From Last Time:
"I do not believe that," that she said in a quiet, but firm tone. "There is nothing you can tell me that will diminish my respect or admiration of you."
"Yes there is," he replied just as assuredly. "I don't want you to know what Nor took from me. Because all you'll see when you look at me is what's missing. What used to be there that I don't have anymore. No matter how hard you try, you'll see nothing except the hole.”
"You are still Clark Kent. You are a good man, Nor hasn't changed that." There was a fierce sense of conviction shining in her hazel eyes as she looked up at him.
He turned away from her, knowing that she was wrong. She wouldn’t say these things if she knew about how often while being tortured, he’d prayed for the sweet release of death. How much he’d just wanted it to be over. She wouldn’t look at him the same if she knew just how much the simple mention of Nor’s name was enough to send a tremor through his entire body. How he couldn’t close his eyes at night without seeing his tormentor’s face. How the very sight of it left him paralyzed with fear. "Zara, please let me just pretend I still have my dignity."
********
New Stuff:
Lois touched down on the fire escape outside Jimmy’s window. She tapped on the glass, getting his attention. He bounded over to let her in. “Hey,” she said as she stepped into the apartment. “Perry said you wanted to talk to me.” Once in the apartment she spun back into her own clothes.
“Hey Lois!” he replied. “Yeah, I uh, was hoping you’d let me go back to Kinwara with you.” He walked the short distance to his tiny kitchen and pulled out two cans of cream soda from the refrigerator.
She frowned slightly. “Are you sure you want to?” She caught the can of soda he tossed to her and tapped the top of it absently with one finger.
“Yeah,” her young friend said earnestly. “I know this isn’t just a story for you…”
“That’s exactly the problem,” she interrupted. “This is the kind of thing that gets to you. It gets inside you and it makes you sick. You don’t need this.”
“I’m not doing this to impress Perry. The story needs to be told and no one else is helping you do that.”
“I can’t ask you to help me,” she replied quietly.
“Why not?” he challenged. “I’m your friend, aren’t I?”
“Of course you’re my friend. Jimmy, you’re like family to me and Clark.”
“You guys *are* my family,” he insisted. “And family takes care of each other. I want to help you do this, because it’s the right thing to do. And because you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”
Lois sighed but said nothing. She put the can of cream soda down on the kitchen counter, trying to think of the right way to explain to him just why she was so eager to protect him from the ugliness she saw every day. Jimmy was a year or two older than she was when she started working at the Planet. Young, headstrong, invincible. Just because she never would have listened to an older, more prudent voice of caution, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try to convince him not to go.
“You’re going tomorrow morning, aren’t you?” he asked. “Take me with you. Please.”
“Jimmy, it’s dangerous…”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” he protested. “I’ve seen what’s going on there and I want to do something about it. If you don’t take me, I’ll just have to fly commercial.”
She should have said no, but it was tough enough trying to do her job as Ultrawoman, she didn’t have time to get the story as well. She could definitely have used the help. “I’ll stop by tomorrow morning just before five. If you change your mind, I’ll understand.”
“I’ll be ready,” he insisted.
********
She walked down the corridor to the hangar deck. The crew chief saluted her smartly as she approached. “Your Interceptor, ma’am?” he asked. “I stripped down and rebuilt the engine personally last week. It will fly like new.”
“Not today, Sergeant,” she replied with a smile. Zara had known the crew chief since they were both seventeen and he was a brand new mechanic in Air Command. Even now, when he had a hundred mechanics and technicians working for him, he was still the only person she allowed to touch her beloved Interceptor. She looked back at the well scrubbed young cadet walking a few paces behind her. “Do you have a training Interceptor we might borrow?” she asked. A stunned look settled on her younger brother’s face.
“Of course, ma’am,” the crew chief replied. He led them toward the two-seat version of what she considered the greatest ship ever built. It was the only ship in the Kryptonian fleet designed for both ordinary flight as well space travel. It wasn’t equipped for a hyper light drive, but within the planet’s atmosphere, no ship could compare to its speed and maneuverability.
