Games People Play: (Probably 3 out of 5)
by Nan Smith
Previously:
Silently, she surrendered the instrument and watched, slightly bemused, as he inserted it in the lock.
"Keep watch," he told her softly. "This won't take long."
Lois turned, but kept a surreptitious eye on what he was doing. Clark lowered his glasses and suddenly something inside the lock sizzled faintly. Casually, she shifted her position, pretending to scan the area. So *that* was it. He'd done something with his amazing vision powers to short the lock out. The sneak!
Oh well, she decided, he'd saved her a lot of work and time.
Clark was easing the door open. "It's clear," he whispered. "Come on."
**********
And now, Part 3:
Lois slipped through the doorway after Clark. Her partner was utterly silent. His feet made no sound on the carpeted floor, not even the faintest whisper. Lois had thought that she held the record for expertise when it came to moving quietly, but she had to admit now that Clark was at least as good as she. He had lowered his glasses slightly and was turning his head back and forth -- scanning with his super powered vision, she suspected, and she took the opportunity to glance at his feet.
No wonder he was so quiet, she thought an instant later. His feet didn't quite touch the surface beneath them. If she hadn't been paying close attention she wouldn't have noticed it, but there was the tiniest sliver of space between the soles of his shoes and the carpet. He was literally walking on air. She lifted her gaze instantly from his feet and took in the lay of the land. Now wasn't the time to pay attention to Clark's unique "Superman" techniques for breaking and entering. They had a job to do. Still, the reminder, as if she needed it, of who exactly her partner in this venture was, and the things of which he was capable, sent a wave of reassurance through her. She still couldn't afford to be careless, but it was nice to know that it was Superman who covered her back.
The hallway stretched ahead of them, lit by smaller light sources on the ceiling instead of the ones that were employed by day. As far as she could see, nothing was moving.
Clark pulled his glasses down slightly and she watched him turn his head right and left. He began to move silently forward, and Lois followed, instinctively straining her ears for any sound, although she knew -- at least intellectually -- that Clark would hear anyone coming long before she could.
There was none except for the faint swish of air from overhead air ducts. She had never consciously noticed the sound before in Lex Tower -- but never before had she been in the place when it was so silent.
Clark turned his head abruptly. "Somebody coming," he breathed. He glanced swiftly at a door that opened off the corridor and reached for the knob. For a second, Lois thought it was locked. Then there was the faintest undefined sound, almost as if something had snapped, and the knob turned. She went quickly through and Clark followed, closing the door after them with almost no sound.
He kept his hand on the knob. Lois pressed her ear to the door, and was able to hear, very faintly, the sound of hushed footsteps on thick carpeting. The steps proceeded past them and retreated. Clark also had an ear pressed to the wood. One hand still rested on the knob and he touched his lips with an index finger, cautioning silence. A moment later, she heard the footsteps returning slowly. They drew closer and paused before the door. Lois held her breath.
The knob rattled. Lois glanced at Clark's hand, gripping the inner knob. His hand didn't budge, nor did the inner knob move. After a moment, the footsteps moved away again.
It was four minutes by actual count when Clark eased the door cautiously open and peeked out. "He's gone," he breathed. "Come on."
Lois followed him out on tip toe. She glanced back doubtfully at the door. What had gone on there, anyway? Clark had held the knob against the guard, who had obviously been checking it to be sure it was locked but she was almost sure he had done something else. What had it been?
Oh well, time to figure that out later. She moved ahead of her partner, leading the way. The stairway by which she had escaped from Lex's basement wasn't far away.
The hallway that they traversed intersected another, wider hallway, more of a main artery of the building. Lois sneaked an eye around the corner and surveyed the area.
The lighting was still dim. Lex Tower was closed down for the night, and the only persons abroad in it were the security guards, none of whom she saw, and themselves. She beckoned to her partner and stepped into the open.
