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From Part 17:“You think I haven’t told myself that all my life, Lois?” Clark asked her. “Look, if you need more demonstrations, I can give them - but I’ve answered your questions. You wanted to know how I got us out of there; well, I told you. What more do you want?”
He sounded frustrated, and his words reminded Lois that he hadn’t wanted to explain anything in the first place. She’d been the one to refuse to accept his evasions and attempts to change the subject. So it was hardly as if he was boasting, trying to make her believe things which were simply ridiculous.
So, if she wasn’t dreaming, and he wasn’t lying to her, and he wasn’t hypnotising her...
... then he must be telling the truth.
Clark Kent really possessed amazing abilities which no-one else on Earth had. He could fly. And he really could be from another planet.
********
Now read on...Clark turned away from Lois, frustrated as much with himself as with her. Why was he trying so hard to convince a woman who didn’t want to believe him? Wasn’t it actually preferable that she didn’t believe what he was telling her?
If she didn’t believe him, then surely he was safe? As were his parents. He wouldn’t have to leave Metropolis just as he’d got his dream job. He should be encouraging her in her disbelief, shouldn’t he, instead of doing his best to prove it all to her!
Idiot! he told himself.
But it wasn’t too late to retrieve the situation - maybe. Chances were she wouldn’t believe him, but it was worth a try...
Assuming a defeated expression, he said, “All right, Lois, I give in. You’re right. I’m making it all up. I’ve been taking advantage of the fact that you’re dead on your feet to convince you that you’re seeing me do things that I’m not.”
She gave him an astounded look. Then she picked up the broken knife again and walked straight over to him. “Am I imagining things now? Are you hypnotising me?” she demanded, thrusting the broken edge of the knife against his chest.
It fell to the floor with a clatter, and Lois winced and held her hand protectively.
Clark stared at the knife, then slowly looked at Lois as he admitted to himself that he’d failed. Or maybe he’d just been being sarcastic. Somehow, he wasn’t really sure what he’d been trying to do. Had he really believed that he could convince her that he’d been lying? He knew better than that. Didn’t he?
“Well?” she said, raising one eyebrow. “Still going to tell me that you made it all up?”
“I guess not,” he said heavily. This was it. After all those years of hiding, of making sure that no-one ever found out the truth, the game was finally up. “Look, just give me a few days, okay?”
“Huh?” Confusion writ on her face, she frowned at him.
“Just a few days, that’s all. I need to make sure that my parents are safe. And then you can do whatever you want - not that you can do much without proof, unless you were taping me, and I don’t think you were.” That was one relief, he thought. At least he wouldn’t be plastered all over the front page of the Daily Planet; not without further proof, which he had no intention of allowing Lois to get.
“Clark, I haven’t the faintest clue of what you’re talking about!” Lois said impatiently. “Do you mind starting again?”
“Before you write your story,” he explained frustratedly. “I know you need proof and I don’t think you have that, but still - I don’t want my parents’ lives destroyed, Lois! It doesn’t matter about me. I mean, I’ve always expected it anyway, and it’s not as if I haven’t moved on before when someone found out too much about me, but -”
Lois cut across him. “Clark, don’t be -”
The telephone rang.
********
“Who the heck is calling me at this time of night?” Lois muttered impatiently. She really hadn’t wanted to be interrupted right then! But it was probably important, she realised quickly, crossing to answer the insistent ringing before her neighbours started banging on the walls. Not that this - dealing with Clark and his amazing powers, plus his conviction that she was going to expose him - wasn’t also important!
“Lois Lane,” she announced brusquely.
“Lane, it’s Henderson.”
Clark mumbled something from behind her, his words indistinct given that she was trying to focus on her caller. “Not now, Clark! Wait a minute!” she said quickly, then spoke into the receiver. “What you got, Henderson?”
“Baines’ burned-out car was found a couple of hours ago,” he said tersely. “We assume the corpse inside is her, but we won’t know for sure until forensics and the medical examiner have done their bit.”
“Wait - a couple of hours ago? A couple of hours ago I was talking to you at the Planet!” Lois protested.
