[CHAPTER 4: Structure]
Howard Stone, head of security at the Foundation, waited outside the room to brief Julie and the others as Dr. Klein examined Superman. Kal sat shirtless on the bed with some nervousness under the sun lamps. He was no longer bleeding, and he was no longer overly sensitive to sound, but his equilibrium was still severely skewed to the right for some reason.
He tried not to track Dr. Klein as he paced.
"Okay, the only thing that makes sense is that your dense molecular structure was forced to hurt itself. I'm thinking the frequency of sound you were hit with was high enough to cause certain cells to vibrate into each other, primarily those making up your softer tissues - capillaries, eardrums, ect.."
"That . . . sounds likely," Kal agreed.
"The good news is that your body recovers very quickly in sunlight. Your sound sensitivity appears to be gone. Is that right?"
"Yeah. I don't feel like my hearing is completely back to normal, but it's not painful anymore and I can hear what’s going on outside if I concentrate."
Klein nodded, bringing his attention back to the microscope.
"I know today wasn't great for you, but there is a silver lining. We now have a much better understanding of your blood chemistry and how your cells repair themselves. Sunlight is the best way to help you, by far.
"What I'm still not sure of is why your equilibrium is taking so long to recover. With your eardrums and cellular damage repaired, your sense of balance should be back," Klein said, pulling back. "Can you describe how you're feeling again?"
"It's hard to put into words. Uncomfortable, crowded almost. Not exactly restricted but . . . I don't know."
Klein sat down on the stool by the bed.
"I wonder if this ties into my theory I've been thinking about concerning your invulnerability."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I sort of took it from Dr. Daitch. If you recall he wrote a short memoir on working with you against Nightfall. He included his theory of you producing an aura that surrounds your body, which spreads your invulnerability to anything close to your skin, like your uniform.”
Kal-El nodded, remembering Professor Daitch’s brief comment about him having an aura that allows his uniform to survive going in and out of the atmosphere.
“I think it may go further than that. I believe your aura gives you another layer of awareness humans like myself do not have, and it may do more than that. I don’t know what this does for you exactly, but it’s clear your body generates some sort of energy that extends from your skin and it is likely why you are feeling what you describe right now.” Klein tapped his chin in thought. “And actually, I think we can test this.”
He went to the table and removed some tissues from the tissue box they had retrieved for him before his nose had stopped bleeding. He then grabbed two sterile scalpels from a drawer.
“Ok, hold out this arm over here and the other over there,” Klein said.
Kal, understanding what he was doing, did so.
Klein placed a thick stack of tissues on each forearm and then brought the blade down and across his left arm.
All but the very last tissue directly against his skin was cut through.
Klein's eyebrows rose at the result before he then slid the second blade against the tissue stack on Kal's right arm.
Amazingly, none of the tissues suffered any damage, even though the blade had compressed them just as much as the first stack.
“Your aura is warped,” Klein said, bewildered, holding up the top undamaged tissue to inspect it. “This must be why your balance is off. On your right side, your aura is extending out much further than normal, and your left side is nowhere near where it should be. I imagine, if you were shot, there would be areas of your uniform that would suffer damage, but thankfully your skin remains impervious."
"Do you think this is permanent?" Kal asked.
"I don't think so. When I first began examining you, your balance was much worse than it is now. I think you just need time to recover. Likely just a few days," Klein assured. "We'll still keep an eye on it of course, but I think informing certain officials that you're taking some personal time may not be remiss."
Kal nodded slowly. "I haven't taken any days off since I returned a few months ago, so it shouldn't be too concerning for people. I'll let Mav know to make a few calls."
"No, I will. You get some sleep," Klein all but ordered.
Kal chuckled. "Alright, doc."
O o O o O
Lois dropped her bag by her front door, exhausted.
International flights were always a bear, but that last flight was especially rough.
She had stopped by the Planet after she landed, checking in with Perry and getting another round of congratulations for covering Luthor's end so well. It was appreciated, especially since it had been one of the hardest stories she had ever covered and wrapped up. There were even noises that she might get a Pulitzer for her coverage of 'Luthor's Fall'.
