From last time:
He smiled as he sat down. "The sooner I'm gone, the sooner you can finally get married to Ching. What about you two, have you thought about children?" Her face was suddenly drawn and pallid, an indescribable sadness settling in her eyes as she looked away. "I'm sorry, this is really none of my business," he said hastily.
"No, it's just that…well, I can't…"
He closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to remove his foot from his mouth. "Zara, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice soft and low. He looked up at her. "I'm such an idiot…"
She smiled unsteadily at him. "It's not your fault. And you couldn't have known. But we would have liked to have children…very much so. Ching has no family left in the world. No blood relatives. I would have liked to have given him that." The last part was whispered quietly as she looked away from him.
Clark stood up and closed the distance between them. He put his hands on her arms as she looked back toward him. "I know how Ching feels. Lois and I don't even know if we can have children. But even if we can't, it won't matter, because she is my family. She gives me somewhere to belong. You have to know that you do the same for Ching. That man couldn't possibly be more in love with you."
She allowed him to pull her into a fierce hug and neither said anything for a long moment. "You are a wonderful friend, Clark," she whispered at last.
********
New Stuff:
"What do you mean you don't think you're going to accept it?" he demanded gruffly.
"You heard me, Dalton," she replied, her tone impatient.
He snatched up her rocks glass as well as his own and refilled both with a generous pour of rye. "What exactly do you expect to prove with this little stunt?" he asked in exasperation as he set her glass in front of her on the coffee table. He took a swig of the dark liquor before sitting back down in his overstuffed chair.
"This prize is nothing but diplomatic hush money and you know it," she retorted. "It's a piece of cheap junk and if I touch it, it'll turn my skin green."
"You've never played the game by their rules before, why on Earth are you going to start now?"
"I beg your pardon?" Lois demanded archly.
"Make no mistake, this prize is political. It was when Martin Luther King won it. It was when Lech Walesa won it. It was when Ang Sun Suu Kyi won it. This is the Nobel Committee making a statement. You think this is a cynical ploy to make it look like you and the traditional power brokers are all on the same side, and it is. But you don't have to accept it on their terms. This 'piece of cheap junk,' can be a symbol of hope. It doesn't have to be real, but it has to represent something real. Something true. So yes, to the diplomats and professional snake oil salesmen like me, it's just another photo op and an 'atta boy,' but what do you think it will mean to the people of Kinwara? To the aid workers who risk their lives there? It means that someone is paying attention to their struggle and their plight. It means that they matter. It means that someone cares. It means you can drag a bunch of additional camera crews and vain reporters to Kinwara to make them cover your pet cause. It means even more people will become aware of what happened there and maybe they'll do something to help that country drag itself out of hell. Be the bigger person here."
She shook her head in rueful disbelief. "You know something, Dalton? You are the only person on the planet who talks to me like this. Haven't you heard about my anger management problem?"
"You going beat the tar out of me? Go for it. It'll make an amazing chapter in my memoirs," he replied as he drained the remaining rye from his glass.
********
"Lok Sim, what can I do for you?" the colony's chief engineer asked as she ushered him into her office.
"I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am, but when I was doing a routine review of the security logs, I noticed several rather odd events. Some structural schematics have been accessed recently, but I can't locate any authorizations or work orders related to these requests."
Rab Dun's eyes narrowed, the worry lines and creases in her expression growing deeper. "What sort of schematics?"
"Structural integrity plans, damage control assessments," Lok Sim replied. He clasped his hands in front of him as he looked down at his superior. Rab Dun was a rather slight woman, but she could still command his attention easily.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Nothing obvious, ma'am. I'd like to do some more investigating, though."
"Precisely my thought. I'm going to alert Commander Ching about this development. And I want you to perform a thorough review of the security logs. I want to know about any other unauthorized activities."
"Of course," he replied with a nod. "The accessed files are well outside my area of expertise, however. Should I have a structural engineer look at the files?"
"No," Rab Dun replied firmly. "If someone is improperly using their authorization to access files, I don't want to broadcast the fact that we're suspicious. For now, bring any odd occurrences directly to me."
"Yes, ma'am," Lok Sim responded.
********
"Ready?" she said with a slight smile.
He smiled back at her. It didn't reach his eyes, but she knew he was trying to get back to the point where he could smile genuinely and freely. He was still going through the motions, smiling when he knew he was supposed to smile, whether he felt like it or not. But he was finding his way, struggling in the darkness as he tried to find his place in the world again. "Let's go," he said simply as he extended his arm to her. They stepped out of the transport and into the docking bay. Their guards flanked them as they made their way to great hall in the center of the settlement.
The settlement's residents, leaders, and guests had all gathered and were awaiting the First Ministers' arrival. The governor stepped forward. "It is my great honor to welcome you to Jer Lom," he said, smiling proudly.
