Friends, this is the penultimate chapter of Bridge to the Past. I hope you enjoyed this story, and that I did not disappoint. There are many roads I could have taken, many paths I left unexplored. Thank you to everyone who's read, and a double thanks to everyone who commented. Due to the laughable shortness of the final chapter, I will not wait until Thursday to post it, but I'll still give it maybe a day or two.
Happy Hanuka, Merry Christmas, and warm wishes to you all!
From Part 8:
"I need a ship," she told him. "A large one, able to carry at *least* two people back to Krypton."
His eyebrows raced skyward. "You're leaving?" he asked before he could stop himself.
She shrugged. "Perhaps. It may not even be possible." Lara gave a soft sigh. "But, I want Kal-El to see our home-world. It is the least I can give him."
**********
And Now, Part 9:
Clark had barely booted up his computer when he heard the gruff "Kent, my office. Now." Obediently, he stood up from his desk and followed his boss.
Perry offered him to sit, and then leaned forward after Clark did so. "Kent," he said, "I've seen plenty of reporters crash and burn in my time. I saw it with Norcross and Jud, Callahan, Hoffman and Lewis, and it almost happened after the great Frenchman Fiasco of '91. Now, whatever's been going on in your life is your business, but I need to know." He gave Clark a pointed look. "Do you have a future here at the Planet?"
Clark stared at his boss in shock. He hadn't realized that he'd let things slip this badly. "Chief, I'm sorry about the past---" he did some mental calculations and winced. "---month or so. I know I haven't been on my A-game, but I promise, I'm getting back to normal."
There was a long pause as he met Perry's silent, scrutinizing stare.
"I'm not going to burn out," Clark repeated. He shifted in his chair, then let out a sigh. "It's just...My mother is in town, Chief."
Perry raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh? Everything all right on the farm?"
"No--I mean, yes," Clark stammered. "I mean, not her. My biological mother, Chief."
In the stretch of silence that followed, Perry's other eyebrow climbed up to join the first one. He stared at Clark with an expression that the younger man couldn't quite read.
"Your---biological---mother?" Perry said at last.
Clark nodded. "Yes, Chief."
Another pause. "...Are you *sure* that's who it is?"
"Yes," Clark said, eying his boss carefully.
"Kent," Perry said gruffly, "I know it's your business, but---" he paused, then shook his head. "I just don't want you getting hurt, son."
Clark's lip twitched into a smile. "It's okay, Chief. Lois and my folks are helping me deal with it."
Perry watched him silently for a few seconds, then nodded. "Be careful," he said, with a nod to let Clark know that he was dismissed.
"I will," Clark replied. He stood and went to the door.
"Kent?"
Clark stopped with his hand on the door handle and turned to face his boss. "Yes, Chief?"
"Take the next two days off."
Clark nodded. "Thanks, Chief," he said as his boss waved him away.
**********
Bernie's face broke into a smile when he heard the familiar whoosh. "Ah, you're back!" he said. He turned around, and as he took in the red and blue spandex, his face fell. "Oh. It's you."
Superman raised an eyebrow at him. "It's nice to see you too, Dr. Klein." He looked around. "Is...um...is my mo---is Lara here?"
Bernie shook his head. "She's out," he said simply.
"Ah," said the superhero. He looked around, a bit flustered, as though he weren't quite sure what to do with himself.
Bernard thought for a moment. "Actually, Superman, it's a really good thing you dropped by!"
Superman looked at him curiously. "It is?"
"Absolutely!" Bernie practically beamed at him in an effort to look friendly and peer-like. "I was just thinking, Superman---actually, can I call you Kal-El?"
"Uh...." The hero eyed him warily. "Dr. Klein?"
"Please," he said jovially, "call me Bernie from now on. Alright?"
"...Bernie..." the younger man repeated.
"Right." Bernie nodded and clapped a hand on his new friend's shoulder. "I was thinking, Kal-El...I know we have this great doctor-patient thing going on, but when do we ever just get together personally? Like a couple of good friends?"
"...Dr. Klein?"
Bernie held up a finger.
"Bernie," the young hero amended.
Klein nodded. "I was thinking, S---uh, Kal-El; one of these days, we really ought to go fishing together."
"Fishing," he echoed.
"Or," Bernie mused, "I could take you to a ballgame..."
"Dr. Kl---Bernie," Superman started to sound flustered. "What's gotten into you?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing," Bernie said, waving the younger man's concerns away. "I just thought, if we end up spending more time together...it'll be nice to know that we could be friends, that we'd get along..."
