From Part 13 ...
“When two people marry, do they make promises to each other?” Kal asked.
Lois slipped her hand out from under his. It just wasn’t that easy to think clearly sandwiched between the softness of his hand and the firmness of his chest. “Yes.”
“What sort of promises?”
“That they will stay together, they will support each other, they will help each other, they will comfort each other, they will be faithful to each other, they will commit their lives to being together.”
“How do people show their love for each other?”
“By the way they speak, by touch, by caring, by being understanding of each other, by the way they act, by the choices they make.”
Kal’s barrage of questions stopped abruptly. He considered her solemnly for a prolonged moment and then smiled hesitantly. “I want to marry you, Lois,” he said.
Part 14
Lois gulped. “*Marry* me?”
Kal nodded. “I want to marry you.”
Lois felt her tears surge past the lump in her throat and into her eyes. She blinked them away and swallowed frantically. “Kal,” she said gently. “You can’t marry me. You’re already married.”
“No!” Kal shook his head vehemently. “No. No. No. That is *not* a marriage. I was forced into that. I had no choice. I have never spoken to her. Not once. I have never touched her. I have never hugged her. I have never kissed her. That is *not* a marriage. Not like you talked about. I want a real marriage and I want it with you.”
He stared at her, his breaths coming jagged and sharp.
“Kal, you have a duty to your wife.”
“I know,” he admitted. “And I will never renege on that duty, but I *want* to marry you.”
“Kal ... we can’t.”
He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Please, Lois,” he begged. “Please don’t say that.”
“You’re married, Kal. I can’t marry you.”
Kal stood so abruptly, the chair scraped noisily on the concrete flood. He paced the length of the room and then whipped around. “Everything you said about love,” he said. “That’s what I feel for you. Everything you said about marrying, that’s what I want with you. I want to marry you. I want you to share my bed every night. I want to be with you. Always.”
“Kal ... marriage is ... two people ... not three.”
He strode to the bed and crouched beside her, his eyes dark with intensity, his face vivid with purpose. “I have fallen in love with you, Lois,” he declared. “What you said ... it was like you had slashed apart my ribs and looked into my heart, because you described exactly what has happened inside me.”
Her tears rose and splashed down her cheeks. Kal’s hand reached forward and tenderly mopped them away. “Are they good tears or bad tears?” he said softly.
“Both,” she said thickly.
“Have you fallen in love with me?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t want to be with me?”
“Of course I want to be with you Kal,” Lois cried. “But I *can’t* marry you.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and levelled his eyes with hers and pinned her with his resolve. “Out there, no. I am married to Za and I cannot change that. But in here ... in this room ... between us ... only us ... we could be married.”
“No, K-.”
“I can promise you all those things you said. I can promise you I will love you and help you and support you and comfort you and be faithful to you. I can commit to you – my whole life.”
“No you can’t, Kal. You’re –.”
“I won’t lie to you, Lois,” he promised earnestly. “I won’t hurt you. I will be here when you need me. I won’t ever love anyone else.”
Lois put her hand on his face. “I believe you.”
“So you'll marry me?”
“No.”
He straightened, paced away again, then turned with a new wave of passion. “You said a woman chooses a man because of his heart. You said he needs to be trustworthy – I will protect you until my last breath. You said he needs to be kind – I will never be rough or uncaring with you. You said he needs to care more about her than himself – I don’t care about myself ... I just want you to be smiling.”
Lois’s tears welled deeply.
“You said it was also about how he looks,” Kal said. “I can’t do anything about how I look, but I hoped all the other things would be enough.”
Her tears crashed uncontrollably down her cheeks. “You look just ... fine.”
Kal crouched beside her again, one hand on her knee, the other tenderly brushing her tears from her cheeks. “Will you marry me? Please, Lois?”
Lois attempted to clear the gridlock from her throat. “What if you have to choose between your people and me?” she asked thickly. “What if you have to choose between your wife and me? You can promise me all that, but the truth is I could never be anything more than your third priority.”
As she watched, his fervour died – dipping his shoulders and dimming his eyes. He took his hands from her and looked at the floor, breathing heavily. He waited until the visible signs of his anguish had abated a little, then he lifted his head and faced her. “I’m so scared you’re going to leave me,” he whispered.
Lois put her hand on his face. “I’m not going to leave you.”
“Do you promise that?”
“Yes.”
“What if people from your Planet come? What if you can go home?”
His uncertainty trembled through his voice. He, the Supreme Ruler, the most powerful person on New Krypton, needed her with a desperation that laid bare his soul.
She loved him.
Loved him so much.
*She* needed him.
Forever.
Whatever.
*Whatever.*
Lois drew her hand lovingly across his cheek. “I won’t leave you, Kal,” she promised. “I love you.”
His smile was tentative. “I want to marry you.”
“I *can’t* marry you, Kal,” Lois said. “You’re already married.”
Kal stood and stepped away as he dragged his hand through his dark hair. When he turned to her, his hopelessness shattered her heart. “Then what are we going to do?” he asked bleakly.
“I don’t know.”
