Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Forgotten - Chapter 10

I'm sorry I'm some hours late in posting this chapter, but I've had a very busy day.

Chapter Ten

The Day That The Rains Came Down

Letour set his cutlery down on his plate and sat back in his chair. “Thanks, Marje. That was....”

“Interesting,” MacDonnell suggested, helpfully. “I think that might be the word ye're looking fer. I dinn'ae like tae see ye struggling, laddie, between ye're fine manners and not wanting to blot ye're copy-book with a downright lie,” he added with a surreptitious wink. “I probably should hae told ye that Marje was doin' the cooking tonight since Li-ying's off visiting her latest grandchild.”

Marje lifted her napkin and swatted her husband across the table. “Mind what your saying, Mac, or you could be going hungry for the next few days. I gave Li-ying some time off. Her daughter isn't too well since the birth and Li-ying's staying down in the village to look after the baby and her son-in-law.” The Scots woman's brogue wasn't nearly so pronounced as her husband's; a difference Marje had explained away by suggesting she came from a place called Inverness where they spoke the queen's English and not Mac's rough Scots.

Letour, however, wasn't distressed by the MacDonnell's oral sparring; instead he stifled a grin. They often bickered, but he'd very soon realized that they thought the world of each other. Sharing a commitment to environmental conservation and caring for the local people had forged a bond between Mac and Marje. Their work might not always have been easy and they'd fought many a battle against greed and ignorance, yet adversity had only strengthened their union.

Somehow, Letour found himself at ease in the couple's company, which was an unusual occurrence for him. He might have put down some tentative roots in this neighborhood, and actually believed his work was contributing to the greater good, but he still felt strangely alien.

“OK, woman, dinn'ae fash yersel'! I'm sure my stomach can stand the strain fer a day or two, and, since ye did the cooking, I suppose it's up tae Letour and me tae dae the washing up. Come on, laddie, let's mak ourselves useful.”

Mac pushed himself up from the table and began collecting the dishes while Letour quickly copied him.

“You two don't have to do that. Letour is a guest,” Marje objected, also standing. “Go get on with your chess game. You know you want to.”

“The chess can wait for a bit, Marje. Why don't you sit down and relax,” Letour suggested. “I really don't mind helping out....”

“Aye, and the laddie isn'ae a guest. He's part of the family.” Mac mentioned casually, balancing a stack of plates rather precariously in his hands, while Letour held his breath, waiting for them to fall. “Dinn'ae argue now, Marje. I'm sure ye can find something tae dae meanwhile.”

Clearly, Marje shared Letour's fears for her best china, her single remaining wedding present from back home, but decided it was better to let Mac get on with the job instead of wasting time arguing. She did, however, send Letour a pleading glance and was relieved as he took some of the dishes from her husband. Letour could always be relied on to lend a hand.

“That's true,” she admitted to Mac, while smiling on the saviour of her dinner-set. “I do have some work to be doing online. The people back home need to know the problems we're having with the logging company and the local governing committee. The loggers are skating very close to the edge of their quotas and the Party Leader is refusing to confront them.”

“Aye, the wee bugger is too scared of the company's bully-boys; either that or he's gettin' his palm greased,” Mac called over his shoulder as he made his way into the kitchen, fully laden, having picked up more dishes to replace the ones Letour had removed.

“Probably a bit of both,” Marje concurred, booting up her computer with its wireless connection to the Internet, one of the few pieces of high-technology in the centre, even if the system was a comparatively older model. Their on-site laboratory was cobbled together with second-hand goods. As she waited for her computer to connect, she called out, “Anyway, if I alert Edinburgh and Beijing maybe they'll put a flea in his ear and we can put a stop to those parasites deforesting the whole mountainside.”

“They'll have to hurry, Marje,” Letour stated, standing in the doorway with a dishtowel in his hand. “I drove up there this afternoon and the loggers have started on the trees along the ridge above the village. I thought that was out of bounds.”

“Aye, that it is!” Mac called from the kitchen, plunging his hands into a sink brimming over with soapy foam. Perhaps he'd been a mite generous with the soap? “And ye went drivin' in this weather? Ye're a brave man, Letour, but my Genevieve didn'ae let ye down, did she?”

“Not at all, Mac.” Letour smiled at Mac's devotion to his jeep. You could almost think Mac admired the vehicle more than he did his wife, but in reality he loved both in equal measure. That thought made Letour grin broadly. Mac was a strange mix of personalities, but there was no doubt his heart was in the right place and that was what was important... and he had the ability to make Letour laugh, something Letour did too rarely. He walked into the kitchen to begin his task of drying up. “I chose today because I thought the loggers might have abandoned their work in this wet weather and I might have a better chance to look around, but they're still up there.”

