From Part 25 ...
After a quick parting hug, Lois crossed to her room. She felt the beginning of tears, but they were quickly aborted by her smouldering anger.
She was sure the ugly man was Nor.
He had caused so much heartache.
He *would* pay, she vowed.
She would build the case against him. She would find incontrovertible proof. She would change laws if necessary.
She would find a way to bring justice for Mo and Jib and Ard and Tek and anyone else hurt by Nor’s atrocities.
She would ensure he would *never* be the Supreme Ruler.
And she’d do in ways far more explicit than merely having a baby.
Part 26
The father stood quietly in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the back of his wife as her heaviness settled around his heart.
She was standing where she so often stood, staring ahead, seeing he could only imagine what.
Did she see their child playing?
Did she torment herself with thoughts of a miraculous homecoming?
Did she see nothing at all, blinded by the scars of her heartache?
The father didn’t know.
He only knew he wished with the whole of his heart that he could ease her anguish.
But ... he was helpless to help her.
Just as she was helpless to let go of their child.
With two quiet steps, he moved within touching distance and cupped his hand around her shoulder. “Come on inside,” he pleaded gently. “It’s cold out here.”
She turned and smiled sadly.
Her smile was pure courage and he loved her for her struggle to be strong for him. But her smile had not reached her eyes since that harrowing morning when they’d realised their child was missing.
The father shepherded his wife inside – inside to the silence and desolation of a childless home.
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Lois stood next to Mo awaiting the arrival of Kal to give the Extraordinary Report. Her brain knew that the most likely reaction from the Kryptonian people to the news of their leader’s forthcoming marriage would be ... no reaction at all.
Not visibly, anyway.
Yet her stomach knotted with the possibilities that continually heckled her imagination. What if there was a riot? What if they all turned and left? What if they voiced their protest that she had dared to invade their planet and seduce their leader?
The door to the balcony opened and the three Regal Nobles emerged. Lois stared at Nor. He *was* ugly, she realised. She glanced sideways to Ard. Her gaze was fixed on the balcony, her face devoid of expression. Lois got the impression her mind had escaped to the freedom of her desk and her latest picture.
When Lois looked back to the balcony, Kal was there.
In the black suit.
Her eyes indulged in a slow cruise across the expanse of his shoulders.
They wandered to his chest and she felt the weight of temptation coax them lower.
She forced her head up.
“Fellow Kryptonians.”
Kal’s voice barely dented her personal battle with the lure of the banquet laid before her.
She felt her resolve crumble and made a quick decision designed to minimise her fall. As she stared, the tight black material faded from Kal’s shoulders and upper chest.
Lois dragged in a mottled breath.
Perfection oozed from every masculine curve.
She tracked down his right arm and watched the play of muscles as his fist thudded against his chest in the Kryptonian greeting.
Lois managed to respond as propriety demanded, though her eyes could not be severed from the naked shoulders of her man.
“I have called this Extraordinary Report to inform you that tomorrow I will marry my fourth concubine.”
Lois was mesmerised by the deep ‘V’ shape of Kal’s upper arm as one muscle cut sharply into the next.
“My marriage to Za of the House of El, out of the House of Ra, stands.”
Lois traversed a diagonal path across his jutting collar bone and to the valley between his pecs. Her fingers yearned to fully investigate. Her mouth yearned to follow the trail of her fingers.
“Both women will receive the honour and respect due them as the wife of the Supreme Ruler.”
Kal turned.
Lois rammed her eyelids together.
She slowly counted to ten, then cautiously opened one eye.
The door shut on an empty balcony.
Tomorrow could not come quickly enough.
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On the eve of their wedding, Kal and Lois ate their supper together and then sat on the bed, leaning against the bed-head, their legs stretched forward. Kal’s arm rested across Lois’s shoulders and he could feel the rounded curve of her body press into his side.
The atmosphere had been quiet ... comfortable ... though with an ebullient air of expectation that enticed a shared smile every time their eyes met.
“Do you realise,” Kal said. “This is the first night ever that there are no Disputes awaiting my attention?”
