more used to having injections, but there was something slightly different about this particular hypodermic needle - - it glowed faintly green.
And that set his nerves on edge. He decided green wasn't his favorite color. But before he could muster some resistance, or even voice his objection, Dr Ducos was sliding the needle into his arm, the greenish-tinged drug disappearing inside his vein.
“Argh,” he groaned aloud. “That hurt!” Normally, Dr Ducos was very gentle when administering his medication.
“I'm sorry.”
She sounded sympathetic while she rubbed his muscle to ease the pain, and to ease the drug's progress through his system, suggested a small wary voice in his mind.
“Can you stand? We need to take you to the treatment room.” She moved back again as she spoke, enabling Teo to offer him assistance.
“Why? Do I need more treatment?” His voice sounded slurred even to his own ears. He pushed himself up and swung his legs from the bed, the usual dizziness from the drugs making his head swim, but this time it was accompanied by a feeling of nausea. “I'm sick...” he managed to grind out before his head started to roll and his legs began to sag like an old, worn-out rubber toy.
Teo's large hands steadied him and, immediately, the second man was at his other side, propping him up. Between them they supported him as he made a stumbling attempt to climb the stairs. It took longer than normal and he was extremely grateful for the gurney which waited outside his door.
Now there was a thing: a question popped randomly into his hazy brain. Why did his hospital room have a flight of stairs? Wouldn't it have made his treatment easier if the gurney could have been brought to his bedside? Of course, under normal circumstances he'd always been able to walk from his room with just a little help, and he just about made it this time.... As his legs gave out completely, he was manhandled onto the gurney.
The lights in the corridor were dim, or was it his vision that was fading? Looking to the side he could still discern the figure of Dr Ducos as she hurried along, but she did seem to be wavering in and out of focus.
The little group about him swung the trolley into the treatment room and somehow managed to transfer him to the surgical table. He would have tried to help, but he felt a whole lot weaker than normal, and he knew he was going to throw up, unfortunately. This was different! What had they done to him, and what were they about to do to him?
tbc. To be continued in ch 3 part b