“An Interceptor? Really?” he asked excitedly. Tem Ra had not been nearly as impatient as his twin brother with their training, but she knew that he wished to fly an Interceptor just as badly as Dek Ra did.
“I think you are ready,” she replied.
He beamed at her. “I am,” he agreed.
“Just remember,” she cautioned sternly. “The Interceptor is not only the fastest ship ever built, it is also one of the most sensitive. You will do exactly as I command. Do you understand?”
Her teenaged brother nodded vigorously. She knew intellectually that she was even younger than he when she began flying. By nineteen, she was fully qualified on three different aircraft, including the Interceptor. Nonetheless, it was with great trepidation that she agreed to oversee their training. Flying, especially flying combat aircraft, was an extraordinarily dangerous business, even in peacetime. Experienced pilots died in training missions. And now, with their world at war, she was ushering them to its front lines. With the exception of using her authority to keep them out of the coveted assignments they had earned, however, there was nothing she could do to prevent it. In her mind, they were still children and she was so much older than they, that it only seemed natural that she should protect them. As their older sister, she should have kept them out of trouble. As their First Minister, she should have protected them from war. In neither respect had she succeeded. All she could do now was ensure they were as well trained as possible and hope that the war ended long before they received their commissions and were called to combat.
********
“Do you think we should take this to the First Ministers?” Nen Fas asked.
“Not yet,” Daros replied. He stopped and turned to look at his subordinate. Like Daros, he was a career military man, now serving as the head of intelligence in Joint Command. “Who else knows about this besides you?”
“The chief of signals intelligence in Air Command, some of her staff.”
Daros frowned. The chief of signals intelligence was a general commander, fourth class, the same rank as Nen Fas, but she was not within Daros’s chain of command. “Does she know the potential significance of this information?”
“It is all speculation at this point, sir, but she will put the pieces together.”
“I want to meet with both of you, figure out what exactly it is we know, then we will decide what to do.”
“Aye, sir,” Nen Fas replied with a crisp salute. He retreated down the corridor in the direction he’d come from.
********
“Thank you for your help,” Lois said.
“I’m happy to do it,” the general replied. “The Daily Planet is one of the few papers actually covering this tragedy. We’re glad to have you with us, Mr. Olsen.”
“Just ‘Jimmy,’ sir.”
Rapin placed his hands on his hips as he surveyed his forces, assembled in the compound. “Captain!” The general bellowed across the compound. His junior officer came jogging toward them. “Jimmy Olsen, this is Captain Karsten Van Eyck. He will be your escort today. Captain, Mr. Olsen will go wherever you go today.”
“Yes sir,” Van Eyck replied with a smart salute. He turned toward Jimmy. “If you’ll follow me…” Jimmy grabbed the strap of his camera bag, slung over his shoulder, as if to remind himself that it was still there, and hurried after the officer.
Lois waited until they were both gone before speaking. “I’m sorry about what I said that day…”
“It is forgotten,” Rapin interrupted her.
“I had no right…” she protested.
“You were angry. And you should have been. Because good people keep dying here and no matter what we do, it’s never enough. You get angry because you care. The real problem is when you stop getting angry. If you don’t care enough to get angry, you probably don’t care enough to hope anymore, either.”
“Do you still have hope?” she asked tentatively.
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
She nodded in tacit understanding. “I’m going to fly a patrol over the valley,” Ultrawoman told him. “I’ll be in touch.”
“We’ll be communicating on channel three,” Rapin informed her.
“I’ll tune in, call me if you need anything,” she said before lifting off the ground.
********
“Excellent work, Commander,” Clark said with a faint smile as he looked up at the large communications screen in the First Ministers’ quarters. The forces in the Belaar had completely averted the large scale sabotage the rebels had planned. Talan’s mission had been a total success.