“They're cutting trees doon in the rain?” Mac's hands stilled in the hot water. “Using that machinery in a' this rain has got tae be a dangerous job.” The heat on his skin broke through his distraction and he drew his hands back quickly. “Damn, damn, damn!” He blew on his stinging fingers, then ran some more cold water into the bowl causing the suds to slosh over the edge. “I dinn'ae blame the poor workers, mind ye. It's them greedy swines in the suits wha're exploiting poverty that I'd like tae strangle, metaphorically speakin', ye understand.”

“They weren't using the biggest machinery, but they were still working, trimming and stacking the logs for transport,” Letour explained, dabbing at the excess water on the floor with a cloth. Poor Marje would probably have more work to do cleaning up the kitchen after Mac's efforts to help. “I was concerned to see the men working in the downpour, too, but obviously the company felt its profits shouldn't be affected by a little adverse weather.” But that was the trouble -- it wasn't just a little rain. It had been coming down in torrents for days.

“Adverse weather!” Mac repeated on a snort. “Aye, the company wuid see it that way. It disn'ae believe in down time, and they wuidn'a pay wages for wet weather either. What we need here is a strong Union, like in the guid auld days of the Clyde shipyards. These shop-stewards would hae been a match for the Jilin Logging Company.” Mac spat out the title like he was getting rid of a sour taste in his mouth. “Chinese mafia is whit they really are!”

“Yeah, but unfortunately they are legal.” Finished with the mopping up, Letour polished the dishes dry as Mac continued to place them on the drying board. “We've got to prove their breaking agreements, which is why I thought I'd do some sneaking around.” Actually, he hadn't managed to do too much sneaking, but oddly enough he'd felt quite comfortable while doing so.

“Fancy yersel' as a bit of a private-eye, Letour?” Mac grinned broadly, finally finishing his imposed task and letting the water drain away. “I'm no complainin', mind ye. Ye find anything we can use tae close the buggers down and I'll be forever in yer debt.”

“I want to put a stop to what they're doing too, Mac. The world needs these forests and I don't like seeing the locals taken advantage off.” Letour might have forgotten the details, but he suspected he'd always been passionately concerned with the world and its problems. He just wished he knew what sort of role he'd played before these last few years. “Where do these dishes go, Mac?” he asked, changing the subject to more practical matters.

A voice drifted in from the living room. “If you've finished washing up, just leave them and I'll clear away later. Leave it up to Mac and I'll never be able to find anything again.” Letour could hear laughter in Marje's voice. “Come back in here both of you and look at this, will you? That new superhero is in the news again.”

The two men made their way over to Marje's desk and read the computer screen over her shoulder. She'd opened the homepage of The Scotsman's online newspaper where the main story covered Jor-El's latest super feat.

“That laddie has been affy busy since he arrived on the scene,” Mac remarked, while his wife scrolled down the article.

“He has that, and a group of Chinese college students are certainly happy that he's around,” Marje agreed and launched on a shortened version of the current achievement. “Their plane got into difficulties on their flight to Australia, but Jor-El arrived in time to save the day and landed the plane in Melbourne. It's a fine job he's chosen to do. Everyone thinks so.” Marje clicked through a number of foreign media sites, stopping on The Daily Planet page where a large picture of the black-clad hero graced the front page.

“Isn'ae he supposed tae be Superman's son?” Mac asked, leaning forward to study the screen closely. “Aye, I 'd say there's a family resemblance.”

Marje twisted in her seat to regard her husband. “Come on, Mac! How would you know? Half his face is covered.”

“But no all of it! Just tae below his eyes.” Mac remonstrated with his partner, sounding a little hurt. He stretched his arm out and touched the image of Jor-El. “The laddie's got his father's chin... and his mouth, maybe. Can ye no see that, lass?”

“Perhaps, a bit,” Marje admitted. “It's a bit difficult with these action shots. What do you think, Letour?”

There was a few seconds of silence, while Letour stared transfixed at the computer, his mind blanking out.

“Letour?” Marje asked again, touching his arm lightly.

She was surprised to see him looking so pale. Once Letour had settled down at the centre and got some meat on his bones, his skin tone had taken on a slightly exotic bronze, cementing the supposition that he might have some Eurasian blood in his genealogy. Hopefully, he wasn't coming down with some flu virus, having spent most of the day out in the inclement weather. Marje often fretted about the younger man's health since Mac had brought him back home, looking like a stray waif.

