Chapter Eighteen
>>>Tuesday, 1:10 PM
Perry’s whistle sliced through the newsroom clatter. “Hey! You people listen up! We got a dynamite story and sidebar on Lex Luthor and his companies going out tomorrow morning. This is a Daily Planet exclusive, folks! No one else has interviewed Lex Luthor one-on-one for at least five years, but our own Lois Lane got the story! And when you read that interview, make sure you take in Clark Kent’s sidebars on Luthor’s companies. They’re both textbook examples of what a Daily Planet story is supposed to look like.”
He pointed to Lois and then Clark. “These two are a great team, people! Look for fantastic work from them in the future!”
Perry led the group in applause, most of which was genuine. Lois wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but in the past few weeks she’d mellowed more than most of the staff would have believed possible, and Clark was well liked and still had everyone’s sympathy vote. Added to that was the famous Luthor ‘wall of silence’ which had shut out every reporter in the state until Lois Lane had breached it.
She looked at Clark and thought to him, -* If I didn’t know better, I’d think all this adoration was genuine. *-
-* Most of it is. Besides, a reporter is only as good as his or her last story. Enjoy this while you can. You’ve earned it. *-
Her smile softened. -* Thank you. *-
-* You’re welcome. *-
Perry chose that moment to lift his hands and bark out, “All right, let’s get back to work now! This isn’t a grammar school play, it’s a newsroom!” He turned and waved one hand above his head. “Emerson! Pierce! In my office now!”
At least it’s not me, thought Lois with a wry grin.
“Lois?”
The voice at her ear startled her. She spun her chair around to see Jimmy Olsen standing before her, holding a thin manila folder.
He lifted a hand in apology. “Hey, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I have that information you wanted on the gun smugglers.”
She immediately forgot her fright. “Great!” Then she looked at the folder and the paucity of its contents. “That’s it? After all this time, that’s all you have?”
His brow drew down. “Yes! That’s all that I have! That’s all that’s out there to be had!” He slapped the folder down on the desk. “And maybe you should do your own research from now on if that’s how you feel about it!”
Jimmy spun on his heel and stalked away, but Clark intercepted him before he escaped the floor. “Jimmy, wait! Lois wasn’t mad at you, she was just upset that there’s so little information available.” He looked over Jimmy’s shoulder. “Right, Lois?”
-* Tell him, Lois! We need his help on this story and in the future. *-
She frowned but haltingly complied. “Yeah, Jimmy, I – this story means a lot to me. To us. I’m sorry I took out my frustration on you. I – I didn’t mean to belittle you or your efforts. I know you’ve worked hard on this.”
Jimmy didn’t smile, but he did look mollified. “Okay. I’m sorry I slapped the folder down like that. I’m just frustrated because I couldn’t get anything more for you.”
Lois blew out a breath and put her hands on her hips. “It’s okay, Jimmy, I know you did your best. Even great hackers have limits.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” Jimmy’s eyebrow twitched. “Hey.” His face lit up. “Hackers. Crackers and hackers! You know, that’s a great idea!”
“What’s a great idea?”
“Lois, you’re a genius!” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Look, you two let me know what else you’re going to need after you go through what’s in the folder and I’ll get the Dangerous Boys to take a whack at getting it.”
Clark frowned. “Wait a minute, Jimmy! Poking around for anything related to this story could be very dangerous. We don’t want your friends getting hurt.”
Jimmy whacked Clark on the chest with the back of his hand and laughed. “You’re kidding, right? These guys can get in anywhere! And no one will ever know they were there.”
Lois touched his elbow. “Jimmy, Clark’s right. This info isn’t worth getting people hurt. You’ve got the protection of the Daily Planet, but the Dangerous Boys are out there hanging in the wind all by themselves. We can’t protect them like we can you.”
