From Part 7 ...
“Trask is convinced the only way to protect our planet is to murder Superman. To demonstrate to the others that we are not defenceless and vulnerable.”
“Murder Superman?” Lois was suspended between fear and scepticism. “That’s not possible.”
“Anything’s possible, Lois,” Hodge said with weary conviction. “When an evil man is driven by mindless fear and rampant paranoia.”
Lois felt an icy chill slither down her spine. “How do you know about this?” she asked suspiciously.
“Trask has three men who work closely with him. One of them is feeding out information to me. If Trask gets even the slightest hint of a leak, or that I’m still involved, he’ll kill them.”
“So Trask wants Superman,” Lois concluded, careful to keep her tone even. “But I don’t understand what this has to do with Clark. Why take *him*?”
Hodge’s blue eyes probed hers. “Because Trask doesn’t believe for one moment that Clark Kent is just a city reporter.”
Part 8
Lois clamped her bottom jaw in place to stop it hanging slack and concentrated on wide-eyed innocence. “Huh?”
“Trask watched the video footage of our conversation when we were trapped in Luthor’s tunnel,” Hodge said. “You said Kent was some sort of international spy tracking down Nigel St John. I figured you were messing with Luthor, but Trask got real excited. He saw Kent as a possible partner in his war against Superman, but Kent wouldn’t have anything to do with it.”
Not surprising really. “So why not let Clark go?”
“Trask doesn’t take rejection well,” Hodge said ominously. “And he wants information about Superman and he believes both you and Kent have it ... you’ve had so many exclusives.”
Lois felt like her brain was connected to a hundred thoroughbreds all rearing and straining in different directions. This ... Trask ... didn’t know *the* secret, but he thought Clark had another secret. He had captured Clark, initially hoping Clark would help him kill Superman. He *still* planned to kill Superman. And he wanted *information* ... somehow that word, in this context, had chilling connotations. “How, specifically, is Trask intending to do this?” Lois asked, not at all sure she wanted to hear the reply.
“Trask presumed Superman would appear at one of the minor crimes he organised,” Hodge explained. “Then it was a simple matter of testing his weapon.”
“Weapon?” Lois gulped.
“He has a thing called a quantum disruptor,” Hodge said. “Apparently it can separate and destroy molecules. Based on the Sewells’ speculative research of Kryptonian physiology, Trask believes it can kill Superman.”
Quantum disruptor? Kryptonian? “All I want is Clark back,” Lois mumbled under her breath.
“Then we need to find Superman,” Hodge said soberly.
“What do you mean?” Lois breathed.
“The only way for Clark to get out of this alive is for Superman to face Trask.”
“And be killed by the quantum thingy?” she exclaimed.
“Superman hasn’t been seen for five days,” Hodge said, his impassive tone contrasting with her escalating panic. “Do you know why?”
“You want me to help set up an attempt on Superman’s life?” Lois asked incredulously. “You’re working with Trask?”
“I am *not* working with Trask,” Hodge said with quiet sincerity. “I wouldn’t do that. Without Superman, I’d be dead now.”
“We can’t let Superman confront Trask if there’s any chance the weapon could work,” Lois said desperately.
Hodge stared at her, unmoving.
Lois stared right back. “You *know* where Clark is, don’t you?” she said in a tone of cold accusation.
He nodded, still meeting her eyes steadily.
“Then why can’t we just ... just charge in and get him back?” she said, feeling the rise of her tightly-bound hysteria. “You said you had power. Just get the people, get the weapons and get Clark out of there.”
Hodge dropped a hand on her arm, then, as if realising what he’d done, lifted it quickly. “Lois,” he soothed. “Lois. A lot of people believe there could be something in what Trask says. We don’t have the numbers to do what you’re proposing. *And* I’ve resigned, remember? I can’t just summon -.”
“*You* put the note in my bag, didn’t you?”
“I arranged it,” he admitted.
