Maisie stood. "Are you going to investigate? It makes sense, you know, that the government would cover it up. I mean, can you imagine the uproar if it were proven that they'd been taken by aliens?"
"I think -"
"Would you like to know how to get to the Kent's place? The neighbour, Wayne Irig, has been working the farm - someone had to look after the animals - but no one's touched the house in seven years."
"Which way to Granville?" Lois said.
"You're not even going to follow it up?" Maisie asked, disappointment drizzling from every word.
Lois shook her head. "I get one shot at this story," she said. "If I take my editor a story on an alien abduction, that's going to finish my career before it even starts."
"OK," Maisie conceded. "Granville's that way." She pointed south down the quiet street. "About half a mile out of town, there's a turn off to your left."
Lois nodded. "Thanks," she said.
She got into the rental car and drove out of Smallville on the road towards Granville.
Part 16
Daniel Scardino stepped away from the drab and inauspicious office block, unable to determine which of his competing emotions - relief and annoyance - was ahead in the battle for precedence.
He was relieved that his meeting with Eric Menzies had been short and relatively painless.
He was annoyed that, despite Menzies' edict that the meeting was to begin at eight o'clock sharp, the higher-up hadn't seen fit to arrive until after ten. And when he had arrived, whatever had delayed him - he hadn't seen the need to enlighten Scardino or offer an apology - had put him in a more-objectionable-than-usual mood.
He'd barked a few questions demanding details of the changes Lois Lane had implemented at the compound. Scardino had answered simply and accurately, and to his relief, Menzies hadn't pushed for in-depth explanations.
Daniel had handed over the boxes of Trask's notes, Menzies had grunted a dismissal, and Daniel had left, rueing a wasted morning but acutely aware that it could have been worse.
Although he assumed his reprieve would be short-lived.
Menzies was not one to let things lag. He would read Trask's notes, draw his own conclusions, and make a decision about what happened now.
And that decision would be final.
Scardino had given his word that he wouldn't take Lois Lane from the alien operation. And he wouldn't. But if Menzies decreed that she was to be removed, Daniel would be powerless.
Lois Lane, however, would fight it. She would.
And that would put Scardino squarely in the middle of the ensuing confrontation.
Daniel sighed as he unlocked his vehicle. He guessed it was too much to hope that whatever had taken Menzies out of the job for over a year would make a convenient reappearance.
That would be just too easy.
||_||
Clark had been awake a long time before the first glimmer of sunlight brought subtle changes to the hue of the window.
From his first moment of consciousness, thoughts of Lois had filled his mind. There was so much to think about - his parents, the farm, and Lois in Smallville; whether Scardino would come into his prison with the rods; the outcome of the meeting; and if the higher-up would decide that Lois had to leave.
If he did, what would she do?
Clark sat up and put her pillow behind his head as he leaned against the wall.
Tapping away in his brain was a possibility that he had repeatedly refused to contemplate.
It was unthinkable.
But from what he had gleaned about Lois Lane, there seemed to be every chance that *she* was thinking about it.
She knew about the implant.
That should have been enough to convince her that he could never leave this prison.
But it hadn't been - she had simply threatened to bulldoze the wall.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Clark felt himself smile.
If anyone ordered a bulldozer, it would be Lois.
He looked at the wall surrounding the door. Trask had had it lined with lead sheeting, and since then, Clark hadn't been able to see beyond the plasterboard even during the fleeting intervals when he hadn't been weakened by exposure to the poison.
Now, he felt close to fully recovered - although it was difficult to judge accurately when there was no real way to test his strength and speed.
He concentrated his vision and stared at the wall surrounding the door.
There were a few small gaps in the lead, allowing Clark to see beyond them and into the interior of the wall. He saw some wires and tracked the disjointed network. Within seconds, he realised that they appeared to converge on one spot about a foot above the door.
He followed a wire through the breaks in his vision as it snaked towards the window. It became two wires that looped around the window.
Trask had been so vigilant in maintaining levels of exposure that Clark hadn't considered the window to be a means of escape. Now, he was almost sure that he would be able to fly up to the window and crash through it.
Except for the presence of the wires.
He should have expected that.
Trask had been nothing if not thorough.
But Lois intended to get him out.
Clark wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that.
He wanted to get out of this prison ... obviously.