Jimmy’s voice lowered in volume but not intensity. “Look, you guys, I wouldn’t ask them to do this if I thought they’d get hurt. Anyway, they love this kind of cloak-and-dagger stuff. You should have seen Harry when we pinned down those stock brokerage embezzlers last month and – uh, never mind. Just believe me when I tell you that they’ll be as happy as a mosquito at an overbooked nudist camp.” He winked at Clark. “Besides, I still haven’t had that date with Morgana, and if I bring in a project this interesting, she’ll just about have to say ‘yes’ the next time I ask her out.”
Lois gave him a one-sided grin. “So you have an ulterior motive, huh? I can understand that.” She turned to her partner. “Clark, what do you think? As long as they’re very, very careful, that is.”
Clark frowned, then slowly crossed his arms and nodded. “Okay, Jimmy, but make sure you let them know not to take any chances. If they hit any security barriers or firewalls they can’t get past without setting off any alarms, they don’t go there, no matter what information they might get.”
“Wow! That’s great!” He forced his voice down. “Sure, CK, I’ll tell them – “
Clark took a firm step forward and put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I mean it! I don’t want anyone – and I mean anyone! – to get hurt because Lois and I are chasing a story. Understand me?”
Jimmy lifted his eyebrows and lost his smile. “Man, you’re intense today. Too much caffeine this morning or what?”
“Jimmy – “
“Okay! I promise!” Jimmy’s hands lifted in surrender. “No dangerous intrusions, no tracking back to the source, no nothing. We won’t even disturb the mice.”
Lois frowned. “There are mice living in the Internet computers?”
Clark and Jimmy turned to her in unison, then together their faces widened into smiles. Jimmy ducked his head and said, “Sure, uh, Lois, CK, I’ll, ah, we’ll get back to you – “
And he spun and trotted away. He made it as far as the coffee machine before he exploded into laughter.
Lois turned to Clark and put her hands on her hips. “Laughing at the silly girl, huh? I happen to know what mice are for on a computer.”
Clark tried to smooth his expression and almost succeeded. “I know you do, Lois.”
She glared at him for a moment, then spun on her heel and stalked back to her desk. Clark listened to their mental link, but at the moment she was only putting out amused static. A few seconds later, he realized that she’d very shrewdly distracted him from ragging on Jimmy to be careful.
He shook his head and spoke loudly enough for her to hear him. “Smooth, Lois, very smooth.”
She lifted clear, guileless eyes to him and said, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Kent.” She flipped one corner of the folder. “Shall we see what Jimmy got for us?”
>>>Tuesday, 4:00 PM
Dr. Friskin looked up from her notepad to see Lois glide through the door. She noted to herself that her patient was on time, appeared relaxed and stress-free, and if her observation was accurate, it was a very positive development.
“Hello, Dr. Friskin. How are you today?”
Dr. Friskin smiled. If Lois felt confident enough to initiate the conversation with a personal query, it was definitely a sign of improvement. “I’m having a wonderful day. How are you, Lois?”
Lois perched on one of the twin chairs at the end of the couch. “I’m doing very well, thank you, both professionally and personally.”
Dr. Friskin stood and meandered to the other chair. “That’s good to hear. Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Sure. Which do you want to hear first?”
“Oh, you pick.”
Lois laughed easily. That was a good sign, too. “Okay. Professionally, I’m working with a partner I not only respect and trust, but whom I like. We’re working on several important stories now, and we seem to complement each other.”
Dr. Friskin crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “How so?”
“He balances my impulsiveness with his extreme caution, and my tendency to muddle through uninteresting assignments with his exceptional thoroughness. I write factual and action-driven articles better than he does, but he’s more able to touch the readers’ emotions than I am. We support each other, we cover for each other without smothering each other, and we push each other to be better reporters and better writers without either of us feeling threatened by the other. And, while I’m still driven to succeed, I think he’s helped me to see that there’s more to life than just my career.”
“Oh? Is there maybe a man in your life now?”
Lois’s grin grew wider. “I think there might be.”
Dr. Friskin leaned back and crossed her legs as her own smile answered Lois’s. “Can you tell me about him?”
“Oh, let’s see, he’s tall, very good-looking, confident, successful, and unattached.”
