From Part 3 ...
“Do you love her?”
“I don’t know that word.”
“Love?”
“Yes. It doesn’t translate.”
“Love.” Low-iss’s hands lifted and darted around in front of her. Kal wasn’t sure why. “Love is something you feel in here.” She pointed to the middle of her chest.
That confused him even more. The only thing Kal had ever felt in his chest was his heart beat.
He noticed it most when he’d been running. Or exercising.
Although ...
Being with Low-iss often had the same effect.
Part 4
Lois was at a loss. How could she explain love? How did you explain a concept so complex to someone who’d been married for a decade and it seemed, had not lived with his wife nor felt the slightest inclination to be with her?
Kal stood. “I need to do the Disputes,” he said. He took the chair to his desk and picked up the top folder from the pile.
Lois was immediately interested. She crossed to the desk. “What are the disputes?” she asked.
“When my people have disagreements, each writes his side of the Dispute. I read all sides and make my judgment.”
Lois eyed the large pile. “Your people have a lot of disputes,” she commented.
“I have two hours a day to deal with them.” Kal said it evenly, without a trace of defensiveness, as if simply stating the situation.
“Can I help?” Lois asked. It may give her an insight into these strange people. And anything ... *anything* would be better than her mind descending back into the dungeon of grief she had battled most of the afternoon.
Kal paused. “Did you understand any of the Concubine Ceremony?” he asked.
Lois lifted her right hand, branded with the ‘S’. “When they did this?”
“Yes.”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t understand one thing they said. I didn’t even know I was being made a concubine.”
“One of the things you agreed to –."
“I didn’t agree to anything.”
“You may not have realised, but when you let them mark you with my crest, you agreed to the Rules.”
Lois decided to let that pass. Knowing the rules may help her avoid getting shot. “What rules?”
“You agreed that you will never speak of me or anything about me or anything you do with me to anyone else.”
That sounded draconian in the extreme. “OK,” she said, not at all convinced.
“So, if you read the Disputes,” Kal warned. “You can never reveal the details to anyone.”
“What happens if I break the rules?” Lois asked.
“I will no longer be able to protect you.”
Protect her? “Being your concubine protects me?”
“Yes.”
“What would have happened to me if you hadn’t made me your concubine?”
“Someone else may have taken you – and you would have been under his protection.”
That information seeped through her stomach, cold and foreboding. Would that have amounted to any protection at all? What would this unknown man have demanded of her? Did Kryptonian Law afford her any protection from *him*?
Or were all Kryptonian men like Kal?
Somehow, she didn’t think so.
With a jolt of shock, Lois realised she felt safe with Kal. She, Lois Lane - who for most of her adult life had made a point of not trusting anyone - felt safe with an alien ruler who’d admitted without the slightest embarrassment that he believed he was superior to her.
And ... without any consultation at all, had forced her to become his concubine.
Kal had opened the first folder. Lois scanned the room for possibilities. The desk was too small ... and still covered in her drying clothes ... and anyway, there was only one chair. “Hey, Kal?” Lois said. “Can we both sit on the bed?”
Kal looked as if he didn’t fully understand the question.
Lois lifted the open folder from the desk and took it to the bed. She sat and patted the space next to her. “Come and sit here,” she said. “We’ll work on them together.”
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Kal looked at Low-iss on his bed. She did the mouth-twitch again and flicked the fingers of one hand towards herself. “Come on, Kal,” she said. “We can get through a lot of these if we work together.”
In his entire reign as the Supreme Ruler, Kal had never done the Disputes anywhere other than at his desk. Alone. Always alone. He worked on them for two hours, every evening. Alone.
Even last night - when thoughts of Low-iss had infiltrated his mind and rendered his efforts futile – he hadn’t broken from the routine.
They were already eleven and a half minutes late starting.
But on the bed?
Low-iss held the Dispute he was supposed to be working on ...
Kal picked up the chair and backed it against the wall, adjacent to the bed. He sat down and retrieved the folder from Low-iss.
She positioned herself sideways against the bed-head. Then she leant forward and peered into the open folder. “Would you read it to me, please?” she asked. “The script is totally unfamiliar.”
Her face was within inches of his. He could smell the shampoo in her hair. Kal exhaled – a long breath dotted with tremors. He forced his attention to the Dispute. “My father died last winter,” he read. “I am working the family farm and looking after my mother. My brother refuses to help with either the farm or our mother. He won’t come home. I am the older brother.”
“Is that all?” Low-iss asked.
“That’s one submission. This is from the other antagonist.” Kal picked up the second piece of paper from the folder and began to read. “My father died last winter. He granted me permission to leave the farm and marry and live with my wife’s family. My older brother has withdrawn permission and says I must go back.”