Talan replied with a slight nod. “Thank you, sir, but I am afraid it is not enough. We have fallen back into a pattern of reacting to the enemy, instead of anticipating it.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We must take the offensive again, sir. Nor has been gathering intelligence on us, searching for weaknesses, exploiting whatever advantages he can find. We have to do the same.”
Clark bit his lip and frowned. The last time they’d tried to hunt Nor down, they had received nothing for their troubles. He’d simply melted away into the darkness with his forces. Dedicating troops to the offensive meant weakening their defenses. But what choice did they have? “I agree. Whatever resources you need are yours.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He was silent for a long moment, letting the question that had gnawed at him for months roll around in his mind. The creeping fear had burned a hole in his gut, tearing him apart slowly from the inside. He desperately needed it to stop. Finally, he gave voice to his doubts, seeking reassurance but at the same time, knowing his able commander would never lie just to make him feel better. “Can we beat Nor? Can we win this war?”
“We can, sir. And we will. Nor may be ruthless, and without ethics, but he is also without principles. A monster who believes in nothing can still be hunted down. He can still be deterred and frightened and he can be manipulated because he places his own survival above everything else. The truly frightening enemy is the one without scruples and an overabundance of belief. The one who will give up anything, even his own life and the life of every innocent person around him because of an idea. There is nothing Nor is willing to die for. Because of that, he is afraid. And we shall give him good reason to fear.”
********
Lois looked up, subconsciously tilting her head to one side in a perfect imitation of Clark, as she listened to the broadcast. “Ultrawoman, if you’re around, we could use some help.” Without another glance at the munitions dump she’d just destroyed, she burst upward, the gust of wind left in her wake shook the nearby tree limbs as she careened through the sky toward the source of the transmission – a village on the other end of the valley. She saw the dark tendrils of smoke long before the tiny hamlet came into view. With both fists clenched tightly in front of her, she pushed forward with an additional burst of speed. Her stomach tied itself in knots as she prayed that she wasn’t going to be too late. Not again. Not this time.
********
Jimmy focused hard on keeping his hands from trembling. He would never get clear photos if he couldn’t stop shaking. He took pictures of everything – the burning buildings, the fleeing rebels, the pursuing UN forces, the dazed, wounded, and helpless civilians. The shutter clicked in rapid, flurried bursts as he burned through roll after roll of film. He tried not to jump at the pop-popping sound of gunfire and the hysterical cries that seemed to come from everywhere all at once.
Thunder roared overhead and he looked up to see the familiar and extraordinarily welcome sight of Lois rocketing toward them. In a blur, she sped into one burning house and then the next, rescuing the trapped survivors. He followed her with his lens, taking shot after shot, remembering that a good photographer would take hundreds of pictures in hopes of capturing just one perfect image. From a distance that seemed both profoundly detached and unbearably close, he focused his zoom lens on her as she ran out of one unremarkable building, with nothing to distinguish it from its neighbors except the fact that it used to be the home of the tiny infant Lois now carried in her arms, held close to her chest. The baby lay completely on one of Lois’s forearms, her hand gently cradling the child’s head, her other hand shielding the infant’s face. The image she cut was both tender and fiercely protective. It was…unmistakably maternal.
He took photograph after photograph, straining to listen for the baby’s cries over the chaos and din that surrounded them, but he couldn’t.
********
In the darkened nursery, Lois lifted Jon gently from his crib without waking him. She floated to the rocking chair, her son sleeping soundly in her arms, his head on her shoulder. His thumb found its way to his mouth as she rocked back and forth. She took his other hand in hers and looked down at his perfect little fingers. His mouth turned into a frown as he began to whimper. She began to hum softly. Her little boy liked jazz standards, just like his mom and dad. He continued to fuss, though, until she finally started humming his favorite, much though it pained her. She whispered the words to the tune as she finally found her voice. The words almost seemed to get stuck in her throat and she sung them hesitantly.
“I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more
Than I’ll ever know.
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world.”
She felt a single tear roll down her cheek as she kissed the top of her son’s head.
“And I think to myself
What a wonderful world.”