“Then why can’t you *arrange* to get Clark back?” Lois demanded. Her speech had become breathless and it was getting increasingly difficult to keep her volume low. “You have access to weapons. You didn’t think twice about trying to blow up half of Smallville. This is your job, Hodge, you’re supposed to be good at it, you have the resources, all you have to do is get -.”
“Lois, I know this goes against every grain in your body, but if Clark and you and me and any number of others are going to get out of this alive, you *really* need to do this my way.”
“Then why even bring me into this?”
A wave rustled through his beard, suggesting a smile. “Because you’re Lois Lane.”
“So?”
“You’re here now,” Hodge said with overt admiration. “I would’ve bet good money that not even *you* could have followed that trail. There’s –.”
“So this is about shutting down my investigation?” Lois surmised grimly.
“No,” Hodge said, unperturbed. “This is about warning you. With Superman in hiding, Trask is getting very jumpy and he’s gone well beyond using petty crime to force a confrontation with Superman.”
With sudden inspiration, an idea birthed in Lois’s brain, conceived from the subconscious remnants of her hypotheses and conjecture since Clark had gone missing. There wasn’t time to think through all the implications, but the impulse was too strong to be ignored. “Whatever Trask does,” she declared, “Superman won’t come.”
The interest flared in Hodge’s eyes. “What do you know?”
“I know Superman has returned to his home planet,” Lois said boldly.
“He doesn’t *have* a home planet,” Hodge said with a tinge of exasperation. “It was destroyed nearly thirty years ago.”
So that's why they'd sent Clark to Earth. “How do you know that?”
“The Sewells. Their research says the spaceship they found came from a planet they called Krypton. A planet that was destroyed in 1966.”
Lois loaded and fired a withering look. “And I suppose the Sewells’ research also told you with absolute certainty that no adult ... Kryptonians ... survived?”
Hodge paled under his unruly beard. “Some did?” he choked.
Lois nodded, her face set with certainty. “Survived and settled somewhere else ... a new planet ... New Krypton.”
“So there *are* others?” he breathed.
“Not here,” Lois said with emphasis. “Not as far as Superman knows anyway. But there are others who settled on a new planet ... others who don’t need Earth. They already have a home. They already know about Earth. They already know Superman is here. If they wanted our planet, they *really* didn’t need to send babies.”
“So why did Superman go back?”
It couldn’t be an alien abduction … too many parallels with Clark … and it gave credibility to the idea of menacing alien forces. “His mother is sick.”
“His *mother*?” Hodge’s surprise caused his voice to squeak.
“You didn’t think Superman has a mother?” Lois asked scornfully.
“Will he be back?”
“Would you come back, if you knew a maniac like Trask was planning to kill you?”
“Does Superman know about Trask?”
Lois shook her head. “That I don’t know. He got word his mother was sick and left. That’s all I know.”
“Why hasn’t it been in the media?”
“You think it’s a good idea to announce to every would-be criminal that his worst nightmare has left the planet?”
“No,” Hodge acknowledged with a shrug.
“But now, we have no choice,” Lois said decisively. “So, we let Trask know Superman has gone and he releases Clark. Right?”
Consternation flooded Hodge’s face. “Lois, we *can’t* let Trask know Superman has left,” he said desperately.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lois retorted. “If that's the only way to get Clark back, we *have* to let Trask know.”
Hodge covered Lois’s hand with both of his. She glanced down. His touch was unexpected, but not uncomfortable. “Lois ... remember when you thought I was single-minded, brutal, callous and indifferent to the consequences of my actions?”
“Yeah.” She still wasn’t completely convinced otherwise.
“You need to understand Jason Trask,” Hodge said, with fervid intensity. “I am not in his league. He is a brilliant, meticulous planner and an utterly ruthless executioner of his plans. He stops at *nothing*. I think he revels in the death and destruction. For him, they’re not just the means to the end.”