“Are you OK?” She tugged on his arm a little more urgently.

Letour roused himself with some effort. What was wrong that a mere picture on a screen should have such an effect on him? What was more, he couldn't exactly pinpoint what kind of effect. His glance passed between Marje and Mac. Apparently, they were waiting for an answer, but what had been the question? Oh yeah... about Jor-El and Superman.

“Um, I don't really know. I'm not sure what Superman looked like....”

“Ye never saw Superman?” Mac directed a narrow look at Letour and asked, sounding flabbergasted. “That's kinda hard tae believe, lad. Ye're an American, and Superman made his home in Metropolis -- one of the US's most important cities. Ye think ye'd hae run intae him sometime or other.”

“Come on, Mac, why would I ever see Superman?” Letour experienced a weird need to defend himself... but from what? “America is a big place and it's not like I'm going to bump into him walking down the street. From what I've heard, Superman was based in Metropolis and I have no idea where in the States I came from. Chances are I lived somewhere totally different... like Illinois or Kansas. In fact, if you hadn't told me, I wouldn't even know I was an American.”

Mac was nodding his head wisely. “That's probably it. Ye've forgotten about Superman along with a'thing else. But tak a look at the photo of the boy. It'll maybe jog that memory of yers.”

Another look! Letour didn't want to look, but could see no suitable excuse to give to Mac, who obviously thought he was doing his friend a good turn. Glancing reluctantly at the computer again, he found himself drawn to the picture. He saw an image of a young man -- he felt more than registered that the hero was young -- dressed in a black skintight suit with a cape. A masked figure, who would be difficult to identify, but he suspected that was the whole idea of the mask. The boy probably had another identity.

Now, why would he think that, and why would be feel compelled not to mention that to his friends?

His eyes were attracted to the blue metallic shield on the front of the suit. It looked suspiciously like a stylized 'S'. Did that stand for Superman? After all, he'd read a few of the media articles and this Jor-El did claim to be Superman's son, so it was possible... only, Letour wasn't so sure.

But what did he know about the lineage of superheros? A distinct throbbing was beginning in his temples and his throat felt constricted. He hoped he wasn't coming down with something. He'd gotten really soaked today up at the logging camp. Most of all, he just wanted to stop staring at the screen which had developed an annoying strobe effect. Only he was pretty sure Mac wasn't ready to abandon this subject. The man was like a dog with a bone when it came to attempting to jog Letour's missing memory.

He tore his eyes away from the computer and addressed Mac, trying to turn the tables on the older man. “Actually, I'm surprised you know so much about Superman. I wouldn't have thought the Chinese press would have covered the superhero's exploits -- not a few years ago anyway.”

“No, at first, maybe, but they wrote up the puir man's disappearance.” Mac grunted, hunching his shoulders and appearing genuinely upset by this fact.

“Yes, they did, and they joined in the mass tributes.” Marje added, somewhat cynically. “Though I think that might have been to cover their own backs. Superman disappeared close to their borders and they were trying to avoid the finger being pointed at them.”

The conversation swinging round to Superman's demise wasn't helping Letour's state of health at all. The throbbing inside his head was threatening to upgrade into a full scale pounding, while he wiped his sweaty palms agitatedly on his pant's leg. He might be unwilling to deepen Mac's suspicions, but he was almost on the brink of excusing himself and running off to his lair.

Yet, Mac wasn't insensitive. He was aware that Letour suffered physically when trying to remember his past. In the early days, Mac had suggested a couple of times that Letour should contact the US Embassy in hope that the staff could uncover the missing identity, but the confusion and very real terror he'd witnessed on Letour's face at the mention of such an investigation forced Mac to drop the idea. It was obvious that Letour was ready to bolt at the merest sign any official might be interested in his presence in China.

Now, seeing his friend becoming similarly distressed by the talk about the Kryptonians, Mac's radar went on high alert. The laddie had that haunted look about him again, and Mac couldn't help but wonder what was the connection. However, he had no intention of forcing the issue just to satisfy his own curiosity, so he backed off.

“Ah well, we're never gonna know whit happened to Superman, and who the young lad looks like is nane o' ma business. He's doin' a guid job of taking care of people in trouble and that's aw that counts. I just hope he's more appreciated than wis his father.” With those final words, Mac walked away from the computer and, finding his chess-set, began setting it up by the fire. “Come ower here tae the heat, man.” He gestured to Letour. “This constant dreich weather gets inside a body's bones. Ye dinn'ae look too well, right now, if ye dinn'ae mind me sayin'. Are ye sure ye're up tae a game?”