The doctor laughed. “Unattached is nice. Kind of a prerequisite, I’d think.”
“Yes, it is. I refuse to be a home-wrecker, no matter how archaic that term might be.”
“Good for you. So, are you making any long-term plans at this point?”
“Oh, no. He has a painful relationship in his past and I’m not about to push anything. This will work or not work on its own time.”
The doctor raised her eyebrows. “That’s not like the old Lois Lane. I would have expected you to grab the bull by the horns and charge straight ahead at full speed.”
Lois ducked her head and chuckled ruefully. “I know. That’s actually what I’d like to do, but if this guy is the right guy for me, I don’t want to rush him. If I do that, I might drive him away, and wouldn’t that make me the stupid one?”
“Oh, I don’t think I’d characterize that as stupid – “
“But I would. And of all the mistakes I might make in this relationship, I refuse to make that one.”
“I think that’s wise. How is the relationship progressing?”
She shrugged. “It’s still in the very early stages right now. We haven’t even had an official date yet.” Then she lifted her eyebrows. “But I’m hoping for one very soon.”
“Okay,” nodded the doctor. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”
Lois grinned impishly. “Actually, I’d like to hear how your daughter’s wedding plans are working out.”
“You’re that interested in her wedding?”
“Partly. I’m also thinking along those lines for myself some day, and I can use some good ideas that don’t come from my mother.”
Dr. Friskin laughed, thinking that Lois seemed to have taken great strides in the past few weeks. She also thought that such progress is sometimes false, and that a patient might appear to make great strides only because the underlying trauma was being masked instead of resolved.
She wondered which thought applied to Lois’s case.
>>>Tuesday, 5:57 PM
Clark sat in Dr. Friskin’s waiting room and glanced at his watch. Just as he did so, the door to the office opened and a middle-aged man and woman walked out together. Dr. Friskin walked between them, one hand on each shoulder, and said, “Gary, if you and Ronnette want to get married, that’s up to you. Just involve your daughter in the process, okay? She shouldn’t make the decisions for the two of you, but you shouldn’t shut her out, either.”
Clark tuned out the rest of their conversation and thought about Dennis Lang and Virginia McCoy, and how Lana had dealt with her father’s budding romance. Dennis had seemed close to something permanent with Ginny when Clark and Lana had moved to Metropolis almost six months before, but Clark didn’t know where they stood now. He hoped Ginny had been able to comfort Dennis, especially since Clark hadn’t been able to do much to help him.
The thought that Dennis might see a relationship between Clark and Rebecca as too much too soon jarred him. Maybe it was a good thing he was seeing a psychologist after all.
*****
Her light touch on his shoulder seemed to startle him. “Clark? You can come on in now.”
“Oh. Thank you, Doctor.”
He followed her through the door and stood beside the chair.
“Clark? Would you like to sit down?”
“What? Oh, yes, thank you.”
He’s troubled by something, she thought. “So, what’s on your mind today, Clark?”
He sighed. “A woman.”
She nodded. “I see.”
He waited for her to speak again, but when she didn’t, he added, “I think I really like this woman.”
“Okay.”
“She’s – she’s very pretty, maybe even beautiful. I know she lights up any room she walks into. She’s smart, driven to succeed, knows where she wants to go professionally, in charge of her life, and – and she says she really, really likes me.”
She nodded again. “That sounds promising.”
He stood and put his hands in his pockets. “But it’s so soon! I mean, after Lana’s death and all. I don’t know – do you think I’m rushing things?”
“Do you think so?”
“I don’t know! I have no idea what’s normal for someone in this situation.”
“There isn’t any textbook definition of ‘normal’ for this situation, Clark. Everyone works through the grieving process on his or her own pace.”
“But I’m Kryptonian! I’m not human and I’m not exactly what you’d call normal.”
“What I said still applies. You were raised in a human culture, you have human values and ethics, and you react to stress and pain like a human. Besides, ‘being normal’ is an arbitrary standard that’s often confused with ‘being average.’ From what I know of you, you assuredly aren’t average.”