"...What??"
**********
What in the world?
The desert was still as strange and alien as she remembered, though less imposing in the daylight. Not seeing her ship, she touched down softly in the sand, a few feet away from where a group of people were sitting in a circle with candles in their hands.
"Excuse me," she said, clearing her throat audibly so as to gain their attention. "I am looking for something in this area---"
"You mean...the ship?" A tall man stood up from among the group. His long hair fell past his shoulders, and he wore a black tunic adorned with an image of a hideous bulbous, green face.
"Yes, exactly!" Lara replied, grateful for the rapid understanding. "I need to find it..."
The tall man--as well as the others in the group--nodded sagely. "I understand," he said. "Believe me, we know all about it."
"Then you know where it is?" Lara asked, hopeful.
The tall fellow shook his head.
"The Man took it!" A young man in the group shouted.
Lara stared at him curiously. "What? What man?"
"What do you think!" A woman answered. "I'm telling you, it's Roswell all over again!"
Lara blinked. A man named Roswell had taken her ship? What were they talking about?
**********
"Dr. Klein, what are you talking about?" Superman practically whined.
Bernie sighed. "I suppose I might as well tell you..."
"Tell me what?!" the younger man urged.
Dr. Klein's lips curled into a grin. "I scored two tickets to Dr. Wigdenstein's lectures on String Theory and Subatomic Physics in Canada this weekend. I was thinking of asking your mother to go with me."
Superman stared at him for a while, his brow knitted in confusion. After a moment or two had gone by, his eyes slowly grew wide. "What?!!"
"I have it all planned out," Bernie continued. "The new dimensional theories, a rousing discourse on quantum behavior," He sighed. "and then cocktails before we hit the dioramas of hypothetical atomic structures." He glanced up at Kal-El. The younger man was staring at him as though he were a furry green beetle. "I know," Klein acquiesced. "She's 'out of my league', right? You can go ahead and say it. I know you're thinking it."
"Uh..." Superman replied.
"She's *got* to say yes, though," Bernie said, mostly to reassure himself. "I mean, this is Wigdenstein we're talking about!" He threw his arms out dramatically. "Women go crazy for him! They can't resist him!" He froze. "Oh my---oh dear, I hadn't thought..."
"Huh?" ask Superman.
"Wigdenstein!" Bernie shouted. "He's the Casanova of the physics field, a renowned womanizer!" He pushed his fingers through his thinning hair. "What if he sets his sights on her?! No woman can resist his charms!" He turned to Kal-El. "I don't know what I'd do if she ditched me for him! Kal-El, do you know if she would do that?"
"Uhh..." he said.
"I guess she's too proper to ditch a date like that," Bernie mused. "But on the other hand, she's just so...I don't know..." He shrugged. "...Innocent."
**********
The lock was incredibly easy to bypass. Lara felt a rush she hadn't known since she was a young woman.
Brother Frank and his associates had been kind enough to share the information they'd been keeping regarding her ship's whereabouts; it was being kept in a nearby military base, and they seemed quite certain that she would never get in. She'd thanked them, and then flown off to fetch her ship.
She crept down the corridor, carefully avoiding guards and cameras. The sharper hearing came in handy for alerting her to dangers, but what gave her the majority of her confidence was the simple fact that she'd skulked secretly through government halls before. Those halls had been long ago, and better technology had guarded them.
She glanced through several walls and found what she was looking for. The ship had been taken to a small hanger and left, unattended, under a tarp. Lara made her way to it without delay.
She tugged the tarp off it and paused to check over her husband's handy-work. It was surprisingly well-intact for something that had been sent hurtling at light speeds across galaxies. Since her arrival, Lara often felt the same about herself.
It had a couple faint scratches and burn marks, and apparently someone had tried to take it apart with only minimal success. The panel over the fuel compartment was a little bit loose--a seam had been popped. Lara decided she'd best fix it before taking it with her. The fuel crystals were, after all, radioactive. Though their work was slow, it was nevertheless deadly if one were exposed to it for too long.
With a twist and a yank, Lara pried the panel off.
The searing heat that washed through her bones overwhelmed her.
**********
"Mom? Mom! Please, Mom, wake up!"
Eyelids fluttered open, and the strange woman gazed up into the paled face of a spandex-clad Superhero.
"Mom?"