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing short of Superman’s death will satisfy Trask.”
The chain of foreboding was slowly tightening around her stomach, but Lois refused to yield to it. “Well, that’s not going to be easy to achieve with Superman on another planet,” she said flippantly.
“Lois ... you’re not listening to me. If Trask thinks Superman has gone, he will do anything ... *anything* to lure him back.”
“Like what?”
“Like for starters ... kill Clark ...” Hodge’s eyes dropped to where her hand was still in his. “... and you.”
A sudden thought birthed in Lois’s mind. “If Trask captures me, thinking that will bring Superman, he’ll take me to Clark.”
“I’m not letting Trask anywhere near you,” Hodge vowed.
“You don’t understand, Franklin – I’m happy to be the bait if it gets me to Clark.”
Hodge’s grip on her hand tightened. “No, *you* don’t understand, Lois. I’m not letting Trask anywhere near you.”
Something in Hodge’s tone and his touch prodded her perception. She looked into his blue eyes and realisation hit.
Lois withdrew her hand. “Franklin,” she said softly. “I love Clark.”
Hodge breathed out an embittered laugh. “I *know* that, Lois. I’m socially awkward not delusional.” He stared at the floor for a moment, then looked directly into her eyes. “But I can’t help how I feel and I’m not going to let Trask hurt you.”
“No matter what they do, Superman won’t come,” Lois said with finality. “Trask needs to know that.”
“You can’t try to communicate with Superman,” Hodge warned. “All your communications are bugged.”
Not quite all. “Can Trask’s weapon, his ... quantum thingy ... kill someone on another planet?”
“I doubt it.”
“Then I’ll write the story.”
Hodge closed his eyes, his face a portrayal of indecision.
The chain inside her tightened further. “You know something you’re not telling me,” she said.
Hodge grimaced and admitted it with a terse nod.
“Tell me.”
Still he hesitated. Then with a big breath, he said, “We believe Trask has missiles in place – missiles aimed at every major American city between Philadelphia and Los Angeles.”
“How did he get them?” Lois exploded. “Isn’t that why we have a Department of Defense?”
“Trask is very, very persuasive. And he has a phenomenal record of taking on impossible situations and fixing them. People in very high places trust him … and never look too closely at how he achieves what he does.”
“But hasn’t he realised that will kill us and not Superman? And reveal that *he’s* the danger, not Superman?”
“I think he learnt a lot from Luthor’s system about how to shift the culpability.”
“To?”
“Superman, via the Daily Planet.”
“But Superman has never hurt anyone,” she railed.
“Differences breed fear; Trask uses that to his advantage.”
Lois slowly shook her head. If it hadn’t been for the fact that someone had held Clark for almost three days, she would probably have dismissed this as the ravings of a lunatic.
“Trask stops at nothing,” Hodge continued. “He *can* do it, and he *will* threaten it if he thinks it’s the only way to get Superman back to Earth.”
“But he’ll only threaten it.”
“No. He never bluffs. If pushed, he’ll do it.”
Lois swallowed. “So what are *you* going to do?”
Hodge almost smiled, as if he shouldn’t have been expecting that question, but he was. “I’m going to blow up Trask’s control centre,” he said simply. “Before he fires the missiles.”
The dread ran cold again. “Where Clark is?” Lois breathed.
Hodge nodded sombrely.
Lois grabbed the front of Hodge’s vest in her fists. “You can’t do that,” she said, as loud as she dared. “You can’t kill Clark.”
Hodge put his hands over hers. “I’ll do whatever I can to save Clark,” he said. “But I can’t let Trask kill thousands of Americans.”
“*Whatever you can*?” Lois hissed in a terrified whisper. “You’re going to *bomb* him!”
Hodge’s blue eyes shot into hers, intense and earnest. “Anyone can make a bomb. But making a bomb to destroy exactly what you want to destroy and leave what you want kept safe ... that’s -.”
