From Part 18 ...
“But they had a way to keep you safe?”
“Yes.”
Something in how his hand tightened around hers told Lois they had reached the core of his secret. “How?” she asked.
“They put me in hiatus.”
“What do you mean ... hiatus?”
“They made me unconscious just before Krypton was destroyed.”
“So you missed the evacuation from Krypton?”
“Yes.”
There was more. “And you ... missed the three years of searching for a new planet?”
“Yes.”
There was still more - something in Kal’s tone told her there was more. “And?”
“And all the other years until I was fifteen and a half.”
Part 19
“They didn’t *wake* you?” Lois shrieked. “Not for *fifteen* years?” She saw the sting of her words lash across Kal’s face. She captured his hand in both of hers. “They didn’t wake you?” she asked much more gently.
“No.”
“So you have no memories of before you were fifteen?”
“No.”
“No memories of your childhood?”
“I didn’t have a childhood.”
He said it without a trace of self-pity, but it still gouged a valley through her heart. “Oh, Kal,” she said, as her tears welled. “Oh, Kal.”
Kal’s gentle touch dabbed the moisture from her eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked, heavy with concern.
Lois smiled through her tears. “*I’m* all right, Kal. But you ... you have missed out on so much.”
“It doesn’t matter now - I have you.”
It was a statement, but Lois could hear the shadow of his uncertainty. “Yes,” she assured him as her fingers trailed across his cheek. “You have me now.”
He trapped her hand and brought it to his mouth where he dotted it with a row of tender kisses. “Then nothing else matters,” he said.
“No,” she agreed. “Nothing else matters. But I grieve for all that was taken from you.”
+-+-+-+
Kal had tried to envisage the range of Lois’s possible reactions to his secret, but her transparent empathy surprised him. “You feel sad for me?” he asked.
Lois nodded as a solitary tear broke free and journeyed down her cheek. “Of course, I do,” she said. “I feel sad ... and I feel angry at what they’ve done to you and ... and so incredibly in awe of who you are despite having no parents and no childhood and no memories and no foundations.”
He stroked away her tear, loving the cyclic symbolism of responding to the pain she felt on his behalf. Lois smiled, then, with a quick movement, she shuffled forward, swung one leg over his thighs, wrapped her arms around his neck and clasped him into her chest.
The most amazing, completely unfamiliar feeling engulfed Kal. It was like he was being ... protected. He – Supreme Ruler, big, strong and all-powerful – felt the fierce protection coming from her – so small and so petite.
He relaxed into her embrace.
If she never moved again, he would know utter contentment.
After a long time, she unwound from him. He found her eyes and asked the question that had burned inside him almost from the moment he’d met her. “You don’t think I’m ... weird?”
+-+-+-+
Weird? Lois laughed. *She* was the alien here. And Kal - considering all he had been denied - was the *least* weird person she had ever met. “You know what I feel most of all?”
“What?”
“More than anything, I feel an overwhelming compulsion to make up for some of the many things you’ve missed.”
His smile evolved slowly, generated, she felt sure, by a few ideas of exactly *how* she could accomplish that particular undertaking.
With sharp regret, Lois decided that those ideas were best left unexplored for now. “So that was how they kept you safe?” she asked.
“Yes,” Kal said. “My parents ordered it because the Scientists told them it was the only way to guarantee my survival.”
Was it protection from the dangers of space travel to no known destination? Or protection from Nor and his father? “Why didn’t someone wake you as soon as they found New Krypton?”
“That was the original intention.”
“But?”
“But we lost much of our technology and with the limitations imposed by the new environment ...”
“And it just so happened that they got their act together right when you were needed to be the Supreme Ruler?” Lois said, unable to banish the censure from her tone.
“If I hadn’t accepted the mantle of leadership the day I turned sixteen years, it would have irretrievably passed to Ked and his family.”
So had Ked, and therefore Nor, believed the position of the Supreme Ruler was theirs? Had they eagerly anticipated their supremacy ... only have it snatched away by Kal’s appearance?
The timing was too perfect. Someone had engineered it. Who? The same person who had protected the young, completely vulnerable Kal? “Who was the head scientist?” Lois asked. “Who looked after you?”
“Tek’s father, Kip.”
“When did Kip die?”
“Ten years ago.”
“Before or after you awoke?”
“Four days after.”
So Kip paid for his loyalty with his life. “They killed him?”
“It wasn’t murder,” Kal said. “He fell from the cliffs on the east side of New Krypton.”
