[Chapter 8: Aura]Clark scanned another folder.
It wasn't Poloma’s case, but since he had the folder, there was no harm in speed reading it.
He hadn't found Jasmine’s friend yet. He still hadn't even actually identified her, even with the help of the sketch. Unfortunately, as detailed as Jasmine had been, she hadn't known Poloma's last name (assuming Poloma was also her actual first name), when she had been kidnapped, or even which reservation she had been taken from. And there were 39 reservations in Oklahoma, and a horrifying amount of missing persons.
This resulted in many inquiries and, in the end, Clark had simply begun asking for all missing person reports from the past five years involving girls under fourteen to be sent to him. Of course, this required Clark to jump through a wide range of hoops, and he was having a bear of a time even getting in contact with anyone from most of the tribes who were both willing and able to help him.
What he had now was actually the first fruit from all his efforts. And it was only from two tribes.
Lois, just arriving home from work, stopped outside the living room.
"Whoa," she whispered.
There were boxes beside the coffee table and files strewn about.
"Yeah. These just arrived. Fortunately, someone at the Chickasaw Nation was able to gather their reports and mail them. Granted, I'm pretty sure they just copied and sent everything. I've come across a few twenty-year-old plus cold cases so far, but I can't really blame them. I know it's rare for anyone outside to inquire about such things," Clark said, picking up another file. "I'm just glad that an old contact of mine vouched for me, otherwise they probably wouldn't have given me anything."
"You know . . . I think I'm going to talk to Perry. I think I should do a story on this. I don't understand how this isn't getting more attention. The amount of missing persons from reservations and the fact it gets zero attention. . . ."
"It's infuriating, that's for sure," Clark stated, flipping a page.
"Why is this happening, do you think? Racism?" she asked.
"It's more complicated than that, though that certainly doesn't help," he said, heaving a worn sigh. "The real issue is jurisdiction hamstringing things and the limited resources devoted to solving cases. You see, if a native american goes missing on a reservation, that's federal jurisdiction, meaning
federal law enforcement is responsible for investigating and
federal prosecutors decide which cases go to court – assuming anyone is ever charged, and unfortunately when people are charged, there's often so little evidence that prosecutors are afraid it'll be a waste of their time, which is already severely short. After all, why prosecute a perp who will likely not be proven guilty and just walk due to lack of evidence when you have several other cases also needing attention that have a higher chance of success?"
He shook his head. "But that's not even the half of it. There's also confusion in communication between the tribe, local, and federal officials, in part because of the jurisdiction issue, and that's before egos and politics get involved. That dysfunction, I believe, is what often leads to so little evidence being gathered – not to mention lack of people who are successfully found – which feeds into the low rate of prosecutions, which emboldens criminals in those areas to just do more because they know they'll be able to get away with it. This in turn means more work for investigators overall, which leads to even less effectiveness, less resources to go around, which feeds back on itself. It's a mean loop, and, to be frank, is yet another example proving how nonsensical rules, some even well-meaning, result in more and more bad people not getting caught and, when they do, technicalities become evil people's benefactors."
Clark took another deep breath. "And all of that is compounded by the lack of infrastructure and, unfortunately, alcoholism. It’s not uncommon for reservations to have very few paved roads, no road signs, no running water, and extensive distances between manmade structures. And as for alcoholism, it’s a big problem that’s not effectively being addressed – how can it when many of the buildings have no running water and there are so many other critical needs not being adequately addressed? – which just feeds into more domestic violence and is very likely involved in a number of missing persons. There’s a plethora of layered issues and I didn’t list them all. So, as you can see, it's pretty frustrating. And I've known about these issues, but it's only been since looking for Poloma that I've realized the extent. It's . . . it's essentially across the board for all of the Tribes, Lois. And the worst thing about it is, it doesn't have to be this way."
Lois frowned, his aura humming his agitation.
"Then I'll write a story on it and try to bring at least some of the issues to light. I think if the general public knew the truth, really knew it, things would have to change," she said, before taking a breath. She sat down beside him, providing comfort as his aura swirled against her skin.
Her own aura, or life force rather, slowly eased toward him. While her control over her aura was miniscule, he could feel the effort she was making to comfort him in every way she could.
“Thanks, Lois,” he whispered, before growing thoughtful. “I wonder if the Foundation could do something to help.”
“I imagine Mav and Janet would be all over this,” she said with a smile, standing back up.