But she didn't let herself dwell on that. There was another monster to take down. Intergang, and as soon as she caught up on her sleep and recent events, she'd contact Kent and see where he was at on it all.
She kicked off her shoes and turned on the TV as she went to her room to change out of her clothes.
'An investigation is underway at Metropolis Care Hospital following the suspected murder of Sound Gang leader, Lenny Stoke. An individual disguised as a nurse was confronted by hospital security after exiting Mr. Stoke's recovery room. Unfortunately, the individual escaped after resisting arrest and is still at large. Minutes after the confrontation, the former Rockstar went into cardiac arrest and was pronounced dead twenty minutes later. The suspect is said to be a Caucasian, middle-aged female, 5'7", short dark hair, medium build. She is armed and extremely dangerous. If anyone has any information, please contact the police department.'
Lois frowned, listening to the news anchor as she quickly got into more comfortable clothes before returning to the living room.
'In other news, the Superman Foundation privately informed city officials and world leaders earlier in the week that for two days Superman would only be available for emergencies above level three due to personal reasons. The Foundation has just released the following statement, here it is--'
The screen changed from showing the news studio to the front of the Foundation where Mav Ervin stood behind a podium. Superman was not present.
'As all first responders are entitled to some time off, we feel Kal-El should be afforded the same as well. Now, after discussing logistics with community leaders and even upper government officials, any time Superman will not be conducting his typical services, we will inform the necessary individuals in the community and the world so they can be ready in case minor or moderate emergencies arise. We will not publicly announce such times until after they have passed, however, as unlawful individuals may attempt to take advantage. Now, in the case of serious or global emergencies, Superman will of course be available, just as other emergency personnel are during their time off. Thank you.'
"Huh. Well, makes sense," Lois said, pleased the Foundation was being proactive and direct with such things. The news anchor came back on.
'Speculation for why Superman took two days this past week is wide. Some theorize it involves the bank robberies conducted by the Sound Gang earlier this week before being brought down by Superman and the MPD,' the news anchor prattled. 'Others believe it concerns the recent execution of Lex Luthor who had nearly prevented him from stopping Nightfall and returning to Earth. But whatever the reason, I have no issue with Superman taking time off for himself and know many others feel the same way.'
Lois nodded to herself, although she too was curious about why exactly Kal had taken time off. She frowned, suddenly recalling his return to Earth and subsequent recovery. She hadn't considered how he would feel after it all. She hoped he had someone to talk to - but perhaps that's why he took some time. To talk to his adopted family?
"I suppose I can just ask him the next time I see him."
O o O o O
"So your aura has recovered?" his dad asked.
"Yes. It's back to normal now, thankfully. I was tired of feeling like I was walking crooked or something," Clark said before taking a bite of his mom's cooking.
"I'll admit I was leery about this doctor having such . . . access to you, but he's definitely been helpful," Martha said, scooting the bowl of mashed potatoes toward him.
"Yes, Bernard is one of a kind. I'm glad the Foundation has turned out the way it has," Clark agreed.
"So this sound man, Lenny Stoke, was murdered?" Jonathon asked after a moment.
"Assassinated more like. I'll be looking further into it when I get back. I have a feeling it involves Intergang, especially considering Church Sr.’s injuries. I called Mayson as Clark last night and suggested that that would be worth investigating, although she was already on it thanks to having seen that gun in action.” Clark shuddered. “I hope Burton can help make that weapon disappear, although that wall of sound gauntlet has some helpful potential, despite its heavy power requirements.”
General Burton Newcomb promised he would do what he could, but due to jurisdictions, it would be a bit more delicate. Hopefully he would still be able to work his magic, especially with his round-about help.
“Well, I’m just glad he was stopped before he could do further harm,” Martha agreed. “And if I ever meet Mayson I’ll need to bake her a pie. Ask her what her favorite flavor is.”
Clark chuckled. “She would want to know why though.”