He frowned slightly. “I’d like to think that’s a compliment.”
“It’s an observation. As far as your concern about the grieving process, I can tell you that your youth will work in your favor in regards to your recovery, but there’s no standard timetable for grief. Tell me, what does this young lady think about a permanent relationship?”
His eyes bulged and his jaw wobbled. “Permanent? Wait, I think I’ve given you the wrong impression. We haven’t talked about anything permanent yet. We haven’t even been on a real date yet!”
Not good, she thought. He’s too wound up. “What have you talked about, Clark?”
“Well – we do have a date to watch a movie this Thursday.”
“Good. What are you going to see?”
“We’re staying in. I’m going to rent ‘Charade’ and cook dinner for her.”
“’Charade’? The one set in France with Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn?” She tried not to laugh as he nodded. “The two of you are watching that movie?”
He looked puzzled. “Sure.” Then his brows drew together. “Unless there’s some reason we shouldn’t.”
“No, no, not at all. I just think it’s significant that you’re not only cooking for her, you’ve chosen the movie, and it’s one where the male romantic lead isn’t who he claims to be.”
“You mean – I – he – “
She watched him work through the implications and permutations of Clark Kent, aka Superman, watching a movie about a man who conceals his true identity and purpose from the woman who’s pursuing him.
Dr. Friskin couldn’t contain her laughter. “Ha-ha-ha! I’m sorry, Clark, but you looked so very funny!”
“I’m glad I could brighten your day a bit.”
“No, please, don’t be offended. It was the situation that struck me funny, not you. I assure you that I have far too much respect for my patients to laugh at them, only with them.”
Her explanation seemed to mollify him. “Okay. So, do you think we should watch some other movie?”
She shook her head. “That’s not my decision to make. If you want to watch this movie with this young lady, by all means do it. And cook dinner for her, too. If nothing else, you’ll have a much better idea where you want to go with this relationship by the time the evening is over.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s true. And she’ll have a better idea, too.” He leaned back and crossed his legs. “You’re right. And I don’t have to make a decision on this relationship right now, do I?”
“You could if you wanted to, but I doubt you have all the information you should have at this point. Just give it time, Clark.” A thought struck her. “Oh. I shouldn’t ever assume anything, but I’ve been assuming that she knows about Lana.”
Clark nodded. “She does. And she’s asked me a few innocuous questions about Lana, too.”
“Of course. She’s probably trying to find out how well she compares to Lana, or at least how she compares to the Lana of your memory and your perceptions.”
He looked startled. “I hadn’t thought of that. What should I do?”
Dr. Friskin sighed. “You haven’t been listening, have you? Just answer her questions as completely as you feel comfortable answering. In fact, that might be an indicator of how she feels about you and how she feels about moving forward with a relationship.”
“I see. At least, I think I do. You’re telling me to be patient, right?”
“Yes. Just follow your better nature in this situation. Be cautious and keep an open mind.”
“My father would tell me to guard my heart.”
“Your father sounds like a wise man. That’s always good advice, but it’s especially appropriate for someone in your situation.”
“Thank you. That makes me feel better.”
“Good. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”
One side of his mouth twitched upward in a half-grin. “I hear your daughter is getting married. How’s that going?”
He may be less gung-ho than Lois, the doctor thought, but he’s just as good at distracting me as she is.
>>>Tuesday, 7:19 PM
He picked up the police emergency broadcast as he walked home from Dr. Friskin’s office. She’d given him a great deal to think about, but for the moment he’d have to put it on the back burner and take care of the emergency.
Someone had called in a bomb threat. He traced the address in his mind: it was the Metropolis Museum of Natural History.
Where Lana had worked. Where she’d planned to invest her professional future.
And if there actually was a bomb there, someone had made a very, very bad mistake.
*****
The building was clear by the time he arrived. He landed next to the highest-ranking police officer he saw, Captain Robert Fortier.
“Captain, is there anything I can do to help?”