But to what?
Nothing was going to change that he was an alien in an unfriendly and hostile world.
Freedom wouldn't be freedom if he were being hunted like a feral animal.
If they were chasing him, what would happen to Lois?
Would she face the same fate as his parents?
He couldn't let that happen again. Not to Lois.
And, anyway, what sort of a life would it be for her? Always running. Always hiding. Always having to be careful about leaving any clue as to their whereabouts.
That was no way for her to live.
If he were to escape, it had to be done in such a way that Lois was not implicated.
And that meant they couldn't be together.
Yet when Clark searched the depths of his heart, he wasn't sure that he could face life on the outside without her.
Furthermore, he had to consider his parents. If he escaped, what would that mean for them?
Conflict was coming. Clark could feel it as surely as he used to be able to feel the onset of a big storm as it rolled across the fields.
Even with Trask dead, there was no chance that the authorities were going to allow him back into the world to live like a normal person. It just wasn't going to happen. They believed he was a killer. They knew about his phenomenal strength, his lightning speed, and some of his other weird abilities. They saw him as an unacceptable threat to a vulnerable human race.
And that meant Lois was going to want him to break out. He could not take her with him. And he wasn't sure he could do it without her.
Therefore, when it came to eyeball-to-eyeball confrontation, he was ominously sure that he and Lois were not going to agree.
He would prefer to stay in the prison if the alternative was to ruin Lois's life.
Would she accept that?
Clark sighed.
She would think he was a coward if he said he didn't want to leave the prison. But that was preferable to her dutifully staying with him after they had run away.
What possible future could they have?
None.
The authorities would never stop looking for him.
He and Lois might be able to steal a few hours ... a few days at best ... and then what? Certain capture. Perhaps with Lois being hurt or killed. They would bring the poison, so he would be powerless to protect her.
And then, he would be returned to captivity - possibly to even worse conditions than those he had suffered under Trask.
But infinitely worse - Lois's life would change. Perhaps she would be imprisoned. Perhaps she would suffer whatever fate had befallen his parents.
Clark could not allow that.
He would rather that Lois thought of him as a weak coward than live with the certainty that he had ruined her life.
There was no future outside of the prison.
And somehow, Clark had to find a way to convince Lois of that.
Lois ... where was she now? Had she arrived in Kansas safely? Had she rented a car?
What would she find when she got to Smallville?
The flap of the pet door lifted, and a paper bag was pushed into the cell. Clark rose to his feet, collected it, returned to the mattress, and ate with stark disinterest.
The morning, the afternoon, the entire day stretched ahead of him like a long, never-ending highway.
He wanted Lois. He wanted to be with her so much that the ache in his heart radiated through his ribcage, causing physical pain. He tried to think ahead to this evening. He'd guessed that the real motivation behind her suggestion had been to give him something to take his mind from everything else.
He would enjoy the evening. It would be incredible. It would be the closest thing he'd had to a date in such a long time.
A date.
Neither of them had used that word, but that was what it would be.
A date.
A date with Lois.
It should have been enough to overwhelm his heart with joyful anticipation. And it did ... except ... he found it impossible not to look beyond the evening and to the time when his separation from Lois wouldn't be measured in hours, but in foreverness.
He had experienced excruciating pain, but he couldn't even imagine the agony of knowing that he would never see her again.
Never was such a long time.
The morning crawled past. Clark watched the indistinct changes of the window and tracked the passing of time.
It was only mid morning. He *had* to do something.
He could run. Exercise.
He leapt to his feet and began jogging slowly up and down the length of the cell. If he did one hundred laps, that should eat away at least half an hour.
He ran, feet pounding, mind hurtling from Lois, to his parents, to Smallville, and back to Lois again.
He stopped after a while - worried about how his vigour would be interpreted if anyone *was* silently watching him from Lois's office.
If they still believed Trask's assertions, they would think he was training to take his place in the alien invasion of Earth.
Trask had spent hours trying to get Clark to admit to an obsession with world dominion.
All Clark had ever wanted was to live like a regular guy.
That was until he met Lois.
Now, all he wanted was to live like a regular guy and be with Lois.
||_||
Lois drove south towards Granville for five miles and then navigated a wide circle back to the area north of Smallville. She followed the map Clark had drawn and found the gate to the farm where the Kent family had lived.
