[Chapter 6: Tested]Superman appeared right outside the museum and instantly everyone nearby turned to face him in wonder and bewilderment.
What was he doing there?
He marched up the steps, and those on the steps quickly pulled back as he immediately reached down by the lion statue and picked up a backpack.
“Superman?” a woman asked. She appeared to be a teacher chaperoning a dozen students around her.
“There was a bomb threat, but there's no bomb here,” Superman stated, opening the backpack and pulling out a piece of paper. He frowned as he read aloud. "'Superman, if you're reading this I assume you got my message. Here's the location of the real bomb, it's on this micro-CD. Unfortunately you have to assemble the player in time to play it. Good luck.'"
He looked tempted to crumple the note, but instead put it back in the bag and retrieved strange looking contents, including what was clearly a tiny CD.
“What’s that?” a kid asked.
The teacher quickly but gently shushed him, not the only one noticing how tight Superman’s posture was as Superman’s hands blurred for several seconds before suddenly stopping.
A CD player was now in his hands. Those around clapped and cheered, impressed.
“Wow! Neat! Can you make me one too?” the boy asked.
Superman smiled softly before putting in the disc and pushing play.
A condescending voice came out of the CD player. “Congratulations, but the bomb is still ticking. Here's the bomb’s location: Number of years wandering in the wilderness and minus two dozen pies is the spot. Behind the oven."
“That’s it?” the teacher who had previously shushed her student asked, clearly disappointed and baffled.
“Okay,” Superman said, processing the clues. “ ‘Number of years wandering the wilderness’. The most obvious answer is forty, when the Israelites were cursed to wander the desert for forty years because of their disobedience and lack of trust,” he said before moving to the next portion. “‘Minus two dozen pies’. Minus two dozen. Twelve. Twenty-four. Pies. Minus twenty-four pies. Forty and minus twenty-four pies is the spot.”
“Twenty-four pies? That’s stupid,” the boy said.
“Why would anyone want to eat that many?” a girl asked, confused.
“No. It’s not pies, it’s
pi’s,” Superman corrected gently, realization dawning.
“Huh?” she asked, not the only one confused.
“The number pi. 24 pi’s. 24 times pi is 75.398, rounded. So it’s 40 and
negative 75.398. It’s coordinates! ‘40°, -75.39° is the spot’!” Superman declared before he disappeared.
O o O o O
Kal landed in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, knowing that was fairly close to 40°, -75°, and entered the closest gas station.
“Superman!” the clerk exclaimed as the door’s bell jingled behind him.
“Could I see one of your city maps, please?” Kal asked. “I need one with latitude and longitude displayed, preferably.”
“Y-yes, of course!” the man said, scrambling with the shelf beside him on the counter that had local and state maps.
He quickly pulled out the map of Philadelphia and the surrounding suburbs and handed it to Superman, who was dutifully ignoring the curious onlookers from inside and outside the store.
Kal opened it and quickly scanned the large sheet on the counter, tracing his finger along the 40° latitude line until it went beyond the 75° longitude line, to about 75.4.
“There we go. Thank you very much,” Kal said, neatly folding it back up so it looked as if it had never been opened.
“No problem, Superman!” the clerk exclaimed.
With a parting wave, Kal vanished once more.
Newtown Township was a quiet and rather adorable suburb town. Following the mental image of the map in his mind, he hovered over Ivy Lane, which ran along the central square of the little shopping mall.
" 'Behind the oven'," he muttered to himself, scanning the shops.
And then he spotted it, within a bakery, behind the main oven.
Not willing to wait a moment later, he shot down, hoping he wouldn't startle the cooking crew too badly. He entered and moved the massive wheeled oven away from the wall, relieved no one was in the way.
The timer had a few minutes left on it as he x-rayed the bomb before carefully, but at super speed, removing it from the wall. With a quick zap of his heat vision, he diffused it a second later, before examining it further. It was unlike any bomb he had ever seen, with crystals stilling out the top of it and looking quite futuristic.
"This can't be," he whispered under his breath, turning it in his hand and scanning it again.
It was Kryptonian technology. Or at least as far as he could tell. Had someone in Bureau 39 managed to copy or take something before Burton had sealed everything up? Or was . . . .
"Superman, is it safe? Should we evacuate?" an authoritative, female voice asked.
He turned after burying his worried confusion and gave a kind smile.