Zara allowed her arm to slip from Clark's as they bowed. "We thank you for the warm welcome," she said. She found herself separated from Clark as the settlement's agricultural specialists pulled him into a discussion of the new irrigation system. Zara listened politely to the presentations on the rebuilding effort and the new improvements and recently developed engineering techniques perfected at Jer Lom.
It was almost an hour before she ran into her co-First Minister again. She walked across the reception hall toward him, managing to dodge the local potentates who all wanted just a moment to explain the latest new development. Clark was looking off in another direction, completely unaware of her. As she approached him, she recognized what had caught his eye. A man crossed the hall in long, rapid strides toward General Commander Talan. Remarkably tall, he swept the commander up in an enthusiastic embrace that seemed to startle the other guests around them. The man finally stepped back, smiling broadly at Talan.
Zara glanced at Clark, surprised to see a look of quiet contentment on his face. "Who is that?" he asked quietly.
"With the general commander? I don't know," she admitted.
He nodded slightly, silently suggesting that they make their way across the room toward them. "Commander Talan, it is so good to see you again," Zara said.
The commander bowed graciously; the man beside her suddenly looked stunned. "Ma'am, sir, it is good to see you as well," Talan replied. "I would like to introduce you to my brother, Serick. Serick, the First Ministers of New Krypton."
Serick rushed to bow in greeting. "I am honored," he said.
"The honor is ours," Clark replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that Clark was a bit surprised by the revelation of the man's identity. "I've heard a great deal about you from your sister."
"And I about you, sir, and ma'am," Serick said. Zara could see the resemblance now in the shape of his nose and the line of his mouth, but his gray eyes were somehow softer than his sister's.
"Commander, we were told by the governor that your irrigation project will turn this settlement into one of the most productive agricultural establishments on the planet," Zara said.
"An entire team has been working on this project, so I can scarcely take the credit, but we are very hopeful, ma'am," Talan replied.
Clark turned to the other man. "Talan tells me you have two sons."
"And a daughter on the way," Serick responded, smiling with fatherly pride.
"How wonderful," Clark said, the honesty of the sentiment clear in his voice. "Congratulations to you and your wife."
"Thank you, sir."
The conversation continued pleasantly for a few minutes longer until Lieutenant Parth politely interrupted them to inform the First Ministers that it was time for their remarks. "It was so wonderful to meet you, Serick," Zara said to the commander's brother. "And to see you again, Commander."
"Please accept our best wishes," Clark added.
"Thank you," Talan replied.
"This has been a great honor, and a true pleasure," Serick said with a polite bow. "Thank you, sir. Thank you, ma'am."
Clark smiled as he held out his arm for Zara. They followed Parth to the front of the great hall, where most of the guests had already gathered in anticipation.
********
"I'm glad you're here," she said simply as she watched the First Ministers approach the front of the room.
"It's been too long," Serick said. He smiled good-naturedly as he draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently. His warm and openly affectionate nature was a rarity in their world, but at the moment, it didn't bother her in the least.
"More than two years," she replied.
"And for the last six months, haven't you been putting off coming to visit?"
"I haven't been putting it off. We've been busy."
"Older sister, when are you not busy?" he challenged.
She had no response and so merely shrugged. Talan looked up at her younger brother as he watched Kal El and Zara.
"I thought he would be taller," Serick said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Everyone looks short to you. *I* look short standing beside you," Talan replied.
"They seem like very nice people."
"They are," she agreed.
"I had no idea you knew them so well."
"I've had the opportunity to work rather closely with them for the last few years," she confirmed. The other guests began moving toward the front of the great hall, hoping to get closer to the podium where the First Ministers were standing. The two siblings were soon alone at the opposite end of the hall. She watched Kal El as he took his place beside Zara at the podium, feeling a small smile turn up the corners of her lips.
"Were you there with them at Silban?" her brother asked. She turned toward him to see him regarding her curiously.
"I was," she confirmed.
"Is it true then? Did he really rescue those people?"
She nodded. "He did. He risked his own life to save them. What he did there was incredible."
He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "You seem even more impressed with him now than you did last time we spoke of him."
It took her a moment to figure out how to respond. "Well, he's done so much…"
Serick's arm fell from her shoulder as he turned to look at her. "You're in love with him," he whispered almost conspiratorially.
Talan could feel the color drain from her complexion and her throat suddenly go dry. "I am not," she hissed.
Her younger brother grinned broadly at her. "You are," he insisted. She started for the door at the back of the reception hall, knowing he was following her. Outside, the twilight sky was violet and the very first stars were faintly visible.
"You're in love with him," he repeated, a little more loudly now that they were completely alone.
"Darling brother, would you shut up?" she replied.