The door to the stairway was perhaps halfway down the corridor. She held herself to a brisk walk. If someone saw them, they might just possibly be able to bluff their way out if they acted as if they had every right to be where they were. Lois had learned a long time ago that people tended to believe her if she projected an air of confidence. Of course, explaining why she was in the building after it was closed down for the night just might possibly engender some doubt, she acknowledged. But she had talked her way out of worse situations. A few, anyway.
The door was locked, she discovered, when she tried it a moment later. She pulled out her lock pick. "Keep watch," she whispered.
Clark nodded and turned to survey the empty hallway. Lois bent to her task.
The lock was a simple one and came open readily. Lois pulled the door open and stepped through, Clark on her heels. Once inside, she took the time to stop, exhale the lungful of air she had been holding, and put the pick back in her pocket.
"This is the stairway to the basement," she whispered. "We need to get down there to reach the way down to the bunker."
Clark nodded and gestured to her to lead on.
The flight of stairs led to the basement, as Lois had said, and she pulled out the little penlight that she had slipped into the pocket of her outfit's jacket in preparation for this excursion. Dim lights glowed on the walls, just as they had this morning when she had made her escape from Lex Tower, illuminating the vast area just enough to prevent persons from tripping over obstacles. The beam of her light played across a cleared area where scorches on the floor and on nearby crates showed traces of the fire she had started to enable her clandestine exit from Lex's bunker.
Softly, Lois descended the steps, Clark on her heels.
The previous time, she had not had the leisure to explore the place. She had been in a desperate hurry to get away. Now she flashed the light around, trying to make out many of the anonymous shapes in the shadowed basement. There was the wine rack, and the massive swordfish on a plaque that she had noted previously. The sarcophagus still leaned against one wall, part of its enameled surface scorched and blackened. She wondered what Lex would have done with it, and if he would have the damage she had inflicted repaired. The artifact must be worth a small fortune, if it were genuine, and somehow she couldn't see Lex owning anything like this thing that wasn't. The marble arms were also there, untouched by her fire.
"Now what?" Clark whispered.
"Over there." She flashed the beam of her penlight in the direction of the stairwell through which she had reached this place -- had it really been only this morning? "Come on."
Together they made their way across the cluttered floor. The beam of her flashlight brushed what looked like a clawed foot covered with white hair and she shone the beam up a large, white hairy torso, huge, muscular arms, also covered with white hair, and to a head where beady dark eyes stared glassily, and a wide mouth opened, displaying wicked fangs.
"Is that what it looks like?" Clark whispered.
"I have no idea." Lois turned her face away, refusing to look again at the thing, or think about what it implied. "This way." She opened the door to the stairwell that she had traversed before dawn only this morning and stepped through.
**********
An hour later, they had descended uncounted stairs. Lois wasn't sure how many floors they had passed when she paused on the landing and peeked out the small window into the sterile white corridor beyond.
There didn't seem to be anyone passing by, and she had seen for herself the night before that the nightlife in this place was scarce. The next thing they needed to do was to get hold of a couple of the shapeless white coveralls that she had used as a camouflage during her escape.
Cautiously, she eased the door open, wincing slightly at the faint squeal of hinges.
The hallway beyond looked very familiar: sterile white metal everywhere, with fluorescent tubes illuminating everything in their harsh, bluish white light. It was empty, as she had expected. Slowly, she stepped into the hallway, and Clark followed her. He looked around without expression, and she again saw the "Superman" look on his face. Carefully, she kept her expression sober and looked back and forth.
"This way," she said. "If this floor is like the others, there might be a storeroom around here."
Clark rubbed the bridge of his nose, turning a little away from her, and she saw him lower his glasses slightly. She looked away, giving him more freedom to use his super vision to locate what they needed.
"How about over there?" Clark pointed toward a door far down the corridor to their right.
"I guess that's as good as any," Lois said. She turned and started for the door, keeping her pace businesslike. So far there was no sign of any of the occupants of this place, but that didn't mean they weren't around. Some of the personnel that she had encountered the previous night had been dressed in street clothes, so if someone saw them the chances were that they wouldn't get suspicious if she and Clark weren't doing something out of the ordinary. She hoped. Of course, that was exactly what she and Clark were planning to do.