For long moments, the only sounds were the duet of ragged, broken breaths.
“Kal?” Lois said. “I have some questions.”
He sat down on the chair. “Ask your questions. Ask anything.”
“Your wife’s name is Za?”
“Za-Ra.”
“She is from your mother’s house?”
“It was decided that the first female child born on New Krypton would be my birth wife. Because I use my father’s name, El, when Za was born, she was taken into the House of Ra, so that our marriage would further strengthen the joining of the House of El and the House of Ra.”
“When you gave the Report, you finished by saying that you and your wife have no announcement regarding an heir.”
Kal nodded. “We didn’t.”
“So you are hoping to have a child? With your wife?”
“That is the primary purpose of our marriage – to have a child to lead New Krypton into the future.”
“When was the first time you saw her?”
“The day of our Marriage.”
“When you were sixteen?”
“Yes. She was thirteen.”
“That is very young.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never even spoken to her?”
“No. We make a formal appearance together at the Nobility Convention which celebrates the beginning of another year on New Krypton.”
“Is she pretty?”
He had to think before giving his answer. “I don’t know.”
“Do you wish things could have been different with her?”
“No!” Kal said without hesitation. “No – if I had loved her, I wouldn’t be able to love you. But now I love you and I will never love anyone else.”
Lois brushed her eyes. If she dwelt on that, she wouldn’t get the answers she needed. “You’ve been married for ten years and you have no children?”
“That’s correct.”
“Have you ever wondered why?”
“They say I have bad seed.”
“But Kal,” Lois said gently, “You never see your wife.” She so hoped she wasn’t going to have to explain the problem, but she could feel her advancing fear that that was the only possible destination for this conversation.
“I am the Supreme Ruler.”
Lois looked into Kal’s eyes and read his matching desire to avoid a detailed explanation. “I don’t understand.”
“The people have to be sure that the child is ... of both houses. Therefore when the baby is born, the two highest ranking Regal Nobles - Nor and Ching – have to be there to proclaim the child was born of that mother.”
“OK. I understand that.”
“But the father ...” Kal stopped, his eyes low.
Then Lois understood. “You ... do that ... and they take ... it ... to your wife ... so they know for sure you are the father?”
“Yes,” he said, looking very relieved.
“And you’ve done this every month since you married your wife?”
“No. Not for the first three years. Za was too young to be a mother. But since I was nineteen, yes.”
“They couldn’t just lock you in a room together?” Lois's question was out before her brain had caught up. “No, no,” she added quickly. “Forget I said that.” She took a long, shaky breath. “Is that how it is for the Regal Nobles?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never asked. But they don’t live with their wives.”
Lois could feel her wad of questions straining for release. There was more to this story – a whole lot more. She opened her mouth to fire the first one, but stalled. Kal was staring at his hands, his embarrassment tangible. All her questions could wait – except for one. “Kal, do you know how Tek’s wife got pregnant with their children?”
“Not ... exactly.”
This should have shocked her, but it didn’t. “Kal, on Earth, it is usual for parents to tell children about things like this.”
His eyes lifted slowly.
“I know your parents died when you were very young, but someone must have told you these things.”
Still, he said nothing.
“What *did* they tell you?” she asked.
“That it was my duty to provide the sample every month so Za would conceive and bear my child.”
“That’s all?”
He nodded. “Lois, until I met you ... I didn’t ... I didn’t know there was so much more ... so much I didn’t have. It’s like I was asleep ... but now I’m awake.”
Lois slowly dropped her head into her hands and rubbed against the pounding tension across her temples. What was she supposed to do now?
The more time she spent with him, the more *awake* he was likely to become. How long before he suspected the things they had kept hidden from him?
Was there a reason why they hadn’t told him? If she enlightened him, would there be ramifications? For her? For Kal? Was there a bizarre Kryptonian Law relating to the Supreme Ruler being kept in ignorance?
But if there was, why was he allowed concubines?
If she said nothing, she would be complicit in their deception – in their sentencing him to live in the body of a man, with the heart of a man and the responsibilities of a man ... but the knowledge of a child.
And he had promised he would not lie to her.
Hadn’t he experienced normal curiosity? Didn’t he ever speak to the other boys when he was growing up?
Or had they kept him totally isolated?
“You’ve gone very quiet,” Kal said.
“I don’t know what to say.” That, at least, was the truth.
“Neither do I.” His eyes found hers, deep and troubled. “Will you marry me?”
“I can’t, Kal,” Lois replied. “I need to think through what you’ve told me.”
“All right,” he said sadly.
“And I need to sleep in my room tonight.”
His sadness deepened. “All right.” He stood and without glancing back, strode out of his bedroom.
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Kal felt as if his world had disintegrated beneath his feet.
He’d obtained the answers to his questions. He had asked Lois what she meant when she’d said she loved him. He’d discovered that the logical extension of love was marriage. And beyond that was being together forever.
And that was precisely what he wanted.
With everything within him.
Everything.
He wanted to marry Lois.
He wanted to be with her.
Forever.
So he had asked her.
And she had said ‘no.’
Not once, but seven times.
Seven times.