“I know, but I’m not omniscient, much as I might like to be,” Henderson replied dryly. “The car had been found, but since the licence plate was half-burned, there wasn’t much to tell anyone whose car it was. It’s only in the last twenty minutes that we made the connection. And I called you. Like I said I would. So can I get back to doing my job now?”
The sound of her apartment door closing made Lois whirl around. Clark was gone.
Her first instinct was to throw down the phone and run after him. She needed to talk to him - he really seemed to believe that she intended to tell the whole world about what he could do.
But... did she?
It would make a great story, assuming that she could prove it. She’d already acknowledged that. But he was right: it would ruin his life. And his parents’. And anyway... it was slowly dawning on her that there might be advantages in
not having it known.
Henderson’s voice in her ear reminded her that she really didn’t have time to think about Clark right now. “Lane? You still there? Do I have your permission to get back to doing important things?” he was drawling sardonically.
“No! Wait, Bill,” she said quickly. “What caused the fire?” Highly coincidental - or ironic - that there should be three fires in the one night, all associated with Baines... or should that be Luthor? she thought.
“Too soon to say,” he said. “But put it this way: if the forensic guys say something was planted in the car, there’s a bet I’m going to win.”
Just what she’d thought herself. “And what about Luthor?”
“Nothing. No-one’s reported any sightings or suspicious movements. But every unit in the state is looking for him, and the FBI’s getting on it as well. He won’t get away.”
Yeah, sure, Lois thought. She’d met wealthy criminals like Luthor before; they were the sort who believed themselves to be untouchable, and frequently they were. It was sheer luck that they’d been able to identify Luthor and prove that he was involved in the Messenger sabotage; he’d only been there, against his better judgement, because Baines had persuaded him. And he no doubt believed that he’d eliminated all witnesses.
Luthor would have had all his escape routes set up long ago, and a whole raft of contingency plans would be in place to ensure that, after his departure, a range of subordinates would be implicated in criminal acts - acts which would, of course, have been perpetrated or ordered by Luthor himself, but the subordinates would take the fall. And Luthor himself would be safely away in some tropical island without an extradition treaty with the US.
Well, not if she had anything to do with it!
She ended the call, then stood staring unseeingly out the window of her apartment. Dawn was breaking, but she was only barely conscious of it. She and Clark needed to track Luthor down.
Which reminded her... she had to find Clark. Right now!
Before he did anything stupid...
********
Clark paced the length of his small bedroom at the Apollo Hotel, then returned to the window, staring out at the grey dawn. There was a faint hint of gold on the horizon, but he averted his gaze from it. His mood was bleak; he didn’t want the cheering light of the sun breaking in on it.
He had to leave. That was clear - and the sooner the better, too. Lois had given him no promises; in fact, she hadn’t even answered when he’d pleaded with her for time. So he had no choice. He had to pack up his things - not that that would take more than a few seconds anyway - and leave Metropolis.
He’d have to go to Smallville first, to talk to his parents; let them know that there was a possibility - no, more than a possibility - that his secret was out. Not that he had any idea of what he was going to advise them to do. Although they should be safe enough; all they had to do was deny all knowledge of his whereabouts. They might have reporters staking out the farm for a few weeks, but the press would give up once they realised that there was no sign of their prey.
Why had he done it? What on earth had possessed him to tell Lois Lane everything about himself? He’d played right into her hands. He’d stood there and actually demonstrated what he could do! If she’d had a camera, or her tape-recorder, he’d already be front-page news.
Oh, he’d tried to avoid telling her. But she’d been too persistent and, in the end, too perceptive. And he’d got carried away by some sort of crazy desire to overcome her scepticism, and even a ludicrous attempt to impress her. Impress her? What had he thought he was doing?
She genuinely deserved her reputation as the best investigative reporter around, he accepted. She’d managed to draw him out, and by her alternately sceptical and sympathetic manner she’d got him to confess things he’d sworn never to tell anyone. And, as a result, his parents were at risk, and he was having to sacrifice the life he’d been beginning to build for himself here in Metropolis.
All because he hadn’t been able to resist the guile of a beautiful woman.