********
Perry looked down at the mockup of his front page for the next morning. He put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “That’s some picture you took. It’ll be on the front page of the paper tomorrow and before the week’s end, the cover of every magazine in the country. It’s heroic. Iconic.”
“The baby died,” Jimmy replied sullenly.
********
Ultrawoman stared out at the crowds that had gathered on the Mall, carrying signs and banners. Whole swaths of people were clad in the blue “Save Kinwara” t-shirts. The rally could have been larger, but it wasn’t a bad sized group. It was actually better than she’d expected. The din of the crowd died down as she approached the podium. She glanced back over her shoulder at Congressman Pennybaker, Rabbi Cohen, and Reverend Sperling, who had organized the rally, as well as the handful of celebrities who’d joined in vocally supporting their cause.
“I want to thank you all for coming here today,” she began. “I know many of you traveled from all over the country to be here. By being a part of this, you’re giving a voice to those who don’t have one. And you’re helping us shine a light on a corner of the planet that the rest of the world seems intent on forgetting. I hope that you continue speaking for those who cannot speak for themselves. I hope that you’ll write your congressmen, and your senators, and your president and tell them that we must stamp out genocide. That ‘never again’ cannot be just a hollow saying.” She looked at the tens of thousands of pairs of eyes focused on her as she tried to remind herself that what she was saying was true. These were the things she believed in. These were things worth fighting for.
“Normally, we’d ask you to observe a moment of silence. But silence is exactly what’s wrong with the world. Silence can be ignored. Silence can be forgotten. Silence can swallow up the victims of this crime. So please, don’t be silent. Continue to fight. Speak up. Be heard. And continue speaking until people really listen.” She finished her speech and stepped away from the podium.
Congressman Pennybaker stood up to shake her hand. As she approached him, he leaned toward her and whispered, “We’re going to stage a demonstration outside the Togoran Embassy tomorrow to protest President Sangara’s support for the rebel armies.”
Lois arched a brow skeptically. “You know it’s illegal to protest in front of an embassy,” she said, knowing full well that the Congressman was aware of the prohibition.
“We know,” he whispered conspiratorially. “We just don’t mind getting arrested if it means the news stations will cover the demonstration.”
She looked back at the Congressman’s partners in crime. Rachel Cohen, a preeminent theologian and human rights scholar, and Bill Sperling, a professor at Metropolis University’s School of Divinity, hardly seemed like the rabble-rousing sort setting out to add to their rap sheets, but she had no doubt that they intended to do exactly as they said. At least the three middle-aged activists weren’t likely to cause an altercation in their protest. They’d keep the ‘civil’ in civil disobedience. She turned back to the congressman. “You know I can’t bust you out of jail, right?” she asked.
Congressman Pennybaker’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he laughed. “We know,” he assured her.
********
“You wanted to see me, ma’am?” Enza asked as she stepped into the general commander’s office.
“Yes, Captain, please have a seat,” Talan replied, gesturing to one of the chairs across from her desk. It was still so odd to see the larger than life general commander behind a desk for most of her time. The room, the corridors, the base itself, all seemed like they were too small for her, like they were cramped and confining. As unnatural as the setting was, the general commander still excelled here, accomplishing what few others could even hope to do. The process of reintegration was proceeding more smoothly than anyone had expected. “I wanted to thank you for work here. You have taught my soldiers that war does not erase the difference between right and wrong. And you’ve saved lives. You have led by example, which is the finest hallmark of a great officer.”
“I merely did my job, ma’am,” Enza replied.
“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. But your work here is done. This unit is going operational. It is time for you to go home.”
Enza tried to contain her happiness at the thought of finally getting back to her niece. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said gratefully. She looked at the usually taciturn commander and noticed something different in her expression. It was nothing as unsubtle as a smile, but there was something there Enza had never noticed before – a look of honest gratitude and respect. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. Earning the general commander’s respect was no mean feat. It meant that much more, given how Enza had come to admire Talan.
