But Mayson had seen her without the mask ... for the briefest second ... in the bathroom at the wedding. Mayson had come out of the stall and caught one glimpse of the bride in the mirror just prior to her replacing the mask.
Mayson closed her eyes and tried to recall that memory.
She gave up after a few seconds.
She had spent way too much time staring at the picture of Lois Lane - so much so that now Mayson couldn't visualise the image of Ultra Woman without it morphing into Lois Lane in a mask.
Mayson took the printout of the photo of Lane from her bag. With a red pen, she drew a mask on the face. She held up the now-crumpled piece of paper, and her breath erupted into shooting darts that careered through her lungs.
Ultra Woman stared back at her.
Part 59
Mayson lurched from her seat and paced the length of the room.
Lois Lane?
Ultra Woman?
It couldn't be possible.
But on Wednesday morning, Ultra Woman had been in Metropolis. Mayson had gone to the cafe and seen her there with Superman.
And on Wednesday afternoon, someone whom Albert thought was 'more likely than not' to be Lois Lane had been in the library.
Ultra Woman had a slight Midwest accent.
So had the woman in the library!
Mayson felt hysterical laughter sweep through her.
It fit!
It fit perfectly.
And it gave a feasible explanation as to how Lois Lane had heard the conversation in the library and been back in Australia a few hours later to write the story. Being married to Superman made long-distance travel a cinch.
Mayson picked up her phone and called Kent's desk. She listened to the dial tone and took a gigantic breath to settle her cavorting heart.
"Clark Kent, Daily Planet."
"Clark, it's Mayson."
"Mayson. Are you calling in a story?"
"Not calling it in ... not yet," she said. "But I have the biggest story since Superman appeared."
"You sound distressed ... as if you've been running. Are you in danger? Where are you? Did someone hurt you?"
"I'm at my apartment. You need to come here now."
"Mayson ..." His speech had acquired that weary intonation he often used when speaking to her. "... you know I don't come to your apartment."
Mayson was tired of his patronising attitude. "Listen to me, Kent," she snapped. "I am offering you one chance to hear about this before I splash it all over the front page of the Planet. And if Perry won't print it, I'm sure every other editor across the breadth of the United States will snatch it up. I *will* write the story, and it *will* be published, and it *will* change your life forever. So do yourself a favour, greenhorn, and take the lifeline I'm offering you - because if you don't, you will pick up tomorrow's paper and see your gullibility on public display."
"May -"
"You've got fifteen minutes."
She slammed the phone into its holder and tried to steady her breath.
She'd always known that Clark Kent was naive ... but this took it to new levels entirely.
||_||
Clark hurried from the Planet and had to restrain himself from flying to Mayson's apartment. He couldn't arrive too quickly - she knew he had been in the newsroom just moments ago.
His heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to gather his scrambled thoughts. Whatever she said, whatever she knew, whatever she threatened, he *had* to protect Lois and his parents.
Nothing was as important as protecting the humans who had accepted him ... and who loved him.
||_||
Mayson sat at her computer and opened the Metropolis Star site. She brought up the wedding photograph of Superman and Ultra Woman.
Now, she had no doubt.
Lois Lane was Ultra Woman.
Why? How? She didn't know. That would come later.
But one thing she did know - there were two possibilities regarding Kent.
Either he was the singularly most stupid man that had ever walked the earth ...
... Or he was Superman.
She stared at the man in the blue spandex. The hair was different. The posture was different. The expression was different. Physically, it *could* be Clark Kent. Her eyes glided over the broad shoulders and muscular contours of the alien's chest. Mayson shook her head. It was *highly* doubtful that *that* body belonged to Kent.
And who could imagine bumbling Clark Kent being able to fly and possessing such strength? That was as preposterous as some of her earlier speculation about Lane.
But, Mayson thought with a gratified smile, she didn't have to imagine.
She could prove it.
Mayson rose from the chair and went into her bedroom.
She opened her closet, slid the shoes sideways, lifted the hatch, and removed the book. From its pages, she took out the small piece of green rock and carefully placed it in the pocket of her woollen jacket.
It would be safe there ... safe *and* effective.