Clark sighed again, finally conceding that he had to be honest with himself. He hadn’t had to tell her. There were lots of other things he could have said, other explanations he could have made up. Or he could have persisted in his attempt to distract her. But he’d panicked, somehow ending up believing that he had no escape... and he’d told her everything.
And now, he was facing the need to run away yet again - but this time, his parents were also under threat.
Why hadn’t he thought of that before opening his big mouth?
Sighing, Clark turned away from the window and contemplated the task of packing his belongings again.
And then he heard a knock on the outer door.
He briefly considered ignoring it. Then, conscious that it could be one of the hotel staff - after all, who else would be up and about at five in the morning? - he headed to the door.
Lois stood there.
He stared at her, at first unable to think of any reason why she should have followed him. Then it struck him. He beckoned her in, closing the door behind her, then turned to her.
“Didn’t you get enough information? You want more true confessions?” he threw at her, bitterness in his tone as the acid taste of resentment flooded his throat.
She gave him a glare. “What are you talking about?”
“I asked you to give me time. Just a couple of days; that’s all I asked for!” he said curtly. “And you couldn’t even agree to that. And now you’re here again - looking for more? What do you want this time? A signed confession?”
“Why are you so convinced that I want to tell the whole world about what you can do?” Lois retorted, her indignation cutting across his anger.
But of course she was! Why would she do anything else?
Taken aback, he frowned at her. “You’re an award-winning reporter, Lois. You never let a story slip through your fingers. I can’t believe you’d ignore this - me.”
Lois began to pace, an activity which, Clark realised, made him nervous. “First, as you said a couple of times, Clark, I have no proof. And can you imagine how I’d look walking into Perry’s office and telling him that I have this amazing story about a man who can fly and can put out fires with his breath - and that I have no evidence at all except what he told me? Perry would have me certified!” She paused briefly for breath before continuing. “And second, has it occurred to you that, even if I could get proof, I might have good reasons for
not writing about you?”
“Such as?” he challenged her. Why would Lois Lane give up the chance of what he knew, without any egotism, would be a major story, as long as she could prove it?
He sensed her trying to rein in her temper, but refused to let that affect him. He was bitter with resentment, and he had every right to be. She’d made him tell her things he shouldn’t have told anyone, and by doing so she’d put everything he held of value in danger. But when Lois spoke, she took him aback with her words.
“You’re very confident with all the things you can do, Clark. So I guess you’ve been using your abilities a lot over the years?”
“What’s this? An interview? You didn’t get enough information earlier?” His lip curled sardonically, and he moved closer to Lois, knowing that he would be intimidating her by his physical size and presence.
“I could shake you, Clark Kent!” Lois exclaimed, apparently unmoved. “What do I have to do to get it into your thick head that I
don’t intend to blazon you across the front page of the Daily Planet?”
Clark blinked. “You don’t?”
She didn’t? He couldn’t believe that. Could he? There was just no way that someone of Lois Lane’s reputation would throw up a story like this one. She couldn’t possibly be serious. Could she?
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”
“Oh!” The indignation in her expression convinced him at last. Surprised, embarrassed, he took a step backwards. “Then... what were you talking about?”
“Just answer my question, okay?” she demanded.
“Okay.” He had no idea what she was up to, but after his accusations he thought he owed her a straight answer. “Yes. I... I try to help. I mean, if someone’s in trouble and I can save them, I do it. I can’t leave people hurt, maybe even dying, when there’s something I can do. And that’s why I’ve had to move around so much; I get careless, and someone gets suspicious.”
“Mmm-hmmm.” Clark got the impression that he’d simply confirmed what Lois had already guessed.
“So... why did you ask?”
“Because it struck me that we could achieve two things here, if we think hard enough about it,” Lois said calmly. “One, you can help people, but do it openly - no hiding, no being afraid of being discovered - and two, we get a terrific exclusive, a guaranteed front-page story.”
Clark stared at her. “You’re kidding! Let everyone know what I can do...? No-one I know would ever be safe!”
“No, not if it’s you, Clark Kent, doing things,” Lois answered casually. “But the beauty of my idea is - it wouldn’t be you.”
*********
...tbc