“What are you going to do?” Lois asked.
“The younger brother must return home,” Kal said.
“Why?”
“Because without permission from the head of his family, he cannot leave.”
“He had permission from his father,”
“His father is dead.”
“So the older brother is the head of the family now?” Low-iss asked.
“Yes.”
“What if the younger brother has already married?”
“The marriage will be annulled.”
“But what if he loves his wife?”
Kal recognised the word from before. The Translator could find no equivalent, but it was the word Low-iss had said was something you felt in your chest.
“What if the younger brother really, really wants to be with his wife?” Low-iss persisted.
“His primary responsibility is to his family.”
“But if he is married, isn’t his wife his family now?”
“Not until both of his parents have passed away.”
Kal could see Low-iss didn’t understand – but if he tried to explain the protracted history inherent to this Dispute ... and just about every other Dispute that crossed his desk ... he would be as unproductive tonight as he’d been last night. “What are you going to do?” Low-iss asked again.
“Order the younger brother home to his family.”
“What about his wife?”
“She will stay with her family.”
“Could you order the wife to go with the younger brother?”
“I could ... but I’m not going to,” Kal said. “Her loss would be significant to her family. She is needed with them.”
“Do the ... antagonists have the right of appeal?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Can the antagonists ask someone else to overrule your judgment?”
“Of course not. I’m the Supreme Ruler.”
“You have absolute authority?”
“Yes.”
“Could you order *anything*?” Low-iss asked. “And it would be done?”
“Yes – within twelve hours.”
“But you try to make the right judgment?”
Kal wasn’t sure if it was a question or not. Of course he tried to make the right judgment. What other possible way was there to do the Disputes? “Yes.”
Low-iss adjusted her position on the bed. She pulled up her knees – Kal could see the shape of them under her gown – and clasped her arms around them. He’d never seen anyone sit that way. She laid her head on her knees and stared at him with her soft brown eyes.
“You don’t agree,” he said. He’d always been willing to listen to the opinion of others. But, from his first days as Supreme Ruler, Kal had accepted that the right and the responsibility for the final decision were his alone.
“I think it is sad that the younger brother can’t be with his wife,” Low-iss said.
“He has responsibilities to his family. His wife is needed by her family.”
“What if there was a payment?” Low-iss suggested. “What if the wife goes with her husband and in return, his family give her family produce from their farm?”
Kal considered it. “No,” he said eventually. He picked up the pencil and jotted his judgment on the sheet, glad it provided him with an excuse to avoid looking at Low-iss. She didn’t agree with his settlement. Would she leave his room? Would she refuse to do the Disputes with him?
He wanted her to stay ... so much. But he couldn’t make judgments based on how Low-iss would react. He had to do what was best for his people.
Kal closed the folder and picked up the next one.
When he finally braved a glance in her direction, Low-iss was watching him. “What’s next?” she said.
She was staying! He opened the folder and began to read the submission aloud.
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When Kal next checked the time, he was astounded to discover they had been working for over three hours. The pile of settled Disputes was substantial. He counted the folders – twenty-seven. Twenty-seven Disputes settled in one night.
Until now, he would not have believed that to be possible.
He hadn’t ever considered working next to his bed.
With a woman.
An alien woman from another planet.
Yet somehow, explaining Kryptonian customs and Law and how they related to each Dispute had brought clarity – possibly for her, but certainly for him. Low-iss was quick to comprehend and eager to contribute. She asked intelligent questions and didn’t hesitate to give her reasons when she disagreed with him.
Sometimes when she spoke, her hands moved around. And often, her mouth twitched.
Kal had never thought the Disputes could be anything other than a laborious duty he knew would demand his time and attention for the rest of his life.
But tonight, it hadn’t been tedious. Not at all.
He had ... enjoyed it.
He had enjoyed it! He had enjoyed every moment of the three hours and thirteen minutes.
And the reason he’d enjoyed it was still sitting on his bed.
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Lois yawned and stretched.
It had been a long day.
While Kal wrote up the judgment for the final dispute, she prepared for bed. She assumed Kal would leave for his own bedroom. Still dressed in the loose gown – she wasn’t sure which, if any, of her clothes were nightwear – she slipped into the bed.
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Kal placed the settled Disputes in a neat pile on his desk and turned. He stopped abruptly. Low-iss was in his bed.
*In* his bed.
And looking like she had settled in for the night.
What was he supposed to do now?
Get in with her?
He’d never shared his bed with anyone.
Go and sleep in her bed in the concubine quarters?