If Clark Kent was Superman, he would walk two steps into her apartment and be exposed to the green rock. He would collapse, his hands clutching desperately at his chest.
And she would know.
Mayson smiled in anticipation.
She would know his secret. She would have total power over not just Superman, but Clark Kent as well.
If the green rock had no effect, she would know Kent had been duped by - of all people - a football reporter from Australia.
Kent had said he loved Lane.
That *love* was the perfect lever to force Kent to do her bidding.
Mayson smirked victoriously.
Kent had humiliated her with his cold rejection.
Revenge would be devastatingly effective and oh-so-sweet.
||_||
Lex Luthor pressed the 'rewind' button on his VCR remote control. The tape whirred back for a few seconds, and then he replayed the scene for the fifth time. The camera swung from the ranting Jason Trask to the floor where the alien lay, reduced to a contorting mound of primary colours.
In the background, Trask's demented spiel continued as he expounded on takeovers, and green rock, and energy sources, and saving Planet Earth from those dastardly aliens - all seemingly without the need to draw breath.
Luthor had watched as the drama had unfolded live. He'd had the foresight to tape it, because even then it was obvious that whoever prevailed - be it Superman or Trask - had the potential to be a problem.
Trask had died only hours later.
Superman had overcome the first major challenge to his powers ... and it had changed him.
Until the confrontation with Trask, Superman had shown no inclination to use his powers for anything other than rescuing people from emergencies.
But that had changed.
In the past week alone, the caped mutant had foiled two robberies that Luthor had planned - the drugstore and the bank.
In the big picture, neither mattered. But the alarm bells were clanging loudly - Superman could be the one individual with both the motivation and the ability to threaten the empire Luthor had so meticulously built.
And for that, he had to be eradicated.
Luthor rewound the tape again and leant forward. It didn't look like an act - it looked like real agony. The man who could take a bullet without so much as flinching ... was in real pain.
Trask's voice droned on - detailing how, by removing all traces of the green rock from Earth, he would rid the aliens of their power source.
Trask had expelled the green rock into space - yet Superman's powers had continued unabated.
He still flew around - indeed, he had increased his proclivity for poking his nose into things that were not his business.
The stricken alien filled the screen, and Luthor paused the tape.
*That* was what he'd looked like at the wedding.
Until ... until Mayson Drake had left.
So whatever had caused his distress while Trask was talking had also caused his distress at the wedding.
It was so obvious Luthor was astounded that it had taken him this long to realise the truth - the green rock was *not* Superman's power supply, but his nemesis.
Mayson Drake did have *knowledge*, but more importantly, she had means.
She *had* to have some of the green rock.
Trask had taken the Daily Planet staff as his hostages. Mayson had been at the EPRAD base just prior to the green rock being hurtled into space. She could have stolen some. Alternatively, Trask could have given some to his staunchest ally as insurance.
It didn't matter how she had it.
She wouldn't accept his invitation for a date, but Luthor was sure there was something he could offer her that she wouldn't be able to refuse.
Some of the green rock remained on the earth - and Luthor intended to have it.
||_||
Clark kept his feet to a hurried - but human - pace.
It had taken him nearly ten minutes to cover the distance between the Planet and Mayson's apartment. Now, for the first time ever, he stood outside her door.
He closed his eyes and hauled in a long, slow breath.
Whatever she had, whatever she knew, he needed to think quickly and smother any revealing reactions. Assume nothing, he counselled himself. Admit nothing. Agree to nothing.
He raised his hand and knocked.
Mayson opened the door within seconds. Her face confirmed his worst fears. She knew something. And she intended to use it against him.
"Clark," she said brightly. "You came."
"You told me to come."
She stood back to let him in and then closed the door behind him. Clark pushed his hands into his pockets and waited, trying to ignore how much this felt like entrapment in a spider's web.
The feeling intensified when Mayson stepped up to him, and to his horror, put her arms around his neck.
His hands shot from his pockets and took a firm grip on her elbows. He stepped back, putting distance between them. Her arms dropped, and she slid her hands into the pockets of the jacket she was wearing.
"Don't do that, Mayson," Clark said. 'You know I don't feel that way about you."
"It was merely a sign of affection between two friends," she said. "You take everything waaaay too seriously, Clark."