There was a female officer (fresh donut bag in hand) and three bakers: two women and one man, who appeared to be siblings due to their physical similarities.
"It's safe now. I've disarmed it, but has there been anyone new back here recently?" he asked.
"Well, there was that health inspector two days ago," one of the women said, connecting the dots and looking ill. "They showed their credentials though, it all looked legit!"
"Hm. They didn't happen to call themselves Dave Miller, did they?" Superman asked with a frown.
“Oh my gosh!” the other woman exclaimed.
The man grunted. "Yeah. Thin, average height, black haired fella, right?"
"Matches the description I've been told," Superman said. "I don't know why he did this, but he's dangerous.”
“Backup is on their way," the officer said professionally, even as Superman placed the diffused bomb on the counter beside her.
"Very good, I–" Kal began, only to gasp loudly upon abruptly feeling a sensation he could only liken to walking through a dense spiderweb.
He physically shuddered as the ghost-like touch continued to ripple all across his form as he immediately peered through the building in the direction he believed it was coming from.
Through the bakery walls and across the mall square, he saw a man who was unquestionably Dave Miller–staring right back at him–just as surprised as he.
"Superman?" the officer hesitantly asked.
He moved, not about to allow Dave Miller (assuming that was even his real name) to escape. And if he was correct in his assumption, he had to be fast.
He shot out of the bakery as he saw Miller turn away and begin moving faster than any human could. But Kal was faster. Kal intercepted him while throwing out the most direct, commanding thought that he could at Miller.
/Stop!/The man froze as they both came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the square a few yards away from one another, giving Kal another opportunity to really look at him – although he already knew the truth.
With x-ray and microscopic vision, he could see that the man's exposed skin was just like his own in terms of density.
/I know you're Kryptonian and I will not allow you to continue threatening those under my protection, so stop. Talk to me,/ he thought to him, ignoring the confused audience around them.
The Kryptonian fully faced Kal, absolutely stunned.
“I am Kal-El, son of Lord Jor-El and Lady Lara. Now identify yourself and your reason for being here,” Kal said, hopeful, more than anything else, for a dialogue.
"My Lord, Kal-El, I—I am Lieutenant Ching. The tests will end. It is now clear that you deserve your birthright," he replied while giving him an odd, chest-fist salute coupled with a low bow.
"Birthright?" Kal asked, rattled by the implications.
At that, Ching disappeared, choosing to run instead of fly.
Kal hesitated for a split second before making a decision.
He left with a sonic boom.
O o O o O
The telltale sound of Kal's arrival echoed through the Foundation, but instead of the normal, smooth swoosh, it was a loud concussion of displaced air.
"Mav! Julie!" Superman called out.
"Kal? What's wrong?" Mav asked, hurrying out of his office as Julie stepped into the hall.
"Call the UN and the US Embassy. I'm calling an emergency meeting. I need to meet with the United Nations as soon as possible," he said. "I met another Kryptonian. They were responsible for the Space Station falling out of orbit and the recent bomb threat. I don't think they're going to do anything else now, considering what they just said, but . . . I don't know."
"What did they say?"
"He said that the tests would stop, and that it was clear I deserve my birthright. He called himself Lieutenant Ching," Kal said as Mav led them into his office.
Mav picked up a phone as Kal retrieved a pen and notebook.
"Here, I'll write down what's happened," Kal said, his hand blurring.
"I'll call the Embassy," Julie said after quickly reading what he had written. She then immediately ducked back into her office as Mav spoke into his office phone.
“Hello, this is Maverick Ervin, Director of the Superman Foundation. Superman is urgently requesting an emergency meeting of the UN. Per section 2, paragraph 1 of the Treaty of El, he must immediately inform the Security Council if he ever encounters an individual he believes to be Kryptonian," Mav said. He paused and listened to the person on the other side of the line.
"Yes, I’m quite serious,” Mav continued, speaking to the UN official. “I have him right here. Shall he fly over now?”
Kal looked at him questioningly, silently asking if he wanted him to talk to the official. Mav shook his head negative.
“Very good. Main Chambers in UN Headquarters? . . . Alright. He’s on his way now."
Kal nodded his thanks before vanishing, a sonic boom following soon after.
The person on the phone gasped at the sound.
Mav wondered how many would trip over themselves in Kal's presence that day.