She stepped out of the car and listened intently. She could hear the twittering of the birds and the rustle of the leaves, but there was no low hum of an approaching car.
She hurried forward to open the gate, drove through it, and closed it behind her. At the top of the long and curvy driveway, she nosed the rental car between the huge cedar and the grove of maples that fanned out behind it. She killed the motor and got out of the car.
Through the vibrant foliage, she could glimpse the little white farmhouse where Clark had been raised. What had once been a garden in front of the house was now overgrown - weeds flourished in the midst of the spindly shrubs. The lawn had spread its scraggly edges onto the path.
Lois reached into her bag and took out her filed-down Allen key, small screwdriver, and a pair of thin white cotton gloves. She lifted her small suitcase from the back seat and pulled on the gloves as she slipped between the trees and behind the house.
A minute later, the lock gave way to her steady pressure on the Allen key, and she pushed open the door. The kitchen was neat - the chairs were pushed into the table, the counters and sink were clear - but a film of dust covered everything, a cobweb was stretched between the plain white light fitting and the top of the bureau, and the pervading odour strongly implied the presence of mice. Lois stepped to the bureau, placed her suitcase across her feet, and opened the first drawer.
She discovered multiple sheets of blank paper; a few old pamphlets about things like seed, and calf food, and farm equipment; some pens; and two yellowed copies of the Smallville Press that were dated July 1987.
She opened the second drawer, already suspecting that the house had been cleared of everything personal - there were no photos, no shopping lists, no handwritten recipes, no letters, no greeting cards, no envelopes addressed to the Kents. There was nothing to allude to who had lived here.
She opened the final drawer. It contained more of the same - papers, some pages torn from a gardening magazine, a crumpled packet of flower seeds, and a pair of scissors, but nothing personal. She shuffled the papers aside and uncovered a man's pair of glasses.
She shut the drawer, picked up her suitcase, and continued through the house into the living room. The chairs - worn and well-used - formed a forlorn semi-circle around the fireplace. On the mantle was a clock that had stopped at twelve minutes past seven. A painting of an ice-capped mountain hung on the wall. There were other nails in the wall - surrounded by faint rectangles where the pale blue paint had been protected from the smoke particles.
Lois crossed to the foot of the wooden stairs and tiptoed up them. At the top, she opened the door on the left and entered cautiously.
Clark's room was dim - the blue curtains covered most of the window, shutting out the sunlight. The bed was made - the once-white sheets folded down over a blue quilt. An alarm clock, two pens, and a copy of National Geographic hunkered into the dust on top of the little table next to the bed. Lois carefully lowered her suitcase onto the blue quilt and opened the lid. Inside were five hardcover books bought for their weight rather than their words, a few pieces of clothing she had used when working undercover as a streetwalker, her favourite cherry-red dress, and matching shoes. She pushed the shoes into the corner of the suitcase and laid the dress on the lid. She rolled the remaining clothes into an untidy bundle and turned to the closet.
The door was painted white. Inside, the clothes were arranged in neat rows and orderly piles. Six pairs of shoes lined the floor. Lois pushed the bundle of clothes and the books into the back corner with a muttered apology to Clark. She crouched low, chose a pair of sneakers and a pair of black leather shoes, and placed them in the suitcase.
She selected the two newest looking pairs of jeans from the hangers and folded them over her arm. She added two white cotton shirts and two checked shirts, and laid them in the suitcase. She took three sweaters, three tee shirts, and a pair of sweat pants, and packed them as well.
She took down the hanger containing formal-looking grey trousers and a maroon jacket and laid them across the top of the other clothing.
After closing the door of the closet, Lois opened the drawer under the bedside table. She reached in quickly and grasped a handful of the bundled pairs of socks and another handful of the folded briefs. She shoved them into the gaps around the edges of her suitcase.
Then, she scrutinised the rest of the room.
It had been cleared more thoroughly than the other two rooms. The bookshelves were empty apart from the layers of dust that marked the passing years. There were nails in the wall, but whatever had once been proudly displayed was gone.
Lois skirted around the bed, went to the desk under the window, and rifled through the drawers. Two were empty, and the third contained a handheld mirror and a small, threadbare reindeer that was probably a Christmas tree decoration.