Mayson had always been bold ... on edge ... unpredictable. Now, she was like a bomb about to detonate.
Clark tried to clear his face of all expression. "What do you want?" he asked.
"I want you to stop using that superior tone with me," she said.
"You know why I respond to you the way I do."
"Sure I do," she said with a laugh that cackled through his brain and squeezed the knots in his stomach tighter. "It's because you think you're better than me since you didn't succumb to my attempts to get you into my bed."
"I don't think I'm better than you," he said. "I just want to know why you've summoned me here."
"Because I have something to tell you that most people would have worked out already. It's possible, of course, that you know ... but somehow ... " She looked him up and down with abject contempt. "... I don't think so."
"Could we do this without the theatrics?" Clark asked.
"You *don't* know, do you?" She shook her head incredulously. "You don't have any idea what I'm about to tell you."
Clark waited and said nothing.
"The woman you're so taken with? The one that you supposedly *love*?"
Clark felt ice slither through his veins. This *was* about Lois. "What about her?"
"She's a married woman."
"If she were married, I'm sure she would have told me."
"No, she wouldn't have," Mayson said with certainty. "She probably realises you're as naive as a newborn calf."
"I trust Lois."
"Not only is she married," Mayson gloated. "But I attended her wedding."
Surely, Mayson couldn't know that Lois was Ultra Woman ... could she? Again, Clark decided that silence was his ally. His best strategy was to find out exactly what Mayson knew.
"Last weekend - while you were having a lovely folksy time in Smallville, Lois Lane was getting married ... right here in Metropolis." Mayson chortled. "Oh, the irony, the irony - it's beautiful."
She did know! "Mayson, can you stop talking in riddles? You're not making any sense."
"It's simple, hayseed," she spat as anger laced her disdain. "The woman you say you love ... The woman you're chasing half way around the world to visit ... The woman you want to spend the rest of your life with ... that woman, Lois Lane ... is - when you're not looking - Ultra Woman. Who is married to Superman."
Clark felt like his head was splitting down the middle.
The only meagre - and it was very meagre - compensation was that Mayson looked like she had plenty more to say. He wasn't going to have to speak for at least a few minutes.
"You look shocked," she said gleefully. "But now that I've pointed it out for you, you must realise the truth. Perhaps you had niggling questions about her anyway. Perhaps she said things that just didn't quite add up. Perhaps you'd call her, and she wouldn't answer her phone - and never had any reasonable explanation for not taking your call."
Mayson paced away and turned like an uncoiling spring. "It all fits," she said exultantly. "It explains how she could be in the library on Wednesday - and only hours later follow up her story in Australia. It explains Ultra Woman's complete dearth of anything resembling class." Mayson stepped closer, and her eyes narrowed. "You didn't believe me, did you, Kent? I *told* you Lois Lane had been in Metropolis, and you didn't believe me. If you even bothered asking her about it, she probably bamboozled you with details of how she got the medal story, and that was enough for you to figure that stupid Mayson had been imagining things again. It wasn't possible for Lane to be here and be in Australia just a few hours later. But I bet you never thought about Superman, huh?"
Mayson grinned, clearly relishing her own brilliance and his speechlessness in equal measure.
"You didn't know, did you?" she persisted.
Clark didn't reply.
"You didn't know you are dating a married woman. Oh, Kent, that is perfect. You! Of all people, Mr Boy Scout, Mr Morality, Mr Straight-Guy is dating a *married* woman. I knew you were dumb, Kent, but I have to say this has surprised even me."
She pranced to her computer and wiggled the mouse. A wedding photo came onto the screen - a wedding photo of Superman and Ultra Woman.
Clark took advantage of her turned back to gather his thoughts. Was it worth trying to raise some doubts to shake her conviction? She hadn't said *how* she knew. Did she *know*? Or had she guessed? "What about the interview?" he asked. "I was still in Melbourne when Ultra Woman was at Superman's interview. I was with Lois then."
Mayson spun from where she'd been gazing at the wedding photo on the computer screen. "Do you remember the exact time of the interview?" she fired at him. "I do. Do you remember *exactly* what you were doing? Do you know for sure that Lane was with you?"