They reached their destination and Clark tried the doorknob. Lois watched his actions without seeming to and this time she saw what he did. For a bare instant his hand paused and she guessed the door was locked. Clark gripped the knob firmly and exerted force. There was a barely audible snapping sound and the knob turned. Her partner had broken the lock by sheer strength. Not exactly a masterpiece of finesse, she decided, but it worked.
Carefully, Clark eased the door open and entered, Lois on his heels.
This room was not a storage room, or at least, Lois amended, it didn't contain crates of food. There were no living things evident, as she had expected. She was fairly certain that Clark had ascertained that fact before he had chosen this room. Low lights illuminated the place, although it seemed brighter than the lighting in the stairwell -- or maybe her eyes were simply starting to get used to low lighting -- and in the faint glow, she could see that there were pieces of heavy machinery sitting motionless in irregular rows on the far left side of the place. With the aid of her penlight, Lois identified several fork lifts clustered in one corner, and various other kinds of construction and moving equipment as well. She was at a loss to guess what some of the stuff was for, but Clark started forward on silent feet and again she followed.
"I'm going to get pictures," her partner said softly. "We're going to need some kind of evidence."
Lois nodded. "I'll check around and see if I can find us something to wear for camouflage," she said.
Clark didn't answer. He was fishing a miniature camera from his pocket. Lois had already spotted what looked like a closet door to her right, behind a metal desk and chair that contained stacks of folders in a basket. Those might be worthwhile checking out, she thought as she made her way to the door.
It wasn't locked, she discovered, and opened easily.
It was a smaller storeroom, with pieces of electronic equipment sitting neatly on the shelves on one side. The other held what looked like specialized tools of some kind. In some disappointment, she looked around. This place didn't seem likely to hold clothing, she thought. Still, above her head were closed cupboards, and she opened one of the doors, unwilling to give up until she had explored all the possibilities.
In the third she discovered the boxes of coveralls, exactly as she remembered them.
They were labeled small, medium and large. For herself, Lois chose a small, which, it turned out, was still somewhat large on her petite frame, and she chose a large for Clark.
Her partner was standing in the center of the room when she returned, turning slowly in a circle and apparently studying the room.
"Here," Lois said. "Get changed."
He took the outfit, glancing at her in the shapeless clothing, and disappeared behind one of the machines. Lois turned and retraced her steps to the desk while her partner donned the approved uniform of this place. The top folder was the logical first choice, and she opened it.
It appeared to be several inventory sheets, she saw, in some disappointment. After glancing through it perfunctorily she picked up the second folder in the stack. On the inner front page, this one was labeled "ILSS". What the heck was that? she wondered, glancing down the incomprehensible list of equipment. On the next page were neatly labeled line drawings of equally incomprehensible components for something or other, she thought. It didn't make any sense to her, but it might to someone over at STAR Labs. Lois extracted the tiny camera that she had tucked into one of the capacious pockets of the coverall and began to photograph the pages.
She had barely finished when Clark appeared beside her. "Someone's coming!" he whispered. "This way, quick!"
Lois followed her partner as he ducked behind one of the big fork lifts and the two of them crouched down, trying to breathe quietly. The doorknob rattled and then the door opened. Two men, also dressed in the white coveralls, entered. One of them was speaking.
"... Busted door lock. Better give Maintenance a call first thing in the morning. The Boss won't like it a bit if he finds out about it."
"Yeah," the second man agreed. "Look, go ahead and find that thing. I'm ready to knock off and get some dinner."
The footsteps echoed eerily around the big room as the two men headed over toward the storeroom closet. Lois heard the rattle of the doorknob again and then the faint squeal of hinges.
"They're right in front on the bottom shelf," the first voice said.
"What did the doc say they are?" the second voice inquired, sounding a little muffled.
"Thermistors," the first voice said. "Right there. Get one and let's go."
There was an unidentified rattle, the sound of footsteps and of the storeroom door closing. A moment later the door to the hallway opened and closed.
