From Part 6 ...
Lois felt Kal’s fingers brush against her lower lashes, sweeping away the evidence of her heartache. He stared at the dampness on his fingers. Then he drove into eyes. “Is this good moisture or bad moisture?” he asked.
She couldn’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t understand. It would mean nothing to him ... other than to make him uncomfortable. So, she lied. “Bad,” she said. “Your smile reminded me of my family. I’m sorry I got upset.”
“So I shouldn’t do it?” he asked cautiously.
This was her chance. Her one chance to escape with her heart intact. To escape from the pain of loving him and never having her love returned. To avoid the anguish of knowing he could never be hers ... that he belonged to his wife and his people and his other concubines. This was her chance.
But Lois couldn’t take it.
She smiled, a watery smile full of her jangled emotions. “You should smile, Kal,” she said. “I like it when you smile.”
He did. He let go with a truly spectacular smile.
And Lois knew with sinking certainty that her battle was lost.
She loved Kal.
Part 7
Lois and Kal worked on the Disputes until it was time for him to collect their meal from the Dining Room. As they ate, Lois sat on the bed and Kal sat on the chair. Again, they shared from one plate. Again, it was the thick wormy stuff threaded through the meatball stuff.
Lois found she was growing accustomed to the taste of Kryptonian food. It was edible. Better than edible.
Maybe it was eating with Kal that made the food taste better.
He had now eaten the last five meals with her. Did this mean anything? Who had he eaten with before her arrival? His other concubines?
“Do you have drought on your planet?” Kal asked as he placed the empty plate on the floor and picked up the glass of blue liquid.
“Yes, in some parts.”
“What do your people do when they have no water?”
“I’ve never lived in a place that has actually run out of water,” Lois admitted. “I know there are measures such as building dams – but that’s more about efficiency in storing the rainwater.”
“We tried that in the early years – hoping to be prepared when the rains came.” Kal stared into the blue liquid. “But they didn’t come.”
“Have you tried drilling to see if there are underground lakes?”
Kal looked up from his glass, a smattering of interest seeping through his usual mask. “Water underground?”
Lois nodded. “I’ve read about underground lakes. You can pump up the water.”
“Is it salty, like ocean water?”
“Not always.” Lois smiled, hoping he would respond. He didn’t, but his eyes were fastened on her face. “I don’t know much about it,” she admitted. “And obviously if it isn’t there, no amount of drilling is going to obtain water. But if you’ve never tried it ...”
Kal offered her the glass. “I’ll call my Water Committee together tomorrow and we’ll discuss it.”
Instead of taking the glass, Lois curled her fingers around his hand. “I know it seems a really difficult situation,” she said. “But I’m confident you’ll find a solution.” She squeezed his hand before taking the glass. “The people of this planet are very fortunate to have you as their leader.”
His eyes dropped and Lois saw him swallow. She suspected this was very new for him. Was it her physical contact or her words? Did Kryptonians ever touch each other if it wasn’t strictly necessary? Did they compliment each other? Encourage each other? Share each other’s burdens?
Or had forging a life on a new, dry planet left no time for such things? She realised with some surprise that obtaining answers meant less to her than mitigating Kal’s uneasiness. “Tell me about Krypton,” she said with a smile. “Old Krypton. Do you remember much about it?”
Kal’s head lifted. He stretched out his long legs, crossed them at his ankles and leant back in the chair. His broad shoulders dipped a little and his fingers laced across his stomach. His face –
Lois felt a flurry of excitement lift her spirits. Kal’s inscrutable mask had softened. She stared as if she were seeing him for the first time.
In a way, she was.
She could perceive his pride in his people. And regret. And sorrow too.
“We were a technically advanced society,” Kal said. “We were prosperous. Everyone had more than enough to eat. Our extensive infrastructure supported a vibrant and flourishing society. Our children went to fine schools. Our universities continually developed new and better ways of doing things. We had solved many of the medical questions and developed drugs and treatments to deal with all illnesses. Our crime rate was low; our rehabilitation program was eminently successful. Our planet was colourful and clean and productive. The sun shone, the rain was plentiful.”
“You remember it?” Lois asked softly.
“No,” Kal said wistfully. “I have studied History, seen pictures, and spoken at length with those people old enough to remember.”
“It sounds like a beautiful place.”
“Yes,” he said. He was silent for a breath or two. “It was a beautiful place.”
Lois wondered at his hesitation. Was it grief for what they had lost? Was it the certain knowledge that leading his people would have been so much easier had they still had the advantages afforded by Krypton? “What happened?” she asked. “How did Krypton get destroyed?”
“Scientifically?” Kal said. “We don’t know.”
His reply spurred Lois’s reporter instinct to maximum potency as a spate of questions infested her mind. She was sure Kal’s answer had merely grazed the surface of a far more intriguing story.