She picked up both items and shut the drawer. Back at the bed, she slipped them between the folds of one of Clark's sweaters. She placed the dress across the contents of the suitcase and fastened the lid.
She lifted it and thumped the quilt a few times. A dark cloud of dust rose, and Lois turned away, leaving it to settle on the place where she had put her suitcase.
After shutting Clark's door, she hesitated.
Should she go into his parents' room?
She carefully turned the knob and stepped in.
There was a dark stain on the pastel-green bedspread. Lois figured that whatever had caused it had happened after the family had been forcibly removed from their home.
She opened the closet, hoping it would be empty.
It wasn't.
Lois perused the hanging row of clothes. Clark's mom was about Lois's size. Clark's dad was tall and large.
On one hanger, there was a lady's coat made from creamy wool. Around its neck was a silk scarf in vibrant reds and blues with splashes of rich yellow. Lois pulled it from the hanger and pushed it into the pocket of her jacket.
There was a hairbrush and some bobby pins on the dresser. Had there once been a photo of Clark there? Perhaps as a baby?
If there had been, there was nothing now. Nothing to bear witness to the couple who had lived their lives in this little farmhouse. Raised their son. Dreamed their dreams. Shared their hopes.
Lois closed the closet, stepped from the room, quietly shut the door, and crept down the stairs with her suitcase.
In the kitchen, she paused. She had the scarf that belonged to Clark's mom; should she also take him something that had belonged to his dad?
Lois put her hand into her pocket and felt the soft silkiness of the scarf. She couldn't predict how Clark would react. Would it upset him?
She wasn't sure. But if she took the scarf, she could choose the right moment to give it to him. And there was always the possibility that someone might come and clear away the clothes, and then they would be lost forever. How long could a house sit here - abandoned? Wouldn't someone eventually decide that something had to be done with it?
Stepping around the table, Lois opened the drawer of the bureau and took out the pair of glasses. She slipped them into her pocket and folded the scarf around them to protect them.
After a final glance to ensure there was no telltale evidence of her visit, she left the farmhouse and carefully locked the door.
Five minutes later, she was driving north, putting more miles between herself and Smallville. She would have to do a wide circle to avoid the town but estimated she would reach Wichita in good time for her flight back to Metropolis.
Her thoughts scampered to Clark.
He would be wondering.
Wondering about her.
Wondering what she had found in Smallville.
Wondering about his parents.
Hoping she would bring good news of them.
She had so very little to give him, and her disappointment sat like a lump of cold stone in the pit of her stomach.
But this was just the beginning - and, as she knew, it was rare to strike gold in the first place you looked.
Something had happened to Jonathan and Martha Kent, and Lois intended to find out what.
This was just the first step in what she expected to be a long journey.
But she wished she had something more promising to take back to Clark. Something that would ease the worry from his eyes and cast a smile upon his face.
||_||
It had reached mid-afternoon in what was definitely the slowest day in Earth's history.
The guards had changed. Clark had heard a few minutes of voices, and then an egg salad sandwich had been pushed into his cell.
Hope that Scardino wouldn't come was growing steadily. Or perhaps he'd come already and hadn't requested entry into the cell.
Clark knew that Lois would be relieved.
He was, too - not only at having avoided the pain of exposure but because he really didn't want to be feeling the effects of the poison later this evening.
Would Lois be on the airplane by now?
She hadn't told him the exact time of her flight - and anyway, he had to guess the time by judging the amount and angle of light behind the window.
Was she on her way back to him?
What had she found out?
Did he dare to believe that Trask had allowed his parents to return to the farm?
Clark wanted to. But somehow ... hoping for that seemed to be the forerunner to certain disappointment.
But he could hope that Lois would arrive soon.
That wasn't empty hope.
She had promised him that she would get back as soon as she could.
Was she safe?
He wished it had been possible to go with her.
He sat down next to the jigsaw puzzle and determined that he was going to finish it. That should eat up another half an hour in this endless day.
||_||
Lois pushed the key into the external door of the compound, experiencing a patchwork of contrasting emotions.
There was excitement - very soon, she would be with Clark. Clark, who had probably spent the entire day awaiting the moment when she would walk into his room.
There was regret - she wished she had more to give him regarding his parents. Something to buoy his hope. Something to alleviate his fears for them.
