From part 33:
The elevator doors opened onto the lobby, and she let him go reluctantly.
As they stepped out of the elevator, he bent down to whisper in her ear, “I’m afraid we’ll have to eat with the locals, honey. My take-out picking-up abilities are offline.”
She giggled. That was her Clark, dealing with what had to be a frustrating situation with grace and humor. She wrapped one arm around his waist. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they ambled across the lobby, only separating to go through the revolving doors at the main entrance.
---
The Girl Next Door, part 34:
Their visit to Dr. Klein at S.T.A.R. Labs didn’t net them much in the way of new information, but it was an interesting visit nonetheless. Lois filed much of what happened under the mental heading of ‘things that might be good to know some day.’
They arrived at the facility and were buzzed in to a reception area, where they were asked to present IDs and sign a visitor’s log. They were then issued security badges and escorted to a small conference room, where they were assured someone would be with them shortly.
While they waited, Lois occupied herself with scanning through the walls around them and describing what she saw to Clark in a low voice. The front area, closest to the reception desk and their conference room, seemed to be mostly business offices. But beyond that, there were what looked like suites of labs, all with small offices attached. Based on the wide variety of equipment in the different labs, it appeared that many diverse types of research went on here.
After a short time, a clean-cut young man – if you discounted the long ponytail - in a long white lab coat entered the conference room. Introducing himself as Dr. Klein’s graduate student, Tom Welch, he led them down the hall and through a second secure door, then up a flight of stairs to one of the bigger lab suites.
Dr. Klein was a youngish, balding man with an appealing smile. He shook their hands in turn, welcomed them, and repeated – almost verbatim - the information that Bill Henderson had faxed them earlier. There was very little else he could tell them, though, except that iron meteorites were certainly available in rock shops.
“Or even in fields, if you’re willing to do some searching, and quite often, some digging,” he added. “If you watch the Perseids in the summer, you could conceivably vector potential landing sites based on observation. Of course, meteorite *finds* are much more common than meteorite *falls*. The Great Plains is a good place to look, you know. A lot of rocks and meteorites that were buried for years were exposed during the dustbowl era, and many of those are still on or near the surface. Australia is another good place to look –“
Lois glanced at Clark; he was trying to suppress a smile.
“Uh, Dr. Klein…”
“Of course, metallurgy, astrology, and geology aren’t my main areas of study, however,” the doctor rattled on. “My main interest was originally in medicine, although I’ve moved pretty much to the molecular level. But I have my hobbies –“ he smiled at them, “as do we all, I’m sure. I’ve always enjoyed biochemistry, for instance, and I’ve recently been dabbling in astrobiology and xenobiology. Oh, and computational physics.”
Oblivious to their incredulous expressions, he continued happily, “Anyway, those interests have spilled over into my work, somewhat. That’s been easier here in Metropolis, I suppose, than in any of the other S.T.A.R. Labs cities. This branch has become a sort of all-purpose research center over the past few years – much more so than any of the other branches. In addition to the usual things, we handle most of the more unusual requests from all over the country, most of which ultimately come to me.”
He paused. “I hope that doesn’t sound like I’m boasting,” he said earnestly.
“Oh, no,” Clark said quickly. “I’m sure it’s an advantage for both the facility and for you…”
Dr. Klein smiled, but was already moving on to his next subject.
“You’ve met Superman, right?” he asked somewhat abruptly.
Lois and Clark glanced at each other. “Once or twice, yes,” Lois said cautiously.
“I wonder if he’d give me an opportunity to study him?” Dr. Klein asked eagerly.
“Uh…” She glanced at Clark again.
“I don’t think he’d be interested in being a research subject, Dr. Klein,” Clark said firmly.
“Oh, well - not a research subject, of course,” the doctor replied. “I meant…”
He stopped abruptly, eyes widening behind his glasses. “Wait - research subject? Like… Like a lab animal?” He drew a shocked breath. “Oh, no, no. No,” he repeated anxiously. “That’s not what I meant at all.” He shook his head. “Like a… You mean… dissect him like a frog? Good heavens, no. No, no, no,” he repeated again, almost wringing his hands. “No, you’ve got the wrong idea. I meant… When I said study him, I meant I want to help him,” he assured them earnestly.