He grinned up at her and she could feel him calm.
"Sorry, random question, do you know where my earring is? The blue and gold one?" she asked after a moment. "I had wanted to wear them today to work, but could only find one of them."
Clark looked up from the folder thoughtfully. "Hm, let me do a quick scan," he said as he lowered his glasses to do a searching sweep of the house.
Lois smiled appreciatively. "Thank–"
Clark cut her off with a violent gasp and flinch, his hand immediately going to his left eye, knocking off his glasses.
"What's wrong?!" she cried, feeling his alarm through his aura.
"My eye!" he gritted out. "It hurts!"
"Let me see, let me see!" Frantically, she put her hands on his face, trying to determine what was wrong.
Tentatively, he lowered his hand and opened his eyes.
Lois gasped, covering her mouth.
His left eye was no longer brown, but red and white, in the pattern it had been before it had healed.
His eyebrows rose as both of his eyes focused on her face, though his left was watering profusely.
"You're . . . glowing," he breathed.
"Glowing? You mean, you can still see?" she asked, nervous.
He closed his right eye and looked only with his left for a moment, before switching to his right, and then looking with both again.
When he looked with his left eye, she was glowing, and there were churning hues of colored light through the air everywhere. Almost like smoke or mist, but more transparent. With his right, he saw normally, having turned off his X-ray vision.
Clark forced his breathing to calm.
"Does it still hurt?" she asked, still staring.
"No. It only stung for a few seconds. What does it . . . look like?" he asked.
"Like before. Before it healed," she managed, before he looked down and tightly closed his eyes. "Clark?"
"I'm trying, trying to turn it off," he said, concentrating.
Lois didn't speak, not wanting to distract him. Finally, he looked back up and she sighed in relief at seeing both of his eyes normal again.
"I need to go see Bernie," he stated.
She nodded in agreement. "Go."
He disappeared, a sonic boom in his wake.
O o O o O
Kal sat down in the chair. "Thank you for agreeing to see me so quickly, Dr. Ortega."
Ortega was the ophthalmologist who Kal had seen after he had undergone the surgery that utilized red kryptonite and then again soon after the healing caused by the solar flare. So Ortega had measurements and images they could compare, and he had the expertise to better understand any differences they found.
"It was no trouble," Dr. Ortega said, organizing his instruments. “Any sudden changes in the eye can be very serious. I’m glad you didn’t wait.”
Dr. Klein stood back but watched the exam in silent concern as Kal then answered Ortega's questions as best he could.
"I'm not seeing anything different from the last images we took, and your visual acuity is the same," Dr. Ortega admitted after finishing the exam. "Do you think you could try to . . . do what you had before?"
Kal nodded and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and staring at the wall.
With his right eye, the wall melted away, but as he attempted to do the same with his left at the same time, stinging discomfort flared. The feeling faded slightly and he looked at Dr. Ortega and Klein. He turned off his X-ray vision but kept whatever was happening with his left on.
Quickly, Ortega took his ophthalmoscope and looked, peering into the strange iris of red and white with a pupil that was in the shape of a curved diamond. He then quickly began to go through the rest of the exam again.
Kal tried to keep his breathing even, but it was difficult. His eye felt
very strange and he didn’t understand what he was seeing. Was this a new ability? Or was this leading to the loss of his sight again?
“Kal?” Bernie asked. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just . . . I wish I knew what I was seeing,” he admitted.
“Could you describe it again, please?” Ortega asked, pulling back.
Kal looked at Dr. Klein and then looked back at Ortega. “You both are glowing. Sort of. It’s not consistent. The glows are constantly moving around you both, less than an inch from your bodies, and they’re different. Your glows are different from one another, I mean. And it's not just the two of you. It's like there's glowing smoke whirling in the air, but it's really faint.
“It looked like it hurt when you first activated it,” Ortega said. “Could you describe the pain? Does it still hurt?”
“The pain is completely gone now, but it stung for a bit there. A lot like looking at a bright light after being used to the dark,” he said.
"Hm, okay. Do you think you could turn it off as I am looking in your eye?" Ortega asked, looking through the scope again.
"I can try," he offered, before concentrating.
The glow around Ortega abruptly turned off and Kal sighed in relief.
Ortega shook his head in amazement. "Well, your iris and lens are separate, unlike before, so when you activate whatever this is, I can make out a thin band of your iris around your pupil which, instead of being black in normal light, exposes the inner workings of your eye, which. . . ."