“I’m a farmer’s wife. I don’t need a reason to give someone a pie,” Martha pointed out.
“Fair enough.”
O o O o O
Clark heard Henderson coming up behind him but didn't turn around as his eyes continued to pass from face to face on the missing persons' and most wanted board.
"Whatcha doing, Kent?" he asked, stopping beside him.
"Memorizing faces and names," Clark said.
"Oh, is that your secret then?" Bill asked, both joking and not.
"Just one of many," Clark answered with a smile, now facing him.
"Uh, huh. Well, I'm glad I caught you. Two things. Those items we discussed a few days ago, they were picked up early this morning. Mayson and I spoke to those involved and we’re in agreement. Thanks for getting us in contact with your inside source.”
Clark relaxed, instantly knowing Bill was referring to the wall-of-sound gauntlet and the much more dangerous sound gun.
“Glad I could help. It’s a huge relief to hear it worked out, let me tell you,” Clark said wholeheartedly.
“Yes,” Henderson agreed.
“And the second thing?” Clark asked.
“Church Sr. is set to be released from the hospital soon,” Bill explained.
“Oh? I hadn’t realized he had woken up. What’s his condition now?”
“Stable and fair. His ear drums are on the mend and he’ll have to take it easy for a bit due to his concussion and the stitches on the back of his head, but he’ll likely make a near full recovery within a month. The doctors are not holding much hope of him retaining all of his hearing though.”
Clark nodded. “Has he said anything about what happened?”
“He said the only thing he can remember is being blindsided by a loud noise before he hit the wall behind him, and then waking up in the hospital.”
“Lenny Stoke."
Bill nodded in agreement.
"Do you believe him?” Clark asked.
“I believe his account of the events, but I think he knows more than he’s saying,” Bill said.
“Indeed. Well, I need to head out and talk to one of my contacts. Thanks for the update,” Clark said.
“No problem.”
Clark made his exit quickly, hearing a rather disturbing sound of distress.
A mother's wail of despair.
Cutting across and disappearing into an alley, he shot across the city to the noise, his eyes peering through walls and material to enable him to better understand what he was about to burst into.
It was an indoor swimming pool, and there were people gathering along one side staring at the bottom of the pool as two people frantically dove up and down, trying to save someone small who appeared trapped near what he concluded was a drain.
He zipped around and into the building, going through the doors instead of breaking through the outer wall, and a split second later was in the water. He gently removed the man who was in his way and placed his hand on the motionless body.
The nine year old girl had a strap tightly around her neck and it had somehow gotten stuck in the drain at the bottom of the pool, refusing to come free. Clark inwardly surmised the child had turned the harmless ribbon into a water toy and the water toy had turned into a death trap.
His laser vision bubbled a straight line through the water and cut the stubborn strap clean, allowing him to scoop the girl up. He shot out of the water, placing her flat on the floor before many people there could comprehend what had just happened.
He looked into her lungs and found that they were still and had water within them. She also had no pulse.
He knelt over her and did several chest compressions, ignoring the concerned onlookers and the water rolling off of him and splashing on the concrete and little body. After three sets of compressions and two rescue breaths, the girl sputtered, choking out the water in broken gasps as he gently turned her to lay in the recovery position.
“Superman! Oh, thank you, thank you so much!” a woman cried, moving forward and hugging the girl the best she could while doing her utmost to verify to herself that her daughter was alive.
“You’re welcome. She will need to go to the hospital to be fully assessed. Shall I take her myself or would you prefer to wait for an ambulance?" he asked kindly.
"Oh, please take her. Which hospital do I drive to?" the woman asked, not wanting to postpone any treatment for her baby.
"Metropolis General," Superman answered before asking, "What's her name?" The girl was understandably too out of it.
"Maggie. Maggie Taylor."
Superman then gently but swiftly took the girl back, holding her close like so many other children he had saved, and disappeared before their eyes.
O o O o O
Lois smiled to herself as she read the side article about a girl being saved from drowning by Superman. It still baffled her how so many people didn't realize how easy it is to drown. It’s hard to recognize a drowning victim’s struggle until it’s too late, even from feet away. Drowning is often silent and meek instead of loud and boisterous.