The only scientist in the room who wasn't openly gaping breathed a sigh of relief.
The woman on the cot shook her head as though to clear it. "K-Kal-El?"
He nodded, and helped her to sit up.
"What happened?" she asked, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"You had a run-in with Kryptonite," he explained. "They found you on the floor of the hanger." He squeezed her hand. "You'll be fine; don't worry. It was a good thing you had your STAR Labs ID with you."
"The fuel crystals shouldn't be that strong..." she said slowly, as though to herself. "They're...stronger now..."
The hero looked at her, perplexed, and the small crowd at the far end of the room began whispering among themselves. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"I..." Lara trailed off. Her breath hitched, and she was beginning to look a little bit pale.
Her son's forehead crinkled with concern. "Mom?"
"I don't...feel so good..." her breathing hitched again, and this time vomit came up.
"MOM!"
The doctors among the crowd rushed forward, and Dr. Klein grabbed his arm and began tugging him out the door. "Come on, Superman," he said. "You should get out of here."
**********
An interminably long time passed, during which he could hear his mother worsen. At some point, her breathing became interrupted by a hacking cough which increased in violence and frequency with each passing minute.
He needed his wife. He'd thought about using the phone on the otherwise bare desk next to him to call Lois or his parents, but he wasn't sure about the risk of Superman making a personal phone call from a military base.
Finally, the door to the little office he was holed up in creaked open. Clark sat up straight as Dr. Klein entered the room. The older man's face looked weary and sad, and Clark felt his heart beginning to sink.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked.
Dr. Klein shook his head. "We don't know," he said. "The symptoms are almost like some kind of severe flu, and whatever it is, it's getting worse *fast*. We're discussing the practicality of moving her back to STAR, but at this point, I don't know how well she could handle the trip." Klein sat down in one of the office's little chairs, and looked at Clark seriously. "Superman, I need to know everything you know about Kryptonian diseases. If we just had some clue..."
Clark shook his head. "I don't know anything."
"I know you're not a medical expert," Klein said, "but think! Are there any common illnesses that you know of? Did you ever catch anything when you were growing up on Krypton---"
"I never grew up on Krypton," Clark cut him off. "My mother abandoned me to Earth when I was a baby, and I was raised by a farming couple in Kansas. This was the first time I've seen my real mother in thirty years."
Dr. Klein stared at him, gaping. "You---? She----?" He shook his head.
Clark stared mutely at the desk.
"You were raised on Earth," Klein stated once he'd regained his power of speech.
Clark nodded.
"You grew up...on Earth..." Klein shot to his feet and hurried out the door.
Clark watched him go, then resignedly picked up the phone.
~**~
"Jor-El? Everyone else has gone."
He stood by the great telescope, holding a piece of a dismantled space probe in his hands, staring silently into it as though the future were written somewhere on its metallic surface. "It's dying," he said at last.
"Jor-El?"
With a suddenness that made her flinch, Jor-El turned and hurled the piece of machinery at the wall with a force that made bits of both break off. "My dream!" he shouted. He pounded a fist on the table. "My dream is dying, Lara. The council wants to cancel the space program."
"I heard," she said softly.
He sighed. "You don't understand; this was everything I've *lived* for since I was a little boy. From when I first looked up into the stars, they occupied my every thought. My brother thought I was silly for wanting to see life outside of Krypton. But by Rao, I so badly wanted to see it---I wanted to touch it, I wanted to talk with it! This project was---would have been---the pinnacle of my life! Do you know what it's like when the culmination of your every hope--every waking thought--suddenly crashes to your feet, never to rise again?" He seized her by the shoulders as he ranted.
Lara stiffened.
Jor-El hastily withdrew once he saw what he'd done. "I'm Sorry, Lara. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"I---I know." Lara bit her lower lip. The skin on her shoulders tensed in the wake of the heat from her fiancé’s hands. "I wish there was something I could do," she whispered. "I hate to see you hurting so."
He smiled sadly at her. The space between them was only a foot or two at most, but may as well have been a mile.
"Why are you so far away?" she asked him.
The pain in his eyes gave way slightly to confusion. "I'm right here, Lara," he answered.
"No you're not," she said with a shake of her head. "You are years away from me. If we were married now, I would hold you until the pain stopped. I would do whatever it takes to make the pain go away, and I wouldn't let go until the world saw its error and reshaped itself to make you happy again. But I can't. I can't do anything, because you are here, suffering now, and I am far away in your future." She sniffled, dimly aware of the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. "Why are you so far away?" she choked out.
