Clark and Lois - Despair to Hope – Matchmaker Chronicles Volume 4 – 05/22
By Ken Janney
This version is rated PG-13
* denotes emphasis *
< denotes thoughts >
[ playback of a recording ]/ telepathic communications /
(#) footnotes
As always comments are welcome. (ken.janney@kjanney.com)
Reminder:
Universal Locator Designation
Alpha 023 x Gamma 004 x Tau -120 - Canon Lois and Clark universe also called – Prime
Alpha 023 x Gamma 025 x Tau 036 – Canon Alt Clark universe also called – Alt 1
Disclaimers: The characters in this story are property of DC, December 3rd productions and Warner Bros. No Copyright infringement is intended. I have just borrowed the characters for a short time.
Previously –
<How was I to know that this wasn’t the incident, that the snake was just a distraction and that she was going to be shot?>
He grieved … a deep soul wrenching grief that could not be denied. He wept bitter tears. Tears of anger … anger at the rebel that shot her, anger at Lex Luthor for providing the weapons, and most bitterly anger at himself for being the means of her finding and following the shipment. There would be more time for self-recrimination later; right now the grief was overwhelming.
Clark worried over what had happened. The longer the delay, the more he had an opportunity to mull over the circumstances of her injury. He couldn’t get past the nagging feeling that somehow he was the cause of her injury. <What if I hadn’t been there? If I hadn’t been there, would she have even been there? It was because of me that we knew where the shipment was located. Is it my fault that she was shot? Would she have found the shipment and followed it if I hadn’t been there? If that had been the case would she have been shot anyway and without me there to get her to the hospital wouldn’t she have died at the scene? It was a mortal wound.>
He thought back on what Herb had told him, <It was his belief that whatever happened was simply history playing itself out. Herb hadn’t been wrong. This is history as I knew it. It has played out without a hitch even though I tried my best to change things. In 1997 she was missing and presumed dead and now I know for a fact that she is dead. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t I effect a change? This pain is almost too much to bear. Why did Herb have to tease me this way? To make me think that through my efforts I could change what has happened.>
<We were going to be *so* happy together. You had already made a difference in my life. All the time since the other Lois left I have had a hollow place in the center of my chest. A Lois sized hole that no one else could fill. Then you came along. Now that hole was a perfect fit for you. When you were shot, when you passed out on me I thought I had lost you again. I almost died there beside you. I had to do everything I could to try to save you. Now … now I’ve lost you again.>
Clark continued on in this fashion for hours. Finally the emotional drain and the energy expenditure caught up with him. He simply ran out of tears to shed. He gently laid her back down on the bed. He arranged her hands. Her eyes were already closed as if in sleep. He leaned in for one final kiss. When he rose up from that kiss he stood and simply wept until the staff came in to wheel her to the morgue.
And now:
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Chapter 3 - Sabotage
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Universal Locator Designation
Alpha 023 x Gamma 025 x Tau 036
Local designation – Alt 1
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The staff had arrived to wheel Lois down to the morgue so Clark finally left the room and fueled with a new determination walked from the hospital.
Clark was spent emotionally but he would have some time before the burial and he was determined that none of the weapons supplied by Luthor would make it into the hands of the rebels.
It was still dark when he exited the building. Ducking out of sight he took off and flew to Dongou. It only took a few minutes for Clark to formulate a plan of action. Reasoning that it should be rather simple to play on the superstitious fears of the natives he decided just how to go about it. Once he had them panicked the fear should be contagious enough that he wouldn’t have any problem with the security detail.
Landing on the outskirts of Dongou he made his way to the marina and went aboard the Ubuntu. Ignoring all the things that reminded him of Lois there on the boat, he quickly changed into his black outfit and headed for a secluded area before taking to the air again.
As he flew to the spot where they had been captured he thought about that incident. As he did, he couldn’t help second guessing himself. If he had just revealed himself and taken out the rebels at superspeed they wouldn’t have been captured. Word would have made it to the outside world about a super being but he would deal with that when the time came. It was too late for recriminations now however. His secret was safe but Lois, his Lois was dead as a result of his inaction.
Looking around with his enhanced vision he located the shallow grave which held the remains of the thug that Lois had killed when he had attacked her with a machete. Thinking about that incident he marveled that she had been so self assured and she had handled that attack so well. Realistically, she hadn’t been in any real danger the entire time and he had watched the whole thing play out. There was not the slightest hesitation in her actions, every move was exact, demonstrating her training and skill in the martial arts which were plainly evident to anyone with similar skills. Only those that had no training would have mistaken what happened for a fluke because to the trained eye she was perfection in motion with every move precisely controlled and the results for her attacker had been devastating.