Relieved that he'd been let off the hook, Letour smiled and made his way to the fire, while Marje continued tapping away at the keyboard behind him. She did have work to do if she wanted to recruit the authorities into halting the destructive over-cutting of the ancient forests.

“This rain is starting to get on everyone's nerves, I think,” Letour stated, his gaze drawn to the ceiling by the constant drone of raindrops, keening like a lament on the tin roof. “Has it ever been as bad as this before?”

“No since I've been here, though I have heard the aulder fisherman bletherin' about mountainsides slidin' intae the loch and creating massive waves... sorta a doomsday scenario, if ye get ma drift. Mind ye, I'm no one tae take no heed of sic stories. There's usually some truth in a' these tales.”

Letour settled himself in a chair, his rear sliding easily into the well-worn cushions. He pulled the seat up to the small table with the chess board sitting on top, smiling to himself as he realized Mac had positioned the table so he would get the main benefit from the wood-burning fire. As he stretched his hands out to place the chess pieces on their squares, he was pleased to note his fingers merely trembled. His panic was over, thank goodness, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Mac had poured out a couple of glasses of his best whiskey and he placed one on the table near Letour. “Here, get that inside ye and it'll warm ye up. Best medicine in the world, this is.”

Taking his own advice, Mac took a long sip of the amber liquid then sat down opposite Letour. For quite a time the only sound in the room was the soft pat of Marje's fingers flying across the keypad, while the two men locked horns over the chessboard, concentrating on taking advantage of the other's first wrong move. Mac had been his university's star chess player, though he had to admit that when his current opponent was on song, he was totally outclassed. Sometimes it seemed as if Letour could see through every one of his strategies. Mac believed that Letour might have made a world-class Master, if he could only apply himself, but the thing was, the laddie didn't have the killer instinct.

Clearly, Letour had other things on his mind tonight, as Mac moved his queen, building towards his declaration of 'checkmate'. Letour wasted little time and moved his piece without giving the game much thought. Mac edged forward in his seat and studied the pieces, smiling inwardly with glee. This was going to be one of the few nights when he tasted victory.

Then, suddenly, with a reverberating crash that echoed round the ring of mountains, the world seemed to collapse. Seconds later, a shock wave hit the house, causing the wooden timbers to shudder on its foundations.

“Oh, beejeezus, whit the hell was that?” Mac clung to his chair as it threatened to over-balance, though whether because the room was shaking or as a result of his own stupor, he couldn't quite tell. “An earthquake?” Mac asked of the man sitting opposite him. Only Letour was no longer there.

“Not an earthquake, I think.” Letour spoke as he opened the French windows leading onto the wooden porch and stepped outside.

How had the laddie moved so fast? Mac had been staring straight ahead of himself. Mind you, he might have blinked. Yes, he'd definitely blinked... maybe even once or twice.

A movement across the room drew his attention away from the question of Letour's speed and to Mac's dismay he saw Marje on the floor, tangled up in the spars of her wooden seat and with her computer balancing precariously on the edge of the desk above her. “Marje, lass, I'm comin'!”

But before he could reach his wife, Letour was helping her up. Now there, the lad had done it again! Had Mac bumped his head and was suffering from concussion? Was the world really speeding by, or had time stood still? Certainly something very weird was happening outside. The rumbling had stopped momentarily, then almost like an approaching roar of a herd of stampeding elephants, it began again, growing louder with each minute.

Both Mac and Letour dusted Marje down and, once they'd established that she was indeed unhurt, all three headed outside. In the darkness it was difficult to make out exactly what had occurred, but Mac found himself concurring with Letour's take on the earthquake. The house and surrounding grounds appeared to have stabilized, though he could feel a trembling deep within the earth, almost like ripples in the water when a stone broke the surface... and the noise was reaching mammoth decibels.

“Look!” Letour stretched his hand out towards the general direction of the lake's shore. “My god, the whole ridge is on the move!”

The two people standing by him stared out into the darkness, straining to follow his direction, trying to see what he was meaning, but apart from hearing a noise like rolling thunder, neither could see what was happening.

“The village by the lake, look! Don't you see it?”

Letour began moving towards the few steps on the stoop, but Marje had taken hold of his arm. She'd suddenly grasped his meaning.

“Oh, dear god!” she whispered, as one by one the house lights began to blink out... slowly at first, but with ever increasing speed until it seemed a giant hand had distractedly snuffed out hundreds of candles.