His smile only grew brighter. "Do you have any idea how funny it is to see the most revered soldier on New Krypton flustered? You're turning as red as the rock."
"Serick!" She pronounced his name like a sharp rebuke.
"I'm sorry," he replied, his smile belying his supposed contrition. "But it is nice to see you thinking of something other than your work for a change."
"Would you stop?" she replied, exasperated by his fixation on this most awkward subject of conversation. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"I know that anyone besides the man who practically rules a planet would be intimidated by you, but you certainly know how to complicate love. He is technically married…"
"Forget the technicality, he's actually married," she said before she could even figure out why she was entertaining this line of thought.
He gave her a puzzled look. "Really? They seem quite comfortable with each other, but I didn't realize that their relationship was that close…"
"No, he was married before he came to New Krypton," she corrected.
"Oh," Serick replied. His teasing expression was replaced by a more serious one. "I'm sorry."
She arched a brow at him. "Why?"
"Because he's a good man and you deserve to be happy," he said simply.
"So does he. And he loves his wife as much as one person can love another. Why would I want to deprive him of that happiness?"
Her younger brother shook his head ruefully. "I'd almost forgotten how damn noble you can be."
"Was it that obvious?" she asked quietly as she stared down into the valley where the irrigation system she'd helped design was just coming online. The valley floor would soon be carpeted by green grass, another struggling sign of life on this barely habitable planet.
"How you felt about him?" Serick shook his head as he placed one large hand on her shoulder. "No. Well, not to anyone else, I imagine. But I've known you for more than thirty years. You're a difficult person to know, older sister, but not impossible."
She fought to hide the outward signs of the relief she felt. The last thing in the world she needed was for Kal El to surmise her feelings. "We should return to the reception," she said coolly.
"We did leave somewhat abruptly," he agreed. "But first promise that you'll come back home with me. Ama and the boys would love to see you and now that this project is done, you have no excuses."
Her first instinct was to demur, but she didn't even know why. "All right," she replied as they headed back into the hall.
********
"Ultrawoman, thank you for coming," President Lancine said in his quiet, distinguished tone as he stood up from the old wingbacked chair in his office. He took her outstretched hand between both of his and shook it warmly. His face was even more lined and weathered than she remembered. "I must say, you are by far the shyest Nobel Prize Winner in history. I have not seen a single interview of you."
"I've been busy," she demurred.
"I imagine you have been," he replied with a sad smile.
"What can I do for you, Mr. President?" she asked. Of all the world leaders she'd met, he was the only one she still felt like talking to. His quiet dignity and grace were humbling.
He gestured toward the chair opposite his own. "Firstly, I have not had the chance to thank you in person for everything you've done for my country. My people have a chance to know peace, because of what you have done for them. Thank you."
"I just wish I could have done more," she admitted softly.
Lancine sat back down in his chair, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee and tenting his fingers. "Ultrawoman, imagine a doctor who comes across a man who has just been shot. He has a chance to either chase down the gunman or to save the victim. If he saves the victim's life, do you blame him for letting the shooter escape?"
She nodded in understanding but said nothing.
"I have the strangest feeling that your recent silence and the alleged row at the UN donors' conference have something to do with what we have and have not accomplished here."
"Maybe," she replied, feeling like a little girl, being lectured by the school principal.
"Nobody wants justice for this country more than I do. These are my people and it is my responsibility to protect them. But we have a nation to rebuild, lives to put back together, and families to reunite. And if I can help accomplish that, then I hope history will forgive me for my failure to secure justice."
"President Lancine, you are a decent man and a good leader. There is hope for your country because of you."
"And there will be even more hope with your assistance. Accept the prize. Keep the world's attention here. And help us rebuild this country. We still need you. Please help us."
"I'll do whatever I can," she said as she nodded resolutely. "I promise." It was time to stop wallowing. To quit focusing on every failure. It was time to do her job.
********
"So what does this mean?" Clark asked as he paced in the First Ministers' quarters.
"I don't know, sir," Ching replied, making clear that they were playing their formal roles here. Clark and Ching weren't friends right now. Ching and Zara weren't lovers. This was the general commander in charge of intelligence briefing the First Ministers. "Lok Sim has discovered some anomalies; by themselves, we cannot determine whether there is a threat. But we are going to increase security, especially surrounding the trial."
"Keep us informed of every development," Zara said.
"Of course, ma'am," Ching replied with a solemn nod. "If it is all right, I'd like to authorize a few of my staff to aid in the investigation."
Zara looked at Clark, waiting for the almost imperceptible nod of his ahead in assent before saying, "we're agreed."
"If you require nothing further," Ching said, his hands clasped in front of him.
"Thank you, Ching," Zara replied. Ching saluted before leaving.