“Help him? With what?” Lois asked.
“See, I have this theory…” the doctor said, beaming. “I think much of Superman’s physiology is based on solar power…” He gestured at some almost totally illegible mathematical calculations on the white board above the desk. “Here, see? It’s absolutely fascinating…”
“Dr. Klein…” Clark began.
“I think the sun acts like a… battery re-charger,” the doctor rambled on.
“Dr. Klein?” Clark repeated more insistently.
“…His cells store up the solar energy, while –“
“Dr. Klein!” This time, both Lois and Clark spoke together.
“Hmmm? Oh –“ Dr. Klein looked up, blinked at them, and then laughed somewhat self-consciously. “I’m sorry. See, the thing is,” he continued earnestly, “Superman’s physiologic processes are quite different than the average person’s – well, they must be, or he couldn’t do the things he does. What I’d like to do is learn more about that if I can. For him. Sort of like a…” He hesitated, then continued almost shyly, “like his personal physician. Oh, I know he doesn’t get sick,” he hurried on, “but it might be helpful to know… well, how he works. In case he ever needs to know…”
Clark frowned. “Do you know of something that could potentially hurt Superman, Dr. Klein?” he asked, beating Lois to the question by a hairsbreadth.
“Oh, no. No, no - I doubt there is anything that can hurt Superman,” the doctor said sincerely. “Although I suspect that at least part of the criminal element is searching for a way to harm him,” he added darkly.
Lois shot a quick glance at Clark, who looked slightly alarmed. The Superman tests weren’t supposed to be common knowledge.
“Although Detective Henderson hasn’t said anything, I do believe that this unusual ammunition he’s obtained is the product of some deranged mind,” the doctor continued, oblivious to any undercurrents. “And it almost certainly involves Superman. Why else go to the considerable – very considerable – expense of obtaining adamantium? Notwithstanding the sheer *difficulty* of getting a hold of any of it in the first place, regardless of how much money one has…”
“So… you suspect that someone is… searching for a substance that could harm Superman?” Lois asked tentatively.
“Yes, although I believe it’s a fruitless endeavor,” the doctor replied.
Both Lois and Clark could have told him otherwise, but neither of them knew *what*, exactly, the mysterious substance – if it was, in fact, a substance – was.
“But I was an M.D. first, you know – a medical doctor,” Dr. Klein was continuing. “They teach us preventive medicine.” He shrugged. “These days, I do mostly catch-all research. You know - if it doesn’t fit the mold, give it to Bernie. He’ll figure it out.” He smiled slightly. “I’m good at that. But - I’ve always believed in being prepared, so…” He trailed off.
Lois and Clark looked at each other again. The man seemed sincere – there was a sort of childlike enthusiasm about him that reminded Lois of Jimmy.
“Anyway…” Dr. Klein said somewhat awkwardly, “if you wouldn’t mind suggesting it to him…” He drew a deep breath. “I, personally, can’t help my fellow man much on a one to one basis - but I can help make sure their hero stays healthy and happy.”
Lois smiled at him. Beside her, she was aware that Clark was doing the same.
“We’ll mention it to him the next time we see him,” she said.
The doctor beamed. “Good, good. I’d really like to meet him. He’s doing good work.”
Clark rose to his feet and offered Dr. Klein his hand. “Thank you for all your information, Dr. Klein.”
“Oh, Bernie – please,” Dr. Klein said.
Lois had also risen to her feet, and offered her hand. “Yes, thank you… Bernie.”
“You’re welcome,” Dr. Klein – Bernie – replied, and with another reminder that Superman could contact him any time, he escorted them back to the security door between the labs and the business offices.
They solemnly turned in their security badges at the reception desk, signed out in the visitors log, and exited to the street. Once there, Lois looked at Clark, who looked back at her soberly for the space of a millisecond. Then both were shaking their heads and chuckling. “That was quite an… interesting interview, Clark,” Lois said. “I’ll bet, back in his college days, Bernie was a lot like Jimmy.”
Clark laughed, tucking her hand through his arm as they began to stroll up the street. “I’ll bet you’re right, Lois.”
