Okay, I decided to post the first part in order to get my muse's lazy butt working again. I plan on posting once a week if I can, more frequently if possible. Life has been a bear recently, mostly because I've been running in three directions at once, trying to get my brother settled into his new job, and arranging transporttion for him. Hopefully, that is now squared away and things may return to almost normal. (Hah! In my dreams!)
Anyway, here's part one. Feel free to nag if the mood strikes you.
Nan
Disclaimer: The recognizable characters and settings in this story are the property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a legal right to them, and I have no claim on them whatsoever, nor am I profiting by their use, but any of the new characters and situations are mine, and the story is copyrighted to me.
This is the latest in the "Home" series. Anyone who has not read them is advised that the story will make much more sense if you read at least the vignette, "Home". Basically, this is a soulmates-type of story, wherein Lori Lyons is the next incarnation of Lois Lane, at the end of the 21st Century.
**********
Home: Vendetta: 1/?
By Nan Smith
Rated Probably PG or Pg-13
"How's your back today?" Clark asked. "Any more false labor?"
Lori gave her husband a patient look. Honestly, she thought, for a man who had four children and numerous descendents past the grandchild stage, Clark "Superman" Kent was an absolute wreck!
Of course, the fact that their baby's due date had come and gone four days ago wasn't something that exactly excited her, either. The last month of pregnancy seemed to have been going on forever and, as each day passed with no signs of anything happening, the month seemed to crawl more and more slowly.
"It's okay," she said, taking pity on him. "Your air mattress is wonderful for getting rid of back pain." She leaned forward to put her arms around his neck. Her rounded belly made her lean forward in order to accomplish the feat, and the unborn baby kicked him sharply in the abdomen.
"Oops," Lori said.
Clark put his arms around her upper body and leaned his forehead against hers. "It's the least I can do for you. Do you know how much I love you, honey?"
She smiled and brought her head down to rest it on his shoulder. "I think so. Nearly as much as I love you."
"Nearly?"
"Well, as much, then."
"That's better." His arms tightened around her. "Are you sure you want to go to work today? You should be getting more rest."
She nodded. "I don't like being alone during the day -- not after Tempus. It's not likely that he'll try again, now that I'm wearing the time-traveler shield, but I'd rather be around people." She touched the little piece of jewelry on her collar. "I never thought I could be such a coward. I don't like to take it off at all."
"Well, since Arnie says it's powered by your metabolism, that's pretty smart," Clark said. "Besides, you're not exactly in the best shape for fighting off megalomaniac time travelers."
"Yeah, but that means it isn't on when I put it down. What if Tempus shows up while I'm in the shower?"
"Well, he never did with Lois," Clark said, "and Arnie's working on something to protect the apartment. In the meantime, we'll just have to be careful. I noticed that you're wearing the earrings I gave you, too. Good." He dropped a kiss on top of her head. "John said that you could stay at the office as long as you want, just so long as you take it easy." She felt him smile against her hair. "I get the feeling that he's almost as nervous as I am."
She couldn't repress a giggle. "It's just a baby, you know. It's not exactly a national crisis."
"Well," he said in a more serious tone, "I'm not so sure. Tempus had some reason for not wanting our baby to be born in this time period. I think there's more riding on this than any of us know."
"Maybe," she agreed. "I have an appointment with Ronnie tomorrow morning. Maybe she'll be able to tell us more."
Clark chuckled softly. "Babies have their own agenda. If there's anything I've learned over the years, it's that. If you make it to tomorrow, with luck you'll hold out through the family barbecue in the afternoon. If not, the whole clan will probably be at the birthing center, giving the staff a small nervous breakdown."
The image that remark triggered made her giggle. She straightened up and smoothed her business suit with one hand. "Are you finished eating?"
He nodded. "Just a minute and I'll have the debris cleaned up." The last word was accompanied by a whirlwind and by the actual count of five seconds the signs of breakfast preparation had vanished and Clark was handing Lori her briefcase and palm computer. "Ready?"