She clamped her mouth. She knew only too well how the excessive application of Lois Lane doggedness could drive any story underground.
And Kal was not the target of an investigation.
He was the man she loved.
The man who had, finally, unlocked the door to his soul and allowed her a peek.
Her restraint was rewarded with the opportunity to study him; the chance to try to decipher the rudimentary clues as they flickered across his face.
He was incredibly good-looking, she realised with fresh appreciation. Just the shape of his mouth … She sighed, but chopped it off half-expelled. She really didn’t need Kal asking why staring at his mouth brought a sigh to her lips.
Lois forced her gaze away from the lure of his mouth. She rested, momentarily, in his eyes before deciding they were just as hazardous. Thankfully, Kal began to speak, inadvertently providing her with an escape.
“We lost our home and many of our people,” Kal continued. “But so much more. The abundant resources we had thought would be ours forever, the means to implement our technology, the brightest of our minds, much of our culture ...”
They were silent again.
Then, with an abrupt movement, Kal reached for the next Dispute. Lois stilled him with a hand on his arm. “We’ve got time to talk,” she said quietly. “We can do these later.”
“You don’t mind listening to me talk of things past?” he asked.
“I don’t mind at all,” Lois said with a smile. “Is there more you’d like to tell me?”
“There’s whole lot more I’d like to tell you,” Kal acknowledged. “But we don’t speak of such things.”
“OK.”
Kal straightened in the chair, his serenity gone. The tension braced his shoulders, setting them rigid against his neck. His forearms bore down on his thighs, elbows out, and he stared at his clenched hands. When he raised his head, the mask of his face had crumbled to sadness. Lois cupped her hands around the bridge formed by his hands.
He glanced down. Then he opened his hands and drew hers into the span of his palms. His fingers tightened, enclosing her.
Lois’s heart bolted in response to the three-pronged blitz – the warmth of his touch, the surety of his grip, the earnestness of his brown eyes. She may have been able to muster a defence against one. Against the combined force of the three, she was utterly powerless.
Then Kal began to speak … again providing her a way of escape.
“For as long as records were written,” Kal said. “North Krypton was ruled by the House of El and South Krypton was ruled by the House of Ra. The two houses were bitter enemies, although no one could recall how the enmity had begun. Every summer, the young men of both sides met at the border and fought to advance their territory. Throughout the days of warmth, the border vacillated constantly and by summer’s end far too many men had sacrificed their lives to a forgotten cause.”
Kal’s face gave very few hints of the depth of his feelings – perhaps the tiniest tightening above his upper lip. But his eyes were wells of profound sadness. Lois yearned to soothe the pain from them.
“The Scientists of both sides independently discovered alarming increases in the core temperatures of the planet,” Kal said. “They began meeting secretly … knowing that if their meetings were discovered, they would face execution for treason. Together, they invented the Translator and produced many of them, so all Kryptonians could communicate. Together, they tracked the gradual approach of the inevitable destruction and pursued solutions. Together, they concluded that migration was the only means of survival.”
Through Kal, Lois could feel their hopelessness.
“The Scientists informed my father – Jor-El, Ruler of North Krypton. He went with them to Bon-Ra, Ruler of South Krypton. Together, they agreed that the warring had to stop. If any were to survive, they had to work together.”
“So that’s what they did?” Lois asked.
“Yes,” Kal said. “They were fortunate – they had two years to prepare – much longer than the Scientists had initially estimated. My father, Jor-El, married my mother, La-Ra and I was born.”
So Kryptonians – even the Rulers – had children. Did Kal and his wife have children? Lois couldn’t imagine Kal being an absent father – allowing a child of his to grow up without his influence. But then, maybe that was the Kryptonian way. Before Lois had the chance to ask, Kal had begun to speak again.
“I was only a few months old when the end came,” he said. “But I was the hope of the future. I was the only person who represented both Houses. The only person both sides would accept as their Supreme Ruler. During the two years, the scientists had developed the means to ensure my safety.”
“So you survived?” Lois said. “Even though you were so young?”
“Yes.”
“And your parents?”
His grip on her hand tightened. “Neither survived.”
“Oh, Kal. I’m so sorry.”
He looked into her eyes. His eyes were dry, yet she could see his pain. These memories hurt him, wounded him still. Who had raised the orphaned child-ruler? Did he have anyone he could turn to when he needed support? Certainly not his wife. He only saw her once a year. Maybe his other concubines?
“Do you have any memories of your parents?”
“No direct memories,” Kal said. “My father was a noted Historian. Much of my knowledge of life on Krypton comes from his work.”
“Your parents would be so incredibly proud of how you lead this planet,” Lois said. “Maybe, one day, you would read me some of your father’s work?”