He glanced down at her and said more soberly, “He’s got a pretty keen brain under that absent-minded researcher manner, though. I suspect he might be pretty darn helpful if we figure out what it was that made me sick. And I guess Superman could do a lot worse than have Bernie Klein as his personal physician…”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to do some more digging before we really involve him, but I think it might be a good idea for Superman to stop in at S.T.A.R. Labs at some point and meet Bernie.”
---
Neither of them felt like taking a cab, and S.T.A.R. Labs was only a few blocks away from the Daily Planet building, anyway. They were walking - strolling, really - through Centennial Park when Clark stopped suddenly.
She took several more steps forward before she realized he’d stopped. “Clark?”
He looked at her, wonder and a smile in his eyes. “My powers are back. Completely,” he said softly.
“Oh!” She sagged with relief. “Oh, I’m so glad. How do you know? I mean, -“
The overcast morning had given way to a rainy noon, and now, in the late afternoon, it was raining steadily enough that the normally crowded park was almost deserted. There was no one within hearing – or sight – of them at the moment, so they could talk relatively freely.
“I can… hear stuff.” He touched his ear. “And I can… feel it.” He frowned, trying to find a good way to describe it. “It was like a… background noise. Like… a low-level hum of machinery that you don’t notice until it’s gone. I never noticed it before – but once the powers were gone, there was… That ‘hum’ was missing. I could *feel* it missing.”
She had nothing against which to gauge what he was describing, having never lost her powers. She was always conscious that the powers were there, but Clark wasn’t describing a… conscious knowledge. He was talking about a physical feeling. “So… even it you weren’t deliberately using a power… You could tell they were gone?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I could… *feel* them missing,” he repeated. He looked at her seriously. “I didn’t like the way it felt.”
“Not the actual… sickness.”
He nodded. “Right. I mean, that wasn’t any fun, either, but this was like… part of me was gone.”
Part of him *had* been gone. She had realized, earlier, that regardless of how normally they lived, how they’d grown up, their unique abilities had played a major role in defining them. And while Clark liked to live like an ordinary guy, he was an ordinary guy who had never experienced pain or illness.
Not ordinary at all. He’d probably only rarely felt true hunger or exhaustion, if at all. Certainly she never had.
But something had changed all that for Clark.
“Your parents said the sickness part was like a 24-hour flu,” she said. “Do you think it was some kind of virus or something?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I still think we’re immune to any sort of infectious agent. I’ve lived in places where illnesses like malaria or AIDS were endemic… Where unnamed and lethal viruses lurked, appearing rarely but catastrophically in villages in remote places in Africa. And in other places, with other infectious agents. Rabies. Leprosy. Lice.” He smiled slightly. “Fleas. Nothing ever affected me.”
“Last night, I researched your symptoms,” she said hesitantly. “There were at least a couple of references to radiation poisoning… Do you have any experience with any kind of radiation? Could it hurt us?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t know.” He gave her a half grin. “Until yesterday, I would have said no. I’ve been in space, unprotected from the sun’s rays. I’ve helped at a – small, but still dangerous – radiation leak at a nuclear plant… Nothing’s ever hurt me.”
“Until yesterday.”
He nodded. “Until yesterday. Now we know, definitely, that there *is* something out there that can hurt us. And… there could be other things, too. Something else we’ve never heard of. For instance - although it can’t hurt us - we never heard of adamantium, either.”
She wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling almost cold. Whatever it was – he hadn’t been exposed to it for very long. Even if it had been present from the start of the bank robbery – the whole thing had taken maybe an hour and a half. What if he – they – came across it again? What if, like radiation, the effects were dose-related? Could the unknown substance eventually permanently remove their powers? Could it… kill them?
They had resumed walking slowly along the path; now she stopped and looked at him. “Oh, Clark.” She drew a deep breath, then expelled it in almost a sob. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He stopped too, and drew her into his arms. “I am okay, Lois.”
He was okay – now. But he hadn’t been. He’d been vulnerable, and for the first time since she’d discovered her own invulnerability, she was realizing that she’d subconsciously equated invulnerability with immortality. And while she’d spent most of her life living around her abilities, trying to blend in, she’d never actually thought of who she was without them. Those abilities were part of who she was. Who they were.