“Fell?” Lois demanded. “Or was pushed?”
“The official investigation returned a verdict of accidental death,” Kal said. “Those cliffs can be treacherous – they are slippery and the waves are extremely powerful.”
Lois wasn’t convinced. Not for one moment. She forced her mind from the insistent swirl of her suspicions and gave her full attention to Kal. His lingering concerns were still evident on his face. “Your secret has shocked me, Kal,” she admitted. “But I don’t love you any less.” In fact, with understanding had come a deepening of her love.
He let out a long, long sigh and slumped back against the bed head. Lois followed him, her head resting on the expanse of his chest. His arms tightened around her, pulling her close.
“What is your earliest memory?” she asked.
“I remember waking up,” Kal said. “Ked and Yent were there. They told me I was born to be the Supreme Ruler of New Krypton. They told me I had much to learn and I would need to apply every effort to the things I needed to know. They said I had half a year and they would teach me.”
“Did you need to learn how to walk? How to talk?”
“I could walk,” Kal said. “Physically, I was like any other fifteen year old. My Translator had already been inserted. I understood them immediately, and, with the Translator, I could communicate.”
“How could you have learnt a language while you were in ... hiatus?”
“Through the Translator, I suppose.”
“That doesn’t seem possible,” Lois asserted.
She felt the tension tighten through Kal’s shoulders. “I was a very confused fifteen-year-old,” he said. “From the first day, whenever I wasn’t resting, I was studying. There was just so much to learn. I began with reading and writing and then I learnt Kryptonian History and Kryptonian Law. I learnt Science and Math. I learnt the geography of New Krypton, I learnt where all the houses were situated and who lived in each one. I learnt every family and the name of every person.”
“Who taught you all this?” Lois said. “Ked? Yent?”
“I was taught the education by Trey,” Kal answered. “He was my valet after I became the Supreme Ruler. Ked told me some things about being a leader. I didn’t see Yent much – not after that first day.”
“Who taught you justice and ethics?”
“Ked did a little – I didn’t always agree with him.”
“You already had a sense of what was right? Apart from what they taught you?”
“Some things I just knew,” Kal said. “I believe it comes from my father.”
“Through the globe?” she questioned. “The one that was stolen?”
“Yes.”
Lois straightened from him and looked into his still-uneasy eyes. “Do my questions make you uncomfortable?”
Kal hesitated. “A little,” he said. “Not because I don’t want you to know ... but because I don’t have all the answers.” He was silent for a long time. “There is much they didn’t tell me.”
Lois felt her colour rise. “Uhmm,” she offered.
“Like smiling and laughing and joking ... and loving.” He pushed back her hair with a careful brush of his fingers. “But you taught me those things, Lois.”
“What did they say about your wife?”
“When they told me I had to marry her, I asked if she would move into my residence,” Kal said. “I knew Trey was married and I knew he lived with his wife. Ked said that was for the underclasses and any true Noble did not live with his wife. I asked if I could meet her before the Marriage Ceremony and he said that thought was unbefitting for a Supreme Ruler.”
“Did you ever wonder why Ked wanted to keep you apart from Za?”
Kal glanced down, took a deep breath and then faced her again. “There was so much to learn. For a long time, I just felt completely overwhelmed. I realise now I should have asked more questions ... but there were so many questions about being a leader ... I didn’t ever have the opportunity to ask the questions about being a man.”
Lois buried her hands into his hair and looked deep into his eyes. “You know more about being a man that anyone I’ve ever met.”
“They didn’t tell me about the physical contact between a man and his wife,” Kal said dolefully.
“You know now?”
Kal nodded. “It was in the Law. In the section about the Supreme Ruler marrying and taking concubines.”
He knew. He knew the theory. But the practice ... Lois gulped. She met his eyes and perceived that his thoughts were not dissimilar to hers. Suddenly, she became very conscious of exactly how close was their contact and, her face reddening, she slipped hastily from his lap and back onto the bed.
When she glanced hesitantly to Kal’s face, Lois saw his anxiety had been overshadowed by a relaxed grin. “You can sit on me anytime you want to,” he offered.
Lois laughed, still embarrassed. “It probably wasn’t very wise.”
“I know so little about the physical contact between a man and the woman he loves,” Kal said. “But I do know I will never do anything you don’t want me to do.”