Well, fortunately this had a happy ending. She had read too many instances of tragedy.
Pulling her mind from such things, she looked at the clock.
Kent should arrive soon. She had finally locked him down and he had agreed to meet her at the Planet that afternoon. She went through her notes again, happy she had the time to get up to speed on recent events. Other than learning what Kent had to say about the Intergang investigation, the only thing she was missing was an update from Bobby Bigmouth. She had spoken to him briefly the day before, and he had suggested something big was happening, but he said he wanted to check a few things before telling her more.
Whatever was happening, he better like the food she got for him: genuine French cheese, Brie de Meaux, that she had purchased in Europe.
She sighed, wondering when Kal-El might stop by her place. She had been home for five days and she had somewhat expected him to contact her by now, especially where it concerned Intergang. Oh well, she shouldn’t be selfish and they had both been very busy. She supposed she could just contact the Foundation and ask for them to forward a message to him directly, but that seemed so. . . .
She looked up and spotted Kent coming toward her desk.
“Mr. Kent, right on time. Let’s go to the conference room,” she said, standing up. “How are you?”
“Good, good. You?” he replied, following her into the conference room. He closed the door behind him.
“Glad to be back. You can put your things on the table next to my notes,” she said amiably as she sat down and motioned him to sit beside her. “My Uncle Mike told me what you did for him, saving him from those thugs wanting to burn down his restaurant. Thanks,” she said as he sat down.
“Oh, you’re welcome. I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time,” he said, taken aback by her sincerity.
“Mike has helped me a lot, Mr. Kent,” she said, feeling for some reason she should explain why she was so grateful. “I suppose you could say he’s a surrogate dad to me.”
“Then I’m very glad I was able to help him,” Kent said. “And you can call me Clark.”
Lois smiled. “Then it’s ‘Lois’ to you,” she returned before getting serious. “So, I imagine we should get straight into things since your schedule is likely as crazy as mine.”
“Yes,” he said with a chuckle, appearing both surprised and pleased as he handed her a folder. “Here are some of the police statements on recent arrests made who are likely linked to Intergang. There’s also a separate document.”
She opened it up and looked at the first sheet. “Sound Gang?” She frowned. “Didn’t their leader just get killed in the hospital?”
“Yup.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, intrigued. “I knew there was something more with that,” she said, scanning the next page before skimming through the rest. He let her read. Her frown deepened as she spotted a ‘classified’ stamp on the top corner of the last page. “This isn’t a police report.”
“No. It’s not,” Kent stated.
“A sound weapon? Cellular damage?” she mumbled, her eyes growing wide as it gave a brief description on the damage it could do. “Why are you showing me this?” she breathed.
“Stoke used it against Superman. From the police department, only four officers, Henderson, and Mayson know, and they're keeping it a secret, even from the government.”
“Oh my-- is he alright?” Lois asked, before putting it together. “That’s why he took those days off.”
Kent nodded. “He’s fine now, but it definitely messed him up for a time,” he admitted.
“How do you fit into this?” Lois asked, but continued before he could answer. “You’re former military. You must know someone in the government who helped make these things disappear. That’s how you know what happened and how you have a copy of this document.”
Kent gave a short nod in admittance, but he suddenly seemed almost hesitant.
“There’s a little more to it, which I--” he began, only to be cut off by her pager going off.
Apologetically, she took her pager and looked at it.
“Oh!”
It was Bobby Bigmouth, and he was paging a 911, something he never did. He wanted to meet with her NOW.
“I’m so sorry, I’ve got to go! I just got a 911 from an informant,” she said quickly, standing up and grabbing her purse.
“Do they need help?” Clark asked, standing up as well. “Should I come with you?”
“No, no. I just need to get to him asap. And you can’t come with me, sorry. He won’t talk if he sees someone he doesn’t know,” she said, quickly gathering her things.