She tightened her arms around him. “I’m glad it wasn’t permanent,” she whispered, following her train of thought.
“Me, too,” he whispered back.
Somehow, what she’d said sounded wrong. She’d said she was glad he hadn’t lost his powers permanently… “Oh!” She pulled a little away, looking up at him. “Not because… Not because I would love you any differently if you were an ordinary man,” she began hurriedly.
He smiled down at her. “I know what you meant, sweetheart.”
---
Centennial Park had a wide, paved path circling its perimeter, frequented by joggers and bicyclists during the day, although it was deserted right now because of the rain. There were also many narrower paved walks throughout the park, connecting fountains and benches and picnic areas, playgrounds and reflecting pools. Lois and Clark passed several of the small fountains as they continued on toward the Daily Planet.
They had passed the big central fountain and had reentered the surrounding trees on one of the paths when they both heard the distant, sudden squeal of brakes. It was followed almost immediately by the sounds of vehicle hitting vehicle hitting vehicle - dull metal crunches, like giant steel dominoes falling. An almost musical jangling hail of breaking glass played background to the discordant mix of shouts, screams, and the bray of a jammed car horn.
Clark tugged on his tie, glancing swiftly around. They were still in among the trees, and no one else was in sight. “I have to go,” he said urgently.
He did need to go. She knew that. But irrationally, she wanted to grab him, hold onto him. To hold him fast and protect him –
But she couldn’t do that.
But…
She could go with him, watch over him.
“I’ll come, too, Clark. As a reporter. I’ll meet you there,” she said hurriedly.
“No!” he said almost fiercely, reaching for her. “No, Lois,” he said more gently, holding her upper arms as if she might fly away if he released her. “Please, sweetheart… What if it’s another test? We can’t take the chance – if we were both affected by… whatever that was…”
He was right.
He was right, and she felt a surge of anger toward their unknown adversary. If it wasn’t Lex Luthor, who was beyond any earthly punishment, then whoever it was had better hope that Superman got to him – or her – first, and not Lois.
She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them and drank him in. “Be careful,” she said, then whispered, “*Be careful*, Clark.”
He pulled her close for a moment and kissed her; it was swift, but she felt his tightly leashed passion. “I will - I promise,” he said, and was gone, spin-changing into Superman as he left the ground.
She made her way back to the Daily Planet on autopilot, listening to the sounds of the accident. Trying to piece together what was happening.
When police and rescue personnel began arriving, sirens blaring, she tuned out for a few moments, which was fortunate since she was poised to cross the busy street in front of the Daily Planet building. It was hard to decide which would be worse – trying to explain any lack of injuries to the inevitable crowd who would gather if she were hit by a car, or trying to explain to a typical Metropolis cabdriver the damage to his chariot if she were hit by a cab.
She resisted the urge to listen to the unfolding rescue scene as she dutifully – but grumpily - crossed with the light, in the crosswalk, dodging slow-moving shoppers and an overloaded dog-walker in a sea of wagging tails.
But she tuned in again as soon as she was back on the sidewalk on the Daily Planet side of the street. As she crossed the Planet’s lobby, it sounded like the rescue personnel were taking charge of many of the victims, leaving Clark to free the ones who were trapped.
By the time she exited the elevator into the newsroom, she was almost convinced that the accident wasn’t another setup.
The newsroom TV monitors were tuned, as usual, to LNN. The news channel had reporters on the scene, reporting live as Superman and the city’s police and firemen worked to free, treat, and transport the injured.
With visual proof that Clark was okay, she should have been able to work. She *tried* to work, ruthlessly suppressing her anxiety for Clark’s safety.
This was no way to live, after all. If they – she – spent every single waking moment worrying about what *might* happen, she – they – would get nothing done. They just had to believe that, most of time, Superman was really helping real people, in real need.
Clark was fine. She could see it right there on the TV monitors. He was *fine*.
This time…
No! Enough of that.
---
She had doggedly – Mad Doggedly? - managed to put her worry out of her mind – well, push it well to the back, anyway - and was finally making some slow progress on a sidebar Clark had started earlier this morning when someone sat down in her visitor’s chair. She looked up to see Ralph, wearing a smile as oily as his hair.