She nodded. "Ready." She slipped a hand into his. "You don't have to be so worried, you know. I'll tell you the second I think something is really happening."
He squeezed her hand. "I know, but I can't help it. This is a really big deal to me -- to all of us, really."
The vidphone chimed as they made their way toward the door and Clark paused. "Yes?"
The screen lit up with a picture of Lori's mother, wrapped in a dressing gown. She took in her daughter's appearance. "Hello, Lori -- Clark."
"Hello, Mariann," Clark said. He slipped an arm around Lori's shoulders. "Nothing yet."
Mariann smiled slightly. "So I see. I wanted to let you know that Robert and I will be able to make it to the barbecue, tomorrow, after all. Assuming," she added, "that Lori isn't in labor."
"That's great," Clark said. "We'll be looking forward to seeing you and Rob there." He glanced at his wrist-talker. "We have to go, or we'll be late."
"Of course," Mariann said. "I trust Lori's doctor said it would be acceptable for her to attend."
Lori nodded. "Ronnie will be there, herself, Mom. If I go into labor, at least I'll be in good hands." She cocked her head at her mother. "It's five AM there, isn't it? What are you doing up so early?"
"I know your editor doesn't like you to take personal calls at work," her mother said. "I didn't want you to get in trouble with him, so I wanted to call while you were still at home."
"John only objects to personal calls when someone does it all the time," Lori explained. "He doesn't mind the occasional one, and Clark and I don't abuse the privilege. Anyway, I'm glad you and Dad can make it."
Mariann actually smiled. "It all still seems a little unreal, but I suppose I'll get used to that, too. I expect you to introduce me to Annabelle Reyes, if she's there."
"She will be," Clark said. "But her real name is Annie Kent." He glanced at his wrist talker again. "We'd better go. We'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Mariann."
**********
"So, when are you going to agree to an aircar?" Lori asked, as she activated the restraint system in the Predator.
Clark grinned faintly. "I'm not going to get out of that, am I?"
"Count on it," Lori said. "Lois was right. I want an aircar."
"Lois liked to fly," Clark said. "She had an aircar of her own."
"Yeah, well, I love to fly, too, and you can't always be there to provide the transportation," Lori said, unarguably.
Clark shook his head. "I know. I was just hoping it would take you a while to figure out that I'm putty in your hands." He grinned. "How about after the baby's born?"
"How *long* after it's born?" Lori asked, suspiciously.
"A month?" Clark suggested weakly. "That's not unreasonable, is it?"
"Well," she said, darkly, "just as long as you don't postpone it any longer than that."
"I won't. I do want a chance to talk to Edward Olsen, though. He's one of Aaron's sons. Have you met him?"
"Yeah. He's the one with the reddish-brown hair who researches structural vibrations or something. His wife's a massage therapist and makes that great sushi for the family get-togethers."
"That's the one. Edward has six amateur titles in aircar racing. I'll talk to him about the kind of car we should look at."
"Just so long as it isn't some pokey little putt-putt," Lori specified. "I want one with some style. And Pegasus-power."
Clark grinned again. "I promise. I know when I'm licked."
"Fat chance of that," Lori said. She stretched slightly, digging her fists into her lower back.
"Are you okay?" Clark asked quickly. "No contractions or anything?"
Lori sighed. "No, just tight muscles."
Clark backed out of the parking space. "Well, it won't be long now."
"So they tell me. Are you *sure* that Kryptonian pregnancies are only a couple of weeks longer than ordinary human ones?"
Clark shrugged. "Kryptonian babies develop a little more slowly than human ones. You know that. That was why we fudged on your dates to everyone. Statistically Kryptonian pregnancies run two to three weeks longer but that's only statistics. A lot of it depends on the persons involved, and the pregnancy itself."
Lori resisted the urge to sigh theatrically. "I know; I know. And it's a good thing they catch up later, or people would have noticed something odd about the Kent clan a long time ago. But I'm over even my Kryptonian due date now."