Without turning around, Fortier muttered, “Yeah, you could get Superman down here.”
He tapped the police captain on the shoulder. “Your wish is granted. Here I am.”
“Very funny, Aladdin. Look, if you don’t have anything better to do than make lousy jokes, pal, you can – “ and then he turned his head and saw the blue spandex and the red cape. “Oh! I’m – uh – I’m sorry, Mr. Superman, I didn’t realize – ”
“It’s just Superman, Captain. Now that I’m actually here, is there anything I can do to help?”
Fortier frowned and glanced at the building. “The museum’s empty now, so there aren’t any people in danger inside the building, assuming the bomb isn’t any bigger than the caller said it was.”
“That’s good. Where is the bomb?”
“Just inside the main entrance, packed inside a wooden crate with a volume of about eight cubic feet, which is room for a whole lot of explosives. As far as we can tell, it’s got a motion sensor on top, and the caller said there was a timer inside the crate. And we’re pretty sure there’s nothing radioactive in there.”
“So it’s not a dirty bomb?”
“We don’t think so, no.”
“Have you received any further communications?”
“No, and that’s got me a little worried. It hasn’t been that long, but I would’ve expected a ransom demand or some further threat or a claim of responsibility or something.”
Superman frowned in thought. That was very odd indeed. “Okay, Captain. What do you have planned next?”
Fortier sighed. “We’re in a holding pattern right now. You can see the sandbags and blast shields we’ve set up around the entrance, and we have officers clearing out the area for a quarter-mile in any direction. We’re not taking any chances on this thing.”
“What would you like me to do?”
The captain ran a hand through his thinning hair. “First off, I’d appreciate it if you’d take a look at it from a safe distance, you know, see if we’re dealing with what we think we’re dealing with. I can send an officer with you if you’d like.”
“I can do that much from here, thanks.”
Superman focused his ‘vision gizmo’ on the museum’s entrance foyer and found the box. Just as he looked closer, Lois’s thoughts burst into his head.
-* Clark! Have you heard about the bomb threat at the museum? *-
He closed his eyes and groaned slightly. The unexpected communication had given him a sudden sharp headache right behind his eyes and he didn’t like it at all, especially since he wasn’t used to having headaches in the first place. Fortier noticed him flinch and said, “Superman, are you okay?”
Superman nodded. “Yes, Captain, thank you. I just heard something else.”
“Another emergency?”
“No. This was far less important.”
-* I heard that, Kent! I am not unimportant! *-
-* Of course not, but I’m a little busy right now. *-
-* Busy with the bomb? *-
-* Yes. Now please – *-
-* Let me help you! I’ll share the byline with you! *-
-* This really isn’t a good time, Lois. *-
-* But this might be a trap of some kind! Remember that weakness you felt before? *-
-* I don’t feel any weakness right now, and I need to concentrate on checking out this bomb. Please be quiet for a moment. *-
-* But you might need some help – *-
-* Have you noticed that when we communicate like this, it requires a significant amount of concentration that makes it difficult to perform other complex tasks? Like checking out bombs? *-
-* But I might be able to – *-
-* NOT NOW, LOIS! *-
He listened for a moment, but she didn’t send anything else. He resolved to apologize later, then focused his vision on the box.
After a moment, he crossed his arms. “Captain, you were right, that’s the bomb. It looks like there’s a motion sensor on the top, and a small box inside which appears to be a timer.”
Fortier nodded. “How much explosive is in it?”
Superman frowned. “Well, I’m not a munitions expert, but it looks to me like there’s a cone cut into the top containing about two pounds of gun cotton with a small lead sphere about three inches across nestled in it. The rest looks like Styrofoam painted to look like a plastic explosive.”
Fortier squinched up his face in confusion. “What? That’s – that’s crazy!”
“I know. That doesn’t make much sense to me, either. It’s almost as if someone just wanted to get your attention.”
The captain nodded. “Yeah.” Then his face lit up. “Or maybe this is some kind of decoy, a diversion. You know, something to pull our attention away from something bigger.”