Then, eerily, a break in the clouds partially uncovered the moon and silvered-edged light illuminated a ghostly scene, displaying to the watchers the horror which nature had wrought. Only, in this case, mother nature had been abetted by the greed of man. A few miles away, the hillside, sodden with days of never-ending rain and devoid of trees, was sliding, tumbling, rushing, without heed of what stood in its path, into the depths of the lake below.

“Them puir souls! Aw, them unfortunate wee souls!” Mac cried, tears springing to his eyes. He knew most of the people who lived in that village; considered most of them his friends.

“I've got to go help out,” Letour stated baldly, disentangling his arm from Marje's stiff fingers. Deep inside his being stirred an overwhelming need to save....

“Aye, ye dae. We both dae. But just whit are ye thinkin' of? Runnin' down there?” From the arrested expression on Letour's face, Mac thought that might have been the laddie's intention. “The village is seven miles awa'. We'll be quicker if we tak Genevieve. Besides, we'll need shovels and things. Anything that will help us dig!” For a second Mac turned his attention to Marje, who was still staring off into the distance. “Marje, snap out o' it, lass! Get on the radio or the Internet -- any way ye can reach help, and tell them tae damn well git here as soon as they can. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“And you'd be right!” Marje's face appeared blanched and haggard in the shifting moonlight, but it was the dread in her voice that stopped her husband. “Mac, the logging camp round the bay. There are no lights... nothing... not any sign of life.”

Over time, a small, lively township had grown up round the camp. Apart from some desperate locals who'd signed on the payroll, the loggers were mostly outsiders and many had brought their families to live in the area, as had those who supplied the workers with the necessities of life. People from all trades had converged on the sprawling compound -- from the store-keepers to the medics who manned the ill-equipped clinic the logging company had been obliged to set up. At this time in the evening, the town was normally a thriving little metropolis, now it appeared to have been wiped from the map.

“Dear, lord, ye're right. This isn'ae just any landslide. I'd say the 'hale mountainside has come down. I warned them they were over-cuttin' but wuid they listen? No! But they didn'ae deserve this, puir buggers. Besides, aw the Chiefs sit safe in their swankie offices in Chanchung while the Indians are in the thick o' it,” Mac growled out his words of disapproval, then his voice softened. “Marje, love, better get goin'. There's no time tae waste.” As Mac passed Letour on his way to the old barn where Genevieve was housed, he tapped the bemused man's shoulder. “Come on, Letour, we have work tae get done. These puir folks need us!”

At the Scotsman's words, Letour shuddered. From almost throwing himself down the track towards the shore road, he'd become frozen to the spot. He actually had believed he could go to the villagers' aid under his own steam, which was totally crazy. Using the jeep would be far quicker and they could carry more equipment that way. Yet the vehicle might get bogged down in the mud. Everything appeared to be fairly normal up here, but they had no idea what they'd find closer to the village.

“Mac, we still might have to abandon Genevieve if the road's washed out further down the track,” Letour mentioned as he, too, reached the large wooden shack and started loading up the back of the jeep with the tools Mac was pulling out of the dim interior.

“Aye, lad, that thought had occurred tae me, but it'll be quicker if we can use her fer as far as we can. Speed is whit we need here, and we might pick up a few mair volunteers tae help us along the way.” Satisfied that he'd stripped their resources bare of any rescue equipment, Mac made his way to the jeep, throwing the keys to Letour. “Ye drive. Ye can handle her better than I can.” At his words, he rubbed the metal of his much loved jeep in apology for abandoning her to another driver, then opened the passenger door.

But just before the men climbed into the vehicle, Marje emerged from the house wearing an enveloping waterproof poncho. For a very few moments before the disaster, the deluge had eased, but now the rain had begun again and the gusting winds were increasing.

She raised her voice to shout to her men folk above the tumultuous noise. “Hold on a minute.” She scurried down the slope, slipping and sliding in the hostile conditions, to where they waited and handed each a rain mac. “Here put these on; you're going to need them. I've managed to reach the emergency services on the radio and help is on the way. They're sending in rescue teams from the army and the airforce. Only with this gale getting up, they doubt they can get the helicopters off the ground, which means they have to come by road, and that will take more time, especially since they don't know what sort of state the roads are in. They told me to man the radio and let them know any updates, but they want you to co-ordinate a local rescue team, Mac.”

“I thought they micht.” Mac nodded as he spoke, while he struggled into his waterproofs. “Let's just hope there's enough able-bodied people left.”

“We can look out for them on the way down to the lake,” Letour suggested anxiously, now dressed for the weather and climbing into the driver's seat. “We should get going, Mac.”