He *couldn’t* do that. The past two days, Kal had done a lot of things that had challenged the boundaries of his established proprieties, but he was sure ... absolutely sure ... that he could *not* sleep in the concubine quarters.
He remembered their conversation from earlier. How Low-iss had said that if one of her people didn’t understand why another was leaking moisture from the eyes, they asked why.
As far as he could tell, her eyes weren’t leaking, but maybe that was what he should do - ask why she was in his bed.
Or ... maybe he should just sleep on the chair.
It would be unpleasant.
But maybe it represented the least awkward of his four options.
Kal moved the chair away from the bed and sat down. He squirmed, seeking a position that may ... perhaps ... allow him to sleep.
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Lois was very aware that Kal had not left the room. She wondered why. She still wondered about the full implications of being his concubine. Was tonight her slice in the time-share arrangement? Did he spend the evening with her and then sleep in her bed and ...
She would not think about that.
Although ... one thing she *had* realised ... if that was what he wanted, she would have no recourse. The sobering, galling truth was that if Kal came to her bed, he could demand just about anything and she ...
But this was Kal ...
And Kal had done nothing to suggest he would be anything less than a complete gentleman.
The movement in the room had stilled. Lois hadn’t heard Kal leave. Cautiously, she lowered the covers from her chin. He was slouched on the chair, looking positively uncomfortable. His eyes were closed.
Did he usually sleep on a chair? Fully dressed?
Lois doubted it.
So why didn’t he go to his room?
Was he guarding her? Was this how he protected her? Or was he guarding her to ensure she didn’t escape?
Then comprehension swamped her like a crashing wave and Lois felt her mortification flood her cheeks.
This wasn’t *her* room. This was *his* room.
Humble and spartan though it was, this was Kal’s room.
Why else would the dispute folders be kept here?
Her room must be the one she’d been taken to after the concubine ceremony.
What had Kal thought when she’d calmly ensconced herself in his bed?
What was she going to do now?
Sneak back to her room?
It was dark outside and Lois wasn’t completely sure of her ability to find her way back with limited light.
She should apologise ... and then ask him to show her back to her room. “Kal?” she said hesitantly.
He sat up. Not surprisingly, he wasn’t asleep. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry about taking your bed.”
“I don’t understand the second word.”
“Sorry.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I didn’t understand,” Lois said. “I woke up in this bed after the translator was put in and I thought this was my room. I didn’t realise it is your room.”
“There was opposition to you getting the Translator. We had only one remaining and we have no way to produce more. I thought it possible that a rebel may try to get to you and reclaim it. I ordered that you be brought here after the insertion.”
“What about now?” Lois swallowed down her rising queasiness. “Will someone try to ... reclaim it?”
“No, once it has been in twelve hours, it has calibrated to you and is useless to anyone else.”
Lois felt the surge of her relief. “Thank you, Kal,” she said. “And I am sorry about the misunderstanding.”
Kal didn’t say anything.
Lois didn’t know what to say.
After a long, uneasy silence, she said, “Will you take me to my room, please Kal? I’m not sure I could find it in the dark.”
Kal stood and moved to the door.
Lois slipped from the warmth of his bed and padded after him.
A minute later, they were in the courtyard. “Thank you, Kal,” Lois said.
Kal turned back to his building without saying a word.
Lois’s bed was cold and her mattress was lumpy. She had no other clothes with her and the sheet was thin. She shivered and drew it tighter around her.
The thought came ... staying in Kal’s bed ... even if ...
Would it be worse than lying here? Cold. Alone.
Totally alone.
Lois’s steely resolve evaporated and her tears swelled, fuelled by the cold and the darkness and the isolation of being the only human being on the planet. Thoughts of her home bombarded her tired mind.
By now, they would know the Mission To Mars had failed. They would believe she had not survived. They would grieve for her.
As she was grieving for them.
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Kal slipped into his bed ... into the warmth left by Low-iss.
Inside, he felt hollow ... as if someone had ripped out his innards. He felt empty. He, who had never felt full, now felt empty.
Because she had left him.
Why had she chosen to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed to go to her room in the Concubine Quarters? Kal had never been in the quarters, but he was sure they would be lesser than his room. Colder, barer, less comfortable.
More alone.
By attempting to sleep on the chair, surely he’d made it obvious he wanted her to stay.
Yet as soon as she’d realised it was his room, she’d left.
Didn’t she like being with him?
That was a new and very disturbing thought.
Kal had never once pondered whether he was likeable or not.
He spent time with people when there was a task to be accomplished. He did his part – usually making the final decisions and issuing the orders accordingly – without ever considering if his actions would make people like him.
He’d never wanted to be liked.