Kal’s eyes jumped to hers.
“Only if it’s allowed,” she hurried to add.
“I would like that,” he said. “I would really like that.”
“Do people from the North and the South get along well now?” Lois asked.
“No.”
“No?”
Kal’s sadness deepened. “The Rules prevent the Old War from being discussed. The words ‘Southside’ and ‘Northside’ are not permitted to be uttered. Yet so many Disputes inevitably involve the old rivalries. All these years later, the hatred still simmers.”
Lois wanted to hold him. She wanted to stand from the bed and take him into her arms and hold him. She didn’t. “What about the case with the two brothers?” she asked.
“The brothers are Northside. Eb is Southside. The younger brother married into a Southside family.”
“So not everyone maintains the old hatreds?”
“No,” Kal said. “But generally those that do are the angry, rebellious ones. The ones who still crave domination and spurn unity.”
“Is that why you hesitated to send Eb to her husband’s home?”
“One reason, yes. But the other reasons remain valid as well.”
“Are you worried her husband’s family will harm her?”
“I don’t think they will harm her,” he said. “Ostracise her maybe.”
“But she wanted to be with her husband,” Lois said. “That was most important to her. You gave her that.” Lois smiled and squeezed Kal’s hand.
His body relaxed again – except for the grip on her hands. Lois waited. She still had questions, but she sensed there was more Kal wanted to tell her.
“I had a globe," Kal said, breaking into the silence. He managed to make a vague round shape without ever losing contact with her hands. “About this big. It was a representation of Krypton. On the day of my Investiture, the globe spoke to me.”
“It *spoke* to you?”
“It was my father’s voice,” Kal said. “He recorded messages for me during the last hours of his life. He gave me knowledge and direction. He said I needed to understand about leading the people, about always putting their needs before mine, about courage and integrity, about the values paramount to all Kryptonians.”
Again Lois could so clearly see the pain of loss in Kal’s eyes. If tears had been part of the Kryptonian experience, she was sure his eyes would have been damp. Was it fanciful to think he was crying on the inside? That his pain had been imprisoned by years of emotional stoicism?
Kal cleared his throat. “My father finished with the words ... ‘Go well, my son. Honour the two great Houses who gave you life. My people are now your people. Your mother’s people are now your people. Lead them with justice, always pursue peace.’”
Lois felt the swell of her tears. In a strange way, she felt she was crying the tears Kal was unable to release. “What inspiring and beautiful words,” she said thickly.
His hand left hers and reached for her face and she knew he was going to gather her tears before they fell. “Beautiful,” he repeated.
“Where is the globe now?” Lois asked.
“I don’t know,” Kal said. “When I returned to my Chambers after the Investiture, it had gone.”
“Who took it?”
“I don’t know. I made enquiries, but there was never a trace of it. Trey – he was my valet then – said perhaps I had imagined it.”
“Where’s Trey now?”
“He passed two winters ago.”
“You didn’t imagine it,” Lois said with conviction.
He stared at her – his brown eyes soft, his face solemn. “Tank koo,” he said.
Lois smiled through her tears.
Kal smiled back and her heart leapt.
They stared at each other, sharing their first smile.
“I don’t pronounce it properly, do I?” Kal said.
“Thank you?”
He nodded. “It sounds wrong when I say it.”
“Come closer,” Lois said.
Kal inched his chair closer to the bed so their knees were side by side. Not touching, but close. Lois leant forward, her face less than a foot from his. “Watch my mouth,” she said. She placed her tongue on her top teeth. “Thank,” she said slowly and with emphasis.
Kal’s tongue protruded. “Ththank,” he said.
Lois smiled. “Good. Watch again.” She shaped her mouth into a protruding circle. “You.”
“Ya.”
“Yoooou.”
“Yoooou.”
“Well done.”
Kal smiled.
“Try it together,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Than koo.”
“Try again. Watch my mouth. Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
Lois laughed. “Great work, Kal,” she said.
Kal smiled. “Thank you.”
Then ... without ever deciding to do it ... Lois closed the distance between them and kissed him.
Fully flush on his still smiling lips.
Kal didn’t move. Hot humiliation flooded through Lois as she realised that he’d remained completely unresponsive to her kiss. He hadn’t moved. She wasn’t even sure if he was still breathing.
She jolted back, knowing her face was a dark shade of crimson.
They probably had the death penalty for a whole lot less than the unsolicited seduction of the Supreme Ruler.
Kal brought his fingers to his lips and held them there as he contemplated her with such intensity, her heart stopped. Had she just crossed the line? Was she about to be ejected from his bedroom? His chambers? His life? His planet?
Kal swallowed roughly. Then his mouth opened. Lois awaited her sentence.
“I don’t know what you just did, Lo-iss,” Kal said. “But I’d really like you to do it again.”