O o O o O
Zara knew something had happened as soon as Ching entered their hidden craft in orbit. His expression was a strange combination of relief and astonishment.
"Ching?" she asked.
"He confronted me. I'm not sure how, but he sensed me looking through the wall at him after he stopped the bomb," Ching stated, sitting down. "There will be no more tests. He's worthy."
Zara was beyond floored. Kal-El had noticed Ching? Actually sensed his gaze? And then confronted him?! And Ching was now sure he was worthy after weeks of making derogatory comments expressing the opposite?
"What did he do?" Zara asked.
"He intercepted me and he truly knows at least some Torquasm discipline. He sent me his thoughts as a warning before verbally introducing himself."
"Due to what his Foundation publicized, we knew he had some telepathy ability, despite no training," she said.
"You misunderstood me. Not only did he speak into my mind, the power. . . . Even if I hadn't wanted to stop, I would have because he told me to."
Zara blinked. "Torquasm Vo?"
"I think if it wasn't, it was close or a variant," he admitted.
"What else happened? Where did this happen?" Zara questioned, her mind now taking possible consequences into account. "Did people see!?"
"It happened near the bakery where I placed the bomb. And yes, people saw me, but we knew that was inevitable," Ching said. "So now we need to decide when to take the next step."
Zara stilled. "He's lived many years on Earth as Clark Kent, and while he also goes by Kal-El or Kal, I think he's going to take some convincing."
"What do you mean, convincing?" Ching asked uncomprehendingly. "It's the law. He passed our tests, the law demands that he return! We'll just tell him: it's the law."
"
Kryptonian law," she pointed out.
"Yes, and he is Kryptonian. He knows the Kryptonian language, as he displayed in that degrading interview, and there's also the primitive work on crystals occurring, so he must have received some degree of instruction from Lord Jor-El. He'll see what must be done and come with us," Ching said, quite assured.
Zara placed her hand on his forearm.
"While I haven't interacted with him as you have, I've watched him as Clark Kent. Ching, he loves Earth and its people. He views himself as their protector, perhaps even their Keeper, but it goes beyond that. His life as Clark is just as integral to his identity as Kal-El or Superman. I don't think he will leave as easily as you believe, especially when he learns he won't be able to come back," she countered.
"Zara, he's our future, and our children's future. Without him, New Krypton is doomed. When he realizes that, he'll come," Ching promised.
"I hope you're right," Zara said softly, "But if we are to convince him, we must be upfront. I think we should contact him sooner rather than later."
"Very well."
O o O o O
"What do you mean there's someone else like Superman?" her mom asked from the other room.
Her dad had just returned from work as a server in the mall's main restaurant and she could smell dinner cooking.
"Just what I said! There was this man who appeared when Superman sped into the mall square. A moment later, the man said something to Superman, bowed, and then shot off in a blur!" her dad answered.
Mary hurried into the room, very curious to hear more.
"What did Superman do?" Mary asked.
"He disappeared too. Some people think he went after the man. Maybe there's something on the news about it," her dad explained before turning on the television.
It didn’t take him long to find a channel with the news reporting on it since it was just after 5pm. Already, news stations were clamoring around the Foundation, expecting a statement concerning the ‘super’ individual who Superman had apparently confronted.
There were conflicting reports of what had been said between them, and unfortunately there was no footage of the incident, but what was consistent from eye-witnesses was that the man had bowed respectfully to Superman before dashing off in a blur.
Unsurprisingly, speculation was high and questions multiplied. Was the man Kryptonian? Was he perhaps even a member of Superman's family? Why did he bow? Why did he leave?
Fortunately, it seemed that they might be getting some answers as Mr. Ervin stepped out of the Foundation. Like so many times before, he went behind the podium and waited for those assembled to quiet.
“Thank you, I understand there are many questions on what has recently occurred, so I will get straight to it.
“Superman was in Pennsylvania today due to a bomb threat that originated in Metropolis. From what Superman was able to discern, the individual responsible had set up a series of problems to test him, with the final portion in Pennsylvania. For why exactly, Superman does not know. However, this stranger, who identified himself to Superman as Lieutenant Ching, did say the tests were over. He also seemed to suggest that Superman had passed, but again, the exact purpose of said tests is currently unknown,” Mav explained. He cleared his throat before continuing. “What is known is that Lt. Ching is a Kryptonian, and for that reason Superman is speaking with the United Nations this very moment. Per the Treaty of El, he is obligated to bring the existence of any Kryptonians to the immediate attention of the UN’s Security Council. As soon as he was able, Kal-El returned here and we called the UN and the U.S. Embassy to request an emergency meeting – of which, again, he is currently in. This is all that I can share at the moment. As soon as the meeting ends, he will make a statement. Thank you,” Mav finished.