He’d only ever wanted to lead his people the best way possible.
But now – now he wanted her to like him. To like being with him.
Of course, he could order her to his room.
But he didn’t want to order her. He wanted her to choose.
And he had no idea how to make that happen.
Then he remembered ... her Translator bandage was due to come off tomorrow morning.
Yet another outlandish idea invaded his thoughts. *He* could do it. One of the Medical Staff usually did it – at least Kal assumed they did.
If he took off her bandage, he would touch her hair.
And he realised, he really wanted to feel her hair. It was longer than most Kryptonian women, but what really fascinated him was that she let it hang loose. She let it dangle around her face, on her neck, across her shoulders.
More than once, he had wondered what it would be like to slide it across his fingers.
Sometimes, seemingly without any conscious thought, she tucked it behind her ear. She’d done it as they had discussed the brothers in the first Dispute.
The younger brother.
The brother who would receive notice tomorrow that he was to return to his family home.
And leave his wife.
Is this how he would feel?
Would he go to bed every night and feel this hollowness?
Kal pushed back the bed-covers and went to the desk. He pulled out the bottom folder on the ‘Settled’ pile. He opened it, took out his judgment sheet, crumpled it and threw it into the trash.
He put the folder on the top of the Disputes awaiting settlement. He would deal with it tomorrow.
He returned to the warmth of his bed.
But it provided no comfort ... because it wasn't the lack of heat that had caused the ache inside him.
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Kal was awake early the next morning. He awoke as he had slept - his mind replete with thoughts of Low-iss. Deliberately, he pushed them away. It was Friday which meant the morning was a meeting with his Medical Staff regarding the health issues of his people.
Before lunch he went to the Empty Room and did physical exercise.
In the afternoon, he had a meeting with the Water Committee. Which meant they would toss around unlikely ideas that had little chance of resolving the simple fact that they were running out of water. Which meant he would, again, have to face the stark truth that, without water, his people would die.
Then supper, followed by the Disputes.
Which brought him right back to Low-iss.
Kal sprang from his bed. He dressed and issued an order for C4 to be brought to his Chambers. Then he put in an order for Tek to arrange a consultation with the younger brother’s wife.
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Lois awoke feeling tired, unrefreshed and bone-weary. Her head hurt – although she knew it had nothing to do with the translator. She’d felt no discomfort from that – nothing more than a little squeamishness whenever she dwelt on the fact they had drilled a hole in her head and pushed a foreign object in there.
There was tap on her door and the bland woman entered. “You’re to go to the Chambers now,” she informed Lois.
“Thank you,” Lois said. “What is your name?”
“Bel.”
“What is your position?”
“I am the Mistress of Concubines.”
“You’re not a concubine?”
“No.”
“What is your job?”
“I bring orders from the Supreme Ruler,” Bel said. “I ensure his concubines have everything they need.”
“I am Lois.”
Bel hesitated for half a breath, then turned and left.
Lois rose from her bed. She had no other clothes. She needed to get her meagre supply from Kal’s room. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to tidy it. She had no doubt her face would be blotchy and her eyes puffy, but she had no mirror to confirm her suspicions, and no way of improving her appearance.
It probably didn’t matter. She looked different from Kryptonian women, so Kal probably thought her strange and unattractive anyway.
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Lois paused at Kal’s bedroom door, unsure of the custom. She’d been told to come to his chambers. Did that mean his bedroom? And now she was here, was she supposed to knock? Or supposed to just wait here until he summoned her?
Her dilemma was solved when Kal arrived at the door carrying a bowl and a glass – breakfast, she assumed. He stopped abruptly as if her presence was unexpected. But he’d summoned her. Maybe it was her dishevelled look that startled him. Self-consciously, Lois pushed back her hair.
“Good morning,” Kal said.
“Good morning.” Seeing Kal’s hands full with breakfast, Lois gestured to the door. “Should I open it for you?”
“Yes.”
Lois opened the door and stepped into his bedroom. He followed. She closed the door and turned, expecting he would have continued into the room. Instead, he’d stopped and was regarding her, appearing deep in thought.
“Tan koo,” he said.
For a moment, Lois stared. Then comprehension hit and she laughed. “You’re welcome,” she said.
Kal put the breakfast on the desk and turned to her. “Your bandage needs to be removed,” he said.
“OK,” Lois said hesitantly. “Will it hurt?”
“I’ll try to make it not so.”
“*You’re* going to do it?”
“Yes.”
Kal stepped closer to her. He was taller than her and a whole lot broader. In fact, Lois hadn’t really noticed his impressive breadth before now. A fleeting thought slithered through her mind that he would probably be even more impressive without clothes. She pushed it away.