"Rhonda said there's no sign of placental deterioration," he said. "You're coming along just like you should."
"I know," she said again, sounding dejected even to herself. "And I could go another week or two. I'm sorry," she added. "I'm whining like a two year old."
Clark chuckled. "You can whine to me any time you like."
**********
The traffic on the street, as expected, was heavy. Considering the number of people who telecommuted to work, it always amazed Lori that there were so many cars on the highways in the morning and afternoon. But then, she reasoned, there were plenty of jobs that required people to be there in person, including their own, although most of the time she and Clark weren't in the office and, considering the fact that there were so many people, it probably made sense. She hoped the Centauri colony worked out, though. A little emigration might be just the thing the planet needed. Of course, Gaia's Children would have another fit if anyone even suggested the idea officially. Sandra Callahan had sent her a nasty note after the Mayflower incident, blaming her for the coming Armageddon that they predicted that would supposedly wipe out the human race. Lori had promptly deleted the note. In the course of her job she tended to get occasional rude correspondence from various people. It was one of a number of occupational hazards.
It didn't make any difference what the subject was, or how sensible a solution to a problem might be, she thought. Somebody was bound to object to it, no matter what. She'd heard, however, that recruitment for the radical movement was way down after the plot to destroy the colony ship had been exposed. The leaders of the group -- at least the ones that weren't in Federal prisons, serving twenty-to-life -- weren't particularly happy about that, either, which didn't bother either her or her husband in the slightest. The investigation of Gaia's Children was still continuing, the last that she had heard, but that didn't stop the remnants of the organization from continuing to demonstrate and campaign for their point of view. After all, that was the way of democracy, Clark had pointed out, and she had been forced to agree -- but privately, she still thought the members of the organization were lunatics, to put it charitably. Trying to put the brakes on human exploration went against everything the human race had done for itself since their species was born. If the Kryptonians had done more exploration, maybe the destruction of their planet wouldn't have nearly wiped out Clark's species, and maybe the New Kryptonians wouldn't have had to settle for a barren, inhospitable world for their new colony. Of course, by now they might have found better places to live. They'd had a hundred years, after all. A lot could have changed in that length of time.
Clark braked to a stop behind a line of cars that extended forward as far as the eye could see. Lori craned her neck, trying to discern what the hold-up was. "What's going on?"
"There's a demonstration blocking the street four blocks ahead," Clark told her. "Gaia's Children."
"Oh for the love of --"
"Oh well," Clark said peaceably, "I'll pull into the parking lot just ahead and fly us in to work."
Even so, it took a good twenty minutes for them to inch forward twenty-five feet, which made it barely possible for Clark to pull the Jeep into the parking lot. One of the wheels went over the curb as it was, but nothing was damaged. A few moments later, they got out, locked the doors and walked casually across the lot toward an alley where Clark could make his transformation into Superman.
**********
Flying over the city some seconds later, Clark glanced down at the surging mob beneath them. The crowd had spilled over the boundaries set up for the demonstration and was blocking several streets leading into Metropolis's business district. The Metropolis Police were on the scene, attempting to bring the near-riot under control.
"Wow," Lori remarked. "I heard that they were staging a demonstration today but that's really over the top."
"Looks like the police are out in force," Clark said. "And there's Aaron. If you don't mind, I'm going to leave you at the Planet and come back to help out. The riot squad looks like it can use the help."
"Sure," Lori said. "Please be careful, though."
"I will." Clark glanced to his right as Superwoman went past in a red and blue blur. "There goes Lara. I guess the word's out."
"Yeah." Lori bit her lip.
Clark entered the stairwell of the Daily Planet and zipped at super speed to the newsroom floor. He set Lori gently down on the landing. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Be careful," she said again.
He gave her a quick kiss. "I will. Just don't pick this moment to go into labor; okay?"
"I'll do my best," she assured him.