“Alright, I understand. Some of my contacts are finicky too,” he said. And he really looked as if he understood as he took the ‘classified’ stamped sheet while leaving the rest of the folder’s contents for her to read through later.
“But call me later,” she said as they both stepped from the room in what she would describe as a whirlwind.
“Of course,” he said.
“Again, I’m so sorry!” she said before quickly dashing out of the newsroom.
O o O o O
Clark sighed to himself. Well, it was bound to happen to him eventually -- someone running out on him instead of him running out on them. He only wished it had been at a different moment. He had been so close! He had wanted to tell her today. Invite her over to his place and go from there.
He combed his fingers through his hair.
Maybe it’s better he didn’t tell her just yet, but. . . .
He didn’t want to dance around her, and she seemed to get along well with all sides of him. It wouldn't be fair to keep this secret from her, not when she had done so much for him. Besides, how would she feel if he kept it from her long after she really got to know Clark? Wouldn't she feel hurt, betrayed even? She already knew Kal-El grew up on Earth, she just didn't know the full extent of it. Her learning that he grew up as Clark Kent and was in fact Clark Kent wouldn't really be that hard of a step, especially considering his occupation and history. But how should he tell her?
Nodding to himself, he decided to try to invite her to his place the next time he saw her. Hopefully then he would be able to tell her.
Walking out of the Daily Planet, he decided to follow Lois from above, just in case. He didn’t feel like her contact sent a 911 page that often, not with the way her heart rate had spiked upon recognizing the author of the page.
He followed her for a few minutes, hidden in the clouds, until she went to a secluded section of a park where a thin man in a leather jacket stood. The typical wise-guy look.
Peering down, he focused on the scene and zeroed in on their conversation.
“Lois, French cheese? It better not be the stinky kind,” he complained.
“I got the ones highly recommended, Bobby,” Lois retorted. “Now tell me what you wanted to tell me. You sent a 911 page. You never do that.”
“Right, right. Sorry, the shock of the cheese, you understand. Anyway, Intergang. Something huge is happening. They’re fighting. There’s internal fighting. The leadership is in upheaval and the orders coming down the chain are very very different from a few months ago,” he explained after looking around to make sure they weren’t being watched.
“Okay. Do you know who’s fighting exactly?” Lois asked.
“The Churches. Church Senior and Church Junior is the rumor,” he said.
“The son?” Lois asked, intrigued.
Bobby nodded.
“How bad is the fighting?” Lois asked.
“I expect bodies to be found in Hobb’s Bay soon,” Bobby stated bluntly.
"Any info on why they're fighting?" she asked.
"Conflicting goals. If I had to guess from the rumors, it sounds like Senior has gotten tired of crime and wants to be more legitimate."
"And Junior wants to maintain the status quo," Lois whispered.
"Something like that."
"Okay, but why the 911? This info isn't all that earth shattering," Lois complained. "Important, yes, but not too surprising considering other things you've shared with me."
"Yes, well," he said, looking a little uneasy. "Word is that Senior doesn't need to worry about Big Blue."
Lois raised an eyebrow. "Superman? You mean he's been paid off?"
"Apparently," he said, carefully prying the corner of the cheese package open.
Lois started laughing. "Oh, Bobby. I appreciate your concern, but believe me, Superman hasn't been bought. He's merely biding his time and influencing things behind the scenes. I mean, listen to what you just told me. Senior moving away from crime? My instincts also tell me Junior was behind the Sound Gang, it'd explain Senior's hospital stay too."
Bobby sagged in relief and took a sniff of the exposed cheese. "Well, I suppose you would know. I'll admit, that's a relief. Almost as much of a relief to learn this is not the stinky cheese."
"I get it," Lois agreed, ignoring his food commentary. "Just imagining a Superman without morals is frightening. But fortunately Superman holds himself to high moral standards."
Bobby nodded and the conversation soon became less serious. Seeing there was nothing else, Clark pulled back from the clouds.
He needed to update Mayson and Henderson, as well as discuss current options. The current situation was very delicate and they needed to approach it with care.
O o O o O
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