There was foreboding - what if, right now, Clark was collapsed on the floor as he recovered from a dose of the rods?
And there was gleeful anticipation. She hadn't mentioned to Clark that she hoped to bring him some clothes. Tonight, he could cut his hair, shave his beard, dress in his own clothes, and eat a meal at a table.
Her heart bounced every time she thought of what tonight would mean to Clark.
She hoped it would be enough to overcome his disappointment that her trip to Smallville hadn't produced more definite and happier information.
She hoped it would be enough to overcome her distress if he had been hurt.
As Lois walked into the staffroom, Longford looked up from the table. "You're back early," he commented.
"Am I?" Lois looked at her wristwatch - although she was very aware that it was a few minutes before eight o'clock. She gave Longford a weary smile. "It was a long day."
"Did it ... did everything work out OK?" he asked. "With ... ah ... everything you had to do?"
"Yes," she said. "And thank you so much for taking my shift."
"You're welcome."
"Did Shadbolt say if Scardino came?" she asked casually.
"No one came," Longford said.
"No one?" Lois echoed as she tried to calm the hope carousing through her heart.
He shook his head. "Shadbolt said nothing happened. No one came. There was very little noise from the cell. It was just another quiet day."
Lois's relief congregated in her knees, and she grasped the chair.
"You really are tired," Longford said.
"Yeah," Lois said. "The evening meals will be delivered soon. I'm going to push one into the cell, eat the other, and then I'm going to bed."
"Do you want to go home?" Longford offered. "I can stay here tonight."
"No, thanks," Lois said. "To be honest, I don't have the energy to go home. I just want to crash here." She yawned and made a feeble effort to cover it with her hand. "See you tomorrow."
Longford took the hint and stood from the table. He replaced his coffee mug on the sink and picked up his bag. "See you."
Lois forced her feet-that-wanted-to-dance to plod slowly up the stairs. She unlocked the door to her office and stepped in. She didn't turn on the light, but she slammed shut her eyes anyway. She didn't want to see Clark before he had the chance to see her.
Scardino hadn't come!
They hadn't used the rods!
No one had hurt Clark while she was away!
Lois stood in the dark room with her eyes closed and counted slowly to one hundred as her impatience crashed over her like waves against a cliff.
She reached one hundred and started again, counting to the beat of her thumping heart. When she reached eighty-eight, she couldn't wait a moment longer. She opened the door, took the stairs in two leaping strides, opened the external door, and peered out.
Longford's vehicle was gone.
She was alone with Clark.
After locking the external door, Lois sprinted through the staffroom, and pushed the key into the lock of Clark's door.
As soon as she turned the key, Clark would know she was here.
Actually, there was every chance that he knew already.
He'd probably heard her voice.
Lois turned the key and pushed the door open.
He was standing, just a few yards away.
His face was split wide open with an unbridled grin of welcome.
Lois stepped up to him. In his eyes, there were questions, but for now, the potent cocktail of relief and excitement overshadowed them.
"Lois," he said, and in that one word, he managed to portray the anguish of waiting for the hours to pass.
"Clark," she said.
"I'm so glad you're back," he said emphatically.
Lois had so much to tell him that it all wanted to tumble out in an incoherent mess. She had to consider Clark - this was going to feel like an emotional roller coaster for him. "You speak," she said. "I'm too jittery."
The tide of anxiety flowed back. "My parents?"
All of her excitement was swept away like twigs in a flooded river. "I'm sorry, Clark," she said. "I wasn't able to find out much at all."
"They're not at the farm?"
"No," she said. "All I was able to establish is that they disappeared and have not returned."
His expression mirrored her feelings - it could have been worse, it could have been better, and they still knew so little.
"I'm so sorry, Clark," Lois said.
He slowly shook his head. "It's what I expected."
"But not what you hoped?"
"No."
Was now the right time to give him the scarf? Would it ease his disappointment? Or intensify it? Lois put her hand into her jacket pocket. "I brought something for you ... but ..."
"But?"
"But I'm not sure that now is the right time."
He waited, and Lois knew he would accept her decision without trying to coerce her.
Lois freed the scarf from the glasses and bunched it into her hand. With a quick movement, she withdrew her hand from her pocket and held it - palm open - towards Clark.
His throat jumped, and his hand shook as he reached for the scarf. "My mom's," he said hoarsely.