**********
The monitors were on when Lori opened the stairwell door and entered the newsroom. John Olsen, her editor, was seated on the edge of Clark's desk, watching the screens. He glanced around as she came down the steps to the newsroom floor. "Still here, I see."
"Unfortunately, yes," Lori said.
"I guess Clark is out covering the riots?"
"Yes," Lori said. "He dropped me off here and went back." She nodded at the screen. "There goes Superman."
"Hey, Lyons, why are you still here?" Greg said. "I thought you were supposed to be on maternity leave."
"I was," Lori said. "Half time. Then somebody tried to kidnap me. I'd rather be here with a lot of people I know than alone in the apartment."
"You're joking, right?" Greg said after a startled few seconds.
"Why would she joke about something like that?" Andrea Waltham asked. "It's happened before, and this probably won't be the last time. You've been here for months; don't you know her by now?"
Barry Marston, the business editor, grinned at Greg. "You really need to pay more attention, Barker. Kent and Lyons don't get the big scoops by playing it safe, you know. Lori's had death threats from some of the biggest names in the business. She's setting a new standard. I hear you can't be considered a veteran investigative journalist these days without at least one death threat or kidnapping attempt to your name."
"I don't think it's a requirement," John said dryly. Barry snorted, but winked at Lori.
Lori dropped her shoulder bag onto her desk chair and crossed to the snack table. After a few seconds' debate between two doughnuts, she gave up trying to choose and took both. She returned to her desk, munching. "I thought I'd do a little research on Gaia's Children's more recent history," she told John, around the doughnut. "Clark's going to be writing the story on the riots out there, so I figure a sidebar with a summary of their origin and the highlights of the changes to their philosophy over time might be worthwhile for the readers."
"Good thinking," John said. He lowered his voice. "How are you feeling?"
"Hungry," Lori said. "Starving, if you want the truth. I think I'll order out for pizza once the rioters clear out downstairs."
"Fine with me," John said. "It might be a while, though. The demonstrations are all over the country. Apparently they're being coordinated by the central leadership."
"So what else is new?" Lori asked. "In my personal opinion, they ought to be on the government's watch list for terror activities. It isn't as if they haven't tried it before."
"Who knows? John said. "They may be. The government doesn't tell us everything they do, remember." He glanced at the images of demonstrators on the screen where one man was dousing himself with some kind of liquid. "I hope he isn't doing what I think he's doing."
"He's got a lighter," Andrea said, her voice choked with horror. "I hope the cops spot him before --" She broke off, turning away as the demonstrator ignited his lighter but at the same instant what appeared to be a hurricane blast of air hit the man, blowing out the lighter and leaving him with a coat of frost. An instant later, Superman had grabbed him, removed the lighter from his hand, and flown him out of range of the video pickup. Lori exhaled in a long "Whew!"
"I hope they keep an eye out for more of those," John said grimly.
"So do I," Lori said. "I wonder if their leadership authorized that."
"Wouldn't surprise me. They were willing to kill several thousand people by blowing up the 'Mayflower'. Why should a little thing like burning a few followers alive worry them -- especially if they can make a political statement?"
Lori suppressed the shiver that ran down her spine. The fact that Gaia's Children were fanatic enough to do things like this underlined the lengths to which the radical movement was willing to go to prevent humanity from colonizing other planets. Not that it would prevent it in the long run, but the thought of the horrors that could take place in the meantime made her skin crawl. Deliberately she turned away from the monitor screens and told her computer to search for anything that it could find on Gaia's Children from its inception to current time. While it was doing that, she tied it in to her laptop, which was at their apartment, and accessed the folder of documentation that she was amassing on the radical group. Of course the leadership would undoubtedly threaten lawsuits, but as long as she stuck to the provable stuff and made sure she drew no conclusions, leaving it to the readers to draw their own, the Planet was safe from legal action.
Twenty minutes later she finished the piece, copied it to her laptop at home for reference purposes and transmitted it to her editor's computer for his okay. That done, she got to her feet, intending to head for the snack table again.