He stared at her, shocked at her words, his own eyes suspiciously bright as well. "Lara..." he began, his voice unusually husky. He cleared his throat and brushed the offending blur out of his vision.
The room felt empty. Empty except for a large telescope that pointed steadfastly at stars he would never see up close. Empty except for fragments of dismantled machinery that lay strewn about, mocking him.
Empty except for her.
"There's always time-travel," he said lightly, forcing a small smile.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide.
"Do you think we could borrow from the future?" he found himself asking, the lightness gone from his voice. "Just one day. Then we could put it back."
Despite herself, Lara found herself laughing. At him. At the absurdity of the metaphor. At the absurdity of his actual suggestion. Yet at the same time, she stepped closer. Her face straightened. "Which day do you want?" she asked him.
"It doesn't matter," he said seriously, "as long as it's a day where you are."
Lara glanced toward the door.
Slowly, tentatively, she reached for her husband's hand.
Jor-El stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and took his wife's hand in his. Her hand fit so perfectly in his larger one. The warmth of the contact electrified them.
They looked into each other's eyes.
"So what day is this?" he asked her, huskily.
"It doesn't matter," she said, giving him a small smile. "I'm where you are."
He pulled her into an embrace. It felt so natural, so right.
"I love you," she whispered.
~**~
"I love you too, Lois. I really wish you were here right now." He sighed. "Yeah, I know. Give my love to Mom and Dad when you call. Bye, Honey."
Dr. Klein stood frozen by the open door, his hand still on the knob, watching as Superman hung up the office's little phone. He cleared his throat.
The younger man looked up, his expression drawn and weary but apparently unfazed by Klein's presence. "How is she?" he asked simply.
"Worse," Klein replied. The younger man winced, and Dr. Klein once again chastised himself for having no tact in these situations. "We think we understand the problem."
The hero's eyebrows lifted, and Dr. Klein winced at the glimmer of hope he saw in the young man's eyes. "You may want to sit down," Bernard told him. The hero sank into the office's leather chair, the glimmer in his eyes vanishing as his face fell.
"What is it?" he asked. Bernie had to strain to hear him.
Dr. Klein tugged the smaller chair out and straddled it, resting his arms on the metal back as he racked his mind for a way to explain. "Kal---" the name died on his lips and he snorted softly. "Superman." He glanced at the telephone sitting quietly on the desk. "Well, the good news first; you can go see your mother, if you like. You won't be in danger of catching what she has---or at least, if you do---"
"What does she have?" Clark asked abruptly.
Dr. Klein sighed. He shifted on the metal chair. "Superman, are you familiar with H.G. Wells?"
Superman stared at him, his expression surprised and a little confused. "H.G. Wells? Um, what does he have to do with anything?"
Bernie felt his throat tighten slightly. "He...he wrote War of the Worlds." At Superman's blank stare, he asked, "Are you familiar with it?"
Clark nodded. "It was broadcast on radio in the 1930s. A lot of people who heard it thought aliens were invading and panicked. Many of them committed suicide."
"Yes..." Dr. Klein sighed again. "But do you recall the ending?"
"What are you saying, Dr. Klein?!" the young man snapped.
He breathed slowly, pushing himself away slightly from the back of the chair. "She has a cold, Clark. A common, run-of-the-mill Earth virus that, as the cliché goes, has no cure."
The younger man gaped at him, then slowly shook his head. "You..." he started to laugh. "You had really had me going, Dr. Klein. It's just a cold?"
Klein frowned. "Superman..."
"It's just a cold!" Clark exclaimed, his voice taking on a maniacal edge. "She'll get better in a few days!"
"Clark," Klein snapped. "You're mother has no immunity to Earth's illnesses. Without her invulnerability, she's just a smorgasbord for any and all bacteria. She's dying, Clark!"
The younger man shook his head. "No. She's not. You're lying!"
Klein stood and threw his arms up in exasperation. "Why would I lie?!"
"Because she can't leave me again!" Superman yelled before crumbling into a sobbing heap at the desk. "All those years---not knowing who she was---thinking she was dead..." He looked up at Bernie, his face tear-streaked. "She's my mother! I just finally got to meet her, and now---she's---." He swallowed.
Bernie brushed at his own eyes before circling around the desk to place a hand on Superman's shoulder. "Come say goodbye."
**********
TBC