Events of the past few months had served to profoundly alter her opinion of her superior officer. True to her word, Talan had never once pressured Enza to make exceptions or take liberties with what the law required of them. That day on the northern ridge, she’d proved that she too believed that their only hope for survival lay in doing the right thing, even when it was difficult. Even when the desire for vengeance was overpowering. She may have had no more insight into what the general commander loved, what she hoped for, or what she feared, but she knew what Talan believed. And she knew the lengths her commanding officer would go to to defend those beliefs.
“I believe there is someone waiting for you back in the main colony,” Talan said as she stood.
Enza stood up swiftly. “It has been an honor and privilege to serve under your command, ma’am,” she said as she saluted.
“The honor and privilege have been mine, Captain,” Talan replied as she returned the salute.
********
Ultrawoman sat in Ambassador Dalton’s immense office, studying the titles impressed in gold along the spines of the many books lining his shelves. Unsurprisingly, he seemed to be a student of history, but the shelf full of volumes on botany suggested he also had more eclectic interests. She looked up as he handed her a glass, its base reassuring heavy and solid, containing an unfamiliar amber liquid.
“Canadian rye,” he announced as he sat in the wingbacked chair across from hers. She’d never tried it before and probably wouldn’t have known that rye was anything other than the best bread to serve pastrami on had it not been for that Don MacLean song. She took an experimental sip. She’d never much been a hard liquor person, but Ultrawoman’s palate was immune to its sharp kick and she wasn’t liable to get tipsy, either. It was too bad she mused to herself. She’d had a hell of a week and being able to drown her sorrows would have been a welcome relief.
Dalton unbuttoned his suit coat with one hand and took a sip from his rocks glass. “It’s been a nasty couple of weeks, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” she agreed.
“Ambassador Schultz wanted me to express his country’s gratitude for your help.”
She nodded but said nothing. The German Ambassador had already sent Ultrawoman a hand written letter care of the Daily Planet. “General Rapin isn’t going to face any repercussions for helping me, is he?” she asked. “He only violated protocol because I asked him to.”
“The Directorate of Peacekeeping Operations is fully aware of the situation. Even the bureaucracy knows better than to challenge a commander for making sure that an honest to goodness hero received a decent burial.”
“Thank you,” she replied quietly, relieved to know that Rapin wouldn’t bear the consequences for her actions.
“There’s talk that the Council is going to reconsider its approach to the situation in Kinwara,” he said before taking a sip of his rye.
“What caused the change?” she asked as she leaned forward.
“A lot of things. Better news coverage. A group of distinguished religious leaders and American politicians getting themselves arrested at a demonstration. But most of all, you. And specifically, a certain photograph of you that is currently gracing the cover of half of the magazines published in the world.”
She looked down at the glass of dark liquid she held in both hands and said nothing. Tears blurred her vision.
“I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like,” he continued. “The death of a child is one of the most unfathomable evils in this world. But what if this one doesn’t have to be in vain? What if this one marks the turning point that forces the world to wake up and take notice? To finally act to stop the slaughter?”
“I hope you’re right,” she said as she stood up. “But it’ll be a cold comfort to that little boy’s mother. Some things can’t be made right. Some prices are too high to pay.”
********
Wearily, Enza stepped off her transport, her bag slung over one shoulder. Her boots thudded loudly on the gangway as she walked into the hangar. Through the crowd of crewmen, mechanics, and technicians, she spotted the tall communications sergeant walking slowly toward her. He stopped and smiled, stooping to lift her little niece into his arms. He pointed toward Enza and she watched as Thia’s face lit up. Suddenly, her tiredness melted away. Enza made her way through the mass of people toward them. She dropped her heavy pack as she held her arms outstretched. Lok Sim gently handed Thia to her aunt. Enza held the little girl tightly. “I missed you so very much,” she whispered.
“I missed you, too,” Thia replied. “Don’t go away anymore.”
Enza felt her heart break. “I am going to stay with you as long as I can,” she said. “But sometimes I have to go away. It’s my job.”