“Aye, Aye. With ye as my righthand man, Letour, I winn'ae go far wrong. Tell them we'll dae the best we can, Marje. We'll keep in touch with ye by the radio and ye can pass on the ETA of those rescue teams the minute ye ken it.” The radios were a fairly new acquisition for the centre and, though not exactly as high-tech as cellphones, they were a welcome bonus for the biologists and their team. The radios would certainly come in very useful in these circumstances. Mac hoisted himself into the jeep. “I just hope the rescuers can make it here as soon as maybe. There's mony a life that'll depend on their speedy arrival, ye can be sure.”

Before Mac closed the door, he took a fleeting moment to pull Marje closer and planted a kiss on her lips, leaving her stunned. Mac wasn't the most demonstrative husband in the world, so it was a measure of his emotional state of mind that he'd given her a hug.

“Get on with you, you big lummox,” she said derisively, yet she couldn't resist leaning into him for a second or two to give and take comfort. Then she swung Genevieve's door shut and stood back, swiping at her cheeks which were wet with rain and the tears she could no longer staunch. “Mac, I know it's going to be a mess, but try to find Li-Ying and her family. I'm worried sick about them. That little boy is just a few days old....” A wrenching sob cut off her words as she moved a step or two back to give the vehicle room to manoeuvre. “Good luck, and be careful, both of you,” she cried, but a strong gust of wind took her words away and she wasn't sure if they'd heard her wishes.

Letour started the jeep and with a sucking squelch of tires in mud, Genevieve roared off down the hill. The mention of Li-Ying had struck dread in Mac's and Letour's hearts. The housekeeper's son-in-law was a fisherman and lived very close to the lake. What chance would the family's flimsily built home have against the tremendous mass of a mudslide... what chance had any of the houses? Both men were dreading what they'd find when they reached the village, yet neither thought to be anywhere else. Many of these people were their workmates, and more importantly... their friends.

*****

Lois Lane Kent waited for the elevator doors to open then crossed the newsroom with a determined step and a frown on her face, hoping to discourage any approaches from her staff. She'd just spent most of the morning in her monthly meeting with the 'bean-counters' and, as always, came away feeling frustrated that the real work of gathering news came secondary to generating funds for the share-holders. Now she knew exactly why Perry had so hated attending these 'lectures' and why he'd readily delegated the job to his co-editor. She'd have a few words to say to Perry, the moment he returned from his sick leave.

Distracted by her annoyance, Lois entered her office and was closing her door before she realized someone was waiting for her. By the way her visitor was pacing, it appeared he was also suffering stress.

“OK, Jimmy, what's wrong now? Why don't you sit down and let it all out,” she suggested with a resigned sigh. In her experience, bad news was best heard immediately -- a little like pulling off a band aid in one quick, decisive motion. It didn't really lessen the pain, it just seemed that way.

Jimmy's head snapped up. Her arrival had taken him by surprise and he looked like he'd rather be someplace else. “I'm sorry, Lois. I know you're gonna be mad, but believe me, I would have tried to stop him, if he'd given me the chance.”

“Stopped who?” Lois demanded, sharply, but when he stared at her as if he was in danger of being torn limb from limb, she softened her tone. “Is this a work thing, Jimmy?”

James Olsen shook his head. Why did he have to be the one to pass on the message?

“James, you're beginning to frighten me. What's wrong? Has something happened to Perry?” Their Chief was in the hospital having undergone hip replacement surgery, but Lois had visited him yesterday afternoon and the procedure had gone well. Perry had looked good, but any surgery was dangerous for more elderly patients and a day could make a difference.

“No, not Perry. He's fine... says he'll be back here just as soon as he's on his feet. And nothing is exactly wrong. At least, I don't think so.”

“Jimmy!” Lois was now exasperated.

“OK, just let it out! I know.” Jimmy absentmindedly rifled through the files in Lois' in-tray. “I got this message from Matt on my cellphone this morning. It seems he's gone overseas.”

“What? Where has he gone?”

“I'd assume China. Haven't you heard? It's been on the news all morning. There's been this terrible disaster. This gigantic mudslide that's engulfed some villages and killed most of the inhabitants....”

“You only assume? Didn't he tell you?” Lois asked, her breath quickening.

“No! I didn't speak to him. I told you he messaged me. I was in a meeting with a source and the guy was kinda spooked about whistle-blowing, so I didn't want to interrupt by accepting a message. But to be honest, Matt didn't give me the chance. I think he knew I'd try to talk him out of it, and he sure wasn't waiting around for any arguments.”