Lois smiled. She had heard less-clumsy declarations before ... but she had never heard a more sincere one. “I know that, Kal.” She deliberately allowed the reporter within her to rise, knowing it would ease them from the simmering awkwardness. “Maybe they realised that the greatest chance New Krypton had of being unified was if you and Za together provided strong leadership. Maybe they realised that you and Za together had every chance of producing an heir to be the next Supreme Ruler. Maybe they realised that isolated and alone, they had control over what you knew and that would make you easier to ... manipulate.”
“I always tried to make the right choices,” Kal said earnestly. “Sometimes that meant not doing what they told me. Sometimes it meant conflict.”
“Did Ked steal your globe?”
“I could never prove it,” Kal said. “But it’s possible.”
“Why was it so important that your past be kept such a big secret?”
“The people of New Krypton think I spent those years growing and being trained to become the Supreme Ruler.”
“Obviously, you never made public appearances.”
“No, but that is usual for the child of a Supreme Ruler.” His grin flashed. “We do not have newspapers and inquisitive story-writers to publicly document people’s lives.”
Lois chuckled. “If I had been here, I would not have rested until I knew where you were.”
“That I believe,” Kal said gravely. “You would always find me.”
“Yes.” Lois met his eyes and smiled. “Is there a reason the people cannot know now?”
“Ked told me that if they knew, the people of both sides would lose all respect for me; they wouldn’t believe in my capability to lead with such limited experience and training. And also, there is the stigma of having been in hiatus.”
“Why?”
“Because it was one of the methods used by the South to deal with their criminals.”
“Oh?”
“They had conducted research into repeat offenders and believed that time in prison made the criminal more likely to re-offend,” Kal explained. “So for a time, they banished prisons. The crime-rate soared, so they deduced that the threat of a prison term was needed for preventative reasons, but that the actual prison term only served to embitter ... and to enable the establishment of contacts with like-minded people.”
“So they developed the hiatus?”
Kal nodded. “They experimented with the worst of the criminals and gradually developed a method that allowed successful reawakening at the conclusion of the prison term.”
“But you weren’t being punished for anything,” Lois said, again feeling the rise of her indignation. “You were an innocent baby.”
“An unexpected side-effect of the experimentation was that in hiatus, the body became almost indestructible,” Kal said. “As Krypton drew ever closer to obliteration, they believed hiatus was the method that represented my best chance for survival.”
“Did your father plan for it to continue for fifteen years?” Lois could hear the harshness in her tone. She took Kal’s hand into hers, so if he sensed her outrage, he would know it wasn’t directed at him.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “But my parents didn’t survive.”
“When you arrived on New Krypton, don’t you think Nor and his father had a lot to gain if you never came out of the hiatus?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe that is what they were hoping.”
“Had I not been at my Investiture to accept the mantle on the day I turned sixteen years, Ked would have become the Supreme Ruler.”
“What about before then? What if you had died before then?”
“Kryptonian Law from both sides says that a child ruler cannot be replaced until sixteen years have passed from his birth.”
“Even if there is proof of his death?”
“Even then.”
So, for Ked and Nor, it had been a waiting game from the beginning. Had they known Kal’s whereabouts throughout those years? If they had, wouldn’t it have been a simple task to kill the unprotected child who stood between them and the control of New Krypton? “Kip must have had a way to protect you, Kal,” Lois said. “A way to stop Ked from taking your life.”
“Neither Ked nor his son have ever expressed the ambition to rule New Krypton.”
“Do you think Nor is content being merely a Regal Noble?”
“No.”
“Do you think it is in character for him to merely wait until you die so he or his son can take the mantle?”
“No.”
“Does that worry you?”
“For my people ... yes. For myself ... no. Until now.”
“Until now?”
“Because now,” Kal said, “I have so many reasons to live. Before, I had only one – to lead my people to unity and peace and prosperity.”
Lois squeezed his hand. “Do you think Nor is planning something?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what?”
“No.”
“Why do you think he has waited this long?”
“It is recorded that when we arrived on New Krypton, nearly sixty percent of the people originated from the North. That figure is now fifty-one percent.”
“So, over twenty-three years, more people from the north have died than people from the south?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Remember the massacre a few days ago?” Kal asked. “Nine people died in total. Six from the north and three from the south.”
“Do you think Nor organised that?”
“I think ...” Kal paused. “I think he encouraged it. But without proof, allegations only serve to destabilise our planet.”
“You think Nor encouraged the killings even though he knew some from the south would die?”