Lois nodded. "It was in her closet."
"Only this? Or other clothes as well?"
"Other clothes."
Clark nestled the scarf in his big hand. He looked beyond her, his eyelids flickering and his face set.
Lois couldn't watch his turmoil any longer.
She stepped into the circle of his pain and wrapped her arms around his neck. She held him closely, feeling the softness of his hair under her fingers.
His arms eased out from between their bodies and hesitated before loosely encircling her waist.
Lois inched closer and placed her cheek alongside his.
He held her.
She held him.
"You OK?" she whispered.
She felt him nod, and his arms fell away.
Lois slipped back, and her hands came to rest on Clark's shoulders. He gave her a hard-pressed smile. "Thank you," he said.
"I ... ah, got something belonging to your dad, too."
That seemed to surprise him, and Lois felt a jolt of excitement as she imagined the moment when she would give him the suitcase of clothing. She took the glasses from her pocket and held them out to him.
This time, Clark's reaction was different. He chuckled as he took the glasses from her hand. "Thanks," he said.
"Am I missing something?" Lois asked.
"I'll show you later."
"OK." She smiled at him, feeling as if they had weathered the most difficult aspects of their reunion. "I have some things for you," she said, unable to wait a moment longer.
"Oh?"
"I'll have to go outside and get them from the Jeep. I didn't want to bring them in while Longford was here."
She skipped outside and hurriedly returned with the suitcase. She laid it on the table, removed the cherry-red dress and matching shoes, and placed them on the bed. Then she quickly refastened the suitcase and carried it into the cell.
Clark watched her, a half-smile filtering through his bafflement.
Lois put the suitcase on the floor and threw open the lid.
She heard Clark gasp as he knelt beside her. "Lois," he breathed.
"Do you recognise anything here?" she asked with a smile.
He picked up the maroon jacket and stared at it. "Lois," he said. "I didn't expect ..."
"I didn't want to say anything just in case it wasn't possible to get into your house ... or in case I got in there, and everything had been taken." She slipped her hand into the sweater and brought out the mirror and the little reindeer. "Here's your mirror," she said. "And I didn't know if this little guy means anything to you, but I found him in your bedroom."
Clark took the reindeer and smiled. "This was mine to put on the Christmas tree," he said. "I always put him as high as I could reach, and we watched him slowly climb the tree year after year, until finally, he was sitting right at the top."
Lois put her hand on his hand where he held the reindeer. "I'll bring down another mirror," she said. "And then I'll leave you alone for a while. Our meals will be here in about half an hour."
"Did you get a camp table?"
"Uh huh."
"If you can bring it in here - and the chairs too - I'll set it up for us."
"Thanks," she said. "And I thought about something else, too. About cutting your hair."
"Oh?"
"If someone does see that you've shaved, I can probably explain it by saying I gave you a shaver. However, short hair means scissors - and that could be a problem."
She saw him try to suppress his disappointment. "OK."
Lois smiled. "But, I had an idea. If I were to give you a bathing cap, could you melt it a bit and stick your hair into it? Then, if we really need to, you could put on the cap - and it will look like your hair hasn't been cut."
Clark smiled. "Do you think it will work?"
"Well, it probably won't stand up to really close inspection, but from the window or the pet door, it might work."
"That's a great idea," Clark said.
"Thanks."
He seemed poised to say something else.
"Yes?" she prompted with a smile.
"Would you mind not looking?" Clark said with a dash of self-consciousness. "While I'm getting ready?"
"Of course I won't look," Lois said. "I need to freshen up in the bathroom. I won't go into my office."
"Thanks," he said.
"I'll bring everything in - and then I'll leave you to it."
"Lois?"
She paused.
"Thank you for going to Smallville," Clark said. "And *thank you* for coming back."
She chuckled. "See you soon."
Lois walked through the door and shut it. She leant against it for a few moments as her excitement bubbled over.
This felt like a *real* date.
She was going to dress up. She had ordered a special meal and bought a bottle of wine. She was looking forward to a wonderful evening.
With the man she loved.
Yup, it felt exactly like a real date.
||_||
This enlightening vid is entitled "How to pick a lock (educational porpuses)"
http://www.metacafe.com/watch/867678/how_to_do_lock_pick/