The world stilled.
O o O o O
[UN Security Council Chamber, New York City]
Sekou Imani, the translator for the Representative of Angola, knew he wasn’t the only one staring as Superman pulled back from the mic.
He had just finished telling them what had occurred less than two hours before, as well as everything he knew about this Ching person, who had also gone by the name Dave Miller.
The Security Council Chamber had a large ‘C’-shaped table off the center of the far wall with three rows of chairs encircling the outside of it. On either side of this main seating area were three additional rows of red chairs facing the ‘C’, and facing the ‘C’-opening was an incline with several hundred chairs set in columned pairs.
Every seat was filled, with Superman seated at the 10 o'clock position of the ‘C’-shaped conference table so most of the chamber could clearly see him, although Imani had to turn his body slightly to see his face because he was seated just a few seats from him.
Cameras throughout the chamber were recording, but none of them were broadcasting live. This was a classified meeting, although they all knew what was discussed would likely not remain outside of public knowledge for long.
"Thank you, Superman. And you believe he was also responsible for the Space Station falling out of orbit?" the current Head of the Security Council, Mr. Benjamin Jones, asked from the other side of the room.
"Yes," Superman stated, before the representative from the US asked to take the floor after receiving a note from a messenger.
His request was granted.
"I just received information from my government. STARLabs has the micro-transmitter used to send the signal that caused the thrusters to misfire and found 'Ching Ltd.' inscribed microscopically on the center of the microchip. Also, the experts at STARLabs are floored by the chip's intricacies. They’re confident no place on Earth made it," the representative explained before sitting back.
"Thank you, Representative Jackson," Jones said, before turning back to Superman. "Other than what he had said and his speed, are there any other indications that Ching is a Kryptonian?"
"I peered into his arm. His cell structure is like mine. He's Kryptonian," Superman clarified.
"And this birthright he mentioned?" Jones asked.
Everyone was very curious about that.
Superman sighed softly and actually looked a little self-conscious, or maybe that emotion was embarrassment?
"I'm the heir to the Noble House of El," he answered.
"You’re nobility?” Jones asked, as surprised as most there.
“Yes,” he said with a nod.
“Was your father the leader of your people, then?"
"No, but he was in leadership. Kryptonian society was controlled by twelve Noble Houses, and a Noble Lord from one of those Houses ruled over the planet in turn through complex arrangements and negotiations. Those conditions were re-evaluated and remade each generation, so there was a rotation of power, of sorts. As for my father, he was Krypton's leading scientist and the Head of the Kryptonian Imperial Council before they removed him."
"He was removed as the Head? Why?" a council member beside Jones asked, not the only one who latched onto that bit.
"My father was demoted and ostracized for trying to warn the Council of the disaster that ultimately destroyed Krypton." Superman's jaw clenched before he went on. "From my parents' recordings, there seemed to be more going on than an arrogant refusal to prove or disprove an unpopular theory. There were other things my father and the Council didn't see eye-to-eye on. I believe when my father gave that warning and tried to inform the public, the Council took it as an opportunity to get rid of him by painting him as a troubled scientist who had lost touch with reality," Superman explained, clasping his hands together in what Imani could only assume was personal anguish.
"Do you believe a remnant of your people might have heeded your father's warning?" Jones asked as Superman lowered his hands onto the surface of the table.
“I suppose it’s possible. I have no information outside of what my parents were doing those last few months. I hope someone listened, although if they did and Lt. Ching survived because of that, I don’t know why he felt it necessary to test me and put people in dan–”
Superman startled, as if his entire frame had been dunked in ice water, and exhaled heavily before pressing the bottom edge of his palm against the side of his head as if in pain.
"Superman?!" several people asked, understandably alarmed.
O o O o O
He could only liken it to a pulse, a strange droning sound echoing in his mind, like a radio trying to dial into the correct frequency. It was disorienting and more than a little painful, similar to his early experiences with super-hearing, but this was so much more encompassing.