"I should go as well," Clark said. "Or else I'll be late for my meeting with Mar Dov."
"When do they expect you'll testify?" Zara asked.
"The trial starts next week. It'll still be a few weeks after that before they get to my testimony," he replied as he pulled on his greatcoat.
"Please let me know if there is any way I can help," Zara responded.
Clark smiled. "Thanks," he replied. "I will." Adjusting the cuffs on his wrists that he still found uncomfortable, he exited their quarters and made the short trip to their library, a pair of mute guards in tow. The guards took up their sentry duty beside the door as he entered the library. Enza was already waiting for him when he arrived. She stood from the table and saluted as he walked into the room. Her eyes were darkly circled and bloodshot from an apparent lack of sleep. Her whole body projected a weary sort of determination, belying the brutalizing schedule the trial preparations were forcing her to maintain.
"What do we have scheduled for today?" Clark asked. He took the seat directly across from hers at the library table.
"I thought we would review the cross examination, sir," she replied.
He frowned, trying to find a delicate way to proceed. "Would it be all right if Mar Dov reviewed the cross examination with me?" he asked gingerly.
She did her best to hide the look of disappointment that flashed across her face. "Of course, sir," she replied graciously.
"All right, then I guess we should finish up the direct, right?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," she replied. They began to go through the direct examination, reviewing the questions he'd now heard so many times he could anticipate their rhythm and meter. She'd warned him not to let his answers seem too rehearsed or forced and so he thought about everything before he said it. He didn't let his responses turn into canned speeches, even if it would have been easier to tune out, go through the motions, and just get through the whole ordeal on auto-pilot. If he could have recited the details, chapter and verse, like a story, like a narrative he'd heard and memorized, he wouldn't have to risk reliving the memories. He wouldn't get caught up in the feelings they stirred or the wounds they reopened. But the judges wouldn't have believed the wounds were real if he didn't reveal the scars, literal and metaphorical.
He'd already seen the trial exhibits they planned to introduce – the images from his medical records that made him look like a concentration camp refugee, like a sad, pathetic, bloodless sack of bones. They made him feel queasy and embarrassed. What kind of man wanted to admit that he'd been beaten so badly that he couldn't even lift his own head up? No one could have seriously doubted the physical injuries he'd suffered – the medical reports spoke for themselves – but they could sure as hell count on Nor's counsel to try to repudiate his explanation of how he'd come to receive those injuries.
"Did you escape from detention?" Enza asked.
He shook his head. "No."
"Do you remember anything about how your detention came to an end?"
"No," he replied honestly.
"Do you have any recollection of being released?"
"No," he repeated.
"Do you have any recollection of being rescued?" He could tell she was mentally ticking off the list of questions, making sure to hit every point while not allowing herself to rely too heavily on her notes.
"No."
"What is the last thing you remember about your captivity?"
"I faked being unconscious in an attempt to escape. I managed to knock one of my captors to the ground when they unchained me, but I didn't make it more than two steps before my knee gave out underneath me."
"And then?"
"I was beaten, and I lost consciousness," he admitted.
"What was the next thing you remember after that?"
He frowned. "Waking up, in a great deal of pain, in the hospital in the main colony."
"Good," she replied, breaking the rhythm of the question and answer. She pushed her chair away from the table, as though the physical distance would help her take the mental step back and refocus on the big picture.
"Are we going to keep going?" Clark asked.
Enza shook her head. "We've been at this for a few hours and Mar Dov will be here shortly," she said. Her eyes met his and he could tell she was holding something back. She opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing for a long moment. "Sir, may I ask you a question?" she finally managed.
"You've been doing nothing but ask me questions, Captain," he replied good-naturedly.
She gave him a nervous smile. "That's not what I meant, sir…"
"I know," he replied. "By all means, ask away."
"Why do you not want me to go through your cross examination with you? Have I done something to upset you, sir?" she asked. Her tone was hesitant, but he knew how much courage it took for a relatively junior officer to question her commander-in-chief.
"Absolutely not," he replied. "Enza, I've known you for three years. I trust you and I like you. Nor's lawyer is probably going to frustrate me and make me angry and I need to get used to that. I admire your skill, but I don't really think you can get that kind of reaction out of me. Mar Dov, on the other hand, I don't really like. You're right, he's a great lawyer, but he can irritate me inside of two minutes."
She smiled at him. "I understand, sir."
"Good," he said with a slight nod. "I imagine you have other work to do."
"Yes. I have to prepare some other witnesses. Survivors from Silban."
Clark nodded grimly. He certainly didn't envy her that task. "Then I won't keep you much longer. How's your family?" he asked, changing subjects entirely.
"They're well, sir," she replied.
"Please give them my best," he said.
"Of course, sir," she responded as she stood up. She saluted before retreating from the library.