He felt her laughter. “Just our luck ... they will arrive by the hundreds tomorrow and we’ll have to spend all day on them.”
“We are *not* spending so much as a moment on them,” he declared.
She squeezed his hand. “Do you remember the first dispute we did together?”
“Yes. The two Northside brothers ... and the woman called Eb.”
“You wanted to separate Eb and her husband,” Lois said. Any admonishment in her words was lost in the warmth and affection they carried.
“There was so much I didn’t understand then,” Kal admitted freely.
Lois sighed with happiness and rubbed her head against his shoulder. “Do you think Nor is ugly?” she asked suddenly.
Her question surprised him, but Kal was becoming used to a sudden surfacing from the stream of her thoughts. “I’ve never really thought about it,” he said.
“He has greasy hair and a cruel mouth,” she said.
“He has a cruel heart,” Kal said.
Lois turned and her eyes cannoned into his. “Kip’s death was no accident,” she proclaimed.
Surely she had not gone to Nor and asked him, Kal thought with sudden apprehension. The mere thought of Lois anywhere near Nor unleashed every protective instinct within him. “How do you know?” he asked.
“Ard saw what happened,” Lois said. “She followed her father that morning to give him a picture she had drawn for him and she saw ‘the ugly man’ push her father into the ocean.”
“She told you this?” Kal asked.
“Yes,” Lois replied. “Although I am sure she was talking about Nor, it would be a simple matter to confirm it by asking her to identify the ugly man.”
Kal’s apprehension hadn’t diminished. He used his thumb to glide slowly across her shoulder. “Asking Ard to identify the man who was with her father could not achieve anything,” he said quietly.
She stiffened under his touch. “Because she’s a woman?”
“Ard’s testimony could not be used to prosecute because of the length of time that has passed since the death of her father.”
“And because she’s a woman, her word is unreliable?”
“Lois,” Kal said evenly. “It was a long time ago.”
“But she's a woman and a woman with disabilities, so her claims would be easily dismissed?” Lois guessed. “Assuming anyone even bothered to listen.”
Kal could not disagree so he said nothing.
“Ard knows what she saw,” Lois said, her voice low and intent.
“I’m sure she does,” Kal said in a placatory tone. “But it would cause her much distress and achieve nothing in terms of gaining justice for Kip.”
“Did you know she saw what happened?”
“No,” Kal said.
“Why did no one ask her?”
“I don’t remember,” Kal admitted.
Lois’s eyes blazed, their fire pinning him. “Your top scientist dies in mysterious circumstances – the man who probably sustained your life from the time you were a few months old – and you don’t even remember the details of the case?” she challenged.
Kal tried not to flinch under the glare of her disapproval. “I was fifteen,” he reminded her quietly. “I had been awake for four days when Kip died.”
To Kal’s relief, Lois’s expression softened and her hand closed around his face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m a little irascible today. Maybe I have pre-wedding jitters.”
“But you still want to marry me?” Kal asked.
Lois smiled. “Of course. I can’t wait for tomorrow.” She snuggled back against his body and Kal closed his arm around her again as relief doused his concerns.
“Tomorrow will be the best day of my life,” he said.
“Better even than the day a strange alien woman from another planet was dragged before you by your soldiers?” she asked.
Kal couldn’t see her face, but he guessed she was smiling. “That was like the *first* day of my life,” he said. “That was the day I was really awakened.”
Her hand moved to his leg and rested just above his knee. Kal stared, imagining what it would feel like to have her hand there without the barrier of clothing. He hauled his eyes – and his thoughts – away.
“Has anyone told Za about our marriage?” Lois asked.
Despite his best efforts, Kal’s eyes again drifted to her hand. “She knows.”
“How do you know she knows?”
He lifted head and forced himself to look at the ceiling. “I went to see her.”
Lois turned abruptly. “You did?” she squeaked.
“Yes.”
“When?”
Kal looked down. Her hand had gone from his leg. “Yesterday.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Kal managed to dispel the memory of her touch sufficiently to notice the warning ingrained in her tone. “You’re upset,” he said.
“Of course I’m upset.”