“You’re saying you can make a bomb to kill Trask, but not Clark, even if they’re in the same building?” she gasped, disbelievingly. “Or is this more bluster?”
Hodge didn’t flinch at her contempt. “I consider every aspect – the size, the building materials, the contents, how many rooms, every possible contributing factor, and I make each bomb precisely and specifically for the individual situation.”
Lois looked at him dubiously.
“I made a small bomb as a diversion and had it delivered to the office of the Smallville Press,” he said. “How much damage was there?”
“None,” she conceded.
Hodge shrugged. “It doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not, what matters is that you stay away.”
“While you bomb Clark?” she said with biting disbelief.
“Lois, I’m begging you to stay away, not just for your safely, but for others’ as well … including Clark,” Hodge said. His hands rested on hers, where she still gripped his vest. “But I have no faith that you will. So, I’m telling you this … if you do somehow get to Clark, *please* stay close to him, because that will be your best chance of survival.”
A large part of Lois still couldn’t believe she was hearing this, discussing this. But a small part of her managed to keep functioning. “So I write the story?” she asked, removing her hands from under his.
Still, he hesitated. “Will you send it by email?”
Lois nodded.
“So Trask will know about Superman this afternoon?” Hodge thought for a moment. “There’s another circus show here at seven o’clock tonight. We’ll meet then, same place, same get-up. Go home, write up your story, rest from your *procedure* and meet -.”
“How did you know about that?”
“There are very few secrets in this business, Lois.” He winked at her. “But that was brilliant. Almost as good as Sally Smallville.”
Her initial shock evolved into a small smile.
Hodge smiled back as he took the device from his pocket. “Take this,” he said. He pointed along the LEDs. “This signifies telephone taps, this one is listening devices, this one is hidden cameras, this one is tracking devices. Don’t disable any of the bugs or do anything that could alert Trask. If he gets suspicious, he will kill anyone who could possibly be involved ... including Clark.”
“Would he kill you?”
“If he gets the slightest hint I’m in Metropolis, yes, he’ll kill me. But don’t worry about that. You need to keep yourself safe.” Hodge replaced his eye patch and crammed his hat on his head. “We have to go. We’ve already been here longer than is prudent.”
Lois stilled him - her hand on his arm. “Have you actually seen Clark?”
“Not personally. I can’t risk being anywhere near there.”
“Is he badly hurt?”
“He’s not good.” Hodge put his hand on the door handle. “Can you sneak away from here? Looking like you’ve ... you know?”
Lois squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Franklin,” she said. “For everything. Stay safe.”
He nodded. “See you tonight. Here. Seven o’clock.”
+-+-+-+
Lois took a cab from the circus to the foreshore of the bay, where a small carnival permanently operated. She walked to the Ferris wheel and waited in the short queue. When her turn came, the man who had been standing behind her made a move to get into the cage with her.
She held up her hand to stop him. “Last time, I vomited,” she said apologetically.
He backed out quickly and the attendant shut the cage door.
A few moments later, her cage was suspended high in the air as other people boarded far below her.
Lois did a quick check with the bug-detector Hodge had given her. Nothing.
“Clark, Clark,” she began, wondering why she hadn’t thought of this before now. “I love you. I miss you so much, farmboy. We will get out of this; we will be together again soon.”
She swallowed down her tears.
“An agent called Jason Trask wants to kill Superman. He captured you because he thought you would help him. But Clark, Superman has returned to his own planet.
“Clark, it’s really, really important that - no matter what happens – Superman doesn’t come. Superman *must* not come. There *is* another way out of this.
“I miss you so much, Clark.
“I love you. I love you.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.
“I love you. I miss you. I’ll be with you soon.”
+-+-+-+
Clark Kent lay on the cold, hard floor of a small room built into the corner of the disused warehouse.