"Whew!" Lois said. "What were they after?"
"A thermistor," Clark said.
"What's a thermistor?"
"I think it's something to make a temperature sensing device," Clark said.
"How do you know?" Lois asked.
"I read it somewhere," Clark said. "What did you get from the desk?"
"There was a folder of stuff," Lois said. "ILSS. Do you have any idea what that is?"
"It stands for Integrated Logistics Summary Sheet," Clark said.
"What did you do -- memorize a dictionary?"
"I'm a speed reader."
Yeah, he probably was, Lois acknowledged. "So what is an integrated whatchamacallit?"
"It's generally a complete list of components for some machine," Clark said. "It can be for just about anything."
"Oh," Lois said, a little disappointed. "It's probably for repairing a microwave oven or something."
"Maybe," Clark said. "But it can't hurt to check it out. Look, let's get out of here and look around some more. I want to know what your boyfriend is up to."
"He's not my --"
"Well, he'd like to be," Clark amended. "Come on. There's a lot to this place and not much time for us to explore."
"Last night, the other storeroom I hid in had a freight elevator in the back," Lois said. "Maybe this one does, too. It's faster than stairs and we're less likely to run into anyone than in the regular elevators -- at least at this hour."
Clark nodded silently and gestured for her to lead on.
True to form, there was a big freight elevator in the back. Clark glanced around as if to assure himself that there was no one to hear, and pressed the call button. They waited, Lois watching the indicator above the doors and mentally urging it to hurry.
By her watch, it was barely three minutes, but to her jumping nerves it seemed much longer. The freight elevator slid ponderously to a stop and the doors slid open. Clark let her enter first and then followed almost on her heels. The doors slid shut, as Lois pushed the indicator button for the 95th level -- the lowest one.
The big car rumbled slowly downward. Clark grasped the rail lightly, looking slowly around the elevator, although what he might be looking for Lois couldn't guess. Maybe he didn't know, either, she thought.
At long last, the freight elevator reached the bottom level and the doors creaked open. Clark checked the room without, but it seemed to be simply another storeroom, dim and uninhabited.
They left the elevator and exited into the storeroom. In this one there appeared to be many crates of various shapes, stacked against the walls and piled neatly about in uneven rows. Clark paused suddenly, and she saw his nostrils twitch.
"What is it?" she asked.
He was silent, frowning, obviously thinking.
"What's wrong?" she asked again.
"Can you smell it?" he asked.
Lois sniffed. "What?"
He sniffed again. "Something --" He paused, lowering his glasses slightly as he turned his head. Then he took several steps to the right, into the widest walkway between the lines and lines of crates. Suddenly he paused and knelt, examining the surface of the floor minutely. "Do you have a container I can put something in?"
"I brought along a few envelopes, in case we found something worthwhile."
"Let me have one." He held out a hand, and after a few seconds of slightly perplexed hesitation, she extracted one of the envelopes and gave it to him.
Clark took it almost absently. He was still looking at the floor, and now he reached forward to pick up a few nondescript pieces of something and place the fragments in the envelope.
"I'm going to want someone at STAR Labs to check this out," he said. "I'm not sure, but --"
"About what?" Lois demanded in a fierce whisper. "Stop being mysterious, Kent! What do you think it is?"
Clark sealed the envelope. "I'm not one hundred percent sure," he said. "But I think it's solid rocket propellant. Just a few pieces of it."
"Rocket propellant," Lois said blankly. "What would something like that be doing down here?"
"Good question," Clark said.
"Evidently sitting in the hands of someone that really has no business to have it at all," Lois said, a little harshly, answering herself. "How did Lex get hold of something like that?"
"I'd guess illegally," Clark said. "I think we've uncovered everything about Lex Corps, and we turn around and find something all the way from ordinary to the practically impossible."
"How the heck do we ever come off ahead of these people?" Lois asked what she was sure he knew to be a rhetorical question. "Where would Lex get hold of something like rocket fuel? And why?"
**********
tbc