He turned toward his computer and opened an image of Kal’s left eye.
"I took this photo before you stopped just now. This whole area is your pupil, or maybe I should say your primary pupil," he said, indicating the entire red and white region, including the misshapen center diamond. He then pointed to a faint line of black surrounding it all, separating the red and white mix from the rest of his eye. "And here is your iris. If you remember, before, this wasn't there at all because it was one with your lens," he said.
"So that's not really my pupil?" Kal asked, pointing to the diamond shape in the center.
"Well, it still sort of functions as a pupil I think, so we can think of it as a secondary one, but no, that's not your pupil because your iris, the brown part of your eye, doesn't regulate its size," Ortega explained.
"So my eye has . . . two ocular systems?" Kal asked.
"Put simply, yes. Both of them do, it's just that your left's primary iris can extend so much more than the right, fully exposing this," he said, pointing to the red and white zone. "There's more to it than that, of course, as your left doesn't have the exact same composition as your right anymore. I can see differences between your right and left retinas and vitreous chambers, and minute differences between other features of your eyes that humans just don't have," Ortega said. "Like the diamond pupil. Your other eye has one too, but it's not as curved. And the secondary iris in your right doesn't have any red in it."
"Wow," Kal said, still staring at the image. "So my vision isn't . . . at risk?"
"Not as far as I can see. And as for the discomfort, it's likely because you're overexposing the interior of your eye to the glow you're seeing. A lot like when someone with a dilated pupil gets surprised with a bright light. Granted, that's just a guess, but from what I can discern, I'm pretty confident in that assessment. However, I don't know what you're actually seeing when you use this ability."
Kal looked at Dr. Klein who was looking thoughtful.
"Kal, do you think you could be seeing . . . auras?" Bernie asked.
Kal stilled. "I might be. That would explain why I was seeing more of it in the air at home. I was relaxing my aura then."
O o O o O
The knowledge he had obtained about his eyes from Dr. Ortega went a long way in helping him grasp his new ability, and Dr. Klein's excitement helped him get over any reservations he might have otherwise had.
"This is amazing! You could likely couple this with your healing! And when you're on rescue, this could be another way you evaluate a person's condition!" Bernie explained as they went through a round of testing.
That last thought bolstered Kal. Sure, he already had a really good handle on conducting triage, but having another tool to evaluate someone's situation could save lives. He would be able to better prioritize by knowing who could wait for treatment and those who couldn't. Of course, he still had a lot of learning to do, like learning what the colors and such actually meant, but one thing was certain, he was seeing a unique form of energy, what Bernie had dubbed: life force.
All the way down to bacteria, if it was alive, he could see a glow ebbing from it.
Mav handled the statement to the press, which was accepted by the public without much fanfare, oddly enough. There was some curiosity of course, but since he would only be using it in medical or critical settings, and admitted he was still learning to understand its capabilities, people acknowledged it and then moved on.
He supposed after the return of his sight and then the revelation about his marriage, a new power providing another type of perception wasn't a huge deal, which Clark was perfectly fine with.
Ironically, Dr. Wilson, his therapist, was far more interested.
"So it's like a full body halo?" Wilson asked, meeting Kal's currently mismatching eyes.
"Yeah, but when I really watch, it's more fluid than just a glow. It's closer to fire in movement," Kal explained.
"That's so amazing," Wilson said as Kal turned it off, his eye returning to his chocolate brown. “And you used it yesterday at the hospital?”
“Yeah. The kids loved it,” he said, smiling.
Wilson smiled back, understanding how important yesterday had been to Kal.
The study of the long-term effects of Superman's aura had resumed, meaning he was able to get back to helping severely injured children.
“I only used it before I healed them though. I don’t like using it when my aura is relaxed, it’s too intense and distracting, and I haven’t had it on while I heal for that reason,” Kal admitted. “I have no idea what it would look like, but something tells me I’m probably better off not finding out until I understand more.”
“That’s understandable,” Wilson said, before glancing at Kal’s left hand.
He wore his wedding ring all the time now and Wilson was happy for him. The openness was clearly good for him and the world.
“So anything specific you want to talk about?” Wilson asked, as he often did.
Kal was unquestionably his easiest and most difficult client, and, though he would never tell anyone, his favorite.
O o O o O
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