This didn’t sound good. “I don’t understand why,” Kal said. “Is it because I went to see Za or because I didn’t tell you?”
“Both,” she erupted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was ...” Kal had been going to say relevant, but something inside him signalled an insistent warning that dried up his words as he spoke them.
“Didn’t think it was *what*?”
Kal searched desperately for the least offensive word possible. “Necessary,” he flailed.
Her colour deepened. “You have a secret rendezvous with your wife and you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me?”
“I’m beginning to think it was necessary.”
Before his words were out, Kal had realised they hadn’t helped. Lois looked like she was within a couple of provocations of exploding. “You assured me there was absolutely nothing between you and Za,” she said. “Nothing. Zippo. Diddly squat. Nada. You told me that not so much as a word had passed between you.”
“There hadn’t been,” Kal said defensively. “Not until –.“
“And when that situation changed, you didn’t think you should mention it to me?”
“I was going to tell you, but I didn’t realise you would expect me to tell you straight away.”
“I expected you would tell me *before* you went,” she flared. “*We* should have discussed it.”
“I didn’t think much about going,” Kal admitted. “I just went.”
“So you mysteriously found yourself at your wife’s door – face to face with the missus for the first time ever?”
Kal was sure that anything he said would only serve to further fan her annoyance.
“What did she say?” Lois asked coldly.
He hesitated, searching for anything Za had said that could possibly appease Lois. “She said it’s all right if she no longer receives my sample.”
“She doesn’t want a child?”
With a sickening clunk, the realisation hit Kal that his agreement with Za was going to upset Lois. A lot.
But he was in too deep to pull out now.
He was probably in too deep to avoid a whole lot of trouble.
“She does want a child,” he said quietly. “She just doesn’t want my child.”
A little of Lois’s wrath seemed to disperse. “She wants your marriage annulled?”
“No.”
“Then what, exactly, does she want?”
Kal took refuge in the distant wall. Then he had to face her. “We made an agreement,” he confessed, wincing internally even as he spoke the words.
“An agreement?” The volume of Lois’s voice had lowered, but her tone had lost none of its sting.
“She won’t incite the South regarding my marriage to you and won’t make it public that she no longer receives my sample.”
“And in return, you’ll ... what? Exactly?”
The agreement had seemed reasonable – a perfect solution – when he'd been with Za. Now, it just seemed like a disaster waiting to detonate. However, stalling was futile. “If Za bears a child, I will accept that child as mine.”
“Would you care to explain how your wife intends to bear a child if she is not receiving your sample?” Lois asked in a voice sizzling with foreboding. “Perhaps further visits are a part of the agreement?”
“Further visits?” Kal spluttered.
“How else could she get pregnant?”
“Lois! Surely you cannot think I would agree to go to *any* other woman and have physical contact with her?”
“She’s your *wife*, Kal,” Lois said. “That’s what husbands and wives do.”
“You know that is not how it’s been with Za and me,” Kal said, trying to sound reasonable.
“I’m not interested in how it’s been, I’m interested in how it’s going to be.”
“It’s going to be exactly as you and I discussed,” Kal said. “Officially, I will have two wives. In reality, there is only you.”
“So Za has someone on the side?”
“I don’t understand your term, but I suspect you mean she has someone else to father her child?”
“Have you thought about how when her child is born, suddenly ... voila! ... here is the heir all New Krypton has been waiting for?”
“Her child would not be the heir.”
“Why not?” Lois demanded. “It’s *your* child, remember?”
“Za says she will wait until after our child is born and then –.“
“Firstly, Kal, we don’t have a child. Secondly, if we did ever have a child, its future is *not* something you can go and discuss with your other wife whenever the mood takes you and thirdly, when did she become ‘Za’?”
Kal felt as if he were hopelessly lost in a maze. He wasn’t sure there was a way out and even if there were, he despaired of finding it. “I didn’t realise our child being the heir was so important to you,” he said. “I even thought that maybe you’d prefer it if our child could avoid becoming the Supreme Ruler and everything that goes with it.”