“I believe Nor has no qualms in sacrificing the lives of those from the south if it contributes to balancing the numbers. I believe that once the numbers reach fifty percent, Nor will lead the men of the South into Civil War.”
Lois gulped. “You believe that?”
“Yes, I do,” Kal said solemnly.
Lois’s heart twisted into an array of knotted apprehension. “What will you do?” she asked of Kal. “Will you lead the men of the north?”
“No,” Kal said. “I will continue as I have always done ... I will uphold unity and speak for peace.”
“Is there any way to limit Nor’s power?” Lois asked. “Any way to depose him as a Regal Noble?”
“No,” Kal said. “That is his birthright. And to challenge that would be seen as very confrontational by the people from the south.”
“Then what chance does this planet have?”
“The only chance we have is if the people refuse to fight their brothers. If, when Nor calls, the men of the South refuse to respond. If, when Nor challenges and someone rises up to lead the North, the men of the north refuse to respond.”
“Do you think they will refuse?” Lois demanded. “Or do you think they will fight?”
“I don’t know.” Kal sighed. “I think it likely Nor will tell the people about my time in hiatus and I will lose their respect. Without their respect, they will not follow my lead.”
“If the time comes,” Lois said. “If Nor does lead a rebellion, the people will remember how well you have led them these past ten years.”
Kal sighed again. “I hope so,” he said. “I really hope so.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“No. I have never been sure. From the first day that I understood our history, I have worried that we would return to the ways of the past.”
“That’s an awful lot to put on someone who is sixteen years old with a life experience of four months,” Lois said.
“I had no choice,” Kal said. “I had to be the leader my people needed. I had to rule for all Kryptonians and I had to stand for unity.”
Lois ran her fingertips the length of his cheek and fixed her eyes in his. “You can be sure of my love and support,” she promised. “Whatever happens, I will be with you.”
He stared at her, his throat bobbing. “Thank you, Lois,” he said. “Thank you.”
Lois snuggled against him, her head on the slope of his shoulder. Kal’s arm tightened around her, enclosing her. She felt so incredibly safe here with Kal.
She *was* safe with him.
But ... did their safety extend beyond *them* ... beyond the doors of this bedroom?
Her instincts screamed loud their warning.
While Nor lived, Kal would never be safe.
And if Kal wasn't safe, neither was she.
+-+-+-+
“Are you going to tell me what happened when I went out of the room before?” Kal’s question broke into the silence.
“Yes.”
He waited.
Lois swung away from his body and leant against the wall. “It was ... weird ... and I don’t know what happened ... well, I know *what* happened, but I don’t know how it happened and I won’t have all the explanations for your questions either ...”
Kal’s hand lay calmly on hers. “Whatever it is, Lois, we will deal with it together.”
“I saw through the door,” she blurted.
His eyebrows lifted the tiniest amount. “You saw *through* the door?”
Lois nodded. “I saw two men talking with you. I saw them walk away and I saw you come towards the door and open it.”
“Has anything like this ever happened before? When you were on Earth?”
“No.” Lois felt her tears rising. Suddenly, she wasn’t just the alien, she was the alien with weird abilities.
Kal gathered her into his arms and slowly rocked her. “Sshh,” he said gently. “It’s all right.”
Lois backed away. “It is?”
“Of course it is,” Kal assured her with a small smile. “You find out I slept through more than half of my life and I find out you can see through doors. What could possibly be the problem?”
Lois laughed. “I love you,” she said.
“I love you.” He hugged her again, then looked into her face. “Lois?”
“Yes?”
“Can you see through anything else?”
“Like what?”
“The wall.”
She stared at the wall ... and the brown colour faded to transparency and she saw into the chambers. “Yes,” she said shakily. “I can see through the wall.”
“Do you have to make it happen, or do you just look at something and it’s not there?”
“I have to make it happen.”
Kal smiled - full of his love and support. “I understand that you’re shaken, Lois, but the important things have not changed.”
Lois tried to return his smile. “What’s important?” She knew, but she needed the reassurance of hearing him say it.
“There are only three things that are important,” Kal said.
“And they are?”
“You ... me ... and us being together. Nothing else matters.”
“Thank you.”
Kal leant across the bed and picked up her letter. He handed it to her. “You said you would read this.”
Lois took it, but her lingering tears blurred the words. It didn’t matter. She had no intention of reading it to him.
Not yet, anyway.
“Dear Kal,” she said, pretending to read from her letter. “Would you please ask me to marry you again? Because my answer has changed.”