After leaving the bedroom, Kal had gone to the Empty Room, although he had no intention to exercise. It was quiet here; he was unlikely to be disturbed.
Here ... he could think about Lois.
Lois.
He loved her. He felt it in his heart – just as she had said. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her smile, her laughter, her hugs, her kisses ... being with her ... being able to watch her ... even being away from her and knowing she would be there when he returned to his room. He wanted all of it – craved it with an irrepressible yearning that still startled him.
He was meant to be with her.
He just knew it.
Many times in his life, Kal had known things. Just *known* them. He wasn’t sure how he knew them or when he’d learned them – he just knew them.
He thought maybe the globe still spoke to him – maybe it still transmitted knowledge to him despite having been stolen.
Maybe it was his father ... reaching through time and guiding him.
There were things Kal knew that ran contrary to accepted Kryptonian thinking. Like the fact that the death of a person of the underclass was just as much a tragedy as the death of a Noble.
Even Ching and Yent didn’t believe that.
And as for Nor ... Nor was a man of no honour, a man who used the good fortune of his birth to live without regard for anyone else.
All his reign, Kal had walked the tight-rope between what he’d been told was expected of him and what he’d known was right. It had brought much conflict, particularly with Nor.
Could there be anything from this hidden source of knowledge that could help him with Lois?
What could he do?
Asking Lois again would achieve nothing. She had made it clear she could not marry a married man.
Had a Supreme Ruler ever had two wives?
He hadn’t heard of it, but maybe there was a precedent or an obscure law that allowed him to marry Lois.
He would research every book on Law and History.
But would that be enough for Lois?
He didn’t know.
But he didn’t have any other ideas.
He wished he’d been able to show her how much he loved her; how the thought of not being with her devastated him completely.
He wished Lois would stay with him tonight.
Because, if they were lying in his bed, if his arms were curled around her, if he could pull her close, if they were warm and together and relaxed – maybe his opportunity would come.
And he could tell her his secret.
His advisers in the early years of his reign – Nor’s father, Ked, and Yent - had stressed he was never to divulge his secret to anyone.
They had warned that if he did, he would lose all esteem in the eyes of Kryptonians and civil war would be unavoidable.
He was never to tell anyone.
But now, he was going to tell Lois.
Why?
Because that same instinct that had always guided him told him it was the right thing to do.
How would she react?
Kal didn’t know how a Kryptonian would react ... he certainly couldn’t even hazard a guess at how a woman from a faraway planet would react.
But it scared him.
Because, for the first time, he had someone he cherished more than life.
And the thought of losing her felt like thorns being dragged through his heart.
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As the door had shut behind Kal, Lois had slumped onto his bed, hugged his pillow and cried.
Cried until the pillow was wet and her eyes stung.
She’d known, of course, that loving a married man could bring only heartache. But she had never *meant* to fall in love with him.
It wasn’t as if she had landed on New Krypton, crawled out of her life-pod and tracked down the Supreme Ruler with the explicit intention of seducing him and putting them both in the most impossible of situations.
She cried for herself certainly ... but she cried more for Kal. He’d had two horrific days as the leader of New Krypton. He’d seen death and hatred. He was worried about heating and water and food for his people.
He had missed out on so much. Someone ... her gut feeling was Nor was involved in this somehow ... had manipulated Kal and taken cruel advantage of his selfless determination to do the right thing.
In some ways, if Kal’s marriage had even a semblance of normality, her decision would be simpler. Heartbreaking, but simpler. Maybe. But Kal’s marriage was a union of houses, not of people. A union meant to produce an heir.
But it hadn’t.
Why?
Because of Kal?
His wife?
The process?
Or just bad luck?
How could any man live for twenty-six years ... lead his entire planet with wisdom and honour ... have a wife and three concubines ... and never have even an inkling of ...?
He had lived his life devoted to his people – a colourless existence of duty and service.
And now, she’d inadvertently given him a glimpse of what was possible and then promptly told him it wasn’t possible.
Because of something that had been forced upon him.
He deserved so much more.
But ... to *marry* a *married* man.
She couldn’t do it ... yet the alternatives were to live in the concubine quarters as Jib did – without ever seeing Kal - or to be his concubine ... in the sense she understood the word.
She couldn’t leave him ... because she’d promised him she wouldn’t.
She couldn’t leave him ... because that would rupture her heart.
And Kal’s too.
So her choices were to be a concubine or to be a second wife.
Lois could feel the swell of another wave of tears. She leapt from the bed, vigorously swiping the moisture from her eyes. This wasn’t helping.
Lois Lane did not dissolve into an emotional mess over a man.
OK, she did – but this time the man was actually worth it.
Lois looked at the brand on her hand.
She was Kal’s.
It was right there on her hand. Would be there forever.
She was his ... but he could never be hers ... not really.
Her heaviness settled on her.
But she thrust it off.
She’d had enough of slinking around New Krypton, enough of treading carefully in case she rattled someone’s cage. She would not sit in her room and mope. She would build a life – and that meant getting her newspaper out to the people of New Krypton.
Whether they wanted it or not!