He was in pain ... had been in agonising pain since they had brought him here. Crippling spasms of suffering thundered through his chest incessantly and his head felt like each individual brain cell had been split with an axe.
Every breath was torturous.
Beyond the internal pain, his semi-naked body bore testimony to the vicious attempts to beat information out of him.
Then he heard her.
“Clark, Clark.”
Lois. Faint, but it was her. He knew it was her.
She was still alive!
Clark closed his eyes and summoned every ounce of his ravaged concentration to focus through the raging sea of torment.
“I love you. I miss you so much, farmboy.”
Her voice was like a soothing current of comfort.
“We will get out of this,” he heard very faintly. “We will be tog...”
Another wave of pain crashed over him and Clark heard no more.
+-+-+-+
Lois sighed with satisfaction as the lock to Jimmy Olsen’s apartment succumbed to her picking instruments.
She went to his computer and checked it for bugs. It was clear.
All she needed now was for Jimmy’s computer to not be password-protected. He lived alone, the chances were good. She hoped.
Within moments, she was in.
She opened Clark’s email account using his ‘chocolatecroissant’ password and quickly checked his emails. She found nothing of importance. Nothing relevant.
Then she composed the letter.
Dear Lois:
I know you are at the hospital today and I couldn’t leave without a more adequate explanation, so I’m using Kryptonian technology to access Clark’s email account to bid you goodbye.
As you are already aware, I was contacted last week by my own people. Although the planet Krypton was destroyed many years ago, a remnant of my people survived and established a peaceful, comfortable life on a formerly-uninhabited planet.
My mother was one of the survivors. Upon realizing her time was limited, she decided to begin the long, arduous journey to Earth, hoping to contact her son and learn of his fate. Last week, she became gravely ill and requested her attendants attempt to communicate with me, despite still being a long way from Earth.
My mother passed away this morning, necessitating my immediate return to my people to assume family responsibilities.
The vast distances between my new home and yours mean future communication between us will be impossible. However, I will never forget the hospitality and friendship shown to me, particularly by yourself and Clark. I trust you will be very happy together.
Please convey my deepest gratitude to the people of Earth for allowing me to share their home.
Yours sincerely
Superman.
Lois proof-read it twice, then typed her own address and hit ‘send’.
+-+-+-+
Back at the hospital, Lois changed into her original clothes, having checked them with Hodge’s device and found them untainted. She emerged from the hospital entrance at precisely five o’clock and immediately saw Sarah’s car.
She got in and smiled at the driver, Hank – a burly man, probably in his late fifties.
At her building, she thanked him and walked wearily to her apartment.
With Hodge’s bug-detector, she checked her entire apartment, discovering her phone, computer and cell were bugged. To her relief, there were no other listening devices and no cameras.
She logged onto her computer, opened her email and then wrote the story of Superman leaving Earth.
She paused before sending it.
If this became public knowledge, there would be follow-on effects. There would be more crime and less hope. Death and injury would again be the normal consequence of disasters.
But it didn’t necessarily have to be permanent. Once she was with Clark again … nothing would be unmanageable.
Assuming Perry ran her story.
She attached Superman’s letter to her email, but wasn't sure it would be enough hard evidence for Perry.
But once she hit ‘send’, it was out of her control.
What about Trask?
Would he really do what Hodge feared?
Or was it nothing more than Hodge’s excuse to indulge in a little destruction of his own?
There were still far too many questions. Still far too few answers.
She added a personal note to Perry. ‘I’m not feeling great, Chief, so I’m going to bed. Talk to you tomorrow.’
Then, with a deep sigh, she clicked ‘send’.
+-+-+-+
At seven o’clock, Lois, dressed in the nurse’s uniform, walked towards the pony corral at the circus.
A hand fell on her shoulder and turned her around.
Two police officers faced her.
“Lois Lane?” one asked. Without waiting for her to reply, he continued. “You are under arrest as a suspect in connection with the disappearance of Clark Kent.”