Her heart was already reacting to his proximity.
No, she told herself firmly, that wasn’t him ... that was the knowledge he was about to dig around the hole in her head.
Kal reached towards her and carefully brushed back the long strands of hair from above the shaved area. He positioned them behind her ear.
Then he hesitated. She wondered if he’d seen something ... blood maybe, or an infection, something to indicate a problem. Before she could ask, Lois felt the corner of the bandage being carefully peeled away.
It was a little uncomfortable, but certainly not painful.
He continued with his gentle pressure until the bandage fell away. Then Kal leant forward.
Lois felt the whisper of his breath on her bare scalp. “Is it all right?” she asked, wishing she could see for herself.
“It has healed well.” He reached behind her ear and unhooked her hair, then arranged it forward. He stepped back and studied her.
“I guess the shaved patch looks ugly,” she said.
“No.”
His gaze imprisoned her. Kal’s face, as usual, was blank ... but his eyes had deepened and seemed to be drilling into hers ... in the most unsettling way ... like he was reaching inside her and touching her soul.
Then, he broke away. “Are you hungry?” he said.
“Do you want me to stay for breakfast?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “I’d like to stay.” She looked around Kal’s room for her clothes. They were all – including her underwear – on the desk where she’d left them to dry. “But I want to get dressed first.”
An awkward silence followed. Lois wondered if it was permissible to ask Kal to leave his own bedroom. There was no corner in the room that would grant her any sort of privacy. Maybe she should pick up her clothes and go back to her own room in the concubine quarters.
Then, without a word, Kal turned and left.
Lois changed quickly, putting on her own clothes. She had not seen anyone in jeans, but they were comfortable and they were hers and she figured she was going to be conspicuous anyway so she may as well be comfortable.
Once dressed, she sat on the chair and waited for Kal.
Five minutes later, he still hadn’t come.
Lois went to the door and opened it. Kal wasn't in the chambers. She went through the chambers and opened that door. Kal was there, leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his pants.
She smiled. “Thank you,” she said.
He paused. “You’re welcome,” he said.
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Waiting in the corridor, Kal had been engaged in a battle. The battle not to imagine what was happening on the other side of two closed doors. What did Low-iss look like without clothes? Was she like Kryptonian women?
Kal had never seen a naked woman. Five years ago, a young man had been caught drawing pictures of unclothed women. The young man had been put in prison. The pictures had been burned.
But not before Kal had seen them.
It was only because of them that he knew how women were different to men.
It was one of the mysteries of his life. One of the mysteries he had firmly pushed to the back of his mind. There were a plethora of other issues that actually related to making a better life for his people. He didn’t need to know the secrets of a woman’s body to find fuel to heat the houses of his people or water for them to drink.
And that had been enough.
Until now.
Until this Earth woman, this Low-iss, had stumbled into his life and changed everything.
Kal looked at his door, wondering what was taking so long. Was there something about female clothing that necessitated considerable lengths of time?
And what was that black strappy thing with two half-spheres of material that he’d seen near the white Concubine Dress?
The door opened and Kal jumped, as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.
Low-iss looked at him and mouth-twitched.
He followed her inside and picked up the bowl from his desk. She sat on the bed and he sat on the chair near the bed.
“What food do we have?” Low-iss asked.
“Oatmeal.”
Her mouth-twitch widened, causing a swirl of reactions inside him. “We have oatmeal,” she exclaimed. “At home.”
He offered her one of the spoons.
“And we have spoons,” she said.
“You can’t eat oatmeal with the chop-stick,” Kal said.
Low-iss smiled. Kal didn’t know why. It didn’t matter. He watched while she took her first mouthful, eager for her reaction. Her nose wrinkled. “It’s salty,” she said.
“Yes.” Kal didn’t know what else to say.
“We put sugar in it.”
The thought of sweet oatmeal was totally unappetising. Although it did help him realise how unpalatable his oatmeal must seem to Low-iss.
They ate in silence until the bowl was empty. “Kal?” Low-iss said.
“Yes.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Her question startled him. Did she mean now? Was she offering to clear away their breakfast? Didn’t she know there were servants for that? He resorted to what was becoming a standard response. “I don’t understand.”
“What does a concubine do all day? Am I supposed to help you, like I did with the disputes last night? Am I supposed to have a job? Am I supposed to help with food preparation? I just don’t know what you expect of me.”
“You can do whatever you want to do,” he said. “You are a Concubine of the House of El.”
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As the yellow sun set, the mother stared into the distance.
Searching. Waiting. Hoping.
Grieving ... always grieving ... for the child she had lost.