“So, Lane,” he began in a gratingly fake friendly voice. “Don’cha think you’re taking this whole partner thing a little too far?”
“I beg your pardon?” she asked icily. It had no visible effect on him.
Really, the man must have very few brain cells. Anyone with more than a dozen knew that retreat was the best option when Mad Dog Lane spoke in that dangerously low, cold tone.
“Hey,” Ralph said expansively, shifting around in the chair and leaning back, trying to effect – and failing miserably – a casual and sophisticated air. “Everybody knows what you and Kent are *really* doing when you aren’t here, you know.”
Lois’s eyes narrowed as she sized up the distance between Ralph’s face and her fist. Between the man’s rear and her foot.
“We all saw you in the small conference room yesterday, after all, playin’ kissy-face, and –“ he continued, apparently unaware of his imminent fate.
He was cut off by Cat, of all people, while Lois was still assessing her options.
“Shut up, Ralph,” the older woman snapped at him, appearing at the opposite side of Lois’s desk without warning. “Go back under your rock before I find Perry and remind him you’ve already been written up twice for inappropriate comments.”
As he glared at her, she added, “Three times and you’re out, you know.”
“Man, I was only kiddin’,” Ralph whined as he got clumsily out of the chair. “None of you dames can take a joke,” he grumbled, slouching off toward his own desk.
Cat moved around Lois’s desk, made a show of brushing off the chair Ralph had vacated, and then dropped into it without being invited. She leaned back much as Ralph had done, but unlike Ralph, she looked composed and elegant.
Lois eyed her. “Thanks,” she said gruffly, then, “You *do* know I can fight my own battles, Cat?”
The gossip columnist grinned at her. “I’m aware of that.”
“Then, why…”
Cat smiled ruefully. “Why did I step in, when normally I’m more inclined to hassle you myself?”
Lois found herself smiling back at Cat. “Yeah.”
“You remind me of me when I was younger, in a lot of ways, Lois. I had that fire.” Cat paused as Lois cocked an unbelieving eyebrow at her. “Well, maybe not.”
Lois laughed - she couldn’t help it.
Cat grinned at her, then continued. “Seriously? Clark’s a nice guy - one of the few really nice guys out there, and it’s obvious how he feels about you.” She sobered. “And it’s equally obvious - to me anyway, but observation is my business…”
She inspected her nails, then looked up at Lois. Unsmiling, she continued, “…And it’s equally obvious how you feel about him. More importantly - you’ve been a loner for a long time, haven’t you?”
Lois nodded mutely.
Cat nodded. “Yeah. Well, I know how that feels. There was a time when I was utterly alone… I spent most of my teenage years in foster homes…”
She trailed off, remembering, before straightening up and refocusing on Lois. “Well, it was a long time ago. You don’t want to hear about it; I don’t really want to talk about it… The bottom line is, *you* don’t have to be alone anymore… And it seems to me you don’t want to. So… I just wanted you to know that I’m on your side on this.”
Lois looked at her. “Thanks.”
Cat nodded.
Lois smiled suddenly. “But I’m not telling you anything about him.”
Cat laughed. “Not a single little juicy detail, huh?” She shook her head, still smiling. “You’ve got it bad, kid.” She made to stand up. “Well, I’d better get back to work.”
Lois nodded, then, “Cat?”
“Yeah?” The older woman paused.
“Does Perry really have a three times and you’re out policy?”
Cat laughed. “Nah - I made that up. If it were true, Ralph would’ve been canned a long time ago. He probably passed his third warning the first year he worked here; I think he’s in the triple digits by now. The only reason Perry keeps him around is because every time he sends Ralph to sensitivity classes, he makes him pay a fee.”
“I thought all those classes were free,” Lois said. Certainly the self-defense classes she’d taken were free.
Cat laughed again. “They are. Perry puts Ralph’s fees in the office kitty – I think Ralph has single-handedly footed the bill for the last three Christmas parties.”
As Lois laughed, Cat stood up, gave her a little wave, and walked off.
---
To be continued