He gave the slightest shake of his head, deciding it was much less dangerous for Mayson to be the one doing the talking.
"The interview was at nine o'clock on a Tuesday morning," Mayson said triumphantly. "That means it was late at night in Australia." She smiled, but it was more of a sneer. "I know you, Kent. I know your aversion to being intimate with a woman unless you've bound her to you for life. Don't try to tell me you were in bed with Lane during the interview, because you'd only known her a few weeks then, and I simply won't believe you."
Clark let that one pass without comment. "I'll be in Melbourne this weekend," he said.
"You're still going?" Mayson shrieked. "After everything I told you?"
"I will be with Lois," he said. "If Ultra Woman makes an appearance, we'll know Lois isn't Ultra Woman."
"You'll be with her *all* weekend?"
"Not the weekend. I arrive on Sunday, and I'll be there for at least two days."
"The *whole* time? Including the nights?"
Clark was torn between which of the two admissions was likely to cause the least damage. He nodded. "The whole time."
Mayson whooped. "This just gets funnier," she said. "Not only are you dating a married woman, you've just admitted that you've been *sleeping* with a married woman. Have you thought about what happens to you when Superman discovers you've been having an affair with his wife? Oh, Kent," she chortled. "You are going to be mashed to a pulp."
She looked like the prospect thrilled her.
"I don't believe you," Clark said.
"Then you are even more stupid than I thought."
"Do you really think that Superman - with all of his powers - wouldn't know if his wife were having an affair?" Clark said. "Do you really think the wife of Superman would even look at an average guy like me? You saw them together at the interview - did they seem like they were in love?"
Mayson paused, and for the first time, Clark saw a speck of indecision in her face. "They *looked* close," she conceded.
Clark wasn't sure whether he should fall back to silence or try to push the slight advantage of her doubts. "Do you really think that a football reporter from Melbourne would be a good enough actor that she could fool you into thinking she was in love with one man when she's in love with someone else entirely?"
Mayson sniggered. "Don't fool yourself, Kent," she said. "If your little piece of Down Under skirt is sharing herself between you and Superman, it won't be *you* she's in love with."
"Lois says she loves me. I believe her."
Mayson shook her head, and it seemed a measure of melancholy had come over her face. "Kent," she said. "After the way you continually rejected me, I should be happy that your world has come crashing down, but I just feel pity for you."
"I don't want your pity."
"No, but you need my help." Mayson left the computer desk and stepped closer. "Clark," she said, and her friendly tone was more disturbing than her hysterical ravings. "I have the means to bring down Superman. We could do it together. When Superman finds out that you've been sleeping with his wife, there won't be much left of you. Your only hope is if I rid the world of Superman. I get the story, you get the satisfaction of revenge over the slut who has made such a fool of you, and you won't have to worry about Superman coming after you or your parents."
"No," Clark said.
She raised her eyebrow and gave him a knowing smile. "This is your only chance, Kent," she said. "I have all the power. If you side with me, you will come out of this with little other than your conscience dented and your ego mangled."
"No, Mayson. I won't help you bring down Superman."
"What about Lane?" Mayson said cattily. "Surely even a heart as sanctimonious as yours would get some pleasure out of the demise of the woman who has strung you along so easily?"
He tried to wipe all emotion from his expression. "I love Lois," he said because in all this clutter, that truth shone like a beacon.
Mayson's eyes turned cold, and her mouth twisted to a cruel sneer. "Then we are going to have to do this the hard way," she said. She looked at the watch on her wrist. "You have three hours to make your decision. Be back here at five o'clock."
"What decision?"
"Everything I know - that Lois Lane is Ultra Woman, that she's been having an affair with you despite her marriage to the alien - *everything* will be in my story tomorrow."
"Perry won't print it."
"Carpenter will. And he'll pay big bucks for the exclusive."
Clark knew she was right. Having paid for the wedding and not obtained the honeymoon photos, the Star would jump at the chance to print any dirt on Superman and Ultra Woman.
"There is a way to buy my silence," Mayson said.
He didn't want to ask, but he had to. "How?"
"The only way to keep this story from being published is if the announcement of our engagement is in tomorrow's Planet."