Distantly, he could see and hear the people around him expressing concern, but then the echo refined and snapped to the edge of his mind, and the discomfort receded.
++Lord Kal-El++
He lowered his hand, the foreign haze lightening enough for him to focus and create a coherent thought.
He shifted forward in his seat and grabbed the nearest pen and notepad. Jotting down words, he motioned for the people beside him to read and follow along.
/Yes? Who is this?/ he asked, hoping he was projecting his thoughts properly as he wrote down the words being shared telepathically.
He knew the voice wasn't Ching's, for it was feminine.
++I am Lady Zara. We need very much to see you.++
/Zara?/ he questioned, his mind suddenly reeling.
She couldn't be the same Zara, could she? The Zara whose name was written on his vessel that essentially stated they were betrothed?!
++Yes.++
The councilors around him shifted quietly, and he felt one of them–he believed it to be one of the translators, a black man from Angola–come beside him.
In a low whisper, the translator began reading into his mouth-piece what Kal-El wrote so everyone in the chamber could know what was being communicated.
/Is Lieutenant Ching with you?/ Kal-El asked, deciding to move on.
++Yes. And I know you have no reason to trust us. I can only give you my word that you must. There's so much to tell you, Kal-El.++
Clark closed his eyes, suddenly overcome with emotion that was both his and, astonishingly, not his. He could feel trepidation, hope and uncertainty, as well as his own jumbled emotions that one would expect to have upon learning you are truly not the last of your kind. But there was no time for him to even attempt to process what he was feeling before he was hit by whispers he could only assume were Zara's underlying thoughts.
Are we going about this the right way? Will he listen? What if he refuses to see us? We can't fail now!His center seemed to waver, and it was with great effort he re-grounded himself and answered.
/Let us talk then, face-to-face, Lady Zara. Come to the UN Security Council in New York. I am there now./
Fear and confusion swirled.
++You are currently speaking with Earth's leaders?++
/Their representatives, yes. I am open with them./
Her bafflement and concern nearly swallowed him, and he felt a large hand grip his shoulder in support. Kal was grateful and didn't care how the person knew he needed such grounding as he continued to write down the mental conversation. He didn't jot down anything else he was sensing or 'overhearing', however. It was really a miracle he was able to transcribe what he did as her subconscious echoed into his core once more.
How open is he with the humans? Did he tell them what Ching did? Has that derailed any hope of us getting his help?++Very well. If you're agreeable, I and four others will come shortly,++ she replied, her voice steady despite her turbulent emotions and internal monologue.
/That is acceptable,/ he replied, hoping she would sever the connection soon.
He felt he might throw up due to his lack of control and the bleed over of everything from her.
++Thank you, Lord Kal-El. You do not know how much this means. We will be there in ten minutes.++
The connection vanished and he heaved a sigh of relief. He held his head in his hands as his mind swam with questions, hopes, and fears.
"Are you alright, Superman?" Jones asked.
He blinked away the disorientation and faint nausea before pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a slow deep breath.
"I just need a moment," he said as he straightened and closed his eyes. The hand on his shoulder disappeared.
"Telepathy, I take it?"
He wasn't sure who asked, but he nodded.
"Here's some water," someone said, setting down a glass by his hand.
"Thanks," he said softly, before drinking it slowly, hoping it would quell his mental uneasiness.
"We have alerted security to escort them here when they arrive," another stated as others began asking questions.
"Are they just going to fly here? And there will be five of them?"
"What if they're hostile?" another asked.
"She was afraid, desperate even," Superman stated, shaking his head and getting all of their attention. "I sensed she wants my help. Whatever they need me for, it's important. They're not going to jeopardize that anymore than they already have."
"Then let's make sure we're ready. I'm having the center table brought in. It should be here shortly," Jones stated before focusing on Superman. "They can sit on one side and you on the other."
Kal nodded in agreement.
"Shall we limit those in attendance? Perhaps even clear the chamber?" Jones asked, referring to the support staff of the council members and those with permission to view talks.
"No. It would be best for the UN to maintain full procedures, and actually, increasing the number of people in attendance might be helpful. Admittedly, I know traditional Kryptonians tend to–" Kal didn't attempt to hide his grimace, "–appreciate grandstanding, for lack of a better word."
"I see," Jones said, torn between amusement at Superman's reaction and his own misgivings on hosting the official intergalactic meeting.
O o O o O
Comments