Lois crossed to her desk and sank down into her chair. What was Matt thinking of... and why hadn't he spoken with her? Unless.... She clicked on her own phone and watched her messages scroll across the small screen. There had been a few while she'd been out, but mostly work-related and certainly not one from her son.

“Matt, what are you playing at?” she said under her breath, then addressed Jimmy, who was clearly waiting for the storm to break over his head. Yet Jimmy wasn't to blame. “I'm sure you're right. It's probably the reason he chose not to talk to me, though I do put a block on my phone when I'm meeting with the accountants, except for family emergencies, of course. But hey, my son probably thinks a trip to China is just a walk in the park.”

Lois leaned her elbows on her desk and dropped her head into her hands and for a few seconds there was silence. “And it's a Friday!” Lois looked up as she spoke. “He knows how I feel about rescues on school days. Has Matthew decided to throw the rule book away?”

“He did mention that... about Fridays, I mean. Lois, he said to tell you he was sorry, but he heard about the disaster on his way to school. I guess he decided that trying to save a few thousand lives was worth playing hooky for. You know his education won't suffer much for missing one day of school, Lois, and he has the rest of the weekend before he's due back.”

“I guess so.” Lois smoothed her hair back behind her ear, fretfully. “My worry is that this is just the first time. You know, these disasters don't happen to suit my son's school schedule. How soon before he's taking time off to fly to catastrophes on a regular basis?”

“I got the impression he's not intending to do that. He told me he felt this one was special... though don't ask me why, because he didn't clarify. This was just a voice message you know, not a conversation.”

Again, Lois reached for her phone. “I'm not endorsing what Matt did, and he's going to hear what I think about this stunt of his whenever he gets back, but I suppose I better give some excuse to the school for his absence.”

“No need, Lois. I already did that... right after I got Matt's message. I didn't want him getting in trouble with the Principal. He might have broken the rules, but you've got to admit the kid's got guts. I'm sorry if you think I overstepped the mark, though.”

Relaxing a little, Lois let her hand rest on her desktop and grinned ruefully at her friend. “Jimmy, you know you're part of the family. What mark could you possibly step across? The school needed to be told something. By the way, is Matt off returning a library book, though with electronic reading, that excuse is a little old... or was it a video?”

Jimmy laughed along with Lois. “Videos! Oh, man, those were the days. CK's excuses were pretty cheesy back then. I can't believe that I swallowed them hook, line and sinker. God knows what he'd come up with now....”

Their laughter died, halted again by memories of Clark. “Jimmy, I know I have to let Matt grow up, but it's hard... really hard. How do I stop being afraid for him?”

“Sore throat. I told the school secretary that Matt had some sort of virus.” Jimmy evaded Lois' last question and crossed to the armchair in front of her desk, dropping into its comforting embrace. How often had he sat in this chair during an emotional crisis... though there was nothing to suggest that this particular occasion was one of those. Not yet anyway. “I don't think you'll ever stop worrying. But, Lois, I'm pretty certain Matt will be fine. Jilin Province is even a tourist destination these days and the worldwide media has already hot-footed it over there, not to mention global rescue services....”

“Jimmy, that's exactly what we thought when Clark went to North Korea... well, not the touristy bit. Yet, it didn't help him any, did it?” Lois' tone was harsh, but Jimmy looked more concerned than upset.

“China isn't Korea, Lois. Time has moved on too; even North Korea is changing.” He sat forward in his seat, hoping to convey comfort to Lois, but he couldn't resist wringing his hands together. “And Matt isn't naïve. He'll be careful. Besides, he's in communication with Bernie....”

“You've spoken to Bernie?”

“It was the first thing I did, after calling the school. Bernie's tracking him. According to the tracker, Matt arrived on the scene a short time ago and Bernie told me he'd keep you informed of any updates.”

But Lois wasn't prepared to wait and she quickly picked up the phone and speed-dialed Star Labs. A few seconds later she was asking into the mouthpiece. “Bernard, where is he and can you patch him through to me?”

The nervous scientist had been expecting this call and not exactly with pleasure. “Hi, Lois, how are you?” Yet from the groan which echoed from his phone, Bernie realized that his caller wasn't prepared for small talk. His voice dropped to an anxious whisper. “Oh, don't answer that. Of course you're upset. Lois, I have some people with me just now, important people, so perhaps we could talk later.”

“Bernard! Don't you dare hang up on me.”

“No, of course not. I wouldn't dream of it. But I really can't say too much at this time.” The poor man was almost strangling on his words. “Everything is fine with... well with who you're worried about. But I haven't actually spoken with him lately....”

“How lately is lately? Within the past ten minutes say?”