A jolt nearly knocked her off her feet and a terrifying rumble vibrated through her body. The Daily Planet building shook and swayed and she saw the shatterproof glass of the big main window that overlooked the city of Metropolis flexing and shimmering at the force of the explosion. Andrea screamed. Plaster rained from the ceiling onto Lori's desk.
John came out of his office like a shot. "Everybody to the stairs!" he shouted.
"What is it? What's happened?" Carla Rhodes burst out of the supplies storeroom.
"Hurry!" John grabbed the intern and thrust her toward the stairs. "The Planet's been bombed!"
Lori headed for the steps, stopping at the Events desk to haul Eva Potts to her feet. The girl crouched on the floor, her face white with terror. "Come on! We have to get out of here!"
Responding to the voice of authority, and the grip on her wrists, Eva obeyed and stumbled toward the steps. Greg pulled open the door and waved people urgently through. "Hurry up! Come on, everybody! Move!"
"Don't panic!" John's voice echoed through the room, over the crashes and unidentified sounds that told Lori that parts of the building were collapsing. "Hurry! Help each other!"
Lori pushed Eva through the door. "Down the steps! Get out of here, fast!" She looked back, scanning the room, thankful that the riots had prevented most of the staff from coming in this morning. "John!"
"Go on!" her editor yelled. "I'm right behind you!"
"Come on!" Lori shouted back. "The ceiling's coming down!"
Another voice, easily heard over the rumbles and crashes, gave her a rush of relief. Superman was suddenly there, supporting the cracking roof. "Go on! I've got it!"
John hustled the last of his staffers through the door, nearly pushing Lori ahead of him. "Move! Don't run! Just keep moving!"
Thanking whoever the designer of the Planet had been that the actual newsroom was only on the fifth floor, Lori descended the steps as fast as the crush of bodies would allow. From above them came the sounds of people from the upper floors coming down after them. The stairs shivered and Lori wondered if they would withstand the weight of all the people. Clark would make certain that the stairs held, she thought, knowing all along that the task might be too much even for Superman. But maybe the others would help him. Surely the bombing of the Daily Planet would draw every super-powered member of the family for hundreds of miles around if they weren't occupied with the other rioters and if no other buildings were bombed.
The closeness of the stairwell was stifling with all the people in here. The air felt as if there was no oxygen in it, and she had to remind herself that there was plenty of air. It was just her natural dislike of being squeezed from all sides and the terror from the mob of jostling people, pushing from above in their desperation to get out of this collapsing structure. Clark would see to it that she got out of here, she reminded herself. He would do everything in his power to make sure that everyone got out alive -- those that hadn't been killed in the initial explosion. The thought of someone in the Gaia's Children organization callously setting a bomb that would kill dozens of anonymous people produced a surge of anger and she used it to stoke her energy reserves to keep on her feet long enough to get out of this cramped, stifling stairwell amid the mob of her terrified coworkers. She could smell smoke and prayed that the building wasn't burning.
There was light below. At last, they were coming to the ground floor emergency exit. Lori hung on to the handrail as she descended the last flight of steps and emerged from the stairwell into the open air. A pair of hands seized her and rushed her away from the building. Looking up, she saw John, grim-faced, manhandling her to safety.
"John," she managed, "I'm all right. See about the others."
"Our people are out," he said. "This way. Clark wants you as far away from this as possible. He and the others are doing everything they can. The fire department and police are there. They don't need us."
"I'll stay back," Lori said. "You don't think I'd risk my baby for anything, do you?"
A groundcar pulled up beside them and the window rolled down. A stunner pointed at them from the window. The stunner hummed and John flung himself backward. The stunner beam must have brushed him, though, for he staggered and fell to the sidewalk. "Get in," a voice said. "Move it, Lyons, or I shoot and drag you in."
Lori stared at the stunner and then at the face of the man holding it. "Fred!"
**********
tbc