Clark quickly dug the thug up and carried him as he flew to where the cargo train currently was bivouacked and from altitude he used his heat vision to cause the fire in the middle of the camp to flare up. This got the attention of the watch. The rebels on watch started checking around the camp looking for intruders. The native bearers that were awake, started shouting to their comrades waking them up. The individual that had witnessed Clark flying off with Lois had spread his story through the entire camp and the other natives were already stirred up as a result. The fire flaring up that way caused their superstitious fears to flare as well.
Clark landed out of sight on the trail leading back the way they had come and held the dead man up so that it looked like he was alive as he approached the camp. He started howling and screaming incoherently. Shouting in Swahili in a sepulchral voice he moaned, “Beware! … Beware! … My fate could be yours! … Beware! … Flee this place while you still can! … Beware!” He accompanied these statements with more groans and screams. He started floating and carried the dead thug up several feet into the air and flew around above the level of the grasses.
He certainly had the attention of the native bearers. Some that had already been aroused by their comrades seeing this fell over in a dead faint. Others screamed like all of the devils of Hell were pursuing them and fled into the grass in whatever direction they happened to be facing at the time. They ran screaming and jabbering in Bantu about ghosts, spirits and demons. They didn’t care where they were going as long as it was away from there. Those that happened to still be asleep started up from where they were sleeping and fled blindly up the trail and into the grassland around them.
The security detail was startled to say the least. The first thing that they thought of was to shoot at this apparition. They were a little less superstitious than the native bearers, but not much. The main difference was that they had weapons available to them whereas the bearers did not. First one of the guards took a shot at this flying, demon or ghost or whatever it was. As soon as one guard started shooting others did as well.
No matter how many times they shot this flying demon it continued to fly around and shout and moan as if nothing had happened at all. Several of the guards emptied entire clips into the demon and when their weapons failed to continue firing they flung them down as useless and fled.
Clark aimed another burst of heat vision at the logs on the bonfire making them flare up once more. He then directed beams of heat vision against the weapons still in possession of the security detail causing the stocks to burst into flame and the metal to start glowing red. The panic of the natives coupled with what was happening to their weapons broke the resolve of the security detail that remained and they also fled in disarray.
He followed them circling the camp in ever increasing circles carrying the dead man for several kilometers. Once he was sure that they were far enough away that he wouldn’t be interrupted for quite a while he returned to the camp site.
Methodically he opened crate after crate first identifying which crates had weapons and which held ammunition. The ammunition was the first thing that he would deal with so he opened the crates and at superspeed removed the slug from each bullet and poured out the powder onto a tarp. After pouring the powder out he then collected the slugs in a couple of the crates and melted them into a lump of lead. The cartridge cases he collected in a couple of other cases and treated them similarly turning them into solid lumps of brass. Once all of the ammunition had been rendered harmless he reclosed those crates and then he took the powder and laid it out in a trail forming his family crest. Once this was done he ignited it with a burst of heat vision. This left a scorch pattern on the ground in his “S” pattern. He thought to himself, <That should give them something to think about. There are crop circles being found in various locations but this will be different. Burning this into the ground will cause it to remain for a while and really give them something to think about.>
Next he removed the weapons from their crates. First he used his heat vision to heat the metal of a couple of machine guns until it was soft and then used his hands to reshape them into an anvil. Then he took the other weapons one at a time. Removing the stocks he piled them on the bonfire at the center of the camp and allowed them to burn. Then one weapon at a time he softened the metal with his heat vision until it was malleable and then using the anvil beat the metal into a new shape. Some of the weapons became rakes or hoes, some became shovels or plow blades, others became a mattock or an ax.
Going into the nearby jungle he harvested some wood from which he made handles for the tools. Long straight handles for the hoes, rakes and shovels. Different shapes for the axes and mattocks.
The entire time he was thinking, <Lois, my love, this is for you. No longer will they have the weapons to hurt anyone, at least none that have been supplied by Luthor. I don’t know what else I’m going to do about Luthor. I may not need to do anything. In my time he was not a problem. He had disappeared from the scene before I was ever hired by the Planet. At least this is being stopped.>
When he was finished he was assured that if the paperwork said that they were receiving a shipment of farming implements, then farming implements was what they were going to receive. Once all of the metal had cooled sufficiently he attached the handles he had fabricated and carefully repackaged the tools.