“Will you come back?”
“Always,” Enza whispered fiercely.
“It’s good to have you back, ma’am,” Lok Sim said with a small smile. He picked up her pack and shouldered it easily.
“Thank you, Sergeant.” She returned his smile. “It’s good to be home.”
********
Daros looked at the other two general commanders seated in his office. They were fine officers, dedicated to the service and to their mission of keeping New Krypton safe. He’d known Nen Fas since the younger man was a bridge officer on Daros’s Star Runner decades ago. Five years ago, at the first signs of insurrection, the military had scrambled to reorganize itself to fight an actual enemy for the first time in centuries. Ever since the final unification of the tribes of Krypton, the military had been relegated to emergency relief and scientific exploration and discovery. The drastic shift back toward focusing on combat was carried out by senior officers who had dealt with every possible disaster scenario imaginable since the founding of New Krypton, except war. Competent officers were needed to staff divisions that hadn’t existed in hundreds of years. Daros himself had been selected as the executive officer of the newly formed Joint Command. One of his first tasks had been to appoint Nen Fas to a position with the intelligence division. The younger man had been an ambitious and promising commander at the time. Within a few years, he’d been promoted, just as Daros had expected, and was made head of Joint Command’s intelligence unit.
He turned to the head of Air Command’s signals intelligence division, a fastidious woman with a reputation for efficiency. “Commander, what have you learned about the significance of these transmissions?” he asked, confident that he actually knew more than Cayis, but by how much was still a very live question.
“That they are significant seems beyond doubt,” she began. “The pattern, the level of activity, they all suggest that the rebels are preparing rather substantial operations. I have a team currently deciphering the messages and preparing them to be analyzed.”
“I want you to cease operations on this matter,” Daros responded.
“But sir, I cannot help but believe this should be our highest priority.” Her tone remained perfectly deferential, even as she challenged his order.
“The counter offensive currently being planned is being led by Joint Command, I want this project brought under my auspices,” Daros said firmly. He tented his fingers in front of him.
She leaned forward earnestly, clearly distressed at the thought of losing such an important project. “At least let me provide you with the resources and the personnel necessary to complete the work. Our signals intelligence division is more than four times the size of yours and I have soldiers with great expertise in this area.”
“My staff can handle the task,” Daros replied. His response wasn’t abrupt, it was far too polite for that, but he’d made it perfectly clear that he did not intend to entertain any alternate strategies on the matter. “I would like you to liaise with Commander Nen Fas to ensure that the information is efficiently gathered and relayed.”
“Aye, sir,” she replied.
“Commander Nen Fas, I want you to personally see to this transition. I believe Commander Cayis is correct in assuming that these messages are particularly sensitive and I do not want the fact that we are intercepting and decrypting them to become widely known.”
“Of course, sir,” his subordinate replied.
“Your discretion in this matter is appreciated. Commander Cayis, you are dismissed,” Daros said with a slight nod. She snapped up to attention and saluted before exiting the office. He waited until she closed the door behind her to continue. “I want daily update reports on your progress. I want to know exactly what we are dealing with before I take this to the First Ministers.”
“Sir, perhaps their office should be alerted to the nature of the work we are undertaking,” Nen Fas replied gingerly.
Daros folded his hands on his desk and leaned toward his subordinate. “We both know that the First Minister is not well. I do not wish to trouble his mind with idle speculation and potential threats until we have a better understanding of the danger.”
********
“We have reason to believe that Talan’s forces are planning an offensive. Have operations been compromised?” Rae Et asked, her voice unnervingly even.
Jen Mai swallowed roughly. “No, ma’am. The cell that was disrupted was isolated. The other operations have not been affected.”
“So you believe,” she challenged.
“Yes, ma’am,” he conceded. “But there is nothing to suggest the other groups have been compromised.”
“Yet. That cell fell apart because you were sloppy. Because you and your cronies are incompetent.” She stood up from behind her desk. “Do not fail again. My patience with you has worn thin.”
********