“No, I spoke to him when he first left... when he was en-route, probably. He checked in to let me know where he was going and to make sure the contact system was operational. Oh, and he wanted information about the geology of the area and the effects of such a landslide. I ran a simulation on my computer and passed on the results, but I told him what I'm telling you. The Board of Directors are inspecting our premises today and are here with me now. They've gone into my main lab for a moment, so I only have a few minutes to talk. I wouldn't want them to find out too much about my extra-curricural activities involving the new superhero. They know I provide him with medical help, but we really don't want them looking too deeply into the connection.”

Lois knew well that Dr Klein was never good under pressure and decided to cut him some slack. “I understand, Bernie, and I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I am worried.”

“Yes, of course you are, but the tracking device is in order and Jor-el has reached his destination safely. I'll get back to you as soon as I can, but Lois, if Jor-El is too busy to chat, I can't force him to acknowledge my messages.”

“I know.” Lois shook her head sadly. Matt was just too stubborn at times, and she wasn't quite sure which parent he got that from. Both she and Clark could be headstrong when they believed passionately in a cause, so it was hardly surprising their son had inherited the trait. “And Bernie, I don't blame you at all. There wasn't a thing anyone could have said to stop Matt going to China. Not you, not Jimmy and not even me... if he had given me the chance.”

“Lois, I agree with you. That boy of yours is very single-minded when it comes to his super-duties. But I really don't think you should be worrying too much. I'll keep an eye on him and if I lose contact at any time, I'll call in backup. Those new high-altitude jets have cut the journey time by half so we could have someone on the ground very quickly. I'll go myself if it makes you feel better.”

“Bernie, let's hope it doesn't come to that,” Lois said, lifting her chin determinedly. There was no use whining about something she couldn't control. “I'm probably just being an over-protective mother, and you're much too old to go jaunting around the world after errant superheros. I can always send Jimmy to cover the disaster story. In fact, why haven't I already thought of that.” Lois started gesturing towards Jimmy. “Bernie, I've got to go. Things to do... arrangements to make. Just stay in touch.” The last was said more loudly as she replaced the phone in its cradle.

“Jimmy....”

“It's OK. I get the message and I'm on my way. Phone Bill, tell him to meet me at the airport. I'm assuming you'll be happier if we're both there. Get Delphine to book our tickets on the first available tri-star.”

But it appeared Lois wasn't listening, instead she sat back in her chair, her hands steepled together, studying them intently.

“Lois?”

She heaved yet another sigh. “Jimmy, no. Scrub that for the moment. We have our Asian correspondent on the spot and if you turn up, Matt will just think I don't have any faith in his abilities. I don't want to undermine his confidence. He already thinks I fuss too much about him. The trouble is, I understand how he feels. There were times when I had the same argument with Clark.”

“You? Nah! Come on Lois. You always believed in Superman. Right from the beginning you were his biggest fa... supporter.”

Lois raised her eyebrows at Jimmy's faux pas, yet she couldn't deny she had been slightly moony-eyed when Superman first arrived on the scene. But that wasn't what she'd meant. “No, the other way round. Clark used to worry about me 'dangling over the jaws of death'. I thought I'd put him straight on the fact that I was capable of taking care of myself, and then I got pregnant. He became so protective; he was like my shadow. Boy, did he get on my nerves. I mean, it was sweet in one way, but it was suffocating too. I couldn't stand it, and in the end we had quite an argument about his overbearing ways. We didn't talk for days, until we finally came to a compromise; I agreed I wouldn't go rushing in without checking the water level, after all it wasn't just my life I'd be risking, and he agreed to let me live my life the only way I knew how because, in the long run, that was the Lois Lane he fell in love with. We were an equal partnership....”

“The hottest team in town,” Jimmy said, grinning again. “You and CK.”

“Yeah....” She wanted to sigh again, only she refused to be melancholic. “But I can't do that to my son, Jimmy. I have to stand back and let him do his job and trust that he'll take care. So we'll shelve the travel plans for now and let Bernie monitor the situation.”

“Sure thing, if that's what you want... and if it's any consolation, I think you've made the right choice. Matt might have inherited his father's powers but he has a fair amount of his mother's street smarts too.”

“Thanks, Jimmy. It's comforting to know you have such confidence.” Lois said with a small touch of sarcasm as she stood up and came round her desk. “Now about that source of yours. Are you sure he has the inside line on those phony re-zoning applications?”

Lois Lane Kent for the present was back in business as Editor in Chief of the Daily Planet, the best news-gathering organization in the world, yet part of her was miles away on another continent and would be until her son came home.

*****

tbc