Since he knew exactly where the rebel camp was located he flew there. He set up an impromptu forge in the foothills overlooking the camp with the anvil he had created from the machine guns.
Flying down into the camp he collected the machine guns from their emplacements in the training area. Carrying them up to his forge he used his heat vision to heat the metal until it was red hot and then used his hands as hammers to pound the metal into the desired shapes.
The glow from his activity and the sparks that flew up were visible from the camp and the watchmen were in awe of this sight in the hills.
When he had finished with these weapons he returned them. They would never fire another shot at anyone. They would only be good for working the land now.
Several times at superspeed he passed through the camp gathering up loose weapons. These he carried up to his forge.
Knowing that all of these activities would amaze and scare the uneducated natives he decided to do something even more spectacular. Having seen the effect on them of stimulating the fire with his heat vision he decided on an even more spectacular display. This time he piled the wooded stocks up on a ledge on the side of the hill nearest the camp and using his heat vision started a bonfire with them. The flames suddenly shot up into the air for at least thirty meters. The watchers were startled by this. One minute there was not even a flicker and then within the blink of an eye flames shot up. The oils and waxes with which the wood of the stocks had been polished contributed to this. Even at this distance he could hear the exclamations of fear which this elicited in the camp.
This activity continued through the night. On another pass he knocked out all of the sentries and removed their weapons. When they awoke each was holding a farming implement.
By this time the entire camp was aroused, but that didn’t matter since Clark had plenty of room to get up to speed he was traveling faster than the eye could follow as he moved in and around the rebels.
Officers were running around shouting orders. Some had their side arms out and in their hands when they were suddenly snatched from their grasp. In some cases when the pistol was snatched away the finger on the trigger and inside the trigger guard was broken. Those that still had their side arms holstered found that when they reached for them all that they came up with were hand rakes and pruning shears.
Before morning he saw that his job was completed in the camp and returned to the foothills. After dismantling the forge he did the same thing to all of the ammunition he had collected that he had with the cargo. He collected the powder and laid it out in his ‘S’ pattern, this time in a large flat area just outside the camp. When he ignited it, it flared up satisfactorily leaving a scorch mark that would last for some time.
After igniting the powder he returned the corpse of the rebel thug to his final resting place and flew back to Dongou.
When he walked into the marina he found the guard that he had hired to guard the Ubuntu and since it was still within the time frame that had been paid for, he didn’t owe him any additional fees. He dismissed him telling him to keep what he had been paid. He went aboard and released the spring lines, started up the engine and pulled out of the marina into the main stream. As soon as he was out of sight of the town he idled the engine and, planting his feet firmly on the deck, started flying. He speeded up until he was cruising at eighty five knots. He maintained this speed until he reached Impfondo where he slowed to fifteen knots. As soon as he was past Impfondo he speeded up again.
He managed to get the Ubuntu back to Brazzaville in record time and got her tied up in her slip in the marina before returning to the hospital. Before leaving the boat he packed their bags. He took them to the Bonne Nuit de Sommeil and rented suite 501 again.
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Returning to the hospital he looked for and found Dr. M’benga and asked with tears in his eyes and raw emotion in his voice, “Dr. M’benga, what are the procedures? There will not be an autopsy will there? I don’t think I could bear to have her cut up any more than she already has been.”
“No, my boy, there will be no need of an autopsy. We know the cause of death. We will be transferring her to a funeral parlor later in the morning. Is there any one in particular that you wish her remains sent to?”
“No, we aren’t from here and any one will do. I do want to make special arrangements though. She is to be buried here, but in the future I will be having her moved to the states for a proper burial for the rest of her family. If you could tell me which funeral home you would recommend I will go see them. I want to make special arrangements for the enclosure. It will not be a standard casket. It needs to be air tight.” He was thinking, <I’m going to purge the casket with nitrogen. That will preserve her body until I can reclaim it in 1997 and move it to its proper place.>
“I understand completely. Here, let me write the information down for you.”
Clark took the information and went to see the undertaker. He looked for a cemetery which overlooked the rapids in the Congo River because she had really loved that view when they had picnicked at the golf club grounds. He couldn’t find one so he purchased a small piece of land just off of the golf club grounds to use.
It was a very small service. The only attendees were Charlie, Derek Price and the twins. After a short graveside ceremony Derek and the twins had left but Charlie had remained. He just stood there head bowed in silent contemplation for hours on end.
comments go here To be continued in Chapter 4 – The Twins Step Up