“If you think this is about me having ambitions for my child to be the boss cocky of this planet, then clearly you don’t know me at all.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Kal said dejectedly. “It didn’t occur to me that you would have any objections to me trying to find a solution to the difficulties we are facing.”
“The difficulties?” Lois said sourly. “Have you forgotten that those difficulties are solely because *you* are married? And because you refuse to give up that marriage even though you claim you want to marry me more than anything?”
“I *do* want to marry you more than anything.”
“No, you don’t – you want to keep your current marriage more than anything. And if you happen to get me as well – that’s an added bonus.”
“Lois, you are my life.”
“You claim that you don’t understand why I’m upset, but if I snuck off for a secret meeting with an Earth man who also happened to be my husband, how would you feel?”
“If we lived on Earth, would you consult with me over every aspect of your job?”
“Huh?”
“If you had to talk to someone when following up a story, would you talk to me about it before you met with the man?”
“No, of course not.”
“That’s all I did,” Kal said. “I consulted with someone in relation to my job as the Supreme Ruler of this planet.”
“You *really* think they are the same situations?” Lois demanded.
Suddenly Kal wasn’t sure continuing this analogy was the smartest of ideas. “Yes,” he faltered.
“I wouldn’t be *married* to someone I spoke to as a part of my job.”
“Lois,” Kal said. “When I told you I couldn’t annul my marriage to Za, you said you didn’t expect me to do anything that would hurt her. You said you understood. You said you could accept that officially I would be married to two women.”
“That was when Za was nothing more to you than a face you saw once a year. Now she is a person – a real person with dreams and ambitions and a plan – a plan to involve you more in her life.”
“I don’t think it’s me she wants,” Kal said.
“Kal, don’t pretend that she could have a child, a child you would accept as yours, and then you would have no further input into that child’s life! What if Za were to die? Of course you, as the *father*, would be expected to take over the care of that child.”
“If we don’t have a child, Za having a child keeps Nor from taking the mantle.”
“So this is about New Krypton?”
Kal hesitated. “I thought it was a solution that was good for Za, good for us and good for New Krypton.”
Lois took a deep breath. “This is what our marriage is going to be, isn’t it?” she said coldly. “You will love me totally ... until your people need you and then they will come first. Always they will come first.”
“Lois, it wouldn’t be -.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if you really want to marry *me* at all,” she fumed. “Is this just about getting an heir for your precious people?”
“Lois,” Kal said, distraught. “How can you say that? You told me you trusted me.”
“I did,” Lois said. “I trusted you when you said you had absolutely no relationship with Za. I trusted you when you said it was a marriage in name only. Now all that has changed – you have memories of her, knowledge of her and a big plan with her to keep your people from the clutches of the evil Lord Nor.”
Kal rubbed the tension that pulled across his temples. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“If I asked you right now to go back to Za and tell her the deal is off – would you do it?”
Kal felt pushed into an inescapable corner. There was no way to answer Lois's question. “I don’t know,” he said.
“Then you should think about it,” Lois said. “Until you have an answer, we have nothing further to discuss.” With that, she leapt from his bed and stormed from his room.
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The reverberations of the slammed door petered out long before Kal managed to drag a smattering of coherence from the chaos of his mind.
Would Lois still marry him?
Would she?
She wouldn’t, he decided, as his dread oozed downwards and congregated like a churning sea of nausea in the pit of his stomach. His mistake in going to Za had wreaked too much damage.
She wouldn’t marry him.
He’d lost her.
He stood from the bed, took a dazed half-step, then stared at the door, willing her to return to him.
She didn’t.
He’d lost her.
Was there any hope?
Was there *anything* he could do to repair the damage?
Should he go to her?
He couldn’t – she’d said she wouldn’t speak to him until he had an answer to her question about Za.
Kal paced the length of his room, turned, paced back again.
His heart felt like it had been shattered into a million tiny scraps.
His head throbbed.
His shoulders ached.
His side – which had cradled her so recently – yearned for her return.
Kal collapsed onto the bed and plunged his head into his hands.
Lois, his heart screamed. I’m sorry. Please come back to me. I need you.