“Could be. How about I take care of this now? That way, your people will be free to deal with anything else that pops up.”
“Good idea. You deal with that, I’ll report what you’ve learned.”
He floated up and over the police barricade, then drifted past the pile of sandbags and hovered beside the door. No lights flashed, nor did any bells or whistles sound from the box. Since he had no idea how sensitive the motion sensor was, he had to be extremely careful. As gently and quietly as he could, he opened the museum door, then floated inside and shut the door, working as slowly and softly as possible.
As he floated towards the box, he imagined what might happen if the bomb – even assuming that the gun cotton in the top was all the explosive material it contained – might do to the museum foyer. At the very least, the blast would leave marks on the surrounding stonework, and the stench would be overwhelming.
The smell –
Cordite from the exploded ammunition. Burned jet fuel. Incinerated flesh.
The thought of the smell appalled him and stopped him in his airborne tracks.
If the bomb went off – and if it smelled like the wreckage of the ship had smelled when Lana –
He shook himself and took a deep breath of fresh air. He wouldn’t smell that smell again if he could help it. He’d hold his breath while he worked, and surely it wouldn’t take more than twenty minutes to finish the job.
*****
Lois careened through the Metropolis streets, silently rehearsing the tirade she planned to unleash on Clark the next time she saw him. How dare he cut her off like that! How dare he refuse her help! He’d better have one bang-up story to tell her or she’d rip his arms off and beat him severely about the head and shoulders with them.
She squealed to a stop at a traffic light just four blocks from the museum. The police cars in front of her meant that she couldn’t come forward in her Jeep, so she decided to park and go the rest of the way on foot.
A uniformed officer, a youth apparently just out of the academy, ran towards her as she locked the driver’s door. “Hey, Lady, you can’t park there! You’ll have to move your car!”
Instead of her usual bluster, she decided on the spur of the moment to use misdirection and confusion. Her family’s private gibberish should do the trick. “Ninder-nander,” she almost sang in a terrible fake German accent. “Mosh, ein kibble danken de mushyem.”
He skidded to a stop beside her. “What?”
“Mosh nix! De kibben der menken und van der plonk debooten ein mushyem.”
He blinked, unable to grasp a word of her nonsense speech. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand – “
“Penden der churchen en mushyem! Dinder kinden und liebchen verplunkt und clobben den und plotzen. Polander din ben fadden zan de klipperzen.” She smiled at him and patted his cheek. “Danke, moishe.”
And then she walked past him into the restricted area without looking back, sure that he was frozen to the ground in confusion by her gobbledygook. She ducked around the barricade as another officer ran up to the young one and shouted, “Carlisle! You can’t let that woman go in there!”
“She doesn’t speak English, Sarge!” the youth returned. “She was speaking German or Yiddish or Polish or something!”
“Doesn’t speak English? Really?” The older officer pointed at the Jeep’s windshield. “Then why is there a Daily Planet press sticker on her car? Printed in English?”
Lois would have loved to have heard the rest of their conversation, but she had a job to do. She was out of sight before the officers turned to look for her.
*****
Superman cautiously hovered over the crate. He surveyed the setup once again and decided that there was little danger to the building from the gun cotton. He wondered again what was in the lead sphere, and that puzzlement was what was keeping him from simply grabbing the box and tossing it into the upper atmosphere. If there was some radioactive material inside the lead, he couldn’t risk spreading it across the city. On the other hand, he couldn’t just leave the device to explode in the building.
With surgical care, he focused his heat vision and burned the top of the crate away from the rest and lifted it slowly. He examined the motion sensor and decided that the wires leading to the gun cotton would trigger the blast if he jiggled the crate, so he would have to disconnect those wires before removing the device.
He caught a whisper of amusement from Lois through the link. Glad someone’s enjoying herself, he thought. This certainly wasn’t what he’d call fun.
He made one more careful visual survey of the crate and its contents and found nothing new. Then, still holding his breath, he focused his heat vision on the wires connecting the motion sensor to the gun cotton.
